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annaloveshjp · 1 year

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ravioli shenanigans

harry potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

——————————————————————————————

a/n: this is a little fake scenario I thought of a few months ago and I wanted to write it here.. the first 2/3 of this kinda sucks ‘cause I wrote it a while ago, but it gets better near the end. and I apologize for how long it takes for them to kiss LMFAO.

Info; Modern AU: Lily and James are alive, and Harry is an only child. Best friends to lovers. I imagined Harry in fourth year, but any year works. 2nd person POV. y/n is muggleborn.

warnings: phones and texting, some swearing, a kiss, and Harry being a teenage boy.

summary: harry is bad at cooking, and flirting.

——————————————————————

It’s summer break. It’s been a week since you got home from school and you’re lying in bed, watching YouTube, when all of a sudden you get a *buzz* from your phone.

You look up to the top of your screen to see:

[Harry: Y/N HELP ME]

Oh also, you were best friends with Harry Potter.

You had been friends since kindergarten when you saw him eating alone at lunch, so you decided to join him.

You walked into the lunchroom one day at school and noticed a boy your age eating alone with an interesting lunchbox, shaped like some sort of trunk.

You had never seen him before now, which was weird to you, but you decided ‘hey, why not make a new friend today?’

“Hello! I’m y/n, what’s your name?” you asked, walking up to the raven-haired boy.

He looked at you for a moment before quickly gathering himself and responding.

“Hi, I'm Harry. Did you need something?”

“No no I don’t need anything, I was just wondering why you’re sitting all alone?”

“Oh,” he replied, “well I guess I just- don’t have any friends to sit with.” he shrugged.

“Well now you do,” you said with a smile.

“Huh?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

“Now you do. Unless you don’t want to be my friend? I can leave-“

“No no! Please stay, I will be your friend.” he says as the corners of his lips tugged into a smile.

“Oh good! Now-” you said, sitting down next to him. “Do you prefer ham and cheese, or PB&J?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you click the notification to see what the hell he is doing.

————————Harry————————

Harry:

Y/N HELP ME

SO BASICALLY MY PARENTS

WANT ME TO MAKE DINNER

TONIGHT BUT I HAVE NO CLUE

HOW TO COOK ANYTHING AND I KNOW

YOURE AMAZINF AT LIKE- FOOD STUFF

SO I NEED YOUR HELP PLEASEEE

Y/N:

HARRY JEEZ

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DYING😭😭

Harry:

ok first of all- I’m the

boy who lived so that’s

not possible. second:

I might as well be dead cuz my

parents will kill me if i don’t

cook something that isn’t dino

nuggets. so will you help me or not?

Y/N:

okay fine, how

about I ask my dad

to buy something from

the store later? does

Cheese ravioli sound good?

Harry:

you are a lifesaver i

LOVW YOU! thank u 🙏🤭

Y/N:

love that candy

Harry:

😐😑😐

Y/N:

no need to blink

at me sir 🤨

Harry:

did you just call me sir 😳

Y/N:

yes.

Harry:

OK anyway- can you

come over at like 5:30

Y/N:

yes sir I will be there 🤫

Harry:

stop calling me that.

seen

——————————————————-

You snorted at his last text and set your phone down onto your nightstand.

Stretching, you get up from your cozy bed and make your way to the living room.

“Hey daaaaad?” You say, dragging out the ‘a’.

He hums in response.

“Could you get some cheese ravioli”

“Sure.” He replies.

“Thanks!” You say before running back into your room and texting Harry again.

-———————Harry————————

Harry:

stop calling me that.

seen

Y/N:

HARRY! he said he will

get some ravioli 🤭🤭

Harry:

brilliant! 😚 so

uhm when you get here

can you like cook it for me..

Y/N:

…babe, you’re seriously that

bad at cooking that you

can’t even boil some

pasta for five minutes??

Harry:

LEAVE ME ALONE😭

so yes you will be cooking it so

i don’t burn my house down

thank you I will see you at

5:30 💗

Y/N:

okay weirdo 🤨

seen

————————————————————————-

The rest of the day leading up to 5:30 was pretty boring.

Harry lived only a few houses down from yours, it was very convenient that he was within walking distance.

When you found out he didn’t live far, you were very happy, and you were surprised when you both found out you were both attending Hogwarts.

-flashback to finding out you were both wizards/witches.-

“Come on mum! I swear I just saw someone else do it, you just have to walk through this… wall.” You said to your mother with a mixture of confidence and uncertainty in your voice.

“Oh alright, but if I run into a solid brick wall, you’re making pancakes tonight.” she responded to you nervously.

The whole car ride to kings cross, you were sad that you couldn’t tell your best friend, Harry, that you were a witch.

-flashback-

“I’m going to this new boarding school, but I promise I’ll see you during summer!” You told him one day at recess.

“Oh that’s alright, I’m going to one too,” he replied.

“Oh good, I didn’t wanna leave you all alone here sad by yourself” you responded, smirking.

“Shove off Y/N,” he chuckled.

“Hey Harry?“

“Hm?”

“Promise me you’ll visit over the summer, alright?”

“Of course!” He said with a smile.

——back to kings cross——-

You grabbed her hand and dragged her along with you through the brick wall. You both expected to CRASH, so when you didn’t feel your faces slamming against it, you were shocked to say the least.

You open your eyes to see many families saying goodbye to their children, the latter of whom were pushing away kisses on cheeks.

You stare open mouthed at the sight before you: a beautiful scarlet train, people with trolleys running around everywhere. It was truly, magical.

“Whoa.” you said in awe.

—-timeskip to sorting—

“Bones, Susan” Professor McGonagall called out.

A little girl walked up to the sorting stool and sat down slightly shaking.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The sorting hat announced a moment later.

She got up smiling and skipped over to the Hufflepuff table where every house member was clapping.

“Potter, Harry”

You froze and your smile faltered.

No way, you must’ve heard wrong right? or- there could be so many other people with the last name ‘Potter’ and first name ‘Harry’, there’s no way-

You let out a small gasp. Your eyes widen as you see that familiar color of raven hair walk up to the sorting stool.

Many others gasp with you, which you didn’t understand why. Do they know him too? I thought I was one of his only friends?

Anyway- you watch as he looks around the room anxiously waiting for the sorting hat to make its decision, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone (including yourself; he didn’t know you were there).

After a few minutes, the sorting hat called out “GRYFFINDOR!” and the whole gryffindor table applauded.

“We got potter! We got potter!” You hear two boys chant in unison at the table.

You continue to stand in shock as you process what you just discovered, you almost didn’t hear Professor McGonagall call out-

“L/N, Y/N”

Your eyes widen even more (if that’s even possible) as you make your way up to the sorting stool. You’re trembling.

You sit down, and immediately look to the gryffindor table to search for those familiar emerald eyes.

Once you and Harry lock eyes, his eyes widen with his eyebrows raising to the roof.

“Oh my gosh! What!” he mouths in your direction.

“I know right!” you mouth back to him.

After another moment, you and everyone in the great hall hears very loudly: “GRYFFINDOR!”

You smile big and make your way next to the only person you know—

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me you were going to hogwarts?” Harry asked you.

“Professor McGonagall told me I can’t tell anyone!” You replied.

“Right, forgot about that,” he said smiling.

Suddenly a boy across from you talk to you. “Hello! I’m Ron Weasley” he says smiling.

“Hi, im Y/N L/N, nice to meet you.” You reply.

You take a moment to let everything sink in.

You are a witch, woah.

Your best friend is a wizard, woah!

You go to the same school, woah.

Could life get any better?

—-end of flashback—-

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, you hear your father's car pull into your driveway.

You check the time [5:24] your eyes widen as you jump up from your bed and start getting dressed.

[5:26] You run out of your room and into the kitchen where your father has already placed the bag of ravioli on the counter.

“Thanks, dad! I’m going to Harry’s house for dinner, is that alright?” you call out to your father.

“Okay sounds good. And make sure you use protection—“

“Ew, dad! Gross.” you reply with a fake gag.

Your father loves teasing you about ANY boy you are friends with/talk to, and usually it’s Harry.

You grab the bag of ravioli and walk out the door. You quickly tie up your hair (if you can) and start your walk to his house.

It only takes about 3 minutes. You check the time while you walk up to his front door: [5:31] ‘okay, I’m not too late’ you think.

You open the door and put the bag of ravioli on the counter. Harry was home alone today since his parents went to some event you don’t remember.

“Honey, I’m home!” you call towards his room.

You don’t hear a response, so you kick your shoes off and decide to sit down at the kitchen island to wait.

You hear footsteps walking towards the kitchen as you look up from your phone.

“You’re late,” Harry tells you as he walks over to the island and picks up the bag of ravioli, examining it.

“Only by like, one minute,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes.

You look at him as he sighs very dramatically. He’s wearing black sweatpants, a white t-shirt and his hair is as messy as ever.

“Still technically late,” he says jokingly.

“Whatever. Anyways, when are they going to be home? Your parents, I mean,” you ask him.

“Uhh I think six. I thought thirty minutes would be enough time to set the table and make the ravioli. Was I right?” he says.

“Yeah that should be good,” you say.

You get up from the stool you were sitting on and make your way to the pots and pans. You come over to his house a lot, so you knew where everything was already.

You grab a pot and place it on the stove.

Looking behind you to see what Harry is doing (which should be setting the table), you see him just staring at you..?

“Harry, are you alright?” you ask him, “Unless you’re dying—which I highly doubt—could you start setting the table?”

“Oh uhm- yes ma’am.” he responds.

His eyes widen at what he just said but continues to wipe down the table.

Once you got the water boiling, you called Harry over to the stove to. . . Give him a ravioli tutorial.

“So first, when you put the pasta in, be CAREFUL—obviously—“ you say as you put the ravioli into the pot. “Then you wait.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “That looks easy.”

