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house-of-lovin · 1 year

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legally binded - 3

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

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Chapter 3: Movie Premieres, SNL and Quarrels

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Otherwise known as the One in New York. What do you guys think about R and Jenna's dynamic so far? 👀 (taking a break for a few days/maybe a week after I post this, I think I've kept you all fed for a bit while I'm gone lol, in the meantime, send asks I'll try to answer all of them!😋)

Word Count: 6.4k+

“You get on that plane and I’ll drop you as a client.” Jake’s voice rings out from your work phone.

“What the fuck, Jake, are you serious?!” You seethe, practically red in the face.

You have been on the phone with Jake for the last hour – Liv refuses to pick up your calls after you blew up the group chat, rehashing your argument with Jenna. Desperately pleading to fly back home because you couldn’t stand being in the same city as the actress, at the moment.

You couldn't even think about her words without it making your blood boil.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. Do you know what time it is here?”

Glancing at the clock it read 3:46 A.M. EST, you roll your eyes. “It’s just past midnight in L.A. You won’t die if you don’t get eight hours of sleep.”

“Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear another word from you.” He nearly shouts and you imagine that one vein popping through his forehead. You liked to stare at it when Jake goes off on his shouting tangents at you.

He never notices that you're not paying attention.

“Maybe we should get Liv on the phone or maybe Sarah?” Link glances at you worriedly.

He hates seeing you so riled up, so he often played the middle-man with your quarrels against Jake and Liv.

“Liv says she doesn’t wanna hear it. Sarah says forget it and I’m saying, I’m not fucking around this time Y/N, this is your last chance. I’m over your shit.” He hangs up the phone, leaving the line dead.

You jump face-first into the stiff bed, groaning loudly.

“Looks like you’re outta luck.” He pats you back, leaving you to sulk alone as he shuts the door. “Try to get some sleep.”

There was no way you ended up in this situation.

You guess, it was fair to acknowledge your recent streak of bad behaviour. First, it was tame — ignoring your phone, running away to party, getting mixed in the wrong crowds – eventually, Link had to start dragging you out of bed by the legs (sometimes kicking and screaming) just to make it in time for a gig.

You’re not sure when all of this started. All you knew is that you were so tired. You just wanted one second to breathe; to feel like that young child again, with hopes and dreams. But no, someone was always hovering over your shoulder ready to drag you away to another event you could care less about.

You close your eyes, allowing the jetlag and exhaustion to set in as your body moulds into the mattress.

–

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of Jenna’s hotel room. The large double door looks menacing and faintly, you can already hear a bustle on the other side. You really didn’t want to knock but you know what was on the line so you swallow your pride and raise a fist to knock.

But before you can knock, the door is opening revealing a girl, with dirty blonde hair bearing a semblance to a certain actress. “Oh, hi!”

“Hello.” You greet warmly.

“I’m Aliyah. Jenna’s younger sister.” She holds her free hand out.

You shake her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m–”

“I know who you are.” She smiled then laughed, “Everyone knows who you are.”

You chuckled, shyly nodding. “I guess.”

“Are you two done?” Jenna suddenly appears, yanking the door wider so you can see her. Her makeup complements her well; the green bustier two-piece looked expertly crafted just for her; and the way her hair fell in soft waves framed her face nicely.

“Hi…” You say a little vacant-sounding.

You don’t say anything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see her sister’s raised brow but you think you’re imagining it because you can’t keep your gaze off of Jenna. The actress raises her brow at you, impatient.

“What did you need?” She asks.

“Uh—I wanted to talk, about last night."

Jenna watches you momentarily before rolling her eyes; pulling you inside with a rough yank. “Get inside before someone sees you — Aliyah close the door.”

You stumble, still a little dazed but the smaller girl’s nails are gripping your arm painfully making you snap out of it.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You whisper, not inattentive to the multiple people scattered around the large room.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” She ignored your complaints and pulled you past the foyer into the living room – her entire team had taken refuge in the room to get the star ready for a day of press interviews.

Various echoes of your name and greetings are sent back to you but you certainly don’t miss the awkward tension in the room started by your sudden presence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can just go.” You point behind you.

“Nonsense.” An older woman that looked kinda like the actress waves off. “It’s great to have you here, Miss L/N. Jenna was just talking about you.”

“Oh please, just Y/N is fine.” Shaking your head bashfully, briefly wondering what she could be telling her family and team about what kind of person you are.

“I’m Jenna’s mom. That’s her dad, her other sister Mia, and her brother Markus.” She points and you try to keep up with the names of the people she’s throwing at you; Jenna’s family and team included.

“It’s so great to meet you all. It’s not hard to see that Jenna is so loved.” You say sincerely.

“We try our best.” Her dad says looking appreciative of your words. You smile at everyone and it seems to ease a bit of the tension in the room.

You didn’t see Jenna rolling her eyes again (her favourite to do around you) disregarding the encounter; she hides the surprise she feels from your genuine compliment.

Last night's argument with you, still burning in her brain.

“What did you want to say?" She says a little bluntly.

Watching as everyone turns to go back to what they were doing, you look down at Jenna. “Um… I wanted to apologize for last night. And call a truce, maybe over dinner?

She looks surprised not expecting you to be the first one to give in. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“I appreciate it.” Jenna cuts in, “I’m sorry too… a truce sounds good. Sarah got mad at me too, for what it's worth. She even said I was whining.”

Jenna jokes, dropping her walls a bit.

You rub a hand on the back of your neck, chuckling, “Good to know.”

“I can’t do dinner though.” She shuts her eyes as if remembering something.

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time.”

“Or maybe… you can be my date to the Scream cast dinner?” She offers, looking a little hopeful.

“Are you sure?” You chew your lip. Ignoring the word date.

“Yeah! Totally, you can meet everyone, it’ll be great. Not to throw anyone under the bus but they’ve been trying to meet you.” She says sheepishly.

You laugh, dropping your walls just a tad. “Sure I’ll be there.”

She smiles warmly, satisfied with your answer. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I guarantee there’ll be paparazzi, so it’ll be good for publicity. They’ve been hounding me since I landed, my dad nearly pushed a guy in the airport. I couldn’t even walk to the door by myself at the SNL dinner cast party.”

You lose a bit of the smile but Jenna doesn’t see, laughing at her memory of the paparazzi. You blink around, making sure no one saw you, it might give them the wrong idea. “Uh, yeah sure. I’m good with whatever.”

“Okay, cool.” She shoots a thumb up, walking away from you. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Mhmm.” You smile, waving goodbye to everyone and booting it out the door.

Unsure where the tension in your chest is coming from you swiftly walk to the elevator; aggressively tapping the button as if the elevator would come faster that way. And practically throwing yourself in the metal box as soon as it opens.

You miss the entire pandemonium that implodes in the room when you leave.

“Holy shit?” Mia exclaims.

“Language.” Her mom chastises.

“No, holy shit, indeed. Jenna oh my god what did you do to that poor girl?” Aliyah walks past Jenna to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“What are you talking about?” She looks at her sisters confused.

Mia’s rolling her eyes, standing up from the couch. “Did you not see the way she was looking at you?”

“No? How was she looking at me?” She turns to her mom who had a hint of a smile on her lips as if she knew something. Jenna was starting to feel left out.

“She likes you, Jen.” Her brother speaks up, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“What? You guys are crazy. We barely know each other.” Jenna starts shaking her head furiously, turning to Enrique, her stylist and close friend. “Enrique, tell them they’re being crazy.”

But he shrugs, sharing that same Cheshire grin her mom had. “God, not you too.” She clamps her eyes shut with her hands.

“Hey! Watch the eyes!” Her makeup artist warns.

“Dad?” She drops her hands, pleading at the silent man, who, she knows is listening. Why do Dads do that thing where they let everyone argue, only stepping in when the Mom asks for backup.

He remains in character – staying silent.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. She was literally here for five seconds. How could you possibly think she likes me from that.” Jenna turns to everyone else.

“I don’t know, Jen. The eyes never lie.” Mia says, privy to the way your smile fell when Jenna mentioned being spotted for publicity tonight.

“I’m– I’m late for interviews, I need to go,” Jenna mutters, grabbing her purse and walking to the door.

–

“This is gonna blow up.” Your producer says from beside you.

“I don’t know. I still think it’s missing something.” You sigh, sliding the headphones off as you slump onto the plush leather seats.

You sneaked off to the studio not too far from the hotel in lower Manhattan. See you would have told Link or anyone really, but you were trying to be discreet. And Link is one ‘ol snitch and the personal fun police.

It seems after your fight with Jenna, Jake and Liv put you under strict instructions not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by someone from your team.

You’re not a fucking child. You don’t need a babysitter. So here you are, with your producer in the studio trying to record this damn song you’ve been stuck on for three months.

“Maybe it’s time to scrap the song then.” He offers. “It’s never gonna be done before Coachella.”

Immediately you are shaking your head. No, this song is special, you can feel it. If only you can get your head out of your own ass long enough to find the damn words.

“No, just– just put it on hold. Let’s work on something else.”

He sighs, clicking the screen to pull up another file. “Your call.”

The buzzing of your phone against the wooden table echoes into the silence that grew as you waited. “Ah fuck.”

Reaching over, you grab the phone and are bombarded by a flurry of texts and missed calls.

Some from Jenna, some from your bodyguard and driver, most from Link.

Jenna’s is the first one you click.

The phone rings three times before it gets picked up. Muffled, loud voices are all you hear at first before she eventually speaks up, “Hello?”

“Hey, I am so–”

“Where the hell are you? You’re ten minutes late. We’re all waiting for you.” Her tone is sharp and snipped.

You had fucked up.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there– there was…. uh.” You stand, gathering your jacket and silently bidding your producer goodbye as he looks on confused. “There was a lot of traffic. I am so sorry, I’m trying to make it as fast as I can.”

She sighs through the phone, “It’s…fine. Just get here as soon as you can, please.”

A little white lie never killed anybody.

You make it to the restaurant in record time. Pushing through the paparazzi camping outside the restaurant doors. Do they have no shame? Clearly not as they shout Jenna’s name at you; asking if you were there to see her, trying to get their piece of the scoop. Thankfully, the security guard had seen you and personally ushered you to the cast‘s table. Someone must have informed them that you were coming.

You’re still blinking away the spots in your vision from the camera flashes when you feel an arm pulling you down to sit.

“What took you so long?”Jenna asked assertively, scanning you.

“I told you. Traffic.” You plaster a smile at all the eyes on you, subtly shrugging Jenna’s arm off yours with a little bit of attitude.

You don’t miss her clenched jaw. Plastering a smile in front of her costars who were trying their best not to gawk at you. "Well, where were you then? No one could get a hold of you, we were worried."

You tried your hardest to school your genuine surprise at her worry. "Sorry. I was working. My phone was off."

“Hi! I’m Melissa, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.” A brunette extends her hand from across the long table – interrupting Jenna before she can say anything else.

You make the usual greetings, introducing yourself to Jenna’s costars and colleagues. You felt a bit like a trophy wife if you were being honest. Like eye candy on her arm, serving only to make her look good. Upon that realization, you feel a little flushed. You’re not sure why, that is the whole point of this whole thing.

Her castmates have been sending you two knowing eyes over dinner — giving Jenna inconspicuous smirks and smug grins as if you couldn’t see. You keep your head down after the pleasantries are over and the main courses are brought out.

Grateful, you don’t have to talk about your upcoming projects any longer.

“What’s wrong?” You nudge her elbow, noticing how she was pushing away some pieces of food on her plate.

“I don’t like apples.” She mutters.

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you don’t tease. “Just push them off to the side and I’ll eat it.”

She looks at you. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You shrug taking a sip of your wine.

“That doesn’t gross you out or anything? I know some people are weird about that sort of thing.” Jenna explains.

“Dude, I’ll eat your apples, chill.” You laugh.

“Okay, thanks…” She mumbles, still looking at you but you turn, talking to Mason and his girlfriend.

Jenna feels a nudge on her side. “What?”

“You two are cute.” Jasmin smirks. “And Y/N L/N? Not a bad catch at all.”

“Stop.” Jenna blushes. Unsure if she feels uncomfortable that some of her close and respected friends believe this lie so easily.

–

“Hey, give them some space!” The security guard shouts as the paparazzi come rushing toward the door as soon as the cast steps out.

You were standing in the lobby waiting for Jenna. “Shit…” You hear her mutter, watching as she searches for something in her bag.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I forgot my sunglasses in my room. The flashes hurt my eyes.” She frowns. Wordlessly, you fish the pair you stashed in your jacket.

“Here, wear mine.” You hold the glasses out, watching as she just stares at it. Rolling your eyes, you push it toward her. “Dude, just take it.”

“Thanks…” She mumbles, sliding them up her hair.

You walk ahead of her, holding the door open as everyone trickles out. You’re regretting giving Jenna your only sunglasses cause the flashes are bright and it’s making your eyes water.

“Go ahead,” You usher, only leaving once everyone’s gone ahead of you. You trail behind ignoring the various men with large cameras chasing you as you walk down the sidewalk.

“Y/N over here, please! Just one photo.”

“Y/N, just one photo of you and Jenna, please!”

“What do you have to say about Vegas?”

You ignore them keeping your head down trying not to fall behind.

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear over the sea of nameless faces.

“Right here.” You say, sliding in beside her.

You miss the subtle sigh of relief she lets out.

“You can’t just walk behind everyone like that.” She grits, frustratedly.

"I tried to keep up." You mumbled like a scolded husband.

The shouting increases when you stand beside one another; practically rendering you blind with all the flashes. “Dammit.”

You place an hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Put on the sunglasses and walk.”

“Y/N, please over here. Jenna!” The shouting is constant and blurs altogether all at the same time.

“Ow.” You feel Jenna tumble when someone bumps her side causing her to bump harshly against you. Firmly, you grab her arm to preventing her from falling and pushed back against the crowd to check on her.

“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as she fixes the lopsided glasses. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Hey. Watch it–” You grit at the closest person holding a camera. “It wasn’t me.”

The man insists, still shamelessly snapping flashes directly into your face and you begin to grow angry, slapping the camera out of his hands. “I said fucking watch it, asshole.”

You glare for a brief moment as the shouting gets impossibly louder. Knowing if you didn’t pull Jenna out of this, chaos would ensue. You link hands and drag her through the crowd, briskly walking to her castmates who shared looks of concern.

“Are you okay?” You ask, still walking but now barricaded by security and her friends.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” She squeezes your hand but then sighs, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You scoff, “Are you serious? That guy pushed you.”

“It was an accident and you kinda overreacted.” She whispers lowly.

You clench your jaw, dropping her hand — Not wanting to blow up in front of her colleagues, you walk swiftly ahead.

You don’t talk even when you are both side-by-side being driven back to the hotel. Her driver has the partition up halfway but you see the nosy glances he keeps making at the rearview mirror as you and Jenna sit in silence; acutely aware to the growing tension between you and the actress.

You refuse to speak, just looking out the window as other cars pass by on the street.

“Are you done ignoring me now?” She speaks up but you still don’t want to talk. “Seriously?”

“Y/N all he did was push me. A little shove, that’s all. I’m okay. What’s not okay is the phone call you know we’re going to get from Liv and Sarah about that guy’s camera.”

“He deserved it.” You mumble through the palm holding your head up.

“I’m not saying he didn’t but you can’t just be aggressive to paparazzi like that. It’s exactly what they want.” She reasons, turning to you. Hoping you’ll finally look at her.

“I know…”

“Look at me, please?” She places a hand on your arm.

You turn, keeping your face impassive.

She sends you a shy smile then laughed. “I mean it though, thank you for having my back. My Dad is gonna think this whole thing is hilarious.”

“Why?” You can’t help but join in.

“He’s a cop, so he’s a little protective. He’s been waiting to shove away a pap for the longest time. He’s gonna be so mad you beat him to it.”

You laugh imagining her father’s reaction.

–

“You haven’t seen Scream? Not even the original?” Jenna turns bewildered like it was the most blasphemous thing she’s ever heard. You were in her hotel suite, watching movies. For some reason, Jenna invited you over to her room after being dropped off at the hotel. “How? You’re an actress.”

You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no so you accepted.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeez. Way to sound like a film snob. I didn’t know there was a checklist of movies to watch before becoming an actor.” You snort reaching for more popcorn from the bowl beside you.

“Shut up.” She hits you with the remote. “How have you not seen any of the Scream movies? You’re literally going to my premiere tomorrow.”

You hold up your hands in surrender, throwing a couple of kernels in your mouth. “Sorry, they’re not really my cup of tea.”

She rolls her eyes, snatching some popcorn from your hand, ignoring your protests. “Oh sorry, I forgot we have an action star in our midst.”

It was your turn to hit her arm, “Shut it. I just mean… I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. They’re not exactly short films.”

“You’re in the MCU and Dune. Don’t talk to me about long movies.”

“Touché…” You can’t beat her there. They are ridiculously long movies. Probably why you’ve only ever seen them during premiere night and never again. “Well, put one on then. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

She grins scrambling for the remote. “You’re on.”

You wait for her to pull up the Scream catalogue, chuckling at her visible excitement.

“Hey, why did you become an actress? and singer while we’re at it, Miss Grammy winner.” She nudges your shoulder.

You snort, shoving her lazily. “Shut up… Do you want the press interview answer or the real one?”

She raises a brow, immediately deciding. “The real one.”

You nod, feeling like she would say that.

“My mom... She was a rising star in the 80s but something happened and she never got to live out her dreams. When she had me she put me through all of the arts. I bumped and failed with most of them but acting and singing kinda stuck… I guess she saw those were the only two things I could stand so she pushed and pushed, it led to Jake discovering me and here we are.”

Jenna stays silent processing your story, she doesn’t miss the slight solemness your tone had taken. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"

You chuckle, licking your lips. "Caught me... it's why I don't talk to my parents anymore."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen I cut ties with them. She got too controlling, wanting money, wanting autonomy over my career so I took Link with me and moved to L.A. and did it on my own. I think... at some point acting became a spite thing with me because of her.

“Spite?” Jenna asks?

“Yeah… it was all I’ve ever known for a long time until I started making music. Probably the only time I’ve ever felt sure about a decision.”

"Oh..." Jenna finds herself saying again.

"Uh–sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. We can just forget about it." You curl into yourself, tugging the blanket to your lap.

Jenna blinks, feeling dumb that she's made you think her silence is a bad thing.

"No..." She grabs your wrist. "Thank you for sharing with me."

You look into her eyes, feeling a bit small at her kind eyes. You know it's not out of pity but you couldn't help but want to close up again.

Pulling your hand away from her grip, you cough. "Of course, we're friends now."

"Oh, are we?" Jenna ignores the drop in her chest when you pulled away like that. “Okay, what’s the press answer then?”

“That I watched the movie Cabaret when I was younger and wanted to be like Liza Minelli.” You admit.

Jenna scoffs, “That’s literally my answer.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah except, it’s Dakota Fanning in Man on Fire.”

You chuckle, “doesn’t Denzel die in that one?”

“Yeah and what about it?” She raised a brow.

"But see, don’t fight it we’re meant to be friends... we even share the same answer."

"Shut up, dummy. Every actor has some sort of answer like that.”

Eventually, the two of you start a marathon of the Scream franchise. Which in hindsight, is kind of a bad idea seeing as it was way past midnight and the other actress still has a long week ahead of her. It seems like the events of the day catch up to her cause you feel a head slipping on your shoulder; distracting your focus halfway through Scream 3.

Jenna had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. You fight the urge to tense up not wanting to wake her up. She looked like she needed the rest and you relate more than anyone to her exhaustion.

“Jenna…” You lightly tap, “You fell asleep, you need to go to bed.”

She grumbles, whining in her slumber. You feels your cheeks warm when she unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

Fuck.

Really?

God, I am not your strongest soldier.

“Jen, seriously. Wake up.” You shake her arm.

“What?” She complains, her words muffled by your collarbone.

“You need to go to bed.”

The feeling of her soft lashes brushing against the material of your shirt as she blinks sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh…”

Jenna mumbles mortified. Quickly pushing herself off of you, unable to look you in the eyes. “Sorry.”

You don't mention how she might have punched your stomach and that you were desperately trying not to cough.

“S’okay…” You shake your head softly. You couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell over her eyes messily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks once she regains her senses, waking up from her short slumber.

Something tells Jenna she won’t be sleeping with how fast her heart is pounding; uncertain as to where her sudden anxiety is coming from.

“Yeah… I’ll be waiting for you inside.” You stand gathering your belongings.

“Wait, you’re not walking the carpet with me?” Jenna pulled a face.

You raise a brow, “No? At least, I wasn't told I had to. They just said I had to show up.”

“Oh… okay.” She nods then sighed, long and profound.

