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randoauthor · 2 years

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Love Letters to No One (B.B)

Part 7: Give Em' Hell

Pairings: Rooster x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Maverick x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SO many, 18+ for sure, minors DNI. Sex, Oral!Fem reviving, probably some others. Fluff, some swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note: Here's part 7! I had a blast writing this one so I hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry, it kinda ends on a cliffhanger.

Summary: Mav finally decides whos joining him.

MasterList!

Bradley and I stayed out until the sun was merely peaking over the horizon, headed home hand in hand to get even a mere moment of sleep.

By the time we had stumbled into the briefing room that following morning dad was nowhere to be found. The pilots we standing or sitting a flurry of soft talking filled the room before Admiral Simpson came in causing all of us to take our seats.

"Captian Mitchell is no longer the Captain in charge of this mission." He said. The blanket of silence fell heavily upon the room. The Admiral was happy with the response we were giving him, I felt Bradley's arm reach for me as the breath was sucked from my lungs.

What happened to my father?

I go to stand up as Bradley's grip tightened, his eyes drifting from the Admiral to the screen behind him where a small blinking light appeared, signally that someone was running the course.

It was him.

Dad's voice comes through the intercoms, he's running the course.

That course was not even I could complete. I glance quickly around the room each and every pilot staring in awe at what my father is doing.

No one has ever completed the course and in a minute fifteen no less. Admiral Simpson gave an all-knowing smile and that's when I knew dad was gonna be in deep shit.

And he absolutely was.

But at the same time, dad walked out of Simpson's office with a smile bigger than the day of his wedding.

"Dad?" I say as I see him exit the office, he turned to me before running over to give me tight hug.

"Let's go do this mission." That was all he said before quickly stalking off.

That night I put on my very best outfit before I heard a honk to signal to me that Bradley was here. I threw on my mom's old aviator jacket before running downstairs, kissing my dad on the cheek, and headed out the door.

Bradley was waiting by his car for me with a bouquet of flowers, a big smile plastered to his face as I kiss his cheek, climbing into his car.

"Where are we headed Braddles?" I ask after he climbs into the car, he flashes me his signature smile before saying very proudly.

"Sailing Away."

Dear Bradley,

I hate the water. I hate that I can't see the bottom of the ocean and I hate to think about what might be lurking below me. I think that is why I always enjoyed flying because I knew whatever was in the water couldn't get me when I was all the way up there. I still can't believe I got into the Academy, I feel like Uncle Tom may have had a say in it because honestly, I feel like it probably would have been better if the Academy had just turned me away, banishing any form of Pete Mitchell offspring seems like a smarter idea then accepting me and just praying that I am nothing like my father. It's a poor decision really because what they don't know is I am exactly like my father and they are absolutely screwed. I wish you could be here to see it. I wish you were here to experience this stuff with me. Dad says you'll come around eventually but with the fact that your letters are growing less and less frequent, I highly doubt that.

Hopefully one day I can take you into the sky. I can show you what I am made of, I need to prove to someone that I am better than my father.

I wish you all the best Braddles,

Lem

I will always kick myself for never sending him the letter where I said I hated water.

I shutter a little at the thought but there is no turning back now. Yet somehow I feel surprised when we pull up to a bar that is not *at all* the ocean. But a small dive bar called Sailing Away. Country music poured out from inside and I watched as Bradley's eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

"What is this Bradshaw?" I shoot at him playfully.

"This my lovely date is a Line Dancing Bar. And we are going dancing." He says very proudly of himself.

There are two things in this world I hate:

The ocean or any deep water.

Dancing.

Bradley and I use to joke when we were younger that it wouldn't matter if I had a wedding or not because I wasn't gonna dance regardless.

"Bradley," I say calmly, looking at him. "I would rather give you head the go into that bar and dance."

And somehow those simple words got him and me back in the car, and in a safe hurry back to his barracks room.

He didn't even wait to get us past his door before I was being peppered with kisses from my lips down to my neck.

"You taste so good Lem," He mumbled into me as he shut his door behind us, pushing me up against it to make sure it latched. I let out a soft whimper as his hand slipped under my shirt, finding my boobs in no time as my head tilted back to meet the door.

"Fuck Bradshaw," I whine as he picks me up with ease setting me down gently on the bed before hovering above me. I grab him by his neck and pull him down to meet me again, our lips colliding in a frenzy as he tries to take my top off. I help him a little before fumbling with the hem of his shirt pulling it quickly over his head before finding his lips again and pulling at his bottom one with my teeth.

This drives him wild.

In a mere matter of moments, Bradley has removed my bra and while his lips attack my tongue, his hand goes to find a boob playing gently with my nipple. I squirm slightly but the mere pressure of him above me stops me from going too far. Bradley gives me a soft smile before gently removing his hand to rest it on my cheek.

"I am so sorry Lem," He said gently, I look up at him to meet his eyes which have since glazed over.

"Bradley," I say gently, before giving him a soft kiss."Make up for it."

Bradley meets my gaze with a surprised look. And for the first time ever I am the one who makes the first move.

Our lips crash together and I somehow manage to flip us over, his shocked gasp made me laugh, his shirt came off with ease and I spend a minute admiring his chest, scars that I remember him getting and scars that appear to be new since I've seen him last.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He teased at me, I shut him up quickly by grinding down on his still-clothed bottom half, he let a low groan rip through him and his head tilts back. A whimper threatens to spill past my lips but I manage to stay quiet.

"Lem," he warned, "If I am not in you in one way or another here very soon I am gonna flip us." I let a mischievous smirk fall upon my mouth as I moved again, this time letting a whimper fall out, and in a matter of mere moments, I was under him again, except this time my pants were coming off, leaving me in just my panties. Bradley hovered over me for a moment before moving down to my heat below. I move a little as I feel his fingers move my panties aside his lips leaving marks along my inner thigh. His kisses grow closer and closer to my core and my hand finds his curly hair to tangle themselves in.

And I just about came undone when his tongue finally licked a long slip up to find my clit before sucking on it gently. My back involuntary arching as my grip on his hair grew tighter, sending a groan to me, allowing an involuntary shutter.

"Bradley, as good as this feels, I want you," I whine,

"Lem, my love, you have me," He mumbled into me.

I shutter again.

"No Bradley," I pull on his hair enough that he'll look at me, "I want you in me."

Bradley's eyes grew wide as he fumbled to meet me face to face attacking me with a bunch of kisses as he tried to remove his pants faster than he was.

His jeans came off with ease, and his boxers on the other hand were still on.

"I want these off Bradley," I say through breathless gasps. He didn't miss another minute before discarding his boxers and removing my underwear with ease.

"I will stop if I need to Lem," He said softly, I nodded as I felt himself push into me, my head fell back my eyes fell closed.

And holy shit did he feel amazing.

He let out a soft moan as I give him the okay to move, he starts off slow. Each thrust was used as a way to apologize for everything he has put me through. Each thrust grew harder, and each thrust grew more impatient. I could feel myself nearing my climax and at the same time, Bradley's moments told me the same thing. In a whirlwind of moans, skin slapping against each other I somehow managed to find his lips. I kiss him with passion in a need I haven't experienced in my life before.

"Bradley, I'm gonna-" He responded by quickening the pace and letting my climax rip through me. He followed shortly after before collapsing next to me and pulling me close.

"I love you, Lem," He said softly as I nuzzle into his warmth.

"I love you more, Bradley," I say with a yawn before letting myself fall asleep.

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

I awoke the next morning with a start, panicking as I throw on whatever clothes I could find that was mine. Thankful that my locker in the hanger has clothes in it.

"Bradley, we have to go," I say in a panic before we rush out of his room and into his car, practically speeding to base.

Rushing into the briefing room praying that we weren't noticeably late. That prayer however wasn't answered as we earned glances from everyone in the room.

"Next time," Admiral Simpson says, "come in one at a time, it makes it less obvious."

I feel my cheeks heat up as Bradley and I take our seats, watching as my dad steps up to the podium, preparing to give us the same speech we always get.

"Captian Mitchell," Simpson interrupts again, "just tell them who you pick."

My father nods before staring across the room.

"Dagger One will be Phoenix and Bob." The pair looked at each other shocked.

"Dagger Two will be Payback and Fanboy." The boys shared an excited grin.

"And who will be your wingman?" Simpson asked, I stood up straight, kept my head high, and waited for my name to be called. Dad looked at me and gave me a sad smile.

"Rooster."

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.

lol what

I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass

also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go

IIDA ANGST

Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida

meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”

“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still

“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT

yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue

okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol

LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL

“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then

oh, ouch

he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan

by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree

and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez

anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol

OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??

FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent

so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient

mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!

FUCK YEAH

okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?

in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no

oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!

poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol

omg. well that answers that

so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own

BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible

(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.

and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)

by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol

WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR

okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward

dskfjfkk

“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”

actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol

(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)

whoa lol wtf

MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT

-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK

“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao

and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices

poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg

“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS

FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU

THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami

okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces

um excuse me this is fucking awesome

wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk

TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY

WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE

and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji

KAMINARI OMFG

it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice

aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself

do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude

oh shit the mask!!

-- oh shit the feels

o(TヘTo)

fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...

and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance

(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.

incidentally, as @class1akids pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)

anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!

“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal

p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked

ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last

okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago

but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once

and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama

and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED

#bnha 320 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #asui tsuyu #tokoyami fumikage #kaminari denki #todoroki shouto #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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erule · 3 years

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The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1823

Warnings: frat boy Tom, angst, nakedness (nothing sexual though, no smut in this chapter), mention of sex, implied smut, cliffhanger at the end, jealous Tom, language, OC Oliver, violence (one punch), blood, plot twists.

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, I’m back! Have you seen Tom’s recent pics in Monaco?? He looked amazing! Anyway, I don’t know why, but I just had to write a fic with frat boy!Tom, so enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Chapter 1

Break up with my ex girlfriend

Frat parties. Am I right? Worst part of college life. A lot of people drink to forget about their grades and how their lives went wrong, while someone’s just hoping to have some fun with them (if you know what I mean). For the first year, I hated them with passion, but it was before I met him. At a frat party. Oh, the irony! And then, frat parties were the only chance I had to actually talk to him. It didn’t take us long enough to start dating. I think that adults tell you fairy tales to make you grow up with a hope, the hope to find your real happy ending, your true love. Well, I wasn’t used to believe in them, but the year I spent with Tom… that was close to the definition of happy ending. The problem with happy endings? They don’t tell you what happens after them. And that’s because they’re a nightmare.

“Tell me that now or you’re not gonna find me in this bed tomorrow”, he says and there’s a part of me that wants to die right here and right now. I shake my head. I don’t want to do that. Not because I don’t feel anything for him, but I’m scared that this will complicate things between us and it’s the last thing I want. “Are you serious, Y/N? You really think that saying something like that during sex doesn’t count? Calling someone on the phone means something, even if you’re drunk as Hell. So tell me what you really feel about me right now or I swear, I’m out of this room. I’m out of this kind of weird relationship that’s going on between us for years,” Tom says and the veins on his arms draw a beautiful map on his body, in which the moles are cities and his eyes are volcanoes. They’re burning, unlike my skin, that is freezing because I’m not wearing anything at the moment. Except for my shame, perhaps. My insecurities, that never leave me. Even in front of Tom.

“You don’t mean that,” I try to say, my mouth dry. But he’s insanely angry. In another situation, it would be hot.

“I do, Y/N,” he replies. I swallow. His expression softens, like he’s in pain. He comes closer to me, brushing my cheeks with his hands. My eyes are full of tears. His words feel like a prayer on my skin. “Please, tell me”.

And even if I don’t wanna do that, my hands are tied. Even if that’s a lie. I remain in silence. One second after that, he’s gone. Tom always keeps his promises, after all.

2 months before

Harrison sat down with a strange look on his face. It only meant one thing for Tom: trouble. He sighed, throwing away the third cigarette of the day. Jacob raised an eyebrow, trying to get rid of the stench of smoke with one hand.

“I thought you wanted to quit smoking,” Jacob said.

“Relax, I only smoke before finals now,” Tom said. “What’s up, mate? Come on, talk”.

Harrison raised a corner of his lips in a smirk.

“Rumor has it, that Oliver’s got a girlfriend,” he said.

“No way!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom said, laying on the grass with his hands behind his neck, glancing at a couple of girls who were passing by.

“I haven’t said the best part yet, though,” Harrison continued. Jacob urged him to speak further. “He’s gonna throw a party for his birthday and he’ll introduce her to his friends. But since we’re his friends, I was wondering why I haven’t told us anything about this gal in weeks. So I played Sherlock Holmes for a couple of hours and I found out that… we actually know this girl,” he said.

“I bet she’s someone of the campus,” Tom joked, as if it was obvious.

“I bet she’s someone’s ex girlfriend,” Jacob replied.

Harrison remained quiet, but he was smiling.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tom said, astonished, while sitting on the grass again.

“I won!” Jacob yelled.

“Who’s she? I hooked up with…”

“Ex girlfriend, Tom. It’s not some random girl you hooked up with. She’s someone you remember very well,” Harrison said.

“So we’re talking about me, uh? Well, let’s see… is it Janine? We lasted two weeks, I wouldn’t be mad about her,” he shrugged. Harrison swallowed.

“It’s someone you would be mad about,” Jacob guessed. “And there’s just one person that you would be mad about”.

Tom’s eyes widened at the realization.

“He’s fucking dead”.

Two days after that conversation, here they were: the three of them were laying with their backs on the wall like they were sustaining it from falling down. Tom had threatened Oliver with a Dare to explain, mate?, but his answer was just an I’m sorry Tom, but she’s just your ex. I don’t have to ask for your permission. Or does this mean that you’re still not over her? So, since Tom values too much his pride, he said that he was over her and that Oliver was right, he didn’t have to ask for his permission. Oliver apologized for not telling him that before and then walked away, leaving Tom to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes. Tom was watching Oliver talking with Elizabeth, one of your friends, when he saw you and Zendaya arrive at the party. In his opinion, you were stunning. You immediately caught his gaze. You just never failed to amaze him, even after a year. His heart ached at the view, but it ached even more when you greeted Oliver. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, clenching your hand in a fist. It seemed like you were uncomfortable. So, he came up with a plan to save you.

“Wait for me here,” he said to his friends, then he walked fast to reach you. “Hey mate, happy birthday!” Tom said to Oliver, who hugged him.

“Thanks, Tom. I think that you already know Y/N, Lizzie and Z,” he said and you smiled along with your friends, even if you looked more surprised than happy.

“Of course, I do,” Tom said, looking directly at you. You looked down. “Could I please talk to Y/N? We haven’t been in touch for quite some time and I’d like to catch up with her,” he asked.

“Sure!” Oliver said, while Zendaya seemed looking at you with a concerned expression. You winked at her.

Tom made you move away from Oliver by brushing your back, walking to the next exit. He lowered his voice in order to talk with you only, speaking to your hear: “You look ravishing, darling”.

He noticed that you closed your eyes for a very long second, but you didn’t say a word about that.

“Are you here to show that you still own me or something?”

“I don’t own you, darling. You’re absolutely free to do anything you like,” he said, lighting a cigarette outside the building.

“Z said you wanted to quit smoking,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I only smoke before finals”.

“Finals were yesterday,” you replied.

“Are we here to talk about me or you? I noticed that you were uncomfortable with Oliver, but I thought that you were his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

You smirked.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re jealous”.

“Nah, If I’d be jealous, you would know, trust me,” Tom said, with a playful tone.

“What would you do?” You asked, curiousity eating you alive. You wanted to know so bad if he still had feelings for you.

“Don’t play with fire, darling. You’re gonna burn your pretty hands, otherwise,” he replied, running a finger over his lip. Shivers ran through your spine, but you hoped that Tom didn’t notice it.

“Don’t try to seduce me, Holland. You’re not gonna win this time,” you said, chuckling. “And for the record, we’re not dating. He’s just insistent,” you explained.

Tom looked inside and saw Oliver staring at the two of you. An idea came up into his mind and he couldn’t quite get rid of it. It was smart, but also terrifying. It was very dangerous, yet he had to try.

“We could be in a fake relationship. It could fool everyone,” he proposed.

You turned to look at him, astonished.

“Even after what happened?”

Tom’s eyes were locked with yours, but his facial muscles didn’t move at all. If he still was hurt by the reason that made you two break up, he didn’t show it to you.

“He’s coming here,” he said instead, glancing at Oliver.

“Tom, this is insane,” you kept going. “You said you couldn’t forgive me after…”

It happened all too fast. All the lights went out at the same time. Tom's lips were on yours in an instant. Everything was on fire, every inch of your body. Every cell your flash was made of exploded like a dying supernova. A moment later, someone snatched him from your hands, leaving you in the cold.

Oliver hit him. Tom laughed, nervously, but then he grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt and slammed him against the wall, angrily. You pounced on Tom, trying to pull him away from Oliver. At first, Tom looked at you confused, thinking that you just wanted to keep Oliver safe from him, but your eyes told him another story: you prevented him to be kicked out from the campus.

“I told you, you’d know,” he said, while wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, pretending to be the tough guy he wasn’t.

“Guys, I think we should leave,” Jacob said, while Harrison was taking Tom away from Oliver by his arm.

“I thought we were friends, Tom,” Oliver said, an inch of hurting in his voice tone.

“That was before you came after the only thing I care about,” he said harshly. And then, he left with Harrison and Jacob.

That night, while Tom was cleaning himself of blood in the bathroom, Jacob was staring at him worried, while standing with one arm against the door jamb.

“You never told me what happened, you know, with Y/N last year. Haz doesn’t want to tell me, he thinks it’s up to you. You said that you were over her, but I don’t think you are, since what you did tonight,” he said. Tom kept wiping away the blood from his shirt, ignoring Jacob’s words. “Why have you broken up with her, Tom? It seems pretty obvious that you’re still in love with her”.

Tom gulped, while looking at himself in the mirror. He had tried to bury all of his memories deep down, but it seemed that now the demons wanted to come back and play with him once again. Maybe it had finally come the time to confront them.

When he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse: “Because she cheated on me”.

Read chapter 2 here!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #frat boy tom holland fanfiction #frat boy tom holland #fratboy!tom holland #frat boy tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland ff #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland hc #erule's masterlist #peter parker x reader #tom holland

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shortprince-cos · 4 years

Text

The Woes Of An Emo

Summary: Virgil wants at least one rehearsal to not go wrong. Also, he's a simp. Also, I apologize in advance.

Warnings: Angst, mental breakdown, anxiety, swearing, miscommunication. Tell me if I need to ask anything else!

Note: Happy Asides day!!!! (hopefully it is, this was written in advance) Remember to tag your spoilers for a week and to respect everyone's opinions!!!!

