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harrysgloves · 3 years

Text

Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours.

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon.

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin.

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit.

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space.

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone.

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible.

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given.

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything.

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better.

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room.

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!"

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it."

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?"

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed.

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet."

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair.

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions.

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to.

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship.

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather.

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch.

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke.

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near.

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back.

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left.

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you."

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you.

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away.

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one."

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition."

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste.

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat.

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs.

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire.

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest.

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side.

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter.

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again."

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling.

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?"

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

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1990jeevas · 3 years

Text

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

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openheartchoices · 4 years

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Five Times He Didn’t, One Time He Did (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Five Times He Didn’t, One Time He Did

Open Heart: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Olivia Summers)

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Five times that Ethan Ramsey didn’t kiss the girl and the one time he did.

A/N: I actually really loved writing this, and the idea has been in my head for a hot minute now. also this was written at like 3 am last night, so i haven’t edited yet. lots of love & happy reading!

**also, I don’t know if I’ve ever brought up a taglist, but I did (finally) start one, and it’s below. A few of you have asked to be tagged, so you’re below if you’ve asked! I started my tumblr about a month ago, and I am ready to start building onto my masterlist and taglist. Let me know if you want to be added now that I officially have one! **

aglist: @kaavyaethanramsey @nooruleman @missmiimiie @bellcat2010 @junehiratas @perriewinklenerdie @openheart12 @ethandaddyramsey

It was in the on-call room the first time.

Ethan found her bundled up, still in her scrubs and white coat, in a corner where she slept peacefully. The room was always cold, but it was even more so with the frigid winter weather outside. Olivia had been working a long shift that had truly exhausted her.

As he moved closer to her sleeping form, he realized he didn’t want to wake her up. He laughed lightly upon seeing her frizzy ponytail, strands of her blonde hair framing her sleeping face. Her mouth was slightly open, deep breaths coming out of it.

He felt guilty about waking her up, but he needed her for a case, and she hadn’t been answering her pager. Ethan knew why once he saw it laying on the table beside her. A nurse had informed him at the nurses’ station that she had seen Olivia go into the room, but she didn’t recall seeing her come back out.

He hesitantly started to reach down to wake her before moving his hand multiple times back and forth as he contemplated on if it was really necessary to wake her. Ethan bit his lip while trying to decide what to do.

Letting out a sigh, Ethan finally shook her gently, knowing she was going to have to get up eventually. “Olivia, hey. Wake up.”

She rolled over onto her back, her eyes still shut as she stretched. Sleepily, Olivia opened her eyes. Once realizing who had just woken her up, she darted straight up as rubbed her eyes frantically. “Hey, Dr. Ramsey! What do you need?”

“I needed to borrow you. We have a case I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Okay, sounds good,” she replied back, fake enthusiasm and pep in her voice in an attempt to act like she hadn’t just been in a deep sleep.

As she pulled her hair out of the mess it was in and threw it back up to look nicer, Ethan turned to her again. “I’ve been paging you.”

Her cheeks went red and her eyes opened wide. Olivia looked everywhere but at Ethan as she grabbed her pager that sat on the table. She sheepishly looked back up at him. “I must’ve really been out.”

“You lucked up that it wasn’t an emergency. You have to be more careful than that.” However, upon seeing the bags under her eyes, he sighed. “Just… try to get some sleep at home. Have you been sleeping?”

Olivia shrugged as she played with the sleeves of her white coat. “Somewhat.”

Ethan frowned. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“I have a lot going on. My head runs a million miles a night.” Was all she said.

Ethan had a feeling as to why she hadn’t been sleeping. He had an even bigger feeling that it most definitely involved his recent decision to erase everything they’d ever had. He could feel the guilt coming from a mile away.

“Well,” he cleared his throat as sat beside her, “if you, uh, ever need to talk, you know I’m here to listen.”

“I can’t talk about my problems to you when you are my problem,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes for the first time since he had come into the room.

Ethan could feel all the air leaving his lungs as he made eye contact with Olivia. The distance between their hands was only a few centimeters as Ethan slowly moved it over, their pinky fingers barely touching.

They didn’t have to say anything. The small, weightless touch of their hands together and the look they gave each other said everything. It screamed the three unsaid words Olivia wanted to tell him, and it was a clear definition of Ethan’s longing for the blonde doctor beside him.

He noticed Olivia’s eyes darting down to his lips as he found himself doing the same thing. They both wanted it; that much was obvious. However, Ethan knew he couldn’t.

Ethan broke the gaze, awkwardly staring at the floor and quickly stood up. “We, um, need to go to my office to discuss the case.”

Without looking back at her, Ethan went out of the on-call room before he could do anything he considered stupid and reckless. On the journey back to his office, it took all he had in him to not kick himself for what he was doing to her.

—

They were in the parking lot of Donahue’s the second time.

Olivia was pacing back and forth like a maniac when he found her. She was completely oblivious to him as her eyes focused on her phone as she frantically dialed a number.

Ethan watched her for a moment. She was wringing her hands together, something she only did when she was nervous, as the phone sat wedged between her cheek and her shoulder. Whoever was on the phone finally answered.

“It’s about time you answered the phone!” Olivia exclaimed. “I’ve been a nervous wreck since I got your text. What’s wrong?”

Ethan didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he was curious who was on the phone. Could it be a boyfriend? Was it Dr. Trinh? Was it a family member? He really didn’t know.

Olivia suddenly gasped. “Really? I’m so happy for you! But I really freaked out at your text. It sounded like you were being kidnapped.”

Ethan listened further as Olivia kept talking. “Send me pictures. I can’t wait to see her! I’ll be in to visit as soon as I can get time off. Give her lots of hugs from me when she’s here. Love you, Octavia. You’ve got this!”

Olivia continued her conversation until she finally said her goodbyes. Before Ethan could move from the place he’d been standing and eavesdropping, Olivia turned around and caught him.

“Were you listening to me on the phone?”

Ethan sheepishly shrugged. “You sounded worried. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were wringing your hands which is something you only do when you’re nervous.”

Olivia laughed. “Well, since you’re being nosy, my sister is in labor with my niece. She sent me a very urgent text, and I got worried something was wrong.”

“She’s doing good?”

“Yes. She said she should be here soon,” Olivia said with a smile. “I can’t wait. Octavia is going to be an incredible mom. She’s younger than me, but she was always the mom of us all.”

They sat on the bench outside of the bar, the music echoing from inside. “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Olivia grinned. “I have a brother and a sister. I’m the oldest, Octavia is in the middle, and Oliver is the youngest. We’re all extremely close. Mom and Dad… it’s complicated with them. We had each other growing up, and that was all we needed.”

Ethan wanted to press further about Olivia’s parents, but he decided not to. Judging from the tone of her voice when she brought them up, he knew that probably wasn’t a topic he needed to bring up.

They sat in silence for a few moment, neither one of them saying anything until Olivia spoke up. “I should get back inside. Sienna will send out a search party for me if I’m not back soon.”

Ethan didn’t want her to go. He could sit there all night, but he knew he should get going, too. However, he was going home to Jenner, not back inside the bar. “I should be getting home. I hope your sister has a safe delivery.”

Olivia threw Ethan a smile that lit up the dark around them. The lights from the streets illuminated her complexion, making Ethan even more crazy about her. “Thanks. Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Olivia.”

She lingered for a minute, giving Ethan time to back out of kissing her, before finally standing up and giving him one last smile before starting her way back inside.

He wanted to call out her name, tell her to come back, and express how he really felt, but he didn’t. Instead of kissing her, he was watching her open the doors to Donahue’s as she disappeared inside.

“You are an idiot,” he mumbled to himself.

—

The third time was in his office when Olivia had brought him a muffin at the end of her shift.

“Knock, knock,” Olivia had said when she entered the room.

Ethan looked up from his pile of paperwork to see Olivia looking… not like the usual Olivia.

Her blonde hair had been neatly curled. She wore a long-sleeved, flared out red dress that ended mid-thigh with a pair of wedges and matching red earrings to go along with the outfit. She clutched a red purse in her hand with a muffin in the other.

Ethan knew she must had just gotten ready because he knew for a fact that her hair had been in a low ponytail all day, she had worn her scrubs, and there hadn’t been an ounce of makeup on her last time he had seen her which had only been around two hours again on the fourth floor.

However, he wasn’t denying that she looked stunning.

“I brought you a muffin,” she said as Ethan looked up at her in confusion from his desk. She was awfully cheery.

“Thanks?” He questioned. “Not that I don’t appreciate the muffin, but why did you bring me a muffin, Rookie?”

“One of the oncology nurses, Sarah, made some last night for her son’s bake sale today at school. She brought the leftovers with her and was kind enough to give me two. I ate one. This is the other. I thought you might be a little hungry. I know you’ve been busy today,” she replied.

His heart warmed at Olivia making a point to bring him something to snack on. He had, indeed, been extremely busy. Ethan wasn’t starving, but he was secretly thankful for the blueberry muffin wrapped in a napkin that she sat on his desk.

“I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got to get going,” Olivia said. “I’m supposed to be at dinner at seven thirty.” She glanced down to check the time on her phone.

That got his attention.

“Dinner?”

Olivia stuttered. “Yeah. I, uh, have a date tonight.”

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying anything. He couldn’t help but feel the jealousy running rampantly through him. That explained why she was so dressed up. “Have a nice time.”

If Ethan had been paying attention, he would’ve caught the way Olivia’s face dropped at his nonchalance. He would’ve seen how the whole muffin thing was just an act to come see him. He would’ve seen that she still cared, and she wanted him to care, too.

She rocked back and forth on her wedges. “I will. See you tomorrow?”

Olivia’s hand was on the door knob, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it because she wanted him to know that if he didn’t want her to go, she wouldn’t. If he didn’t want her to move on, then she wouldn’t. All he had to do was say the words.

However, all Ethan said as finally looked back up at her was, “See you tomorrow.”

He noticed how she hovered at the door. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to jump out of his seat and tell her how he felt, yet he couldn’t. Their relationship would cost them both too much.

Ethan couldn’t risk that.

So he let her go out the door as she stopped in the doorway, looking at him a final time. Ethan couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He was completely absorbed in the moment. He didn’t say anything as she finally nodded to herself and shut the door.

He had screwed up.

What he didn’t know was that as soon she got into the parking lot, Olivia called off the date because she, too, was feeling like she had screwed up.

—

It happened a fourth time when Grey’s Anatomy got to Olivia a little too much.

It was a Thursday on the night shift when Ethan was violently pulled into a supply closet by a certain blonde.

“Jesus Christ, Rookie! You can’t just drag people into closets whenever you feel like- what’s wrong?” He immediately asked upon catching a glimpse of her face.

Olivia wore a sad expression on her face. Her hair was up in a bun as she crossed her arms over her light blue scrubs. She was looking everywhere but at Ethan. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have kidnapped you into the closet.

Ethan frowned, trying to read into what was going on. “Did something happen?”

“No,” she mumbled. Then, although Ethan couldn’t quite hear her, Olivia mumbled a few more words.

“What? You’re going to have to speak up.”

She sighed, her face turning red. “I was watching Grey’s Anatomy last night, and there was a shooting episode. I… I sobbed for a good hour after it was over. I just- if something like that ever happens here, then just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

Ethan thought she was joking for a minute, but looking into her eyes and seeing the worry in them, he decided she must have been completely serious. “Of course I would stay safe, Liv. I wouldn’t do anything to-“

Ethan didn’t get to finish his sentence before Olivia pulled him into a big hug. He wrapped his arms around her just as tight. “It’s just a television show. Don’t let it scare you.”

“It’s just different when you’re an actual doctor, y’know? I know a lot of it isn’t like what we do every day, but still. It hits different when this is your life. We don’t ever think that today might be the last day we ever walk into Edenbrook. I just can’t help but to replay that in my head,” Olivia mumbled into his white coat as she gripped it. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever happened to you.”

She pulled back to look at him. Ethan noted she still didn’t look satisfied, so he continued to talk to her. “Don’t put those thoughts into your head. Yes, anything could happen, but we just have to live life as it is and not dwell on that.”

The two suddenly became aware of the close proximity to one another. They were so close that Ethan could spot the tiny freckles that darted along Olivia’s cheeks and nose. Both of their hearts were racing, each feeling dizzy from the other’s presence.

Ethan was so close this time to leaning down and closing the gap. It took everything in him to not give into her. It physically pained him to take back his arms and drop them by his side. It hurt him even more to see the disappointed look on Olivia’s face.

He cleared his throat. “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I should get back to my rounds.”

As Olivia left the supply closet, not looking back once, Ethan couldn’t help but feel like yanking his own hair out.

Once again, he had let his pride become bigger than his feelings.

—

It happened for the fifth time when he found Olivia splurging in vending machine food.

He found her in cafeteria off to the side where no one was sitting at three in the morning. Ethan had to do a double take when he first noticed the hunched over form that held a book in hand with a Hershey bar in the other.

“What exactly are you doing?” He asked her once he got to where she was sitting, eyeing the various snacks in her lap that she had obviously gotten from the vending machine.

She looked up from her book and patted the cushioned seat next to her. He, of course, sat down and looked over at her.

“Reading.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. Olivia always had a tendency to have sassy remarks. “No, what I meant was what are you doing at three in the morning with a bunch of sugary snacks and whatever that is you’re reading.”

Olivia flashed him the cover. “I’m reading The Selection series. I’m on the third book, and I just bought the series a week ago. The sugary snacks are to keep me awake so I don’t fall asleep before I finally finish my shift at seven.”

“What is The Selection?”

“Kind of like a royal version of The Bachelor, but Maxon is far better than any of the bachelors on that show,” Olivia answered, popping a chip into her mouth from the opened bag on the opposite seat of where Ethan was sitting. “America obviously belongs with Maxon. I don’t know why there was ever consideration about Aspen.”

“I have no idea who those people are.”

Olivia and Ethan sat on the uncomfortable chairs in the cafeteria for a good ten minutes as Olivia explained every aspect of the series. She went into depth on the characters, their traits, the storyline, and her own personal opinions.

Ethan found himself even more interested in Olivia as he watched her eyes light up as she discussed the book and ate chocolate. His heart fluttered even more when Olivia announced she had started the series in the first place because of a fourteen-year-old patient that loved it.

Olivia told him how the patient, Jade, was a cancer patient on the pediatrics floor whose favorite hobby was reading. This was her favorite series, and all she did when Olivia came in was talk about it, so Olivia bought the books and had fallen in love with it just like Jade.

She explained that Jade was terrified of the hospital, and she was even more terrified at the fact she had cancer. Olivia was reading the series so that she had something to talk to Jade about to take her mind off of everything going on.

That was the moment Ethan knew she wasn’t going to be great at her job one day like he always thought because she was already an incredible doctor.

“That’s… really good of you, Olivia,” Ethan softly said.

She smiled. “If I can take her mind off the bad stuff for just a minute, it’s worth reading this entire series.”

Ethan noticed a smudge of chocolate stuck to the corner of her mouth. Silently, he cupped his hand around her cheek, his thumb coming down to slowly wipe away the tiny bit of chocolate.

“Sorry. You had chocolate on your mouth,” he mumbled.

Ethan didn’t remove his hand. Instead, it continued to rest on her cheek. Olivia didn’t bother to remove it, the open book still sitting in her lap. He could hear her nervously gulp from where he was at.

She had slowly moved closer on instinct, her hand coming up to rest against his that was on her cheek. They were close again, much like many other times that they both recalled. However, unlike the other times, Ethan was about to give in this time.

He didn’t get the chance to when his pager went off, startling both of the doctors. Ethan didn’t say anything as he stood up, removing his hand from her cheek. He gave her one last look before walking out of the cafeteria on his way to a whole other floor.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before he finally did give in to the blonde doctor that read her patients’ favorite books.

And Ethan wanted to give in.