You continue to raise a brow but don’t say anything. Not wanting to push her. You remember the last time you guys fought and are immediately turned off. No thanks, not trying to open that can of worms.

“Okay. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She leans against the door.

Her premiere is a success. After borderline shoving you inside a tinted Cadillac, Link brushes your vintage Prada gown down; making sure you are in tip-top movie-star shape. You don’t walk the carpet, instead heading straight inside – making headlines.

Your every damn move is a headline these days.

Silently thanking whatever God was out there that you didn’t because the way your jaw dropped when you see Jenna was downright embarrassing. Your reaction would surely have been a running piece if cameras were around.

Your managers would love it though.

Link had to forcefully elbow your side as Jenna walks up to greet you.

“Wow…” You manage to say. “You look stunning Jenna.”

Jenna was glad for the dim lights in the theatre, “Thanks.” She blushes, casting her eyes down.

“You look great too.” She scans you up and down, suddenly feeling warm under her gape.

Maybe it was the way her makeup is done or the deconstructed tuxedo for a dress that she had on tonight but she looked more mature, intimidating? Like she could throw you around a little and you’d just gladly ask her to do it again.

Wait, what?

“Thanks… Link and I should head to our seats but I just wanted to congratulate you. This is seriously amazing.” You express sincerely.

Jenna flushes more, waving you off with a huff and a lazy hand. “Please.”

“Seriously!”

Link coughs loudly, interrupting the bubble you and Jenna found yourselves in. “Okay, someone’s a little impatient. We better go.”

A hand reaches out, grabbing you. “Do you wanna, maybe, I don’t know. Sit beside me?”

You turn, surprised. “Oh? What about Enrique?” You glance at her stylist standing just behind her pretending like he wasn’t listening; fiddling on his phone.

“I’m sure he won’t mind switching to sit with Link, right Enrique?” She turns, asking her friend.

He grins widely, “Nope. All good with me!”

“Perfect!” She smiles at you, still grabbing your arm.

“We’ll be down there!” Jenna calls out to Link and Enrique linking your fingers out of nowhere as you walk to beside her costars.

You still don’t say anything when Jenna wraps herself around you when you make it to your seats, waving as people cheer with a large smile before pulling you to sit down.

Only then did she pull herself away, “sorry about that.”

“All good.” You mumble after realizing what happened; turning to face the large screen.

Perfect photo op.

“Hey is that sharpie on your dress?”

“Yes.” She sighs.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch but you can’t stop the growing unpleasantness in your chest. You decide to brush it off and save face for Jenna’s night. Your sulking and feelings can wait in the privacy of your own four walls and definitely not at a high-profile movie premiere.

By the time you found yourself at the NBC building in a random dressing room at the SNL studio, waiting for Jenna’s monologue you forget all about it. You lay lazily on a stiff and most likely old couch, scrolling through your phone.

A knock on the door has you pulling off your headphones. “Come in.”

“Hey Y/N.” A head peaks in making you sit up briskly. “Aliyah, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just uh– Jenna’s asking for you.” She sends a sheepish smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Oh,” Your head perks up. “Is she okay?” You question, following the smaller girl past hallways that all looked the same; trying not to bump into the various stagehands buzzing around.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s kinda freaking out, though and… we can’t get her to calm down.” You both stop at a closed door.

“Oh… why me?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Uh… okay she didn’t exactly say you but I saw your episode and you were hilarious and who better to talk her down than someone who’s done it before.” She flashes a large grin before opening the door and shoving you inside.

The room is empty save for Jenna dressed in a short-legged suit. You force yourself to blink, reminding yourself that you are on a time crunch.

“Jenna.”

She snaps her head at your voice, and a noticeable tremble in her fingers is the first thing you see. “What–what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in your seat by now.”

“Your sister asked me to come.” You admit, walking forward.

“I’m fine. Go to your seat, I’ll see you after the show.” She turns her back to you, looking over sheets of paper with multi-coloured inked notes scribbled on every open space.

“Take a deep breath for me, Jenna.” You walk closer, slowly bringing the hand tightly clutching her notes down. The bones in her fingers relax as she drops the paper. She doesn’t say anything when you don’t disconnect your hands.

You find yourself standing much closer to her.

“Take a deep breath.” You repeat.

Jenna closes her eyes, inhaling a long, deep and audible breath in then out. She clutches your fingers as she does so, unconsciously leaning back against you to ground her bubbling anxiety.

She stays in your hold with her back against your chest: a death grip on your fingers. Your swipe a thumb over the skin of her hand. “It’ll be okay…”

“Thanks…” Jenna looks into your eyes, taking one last deep breath.

Briefly, you hold her gaze feeling tepid under the intense look in her eyes. You can’t tell what they're saying but for some reason, the way her dark pupils seemed softer under the fluorescent lights had you under a spell.

And for a fleeting second, you thought she was leaning in closer to you — eyes flickering to your lips.

“Don’t mention it.” You drop her hand immediately, taking wide steps back.

Not liking the way her eyes flickered down.

You don’t like what that could possibly mean.

Jenna’s turning rapidly, pretending not to notice as you take sizable steps away from her. “What did my sister say?”

You laugh, shoving your hands in your jacket. “That she liked my SNL episode and thought someone who’s done it before can talk you down.”

“Talk me down?” She scrunches her nose.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” You shrug.

“Your episode was okay.” Jenna turns away to face a mirror, brushing away her bangs.

You take the bait, glad she wasn’t trembling anymore. “Okay? I got the whole cast to break, it’s considered a classic. It was nominated for an Emmy that year.”

“It didn’t win though.”

You scoff playfully, “I’m leaving. You clearly don’t need my help anymore.”

She laughs obnoxiously as you stomp out of her dressing room. “Wait.”

You stop just before you open the door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you… for talking me down.” She tucks a hair backs, a little shy.

The small smile creeping on your face is hard to subdue. “Don’t mention it. Now, go. You’re gonna kill it.” You wink, exiting the dressing room.

“She’s all good.” You tell her team.

“That’s it? She hasn’t calmed down all day, it takes you – what, five minutes?” Enrique crosses his arms. Jenna’s mom smirks, patting his back then walked past him and into the room as the rest of her family slowly trickled in; her sisters staring at you intensely.

“Uh sorry?” You blush furiously, walking off in the other direction to find your seat.

Jenna kills it, but that was never a surprise. You can tell she’s nervous throughout her monologue but after Fred Armisen does his bit – from beside you, which had been a pleasant surprise. She begins to grow confident, feeling pleased with your embarrassment when the camera pans to you and Fred.

You’d get her back for that. Making a mental note to cook up a special revenge plan, just for her.

Eventually, she falls into the role naturally. Nailing her punchlines perfectly, working the crowd like an expert, and exquisitely performing her skits. It’s a shock to you when you overhear someone behind you say she’s never done live stage work before.

She's so natural at it.

It's a privilege to watch her perform.

You nearly die when she changes into a red suit as she introduces the musical guest of the night.

Actually, you begin to slide off your seat when she comes out in a pinstripe suit — a reference to the Addams family you overheard in passing.

When credits roll and the ‘LIVE’ sign turns off. You remain in your seat. Unsure if you are just admiring her or if it’s ‘cause your legs no longer functioned. You can’t fight that admiration as it grows when you see how supportive her family is as they cheer her on and celebrate this win as one unit.

You smile, wishing you can relate. At least some people had that in their lives.

A part of you thinks it makes the whole world’s difference, having a support system like that. But you would never know.

Silently, you slip out the stage doors and back to the random dressing room you’ve decided to take refuge in.

You narrowly miss Jenna trying to find you through the masses; her smile dropping a bit when she realizes you’re gone.

–

You don’t get a chance to personally congratulate Jenna because Link was bursting into the dressing room — after complaining about trying to find you for ten minutes. Rambling on how you’re needed back in Los Angeles and there was no time to say goodbye.

When you catch the other actress it’s by pure stroke of luck. You're going through checkout at the hotel, waiting for Link to do all the work as you wait behind him.

You feel slightly guilty that you're just leaving without warning.

You should send Jenna a text, right? But would she even care if you left so suddenly? She did want you out of the city just a few days ago.

But then, you two literally just, might’ve, maybe, almost kissed/shared a moment in her dressing room, so who knows what you should do at this point.

You feel a migraine forming at the base of your skull, the longer you thought about the other actress.

“Y/N?” A voice breaks your self-deprecating thoughts. You turn to see Jenna with her team and family trailing beside her.

Jenna’s smile falls when she sees your bags. Her family walks ahead but you certainly don’t miss their curious eyes as she stops in front of you.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes keep flickering between you and your bags.

Link avoids her sharp, accusing eyes.

“Back to L.A. sorry I was just about to send you a text, actually.” You confessed, a little ashamed.

It felt like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing… like when you lie to your long-time partner about the real reason why you want some time apart.

“A text?” She raises an unamused brow not liking your answer.

“Yeah, Jake wants me back in L.A. Uh– sorry, was I supposed to tell you?” You ask, a bit confused.

“Tell me?” She scoffs, face dropping. “Yeah, you’re supposed to tell me. I was going to invite you to dinner to celebrate with my family and the SNL cast tonight. But you weren’t even in the audience anymore by the time I finished.”

“Sorry… I thought you’d want to celebrate with your family.” You shrug lamely, torn between feeling guilty and confused at her reaction to the news of your sudden departure.

She made it feel like you were trying to escape.

“Well, I thought–”

She cuts herself off with a huff then looked back as her family waits for her by the elevator.

“Thought what?”

As if remembering she was still out in a very public setting, after hosting one of the most recognizable programs in America; Jenna blinks out of it. Shoving her feelings down.

“Nothing. Have a safe flight back to L.A. I’ll see you in a few days… or weeks” She mumbles with an edginess to her words, walking away before you can say anything else.

“Tough break, buddy.” Link pats a comforting hand on your shoulder as you were rendered speechless. Unsure if you should chase her down and apologize.

Damn can she walk fast in those heels.

But, why would you be apologizing for having to do your job?

But the way her brow creased like she was actually upset caused an unpleasant drop in your chest. Not enjoying how she was upset and that it seemed like it was all your fault. You? Nah. Maybe she’s still dealing with other stuff and is just taking it out on you.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What. Just. Happened.” You turn, aggressively snatching your card from the hotel worker who definitely enjoyed the show.

“Are you blind?” He scoffs then walks away from you.

“What do you mean? Link… what do you mean?”

taglist is closed (if your @ can't be tagged it will be removed, DM me to fix it.)

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @jennasslut @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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not-poignant · 5 months

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Hi Pia

I'm so sorry you've been experiencing difficulties recently. I'm sending all my love and light your way and hope you start to feel a little less shitty soon.

P.s - Do you mind sharing your tiktok so we can follow you there too? Or is it a private acc?

Lots of love to you <3

It's not private! It's just not updated very often. Overall I'm more active on Instagram. But neither are private. The Tiktok is very art-focused so it might not be what you're looking for. But it's also pretty harmless overall.

And thank you anon <3

The last few days I had to stop writing and like...quickly redo my schedule for December and cut it back a little, which always makes me sad, but I'm trying to conserve my mental health as well as my physical. I realised I met all the criteria for a pretty serious depressive episode late last week (I have, alongside severe PTSD, Major Depressive Disorder, which is the one that will kill me if I don't keep an eye on it -> though I'm happy to report I'm not like in a very like 'I don't want to live' space right now, I can just tell I'm feeling / experiencing a lot of the red flags that go in that direction), and if I don't act now, that tends to lead to pretty bad places.

So I've redone the schedule for December and that will come out likely on Friday or Saturday. And then I'll only be posting during January for half of the month, and not the whole month, and taking off two weeks re: posting. Hopefully these are the sorts of things which will head off me needing to go into hiatus because I desperately don't want to do that <3

I can already tell I'm doing a little better after being a lot firmer with some boundaries, and also just...with myself re: taking more time off. I wish I didn't feel so guilty about it? But that's not anyone's fault here, that's shit to work on with my therapist/s, lol.

Today I spent around 3 hours researching a response to an ask (whoops), and then realised - not through any one person's actions but a bunch at once - that I need to kind of stop engaging with facecast stuff (nothing wrong with facecasting, the problem is wholly on me there and I wish I'd seen that sooner and saved people some pain and saved me from some rudeness).

I put away the shopping (we have a really good grocery delivery system here which is great for my disabilities etc.), and had some raspberries, and put on the Christmas tree lights.

I was so tired at lunch that I could only manage a bowl of cereal (and couldn't eat breakfast. I think my therapist would be like 'why are you putting three hours of research into responding to something instead of focusing on eating food' but well, whoops? Lol. To be fair I thought it would be way easier to answer, but Tumblr's search function is SO broken).

I fed my wonderful cat, Maybe, and got some sleep in the afternoon and then did some writing (1,200 words) on Palmarosa. It's like 7.00pm right now, and I'm going to put up some chapter commentaries on Patreon and Ream.

Tonight I might do some watercolour art, and I'm hoping to finish Palmarosa tomorrow.

December is actually a hard time of year for me anyway. It's the month that has the most chronological / time-based triggers, and my therapists know this and I'm hearing a lot of 'how are you in the lead up to December' which is about to become 'how are you coping with December.'

I'm grateful for small pleasures. Like my dahlias are looking pretty awesome right now. Here's some photos of this week (some art I'm working on, Maybe being cute, or screm, dahlia, Christmas set up, T-Rex ornament, Santa Platypus ornament):

#asks and answers #personal #lots of love to you too anon i hope you like the photos #that pride blanket was crocheted by my mum #i never have a themed christmas it's just #20 years of collected decorations salfjkas

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cleolinda · 11 months

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Varney the Vampire: Chapter 15

Chapter 14: So anyway, when do we kill him

I need to start this off with a full Previously On, and you’ll see why in a minute:

Fair damsel Flora Bannerworth was attacked one night by a befanged, leaden-eyed vampyre. Her mother mostly faints about it; it’s her two brothers, Henry and George, who have been trying to protect her and figure out what the fuck is going on. Their allies are their housemate/kinda-uncle, Mr. Marchdale, who was once their mother’s sweetheart before she chose the brothers’ shitheel father (RIP) instead; Flora’s recently returned fiancé, the virtuous young artist Charles Holland; and a Mr. Dr. Chillingworth, who thinks vampyres are bullshit. Amid several incidents where various Bannerworths shoot the vampyre, Henry realizes that the ancestor in a spooky portrait in Flora’s bedroom is one and the same. But also, a mysterious new neighbor keeps offering to buy the family estate. In the last two chapters, Henry and Marchdale paid a visit to this Sir Francis Varney, only to realize that HE is the vampyre/ancestor. Henry said to his face, “HOLY SHIT, YOU’RE THE VAMPYRE.” And the vampyre said, “Nah.”

None of these characters and none of these settings are in this chapter. Instead, two entirely new characters are introduced (for 4800 words). You are either going to love this, or you are going to hate this.

Chapter XV.

THE OLD ADMIRAL AND HIS SERVANT. -- THE COMMUNICATION FROM THE LANDLORD OF THE NELSON'S ARMS.

We've already been told that the servants (both the ones who immediately quit after the vampyring, and the replacements who reluctantly agreed to start working at Bannerworth Hall) have run out and told everybody in the neighborhood everything; Henry's already had total randos ask him about The Horrors. We're told now that:

The servants, who had left the Hall on no other account, as they declare, but sheer fright at the awful visits of the vampyre, spread the news far and wide, so that in the adjoining villages and market-towns the vampyre of Bannerworth Hall became quite a staple article of conversation. [...] Everywhere then, in every house, public as well as private, something was being continually said of the vampyre. [...] But nowhere was gossiping carried on upon the subject with more systematic fervour than at an inn called the Nelson's Arms, which was in the high street of the nearest market town to the Hall. There, it seemed as if the lovers of the horrible made a point of holding their head quarters, and so thirsty did the numerous discussions make the guests, that the landlord was heard to declare that he, from his heart, really considered a vampyre as very nearly equal to a contested election.

Ahhh, contested elections. Sad lol. But now, we're told, on the very evening of the day that Henry accused Varney of being a vampyre, and Varney just shrugged, two new characters that we don't know shit about have arrived:

One of these people was a man who seemed fast verging upon seventy years of age, although, from his still ruddy and embrowned complexion and stentorian voice, it was quite evident he intended yet to keep time at arm's-length for many years to come. He was attired in ample and expensive clothing, but every article had a naval animus about it, if we may be allowed such an expression with regard to clothing. On his buttons was an anchor, and the general assortment and colour of the clothing as nearly assimilated as possible to the undress naval uniform of an officer of high rank some fifty or sixty years ago. His companion was a younger man, and about his appearance there was no secret at all. He was a genuine sailor, and he wore the shore costume of one. He was hearty-looking, and well dressed, and evidently well fed.

James Malcolm Rymer's favorite humor format is Characters Who Don't Talk Classy Lmao:

"Heave to!" [the younger man] then shouted to the postillion, who was about to drive the chaise into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don't want to go into the dock." "Ah!" said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, do you hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d -- n you, nor bad language, you lazy swab."

Lol. Rofl, even.

The Younger Man is Jack Pringle, and he helpfully informs The Old Man, one Admiral Bell, that he has been his [the Admiral's] walley de sham on dry land for ten years. The Dictionaries of the Scots Language (before and after 1700) inform us that this term is derived from the French valet de chambre, a personal servant. (The search also turned up some British and Irish usage, and Jack does not otherwise sound Scottish, or even "Scottish.") Interestingly, when I googled this phrase, the image search tab pulled up nothing but Varney the Vampire illustrations. None of them had Jack or the Admiral.

I'm belaboring this point because about 85% of this chapter is just these two characters squabbling and it is draining my will to live.

"Be quiet, will you!" shouted the admiral, for such indeed he was. "Be quiet." [...] "Belay there," said Jack; and he gave the landlord what he considered a gentle admonition, but which consisted of such a dig in the ribs, that he made as many evolutions as the clown in a pantomime when he vociferated hot codlings.

"Hot Codlings" is a song from a Mother Goose pantomime. What evolutions are vociferating. Why are words doing this. Where are we.

Bruised and confused, the landlord of the Nelson's Arms is doing his best to be hospitable; finally, the Admiral reveals that he has been sent a letter asking him to stop at this very inn, here in Uxotter (which might be Uttoxeter), by one Josiah Crinkles:

"Who the deuce is he?"

I don't know, you're the one who just drove up! The landlord cannot seem to get anything useful out of his mouth for several lines, because James Malcolm Rymer gets paid more that way. Note: "d -- -- d" will show up several times; it's just "damned," censored, and it's the expletive these two mostly fall back on:

"I'll make you smile out of the other side of that d -- -- d great hatchway of a mouth of yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?" [The landlord:] "Oh, Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows. A most respectable attorney, sir, indeed, a highly respectable man, sir." [Several lines of banter] "To come a hundred and seventy miles to see a d -- -- d swab of a rascally lawyer!"

But then, Jack Pringle says something interesting:

"Well, but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues; but howsomedever, he may have for once in his life this here one of 'em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don't be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed of you."

Who in this story do we know named Charles? We'll get to that several hundred words from now. Meanwhile, a bit more of the rapport between Jack Pringle and the Admiral:

"You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you lubberly rascal?" "Cos you desarves it." "Mutiny -- mutiny -- by Jove! Jack, I'll have you put in irons -- you're a scoundrel, and no seaman." "No seaman! -- no seaman!"

The fact that this line does not end with the dialogue tag "he ejaculated" is one of literature's great tragedies.

This goes on for so long that it starts to take on a nonsensical—dadaist? that can't be right? what is happening. I don't know—quality:

"Confound you, who is doing it?" "The devil." "Who is?" "Don't, then."

Over a couple hundred words, Jack and the Admiral demand grog and a private room at the inn, and for the landlord to send for one Mr. Josiah Crinkles ("and tell him Jack Pringle is here too"). After jawing a while about how they'll serve this rascally lawyer out howsomedever, Jack says something interesting again:

"And, then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, you know. Lord love him, don't you remember when he came aboard to see you once at Portsmouth?"

And right when you think we might hear who Master Charles is, they start arguing again, this time about the time they were yard arm to yard arm with those two Yankee frigates (wait they were what now? when now? the War of 1812, maybe? they can't both be old enough for the American Revolution?) and "you didn't call me a marine then," which is insulting and distinct from "seaman" in some way,

"when the scuppers were running with blood. Was I a seaman then?" "You were, Jack -- you were; and you saved my life." "I didn't." "You did."

CHRIST ALMIGHTY THEY KEEP ARGUING ABOUT THIS (bickering is how they show they care) until finally the landlord, with a flourish, ushers in one Mr. Josiah Crinkles.