{Masterlist} {Previous}

Chapter 7: Typical Day?

~~~~~

By next Monday, everyone knew that Patton and Logan were dating. They kept holding hands in the hallway, walking each other to class, and even flirting in front of everyone.

Virgil was a little jealous, though he didn't want to admit it. They were just so cute doing those couple-y things, and Virgil wanted to do that with someone. Well, not just someone, Princey and/or Roman.

Right. Roman. Virgil almost forgot about his crisis for a minute. He has confirmed that yes, he does apparently have a crush on Roman. Great. The guy he just rejected. Wonderful. The guy who probably didn't want anything the do with Virgil at the moment. Perfect.

How could he not, though? Roman, who got almost every lead in the musicals. Roman, who called teachers out on their unfairness. Roman, who's eyes lit up whenever he talked about Disney or musicals. Who could fight someone for hours if he had the motivation. Who, when he flirted, could drop his voice so unbearably low it sent shivers down Virgil's spine.

And oh goodness, Princey. Princey is amazing. He talks like he'll run out of time. Types like Virgil's the most important thing in the world. He also loves Disney and musicals and talks about them like theres no tomorrow. He just cares so much about Virgil, letting him vent about his anxieties, and even tells Virgil all of his deepest secrets and insecurities.

Oh, heh, guess we've been rambling, huh?

Needless to say, Virgil was not doing that good. The amount of stress was driving him mad. Everything was just too much; waiting for Princey to be better, trying to not get overwhelmed by Patton's friendliness, trying not to make everyone mad or disappointed with him, finding out he actually does have a crush on Roman, hoping Roman isn't mad at him, being the prop master for the musical, and even just schoolwork. It was exhausting.

By next Friday his dads wanted him to stay home and take a 'mental health day', but Virgil couldn't miss rehearsal or he'd probably get kicked from the show.

Speaking of the show, Virgil was currently sweeping up the auditorium seats when he heard a familiar voice.

"Virgil!" Gabi the stage manager called. "Please clean up the prop room, the actors messed up the organization."

"Yeah, sure. I'll lock up too, if you want?"

Gabi handed Virgil the keys. "You're a lifesaver, Virge. If we were getting paid, you'd get a raise."

"It's no problem." Virgil said bashfully.

"Thank you anyway!" Gabi said as she walked out of the auditorium.

So Virgil made his way over to the prop room, and started cleaning up the fiasco that the actors left behind.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes later when his phone buzzed, alerting him of a message.

He quickly looked at his phone to find a message from Princey! Virgil hasn't heard from him for awhile, so he was getting a little worried, but apparently he was doing a little better if he was talking to him again!

princeofyourdreams: call me please

Or not?

That was...not a normal message. Virgil's anxiety immediately spiked at the thought of calling Princey.

onthevirgeofananxietyattack: princey, u know how i feel about random calls

princeofyourdreams: i know im sorry but please

Virgil hesitated. Princey sounded not ok and obviously Virgil had to do something, but the idea of calling him was a lot to handle, especially when Virgil was, as his username said, on the verge of an anxiety attack because of everything going on at the moment, and one more bad thing could probably break him.

He hit call anyway.

"P-Princey?" Virgil asked nervously.

"Hey anx." Princey was obviously crying, and Virgil's heart shattered. But...something was familiar.

"Are you ok? What's wrong?"

"Everything. Everything's wrong. It has been for so long and I tried so hard to be ok but now I'm really not ok." Princey was full on sobbing now, and Virgil didn't know what he could do to help.

"Hey, hey. It's ok, just focus on my voice ok?"

Roman just sobbed more in response, and Virgil swore he heard an echo from somewhere.

It must be his imagination.

Virgil softened his voice. "Hey, Princey, it's going to be ok, whatever's wrong right now will be ok in the end, I promise."

"How-" He choked "How can you say that when-when you don't even know what's happening."

"Just tell me and I can help." Virgil wandered out of the prop room to pace while talking.

"If I tell you, you-you won't care. I'm surprised you don't not care already." He gasped for some more air as Virgil heard something shifting in the men's dressing room.

"Princey breathe." Virgil turned to the dressing room door. "I care about you. I promise. I won't stop caring about you for something like this."

Princey took a big breath. "THEN WHY ARE YOU PLAYING ME?!" He screamed, and so did the dressing room door.

Suddenly everything was silent except for the heavy breathing over the phone and through the door.

What did that mean? Was he mad at Virgil? What did Virgil do? And, oh yeah, was Princey actually behind that door?

Well, screw anxiety, theres only one way to find out.

He knocked on the door, and heard the knock through the phone.

"P-Princey?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Virgil took a deep breath and opened the door.

"...Hey, Virgil."

~~~~~

{Next}

HAHAHAHAHAHA THAT'S RIGHT! IT'S A CLIFFHANGER! Y'all knew the angst was gonna spill out at sometime, I'm just surprised that it took this long! Sorry this one is really short, I didn't really know what to do to get to this point. So I just wrote Virgil simping for two paragraphs lol

@irritating-lady-knight I hope you liked your small cameo! Surprise!

Thanks to @thefingergunsgirl (Emma! Ily!) for beta reading this chapter! It was a big help!!!!!

Taglist in reblog

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #kawaiikat54 fic #twoae fic #the woes of an emo fic #prinxiety fic #prinxiety #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #sanders sides high school au

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page-doctor-bekker · 3 years

Text

Rooftop - Part 1 (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) hey! i have a long ass one-shot and i kinda of want to make it lead off a lil bit of a cliffhanger so i've got part one here for you. this takes place a few days after this oneshot

Sarah grabs her white coat from her desk chair, and stares at the embroidery.

Sarah Reese, MD

Dept. of Psychiatry

She sighed, before retreating to the bathroom to tuck and dress. Even after her orchiectomy, tucking was still mildly uncomfortable. At least she had graduated from using tape to using a gaff, which was much more comfortable and easy to take off at the end of the day.

Once she was dressed, clad in a pair of relaxed, navy blue dress pants and a pale pink button-down shirt speckled with cartoonish images of various types of fruit, she grabbed her lab coat, and shrugged it on.

There was a mirror on her closet door, and she caught a glimpse of herself in it. She gulped, and stood in front of it, staring herself down.

She pressed the pad of her thumb against her jawline, and dragged her skin around in a feeble attempt to soften it. Her jawline led her to her chin, the cleft in it causing a pang of dysphoria in her stomach. She puckered her lips, trying to make them look fuller, but that only exacerbated her chin. She sighed, and gave up. It is what it is.

She let her hand fall to her side, and fiddled with her coat. After a moment, she scowled at herself.

“Move on, Sarah, just move on,” She mumbled to herself, taking a hair tie from her wrist and putting her hair up into an unintentionally neat bun. No matter how hard she tried, she could never succeed in creating a messy one. That required more finesse than she had.

She smiled at herself, although her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I am a good doctor,” She affirmed, “A good doctor who made a mistake,” She quoted Dr. Charles, the thought of him filling her with calm.

“And Ava,” She gave herself a confident look, “Is not worth my time. I don’t even like her anyways.”

She paused for a moment.

“Because I don’t like women,” She shrugged, “And someday I will meet a man who loves me for me.”

“Don’t give me that look,” She snapped at herself, “Just because I’m not cis doesn’t mean I can’t be straight.”

“And I deserve better than Ava anyways,” She opened her mouth, then closed it, like a fish. She opened it again, “Someone better who is a man. I will find the man for me. The only reason I think I like Ava is because I haven’t found the man for me. That’s okay. I’m only 26. Some people don’t get married until after 30.”

“I am a confident woman,” She declared, “A confident straight woman.”

She started to walk away, but she looked back.

“And i’m a good doctor,” She said, sharply.

She saw Dr. Charles outside the hospital, and he waved her over. She ran to catch up with him, out of breath by the time she arrived, “Hello Dr. Charles,” She tried to catch her breath, thinking about how insane she must look right now.

“Dr. Reese,” He greeted with a nod, “How was your break?”

“It was very good,” She announced, “I feel like I am making progress with myself. I am a good doctor! What happened was a mistake, and it doesn’t define my clinical skills.”

He looked at her skeptically, “Good.. Good,” He gave a smile, “In my experience, all you really need after a mistake is to treat a few patients successfully, so I’ve volunteered you to be in the ED this morning.”

Her heart sank.

“And then, when Maggie dismisses you for lunch, come see me in my office and we can chat about what you did differently today,”

Sarah nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets so she could fidget discreetly. If he knew I’m anxious, he might send me home again.

He gave her a pat on the back, “Holler if you need me. I’m just a page away.”

He left her at the doors to the ED and she took a deep breath, and smiled at the big red letters.

“Help! I need help!”

Go time.

She ran towards the direction of the voice, a large man in his mid-40s who was carrying a young girl, maybe 5 years old, in a bridal-style position.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Reese, I’m going to help you, tell me about your daughter,” She prompted, pressing two fingers onto the girl’s neck while awkwardly walking with the man.

“Ah, she’s my niece, Miranda Maxwell,” He corrected, “Uh, she’s almost six, she’s got a.. uh… Heart condition? She was born with it. Her mom said she sees a doctor here uh… Dr… Dr… Beaker? Brekker?”

“Dr. Bekker?” The name made Sarah’s heart flutter.

“Yes, that’s the one. Anyways, she collapsed today, and says her chest hurts, and she’s a bit blue around her lips and nails.”

Dr. Reese took Miranda from the man, and took a light jog into the emergency department. The man took off after her. Upon entering the ED, she called to Maggie, “Five years old with a congenital heart condition, chest pain, trouble breathing, rapid pulse, blue lips and nails, where do you want me?”

“Treatment five.”

Dr. Reese set the girl down on the bed and Monique rushed to start an IV, “Let’s get her on the monitors, and get her changed into a gown,” Sarah instructed, “And Maggie?”

Maggie looked up from where she was conversing with the girl’s uncle.

“Page Dr. Bekker, Miranda is a patient of her’s, and get Miranda’s parents here as soon as possible,” She looked back towards the girl, “Miranda? My name is Dr. Reese, I’m going to help you feel better.”

“It hurts,” She cried, clutching at her chest.

“I know, I know, we’re going to figure out why,” Dr. Reese cooed softly, before taking on a more serious tone with Monique, “Get a CBC, BMP, urinalysis, 12-lead EKG, and get her on oxygen until Dr. Bekk-”

“Talking about me?” Dr. Bekker startled Dr. Reese, “My ears were itching. Miranda, did you miss me? Is that why you’re back so soon?”

Miranda giggled through the pain at that, and Dr. Bekker smiled. Dr. Reese almost allowed herself to feel endeared by the rare display of kindness, but quickly regained composure.

“Maggie, where are we with her parents?”

“They’re on their way, but they said to do whatever it takes to help Miranda,” Maggie called back, and Dr. Bekker nodded.

“What seems to be the problem, Mindy?” Dr. Bekker pulled her stethoscope off of her neck, and pressed the drum to Miranda’s chest, and listened thoughtfully.

“I felt weird and then fell down. My chest hurts real bad,” She complained, “I can’t breathe.”

“Let’s get an echocardiogram,” Dr. Bekker noted to Monique, who nodded, and started to set up the ultrasound machine, “Does it hurt more when you breathe?”

Miranda shook her head.

She’s so gentle with her.

Sarah smiled.

“Okay, I’m going to look at your heart with this special tool, you’ve done this before,” Dr. Bekker assured, before squeezing the gel onto the girl’s chest and pressing the ultrasound wand down.

She can be gentle. And kind.

“Psych residents, I swear. God, isn’t anyone in this hospital competent?”

Sarah was shocked back to reality by Ava, who was snapping her fingers at her, “Dr. Reese? What tests did you order?”

“Uh… CBC, BMP, urinalysis, and a 12-lead-EKG?” She trembled, her voice seeming more questioning than answering.

“Okay,” She said quietly, focused on the ultrasound.

A few minutes of quiet later, Dr. Bekker put the wand away, “Clean her up, and,” Dr. Bekker looked back at Miranda, “And if I remember correctly, your popsicle of choice is cherry?” She winked at Miranda, removed her gloves, and helped herself to hand sanitizer off the wall. Dr. Reese nodded at Monique, who was wiping the girl off, and left as well.

“Um…” Dr. Reese started, “What do you think?”

“Transfer her up to the PICU and let me know when her parents get here,” Dr. Bekker told Maggie, before turning to Dr. Reese, “I think she’s in congestive heart failure,” She shrugged, “Did you see the ultrasound? She has a complete atrioventricular septal defect, she’s been my patient for the past year, we knew this was coming.”

“Why didn’t you operate earlier?”

“Her parents wanted to wait,” Ava shrugged and rolled her eyes, “Nobody wants to put their four year old daughter through open heart surgery. But now,” She gestured back towards the room, “Their five year old daughter is going to go through open heart surgery today.”

“Well is she going to be okay?”

“If I can get her in for- I’m sorry,” She interrupted herself, “Why do you care?”

“She’s…” Sarah balled part of her coat up in her hand, “She’s my patient, I just-”

“Not anymore she’s not,” Ava huffed, “Thanks for not killing her. Wish I could say the same for Mr. Nearling.”

Ava flounced off.

Sarah watched her leave, and turned to Maggie, who pointed at treatment 1.

“Ear infection.”

Dr. Reese nodded, grabbing the tablet the charge nurse was holding out, and heading to treatment 1.

By lunch, she had treated three ear infections, a gunshot wound, a miscarriage, and sent a psychosis patient up to the psych ward. By the time Maggie sent her off for her lunch break, she had practically forgotten about Ava.

Dr. Charles was waiting for her when she opened the door to see him, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, “How was it?”

“Uh, good,” She sat across from him, and he pulled out his own lunch while she unpacked hers, “I saw Dr. Bekker.”

“Oh? How was that?”

Sarah tapped her foot, “One of her CHD patients came in, um…” She took a bite of her sandwich, “I ordered some tests for her. She was snarky about it when I talked to her afterwards though.”

Dr. Charles shrugged, “Well, Ava will always be Ava, regardless of-”

“She said, um… She thanked me for not killing the patient and said she wished she could say the same for Mr. Nearling.”

He sighed, and nodded, “Well, it’s only been a few days. She’ll get over it. You guys were good friends before, you’ll be good friends after a while..”

“Good friends?” She questioned, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, y’know,” He motioned back and forth with his hands, “You’d chat, you seemed to be happy when you saw her, she teased you a bit. All of Ava’s telltale friendship signs.”

Sarah was quiet, instead choosing to take a bite of her sandwich and chew thoughtfully.

“Tell me, Sarah, do you like Ava?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, carefully.

“Like… You know, are you interested in her? Romantically?”

Sarah choked on her sandwich, coughing a few times.

“Remember to chew, Dr. Reese,” Dr. Charles reprimanded.

“I don’t like her,” Sarah defended, “I don’t care about her. I deserve better. If I still liked her after she talked to me like that, even if I liked her in the first place, I’d be crazy.”

Dr. Charles shrugged, taking a bite of his salad.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

��What?”

“The shrug.”

“What do you think it means?”

“Did you do Yolanda’s intake?”

“Who?”

Sarah nodded, stuffing her half-eaten lunch back into the bag and tossing it in the trash.

“Sarah, you haven’t finished your lunch-”

“Not hungry, I’ll see you around,” Sarah started to leave, but Dr. Charles stopped her.

“I’m supposed to pass a note on for you.”

(A/N) come back tomorrow for pt 2 lol

#chicago med #transfemme!sarah #my au #honestly i dont like this but some of the contextual stuff is necessary #whatever

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ibelonginthepast · 3 years

Note

okay I need your klance fic recs(i feel like you have really good taste)(i mean your icon is literally THE keith of course you have god tier taste)

okay so the thing is.. that when i say am kinda messed up and disgusting sometimes... and becoming a madwoman... am not over exaggerating or saying it in a funky way.. i actually am getting like that .. and that's how i got into the klance fandom initially. i project through lance and read really langsty fics.. and they are messed messed with like violent nsfw, gore, horror, serious mental health issues etc? so if u want those... i'll only send them if u want?

yeah tho i entered with this thingy that klance is gonna be like my guilty pleasure or some shit but them i inevitably fell in love with some GORGEOUS fanfictions out there and KEITH KOGANE in all shapes sizes genders and ages so lol...

but they aren't flowery. that's just not my taste. Some of them might be "problematic"? it's in quotes because i don't agree with it. it's not going to be problematic in plain ignorant sense like racial issues or blatant sexism or mental abuse.... but they might have like stuff which people dont always agree with like drugs. most of them would have nsfw it's just something that i need to have for feels and that's why i asked if u minded it. some things are like more subjective,, characterizations for example, cause like some people dont think keith is a skirt guy cause he isnt in fashion but i think he is petty and rebellious so he will defo do that? some of them would have like physical fights and stuff.. or keith and lance being mean to each other.. some ugly habits which aren't necessarily condemned like anger or drugs.? but with how i see it, it's not glorified, so i see them as human. i love the raw and ugly in these or idk its just human to me (but some people dont like which is completely valid cause we are all different from different environments and think different and resonate with different stuff.)

wait addition: i think some of them will have sexist themes? which i have complained about a lot before. i dont know why authors feel the need to somehow put women down to show how a mlm relationship without any women is superior or some shit it's annoying as fuck i hate it. i dont think i would have any especially sexist fics here, but there might be some with lowkey themes and bad handling of those issues. some of them mau have that subtext of disgusting heteronormative standards, but in subtext uk like bottom lance having a small waist and being giggly and all in contrast to big bulk keith.

here are some that i had bookmarked... but i may remember some more and then send them to u and or add them here...

a heads up.. i dont remember all of them very well. its been a while and i read fanfictions A LOT so yeah.. incase one slips up here which isnt very good am sorry dont judge me

the bold ones are the ones u should really check out if our taste is similar.

to begin with plain f l u f f,, my first klance bookmark was How Could I Say No? by Padfoots_Pawprint. tws for violence, bullying, injury BUT it's not actually gory or something like that it's just keith being keith and getting hurt and lance helping my boi like he should. it made me feeeeeeeel ksksk

this was one that kinda really touched me,, Wasted youth, Cryptids, and Waterboys by Baea THIS HAS EXPLICIT NSFW in it, the first chapter kicks off with it.. its a good fuck buddies to lovers in my opinion.. i love the writing style, the choice of how it's just a couple entries of random days in their lives. i love keith's characterization.. he is a hobo and a conspiracy nerd.. i love how down for him lance is, very dedicated. i love their growth.. i love how they help each other grow,, and it's so like real and usual day to day and human and down to earth idk how else to express it. this is INCOMPLETE. it's 12 chapters and discontinued as of now,, but it's not a deadly cliffhanger

similar in style and approach to the above. tho i think here is where it gets dubious. Easy, Tiger. by @/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot ... this is INCOMPLETE too and as of now discontinued. this has that sorta murky vibe with it's drug usage, them being teenagers in school and engaging in stuff like this, bad boy keith and all. this has nsfw too. i just remember really liking it and its very raw and unfiltered. tho it's incomplete it's not an open ending for now.

okay so i am restarting this but am upset as fuck that it all got deleted so i am gonna be lazy and not put as much effort as i did.

i have also Crowd Pleaser bookmarked by the same author,, this one's complete and it has some serious issues around gaslighting if i remember correctly... i really liked it then. keith is literally an angel here, i want to kidnap him and marry him literally. the s h w ee t e s t shit ,, and i like how lance gives him all the support and space to get his shit together

Drummer boy by klancekorner,, i think it's similar to the prev one, but lance's pov(which is what i prefer ngl). this authors fanfics are all just wholesome. i had put links to all their fics before, but imma now just say that u should go and check all their fics out. i have them all bookmarked, i must have seen something in them (can't remember what now tho and i cant be bothered to skim through them like last time *rolls eyes*)

War of hearts? idk why honestly, just ik keira has made me gay, and lesbian rejection angst? garrison? yes :) it's incomplete, conveniently left at the point where lance's heart is broken lol

Fuck buddies with benefits. THE NAME IS BAD I KNOW but i just love the idea of a dedicated mess of a keith and lance taking care of him. that's it that's the fic if i remember correctly. oh wait yeah u might think keith is not treating lance right, but i think it's fine if lance is treated a bit stupid. this is a bit too sex driven tho i dont like it but just SLEEPDEPRIVED KEITH TO TAKE CARE OF IMMA SIGN UP (ik this maybe coming off toxic but lol look at me)

Rambling: THIS WAS ME.

Last Defense: TW SUICIDE this is literally the langst i have for canon lance

I want something else: bad boy keith can break my limbs and cut my face and i will thank him

A thank you would be nice: keira damn

game-set-match: b a d b o y

I swear to go the devil made me do it: my typically fav trop, hardcore pining lance, literally perfect angsty keith. very similar to the top ones ig? idk also this one is one of my comparatively recent sane bookmarks so that's something. it starts off weird, u think it gon be subtly sexist but it turns out better so hold on

you've got me locked up: i think it's delinquent keith,, its floofy

Dad lance and tattoo artist keith: the name says it

damn while going through my bookmarks i realized that there are a lot of things i never bookmarked? i am pretty sure i loved a lot of long fanfictions, flower shop aus and tattoo artists shit wtf-

wait here's one, it's not complete: Blood jumps in the sun: it's very heavy has a lot of growth and kinda wholesome,, tags and summary will give u an idea what u getting in.