“Yes, which is why I don’t understand why you can’t do it yourself,” you say, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He only shrugs with a cheeky grin before he turns away to get drinks.

You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, then turned back to the ravioli to finish cooking.

Once you both had the table set, ravioli cooked, and cleaned up from dinner making (which was not a lot), now all you had to do was wait for Harry’s parents to return home.

You both sat on the couch and went on your phones. Harry went to Twitter, while you went to TikTok.

As you were scrolling, you saw an edit of your celebrity crush. You made a squeal like noise and turned the phone to Harry.

“LOOK!” you say while giggling “OH MY G—“

“Yeah yeah,” he said, looking at you with concern. “You alright?”

You smile, “mhmmmm,”

Just as Harry was about to go back to his screen, you both hear a car pull into the driveway.

Looking at each other in alarm, you both jump up and sprint to the dining table.

Just as you both sat down, Lily and James entered and were hanging their jackets on their coat rack.

“I smell dinner!” You hear James sing into the house.

“And nothing burned!” Lily chimed in.

They both walk into the dining room and see you and Harry sitting down, apparently awaiting their arrival.

“We have a guest I see,” Lily says, smiling at you.

“As if I’m not always here,” you respond with a chuckle as you watch the both of them sit down.

“Looks good, Harry,” James says, looking at the perfectly good ravioli sitting on his plate.

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, sparing you an apologetic glance when James wasn’t looking.

You smile at him, nod, and mouth “you’re good,”

He smiles and looks back at his parents, as everybody starts to eat.

After dinner, you and Harry start to clean up.

“Hey Y/N?” he says, grabbing a plate and drying it with a towel.

“Hm?” you hum in response.

“Can you sleep over tonight?” he asks you.

“Oh uhm- yeah I mean, I probably can, I’ll just have to check with my parents.”

“Cool,” he says, giving you a smile.

You smile back at him. You two eventually finish cleaning up and you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Sitting down on the closed toilet, you open your phone and message your parents.

————————Family————————

Dad:

Sounds good.

seen

Y/N:

Hey, is it okay if

I sleepover at Harry’s tonight?

Mum:

Of course. Just make sure

you get home safe and

at a reasonable hour. Love you.

Y/N:

Thanks! Love ya.

Dad:

Make sure to use protection!

Y/N:

Ugh, gross.

————————————————————

You roll your eyes before leaving the bathroom. You open the door to see Harry.

“What did they say?” he asks you eagerly.

“They said it’s fine,” you grin as he punches the air in triumph.

“Yes! Youu cann sleepoover!” he says in a sing-songy voice.

You laugh and follow Harry to his room. It was a bit messy, but since you always complain about how messy it usually is, Harry tries to keep it neat.

“I didn't bring pajamas,” you remember.

“You can wear some of mine,” Harry says, looking through his dresser and pulling out some flannel pants and a band t-shirt.

“Thanks,” you take them from him and walk to the bathroom to change.

After you’re done, you walk back to Harry’s room. You open the door to his room and—

“Jeez!” said Harry.

He was currently shirtless, holding the shirt he was about to put on, to his chest, covering what he could.

“How’d you change that fast?!” he asked.

“I was fast because I don’t check myself out before putting my shirt back on,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully.

Harry went red. “I don’t do that..”

“Sure,” you walk over to his bed and sit down. “And I don’t care if you don’t have a shirt on, no need to be embarrassed.”

He turned to you and narrowed his eyes. “Or, you want to see me shirtless!”

“No,” you say, hoping you’re not blushing. “I just don’t care. Meanwhile, I do care if you see me without a shirt.”

He tugs his shirt on and sits beside you. “I do too, ‘cause that’s traumatizing,”

“Rude,” you say.

He looked confused for a moment before realizing, “No! Not because you look bad, just because it would be all panicky and I would run away and you would scream— what?”

You’re laughing. “I’m kidding, I know what you mean.”

He pushed your shoulder with his. “You suck,”

You stop laughing and look at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“I don’t!” you manage through a laugh, “I’m a virgin!”

You and Harry were laughing even harder now.

“You don’t act like one,” Harry said, holding his stomach.

“Well, you do,” you catch your breath, still grinning.

“At least I’ve had my first kiss,” he says.

You glare at him. “Yeah, it was with me! In first grade, you twat,” you flick him on the side of the head. “So technically I’ve had mine, too… but I don’t like to count that one.”

He has a look of mock offense on his face. “Why not? Am I not good enough?” he sighs dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” you smile with a playful roll of your eyes, and push him.

He looks at you, then gets up and walks to his desk. “Let’s watch a movie,”

A jolt of excitement shoots through you. “Oooh! Can I pick?” you ask.

He carried his laptop from his desk to the bed. He opened it and thought for a second. “Sure,”

“Thanks!” you give him a quick peck on the cheek and take the laptop onto your lap to look for your movie.

He blushes. You take no notice.

“Got it,” you say.

“What movie?” he asks.

“Captain Marvel.” you say as you both scoot into a more comfortable position.

You’re now lying on his bed, Harry next to you, arms pressed against one another.

“D’you want snacks?” he asks.

“I’m not hungry,” you say, “and I already brushed my teeth earlier,”

“Okay,” he pulls the blanket up to your torso and plays the movie. “I did too, but just wanted to check.”

You lean your head onto his shoulder. He leans his head onto yours.

Throughout the movie, you’d glance at him. A few times he was normal, but usually he looked deep in thought, maybe even contemplating something.

Halfway through the movie, Harry paused the movie and spoke up.

“Thanks for being here,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“‘Course,” you say, “thanks for having me,”

“No, I mean… thank you for being here, like, in my life.” he looks at you.

You look at him. Harry never usually talks seriously with you, this was different, but you didn’t mind.

“I could thank you for the same thing,” you say, “you mean a lot to me, honest.”

Harry closes the laptop, moves it from the bed, then hesitates. “Can I tell you something?”

You look at the now closed laptop, then back at Harry. “Of course,” you assure him.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” he says.

Sigh. “Promise.”

He took one of your hands into both of his and began to play with your fingers, looking down, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

After a minute or two, he said it.

“I like you,”

You knew this was coming. In fact, you had been waiting, hoping for it.

You try your best not to smile.

“I like you too,” you look away from your hands and into his eyes. He was looking at you tentatively.

“You know what I mean when I say ‘like’… right?”

“I do,” you nod.

He scans your face for any sign of a lie. When he finds none, he asks you a question.

“Is this going to ruin our friendship?”

“If you don’t want it to, then no,” you smile.

“I don’t,” he says. Somehow Harry had slipped his hand all the way into yours, and you were now holding hands.

“I know,” you say.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, going red.

“I don’t know, can you?” you tease him softly.

His face relaxed, and he let out a breathy laugh. “May I kiss you?”

“You may.” you say.

He looks in your eyes, then at your lips. The hand that wasn’t holding yours came up to rest on your cheek, softly holding the side of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet. You could practically feel the Sparks Fly.

Your empty hand reached up to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

The taste of him was perfect. You could feel the love he was putting into this kiss; it meant everything to him.

The way he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb sends butterflies to your heart. And when you notice how gently he's holding you, you truly realize how much you mean to him.

You knew he was your best friend, and you knew you loved each other, but you never thought your love would end up like this.

You could’ve been there for seconds, minutes, or hours, you didn’t know and you didn’t particularly care. You cherished every moment of it.

You were the first to pull away for air. You open your eyes and see him looking at you like you were brand new. Like he could never get enough of you.

“Wow,” he says.

You look at him for a second before bursting into laughter. You tried not to, but he looked too cute, and the “Wow” set you off completely.

He laughs with you, still holding your hand.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” you say through your laughs, leaning into him.

“That, we are.” he says, holding you.

The night continued with kiss after kiss, each one as good as the last, and ended with Harry holding you in his arms.

Best sleepover ever. you think.

#harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry potter fluff #harry james potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter x fem!reader

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dustofthedailylife · 1 year

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I’m thinking about kaeya x reader enemies to lovers or acedemic rivals to lovers.

I kind of have to imagine this in a modern scenario, where both Kaeya and Reader and class representatives of their respective classes. They already knew each other from primary school. They were in the same class and they hated each other's guts.

Kaeya had always been the popular guy and you were more the smart rational kid. In your opinion, you couldn't be more different. And that was also the reason you thought you would never in a million years get along.

Fast forward to college and you were once again faced with your childhood enemy. Both of your class teachers wanted to organize an event for both of your classes so you were basically just thrown into being forced to work, or heck, even talk to him again after years in the first place.

At first, naturally, your personalities clash. You constantly argue and scream at each other. You were this close to giving up your spot as a class representative to someone else, so they could deal with the cocky bastard instead.

Everything goes so wrong that at one point when you're planning the event you destroy something of material value to the school because you couldn't agree and both stubbornly try to get your will.

You both end up in detention and that's where you actually sit down and talk like two adults. Finding out the other actually isn't as bad as you originally thought. You notice how Kaeya's "peacock" behavior comes from being deeply insecure and feeling like he doesn't fit in, no matter where he is. So he basically just fakes his entire persona, born out of the wish to be liked.

And that's also when you start to sympathize with him and reconsider what you had thought of him all these years.