A little, neatly dressed man made his appearance, and advanced rather timidly into the room. Perhaps he had heard from the landlord that the parties who had sent for him were of rather a violent sort. "So you are Crinkles, are you?" cried the admiral. "Sit down, though you are a lawyer."

There is no respect for lawyers in the Admiral's house! Ship! Room! We are now about halfway through the chapter. God give me strength. The Admiral bids Josiah Crinkles read the full supercut of the letter from Josiah Crinkles, aloud. I will reproduce it in full whether you like it or not:

"To Admiral Bell. "Admiral, -- Being, from various circumstances, aware that you take a warm and a praiseworthy interest in your nephew Charles Holland,

CHARLES HOLLAND BABY

I venture to write to you concerning a matter in which your immediate and active co-operation with others may rescue him from a condition which will prove, if allowed to continue, very much to his detriment, and ultimate unhappiness. "You are, then, hereby informed, that he, Charles Holland, has, much earlier than he ought to have done, returned to England, and that the object of his return is to contract a marriage into a family in every way objectionable, and with a girl who is highly objectionable. "You, admiral, are his nearest and almost his only relative in the world; you are the guardian of his property, and, therefore, it becomes a duty on your part to interfere to save him from the ruinous consequences of a marriage, which is sure to bring ruin and distress upon himself and all who take an interest in his welfare. "The family he wishes to marry into is named Bannerworth, and the young lady's name is Flora Bannerworth. When, however, I inform you that a vampyre is in that family, and that if he married into it, he marries a vampyre, and will have vampyres for children,

Remember what I said about family stains and tainted bloodlines?

"I trust I have said enough to warn you upon the subject, and to induce you to lose no time in repairing to the spot. "If you stop at the Nelson's Arms in Uxotter, you will hear of me. I can be sent for, when I will tell you more. "Yours, very obediently and humbly, "JOSIAH CRINKLES." P.S. I enclose you Dr. Johnson's definition of a vampyre, which is as follows: "VAMPYRE (a German blood-sucker) -- by which you perceive how many vampyres, from time immemorial, must have been well entertained at the expense of John Bull, at the court of St. James, where nothing hardly is to be met with but German blood-suckers."

I was legitimately about five minutes from hitting post with this written as "I despair of figuring out who Dr. Johnson is," when suddenly I managed to dredge SAMUEL JOHNSON WITH THE DICTIONARY!! out of my covid-riddled brain. ~Dr. Johnson didn't define "vampyre" (any spelling), so whatever Rymer's on about here, he made it up himself with a wink to the reader.

I also wasn't going to deal with the fact that vampyres are suddenly German rather than Norwegian, or Swedish, or Levantine, or Arabian. But then I realized that this might be related to that time Empress Maria Theresa sent a guy out to deal with A Vampire Problem. (The fact that I'm the kind of person who would go, "Oh, right, the Austrian vampire problem" is why I'm recapping this godforsaken serial in the first place.) And you might refer to vampires as "German" because all the areas involved, including the Austrian Empire, were in the German Confederation at the time Rymer was writing in the 1840s. Referred to as "the 18th-Century Vampire Controversy,"

The panic began with an outbreak of alleged vampire attacks in East Prussia in 1721 and in the Habsburg monarchy from 1725 to 1734, which spread to other localities. [...] The problem was exacerbated by rural epidemics of so-called vampire attacks, undoubtedly caused by the higher amount of superstition that was present in village communities, with locals digging up bodies and in some cases, staking them.

I gotta refer you here back to Chapter 14 last week, in which we discussed a Romanian incident of this nature that happened in 2003. Meanwhile, back in the 18th century, some real-true vampire history is unfolding: this panic was the subject of Dom Augustine Calmet's classic Treatise on the Apparitions of Spirits and on Vampires or Revenants of Hungary, Moravia, et al. ("Numerous readers, including both a critical Voltaire and numerous supportive demonologists interpreted the treatise as claiming that vampires existed.") The hysteria spread to Austria, where Empress Maria Theresa sent her personal physician to sort this shit out; there is a movie somewhere to be made about Gerard van Swieten, Vampire Hunter. Except for the fact that he came to the conclusion that vampires were bullshit in his report, Discourse on the Existence of Ghosts; as a result, Maria Theresa decreed that her subjects must stop digging up corpses and doing unfortunate vampire-hunter things to them. (Or is that just what they wanted us to think??) "Dr. Johnson's" definition of vampyres as German could have been referring to any/all of the Controversy, and it has more real-life historical basis than Vampyres of Norway. So I'll allow it. *gavel*

by which you perceive how many vampyres, from time immemorial, must have been well entertained at the expense of John Bull, at the court of St. James, where nothing hardly is to be met with but German blood-suckers.

Wait, what?

Is this referring to young Queen Victoria's husband, Prince Albert, being German? Is this like the mystifying snark about "German princes" earlier? Have I finally cracked this? British citizens were chortling over their penny papers at such political humor, I guess?

Meanwhile, the Admiral is bellowing; the lawyer is stammering. What we come to understand, after all my digressions about German vampyres, is:

Josiah Crinkles didn't write this letter.

And he has no idea who did. He's only heard of Admiral Bell "as one of those gallant officers who have spent a long life in nobly fighting their country's battles, and who are entitled to the admiration and the applause of every Englishman." Well, when you put it that way: Jack and the Admiral decide that Josiah Crinkles, Esq., is a fine and honorable gentleman, even if he is a lawyer! I sure hope you didn't have anywhere you meant to go today!

"No. I'm d -- -- d if you go like that," said Jack, as he sprang to the door, and put his back against it. "You shall take a glass with me in honour of the wooden walls of Old England, d -- -e ["damn me"?], if you was twenty lawyers."

Uh, slow down with the false imprisonment there. What Josiah does know is a little bit about the Bannerworth family, by which I mean everything, and we're gonna hear all about it, again, because James Malcolm Rymer got bills.

There is still another 1700 words left in this chapter, by the way.

"Shiver my timbers!" said Jack Pringle, [...] -- "Shiver my timbers, if I knows what a wamphigher is, unless he's some distant relation to Davy Jones!"

Jack Pringle's interpretations of the word "vampyre" is maybe my favorite thing about the entire serial.

Jack and the Admiral bickering for another 300 words is maybe my least favorite thing about the entire serial. WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE VAMPYRE? "It appears that one night Miss Flora Bannerworth, a young lady of great beauty, and respected and admired by all who—Jack and the Admiral are still bickering. Nobly, Josiah Crinkles continues to recap chapters 1 and 2 for us (in fairness, this may have actually been helpful to penny dreadful readers in 1845). But what of the Admiral's nephew? Josiah knows nothing, much less what was written in the letter. You'd think it was Varney being nefarious, except that I don't know how he would know anything about Charles, either. One wonders who might.

[A couple hundred words of bickering]

The Admiral asks Josiah what he would do about a nephew who "has got a liking for this girl, who has had her neck bitten by a vampyre, you see."

[Josiah:] "Taking, my dear sir, what in my humble judgment appears a reasonable view of this subject, I should say it would be a dreadful thing for your nephew to marry into a family any member of which was liable to the visitations of a vampyre." "It wouldn't be pleasant." "The young lady might have children." "Oh, lots," cried Jack. "Hold your noise, Jack." "Ay, ay, sir." "And she might herself actually, when after death she became a vampyre, come and feed on her own children."

I did not remember any of this when I wrote the Consequences of Your Decision to Propagate the Family Stain section, and I'm starting to feel very smart for putting it in.

"Whew!" whistled Jack; "she might bite us all, and we should be a whole ship's crew o' wamphigaers. There would be a confounded go!"

For some reason, this bit is just absolutely fucking iconic to me. Indeed, Jack. In case of wamphigaers, the go would be confounded.

The Admiral steels himself to see "to the very bottom of this affair, were it deeper than fathom ever sounded. Charles Holland was my poor sister's son; he's the only relative I have in the wide world, and his happiness is dearer to my heart than my own." Having changed his mind about d-- -- d lawyers, Jack Pringle wishes Josiah Crinkles well, and he and the Admiral resolve to go find Charles at once—"our nevy," that is to say, "nephew," so—our nephew? Well, Jack and the Admiral definitely have an "argumentative life partners" vibe, be they employer and walley or not. So they'll go see Charles,

"see the young lady too, and lay hold o' the wamphigher if we can, as well, and go at the whole affair broadside to broadside, till we make a prize of all the particulars, arter which we can turn it over in our minds agin, and see what's to be done." "Jack, you are right. Come along."

As I've said, I did read halfway through the entire serial some ten years ago. These two are (give or take) 67% exhausting and 33% hilarious when deployed at just the right narrative moment. I'll run the numbers again once we're a few more chapters in.

Varney the Vampire masterpost

#varney the vampire #vampire studies #wampfaster wamplonger wamphigher #wamphigaers #a confounded go #vampires #long post #recaps

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mejeryde55 · 3 months

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amplesalty · 2 years

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Halloween 2022 - Day 20 - Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (1994)

Wes Craven, you’ve done it again!

Well, we’ve come to the end of another of my blu-ray boxsets that have served me so well over recent years and it’s an end of sorts to what could be considered the core Freddy series, though there is still the Friday the 13th crossover and remake after this. Actually, there are two Friday the 13ths next year in January and October. So in January I can watch Jason X and then in October I can do Freddy vs Jason., then I’ll be pretty much done with both series except their remakes. I’ve inadvertently synced this up perfectly.

But that’s next year, for now we’ve got New Nightmare which, for all the times I’ve complained about endless sequels stuck repeating the same format, this one takes the unique approach of taking the monster out of the movie and into ‘real life’. I know one of the Human Centipede sequels takes elements of that but I’m not sure how much that concept has been used outside of that. I suppose you do need this kind of franchise in order to try that idea because you need that established character and brand behind it to really work. You could do it as a one shot movie but I can’t imagine it would be as effective as you’d be coming to this universe and cast of characters totally fresh so it wouldn’t make a difference if they were ‘real’ people being killed or characters in a story.

This meta idea stretches even into the name of the movie itself, obviously being a play on how Wes Craven originated the series and this is his new, fresh take on it but also in the movie itself it’s said that he’s writing a new Freddy movie, only for it to turn out that he’s precognitively writing these ‘real life’ events, right down to conversations he has with Heather Langenkamp. He’s seeing these events play out in the nightmares he has and then writes them down when he wakes up. And it’s said the original movie was made in the same way too. Where in reality it’s said to have been inspired by reports of Cambodian refugees who mysteriously died in their sleep.

Craven plays a normal version of himself here who seems pretty calm about the whole thing, especially given that he says that Freddy is an extension of an evil supernatural entity that was suppressed by the filming of A Nightmare on Elm Street and its sequels. But, with the franchise being in hiatus after Freddy’s Dead, it manages to manifest itself as Freddy and bring itself into the real world. Where I thought they might be going is the inadvertent popularity of Freddy somehow empowering the entity because there is a scene earlier on that takes place at a chat show where Robert Englund bursts through a wall in full makeup, whipping the crowd into a frenzy and he runs around giving people high fives. It’s almost like he has a cult following, so maybe you could have somewhere Craven is an agent of some dark, shadowy group and was writing these movies to inspire fear in the general public which this entity fed off, only with each passing sequel where Freddy became goofier, Craven now has to convince someone to essentially be a copycat killer in real life to create that hysteria again. Which would add another strange layer of metaness as it’s sort of his attack against how his creation was taken away from him and bastardized.

The other idea they apparently had was that Craven in the movie would have been driven so mad by the franchise and writing this new story that he had actually taken to cut his own eyelids off so that he would never sleep again. Which, whilst I do kinda like that idea in that it would add to this whole ‘curse’ almost that seems to eminating from the Nightmare franchise in this film, how all these different technicians and actors have bad things happening to them, going by what involvement he does have, Craven doesn’t seem like he’d be able to pull that off. Which, fair play to him, he’s not an actor so you can’t judge too harshly. The idea that he would use this as a means of bashing the previous movies isn’t that far fetched given that one of the characters in the movie is a nurse who views horror films as a bad influence on kids and is even named after a critic who was critical of the violence in the Nightmare films. That piece of writing is so much on the nose that you might as well call it a spot.

The movie almost feels a little bit like an alternate take on the often mentioned on this blog Nightmare 2 in that Freddy isn’t in the movie a great deal but it’s more the mythos around him that is inspiring fear and paranoia within people. It certainly pokes at the whole ‘shades of grey’ thing I like so much in that maybe this is all on the level or maybe it’s all in the head of Heather Langenkamp. There are some Stephen King vibes too in that ‘group of people sharing similar dreams/visions’ sort of way, including Robert Englund who just mysteriously vanishes half way through the movie giving only a vage answer phone message that he’s going away for a while. I don’t quite know what they were going for here because they were sort of hinting at him having something going on as he was painting this vivid images of this new, darker Freddy so I don’t know if he was meant to be a red herring of sorts that he goes off radar right around when the killings start happening or if it’s just meant to be suggestive of an off screen death, that maybe Freddy went after him for tarnishing his image or something. But if it was that, wouldn’t that have been nice to see; Freddy Krueger killing off the actor that portrays him?

That does underline the fact though that Freddy is absent for a lot of the movie and even when he does show up, the movie is lacking a lot of that creativity it has in the other movies in terms of the extravagant kills that they’re afforded from taking place in the dream world. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, I appreciate the different direction it takes with the psychological trauma that Langenkamp and her son are going through as a result of all these weird things that are going on but I’ve always praised the series for the death scenes being a cut above some of its rivals and I can imagine there would be large parts of the fanbase that would sorely miss them.

Langenkamps son, Dylan, is an interesting case because for a lot of the movie he only seems to have 2 settings; robotic creepiness or Excorcist level screaming, right down to the projectile vomiting. Similar to Arnie in Terminator though, the roboticness kinda works when you have scenes where Langenkamp wakes up in the middle of the night to find Dylan pacing back and forth saying ‘Never sleep again. Never sleep again.’ There is one scene where he’s shown to be watching clips from the first movie and there’s this element of thinking he’s just been freaked out by it, which is questioned by the aforementioned character named after the critic. It does tie in to this other meta element where Craven is exploring the very phenomon of horror movies themselves and the possible effects they can have on young people who watch them. That would have been an interesting way to take the movie as well if they’d stripped back a lot of the other weird stuff that was happening to other people, you could have it assumed that Dylan just watched the movie and all these mentions of Freddy coming to get him as his imagination before it comes out that Freddy actually is real.

The whole wider look at horror movies extends to the plot point about the earlier movies somehow trapping this entity, there are a series of interview clips with Craven on the blu-ray and one of them has him suggest that where censors might try to cover up these violent movies, perhaps they are suppressing some of the more violent acts in our our lives. I’m not sure if he means as like a distraction from murders on the news or war etc or he’s suggesting there’s less murderers in the world because they’re getting their fix by watching Freddy do it on screen. Who knew Freddy was secretly methodone for serial killers all along?

All in all, a good finale for the series and a serious redemption after Freddy’s Dead. I’m all for taking sequels in interesting new directions and of course I’m a sucker for any movie that plays with the viewer and leaves them wondering just how much of what is going on actually is going on. Though, if anything, I would have liked it more if they’d taken it even further in that direction and really had some of the events seem like they were just in Langenkamp’s head. Like when she does to go to identify the body in the morgue convinced it was due to Freddy, maybe pull back the cover to find no claw marks. But yeah, I’m not sure how much of the series is really considered ‘core’ or not, maybe this set only goes so far because of licensing issues with the crossover and remake but this has been a well above average franchise to watch which is a good achievement when you get 7 movies deep and only really have one stinker amongst them. Even if New Nightmare was the weakest performer of the bunch at the box office (which as silly as it sounds, I wonder how much of that is down to the fact it doesn’t mention Freddy or Elm Street in the title), it certainly drew it’s plaudits and served as a grand sendoff to the series on it’s tenth anniversary. You see, we’re in sync again.

#Halloween 2022 #A Nightmare on Elm Street #A Nightmare on Elm Street 7 #Wes Cravens New Nightmare #New Nightmare #freddy krueger

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xipiti · 2 years

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[EDITED TO ADD:]This post is about 2 cats who are named Jean and Jorts, cat tax HERE :

UPDATE is here

THE STORY We have two workplace cats in one area of our worksite. They add value to the worksite, we all love the cats and the worksite cat presence is not the issue. One of the cats (Jean) is a tortoiseshell cat we have had for years. The other cat (Jorts) is a large orange cat and a recent addition.

Jorts is just… kind of a simple guy. For example, Jorts can’t open a door even when it’s ajar— he shoves it whether he is going in or out, so often he closes the door he is trying to go through. This means he is often trapped inside the place he was trying to exit and meows until he is rescued.

My colleague Pam (not her real name) has been spending a lot of time trying to teach Jorts things. The doors thing is the main example — it’s a real issue because the cats are fed in a closet and Jorts keeps pushing the door closed. Jean can actually open all the other interior doors since they are a lever type knob, but she can’t open this particular door if she is trapped INSIDE the closet.

Tortie Jean is very nice to poor orange Jorts, and she is kept busy letting him out of rooms he has trapped himself in, so this seems easy to resolve. I put down a door stop.

Pam then said I was depriving Jorts of the “chance to learn” and kept removing the doorstop. She set up a series of special learning activities for Jorts, and tried to put these tasks on the whiteboard of daily team tasks (I erased them). She thinks we need to teach him how to clean himself better and how to get out of minor barriers like when he gets a cup stuck on his head, etc. I love Jorts but he’s just dumb af and we can’t change that.

Don’t get me wrong— watching her try to teach Jorts how to walk through a door is hilarious, but Jean got locked in the closet twice last week. Yesterday I installed a cat cutout thing in the door and Pam started getting really huffy. I made a gentle joke about “you can’t expect Jean’s tortoiseshell smarts from orange cat Jorts” which made Pam FURIOUS. She started crying and left the hallway, then sent an email to the group (including volunteers) and went home early.

In her email Pam said I was “perpetuating ethnic stereotypes by saying orange cats are dumb” and is demanding a racial sensitivity training before she will return. I don’t think it’s relevant but just in case, Pam is a white person in a mostly minority staff (and no she is not ginger/does not have red hair).

TL;DR: AITA for ‘enforcing an ethnic stereotype’ by joking that orange cats are often dumb?

The Update:

Original HERE

Thanks for responding to my query which had truly upset me. I work to have a good relationship with my team and the situation had gotten weird so gradually that I lost perspective.

I just met with HR, she had already met with Pam. HR was concerned about Pam’s comparing ethnic stereotypes with giving a cat a doorstop and they addressed that which went well. HR will follow up to make sure Pam understands. (The replies to my query were helpful to me for this discussion.)

HR also addressed Pam assigning other staff Jorts-related tutoring, as it is not appropriate for Pam to assign others work. This also went well.

We both think Pam had a hard time with the transition from volunteer to staff, and may have “new kid” sensitivity projected to Jorts. Pam got emotional about her perception that I favor Jean over Jorts and gave specific examples. Some of these things are fair. Jorts deserves respect as a member of our team.

There are 3 buildings in our workplace. Jean and Jorts are limited to one. HR told me there were 5 holdouts about vaccines, and restricting unvaccinated people from entering the building (to protect Jean and Jorts) was enough to win over 4 of them. That’s CRAZY, but great.

More importantly: the cats’ presence greatly enhances our work with our clients, and Jorts’ friendly nature has been so great. Both cats truly are doing important work. Truly Jorts deserves to be treated with respect.

We all deserve to be treated with dignity at work, so I will apologize to Jorts about some things that were insensitive or disrespectful.

a. Jean has a nice cat bed with her name on it, while Jorts has chosen an old boot tray in my office with a towel in it. Recently a visitor put wet boots in the boot tray and Pam saw Jorts sleeping on the wet boots. I bought a bed for Jorts today and a name tag has been ordered.

b. I will apologize to Jorts and remove the sign saying “DAYS SINCE JORTS HAD A TRASH CAN MISHAP: 0” Jorts likes to fish dirty paper cups out and he often falls into the bin or gets a cup stuck on his head, etc. (He is able to get out of the bin by tipping it over so it isn’t a safety issue.)

c. Jean’s “staff bio” has a photo of Jean, while Jorts’ bio has a photo of a sweet potato. I did not actually know either cat had a staff bio, but we will use a photo of Jorts instead of a sweet potato.

HR also suggested changing Pam’s duties so she is “in charge” of the cats. This I refused, the cats are my staff, not Pam’s. I think Pam was well-intended but actually not meeting the needs of either Jean or Jorts so they remain under my supervision. (Pam is also not to put cups on Jorts’ head or intentionally put him into frustrating situations given his unique needs.)

Lastly, and this made us both laugh so hard we can’t deal with it in person and will be said via email: Pam admits that she has been putting margarine on Jorts in an attempt to teach him to groom himself better. This may explain the diarrhea problem Jean developed (which required a vet visit).