The lessons we learned: can't remember much other than florist keith, sad keith, smart keith, really long, pining

damn i think i have a lot of happy ones i didn't bookmark cause my brain was like u dont deserve the serotonin :( i'll add if i have more)

some actually angsty, detailed nsfw and messy (according to the way u interpret these) ones... lemoninagin.. they have some very detailed and explicit nsfw stuff but i am not there for it. some of it has the kind of angst i like? an actual one that i love and they recently posted and the reason am putting them here is infinitesimal. best friends to lovers and tho usually it's not my cup of tea.. it's a character study, an interpretation of klance in a modern world i dare say,, which is very similar to mine. the thing about them is that i like their characterization a lot, and in no love in this, i like what kind of background stories they give to klance in their aus. i haven't read many by them, so if u want u can check them out.

i just realized i have put some lowkey sad/fucked fics here... i did remove 5 rn... i hope its all good damn why am i doing this i feel like am putting myself naked out there when i recommend my favs

#dont reblog

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 6]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there’s no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Well, this one is a dozy. There's plenty of angst, a dash of sickeningly sweet fluff and vague mentions of sex, but blink and you'll miss it. (Just be mindful!) After this... is just the epilogue! I cross my heart to get that bit out soon. I'm sorry for leaving you lot on a cliffhanger for so long! But I'm so so grateful for all your sweet feedback and kind lovely words. I'll really be looking forward to everyone's thoughts on this second to last chapter! 💖

w/c: 9k

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You couldn't wait to get home. You couldn't wait to toss your suitcase full of laundry in the wash room and face plant into your familiar bed. But when you got there, and your bags were stored away and your favorite sheets beckoned you to bed, you still felt like shit.

What's worse, was the quiet. James and Andy had gone off to tend to renovations in their new home, during the weekend you settled back into the flat you'd shared with the two for years and years. So you sat alone, adjusting to the new normal. Adjusting to the hollow void where your heart should be and the echoes of it's once fierce beat surging through your ears loud enough to keep you awake.

And when Gwilym rang to hold one-sided conversations with his daughter and ask how you were, you didn't even pretend to smile. He hated to see it. But a small part of Gwilym's soul settled slightly, to see you'd dropped the act of fake grins and scripted answers. And because he sort of figured you'd hang up on him if he brought it up, and you sat on the edge of your seat every time he rang, you never spoke about what happened. Not until James and Andy came home.

///

"My dear, it's been ages!" Andy beamed, tossing his bag to the sofa and taking giant strides to wrap his arms around you. His jubilant smile was a lovely sight to see, it was hardly rimmed with the question you knew must have been on the tip of his tongue. Because Andy in all his brilliant blonde wonder had remained almost entirely out of the loop. James only knew some of the bits of the story you'd stirred up over the past month. But you figured he must have told his better half what he did know. Because it was Andy who asked, after all, in the usual way any of your friends might have for a few years now.

"How was the big trip to see your lover, then?" Andy teased, just like everyone who knew you and Gwilym well enough always had, before. Only this time you had no witty come back. You had no sharp-edged jab to defend yourself. You only let your demeanor crack, at last, letting hot, humiliating tears slip down your cheeks.

His asking was the final straw, because even though you were home, nothing felt the same anymore.

"Oh way to go, Andrew." James scoffed on his hurry in the door, reaching out to grab your shoulders, pulling you in for some kind of protective hug. You heard Andy stutter out a disoriented apology.

"It's okay." You sniffled, halfway peeling yourself from James' embrace. It was your brilliant, fiery, quick witted best pal who made you pour everybody a drink and gather around the kitchen table to spew your guts; after they spent a good hour trading Olive back and forth for several dozen welcome home hugs.

Olive was fast asleep, and it was quite again, like it had been since your return. Only now instead of letting those same old thoughts echo through your head, you spewed them all, swallowing your pride with shots of whiskey. James and Andy listened all the while, taking quick drinks when you did, wincing over your pathetic, deadly details.

"Well... It's really just like that scene in My Best Friends Wedding.'" Andy mewled, trying to equate the pickle you found yourself in, to something that was fixed on a movie screen in the matter of one easy-going scene. You shook your head as James did too,

"This is clearly way more like While You Were Sleeping, except Gwil's been awake the whole time." James pointed out, getting up to reach for the bottle of alcohol on your counter.

"This is Anna Karenina." You whined gravely, letting your head drop to the table with a sorry thud. Andy gasped as James gently tugged your hair to get your attention as he said,

"Fuck that. You're getting that happy ending, love. Just give it time."

Your flatmates promised to see you through your latest greatest disaster; swearing that even after they moved away you'd still be welcome to crash in their guest room, swearing everything would be okay.

///

Halloween ended when Olive scraped her knees. She stumbled over an uprooted tree branch, scuffing up the socks you found to perfectly match her chicken costume.

You left James and Andy in their nondescript punk rock get ups and headed home with your unsettled babe for the night. You woke up early the next morning, around the same time your flat mates were creeping in from whatever party they got sucked into the whirlpool of. They told you goodnight as you totted Olive into the living room for the day. It was filling up with halfway packed moving boxes that served as reminders for you to get a move on. So while an old Julie Andrews film played, you scrolled through some listing as Olive clamored to the sofa at your side.

And right when you'd found the perfect neighborhood; A call you were anxious to answer interrupted your interest in a reasonably priced townhouse close to a quaint school district.

"You promised you'd facetime last night!" Lucy's delicate whine was music to your ears.

"I sent you a picture of Olive in her chicken costume! But we had to cut festivities short." You explained Olives tumble and apologized for missing out the chance to facetime your friend all dressed up, like you once promised through text.

"Not to mention you missed getting a glimpse of our killer halloween party, over here. I'd never seen Gwil so drunk." Lucy snorted. You chuckled too. "I wish you would have been there."

"I would have loved to see you, Luc, but I'm sure I wasn't missed by anyone else."

"I beg to differ. I wasn't the only one who was sad when you didn't call, last night. In fact, Joe said-"

"Lucy." You cautioned. Olive rested her head in your lap, and you ran your fingers through her curls in an automatic attempt to keep that familiar sickness from rising in your throat. Lucy stalled for a moment but spoke up again.

"Joe talked about you all night, actually." She seemed to realize. "To me, anyway. We sat while the others played some dumb game... and he asked about you. He had been drinking, though, and kept saying something about the aquarium?"

"I'm going to hang up if you keep-"

"Y/n..." Lucy bit for your undivided attention.

"Joe... well... you should talk to him. It would do you both some good."

"I don't think that's a good idea in the slightest. I'm not over-"

"Just... talk to him. For me?" Lucy begged, sweetly. You said okay, but not because you planned on phoning the guy, but because you were desperate for your friend to talk about anything besides Joe.

///

Gwilym came home for the holidays. You fetched him from the train station, settling into his familiar company right away. And for a week, you spent most of your time in his spacious home, baking sweets and taking naps on his big comfy sofa. You mixed drinks for the members of his massive family who stopped over, bearing gifts, and telling stories. All while Gwilym kept Olive on his hip, when she wasn't trailing behind his stride.

You spent Christmas morning the same way you had for years in a row. Only now was the last time you'd be joining James and Andy around the table for your traditional pancake breakfast. It was the last time you'd huddle around the moving box cramped living room, trading decorated parcels and reading new storybooks to Olive. You laughed the whole day, in place of crying, because you knew you would if you brought up the elephant in the room.

You couldn't tell them how much you'd miss them. How much you already did.

Your pending ex flatmates took a trip the week leading up to new years eve- filling both their cars with boxes and vowing to finish fixing up repairs to their almost home sweet home. Gwilym noted, over and over again, that you were welcome to stay with him till you found another place to settle.

You slept on the idea, in Gwilym's guest room over on New Year's Eve. The two of you were fast in bed long before the new year kicked off. You started the fresh new morning when Gwilym gently jarred you awake with a tender reminder of the promise you'd both made to Lucy.

///

James and Andy were more than happy to keep Olive for the weekend, as it was the last chance they'd get to spoil the kid for a while. They waved you off at the train station as Gwilym held out his hand for you while you climbed the narrow steps.

"I hope you know how much I really don't want to do this." You huffed, plopping into a seat facing Gwil. He grinned, peering to you past his glasses, past rays of the dull rising sun.

"I'm sorry." Gwilym nodded. You narrowed your eyes in wonder, silently prompting Gwilym to explain why he sighed so gravely.

"I'm sorry for the way I ruined things, for you. I know how much you came to care for everyone, and how you now feel like everything is destroyed. But I think you'll find your reputation isn't completely tarnished." Gwilym smiled, glancing at his feet as you bit your lip, considering his words.

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse." You let out a breathy laugh, watching the train slowly chug away from the platform. Wouldn't it be better to be excommunicated instead of tiptoeing on eggshells around people who used to consider you their unconditional friend?

"But thanks, Gwil." You quickly added, hoping he could tell you were moved by his attempt to ease your worry. You really couldn't imagine life without your unconventional friendship.

///

You tried to ignore how much more like home Gwilym's airbnb felt than your own beloved loft. You unearthed a change of clothes and left your bags in the back of his rented car. You'd be staying with Lucy this weekend, after her sister's gallery opening. You doted on your flatmate back home. And you put yourself through small hell for Gwilym. But there seemed to be a growing world of things you'd only ever dream of doing for the sake of Lucy's happiness.

You dressed for the night out, stuffing your phone and some money in the clutch Lucy gave you on the first night you met the girl. The small bag that's stitching was decorated fossilized gemstones was designed by Lucy's sister, whose gallery full of creations you were off to admire.

Gwilym filled your time with anxious chatter about what Lucy had told him to expect tonight. You couldn't tell if he was excited, or rambling to ease your clearly nervous state.

///

Lucy and Rami were waiting in the vestibule, donned respectively in black silk and pink chiffon. You didn't have time to second guess yourself before your well-dressed friends stormed your way- wrapping their arms around your shoulders and gently squealing in your ear.

"No way, I'm not even close to done yet." Rami squeezed his arms tight around you when you started to peel yourself from him. You let out a warm laugh, hugging him back all the same.

"If you must disappear for so long ever again, you've really got to do a better job of keeping in touch, you know?" Rami rang over your shoulder as you leaned into his surprisingly welcoming embrace.

Lucy yanked you from Rami's clutch and pulled you in her stride, rambing right off about how her sister had been anxious to meet you. The girls gallery was full of boldly decorated gowns, painted shoes, and upcycled handbags- true works of wearable art. Before you had time to admire any of it, Lucy pulled you straight to the back of the room, where a girl who looked very much like your friend was entertaining a group of guests sipping champagne.

Lucy introduced you to her sister, an equally elegant and bubbly girl who smiled at you with the same warmth your good friend had always shown. You proudly clutched the small purse Lucy had gifted you, flashing it out for all to see. You boasted about how you adored the thing, and how much you admired the girls creations you'd caught glimpses of on you breeze through, so far. Lucy stayed glued to your side, as if she'd never left it, bragging about her sister to the group who still listened on.

"Go one then, everyone. I'll fill more drinks while you enjoy all my hard work." The girl laughed, waving about the gallery full of eye catching instalments. Lucy took you around every corner, telling stories about the outfits you gazed upon. Some stragglers would listen on, while others shouldered past to find more drinks. One of the shoulders that brushed yours belonged to a familiar blonde. Ben turned to give a nod in your direction before scuttling off to the sound of his name being called.

You couldn't make out the look in his eye before his face turned away, and you couldn't be sure if he'd caught the look in yours. You couldn't tell if Lucy pulled you closer to distract you from it all, or if she really was as excited as she seemed to point out the display of umbrellas before you.

When Gwilym reappeared with a flute of champagne for you in clutch, you took it, and stayed near Lucy as she floated from one place to the next. Lingering too long near the father of your child felt more like a dare than ever, in such mixed company.

It was then, Joe showed up; before Lucy had floated too far. When you saw him, you pretended your breath didn't catch in a theatrical gasp. Rami pretended not to notice. And Ben swooped toward Joe, guiding him in the opposite direction with an over blown greeting, as you shooed Lucy to keep on walking.

///

Lucy set you up in her lavish guest room, made up of pastel walls, sheer curtains and cozy sheets. You dumped your bags in the corner and watched the girl primp her hair in the guest room en suite before the others arrived. Lucy was throwing some kind of after party in her sisters honor, where more trusted and true friends were meant to show up ready to mingle the night away.

"Since Sami is in town, too, Rami and I thought it was the perfect time for everyone we adore to dance the night away, together." Lucy mumbled past the bobby pins between her teeth.

Rami's brother seemed lovely, based on the short introductions you shared back at the gallery. Sami was one of the first guests to burst into Lucy's flat, balancing a few store bought desserts and asking for your help setting them across counter tops. Lucy was always looking for an excuse to gather everyone together huh? You smiled over the realization that everyone seemed to be just as eager for whatever overblown gathering the girl planned next.

Soon, the home was full of faces you'd come to recognize throughout the night. You chatted with Lucy's sister, while music kept changing genres with every new soul who was awarded control of the bluetooth.

But as drinks and hugs were passed around, you'd yet to see any of the people you'd come to know during the pantomime of a time you'd spent in London, last. Not until you floated toward the kitchen.

Ben was there, head tossed back as a swallow of whiskey disappeared down his throat. You crept in, assessing the drinks that linked the counter- more eager to extend your greetings to the blonde than you had been for whatever you'd come in here for in the first place.

"Hi Ben. You look well." You spoke, admiring his tousled hair and the fitted clothes he wore. The blonde twisted and looked right at you for the first time all night.

"Oh, thanks. I'm just so glad you're back round." He slurred in cold disdain. His tone was flat and his eyes were empty. As you registered his disposition, you recalled the look in Ben's eye every time he caught you playing house with Gwil. If anyone was fooled by your act it was Ben. He'd admired your picturesque family. You'd burned his rose-colored image to the ground.

"No, yeah I really wish you could have been round for Halloween. You could have gone as Bebe Buell. Gwil could have been Steven Tyler and Joe would have been Todd Rundgren. Hell, you wouldn't have even had to have dressed up for that role." Ben ended his tipsy address by slamming his empty glass on the counter, causing a crack to race up to the rim. You stood there, heart shattering in place, too...

"I swear to God if you break Joe's heart I will-" Ben pointed, darkly.

"Ben, what the fuck?" Lucy cursed, spinning into the room like a hurricane. She ripped the broken glass from Ben's fist and gave him a disappointed glare.

"Apologize to her right now!" Lucy boomed. You stood stone still, watching in shock. You'd been prepared to deal with every blow Ben delt you, because that's what you deserved. You did nothing to merit Lucy's displays of friendship.

"Fuck that." Ben spat, looking right to you. "You're a fucking liar."

Rami appeared as if he was just breezing by, but grabbed Ben along the way, clasping his shoulder and dragging him out of the room. Lucy scurried over to you, while you started to apologize and plan your escape route.

"I knew I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry-"

"Yes, you told a lie. But you've apologized, and explained, and given it time. So has Gwil. It's over now. Dealt with. Ben had no excuse for losing his cool like that." The brilliant blonde petted your arm as you held fast to the anchor of regret that had found a residence in your belly.

"I hurt his feelings Luc. That's excuse enough."

"Well, I don't think so. He should apologize. He doesn't need to like what you did but you're not going anywhere. So, he'd better get used to it."

Lucy spoke decidedly, reaching for a martini glass. You smiled, and shrugged, and mouthed thank you as a few folks you didn't know pranced into the kitchen.

When you rounded the corner into the busy living room, you were halted on your mission to find a bit of quiet.

"Here, you're gonna want some of this before Gwil eats it all."

Joe was stood in front of you with a small purple plate of cake. You glanced from the buttercream and back up to the man with fossils for eyes. He was dressed in clothes you remembered him wearing before, a bit of stubble covered his jaw.

Your hand lifted to take the plate from his grasp as your eyes locked on his, too many words to choose from sticking in your throat. He started to turn back to wherever he came from, but then nodded his head for you to follow along.

"Are you kidding me? You're a shit friend." Gwilym cried from the sofa, as you approached. "After I asked you so nicely to fetch me another slice." Gwil's gaze turned from the dessert in your clutch, shaking his head in Joe’s direction.

"That was the last piece and you already had three." Joe pointed to the plate in your hand as he plopped next to Gwilym on the sofa. You eased across from the two, moving faster than you could think otherwise.

"He's always stealing Olives snacks, too." You laughed a little, hoping like mad that you didn't seem as nervous as you were. "I'll take this as pay back on her behalf." You grinned to Gwil, raising a bite of cake to your lips.

As Gwil started to defend himself, Sami breezed by, settling into the nook you'd found yourself among, it didn't take him long to learn you and Gwil were trading banter about the same little girl.

"Oh, you two are together?" Sami asked, trying to connect the dots, like so many others had before. And in a flash, after shooting you a look, Gwilym answered. He assured you weren't a pair. That you only stuck so close because of the kid you shared. As he rambled about Olive, you wondered why it couldn't have been that easy, every other time.

You picked sorrily at your cake, accepting the new normal. Accepting the same white noise that blasted through your ears while your throat closed around the apologies you felt you'd never say enough of. And while Gwil pulled up a few photos of your darling daughter to show Sami, you glanced up, noticing Joe turning his easy going expression toward you.

"Thanks," You decided no sooner than you started speaking. "Ya know... for not hating me."

Joe's delicate gaze turned. His brow furrowed and his smile twisted as his eyes studied your own for a bit. You turned back to your cake, eating as much as you could before the permanent sickness in your stomach was too all-consuming.

Then you got up to toss your rubbish away. You left the people you knew mixed among the strangers who didn't know enough of you to cast appropriate glares on your creep through the kitchen. As you lingered in the back of the room, Lucy's sister led a group of girls in from the cold. She warned you the fire burning on the patio was close to dying out as she guided her friends indoors. You took it as a strange invitation to float out back to the empty ring of patio furniture. The head pounding music and bouts of laughter echoing from inside nearly became silent as you shut the door and drifted to sit on your own. This was the escape you'd been in search of earlier. But you weren't solo for long.

"You alright?" Joe's voice cut through the cold, after the storm door creaked shut behind him. You glanced up to the guy, who braced his arms at his chest, and waited to move closer until you gave the green light. You were afraid of what might happen when you answered.

"Yeah." You nodded smally, after a sigh. Joe floated toward the bench you'd sunken into, willing the cushions to swallow you whole.

"I don't know why you think I'd hate you." Joe stated, sending your mind to reel as if his daring to single you out wasn't enough of an emotional frenzy.

"You know why." You responded in an easier breath than you knew you had in you. Joe sat at your side on Lucy's posh patio furniture, while you turned your head, watching the fire die out.

"No, I don't. Even though it was all fucked up... I just... I guess I understood." Joe started, taking his time explaining things from his perspective. Explaining how he'd watched you and Gwilym fit together, and clash. How he heard some of the things you and Gwilym hissed at each other from other rooms. How you'd look at eachother with warnings. Joe said that when the truth came out, he was more relieved to know it, than offended. But you weren't totally convinced. You weren't relieved at all.

"I'm never not going to be sorry, Joe." You shrugged, casting your eyes toward him for a daring beat.

"What for?" Joe asked quietly, in a tone that suggested you didn't have a thing to be sorry for. Your eyes turned to your lap, searching for the right way to say what you felt you needed too. After a pause that seemed like eternity, you said,

"I wanted things to be so different..."

And then Joe said,

"Yeah. Me too."

Damn it. If you'd only just done something, anything differently, back then. You'd tried taking it all back. You'd tried letting time pass. Like all the movies said to do. So why did it feel worse than ever? Why couldn't you help but to hang your head, catch your breath, and bite back tears? You prayed the moment would pass. You prayed Joe would get up and leave you to suffer, leave you to adjust to your new normal.

You wouldn't let yourself cry. Not even when you felt the weight of Joe's hand in your shoulder. You held it together still, when he gently spoke your name, a vague invitation for you to let go, but you wouldn't. Joe wrapped his arm behind you. And when he did, all your practices nearly rendered useless. But instead of crying, you sank into Joe's side and closed your eyes. He let you.

///

He walked behind as you decided to head back in. And he said goodbye soon after, leaving with a tipsy Gwilym in tow.

Rami stayed to help clean up. Then he left Lucy with a kiss goodbye, on his way to enjoy the last of his brothers company in London. The house was quiet, but still buzzing with new born memories of laughter and commotion. Lucy was tired, and so were you. It was easy to pretend that you just craved sleep, and not an entirely different set of realities. So you saved expressing your regret for the shower and vowed to enjoy the rest of the weekend with your friend; who'd been looking forward to having you over since she conceived these plans at the beginning of the end of last year.