—

The one time he did give in was when Olivia brought a fruit tray to his apartment.

A thump on his apartment door interrupted Ethan late at night. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, prying them away from his laptop where he was doing research work before he went to the door only to see Olivia standing outside.

He looked at her to see her standing in black, lint-covered leggings, a large sweater, and a whole fruit tray in her hand. Her blonde hair was braided, probably by Sienna, into a side braid that very much suited her.

“What are you doing at my apartment in the middle of the night with a fruit tray?” He questioned her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you if you’ll let me in. It’s November, Ethan. I’m freezing out here.”

He opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in. She took off her shoes at the door before turning to Ethan. “Do you want to share this fruit tray with me?”

Ethan looked at her incredulously. “Olivia, it’s two in the morning. What are you doing with a fruit tray?”

Olivia shrugged. “it’s been sitting in our refrigerator at the apartment, and no one will eat it. I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to share it with me. I don’t like pineapple, and I’m just not crazy about watermelon, so you’re welcome to eat all of those sections. We have to share the grapes, strawberries, and blueberries.”

“Did it occur to you that I might have been asleep?”

“No because you’ve been working on some research. I had a feeling you’d be up working, and I was right.” Olivia sat on the couch, motioning Ethan to come sit next to her.

Jenner sat beside of Olivia, happy to see her to which she sat the fruit tray down on the coffee table in front of her to scratch behind Jenner’s ears and tell him what a “good boy” he was.

Ethan liked the sight in front of him. Olivia on his couch in the middle of the night with Jenner. The fruit tray was something that he hadn’t seen coming, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy her company no matter how many headaches she gave him sometimes.

“So,” Ethan drawled as Olivia held the fruit tray out to him. He grabbed a piece of pineapple and took a bite out of it. “How did your sister do when she had the baby.”

Olivia grinned. “She said she did good, and it didn’t hurt as bad as she thought it would. I’d show you pictures, but I left my phone back at the apartment. She’s precious. I can’t wait to meet her when I go home for Thanksgiving in two weeks.”

Ethan popped a grape into his mouth at the same time as Olivia bit into a strawberry. “That’s good to hear. How did your date go that night? I never got to ask.”

Olivia hesitated to answer, and Ethan clearly noticed her hesitation. He couldn’t help but worry that maybe it had gone great, and Olivia was about to tell him she had met the person she thought she was going to marry or something else extreme.

“I didn’t go,” she admitted, plucking at the strawberry she held in her hand, suddenly becoming very interested in it. “I, uh, called him when I got in the parking lot and told him I didn’t think a date was a good idea.”

“Why did you do that?” Ethan asked even though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“Because he’s a doctor, but he’s not the doctor I want. He’s not the one that lets me into his apartment in the middle of the night with a fruit tray in my hand because I wanted an excuse just to come talk to him. He isn’t the one that listens me to talk about books when I’m on a sugar rush. He isn’t the one who always reassures me.”

Olivia paused for a moment before she said, “He’s a nice guy, but he just isn’t you.”

She took the last bite of her strawberry to try and ease some of the tension. Ethan noticed her eyes looking everywhere except for at him.

With no warning, his hand came around to the back of her neck, pulling her in to finally close the distance in the way he had wanted to for weeks now. Ethan didn’t allow himself to talk him out of doing it. This was Olivia, and she was worth everything.

He could taste the strawberries on her breath as he moved his lips against her, capturing everything Ethan had wanted to tell her for so long. The kiss screamed that he was wrong. The kiss conveyed the message that he wanted her.

Olivia pulled back and smiled. “You taste like grapes.”

Ethan laughed. “You taste like strawberries.”

She suddenly got serious as she intertwined their hands. “What are we doing? Because I don’t want to play games, Ethan. I’m telling you that I want you, but I need you to be upfront with me.”

“I want you, too.”

This time, Olivia pulled him into the kiss, mustering up every ounce of love she held for him and pouring it into the kiss. Ethan reciprocated, letting his worrying mind finally leave him alone for once.

For the first time in weeks, Ethan hadn’t felt like he screwed up.

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fic #ethan ramsey x olivia summers #ethan ramsey #open heart #open heart choices #open heart 2 #open heart fic

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drangues · 3 years

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Five Beasts Anon - yes they absolutely get to hug! Also, this would be absolutely heartbreaking from Atsushi's point of view. Imagine: he's just finished a successful mission with Dazai and Kyouka, and they're walking along the river to go and get chazuke. Atsushi's listening to Dazai tell a joke, when he stiffens, smelling a familiar-but-not scent. For some reason, it reminds him of forests and clear night skies, and cuddling for warmth with his siblings. 1/

He puts it out of his mind. After all, he thinks bitterly, the Headmaster was pretty clear when he said they were dead. He's about to turn back to Dazai, when he hears a choked "Atsushi...?" from behind. He turns around, and feels his breath catch in his lungs. That's- that's Aoi, standing behind him with a face full of shock/hope. And- he's older, with longer hair and more scars than Atsushi remembers, but that's definitely his big brother. 2/

Atsushi is barely aware of Dazai and Kyouka, as he lunges forward to hug his long thought dead big brother. He starts to cry, just as Aoi's arms wrap around him and they both sink to the ground. Atsushi can barely get the words out between his sobs. "I-I don't u-understand, h-h-he tol-ld m-me you were /d-dea-d/". He feels Aoi tilt his head up, and watches him smile despite the tears running down his face. "What a coincidence, he told me the very same thing when I looked for you" 2/

Aoi's heart breaks, watching the surprise of Atsushi's face. "Of course I looked for you, cub. You're our youngest. I searched for everywhere." 3/

It's a reunion full of hugs and tears, until they hear someone cough from behind. "So, Atsushi," Dazai says with a smile, and suspicious eyes trained on Aoi, "would you mind introducing us to your 'friend'?". From behind him, Kyouka has a white-knuckled grip on her sword. Atsushi wipes off his tears and smiles. "Sure, but it might be easier if we go back to the Agency, so I can tell everyone at once. Aoi, are you coming?"4/

"Of course", says Aoi, barring his teeth at Dazai in a way that vaguely resembles a smile (it's hot, but Dazai would rather die than admit that), "I'd love to meet your friends" 5/

I just had a great idea! To me, nothings funnier that 2+ characters forgetting they're married, so let's add that! at some point, A/M/F get utterly wasted, and stumble past a church. And because Natsume-sensei is the one with the braincells, their black-out drunk brains decide "hey, let's get married!". And through a combination of bribery, cajolling, and blackmail, the poor priest is forced to marry them to each-other. 9/

They topple into bed (whether sexy times happen is up to you), and wake up with absolutely no memory of the previous night (i.e, the goddamn marriage). Keep in mind they didn't buy rings (see: blackout dunk + on-the-spot marriage), Ami probably leaves for the orphanage soon after. So they spend the next decade and a bit unaware that they are, in fact, A Thing(tm) 10/

So, time goes by, and A/M/F never find out they're married. And when someone does find out, it's not Mori, it's not, Fukazawa, and it's definitely not Ami. It's Ranpo, who was messing around in the city databses, and stubled across they're marriage certificate. Cue Ranpo barging into the Agency screaming "wHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU WERE MARRIED!" Cue the mass confusion 11/

five beasts: the reason they don't like to stay together too long when they're older is simple - old habits die hard. the longer they're together, the more they forget things change. they keep finding themselves turning for the ghost of their little brother, forgetting he's not there, and it hurts every time. But when Aoi calls the other three in tears, saying he's found Atsushi? you better believe they're in Yokahoma the next day (shapeshifting abilities may have been used) 12/

(im sorry but there are some parts that missed and was never sent i assume?)

GOD WHEN THEY HUGGED AND CRIED I HUGGED MY COMPUTER AND CRIED HOW DARE YOU THAT HURT SO GOOD. and the other three ones just immediately dropping everything to go see atsushi is amazing

also A/M/F getting married is a Yes For Me (sexy times always happen no matter what) AND THEM NEVER KNOWING AGSJKDSHDJKS. imagine you adopt a know it all kid who then suddenly reveals to you that youve been married all along thats hilarious

#anon #ask #ask anon #anon ask #bsd

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baseballbitch116 · 4 years

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Fate

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x reader

Setting: Takes place in the first Narnia movie (not entirely accurate)

Introduction: Peter and his siblings end up in Narnia, where he meets Y/N. He knew that he could not stay here forever, but she made him want to...

Request: So, may I request a Narnia imagine using Peter Pevensie x Female Reader where Peter totally falls for the Reader in a Cinderella type setting? *Feel free to change anything around if you want and make as long as you need to!*

Word Count: 1426

Warnings: Mentions/suggestion of violence & death, angst

A/N: For the sake of realism and this prompt, I changed their ages to better match how old they look/act. In the first movie, Peter was supposed to be 13, which I think is insane, so I’m just saying that he was 16.

Listen to this as you read :) Return of the Lion

Masterlist | Fandoms | Request | Support My Blog | Coming Soon

(gif does not belong to me but the writing does)

The Pevensie siblings had not expected to get sucked into this whirlwind of an adventure when they came to stay with Professor Kirke. Their first night there was nothing extraordinary at all - it was just an old, boring house. Lucy had made up some story about a magical land inside of the wardrobe that was inside one of the empty rooms.

Peter soon came to realize; however, that his sister was not fibbing. When they stumbled backwards out of the wardrobe and into the snow, he was bewildered. This wasn’t possible...

But Peter soon came to realize that there was a lot more possible than he had ever known. They soon became lost in this new world, following Lucy to find her friend, Mr Tomas. They came across the Beaver family, and then Edmund disappeared off in search of The White Witch - whom the Beavers warned was a wicked woman.

Peter’s world was turned upside down, his time in Narnia changing him with each passing moment. Ending up in Aslan’s camp must have been fate - that was the only logical explanation he could come up with. After Edmund was rescued and brought to the camp, Peter was ready to get out of there. He felt empathy for Narnia and wanted to stand by Aslan, but he felt that he had a duty to get his siblings back to safety - home.

When he turned to see who was approaching from Aslan’s tent, he was taken aback by you. He had not seen you around the camp yet - he was sure of it. Between the fact that you were human, and your immense beauty - he would have remembered you. Peter could not help but stare as you exited the tent, Aslan tailing behind you. Susan did not miss the exchange, seeing how you captured her brother’s attention - and the knowing grin that Aslan wore. What did he know?

When you locked eyes with Peter for the first time, you felt the wind knocked out of your lungs. You became blind to the rest of the camp, only able to see this boy staring back you. His blue eyes sparkled, his full pink lips were parted with a surprised expression plastered across his face. You felt the wind blow through your hair as you hesitantly made your way down to stand before him, Aslan following behind you.

You said nothing as you approached the foreigners, unable to tear your eyes from his own. It was like he had you in a spell - you felt drawn to him. Your shy gaze remained on him as you approached them, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you.

“Children, this is Y/N. She is a strong member of our army.” Aslan introduces you. You know the stories of the four of them, although no one has ever met them - you knew their destiny. You forced yourself to gaze over the other three, offering a polite smile and curtsy to your future kings and queens.

“Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy.” Aslan introduces with a solemn voice that would never never grow tiresome to you.

“Our army?” Susan questions, to which you see Aslan nod. Peter has finally removed his gaze from you and focused it on the large lion.

“Sir-” He begins, but stops with a look from Aslan.

“Come,” Aslan beckons, and Peter loyally follows, giving you one last glance before doing so. There was something about him that changed you in that very moment.

“Are you a princess?” Lucy suddenly asks, startling you. Your eyes widen and you can’t contain the grin that spreads across your cheeks.

“No, I’m not! You are, though.” You respond with a smile, brushing your dress back down in place from where the wind was swaying it.

As time passed, you grew closer to the Pevensie’s - Peter in particular. You trained alongside him and his siblings in preparation for the inevitable battle against the White Witch. You were ready to defend Edmund when she came to gather him from the camp. You watched him and Edmund train with their swords, picking up on things here and there. It was one of your favorite things to do - watch him duel. You tried to help him when the wolves came after Lucy and Susan, but Aslan demanded that he do it on his own.

After the battle was won was when you things took a turn in your developing relationship. Lucy had to recover you from a large stab wound you had suffered from one of the Witch’s followers. You were bleeding out on the field, fighting to stay alive long enough for someone to find you. Thankfully the youngest Pevensie sibling did find you, Peter not far behind her. He fell to your side to comfort you as she dripped a single drop of the auburn liquid into your mouth. His hands holding your head in his lap as you felt your strength recover and the wound healing, he looked almost magical as he leaned over you with regret-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters as you regain your strength. He helps you to sit up as Lucy goes off in search of more wounded. Maybe it was your near death experience, or maybe it was just heat of the moment - but you couldn’t contain it any longer. You stared up into his blue eyes before leaning in halfway, maintaining the intense eye contact. You see the expression on his face change as he slowly meets you halfway and presses his soft lips against your’s gently.

The kiss, while short, was magical. The butterflies in your stomach and the tingle in your arms from where his hands held you close were intoxicating. Everything about him felt right. You parted with a shy smile, leaning into his touch as he brushed away a strand of hair from your cheek. “C’mon,” He mumbles with a grin, helping you onto your feet to finish with the aftermath.

After their crowning, the two of you shared a blissful month together. The night of the crowning there was a ball held in their honor and Peter asked you to be his date. When you locked eyes across the dance floor, you felt your heart drop in your chest. The way that he made you feel was not explainable. He made you nervous, excited, happy, scared, anxious and content all at the same time. It all felt crazy to you given how little you had known him - but it was as though he was made for you.

Watching him stride across the room toward you, wearing his crown and Narnian royal attire, was a sight that would forever be embedded into your memory. “May I?” He asked when he reached you, a grin plastered across his rosy cheeks as he offered you his hand. With a tug of your heart pulling you in his direction you placed your smaller hand into his, allowing him to guide you onto the dance floor. You could feel your hot cheeks burning as you began to dance with Peter, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

“You look beautiful.” He mumbles in your ear as he leads you in the dance, one hand holding yours as the other held you close by your waist. Your cheeks are sore from how much you are smiling but you hold onto the moment with all that you have, knowing that it will not last forever.

“Thank you, my King.” You respond with a grin, leaning into his touch. He smirks lightly at the title but says nothing, dipping you gently before returning you to your feet with ease.

Peter knew in that very moment that there was no way he could return home. He had become too attached to you, to Narnia, to his people. So long as his siblings agreed, he had decided that he could not leave.

Unfortunately, it seemed that fate had other ideas. On the same day that he intended to ask you to officially become his girlfriend, he had been out with his siblings. They were messing around in the woods, the place unrecognizable due to the lack of snow. They were messing around, playing a game of keep-away, hiding and chasing one another. Lucy ran off into a bush and the others chased after her, unable to see where they were going in the thickness of it until it was too late. They all tumbled over one another as they fell out onto the floor of the empty room, right out of the wardrobe...

---

| Next >

Let me know if you would like to be added to my Narnia taglist! There will be a second part to this imagine as well ♥

@glitteryathleterebeluniversity @thebeckyjolene

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gotemsayingw0w · 4 years

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Kyoru Week Day 2

If Tohru Sohma was asked to describe her dream life, it would, undoubtedly, be the one she was currently living. The only thing she would ever wish for was that her mother would be here to see it. She was so blessed and she knew never to take anything for granted. Sure, they’d had some tougher times over the years, but everything culminated into the life she had now. She was grateful for those challenges, because they made her appreciate all of the wonderful pieces of life all that much better.

It wasn’t as if their family wasn’t normal. In fact, they were probably painfully normal. Tohru and her husband, Kyo, were rigid in routines and tried to instill the value of work and education in their three children. The five of them ate dinner together nightly. Kyo and Tohru went to every school event and extracurricular activity. On Saturdays, the kids had a ritual of waking mama and papa up early, crawling under the thick blankets on their bed and cuddling with one another even if the bed was too small to fit all five of them.