Pam is NOT to apply margarine to any of her coworkers. Jean has shown she is willing to be in charge of helping Jorts stay clean. If this task becomes onerous for Jean, we can have a groomer help. I am crying laughing typing this.

added: I’m so glad this brought joy. Fan mail can be directed to jortsandjean @ gmail dot com.

or follow the Jorts and Jean joke account on twitter @JortsTheCat

#i’m dying lmao #pls #do not butter jorts #orange cats #Jorts the cat #reddit aita #day since jorts had a trash can mishap #text version

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

#dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maribat fanfic #maribat #maribat fic #miraculous ladybug x dc #bio!dad John Constantine

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea!

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Troubled - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, Kinda Angst(?), Storyline

Summary: Even though the two have been dating for about 2 years, Bakugou never knew about Y/N’s troubling life. With Y/N being lost and needing to find herself again, here’s how he finds out.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Bakugou and you were so happy. The relationship was incredible. He loved you and you loved him. You were both so loyal to one another, so protective, so honest...sorta. That’s where you faltered a bit. You see, you had a secret.

In the 2 years that you have been together, it was obvious that you’ve already met Bakugou’s parents. However, he never met yours. You told him “they’re really strict. I doubt they want me to be dating so I don’t think it’s best for you to meet them just yet. Don’t worry, they’re awesome! Just overprotective.”

And like the good, loving, trusting boyfriend he is, he believed you! He so badly wanted to change your parents’ minds but he’ll meet them whenever you’re comfortable. He can wait. But it sucks that he could never go over even when there were times where it would just be you and him. Apparently your parents “didn’t allow anyone over while they were away.” Whatever, fair. He still loved you regardless. And besides, you always went over to his house anyway! So everything was fine.

You fed him these lies and kept the truth away from him. In reality, you did have parents. Divorced parents. A loving mother who is sadly always working from early mornings to late nights and a runaway father who eventually got a new family with new kids.

Your father left you. He left you and your mother when you were just 5 years old and you never told anyone. This caused you to be so..angry..and confused..and hurt. Your busy mother was never around to help you cope and so you resorted into actions. You took on this rebellious bad girl persona. Yes you were in the hero course, but you put up a front that displayed you as the rotten apple among the group. You were still lovable and very friendly (a little teasing but still) and people loved you. What they didn’t love was when you went over the top with your bad girl image and even Katsuki got a little peeved at it from time to time.

—

“Your homework assignment: Create a visual or report on the history of Japan’s hero industry. Japan has had a lot of unfair rules when it came to heroes and so it’s your turn to speak on them, who rebelled against them, and tell us something you rebel against. I expect it to be done next week. Don’t forget it...understand L/N?” Aizawa said as he stared you down.

You sat with your legs crossed with your chin in your hand as you blew a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, we’ll see how well that goes.” You sarcastically said with a nose scrunch and devious smile.

The bell rang and students began to leave the classroom. You caught up with your boyfriend, Katsuki, who waited for you at the door. You pecked his cheek before you both began walking to the dorms.

“Hey, dumbass,” He called for you.

“Yeah Suki?”

“You are gonna do the assignment right?” He questioned. You chuckled a bit as you looked at him.

“Suki, c’mon. We both know that’ll never happen.” You said with a laugh but Bakugou just looked at you with a concerned face.

“And why not? You know you can do it and you choose not to. For what? You act like they won’t kick you out of UA.” He reminded you.

“Because they won’t. It’s just homework and I make up for it by excelling at everything else,” you said proudly but he wouldn’t budge.

“Okay but first it was skipping class, then it was skipping school, now it’s dropping class and home work. When are you gonna get off this bad streak?” He asked. You felt a little hurt due to the misunderstanding. He truly didn’t understand but that wasn’t his fault. You didn’t say anything so you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Never!” You laughed, “I’ll be fine Katsuki. Besides, you like my bad side. It makes us balanced. You’re the rowdy and rude hidden Angel and I’m the sweet and pretty devil.”

“Heh, so I’m not pretty?” He jokingly asked. You faced him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You’re the prettiest,” you joked with him. You both giggled a bit before sharing a sweet kiss for a moment. You both separated and you began to walk hand in hand as you led the way.

“But seriously babe, be cautious. Okay? S’all im asking for. And at least try to do your homework. There’s no reason for you to be acting up like this.” He said but his words stung a bit. He..really...didn’t understand....at all. Your eyes went wide but you minimized them before turning to face him. You grew slightly silent as you stopped walking for a bit and he looked at you with a concerned yet serious face.

“....Um...yeah. Sure. And you’re right Suki. There’s uh.....no reason for this.”

—

After Katsuki walked you home, he kissed you goodbye for now before you walked into your very empty home. You sighed at the quiet and walked to the kitchen to find another note and your dinner placed in tupperware.

‘Hi baby. I’m sorry I’m not home again. I’ll be back later tonight. I have your dinner all set, just heat it up before dining.

Love you, -Mom’

Great. Another empty house for the umpteenth time in a row. You appreciated everything your mom did for the two of you. I mean, she is working 3 jobs to pay for the house and your school. Not to mention, put food on the table. But sometimes you couldn’t help but hate her for being gone so much. You missed her.

You took a shower and changed into some sleeping clothes. You brought your school bag with you to the kitchen and placed it on the seat before heating up your dinner. While waiting, you pulled out your homework.

Listen, it’s not that you didn’t want to do the homework. It’s more so that you couldn’t. You weren’t the smartest student and a lot of the time, you’d need help with the work. In class, it was easier because you had Katsuki but recently he’s been a little busier so you didn’t wanna be a bother. You didn’t wanna ask anyone else and so you resulted into helping yourself in some way. People always told you to confine in the help of your parents but one of them was gone and the other was always busy. There’s no one that could help.

You read the itinerary and came to the conclusion that it was just too hard for you to understand on your own. It would have to be another failed assignment but whatever. It was just one of many. You ate dinner, put away your work and bags and opted to sleep. Just drift away into dreamland where things were better. Where your dad was still a part of your family. Where your mom didn’t struggle in bringing home cash. Where you were a better student and person who did her work.

—

A Week Later

“So did your little brat ass even write down a sentence?” Your boyfriend teasingly asked.

“What do you think Suki?” You said with a smirk as you faced him from your desk. His eyes went wide as he stilled in his seat next to you.

“...Did you even try?” He asked, worried for your academic career and you. He tried encouraging you all week and you didn’t do anything?

“Relax babe. I opted for a visual,” you said with closed eyes and a smile. He smiled too, proud of you for getting it done.

“You actually did it? Nice work princess,” he said and leaned over to peck your cheek but you only giggled as you clarified.

“Well, more or less.” You said as you stated ahead with a smirk.

“More or less? The hell does that mean Y/-“ he was cut off by the sound of the door opening and their teacher walking in. Aizawa had walked up to the podium and began role-call. Eventually, he made it to the topic of homework and his attention was immediately focused towards you.

“L/N!” Aizawa called out in a non-aggressive or angry way. More like his form of enthusiasm.

“Yes sir?” You replied back with actual enthusiasm.

“Time to present your homework.”

“Can’t do that sir.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t do my homework sir.”

“Why not?”

“That’s what I’m rebelling against sir.”

You smiled with a very devious demeanor and Aizawa sighed again before he continued. “Did you at least do anything for the assignment?”

“Sort of. But I’m gonna need a certain someone else to go first. Iida, I’m talking about you,” you said turning to face the very robotic and precise young man.

“I’d be glad to present first!” He said and quickly left to the hallway to bring in his visual. Now, the reason why you called on Iida first was because you knew he’d be the only one to actually do a visual and he went above and beyond. Aka, he used sparklers to give it a “wow factor” for creativity points. You would know. You had watched him do his work to see what you can rip off of him but oh well. A new plan already came into mind and so here we are!

Iida walked in with his visual to stand at the front of the doorway and yes, the sparklers were lit! You smiled at the sight and only allowed him to get a sentence out before you interrupted.

“Perfect! Thank you Iida!” You said as you got up. “But now I’m gonna need to show my assignment. You just stay right there.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou quietly called out as he watched you walk around to every student.

“Now, I’m gonna need a piece of everyone’s assignment. So I’ll take this,” you said and took Denki’s paper off his desk and went for everyone else’s as well. You lastly took Bakugou’s before walking over to Iida and taking a sparkler.

“So! For my assignment based on a rebellion, I chose to ignore the whole history part and decided to show you what’s gonna be happening in the now. This is my rebellion. Homework! Why all the homework, Aizawa?” You asked as you walked back to your desk. You kept talking as you kept walking. “We wake up at early hours, go to school, then go to hero school/training and head home with more work to do aka homework. As students, we never get to take control of what we want to do because we’re so preoccupied with school, school, school.”

“L/N...” Aizawa warned as he watched you stand on your desk.

“My rebellion? No homework, more freedom.” You said and began to bring the spark close to all the paper assignments but Aizawa snatched them out of your hand before you and the chance to start a fire.

“Al-Alright! That’s enough L/N!” He warned but you stood firm as you raised the sparkler to the roof.

“No homework, more freedom! No homework, more-“ You were cut off by the sprinklers being activated due to the spark being so close. Students ran out the room to avoid the water but Bakugou stayed with you along with Aizawa as the three of you became soaked.

10 minutes later

You and Katsuki waited outside the room together waiting for Aizawa to return to most likely scold and reprimand you. You were both drenched in water as you looked towards the ground and Katsuki grinded his teeth together. While waiting, it was clear your own boyfriend had been pissed with your actions and surprisingly, he decided to scold you as well.

“What the hell was that all about Y/N!?” Bakugou shouted as he stepped infront of you staring you down. You looked up at your boyfriend in shock. You’ve known each other ever since Junior High and not once has he ever been truly angry with you and your rebellious side. So this shouting was a shock to you.

“What? I did the assignment. I showed what I rebelled against-“

“Y/N quite acting like a dumbass! You know what I mean!” He shouted again. “You’re smart! I know you are! You have intelligence and yet you refuse to do anything useful with it! You get yourself into so much damn trouble and I’ve been trying my fucking best to lead you away from that shit but nothing seems to work! I want you to be yourself and I love you with my everything but this bad girl image isn’t you! Do you even realize how fucking disrespectful and wild you get sometimes?! It’s getting out of hand!”

You bit your lip as you looked to the floor once more. A silence over came the two of you.

“I’m sorry..” you softly said while looking up at him before the silence had a chance to grow alarmingly loud.

“I am too! Because you go too fucking far!” He said with stern eyes and a booming voice. You felt tears reach your eyes and you tried to blink them away as you looked at him and spoke again.

“....I have no one at home who helps me with my homework...” you said brokenly. Bakugou looked at you with a confused and kind of worried face as another silence grew. You said nothing and did nothing as you walked away from him, not even bothering to wait for Aizawa anymore and just went home.

—

Bakugou constantly tried to reach out to you. He called you always, spammed you with texts, left voicemail after voice and nothing. After that day, you stopped going to school. Bakugou occasionally tried going to your house to knock on the door, but it wasn’t too often due to him still believing your “strict parents” story. And either way, you never opened the door.

On the inside of your home, you were in your room. You ignored all of Bakugou’s attempts to contact you. You couldn’t be around him right now. You couldn’t be around anyone right now. You didn’t even wanna be around anyone at home but I guess that was the usual already. Your mom was too focused on working to notice her sad child but luckily she was also too busy to notice the constant phone calls from the school trying to inform her of her child’s absences. She always had a meal prepped for you when you “returned home from school,” and so that would be your meal. Including anything else you guys had laying around in the kitchen.

Days past by and most of the time, you were in your room staring down at the homework itinerary. You constantly thought about Bakugou’s words.

“You’re smart! ...... This bad girl image isn’t you!”

Was he right? You had no idea. Your dad left when you were five and it blindsided you. You’ve been lost and in the dark for 11 years. Was this bad girl who you were? Were you smart? Did you even know who you really were? You would constantly stare at yourself in the mirror trying to figure out and recognize who the girl in front of you was but you never figured it out. You thought you did but maybe you were wrong.

You spent a lot of time on your phone, specifically through the photo album on it that was filled with pictures of you and Katsuki. It made you smile looking at all the memories. You smiled at the fact that you were blessed with him. He brings out a better you...the best you....the real you. All the times you were with him were all genuine. It was the real you. And you had finally realized that. But you couldn’t be sure.

The bad girl you was still a part of who you were for over a decade of your life. Maybe that was who you were now. And there was only one way you could find out.

—

It’s been a week and you still weren’t in school. The day ended and Bakugou still waited and waited for you. He never stopped trying to reach out to you. He never stopped because he loved you but now, he also had questions.

‘What did you mean when you said you had nobody at home to help you?’ He thought to himself. The end of the day bell rang and Bakugou, too lost in his mind, didn’t realize all the students leaving. He didn’t even realize Mr. Aizawa walking up to him.

“Bakugou..” he began.

“Tch...the hell do you want?” He said while still staring down at his desk. Aizawa stared down at the sad blonde, slightly in shocked. He had never seen his loud, angry, prideful student this way.

“How’s L/N doing?” He asked.

“Like I would know. She hasn’t spoken to me in days.” Bakugou easily confessed. He honestly didn’t care how he looked. He’s been bottling up everything and needed to talk to someone. He was a little glad it was just his teacher and not one of his peers who he thought would just tease him for the weakness he was displaying.

“Well try to keep an eye on her.” he said and Bakugou looked up at him in confusion. “L/N may put up a tough front, but she’s human. She can only take so much before she explodes like a volcano. Knowing her, it can go 2 ways. She either breaks down in tears and gets everything off her chest or most likely, she’ll follow her rebellious behavior and utterly screw up. Who knows what trouble she could get herself into.”

Bakugou’s eyes shot open at the thought of you committing such terrible things. Aizawa walked back to his yellow sleeping bag once he realized Bakugou got the message.

“However, I will say this,” he said and got into his bag. “She’s very lucky to have you as her light in the dark. Make sure you continue to be her light until she’s completely away from the shadows.”

Bakugou nodded his head in silence as he stood up and went home. Tomorrow, he was going to get to the bottom of this. He won’t let his little volcano blow.

—

The blonde had gotten ready and planned to head over to your house to talk to you. Not try to. He will speak to you and he will help you. As he walked into the gates of UA he was shocked to see a pretty face waiting for him at the entrance.

“Hey Suki!” You said with a smile as you walked to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Y/N...” Bakugou gasped out quietly. Once he felt your embrace around his neck he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and melted into the scent of you. He held you so close you were kind of losing oxygen.

“Umm..Suki. Can’t breath!” You said jokingly. Bakugou was quick to let go but still keep a loose hold on you.

“Sorry! Sorry- I just- I-“

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m glad you missed me,” you said with a wink and Bakugou smiled. He truly did miss you. “But right now, we should get to class.”

Bakugou was shocked you were choosing to go to class but he nodded with a soft smile and followed your lead nonetheless. You walked into the classroom and took your seat after making eye contact with Aizawa. When you were seated, Aizawa looked at Bakugou and gave a signal of an explosion with his hands and mouth. Bakugou got the idea.

At any time, this might be the buildup to Y/N’s explosion.

Bakugou took his seat and was quick to talk to you. “Baby? You’re not gonna....burst or something right? Everything is fine? Yeah?”

“Uhh, kinda? I mean, I’m pretty secure. I just wanna find myself after all the years of being so lost. .....I’m sure that soon I’ll get those answers.” You calmly said.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou said. He knew it. You were gonna explode. And he also realized he needed answers too. What the hell was going on with you and why didn’t he know?

“Don’t worry love!” You cheerfully said as Aizawa began class. Time went by and class continued. Bakugou was constantly looking your way to check for any signs of agitation. Suddenly, the fire alarm rang and students jumped at the loud sound. Some began walking out as Bakugou sighed in relief.

“Oh thank god! You exploded,” he sighed with his head back and hand on his chest.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“You. You exploded. This is you getting all the frustrations off your chest,” he stood up and addressed everyone. “It’s fine idiots. This is just Y/N being a little delinquent,”

“Your blood pumping?” You calmly asked.

“Yup,” Bakugou said with a satisfied smile.

“Good, I didn’t do it,” you calmly said to Bakugou but he continued.

“Yes you did! Im assuming she started a fire but it’s fine. S’not a villain or something so don’t sweat it.” He said aloud. “Go ahead and get out of here Morons, I’ll make sure she’s in check.”

“I-...I didn’t do it,” you still calmly said but this time to reassure the class as Bakugou grabbed your wrist.

“Yes you did, and it’s fine! Because this is how you get all the bad out so now you can’t do anymore bad for 3,000 years.” He said happily but you still looked at him with a bored stare when out of nowhere, the alarm stopped and Principle Nezu came onto the loud speaker.

“Sorry students. False alarm. No need to worry, please proceed with your studies.” The students sighed in relief and Bakugou’s smile dropped as he finally realized this wasn’t you going boom.

“You didn’t do this? You aren’t a volcano?” He asked.

“No explody,” you said in a sing-song voice as you shook your head.

“You need a nap?” He asked. Maybe instead of exploding, you could just sleep off the issues.

“Wide awakey,” you replied.

“..You’re gonna burst and destroy the whole village, aren’t ya?” He sadly and metaphorically asked. You nodded your head as you replied.

“......And the neighboring towns.”

Bakugou just groaned and dropped your wrist as he sat back down with an annoyed face. You giggled as you took your seat too.

—

The bell that signaled the end of the day rang and you were quick on your feet as you skidded to Bakugou and pecked his cheek. He looked up at you with a soft smile, poked his lips out a little, and pointed at his lips for an actual kiss (which you gladly gave.)

“What’s the rush dumbass?” He asked.

“I’ve got somewhere to be. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine!” You reassured him.

“..Alright I guess? You still coming over later for dinner with the old hags or...?”

“I’ll be there Suki!” You said and his nerves settled a bit. He kissed you on your cheek and nodded before he allowed you to leave the room and head off to wherever. As he watched you go, he couldn’t stop the uncomfortable stress he felt in his chest.

—

A few hours had passed since Bakugou’s last seen you. After school he went straight to the gym before dinner. While working out, his mind couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to. What was so important that it had you rushing around like that?

While Katsuki sat at the gym questioning your whereabouts, you were walking to the park with a book bag. You walked into the closed park. It was beautiful. The calming winds, the soft grass, the shining moon, and the beautiful gardens that held happy statues. Too bad you were here to find out who you were.

You placed the bag down on a bench and pulled out your tools. A brick, a hammer, spray cans, and matches. You looked at the instruments you brought and sighed at your actions. Were you really going to demolish a beautiful place just to discover yourself? Was this bad girl image really worth it? You hesitated before you went in to pick up the hammer but before you could, a familiar voice spoke up.

“Well look what we have here. Miss Y/N L/N, the rebel herself.” You turned around to see a few old friends. Haruki Gen, the professional gambler and money hussler and Izumi Tobio, the ruthless fighter. These two were your old friends. People you used to get into a whole lotta trouble with. You three were a delinquent trio that were all about no rules and no restraints. You completely forgot this was the usual hang where you three would just relax after a hard day of mean pranks, harmless stealing, and bullying.

“Haruki. Izumi. S’been awhile,” you said with a nonchalant smile.

“Of course it has. You left us after you got with that blondie boy-wonder.” Haruki teased. You chuckled but were offended as they picked at your boyfriend.

“His name is Katsuki.” You said with your hands in your back pockets.

“Whatever,” Izumi interrupted. “It’s a little dark out here. It gets scary when it gets dark around here.”

“Oh, I appreciate the warning.” You softly said with rudeness laced into the message.

“So where’s boy wonder?” Haruki asked.

“Katsuki.”

“Boy wonder. We see you got a brick and hammer here. Boy wonder isn’t gonna stop you?”

“Once again, Katsuki.” You warned.

“Yeah yeah. You gonna tell us what you’re doing here with those things. Whatcha’ gonna do? Build a house?” She teased.

“She’s Y/N L/N. She’s gonna burn the place down,” Izumi said as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Nah,” Haruki Said. “She’s changed. She’s gone soft. Just like boy wonder.”

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to start calling him Katsuki.” You warned.

“You’re soft like Katsuki. Better?” Izumi said softly into the side of your face.

“I’m not soft.” You said but Izumi disagreed.

“Yeaaahhhh you are. You’ve gone soft. But that’s okay. ‘Cuz we can fix that. And you know how we fix things? With a hammer.” She said and looked to Haruki. You both watched as Haruki went to pick up the hammer you brought and walk back to her spot next to you. “We could do a loootttt of damage with this equipment. Is that what you came here for? To see what you’re still capable of?”