You always figured it would be easier to ignore your feelings. To steer clear from Joe. But with the way all your mutual friends seemed to enjoy each other's company, your plans fell through. So if you had to wind up so near Joe, you figured you'd better enjoy the slightest bits of his company. Because he'd smiled so easily at you. He'd been so kind. You didn't deserve any amount of his attention, but hell, you'd take it.

///

The next day you wandered down a few streets in the surprisingly warm London air. Pepperings of snow had melted away and you could have been fooled into dressing for spring if the wind didn't pick up every now and again. But still, you strolled alongside Lucy until you reached a small bistro, where she insisted on buying your lunch. She also insisted on listening to you talk, even though you were much more anxious to hear the deadly details of her much more exciting life.

She listened to your stories about Olive and Christmas time with Gwilym. She listened to you tell how nervous you were to come back to London, ready for some reality television show level of drama to bog you down. Lucy laughed at the prospect and kept pulling her phone into view when you stopped to take sips of your drink.

You realized why she'd been so taken with texting when your date was crashed. Of course, Lucy didn't tell you she'd invited Joe along. And of course, as he joined your table, Lucy stood to leave.

"Right, I've got to meet Rami to see his brother off. I'll see you later, doll, don't have too much fun without me!" Lucy shrugged into her coat and spun around after leaving you with the gesture of a kiss.

You couldn't help but laugh as she disappeared around the corner. Joe grimaced when he discovered that you'd been left out of the loop, swearing he hadn't dreamed of catching you off guard. You decided it was the way of things, in London. Anyway the wind blows... right?

It only took you the usual dread filled second to get past your blush. To assess Joe's windblown hair and his familiar posture. And just like that, after he ordered some tea and you sent Lucy a message full of hot headed emojis to decode, you and Joe delved into one of those conversations you always had with ease. The kind where he'd tell you an exceptionally long winded story about the madness on set. One of his exaggerated quotes would remind you of something from a long past summer camp, and then you'd get to talking about growing up. One thing always led to another, until there was no topic left to turn. Until the conversation you were never sure might come to life was the only one left to have.

It was Joe, in fact, who'd brought up some stupid thing Gwilym said on one of their days off. How he'd misheard an expression and argued with Joe, and Google, slow to admit his misunderstanding.

"Sounds like Gwil." You laughed, but only a little. Only to suppress the scream in your throat. You glanced down to see if Lucy had responded to the message in your lap, but only to avoid Joe's fossilized gaze. She had. She told you she had no clue when she'd be back home and reminded you where her spare key was hidden in case you became stranded.

And when you looked back up, Joe hadn't shifted his intently watchful eye.

"You know, we really should talk."

He was right. This was always coming, somehow, someway. Even as the universe tried its darnst to prevent it, still. Lunch hour had ended, and the bistro was closing. But all the reasons you'd said no to Joe in the past didn't exist anymore. So you asked if he fancied to walk back to Lucy's, where he could leave you be after giving you an earful.

The whole way there was sprinkled with mindless chatter to fill the gaps. The calm before the storm, you decided. You found Lucy's spare key with your heart in your throat, and tried to remember all the good things you'd come to adore about Joe that might mean he'd let you down gently. But you really deserved a good talking too. A totally battering of the heart and soul.

You floated to the kitchen, rambling through the same speech you'd given Lucy hours ago, about how uncertain you'd been about showing up in London after everything. How you expected to have heard many more curses from everyone, by now. How Ben's scolding you last night was only surprising due to the fact that it was cut short.

Joe listened, shaking his head every now and again, settling into the chair nearest you as the setting sun turned the room a dark, sad blue.

"Ben will come around." Joe nodded, after you cringed at bringing up how he spoke to you in this very kitchen.

"Well I'll understand if he doesn't." You assured. You'd come here expecting to spend time with Lucy, and find some kind of closure with everyone else. Even though you didn't want to.

"He will. He cares about you, y/n. We all do. Things like that aren't so easily changed."

You couldn't help but grin as your eyes rolled. Then, with all the compassion Lucy had shown you, and all the assurance Gwil had always given, Joe spoke up. He rambled for a bit about how September seemed from his perspective. How he was more relieved, than upset, when things boiled up and over. Because then, at least he'd hoped, all the times he'd caught you and Gwilym hissing at each other from the other room, would have ended. Joe hoped, when he found out the truth, that it was as simple as it seemed.

You laughed, because his definition of simple boggled your mind a bit.

"All I'm saying is I'm glad you and Gwil cared enough about each other to pretend to care a little bit more." Joe chuckled. "It all could have been much worse, ya know?"

"You're impossibly optimistic. But I'm glad." You pursed your smile, settling deeper into your seat, feeling less like your heart might explode.

After another bout of expressing your regret, and Joe assuring you had nothing to be sorry for, everything sort of felt like it used too. Your conversation floated from one thing to the next, like it always did. You spent the entire sunset yammering with the guy you'd always been too nervous to stand just near.

"Just exactly how long are you staying?" Joe seemed to suddenly wonder, when you chatter started to dissolve.

"Only until the weekend is up. I promised Lucy..." You noted, wondering if this surprise set up was something she'd had in mind all along. You wouldn't have put it past her. "She's apparently got very big plans for us the next couple of days.""

"Right," Joe shifted, his lovely smirk deflating every so slightly. "Well then it looks like this is our only opportunity to talk like this, huh?"

You figured so, trying not to look so distraught over how badly you really didn't want to leave Joe's company. It always got better each time. It always took you by surprise and put you at ease in one go. And maybe that was because you dreaded the times he wasn't near worse than the times he was. And this was one of the last, without another to look forward too.

"So, then, can I just say something I was hoping to have much longer to think through before speaking?" He grinned, but his tone was serious- deadly. A lethal pause started to set in, Joe shifted his weight and sucked in a breath. You did too, then nodded, doing your best to brace yourself accordingly. Joe seemed to consider his thoughts for a beat longer, each silent nanosecond sending your pulse into overdrive.

"I meant what I said when we met." Joe gave one sure nod before locking his forest colored eyes onto yours. "I still do."

"You do?" You asked, not forgetting the words he chose careful after knocking into you; but not understanding that he might have held onto them all the same.

"And when I told you I wish we'd met differently... this is what I meant. This was the kind of chance I had my fingers crossed for." Joe gestured between the two of you in the dim kitchen as the light started fading below windows.

"What? To remind me of the things you said without the fear of Gwil overhearing?" You laughed a little, still too afraid there was some kind of catch. An inevitable "but" that would show up and spoil the sweetness.

"No." Joe smiled, shaking his head. "No, not just to remind you of those things." His eyes searched your face, and there was no time to save the way your stomach filled with waves that reached your heart.

"Do you realize what you're saying right now?" You asked in a nervous waver.

"Yes. Everything I never got to before... and worried I might never get too."

You kept your gaze locked on Joe as he swallowed and looked to you in a way he never had before.

"All I'm saying is that I can't imagine I'll ever feel this way about anyone else, ever. And I don't want you to leave, at least not like last time. Preferably, nothing like last time. I liked you before I even knew who you were. That minute before I knew about Gwil. And even after then, too. And just thinking about letting you get away a second time kind of makes me want to cry. I'll understand if you think I'm fucking insane from now on, but... I don't want you to go."

"Where would you rather I be?" You dared to ask in a hush. You could make out Joe's piercing hope filled expression in the dim kitchen, but you couldn't believe he was looking to you like he had all those times before, still.

"With me." Joe said.

"You can't be serious." After everything? Even now?

"I've quite literally never wanted anything more."

Then, you thought, If he let all those months go by with time enough to grow resentment toward you, he didn't. He had time to find someone much more worthy of his adoration, but he didn't. He said he wanted you, perhaps more fiercely than he had when you collided for the first time. But there had to be a catch.

"Gwil will always be around." You reasoned. He was your rock. He was every bit of parent you couldn't be on your own. You weren't about to let go of his helping hand.

"He's my best friend." Joe shrugged.

"And Olive-"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Joe grinned. And for another while, as you pitched cons, Joe batted back pros. He reasoned with all of your outlandish what if's and put all of your thought up worries to rest.

"And what do you suppose we do now, then?" You asked, in one final attempt to find a fault in his desperation. A crack in the daydream that was seeping into real life.

"We can figure it out as we go. I waited this long without you, what's a little while longer with us finally on the same page?"

You went quiet, searching Joe's pretty, stubble covered face. You'd already made up your mind long ago, hadn't you?

"Okay. I have at least seven hundred more questions... but okay."

"Yeah?" Joe asked like he couldn't believe he'd talked you into it.

"Yeah." You sat up a little, feeling more at ease than you maybe ever had.

"Well now I really don't want you to go." Joe grinned, drawing his brows close as he realized just because you'd decided to work through things didn't mean they'd get easier in a flash.

"Then..." You decided, because you'd done more than enough procrastinating and debating, "Why don't you stay?"

Because this might be it for a while... but you were damned and determined to make it better than ever before. "I agree that we shouldn't just jump into things..." You explained, considering your mission to move house and Joe's pending trip back to the US. "But I think you'd better kiss me, now."

Joe must not have wanted to waste another second, either. He leaned in before you'd even finished speaking. But just like before, when he'd almost kissed you, he moved slow. And you felt his breath fan over your face. But instead of lunging away, Joe kept inching closer until your lips collided. And then he kissed you the way you always dreamed he would. You kissed him back with every bit of stored up feeling you could pull out in such a hurry. It was a sweet kiss. A long time coming. It was a moment you could have frozen and stayed in, content. But it grew and grew, like the unstoppable way forests take over old roads once there was nothing stopping their sprouting.

Joe reached out, his fingers disappearing into your hair as you kissed him like your life depended on it. You couldn't stop the way you were drawn to him, not anymore. It was impossible to tell who moved first; if Joe yanked you closer or if you'd flung yourself into his lap. All you knew was that's where you ended up, and where you longed to stay for the rest of time.

You were too entirely lost in the way his mouth opened against yours. All you could focus on was how he'd kept you so close when the pair of you moved from the kitchen to the guest bedroom. It was some kind of miracle your head was clear enough to lock the door after Joe kicked it shut and pushed you against it.

You'd wanted this for so long. You'd always wondered what Joe's lips might taste like every time he stretched a smile across the same room as you. You'd pushed away daydreams every time his eyes locked on yours and lingered long enough for you to get lost in.

Now you didn't have to wonder what he might whisper in your ear, or the way his fingers felt against your skin. You got to know what it was like to look in Joe's fossil eyes, before they rolled back while you settled into his lap. You got to run your fingers through his hair and take a deep breath, thinking back to all those little times you'd dared to wonder about a time like this before. You'd always been so certain and scared it wasn't in the cards. But in the span of an evening long conversation, you were sorted. How could it have been so easy? How could it be real?

"I've wanted to be with you for so long." You whispered, hoping Joe knew exactly what you meant. The way you spoke of so much in one statement. You ran a set of fingers through his copper hair, trying to ground yourself from getting lost in the worry you'd become so accustomed too.

"I'm all yours." He assured, speaking in the way he did, that used to make you wonder if his tone was just in your head. It couldn't have been the case, you realized. Not when he spoke low in your ear in the same way, now. Maybe there was lots more to figure out. But this was more than enough for now. It was enough to accept the way he wanted you. And Joe must have really wanted you by the way he'd grabbed hold of you and moved to prove it. You knew better than to take a nanosecond for granted. You knew to relish the way Joe glistened before you. You swore through your fluttering lashes you spotted a halo. Even if it was a ring of light cast from the bedside table- it fit Joe's crown well.

///

Lucy came home long after you'd fallen asleep. The beaming of her headlights through the curtains and the sound of her car door shutting and locking roused you from slumber, barely. All you registered was her homecoming, and Joe’s arms and legs tangled up with yours. The pace of his gentle breathing at your side sent you back to sleep just as peacefully.

When you woke up again, with this rising sun, Joe was still out cold. You could hear Lucy humming in the kitchen, knocking about pans like she had the morning before. So you decided to take the cue to greet the day. You scurried to the en suite, tamed your hair and waltzed out to find what your friend was cooking up.

You had half the mind to scold Lucy for abandoning you, last afternoon. But she always had a knack for gifting her friends exactly what they needed, even if they hadn't really asked, hadn't she?

"You're up early for someone who was out so late." You playfully jabbed, shuffling past Lucy whose pretty face lit up upon seeing you. She stood near the stove, fussing over pancake batter and a tin of blueberries.

You were already halfway through your mission to pour a cup of coffee from the fresh pot across the room, as Lucy greeted you warmly as ever. She rambled for a bit about taking Rami's brother to dinner when his flight got delayed. You turned from resting your piping hot mug on the table in time to notice Joe had awoken, and was leaning against the frame of the kitchen doorway.

"Pancakes? Nice." He stifled a yawn, dressed in the joggers he'd worn the day before. Lucy spun on her heels with a startled yelp at the sound of his voice over her shoulder. Her tin of blueberries went flying, and you managed to catch it before too many tumbled to the tile floor. Lucy let out a string of curses, and a few steady breaths, as Joe was quick to apologize for scaring her into making a mess, crouching to collect the few stray blueberries as you handed Lucy the tin with the smallest grin. She returned your smirk before shrugging back to the stove.

"Breakfast for three, then." She said, obviously trying to keep an excited squeal at bay.

You poured two more cups of coffee and settled in for the most important meal of the day. While you ate, Lucy sat back, demanding to know what was going on. You and Joe traded between turns explaining, telling how you'd talked through most everything last night. How you had lots left to talk about, and lots to decide. But that you'd agreed to figure it out as a pair along the way.

After you'd finished your story, and thanked her for making breakfast Lucy dramatically wiped a faux tear from her eye. She stood to collect your empty plates, and urged you to get ready. Apparently, she'd gone all out, booking a day out on the town for the two of you.

"Sorry Joseph, but I've called dibs on this cutie. You can hang around here if you'd like. I'm sure we'll be seeing lots of you this weekend either way." Lucy giggled, yanking you through the kitchen door and toward your guest room.

As you rushed to fix yourself up and finished your makeup in the spacious en suite, Joe slipped in to tell you goodbye. He collected his wallet from the bedside table while you asked what he was up to today, only a little gutted to part ways.

"I've actually got plans with Ben." Joe rose a brow, leaning against the sink as you tore your gaze from your reflection and uttered a worried "Oh."

"I'll talk to him, okay?" Joe nodded. He'd been so certain last night, that Ben would come around. You'd been accepting of the fact that might not be true, but now the same fact worried you worse than before.

"Okay." You agreed with caution, turning to evaluate your reflection once more. Then you glanced to Joe's image in the same mirror, already missing him. Already anxious about the next steps you'd decide to take together. Everything between you and Joe happened pretty quickly, after such a torturous build up. But now you were back to taking it slow. You knew that was for the best. You knew Joe was worth it.

"See ya later?" You gave a small shrug, unsure of the proper parting phrase, after the conclusions you'd come too.

"No doubt." Joe smiled, pressed a quick kiss to your hair, and spun out of the room, yelling for Lucy to come and tell him goodbye. You didn't have a reason to suppress the butterflies in your stomach as you perfected your lipstick. You simply enjoyed how light your feet felt as you glided into another bright day.

///

Lucy dragged you from shop windows, to expensive stores. She pulled you along to try free samples of sweets and insisted you try on a pair of shoes that couldn't fit her feet, or your plebeian budget. You ordered tea and stopped in the middle of streets and markets to laugh until it hurt. When you'd wound up in the middle of a manicure with a glass of wine and a couple of nail techs who were eager to gossip with you; you had to stop from pinching yourself and messing up your fresh polish.

Lucy kept bringing up Joe, and all the times she'd caught him staring at you. All the times she thought she'd notice you stare back. She reckoned it was a good thing you'd finally found a way to go about giving each other a chance, no matter how strongly things came to be. She agreed fate was at hand. And so did you, because as you spoke so liberally of the lad, you seemed to summon a text message from him.

Joe: Ben wants you to meet up with us for dinner. He promises not to be mean anymore.

You read the message aloud to Lucy whose eyes grew wide. Your nails were dry by then, as you strolled about the city together. She insisted you skip her movie night plans, nudging you to agree and work things out with everyone's favorite stubborn blonde. You asked if she was really sure. Because you'd already missed one night of fun you could have had together. Lucy figured you could make up for it in the next night and a half you were still around, making loose plans to see each other in the near future all the same.

You admired Lucy's tenacious and tireless efforts at preserving your friendship, and agreed to see her later in the evening.

///

It was the same restaurant you'd come to that first night you met everyone. You couldn't be sure if the boys picked it on purpose, or if it was really the only nice joint open at such an hour. You glided through the doors with a keen chuckle. No matter how or why, everything seemed to come full circle. And with that you'd always be certain.

Ben and Joe were lingering near the back, at a table in the least bust section of the place. You noticed them notice you, and held your breath as your feet traveled closer. One thousand versions of the same sorry came to mind, as you felt Ben's eyes on you. The thing's he'd spat your way echoed in your head. You hated to think you hurt his feelings, broken his heart.

When you were close enough to open your mouth and say all the things Ben deserved to hear, you didn't get too. Because Ben stood up, and spoke first.

"I'm sorry." He croaked, reaching to pull you into a hug without question. You were stunned, for a second, but hugged him back tight. His jumper smelled like expensive cologne and his arms nearly squeezed your shoulders out of place. You tried to hug him back with matched intensity.

"Well, I'm still sorry too." You spoke, voice muffled by his jumper. "I did a stupid thing. One that could have been fixed a bunch of times."

You pulled away to look at the handsome guy you'd always been so humbled to call a friend.

"But you did it for Gwil." Ben nodded, giving your shoulders a final squeeze. He gestured for you to sit, and you followed his lead as Ben said something more.

"I'm not sorry for being angry. But I am sorry for how I acted and the things I said."

You shook your head, feeling the warm sting of tears press against the back of your eyes. "I deserved to hear those things. I needed someone to tell me how stupid I was being."

Ben commiserated and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned in for another hug. You'd missed his company so dearly, you missed how passionately Ben cared. He promised he'd always be around to knock some sense into your head.

"And anyway... all is well now, from what I hear?" Ben shrugged as you sniffled and cast a glare across the table to Joe, who was waggling his brow and sipping some fruity drink.

"I wish things were always this easy." You let out an airy laugh, reaching for the menu that listed the drinks.

"I'm just glad they finally are. Let's drink." Ben snatched the list from your grasp as you laughed, settling into your new reality. It wasn't much different from the one you'd known and loved, after all. After ordering, you dodged a couple of very embarrassing questions from Ben, and managed to talk Joe out of answering them. The three of you chatted most about the way things had been. Your favorite parts of the month you'd spent with Olive in tow. The boys claimed to miss her, but neither more than you.

Then Ben got a call from Rami. And through a short conversation you only heard one side of, you came to understand the leading man was coming to crash your dinner party. This was of course good news. You weren't sure you'd get the chance to see him again before the weekend was up, let alone spend with the cast you'd come to know and love all at once.

You weren't surprised to see Lucy had tagged along with her man. She cast him across the table next to Joe, so she could sit next to you and complain about the way she'd already chipped a very expensive nail.

"Somebody better call Gwil, he can't be the only one left out. Imagine the Instagram comment's he'd leave out of spite." Lucy piped up, glancing across the table full of your favorite people. Joe was first and fastest to volunteer, putting Gwil on speaker to overwhelm the guy with plea's from across your table for him to come and join.

When he finally showed up, and your waiter took everyone's orders, everything finally felt normal again. You sat in the middle of your five favorite people, arguing over each other, stealing chips, sharing laughs. And all the tension from before vanished. You hadn't realized how all captivating the stress from before had been, until you'd settled into peace. Until you felt Joe's knee knock against yours while he grinned as if to ensure he'd meant to catch your attention. You'd smiled back before taking a swing of your liquor for good luck, hoping a silent toast to the feelings that spread in your chest when you caught Joe staring you, would superstitiously keep those glances coming.

When you'd down a couple of drinks and Lucy had switched seats to take some ridiculous photo with Joe, you'd been instructed to use your phone to capture the moment. When you blindly reached into your bag, you pulled out something that wasn't at all what you'd been looking for.

It was Olive's beloved toy bat. The one she'd throw a fit over if it wasn't in view. The toy had been lost in your purse the whole time you'd been away from the girl. You locked wide eyes with Gwilym across the table and each of you let out an "oh shit" in unison.