Tohru was certain she was an overbearing mother. She worried incessantly about their children. She tried not to make a big deal of small things, even when they terrified her. When Hajime, her oldest son, came home after school with a scrape on his knee, she initially panicked about the blood and potential for infection. But later that evening, when Hajime had confided in her that someone on the playground had pushed him, she nearly lost it. She nodded patiently, prompting Hajime to continue his story, all while vivid images of her as a child his age being bullied flashed through her mind. When Hajime concluded the story by telling Tohru that he had pushed the other kid in return, her panic shifted from Hajime being bullied to Hajime getting into fights at school, emulating the tumultuous school years of his father.

Kyo teased her for worrying too much, but he was just as worried as she was. It just so happened that all of his worries remained internal, torturing him from the inside, while her worries sent her talking at the speed of light, all through her tears.

She had been warned that her constant, overbearing worrying could backfire on her one day when her children grew older. She was fully aware, especially after reading book after book about child development when she was first pregnant with Hajime, that as her children neared middle school, she would probably embarrass them. Even so, now, she couldn’t help it. Hajime was nearing that age, but she couldn’t seem to curb those feelings. The intense need to smother him with love was overpowering. He was still her baby boy. She could hardly help it.

She tried, though. She did want him to be independent and have a fulfilling life. She encouraged sleepovers with friends and independence when it came to chores. She didn’t force him to talk about everything that was bothering him, she really tried.

And so, on this particular morning, she decided to roll with the independence for which Hajime had asked her. It was a school morning, which always seemed to be the most stressful part of everyone’s day. Kyo had to work early, which left her to prepare her two sons for the day. Hajime, who had just begun his fifth year in elementary school, was fairly independent. His younger brother, Seiji, who had only just begun his first year, was a mess. He walked out of his shared room this morning wearing his summer uniform, which sent both Hajime and Tohru into a fit of explaining why he couldn’t wear his summer uniform when it was still very much April. Then, of course, Seiji spilled his milk on his freshly changed uniform, which led him to put on his third outfit for the day.

When Tohru asked the boys if they had everything they needed for school, they both nodded. She trusted Hajime’s nod. He’d been attending school for the better part of six years now. He knew exactly what he needed in his school bag. On the other hand, she didn’t trust Seiji at all with that responsibility. Especially because she could plainly see his bento and his folder sitting on the counter where she had left them for him.

Finally, satisfied that everyone’s bags were packed and their bodies appropriately dressed, she announced “Just give me a minute to get your sister and my shoes and we can go.” She turned to do those exact things when Hajime called after her.

“Mom,” he said. “Can we please walk by ourselves this morning?”

It stopped her in her tracks. For one, she had walked them both to school since it had started last week. And she had walked Hajime to school in the years before that. Never, not once, did she consider stopping that trend, especially when they were still in elementary school. But here Hajime was, asking if he could simply walk with just his brother.

He knew the way to school of course. It was the same route he had taken every morning since he first began attending school. She knew he’d be responsible for his younger brother, who didn’t yet know the way and was still too young to walk by himself. It wasn’t Hajime’s responsibility she was questioning.

Hajime pleaded and got his brother to plead as well. He argued that he would hold Seiji’s hand the whole way. She could trust them. And, by the way, she didn’t need to wait for them after school. They’d walk home by themselves as well. She relented, despite her desperation, because he was right. He was old enough. It would be fine.

She stood in the genkan, watching her two auburn-haired boys head off for school, down the street, and around the corner without her. Her heart ached and she was tempted to cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned to get her daughter from her seat in the living room, and started her day.

She worked every day at the dojo with Kyo, often meeting him there after she had dropped the boys off at school. All three of Kyo and Tohru’s children had grown up spending days at the dojo with mom and dad. Kyo taught classes while she worked at the front desk, scheduling and billing clients. With the older of her two children now in school, it was just her and their youngest, Emiko, in the front lobby. Emiko sat and played at Tohru’s feet behind the desk, just as her brothers had. She curled up on the benches by the front window, taking her daily nap in the sun. She charmed the clients, who had gotten to know the young Sohma family over the years.

Tohru left earlier than Kyo each day, often stopping by the grocery store before heading to the school to pick up the boys. They would walk home together and Tohru would prepare dinner while Hajime did his homework at the chabudai table with his siblings playing at her feet in the kitchen. Kyo would join them all in the early evening. The routine repeated daily and she loved every moment of it.

That morning, she went through all of her usual work tasks. She updated the calendar for the day, checked to see if there were any cancellations or substitute teachers needed, listened to the voicemails for the dojo phone, and tallied up payments she had received. Emiko played behind her, paying no mind to the quiet melancholy in her mother’s demeanor.

Kyo joined them in the lobby, as he always did, for lunch and the afternoon lull between classes. He sat on the floor behind her desk absentmindedly playing with Emiko while eating the bento Tohru had brought him from home. Tohru, on the other hand, picked at hers and glanced frequently at the clock. She was vaguely listening to what Kyo was saying about the toddlers class, her absolute favorite group of students.

Kyo gently kicked her calf with his bare foot. “Hello?” He asked. “Earth to Tohru.”

She shook the clouds away from her vision and turned to look him in the eye. “Sorry!” She exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly. “Anyway, you were saying about the little ones…” she prompted him to continue.

Kyo frowned, not taking her bait to continue the conversation. “What’s wrong?” He asked, perceptive as always. “Did something happen?”

The second the words came out of his mouth, Tohru felt hot tears sting the backs of her eyes. They quickly spilled over, racing down her cheeks, and Kyo leapt to his feet, reaching for a box of tissues on the counter.

“Jeez, okay,” He said, handing her one tissue while using another to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting that. You’re not pregnant again, are you?” He joked, though an undercurrent of concern reached her ears.

She smiled and said “No, not that.” She blew her nose and shook her head. “Sorry, we had a...rough morning this morning.”

Kyo propped himself up on the reception desk, facing her. “Did the boys give you a hard time or somethin’?” He asked, genuine concern etching his face. “Or was it this one?” He asked, nudging their daughter with his foot. She pouted up at him, but didn’t respond.

“No, no,” Tohru insisted. “They were fine. It’s just…” She paused, trying to find the words for the emotions she was experiencing. “Hajime called me ‘mom.’”

The confusion was plain on Kyo’s face. “Is that...not what you are?”

“No,” she explained, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, I’m not ‘mom,’” she explained, emphasizing the word mom with a bratty tone. “I’m ‘mama.’”

Kyo said nothing in response, but the corners of his mouth twitched up. He found it funny, of course. Objectively Tohru, too, found it ridiculous, but she couldn’t help the tears. She continued her explanation, sharing about how Hajime had insisted on walking to school without her and how she didn’t need to pick him up anymore. How he could take care of his little brother just fine. They didn’t want her to walk with them. They didn’t need her to walk with them.

When she finally finished the whole, sordid tale, she looked up at his grin and pouted. “It’s not nice to laugh at people when they’re sad.”

Kyo grabbed her hand, still smiling, and said “I promise I’m not laughing at you. Honestly, it’s kind of cute. Hajime talked to me about this exact situation last night.”

Tohru gasped, her jaw nearly hitting the surface of her desk. “He did?” She asked, incredulous. “When?”

“When you were in the bath,” Kyo explained. “He was in the kitchen with me all concerned about if he was allowed to walk to school alone or not.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him ‘of course you can walk to school by yourself,’” Kyo told her. Tohru frowned at him, but he put his hand on hers reassuringly. “He was scared you would be upset with him, so he wanted to ask me first. He said, word for word ‘I just don’t want to make her cry, you know?’”

Tohru’s heart melted at the sentiment. And here she was, crying. Exactly what Hajime had wanted to avoid.

“You know it’s a good thing, right?” Kyo asked, squeezing her fingers in his.

“I know, I just…” Tohru trailed off. “I just want him to stay little. I don’t want him to grow up. I don’t want to be ‘mom.’”

“You called your mom ‘mom,’” Kyo reminded her gently. “And you still loved her, didn’t you?”

“Of course, but…” She couldn’t think of a counterargument.

“And of course Hajime still loves you,” Kyo insisted. “Can you imagine if I had said ‘no, you can’t walk by yourself?’ He would have let you walk him this morning. He loves you so much that he had to make sure it was okay first.” Tohru nodded. “Think how happy he was that you trusted him. He probably loves you even more now.”

Tohru nodded again and rested her head on Kyo’s abdomen. He kissed the top of her head as she let out a deep breath. He was right. It was okay. She supposed she could be ‘mom’ from now on. She would have to accept it eventually.

* * *

Later that night she was preparing dinner as usual. This time, it was only her and Hajime downstairs, the younger two were playing somewhere above her. When Hajime and Seiji came in from school that afternoon, she greeted them and asked how their day was. She did all of the usual things she would do, pretending as if it was a totally normal occurrence for them to walk home from school alone.

Behind her, she heard Hajime gently tapping his mechanical pencil on the surface of the chabudai table. Soft rustling of pages and the brush of an eraser on paper made the soundtrack for her evenings. Hajime quietly groaned.

“You okay?” Tohru asked, walking to the shoji door and leaning gently on its frame.

“I’m fine,” Hajime responded and she nodded, turning to go back into the kitchen. It was only a moment before Hajime spoke again. “Actually, mama, can you help me with this? I have no idea what’s going on in this book.”

Tohru smiled and turned the pot on the stove down to the lowest heat setting. She kneeled next to him and he handed her the book and the questions. As she scanned the page, she recognized the familiar text she had read herself back when she was his age. She grinned at him and began to explain it, all while the phrase ‘mama, can you help me with this?’ echoed in her mind.

Kyo was right; Hajime’s independence was a good thing. But she loved the boy in front of her, who still needed her. The sweet, sweet boy who she always dreamed of before they started their family. One who loved her enough to worry about being too independent and the one who, despite receiving that independence, still needed her help from time to time.

#kyoruweek2020 #@kyoruweekofficial #cross posted on ao3 and ffn #gotemsayingwow #fruits basket

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Follow Every Rainbow ('Til You Find Your Dream), Chapter 7: 16 Going on 17 (Branjie) - Writworm42

A/N: LAST CHAPTER: Vanessa took a risk and set out for her new job as a nanny, only to find out that she’ll be working for Brooke.

THIS CHAPTER: Vanessa definitely bit off more than she can chew with the Hytes family, but she just might be up to the challenge the kids present to her.

I made a few changes to the events of the movie that this chapter is based on, but I hope you all love it nonetheless. And bonus points if you can spot the references I put in! ;)

P.S. the Zackey in the story is Zackey Lime, a Toronto drag king who is legit amazing and I highly recommend you check out ASAP.

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to Holtzmanns for beta-ing this chapter, Ilysm <3 <3

“… And that’s about everything there is to see.” Brooke brought Vanessa back into the foyer from the east hallway, smiling with satisfaction. “Any questions?”

So many, Vanessa thought, but she just shook her head, smiling faintly. They’d just finished a forty-five-minute long tour of the entire house, and Vanessa’s head was still spinning trying to recall all the details and directions, every room and what it was for and how to get in and when not to enter it. It almost made Vanessa feel like she was back at the convent, trying to make sense of the grounds on her very first day there and cataloguing every room and where it was. Chapel, cell, rec room, kitchen, so on.

Here, though, the sheer amount of rooms blew the convent out of the water. oldest girl’s room, middle girls’ rooms, oldest boy’s room, living room, music room, kitchen, first bathroom, second bathroom, guest bathroom, guest rooms, servant quarters, servant kitchen, living room, mud room, dining room….the list went on and on endlessly, and it was dizzying, having to remember all the places and pathways in the house.

And then there were all the rules and routines, which were so numerous it was enough to absolutely shock Vanessa. Don’t knock on the master bedroom past 7 PM. Lights off at 9 PM. Take the children out for a brisk walk around the grounds on a set, groomed and paved path after they’ve woken up and had their uniforms inspected at 6 AM. Drill them in their studies before they go for tutoring, in order to make sure they’re in the right set of mind to pay attention. If the children step out of line, notify Brooke immediately in order for them to be punished. Dine with the family and provide a healthy sandwich lunch to the children at exactly 12 o’clock, but have breakfast during their tutoring hours. Never eat fish or drink coffee, the smells are too unpleasant. The only books the children can read are classic literature and the King James Bible, of which they’re to memorize a verse a day; if they don’t get it right, drill them until they do. Model perfect behaviour, posture, and language at all times. Absolutely no riding in cars; if the children want to go somewhere, they can bicycle with a chaperone. And don’t ever enter the art room unless it’s with Brooke’s supervision, and never take in the youngest.

No, this was worse than the convent. Definitely worse. Still, how could Vanessa say that? Brooke was looking at her with satisfaction and approval, but there was still a note of scrutinizing skepticism in her eyes that Vanessa hated to see. She couldn’t blame Brooke–Vanessa was about to be responsible for her children, after all–but it still hurt, somehow. Maybe because she was used to seeing it; used to not fitting in, used to people deciding she’d mess something up before even giving her a chance to try. It had been that way ever since she was little, after all. This was finally a fresh start–someone who didn’t know her or her reputation. Someone who had been told about how good she was. Someone who was undecided about her, rather than already filled with images of Vanessa’s childhood and youth and many attempts at success that had ended in disaster.

She couldn’t break it. She just couldn’t.

So instead, she changed the subject.

“I know the kids will still be in their lessons for a half hour, may I go and change?”

Brooke turned back to Vanessa taken aback, a faint note of surprise in her eyes, and for a minute, Vanessa doubted the question, wondering if she’d made a mistake. Brooke did want a nun, after all; was changing out of her uniform coming across as being too comfortable too soon?

But then Brooke’s face smoothed over, and though she didn’t smile, she nodded. “Of course. It’s quite respectful of you to want to change into a fresh uniform after being in what I imagine was a very dirty train station and a crammed train all day.”

This time, it was Vanessa’s turn to be surprised at the way Brooke had brushed her off, the logic she’d strained to stretch towards. The expectations she was refusing to yield from, clearly spoken in the message she was sending. And Vanessa would be happy to play along, if it weren’t for one small problem.

“Actually, um…” Vanessa chewed her lip, watching as that surprised look crept back into Brooke’s eyes.

Come on, speak up, don’t make it worse.

“This is the only convent uniform I brought, I thought it’d be better to dress casually other times. You know, so the kids feel easy with me.”

From the look in Brooke’s eyes, it was clear that her kids’ comfort wasn’t on her mind when she had requested a nun come to watch them, and she was more than likely feeling sore about it now. But just like before, the look disappeared almost as fast as it had come, and her face is—well, happy isn’t the word, but calm again.

“Of course. Please, go change.”

Vanessa hightailed it out of there almost as soon as the words were out of Brooke’s mouth, and it was only when she was out of her new boss’s view that her heart started beating again.

It was okay; it would be okay. Maybe it was a shock for Brooke, but surely it wasn’t that big a deal—it wasn’t like she would be fired for wearing a regular dress, right?

As the clocks in the hallway ticked closer to Vanessa’s deadline while she weaved her way in and out, trying to find her room, she suddenly found it hard to be sure.

—

Vanessa hadn’t kept many “regular” clothes at the convent, but she liked to think that the ones she did have were pretty. They weren’t silk or satin, sure, but she’d sewn them herself, and that fact alone made them beautiful in her mind. There was something about the reds and blacks and floral prints she liked to wear that made Vanessa feel special, alive, almost like she was someone else. Not Vanessa the postulant, but Vanessa the dancer in fringe and lace. Vanessa the teacher in rough, stiff linens. Vanessa the girl at the beach in flowing, light cotton, or Vanessa the sleeping beauty in plaid button-up flannel.

It was a strange feeling, but nice at the moment, to be Vanessa the nanny, confident and motivated and ready to meet her tiny new bosses.

When she emerged from her room, though, that confidence dried up when she noticed Brooke looking sour-faced at her, then looked up at the clock.