“....Yeah....yeah I came to see what I’m still capable of.” You replied with a quiet but dark voice.

“Really?” Izumi said. “Because I’d love to have you back here doing damage with us.”

“Mhm!” Haruki agreed. “Now...watch and remember that this is what we do with a hammer.” She said before she bashed the head clean off the neck of a statue that oddly resembled your own boyfriend. You slightly flinched at the sound and sight of destruction while Izumi walked to Haruki.

“Okay slugger, let’s give someone else a chance,” she said and took the hammer from Haruki before placing it in your hands. “Show us what you got....softie.”

You took the hammer and once again hesitated before you raised the tool in the air to smash the statue. You freezed midway before you could finish the job. The statue really did remind you of Katsuki and you didn’t know if you had it in you to destroy anything reminding you of him. You paused for awhile and Izumi sighed as she took the hammer out of your hand.

“You’re soft L/N. I know it. You know it.”

“You’re not one of us anymore.” Haruki said.

“Exactly. You’re too soft to be one of us.” Izumi pushed you a bit, causing you to stumble forward slightly. “You chose the wrong group of friends. Chose the wrong person to associate with....you chose him. And he made you weak. So why don’t you just admit he made you weak and go home-“

“No. Because I’m not week.” You said as you faced them.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Haruki said as she walked towards you and you to her. “Take this hammer from me and prove it. Or else I’m gonna bust up Mr. Perfect right in front of you. ‘Cuz I don’t see anyone here who can stop me.” She said as she motioned towards the statue. She went in to bash it once more and you were quick to grab her arm and snatch the hammer out of her hand.

“Yeah there is,” you said and walked to the bench and picked up the hard piece of rock. “‘Cuz I’ve got the brick, and I’ve got the hammer.”

The two girls smirked at you and Izumi spoke up once more. “Good for you L/N. You know what you’re gonna do with those?”

You sighed through your nose before taking your arm and wrapping it around Izumi very casually, but brought her below your level and whispered in her ear but remained loud enough for Haruki to hear. “I know exactly what I’m gonna do with those.....I know exactly who I am.”

You pushed Izumi off of you and watched her backup to Haruki. They both looked at you in shock and slight fear as you held the weapons that you were capable of harming them with. You stared them down as they watched you with caution.

—

Hinata L/N. Your mother. She returned home at a surprisingly early hour of the night after finishing her final shift. She was exhausted and completely overworked, but knowing she made some money to support her and her daughter made her smile. She was glad she got to come home and spend some time with her daughter but when she called out your name, only silence filled the air.

She walked to the kitchen but stopped in shock to find the dinner she left for you completely untouched. It remained on the island with the Saran Wrap still covering it. Worried, she went up to her daughters room only to open it and see no one. Hinata’s eyes went wide in shock. Where was her baby girl? She ran to the closet in hopes of you being there, went to the bathroom to find it empty, and even went to the backyard to no avail. The entire time she screamed your name with tears filling her eyes. In a panic, she called a close friend of hers, telling her that she was on her way for a quick visit. It may have been years since they’ve spoken, but the bond was still there and help and comfort was all she needed right now.

—

Bakugou had finished his time at the gym, took a quick shower there, and made it home. When he walked through the front door, he didn’t expect to find his worried parents consulting a sad woman.

“The hell happened?” The young blonde questioned. The adults in the room took notice of the boy as he walked into the living room and Mitsuki was the first to speak up.

“Katsuki, this is my old friend Hinata. She’s come here for help.” Mitsuki quickly explained. Usually, she’d check her son for his abrasive language but let it slide as she wanted to out her full attention of her dear friend.

“That still doesn’t explain what happened, ya old hag.” Bakugou said placing his bag down and taking a seat. He was a hero trainee and it was in him to help those in need. Granted, he was kinda peeved at not seeing his girlfriend for a few hours and helping out some random, sappy, sad stranger wasn’t really intriguing but a hero’s gotta do what a hero’s gotta do.

“My daughter, Y/N, had gone missing.” Hinata explained. She was worried, yes, but she had always allowed Y/N to wander the city so in the back of her mind she hoped her daughter was just extending the time of her little stroll or whatever she was doing.

“Y/N?” Bakugou whispered to himself.

“Katsuki, you idiot! Your girlfriend!” Mitsuki shouted at the boy. Bakugou’s eyes popped open as he stood from his seat in a rush. He felt his heart about to blow in fear of something bad happening to his Y/N.

“WHAT?! Where the hell did she go?!” Bakugou screamed in fear with a worried look. Before any adults could answer a cop walked through the open door.

“I can answer that.” Officer Haru said. The four of them all looked towards the door to see the officer at the door way. They watched as the officer faced the door and tilted his head inwards. In came another officer that dragged along Y/N. The officer kept Y/N’s arm behind her back as she stumbled forward the slightest bit.

“Baby girl, what happened?” Hinata said as she got up in concern. You remained silent as you allowed officer Haru to speak.

“I’ll tell you what happen. Musutafu code 459 and 623.” He said.

“Vandalism? And Physical Assualt?” Masaru said concerned.

“What?!” Mitsuki said in shocked.

“What?” Hinata said in follow.

“Y/N...what the hell did you do?” Bakugou said in concern as he faced you. Your boyfriend kept his worried but stern gaze on you but that was because Bakugou was shocked. He knew you would explode but committing crimes and assault? Not to mention getting arrested? That’s not what he expected at all.

“You...” you began as you slanted your sight to your Pomeranian of a boyfriend. “You did this to me! Lock me up and put me in jail for the rest of my life and don’t allow visitors or else he’ll show up and bring me my stupid homework!” You said as you walked towards him but the officer held his hand out infront of you to keep you from getting any closer.

“Well first of all, I’d be helping your dumbass!” Bakugou said in reply. The officer took a look at Bakugou and spoke again.

“You’re the kid who’s head she put back on,” Haru said as he pointed towards Katsuki.

“What?” The blonde boy said.

“He’s my boyfriend and he ruined me!” You said still being held back by officer Haru’s arm.

“She’s my girlfriend and I love her,” Bakugou said with a stern voice and his hands in his pockets as he glared you down. “Look, Y/N. Just tell me what you did.”

“She assaulted two teenage girls and did a number on a public park. My park. I watch that park every day and it has never met harm not once until she came along.

“I’m sorry...” you softly said. A quick silence filled the room before Haru spoke once more.

“You all care about this girl?”

“We do.” Mitsuki said with 100% sureness.

“Then let’s all take a field trip down to my park so I can show you all just what she did. Let’s go.” Haru said and guided everyone out the door. Katsuki tried to grab your arm to get an explanation on his own but you shook your head, took his hand, and guided him as well.

After a short walk, you all made it to the park. All of you had walked through the gates to find the concrete area had been completely altered. The walls were painted in beautiful colors with inspiring murals, covering them in words of hope. Extremely precise and intricate chalk designs were covering the ground and the once broken statue had been fixed completely. You all looked around in awe. You walked towards the statues and Bakugou followed you.

“.....I had a brick in my hand.”

“Why?” Bakugou asked with a soft voice. You looked up to him with an equally soft expression as you spoke quietly.

“..because somebody went after you..I know you can defend yourself Suki but..still.”

“Who Y/N?” Mitsuki asked with worry. You took a breath before continuing as you opened up about your past a bit.

“..These two girls I used to know. These two troubled girls I used to know. I could’ve been them..I was one of them. And Suki, even today I would’ve been one of them.” You said but you made eye contact and broke into the smallest smile as you stared into his ruby eyes. “But I’m not. ‘Cuz they think a hammer and a brick makes you strong and as much as I wanted to throw a brick through a window..I knew it would’ve made me weak. I’m strong. And I know it’s because there’s something inside me that stops me from being weak and being one of them, and you are the reason why I have that something. And that something is the reason why I’ll never do any true damage.”

“Because you’re not bad, Y/N.” Bakugou said with a soft smile. You nodded your head and agreed.

“Yeah....why am I not bad?” You asked in confusion. Bakugou chuckled as he took your hands in his and placed his forehead to yours.

“Because it’s just not who you are. You may be a rebel at times, but you’re a rebel with a cause....it’s why I love you.” He softly said and you whimpered a bit at his words as he pulled you in for a tight hug and you slightly weeped into his shoulder. He kissed your temple to calm you down and you pulled your face away from him and just allowed your body to rest against his.

“What happened to the girls?” Masaru asked. You pulled away from Bakugou but allowed him to hold onto your side as you explained with a quivering voice.

“Oh, well they may or may have not insulted everyone and everything I love, so I may or may not have used my hero training against them until they learned their lesson.....especially since they were the ones who destroyed the statue.” You explained and they all just chuckled at your explanation.

“Yeah....they ran away so fast,” you chuckled out softly.

A comfortable silence came around until officer Haru spoke again. “My park. I watch this park everyday.”

You pulled away from Bakugou and stepped to the officer. “...I’m sorry..” you quietly said as you placed your wrists together, expecting the old officer to cuff you. Instead he stared at your wrists before softly grabbing them with his hands and just holding them.

“..You know I’m not gonna give up on that Izumi and Haruki. But I don’t want you to be anything like them.” Old officer Haru said with a comforting voice.

“Heh...I can’t....Katsuki won’t let me.” And the group all chuckled and laughed at that. Haru let go of your hands as he spoke again.

“Musutafu code 459 and 623. Vandalism. Physical Assualt. I’m gonna write this report down. And I’m gonna put it into a file. And then I’m gonna “misplace” that file. And if I never hear from you two hoodlums again, then that file remains misplaced.” He said, admitting to letting you off the hook. You sighed a little as Katsuki walked up to the two of you and softly spoke to you.

“....Ima hoodlum.” He said. Oh, the comedic relief this boy is bringing. You looked at him but went back to the officer as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why’re you letting me off the hook?” You asked but officer Haru just looked around at his newly renovated park.

“My park....I look at this park everyday....I have hope for this park too.” You smiled at him before he nodded with his cap and walked away from you all. The adults all looked at the two teens and saw Katsuki nod his head as he held you. They decided to give the two of you some space and head back to the house while you and Katsuki took a seat on the bench. You sat next to each other in a warm silence as Katsuki kept an arm around your waist and held you tight.

“...You still owe me an explanation Y/N.” He said and you nodded as you looked to him. He was right. You not only owed him an explanation but he deserved one too. And so you told him everything. All the lies, how your father left early on, how it was just you and your mother who struggled to keep the lights on. You told him you lied to him to prevent him from worrying, claiming that the troubled life was everything you knew and you thought you would be able to survive without his help. When he asked how his mother knew yours but didn’t know that you were the daughter of her dear friend, you told him how she did know but you begged her to not tell Katsuki. You told Mitsuki you would tell Katsuki eventually but eventually never came until now. Katsuki, being the great boyfriend that he is, listened to everything. He didn’t judge you for anything. Was he a little mad at the lies? Yes, but he understood. And he still loved you nonetheless.

Eventually, it became so late that the sun began to rise over the park and you were all cuddled up into Katsuki’s side with your knees pressed up against your chest. He rested his head on yours as you rested your own on his shoulder. You both just reveled in the intimate moment and savored every second.

“Hey princess?”

“Yeah Suki?” Bakugou looked towards the statue and smiled before speaking.

“Thanks for putting my head back on.”

You looked at him, pecked his cheek, and snuggled in closer.

“Yeah.....same to you.”

A/N: Hey Cubs! I know this wasn’t really a Bakugou x Reader kinda thing but I like the story line of it and I wrote it so HAH! Truthfully though, I hoped you all enjoyed it. Stay tuned. Oh! And part 9 of “Oh, The Lies You Tell” will be out shortly! See you soon Cubs!

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anaiswriterr · 3 years

Text

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter four: gifted dagger -

•

You clutch hard onto an old bladed dagger, it digs into your palm and slices a long line against the soft skin. Droplets of blood pools onto the gravel below you, heaving you throw the weapon into a tree bark. You groan out in frustration when it doesn't latch onto the wood, "I can't do this!"

"Don't say that, it's your first day. Try again," Kirishima urges, bending down to grab the dagger off the ground, handing it back to you placing the blade down into your palm; you seethe in pain. Swallowing down the yelp that threatened to escape passed your lips, Kirishima notices your stained palms before snatching the dagger back from your grasp.

"We'll pick this back up later, don't want you getting an infection."

Perhaps he was right, the blade was only slightly rusted - it's been over an hour with the blade constantly digging into your skin; if you didn't cover it up soon then an infection was possible. You shrug, "An infection compared to getting eaten by a bear, or an ogre is nothing in my eyes; so don't worry about me. We can continue," You reach out to grab the dagger out from his hands, but he hides the blade into his holster. Nodding his head side to side, "No can do, my job is to make sure you are safe 24/7 and if that means making you go to the infirmary then so be it."

You arch a brow wiping away the sweat beads off your forehead from the hot dewy morning, "Is that a request?"

"Your Highness, will all due respect, it's an order."

"Fine, but I quite frankly would like to survive so if we could continue this on later-"

"Of course," he smiles, "Now, go fix your hand. I was told Bakugou would like to speak to you-"

"That will not be necessary since I will not be speaking to him." You pour a cup of water over your palm, attempting to clean off the dirt. After yesterday's events you have vowed to not utter a single word to him, he's clearly a hard head who never had anyone stand up to him. As his "wife" what better then to punish his actions then using the silent treatment towards the temperamental brat. Kirishima scratches the back of his head sheepishly, fiddling with his weapon. "Well you know Your Highness-"

"Y/N will do just fine. Please no formalities between us two."

"Right. Um well, you know. Bakugou is a hard kinda guy to work with, it was hard for even I to get to be as close as I am with him. He hates silence, he might ask for it. But radio silence might not be the best answer between the two of you.. considering you two are on thin ice right now."

You arch a brow in question, wiping the sheen layer of sweat off your brow bone. "What do I do then, Kirishima. How do I win over a beast who doesn't attempt at all?"

***

To say you utterly hated Katsuki Bakugou was an understatement.

For one night he managed to put on a mask that nearly caught you in a rope of curiosity for the man - maybe he was just misunderstood. Like hell, his mother had the same fighting and burning spirit one of a dragon meanwhile his father was more calm, well rounded, wise like a dragon. So why was Bakugou the mean one of the bunch.

'You can't fix everyone, Y/N.'

Well that sentence surely did not age well, you wince as the healer places an alcohol soaked cotton ball onto your wound. Biting your lip back in pain it takes up all your strength to not pull back and away from the old man.

"I'll be right back, my Queen it seems like you may need some herbs from the garden and recently I've run out. Don't worry it'll only take me five minutes." The healer reassures you, you nod in return pressing the cotton ball into the cut, cleaning the area in the meantime.

"That's alright, take your time." You smile.

The stinging pain slowly subsided when you finally became accustomed to the clear liquid, to handle a dagger will be much harder now. You are determined to prevail, just a small bump in the road nothing quite serious. A knock on the infirmaries white door retracts you from your thoughts, eyes wondering towards the window that overviewed the garden shows it's not the healer.

"Come in."

Short blonde hair with ruby red eyes strut in, Mitsuki, your mother in law smiles down at you. "Hello dear, I heard you were in here.. I wanted to speak to you. Are you okay?"

You can feel your heart nearly drop, your mother in law was as sweet as a ripe strawberry in season but the aura she carried screamed and resembled Katsuki. You nod, greeting her with a formal cheek kiss, "Oh I'm fine just a tiny cut is all. What would be the problem?" You wave off her worry.

"Oh no dear, there is no problem. I'm glad it's just a cut, I was worried it was far worse. I just wanted to spend time with my daughter in law - I wanted you to know that though this may be a hard time, I went through this. You will be just fine. I also... heard your and Katsuki's fight last night.. I didn't mean to intrude I was just on the way to find Melody when I stumbled upon you two, how are you feeling?"

Oh dear. She knew, did anyone else know? Of course people know the two of you were practically testing who can yell the loudest - this is embarrassing. He really did manage to get a rise from you.

You stare down at your palm, this was the first time anyone here has actually asked whether or not you were fine.

"I-I'm okay, he's just hard to get to."

The bed of the infirmary dips slightly beside you as Mitsuki's takes a seat beside you, "Yes, he can be a handful most days. Katsuki doesn't exactly know how to be... nice? It's probably my fault, I was constantly pushing him as a child. You know, he turned out to be a fine warrior; a fine commander." You nod listening to his mother, "I guess the two of you are no longer on speaking terms. I get it, I moved from a neighboring kingdom to here. It was hard to get his father to open up," Mitsuki sighs.

"But the two of you fell in love."

"You are very right, but like all love. It took time."

A silence falls between the two of you, she was the only person who you could remotely relate to right about now. She was the only one who could even fathom how scared you are, you were served with a silver platter all your life nearly always spoon fed and suddenly thrown into a tribe you knew nothing about. "How did you do it?"

Mitsuki arches a brow, "What do you mean?"

"H-How do I survive in that forest? What do I have to expect even after? How did you do it?"

The former queen sighs, eyeing your injury. "Well, from my kingdom we had similar principles I already had the basic knowledge of outdoor survival. To keep it short," She grabs your free hand in comfort. "I'm sure they haven't bothered telling you the objectives, the point system.. the tribal ceremony for those who make it out of alive. You must come out with a Goblin heart, no exceptions. Afterwards believe it or not you are placed on a pedestal at midnight the day you arrive back where you must eat the entire muscle, uncooked. The blood is told it'll bring great fortune and fertility. The process.. was nevertheless grueling I felt like a caged animal with all the drums and cheering. Y/N you must not, and I repeat my not throw up during the feasting."

You nod intently, stomach curling at the thought of a eat raw heart. But tribal traditions and regulations must be met, your heart pounded. It seemed like no matter where you turned there was always a set back, a catch. You survive the forest and now you must feast in front of the entire kingdom?

"Stay high, on top of the trees are the best option. Don't make a fire at night - I know, it'll be tempting. It'll grow cold as night falls, but the most dangerous creatures come out then and are attracted to light. You'll be dead before you even know it." Mitsuki lectures with a stern gaze, tightening her grip around the palm of your uninjured hand. "Find running water, a stream, lake, river. Whatever, it's freshwater. You'll catch your fish there, berries and nuts are also located near there. If you'd like to start a fire I suggest start when the sun rises, the creatures of the forest will retreat since they are nocturnal."

You store this information into your head, such valuable keys of survival. You are determined to return breathing, to return alive.

"Goblins are tricksters - never trust a single word that utters from their mouths. It's poisonous. They are most active during the day, but during sunlight stay low and stay quiet, follow the wind and it'll guide you. That is all I can say, I wish I could say more. Personally, I attempted to change this law for years. It never seemed fair, I pray I see you again Y/N."

"Thank you. I hope to see you as well." You smile sadly at the blonde woman who carried a guilty expression, her hands finally let go of your free one. "I'm terribly sorry, Y/N. I have one last thing to gift you, It's not much. Katsuki was supposed to give it to you this morning but it appears the outskirts have called upon him once again." Mitsuki reaches out for a golden box to the left of her, the velvet embroiled box calls your attention.

"It's said to be a gift from the gods. The gods who birthed dragons, carried down by generations. All Dragon Queens have used this, a sacred weapon to help kill the beast and restore balance; Katsuki has made the executive decision that you get to receive this gift." Mitsuki's hand fiddles with the locks of the box, the top lid opens with a flick of her fingers.

A blade, shines in the light.

Cleaned and sharp, the Queen's dagger passed down from hundreds of years worth of battles.

Is gifted.. to you, by the king.

"I-I can not accept this. This gift, I do not deserve this. It's sacred-" You babble, waving your hands you gently push away the box bestowed to you between the spot that separated the both of you. Two queens of the Dragon Kingdom. "You can, and you will. I was gifted this dagger two months after both I and Masaru's wedding. Katsuki wanted you to have this sacred weapon now. He has chosen you, please take it."

You nod in response, hands trembling as you reach out for the velvet box. The handle of the dagger stings in your possession, the bleeding in your right hand has finally stopped when you hold the blade with two hands. It was much more easier to carry, sharper, and even thinner - as light as a feather, fit for a Queen, fit for battle. It was your husband who bestowed this gift to you, "When you are out there, Y/N. Remember.. to fight like a dragon."

"And how must I manage to fight like a dragon? I don't even know how to throw a dagger properly - at a still object, may I add." You show her the deep cut in need of stiches on your palm, "Dragons, my dear, always find a way to win."

***

Your palm is tightly wrapped with herbs to protect the freshly new stitches, meeting Kirishima in the backwoods where training took place. You managed to learn how to build a fire, a makeshift knife if your original weapon were to ever be kicked away from you, how to catch a fish and how to determine which berries were poisonous and which were safe for consumption.