In before: [Insert slow burn and heavy-pining here]

#🍁 dust mail #🍁 garden visitor: joantheunicorn5 #genshin impact #kaeya x reader #modern au

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sugar-omi · 9 months

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(The inner mermaid loving child in me heard Our Life mermaids and RAN-) Okay but on the topic of mermaid AU's for OLBA hear me out, Mermaid AU where either the MC or Cove is a mermaid that through some sort of means can shift back and forth from a human form and a mer form, but they keep it a secret

If Cove is the mermaid I imagine it's kind of a "mysterious stranger" situation. Where as a kid the MC is playing alone on the beach when they find some boy (Cove) that they've never seen before just sitting on the beach and staring at the ocean. They go over to him to say hi and while Cove seems really jumpy and wary when they first speak to him he does calm down a bit after meeting the MC and they become fast friends. From that point on Cove just kind of becomes the strange kid that appears on the beach every now and again when no one else is around, and also MC's new playmate (though Cove's really insistent on the MC's family never knowing about him.. wonder why?). Skip to when they're both 18 and the MC is walking along the beach earlier than they usually would and come across either a tide pool or a cove (like the place, not the person haha-) and see a real life mermaid inside! It just seems to be laying on their stomach and hanging out but oh my god its a real mermaid!! MC thought they were fake but theres one right in front of them!!! Man the stories were right about mermaids being irresistable cause dang this one is really pretty.. look at those back muscles- oh the mermaid noticed them! Wait a sec.. IS THAT COVE????? Cue panicked screaming followed by a panicked explanation from Cove

If the MC is the mermaid I kind of got inspired by this one webcomic I read which I forgot the name of but basically the MC is just staying on land which their moms and Lizzie (who may or may not also be mermaids idk) because for some reason they can't stay in the water with their actual parents, and it's basically the same start as the canon game where the new neighbours move in and it's Cliff and Cove and him and the MC become friends, just now that whenever Cove suggests going in the water whenever they hang out MC kinda freezes and nervously declines, Cove is a little bummed he cant play with his favourite person in his favourite part of the world but he assumes they're just scared of swimming or the ocean and respects that. Then when they're both 18 Cove finds out MC is a mermaid similarly to the last scenario where he's walking along the beach late at in the afternoon when no one else is there when he sees the MC lounging in a tide pool and excitedly calls out to them and runs over, then when he reaches them Cove sees the MC freeze and try to stutter out something which confuses him until he actually processes everything he's seeing and oh my god his best friend and crush of 10 years has been a mermaid this entire time Cove thinks he's gonna faint-

I rambled a lot here my goodness the mermaids got me thinkin-

omg asking cove "so.. are you gonna lure me into the sea?" and when cove is all confused you remind him. "you were worried abt a pretty merperson taking me away, so are you?"

he's so flustered...

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lalo-tellmeagain · 1 year

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I just need to get this off my notes— I’ve been working on it a while and hopefully it’s enough to convey my feelings. I’m putting this here with the preface that I love this character so much!

While I’ve been enjoying the fan fiction and art and all the various ships, I just don’t see Lalo as capable of having any sort of relationship with anyone.

I don’t think he thinks about love or friends or sex at all beyond maybe just the most basic of bodily functions. And that’s a very big maybe.

This is perhaps best illustrated during the scenes at his home in Mexico. Every person there is hired help, and so they are loyal for the pay and probably out of fear, and yes they seem to sort of enjoy his company (maybe) but it’s all superficial because they know what Lalo is capable of.

It’s hard for the audience to get past the idea that this handsome middle aged man would just sit around by himself in this giant compound, barely sleeping, and working on his hobbies without at least wanting a partner or a family, but I really don’t think he cares or thinks about it.

He gets off on endlessly plotting his next moves- which brings us to Sylvia and Mateo. What happens to them shows us how utterly insidious Lalo is- he has imagined scenarios where he may need to fake his own death, or use Mateo in some way because of their similar looks, and he keeps them around solely for that purpose. He’s generous to them and they appear to be very loving and grateful toward him— he will always turn on the charm to deflect his true intentions. They think he really wanted to help them with the dental work, and he did, but for his own twisted reason.

Speaking of employees, poor Ciro! Here’s a kid who has been clearly bullied by Lalo his whole life, and who clearly lives in a constant state of fear and uncertainty. Lalo tells Jimmy he’s known Ciro since he was a little boy, but neglects to mention using the kid as a human shield!

Nacho is also an employee. Lalo treats him as such, even in moments of seeming to be friendly (Nachito!) there’s always an undercurrent of distrust. He’s not going to send Nacho to pick up 7 million. He makes Nacho drive him everywhere and never tell him what they’re doing or where they are going. And let’s be honest- his gut feeling about Nacho was correct-

That’s why Kim’s lecture is so incredible- you see the moment where Lalo doubts himself- maybe she’s right? Maybe I do need to try and let someone in and try to trust a little bit- even against my better judgment…..

And he’s immediately betrayed. He’s never going to make that mistake again.

The argument that Lalo has the ability to care because of his attitude toward Hector also doesn’t really work for me because Hector is absolutely the worst kind of person. Cruel. Hateful. Joyless. Where does Lalo get his own lack of humanity? Probably Hector.

Lalo admires him, constantly talking about how family is everything, but none of the Salamancas even have their own families! It’s an empty sentiment. Plus Lalo could easily bring Hector to live with him in his giant mansion and provide him with round the clock medical care, and he doesn’t! He cares about the business and the money and taking out his rivals. Imagine if the Salamancas succeeded? To what end? Who gets their vast fortune when they can never trust anyone and have no families of their own?

I think Lalo has fun playing mind games with Gus. I think he enjoys the chase a lot. He’s never not going to have a good time. And we love him for that. It’s really hard to not be curious about him (and his potential relationships) and I’m endlessly fascinated with the idea that someone could really just exist this way because to us he has an incredible life! And why wouldn’t he be sharing it with someone or many people? Why live this way? He’s just really an extremely shallow person- he cares most about his money, his cars, his house-“don’t get grease on my sink!”

Bottom line — he cannot care about any person other than himself. He doesn’t think about others at all beyond what he can use them for. He’s happiest in his own head. In Lalo land.

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bumblevoid · 1 year

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i’ve decided to ramble a bit about an old fnaf au of mine in the hopes it’ll get me to remember it enough to write it ahaha

okok so it’s called Live or Laugh, and it’s a good ol’ michael posses lolbit au. i’ve seen a lot more of those popping up lately (for example i am currently binge reading laughing at tragedy (so good highly recommend i’m in ch. 6 so far)). thought i’d go ahead and go back to mine to get back into writing fnaf lol-

we’re going to ignore that i made this au (and most of them tbh) to be funky for my weird little multiverse things i write

so basically,, it is 1986. michael is sixteen, and lives with henry after he ran away from william about a week after elizabeth’s death. he gets a weird letter from will on his birthday, blah blah he’s doing sl. that’s what’s happening. this set-up is important. and like,, night four of sl is absolutely atrocious and i literally hacked the game to skip it because no. it’s really hard and if you’ve beat it please give me tips i wanna play night five and the custom nights legitimately but uH mike dies on night four for aforementioned reasons. he dies inside the springlock suit.

now if we ever got clarification on what that suit actually looks like or anything i haven’t seen it and am kindly ignoring it. but uh mike is dead and ends up in a springtrap like situation. he’s a dead dude stuck in the suit that killed him where his corpse still is.

oh yeah the suit is lolbit in this au. i coulda made him anything but yk i had an obsession with lolbit when i made this (stares at lolbit art print that lives on my desk).

henry reports mike as missing the next day, very concerned as a man who is taking care of a child that isn’t even his should be. and then william also goes missing, and he’s just. there. the next year, he decides to work as a night guard at his own restaurant under a fake name so he can see what all the rumors about the night shift are about. he works under the fake name fritz smith for six nights and one day. yeah i swapped jeremy and fritz’s worktime for this,, dw jeremy’s still important but on that day henry uh. becomes the bite of 87 victim in LoL and yk i’m learning a lot about writing brain damage incorrectly through playing jeremy in my motw campaign lol from here henry goes on to investigate the ghosts and pretty much just steals all of mike’s night guard roles.

and uh phone dude finds mike in like. a scrap heap that all the old sl stuff got thrown in after so many years. so lolbit just, shows up at fazbear’s fright on night 3 and henry’s just freaking out because “THERE’S ANOTHER???” and “OH MY GOD THAT’S WILLIAM HE WANTS TO KILL ME-”

yeah i still haven’t thought up how exactly they’re gonna reconnect i’ve got like,, three different scenarios running in my brain ahaha

so that’s like, the set-up of this au.

every time i sit down to write it i can’t decide if i want to start from fnaf 2 or fnaf 3. like the scene that my brain imagined that brought this whole au is in pizzeria sim so 3 would get me there faster, but also it’d be fun to write out henry being like “oh. oh my robots are haunted and want to murder me what is happeninG” so.

and then i’m like. do i write just henry’s pov or like. throw mike in there sometimes for flavor

#void says stuff #Live or Laugh Au #michael afton #henry emily #five nights at freddy's #fnaf au #lolbit #i can't decide if sammy exists here lol #LoL's theme song is I Am Not a Robot by MARINA #i wrote a multiverse thingybado from the pov of LoL!Mike #that was the first one actually #never finished it tho #not that i finished any of the three multiverse things ive written. working on one from fnm!sammy's pov rn #i should update but i'm still alive they've been suffering for content since august of 2021 ahaha #or post that almost finished drabble for some assembly required #or update my drabbles i don't update things-

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ikeepwatchinghelicopters · 2 years

Text

Please, point me to the fic if it already exists, but if it doesn't, how about an Ella Enchanted AU for TMFU?

If Illya was the one cursed with obedience, his KGB handlers would know about the fact that Illya has to follow every command they give him. I think they wouldn’t even use the curse to command him that often, they’d just use it to threaten him into obedience (because they found out that if they commanded Illya to, for example, assassinate somebody and triggered the curse, he’d be much more reckless when carrying out the command, because the curse would push him to do it right away, so he often wouldn’t have time to do it stealthily). So they just have some long-term commands (like “don’t kill yourself”, “don’t betray us”, etc.) and they like reminding Illya that they could make him do literally anything (even murder his mother) and keeping Illya obedient this way. I guess the events in the movie could play out basically the same way (though count Lippi probably wouldn’t end up in a hospital, because Illya would be forced to obey when he was told to “use the ladies”). And then at the end, Oleg commands Illya to kill Napoleon, so he has no choice, but to do it. Napoleon’d still return the watch and expect that Illya will not want to kill him anymore, but Illya draws his gun to shoot him anyways. I can think of two ways the scene would go. Either Illya’d manage to break free from the curse because of the power of love. Or Napoleon had been suspicious of Illya’s obedience for a long time without ever mentioning it, and he manages to cleverly override the command to kill him. I’m not sure what the rules of the curse are in the original, but maybe just Napoleon telling Illya not to kill him would do the trick.