Oh, fridge. She was two minutes late.

“That’s a… colourful outfit.” Brooke’s eyebrows rose practically to her hairline as she watched Vanessa rush down the stairs to meet her in the foyer, lifting up the yellow skirt of her dress and showing off the convent’s classic white tights in the process of trying not to fall.

“Yellow’s not my favourite, but I didn’t bring much.” Vanessa shrugged. “We, ah, donate most of our clothes to the poor when we enter the convent.”

“You didn’t donate this?” Brooke frowned, and Vanessa felt her face grow hot as she looked down at the ground.

“The poor didn’t really… want it.” she admitted. “Oh, but I made the rest! Before I came, ‘cause I didn’t want to look too stiff, y’know? They’re kids, after all.” It was the truth, and it must have been satisfactory, because even though Brooke didn’t seem impressed by the answer, she didn’t say anything else.

“So…” Vanessa broke the awkward silence that had begun to force its way between them, “Are we going to meet the kids?”

“The children will be right out.” Brooke said matter-of-factly. She turned away from Vanessa and dug in her skirt pocket, striking Vanessa’s curiosity until she saw what the blonde was pulling out.

Brooke blew hard on her whistle, its high-pitched, tinny sound reverberating off the walls before it was followed by the sound of a teenage voice announcing, “ COMPANY, HUP! ”

Vanessa had to fight hard to keep her jaw from dropping as seven children decked out in identical gray uniforms came–no, marched –down the stairs, feet stomping in perfect unison before they lined up by what she assumed was age and stood tall and straight, then gave her and Brooke a quick, proud salute.

Jesus, Mary, and fudging Joseph. She’d become a nanny to a military cult.

“Children, this is your new nanny, Miss Mateo. She was a postulant at the local convent, and she came highly recommended by the reverend mother as someone who will provide you with a good example of traditional Catholic values and behaviour.”

Now that’s a laugh, Vanessa thought, but kept her lip from twitching as Brooke continued.

“Introduce yourselves, please.”

What happened next was no less than terrifying.

Brooke brought the whistle to her lips again and blew one long, particularly high-pitched note, only for a tall, teenage girl to respond by marching a step forward and coming to stand straight and tall, saluting rigidly. She didn’t introduce herself, only stepped back quickly before Brooke blew her whistle again, two short bursts. This time, a muscular boy stepped forward and saluted in the same way as his sister before stepping back.

“Are you–” Vanessa started as the realization of what Brooke was doing sunk in, but she was cut off by another whistle, three long, low tones. A girl who looked around the same age as the boy next to her stomps forward, repeated the movements of her siblings, then stepped back.

“Excuse me, Brooke–”

“Captain Hytes,” Brooke corrected, and before Vanessa could so much as gawk at the sudden coldness, Brooke had turned away and resumed her ritual. Four blows in a long-short-long-short pattern came next, and another boy with a lean, fresh face stepped forward.

“Captain–”

“Please listen to their signals, you’ll need them.” Brooke shook her head sternly, but Vanessa had had enough. This time, when Brooke brought the whistle to her lips, Vanessa snatched it straight from her hand, sliding it into her own pocket before the blonde woman could grab it back.

“I don’t need a signal.” Vanessa protested stubbornly, her heart beating fast despite the firm, even tone she forced her voice to stay in. “I’ll use the kids’ names.”

“No, you won’t,” Brooke challenged, “You’ll use this whistle right here.” she handed a second whistle to Vanessa, who held onto it tightly, squeezing it so hard her knuckles went visibly white. “I won’t have shouting in my house.”

“But you’ll have a shrill, unignorable call that gives your poor nanny and everyone else a headache?” Probably yourself too, maybe that’s why you’re always in such a bad mood , Vanessa thought, but she bit her tongue. In any case, Brooke didn’t argue this time, because she couldn’t—from the way her eyes twitched, she clearly knew that Vanessa had a point.

“Okay, kids.” Vanessa turned back to the line of children before Brooke got a chance to. “Start again, please, but can you tell me your names and ages this time? And for the love of Saint Peter, please don’t do a salute. We ain’t sailors.”

Brooke’s eyes twitched again, and Vanessa had to bite down on her lip just to suppress a smile.

“You heard Miss Mateo,” Brooke directed, “Step forward, names and ages.” she clapped her hands, and the routine began again.

“Monet, sixteen.” The first girl marched forward, her voice clear and confident.

“Landon, fourteen.” The second boy stepped forward next before marching back, not breaking his stride.

“Kameron.” The third girl stepped forward. There was a beat, Brooke opening her mouth to say something, but Vanessa cut her off, putting out an arm to signal for her to hold back.

“No, you’re not.” Vanessa shook her head, but smiled nonetheless. “I see your sister looking all shocked at you. Tell me your real name and age.”

“I’m Kameron,” A red-headed girl, the one who had cast not-Kameron a dirty look, spoke up, “I’m ten. And I like you, you’re smart.”

“So’s your sister.” Vanessa winked, and the first girl blushed.

“Asia, thirteen.” She muttered, and Vanessa was almost glad that in her embarrassment, Asia didn’t march.

“Zackey, eleven.” A fresh-faced boy stepped forward next, resuming the marching orders.

“You already know me.” Kameron shrugged, and this time, Brooke only sighed, a little bit defeated.

“Crystal.” A small girl with curly hair stepped forward next, “I’ll be seven on Tuesday.”

There was another pause before Crystal nudged the last girl in line, a small, shy little girl who held a frog in her hands.

“I’m Plastique, I’m five, and this is Bertha.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” Vanessa smiled. “I’m Vanessa.”

The children looked at her, surprised, and Vanessa’s heart sank as she realized they’d probably never had an adult invite them to use their first name before.

“Yes, well, now that the introductions are finished, I have work to do.” Brooke nodded curtly, the tension breaking in the room as she began to walk away. But before she could disappear out of sight, a high-pitched whistle caused her to jump.

“You haven’t shown me your signal yet, Captain .” Vanessa batted her eyelashes innocently as Brooke whipped around angrily to glare at her. The blonde reddened, but ignored the bait, instead turning right back around and continuing to retreat from the hall.

It was incredibly satisfying to note that Brooke couldn’t hide the furious stomp with which she traveled as she went.

“Alright, see y’all later.” Vanessa shrugged, “I think it’s leisure time for you anyway.”

“You’re not going to lead an activity?” Kameron frowned, but Vanessa just shook her head.

“Nah. You guys can go play.”

It hurt Vanessa’s heart to see how the children hesitated, but they marched away at last, and Vanessa was left alone to think about what she’d gotten herself into.

–

The first place Vanessa went after seeing the children off was the bathroom. She let the water in the sink run until it was freezing, the cold stream making her fingers red the minute it hit her skin. But she could barely feel it; could barely feel anything. It wasn’t until she’d bent down and splashed the water in her face, gasped for air and wiped the droplets from her eyes, that she truly grasped what she was dealing with, why she had been sent here.

She was in Hell; she was in a nightmare. A place where no one like her was supposed to be able to thrive. Probably could survive. And Nina had known Brooke for ages–she probably knew her parenting style. So why would she send Vanessa all people to live with seven little soldiers and their cold, overly-strict, barely-motherly mother?

She was out of her depth, completely in over her head. These kids were nothing like she had been when she was growing up; Hell, they weren’t like any kids Vanessa had ever met in her entire life. They weren’t kids at all; just tin sailors, robots following their mother’s commands.

She closed her eyes, leaned against the sink and breathed in deeply. No; she couldn’t get this overwhelmed this fast. She had to think about her surroundings, break it down and tackle it like Nina and that man on the train and said she was capable of doing. There was hope; the mischief in Kam and Asia’s shenanigans. Plastique holding Bertha and forgetting to step back. Crystal announcing when her birthday was. The small chuckle she could swear she had heard from Landon when she’d sassed back at Brooke. The way the children walked hesitantly, but quickly out of the foyer when she’d told them to go play, as if they couldn’t wait but were afraid she’d take it back.

She opened her eyes, stared herself straight in the face, watched as a glimmer of determination grew in her reflection’s eyes. She could do this; she had to do this, whether Brooke liked her or not.

She opened the bathroom door and charged towards her room, ready to spend some time there in quiet thought, maybe get changed into something a little nicer for dinner. Maybe dance like no one was watching, just like she used to in her cell at the convent on days she needed to loosen up.

She stopped dead in her tracks, though, when she saw the door to her room.

“Shhh!” she heard giggles from around the corner, but refused to acknowledge them; she didn’t look at all, didn’t change her face from the passive, relaxed smile that had been on it before. In fact, she didn’t blink at all. Only opened the door and walked into the room, bypassing the large, dripping bright-red pentagram painted on her door.

–

“ ALL OF YOU OUT HERE, NOW!”

Vanessa hurried out of her room with a pounding heart, her breath already catching in her throat. As soon as she swung open the door, though, she was met with a furious, red-faced Brooke, who she could tell was foaming at the mouth to yell at someone for what she had found on the door.

“Who drew this?” Brooke hissed as the children rushed out of their room, lining up by age and standing at attention. But barely a second passed before the fear in the children’s wide eyes turned to shock, then to relief.

“I did.” Vanessa looked back at the red rose she’d painted the door over with, courtesy of the paints the butler, Mr Lurchenstein, had lent her ( “your methods certainly are unorthodox, Miss Mateo, but sure, take what you need.” ). The pentagram was completely hidden behind the flower’s red hue, the black lines outlining its petals taking care of any stray marks or drips she hadn’t been able to cover up. “I wanted to make a mark so that the children could remember where to find me.”

“You couldn’t put up a temporary sign?” Brooke snarled, but Vanessa refused to crack, only shook her head as she turned back to look at the lined-up little devils still staring at her in surprise.

“It wouldn’t speak to who I am as well as this would. Especially since a permanent reminder certainly couldn’t help.” Vanessa winked, and thank God Brooke was still so distracted being angry at her, because the way Landon and Crystal especially crumpled at the words would have been a dead giveaway otherwise.

“This isn’t your property!” Brooke spat, “You can’t just ruin things because you want to express yourself! I won’t–I can’t– Miss Mateo, you will fix this right now, or I swear to the Lord–”

“Captain!” Vanessa gasped, cutting the blonde off at the pass as she feigned shock, “Please don’t tell me that a good Catholic such as yourself is taking the good Lord’s name in vain? After you’ve chastised your children for not following the holy example our Saviour has set for us?”

“I–Well–” Brooke sputtered, deflating a bit, her tone lowering as she realized what she’d just said, what she’d been called out on. Once again, Vanessa had caught Brooke in her own trap, and once again, she couldn’t escape.

“Now, I understand that this is your door, and I’ve done a disrespectful thing by painting it,” Vanessa acquiesced, “But I really do think that becoming this enraged is teaching an unholy reverence of property that a Catholic certainly shouldn’t be espos–expos–trying to model to her children. After all, it’s not exactly unsightly, is it?”

“No, it’s pretty!” Zackey cut in, trembling a bit when Vanessa and Brooke turned to look at him in surprise.

“Me too.” Monet nodded eagerly, “It really does say exactly who Vanessa is.”

“Completely!” Landon and Asia agreed in unison. “And you know how much mama loved–”

“That’s enough.” Brooke’s face stoned over again quickly, the ride from anger to defeat to some unreadable expression practically giving Vanessa whiplash. She kept her observation quiet, though; from the way Brooke’s eyes had taken up yet another wall of defensiveness, Vanessa could tell that she didn’t want anyone to notice, or at least, to say that they had.

“Alright, Miss Mateo,” Brooke sighed, turning back to Vanessa, “Have it your way. The painting can stay. But before you do any other… modifications , you will come to me for approval first, do you understand?”

“Absolutely.” Vanessa smiled, and Brooke only nodded before turning on her heels and stomping away, leaving Vanessa and the others to breathe out a sigh of relief. The temporary peace erupted as quickly as it came, though, when the kids looked back up at Vanessa, their eyes narrowing.

“Just because you covered for us doesn’t mean we like you.” Asia warned, but Vanessa just shrugged.

“I didn’t say it did.”

–

After another brief stare-down, Vanessa led the children into the kitchen for their mid-afternoon snack, peeking into the fridge to see what the cook had left and immediately recoiling.

Raw broccoli. Yuck .

“Y’all want something other than these dry little trees?” Vanessa dangled one of the stalks from her fingers, wrinkling her face, and was relieved when a couple of the children laughed, all of them nodding eagerly. It was a little glimmer of hope amidst everything, seeing how they had reacted; the fastest way to the heart was through the stomach, after all. Maybe she was finally earning some brownie points with her seven little monsters.

Then she noticed the way the kids were looking at each other, and that hope dried right back up.

“Can we have peanut butter and jelly?” Plastique clapped her hands eagerly, bouncing a little in her seat. “That’s our absolute favourite, but mother–”

“Which one of you is allergic?” Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest, and Plastique’s bouncing stopped dead in its tracks as her siblings’ jaws dropped open.

“I was a kid too, once.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I know all the tricks in the book.”

“It’s me.” Kam sniffed, her eyes cast down at the floor. “I’m the allergic one, so mother doesn’t let us have it.”

“Mhm.” Vanessa nodded, though she couldn’t help the smile that curled at the corners of her mouth. “So we not gonna do that, then. Any other suggestions?”

The children were silent, but Vanessa didn’t expect them to say anything, anyway; imagination was hard when people tried to stamp it out of you, she knew that. No matter; she already had an idea forming in her head.

–

“ Why does this house smell like–”

“It’s broccoli.” Vanessa shrugged as Brooke stormed into the room, her nostrils flaring. “You did say the kids should have broccoli.”

“Yes, but not–”

“It was in the fridge.” Vanessa popped another cheese-coated stalk in her mouth, grinning when Brooke’s face took on a stricken look, as if Vanessa had just hit her in the face with a block of cheese. Which, in a way, she supposed she had.

“I said no pungent foods –”

“It was in the fridge.” Vanessa repeated, “I assumed that it would have passed your inspection if it was?”

“Well, yes, but–”

“The Lord doesn’t approve of hypocrisy, Captain, and eating cheese that your children are not allowed to indulge in really wouldn’t fall in the category of fairness, would it?”

Brooke took a deep inhale, pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed out impatiently. “No, it doesn’t. I’ll throw the rest of it out.”

“No need to.” Vanessa shook her head. “It’s already all finished, and now I’ll spray some freshener and the children can brush their teeth. Problem solved.”

Brooke could only stare in shock as Vanessa stood up and waved for the children to follow, all of them looking like deer in headlights as they walked past their speechless mother out into the hallway.

“Okay, that was cool, but it doesn’t mean we want you here.” Monet huffed under her breath, but Vanessa wasn’t bothered; she understood, after all, so why would she have tried to tell the kids not to feel upset that yet another nanny had arrived to put even more distance between themselves and their mother?

“I wouldn’t want me here, either.” Vanessa threw up her hands in mock-surrender, “But here I am.”

She didn’t bother looking back as she flounced off to the servants’ quarters, ready to get a full list of the children’s allergies and intolerances from the cook.

–

Dinner in the Hytes household was at nineteen-hundred hours sharp. Brooke had made that very clear during her tour, and though throughout the day, her brood of goblins made a strong effort to confuse Vanessa by saying that it was at five o’clock, six o’clock, seven thirty, Vanessa had made sure to double-check with the other staff that nineteen-hundred was correct. So sure, in fact, that she had written it on her arm in thick permanent marker.

There was just one problem–Vanessa had no idea when nineteen-hundred hours actually was , and she certainly wasn’t about to ask the demon squad for clarification. So instead, she tried to remember the twenty-four hour clock lessons from the seventh grade, wracking her brain to remember the trick she was taught, whether it was to subtract ten, eleven, or twelve hours. And then there was the matter of actually doing that math herself…

“You’re still here?”

