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pufflyhallows · 3 years

Text

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven… Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

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

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

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

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

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

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #random tag

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mayakern · 3 years

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No pressure but I'd love to hear some more puppy tips! Im a recent totally independent adult and Id love to get a puppy at some point but def need some info before I take on the responsibility (I had no clue their bladder develops at 5 months even though Ive been researching which is why I wonder if you have any more tips)

sorry in advance bc this is gonna be a LOT of preamble, but any time you bring an animal into your home it’s a huge responsibility and requires a lot of preparation.

so in general i am a huge advocate for adopting adult animals, especially dogs — UNLESS you have very specific lifestyle requirements (like we do). we needed a dog that was good with cats, other dogs, AND toddlers… which is just not a thing you can easily find adopting through a shelter, especially not in our area (NYC residents snatch up all the dogs within like a 5 hour radius) and ESPECIALLY not after covid (when a ton of people adopted dogs). which meant we needed to get a puppy so we could train in the behavior we needed.

we knew we wanted a companion dog for annie and that i want to have dogs forever and that it is a LOT easier to train in a puppy if you have an adult dog to model behavior from. so with our needs in mind, we started looking for a dog that would be compatible both with our lifestyle and with annie’s personality/energy level (she is a mid to low energy sheep dog and can be kind of a crab ass, but she is also very gentle and doesn’t like playing with dogs who are bigger than her). we did our own research and also talked to a couple friends of ours who work as or have worked as vet techs/other dog jobs.

with all that in mind… a LOT of what is good for a new puppy is going to be breed specific. if you’re getting a mutt, this can be difficult because puppies can look like literally anything so you really have no idea what they are until they’ve grown up a bit — and even then it can be tricky. like, we’re PRETTY sure annie is a border collie/australian shepherd mix because she looks like a border collie but acts like an aussie, but mixed breeds can be difficult because even if you’re reasonably certain which breeds go into the grab bag that is your dog, you never know which traits actually made it in. this is part of why standardized breeds can be such a big deal, since temperament is a BIG part of the package.

we got insanely lucky with annie because we knew her original owner so we had already met (and loved) her, knew her temperament, and that she was good with cats and gentle enough that toddlers would probably be fine too.

ALL THIS TO SAY…. the 5 month bladder control is specific to shibas. other puppies might have a similar timeline but i’m not sure. also, in general it’s recommended to take your puppy out with a frequency equivalent to the amount of months they have been alive (so if 2 months, then a potty break every 2 hours). this isn’t exact and you’ll need to get to know your dog. puppies also have very small bladders and relatively little bladder control (and don’t know they need to control it) and depending on the size of the dog, it is very normal for them to need to pee within 10-30 minutes of drinking water. because of this, it’s a good idea to give your puppy periodic planned water breaks and then take them outside instead of just leaving water out all the time. one thing i have done to figure out where rodeo is at is to give him water while we’re at the park (i have a collapsible water bowl and i bring a water bottle for the 3 of us) and then time him from when he drinks to when he pees, since in that situation he has total free reign over his potty time.

puppies need a LOT of recreation and in addition to walks, they need mental stimulation. scent games are invaluable for this!! i like to scatter a mixture of kibble and treats (in small sizes) across either the backyard or a safe portion of park and let the dogs sniff out and forage. they LOVE this shit. it might take some patience with a puppy if you don’t already have an adult dog to model the behavior, but once they get it they love it (especially if you use a treat they love). i literally cannot recommend this enough, it gets out SO many puppy beans in one go and i get to just chill behind them and like play phone games or call a friend. once your dog is used to this you can gradually decrease the ratio of high value vs low value treats for this, but puppies get bored easily so i recommend like… high mid value, if that makes sense. like you don’t need to give them hot dogs for this, but they probably won’t be super pumped for just kibbles. BUT if they ever are good with just kibbies, then you can use this method for every meal and it will make them so tired. it’s great!!

aaaand my last big tip is to clicker train. this can be a bit confusing to read about so i recommend watching videos to familiarize yourself with how it works, but it is SUPER worth it! puppies pick up on reward patterns super fast but do not have a long attention span and might have no idea what you’re rewarding them for if you don’t start them out with a clicker. i can’t speak for less clever breeds, but rodeo picked up the clicker training in the first day and i accidentally trained the corgi puppy downstairs on the clicker too since he and rodeo play together so much lol.

anyway this was a horrifically long post, i hope it helps. honestly i would not recommend getting a puppy unless you can work from home and have a decent chunk of time to dedicate to raising a literal baby (in fur form).

#ask #long post #dog blogging #pet blogging

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

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i think this is one of the quotes anon was talking about: https://thegilly.tumblr.com/post/29568742275/the-beatles-and-me-by-neil-aspinall-scanned

(Link) (CW eating disorders)

That magazine article actually breaks my heart - the way that he’s legitimately torturing himself is just so upsetting. And in reading about John dieting the way he did, I can especially empathise with him because ive had a lot of the same experiences.

Some points I took note of from the article are:

1. John ate one meal a day, which was steak with a large salad - that means he was probably eating less then a 1000 calories a day, and id guess he was maybe only getting about 800 (?) calories a day at most with that diet. 800 calories or less is literally starvation.

2. “John wont even look at bread” - this is the definition of an ‘unsafe food’. People with restrictive ED’s do eat, but they tend to have “safe” and “unsafe” foods. I suspect John considers bread unsafe because he knows its a binge food, and a food that he thinks will cause him weight gain - again, its just so sad that he would put himself through this misery. I also think that he probably felt meats were probably relatively safe for him to eat.

3. He had two different suits - one for when he was at his normal, healthy weight and another for when he had lost weight. He would bring them both on tour with him because his weight would fluctuate so much.

4. His regular weight was about 159lbs; apparently he was around 139lbs when he died (at least, thats what a quick google search tells me, so I don’t know how true that is. But certainly he was far thinner by the time he died).

5. “Right before a tour, he’ll do everything he can to lose weight” - this appears to speak especially to the theory that Johns ED might have been sparked largely by the pressures of fame and publicity.

6. “John hardly touches his salad, and he wont even look at the other boys eat.” - He’s eating the most miserable meal on the planet guys :’(

7. “John begins to look at me apprehensively. He has hunger pains in his eyes! Finally, when he is about to “break down” I…pull out the meat sandwiches.” - He was in actual, physical pain because he was so hungry.

8. “John takes the meat out of the sandwiches and eats every tiny sliver he can find. Then he stuffs the leftover slices of bread into a bag, which I take from him (so that he wont break down again and eat those).” - I would constitute this behaviour as a “binge”, because to me a binge is not based necessarily on the quantity of food you eat, or the amount of calories you take in, but more so about how in control and contented you are during and after eating. John wasn’t in control here, and its because its his bodies natural reaction when its in starvation mode.

9. “[Johns] main complaint is ‘How come Paul never gains an ounce — and he eats twice as much as I do?’”

10. “John is sure some kind of curse is set on his head — or is stomach as it were!”

Im not going to judge everyone for seemingly not making any real efforts to help John recover from his ED, because I don’t think ED’s became something that the general public were aware of until about the early 80s with Karen Carpenters death - and its taken years for people to even really begin recognising that a lot of men also suffer from ED’s! And so im not going to criticise them for not recognising that John legitimately was displaying symptoms of an ED, but I do think its just really sad that they were all watching John starve and torture himself, and couldn’t really do anything about it. And because they weren’t recognising him as mentally ill here, they probably all just accepted his diet as a bit of a laugh, whilst still knowing there was something more sinister underpinning it.*

(*I wonder however what Paul might have thought about all this, because we know that Paul was prone to being a sort of caretaker for John, and in a lot of ways “mothered” him. I feel like Paul would’ve recognised that only eating one meal a day was a problem, and maybe sort of laughed it off a bit because he couldn’t have known it was a legitimate mental illness - but also, I hope he would try to encourage John to eat. Id like to hear him talk about this in an interview someday, though I doubt anyone would ask him about this stuff)

This is just genuinely one of the most depressing things ive ever read about John, and if its a topic you feel comfortable reading id encourage anyone to give it a read (although if you think it could be damaging for your mental health, id say avoid it!).

And overall, im just really surprised that no biographer appears to have ever really spoken about this topic in a nuanced manner.

#cw ed #cw anorexia #cw eating disorder #john lennon ed #john lennon #johns psyche #this just makes me so so sad #he reminds me so much of ME #and thats just sad #like reading about seeing hunger in his eyes #<<< i know that pain!! i know that hunger!#@sergeantpeppa

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

waldosia.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: this is intended to be part of the ajf universe (berry hill section), but also stands alone! berry hill is probably good to read before this one, just for a little context. this takes place a couple of weeks after berry hill, during the last few minutes of lauren, and continues through the end of season six. there will be two more parts of this section!

summary: the team reels from emily’s loss and finds footing as best they can in the new normal, until, of course, the rug is pulled out from under them again.

words: ~3k warnings: canon death, language, more slow burning

berry hill (part 1) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

There’s nothing worse than the silence of the waiting room. JJ paces back and forth, waiting and watching for movement down the hall. Hotch has been restless as well, sitting and standing and wandering in equal measure. Seaver perches on her chair, her bare toes digging into the rough fabric of the seat. She’s quiet, staring into nothing.

Dave sits beside her, his elbows on his knees, his hands laced together. His lips never stop moving, and you’re sure he’s praying. It’s odd to see him there without Emily. Much like Derek and Penelope, they usually stick together in tragedy or stress. It’s more than strange to see him without her - almost like missing a limb you didn’t know he had.

You find your eyes tracking Aaron more often than not. There’s tension in his forehead, and his mouth is tight. Your first instinct is, of course, to soothe his hurt, but there’s so much of your own. He meets your eyes, and you pat the seat next to you.

With a heavy sigh, he sits down beside you.

Your voice is quiet, as to not disturb the stillness of the room. “When’s the last time you ate?”

He shakes his head. You reach out and slip your hand into his elbow. He covers it with his own and you lean against each other. Derek and Penelope are in a similar position across from you. She’s tucked under his arm, her hand rubbing back and forth over his chest, still spattered with Emily’s blood.

You can’t imagine what he’s feeling. If it had been Aaron…

The thought is too unbearable to consider. Aaron’s arm flexes around your hand, and you realized the thought brought your shoulders to your ears.

“Are you alright?” His voice is the barest whisper.

You nod. “Just thinking of Derek.”

He takes a deep breath. You know he understands.

‘“I was just...if it had been -”

“Don’t.” His whisper breaks over the word, and his fingers slip between yours around his arm. Your breath catches in the smallest of sobs, and you turn your head into him.

Hours and hours and hours pass. You think you fall asleep once or twice, but it’s fitful and not at all restful. Hotch is back to pacing - traveling a path from the door to the back room and back to you.

Eventually, he sits again, leaning against you once more. You can feel the exhaustion radiating from him. At a certain point, you take him under your arm. He leans his head into your shoulder and closes his eyes. You’re certain he doesn’t get any sleep, but you appreciate the effort. It’s all for you.

JJ returns, and you all straighten, waiting for her to say something. She can’t speak.

Penelope says something, but you can’t hear her. You can’t hear JJ, though you know her mouth is moving. You sag forward, nearly falling out of your chair. Aaron catches you as he stands, his arms locked around you.

Spencer rushes past JJ, but she stops him. They speak, but you still can’t hear over the rushing in your ears. You find your feet and turn into Aaron, whose hand presses your head to his chest. Your whole body buzzes with something cold and unpleasant, like a shot straight to your nervous system. You’d take a bullet again, rather than feel this.