You wince at the feeling of sharp branches scratching against your bare legs, dressed with royal training gear you wondered if you could actually make it to the finish line. You take a bite of a berry, it's tart yet semi sweet flavor cleans your palette of fish. Kirishima watches from the side with a satisfied grin, nightfall was quickly approaching and since this morning you have requested no sort of rest. You drink away at your makeshift cup, the leaf holding only a handful of water you eagerly drink away at.

Kirishima looks up to the darkening sky, hews of purples, pinks, and blues paint the sky as stars begin to appear.

"I should probably get you back to the Palace," He says wiping his hand away from dirt he collected off the tree bark he leaned against - watching your crouched and exhausted figure warm your hands over the mini fire you created. You look up, "I suppose you're right," You reach over to the stream beside you cupping a handful of water and watering down the fire, stomping it out with wet breaches and leaves. Patting it into the ground to stop the embers from continuing to burn.

Kirishima fiddles with his swords and daggers, "You did great today, Y/N." He praises you, proud of how far you've come in just a day. It took him hours to catch a fish when he was just a child, when his parents were alive. You thank him, moving beside him as the two of you walk down the backwoods trail. Only sharing small talk and friendly conversation.

You hum at the story he told of both him and Bakugou, "Well.. how exactly did the two of you meet. You two seem so close to one another, not to mention.. Kirishima you're very loyal to him - his family. What's your story?" There's a visible hitch in his breath, his shoulders tense up as he stumbles upon his words. "I-I'm so sorry! If you don't want to talk-

Kirishima chuckles waving off your worries, "No, nobody has ever asked me. We were just.. brothers. I met him in the mountains, I was just eight years old and back then Dragon hunting use to be a huge problem. Hunters, Poachers - they would all terrorize Dragons who lived peacefully with no mercy murder entire hoards. My parents.. were hunted and killed along with the entire clan and neighboring tribes. I was running, miles away from my home for days. Crying, hungry, thirsty, I was to afraid to fly because they would see me."

You listen intently, nodding along to his words, saddened by his past. Feeling guilty for even asking, he continues.

"Bakugou, can be mean, a brute, barbaric, and even sometimes cruel. But I promise you he has a good heart; so easily he could've turned his back away from me in the mountains. Let the Goblins and Wolves feast on me, instead he took me in. Into the Royal campgrounds, his parents welcomed me in. Cleaned my wounds, gave me a hot meal, warm milk to combat the winter, fresh pair of boots and clothes, even a warm bed to sleep in. Bakugou didn't talk, didn't even introduce himself to me after a few days. However if he didn't take me in then I would've died alone in the cold. And for that I am loyal to them, hell he even let me hold onto his toy for a while." He chuckles.

A silence grows between the both of you, with only snapping branches beneath your boots. Its crunches sooths the silence until he spoke once more.

"I hope you know you're going to be okay, Y/N. I believe in you, and in three days time when you have to walk into that forest; I am convinced I will see you also walk out.

"Thank you Kirishima, I-I'm sorry for what happened to your family."

The redhead waves you off once more smiling to you as the castle gates approach, "It's okay, things happen for a reason. Now go clean up, Melody should have your bath ready. Sleep tight your Highness." He bows gesturing for you enter passed the gates. You press a small kiss to his cheek watching a dark red blush spread throughout his face, "Goodnight Kirishima."

Walking passed him and into the handmaidens arms, Kirishima watches you. A hand pressed hard onto his sizzling red hot cheek that burned out against his palm, smiling sheepishly, gushing over the lingering feeling of ghost lips that once pressed against his cheek. Turning away with his back foot, he hears two pairs of heavy boots stomping against the ground, royal guards heave - catching their breathes.

"What's wrong- where Bakugou?" Kirishima quickly asks eyeing the guards who ran all the way here from the stables in search for him. "Sir Kirishima, King Bakugou has requested your immediate arrival at the outskirts-"

"It's the eggs, sir!" The other interrupts, "The Dragon eggs, the four Gardina left behind."

***

"What's the problem? What happened with the eggs, I thought they were fine."

"Since Gardina's sudden death the eggs need warmth, there's talk from other kingdoms across the seas even, that people are thinking about stealing them, selling them for one million gems on the magical black market." Bakugou grimaces, his arms crossed over his chest. "It seems that we should pay a visit, remind them who we are."

Kirishima nods his head, moving along with his friend passed the campfire where soldiers sat. "What can I do to help?"

Bakugou moves the curtains of his tent, "After you train Y/N, the same day as the games I need you to take the eggs and hide them away as far as possible, I don't care where just away from here. Hide them with the others in the mountains if you'd like - we can not afford them to go missing. Far too dangerous for anyone else." The blond commands, tiredness seeps through his voice as he rubs his eyes to combat the sleep he's been in desperate need for. "I'll give you the green light when to bring them back, I won't return to the Kingdom until the day of the games. Did my mother give Y/N the Royal Dagger?"

Nodding to himself Kirishima smiles, "Yes, she was given it this morning just before noon."

"How did she do?" Katsuki rubs the back of his neck, "Rocky as first, but the girl picks up fast. Will you be here to send her off?" Kirishima tilts his head crossing his arms, "I don't know if she wants me there."

"If you care about her coming back alive, you'll be there." ***

- 3 days later -

The carriage ride is slow, dangerously slow as you remember the long tight hug Melody gave you before your leave at the sunset, Former Queen Mitsuki sits in front of you, her hand clutches onto yours in comfort as you shake in fear in your seat. Kirishima is waiting outside the enchanted forest where it was the most safest - a crowd has formed of simple tribe and clan members outside their homes as they attempt to try and get a glimpse of you; their Queen.

You have yet to meet them, only knowing the castle walls and the workers who served.

You can feel your dagger inside it's brown leather hostler dig into your thigh; but it's fine. It's the only thing keeping you distracted from your pounding heart beat against your chest and the clamminess of your palms. The stitch's finally healed by a magic teller.

You don't even notice the purple hews of the setting sun turning pitch black with only the moon and stars to prove it's light on the passage way; you breath deeply through your nose. Watching how you approached the enchanted forest quicker then you anticipated. Queen Mitsuki and King Masaru insisted you sleep, but you respectfully declined. How were you supposed to sleep when you were being forced into the most dangerous forest known to mankind. They could've just simply pushed you into a hungry Dragon's nest.

The carriage stops and the horses neigh signaling your arrival, a part of you wishes your mother had declined the offer of King Bakugou it would've been nice if he were to even apologize. But since you do not live in a fantasy world, you are reminded this is real life. And you are most certain no prince dressed in armor will come to your rescue and insists he runs off with you. You're stuck here.

You look back nervously at the former king and queen who both bite back their bottom lips, "I will see you in three days time. We both will."

The door to your side of the carriage is thrown open by Kirishima who holds his hand out to grip yours, "M'lady."

Hesitantly you let go of Mitsuki's hand, bidding the two goodbye and latch onto Kirishima's calloused rough ones. Your boots settle into the ground when you let go of his hand, eyes catching a pair of vermillion orbs, ones you haven't seen in three days. His necklaces of teeth he's collected over the years frightens you, will you have a necklace like that one day? "Are you ready, my Queen."

His eyes.

They say nothing at all, just a simple red gleam. He watches you approach the entrance of what seemingly looked like a one way ticket to death, is he going to say anything all? Probably not.

His malicious words still ring clear in your mind, "You wont be a Queen if you're dead."

Death is something you refuse to meet, at least not yet. You turn to face him, he has no emotion and the tears that threaten to spill are wiped away by your wrist. The only people here to witness the games are him, Kirishima, a few men from the counsels parliament, royal soldiers (who you suppose are only here to protect the king and stop you if you decide to run) and both Bakugou's parents who insisted on staying in the carriage. Bakugou's quiet glare is something most would be terrified of, but you refuse to be belittled and underestimated.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Kirishima ask, your eyes detach from the blonds. Nodding you wipe your clammy hand against the leather hunting skirt you were dressed in. "I'm fine, I'm ready."

You're scared. That's an understatement, "Time starts as soon as you enter, retrieve the Goblin heart and come back here the third day at sunset. If you are not here by then we will assume you have died." A counsel man announces, you hold back the urge to flip him off - he didn't know you. Nor did you know him, to throw your life away as if it were never meaningful to another was plain cruel but there was a thing you refused to do.

Give up.

"I'll see you later Y/N."

'I will not die'

You set out into the forest, without looking back, with the feeling of two vermillion eyes staring into your back.

TAGLIST: @loxbbg @urmomsshousee @samkysnks @mikithekiki @aegeanblues @mykuronekome @lowkey-a-faerie-in-disguise @orange-aesthetic-yay @katsukibabe @vvanills @katiekat300 @utterlyconfused-tm @learningasigo @bigkoalafications @bnhaficswriter @tspice283 @simpforeveryone @crackhead1-800 @poetryandhoetry01 @bakasbitch18 @riceballsandanime @franko-pop @lostmarimoismyhubby @junniev8 @thirsthourdemon @cowward @the2ndl @reaperintheroses @bakugousmrs @maemi324 @beautifulparisiangirl @commandertorinshepard @bnhafan101 @meliapis @thecaoswitch @liviwivi1 @hikaru-mikazuki @angie-1306 @theinfamoushotdog @minibobabottle @honeylemondragonemperor @iloveitblackbnha @yokesmam @annepamgkrth @the2ndl @sugarandsoft

AUTHORS NOTE: Personally one of the worst fucking chapters I’ve produced, anyways yooo Bakugou kinda feels guilty Y/N is going through this but you know this is going to be a strength building exercise for her. The ceremony after is based off of GOT so iykyk. Anyways my eye has been shut for like three days it just keeps watering and so irritating to write with. Okay I’m done ranting, I hope you liked it.

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 15: Wings

Harry was not a big fan of parties.

In fact, Harry downright hated parties because he hated all of the unwanted attention. Fortunately, this masquerade gala allowed him to remain anonymous.

After all, who would expect Harry Potter to arrive in a pirate costume with skintight breeches, a billowy white shirt that exposed his chest (and the fake anchor tattoo), and thigh high boots? The black mask that covered much of his face and the pirate hat with a huge, gaudy feather helped, too.

He'd happily avoided anyone and everyone on his way to the snack table and had just stuffed a tiny, flaky, savory pastry in his mouth when he looked up to the top of the staircase that led into the room and promptly choked. There, standing at the top and looking down at all of them, was a literal angel.

The man had gorgeous white and gold wings magically attached to his back, Harry's fingers twitched as though reaching for the soft feathers as they fluttered in the breeze drifting through the open door behind him. Gold sandals graced his feet, and golden straps wrapped up his legs, stopping mid thigh. Silky white fabric was artfully draped around his hips, protecting his modesty, but only just. He wore a golden corset with a delicate structure that emphasized the narrowness of his waist and the broadness of his bare shoulders. Gold was dusted lightly across his skin, making him shine even more radiantly. His mask was also gold, hiding everything but his sharp chin, strong jawline, and his lovely lips. To finish everything off, a golden laurel wreath graced his pink hair.

He was gorgeous, ethereal. And Harry's gut told him that he had to meet him. His gut was hardly ever wrong.

(Read more below the cut)

Without stopping to think, Harry set off toward the other man, but was beat to him by a man dressed in a muggle constable uniform. As Harry approached, he heard the constable berating the angel and he felt his metaphorical hackles rise.

"Oy!" he said as the constable shoved the man's shoulder. "Back off. What's the matter with you?"

The constable spluttered at him and placed his hands on his hips in indignation. "Well I don't think a costume like that is appropriate."

And suddenly, Harry recognized that voice, recognized posture and his puffed out chest. "Well, first, Auror Hibbards," he said, "It's not your place to enforce a dress code. And second, I don't think the business you conduct with your secretary after hours is appropriate but no one's confronted you or your wife about that. Perhaps you'd like me to go and have a conversation with her about what I find inappropriate?"

He followed the other man's panicked gaze across the room to two women who were standing together talking, and tried to remember what Laura Hibbards had looked like when he'd met her a few years ago.

"She's the one in the striking medi-nurse costume isn't she?" he asked. "Laura, right?"

Hibbards took a step back and his arms fell to his sides, "Who are you?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied. "You mind your business and I'll mind mine."

Without another word Hibbards turned and fled across the room.

He turned to look at the angel standing next to him, "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," the man replied, voice warm and a smile tugging at his lips. "I daresay you arrived in the wrong costume."

Harry looked down at his pirate apparel. "Sorry?" he asked, looking up at him.

"I think you ought to have come as a knight dressed in shining armor," he teased.

"Hardly," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

The other man's eyes traveled up and down Harry's body, "So, let me guess, you're an auror? I would say that maybe you just work in the auror department but it was clever of you to get him to look at his wife so you could deduce who she was."

"Clever, hmm?" Harry teased. "I wouldn't go that far, but you're not entirely wrong. I've recently left the Ministry and I was an auror."

"What made you leave?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Harry lifted one shoulder, "I got fed up with the bullshit and the hypocrisy; I felt like I was slowly becoming someone I didn't want to be, so I left."

"And what do you do now?"

He laughed, "Do you want the truth?'

"Always."

"I work part time at a muggle coffee shop," he replied.

"Ah, so you're independently wealthy then."

Harry shook his head, "And you said I'm the clever one. What do you do?"

"I'm a solicitor," he replied.

He laughed, "So you really didn't need my help dealing with Hibbards then. I'm sure you could have talked circles around him."

"No, I probably didn't," he conceded. "But it was nice, just the same. A man who spends all of his time fighting on behalf of others appreciates someone fighting on his behalf every so often."

Harry smiled, "Are you here with anyone?" he asked, "Or can I get you a drink?"

"A drink would be great," the angel replied.

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

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a night as much as he had this one. His angel was quick-witted with a dry sense of humor, he was smart and sexy, and Harry genuinely enjoyed his company. They'd danced, and talked, and enjoyed the food and drinks available; and Harry found himself wishing that the night would never end.

When the clock stuck eleven, surprising both of them, they looked around to see that many people had already left. "Salazar, is that the time?"

Harry nodded, "Seems to be."

"I've an early morning tomorrow," the angel told him, "As much as I've enjoyed this, I should probably be on my way."

"Can I see you again?" Harry blurted.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," the other man replied slowly. "This was meant to be a bit like Cinderella at the ball for me."

"Are you going to leave me your sandal, then? Expect me to come and find you?" Harry teased, really hoping that the other man would give in or at least give him something to go on. He was good a puzzles, good at pulling at loose ends until he'd unraveled the mystery.

"No, no, nothing like that," he said quickly. "I just wanted one night where I didn't have to be me. One night that I didn't have to walk around with my face and all of the baggage that goes along with it. This was never meant to be more than that."

"I hear you," Harry said, emphatically, "I really do. I find it difficult," he confessed, "connecting with people. People can't seem to see past their preconceived notions of who I am, but you..." Harry trailed off and shrugged helplessly, "it was easy. To be with you, to talk to you. I'd really like to get to know you better."

The angel rubbed the back of his neck, "I would like that, too," the other man replied softly. "Truly. But once you know who I am, you're going to change your mind."

"But isn't it worth to find out?" he asked, pleaded. "Even if you're right and I never want to see you again, that's the outcome you've assigned without even knowing."

"Maybe I'd prefer for you to remember this night fondly," the other man suggested.

"Maybe I'd prefer to have many more fond memories with you," Harry countered.

"You were a Griffyndor weren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Harry replied with a grin. Then he grew serious, "Look, if you enjoyed tonight even half as much as I did, please just give it a chance. You might take one look at me and think this was a mistake, but at least we'll know and we won't have to spend the rest of our lives wondering what could have been."

The angel blew out a breath and Harry fought the nerves that had risen up in his chest. "Fine," he conceded, "but don't say that I didn't try to warn you."

"Okay," Harry said, giving him a big smile.

"Before we do this," he said, "I want you to know that I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you for everything."

"Stop sounding like you're saying goodbye!" Harry protested.

The angel gave him a sad little smile, "Ready, then?"

"On the count of three?" Harry asked. When he received a nod in return, he reached up and said, "One, two, three," as he pulled of his mask.

A slap to the face would have been less of a surprise than the person he saw standing before him.

"Potter?"

"Malfoy?" he splutted. "What? How?"

"This explains so much, actually," Malfoy said, his mouth twisting in a displeased little grimace. "You got to come sailing in like the hero you are to rescue a damsel in distress-"

"That's not fair," Harry replied, still reeling. "I didn't even know it was you."

"No," Malfoy agreed. "It certainly would have changed your reaction if you had." He shook his head, "Well, this has been fun. I do so love being proven right."

"It's still better to know that this was not worth losing sleep over, don't you think?" Harry replied.

"Right," Malfoy clipped. "I'm off. The pirate costume seems a bit like false advertising, by the way," he said as he started to walk away without a backward glance.

"What?" Harry asked incredulously, "And the angel costume wasn't false advertising?"

"It's a Victoria's Secret Costume, Potter. Honestly."

Before Harry could make sense of that statement, Malfoy was up the stairs and out of the door, leaving Harry staring after him with a mixture of irritation, and confusion, and oddly a bit of attraction.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" a voice called from beside him, "How lovely to see you!"

Harry turned to see Laura Hibbards standing next to him. "Your husband is cheating on you," Harry informed her.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her right hand fluttering up to cover her heart.

"With his secretary. I should have said something a long time ago, I'm sorry," he added, because he was. No one deserved to be cheated on.

Then he walked away, leaving her floundering, and headed out the same door Malfoy had moments before.

When he got outside he looked around, hoping to see wings or a flash of pink hair, but the road was empty. Was he really lonely and desperate enough that he was thinking that he and Malfoy might be a good fit?

Harry gave it up, he didn't even know what he would have said if he had seen him. It wasn't worth losing sleep over, he reminded himself before appartating home.

Whiskers was waiting for him when he arrived and he scooped her up and nuzzled his nose into her fluffy white fur. "You love me, don't you?" he asked her. Her sweet, little meow confirmed it and he kissed her head before going in to get ready for bed. It wasn't worth losing sleep over he reminded himself again.

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

Harry had, in fact, lost quite a bit of sleep. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, grumbling to himself, and hating himself every time his mind replayed a part of the evening and butterflies took flight in his stomach.

By the time the sun was illuminating the sky, turning it bright pinks and reds, Harry only knew one thing: he couldn't get Malfoy out of his head.

He got out of bed and he started to do some digging on the other man. It took half the morning but he discovered Malfoy had made a bit of a name for himself. He worked for a wizarding law firm and he'd made a habit of only taking clients who were desperately in need of help that they couldn't afford. Harry had a hard time learning anything else about his personal life, it seemed like he didn't really have one, but it didn't take long for him to find an address.

From there, the planning was a bit shoddy. Harry hadn't ever really been good at making plans and sticking to them so he just showed up outside of Draco's office at 5:00pm and waited.

And waited.

And then he waited some more. He waited until 6:30, wondering if he'd missed the other man somehow and as he was about to leave and return tomorrow, the door opened and out stepped Malfoy. His hair was blonde and he was wearing a well-tailored suit but he looked just as breathtaking as he had the night before.

He froze when he caught sight of Harry, looking stricken for just a moment before smoothing his features. "What are you doing here?"

Harry opened his mouth, "I'm sorry." They weren't quite the words he was meaning to say but it was too late to take them back now.

"Whatever for?"

"I had a brilliant time with you last night," Harry said.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Right up until you realized it was me."

"That's what I'm sorry for," Harry said. "Malfoy," he started, then he changed tracks, "Draco, you made me feel like I was just a person. Just a guy flirting with another person, enjoying life, free of all expectations."

"Yes, we established that last night," he replied as he stepped down the stairs and stood on the pavement in front of Harry. "That was the point of the masks and the costumes."

"Right, but I don't think it was just the masks and costumes. The person I was last night," he licked his lower lip but forced himself to continue, "That's who I really am. Without the weight of being Harry Potter. And I would be willing to bet my vault at Gringotts that the person you were last night is who you really are without the weight of being Draco Malfoy."

"Can you afford to bet your vault at Gringotts?" he asked. "Aren't you a barista? What if you're wrong?"

"Shut up," Harry said, "I'm trying to say something profound here."

"Apologies," Malfoy said, taking one step closer to him as his mouth tilted up at the corner.

"When who we both really are seems to be so compatible, doesn't it seem silly to throw that away on a childhood rivalry?"

"What exactly are you proposing?"

Harry took a breath, "Dinner? Or coffee if dinner is too much. I'd like the chance to get to know you better."

"You would?" Draco asked softly, looking open and vulnerable, and Harry's heart expanded in his chest until he couldn't breathe properly.

"I really would," he said, reaching out to take Draco's hand.

"Alright. Dinner," he agreed. "But don't blame me if this doesn't work out."