Vanessa looked up from her book to see Lurchenstein standing in the doorway of the servants’ quarters kitchen, looking aghast. Looking up at the clock, it blinked 6:55 PM, and suddenly, she realized her mistake.

“Nineteen-hundred hours isn’t eight?” she kept her voice calm despite the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks. She already knew the answer–if dinner was at eight, then the butler’s shock wouldn’t have been reasonable. But if it was at seven…

“And your dress is covered in paint, too…” Lurchenstein groaned, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “You need to change, quickly! If you’re even a minute late, the captain…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence; Vanessa was already booking it through the house in a frantic attempt to get to her room, praying to God she wouldn’t get lost on the way.

She arrived in the dining room at 7:05 PM, panting and gasping as she stared at a sea of very pleased faces and one enraged one. Brooke’s expression was so grim, her lips pursed together in such a thin, resolute line that Vanessa thought the captain might implode. She needed to say something, and needed to do it fast.

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa admitted breathlessly, her heart seizing as she spoke, “It’s my fault. I haven’t used the twenty-four hour clock in a very long time, and miscalculated. If it weren’t for Mr Lurchenstein, I would have missed it entirely. I should have double-checked, and that’s on me.”

It was strange–instead of making a snippy comment or taking her to task, Brooke relaxed a little.

“I’m sorry for assuming you knew.” Brooke shook her head. “Thank you for being accountable. I don’t tolerate much imperfection, but not knowing isn’t quite the same…”

So the captain did have a heart. Thank God.

“It’s subtracting twelve.” Vanessa was unable to suppress a little smile as she began to take her seat, her heartbeat evening out and relief washing through her body. “I got it n– Oh! ”

She rocketed back up as her rear hit something soft, springy, something that jumped right back at her.

“Miss Mateo?” Brooke shot her a questioning look, but Vanessa hardly heard her; she was too busy glancing out of the corner of her eye, watching as something fat and green bounced away…

“Rheumatism.” Vanessa coughed, taking her seat.

“Right.” Brooke looked doubtful, but said nothing else. A double blessing.

“So, shall I say grace?” Vanessa changed the subject before anything else could be said, before the rude brood had a chance to call Vanessa out on her lie–not that they would, really, because what could they say that wouldn’t give them away? In fact, Plastique and Crystal were already shrinking back a little, looking awfully guilty…

“Yes, please do.” Brooke confirmed, and as if on signal, every member of the Hytes family made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads in such perfect unison that for some reason, it once again took Vanessa by surprise. Still, the alarm quickly dried up, because even though she’d been at the house for only nine hours, she already knew that if she expected anything less than this, it was her fault. She’d made her bed, that was for sure.

But that didn’t mean she had to lie in it, not necessarily. Not without a fight.

“Actually, before we pray, I thought I’d say something.”

Immediately, every child’s head snapped up, their faces seized with terror. It was pretty satisfying, Vanessa had to admit, and it was tempting not to play to their fears, to snitch or to pretend she was going to. But that wouldn’t get her anywhere, she already knew that. She had to catch these flies with honey, or she could expect something much worse than a frog on her chair next time.

“I wanted to thank all of you for making me feel so welcome here. All those precious games we played and gifts you gave me, knowing how scared and worried I must be, coming into a new place all on my own. How important it was for me to feel accepted and welcome—really, you guys have made me feel at home, and I can’t thank you enough. Now, shall we pray?”

Unfortunately, they never got to grace–because the kids had started sniffling, and then broken into tears.

“Don’t worry,” Vanessa shook her head at Brooke, who was looking around the table in confusion. “They’re just happy.”

They ate the rest of their dinner in relative silence, but towards the end, Vanessa couldn’t help but notice that the dirty looks from the kids had ceased, and every request to pass the salt or for more mashed potatoes was accompanied by a shy smile and a please . And when they finally filed out of the dining room, children first and adults following after, Brooke’s eyes didn’t carry quite the hard, furious look that Vanessa had gotten used to seeing in them.

It was about an hour later, though, that Vanessa really knew that things were turning around in her favour. Vanessa had finished her prayers, finished laying staring at the ceiling without much but passing, overlapping thoughts rushing through her head, and had decided it was time to tuck in for the night. Even if it was only around nine o’clock, she was used to early bedtimes at the convent, and from the schedule Brooke had laid out, it seemed like this house would be no different. The house was already silent, too, everyone else having gone to bed and either fallen asleep or having been smart enough to keep their late-night shenanigans very quiet.

Everyone, apparently, except for the oldest Hytes daughter, who Vanessa could see and hear out of the corner of her window scaling the wall to climb down and meet a very strapping young woman in a military uniform waiting for her on the ground below.

Oh, this was too good not to listen in on.

“Are you sure your mom–”

“I’m sixteen, going on seventeen in a month,” Monet hissed, “And you’re almost eighteen, which means you’re basically an adult. I don’t care if she treats me like a kid. Mama never used to. So mother can grow up and realize I can take care of myself.”

Vanessa had to resist letting out a snort at that, but held back, moving a little closer to the window so she could hear better.

“I don’t like sneaking around–”

“Once you’re nineteen and I’m eighteen, we won’t have to. Anyway, I have this new nanny, she’s…she’s not like the others. She’s actually kind of…well, she’s pretty chill, not like mother at all. As long as she’s around, mother won’t assume I’m up to anything bad, and if she catches us, it’ll be Vanessa’s fault.”

Oh, Hell no. Vanessa had half a mind to call out, pop her head out the window to let Monet and this other kid know who they were dealing with. But before she could, something stopped her–a tiny voice, sweet and scared, one that she wasn’t used to hearing from Monet.

“I–I love you, Monique. I wanna be with you. And I know mother would approve of you, just…you’re in the military, and…you know how that’s a sore thing here. It’s too complicated. So if we have to sneak around for now…”

“I get it.” Monique sighs. “Well, at the very least, can we stay on the property? Your garden’s so big and so nice, and it’s a lot safer than going around at night. We can still spend time together, and I’ll be gone before your mom wakes up.”

Vanessa sighed out, her heart growing warm at the confession, at how responsibly and gently this Monique had responded. It was cute, how vulnerable Monet was being, how Monique was so willing to meet her halfway. Heck, when Vanessa was that age, she certainly wasn’t that thoughtful, and definitely not nearly as careful of her parents or what other people thought as these two. She had always believed in kicking her way across boundaries, not tip-toeing around them, on making messes if she had to, not planning things out to avoid them.

Maybe, just maybe, the kids would be alright after all.

“ Shit .”

Vanessa’s head snapped up at Monique’s voice, the teen’s tone suddenly changing from gentle to fearful.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Vanessa had left her window open, and the two love-birds had spotted her.

“Shit, is that your mom’s–”

“No, just the nanny. Maybe she’s asleep–”

Vanessa had two options. Pretend to be asleep, never mention it, keep Monet feeling like her secret was safe.

Or, she could pop her head out, flash a thumbs up or something, let Monet and Monique know that she was on their side.

Fridge it–she might as well take a chance and do the latter.

“I won’t tell.” Vanessa whispered, popping her head out just enough so that the girls could see her, hopefully hear her enough to put their minds at ease. From the way their eyes became wide as saucers, she guessed they could.

“Seriously,” Vanessa crossed over her heart, making a crucifix, because that was how serious she was, how badly she wanted them to know she was telling the truth. “You seem like a lovely girl, Monique. Just…be careful, and don’t leave the property.”

The two teens didn’t waste any time–they scrambled away, huffing and hurrying and knotting their hands together. Good; they trusted her.

Vanessa was about to close her window, go to bed for real, when the scuff of footsteps running back under her brought her back to look outside again.

“Um,” Monet looked at her feet, chewing her lip and shifting from foot to foot. “I just wanted to say–Thanks. And, um…I like you. You’re cool. And I’m gonna tell the others to stop messing with you, ‘cause…I think I want you to stay.”

Vanessa felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart soaring as a grin spread over her face.

Monet wanted her to stay. She was going to stay. Finally, finally, she’d done something right.

“Don’t worry about it.” Vanessa shook her head, forcing a relieved breath out with the words. “I want to stay, too.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #monet x change #monique heart #branjie #musical theatre au #lesbian au #follow every rainbow #writworm42

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1-1snailxd-art · 4 years

Note

Caretaker Prompts 19 and 15 with angst. May I suggest in a Hunger Games setting or the like?

15 “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

19 “Just keep pressure on it.”

I know you said Hunger Games, but because my brain is like a revolving door I couldn’t get anything that was really flowing well with that (I’m not big into Hunger Games. I’ve only read and seen the first one).

So, I went for a Supernatural style universe with Vampires and Werewolves that I kinda came up with ages ago.

Relationships/Character: There’s no romance here - Deceit/Declan (Father figure/Alpha - Born from magic and connected to a snake spirit), Roman and Remus are 17-year-old twin pure-blood werewolves (parents were both wolves rather than being turned, giving them enhanced senses, strength and healing), Virgil is a 3-year-old pure-blooded Vampire (parents were both vampires), and Logan is a 17-year-old human 😝

Warnings: Blood mentioned, panic, vomit mentioned

Words: 2333

Summary: Babysitting was meant to be an easy way for Logan to earn money, but turned deadly when vampires came to hunt the child in his care. Supernatural beings or not, Logan was willing to risk his life for the boy and show he was stronger with nothing but human blood in his veins.

_________________________

“Just keep pressure on it.” Remus instructed, shifting aside for Roman to take his place. “I’m going to clear the perimeter.”

“Be careful.”

His twin nodded and hurried down the stairs, leaving Roman alone with a bleeding and grunting Logan.

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry. This wasn’t meant to happen.”

Roman felt horrible listening to the other boy cry out in agony as he adjusted his position to control the bleeding from his stomach.

“He gonna die, Ro? Did I- Did I did it?”

His three-year-old brother shuffled out of the bedroom, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the splatter of blood that coated his face and ninja turtle pyjamas.

“No, buddy. You didn’t do this okay. Just go back in the room and wait.”

“But tha teef.”

Sighing, Roman glanced from the stab wound in Logan’s stomach to the mess that was his shoulder. Fangs had sliced through flesh with the ease akin to a hot knife through butter but was thankfully clear of his face so Roman didn’t need to worry that he had been turned. The vampires who attacked the house were out to kill, not turn or feed, and Virgil’s mouth was too small to do that much damage even if he was rampaging.

“They’re not your teeth, Vee. I promise you; you didn’t hurt the babysitter.”

“Logan.” Virgil said firmly, tears falling faster as he got more worked up. “His name’s, Logan.”

Watching his brother cry was heartbreaking for the older sibling and he had to fight the urge to scoop him up and away in the safety of his embrace, but he knew he couldn’t. Virgil’s eyes were glued to Logan, tiny chest heaving with hiccupped sobs and worsening every time the injured man made a sound.

“Virge, buddy, you need to get back in the room.” Roman was desperate for Remus to return, or even their father for that matter, just so someone could help Virgil before he had another vampire to deal with. “I promise I will help Logan, but I need you safe first.”

The small nod as Virgil shuffled back should have offered some reassurance but Roman’s senses peaked; his inner wolf smelling a change in his little brother’s system.

Turning towards the stairs, he focused on working out how far away Remus was.

"Roman?“ The toddlers voice shook just as his body trembled; eyes growing in realisation and the brown of his left iris faded to grey.

“Virgil, in the room, now!”

He hated to yell but his tone was harsh enough to shake Virgil into action, scurrying into the room and slamming the door shut.

“We’ve gotta move, Logan. I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Just get it over with.” Logan huffed, gritting his teeth as pain exploded through his body when Roman tried to lift him up.

A growl rumbled deep in Roman’s throat when he rose, thankful Logan had remained conscious enough to hook his usable arm around his neck and make the carry at least a little easier. Normally lifting someone Logan’s size would be easy, but after fighting off a whole vampire nest he was almost spent. Kicking the front door open, Roman rushed to his cars back door, thankful it was still open from when he and Remus had arrived at the house.

"Roman!“ Remus called out and ran over to the car as his twin slid into the driver’s seat. “Perimeters clear but I think one sucker got away.”

“We’ll deal with that and Dad later. Vee is turning.”

“What? I thought you told the babysitter to give him his meds?”

“I did.” Came the grunted reply from the backseat and the twins exchanged a worried look.

“He’s getting worse than.” Starting the car, Roman shifted into reverse and gave Remus a concerned look. “Be careful, Duke.”

“Same to you, Princey.”

Carefully heading back into the house, Remus paused to sift through the heavy vampire scent that hung in the air until he located Virgil’s; surprised to find it still concentrated at the top of the stairs. Slipping into the kitchen, Remus collected a plastic bottle from the fridge that contained a mix of herbs, animal blood and milk. To anyone else, the combination was vile, and the smell alone tormented the twins sensitive noses, but it was the best thing in the world to Virgil.

At the top of the stairs, Remus braced himself for his adopted brother to jump out and attack him, but nothing happened. He could hear the toddler breathing from the other side of the door, but they weren’t moving at all; vastly different to the other times he had shifted.

“Virgil? You okay, little buddy?”

The door creaked as Remus pushed it open, spotting the toddler shivering on the bed next to a puddle of vomit. Holding his arms up in surrender, Remus eyed him carefully as he stepped into the room.

“It’s okay. Dukey isn’t going to hurt you, alright? I’m just here to help.”

“Go -way.” Remus froze in shock that Virgil had managed to speak, spotting the rows of sharp teeth that now protruded from his gums. “I hurt you.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will.”

“I will.” Virgil insisted, pushing himself back against the headboard to stay away from his brother. “I kill.”

“Virgil, you won’t hurt me.” Sitting at the edge of the bed, Remus kept his voice level and calm; though he was ready to defend if Virgil suddenly turned on him.

“How ju know? I done’d it b-fore.”

“I know because every other time you’ve turned, you have attacked on instinct. Right now, you’re talking, Virgil. You’re in control of your instincts right now and I’m part of your nest. You’re in my pack and I’m part of your nest; we won’t hurt each other, I promise.”

Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room for a few moments, then the toddlers face shifted from fear to sadness. Not wanting to make a move in case he triggered an instinctual attack, Remus watched and waited until Virgil crawled towards him on his own.

“It hurts, Dukey.”

“It’s okay.” Opening his arms, Virgil gratefully climbed onto his lap and accepted the comforting embrace. “The pain will dull when you’ve fed. I’ve got your drink right here and there is more if you need it, okay?”

“k.”

Shifting around so he was comfortable, Virgil accepted the bottle and started to drink; though he was soon unscrewing the lid when the plastic pop top limited the pace he desperately wanted to consume the liquid at.

“Are you feeling better or do you need more?”

“My no-sh-e -till hurt.” Virgil complained, wrinkling his nose further when he took a breath in.

“That would be from all the blood scents around here. You’re not as use to having to filter it out as Roman and I.”

Remus looked around the room at the blood splatter from Logan’s impromptu battle, genuinely impressed that a normal human could have fended off so many vampires while protecting the toddler they were after.

“Why don’t we get cleaned up, grab you another drink and take Logan’s car for a drive until your fangs retract?”

“Ok, but what -bout Dad?” Virgil wrapped his arms and legs around Remus when he stood and watched him carefully step around the headless vampires in the hall to reach the bathroom.

“Dad will find us, don’t you worry about that.”

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

Logan loss consciousness some time during the drive but was thankfully still breathing when Roman sped up to the hospital and cried out for help; struggling to pull him out of the car now he was completely deadweight. Following what seemed like a million questions and 20 minutes of a nurse fussing over his own cuts, Roman was finally left to his own devices in the waiting area; giving up trying to call his Dad after leaving his 15th voice message.

He was hanging upside down on the chair when Remus came in; a sleepy Virgil on his hip.

“I thought you two would have found a park to hang out in, since the sun is finally up.”