He'd already been clutching his phone, giving you a look you knew meant he was checking in with the group chat that himself, James, and Andy made up three fourths of. Having been put ever so slightly at ease, you snapped the photos of Lucy and Joe toasting their drinks to each other- for good luck, you decided.

Before you could toss your phone away, it buzzed to life with a message from your flatmates. You checked in a hurry to make sure their world wasn't turned upside down by the baby they were sitting who was missing her prized possession.

The first message was a photo of your daughter, curled up at Andy's side, the stuffed penguin from the London Aquarium tucked under her other arm.

James: Think she's got a new favorite anyhow!

You smiled to yourself, tucking your phone away. Gwil would see, and be put at ease when he checked his end of the group chat later. For now, he was debating the best kinds of breakfast foods with Rami and Joe, each steadfast in their answers. The lot of you stayed there until Ben was slurring about Frankenstein, and Lucy had waited long enough for her one drink to wear off.

Gwil left you with the promise he'd see you again in a couple of days to give you a lift to the train station. Rami and Ben took turns trading hugs with you and everyone else, before piling in to head home.

Lucy corralled you and Joe to her car, insisting to both of you that Ben and Rami couldn't hear your exaggerated ongoing goodbyes from inside the car they drove off in.

And when the three of you piled into her ride, Lucy made plans to keep on drinking, and watch a few bad movies together, while you still had the time. She invited Joe to join in, not because she was quite keen to spend all night hearing his drunken rambles, but because she knew you were. He worried that he didn't have proper movie night attire, and Lucy insisted she could loan him some of Rami's joggers. You were buzzed enough to lean a little closer to whisper something in Joe's ear about not needing to worry about wearing any clothes, later. The two of you subdued snickers like a couple of virgin teenagers.

But it still took Joe the whole ride to Lucy's to gain the courage to hold your hand. And when his fingers laced through yours, you dared not let go for the rest of the evening. You were determined to hold on for the rest of the weekend. For the rest of forever. You weren't about to let Joe slip away, no matter what happened next. You were in it together, now.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil @sadhwstudent @freakibanana @lelifesaver @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine

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kaleidescope-writes · 4 years

Text

Faithfully Yours--Chapter 2: Mornings & Gossip

In partnership with @accio-boys

Billionaire!Tom Hiddleston x Doctor!Reader

Slow Burn! (Yay)

Warnings: Swearing, causing a scene, fluff, and a cliffhanger😈

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“Absolutely not!” you blurted. The guests, who were paying full attention to your mother, turned to look at you. Many of them had a look of surprise from your mother’s announcement, your sudden exclamation added on to their shock and mild confusion. Your mother, on the other hand, quickly changed her expression from shock to mild anger. “Darling,” she began through gritted teeth, “Let’s have a chat. In private.” She turned to the guests, tone going back to what it was before, “As for our guests, you are free to mingle.” She walked over to you, grabbing your arm harshly and leading you to a secluded corner of the room.

“What the hell was that, YN?” your mother hissed, not letting your arm go. “Mom,” you began, “I’m not going to marry anyone. Especially not him!” She let go of your arm, pushing you back a little in the process, “You have to. This is for the good of the family. Whatever objection you have, suck it up!” You sighed in frustration, “Suck it up? Mom, I’m a top doctor at a hospital! I have zero time to waste on assholes that are charming with everyone else but almost run me over when I get off work!” She took a step closer to you, “This is for the family! You’ll still be a doctor after the wedding! You’re marrying him. That’s final!”

“No!” you shouted, earning the attention of two particular people you desperately wanted to avoid. “Is there a problem, Y/N?” Mr. Hiddleston asked, approaching you and your mother. She glared at you, silently urging you to answer wisely--deny that there was a problem. You gave her a challenging look, eyes never leaving hers, “Actually, yes there is.” You felt both men get closer to you, yet you didn’t break the visual standoff with your mother. “And what might the problem be?” Tom asked, making your stomach turn. “The problem is that I’m not going to marry you, Tom!” you snapped harshly, “Look, it’s been a long day. I had enough to worry about between my job and the first wedding announcement, I don’t need this.” You motioned to your general area, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m a busy doctor and a lot of patients rely on me to keep doing my job instead of marrying,” you looked Tom up and down, “assholes in black jaguars.”

Before anyone could say anything, you walked over to the counter and picked up your purse, continuing your strut out the door. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to anyone, too enraged to face anyone else in the room. All you wanted was to go back to your office, bury your face in your frustration pillow, and scream. You had no intention to have any social interactions with anyone for the rest of the night.

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

Waking up on the couch in your office was never ideal, but sometimes it was better than being home. Today was sometimes. You sat up, stretching as you slowly opened your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Letting your arms drop, you looked at the watch on your right wrist. Six A.M. Lovely. You stood up, yawning as you made your way to your personal bathroom. Opening up the mini drawer you kept extra clothes in, you settled on something to wear and placed it on the sink. Looking up to see your reflection in the mirror, you took note of your disheveled hair and decided to braid it today. You let little things occupy your mind, welcoming the temporary distractions before starting the day. You needed a clear mind to keep an excellent job performance.

You walked into the cafeteria, feeling fresh and ready to start the day. Picking up a small breakfast selection and drink, you walked over to a table occupied by some doctors you were close with. “Hide your shit, boss is here!” Isabel gasped playfully. You laughed, “Breaking your commitment, Dr. Teixido?” Lucille scoffed, “Isabel, the poster child? No way.” You sat down, already beginning to dig in to your meal.You silently listened to the conversation around you quietly as you ate, reacting every once in a while. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting with them, but you unknowingly finished your food. Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, you saw someone else approach the table.

“Y/N! You’re not going to believe this!” Luke said, out of breath from running around looking for his friend. Before you could question what he was talking about, he showed you the article on his phone. Your stomach dropped and you took the phone from him. “What’s going on?” Isabel asked, concerned about your sudden change. “Twitter has been going crazy over the possibility of a romance between a beloved billionaire and the head of New York’s best hospital,” you read, “Billionaire Bachelor Tom William Hiddleston has been shipped with Dr. Y/N L/N from Rose Valley Hospital and Medical Center by thousands of twitter followers, all claiming they’re the “it couple” of the century.” You felt your internal organs begin to turn in discomfort. What the hell?! The other doctors looked at you, all confused as to why you were reacting so negatively.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” you questioned, frustration returning in full swing. “He’s only the most eligible bachelor by far,” Lucille answered, “His parents are millionaire CEO's of a multi-million dollar company. He works in that company and has a fortune of his own. He’s also incredibly hot.” You gave her a look of absolute disgust, unable to understand her attraction. “He’s also an absolute douche-bag. A rich, cocky, unpleasant douche-bag,” you rebuked. Isabel gave you a look, “Why are you so against him?”

“I’d rather not give him more attention than he deserves,” you replied bitterly, handing Luke his phone. “He almost hit Y/N with his car,” he said simply. Teigan turned to Luke, finally deciding to join into the conversation, “I’m sorry, he what? When did this happen?” You put your head in your hands, “Yesterday! Right before my mother told me she made arrangements so that I have to marry the guy.” The group fell silent. An uncomfortable tension filled the air around you. Looking up, you gave them all an expectant look, urging them to say something. They were all silent. Luke shook his head, “Now you won’t say something about how dreamy he is?” Isabel opened her mouth to speak, words falling short as she looked between you and Luke.

You groaned, letting your head fall momentarily before getting up from your seat. “I have work to do. I have to catch up on all the work I put off last night thanks to the damn announcement,” you said as you grabbed your things and walked away from the group. You didn’t think you’d have to tell them so soon, but the article had to exist. Much to your displeasure. Walking out into the hallway, you slowed your pace as your work phone rang. You answered the call, coming to a complete stop near the wall. The voice on the other end of the line made your stomach drop for the second time that morning.

“How the hell did you get this number?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Six-thirty A.M. That’s what the clock on the stove read. Meaning that any moment now, Vivienne would come running down the stairs and get her stuff ready for school. Tom went back to preparing her breakfast knowing that he would hear her coming down. Sure enough, he heard the pattering of the eight-year-old coming down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Good morning, uncle Tom!” she greeted in her usual cheery voice. Tom smiled, turning around to face her, “What, no good morning hug? Have you grown out of hugging your uncle already, Vivie?” Vivie smiled at him, running over to him to have him a quick hug. Tom leaned down to hug her back, smile widening as he did.

“Anything exciting happening in class today?” He asked, pulling away from her and going back to the food. “We’re starting a new book today. The teacher hasn’t told us about it because it’s a surprise,” she smiled as she sat down on a chair, placing her backpack on the counter. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Tom laughed, “You’re just like me, you know. Now sit patiently for a bit while I finish with breakfast.” Vivie nodded, pulling her tablet out of her bag and opening one of the educational game apps. Tom continued with the two omelets as the room filled with the sounds of Vivie’s game. This was his every morning, making sure Vivie was ready for school before the bus picked her up and getting ready for work himself. This was what his life was composed of, and he was happy. He didn’t feel the need to marry a stubborn, know-it-all doctor. Even if his father thought Vivie needed a mother, he could do much better than Y/N L/N. And if they did get married, she would never have time for Vivie like he does. She said it herself, she’s a busy person. She has patients to take care of.Y/N L/N has no time for family whatsoever. Besides, Tom didn’t want Vivie to grow up as bitchy and grouchy as her.

Deciding the omelets were ready, he grabbed the spatula to his left and took them out of the pan one at a time and placed them onto separate plates. He didn’t notice the sounds from Vivie’s game had gone silent until now and he grew suspicious. Both plates in hand, he turned to the counter where Vivie sat and instantly noticed her reading something. “What’s that you’re reading?” he asked as he put both plates on the counter. Vivie looked up at him confused, “Who’s Y/N?” Tom’s smile faded, holding his hand out to her. Vivie gave him the tablet, still waiting on his answer.

Tom began reading through the article on the screen, a feeling of dread washing over him. “Shit,” he whispered, looking at the blurry picture of them together. “Is this bad?” Vivie asked, still trying to get him to respond. Tom snapped out of his shock, looking at her before he spoke, “Yes--well, not really. It just means I have to make a call. Keep an eye on my food, please. And don’t even think about switching it with yours while I’m gone.”

Taking out his phone as he walked over to the window in the kitchen, he dialed the number of his assistant. “James, I need you to find someone’s phone number for me,” Tom ordered as soon as he picked up, “Her name is Dr. Y/N L/N. She works at Rose Valley, I believe.” There was shuffling on the other end before James asked, “Is this about the article?” Tom sighed, “Yes, now please find it for me. It’s urgent.”

There was a brief silence before James began to read the numbers out to Tom, which he quickly wrote down on the kitchen chalkboard. He thanked James before hanging up and beginning to dial her number. As soon as she picked up, he rushed out, “We need to talk.”

“How the hell did you get this number?” she asked, sounding surprised and angry all at once. “You’re a famous doctor, I’m surprised you don’t know how easy it is to find it,” Tom scoffed, “Look, that’s not important now. We need to talk in person. There’s an article going around--” “Yes, I know about the article,” Y/N interrupted, “Why does it need to be in person?” Tom sighed, “This is urgent.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You left the hospital early for the second time this week. It wasn’t your idea, but an article had to appear the day after you were told you’d be forced to marry a millionaire. And now, said millionaire wanted to talk, claiming it was too urgent to talk about over the phone. So you found yourself on an elevator of the Empire State Building, heading up to the balcony at the top. The sun had set earlier, making the city lights shine outside.

The elevator came to a stop, doors opening and allowing you to continue your journey to meet with him. As soon as you walked out into the balcony, you saw him looking down at the city with his hands in his pockets, back turned to you. You stopped in your tracks, deciding to maintain some distance between the two of you. He sensed your presence and fixed his posture, keeping his back to you. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for whatever his purpose was.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

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

A/N: Done!! It took a while, but it is posted!! I hope you enjoyed today’s Chapter. What did you think? Let me know in the comments as feedback is both appreciated and encouraged. Ok, I promised something else today, and rest assured it will happen. I love you, Stay Safe, Stay Proud, Be careful, and I’ll see you in a bit!!

Taglist is OPEN

@myraiswack @falling4uke @accio-boys @ashcrimson-is-writing @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @whathefuckrichard69 @blue-honey-bee-from-france @frostedgiant@allthecreativeonesaretaken @hunterofartemisblog lyka-k@racewife2004 @juniperwoodwell @adepressedstudentslife

Pride Spam Starts NOW

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelson #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #tom hiddles #loki fanfic #thomas william hiddleston #loki fandom #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki x y/n

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pebblysand · 3 years

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OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

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nickelkeep · 3 years

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15x18 Despair Live Blog

Yep. Totally watching this live.

The Road So Far...

IT’S THE EMPTY.

I’m already sobbing. Just a heads up. This may be incoherent. More so than usual.

Oh gods, it’s picking up right where it left.

“What do we do?” Dean is devestated.

Jack telling Cas to go away.

THERE SHE IS.

NO! THAT BITCH SENT HIM TO THE EMPTY.

OH SHIT - He’s a black hole for all cosmic forces.

MAYBE HE’S DEAD?

FELICIA! CHARLIE!

Oh well, poor you.

SAM. BE CAREFUL.

“You got me.” “This isn’t a negotiation.”

Jack lived. Where’s the Shadow of the Empty?

There we go.

SHADOW, IT WASN’T HIM.

SAM. DO NOT PISS OFF DEATH.

God’s book has a new ending.

“Billie, I swear.”

OH SHIT DEAN. POWER MOVE.

It’s like they’re in their own empty, how dark it is.

Dean’s apologizing. And they’re bonding. “Snapped me out of worse.”

Chuck is bad. Billie’s going to kill us and Michael’s not answering our prayers.

CHARLIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND. IT’S STEVIE FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON

She’s so excited about eggs. They’re so fucking cute.

NOOOO GIVE BACK STEVIE! MAKE CHARLIE HAPPY!

I am so angry. So fucking angry.

YOU WERE FLIRTING. I know you, Charlie.

Are they are telling her about Chuck/Billie/The Empty?

He was ready to die. NO BBY.

He feels so useless.

She wasn’t going to do the love thing again, and NO... CHARLIE. :(

OH SHIT. EILEEN.

NO. NO. NOT EILEEN.

Sam’s her screensaver... no no no no

DEAN HUG YOUR BROTHER.

“I’ll go with you, Dean.” - HE SAID OKAY. DEAN SAID OKAY.

“Let’s go reap a reaper.”

Guys, we’re going to lose Cas. Like, I knew we were, but the build up? Charlie losing her girlfriend. Sam losing Eileen. I can’t. I can’t do this.

I hate the people I’m watching this with, especially @7faerielights.

-Side note? FUCK THESE COMMERCIALS. I WANT BOBO TO HURT ME SO BAD.

DONNA! If Jody got snapped, so help me.

They’re going to smoke her out. Fuck yeah!

“I’m sorry, about Eileen.”

JODY AND THE GIRLS. THEY’RE NOT ON HER LIST, NEITHER IS GARTH. THANK GOD.

CHARLIE, I’m so sorry love. I wanna make the pain go away. :(

All the warding.

“You’re the big guy here.”

BOBBY. OKAY. THANK YOU FOR THAT MOMENT OF LEVITY.

Donna and Jack protecting them. MY HEART.

WAIT. DID JACK? What?

Sneaky Deancas, sneaking around the library.

“Hello, Boys.”

WAIT. THE EMPTY OR CHUCK WAS KILLING THEM.

NO! CHARLIE!

DONNA, NO NO NO.

I’m fucking sobbing.

OUR STREAM IS BUFFERING NO

NO IT FROZE FUCK FUCK FUCK

Hopped into another stream. I’m sure I missed a little bit.

Billie’s hunting them down.

“She said she’s dying, we wait her out.”

“I just led us into another trap.”

BABY, NO. THIS ISN’T YOUR FAULT.

THE DEAL. OMG. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO TRIGGER THE DEAL, CAS?

THIS MUSIC IS ROMANTIC. STOP IT. LKDGJNLKDSJG

"Happiness, isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it."

GOD DAMMIT CAS. I’m fucking sobbing.

IS THAT FUCKING CANON ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? IS IT?

Dean’s not going to come to the phone right now, Sam.

They snapped everyone.

FUCKING HELL. FUCKING CLIFFHANGER.

Charlie lost Stevie. Sam lost Eileen. Dean lost Cas.

I can’t. I’m fucking sobbing.

Don’t read past here if you don’t want spoilers for the preview.

Sam’s going to get his dog. They’re going to find

#SPN #spn spoilers #spn season 15 #spn 15x18 #spn liveblog

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iceshard1011 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, switched!au, Dark Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Virgil is doing his best, roman and logan aren't sure what to think about the new guy, janus is totally a dad but he only shows up for a couple of paragraphs, Fluff and Angst, It's not too angsty, for once, yes the title is from Descendants, remus isn't unsympathetic he just has zero social awareness, Happy Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, it's just a bit of a cliffhanger, it makes a second part possible but it's not exactly necessary Summary:

Anxiety, overly curious and maybe a little too confident, explores the subconscious. There, he comes face-to-face with Thomas’ Dark Sides. But after the horrid stories the Light Sides have told Anxiety, he’s baffled by what he’s found.

4k story posted below as well :)

It was a ridiculous oxymoron of sorts, but Anxiety loved exploring.

Virgil had a feeling that somewhere, in some alternate universe, he would hate the mere idea of leaving his small bubble of familiarity and safety. He didn’t think about that a lot, though. It didn’t matter; Thomas had grown up embracing Virgil’s input and warnings. Just beneath the surface of Thomas’ mind, he had dealt with his best friends’ antics and adventures (and was usually tasked with trying to get them out of the problems they got themselves into). He’d wake up and make his way down to the mindscape commons, the imaginary replica of Thomas’ apartment living room. The smell of breakfast would be wafting through the air, along with a steady stream of chatter. Maybe a clang or two.

Virgil was happy.

And he was bored as all hell.

Now, Virgil loved Thomas with everything he was; he was never going to stop helping Thomas. And there were times when Virgil was run into the ground with exhaustion, when he’d spent days and sometimes weeks stressing about upcoming events.

But there were other times when Virgil felt he hardly existed. When Thomas would summon the others and Virgil wouldn’t be invited to the conversation. When Thomas was relaxing without a care in the world and Virgil felt numb with how little his influence was needed.

He loved Thomas and he loved the other sides, but all too often he didn’t feel like he was a part of their comfortable conversations and peaceful musings.

So, naturally, Virgil explored the subconscious.

The idea simmered into existence in his mind when he was scrolling through his phone one morning, curled up on the couch. The television was playing some horror movie. He wasn’t watching, unlike the enraptured Creativity at his feet.

“That’s my cue,” Janus said from across the couch. He stood, placing his book down. Virgil and Remus looked over at him, and Virgil felt Remus tense next to him.

“Thomas!” the creative side chirped, with a wide, toothy grin. “Beat you there, Janny!” He sunk out. Janus sighed. He looked over at Virgil.

“Will you be there, today?” he asked. Virgil shrugged.

“If he wants me,” he replied.

Janus frowned. “And if he does?”

“Then I’m sure he’ll summon me.”

Janus didn’t look happy with that response, but he didn’t argue. He sank after Remus. Virgil remained on the couch.

It was then Virgil wondered what would happen if he knew other sides. Then when Janus and Remus were both needed by Thomas, Virgil could still have company in the empty mindscape.

Then he thought about Thomas’ subconscious.

The pieces just kind of... merged.

Now, Virgil had no idea how to get to the subconscious. He knew it was dangerous, from what Janus had told him. The embodiment of self preservation had never ventured anywhere near the idea of tampering with the subconscious. He hated the idea of the sides hiding in the darkness of Thomas’ mind that would corrupt him if they were ever brought to light.

Remus never said much about it, even when Virgil asked. The first few times Virgil had mentioned the existence of any other sides he’d looked at Virgil like he’d just suggested Thomas should step in front of a moving train. Virgil hadn’t brought that conversation topic up very much around Remus after that, but on the few occasions he’d slipped up, Remus had acted arguably more vehemently. One time he’d taken Virgil by the shoulders and pressed him against the wall he’d been standing in front of. His eyes had been wide with some wild emotion Virgil couldn’t work out. He’d gotten Virgil to swear never to bring it up again. Virgil had listened.