If Napoleon was the one cursed with obedience, no one except his parents’d know. He’d be amazing at finding loopholes and getting out of the commands. Like, Illya’s way to fight the curse in the first scenario would be more about willpower. In order to not arouse suspicion by obeying right away without even a second of consideration, he trained himself to be able to hold back for a few seconds. That way his behaviour doesn’t look totally unnatural. But Napoleon’d be more about obeying the command, but definitely not in the way the person intended it. Of course, it doesn’t work with very direct commands which have basically no room for interpretation, but Napoleon found out that he can at least delay for a bit by asking for clarification (as in: someone tells him to sit down, so Napoleon is like: “Oh, you want me to sit down? On this chair right here?”). And the curse’s strength is also significantly weakened when someone commands Napoleon using one of his fake names. This way Napoleon manages to keep the curse a secret. I like to imagine that Illya’d somehow randomly manage to find out very early into their relationship (like, even before they break into the Vinciguerra factory). Napoleon would totally expect Illya to use it against him, but the Russian would never abuse the knowledge. In fact, he’d take care to not command Napoleon to do things even unintentionally. Napoleon and his trust issues are not sure how to handle it, lol.

#tmfu #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #napollya #at least i think of it as napollya #au idea #feel free to adopt the au #i guess this also counts as headcanons

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orieriee · 3 years

Note

Aye you're welcome 😩✋💞💞💞💞 JANSJSKWJ LOVE THAT GENSHIN SMAU. IMAGINE PRANKING GEO DADDY AND HE'S FLUSTERED AJEIEVEUEH sorry. Can't help it when it comes to genshin.

Oooh I see what you did there 👀 but I like it so I'm making a headcanon out of it since my messenger fake app isn't working well these days 😔

Pranking Genshin Characters & Making Them Flustered

ft. Geo daddy & a certain winery owner sugar daddy, gn! Reader

Warnings: a bit suggestive for zhongli, fluff for diluc, grammar errors, not proof-read.

Diluc's one is below the cut!

Zhongli:

Ok, do you know the prank where you uhh.. Moan in your significant other's ears?

Yes let's do that to Zhongli 😼

Well, kinda

So basically the scenario happens like this

It was just an ordinary day in Liyue

He was sitting and chatting along while enjoying tea in the afternoon

People of Liyue have known that the fine man adores you and cherishes you as his lover

Keep in mind that you guys are newlyweds 😼

Woah what a roller-coaster, calm down Rie

Welp, for the sake of the story

Some of people of Liyue beginning to ask about the marriage between the two

Zhongli said both of you were rather living well in harmony

But being the nosy people, they begin to push questions to Zhongli

Including have you guys warmed up each other in bed yet ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Zhongli was looking... Rather uncomfortable ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You who came to pick up Zhongli overheard the conversation but it seems that they haven't noticed you being there yet

They kept pushing and your husband was looking rather uncomfortable

So you stepped in to defend him

"Geez you guys are so nosy" your appearance startled them

"Don't worry, we'll be having fun tonight, is that right my dear~?" you went to Zhongli's side and lean on him

"Oh, and I also bought something for tonight, I think you'll like it~"

At this point you were whispering into his ears

The people who was talking to Zhongli before are taking notes or having a meltdown

While Zhongli froze 🧍

"Let's go back darling. Please excuse us!"

You dragged Zhongli away from the crowd

You could say that Zhongli malfunctioned a bit there 👀

"Dear... What was that for? Are you... Serious?"

HE WAS BLUSHING I REPEAT A BLUSHING ZHONGLI SPOTTED

"Oh no... I was just pranking them. They kept pushing you so I can't help it."

You could see Zhongli's face is a bit disappointed

"Unless you really want to, I don't mind~" you said with a smug face like venti's ehe

So were you playing on him or were playing with the people?

Diluc:

I would say that making Diluc flustered when you're his s/o is pretty easy 😼

I mean if you compare to his brother, he's easy to make flustered

You just need to compliment him and he'll be as red as his hair

So one night at the tavern

Kaeya joined you for a discussion

Diluc hates it when Kaeya tries to flirt with you

Kaeya doesn't really flirt tho. He just wants to see Diluc's reaction because he finds it amusing

So here's the scenario *sprinkle*

Kaeya was complimenting you about how you were so pretty/handsome today

I mean, the typical playful kaeya when it comes to his brother's lover ✋🙄

Kaeya proceeded, "So who do you dressed up for? Is it for a certain red-haired barista over there?"

Please tell me you can hear Kaeya's voice or is it just me who had Kaeya for too long in my party

You played along by saying "Of course. That barista over there is so cute I can't wait to win his heart."

"Oh, you find him cute? Endearing I would say?"

"Yes. He is endearing, yes. And charming. Makes me want to pepper his face with lots of kisses. "

You can't see because his back was facing you but the tip of his ears were red

"I heard that you have a boyfriend, Y/N? Why are you taking interest in that barista?" Kaeya provoked.

This is where the prank comes in

"I don't know... He's very distant."

"So are you going to break up with him and date that barista over there?"

Kaeya pls😂

"Yes 😌, I think I would."

At that instance you could feel the air surrounding Diluc changed

He froze and quietly put down the glass he was wiping and he didn't dare to face you

His face was looking rather... Distorted

I don't want to hurt this man damn

"Diluc, are you alright?" you asked.

"Yes. I'm alright."

Nah, you know him way better than that

"Diluc, it was just a prank. Besides my boyfriend IS the cute red-haired barista. So technically I would date you 2 times."

Diluc is quiet...

"I would never break up with you. In fact I want to put a ring on your finger but perhaps one day when you're ready."

Kaeya is gasping, Diluc is blushing furiously

It was a pretty chaotic scene.

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Frustration

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,068 words

Premise: Commissions don’t always go as planned, much to your frustration. Luckily there’s someone there to make you feel better.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been thinking of writing Genshin stuff for months now but haven’t, for various reasons mainly that being how much this blog is already a bit of a disarrayed mess. But after awhile I decided another fandom won’t hurt. Besides I think it’s better to write something than nothing, even if the fandom keeps changing. So… yeah?

This particular scenario was basically my day today. The characters have been chosen out of my own personal will. I was going to do Zhongli as well but I’m exhausted so if this is well received perhaps I’ll do that another day.

Also I’m so tired I’m halfway to a headache and feel a bit floaty so sorry if there are grammar mistakes and such. Anyways, hope you like!

Character Banners in progress

Ao3 link in reblog

Childe

“I’m gonna kill someone.” You muttered, slamming your weapon down on the table, causing the ginger next to you to start.

“As long as that person’s not me I’ll be glad to help you.” You weren’t sure whether you found the comment worrying, insulting, or charming, and decided not to reply, instead throwing yourself in the chair across from Childe, usually reserved for customers or some member of the Fatui higherups, though today you could care less.

“Hey, am I not good enough?” Childe half whined half joked. You only grunted before getting up and walking over to his chair, plopping yourself on his lap and promptly picking at a stray thread on his coat which had caught your eye and was now becoming an increasing source of irritation.

Taking this as a sign Childe gently pried your nails away from the offending thread. Placing your palms in his gloved hands he smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Want to tell me about it?”

“It’s this stupid ley line! You know, the one in the stone forest? I was commissioned to keep an eye on it, normal stuff, but this one seems absolutely crawling with all sorts of slimes and the like, hilichurls too and a stray bandit here or there. They keeping breaking the damn thing and the minute I fix it they’re back again. At this rate I’m not going to finish it!” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking of the hours you’d spent fighting with the thing. You’d even let out a few tears of frustration in the process, and having nothing to show for it was intensely irritating, to say the least.

“Poor darling.” Childe’s smirk was timeless, but there was a softness to it that you took as confirmation that he understood. I mean if anyone was going to understand it was going to be a member of the Fatui. As much as you disliked the group on principle, you did have to admit that Childe was certainly a hard worker, and running around at the whims of the far off Tsaritsa certainly had its trials.

Slumping against his chest you allowed yourself to relax a bit, some tension brought out simply by the act of telling someone about the frustrations that were building up, like someone shaking a corked bottle. Childe kissed your hands, a welcome distraction, before giving you a peck on the nose. You smiled at that, squeezing his hands. It felt good to have someone to complain to, to have someone who understood. But that was Childe, surprisingly understanding. And always looking for a fight.

“So…” as if on cue Childe spoke up, tone becoming truer, his smile becoming more foxlike. “You have something you need help fighting I hear.”

“Don’t let this get you any ideas.” You smirked right back. “I can still whip you when it comes to sparring at you know it. Besides, won’t I get in trouble if you’re there.”

“Give me half the commission rate and we’ll call it square.”

“Such a steep rate!” You gasped in fake horror, nevertheless lifting yourself off the chair. Childe was up no sooner, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Well of course! I can’t have you fleecing me out of my money. Not when I’ve already given you my heart, which is quite expensive by the way.” Giving you a quick forehead kiss he took your hand then, giving some half assed excuse to the poor desk clerk when they asked where he was going. “I have to save someone some trouble.”

You scoffed at that, but it was true. Childe was saving you a lot of trouble, and keeping your pride in some sort of piece. That was Childe. Wild, passionate, aching for a fight, perhaps not a great person – no in fact decidedly not so. But he was also surprisingly caring, reliable, and steadfast. And that was all you could ask for in the moment.

Diluc

“Do you know where in Monstadt someone is supposed to find 50 Windwheel Asters?”