“That was my plan,” Remus admitted, glad to feel his little brothers breathing even out as he fell asleep; “but the little nightmare wouldn’t stop nagging me to come. I would’ve preferred getting my ears boxed than listen to it for another hour, and now we’re here, he falls asleep.”

Sitting up properly, Roman laughed and held out his arms so Remus could manoeuvre the youngest into his arms.

“Better asleep than freaking out on us.”

“Nah, I said he was fine.” Sitting on the chair opposite, Remus pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his notifications. “Fangs retracted after 15minutes and he was satisfied with two doses. Considering I was expecting to have him hanging from my neck like last time, it was a welcomed surprise.”

“You think telling Dad that will stop him from killing us for leaving Virgil with a human.”

“Only if we also leave out the fact that a vamp nest attacked the house.”

Exchanging a glance, the twins groaned and spoke in time.

“We’re dead.”

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

The sun had set when Declan arrived at the hospital, half furious after hearing the twins messages and half worried out of his mind. He double checked his concealment charm was still effectively hiding his scaled side before entering the building, shaking off his damp trench coat once he was walking the warm halls.

Four days prior he’d left the boys at a secluded Airbnb to follow a promising lead on Virgil’s birth parent, assuming the hostile vampire nest tracking the pure-blooded toddler wouldn’t pick up their trail for at least a few more days. Returning to the trashed house made his blood run cold, though it quickly reheated hearing the twins had left their adopted brother to investigate a reported werewolf pack. Of course, it had been a trick, false reports given to encourage them out of hiding; Declan could’ve seen it a mile away and he regretted his radio silence even more now.

As he neared the room assigned to some boy attacked in the woods, Declan was prepared to reprimand the twins in the harshest way possible. Each step brought him closer to grabbing Virgil and storming off, but when he reached the door, he found himself frozen. He saw Remus passed out on a hospital bed, looking just as exhausted as his twin in the bedside chair despite both of them clearly being in a deep sleep. Resting a hand on the door, Declan could feel the warding they had obviously put on it to protect the room; something that would have exhausted them without his assistance.

It was Virgil’s position that intrigued him the most. The toddler was perched carefully alongside the boy on the furthest bed, looking more peaceful than he had since his vampiric blood started taking affect.

“Excuse me,” a nurse called from the door over, “can I help you with anything, sir?”

“I’m the boys’ father, well, to three of them anyway. I’m Declan Fidi.” He held out a black gloved hand which the woman shook with a smile.

“You have some brave and lucky boys Mr Fidi. The whole staff agree that the twins quick thinking saved Logan’s life. Did you train them in first aid?”

“I wouldn’t have let them go out into that forest if I hadn’t.” Turning back to the viewing window a thought came to mind. “The boy - um - Logan, are his family around? I would like to have a word before I take my troupe away.”

“I’m sorry, but Logan doesn’t have family. He’s part of the local group home.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for your help anyway. I should probably get these boys to a proper bed and out of your hair.”

“Oh, they’ve been no trouble at all. Logan will be here for a few days at least, so feel free to bring the boys back if you like. I’m sure their visits will be welcomed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Pushing the door open, Roman and Remus bolted awake instantly at the call of their warding; heads dropping in shame when they registered their father had entered.

“I’ll spare you two the lecture on your stupidity for later.”

“Yes, sir.” They said in unison, standing and stretching their tired muscles.

Declan moved to Logan’s bed and carefully picked Virgil up, the toddler whimpering as his sleep was disturbed.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He assured, rubbing Virgil’s back while he settled into his shoulder. “You’re alright.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, buddy. We’re going somewhere safe to sleep, okay.”

Leaning back, Virgil looked into his father’s eyes, tears lining his own.

“But Logan -“

“We’ll come back tomorrow.”

Declan pulled Virgil’s purple hood over his head and encouraged him to lean on his shoulder again, nodding for the twins to head out the door before he followed.

They walked in silence back to the car park, Declan telling the twins to get in his van rather than taking the second car.

“You can work on cleaning it when we come back tomorrow.”

“Wait, you were serious about coming back?” Roman questioned, helping to buckle Virgil into his car seat.

“We’re not ditching town straight away?” Remus added.

“No. Roman’s got a car to clean, you’ve got a house to clean up, and I’ve got to see about adding to Virgil’s nest.”

The twins jaws dropped and watched Declan casually climb into the front seat in shock.

“You would let Logan join our pack?”

“Even though he’s a human?”

“A human wouldn’t have taken down three vamps alone. He’s not a human,” Declan chuckled at the thought of how shocked the vampires would have been. “He’s a hunter and a lost soul; just what our family needs.”

_____________________________

End Note: Smol Vampire Virgil had to happen. Don’t tell me you never thought about it. This was a universe I made months ago. I had a whole back story planned out. Maybe one day I’ll write it, or do art for it or just make it an ask AU or something. Honestly, I have too many ideas some times but just not enough brains and concentration to write it all.

Prompt from this list.

More writing from the Caretaker Prompt ListWriting master post

General tag list (let me know if you want on or off): @thequeensphinx @ollyollyoxinfree @celeste-tyrrell @pumpkinminette @ahyeahisurehopeit-does

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pandoraimperatrix · 4 years

Text

Baby Picture

1,5w | Family fic | BatCat + Damian | Read on AO3

‘Kyle, she will fall!’

His panicked tone made Selina want to smile, but she didn’t. She knew Damian took himself far too seriously, and he liked to be treated as such. It had been so hard to convince him to get this close to Helena, he had only done it now that they were alone, only the three of them. He was especially skittish when Bruce was in the room. She had her suspicions of the reasons the young boy looked so uncomfortable those times, but she tried to give father and son time to solve whatever tension they had by themselves.

‘She won’t. You won’t let her fall, see? You just have to support the head with you elbow and the rest of your arm will be in place.’

‘I…’ he started but didn’t finish. Selina arranged the baby in his arms.

‘My arm is too short.’ His tone betrayed how annoyed he was by that fact more than he’d ever admit.

‘And yet so strong, I saw you throw Dick from one building to another once. And you can keep her in place with the other one like that.’

He didn’t like to be touched most of the time, but to her surprise, Damian was compliant to her ministrations, and let her arrange his limbs as necessary to keep Helena safe.

‘He tried to mess up my hair when we were in the field.’ He mumbled.

Now she smiled.

‘How terrible of him. Come on, darling, I’ll let go now, you can do it.’

He stared at her panicked.

‘Kyl-! Oh…’

Selina let go.

‘See.’

He broke eye contact with Selina and looked down to his little sister for a long time, like he was trying to memorize her wrinkled baby face.

‘She’s so light.’ He whispered, amazed.

Selina chuckled.

‘Try to carry her for nine months then.’

His brow furrowed, wrinkling his button nose.

‘She has father’s nose.’

Selina laughed.

‘She does, doesn’t she? The poor thing, we might give her a rhinoplasty as a birthday gift in a few years.’

She saw his lips twitching; Selina’s greatest joy was to break Damian’s mountain gorilla’s serious face. When she told him that, he informed her that there were no gorillas in mountains and that they lived in forests, with his most mountain gorilla’s serious face.

They turned their heads to the sound of approaching steps.

‘Selina, have you seen… Oh, Damian. You are here.’

The air changed, standing still, Selina eyes Damian noticing how stiff his little shoulders became.

‘Yes, father. Were you looking for me?’

‘Hmm…’ Bruce hesitated studying the scene, Selina smiled at him, he didn’t acknowledged the gest, eyes fixating on Damian. ‘Yes.’

‘For what?’

‘Give Helena back to her mother, let’s talk in the cave.’

Damian held the baby a little bit tighter, Helena fussed in her sleep.

‘He’s just holding her for the first time, Bruce, he can go later.’

‘No, it is fine.’

He tried to give her back, but Selina stood up from her nursing chair.

‘You know what? They look so adorable, I want a picture of this moment. Where did I put my cell phone again?’

She left the room ignoring Damian pleading eyes and Bruce’s stiff posture.

Bruce grunted.

‘Do you want to give her to me now?’

‘Didn’t Kyle just said she was getting her phone to take a picture of me holding her?’

Bruce grunted again.

‘Yes, right. But her name isn’t Kyle anymore.’

‘It would be counterproductive calling her Wayne.’

‘You can call her by her first name.’

‘She never asked me to.’

‘Would you? If she did?’

Silence.

‘Are you supporting the head?’

‘Yes, father.’

‘Are you sure? Let me-‘ He approached, arms stretched to get the baby, Damian rescinded a step.

‘Yes, I am sure. She should have fallen if I didn’t wouldn’t she?’

Bruce looked from his daughter to him son, his red young face, the betrayed look, his shoulders fell.

‘Damian, you don’t need to get angry.’

‘You know what? Here, have you daughter that you had on purpose, I’m going on patrol.’

Selina entered the room exactly when Damian finished Helena on Bruce’s arms.

‘I’ve found it! You won’t believe where it was… Wait, what is happening? Bruce, give Helena back to him.’

‘No, I don’t want to be in your stupid picture, I’ll ruin it, like I ruin your stupid family!’ And he ran away.

Selina crossed her arms and stared angrily at Bruce.

‘Bruce, what have you done?’

‘Nothing, Damian just need to calm down, he’s being childish.’ He rocked the baby even thought she still slept soundly, unaware of the drama surrounding.

‘He is a kid. He is allowed to be childish. Give Helena to me. Go talk to your son, now.’

He thought about arguing, after all, he hated being ordered around and it was even more appalling that it was happening in his own house, but if he learnt something in the past months was the when he argued with Selina when she was looking that pissed he was going to lose. Being right or wrong. And he knew he wasn’t right. That conversation with Damian was way past its due.

Bruce gave his sleeping daughter a last longing look, she was such a tranquil baby, she had just been passed around so many times and didn’t seen to care at all; and then he gave her back to her mother’s waiting arms.

‘Be kind to him. It has been hard for him lately.’

‘I know.’

‘Go.’

He nodded and left the room.

When he found Damian, only a minute and a half after leaving Selina, the boy had already finished putting his uniform on, minus the mask, despite being fast dressing up himself, Bruce was always amazed about how quickly Damian got ready.

‘Damian, it’s too early for patrol.’

‘Crime doesn’t wait to get dark to happen.’

‘Damian.’ He tried again in a softer note.

‘What do you want?’ He snapped.

‘I want you to talk to me.’

‘I don’t have time to talk right now.’

Bruce sighed and approached the boy, he put one hand on his shoulder, that made Damian stop fumbling with his gloves.

‘You can make time for your dad, can’t you?’

Damian shot him an angry look.

‘Be quick.’

‘Alright, alright.’

But Bruce just stood there looking at him, his youngest boy, always so angry, so easily hurt.

‘You are not talking.’

‘I’m sorry, I know. But heading Wayne Enterprises, being Batman, that stuff is easy than this.’

‘Yes father, you have made clear how hard for you is having me as a son.’ He shoved Bruce’s hand away and focused back on his glove.

‘Damian, I didn’t say that.’

‘You never needed to!’

Silence last long enough to Damian want to die a thousand times, he sucked the air hard, and roughly cleansed the hot tears oh his cheeks with the back of his hands.

‘If… If that’s all I have better things to do.’

And he was right about to leave when he was engulfed in a massive hug.

‘Damian, son, I didn’t know… Hell, that is a lie, I did know you felt somewhat like that, and it is my fault, I am so sorry. When I say it is difficult to me it isn’t because of you, it is me. You know I try to be ready and prepared, but I don’t know how to prepare to be your father.’

‘Yes, I know, mother had me behind your back, you never wanted me.’ He was crying freely now, drenching Bruce’s turtleneck.

‘That is not what I meant. I am not prepared to be your father as I wasn’t to be Dick’s or now Helena’s. I don’t think it’s something you can prepare yourself for. And I don’t want to fail you, you deserve my best, and I don’t think I have been giving you that. I am so sorry.’

He kept rubbing Damian’s caped back and he cried, holding his small frame as he shook with sobs. It was so rare to see Damian break like that, the boy must have been under so much pressure, Bruce felt guilty fester in the pit of his stomach.

‘And I want you to understand that Helena being born changes nothing about how you fit in this family. You are and always will be my son.’

‘Blood son.’

Bruce smirked.

‘Blood son. Yes, but I’d like if you stopped bringing that up to your brothers.’

‘Fine. Let me go now.’

He didn’t.

‘Father, you are crushing me.’

He held him a little tighter.

‘Father!’

Bruce let go.

‘Now, go wash your face and take that picture, Selina is making everyone have one.’

‘But I’m going on patrol now.’

‘No, you are not. And that’s an order.’

‘But-‘

‘We go later, just you and I.’

Damian just kept staring hard at him.

‘I promise.’

The boy then nodded and left.

‘Ohh the picture will be even better now that Helena is awake. Awwwn, look kitten, she is smiling at you. You love your big brother, don’t you, Helena?’

Damian’s eyes was still a bit red, but when he looked down to his baby sister, his frown was miraculously gone.

‘Big brother.’

‘Hn?’

‘You said I’m a big brother now.’

‘That’s right, honey.’

He haven’t thought about that. Big brother. Him. Damian. That was promising.

The picture rested on the fireplace mantel that Christmas, and so many others to come.

Wrote this story for my dear friend Lily who is the sweetest person ever and like me (and Damian in this fic) once had to hold a little sibling for the first time.

If you enjoyed please let me know, I’m new and I love to chat.

#batcat #bruce wayne #selina kyle #damian wayne #helena wayne #batfamily #bruce is a good dad #fluff and feels

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witherins · 4 years

Text

・。 ◟ ⟨ 🥀 ⟩ * ── so , it only took me three whole days to write this , but i did it nonetheless . pls focus on what matters most : the dumpster fire of an intro that i'm calling my own . i'm cc & this is my lil thief , pip . she's a mess , not a cool guy & entirely based off of the song her by chase atlantic , i linked it :) go listen to it :) B U T , if u'd like to plot , react to this or lmk if u prefer d*scord .

ʻ / wow , i am so excited to introduce philippa ‘ pip ’ kwon to our current students at cape coral . she is extremely excited to join women’s tennis . coming in as an 20 year old sophomore , they shouldn’t worry about fitting in . the cis female scorpio has always reminded me of ha sooyoung , but some people don’t see it . trying to keep the fact that she’s been breaking into the homes of the wealthy to steal for profit from getting around this school is going to be tough . no worries , though , cape coral will create a new life for them , i assure you . ʼ

𝓲. 𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 .

birth name : philippa kwon current name : philippa bae nickname(s) : dumbass , pip , pippa age : twenty gender / pronouns : cis gendered female / she / her / hers orientation : pansexual / panromantic hometown : portland , maine faceclaim : ha sooyoung

fun facts : significant dumbass , ruled & directed by money – meaning she's ecstatic to be here because she's trying to marry rich i can't lie , has a third degree black belt in taekwando , has sticky fingers & thoroughly enjoys stealing from people , can knit really well & will knit her friends cute sweaters , also ! is good at fencing but doesn't do it as often , really good at drawing & theoretically could make a career out of it but nah .

aesthetic : feet planted firmly in dark soil as roots do , perfectly imperfect day old curls , salty tears while crystal eyes look into the moonlight , skipping unabashedly through puddles after the rain , fingerprints lingering on hot skin belonging to others than her , framed paintings worth millions hanging on bony shoulders & flushed cheeks accompanied by a rosy red nose .