Slowly, he guides you to the chair on the other side of Penelope. You cling to her, Aaron’s jacket still around you. She’s sobbing, and you can’t feel a thing. When you look up again, JJ has her arms around Spencer, who looks much like you. Broken. Soggy. Weak.

Tired eyes track Aaron as he rounds the corner to the back hallway. JJ finds him a minute later, and you still can’t hear them.

You can’t hear anything.

+++

The funeral is wretched. When the hearse arrives, you help Aaron with his white pallbearer gloves, buttoning them around his wrists and straightening his tie. Your hands linger on his lapel. His shaky breath shudders through him under your hands, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed.

One of his hands covers yours and you grasp his fingers.

It’s too soon.

We can’t do this again.

It’s too soon.

“There’s never enough time,” he says, almost inaudible.

You squeeze his hand and release him, smoothing out his coat and collar and the hair at his temples before letting him pass. Derek and Spencer take the first pair of handles, Dave and Anderson the second. Will and Hotch share a look before taking the final pair.

You offer your arm to JJ, who takes it, and you follow the men across the cemetery. Penelope and Ashley trail behind you, also arm-in-arm.

Ashley’s been a gift - quiet and warm and observant - through this whole ordeal. You’ve done your best to welcome her into the fold. She doesn’t need to feel like a replacement or a burden. She’s a member of your team. Maybe not a member of your family, but your teammate nevertheless.

The whole affair is far too quiet, far too solemn, to really be a celebration of Emily’s life. Hotch returns to your side once she’s laid over her grave. He gives you a rose and an arm. You take both, the wool of his coat soft against your fingers. Both he and JJ decided to leave the boys at home, but wouldn’t tell you why.

Privately, you figure it’s too much for Jack, and it would be best to keep him and Henry together. Two funerals in as many years is too much for anyone, let alone someone just six. Jess is with the boys at JJ’s house. There’s nothing that woman can’t do, and you love her for it.

Looking around, you realize everyone in attendance is a familiar face. Emily’s mother is the only one you don’t know well, but you’d know a Prentiss anywhere. She dabs at her face with a handkerchief, and a well of spite rises within you. There’s no reason for her to be here.

You’re her family. You will survive her.

+++

Derek is in shambles. You spend as much time with him as you can, but he’s more withdrawn than you’ve ever seen him. JJ and Spencer have clung together, as have you and Aaron. Dave and Derek aren’t as close, and they’re both wildly independent, so they’ve sort of drifted in Emily’s absence.

It’s your mission to keep them in one piece - sharing meals and filling empty evenings with movies and poker and company. You find yourself at Dave’s often, with Jack in your lap and Hotch and Derek on either side of you.

You have rapidly become the team’s backbone - a role you take on with energy and a certain degree of joy. Taking care of them helps you forget your own grief, and never leaves you without company.

+++

Seaver’s graduation is a spot of joy in an otherwise dreary few months. You shout and whistle at all the appropriate times, remembering all too well what it felt like on the other side. There’s a moment where you share a smile with Hotch, and it almost feels normal.

“Remember that?” You ask, tipping your chin toward Seaver. She’s beaming, holding her new credentials in her hand as she greets her family.

He nods. “Do you?”

You snort. “Oh, please. How could I forget?” The day lives rent-free in your mind. Hotch passing you your credentials, badge, and ID tag is a memory that will stay with you forever.

“Glad I made an impression.” His smirk is well-concealed, but you elbow him in the ribs for good measure.

“Shut up.”

He quirks a brow at you, and you grin.

Almost normal. Almost.

+++

Your phone wakes you, and you pick it up right away, recognizing your ringtone for Hotch. “Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

You flip your bedside lamp on and rub your eyes. You’d be lying if you said you were getting any sleep yourself, and you’re almost relieved you have some kind of company. “Hey, Aaron. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you -”

“You didn’t.”

He pauses. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I could hazard a guess it’s the same reason as you.” You play with the comforter, the fabric a necessary distraction. “Is Jack still with Jessica?”

“Yeah, for the rest of the week. He’s got a school trip thing, and I didn’t want to leave him if a case came up. They’ll be back from the mountains on Sunday afternoon.”

Your lower lip disappears between your teeth. “Do you want any company? Sometimes it’s -”

“Please.” He cuts you off, and you snap your mouth shut, already throwing the covers back.

“I’ll be there soon.”

The drive is quiet, the Virginia highways barren at nearly two in the morning. You pull into the garage in your usual guest spot and climb the stairs.

Though you have a key, you knock twice before using it.

Always good form to warn an armed federal agent when you’re about to enter his home in the goddamn middle of the night.

He invited you.

Yeah, still. Would hate to get shot on a night off.

The kitchen light is on when you enter, and you lock the door behind you before checking it out. You leave your shoes at the door and drop your keys in the dish.

He's standing at the counter, fixing two cups of tea. Wordlessly, he passes one to you.

You follow him to the bedroom, turning lights off as you go. He slips under the covers, and pats the covers.

“Thanks for the tea,” you say, settling in beside him.

It’s become sort of routine. Since Berry Hill, sharing a bed has become far less taboo and far more common. Even when Jack’s home, you’ve set up the couch for yourself before spending the night next to Aaron. That way, you can wake up early and settle in the living room before he wakes up, or make it look like you slept on the couch even if he wakes to find you in his father’s room.

The element of surprise is always a gift - Jack is more than thrilled to find you whenever you spend the night. He doesn’t know to ask questions, and really you aren’t sure what you’d say even if he did.

Aaron would probably have the words. He’s good at that kind of stuff.

You sit together in silence, sipping out of your mugs and enjoying the quiet darkness. When you’re done, you leave it on the coaster on your bedside - well, on the bedside table.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask.

Aaron’s been finished for a while, his empty mug on his table. He’s already settled in, laying on his side toward you with his hand tucked under his cheek. “Not tonight.”

“Is it Emily?”

He nods. “Yeah, something like that.” There’s more, but he’s never been too good at articulating his feelings. You’ve learned it’s best to just keep him company and not push too hard.

You slide down, bringing the covers up to your chin. “Come here.”

He smiles in the dark and wraps you in his arms. It’s already easier to close your eyes, and you know you won’t be half as scared to confront what you find behind them. His breath fans across the top of your head, much more steady than when you arrived. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Sleep tight, Aaron.”

He tucks his face into your hair, and after a few moments, you hear his breath slow and even out. You lean back, finding his face completely relaxed.

That’s better.

With him asleep, you’re able to tune out your thoughts in favor of his heartbeat against your cheek.

+++

Jack is long asleep when it’s your turn to need company. You’re on the couch, wrapped in Aaron’s arms, sobbing into his chest. Earlier, you found a bank of recorded shows in your cable box that you were waiting to watch with Emily. The realization that you’d never be able to watch them with her knocked you out at the knees, and there was nothing you could do but sit on the floor and cry.

When you caught your breath, you called Aaron and took a cab over to the apartment. Your tears didn’t let up for a single moment on the way there, and started anew when you saw him.

You couldn’t speak, but he just led you to the couch and let you curl up against him. With his cheek against your hair, he rubs your back until you can finally breath without hiccuping.

“What was it?”

“The shows.” You sniff, and wipe your nose on your sleeve. “I was saving shows to watch with her. They didn’t stop recording. I didn’t think to -” A fresh wave starts, and you tuck your head back into his shoulder. You do your best not to wail, keeping quiet for Jack’s sake, “I didn’t think to stop recording them. I don’t even really like them, but we always watched together.”

His next words are familiar to you. “It’s all about the routine.”

Those are the same words you used after Haley died. One of his first breakdowns after her death came when he was packing Jack’s bag for the week, getting ready to drop him off at her place. When he realized there was nowhere to go, nowhere to take him, it knocked the life out of him just like your shows did tonight.

“Once you find something to fill the space,” you’d told him, “things get a lot easier to manage.”

And it was true. That was the first weekend he called you to come spend the day with Jack, and your time together patched some of the holes.

He squeezes you to him. “Do you want to find something to watch together? We can start a new show or maybe movie nights with Jack? Maybe with Will, JJ, and Henry? What do you think?”

You give him a watery smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

+++

Andy Swan is a trip and a half, and you find yourself liking her a little more than you thought you would. She and Aaron have a great deal of history, and you enjoy the way they give each other a hard time - pushing and pulling for control of a stressful investigation. They’re different, but highly complementary in their leadership.

It almost reminds you of your relationship with Derek - mutual respect in droves, but a supreme lack of patience, and a little more good humor than is actually necessary.

It’s only when the case is over that shit hits the fan.

You’re all in the conference room following the successful completion of the case. Doyle, of course, has been on your minds since Emily’s death, and you spend at least fifteen hours a week maintaining the not-so-sanctioned investigation into his whereabouts.

But this wasn’t about Doyle.

“I’ve been assigned to a joint task force in Pakistan for an indefinite amount of time.”

The news knocks the breath out of you, and your eyes flicker around the table. Everyone is just as shocked as you are, though you’d like to imagine the short-circuit you’re experiencing is all your own.

“What do you mean?” The question leaves your lips before you can stop it, and Hotch’s brown eyes meet yours. There’s an apology in them.

“Tomorrow, I leave for Pakistan. I’m not sure how long I will be gone. Derek will take over as Acting Unit Chief in the meantime.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “You’re kidding.”

“You carried off the job very well last year, and I have no doubt you will have the same amount of success in my absence.”

Derek looks like he wants to speak again, but refrains.

“I understand this is less than convenient. You’ll all have the declassified brief in your inboxes by the end of the day today with more information about the transition. You’re all dismissed for the day.” With a final nod, he walks out of the conference room, leaving you all slack-jawed and more than a little confused.

JJ’s eyes meet yours, and you shrug. You ask, “Has he said anything about this to you?”

“I’ve heard approximately nothing about it,” she replies, peering down the hall.

Goddamn you, Hotchner.

He’s packing up his briefcase when you pass his office. You don’t stop, sitting down at your desk. You’re surprised frost doesn’t rise from the ground at your feet.

There’s a moment where he stops at your desk on the way out of the bullpen, but you just stare at him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it. After a moment, he finally says, “Jack is with Jessica tonight.”

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it’s enough to drop his shoulders and send him on his way, defeated.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @lilsiswinchester @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @mrshotchnerrossimulder21 @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @forgottenword @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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mooncademia · 4 years

Note

Hello, I love your writing very much ! Could you write a comfort scenario with aizawa x wife where his wife failed and she’s slighty injured at the hospital plz sorry if i made mistake i'm not an english speaker😅

Ahhh! Thank you so much for liking my writing (im crying heart emojis 😭it truly means a lot) and for your lovely request! I love this scenario and I hope you enjoy!! (your english is amazing btw!)

Always

PAIRING ~ Aizawa x reader

GENRE ~ fluff/comfort

SUMMARY ~ Hospital visits are not fun at all, and when Aizawa got notice that his wife was in the hospital, he quickly came to you with no hesitation but with overwhelming love and support.

WORD COUNT ~ 1.2k

Aizawa Shouta is usually calm during frantic situations. From being a pro-hero for so long and a teacher at U.A, he had his fair share of quick-thinking during catastrophic events. With his rational, cool mind and his intelligent wits, he knows what to do during emergencies.

But today was not such a case.