Harry grinned at him, "Feel free to blame me when it does."

Day 14: Louder, So Everyone Can Hear | Day 16: Tulips

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #oof this one ran away from me #sorry it's long #I hope you still enjoy it #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #day 15: Wings #costumes #fun

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softluci · 3 years

Text

aggressive affection (round two!)

[ part two of this, with the now dateables. guess which one(s) i have a crush on—i am actually so embarrassed because i'm getting shy trying to write this, but it's a must that i put this into the universe. if you want to read this first, rather than the one with the brothers, here is the preface: ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,” “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

dia

you—why did you—look.

dia is a very nice, social guy; very smiley, you guys get along great, that's great!

he is still very much a demon (the prince of them, in fact) and very much not one of your friends from the human world, no matter how much he wants you to treat him as such.

you should've known better.

he'd invited you to the castle for tea and a nice chat—a regular occurrence between the two of you so that he could see how you were doing, how the program was going, talk about lucifer, play catch up; nothing out of the ordinary.

he complimented you on your performance thus far, telling you about how well you've done—which was just standard kindness—so would you like to explain to the class why your immediate response was, “so kiss me then,” ?

he was totally fine with it, but he was also very confused, so it was only fair that he pulled you into his lap to get a better understanding of what you meant. if you do the math, it adds up, i swear.

luckily, you don’t even have to explain yourself with this one because it seems like he already knows. this is good because, given his proximity to you at that moment, you wouldn’t have done a good job explaining yourself anyway.

“is this how you talk to your human friends?”

it was a simple question, with a simple answer, it’s just that you were nose-to-nose, and his eyes were hooded all of a sudden and his hand was cupping the side of your face so, naturally, you had some difficulty forming words—fortunately, you managed to nod instead of embarrassing yourself by trying to talk.

“and do they ever do what you ask?”

again, it would’ve been foolish of you to try and speak, so you just shook your head. you were doing a surprisingly nice job of maintaining your dignity, well done! this is nice compensation for the fact that you seemed to forget you were dealing with the demon of demons, but he was kind enough to remind you—

“well, i’m not one of them, so i’ll do as you say. you don’t mind, right?”

do you have a saving grace with this man? meh. he doesn’t want to do anything in front of the others, but he can literally go somewhere private with you under the guise of wanting to talk. it’s not like anyone is gonna tell him he can’t.

barbatos

you don’t make any sense. you watched black butler know that he’s the scariest person in the devildom, why did you think you could do this? he might be a menace not too far underneath that professional exterior, but that doesn’t mean you have to fuck around and find out. or maybe that’s exactly what that means.

all he did was bring you tea. he saw you sitting in the castle’s library doing schoolwork—dia offered to let you study there to enjoy some quiet that you wouldn’t have gotten at the house, and because you aren’t one to forgo such a kind gesture, you accepted.

he set it down on the table in front of you, much to your surprise.

“oh, thank you! you really didn’t have to,” you said, looking up at him from your seat.

“nonsense,” he started, smiling softly, “you’ve been working hard.”

you, for whatever reason, took this as an opportunity to pretend barbatos was one of your human friends.

“you shouldn’t say that unless—”

that’s all he let you say. what you were going to say was, “you shouldn’t say that unless you plan on making out with me.” trouble was, he already knew that. you must have forgotten who you were talking to.

before you could finish, his hand was under your chin, and his other hand was resting on the arm of your chair, effectively caging you in, and effectively keeping you from looking away.

his smile went from benevolent to teasing meaning you got the menace you wanted, as he asked,“unless what?”

he took more joy in your flustered state than he would care to admit, but he’d recently learned that you had an affinity for trying to catch people off guard, so he thought it was more than fair to do the same to you—as a treat, for him.

that said, it’s no surprise that you had to endure relentless teasing, him asking you what you wanted from him, why you were so shy all of a sudden, telling you not to be shy and that he wouldn’t bite, unless you asked nicely. what? he liked how warm your face made his hand.

“what’s wrong? don’t you want to kiss me?”

okay. that was the last straw. you never even hinted that you didn’t wanna kiss this man, and here he was, making assumptions about you as a person.

you, in your infinite confidence and assertive nature, said, “i—i never said i didn’t want to.”

and you know what, you really showed him because even though he laughed at you, even though he made a show of taking off his gloves, even though his hand moved from the arm of the chair to your thigh—even though he took every necessary step to remind you that he was in control, you still got what you wanted. and then some.

your only saving grace with him is the fact that he breathes professionalism and he’s always busy. when he isn’t busy, however. well.

simeon

you goddamn heathen. oh, you fucking freak. simeon has a reputation to uphold, you can’t treat him like one of your heathen little human friends, which means you can’t just say whatever pops into your head when you’re talking to him, which means—you should really learn to take compliments normally.

simeon is a nice guy, and he likes you a lot, so it only makes sense that he compliments you whenever he can. in other words, he dishes out anywhere from one to four compliments whenever the two of you are together. he can’t help it, he just thinks you’re neat!

the fact remains that you chose to be a menace to the angelic persona he is supposed to project at all times.

it was a simple compliment. he enjoyed spending time with you, and he told you so, just telling you that your presence was a pleasant one.

your response was actually normal—it was a simple, “i like being around you too!”

in a way, this is simeon’s fault, if you think about it. he could’ve just said, “thank you,” and kept it pushing, but instead, he said, “really?”

why would he think you didn’t like being around him? that was unacceptable, so, really, what choice did you have but to give him the most solid affirmation he would ever hear?

“of course! every day, i’m like, ‘wow, simeon is so cool, we should make out,’ you know?”

what you were expecting was for him to blush and laugh it off, call you silly, and maybe pat your head for good measure. that was a reasonable thing to expect, albeit that is not even close to what you got.

since you were being so casual, simeon figured that he could—that he should—do the same. it was only natural that he stop being a model angel for a little while, right?

oh, don’t look so flustered, it’s not like you’ve never been backed against a wall before. how many times has a demon done this to you? it’s only fair that an angel gets a turn.

“actually,” he started, lips already brushing against yours as he spoke. “i don’t know. would you mind showing me?”

if you are, understandably, too flustered to function, he will gladly make the first move, don’t worry, but if his first move happens to be taking your bottom lip between his teeth instead of kissing you, well… there’s not much you’re going to be able to do about it, so you may as well just enjoy.

i mean, you tempt an angel, and you get what’s coming to you—that’s all there is to it.

similar to barbatos, you will only be safe from this man when he’s in public or around a few of the others. if you’re alone with him and in private, he’s already under the impression that he doesn’t have to be an angel with you, so find joy in the side of him you’ve uncovered.

solomon (derogatory)

you two deserve each other, really. both of you are public enemies. he was just as terrible as your friends from back home, except he was always walking the line like a tightrope. he was always on the verge of making his teasing into a reality, and to be quite frank, you were starting to get fed up—and you were right to be. but this is what you get for being a dirty solomon enjoyer.

all of his empty threats and demands about kissing you, his lingering touches on your lower back or waist or thighs, his dumb little smirks on his dumb little face, his occasional bites wherever you were vulnerable, his habit of putting his hand around your throat for fun (or so he says)—those all came with the territory. he hasn’t had a friend to tease in ages (he can’t do it to asmo without it immediately turning into an hour long event), so you get it all at once, congratulations!

don’t look so upset, he’s an attractive guy, so this is still a win.

now, all of that said, you were hard pressed to find an opportunity to catch this man off guard, but once you got your chance, you latched onto it exactly as you should’ve.

the two of you were in his room, studying (“studying”) for an upcoming exam. he was sitting in a chair, and you were on his bed a few feet away. you needed something from your bag, which was on the side of his chair farthest from you, so you decided to walk by him to get it, like a normal person. look at you, acting regular for once.

evidently, that was a mistake. as soon as you were in front of him, his hand was on your waist, and you were pulled into his lap.

you turned to look at him, eyebrows raised and everything, and he seemed to have an explanation ready to go, paired with one of his signature smiles.

“i was wondering when i’d get to bother you again.”

this was your chance—probably the only chance you’d get in a while, so it made sense that you took this opportunity to be heinous, even though you were in a rather compromising position.

“either sleep with me or leave me alone.”

you did it. for a moment, you had him. the surprise plastered on his face was enough gratification to last you a lifetime, however fleeting it may have been. unfortunately for you, he had a wonderful recovery time.

before you could fully enjoy the look on his face, it was gone, replaced by a more sinister expression that almost made you regret your decision.

for what it’s worth, you didn’t have to see that menacing look of his for long because he turned you away from him to press your back into his chest. if that makes you feel any better.

“i’ll never leave you alone,” he hummed, teeth already grazing your neck. his hand moved from your waist to your inner thigh, slowly separating one leg from the other. “but you already knew that.”

you didn’t have a saving grace with this man before, and now you never will.

#COME GET YALL JUICE!#i acc considered doing an sfw platonic ver with luke as a bonus but then i got tired #also didn't want anyone to see his name and freak #anyway #it's acc not funny how shy i got writing this BYE #how do people write smut omg #literal gods good lord #obey me #obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me dia #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me undateables

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kiame-sama · 4 years

Note

What if Killua were to find out Illumi is out to get the big sister Reader either trying to be with her or kill her? Also how would Gon react as well? Side note imagine both Hisoka and Illumi going after big sister Reader and Gon and Killua shielding her away from them idk I just find that being adorable ^_^

This evolved far more than I had expected it to. I honestly was just trying to make a cute little scenario and it turned into this. Someone stop my sinful hands.

Warnings; Overprotective little bros, stalking, Hisoka's general behavior, Illumi never blinks, 12-13 year olds are not good at keeping secrets, surprise guest appearance!

"We should go."

"Hm? But we just got here."

You glanced down at Killua, seeing him gazing somewhere away from the three of you. Both you and Gon wore confused expressions, as Killua was the one who wanted to go the forest to train in the first place. Now he was saying he wanted to leave.

"We shouldn't stay. Let's go."

Killua gripped your hand and pulled you with him, quickly walking away from the area and refusing to look back. Gon followed and kept pace as the three of you moved to a more populated area in the city you had stopped in. Gon heard something about a powerful Nen user and wanting to see them.

Naturally, you and Killua were alright with going anywhere Gon chose, seeing as usually Gon took the initiative on most things. Training was just a typical thing for you three even though none of you honestly needed to train. You couldn't train your nen due to the fact your nen abilities were the kind that could only be cataclysmic or laughably weak with no inbetweens.

If anything, you just accompanied the boys to keep them from making their usual poor decisions. Seeing who can survive going down a massive waterfall is not typically a good idea, but one they've tried several times prior. You were basically an unpaid nanny and elder sibling to the boys.

Recently, they had been acting more suspicious than usual. They would randomly leave places while dragging you with them, checking over their shoulders, constantly trying to direct your attention, and all sorts of other things. It was like they were trying to keep a secret from you, but doing it poorly.

A good part of you wanted to go off on your own to see what on Earth had the two boys so stirred up, but they were insistent on keeping you with them. You wondered if they were just messing with you by playing some kind of game, or if there really was something they were trying to keep from you. At this point, you were tempted to just flat out ask what their deal was.

~~~~~~~~

"Wait, Illumi too!?"

"Shh! Keep it down! Someone's gonna hear you."

"But why is your brother after (y/n) too?"

"Probably wants to get to me or something by using her."

"Wait, does he want to hurt her or not?"

"Don't know. Don't want to find out. What about Hisoka? Figured out what his deal is?"

"Well, he likes fighting people who are strong, right?"

"But wasn't he talking like a pervert when he asked about her?"

"I guess... But I think that's just how he is all the time."

Killua frowned, looking over at the hotel bed (y/n) was sleeping in. Apparently the both of them have a common goal, keeping (y/n) safe. Killua hadn't known Hisoka was after her, but he knew Illumi was. He knew how Illumi usually approached his targets, but Illumi was acting more obvious than usual. Like he wanted to be noticed.

Gon knew Hisoka had been following them for a while, and that he had an interest in (y/n) after she used one of her nen attacks to create a distraction during a fight not too long ago. He was aware with how closely Hisoka was following them, and he was trying to keep (y/n) far away from the homicidal man. It seemed he and Killua were both doing their damndest to protect the woman they saw as a big sister.

"So we have to keep both of them away from her?"

"Might be a good idea."

"Should we tell her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Killua just sighed, knowing no matter how he explained it, Gon would not take it as an answer and would just ask more questions. Even as he glanced out the hotel window, he kept lookout for any sign of either of the two men. He would not let Illumi or Hisoka hurt (y/n) no matter what.

~~~~~~~~

"Well, look who's here~♠"

"What do you want, Hisoka?"

"So cold! If you must know, I'm here for that lovely creature Killua and Gon travel with."

"... She's mine."

"Oh~? Finally have an interest in someone? Looks like I'll just have to steal her away then."

The black-haired assassin simply stared back at his red-haired associate, feeling a vague level of irritation bubble up inside of him. He had been following the makeshift family group for a good while now and had recently made his decision on what to do with the woman that traveled with his younger brother. He had been considering simply killing her just to get her out of the way while also weakening Killua, but his father had come up with a better solution to the problem.

From what he had been told, (Y/n) had interesting and impressive nen that his father and grandfather had been witness to when they had gone to retrieve Killua. Apparently she had an impressive level of control over natural disasters and could bring them about with her nen. Tornados, tsunamis, earthquakes, volcanos, even meteor showers should the timing be right.

That in and of itself was impressive, but standing up against his father and grandfather was simply amazing. It would be seen as foolish for anyone to face the two alone, but she had only been distracting them long enough to allow Killua time to flee before doing the same. Granted, the two had not been out to kill her specifically, but they weren't against it either.

There was also the fact that she shielded Killua from being injured and put her life on the line to keep him safe. All of these things made it rather clear she was a prime choice to be Illumi's wife.

"She has Killua's trust and can control him better than most. That paired with her nen abilities, she would make an ideal wife."

"Not if I steal her away first. Oh, I can just imagine how delicious the battle will be~ And the added bonus of fucking her once our battle is done~!"

"She doesn't even know who you are."

"... What?"

"She has never actually met you, right? You've only seen one example of her strength and she wasn't even focusing on you."

"Fine. Does she know you?"

"... She knows my family, which is more than you can say."

Hisoka couldn't stop the tisk of annoyance that came from him or the way his grin fell. Illumi was right on that, at least. His lovely (y/n) didn't know who he was or have any contact with those who knew him other than Gon. And if Gon's behavior was anything to go by, he would have a tough time getting close to the woman.

Hisoka turned to continue prodding at Illumi before a smooth and silky voice interrupted him, sounding out from the shadows.

"It seems I have you both beat."

~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean? We've not been acting weird!"

You couldn't help the way that your face reflected just how little you believed the boy standing in front of you. Killua could lie well enough, Gon couldn't tell a convincing lie to save his life, and you already knew both well enough to tell when they were lying. Being fed up with their behavior, you were ready to set in on a full scolding session if they didn't tell you what you wanted to know.

Both boys were doing their best to avoid your gaze and search for a way out of the situation they found themselves in. Killua refused to make eye-contact and a nervous little blush took over his fair cheeks. Gon had that awkward grin and laugh as he tried to weasel his way out of your questioning.

"Boys, for fuck's sake-"

"It's certainly been a while since we last had the chance to meet, (y/n)."

You quickly turned on your heel, guarding the two boys unconsciously from the newcomer. To your surprise, however, you had no reason to worry the moment you saw the mysterious man standing before you. You knew that fur-trimmed coat anywhere and you could already feel the smile pulling up the corner of your lips.

"Chrollo!"

The man smirked slightly at your happy tone as you greeted him, not noticing your additional two observers or the dumbfounded expressions on the faces of everyone other than yourself and Chrollo. Killua was the first to break the silence, clearly stirred up by the sudden turn of events that had taken place.

"Wait, you know him!?"

You chuckled softly, turning back to the white-haired boy with a relaxed smile on your face. The incredulous tone he had taken did not deter or bother you, having actually expected something similar to occur.

"Know him? I grew up with him! He's a childhood friend, of mine. My big brother is one of the original members of the troupe! Of course I know Chrollo."

"But, wait, they call him 'boss'! They never use his name!"

"Yeah, there's no way I'm calling him 'boss' or anything other than his name. Maybe 'friend' but that almost seems too generic."

You hummed in thought, turning away from the gobsmacked boys and back to those familiar eyes, which had yet to leave your figure.

"It seems we've both grown up quite a bit since we last spoke. Though it seemed impossible, you're somehow more beautiful than ever."

"Chrollo..."

A deep flustered blush make your cheeks burn under his relaxed gaze, feeling a kind of giddy excitement in response to his words. You had to admit, you may have been harboring a slight crush for Chrollo since your childhood days and his flattering words were just icing on the cake. A cake you desperately wanted to have a piece of.

"That's cheating!"

The sudden upset voice pulled your attention away from the handsome man to your previously ignored audience. A man with bloody red hair and clown-like face-paint seemed to be more than a little frustrated as he stared at Chrollo. Next to him stood a man with long black hair and emotionless eyes, like a doll's or a shark's, deep pits of nothingness.

Judging from the first man's response, something more seemed to be going on and you wanted answers.

"Okay, just what in the hell is happening?"

You huffed indignantly, hands on your hips as you scanned over the five males who stood around you. Surprisingly, the man with doll eyes was the first to break the silence.

"It would seem a competition to earn your affections has begun."

"Wait, Illumi, you're not trying to kill (y/n)??"

"I was, at first. But more recently I have been attempting to split her away from you and approach her."

"What? Why in the hell do you want to do that?"

"She is the ideal wife for me. Father, Grandfather, Mother, and Great-Grandfather all agree that I should wed her as soon as possible."

"... You... YOU WANT TO MARRY (Y/N)??"

"I believe I have already stated that."

You were caught off guard by the nonchalant way the man spoke, as if he were discussing something as simple as going to the store instead of talking about marrying you. The red-head seemed to be increasingly frustrated and had yet to move his irritated gaze away from you and Chrollo.

"I'd love to fight her first, but I'm not against tying her down to keep as my personal little toy~"

"I won't let you kill (y/n)!"

"Oh, Gon~ Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to kill her. Well, not completely, at least~ I plan on enjoying my fight with her and then enjoying her body even if she's within an inch of death. Is that so bad?"

You suddenly felt rather unsafe near the two men who had just openly admitted to lusting after you and potentially following you during your travels. Not to mention the red-head basically plainly stated he wanted to badly hurt you and beat you before having sex with you. You then turned your gaze to Chrollo, hoping beyond all belief he wasn't playing the same game as the other two.

"My intentions haven't changed for quite a while. I've always found you attractive. I simply refused to let these two scuffle over you when I've had my eyes on you for a while."

"..."

You almost felt like the world was spinning or that you had been punched several times without realizing it. Your childhood friend and crush just openly stated his interest in you, which left you floored with emotions. A clown just spoke about wanting to use you for his pleasure in a fight and during sex. And a living doll basically proposed to you without proposing.

What?

"Wait- Kill, Gon- you two know them?"

"Yeah. We met Hisoka during the Hunter's exam, and Illumi is my eldest brother. There was a big fight between Kurapika and the Phantom Troupe and we got kidnapped so we met Chrollo and the other phantoms."

"... What-? Wait, so that means your father and grandfather- who I have fought against- somehow decided from that fight that I would be a good wife for their eldest son??"

"I guess so. You are super strong and your nen is powerful as all hell. Besides, fighting in my family is a normal thing. That's probably the quickest way to become a friend of the family, actually. Fight well against someone strong in the family, don't die while fighting, and you may as well be an unofficial family member."

"..."

"... You okay, big sis?"

"..."

"Um..? (Y/n)?"

"..."

"Did you go into shock or something?"

Killua cocked his head to the side, watching you stand unblinking as you tried to process everything that happened. It was kinda like you just became a statue after being told everything, which didn't bode well for the two boys. Gon and Killua exchanged a glance, as if trying to confirm what had happened.

"Gon, what do we do?"

"... Run?"

"I'm good with that. I'll grab (y/n), you get us out of here?"

"Yeah!"

Despite the fact that you could hear and see everything still, it felt as if your body had fully shut down. Had you been more in control, you probably would have scolded the boys for making their plan out-loud, but at least their plan involved keeping you safe. Even as you found yourself being carried by the same boy you watched over, you couldn't help but question what you were going to do now.

#x reader #yandere #female reader #yandere x reader #fem reader #reader insert #yandere adult trio x reader #yandere hisoka x reader #yandere illumi x reader #platonic gon x reader x killua #tw yandere

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spade-riddles · 3 years

Text

Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes.

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming.

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable.

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships.

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night.

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet.

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case.

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch.

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first.

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it.

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised.

Just my two cents.