Diluc whipped his head up at that one; out of all the things he expected you to say that was certainly not one of them. It was almost closing time at the Winery, and this was normally the time when you came up to see him, chatting about this and that, waiting for him to close the ledger so you two could have some time together. In the entire history of your relationship there’d never been an evening that began such as this.

“There should be some around here, and Windrise if you’re in for a bit of a hike. But 50 is an awful lot, and I’m not sure the florists would be happy if you carted off with all their flowers.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, picking at your fingernails. “I know that finding 50 of anything in a day is a hard task. But I was given a short noticed commission by some wealthy tradesman who’s passing by and wanted some flowers for a gala or some such thing. It’s important for the Guild that I complete these you know, and I’m not looking forward to telling Katheryne about it tomorrow.”

You sighed, glancing out the window of the Winery. You thought of all the places in Monstadt the view was perhaps loveliest here, cozy, with a view of all that made Monstadt, the planes, the forest, even a glimpse of the waterways that ran through it. But right now all you could think about was how in such a vast swath of land you’d still failed to meet the goal, you’d still turned up empty handed.

“Would you sit next to me?” Diluc’s voice broke you out of your depressing reverie and you sat down in the chair adjacent to his – a recent addition to his office – laying your head somewhat awkwardly on his shoulder, running your hands through his soft hair. You two sat in silence like that for a bit, the steady flow of Diluc’s pen keeping your eyes occupied while your hands braided and twisted at random, gentle and absentminded.

Finally the ledger was closed and Diluc turned to you. Smiling he massaged your left shoulder slightly, eliciting a sigh from you.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for things like this.” He began, his tone soft and low. “No reasonable person on Earth would ask you to gather so many flowers in a day. Even Flora doesn’t sell that many to a single customer without an order, and her whole job consists of selling flora. You’ve watched me work long enough, do you think I’d sell 50 kegs of wine to a tradesman on site?”

“No, of course not.” You mumbled. “But it’s my job to do the unconventional requests, how can I pick and choose at random? I can’t very well complete only half of my commissions.”

“Of course not, but nobody expects you to simultaneously catch 50 flowers out of thin air either. The Guild has its own regulations and rules you know, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a violation of one. No one doubts your prowess my dear. You’ve slain Eyes of Storms and have scaled mountains taller than most people in Monstadt might ever imagine. You done what might be considered impossible to some many times. So you should trust in the Guild and in the people of Monstadt. They aren’t well likely to turn their back on you over such a ridiculous request.”

You hummed a reply, resting your hands on Diluc’s. All he said was probably right of course, Katheryne could very well tell you how ridiculous such a request was, and no harm would come to your reputation. But your relationship with Diluc was still young, there was still so much to learn about the other, and so hearing such confident praise from him felt like a sort of gift, recompense for such a frustrating ordeal. Humming once more you leaned your head on his shoulder again. Tomorrow you would go and tell the Guild about the debacle, and let the man know the ridiculousness of his request. But tonight you just wanted to rest with the person you cherished the most. That was all you wished for.

Xiao

“Something’s wrong.” Xiao’s voice was purposefully flat, and you wondered not for the first time how the adeptus in front of you had become so good at reading your mood, especially considering the fact that he admitted himself that his grasp on human emotions was a tricky one. He always seemed to know when you were upset at least, and your initial urge to attempt to hide your frustration immediately blew away.

“It’s been a rough day.” You admitted, standing next to him on the Wangshu Inn’s railing, letting the cool evening breeze cool you down. It’d been an obnoxiously hot day, and you were glad for any bit of fresh air. Xiao said nothing, but you could feel his gaze on you, waiting for your decision as to whether or not you’d let him know the reason you were upset. Not that it was really a question, at this point you couldn’t imagine a time when you didn’t tell Xiao practically everything, from the most mundane to those things that loomed largest in your life. You’d never met someone you trusted so much in your life before, and it felt rather freeing, knowing that he didn’t mind a bit, something that had scared you when you first began opening up to him.

“It’s just a commission, nothing ground shaking. Thankfully.” You added on, thinking of when Liyue had almost been swallowed whole; the moment when it seemed all would fail, before the miraculous traveler had bound the adept and the citizens of Liyue together. It was something you weren’t likely to forget, and something you never wished to relive. “That being said.” You added on. “It’s something that, well, is distressing me a lot.”

Xiao stood patiently as you explained to him that your deceptively simple commission of delivering food to someone had managed to go horribly awry after a group of Cryo slimes had left the food frozen solid, with the angry customer unwilling to pay or wait for a replacement.

“It wasn’t too expensive thankfully.” You remarked. “I mean it was just food. But it feels silly, and a bit embarrassing. I mean of course I should’ve paid, I don’t begrudge that. I just don’t understand how I managed to screw up something so fundamentally simple. It seems… somehow a bit of a slap in the fact. I mean, aren’t I any good?”

“Of course you are.” Xiao’s answer was firm, but not unkind. Instead it held in it the certainty of one who’d lived thousands of years, and whose trust in you was absolute. Drawing closer, the adeptus glanced around, making sure there was no one around, before slinging an arm around your own, drawing you close and running soft circles around your shoulder.

“You’re a great adventurer.” He remarked, voice filled with as much serious as there was fondness. “I’ve seen many warriors, many adventurers come and go in my time. Those whose feats will fill the pages of books and the staves of songs long after they themselves have been reduced to ashes. Those who will be called great heroes. All of them fell sometimes. And, if you must fall, I’d rather it be over something so simple as a botched food delivery.”

You glanced up into Xiao’s eyes. Normally he was reticent with words, even moreso with gestures. Every word let you deeper into someone’s life, into their past, their personality, their soul. No word was careless with Xiao. And as you stared at eyes filled with pride and love and worry, suddenly you felt as if what had just passed was small, oh so very small. There would be another commission, just as there would be another tomorrow. There’d be another failure most likely too. Many of them even. But they were small stones in a great big pond, quickly sinking out of sight and out of mind.

“I love you.” You breathed, and Xiao’s face seemed to open all of a sudden, shedding a thousand cares and a thousand worries. He pressed his forehead to your own.

“I love you too.”

#I'm so so so tired #sorry for not writing for so long #and having no good schedule of works of fandoms #I'm sorry #genshin impact #childe #diluc #xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact x reader #scenarios #my writing

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x female reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo #mikey tmnt #tmnt mikey #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #Mikey #Michelangelo #smut prompt #ns*w #ask #bumbleburn

328 notes · View notes

baubaes · 3 years

Note

hi! is there a chance for Jemily with no22? some angst maybe? cheers🤗

Well hello to you to! And of course there is!

@thatonecurlygirl prompt list 22

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Ship: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau

Word count: 5,4k

Genre: angst/hurt/fluff/very very light nsfw? i have no clue how to label this

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, injuries, classic criminal minds vibes :^)))

Summary: "Right now, Emily Prentiss was dead. She, however, was on a plane to Paris." aka JJ taking care of staked Emily, the blackbird flashback and events around it.

A/N: i thought of way too many scenarios when even though Emily and JJ are literally in love, it could never work out. here's one of them :^) i hope you'll enjoy it!! xx ana apparently i just can't imagine a scenario in which these characters could have a peaceful, quiet and happy life, im so sorry

Emily felt drained.

She was all hurting, really bad, her head was killing her, not only from the beating she received those several days ago, but also the mere stress of all this.

It was pretty baffling for her to realize that she survived this whole ordeal.

She couldn’t say for how long she was out; it felt both like a blink of an eye and an eternity.

And she really thought that she died, when she eventually lost consciousness in Morgan’s arms. That still felt like ages ago.

It was all really confusing, but then again, she couldn’t spare too much of her strength to dwell on what actually happened. Emily just felt too weak to try to keep her eyes open for too long and that resulted in her reality being pretty much scattered.

When she woke up in a hospital room, she was dazed and overwhelmed. They’ve put her on some strong painkillers after the surgery and most of the time right then felt like a blur. She thought she heard some voices in her dream, maybe doctors, maybe… Was it JJ?

She heard bits and pieces of conversations, somebody commenting on her condition in a low voice, nervous footsteps circling around the room, the dimmed rhythmical sounds of all the equipment she was hooked to, some sort of buzzing and a one sided conversation that had to be a phone call.

Was it just some bizarre dream?

A way for her subconscious mind to cope with the anxiety surrounding the recent events?

Whether it was real or not, it let her stay in this state of slumber brought to her through an IV drip.

Despite all that, she felt really grateful. She wasn’t sure where to channel this gratitude though;

Her team for backing her up?

The doctors for patching her up in the OR?

God, for allowing her to continue her existence?

Then again, she wasn’t sure if the last one existed, nor that the almighty entity would waste its time on making sure little old her survives.

It was comforting though, that her last moments on this Earth managed not to be spent with Doyle, even if that was against her will, so in theory, she didn’t have much of control over this.

Memories of him were a combination of ones that she’s made as Emily Prentiss and ones that she’s made as Lauren Reynolds. As Emily, it consisted of all those moments when he threatened her and her team, he kidnapped her, tortured her, nearly killed her…

As Lauren she was able to saw his more… Humane side.

Lauren was his girlfriend. Lauren lived with him,

Lauren shared her joys and fears with him. Lauren loved him.

But that was Lauren.

She wasn’t real. An identity, that’s all that she was.

And even though Emily tried to convince herself that Lauren’s feelings were perfectly compartmentalized away from her own, deep down she knew she was lying to herself.

Was Doyle ever somebody she actually loved?

She definitely despised him, but it felt like now she was obligated to despise even her own self for ever having feelings for this monster. Positive ones anyway.

Right now, Emily Prentiss was dead.

She, however, was on a plane to Paris.

It was all coordinated by Hotchner and JJ.

Nobody else knew.

Her team, her friends, her loved ones were about to attend her funeral in a few days.