…Your wife is currently at Musutafu’s General Hospital…

Those words just couldn’t get out of his head. He received a phone call lunch break while he was grading papers from yesterday at the teachers’ office and hearing those words made his heart raced immediately into fight-or-flight mode. Excusing himself from U.A during the middle of the day was probably one of the most irrational things he may have ever done (especially at the fact that he was literally homeroom teacher of U.A), and even though Principal Nezu has given him full permission to leave early with total understandable approval, one will still probably feel a slight embarrassed or ashamed…but to Aizawa, he couldn’t care less at the moment.

He just needed to see you. Now.

What if you are— He thought as he ran to the entrance of the hospital with brows furrowed and raven-black hair as messily as ever from racing through it with his fingers for the millionth time (a habit he does when he’s stress).

No. You are alive. Aizawa’s other side replied back. With a low grunt, he paced to the front counter, exchanged names and ID with the lady, and headed straight to your located room.

Heart pounding in his ears, Aizawa felt that he could crumble any second now as he slid the door to see you bandaged up around your ribs and arms. Your head was facing the other side, not noticing the door being opened.

“Y/N,” Aizawa croaked as he immediately walked towards you.

You turned your head to see your husband right next to you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Shouta?” You exclaimed. “Why are you-“ You stammered as you realized that it is the middle of the day and he should be in U.A. “I’m so sorry for disturbing you at work.”

Aizawa sat down next to you and grabbed your hand softly. “Don’t you dare apologize, Y/N. I- I should have been there…I could have-“

“It’s not as bad as it looks, Shouta. Really. It is just a small concussion and a few minor bruises on my ribs and arms, but nothing’s broken,” you said to him as you curled your fingers easily to prove it. But that didn’t seem to erase the distress on Aizawa’s face. “Hey, who was the one who was all bandaged up that Hizashi Yamada began calling you ‘mummy man’?”

Aizawa couldn’t help but smile at your teasing as he glided his hand to your cheek.

“Ok, we are not going to be comparing injuries.”

As Aizawa caressed your forehead, you felt warm at the heart. It may be selfish of you for feeling this given that your husband sacrificed his work time to see you, but you were so glad that he was there by your side at the moment. The scene from this morning’s incident couldn’t go away and you swelled up as you told him your story.

“The villain can copy people’s voices exactly. It was a mimic quirk,” you explained looking down at your bed so your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “After splitting up, I heard a wail from my teammate upstairs, and I quickly ran up to help her. But instead of seeing my partner, it was just the villain hiding behind one of the corners…and I was too late to notice…I couldn’t-“ you curled your fingers into a fist as anguished filled your lungs. “I couldn’t capture him and instead I was stupidly knocked unconscious.” You finished bitterly as you reflected back on your failure. Hearing your teammate scream in pain pushed your buttons to move, but instead of seeing your teammate, you felt an eerie presence behind you and all you could remember was the villain’s smug smile and a painful knock on your head.

You have failed in missions before, but if you had been a tad bit wiser or quicker, you might have sensed that something was odd immediately when you couldn’t find your teammate.

“Hey, look at me,” Aizawa said in a stern voice, popping you back into reality from your bitter thoughts. He lifted your chin up so you could see his face. “You didn’t do anything wrong. His quirk wasn’t revealed yet until you found out.”

“But I was so weak-“

“And what if that voice was your teammate calling for help? You did your best Y/N, don’t put all the blame to yourself. It’s okay to feel bad…but remember to let go.” His tone was deep and gentle. “And plus…failure doesn’t mean you’re weak because true weakness is holding onto that image of yourself and not moving forward.”

You were stunned to hear such powerful words coming out of your husband’s mouth. Sure, Aizawa has lifted your moods with his comforting supportive talks, but the gaze he held was full of sincerity that it not only soothed your fired emotions, but it also made you feel a strange surge of determination and hope.

“Thank you, Socrates,” you joked with a twinkle in you eye that made Aizawa’s lips twitch a smile as he rolled his eyes and leaned forward to give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Anytime.” He replied back softly with his half-lidded eyes more mesmerizing than ever.

Aizawa then headed out the door to come back carrying a bag of takeout with a familiar logo on it. “You must be hungry,” he said as he laid the bag on the table next to you, popped open the lid of the container, and fed you your favorite warm soup that you always order from that restaurant.

As Aizawa fed you (he refused for you to do any work, including lifting up a spoon with your bandaged arms), he began to talk to you about his day so far, making you laugh and smile as you listen to his stories. Sometimes it is just the mundane things—like talking about one’s day— that eases your mind and body back to a familiar state that makes you feel cozily content.

As you exchanged conversations and finished your meal, your eyes began to droop and before you could reach to grab the blankets, Aizawa swooped down and grabbed them for you.

“No. Let me,” he said ever so smoothly.

Gosh, he really was perfect.

You smiled warmly at him as you grasped the back of his neck and pulled him close for a kiss.

As Aizawa caressed your cheek softly, you noticed him still sitting next to you comfortably.

“Shouldn’t you return to U.A?” You asked.

Aizawa shook his head. “I’m staying here with you.”

You intertwined his fingers with his and hummed happily in reply as you propped your head comfortably on the pillow.

“Love you, Shouta,” you mumbled as your finally closed your eyes.

You didn’t see it, but Aizawa smiled at you with a smile that would probably make his whole class turn to stone in shock (and perhaps endless teasing from Present Mic), because it was just that beautiful.

“I love you too, Y/N. Always.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #eraserhead #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #bnha aizawa #cue the bon jovi song:#ALWAYYYYYYYYSSSSSSSSSSS #sorry #i just had to

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borhap-au · 3 years

Text

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Passed out.

Joe looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw you. You definitely caught his attention while you were walking down the street. You looked at him, but didn’t smile back. You were feeling sick and dizzy, you leaned on the wall to support yourself. You were breathing heavily and closed your eyes, hoping it would just go away. But it didn’t. Joe looked at you a bit surprised, not knowing what’s happening, but he wasn’t the one to bother strangers and he just assumed you were sad, maybe after a heartbreak. But as he approached you, you only felt worse and worse and finally you slipped down the wall and fell on the ground. Joe immediately run up to you.

“Excuse me? Miss? Are you alright?” He kneeled next to you and gently squeezed your hand to see if you respond. When you didn’t, he leaned over you and put his ear close to your mouth in hopes to hear your breath while also observing your chest. It was moving up and down steadily and he could hear your breath, so he sighed relieved. He lied you on your back and put your legs on your bag and his backpack to aid blood flow to the brain. He loosen the belt you had on your dress and took his phone to immediately call 911.

He stayed with you until the help arrived. They took you to the ambulance and asked whether Joe knew you. He admitted he didn’t, but he felt weirdly responsible for you, so he asked whether he could go with you. They agreed.

After they run all the exams and made sure you’re going to be alright, they put you in a room until you regain consciousness. After some time, you finally did. You slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the bright lights in the room. Joe smiled at you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asked and you looked at him trying to remember when you saw him before. He was like a fainted memory. You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry.

“Water?” you grunted quietly. He nodded and walked out of the room to try and find some water. When he did, he came back and helped you sit up and take a few sips.

“Is it better?” you nodded your head and covered yourself with the quilt.

“Why am I here?” you asked and Joe explained you how you passed out and needed to be rushed to the hospital. “And why are you here?” He didn’t have a good answer to that, other than he just needed to make sure this absolute stranger is feeling better.

“Empathy, I guess,” he smiled a bit embarrassed. “I just needed to make sure you’re going to be alright. I found you, so…” he shrugged. You gave him a little smile.

“Thank you for that. And for everything,” you put your hand on his and squeezed it gently. “If there is anything I can do for you, tell me. I’d like to repay you somehow for taking care of me.”

“Nonsense. I did what anyone would do, you don’t need to thank me for anything. And you most definitely don’t have repay me,” he replayed and pet your hand with his thumb. “I’m just glad to see you’re okay.”

“I insist. Can I at least… Invite you for a cup of coffee?” you took your hand away and smiled at the beautiful stranger.

“I don’t think coffee would be good in your current situation…”

“Then dinner. Let me invite you to a dinner. Please,” you didn’t give up. “Tonight.”

“Well, I guess I need to make sure nothing bad will happen to you. My car is parked not far from here, I can take you home,” he suggested and you nodded your head. You weren’t from this part of the town, it would be a long walk home.

“Yes, and after that, I will invite you to a great Italian restaurant near my home. We’re settled,” you smiled proudly. He chuckled and nodded.

“Alright then. We can do that,” he finally agreed. “I’m Joe, by the way,” he smiled and reached out his hand.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself and shook his hand. “So Joey, huh? That’s the name of my prince in shining armor?” He chuckled hearing that. “Joseph the Great,” you joked smiling at him.

“I’m hardly that. I’m just glad I could help.”

Soon after that a doctor joined you. When they made sure you’re going to be okay, they monitored your heartbeat and talked with you about potential causes of the fainting and how to avoid them, they let you go. You held Joe’s arm as you were walking to his car. Less of a necessity, more of a personal pleasure, but you didn’t let it be known. He opened the door for you and you thanked him as you got in.

“Can I change the station?” you asked during the trip.

“Sure,” he nodded his head and you immediately tried to find the radio station that played classic rock 24/7. When you did, the beginning of “Somebody to love” could be heard from the speakers.

“I love this song,” you smiled sitting more comfortably in your chair.

“Me too. It’s my favorite Queen song, if not my favorite song in general,” he smiled and you looked at him surprised.

“Really?” he nodded. “It’s my favorite too!” And it was just the beginning of things you had it common. You talked about movies, TV series, books, and you found out you had very similar taste. While in the restaurant, you both ordered the same meal without consulting each other beforehand.

“Of course I like that movie. Come on, it’s about dinosaurs, who doesn’t like them?” you smiled. “Like Jurassic Park. It’s a classic!”

“You like it?” he smiled and in that moment you confirmed what he already suspected to be true – you had no idea who he was.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I watched it for the first time when as a kid and totally loved it. All other action movies usually only had adults in it, this one was better, cause it had kids I could relate to,” you smiled and drank your water while he tried to hide his smirk.

“And what do you think about the ginger kid? I think he was quite lame…” he started, but you didn’t let him finish.

“Take that back!” you chuckled. “I won’t allow you to say a bad word about him. He’s my biggest childhood crush,” Joe couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. The situation was just too funny for him. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he moved his napkin on his lips pretending to wipe them, while in reality he was hiding his big smile.

“No, it’s not nothing. Tell me what’s so funny. Are you laughing at me?” He shook his head.

“No, no. I’m just happy you liked my performance, that’s all,” it took you a second to realize what he meant.

“No, come on. It’s not possible,” you muttered in disbelief.

“Joe Mazzello, nice to meet you,” he even took out his ID to prove you he’s not joking. You looked at it and immediately turned red.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now for not recognizing you. That’s why you looked so familiar… Oh, God. Once again, so so sorry. I must still be dizzy from earlier,” you tried to justify yourself.

“Don’t worry about it. It was actually nice not to be treated differently because of my work for once. Quite refreshing,” he reassured you.

“Well… One thing I have to admit, you know how to make a great impression on a girl even without your star status.”

“I’ll drink to that,” chuckled and lifted his glass with lemonade and you clinked your glasses then both of you drank your non-alcohol drinks. “So, you had a crush on me, huh?” he chuckled quietly.

“I feel so embarrassed right now!” you turned even more red.

“Come on, it was cute!” he chuckled quietly.

“No, it’s embarrassing and you know it. Go on, tell me who your crush was…”

The conversation didn’t stop there, neither did your relation. It soon turned into a boyfriend/girlfriend situation and let me tell you, Joe loved telling everyone the story of how he “saved your life” on your first meeting. You found it annoying at first, but with time you learned to love it. After all, that situation brought you two together.