Until now, he guessed.

Now, he really wanted to know what was going on in the subconscious.

He found the basement and sunk down through it. It was strange, like rising up into Thomas’ real living room, except much slower and a little muddled, like sinking through mud.

He rose up into darkness.

Well, it wasn’t totally dark. He could make out the ground beneath his feet. It seemed smooth and clean enough; no sludge or blood or anything as disturbing as Virgil had wondered about. It was weird. But interesting. Maybe Remus wasn’t totally correct when he’d said that the subconscious was a horrible place full of horrible monsters and nightmares.

Careful, he thought to himself. You arrived five seconds ago.

There didn’t seem to be any light sources around, nor anything at all.

So Virgil walked.

A few times he may have seen shadows shifting and moving in the corner of his eyes, but not once was he attacked. No once did he fear for his life. A few times he got a little on edge when he thought he saw the glint of glowing eyes or heard footsteps behind him. But he wasn’t petrified. He wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t any of the things Janus had told him he would be if he found himself in the subconscious.

What if you can’t get out? a voice inside Virgil’s head whispered, and that made him pause. That was concerning. But illogical. Why wouldn’t he be able to sink out or something he sunk into? And he couldn’t test it out, now — he’d just gotten here! No backing out.

He didn’t know when or how it happened, but it must have been a few minutes until Virgil realised there were walls on either side of him. A hallway. Virgil steps muffled into carpet.

He walked to the open room ahead, passing frames hung on the walls, but the environment was still too dark to see anything in great detail.

The living room he emerged into was... not what he expected. It wasn’t a dungeon. It wasn’t rotting and falling apart. It wasn’t smeared in blood and guts.

It was Thomas’ living room, if he never paid his electric bills. It was missing the paintings and a few of the memorabilia on the bookshelf, but it was almost nice, in a way. It felt a little off, if Virgil had to describe it, but it didn’t trigger the huge bouts of anxiety that Remus had told him it would.

Virgil peered curiously at the bookshelf, smiling to himself. Was that one of Thomas’ old school trophies? Who knew that would be here?

“Oh!”

The sound of shattering crockery made Virgil whirl.

The first thing he saw was the broken plate parts scattered across the carpet. He winced. That was going to be a pain to clean up. His gaze moved up to the side who’d been carrying them.

“Sorry,” he said, straightening up. “I shouldn’t be here. I was just exploring, and—”

“Oh, no, no!” the side said, beaming. Virgil tilted his head. Maybe he had naturally bright eyes, but it did look suspiciously like he was close to crying. Virgil hoped not; he was not the side to get caught with in the middle of a breakdown. “You can stay! You can mostly certainly stay, kiddo! Uh, here, don’t worry about the plates, um—”

He gingerly stepped over the mess Virgil had caused him to make, and rushed over to clasp Virgil’s hands between his. Beaming, he tugged Virgil forward. Virgil followed without complaint, but his hands burned where the side touched him. He wondered if that was normal. His friends weren’t nearly as physically affectionate as this side was currently being.

He let himself be led into the kitchen, where the side parted from him in favour of bounding over to the fridge. He had a lot of energy, Virgil noted. It reminded him almost of Remus, with less noise. He wasn’t as loud as Remus. That was.... good, actually. Sometimes the creative side’s antics did get a little much.

He rubbed his hands together, thinking about the strange sensation the hand-holding had left behind. He distantly heard Janus’ voice, telling him to stop fidgeting, and instead opting to shove them into his pockets to cease the nervous habit.

“What would you like, kiddo?” the side asked. Virgil blinked.

“Uh— what?” he asked.

The side leant back from the fridge. “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

Virgil opened and closed his mouth. “I— you’re feeding me?”

The side’s eyes widened. “You are eating over there, right?”

Virgil’s mind was racing. ‘Over there’? Did he mean... the mindscape? And why was he offering food? Virgil had practically broken into their home. Why was he being treated as a guest?

“Yeah,” he said after realising the side was watching him with round, concerned eyes. “Yeah, of course I am.”

The side relaxed with an easy smile. “Good!” he chirped. “So, what do you want?”

“To eat?” Virgil asked, and the side nodded brightly. “Um, I’m good, thanks. I don’t want anything.”

“You don’t?” the side asked. Virgil shook his head. “Oh.” His shoulders sagged and Virgil was worried he’d upset him, but not a second later he was beaming once more. “That’s okay! What can I do for you?”

Virgil didn’t know how to reply. What was this guy’s deal? Why was he acting as if he owed Virgil a favour? Why wasn’t he even a little baffled about Virgil’s appearance?

“Patton, who are you talking to?” called out a voice from the stairs. Mild panic spiked Virgil’s chest. Of course there was more than one Dark Side. He’d forgotten about that. This strange side had completely distracted him. “You didn’t bring in another stray animal, did you? I have told you before, those creatures are not—”

The new side stopped short of walking into the kitchen. He was tall — taller than Janus, but not quite reaching Remus’ height. He was wearing glasses, similar ones to the ones on... Patton’s face? Was his name Patton? Did the Dark Sides have names? Like Virgil and his friends?

“Ah.” The new side cleared his throat and adjusted the tie hanging loosely from his neck. “I see you’re not a stray animal.”

“Nope,” Virgil agreed.

“Is there any reason that you seemed to have found your way into our side of Thomas’ mind?” the sharp-eyed side asked, a little stiffly in Virgil’s opinion.

“Logan,” the first side hissed, upset. He smiled, though, when Virgil turned to fully face him. “Be nice.”

“I don’t see why I must,” Logan replied. Patton sighed quietly, looking downtrodden.

“It’s polite,” he said, but it was a weak attempt at defense.

Logan rolled his eyes but Virgil jumped in before they could continue; he didn’t want them to fight, especially because of him.

“It’s alright,” he said, shrugging. “I can go. I was just exploring around. I won’t stay.”

“You won’t?” Patton asked.

“Of course he wouldn’t,” answered Logan, speaking as if Virgil wasn’t there. “Why would one willingly want to stay in the depths of Thomas’ mind?”

“Oh, stop it,” Patton said. His voice was light enough but Virgil senses an air of seriousness in his tone. Logan heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You can stay as long as you’d like, kiddo.”

“Virgil,” the anxious side told him. “That’s my name. Just call me Virgil.”

The two sides glanced at each other. Virgil wasn’t sure what that look meant.

“Well, Virgil,” Logan said, as if he was feeling the name on his tongue, “what are you here for?” Virgil frowned. Logan looked exasperated as he elaborated. “What are you going to do while you are here?”

Virgil didn’t feel very comfortable staying for any amount of time, now with this side interrogating him.

“Logan.” Patton was frowning at him. It was honestly kind of a scary look. He didn’t look like the type to get angry very often. He reached for Virgil, curling his fingers — which were startlingly cold — around his wrist and leading him out of the kitchen. Virgil followed him into the living room, where he sat down on the couch beside Patton.

“I’m sorry about him,” Patton said. He fidgeted with his hands. Virgil thought about how to reply, at a bit of a loss.

The sound of a door opening and closing came from back near the kitchen, followed by new footsteps. There was a door back there? Why hadn’t Virgil seen that? He’d just suddenly merged into the house.

“Bad day, Specs?” a voice asked in the kitchen.

“We have a visitor,” Logan’s voice responded. Virgil had a chance to brace himself before he was fixed with yet another pair of questioning eyes. He shifted uncomfortably as the baffled gaze quickly turned guarded. It wasn’t near as bad as Logan, who looked cold and calculating, but the slight sneer on this side’s face didn’t do him any favours.

“Well, that’s new,” he muttered.

“Roman, this is Virgil,” Patton said with a beaming and very pointed smile. The new side rolled his eyes with a scoff. He left the room up the stairs, and Logan swiftly followed.

Virgil watched them go, relaxing now that their hostilities had been taken away, but when he glanced at Patton, he looked... regretful.

“I’m sorry about them,” he said again, looking down at the carpet.

“Do they not like me because... I’m a light side?” Virgil asked. He didn’t like using that term, but it had been coined early on by Remus, and the name had stuck.

Patton gave him a sad look. “If we arrived suddenly in the mindscape, do you think that your friends would be very happy?”

That took Virgil slightly off-guard. What would they do? Remus never liked the idea of the subconscious. Maybe he’d get angry. He’d probably pull out his mace.

Janus was more difficult to read. He had never been thrilled with the idea of these other sides, either. Maybe he’d be disappointed. He’d look at Virgil like he’d done something wrong.

Virgil looked down. “No,” he answered glumly, and stood. “I should go.” He moved for the front door — because there was a front door there, now (where had it been when he’d arrived?) — and heard Patton standing behind him.

“Uh—!” Virgil glanced back. Patton shuffled, looking nervous. “I know today wasn’t a great introduction, or series of first impressions, or anything, but— if— uh—”

“What is it, Patton?” Virgil asked, trying to use the tone that Janus often used on him or Remus when they were stammering too much to make sense.

It must have worked, because Patton brightened, and when he spoke next it was clear, like he had gained the courage to speak. “If you ever want to come back, you’re welcome to!”

Virgil considered that. As unwelcoming as the other two sides had been, he found that he felt safe with Patton. He had this feel about him that calmed Virgil’s often high strung nature, and he looked like he was happy to see Virgil. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t unwanted.

“I will,” he assured Patton, who shone like the sun in response.

Leaving the subconscious wasn’t nearly as hard as Virgil had begun to fear it would be. The moment he closed the door behind him, he thought about sinking out—

And arrived back in the living room, just like that. No resistance, no complications. Clear and smooth, as it always was. He was in the mindscape commons, just as he’d left them. It seemed the others weren’t back from filming yet.

Virgil slowly collapsed back onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn’t unable to quieten the chattering thoughts circling his head for a long time.

Visiting the subconscious a second time, he arrived just as he had the first time; no door, just the slowly materialising of a darkened hallway.

“Patton?” he called, peering into the kitchen. It had been about a week since he’d first adventured into the subconscious, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to see that the shattered plates, or mugs, or whatever Patton had dropped had been cleaned up. “Pat? You here?”

He crept into the living room and stopped short.

The third side Virgil had met while in the subconscious — shit, Virgil had already forgotten his name — was sitting on the couch, a half-spilled medicine kit splayed out beside him. He was in the middle of clumsily wrapping his arm in white bandages with his free hand. Virgil quickly averted his eyes from the nasty looking wound running along the side’s arm.

He must have made a sound, because the side looked up at him, noticing him for the first time. He caught Virgil very pointedly looking away from his arm.

“This world isn’t exactly just abyss and darkness,” he explained, rather snottily. “Unlike your perfect little world of light, we have to deal with prowling creatures that do this on a daily basis.” He lifted his arm for emphasis.

“Things that... do that... are outside?” Virgil asked, feeling his anxiety spike.

“Well, not today,” the side said flippantly. “I’ve already dealt with today’s demons.” He finished wrapping his arm and stood, stalking up to Virgil, who realised with a silent hiss of annoyance that he was a whole head taller than Virgil. “Apart from you, it seems.”

Virgil scowled at him. “I’m not a demon,” he protested. “And I wouldn’t do something like that.” He pointed to the side’s arm, who huffed. Virgil couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed or skeptical.

“I suppose not,” he muttered.

Roman, it turned out — and that name definitely sounded familiar now that Virgil had heard it again — left every day to scout for subconscious monsters. Apparently they were a mix of Thomas’ fears and doubts. He had a way of talking that made Virgil feel like he was doing something wrong by existing. It wasn’t particularly pleasant to listen to.

Roman had finished packing up the medical kit and turned to shove past Virgil when he’d frozen suddenly, staring intently down at him Virgil had stared back, completely baffled, and thought about asking if he had something on his face.

He must’ve, he quickly decided, when Roman dumped the kit on the dinner table (causing the lid to crack open and everything to spill out again) and seized Virgil’s chin in a startlingly strong hand.

Virgil’s first knee-jerk reaction was to instinctively punch, kick or headbutt the side in self defense and escape, but he was still so caught off-guard that he remained frozen. This left him to stand there uselessly and endure whatever attack Roman was going to inflict on him.

Nothing more happened, though; no piercing pain of a blade nor blow of a punch. All Roman did was slightly tilt Virgil’s head and study him with uncomfortably focused eyes. He didn’t even look like he wanted to start a fight. All of the anxious side’s personal bubble alarm bells were ringing off the hook, though.

“Are you wearing concealer?” Roman asked finally. As he spoke, he lifted Virgil’s chin (almost gently, which was weird) up, still searching his face.

Recovering from his initial shock, Virgil pulled out of his grip and looked away grumpily. He didn’t reply.

“You cannot blend,” Roman told him.

Virgil shot him a withering glare. “Thanks.”

Roman scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but this time he was smirking. Why was he smirking? What had Virgil done? Should he leave? Go find Patton? Was this going to come back to bite him? Was he doomed to be subjected to teasing from all angles now about how he was—

“Let me do it for you!”

Virgil blinked, wondering if this was still the same side standing before him. “What?” he asked slowly.

Roman nodded seriously. “Yeah. You really need a good lesson on makeup.”

Aaand Virgil’s walls were shooting back up. He rolled his eyes. “Peh,” he spat, turning away. “Whatever.”

“Why do you wear it?” Roman asked curiously, and Virgil paused. What was this dude’s deal? Did he hate Virgil or was he curious about him? “You don’t exactly need it. All it really does is cover up your freckles.”

Virgil stared at him, unable to reply. There was too much to unpack there — so much — and Virgil did not have the energy to start.

Roman took his silence a different way. “You don’t like them?” he guessed.

Virgil looked away, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “My friends... tease me for it.”

Of course, that was the sugarcoated version. Remus had erupted in laughter the first time he’d seen the little spots kissing Virgil’s nose and cheeks. He’d rummaged around in Virgil’s draws before finding his makeup kit and laughed even harder. Janus had been attracted by the noise, and while he hadn’t outwardly reacted beyond the twitching of his lips, his cheeks had gone pink with amusement. Remus had ended up breaking the pallet he had been holding in his grip, by accident. Virgil hadn’t had the courage to replace it, since.

Roman was staring at him, with widened eyes as if Virgil had relayed the whole story out loud.

Virgil shrugged. “I—”

“You don’t need to do that here.” Virgil stared at Roman, wondering if he was taking him so off-guard on purpose. The other side shrugged, as if he could read the incredulity on Virgil’s expression. “No secrets, down here. You don’t need to cover anything up.”

Roman grinned at him. Virgil studied his face, expecting to see malice or mockery. He didn’t, so he offered a shy smile in response.

Roman turned back to clean up the dinner table of spilled bandages with a nonchalant shrug. “But, since I assume you’ll be going back soon, I’ll let you and your disgraceful guise be.”

Virgil scowled, ready to snap a retort, but he realised Roman was grinning. He deflated, unsure of how to react. Roman shot him a smirk. “At some point though, I’m gonna have to give you a full makeover.”

Virgil’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Ha.”

The third time Virgil returned, he found Logan sitting on the armchair beside the couch.

“You’ve come back, then,” Logan said without looking up. He seemed to have better spatial awareness than both Roman and Patton.

“Where’s Patton?” Virgil asked nervously, uncertain about spending time alone with this cold side.

“He’s not here at the moment,” was all that Logan offered, which didn’t solve much. Virgil scowled.

“Figured that much,” he muttered. Logan didn’t provide him any sign that he had heard, or was listening.

Virgil scuttled forward, looking curiously around the room. He had left pretty much as soon as his conversation about makeup with Roman had been over. True to his word, however, he hadn’t put on any foundation when he left his room. The others hadn’t been in the living room; he figured there was a video going on. He’d been secretly glad, but then simultaneously (only mildly, mind you) disappointed when he found Roman wasn’t in the subconscious living room (what had been the point in being without makeup if the guy wouldn’t even see it?)

The sound of rustling paper tuned Virgil back into the present, and he watched as Logan flipped a page of the rather large book he was holding.

“What are you reading?” Virgil asked.

Logan looked up, looking distantly surprised. “It’s a fascinating piece of text about the intellect of other animals. There’s a theory that the sonar dolphins use could be transferred to sand dollops as some kind of writing. Of all the alien species on earth, dolphins pose incredible investigative capabilities as establishing some method of trans-species communication could be applied to actual alien species, should humankind ever encounter any.”

Virgil was a little lost, but what Logan continued to talk about did indeed sound interesting. So Virgil sat, captivated, and listened as Logan rambled on about marine intelligence and strange research into certain fish species.

In the middle of Logan’s excited ranting, he seemed to catch himself. He stilled abruptly, going rigid, and blinked spastically. He slowly closed his book and tore his gaze from Virgil’s.

“You do not need to listen to any of this,” he said.

Virgil tilted his head. “It’s interesting,” he said honestly. “I like the way you describe things.”

Logan looked startled. “You do?” Virgil nodded. Logan frowned thoughtfully.

“It’s calming,” Virgil said.

Logan smiled — the first time Virgil had seen him — and continued. “Well, there are multiple hallucinogenic fish species that produce effects that’re highly unpredictable but...”

Virgil sat comfortably and was more than happy to listen to the logical side talk on.

They must have sat like that for hours, Logan lost in his explanations and Virgil lost in the overloading of facts and information and Logan’s calming voice.

Movement caught Virgil’s attention and he looked up to see Patton walk into the room. He brightened when his gaze spotted Virgil on the couch. “Happy to see you back, kiddo!”

Virgil ducked his head, secretly mutually pleased. He watched in the corner of his eye as Patton rummaged around in the kitchen. “Do you uh... need help?”

Patton paused, looking over at him, and he saw Logan glanced up, too.

Patton beamed. “I think it’s been a while since everybody helped out with dinner. Logan?”

Logan smiled and put his book down. “Frankly, I agree.” He glanced over at Virgil, a silent invitation to follow him as he headed into the kitchen. Virgil happily complied.

The next few hours were filled with cooking and washing and dodging around each other in the kitchen. At some point, Roman returned and disappeared up the stairs. He came back down, stripped of the gaudy armour he had had on, wearing a clean shirt and bright smile, and joined them.

Virgil was baffled. This was... so domestic. It wasn’t anything like he had expected the first time he’d adventured down here. No sharp teeth being bared at him, no curses or horrible monsters being set on him.

Virgil stepped back to let the others take control of dinner, and simply watched them. They moved so in-sync, so naturally with each other. It reminded him so much of home, how compatible they were.

That made him frown, though. Why did the others hate these dark sides? They weren’t... scary, or mean. Just cautious. Careful. Virgil couldn’t blame them; he wouldn’t have been too thrilled to have a new side barging into his living room.

But now... they looked at him as if he was any other dark side. It was almost unnerving, how they acted like him being there was nothing different from routine. Maybe they were weird, and that was why the light sides didn’t like them.

“There.” Patton leaned back from the oven, satisfied.

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should head back, now." It had at least been a few hours. Chances were that the others had finished now. Maybe they were wondering where he was.

“Awe,” said Patton, his face falling. Virgil’s heart clenched in his chest and he wondered why he cared so much about keeping that smile on the other side’s face.

“Quite alright,” Logan said, stepping forward. “It is ideal that you retain a steady, daily routine in order to stay healthy. If... you’re sure you don’t want to stay for the dinner you helped make?”

Virgil shot him a smile. “I’m sure. Thanks.”

“Make sure you come back sometime soon,” Roman said, moving forward to put his hand on Patton’s shoulder. “I still have to give you that makeover.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and flipped him off as he walked out the door, hearing laughter behind him.

He arrived in his room, the place he’d sunk out of, earlier in the day, and stretched. He was ready for a nap.

His stomach grumbled, and he sighed. The smell of the dark sides’ dinner must have gotten to him.

Alright, he decided as he headed for the door. One snack.

Logan wouldn’t be happy with him, he thought with a smile as he made his way downstairs into the empty living room. He had mentioned in one of his rants about the importance of a healthy diet. Sorry, L.

He almost considered leaving the lights off — he could see well enough in the dark (he must have adjusted well to the subconscious) — but then decided he didn’t want to accidentally break something and wake the others up.

So he flicked the light on.