She imagined confused look on Spencer’s face, Garcia’s eyes filled with tears, Morgan frowning and looking away. Would Rossi be sad, or would he finally feel relieved to be ridded of her impulsiveness and comments on literally everything?

She imagined her mother, who obviously was not on it, throwing a pile of soil on the coffin. That would not hold her body inside. Would she cry? Would she stay composed even at a funeral of her only child? Well, again, it wasn’t real real, but she wouldn’t be able to realize that.

For some reason, she figured JJ would’ve taken it upon herself to feel guilty, despite knowing what was going on.

They both knew it was the only way to make it all work.

Emily worried about everyone, but there were two people she worried about the most. Spencer and Penelope.

They both were incredibly strong, but she couldn’t be sure how would they deal with this.

She worried, since Reid did not cope well with losing authorities. And even if he would never admit it to her face, she knew that he looked up to her.

The thought of that made her feel the bile appear on the back of her throat.

That kid has lost so many people already… And he internalized all that, it had to be weighing on him every single day. It felt cruel to add another person to that list.

She had to keep thinking about the bigger picture to even remotely be able to deal with all that.

Now Garcia was somebody that Emily truly loved.

It was hard to imagine her being sad over her „death”.

Not because of the probability of the blonde being sad,

rather the severity of her grieving, Emily would imagine.

Penelope was one of those people who were able to feel so much, maybe even too much sometimes.

And on a daily basis it was wonderful. That’s what’s made her such an incredible, empathetic human being, who, despite their job, was still able to not only - be cheerful, but to cheer others up as well.

When she thought of that, it felt as if her heart could break to million pieces.

It was strange, how in that moment she should still feel the pain;

They’ve stabilized her after the surgery, but there were still bruises on her face, stitches across her abdomen, burnt skin on her chest. And she did feel it, but it was blurred, far away.

The feeling that made her grasp reality to the point of hyperawareness was the emotional pain.

Somehow she was able to compare it to the pain of being staked.

She still wasn’t sure what was a proper emotional response in that situation.

It wasn’t in the manual, or in training, despite people having to go… Well, faking your own death was like going undercover, in a way.

Both at the Interpol and the FBI, nobody taught her how to feel, while pretending to be dead.

She knew how to make it happen technically, more or less. After all, Lauren had already died. Her old team, JTF-12, was able to pull that off those several years ago. Including her of course.

But that was Lauren. An identity, which, sure, she’s been tied to for quite some time, living as her, acting like her, becoming her in a way.

Still, just an identity.

Right now, there wasn’t a disguise, an identity to toss away, allowing her to come back to her regular life.

Right now her regular life was supposed to cease to exist.

Before, she thought about her goal and the fact, that she survived. She was grateful, in some way she felt obligated to take care of Declan and she wouldn't be able to do that, if she was actually dead, right?

Even though she knew that she had no right to feel attached to the boy as much as she did, she just couldn’t help it. The image of him as a toddler, walking around the room in Doyle’s house stuck in her head. She couldn’t shake it off. And even before Doyle found her, that image caused her to have problems with falling asleep from time to time.

Emily never seriously thought of herself becoming a mother, for that role to be the main purpose of her life. She was afraid of screwing her potential children up, because she knew that even if she meant well, it wouldn’t guarantee them turning out okay. And her line of work made it impossible to both realistically approach the idea of maternity - she didn’t have a partner and if she were to be a single mother - it would be impossible to keep up with the BAU - that job was just too demanding; but also she saw so many downright evil, just unimaginable things that people were capable of doing to one another. How could she ever be able to shield a child from that?

Suddenly, all these ridiculous, small things that she wouldn’t think twice about made her feel as if each and every part of her life was just slipping through her fingers, right there, right then.

That one window in her apartment, the one with the wide windowsill, she loved to sit on it and watch the sky. Sergio would curl up in her lap or right next to her, on the windowsill, quietly purring, when she would pet his black fur. It didn’t happen often, because most nights she'd come home so exhausted, all she could basically do was just pass out on her bed. And Sergio would sleep on a pillow right next to her, despite Emily's promises to herself that she will teach him to stop, because she'd wake up covered in his fur with a runny nose.

But when she had a chance to do that, it made her mind stop racing, at least for a few minutes. That barely ever happened anywhere else.

Now she realized that Sergio was alone in her apartment and she panicked. But just for a second, because then she remembered JJ in the hospital, telling her that Penelope took him in. Of course she did. He'd definitely be surrounded with love. She wished she could've just taken him with her though, since she's already been missing him. Silly little fur ball, making her fall in love with him gradually. Penelope wouldn't be able to resist his charm for sure, she thought to herself, smiling. Still, she felt really sad.

Emily realized that she’s left so many things behind.

She didn’t think of herself as someone intensively attached to material possessions, but all these had a sentimental value for her and that was the only thing that mattered.

The thoughts invading her head were random, coming to her without any particular sense or order, falling on her mind like an avalanche.

And she thought about that crumpled up picture, capturing her with her friends when she was a teenager, back in Rome.

A cross, that her mother gave her on her first communion. She wasn’t ever really wearing it, but she liked knowing that it was safely tucked away in one of the drawers in her closet. It brought her some strange kind of comfort.

A box with letters she’d exchange with her father when she was a kid, because even though they moved around together as a family, he still would have assignments all around the world. So he would leave for a single weekend, or for several months at a time. No matter how long or short was he leaving for, he’d always try and send her a postcard, hence the collection of them, both from huge cities in Europe and Asia and tiny places she’s never even heard of before in America or Australia.

Maybe she wasn’t going through this box ritually on some settled schedule, but every once in a while she would look at those tacky pictures of touristy little towns, as well as simple, beautiful pictures of great historical monuments or watercolored landscapes of picturesque countrysides. And they'd make the corners of her lips rise up just a tiny bit.

All that with a couple words reading simple greetings, scribbled in a hurry, in her dad’s small, not exactly neat handwriting, on the back of each and every one of them.

„Love you, Dad” summed up every single message.

And looking at those words made her feel warmth, both now and when she was a little girl. Her father wasn’t very talkative and he rarely told her he loved her unprompted. So she got used to reading these words, instead of hearing them from him.

She cherished these postcards and anytime she’d go through them, she noticed some kind of feeling spread throughout her body, that felt like pure joy, but also love and safety.

Kurt Vonnegut’s "Sirens of Titan".

Morgan lent it to her a few months ago.

The book was by her bed, bookmarked with some crumpled receipt for groceries she’d found at the bottom of her purse, when she'd had to suddenly break away from Rumfoord and Kazak on the jet.

She’s read it before, truth be told, (in Italian and back in the ’80s), but Morgan insisted that she just had to read the original version. And even though there was a stack of books she wanted to read going back at least two years sitting on her bedroom floor, dangerously leaning against the radiator, the day she brought it home, she placed the Sirens on the very top of her bedside table, instead of the stack.

She’d imagine Morgan would appreciate that gesture.

Morgan, her partner.

Morgan, who held her before she passed out.

Morgan, who always had her back.

And she tried to do the same for him in the field.

He’s saved her ass countless times.

Emily wished she could have had his back right now.

She realized with a paralyzing fear that it could last forever.

Doyle could lay low, undetected for years.

Would it keep Morgan up at night?

Would he blame himself, wondering?

If he'd gotten to her seconds earlier, if he had only ran faster, if he’d found her sooner, would it change anything?

Thinking about that made her fists clench suddenly.

If she had any fingernails left, they would surely dig into the skin of her palms very painfully right now.

Emily felt this overwhelming guilt filling her chest, making her throat feel as if it was closing, her teeth grit.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, as if the jet’s cabin had become decompressed and she couldn't reach the oxygen mask.

"You’re doing okay?"

She heard the soft and calming voice of her only companion on this flight, naturally besides the pilot.

JJ was looking at her with those big, worried, blue eyes and even though Emily’s first instinct was to nod, as she did just that, she felt her eyes watering.

"I can't stand the thought of all of them grieving over a lie."

She mumbled out.

"Emily, you know that this is the only way. We’d never make them go through this, if there were any other options. They will understand."

JJ’s voice became more firm with the last sentence, she was obviously in a mind space reserved for dealing with crisis.

"I really thought that was it, you know?"

Emily asked, a little startled at the sound of her own voice.

She couldn’t recall the last time she’s held an actual conversation with another person, one that wouldn’t consist of barely understandable mumbling as a form of communication on her end.

"There came that point, where the pain went away, I guess I went into shock. I heard Morgan’s voice and I wanted to keep my eyes open like he told me to so bad, but I just couldn’t. I felt like I was slipping away and it felt so… Easy. I wasn’t scared at all. I… I knew you guys would take care of Declan, if I wasn’t around. And that all of you would be okay."

She said, trying to piece together everything that happened.

"And apparently I've coded in the ambulance? I had no idea, but some glimpses are coming back to me, slowly. But it was like I’d fallen asleep."

She added, her face reflecting her mind in a state of deep contemplation.

Her thoughts were interrupted by JJ’s voice.

"Thank God, you didn’t…"

Emily only now noticed that with every word that she spoke, JJ’s eyes became more and more glossy. She frowned.

"Hey, I’m here."

She leaned in and smiled faintly.

"Its gonna take way more than some branding and a little stake for you to get rid of me."

JJ laughed, wiping the tears away, before they had a chance to flow down her cheeks.

"Why would I ever want to get rid of you?"

Blonde asked, her voice now soft, her expression puzzled.

Emily felt something strange in her chest.

At first her brain assumed it had to be her burnt skin and damaged nerve endings, but no.

It felt nice, it wasn’t painful.

That warmth, spilling around her insides.

She didn’t have a witty comeback to her question. She wanted to think it was because of the meds making her hazy, but she wasn’t sure anymore. She just looked down at her chest and frowned again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The first thing I’m doing, when we get to Paris is having this removed."

She heard her own voice.

"How could a brand hurt more than getting staked?"