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n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

Text

The Times They Are a-Changin’ (Little Brother!Sweet Pea)

A/N: Happy graduation to our class of Riverdale High School, and welcome back Sweet Pea even though you said like ten words during the episode. You looked great in the background, buddy. Here’s a little something about Ruthie and Sweet Pea and how they’re reacting to his graduation.

Word Count: 6,508

tagging @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @humangrumpycat @brittanyvengeance, and @thecaptainsgingersnap for encouraging me to post!

The winds of change had been blowing in Riverdale as of lately with students and parents alike crossing off the calendar days until graduation. It was a constant bittersweet reminder with banners going up in store windows congratulating the graduating class of Riverdale High School, baker cakes being custom-ordered with names written in black icing cursive. Ruthie can’t help but feel a bitter tug at her chest as she pushes the shopping cart across the grocery store, checking off the mile-long list of ingredients that Maria and Atzi needed to make food for the big party. Ruthie tosses a few more items into the wobbly metal cart and makes her way to the checkout stand, trying not to be impatient as she waited. There’s a handful of people in front of her in line, mothers buying last minute ingredients for favorite meals to be eaten as a high school graduate, a gaggle of teens seeing if their fake IDs were actually good enough to buy a case of cheap beer to bring to whatever party was inevitably happening that weekend. Ruthie thumbs through the rack of cards propped up by the register and plucks out one with a lot of space to write in.

When she was out of the grocery store (with significantly less money in her pocket), Ruthie is overcome with this sudden feeling of “rightness”. She doesn’t have to worry about pinching pennies and stretching paychecks to make ends meet any more, she no longer feared trips to the grocery store and the always looming threat of her card being declined at the cash register when she had a basket full of items. Ruthie did what she was supposed to do: she took care of her brother Sweet Pea, took care of herself, and kept a roof over both of their heads. And despite all of the bullshit that the two of them have faced in their short amount of years, Sweet Pea was graduating. And at the end of the summer he and Fangs were packing up Dante’s old truck and driving it upstate, where they’d settle into their own apartment before their first week of college. Ruthie is overcome with a sudden burst of pride for herself and for her brother, their resilience and fighting strength. Growing up was scary but they did it, even when it wasn’t easy and every fiber of their being was telling them they weren’t gonna get anywhere any ways, so they may as well give up now. But Ruthie and Sweet Pea never did.

After she drops off the groceries for the Abuelas, Ruthie is panting when she bounds through the front door to the Soh-Peterson trailer, swearing up a storm after having to carry so many bags up and down the driveway and putting everything away in its rightful place.

“God, Maria is a pack-rat, I swear!” The sound of Ruthie tossing her keys onto the linoleum counter is enough to startle Sweet Pea, who had been mindlessly ripping out papers and assignments from his old binder. “Every time I have to go shopping for her I come home feeling like I need a drink…”

“If you’re offering, will you bring me one?” Sweet Pea smirks.

Ruthie huffs in response. “If I do that, will you also bring me whatever shirt you’re wearing for the ceremony tomorrow so that I can be sure to iron it?” She heads into the kitchen to fill up a pot of water to boil. She was making spaghetti with extra oregano, Sweet Pea’s favorite.

He heads into his bedroom for a quick moment and returns with a wrinkled dark blue dress shirt. He holds it up to Ruthie. “Do I have to wear a tie?” It’s such an innocent question that Ruthie cant help but laugh.

“Do you want to wear a tie?” Sweet Pea shrugs at his sister. “There’s that handful of Dad’s that we kept in the hall closet if you want to look through those. And for the love of god, please, anything but that ugly Christmas tie.” Ruthie turns to pour the dried spaghetti noodles into the boiling water and Sweet Pea hangs his choices over the door of the hall closet, in Ruthie’s line of sight so it wouldn’t be forgotten.

The two of them eat dinner together, with Sweet Pea trading anecdotes about his last day of high school through bites of warm bread and rich pasta. He tells Ruthie all about the school’s unearthed time capsule and what it held, tells her that there’s a whole spread in the yearbook dedicated to the Serpents (and that he’d have to show her all the good pictures of him). Ruthie smiles at her younger brother as she watches his eyes light up as he talks about the last few grueling moments of waiting for the seventh period bell to ring, officially signaling the end of the school day and his high school career.

“It was like everyone was holding their breath, you know? And when the bell rings everyone throws all of their stuff into the air, all of their papers, and everyone was hugging, going for high fives, it was weird—” Sweet Pea pauses to wipe away the red marinara sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Reggie comes at me for a bro-hug…I thought he was gonna pick me up off the ground!” He laughs and shakes his head. It was a moment that was a clear testament to growth, because a mere two years ago, if Sweet Pea and Reggie were in that close of proximity, one of them was gearing up to swing at the other.

“Definitely weird” .

Ruthie holds up her almost empty bottle of beer in a toast. “To your last day of high school.”

Sweet Pea clinks his bottle against hers and then takes their bowls and silverware to the kitchen to be washed without Ruthie needing to ask him. He rinses things off and washes them clean before handing them over to Ruthie to dry, a system that had been perfected after years of not so careful practice. When the dishes are done and put away, Sweet Pea retreats to his bedroom for the night and Ruthie doesn’t bug him. She knows that something like this can be a lot to process, especially for a person like him who isn’t really the biggest fan of change. Ruthie knows that sometimes you simply need a moment to sit with your emotions, whatever they may be. She waits patiently, can hear Sweet Pea talking to someone on the phone, Fangs maybe, so she waits a little longer. Ruthie sneaks out into the kitchen and opens the freezer, spends a few minutes spooning chunks of frostbitten chocolate chip ice cream into two mugs, one for her and one for Sweet Pea. When she hears him hang up the phone, Ruthie gives two quick taps on his bedroom door before she enters.

Sweet Pea’s sprawled out on his bed, legs tangled in the blankets that are barely hanging onto his twin sized mattress. His yearbook is next to him, filled with gleaming photo paper and inscriptions done in sharpie marker. The side of his left hand is smudged with pen ink and he’s trying to scribble his name in big graffiti letters onto the inside front cover of his yearbook. Sweet Pea sees that his sister came bearing ice cream so he smiles, sitting up and inviting Ruthie to rest on the foot of his bed. They clink their spoons together and each take way too big of a bite, fighting off brain freeze as Ruthie starts flipping through Sweet Pea’s heavy yearbook. No one says anything for a minute and they settle into a comfortable silence. Ruthie finds the section filled with senior portraits of the graduating class and can’t help but marvel at how both Sweet Pea and Fangs have grown.

“What time do you need to be there tomorrow?” Ruthie asks, sliding off of Sweet Pea’s bed and grabbing his empty, sticky mug. There was still a lot of work that Maria and Atzi needed help with before the graduation party for Fangs, Queenie, and Sweet Pea, and Ruthie was finding a weird sense of peace amongst the chaos.

“Seniors need to be in the gym by 4:30, and the ceremony starts at five o’clock so maybe get there at 5:15 so you don’t have to sit though the speeches”

“I’ll be there on time, don’t worry.” Ruthie laughs and leans her weight against the doorframe.

“Are you gonna sit with the Fogarty’s?” Sweet Pea asks, somewhat nervously.

“Of course I’m going to.” She reassures. “What, you think FP’s gonna save me a seat between him and Alice Cooper?”

Sweet Pea frowns at his sister’s joke but Ruthie thinks it’s hilarious.

“You’ll see me, don’t worry. The whole family is gonna sit together and cheer so loud for you three that you’ll be embarrassed”

“I won’t be embarrassed” Sweet Pea promised, almost forcefully, as though he needed to be sure his sister believed him.

Ruthie quirks up an eyebrow but chocks up the sudden outburst of emotion as a reaction to everything around Sweet Pea that was changing. She stands up straight, metal spoons clanging against the empty ceramic in her hands. “Try not to stay up too late, okay? You’re gonna have a long day tomorrow”

“Yeah, I gotta get my beauty sleep” Sweet Pea jokes, pulling his bed covers back up over his long legs.