___________________

Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Day-to-Day

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings series.

Chapter 2: Theo

This chapter is all about Theo coming out to his family, which I know can be a sensitive subject for people. So I just wanted to give fair warning before anyone reads it.

Word count: 4.7k

Read here on ao3, or below the cut.

Let me know what you think!

January 2010

Emily was nervous as soon as the school called, Theo’s teacher, a kind woman called Ms Gorman, wanted to speak to her as soon as possible. Aaron couldn’t make it, a meeting with his superiors running over, so she had a cranky Amelia in her lap as she sat in a slightly too small chair in Theo’s classroom.

“Mrs Hotchher, I understand that the circumstances around Theo’s recent absence from class was...unusual to say the least.” Ms Gorman says kindly. “But I do have a couple of concerns.”

Emily frowns, her heart constricting in her chest, fears about her son being held back a year taking root. She shushes Amelia as she cries out, holding the small toy she had brought to entertain her infront of her.

“I did try my best with homeschooling, I know it wasn’t ideal but we did ok.”

“That’s not what I mean, Mrs Hotchner. Theo is a very bright boy, and he is doing very well academically.” Ms Gorman reassures, and Emily feels a brief moment of relief. “My concern is more around the social side of things.”

“Oh.” Emily says. “He hasn’t said anything. What about Ollie, and his other friends? You couldn’t get them to spend 10 minutes away from each other before.”

The truth rolled around Emily’s head. ‘Before’ was back prior to their world being torn apart and a serial killer almost murdering Aaron in their old home. Before she had spent 6 months in a cramped apartment with her kids, allowed no contact with her husband or anyone else in their lives.

“6 months is a long time when you are their age. They’ve all moved on.”

It felt like a gut punch to Emily, guilt spreading through her body quickly. She swallows against the lump of emotion in her throat. “Does he talk to anyone?”

Ms Gorman smiles sadly at her before shaking her head. “He tried at first, but he just sits alone now at lunch and at recess. I’ve tried to encourage him to play with the others, but all he wants to do is see you or his older brother.”

Emily closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath before she looks back at Ms Gorman.

“Thank you for letting me know.” __________

Theo doesn’t want to talk about it at all on the way home from school, despite her attempts to bribe him with ice cream. Jack isn’t even able to pull him out of it with promises of a few rounds of MarioKart. Theo solemnly eats his dinner before going to his room early, asking if he can just go upstairs to play alone.

Emily sighs as she gets Amelia out of her high chair, kissing the sleepy baby’s head as she pulls her into her arms. “Bed time for you I think, sweet girl.”

Aaron walks over to them and smiles, kissing his wife on the lips and his daughter on her head.

“Why don’t I put her down and you go speak to Theo?” He says, a tightness in his voice that had been there since she told him what the teacher had explained to her. He was already lifting the 11 month old from her arms as Emily started to protest. “We both know you’re the only one he’ll talk to.”

Emily opens her mouth to argue, but Amelia interrupts her, mumbling into her fathers shirt as she sleepily lays her head against him.

“Dada.”

Emily rolls her eyes as she relents. “I fed her almost exclusively with my body for 10 months and you’re the favourite.” She says, eyebrow raised but no malice in her voice. They both knew she didn’t really mind, that she was delighted that the once strong bond between father and daughter had been repaired after their long separation.

She kisses her daughter’s head again, whispering goodnight and words of love against her skin before she heads upstairs to her son’s room. She knocks lightly on the door.

“Theo? Can I come in?”

There’s a sniff through the door that makes her heart twist in her chest. “No.”

“Theo, baby. I want to make sure you’re ok.” There’s a pause. “Please?”

“Ok.”

Emily walks into the room to find Theo sat on his bed, tears streaming down his face and Archie held tightly in his arms. “Oh my sweet boy.”

She walks over to the bed and sits next to him at the head of it. She wraps her arm around him and he immediately curls into her embrace, his wet face pressed against her shirt.

“I have no friends.” He cries, and she shushes him, pulling him fully into her lap so she can hug him properly.

“Your teacher said you have been having some problems with Ollie and the others.”

“They don’t want to talk to me anymore.” He sniffs. “They said I’m weird.”

Emily immediately stiffens, anger spiking in her veins. She hears a voice in the back of her head, that sounded suspiciously like her husband, that was telling her she couldn’t tell off a bunch of 7 year olds for upsetting her son.

“That’s not very nice of them.” She says, kissing the top of his head, surprised at how even her voice sounded. “Have you tried talking to anyone else?”

Theo sniffs again. “There’s a girl called Lucy that seems ok.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to her?”

Theo pulls back from her enough to look at her, an indigent look on his face that she just knew was all her. “Because she’s a girl, Mommy.” He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, I’m a girl.” She replies, fake indignation in her voice as she pokes his nose. “You speak to me all the time.”

“You don’t count.”

“Oh I don’t, huh?” She says, tickling him until he relents. He is laying against her again and she runs her hand through his hair. “Just try talking to her, baby. You never know she could end up being fun. Even if she is a girl.”

Emily stays with him until he falls asleep, slipping out from under him with years of practice at not disturbing him. She goes in search of her husband and finds him in their room, laying on their bed, one hand under his head, still fully dressed from his day at work.

“Is he ok?” Aaron asks as soon as she enters the room, his voice tight and his eyes are fixed on the ceiling.

She sighs, joining him on the bed. “I think he will be.” She looks at him, biting her lip when she sees the barely suppressed emotion on his face. “Are you ok?”

“It’s my fault.”

“Aaron, it’s no-”

“Don’t say it’s not my fault.” He says, his voice too close to begging for her liking. “I goaded a serial killer and he came after me, after us. And now our kids are traumatised, and our son doesn’t have any friends left.” Emily grabs his hand and tugs him towards her. He doesn’t resist, rolling onto his side until he is pressed up against her, his head on her chest. She wraps her arms around him, scratching her nails through his hair.

“Honey.” She punctuates the pet name with a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going to let you blame yourself for any of this. It’s all George Foyet’s fault. All of it.” She almost feels her own resolve slip when she feels his tears through her shirt, opposite to the side that Theo had cried on only an hour earlier. “Ok?”

“Ok.” He says, his hand moving to her hip to squeeze it. “Ok.” He repeats, sounding more sure.

They lay there for a while, taking comfort in each other that two months after their reunion still felt precious.

“What would we all do without you?” Aaron asks into her shirt, his voice sounding lighter than it had done all evening.

Emily laughs. “I don’t know. I think our kids would all have less of an attitude though.”

“You’ve got that right.” He replies, and she can feel his smug grin against her chest.

“Jerk.” She says, unable to stop herself from laughing. He looks up at her and they kiss, his hand on her hip tightening. They pull back and she leans her forehead against his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” __________

November 2020

Theo wants to get it off his chest, he wants to tell his family before he leaves for college. He decides to tell Penelope first. Aside from his parents she had always been his biggest supporter, his confidant. Her friendship with his mom and dad had served him well before, a rare teenage tantrum about them being over protective turned around in moments as she reminded them how much they had been through to have him, and to keep their family safe. She had driven him home, his head lowered as he apologised to his mother for their crossed words. Now he needed her advice.

He had sent her a text the day before asking if he could come round after school for a chat, saying he needed some help with something, his insistence that it would be kept a secret from his mom and dad clear. Penelope replied, almost immediately like she always did, with the affirmative and Theo found himself unable to concentrate throughout this classes. His mind focused elsewhere.

Penelope answered her front door in a flurry of bright colours and barely concealed anxiety. She ushers him into her home, a hug and a greeting in quick succession as she guides him into her living room.

“Now, you have got to tell me what this is all about.” She says, already passing him his favourite soda before he can ask for it. “I know you said you wanted to keep whatever it is between us, but if you’ve done drugs or killed someone or something else illegal, I don’t think I can keep it from them.”

“Aunt Pen-”

“Your dad has this way of looking directly into my soul or something. And your mom is terrifying when it comes to you guys. I’d have to go into hiding-”

“Aunt Pen.” Theo says more firmly, finally getting her attention. She stops ranting and stares at him, an expectant look on her face. “It’s nothing illegal. I promise.”

She seems to notice how serious he is and she instantly calms, the concerned look on her face melting away into comfort. “Theo, you know you can tell me anything.”

He takes a deep breath, and he says the words he had never said out loud, but had known were true for as long as he remembered. “I’m gay.”

Penelope doesn’t react for a second, no emotion passes over her face, and Theo very briefly wonders if he had somehow made a mistake. Then all of a sudden he’s in a bone crushing hug, and he can almost feel the relief pouring out of him.

“Am I the first person you’ve told?” She asks, still holding him tightly.

Theo swallows against the lump in his throat, tears of relief on his face. “Yeah.”

“And you want my advice on how to tell your mom and dad?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Oh.” Penelope suddenly exclaims, pulling back from Theo, making him jump slightly. “I have an idea. You could get one of those confetti gun things, fill it with rainbow confetti and just let it off at dinner.”

Theo stares at his aunt for a second, the enthusiasm rolling off of her in waves. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

“A cake?”

“Aunt Pen.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to do something over the top. I just want to tell them.”

“Teddy Bear.” Penelope says, using the nickname she had used when he was small. She was, without a doubt, the only person he would let get away with calling him that now. “Your mom and dad love you. Nothing will ever change that. You should just tell them, whenever you feel ready.”

He nods, a smile on his face. “Ok.”

She sends him home with enough baked goods to feed a small town, and a fierce hug at the door. “I am so proud of you, Theo.”

It’s the only secret Penelope Garcia ever keeps. __________

The next day Theo comes home from school to a package, Penelope’s recognisable handwriting on the label. He takes it to his room and opens it, something like a mix of a laugh and a sigh coming out when he pulls out a handheld confetti cannon.

There’s a small note attached to it that simply says ‘in case you change your mind.’

He hides it under his bed. ___________

Emily is surprised when she looks up from her never ending stream of paperwork to a knock on her office door to see her son standing there, nerves rolling off of him. There were times when it was hard for her to accept that so many years had passed. That her once tiny baby who refused to be separated from her in the first few weeks of his life, although her husband would argue it was years, was now this 18 year old standing in front of her.

Her nerves were immediately on edge. He would only have finished school just less than an hour ago, meaning he had come directly from school to Quantico. The kids used to visit her at work more when they were younger, Aaron bringing them in on evenings when she was still Unit Chief and they were fresh back from a case, paperwork too behind for her to go straight home. He would walk into her office, Theo and Jack by his side and Amelia resting on his hip with a bag full of food prepared for them all. This was rare, just one of them showing up unannounced, and a number of worse case scenarios were already tumbling around her head.

“Theo, hi.” She immediately abandons her work, pen forgotten on her desk as she approaches her son. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out, sounding anything but ok. “I just wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

“Of course. Give me one second.” She walks past him, a hand briefly on his shoulder before she pokes her head out of her office and tells her assistant to give them some time. She then closes the door and pulls the blinds shut giving them total privacy, already completely prepared to hunt down whoever had Theo this upset. She sits on the couch she keeps in her office and pats the seat next to her, encouraging him to join her.

At first Emily just sits there, watching Theo intently as he avoids looking at her, worry all over his face. She lets five minutes of tortuous silence pass. She sees how he is picking at his cuticles, a habit he had inherited from her, how his left knee was bouncing constantly, anxiety rolling off of him.

“Theo, honey.” She places a hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing. It makes him look at her and she gives him an encouraging smile. “You can take as long as you need to tell me whatever it is you want to. I just need to know if you’re ok, because I’m worried.”

“Sorry.” He says, trying to smile at her.

“Oh sweetheart, no.” She cups the back of his head. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Theo suddenly closes the gap between them and hugs her tightly. He’d always been the most affectionate out of her children, even throughout his teenage years he had still consistently sought her out. A bond between the two of them that Aaron often said even teenage hormones couldn’t fracture.

Emily hugs him back, frowning at what almost felt like desperation in his embrace. “You’re ok, Theo. You’re ok.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

He pulls back from her, and she instinctively wipes the tear away from his cheek. Something she had done countless times in his life. Something she would do as long as he needed her to.

Theo takes a deep breath. “I’m gay.” He says, his voice shaky but his words certain.

Emily had known this was coming, she always had. She had seen how anxious Theo had been lately but waited for him to come to her, for him to be ready. She smiles at him and wipes another tear away from his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

There’s a beat of silence before Theo furrows his brow, looking so much like Aaron it makes her smile wider. “That’s it?”

“Were you expecting something else?”

“No.” He says, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Lucy came out to her parents lately and it didn’t go well. I guess I was worried.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Do you think Dad will be ok? What about grandma?”

Emily smiles at him again and pulls him back into a hug and kisses the side of his head.

“Sweetheart.” She soothes, her hand running up and down his back. “Your dad loves you, no matter what. It’s kind of part of the whole being a parent thing. I can be with you when you tell him if you want.” Emily smiles when she feels him nod against her. “Just take it one step at a time. And as far as your grandmother goes, if she says anything even slightly awful you leave her to me. I’m long overdue for a fight with her anyway.”

Theo laughs at that and pulls away, and wipes the few remaining tears from his face. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t think I could go head to head with her.”

“Lucky for you I have 50 years of practice.” She smiles. “Do you want to go home? Talk to Dad?”

“Don’t you have work?”

“You’re more important than any of that.” Emily says gesturing to her desk. “It’s completely up to you though.”

“Let's do it.” __________

Theo is grateful for his mother as she sits next to him on the couch, close enough for him to reach out for if he needs her. She’d always been his favourite person for as long as he could remember. His memories of the time they had been separated from his father were slightly fuzzy, and at this stage when he dreamt about it he wasn’t always sure what was real and what his brain had made up to torture him. What Theo did remember, however, was his mother. How she had held it together, the way she had still let them all know how much they were loved.

It was only as he got older, and he realised how disgustingly in love his parents were, it occurred to him how difficult it must have been for her. He had seen how miserable either of them were if they were separated for a few days at a time, and every time they hugged a little too long in the foyer of their home, only breaking apart at Amelia’s protests, he wondered how they had managed it for 6 months.

When he tells his dad his most closely guarded secret he feels instant relief at his supportive reaction. It was almost, word for word, the same as his mother’s, and a small part of Theo wondered if they had practised it.

__________

He tells his brother over the phone a week later, Jack’s working schedule as a resident at the local was difficult and made getting together tricky at times.

Theo takes a deep breath as he walks into the living room, a small smile on his face as he finds his younger sister sitting on the couch, her head buried in her phone.

“Mills.”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t look up from her phone.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah.”

Theo pauses when she still doesn’t look up at him. “Amelia.” He says, the use of her full name finally drawing her gaze from her phone. “It’s important.”

She holds her hands up and makes a show of locking her phone and putting it down in her lap. “You have my undivided attention.”

Theo takes a seat next to her on the couch. “I’ve already told Mom and Dad, and Jack, so I thought it was important to tell you too. I’m gay.”

Amelia looks at him for a second, expression blank before she picks her phone back. “Are you free right now, or are you doing this with everyone tonight?”

Theo furrows his brows at her. “Sure...I’m free.”

“Cool.” She stands up, furiously texting someone. “Jack thought you wouldn’t come out until after Christmas, and now he owes me $20. Can you drive me to his place?”

Theo stares at her for a second, his car keys already in his hand. “You guys bet on that?”

“Yeah.” Amelia replies, smiling at a text he assumes is from Jack. “Can we go to Taco Bell after?”

“Why?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “To spend my $20. Obviously.” __________

Amelia sits next to him, her feet on the dash of his new car, eating what appeared to be her third taco in as many minutes. She reaches into the paper bag in the passenger seat footwell and passes him one. Theo takes it with a smile on his face.

Amelia nudges him with her elbow. “I’m very lucky to have you as an older brother.” She briefly rests her head on his shoulder, and Theo is taken aback by the out of character sentiment from his sister.

Then as quickly as it happened, she removes her head from his shoulder and takes a sip of her Baja Blast. “So, what’s your type? Big and muscly like Uncle Derek, or nerdy like Uncle Spence?”

“Mills.”

“What? I’ve got to be on the lookout for you.” She takes another sip of her drink. “You’re terrible at flirting.”

“You’re not even 12. You shouldn’t even know what flirting is.” He deadpans.

“Oh come on.” Amelia says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known what flirting is since I could talk. Mom and Dad do it constantly. It’s disgusting.” __________

“It’s rare we get the house to ourselves.” Aaron says as he wraps his arms around Emily’s waist from behind, kissing the side of her head. She was standing at the kitchen counter, cutting up some vegetables for dinner. It was the closest thing Aaron would let her do to cooking, his claim that she could burn water always quickly following his protests that he could prepare meals by himself.

Emily smiles as she briefly leans back into him. “Careful, or it will be your fault when I cut myself.” To make a point she purposely pushes the knife down a little harder than necessary. “And we both know you can’t cope if I’m hurt.”

“That’s unfair.” He says squeezing her a little tighter.

“Do I need to bring up the time my appendix nearly exploded, again? Or do you remember that differently to how I do?”

He takes the knife from her hand and turns her round so she’s facing him. Her arms automatically wrap around him, her hands trailing up his back to rest at the edge of his shoulder blades. Aaron leans down to kiss her, determined to wipe the smug look off her face, when they hear the scrape of a key in the front door. He groans and rests his forehead against hers.

Emily laughs and briefly presses her lips against his. “We’ll carry on this conversation later, Mr Hotchner.”

“That better be a promise.” He says, pulling her slightly closer, hearing Theo and Amelia’s voices drift into the house.

“Always, my love.” She kisses him again before extracting herself from his grip. She walks towards where she can hear the kids talking, and she arrives to find Amelia going upstairs.

“Does she not want dinner?” Emily asks Theo, watching her daughters retreating figure up the stairs.

“I think Mills just ate more tacos than anyone ever has in one sitting.” Theo says, smiling at the look of bewilderment on his mother’s face. “She bet Jack $20 that I would come out before Christmas, she made me take her to Taco Bell to spend her winnings.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. She knew Ameila had very little tact, and a part of her was concerned at what she could have said to her brother. “Do you need me to have a word with her?”

“No it’s ok.” Theo shakes his head. “Mom, did you and Dad already know?”

Emily flushes slightly, averting her eyes from her son before she looks back at him. “Yes. We did. We were just waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to tell us.” She laughs at the look of confusion on his face. “Honey, I think you sometimes forget what your dad and I both used to do for a living. Plus, your first ever crush was Joe Jonas from Camp Rock.”

Theo laughed at that, the relief blooming in his chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t our place, honey. This is your story to tell.” She opens her arms up for a hug which he gladly accepts. “We’re both so proud of you.” ______

After dinner Aaron goes to the home office to mark some papers for the class he taught at Quantico. Full retirement had never quite suited him, so he taught one class a semester. Theo finds himself standing outside the office just before he went to bed, after watching a movie with his mother, knocking to say goodnight to his father.

“Come in.”

Theo opens the door and walks in, hovering in the doorway. “I’m off to bed. Mom says she’ll meet you in your bedroom to finish the conversation you started.” Theo says. Aaron tries to hide the smile on his face, but obviously fails when his son makes a noise of disgust. “I should have known that was something gross.”

“Sorry, you know she thinks it’s funny to freak you out.” Aaron laughs, his amusement at his wife's antics still as strong as they were when they first met. “If you need me as backup the first time you bring a boyfriend home let me know. We both know what your mother is like.” Aaron says, smirking as Theo’s face pales, images of Jack’s first attempts at bringing a girl home flicking through his brain.

“Oh God, she’ll find a way to bring up the you vs Foyet thing won’t she.”

Aaron smiles as he takes a sip of his drink. “Without a doubt.” __________

Aaron sneaks into his bedroom a couple of hours later, well aware that his wife was likely fast asleep by now. He smiles when he sees her curled up in the middle of the bed, mouth slightly open as she snored lightly, her hand under his pillow.

He quickly gets ready for bed before joining her. The movement of the bed wakes her enough for her to make a disgruntled noise before she moves closer to him, her thigh pressed over his waist.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” He soothes, securing her to him with a hand on her back.

“I think I promised to do something dirty when you came to bed.” She mumbles, face pressed into him.

Aaron chuckles, his hand drifting under her sleep shirt to press against her skin. “Another time, baby. You’re tired.”

She hums into him. “I’m glad Theo is ok, he seemed happier at dinner.”

“I think he’s just relieved it's out there.”

They lay in silence, and he thinks she may have fallen asleep until she speaks again. “He told me that Penelope sent him an explosive prop to come out to us with.��

“She did what?” __________

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fan fiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #family #family fluff #chaotic hotchners #WTB Universe #they all deserve this happiness after what I put them through #I know it #you know it #Penelope Garcia would be the best aunt #I will take no feedback on that fact

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