"Maybe it’s a psychosomatic itch you’re scratching? The brand left an emotional toll, Doyle established dominance over you by marking you as his, a stake… I mean you overcame death. The ultimate victory over your foe. Why suffer a pain you’re proud of?"

JJ wondered, actually trying to analyze all that. She looked at her, now amused.

"Or you could always get another tattoo."

Emily laughed at that. JJ continued.

"You know, something transformative? Like a… A phoenix. Or a blackbird."

"I love the song."

Emily said.

"But something tells me, I shouldn’t tread in your waters."

JJ looked at her with a questioning look.

"Come on, JJ. Something’s obviously different about you. You commandeered an Interpol jet. You’re profiling me."

JJ looked down and sighed. Emily continued.

"Why didn’t you say your transfer was a backstop?"

At that JJ’s expression turned to a confused one, indicating that what the other woman said was the truth.

"Oh, I know that look. The 'I can’t trust anyone, but myself' look. I invented it."

Emily added, trying to make it sound funny, but ultimately, it still came out serious, because it was true. JJ smiled at her slightly, but she looked sad.

"Do you ever feel like you’re in way over your head?" Emily nodded, wanting her to continue.

"I got assigned to an information hunt. Instead, I am chasing an unsub, who killed my informant."

"What would Hotch tell you to do?" Emily asked without hesitation. That’s how she found her way around during any investigation, ever since she joined the BAU.

"Focus on victimology, let behavior lead the way…"

JJ listed out loud.

"Exactly. Who did your unsub kill?"

"The one person I was getting through to."

"Why?"

Emily continued with her questions, seeing that they initiated JJ’s thought process.

"Because I was getting through to…" JJ said, frowning.

"I was getting through to her. What if she was about to expose her killer? Someone on the inside…"

Emily could tell that JJ needed somebody else to look at her situation and see it in from a different angle. JJ got really pensive, her eyes glued to some nonexistent point in space.

"It sounds like it's time for you to be the blackbird and flip the script." Emily said slowly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I guess it does." JJ said with a tiny smile, before getting up.

"Hey, why won’t you try and sleep at least a while? We won’t be landing for several hours, so…"

"Right. You should try and sleep too. I’ve been in a coma, so I caught some Zs, when you think about it. Medically induced ones, but still. You on the other hand must be exhausted."

Emily’s face was covered in grey, purple and yellow spots, but JJ’s face, even though not bruised, still indicated that she had a rough couple of days. She had bags under her eyes, her cheeks pale, instead of slightly flushed like they normally were, her face tired.

They both looked quite miserable.

JJ just smiled in response, but her eyes weren’t a part of that smile. Her eyes stayed sad.

She walked to another seat, so she could try and lie down.

Emily wanted to let JJ rest, because she suspected that by suggesting sleeping, she actually had an excuse to take a nap herself, even if it was supposed to last only few minutes. She deserved a good night sleep, Emily thought to herself, watching the blonde struggling to find a comfortable position. When she eventually succeeded, Prentiss leaned back in her own seat, looking out the window. Her chest was still burning, but she wouldn’t even flinch. Her eyes, almost independently from her will, landed on the other woman every couple of minutes. She watched JJ’s chest move rhythmically, until her breathing became really deep and really steady and she was without a doubt asleep.

She knows what’s happening,

Emily thought to herself.

And so does Hotchner.

Yet, they’re going to have to look at the rest being in pain and they’re going to have to pretend that they’re going through the same thing.

And when she thought about Hotch, it wasn’t that hard to imagine.

He would keep himself perfectly composed in pretty much any situation she ever saw him in.

He was able to calculate his next move without showing as much as a microexpression.

It could be a little unsettling sometimes, but then again when he was surrounded by his family, when he was with Jack, he would expose this softer and loving side of himself. Just a bit. It was quite the view.

Emily had no doubt that he was a good father. And a good man.

He really was great at planning, thinking ahead like no one else;

he had his way of smoothly dealing with issues that inevitably came up during their investigations.

All those things made him an incredible section chief.

Emily was certain that she could trust him with her life. And she did.

It would be hard for anyone to keep such a burdening secret from people you are constantly around.

Eventually, you could start believing the lie, but that also took dedication. It was even harder when you had to lie to people that were actually a part of your life, people that you were close to.

It’s one thing to be undercover and to keep a secret from people you’re trying to infiltrate. During such operations it felt justified to do that, choosing the lesser evil, the end justify the means and all that.

It’s a completely different thing to do that to your friends and family.

"The secret to getting away with lying is believing with all your heart. That goes for lying to yourself even more so than lying to another."

A quote by the author Elizabeth Bear, that she's memorized from reading her New Amsterdam series more than once. She was repeating it in her mind, not being able to stop.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. She knew that they made the right call. Still, it was just devastating, thinking what they voluntarily sentenced themselves to.

She tried to calm herself down with proper breathing. It helped.

Emily finally decided to try to sleep. She thought that since she was still medicated, she’d pass out easily, but that didn’t happen.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw faces of her team members. She felt like her chest was being crushed. Breathing didn't really help.

After what felt like forever of forcing herself to fall asleep without any luck, she opened her eyes and just kept them open. She focused her gaze on what was behind the window.

The clouds, barely visible in the navy skies.

She didn’t do it on purpose, but she realized that she started to dissociate.

And she let herself do it.

The numbness felt better than the stinging guilt.

She didn’t really register it, but tears left her eyes, falling on her lashes and cheeks, as her deep, dark eyes focused on the navy color in front of her, forty thousand feet above the ground.

She couldn’t tell how long it took, but only JJ’s turning in her sleep, simultaneously throwing a bag off the seat made Emily come back to reality. Blonde didn’t wake up. She looked really peaceful.

She thought about not seeing her for God knows how long. It stung, to a point of her gasping. Afraid, that maybe that could’ve woken her up, Emily wiped her tears away, but JJ’s eyes stayed closed. And these intrusive thoughts came back to roam inside her head.

Sure, JJ wouldn’t be with the BAU now, since she’s had that informant operation, but no doubt, she would still see them. They were a huge part of her life after all.

Emily watched her face, calm and soft, imaging it twisted in pain and grief, having to pretend one of their own was dead.

In her mind, JJ was one of the strongest people she knew. She was persistent, hardworking and incredibly professional, but she was also kind, nurturing and very loyal.

What she was doing for her at this very moment proved it perfectly.

She knew that JJ accepted her part in this plan on her own and if she were to start trying to talk her out of it (never mind that it was also too late for that at this point), she wouldn’t change her mind. To be fair, if they switched places, she would do the same for JJ, but still, she couldn’t stop worrying about the woman sleeping on a seat across from her.

Emily watched her friend and it brought her some sort of comfort, a feeling of safety.

She finally dozed off, trying not to think, but focused on JJ’s steady breathing instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Emily, we’ll be landing in about an hour."

She heard, opening her eyes, and she saw JJ standing in front of her, one of her hands on her shoulder.

"I thought you’d like to change before the transfer."

Emily’s hand landed on top of hers, holding both of them on her shoulder.

"Oh, right. Thank you, I…" she looked down at their hands, trying to focus. "We’ll have to say goodbye soon, right?" she blurted out, looking back at her face.

JJ sighed and sat down right next to her, not taking her hand away, but instead, intertwining their fingers and resting both their hands in Emily’s lap.

"Well, it seems so."

She smiled, but her eyes were reddened, filling with tears once again.

Emily’s gaze was glued to their hands, watching JJ’s wrist and fingers, so delicate right now, but perfectly capable of throwing a good punch. Her eyes stopped at the ring on her finger; Henry’s birthstone. She felt that strange feeling again, that warmth spreading throughout her body.

"It’s not going to last forever. We will find Doyle."

JJ mumbled out and Emily held her breath.

"I know, but… I will miss you so much."

Emily said, before instinctually putting her arms around blonde’s waist, to which she responded with wrapping her arms around her neck. JJ tried to be gentle, because of Emily’s condition, but brunette only held her tighter.

They were so close right now, that she could hear the other woman’s heartbeat. It was slightly elevated.

JJ pulled back just a little, so she could look at her face.

"I will miss you as well." she whispered, their eyes laid on each other.

JJ said the next sentence so quietly, that Emily could barely hear it.

"You’re very special to me, you know that?"

Emily wouldn’t be able to logically explain why she did what she did next, but somehow her hands ended up on both sides of JJ’s face and she leaned in, placing her lips on blonde’s ones.

She wasn’t thinking, but as she kissed her, the other woman immediately kissed her back. Emily felt soft palms cupping her face, her eyes closed. That kiss was filled with so much pain and longing and some kind of desperation.

But it made her whole body fill up with that warmth.

Emily wasn’t even sure what that was, so she tried to be gentle. She ended up kissing JJ in a somewhat shy manner, yet the other agent was deepening the kiss with each second, making it more and more passionate. Emily felt her back hitting the wall and a moan left her throat, captured by the kiss. JJ reacted by slowing down, moving her fingers across her face, running them through her hair. Emily was still cupping JJ’s face, her skin felt so soft and warm under her fingers when she brushed them across her cheeks. Their tongues slowly swirling around one another, this time Emily caused JJ to gasp, as she bit her lower lip. She responded with kissing brunette even more eagerly, so Emily brushed her fingers along her neck, resting them on her shoulders. One of her hands was caressing the skin covering JJ’s collarbone. At that she sighed, barely audibly, but Emily caught it. Her fingers moved towards the skin covering her breastbone.

JJ suddenly pulled back and broke the kiss, leaving both of them breathing heavily, blood flowing through their cheeks and lips.

Emily placed her hands back on JJ’s shoulders, she didn’t mean to make her feel uncomfortable.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she broke the silence.

"JJ, I…" she didn’t even know what to say. It wasn’t right. She had a loving husband, a family. She didn’t mean to ruin it for her.