“Gonna need it” Ruthie laughs over her shoulder as she makes her way back down the hallway to the kitchen. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth!” She turns the faucet on hot and pretends that she doesn’t hear Sweet Pea groan from the other room.

~~~

The morning of Graduation Day, both Sweet Pea and Ruthie wake up way before their alarms, anxiety already cold and pooling at the bottom of their empty stomachs. Sweet Pea manages to close his eyes for a few more minutes before being started awake again, feeling like he was running late, when he realizes that he has nowhere to be. For the first time in four whole years, Sweet Pea doesn’t need to spring out of bed and rush to get in the shower before Ruthie hogs all the hot water. He doesn’t have to worry about what time he needs to leave for school, or account how much time it’ll take to get to Riverdale High School all the way from the Southside. Sweet Pea didn’t have to worry about any of that because today, he was graduating high school.

When he gets to the kitchen, Ruthie is already there with a pot of coffee steaming and a stack of warm pancakes on a waiting plate. She laughs and gives him a sheepish smile, gesturing with the spatula to tell him to sit down. “Felt weird that we both weren’t running around each other trying to get ready to leave, so I decided to take advantage of all this time.”

“Thank you” Sweet Pea mumbles through a full mouth.

It was a rare day where the two siblings seemed to have nothing but free time. Ruthie makes a thick stack of pancakes and they both eat almost all of what’s on their plates. Sweet Pea washes the dishes and she dries, and by that time it’s only 10:45. They’re both too hopped up on coffee to even bother trying to take a mid-morning nap, and that’s how they end up watching a handful of episodes of The Price Is Right until Ruthie excuses herself to get in the shower. No one has to rush that day. No one is pounding on the door yelling about how they needed to get in the bathroom to finish getting ready, threatening bodily harm on one another. Ruthie takes time lathering her hair with shampoo and conditioner, relishing in the warm water that she actually got to enjoy. No one had anything to stress out about today. Ruthie gets out of the shower, takes her time, and Sweet Pea gets in. Ruthie irons his dress shirt and his tie and hangs them back up until he’s ready. The two siblings convene for half of an episode of some daytime talkshow until Sweet Pea complains that he’s hungry. Sweet Pea makes grilled cheese sandwiches for late lunch while Ruthie does her makeup in the living room. Sweet Pea leaves the pan and their plates in the sink knowing that later he’ll wash and Ruthie will dry.

“Pick up the pace a little bit, okay? It’s almost four and we’re probably gonna need to leave soon so you have a chance to find your friends and sit with them.” Ruthie breezes into Sweet Pea’s room, dressed up in a way that made her look older than she was, but not as old as she felt. She looks good in her blazer and her heeled boots, like a proud parent.

Sweet Pea is dressed but his shirt’s not tucked in and his tie is crooked. He stands in front of the mirror and tries to fasten his father’s old tie into a Windsor knot but his fingers are soo long and too clumsy. “Shit…” He mumbles and Ruthie can tell he’s getting frustrated.

She doesn’t have to say here let me, she simply gives her brother the same knowing look she always does and steps in front of him to refasten and straighten Sweet Pea’s tie for him. Ruthie smooths her hands over his shoulders, wiping away creases and floating motes of dust and lint. She takes a long look at him and realizes how much he’s grown to look like their dad, or the way that Ruthie remembered her dad looking in the few old photographs stashed in a shoebox somewhere in her closet.

“You look so handsome” She whispers, her voice tight in her throat as she tries to will away any hot tears from spilling.

“Oh c’mon, don’t cry, Ruth” Sweet Pea says with an uncomfortable laugh, stepping away from his watery-eyed sister. “Cause if you start crying, I might start crying and then what good does that do for either one of us?” Ruthie laughs and gives a big exhale as she tries to compose herself.

“God I feel like Maria” She laughs, thinking of the Abuelas and the wrinkled tissues they always seemed to pull out of nowhere. Ruthie can’t help but shudder as she remembers back when Dante graduated high school and how she was surprised that Maria and Atzi weren’t dehydrated from crying under the hot spring sun.

Sweet Pea takes a look at himself in the mirror, running his comb though his hair to gel it back into place with sticky pomade. His shrugs on his long, blue graduation robe and tucks his cap under one of his arms before giving himself a last once-over in the mirror with a sigh, like this was as good as it was going to get. Ruthie slings her heavy purse over her shoulder and soon the two siblings are making their way out the door and down the front steps of the house. Sweet Pea almost hits his head getting into Ruthie’s compact car, she laughs but he scoffs and pulls the ray-ban sunglasses out of her hair and puts them on for himself.

The drive across town to Riverdale High School was longer than usual, the long lines of cars all leading to the same place. Ruthie honks her car horn, if not because she thought it could make things go faster, but just because she could. Sweet Pea scrolls through radio static until he finds a station that’s playing some old Green Day song that he and his sister used to dance around to when they were younger. He bounces his knee along with the rhythmic thumping of the drums and Ruthie taps her fingers along on the steering wheel. Sweet Pea’s nervous, they both know it but neither one of them would admit that. He’s worried that he’ll trip when walking across the stage, that his long legs and the long silk gown will get the better of him.

“Just breathe” Ruthie nods, following the cars all turning towards the high school. She parks her car towards the back of the school’s parking lot and waits with Sweet Pea as he tries to coordinate where to meet Fangs and the rest of their friends.

Ruthie makes Sweet Pea stand out in front of the school sign to take pictures in his graduation garb and her sunglasses. She snaps a few silly ones but doesn’t make Sweet Pea stop to take that many smiling pictures, knowing that after the ceremony and at the party he’d be having to run away from Maria and Atzi and their too-fancy cameras, who wanted to take pictures of the youngsters just as much as they needed their help with figuring out which buttons do what. Sweet Pea finds the Fogarty-Abrejo clan easily, giving Queenie a one-shouldered hug and slapping Fangs on the back, flicking around the blue frilled tassel hanging off his graduation cap. Maria and Atzi are doting on the two young men, going to pinch their cheeks and straighten their collars. Chimalma is lecturing Queenie about making sure she zipped up her blue graduation gown like the rest of the other students, still somehow unaware of the fact that the more she told her daughter not to do something, the more it made her want to do it. Ruthie raises her eyebrow at Queenie and the girl winks in return.

“One picture, you three, then I’ll leave you alone until later I promise” Ruthie holds up her phone and gestures for Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Fangs to all get together. The three squish together, giving cheesy smilies that will one day end up in a photo album with years worth of other cheesy smiles. Fangs is still a head shorter than both Sweet Pea and Queenie so he stands on the toes of his dress boots, smiling bigger than either one of them like it could make up for his lack of height. Sweet Pea hooks his long arms around his friends and pulls them close for one last picture and Queenie holds up her graduation cap to make sure it’s in frame, the picture of her father decorating the back of her cap watching over her protectively.

Last pictures were taken, collars were straightened and hair was smoothed down. Mr. Weatherbee makes the announcement that all graduating seniors needed to report to the area behind the gym for attendance, and that parents, families, and other distinguished guests could make their way to their seats. “See you on the other side, little brother” Ruthie gives Sweet Pea a wink as she holds the door open for the older women.

Riverdale High School’s graduation was like all high school graduation ceremonies in the way that it as both long and boring, incredibly drawn out by speeches from principals and vice-principles, esteemed faculty, and the class valedictorian. Betty Cooper delivers a moving speech about innocence and growth, stressing the importance of taking the time to be young and have fun, especially in a town that was plagued with so much heartache. There’s not a dry eye in the house when the young woman takes to addressing all of the trauma she and her fellow students had faced when Riverdale had them all in it’s clutches: “And it’s not fair that so many of our classmates aren’t here to walk with us today. And it’s not right that same of our parents aren’t here to watch those of us who are.” This strikes a chord in Ruthie and she can’t help but think what it would be like if Major Chase Lang Soh was here to watch his son walk the stage to get his diploma, or wonder how loud Pallaton Abrejo would whistle when his daughter’s name was called, smiling as Queenie’s blue silken robe billowed out behind her, (still unzipped, much to her mother’s dismay). Pallaton would tell Queenie that he was proud of her, and that he thought she was pretty damn cool for not wanting to blend in with the ranks of her peers.

“I wish Dante got to be here tonight” Ruthie leans over to whisper in Maria’s ear. The older woman pats her hand in response, a reaction that Ruthie thought was rather odd for Maria, but Ruthie chocks it up to her not wanting to be the rude people whispering. Apparently Dante was busy with some project over in Centerville, but Fangs had a graduation card coming in the mail and he promised he’d try to convince Spyder and CD to all drive down with him some weekend pretty soon. At least that’s what Dante told Ruthie on the phone a few days ago when he told her he wasn’t coming to graduation.

Everybody sits up a little taller in their chairs once student’s names started to be called, shifting in their cold metal seats and craning their necks to find where their loved ones were sitting amongst the masses of students. Ruthie claps politely for some of the names that she recognized, people that Sweet Pea talked about or hung out with, friends of Fangs and Queenie’s that she’d been introduced to at family parties and summer barbecues. For the most part Ruthie is pretty bored, reading through the flimsy paper program and wondering what it was like for everyone back when she graduated high school over at Southside High. Neither Ruthie nor Sweet Pea got to have their parents present at their high school graduation, but the Fogarty family never made them feel unwelcome or like anything less than family. They had cheered loudly when Ruthie’s name had been called, whistling and yelling when she walked across the stage. Dante and CD both laughed, watching Ruthie’s eye twitch as the principal called for Ruthann Soh-Peterson. There may have been a smaller number of people to watch Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Fangs graduate, but just because they weren’t loved widely it didn’t mean they weren’t loved deeply.

After Principal Weatherbee’s time at the Farm (Edgar Evernever’s poorly disguised cult), he got super progressive and made it a point to tell all of the seniors that on graduation day they could go by whatever their chosen name was, nicknames included. Ruthie and Sweet Pea had talked about it a few weeks ago at dinner, the merits of going by his given name for the first and only time in his high school career. “Why would I?” Sweet Pea had asked his sister, stabbing his fork into an unsuspecting chunk of broccoli. It was the last time the two brought it up.

Their three names are called sequentially; Queenie Abrejo, Fangs Fogarty, Sweet Pea Soh-Peterson. The uproar of cheers for Queenie, Fangs, and Sweet Pea was so loud that it paled every other family’s reaction in comparison. Ruthie whistled loudly, two fingers in her mouth. The rest of their big, blended family cheered and shouted loudly, clapping loudly and tapping canes against the polished gym floor. The ranks of polished Northside parents stick up their noses at the spectacle and go back to giving fake-polite golf claps. The rest of the ceremony goes by in a flurry of names, students in blue silk gowns walking across the stage to shake hands with Weatherbee and get their diplomas as quick as possible so they could do the cliche cap toss before getting the hell out of dodge, never having to set foot in the halls of Riverdale High School ever again. Atzi’s snoring on Maria’s shoulder and is startled awake by the thunderous applause after the final concluding words. “It’s over?”

When the ceremony is over it isn’t too hard to spot Sweet Pea through the crowd. Ruthie picks through the throng of people and runs at her brother with her arms wide open.

“You did it! Oh, my little high school graduate” Ruthie laughs, snaking her arms around Sweet Pea’s middle and pulling him into a crushing hug.

“Little?” Queenie raises her eyebrow, smirking over at Ruthie as she finally shucks off her graduation robe, handing it off to her little sister who didn’t mind wearing it.

“I’m so proud of you” Ruthie says, releasing her grip on her brother. “I’m so proud of all three of you, you did it!”

“Yeah we did!” Sweet Pea says, hooking his arm around Fangs’s shoulder as the group trailed back to the car.

~~~

The pageantry of Graduation Day was for the parents, everyone knew this. But the graduation party was for everyone else, one of the more enjoyable rights of passage after finishing high school. That was the part Sweet Pea was excited for. After the ceremony he tosses his cap and gown in the backseat of his sister’s car and loosens his tie before Ruthie can even start the engine. The drive back to the Southside is comfortably quiet, like both Sweet Pea and Ruthie needed a moment to recharge their batteries before the festivities. Ruthie pulls the car into the driveway, gravel crunching under her tires, and soon the two of them are barreling up the front steps. Sweet Pea holds out his hand for Ruthie’s keys and unlocks the door quickly, like he couldn’t bare to be in his nice clothes a minute more.

“I won’t make you wear a tie but can you dress up a little? For the pictures?” Ruthie asks, yelling from the kitchen as she gathers up any last minute things she needed to bring over to the Fogarty’s. “Something with sleeves, perhaps?” The sarcasm in her voice is palpable and Sweet Pea laughs as he trades his dress shirt for something that felt a little bit more like him.

The siblings are in and out of their house in record time and Ruthie lets Sweet Pea drive her car the short distance to the Fogarty’s while she sits in the passenger’s seat, clutching onto the crockpot for dear life. There’s already a dull roar emanating from the backyard; someone was bringing a big setup of speakers and Queen had been crafting the perfect playlist for weeks. No one bothers to knock on the front door because it’s never locked any ways. Ruthie immediately gets pulled into the kitchen by Atzi, who thrusts an apron at her before she continued her mission to make more counter space.

“Go find your friends,” Ruthie calls over her shoulder to her brother. “Just remember that you owe me pictures!”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember…” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and goes to sample one of the hors d’oeuvres but Atzi smacks his hand away with her trusty spatula.

The party continues and more kids show up, all connected to Fangs, Queenie, or Sweet Pea in some way or another. It’s loud and it’s rowdy in the way that parties at the Fogarty house always seemed to get. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and dancing, but the general sentiment among everyone was that they missed Dante’s presence among the family and that they all wished that he’d been able to stop by. Maria and Atzi had been surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole thing and Ruthie was starting to think there might had been some kind of falling out.

Ruthie leans in close to Atzi, who was stirring a bubbling pot of sauce on the stove, seemingly in her own little world. “Did Maria and Dante have an argument or something? Is that why he didn’t show up tonight?”

Atzi glances up at Ruthie and smiles wryly, like all old women who held lots of secrets often did. “Nothing of the sorts, my girl!” She tosses the kitchen towel over her shoulder and goes back to flitting around the kitchen, stirring this and that, making sure nothing burned or bubbled over. “You’re looking a little dehydrated, hon, why don’t you go out into the garage and get yourself something to drink?”

Ruthie doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the eye or if Atzi winked at her. She tries not to take offense to the comment, having thickened her skin after years of “helpful” comments from the people around her. Ruthie was just happy to be relieved of kitchen duty for a little while. Wiping her hands on a towel, Ruthie makes her way into the Fogarty’s garage and to the outside refrigerator to grab herself a soda. She paws through the bottles and cans on the shelves trying to find something but she doesn’t hear the side door open, nor does she hear the familiar footfalls as they approach her.