𝓲𝓲. 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕝𝕖 .

mom doesn’t want her , dad thinks there are too many kids already . youngest of seven , hues filled with life are quickly extinguished when she grows up with not enough love . siblings are hard working , fingers calloused from hustling on the streets while her parents wipe sweat from their brows breaking their backs to barely make end’s meet . five & left on a crowded street ; her fingers get dipped in tar for the first time as she lifts a wallet from a protruding pocket . she thinks she’ll get in trouble , but she gets a swift congratulations from an elder sibling as they collect green paper from the wallet . doesn't get told no , so she doesn't stop .

moves across the country at six – her mom is chasing a career that’s going to fall through , but none of the nine kwons know it . they’re eager & pip is told she won’t have to dip her fingers into full wallets anymore , but one month in a real home , the walls are thin enough that she can hear someone crying in the next room . hauntingly , they come every night & naivety fills her mind as she imagines a ghost – the boys at school have called it a weeping woman ; they don’t know how right they are .

she says goodbye to her own bedroom that fall , moving into a trailer down the road as she watches another princess move into her home . crystalline tears hide behind small hands and as an outlet , her parents gather up as much as they can to make sure she never has to be like them . they’ve found out about her extracurriculars , the fights she gets into & how she gets extra money on the weekends . they focus her never ending energy elsewhere , taekwando , fencing , soccer , tennis – anything the rec center offers for free , she gets signed up in . everything that requires more than a passion , dad works extra hard for her .

grows up busy , but never forgets to get her fingers wet . the art of pickpocketing is delicate , but it’s one she has mastered before she hits puberty . bracelets are sold for jewels , sold for cash , exchanged for food . spends a lot of teenagehood looking over at the people walking on the clouds . they walk with their heads held high , ignoring a girl with dirty cheeks as she steals the least valuable expensive item from their persons . she wants to be like them , but she’s barely in school & she’s barely making it . will she even be alive long enough for an opportunity ?

her parents want what’s best for her . they crave a child with success & they know her potential , even if she doesn’t see it for herself . goes to community college , works as hard as she can while discovering a life of crime . fate is the reason she doesn’t get pulled underneath the tide , a scholarship presented to her that she didn’t think she’d win . doesn’t know how she’s chosen , but an opportunity to rub shoulders with the people she so despises ? she won’t let it pass her by .

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 .

exterior . flitting & free , she’s a lifetime’s experience of adventure & a lust for something greater . pip always has something to do , someone to see & she’s intoxicating . like honey , she has a way of drawing people in & trapping them in amber . doesn’t stay for long , never stays for long – due to an irrevocable fear of commitment . lost a lot of things , not interested in losing anymore .

interior . a mess , a jumble of thoughts & emotions that when mixed together , cause acidic reactions . doesn’t stay still for too long in avoidance of the things inside of her mind , terrified of seeing who she is underneath the banter & the laughs . always wishing for better , desperate for a move up , doesn’t want to be like her family but has always known deep down that’s all she’ll amount to .

𝓲𝓿. 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 .

so yea it took me 24 hours to write this but what r u gna do about it ? my wc include : ride or die , a lil ... slow burn , a big ol’ “you stole from me i remember you!” thing , someone she wants to open up more & corrupt , crushes that go either way BOTH unrequited & not & a squad . :) thanks . love u .

#capecoral:intro

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boeserbby · 5 years

Text

Only Time Will Tell- Brock Boeser 1.3

about/request: I really wanted to explore a relationship where you are ‘the other woman’ this is the result of that. I’m not sure how long this will end up so…. sorry.

warnings: cursing, i think that's it??

authors note: Sorry I took such a long time bringing this out, I didn’t know if anyone actually liked this or not. Remember that a lot of details in this story are made up or changed. Make sure to check out parts one and two, I fixed some mistakes and made some corrections.

timeline: march 2017

word count: 2614

Hockey used to be a life for not just me, but my whole family. Three nights a week we would hop in my dad’s old work truck to cruise over to wherever Charlie, and in turn Brock, played. Often times we would meet up with the Boeser’s to grab the best seats right by the ice. Here my mom would yell to “Shoot the puck!” or boo at whatever call she felt didn't fit the crime. My dad would grab a couple of beers while talking to some guys he knew from his work. Small towns mean most people there he knew so he would rarely sit with us the whole game. Sometimes I would sit by my mom and Brock’s mom and sisters. Sometimes there would be kids from school or members from the team who were scratched I would sit by instead. Wren was often the one scratched. He never made it to practice on time and when he did he would spend more time talking to guys on the team then practicing. He was nice and seen grew to be one of the guys on the team I felt fully comfortable with. He understood what it was like to be the younger sibling and live in the shadow of our elders. His older brother Josh was team captain and lead them to 3 state titles in a row.

After the game, all of us would go out to eat. The Boeser’s and the Y/L/N’s and whomever joined along from the team. Dad would tell Charlie what to do better, of course Dad knew what it was like to play hockey. He played for the University of Minnesota until a really bad accident his sophomore year took him out. Charlie, and me too (at least for a little bit), just wanted to impress him. Often times dad would rag on Charlie until they got into a mini fight. Charlie would hitch a ride back with Brock and his family. My dad would then spend the whole drive home complaining that Charlie was never going to be as good as him if Charlie didn't take his advice.

Although the bad seeped into the good. The hockey rink was were my family was one. We all would come together to scream when number 6 would skate out. Cause no matter how awful things were going at home, the rink was a time of escape. It was when hot chocolate would warm cold fingers in the late second period or the high of sugar rush from skittles in the second intermission. It was a time to giggle at the little kids they brought out between periods. They wouldn’t yet be comfortable on skates so they would slip and fall or miss the puck completely. I couldn’t remember what it was like when Charlie and I were that young playing, but I like thinking we were better than that.

After he had died, I didn’t go to many games. There was no more hot chocolate or skittles high. No little kids falling or scoring on their own net. We never went out to eat after the games. There were no more arguments between dad and Charlie. The nearby rink which once held the best memories was purposely avoided at all times. Life went on, but each day seemed to hold some emotional punch of remembrance. Like one day, about 3 months after he died I came home from school and my mom had cleaned out his room. Neat piles of his clothes and pictures were placed in bins labeled “attic” or “giveaway.” His first skates, his autographed Detroit Red Wings Steve Yzerman jersey, and so much more was packed away to be set aside. His posters, CDs and other trinkets were thrown out or donated to a thrift store. I remember yelling at my mom that this is his room. She told me she needed to heal and that dad had been asking her to do it for two weeks. It was time to move on.

Since moving I had gone to no hockey games. And the Vancouver Canucks were not a bad team. They had just been having a difficult time in recent years. That didn’t make city pride for them any less. Any game night and the always crowded downtown streets turned into an obstacle only the bravest could handle. I never purposely put myself in a position to make the drive down to the stadium in the past 2 years of living in Vancouver. Occasionally I was invited to games by friends and classmates. I managed to get out of it every time too, but somehow escaping this invite seemed impossible.

It was Brock’s mother’s last night in the city before she had to fly back down to Minnesota to care for Brock’s younger siblings. I was extended an invite due to my ‘gracious’ hosting, my mother called me and told me how Laurie, Brock’s mother, raved how I grew into such a beautiful and caring young woman. So there I was crammed in Rogers Arena with 18,000 or so people. Laurie was on one side of me wearing a new Boeser jersey. I, even though I lived there awhile, owned no such fan gear and instead dressed in a thick sweatshirt. Natalie tried to get me to wear her old Trevor Linden jersey, but I high tailed it out of there before she could fish it out of her closet.

I loved hockey growing up, but standing here made me feel so out of place. Life had changed so much in the past two years. I was no longer the little tomboy with scraped knees and a messy ponytail. I longer wanted to play hockey. Now, I had put hockey out of my life so much that welcoming it back in right now felt traitorous to everything I had done to avoid coming here. Laurie was cheering and dancing. I guess there is nothing quite like the debut of your child in the NHL. Warm ups had just started so every guy was on the ice. It was easy to spot him in the white 6 with the dark blue background. I got chills the first time I saw it. Boeser was spelled out in big letters across his back. I imagined at that moment seeing Charlie out there. He would mess around and probably fall trying to impress some girls he would see on the front row. But he would be here, and he would be happy.

“I’m gonna go grab a beer, want one?” I asked his mom. Canada drinking laws are sort of amazing. I remember getting carded at a bar when I first turned 19. There was a split second of panic before I remembered I didn’t really need to be 21 up here.

“No, hun, I’m going to facetime the girls so they can see Brock on the ice,” she said grabbing her phone.

People were still pouring in from the front doors. Lines were long for everything even the escultors. I recognized some people from college and waved. They sported brand new jerseys and held in their arms peanuts and beers and popcorn. “We are gonna win!” They all said. People were invigorated with the call up of Brock. I was invigorated to get a beer in me that's for sure. Fifteen minutes and 16 bucks later I carried my two beers back to our spot. Laurie was finishing up her call to Jessica and Paul, Brock siblings along with Duke. I waved and said hi to everyone.

“Kid, you gotta come back more often,” Paul said. Paul was Brock’s oldest sibling and he always acted like he was so much older than the rest of us. Add on to the fact that I was the youngest in our family friend group, “Kid” has been my nickname well into my early teens.

“I will soon, I have just been super busy with college and all.”

It had been mine excuse through out my time here. For the first 8 months my parents begged me to come home. At this point they didn't even call me anymore. I guess it's far cause I don't call them up much too.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay back home,” Laurie said. “Are you guys staying up to watch the game?”

“Only for a little bit, I work early in the morning.” Jessica said. West coast games ended way too late to stay up watching them in Minnesota. While it was only 7:00 our time it was 9 there so the game could last until 12 or 1 am.

We all said our goodbyes as the lights dimmed. The Canucks opening video was being shown on the big screen while music blared in the arena. This was pump up time. As our guys skated out people cheered loudly. This game was supposed to be good. The Ducks always had a little rivalry with us. Add on to the fact that this was Boeser’s first home game and we were on a two-game losing streak. The team, and the fans, were hungry for a win.

Unfortunately moral lasted until the ducks scored for the third time in the first period. Add on when Montour scored to make it 4-0 in the second, people began realising that not much has changed even with Brock. As the zamboni entered the ice for second intermission, Laurie turns to me.

“So, your mom told me your in college,” she started. God, she was fishing. Mom’s think they are clever trying to get information by stating the conversation at a wide base value and steer it to the cavity in the situation.

“Yep, I go to the University of British Columbia for journalism,” I said sipping water I got after downing both beers in the first period.

“That must be a lot of work, what do you do for work?” she asks.

“I actually write for Vancouver’s newspaper, they pay pretty good, and I do work study, so they pay for so much of my tuition that isn’t covered by my scholarships and then I get some of the money”

“What do you do for work study?” she asks.

“My English professor needs an assistant. I’m basically his gopher. If he needs a book from the library or a coffee I go get it. I transcribe his lectures for any kid who misses class. Sometimes I will tutor kids or help them find good sources for their papers. It’s not too bad, maybe three or four hours per day and I get like 6 credits towards my English major.”

“Gosh, that's a lot. He needs you to do all of that?”

I shrug, “It sucks sometimes but the professor is nice so…”

“Your mom said that you haven’t come home since moving here.” They way she phrases the end of it is hard to respond to. It's not a question, more of a statement. She didn't sound mad or upset like my mom does when she says it. Laurie just sounds concerned. Her voice feels like a hug.

“It’s just soo much,” I start. “Charlie’s gone and mom and dad are splitting up. Mom met this new guy and he is so proper. Dad hasn’t even called me in two months because I said I’m not coming home for his huge labor day party. Plus I just got so much going on.”

“It’s okay to be hurt by what's going on, but don’t hide from it. Your parents love you a lot. They just don’t know how to love each other with so much hurt.”

“I don't know how to love them with so much hurt.” I mutter.

Everyone is buzzing as the crowd makes its way out of the arena. We may have lost, but Brock put one in the beginning of the third to excite the crowd. Laurie and I hang back to give Brock time to get ready. The team could have lost 10-1 and she still would have been glowing with excitement for Brock. His life was changing, and he was no longer the little boy who fell over on the ice. Where most parents would have been freaking out, Laurie handled with grace, something she has done her entire life. No matter the situation Laurie put on her big girl pants and muddled through.

We meandered our way to the locker room, showing our passes to the security guard. In the hallway we waited as different guys from the team joined up with their wives or girlfriends. They all hugged Laurie telling her how wonderful her son is. Everyone loved Brock. Well almost everyone.

Brock finally made his way out. His hair was still wet from what I was hoping was a shower and not sweat. He and Laurie hugged when he reached us. It was an awkward second or two while we figured out if we would hug or not. Wrapping my arms around him felt weird, almost as weird as the time we kissed. Yet there was a nostalgia in it too; we went always so awkward. In fact I remember a time in my life where I never thought we would ever be strangers. I remember once when I was about 12 and Brock was about 13, I had a dream that Brock and I were dating. The next day I remember being shy and awkward especially when he called me “Kid”. I went all pink and Charlie would not let it go for a whole year. Finally, when Brock asked a different girl to the joint 7th-8th grade dance Charlie let it go. I spent the whole night crying and accepted Thomas Miller’s invite. He had braces and dark hair and spent all night trying to kiss me. After the second slow dance song I joined up with my friends instead. The next day I heard a rumor going around that he said not only had we kissed, but that I let him touch my boobs. Charlie had been mad and cornered me about it. When I admitted it false, he said he taught Thomas a lesson. The next week someone “anonymously” shared a picture of Thomas at a birthday party sucking on his thumb with a stuffed animal. From there rumors spread he wet the bed every night.

We always had each others backs. It made we wonder how things ended up so differently. We all walked out together. As I reached into my pocket to order an Uber, Laurie offered to have them drive me back to my apartment.

“It’s too late for a young woman like you to hop in some random mans car.” she insisted.

“”I couldn’t bother you guys,” I said.

“No bother,” Brock said. “Might be nice to see more of the city anyway.”

Thirty minutes later I lay in bed without make up and in an old, ripped up shirt from Natalie’s older brother that he left here. Natalie was already deep asleep when I got home with one of the Harry Potter movies on full volume. With school for both of us the next day, it was important to get as much sleep as possible. But as I laid there all I could think about was Brock’s hair and his cologne. I wished things could have ended better for us all those years ago. Maybe there’s time for change now. A girl could hope.

As I finally started to drift asleep my phone’s ping jolts me awake.

Brock Boeser has texted you.

Thanks for coming tonight. I hope to see you soon.

God, it’s going to be a long night.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine

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hello-robin-goodfellow · 4 years

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TOP 13 FAVORITE COUPLES (PART I)

13º Helen Fanshaw x Geoffrey Tennant (Slings & Arrows, 2003-06)

Status: Canon and fabulous.

Some months ago, i has recently finished the three series (eighteen episodes) of the canadian TV Show Slings and Arrows. Sweet Theater Gods and Lúcifer, Geoffrey Tennant and Helen Fanshaw are a “on again, off again” hot mess that i love! My favorite moment with them is when, reunited and having their first honest and friendly conversation in seven years, they walk around the streets of Toronto and take a paddleboat ride, remembering the day that Geoffrey haved his first mental breakdown and Helen, sad for him fleing the theater in the middle of their performance of Hamlet, tried to drown herself and survived with a dress dirt of mud. They are played by real life married couple Paul Gross and Martha Burns, and nothing shows more passionate chemistry them a couple of aging actors playing a couple of aging actors. Plus, i loved Helen’s red wedding dress so, so much!!

12º Lady x Tramp (Lady and the Tramp, 1955)

Status: Canon and iconic.

I grew up watching VHSs of the old Disney 2-D Animated movies over, and over, and over. And a thing that i find funny is that most people tend to quote movies from the 1990s Disney Renaissance as when Disney Couples started to met each other first instead of fall in love at first sight, bu when we make a retrospective, in actuality it was Lady and Tramp who started the trend. First they met at Lady’s house and have a verbal fight due to diverging points of view about humans, them they encounter each other again at the streets when she flees from Aunt Sarah, and they walk trough the zoo to unleash Ladys muzzle, Tramp takes her to dinner at Tonys (wich us gives Bella Notte, one of the most romantic scenes in movie history)... every step that a real couple takes to meet each other is taken by Lady and Tramp.

11º Fininha x Clécio (Tatuagem, 2013)

Status: Canon, but star crossed.