"We don’t have to talk about this." she said quickly and Emily felt strange. She took her hands off of her shoulders and leaned back, so there was space between them.

"I… Dont… Look, if we won’t see each other for…"

She started, but her voice broke, when she realized what expression showed up on JJ’s face.

Regret.

Emily felt so many contradicting things in that moment, that she basically froze. JJ was looking away.

"You went through something traumatic, we all did. It’s only natural to crave human contact then. And it can present itself in many different ways. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine."

"JJ, it means… It means everything for me."

Emily choked out, placing her hand on top of blonde’s. JJ turned her hand, so she could squeeze Emily’s one between her fingers.

She smiled looking at their hands, but only for a fraction of a second. And then she took her hand away, only to look Emily straight in her eyes. She seemed sad, but also… Agitated.

"I can’t give you what you want, Emily." she said quickly, getting up.

"There’s too many reasons why. And… You have to leave."

JJ stated, sort of matter-of-factly.

Emily couldn’t really comprehend what just happened. But all of the pain, both physical and mental suddenly came back, not dimmed anymore.

This was… This wasn’t the time for this. Come on, Emily, it’s time to compartmentalize again. You used to be so good at this!

Well, before joining the team anyway.

"We’re landing in 15. You have to change, definitely cover up these bruises at least a bit." JJ continued talking, her voice morphing back to that task-oriented tone. She was taking clothes and makeup out of the bags, handing the items to her. "Hurry."

Emily felt like she couldn’t move, but she forced herself to get up and do what she needed to. They weren’t looking at each other and even though she wanted to scream, she kept perfectly quiet.

Compartmentalize. It’s not the time. It didn’t mean anything.

They landed and after JJ made sure that the right person was waiting outside to drive Emily to a safehouse, she stood in front of her and hugged her. Emily wasn’t really expecting that right now, since the atmosphere was so tense.

"I will miss you, no matter what." JJ whispered and even though Emily was so stunned from the pain and all around confused, she knew they couldn’t part without a proper goodbye.

"Thank you, for everything. Take care of them." Emily said and she embraced her tightly, one last time. Emily wanted to say that she’ll miss her like crazy, but it felt both like too much and not enough.

She didn’t want to let them turn this into a final goodbye.

"Of course. I will see you soon, okay?" JJ smiled and Emily smiled back. It wasn’t the best forced smile, but she just couldn’t do better in that moment.

"Goodbye, Jennifer." she said sounding way too official, taking a first step out.

"Goodbye, Emily."

Prentiss turned away and quickly made her way to the parked car.

She saw JJ’s face one last time through the tiny window.

The car left the landing strip and disappeared in the night.

„Goodbye, Emily.” she thought to herself, as she caught her own reflection in the side mirror.

„Goodbye, Emily.”

JJ whispered, placing a red rose on the coffin.

33 notes · View notes

mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake × mc fanfic #viotence tw #physical attack tw #coma tw #blood tw #panic attack tw #please read the warnings carefully!!#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Guns and Roses (Assassinator Yuta x you)

A quicky imagine scenario i am trying to challenge myself (4 am thoughts)

a/n ; mentions of killing, a killing demand, and much assassinator related. do not follow anything written here, it’s pure fiction and I don’t recommend you to read if those topics do not suit your taste. Mentions of rape, sorry but please do not force yourself to read this.

The theme is a bit dark but it’s basically fluff I guess- idk you name it after reading (just be sure you are not bothered by the warning)

no tags because this theme is sort of the darkest I made (said the girl who tried to make a superm mafia au in wattpad please check them out lol, but anyways it’s me trying new genre tell me if i should stop because this suck)

----

You curled up beside the red-raven haired man laying down on the bed next to yours.

With a wild grin, you crawl on top of his well built strong body and plant a small kiss on his cheek.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

He sighs and opens his eyes “Who do you want dead this time?”

You chuckle, “Do you think I only say that when I need you to kill someone? Am I that cold hearted , Yuta?”

Yuta, the best private assassinator who was first sent to kill you but instead fell for you, gently roll you over his body so you were under him.

“Listen, as much as I hate to admit it, yes you are cold hearted. You asked me to finish a lot of people honey.” his soft gaze falls to your eyes.

Your lips tremble, “So are you not going to help me?”

He closes his eyes one more time and shakes his head, “You shouldn’t mess with this job-”

he taught you on how to be a great assassinator, Yuta saw the potential in your soul when he was ordered to finish you that one cold night. He remembered your fierce bravery to not simply accept death.

“I will go and finish them by myself then-” you blurt out the words with emotion.

Yuta holds your hand and pins you down on the bed before you can leave the bed full of emotion, “Listen, who are they I will finish it for you.” he sounds hopelessly strict but still soft and caring.

You throw your gaze to the other side, “My parents.”

Yuta groans, “Not them, we’ve talked about this.”

You shake your head, “They have tortured me Yuta! They sent you to kill me, just because I- I-” your lips trembled and you cannot finish your sentence.

Yuta quickly falls to your side and pulls you into a hug, he runs a hand through your back and caresses your hair. “You don’t have to talk about it if it only brings pain to you.”

You bite your lips and suck your tears up. “They were ashamed of me, if it was - not for that unfortunate night... It- it was rape! I didn’t want it.” your red eyes look into his calm but painful eyes.

Yuta kisses your temple, “I know, I know it is hard for you...”

“They locked me up in the attic, they pretended I was not their family, they wanted to kill me slowly but because I- I don’t know why I still live with that condition- they sent you to kill me. How can I forgive them?! Shouldn’t they offer me a safe place after that horrible traumatic incident.” your hand slowly hits his sturdy chest constantly.

Yuta remembers clearly the night he was ordered to kill you, he saw your small fragile dying body on the cold street, running an errand to buy some groceries, Yuta thought this was gonna be quick and clean, but he couldn’t bring his finger to pull the trigger when he sees how pained yet afraid you were in the cold lonely world.

So he did what he never even expected himself to do, faked your death and brought you into his secret house. You were trained to protect yourself but Yuta kept maximum security around you.

“They are still your parents, you cannot finish them.” he whispers to your ear.

“I hate them, and I hate you for not allowing me to finish them.”

“No honey, I will never let you! Those clean hands should never have blood on them, even worse your own family’s.” he gently takes your hands into his, giving it a small squeeze and kisses the knuckles lightly.

“I also will not do your wish, you were emotional and you will regret this choice. Trust me, I’ve seen people regret their choices and I don’t want that to happen to you. Now, if you want, I can make you some hot chocolate drinks and we can cuddle for the night.” Yuta pulls you to stand up.

Your face still shows no emotion, but Yuta pulls you up and carries you to the kitchen.

“I know I cannot heal your heart, but I hope this warm chocolate can at least make you feel better tonight.” Yuta stirs the small spoon in the warm glass and hands it to you.

You gulp it down and your tension goes down, you suddenly cry and Yuta lets you have your time. He only sits across you while giving you the tissues to wipe your tears.

Once you don’t have tears left, you look at him and he smiles “Better?”

You nod “Can I go to the beach tomorrow? I want to let my stress out.”

Yuta nods in a heart beat, his hand extends to tuck your hair away from your face “We can! I am free this week.” He lies to you without doubt.

Tonight he actually had to do a task, but seeing you like this made him stay back. After all your safety and feeling come first, he would blame himself if you ever did something so silly both of you will regret.

“Don’t lie, I saw your planner you actually have one tonight.” you speak slowly between hiccups of your sobs.

Yuta smiles “I’ll accompany you to bed and wait for you now until you are calm, then I’ll think of a way. Don’t worry about me.”

Your smile come back to your face just a little but its there “Thank you Yuta, I am glad you stopped me, you’re right I may regret my decisions.”

He leans over to kiss your lips, “I know the feeling darling, don’t hesitate to let your emotions out okay. Now do you want to sleep or you want to do something?”

You pull his hand to follow you to the bed, “Cuddle me please?”

He giggles “One cuddle coming through, my princess.”

“Stop staring,” you say as you yawn while waking up from your deep sleep.

Yuta quirks his eyebrow, “I am not staring.”

You groan “Yes you are not, you’re gawking over me...” you move your body to face him. Judging by how neat his hair is and his body is covered with another tee shirt, you knew Yuta has been awake for long.

“Did you finish it?” You ask

He smiles “I did not do the last task. I resigned from the company, I decided to stoop doing this.”

You want to question him why, but you know he has his own reasons and he will tell you once he is ready. For now, you will just accept his choices, for Yuta is the better one in making choices.

“What are you going to do then?” you look up into his pretty face.

“I will enjoy a break and maybe start my own flower shop.”

You scoff “From assassinator to a florist! You really have many surprises.”

He kisses your lips quick, “Both are sexy, and you know I love flowers.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever, I love you!”

He grins, “Do you want me to make you a bouquet now?”

You laugh, “Did you always associate my i love you with a request of your job?!”

He shrugs his shoulder, ‘I don’t know, you’re hard to understand!”

You flick his head “Say that again and I’ll finish you.”

He rolls over on top of you and his eyes glint with lust “Not before I finish you.” he licks his lips and winks to you.

end

#yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #yuta x you #imagine yuta #yuta fluff #yuta headcanons #yuta drabbles #yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta oneshot #yuta fanfic #nct 127 mafia au #nct 127 imagines #nakamoto yuta imagines

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32 🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

click here to be on the update list

PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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meichenxi · 4 years

Text

*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid.

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story.

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice.

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose?

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then.

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some.

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind.

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them.

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that.

suddenly, no one sees her at all.

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own.

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are -

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway.

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things??

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity.

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me.

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time.

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved.

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most.

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily.

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life.

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good.

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side.

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #giftedness #gifted kids #tag for this fucking awful school system?#neurodivergent kids #parenting #education #long post #meichenxi rants #mental health #trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #sorry for the scary tags I don't mean the post to be scary I'm just annoyed #and it got longer than I thought it would

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