Ruthie turns around and is startled when she find herself face to face with none other than Dante Fogarty. “Oh!” Ruthie exclaims, her soda can slipping from her hands and rolling out of sight. “Oh, I thought you weren’t coming!” She starts toward Dante and flings her arms around his neck to bring him in for a hug that was long overdue.

“I wouldn’t miss this” Dante says, rubbing his large hand over his best friend’s back. “I’m his graduation present, you know?”

“Your ass had better come with a gift receipt then” Ruthie laughs and gives Dante a playful shove before laughing into an animated rant about how mad she was at him for making her sit through that boring-ass, long-ass graduation ceremony by herself. The two of them want to kill a few minutes talking. Hell, Dante and Ruthie would hide in the garage for the whole party if they could. It wouldn’t be the first time. Dante fills Ruthie in on how everything is going in Centerville. She asks follow up questions about CD and Spyder, laughs as Dante marvels about how good the food from their cousins’s food truck is. Ruthie tells Dante about her new promotion to shift leader at the Elderly Services Department of Riverdale General Hospital. Dante talks at length about his girlfriend Valentina, smiling in a way that Ruthie thought looked good on him. But no matter how much they talked about the present (or the future), it was hard not to be nostalgic for the past, especially tonight.

“Man, your ass was miserable at your graduation party” Dante chuckled, glancing over at Ruthie. He leans against Maria’s old boat of a car that was forever in the garage atop cement blocks. “I’m pretty sure you stood outside and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes until Romeo forced you to come and socialize with everyone”

“Yeah cause it was my graduation party, it was Angel’s and I was just tacked on” Ruthie finds a beer in the refrigerator and uncaps it, her lost soda can long forgotten.

Dante thinks back to the moment before he agrees. “You might be right” He thinks about it some more, remembering the debacle. “You’re onto something there, Ruth.”

When the two of them decide that they had hidden away for long enough, Ruthie sneaks a cigarette to buy just a minute more before dragging Dante inside and into the kitchen. “Hey look who I found!” She calls out loudly, trying to get people’s attention over the music and the conversation. The Abuelas, no longer having to be tight-lipped about Dante’s secret arrival, grabbed his face and kissed his cheeks, giving him spoon and forkfuls of almost-done food that needed tasting. Fangs hears the commotion from outside where he, Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Mabel had all teamed up for beer pong so he opens the screen door, poking his head inside.

“Dante, you made it!” Fangs exclaims happily as he sees his older brother sampling the appetizers that Maria made. He rushes into the kitchen to give Dante a hug and giving him a brotherly slap on the back.