And was greeted with the scowling faces of two very awake light sides.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #fanfic #long post #alternate universe #kind of #LAMP

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tommyhardyx · 5 years

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Mr Solomons - Part 9

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Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: After a panicked call from Hannah telling you Alfie is in the hospital, you head there to find out what happened. Warnings: swearing, sexual content A/N: I am SO sorry it’s taken me so long to get this next chapter up! I know I left you all on a cliffhanger, and I feel horrible about that but things have been crazy and my mental health hasn’t been great. But now it’s here! Thank you all so much for being so patient, I hope this makes up for making you wait! Please enjoy, and if you do consider leaving a comment!

Sitting in the back seat of an Uber, the trip from home to the hospital seems to drag. Every second seems to stretch on for hours, the panic causing ridiculous scenarios to flood through your thoughts as you try not to work yourself into a hyperventilating mess

Your driver seems to notice your anxiety and doesn’t bother to try and make small talk with you, leaving you to your thoughts as you grip your phone waiting for Hannah to answer one of the dozens of texts you’d sent hoping to get a clear idea of what condition Alfie is in.

The first thing you notice, rushing to the doors of the hospital is Ollie standing off to the side, his face full of concern but he seems to soften when he spots you straightening up from where he had been resting against the side of the building.

“Ollie! Is Alfie okay? What happened? Hannah didn’t give me any details she just told me to get here,” you gush, gripping onto his arms when you get close enough.

Ollie sighs, wrapping long arms around your body and pulling you in close. His warmth seems to settle you, and as you grip onto the back of his shirt.

“He’s okay, well he will be okay, he’s pretty beaten up but it’s not life-threatening,” he explains, his confirmation that the man you love isn’t on his deathbed working to calm you down.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathe into him. “Can we see him?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep right now but I just wanted to tell you what happened before you head in,” he explains as you pull away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself. “He wanted to check something at work after you guys got back so he went in. The door was cracked open when he got there but he just figured it was just some kids breaking in on a dare and Alfie being Alfie he didn’t call the police just went in. Three guys, well he’s pretty sure it was three, were waiting for him, beat the crap out of him. He’s got a broken leg, a couple of cracked ribs and his face is all cut and bruised.”

Pressing your lips together, you try to keep the tears from your eyes through Ollie’s recount of events, the thought of anyone managing to hurt Alfie sounds so far-fetched to you, it’s hard to believe. But by the look on Ollie’s face, you know it’s all too real.

“He looks worse than he is, mostly he’s pissed because it happened. Alfie likes to think he’s tough, so he’s never been happy when anyone’s been able to beat him up. Come on, I’ll take you to see him.”

You nod, following Ollie through the doors of the hospital and through the twisting hallways, keeping your eyes from the rooms full of sick and hurt people as you pass, the feeling of being in a hospital making you feel a little queasy.

As you move towards Alfie’s room, Ollie catches your arm and you turn back to him.

“Just don’t treat him any different. He doesn’t want pity, that’ll just make him feel worse.”

Stepping into Alfie’s hospital room, you can’t help but gasp. Somehow you thought he was indestructible, even when his back puts him in enough pain to force him to use his cane, he still seems so strong, like nothing can hurt him.

“Alfie?” you mumble slipping your hand into his as he groans to turn as you sink ingot the chair by his bed.

Hannah smiles at you from her spot on the other side of the room, her usual sunny demeanor dampened at the sight of her brother in such bad shape.

“Hello love,” he mutters, his voice rough as it always is when he first wakes up but today it is accompanied by an edge of pain that makes you wince.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, not sure how else to talk to him when he’s like this.

“Fucking brilliant, don’t I look it?” he jokes, and you lift his hand to your lips pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“You look awful,” Ollie teases, earning a glare from Alfie.

“Oi, you just watch yourself mate,” Alfie mutters, though you can hear the humor in his voice as he says it.

Your thumb brushes over the back of his hand, and your face must betray how shocked you are to see Alfie like this because Ollie sighs and throws an arm around Hannah’s shoulders, who leans into him as he does so, and looks down at her with all the fondness of an older brother.

“How about we give them a minute?” he suggests, and Hannah nods, slipping her phone into her back pocket. “We’ll go get some coffee.”

You give them a smile as they leave, grateful for the chance to be alone with Alfie, at least for a little while.

Alfie turns to look at you, his beaten face making you wince as you squeeze his hand.

“Ollie tell you what happened?” he asks, his voice rough.

“Yeah, yeah Ollie told me. Who the hell would want to do something like this to you?” you ask.

“Sabini.”

The name sounds familiar, and it takes a few seconds for you to place it remembering the only thing you knew about Alfie before you went to interview him all those months ago.

“The guy whose nose you broke a few months ago? How would you know that?”

“Didn’t want to tell Ollie, I only punched Sabini because he made a comment about Ollie’s wife so if he knew this happened because of that he’d feel bad, yeah, but they told me they were sent there by Sabini.”

“Shit Alfie! You need to call the police, this is serious.”

Alfie just shakes his head, groaning as he tries to readjust and find a more comfortable position for his broken body.

“Not talking to any fucking police. Look, the cunt got me back that’s the end of it alright? Just want to forget about it.”

You sigh, deciding against pushing him further as you hold his hand against your cheek looking over his bruised face, to the bandages wrapped around his body and finally to the cast encasing his right leg.

“When do they expect you’ll be able to head home?” you ask.

“Hopefully tomorrow, want to get out of this fucking place,” he grumbles.

Unsure how to comfort him, you continue to brush your thumb over the back of his hand as Ollie and Hannah make their way back into the room, Hannah handing you a cup of coffee and resting a hand on your shoulder as she says something to Alfie that you’re not paying attention to.

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

“Are you sure you’re okay there?”

Alfie’s frown deepens as you once again try to get him to move into a different position, worried that the current spot, like all the others, isn’t quite right for him.

“I’m fine, just fucking leave it alright?” he huffs.

His mood has been sour since you had helped him down onto the couch, part of him is glad to be home, to be on his couch with Cyril lying on the floor beside him his hand reaching down to pat the dog’s head.

You sigh, nodding as you move into the kitchen to find something for him to eat, Alfie groans and looks over his shoulder at you.

“Love, come ‘ere, please,” he mutters, holding a hand out over the back of the couch.

Moving towards him, you slip your hand into his sighing as he rubs the back of it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a prick,” he mutters, pulling you down so he can kiss you. “I don’t mean to snap at ya.”

“I know Alf, it’s okay,” you mutter, kissing his head. “Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head, hand moving to rest on your hip calloused fingers brushing at the hint of skin he finds where your t-shirt has ridden up.

“Just come sit with me yeah? Move the armchair over and sit in that,” he says, pointing blindly to one of the armchairs.

You pull the chair closer, sinking into it and tucking your feet up under you as you lean on the arm of the chair to watch him, smiling when he reaches out to brush his thumb against your arm.

“I thought maybe I’d stay here with you for a while, at least until you’re up and moving around without as much help,” you offer and Alfie nods, glancing down at Cyril.

“It’s a good idea, I won’t be able to do much with him, especially with me ribs,” he admits. “And it’d be nice to have you around all the time.”

You smile looking down at the dog who hasn’t left his dad’s side since he got home and reach out to rub your foot along his back.

“We just need to make sure he doesn’t try to jump up on your chest,” you point out, and Alfie nods, his face turning serious.

“Fuck, I didn’t think of that. Need to make sure he doesn’t get too excited around me,” he grumbles, the thought of having to be wary of his boy bringing the frown back to his face as he looks down at Cyril.

“We’ll work it out Alf, don’t worry,” you tell him, standing up and pressing a kiss to his head. “If you don’t need anything else I’m going to head home and pack a couple of bags. Anything you want me to get while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, giving your hand a quick squeeze before it slips from his own.

“If I think of anything I'll call you. Take my car yeah? Keys are by the door,” he says.

Picking up the keys, you promise you won’t be too long and that you won’t crash his beloved car you head out.

At home, you find Nancy in the middle of cleaning, and the moment she spots you she wraps her arms around you, holding you tight.

“How are you doing?”

It’s the first time since you found out what happened to Alfie that someone’s asked how you are, all night and all this morning you’ve answered phone calls and texts from his friends asking after him, but not a single person has asked how you’re doing with the news, not that you think they should ask after you, but it is nice to have someone to check in on you.

“I’m alright, overwhelmed with everything but alright. Alfie’s okay, he’s in pain and in a bad mood but he’s alright,” you explain as you pull away, sighing as you sink into one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

“So what happened?” she asks, as she moves into the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine.

“Do you remember the man Alfie had punched back before I did that piece on him? Well apparently he sent three guys to wait for Alfie at the distillery and they beat the crap out of him. He’s got a broken leg, a few broken ribs and he’s covered in bruises,” you explain.

“Shit! How’s he doing? Is he alright?” she asks, pouring you a cup of coffee and sliding it across the bench to you.

“Thanks. And he’s okay, he just needs to rest which isn’t something he’s too keen on. I told him I’d stay with him at least until he’s able to move around on his own a bit easier so I won’t be here very much for a while.”

Nancy nods, sipping her own coffee as she leans against the counter.

“I thought you might do something like that, the broken leg might not be too difficult to deal with to look after himself but with that huge dog of his and broken ribs, he’s going to struggle. He’s lucky he’s got you,” she says with a smile.

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

Three weeks of being stuck in plaster, unable to move without assistance, or breathe without feeling a dull ache in his broken ribs, and Alfie is in a foul mood.

You thought it would be nice to get a chance to spend so much time with Alfie, a new step in your relationship that would prove if the two of you are ready for something more. Unfortunately, things don’t seem to be going smoothly.

Ollie was right in that Alfie doesn’t like to feel weak, doesn’t like the feeling of anyone being able to overpower him, and in the wake of that happening, even when being ambushed by three people he can’t accept that this could happen to anyone, and not even he could stand his ground in a situation like that.

Alfie’s perpetual bad mood has, in turn, put you in a bad mood, and you find yourself hardly talking to the man you love, doing everything you can to get out of the flat and get away from him.

Whenever Ollie or Hannah text you to tell you they’re coming over to see him you leave before they get there, telling Alfie he’ll be fine until they arrive and that they can help him with whatever he needs.

The state of your relationship makes you miserable to think about, the man you once couldn’t spend enough time with turning into a completely different person who does nothing but complain and growl at anyone who attempts to talk to him. You find yourself diving into your work, spending nights up late on the couch to finish your articles, always itching for more to work on, more to busy your mind with.

With Alfie in the cast and with his broken ribs still on the mend, it’s hard to do the one thing you know would alleviate some of his frustrations. Sex isn’t easy when one participant is in so much pain.

One night, as you work on your latest in a long successive string of articles, Alfie sinks onto the couch beside you, apparently in a better mood than usual.

“Whatcha working on?” he asks, his hand brushing your thigh gently.

“Just an article on some artist who had a big opening at a gallery that I went to the other night,” you explain, the blunt tone more due to your focus than the fact that you’re annoyed with him.

“Sounds interesting,” he mutters, though his old interest in your work no longer laces his voice.

You sigh, closing your laptop and looking up at him, the look on his face making you want to hug him despite how annoying he’s been lately.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

His face, for once, isn’t squashed into a frown like it is most days lately. Tonight he just looks sad, a miserable glint in his eyes as he watches you.

“Can’t fucking do anything, can I? Can’t even make my girl feel good to make up for being such a grump,” he grumbles and you can’t help but smile softly.

“That’s okay Alf, I haven’t really been in the mood lately anyway.”

That’s a lie. You certainly have been in the mood, but with Alfie always in such a mood and his ribs being as bad as they have been you’re stuck on trying to find ways for the both of you to get the pleasure you need.

Sighing, you gently rub your hand over his crotch feeling him stiffen at your touch.

“What’re you doin’?” he asks, his eyes watching your hand as it moves to the waistband of his pants.

You might be in need of his touch, but Alfie seems to need you more. And besides, you’ve always got the vibrator in your bedside table you can go home and grab if you need it.

“What’s it look like?” you ask, lips pressing against his cheek as your hand disappears beneath the waistband, pulling out his cock.

“You don’t… you don’t need to do that love,” he mutters as you kiss the corner of his mouth.

His arm encircles you, hand resting on your lower back and you almost moan at the innocent touch. Alfie’s breath becomes a little heavier, and you notice the way he winces and his free hand moves to touch the spot of his broken ribs.

“Want me to stop?” you whisper against his lips, worried about hurting him.

“Don’t fucking think about it, I’ll deal with the pain,” he mumbles, the hand on your back digging into your sink slightly.

As you begin to move your hand, stroking up and down his shaft, you feel him become harder and you can’t keep yourself from kissing him properly any longer.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Tags: @eap1935 / @coolmaybelateruniverse / @sandyddt / @inkeducatednnerdy / @ravendor28 / @thisisjeany / @overitall2018 / @outofbluecomesgreen / @mollybegger-blog / @bilesxbilinskixlahey / @elemph / @pointlessblogger99 / @marvelfangirl-x / @madbrilliant84 / @lotusbreathe / @justanothershelby / @acciostilinski

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #modern alfie

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia

Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.

Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.

okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”

anyways! lol guys guess what

so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting

lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn

oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels

Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still

HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW

I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it

last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right

anyway

-- oh they are showing it!!

YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON

Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s

I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe

and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time

seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED

THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!

so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time

hmmm

dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh

also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy

would you fucking look at this

first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh

so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff

yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid

EEP

HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|

oh???????

holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue

I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!

OH SNAP

SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???

(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)

ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!

(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)

welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;

Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too

lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol

OH NO OH GOD

“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW

HEY, I SAID!!!

WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall

sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this

DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT

DABI!!

Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...

DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE

Tokoyami... sweetie...

IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget

wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence

well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar

this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao

so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??

and fucking look at this lol

“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”

OH MY GOD

ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING

LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE

OH SNAP THERE HE GOES

he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this

okay yes good!!

bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here

yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord

Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people

OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ

I FELT THAT OH MY GOD

AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.

TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK

OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS

STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH

-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!

no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be

also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??

anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol

HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???

DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE

OH MY GOD

SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO

AHHH MT. LADY?!

(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)

-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me

yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again

look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal

that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool

so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still

and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this

now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl

Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk

YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!

there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had

NO STOP FEELS

HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??

AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU

lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss

oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??

okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks

YEP

:’)

welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning

#bnha 271 #tokoyami fumikage #dabi #hawks (bnha)#fatgum #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #god this took forever to edit #and it's still a mess #long story short TOKOYAMI AND HAWKS #PROTECT THEM

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demonsofhunting · 4 years

Text

All My Sins - Chapter 16

Pairing: priest!Cas x demon!Dean

Summary: Things are getting really bad for our desperate lovers. How the hell are they supposed to fight these hellhounds, including the one demon that is left? Everything is falling apart...

Warnings: sweet aaaaaand terrifying ANGST, lots of blood, the strong violence continues once more...XD

Words: about 1200

A/N: I`M BACK OMG AHAHAHAHAHAHA! :D I know that I left you at a horrible cliffhanger last chapter and I'm so sorry for that. XD I just needed to take a break. ;) But now everything is coming back together, and I'm heading in a great direction. I hope you forgive me haha, and I'm sending tons of hugs your way once more! <3 Soooo, another chapter of sweet torture. *evil laughter* They almost made it through, don't worry. XD From now on I will update normally, so every Friday. I love u guys! <3

PS: I know that there are three hellhounds in the gif, but only two in the fic. But the gif captures this chapter perfectly, so...we have to deal with that XD

Catch up here ( Masterlist ) :D

I hope you`ll like it! Enjoy! Aaaaand let me know what you think! <3

Dean Winchester closes his eyes. He inhales, deeply, followed by a slow exhale. He doesn't want to open them again. Ever. But he does anyway. Ready to fight. I have to. "What up, asshole?" he mutters, slowly walking backwards. The hellhound growls, low and terrifying. Dean's heart skips a beat and he stops breathing for a moment. Well shit. The hand, in which he still holds Meg's blade, starts to shake, uncontrollably. Suddenly, it seems small and unnecessary. It's way too small to beat the hounds of hell...I'm fucked. There are two of them, still just having a strange kind of staring contest with him - while growling and drooling onto the ground. They wait for me to make my next move. They want me to run away, want to hunt me down...want to feast on my flesh. Or not. In this exact moment, the bigger one of them crouches down, just to jump into Dean's direction, who cries out in surprise and attacks the monster in hurry. The young man even manages to stab the beast right into one of its red eyes. Black blood spills on his clothes, and he quickly makes a run for it, as the other hellhound begins to approach him too. The adrenaline, that pumped through his veins before, is suddenly just gone without a trace. Trembling fear takes its place. "CAS!" He doesn't even care anymore. Just wants to save the only thing he has left. I have to get him. What if the other demon already got to him. What - He can feel his throat getting all sore like he's about to cry. But he doesn't. There is no time. He just runs as fast as he can. Runs for his life. Once again. "CAAAAASSSS!" Am I that for away from the place where I lost him...? I don't even know anymore. Everything looks the same! Then he hears a familiar voice shouting in the distance, desperately. "DEAN!" Relief makes his muscles relax for a stupid second. Cas is okay. And that's everything that matters. I wanted to get away - just to save him. But I can't do that. I need him. He needs me. I'm gonna - He is so happy to hear his love's voice that he suddenly forgets everything around him...and stumbles. He falls to the ground, tasting the dirt and mud with sudden brutality. "Fuck!" That's all he can say, but it's already too late. Suddenly, huge claws are everywhere, ripping him apart... He never felt that much pain in his whole life. But all he can think about is Castiel Novak, the man who did everything for him - until the very end. I just wish that I could say goodbye to him... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"CAAAAAAASSS!" Castiel hears Dean's scream and freezes, immediately. Keep running, idiot! He escalates again, even though he is more than just a little out of breath. Dean... "Angel...where did you go, honey?" the demon mocks way behind him. At least Cas managed to get some room between him and his enemy. Yay. His chest feels like his skin is getting ripped off, slowly, and it gets worse with every single step he takes. Nothing compared to the screams that he hears out of Dean's direction, though. He can't help it. "DEAN!" A few more meters...almost done... Every step takes an eternity. "Angel...I'm coming to get you! I'm gonna eat your heart!" the demon screams, his voice echoing through the dark trees. He is getting closer and closer...looks like he finally understood that he might actually lose Cas if he doesn't try harder. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" Oh no. Now he's getting angry. The priest opens his mouth again. "D - " In the moment, he hears the most terrifying scream he ever heard. Filled with unbelievable pain and sorrow...absolute despair. It makes his eyes water and his blood run icy cold. His limbs are numb, he just somehow stumbles forward. A few more steps, made like he's captured in a horrible trance of death and gore. Then he sees it. Them. Dean is lying on the ground, fighting against two horrible monsters. They look like big dogs...monstrous dogs. And they are literally ripping him into shreds. His clothes are nothing more than bloody materials without any shape, his chest is covered in claw marks. Blood is streaming out of several wounds. An hour ago, Dean Winchester had it all together somehow, even though the situation was that what you could call pure shit. But now he is screaming like...well, like he is getting skinned. Castiel is about to just pass out, but he fights it. Dean...I'm...I have to do something! He sprints forward, tackling the biggest monster of them. He doesn't even think about it, not even a bloody second. Just does it. Recklessly. His mind has been shut off, to exhausted by all the traumatic things he had to go through during the last days...weeks. The priest collides with the living monstrosity. It hurts, god, it hurts so bad. Like he ran right against a stone wall. "C - Cas!" Then the other big dog hits him in the face, brutally. It smacks him to the ground - obviously, not before throwing him backwards against a tree to cause more damage to him. Castiel could swear that he just heard his spine break as his back collided with the hard wood. Now he lies on the ground, unable to move. I...I can't breathe. His face feels like it's on fire. He can't see anything. There is just a dark, disgusting red. Dean... Cas makes a weak attempt to get on his feet, or at least crawl away...but he doesn't make it. Before he can realise anything - or gain his sight back - two firm hands grab him, and pull him up, violently. He tries to get free, but the demon is way to strong for him to handle. Especially in this poor condition. "Gotcha!" the creature purrs, then the priest feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and screams. "And? How does it feel, huh? Actually, we wanted to kill you in front of Winchester, but things have changed, I guess. Let's just improve" the demon giggles, and turns the knife around that is sticking out of Castiel's flesh. The cut is deep. That's it. At least I tried. Tears are streaming down his face as he bites his bottom lip until he can taste his own blood. Then so it be.. At least Dean and I can be together when I'll join him in hell...