Tatuagem (Tattoo) is a movie set in the late 1970s, during the period of the Brazilian Civil-Military Dictatorship, that tells the love story between Fininha, an young soldier, and Clécio, an actor and playwrighter who produces satirical plays for a underground theater called Chão de Estrelas (Floor of Stars). Their romance is one of the most sweetest ever captured on film, but we also feel a certain unease that the fact of Fininha being at the service of the military who persecutes the theater artists will break the couple apart at any moment...

10º Marianne Danielle x Doctor Van Helsing (The Brides of Dracula, 1960)

Status: Fanon due to lack of confirmation word from the movie creators.

While watching Hammer Horror’s Brides of Dracula, i finded adorable how Doctor Van Helsing cares for Marianne Danielle (whom he befriends while arriving at Transilvania), how he wants to protect her and respects her feelings, to the point of trying contain his sorrow when she announces her engagement with Baron Meinster. I always imagine that when he defeated the Baron (who is revealed to be a vampire), and flee the wind mill with Marianne, he declared his feelings, she reciprocated, he teached her how to fight vampires, they married and became a battle couple searching to purge the world of the vampires. This is a pairing who deservers more love, fanart and fanfiction.

09º Queen Fantaghirò x King Romualdo (Fantaghirò/The Cave of the Golden Rose franchise, 1991-96)

Status: Canon and powerfull.

Fantaghirò (known in the english speaking world as The Cave of the Golden Rose) is a series of five television films produced in Italy by Lamberto Bava (Mario Bava’s son), telling the adventures of Fantaghirò, the youngest of three princess sisters who trained to become a brave warrior, as a way to get free of the sexist restrictions imposed to her life by her father. Her kingdom has been at war with a neighbor kingdom for years, and one the young recent adversary king, Romualdo, decides to end the war by personally challenging the best champion of Fantaghirò’s kingdom. Fantaghirò, disguised as man, presents herself as this champion, and their love story begins when Romualdo falls in love with the beauty of her eyes. What’s interesting about this couple is how their personalitys complement each other: Fantaghirò with a more combative strong temper, and Romualdo with a more sweet and calm temper.

08º Nina Shah x Lisa MacKinlay (Nina’s Heavenly Delights, 2006)

Status: Canon and delightful.

Nina’s Heavenly Delights is a Rom Com about a cooking contest, directed by Pratibha Parmar. The death of her father Mohan brings prodigal daughter, Scot with Indian ancestry Nina (Shelley Conn) home again to her mother, siblings - and the family restaurant, ‘The Taj’. Being able to keep the latter now hinges on the cooking skills Nina learned at her father‘s knees. In the ‘Best of The West Curry Competition’ she will have to face the former fiancé she left at the altar, Sanjay. In this competition, she will count with the partnership of Lisa, who owns half of the restaurant since Mohan’s death and already seems to be very much part of Nina’s family. And in the proccess, Lisa also becomes a part of Nina’s heart...

TO BE CONTINUED...

#shipping #shipp history meme #shipps #get to know me #about me #tag yourself #tag game

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oldflcme · 4 years

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HELLO loves ! admin bee here with ALL THREE of my lil angels ! i was gonna do ‘em separate but . . . lazy. anyway ! give this a lil like if you’d be interested in plotting with declan , son of peter pan / acelin , son of hades / or astrid , daughter of elsa ! apparently we love a single parent fam in this house.

diego tinoco. twenty-one. cis male. her/him. one sibling. ––– hey , there’s DECLAN ‘DEX’ PAN from AURADON walking past the castle. they’re the YOUNGEST ADOPTIVE child of PETER PAN , isn’t that cool ? talk says they can be pretty - FATUOUS , but don’t let that worry you – they can be + AMIABLE too. say , don’t you think they remind you of SMIRKING YOUR WAY OUT OF AN ARGUMENT , THE SOFT SOUND OF PIPE INSTRUMENT , TRYING NEW THINGS REGARDLESS OF LEGALITY , or is that just me ?

BASICS ON DECLAN ‘ DEX ’ PAN !

full name : declan fox pan.

nicknames : dex , fox.

parent : peter pan , adopted.

orientation : bisexual , biromantic.

FAMILY.

so ! i imagine that , at some point , peter has to grow up and he has a hard time with it. it takes him a while to fully grow & mature , though he never quite loses his childish charm.

as peter is aging , i imagine that he decided he still wants company of his lost boys , so he adopts two of them ; declan and his older adoptive sibling. i feel like as peter aged , the lost boys found their way on their own but dex & his now brother kinda stuck together around peter.

i did put a wc up for his brother , u know , *wiggles eyebrows* just in case anyones tempted

anyway ! dex is super close with his dad & brother and enjoys their life in auradon

BACKGROUND.

dex grew up in auradon and was always the one known for getting in trouble.

he’s suave , charming , sneaky , and definitely a tad blunt depending on the situation he’s in.

he can talk himself out of pretty much any mildly bad situation. caught stealing ? he has an excuse for that. caught somewhere off limits ? he was lost.

definitely a bit childish , loves telling jokes , playing pranks , and doesn’t take a whole lot seriously.

a huge , huge flirt but flirts with literally no intentions. he just likes complimenting people.

he has a huge heart but he doesn’t really know how to use it properly.

so , incredibly honest and not afraid to hurt feelings. it doesn’t really effect him all that much when he upsets someone , he would rather just be honest than worry about others feelings.

i am fully convinced he’s , somehow , snuck over to the isle to meet the isle kids. pls give me a lil hookup w/ a vk , i would cry.

you can find declan’s wanted connections here !

dove cameron. twenty. cis female. she/her. two sibs. ––– hey , there's ASTRID ERIKSEN from AURADON walking past the castle. they’re the YOUNGEST child of ELSA , isn’t that cool ? talk says they can be pretty - SECLUDED , but don’t let that worry you – they can be + REGAL too. say , don’t you think they remind you of ICY WHITE LOCKS TIPPED WITH BLUE , PERFECTLY MANICURED NAILS , & THE SOUND OF CRACKING ICE , or is that just me ?

BASICS ON ASTRID ERIKSEN !

full name : astrid emilie eriksen.

nicknames : emmy ( family )

parent : elsa , unknown father.

orientation : bisexual , biromantic.

FAMILY.

okie doke so astrid is the daughter of ELSA & an unknown father. i do feel like he is known , but him and elsa never lasted together and she was never interested in depending on a man so she independently raises her kids as per her own choice.

i feel like all of elsa’s kids inherited some of her ice powers , variety and power differing.

they’re a pretty tight nit family , astrid definitely clinging to elsa a bit more than the others bc shes the baby.

BACKGROUND.

astrid grew up in auradon & enjoyed it for the most part , though she’s always been a bit curious of the isle.

a random fun fact ; her hair is naturally ice white with blue tips , but she likes to dye it pink every now and then.

she has minimal ice powers , they’re not super strong but she can conjure up some snow and ice when needed. she could definitely get stronger , but she doesn’t have a huge interest in it.

although when she was little , she made a baby snowman named gerald. he didn’t talk , but she took him everywhere.

anyway.

astrid is definitely a princess. looks like a princess , acts like a princess.

she’s definitely a bit proper , though she does let some curse words slip when she’s in a mood.

sometimes prefers to be by herself and will death glare at you in your interrupt her alone time.

definitely a bit easy to mess with , she gets annoyed super easily even when she tries not to.

generally speaking , she’s pretty nice though she will 100% say things how they are , she never does it intentionally to hurt feelings.

she is a lot like her mother in the way of problem solving , she tries to fix everything herself.

you can find astrid’s wanted connections here !

luke hemmings. twenty-two. cis male. he/him. two sibs. ––– hey , there's ACELIN ‘ACE’ SPEROS from THE ISLE walking past the castle. they’re the MIDDLE child of HADES , isn’t that cool ? talk says they can be pretty - DEMEANING , but don’t let that worry you – they can be + CANDID too. say , don’t you think they remind you of SNEAKING AROUND LATE AT NIGHT , FIREY HOT FINGERTIPS AGAINST COLD SKIN , & SUSPICIOUS BUT SOMEHOW CHARMING SMIRKS , or is that just me ?

BASICS ON ACELIN ‘ ACE ’ SPEROS !

full name : acelin alastair speros.

nicknames : ace.

parent : hades , unknown mother.

orientation : bisexual , biromantic.

FAMILY.

ace is the middle child of three from hades himself , god of the underworld !

despite being , ya know , hades , i do feel like he wasn’t an awful father to the kids , though it was hard to not turn out pretty rough considering the conditions.

their mother was never present , and hades has never even revealed who she is.

def feel like the serpos’ kids all have some powers of some sorts , like hades.

BACKGROUND.

ace grew up on the isle and honestly , he didn’t hate it.

he’s naturally a bit rude by nature , always doing anything to get what he wanted.

known to lie , manipulate , etc. but lived a relatively secluded life , only making appearanced when he needs something.

it was very much like that scene in a movie when the bully comes in and everything gets quiet.

not that he’s a bully . . . but . . . he was definitely not the nicest of people on the isle.

then again , being nice on the isle wasn’t really an option.

when it came to the barrier being opened , ace wasn’t entirely impressed at first. he didn’t really have any interest in the isle and since the parents had to remain locked there , he wasn’t all the invested in leaving his dad.

however , he ends up deciding to cross , mainly curious as to what the hell king quincy is doing.

he definitely didn’t change any of her mannerisms for the sake of the isle , he’s still very much rude when he needs to be and he does not have time for any royals that don’t want them there.

has definitely gotten into a few fights alright , i’m sure.

ace is able to conjure some blue fire from his finger tips , though he doesn’t tend to show it off often.

his skin is also always super hot. he naturally runs a temperature.

has adorable blondes curls with lil blue streaks.

he’s a pain in the ass , honestly. :/

you can find ace’s wanted connections here !

#hqauradons.intro #is that the tag?#hope so #sdgljsdg

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the-spidermania · 5 years

Text

Being Rdj’s daughter and dating Tom Holland would include...

(Not mine credit to owner)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Downey!reader

Words: about 1,500

Warnigs: This is my first ever headcanon also english is not my first language so bare with me but other than that nothing unless you have a problem with fluff

Meeting at the Civil War set

Tom being pretty shy around you cause he’s had a crush on you since he was 13 or something

Becoming good friends because you’re both the youngest on set

Sebastian and Anthony teasing you guys

Robert acting like a full on dad and being very protective over you

Literally everyone secretly shipping you two

Being able to talk about everything together

Tbh the first time he met you he was a mess

He probably couldn’t get a single word out without stuttering

“H-hey Y/n I-I’m Holland- I mean I’m Tom. Tom Holland”

Him being the biggest dork ever

You smiling at him

“Nice to meat you Tom”

You literally being a female version of your dad

Then one day while you were having a movie night he would ask you out to have dinner

You accepting thinking he was cute all along

Tbh having your first kiss at new years eve at exactly midnight

I’m a dramatic queen okay i need this

Anyway

Being the most adorable couple ever

Freaking out about the silliest things ever like the new Star Wars trailer or something

Anthony and Sebastian still teasing you both

Probably having Sebastian as your best friend tho

Seb being also very protective

Him acting like you big brother tbh

Robert giving Tom ‘the talk’

“I swear to god Holland if you hurt her I’ll hurt you too”

“I would definitely never hurt her sir.”

Robert being the most awkward dad ever tbh

“Have you done it yet?”

“I really hope you’re using protection I don’t need litte Y/n’s and Tom’s running round here”

You blushing

“Dad!”

But also being the best dad ever

This is a fact.

Giving the best hugs

ALWAYS kissing your forehead

“I hope you know that I love you pumpkin.”

“Love you three thousand dad.”

This being a phrase you’ve said since you were little

Having a really good relationship to him

Back to Tom tho

Constantly trying to impress your dad

Because he wants to let him know that he is a good man

And that he can protect his daughter

You telling him there’s no need to do that but tbh he wouldn’t stop.

“Look, I think you’re a good kid Tom. I like you and you make my daughter happy. But just know that if anything happens I will always have her back and be on her side. You get that right?”

“Of course Sir.”

Him being a nervous wreck before he meets Susan

He bought flowers for her

Coming exactly on time

You opening the door wearing a summery dress

Kissing him

Hearing Robert caugh in the background

Susan being the sweetest

Accepting him to the family in an instant

Tom actually staying for a week

Being great with your little siblings

Babysitting them together so your dad and Susan can have a day off

Your actual big brother Indio coming home just to meet Tom

Him being very protective over you too

Telling him in private that Tom is literally the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time

Indio warming up to him

But not until he made his position clear

Which is basically the same as your dads

Coming down the stairs at a random afternoon just to find Tom and your brother playing video games in the living room.

Or coming home from shopping with Susan and finding the boys watching football or something

Finding it a bit weird at first

But being happy that Tom basically became a part of the family

Having your first big fight at your apartment which is in New York

You packing a bag and flying to your dad’s.

Telling him about everything that happened

Eating a lot of ice cream together

Probably Ben and Jerrys tbh

Him comforting you

Watching Back To The Future together cause it’s your favorite movie of all time

Literal silence between Tom and you for about three days.

You opening the door on a random afternoon and seing Tom on the other side with a bunch of roses

Him opening his moth to say something but you slam the door shut and run upstairs to your room

Hearing a knock on your door a couple minutes later

Saying ‘come in’ thinking it’s your dad

“Your Dad let me in..”

Him saying sorry in the cutest way imaginable.

Not being able to resist any longer and accepting his apology

Him gladly kissing you

Which would probably turn into a full on make out session on your bed

Robert interrupting

You two basically jumping apart

“I was coming to see if you’re okay but I guess you are. Watch it Holland.”

You probably breaking out into laughter and Tom blushing

Spending the day in bed together watching movies and ordering Chipotle

I love Chipotle okay I have a serious obsession haha

Back to the story

Flying back to your apartment after a few days of staying there

Him being pretty jealous of other men especially Kit Harington

Cause everytime you two watch Game of Thrones and there’s a shirtless Jon Snow scene

Or literally A N Y Jon Snow scene tbh

You’re always like

‘Fuck he’s hot’

‘Look at him omg’

‘I would so date him’

Tom clenching his jaw or something

You noticing this and pressing pause

“You know I only love you Tom, right?”

Him looking you straight in the eyes

“I know”

You play fully hitting him

“Don’t play Han Solo”

Him laughing and probably kissing you

You leaning against his chest and continue watching

You loving to teas him about his jealousy when it comes to Kit

You actually having the opportunity to meat him at a premiere and having a really interesting conversation

That is until of course Tom turns up

Kit, the gentleman he is, would obviously say hello and be really nice

Tom wrapping his arms around you

Kit having to do a interview

“It was nice talking to you y/n”

At this point Tom would be the most jealous person on this planet tbh

“You know he’s married right Tom? I don’t even like him in that way. I only love you can’t you get that in our stubborn head?”

“I know darling it’s just...”

“Just what?”

Tbh at this point you would be angry at him

“I’m nothing compared to him."

You automatically pulling him closer and putting you arms around his neck

“You’re everything to me Tom. I love you. Not Kit, not anybody else. Only you. It’s always you.”

Him smiling at you and constantly trying to not be jealous anymore

You showing him exactly how much you love him when you get home

Being the biggest nerds on the planet

Loving each other endlessly

You crying a whole week after infinity war

Him constantly telling you that it’s just Peter who died not him

Only crying more

Visiting your dad together and you starting to cry during dinner

Going into your room

Your dad asking what’s wrong

You telling him it’s because Peter and how much you hate Thanos

Him lightly laughing and pulling you into a hug

“Love you three thousand dad”

“I love you too pumpkin”

Everyone on this planet shipping you

Being the cutest couple ever

How did I do? I hope okay haha

Anyway, I’m going to build up a story to this. Always the same characters and stuff but different scenarios. Not in a particular order tho.

I’ve had this idea for a long time and I hope you enjoy.

Thank you for reading

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