“Aw c’mon, you know I’d never miss something like this!” Dante slings his arm around Fangs’s shoulder and walks back towards the backyard “Now who’s up on the BP table, I want next game!”

~~~

The party persists most of the evening. The Beer Pong tournament ends up being a big debacle, with family and friends gathering around to watch it all unfold. Dante and Fangs played against Ruthie and Sweet Pea. They win the game but Sweet Pea swears that they cheated so he insists on a rematch, only to lose once again. Ruthie and Dante play against Sweet Pea and Fangs and they win again, so by that time everyone’s teasing Sweet Pea about his bad aim. Everyone poses for pictures way longer than they actually wanted to. There was pictures of the graduates, of them and their friends, pictures of the Abrejo family, the Fogarty’s, and the Soh-Peterson siblings. Maria wanted pictures of Ruthie, Sweet Pea, Dante, and Fangs, pictures of her with each of her grandchildren. By the time the cameras are put away everyone’s cheeks hurt and they’re seeing spots from the bright flash against the dark evening sky. Everyone eats twice as much food as they should have, and Maria was already promising to send people home with Tupperware dishes filled with leftovers. Queenie and Mabel sneak slices of the big bakery cake before Chimalma was ready to cut it so they spend the next twenty minutes out front sitting on the curb trying to avoid her motherly wrath. She was still on the warpath about her daughter being the “Only girl in the entire graduating class who didn’t zip up her gown like she was supposed to,” as if that were a supposed to be a bad thing.

Ruthie shakes her head, smiling to herself as she watches Sweet Pea try to shake off Maria, who was following him around the yard with another plate of food and yelling about how “You two boys need to put some meat on your bones before we send you off to college!” Sweet Pea goes to sit by the fire pit, away from Maria and her constant comments. Dante’s roasting marshmallows, eternally determined to piss off Elena by getting Daisy all hopped up on sugar after feeding her s’mores. Ruthie puffs along happily on her cigarette, a healthy distance aware from the rest of the partygoers (Sweet Pea had already come up to her once that evening, pulling a cigarette out of her mouth and grinding it into the dirt under the toe of his big boots). She watches over the party carefully, thinking about how time has passed and how everyone has grown.

“You warm enough over here?” Ruthie asks, her hand coming to rest on Sweet Pea’s shoulder as she approaches where he’s sitting by the fire pit.

He jumps a little, dropping the long wooden stick he was using to prod at the fire logs. “I’m fine” He replies with an eye roll.

Ruthie sits down heavily in one of the plastic lawn chairs than were posited throughout the yard, but loses her balance because of a wobbly, weathered leg. She laughs loudly as he recovers, her blood pumping in her ears. “You don’t have to be so grumpy about it” She teases, bumping his knee with her own.

“I’m not being grumpy!” Sweet Pea retorts, clearly still on edge from Maria’s overbearing attention and affection.

“Is it because you’re cold?” Ruthie raises an eyebrow at her not-so-little brother, already knowing his answer.

“I just graduated high school, Ruth, you don’t have to treat me like I’m some baby…” Sweet Pea shoes his head and brings his long-necked bottle of beer to his lips, taking a hearty sip.

“Oh but you’re always gonna be my little baby!” Ruthie coos with fake, overbearing sweetness and goes to ruffle Sweet Pea’s hair in the annoying yet endearing way that only older sisters seem to have mastered.

Sweet Pea’s scowl breaks into a smile and he rolls his eyes, letting his sister muss up his hair and dote on him just a little longer. He slides his arm around her shoulders and revels in her body heat and the familiar, comforting smell of her lavender shampoo.

“So what do you wanna do with your last summer before college, kid?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, honestly.” Sweet Pea muses. “Need to find a job so I have a little bit of rent money saved up.” He always thought practically, tethered to the tangible things he needed in order to get by in life. It might have been a trait he picked up from Ruthie, actually.

“You have all summer to work” Ruthie looks over at her younger brother. “You gotta do something fun this summer, okay? Me and you, we’ll go somewhere just us.”

Sweet Pea laughs, his brows creased in both confusion and amusement. “Okay…where are we gonna go?”

“Anywhere…I mean, anywhere my car can get us. Or maybe we rent a car and go up the coast, spend a week at the beach before I send you off to the real world.”

“Sounds nice” Sweet Pea nods in agreement, staring into the fire. “What about the money though, Ruth? A trip like this sounds expensive.”

“You don’t have to worry about the money, kid.” Ruthie sighs, and for the first time in a long time she actually means that. “You deserve way more than this, okay? It’s the least I can do. Nothing’s set in stone now so just promise me you’ll think on it, okay?”

Sweet Pea nods. “I promise”

“I love you, and I’m so proud of you” Ruthie says firmly, as to make sure there was no way for Sweet Pea to slither in and discredit himself and his experiences.

The two siblings sit like that in front of the fire for a while, limbs tangled together, both too old to be twisting their bodies to accommodate for the other’s needed space. Ruthie gives Sweet Pea a rare, quick kiss on his forehead and the two siblings untangle themselves, laughing about who’s old rocket chair would break first. Things get quiet again for a little, just like the party had, bit after a few minutes Sweet Pea speaks up,

“Hey Ruth?” He hesitates, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

“Hmm?”

“Where’s my jacket?” Sweet Pea asks, wincing, already prepared for his sister’s onslaught of I-told-you-so’s.

Ruthie’s eyes blink open quickly, her facing having been turned towards the warmth of the fire that cracked and rippled with every gust of the evening wind. “In the trunk of my car” She laughs, tossing him her keys. Sweet Pea fumbles the catch because of his cold hands and walks towards the car, rubbing his hands over his arms.

“That boy’s gonna be absolutely lost without you” Dante laughs, rounding the fire pit and sitting down.

Ruthie shakes her head and disagrees. “I think he’s gonna be just fine.”

#little brother! sweet pea #sweet pea x ruthie #sweet pea x oc #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #oc: ruthie soh peterson #oc: literally ALL of lou's are mentioned #and some of vannah's

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sweet-cynical-writer · 4 years

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Author's Notes: On top of not writing as frequently, I wrote two fics. This one will be the sequel to the previous fic, “I couldn't care less.” I haven't written this much before but it likely won't happen again anytime soon.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Additional Notes: Another thank you to @soukokuwu for proofreading! I'm not used to anything more than 500 words so the help is appreciated!

Fresh air and a clear sky.

You can already feel that today was going to be better than yesterday. What’s more, you were on your way to your favourite little flower shop in the corner of the city near the bay. You were planning to surprise your sweet new boyfriend with this spontaneous gift of a bouquet.

With a little hop in your steps, you made your way down the all-too-familiar stone pavement. Once in, your eyes sparkled at the sight of red camellias. It was perfect to express your desired message: “forever mine”.

You were about to reach out for it when someone else’s hand bumped yours. You drew yours back and apologised out of instinct, thinking you must’ve upset them.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you—"

Your heart skipped a beat the moment your gaze flicked up to meet the man in question. The surprise you felt made you take a few steps back. But then a comforting voice played in your head.

“Hey, don’t worry okay? If you ever feel panicked just imagine me beside you, holding your hand, just like this—” you felt a warmth around your palms— “and then take a minute to collect your thoughts before saying anything.”

He was your saviour in more ways than one, really. His words only reminded you of how patient he was. Kind, caring. A vast difference to how your old relationship was. You were better now. Way better than before. But now you found yourself looking your past in the eye, in its — Dazai’s — chocolate brown eyes.

The corners of your mouth upturned into a sweet smile, and now it was his turn to flinch.

"It's alright. I was only looking. I don't really have flowers to buy anyone."

What was this ache in his chest? And why did it only appear the moment he saw you? You were just another woman on his list, just another number he conquered. So why was he feeling bitter now that you seemed… happy without him?

The silence that surrounded you two was unnerving. It had been quite some time since you broke up, since he broke your heart. But thinking of the days that came after that — it was good. Life had been good to you. You had spent a huge fraction of your time bawling over him, until you realised it just wasn’t fair. How could it be when you could spend all that time to better yourself rather than being miserable over that bastard?

"I heard from Atsushi that you're doing well. I'm guessing you found some happiness after all?" The way he said it — so pointedly, sharp, leaving no room for negotiation. Much like pointing a dagger to your throat. It was a rhetorical question. Dazai already knew. He always knew.

But no, this time, you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand. You weren’t going to let him bask in the glory of steering everything in his direction. No, this time, you knew who you were. After all, your boyfriend’s words kept ringing in your head. No more grudges, no more spite.

"I took time to myself and found my footing again. Atsushi told me you haven't been doing too well.. is everything okay, Osamu?"

For a moment you thought you saw a hint of malice in those dark brown eyes.

"Everything fell apart after losing you. I tried to fill the hole inside me that you once filled so perfectly. And so sweetly too. I never realized how much you meant to me until you stopped calling out to me one day."

There he goes again, using such honeyed words to cast another spell on your fragile heart. Or rather, your once fragile heart. But not anymore. Part of you would always care for and love Dazai. But your intimate love for him ran dry like a dozen roses left out in the hot sun to wither.

And he could tell. He always could. He knew how your love for him, what he thought he had control over forever, was gone. He knew, just from your gaze, how you were looking at him like an old friend, nothing more. And the next few words that fell out of your rosy lips hurt him like thorns in his heart.

"I'm so sorry you're not well, Dazai. Truly I am. But I found happiness and I really hope you’ll find yours. Besides, you're free now. I really hope you’ll find it."

His happiness after you had been short-lived. After only a few parties did he notice how much he missed you. The way you would pick him up after he had a drunken night out, and cooked him hot meals to wake up to. Those light feathered kisses you trailed along his neck to gingerly rouse him from his slumber.

"Well, maybe you could embrace freedom with me sometime?"

It felt satisfying to have Dazai being so smitten towards you. Where Dazai used to always rule your heart, it was now only filled with your boyfriend. An image of crimson locks flashed in your mind and with a deep smile you shook your head, picking up the bouquet of camellias to leave.

But a sudden embrace from behind stopped you in your tracks.

"Let me at least see you again."

You knew what the old you would think. She would be anxious, questioning everything, each possibility. Things like: should you keep in contact with your ex even though it’d create problems with your current boyfriend? She’d think there was a chance that Dazai had changed for the better. But she’d also have to consider if he was just manipulating her. And that if he was, she’d lose Chuuya. She’d think that she could end up all alone again. She’d shiver at the thought of that.

But the current you? The one Chuuya loved with every fibre of his being? He loved you strong, he made you whole again when you never thought it could be possible. And you loved him all the same.

When he caught on that you weren’t moving, Dazai released his grasp on you. Did he scare you? Was it too much?

"Hey.. are you okay—"

You pulled away and turned to face him. “Be brave, stand tall, but most importantly, don't lose control.” Chuuya's words rang in your head and you regained composure.

"You know.. it's funny how you miss me more than you could ever love me, Dazai. I may have forgiven you in order to move on.. but I did it for me, not you. I'm happier with Chuuya now. You had that chance already."

The tears were building up in your eyes and you had to turn away to not let him see. You didn’t want him to misunderstand. This was just the closure you never got, the hurt you never got to feel when he so abruptly left you. He would see this as an opening, not a close. He would try to snake his way back into your life, and you didn’t want that.

With that, you forced your legs to move forward, to move away from him. To move on from your past. It was hard — to say goodbye to someone who had once meant so much to you. That would explain the constriction in your chest, making it hard to breathe. But you knew that better things would be coming. And that made it easier.

***

A few minutes away from the flower shop — there he was, waiting for you by a bench. Right on time, never late. It was a small gesture to many, but to you it meant the world. He was a busy man, a Port Mafia executive, and yet the one person he would turn the world over for — it would only be you.

You ran over to him, your hands wrapped around his neck and his own snaked around your waist. You caught a whiff of the sweet cologne you had gifted him as a present after the first month together. This familiarity, this comfort, this warmth. It could never get old. You’d never felt this way. And it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.

Both of you didn’t have to say a thing, and yet you both knew what the other was feeling. It was something special you shared with Chuuya, and only Chuuya. This bond was what you cherished the most. With him, you didn’t have to keep second-guessing anything, not his actions, not his words. He never tried to push you into anything, unlike a certain someone. Even now, when you were sobbing slightly. Chuuya never pushed you to explain.

The two of you walked home hand in hand, with you offering him the bouquet only then. You had smiled, and your dried tears had made tracks on your skin. He accepted the bouquet, giving you a quick peck on the forehead.

"My sweet love.. these are perfect. Let's get you in a better mood hmm?"

Once you were home, you let him take you by the hand to the bedroom. Chuuya knew you preferred to be pampered before talking about what was on your mind. You just needed to relax.

He began peppering your face with kisses. It made you giggle — how soft and gentle the way his lips pressed against your skin. And the way his fingers twirled your hair playfully felt comforting. Especially the way he would lean in and whisper every kind of doting compliment he could think of.

"You're so gorgeous, my love. I'm the luckiest man alive to have an absolute sweetheart as my lover."

There was a loud buzz coming from the nightstand on your side of the bed. Usually, you would check it yourself but Chuuya insisted on looking at it for you since he was closer. He peered over and the caller ID read Osamu Dazai.

"Who is it, Chuuya?"

He silenced your phone before turning his attention back to you. Chuuya ran his hand down your shoulder to take your hand in his.

"Nothing important. Let's continue where we left off, my love."

You wanted to check for yourself but quickly shook the urge off when his lips locked with yours. Chuuya was right. No matter who it was, it didn’t matter. Right here, right now, only he did. You fell into his love, fell into the way his lips pressed against yours. You drowned in him, and you thought only of him.

And this ocean, this one you called home, you would happily drown in.

#bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya bsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya nakahara #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #reader x chuuya #fluff writing #zai writes #zai does shitty edits

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starkerintheparker · 4 years

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starker reclist - canon based fics

Hi Starker fam! To celebrate my 900 followers I decided to finally start posting my humble and very personal reclist. I’ve been planning to do it for a while now but it got way bigger than I anticipated so I decided to split it in 4 parts and will share the first one today. I’ve been around for less than a year and there’s a lot I haven’t read yet so my plan is to update this list as I go.

Under the cut is part I, solely is dedicated to canon-based fics. I’m a sucker for angst so most of my recs feature guilty!Tony, miscommunication, porn with feels and all that jazz. Hopefully you’ll be able to find something interesting according to your preferences. Oh and don’t forget to leave kudos, comments and spread the love for these authors :) Cheers!

Last updated: 2020/04/18. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 10 Ways to Woo Your Boo by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 6k, completed)

Summary: By twenty-one Peter Parker had graduated college, scored himself a post-grad job and was a full-fledged member of the Avengers. He had his own apartment, paid his own bills and juggled his time between being a superhero and working enough to cover his rent. So long as Peter was armed with his ID, he was a full-fledged adult in the eyes of the law. Perhaps foolishly, he’d assumed it would make him an adult in the eyes of everybody else too. Keen to be seen as worthy of Tony's heart, Peter enlists the help of his friends and the internet in courting his former mentor.

Review: We all love Ash’s fantastic AUs but this lovely canon-based fic may be one of my favorite works by her. I will never know how she manages the fine balance between angst, humor and romance, I just know it hits me good and takes my breath away. Oblivious!Tony and Peter being a bisexual disaster at wooing, what do you mean this wasn’t in the movies? Sounds canon to me.

• 100-Point Restoration by Destina (T, 8k, completed)

Summary: Tony needs a happiness upgrade; Peter wants Tony. These goals might be compatible. (This story is set roughly five years post-Homecoming).

Review: I just realized this was the first Starker fic I’ve read, and it was back in 2017! I didn’t ship Starker at the time but this author must have done something right because for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes away. This fic is gorgeous. Tony’s voice is amazing, his dynamics with Peter are spot-on and organic - but nothing’s better than watching their feelings unfold, like a soft and warm humming just awaiting for disclosure.

• adult supervision by doveslayer (M, 20k, on hiatus)