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

"Enough!" A firm voice, followed by a loud gun shot. Two shots. Three. Four. Five. Then the demon begins to scream, terrifyingly. He loses his grip, and the priest sinks to the ground, almost about to pass out. He blinks, trying his best to clear his sight. "D - Dean...?" he rasps. But it's an unfamiliar voice that answers. "He's badly hurt, but he's strong enough to make it. Don't worry. He's going to be okay. The hell are you guys doing out here?!"

( A/N: Next chapter on Januray 24, 2020 <3 )

That was chapter 16! Thank you so much for reading, and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit, I will ove you forever! <3

Tag lists are open!

Destiel/Forever Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @rebeloftheseas @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn @helpmeluci @trenchcoatsandfreckles @legendary-destiel @leahslovelyibrary

'All My Sins' Tags: @emodestielshipper @emumag @waywardtricksterangel @didntwanderstillgotlost @angel-e-v-a @too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc @justanotherfangirl511

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pug-bitch · 5 years

Text

That’s not why I’m going (39)

Not again

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 3,800 (I’m still on the app, so still no ‘keep reading’ unfortunately, sorry about that!!)

Notes: This picks up exactly where we left off, during the Decision Ball, as Liam is about to announce his choice (sorry again for the cliffhanger, guys, I know I pushed it kinda far :D), starting with Madeleine’s POV.

*****

Madeleine takes her place on the podium, with all the other ladies. She makes a point of staying very far from the ones she despises, which only leaves her with Kiara near her. The rest of them can fuck off.

Her heart is beating faster, but her face is impassible. Her breathing is even, her poise is perfect. Just like she’s been taught. Just like she’s been teaching herself, all her life.

The few seconds that separate her from knowing her fate drag on. When is Liam going to fucking say it? What if she failed at her mission? What if he still wants to choose the slutty commoner? She wishes the King had gone through his original plan to divulge something else on her, before the Decision. What if Madeleine needs that extra advantage?

Suddenly, she’s nervous. She has to keep it together, though, she can’t let it show. No, not now, not when she’s so close to the goal she’s fixed for herself. She looks at the crowd in front of her. Her father’s chair is irrevocably empty. He didn’t make it back from London for the occasion, probably thinking that she’s a lost cause after her broken engagement. Her mother, on the other hand, is here, but it’s exactly as if she weren’t. She’s pounding champagne flutes like it’s her job, not even looking at her regal daughter.

Suddenly, her vision blurs. All eyes are on her. Did she hear it right?

‘Lady Madeleine, I choose you. Will you accept this ring?’

Yes, yes she did. She heard it right. Time to flash a smile, to seal the deal.

‘I will,’ she says. And the crowd claps.

*****

Bastien sighs as he exits the room, about to execute the plan laid out by the King. Is this really necessary? The Prince has chosen the woman that his father wanted him to choose. Why hound the others?

He knows this is above his pay grade. But what can he say, when the King himself is giving the orders? So, he finds Rocco, one of the staff members who has been helping out with the plans, and he hands him the flashdrive.

‘When the first song ends, turn off the lights and project this.’

Rocco nods and leaves, without a word.

Well, Bastien thinks, it’s out of his hands, now.

*****

Amara turns to Olivia and Hana, a hesitant look on her face. She wants to rejoice —Liam hasn’t insisted, and hasn’t chosen her, plus he’s left Olivia alone, too. But parts of her fear that Cordonia’s future won’t be optimal, with such a cold and calculating Queen, and an immature and self-involved King. A few weeks ago, she would have just thought that it’s not her problem, but she’s come to love this country, and the people in it. Plus, she can’t help but think that Madeleine most definitely being behind all the leaks shows that there is no justice in the world. She got what she wanted, by means of deception and manipulation.

Still, Amara is relieved. Maybe she can go back to living her life, now? Liv and Hana give her a relieved but wary smile, and she understands that they’re on the same page as her.

All three of them turn to Madeleine and offer her their congratulations, which she accepts gracefully. If anything, the bitch is perfect for the job, on paper, Amara thinks.

Time for the first dance for the newly engaged couple. The other ladies leave the podium and regain their table, where they can watch Liam and Madeleine dance the Cordonian waltz —Amara looks all around her and meets Drake’s eye. He smiles at her, and her heart melts. Are they free, now? Is it that simple? Maybe she’s simply scared of believing it, maybe it’s just too good to be true.

‘Are you ok?’ Amara whispers to Liv.

She nods. ‘Yeah. Relieved for myself —and you—, but scared for the future of this fucking country.’ She shakes her head. ‘This bitch got what she wanted after all,’ she says under her breath.

Hana nods. ‘Now it’s time for the nobility to be on their toes, to counteract any crazy, cold-hearted moves she might make.’

Amara smiles. ‘Agreed. Liv, you and Bertrand, and Rashad and the others, you’ll have some work to do.’

Liv smirks. ‘Well… maybe not just us. Think about it. Maybe it’s the right time to make the most of the offer that will come your way soon.’

Amara looks at her, and Liv raises an eyebrow, a mischievous look on her face. Amara sighs. ‘So you think I should accept? And sign with my blood, basically, to be in the spotlight all my life, and no be able to return home to see my family?’

Liv sighs. ‘Don’t be dramatic, Suarez. Chill out. I was just mentioning it, but you do what you want. Plus, this isn’t The Little Mermaid or some shit —you can go back to the ocean to see your Daddy, no one is cutting off your legs.’

Hana frowns. ‘I’m not sure you watched the movie right, Olivia.’

Amara laughs. ‘Yeah, it’s not how it works. But I do agree that my dad has a King Triton vibe. Especially the beard.’ She takes a sip of her champagne. ‘But you’re right. I’ll think about it, at least.’

She is thinking about it, though. And, although it sounds tempting —being in Cordonia, with her friends, and not having to worry about returning to her depressing life in NYC— she can’t help but think about how miserable it would be for Drake. For them both. For Dramara, as Max would say. They would have to hide, at least until they tell Liam about their relationship, and then who knows how he would react.

But Amara’s thoughts have to wait. Eyes on the present. Liam and Madeleine end the waltz with a deep curtsy to the audience, who claps harder and harder. Amara finishes her glass, now is time for the dancefloor to be open to everyone. She should invite Max to dance.

But before she can get up, all lights are out. Gasps all around.

‘What the fuck?’ Liv whispers.

Amidst the commotion, Amara hears many panicked comments, a lot of them being ‘Not again’, and she remembers what Drake and Max had told her about the previous assassination attempts at court. Her instincts kick in and she gets up to place herself in front of Hana and Liv.

But a few seconds later, a light comes on. Not from one of the main chandeliers, but from a projector that sheds light on the stage. Amara’s heart beats faster. What the hell could this be?

Suddenly, she understands. The projector shows a massive picture, that she recognizes instantly.

It’s a picture of her, with Tariq. She is in her underwear, and Tariq’s hands are around her waist, making it look like they’re about to have sex. The shot is taken from a distance, with a zoom lens, which gives the picture a blurry quality. If it wasn’t this blurry, maybe people could see Amara’s disgusted and shocked look, but no.

All they see is a woman who’s sleeping with a friend of the guy she’s supposed to compete with.

A lot of Ooh and Aahs resonate through the ballroom, and Amara can hear Liv and Hana next to her, cursing out loud. She could almost smile at the thought of Hana swearing like a sailor, but her heart’s not in it.

*****

Drake’s heart jumps in his chest as he sees the picture on the ballroom wall. How dare they?

He leaps up on his feet, quickly followed by Maxwell and Michael, who is clearly wondering what’s going on. Of course he is; whoever took the picture made sure to get Amara’s profile so she wouldn’t look under attack, and they waited for the exact right moment to take the photo.

They had been waiting it out in the building across, and they knew Tariq would be there.

Tears of rage fill Drake’s eyes. So, they submitted Amara to an assault so they could get this picture? So they could ensure that she wouldn’t be Queen?

He just knows Madeleine has something to do with it. She has to.

But what breaks his heart is that Bastien does too.

*****

Leo chugs the rest of his drink. Damn, this social season is full of surprises. He’s almost jealous of all of the attention his little brother is getting, all the drama he’s inspiring.

This Amara is definitely not shy, though. He wasn’t wrong to try something with her, earlier, she would probably say yes if he insisted. Food for thought.

He looks around the room, and his eyes stop on her. She’s standing up, her chin wobbly. Hm, not the look of someone who’s been caught red-handed. She looks like she’s about to cry, when two minutes ago, she seemed perfectly happy not to have been chosen. Odd.

His head turns to the next table. More people are standing up. Maxwell, of course, who’s probably shocked to get an eyeful of his protégée. That man who’s Max’s plus one, too.

And Drake. Drake who’s standing up, helpless, his eyes wet.

Again—odd.

*****

Liam takes a deep breath as the lights come back on. For a split second when the lights went off, his heart jumped in his chest, and he flashed back to the last time the whole ballroom went dark. And the time before. When one of these sudden moments deprived him of his mother. And then, later on, when his father was targeted, and Drake’s saved him, at the cost of his own life. He shakes the feeling off. This whole thing was bad, for a completely different set of reasons. Madeleine turns to him and, in a monotone voice, whispers, ‘Wow. She had some guts sleeping with your friend behind your back. Is that why Tariq left court suddenly?’

Liam’s head spins. He nods. ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ he whispers back.

He can’t say more. Not yet. He has to keep it together, for the sake of appearances. But there’s a lot he needs to think about.

He clears his throat and puts on his best regal smile, trying not to look at Amara, who is running out of the room. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, my security team and I will look into this matter as soon as possible, but for now, since everyone is unharmed, let’s resume the festivities.’

Most of the courtiers start chatting again, but Liam can see clearly that his close friends are trickling out, one by one, to follow Amara. Again.

He’s dying to do the same. Check on her, see if she’s holding up ok. This has happened two days in a row now. He can’t even imagine how targeted she must feel.

As the music starts again, his father approaches him. ‘Liam, you better invite your fiancée to dance again,’ he says. He gets closer to him and whispers in his ear, ‘See, when I told you it wasn’t a good idea to let strangers in. Now she has made a fool out of all of us.’

Liam frowns as his father goes back to his seat. This is awfully convenient. Just earlier, his father was trying to convince him not to let Amara stay, and now she was exposed and framed?

Yep, someone was taken for a fool alright.

Too bad for his father, Liam knows that the picture that was just projected up there does not depict a consensual encounter.

*****

Drake is breathless when he gets outside, where Amara is trying to calm down, near the fountain. ‘Here you are,’ he says, ‘are you ok?’

She nods and laughs through tears. ‘What the fuck, right? That was a setup?’

Drake sighs deeply. ‘I know. I don’t even know what to say.’

She shakes her head. ‘There’s nothing to say. We’re in the middle of a snake nest. There are some people in there who are not above staging a fucking sexual aggression to get what they want.’ She laughs nervously. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy Liam chose Madeleine, as in I’m happy he didn’t pick me, or Liv, or Hana. But man, it does hurt to see that the worst people get rewarded for their shitty actions.’

Drake nods and closes in the distance between them, enveloping Amara in a warm hug, not caring one bit if someone sees them. ‘Babe,’ he whispers, ‘I think Madeleine was helped by Bastien. He did tell me a while ago that whoever he works for has some dirt on you, I just thought the dirt was...well, Michael, after last night.’

Amara tightens her grip on Drake and takes a deep breath. ‘Fuck...I’m sorry, Drake, I know Bastien meant a lot to you.’

Drake snorts. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry, Amara. I wish I could make you feel better, right now.’

Amara smiles. ‘You are making me feel better. Just you being here with me helps.’

An out-of-breath Maxwell and a confused Michael join them outside. They both rush to Amara’s side and Maxwell exclaims, ‘Fuck, Amara, this is so bad. How are you feeling?’

Amara nods. ‘Dumbfounded. Can’t believe they’re making me relive this fucking moment and making it seem like I was enjoying it.’

Michael cuts in and hugs Amara. ‘I’m so sorry, hun, this is terrible. Did he—‘

Amara cuts him off. ‘This guy—Tariq—came to my room pretending it was his, and acted like I was trying to seduce him. I, um…’

Drake smiles sadly, remembering this infuriating yet badass moment. ‘She incapacitated him, like a boss. Tackled him and twisted his arm until he ran away like a pathetic bastard.’

Michael snorts. ‘That’s my girl. Did he hurt you?’

Amara shakes her head. ‘No, he didn’t have time. As you could see in the—‘ she sighs ‘pic...he did grab me, but right after that, he was on the ground.’

Michael takes a deep breath. ‘Shit. Did you report him? This is assault, Amara, you need to—‘

Amara cuts him off. ‘No, I probably should have, but to be honest, I would have been buried by the royal police. Tariq is a noble, and as I’m starting to realize, all security is pretty much corrupt these days…’

Drake’s eyes wander off. She’s right. He had trusted Bastien and the other members of the Royal Guard, but now it was clear that they only saw what they wanted to see. ‘You could still report him to the actual police, right?’

Amara shrugs. ‘Honestly? I probably could, but at this point it would look like I’m trying to bury this. Plus, I can’t shake the feeling that Tariq was actually telling the truth.’

Drake raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

She smiles weakly, and takes a seat on the foot of a column. The three men sit on the ground by her, Michael doing so carefully so as not to wrinkle Max’s tux. Amara continues. ‘It’s clear it was a setup, obviously. Like, the camera was ready to shoot the exact moment when it looked like I was consenting. I was set up, there’s no doubt about that.’ She pauses. ‘But maybe Tariq was set up too.’

Maxwell perks up. ‘You mean he was really told this was his room?’

She nods. ‘Yeah. He was so adamant that I was waiting for him in his room, at the time I was just annoyed and threatened by his insistence, but now I wonder why he had to say that. I mean, if he was sent to me to seduce me and get some pictures out of it, no need to serve me the whole room spiel, right?’

Drake nods. ‘Right. You’re right. Plus, I remember that, when I came in, and he was on the ground, he kept insisting on it. Like, would not let it go.’

Amara nods. ‘Exactly. No, this is a whole thing. It was planned all along.’

‘Where is that guy now?’ Michael asks. ‘Can we talk to him?’

Amara shrugs. ‘What for? Everyone thinks I’m a slut, I’m no longer welcome here, it’s pretty clear, huh?’

Maxwell puts his hand on her arm. ‘Not at all. We all want you here, Little Blossom. Hana and Liv stayed behind to gather some info, but they’re both devastated for you, this is outrageous and we’ll get to the bottom of this. We need you, babe.’

She takes Max’s hand and squeezes it. ‘Thanks, Max, but I heard some of the comments from the crowd. I’m being slutshamed for having been almost assaulted. And, I guess, for being in my underwear in my own room.’

‘We need to talk to this guy and figure it out,’ Michael insists. ‘Does anyone have his number? His address? I can go.’

Drake shakes his head. ‘I can give you both of those things, but Tariq disappeared from court after the assault. He was never seen again.’

Michael snorts. ‘Well, if that isn’t irrefutable proof that something’s up…’

‘That’s true,’ Drake agrees. ‘I was just happy to be rid of that asshole at the time, but now I suppose we could use his perspective.’

Amara laughs nervously. ‘Guys, this is useless. Can’t you see that this is a game I can’t win? Someone—no, let me get this right—several people don’t want me here, and they’re making damn sure I’m no longer welcome. It’s clear that over here, justice is not served. So...maybe I should just give the people what they want.’

*****

Hana separates from the group of former contestants and approaches the newly engaged couple. She and Liv agreed to stay behind, since Amara was well tended to, so that they could keep their eyes and ears open. This whole thing was crazy, everyone who was close to Amara knew that those pictures were a setup.

And a cruel one at that. Hana had felt extremely violated when the picture of her with Caroline had surfaced, because it divulged a very private side of her life. However, in this picture, she was fully clothed, and depicted with the person she loved. Nothing scandalous about that, unless you’re a bigot.

Liv’s leak was a lot more personal, since it involved her sex life, and nudity of course, but at least, it was not her naked body that had been circulated to the whole court —although Hana did feel bad for that poor Ilya, whose penis was now known by all of Cordonia.

This time, whoever was leaking pictures —Madeleine probably, even though she couldn’t have been the one who physically projected the picture tonight, as she was dancing— was putting someone in full display. On top of being literal defamation, this whole thing was circulating almost naked pictures of Amara. Hana couldn’t let that pass.

This time, justice would have to be served.

‘Congratulations again, you two!’ She says politely to Liam and Madeleine, with a brief curtsy. ‘I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ Madeleine purrs. ‘Now, I do hope to see you on the engagement tour. I will need all the help I can get, and Lord knows you are good at a lot of boring things.’

Liam chuckles, embarrassed. ‘Madeleine,’ he protests, ‘this is a little rude! Hana has many talents, none of them are boring,’ he adds.

Madeleine rolls her eyes. ‘Of course. Force of habit. I’m not used to not being in competition mode. Hana, will you forgive me?’

Hana thinks back to the cup of warm coffee that landed on her lap not too long ago. She forces a smile. ‘No apologies necessary. I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. In the meantime, may I be so forward as to inviting the Prince for a dance? Madeleine, you and I both know that I was never any type of competition.’

Madeleine sighs. ‘By all means.’

Liam holds out his arm for Hana to take. The two glide effortlessly across the dancefloor. Hana is such a good dancer, she doesn’t need to think of her next move, and can concentrate on her much needed conversation with Liam. ‘Liam, what happened?’ She asks, maintaining a perfect smile.

Liam sighs discreetly. ‘I don’t know, but it’s not good, Hana. How is she?’

‘Not sure. The guys are out with her. I’m so glad Michael’s here, in the end, it was a blessing in disguise.’

Liam smiles. ‘I know. I’m glad too. Look, I’m sure you know this as well, but this picture with Tariq… it was a setup. Amara told me about it after it happened, and he tried to assault her.’

Hana nods. ‘I know. Someone was out there waiting to take a picture of them. It’s despicable.’

Liam nods. ‘I think…’ he pauses for a long time, visibly struggling to find his words. ‘I think there are too many coincidences. Right before my Decision, I had been telling my father that I want to give a duchy to Amara, to—‘ he pauses again. ‘You know, as a gesture. An apology. Um…’ he lets go of Hana’s hand, ever so briefly, to run it through his hair. He continues. ‘Father was appalled. He reluctantly agreed to talk about it some more after the Ball. And now, now this is completely soiling her reputation, which is perfect for Father. I hate to say this, Hana, but… I do think he was involved.’

Hana nods. ‘Liam, I’m sorry. You must be so disappointed… At the same time, he’s the King, and your father, you can’t exactly go around accusing him, right?’

Liam nods, a sad smile on his lips. ‘You’re right, I can’t. No one can, really, at least not without proof.’

Hana sighs. ‘So, what do we do?’

Liam shrugs. ‘I don’t think we have many options.’

She nods decidedly. ‘We have to find Tariq, and investigate.’

Liam smiles a bit more earnestly. ‘Exactly. And Hana?’

‘Yes?’

‘I hope I didn’t make a fucking huge mistake,’ he whispers as he looks to Madeleine.

*****

Amara is still sitting on that column, her head buried in her hands. Next to her, Maxwell and Michael are trying to get a hold of Tariq but she feels like it’s in vain. Even if they track him down, and he confesses or whatever, so what? What is it gonna change?

And, even if the picture they projected is a lie, a painful reminder of the time she was almost assaulted, well, the message behind it is true, isn’t it?

She is sleeping with the Prince’s friend. She did fall in love with him, and that night, she did disrobe and say ‘come in’ to Tariq because she thought he was Drake.

Drake’s arms are around her, he’s soothing her gently. She’s so grateful for this man, for his presence, his strength, his compassion… But she’s tired of needing him to comfort her.

Tired of being meek, of being fragile. Now that her old wounds are closing up a bit, now that things are pretty much patched up with Michael, life has to throw another pile of shit at her, and yet again, she needs her friends to run out of the Palace to follow her teary-ass self.

That’s not the person she wants to be. Enough. Not again.

She lifts up her head and looks at Drake. ‘Babe?’ He asks hesitantly.

She smiles at him. ‘Walker, let’s get the fuck out of here.’

*****

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