Summary: Peter Parker should not keep drunk-dialing Tony Stark after midnight. But more pressingly, Tony Stark should not keep answering. In which Tony tries to convince himself he's doing nothing wrong. warning: underage!Peter tho pretty vanilla imo

Review: My favorite “everything is happening while nothing is happening” fic. Their voices are spot on, the dialogues are clever, and you can almost touch the tension with your fingertips. It’s been a year since the last update but even if this fic never gets finished I promise the read will have been worthy!

• Attached by @paspleurer (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: Tony gets it, he really does. As far as rebounds go, sleeping with your childhood hero isn't half bad. And if what Peter wants is this— just sex, with no strings attached— then Tony will give him this.

Review: Pleurer and Learned Foot have seduced me with the rebound trope. This is a lovely Tony POV with the good old pining + miscommunication combo, plus enthusiastic sex and sweet domesticity. What else could I ask for?

• Covet by RTC anonymous (E, 34k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

Review: I read this fic when I was still warily lurking around the Starker fandom and it blew me away. The sexual tension is so palpable you can almost taste it. There is jealous, guity Tony failing at mentoring and a vulnerable, smitten Peter Parker trying to make sense out of it. RTC anon is a religion.

• Ephemeron by @ramblings-from-elsinore (E)

Summary: "Being around Ned, Peter's reminded how out of place he is. For Ned, the second ever appearance of aliens over Manhattan is the stuff of excited hallway chatter, of where were you when—? Ned’s world wasn’t blown apart and stitched back together. Because Ned doesn’t remember. No one does, except the ones who were there, who fought." AKA, "Tony's relationship with Peter may be unconventional, but they’re unconventional people who have had some pretty fucking unconventional experiences." In which Tony can't stop touching Peter to make sure he's real, and Peter dreams of being in Tony's arms and not disappearing.

Review: I started reading this fic before I joined the fandom and man, what a way to get pulled into this ship. Brace yourself for hardcore guilty!Tony being all over the place plus unhealthy codependency and touch deprivation, all the good things. Reading this is a spiritual experience but fair warning: this is not a happy story, at least not for a long while, so please mind the tags.

• Expiration Date by @learned-foot (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes. AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

Review: Ahh my beloved rebound trope and my first rec (out of many) by LF! Between a pining, insecure Tony making all the wrong decisions and a young and confident Peter unwilling to let him go, this fic makes your heart ache in the best ways. Good thing LF only works with happy endings!

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes and feyrelay (E, 31k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Review: I’ve lost count of how many times I reread this insanely hot and ridiculously well written fic. Besides the A+++ characterization, there is delicious food porn foreplay followed by a breathtaking cat and mouse game that culminates with no less than 13.5k of intense and unapologetic sex with feels, my favorite kind. Enjoy the meal! ;D

***Gift of Choice by tuesday (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Review: This is my favorite fic by tuesday and the PERFECT rendition of our beloved sugar daddy trope. Great pacing, amazing dialogues and a breathtaking build up that makes you both smile and sweat in anticipation. They’re so in love I almost can’t handle when they finally get together. Sexy, hot and very sweet.

• here is my hand, my heart by belatrix (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: Mostly, Tony had tried not to look. He still does. Try, that is. It’s just― it’s getting a little bit harder every day.

Review: I have a HUGE soft spot for this beautiful masterpiece, because it was the fic that finally made me join the Starker fandom. I’ve reread it so many times and it never fails to amaze me. Through an atmospheric non-linear narrative, this shows a guilt-ridden Tony Stark trying and failing to resist one determined Peter Parker who won’t take bullshit for an answer. Hot, and angsty, and breathtaking.

• I know that you got Daddy Issues (And I do too) by feyrelay (E)

Summary: The one where Peter’s blue balls save the world. Because, yeah? That meandering, blooming thing between him and Mr. Stark? That relationship that continues to be maddeningly legal, platonic, and above-board, but still somehow haunts Peter’s wildest wet-dreams? That might just be the key to Strange’s endgame.

Review: This fic is a love letter to those who appreciate an angsty and nuanced slow burn like me. Possibly the best character study I’ve ever read combined with a clever, well researched and intricated plot. Reading this will make you fall even more in love with Tony and Peter as individuals, before wanting them to be better together. Make sure to also check all related fics under the tag DIEU (Daddy Issues Extended Universe) - the Starker verse we fucking deserve.

• if I am the river, you are the ocean by sadonsundays (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: The one where Tony can't sleep and Peter can't stop his hands from shaking.

Review: This is a gorgeous recovery fic, painful and heartbreaking, yes, but still very gentle as Tony and Peter’s relationship quietly unfolds. Pepper is an absolute treat which was refreshing to me. I just love the quiet and angsty undertone that guides their journey until they finally find home in each other.

if you’d grant my love a pardon by belatrix (M, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: The first time, it goes something like this: “No,” Tony says, but it’s tired, half-hearted, not quite a denial.

Review: One of the reasons why I love this ship is that there’s always room for angst, even when they’re already together. This lovely yet heartbreaking fic mirrors Tony’s fragile heart as he realizes that as much as he should, he just can’t let go of Peter, not quite yet. Belatrix writes guilty!Tony’s headspace like nobody else and I just can’t recommend her writing enough.

• in the light of a dying star by @areiton (M, 6k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Extremis isn't a guarantee. That's what Pepper told him, as they took him off the bloody, dusty field. It was just a chance. A desperate gamble.

Review: I’m so glad I read this right after Endgame because this is the fix-it Tony and we all deserved, this fic is so comforting and beautiful. I really love the quiet, ethereal atmosphere and how it shapes our perception of time and character development. Peter is beautifully written and their get together made my heart ache in peace.

• In the Morning by @cagestark (M, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter's pretty stressed. He isn't understanding physics despite all the extra time he is spending with Bruce. And underneath it all, something is wrong with Mr. Stark.

Review: Heart wrenching and painfully honest fic, where Tony is a jealous mess and Peter is his usual earnest, sweet and good self. They meet in the middle, and it’s quiet, beautiful and sad.

• Kiss Me by @ironspi

Summary: Five times Peter and Tony almost kiss and one time they did.

Review: This fic was such a lovely surprise! It begins unpretentious and it builds up to quality pining and unresolved sexual tension. Chapter 4 is particularly awesome, so charged and intimate. Kudos to the author for exploring Peter taking the lead and making Tony melt in his arms.

• Landslide by spqr (M, 8k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Peter jumps into the quantum realm with his heart in his throat. He steps out in 2018, on the edge of a lake he still has nightmares about. A hundred yards away over the water, the lights in the lakehouse are on.

Review: Morally ambiguous characters + angsty time travel? Count me in. This fic has a very interesting (and darker) take on Peter post-Thanos, in his raw and desperate grief over Tony. Bonus points for amazing dialogues and a fix-it plot so clever and believable I’m surprised I didn’t see it on screen.

• lean on me now by @areiton (G, 9k, on hiatus)

Summary: He’s so tired, and he hurts, the kind of screaming pain he’s struggling to ignore now, and he wants to go home. But he can do this. He can sit and watch, and keep them safe. A wry smile tugs at his lips because he knows how ridiculous that sounds--a kid keeping Avengers safe.

Review: One of the best canon divergence fics I’ve ever read. It’s quiet, angsty and Peter’s voice is simply amazing. My heart breaks for Tony, but I’m so here for Peter & Rhodey’s brOTP, the fandom deserves more of it.

• noticing by @areiton (NR, 2k, completed)

Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Rhodey tells Tony once, when Tony is drinking and conflicted and Peter is sleeping unaware on the couch. Tony watches him, eyes bright.

Review: How could I ever resist seeing Tony and Peter’s relationship development through Rhodey’s protective and thoughtful gaze? Any Tony stan should read this fic because this is the kind of love, friendship and support he deserves. Reading this put my mind at rest, knowing Tony’s cared for, and safe.

• Obvious by @learned-foot (M, 14k, completed)

Summary: When Peter wakes up, several things become very clear all at once: he’s underground somewhere unpleasant, something is messing with his powers, and his entire body hurts. A lot.

Review: WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP *victory dance* god this one is brutal, but we can trust LF to bring on full angst with an intriguing plot and A+++ characterization. I’m so here for protective!Tony doing whatever it takes to keep Peter safe, including all the confusion and heartbreak his problematic decisions may bring.

• Permission by @cagestark (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it. Generous Tony offers to offer it.

Review: This fic is unique and so very hot, but don’t let the smutty summary fool you. There is also tenderness and FEELS in capital letters. Despite their arrangement, pining!Tony is so vulnerable and so completely in love with Peter it kinda breaks my heart a little, but thankfully Cage is a big fan of happy endings like me, so we’re all safe in her hands.

***Post-Endgame NYE by @darker-soft-starker (M, completed)

Summary: Five years after the events of endgame Tony is resurrected. Months after that, he's still trying to find equilibrium

Review: Hands down the loveliest ‘flirting on a bench’ I’ve ever seen, and my top favorite NYE Starker fic. I love to see Tony facing an existential crisis while he navigates his new life post-resurrection, including the violent realization of ‘oh no, Peter’s an attractive adult now’. Gentle and gorgeous get together, kudos at Morgan for being a little devil and playing matchmaking.

• Proxy by @cagestark (E, 11k, completed)

Summary: Peter wants to know if Mr. Stark knows, like, anybody who’d be willing to make out with him. Things escalate from there.

Review: I have such a big soft spot for this fic because “by proxy” is one of my favorite tropes and Cage explored it masterfully. Again, this is pining!Tony at his best and Cage just has this ability to transform what once started as a sexy little thing into this soft and gentle love story, the kind that gives you butterflies in the stomach.

• Radar by @intoxicatelou (M)

Summary: Peter could say that he’s officially approached desperation, but he wants this, wants Tony, and he’s willing to do everything it takes. Or the one in which Peter tries to become Tony's celebrity crush from 2009 in order to seduce him.

Review: This is one of my favorites self-indulgent fics, I just can’t resist the good old “Peter’s seduction handbook” trope and intoxicatelou delivers it beautifully. This story is sweet, super fun and relatable af. There’s A+ pining, Peter being a bisexual disaster and MJ being the queen we all stan, shocking absolutely no one.

• Revelations by RTC anonymous (E, 127k, completed)

Summary: “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?” An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Review: I feel like I don’t need to justify this choice – almost everyone in the fandom has either heard of or read this masterpiece, it’s safe to say this fic is part of the Starker Training Wheels Protocol lol. If you have just arrived or is just exploring the fandom and enjoys slow burns I suggest you start right hee because it doesn’t get any better than this. There’s A+++ characterization, breathtaking pining, insane sexual tension and a very satisfying ending if I may say so. Definitely among my top 3 Starker fics. RTC anon, wherever you are, please know you are loved and appreciated. I’ll literally build an altar for you.

• Reversal by @learned-foot (E, 4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

Review: For once Peter makes Tony just lie down and take 😊 the fucking 😊 praise 😊. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this fic all my life. This is the praise kink Tony (and we all) deserve, genuine, gentle and powerful. If you’re a big sap for their love like I am, you’re in for an emotional ride because this is overwhelmingly sweet to the point it brings tears to your eyes. LF is such a gift to this fandom.

• Settling by @cagestark (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter really wants to be taller than Tony. Heels help.

Review: One of my favorites by Cage, I still remember how happy and giggly I felt when I first read it. There is A+++ characterization, amazing dialogue, Avengers domesticity, praise kink, the hottest blow job and my favorite Starker first kiss. Oh, did I mention Peter in heels and Tony loving every moment of it? You’re welcome :D

• Stipulations by RTC anonymous (E, 70k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker’s long term dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in... And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Review: Another fandom classic by our irreplaceable RTC anon, this fic is SO GOOD I keep coming back to it and just recently I realized I’ve built all my personal Starker headcanons out of it, lol. A+++ characterization and hot, delicious pining is a given with this author, but I’m really here for that senses-dialed-to-11 trope, and RTC delivers it masterfully.

• subtle by @areiton (T, 1k, completed)

Summary: Peter is not subtle. He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.

Review: This fic is like reading poetry, a balm to the heart. Peter wears Tony’s colors and by the time Tony finally gets the context clues they fall together in the gentlest, softest way.

• Take it slow by tuesday (E, 13k, completed)

Summary: There were a ton of reasons dating Peter was a bad idea. Tony loved bad ideas. He was going to do it anyway. In which Tony thinks they're dating, and then they're dating undercover.

Review: This fic is so endearing it’s basically impossible not to cheer for these two, despite their usual infuriating communication issues, lol. But I promise all the angst and wait are worth it, because there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing how they (finally!) get to be on the same page.

• the record spins on the trails we blaze by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 5k, completed)

Summary: Years after the events of Homecoming, Peter thought all of the bad memories were well and truly behind him. After all, so much has happened since then - and he's happy now. Everything is kinda perfect.Turns out nothing stays buried.

Review: Hell yes! I agree HoCo’s events were particularly traumatizing and this trope is not as explored as it should be. To put it simply, this fic is something I didn’t know that I needed and Ash delivered it beautifully. It’s incredibly gentle, cathartic and honest, not to mention the lovely domesticity and understanding between the characters that will make your heart swell.

• Under Someone Else by @learned-foot (M, 7k, completed)

Summary: Peter realizes he’s just a rebound. And he’s okay with that, really. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Review: FEELS, FEELS EVERYWHERE. It’s so hard to choose a favorite fic by LF but this is the first that comes to mind because it introduced me to the amazing rebound trope. It’s so refreshing to see this ship’s potential for angst and miscommunication playing into the “fuck first, talk later” scenario. Warning for vulnerable boys being idiots and breaking our hearts but P.P.P.S they do eventually get their shit together and it’s glorious!

• Up for Anything by tuesday (E, 8k, completed)

Summary: When it came to Tony Stark, Peter would take what he could get. In which Peter believes he's just a rebound. (Not Endgame compliant.)

Review: Of course there’s yet another gorgeous rebound rec because I can’t get enough of this trope. Honestly, LF and Tuesday writing for each other have provided some of the best fics this fandom has, God bless them. This is another treat featuring pining!Peter and the usual “I can’t communicate properly how much I fucking love you”, but there’s also bantering, delicious dirty talk and so much affection that you’ll read it all with the biggest smile on your face.

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

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kieraswriting · 3 years

Text

Coffin Chapter Twenty-Nine

Masterpost

Logan was very surprised to hear Virgil’s voice when he picked up the phone.

“Hi, Logan.”

“Virgil. Good morning. I trust everything is going well with you?”

“Mmhmm. Um… I had an idea, and I talked with Patton and Roman, and they said I should talk with you about it.”

“Yes?”

“What if… um, if I made some social media accounts? Told my story. I… sort of told someone, and they said that they hadn’t heard of things from a vampire’s side before. I was just hoping… maybe it could help, if people knew.”

Logan considered, taking a long breath. “Alright. Putting aside the dangers from already telling someone, we would have to get you a new phone, a vpn, and a fake email address and ID, to begin with. I believe that this idea has merit, but we wouldn’t be able to begin immediately.”

There was a pause. “Really?”

There was a lot of emotion in that voice, not something easily unpacked by Logan ever, much less over a phone. “Yes. I think your idea is a very good one.”

“Thanks.” Virgil’s voice was still choked with emotion, and Logan hoped that it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Why don’t you send me the details of what you’ve said already and where you’ve said it. I’ll try to be sure it’s as untraceable as possible, and I’ll help you set up for the other as soon as possible.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Thanks, Logan.”

“You’re very welcome, Virgil.”

As illogical as it was, Logan felt like he could almost hear a smile before Virgil hung up.

“What happened?” Emile asked.

Logan was relieved that Emile asked, especially in so light a tone. He’d seemed pretty upset earlier, and Logan knew that a lot of it was his fault, a point which was driven home by the glares Remy kept sending him.

“Virgil wants to try making social media accounts to spread information from the vampire side of things.”

“Oh.” Emile nodded slowly. “Ohhhh, that could be a really good idea! Getting our side of things out to the public could change a lot!”

“Our?” Logan said.

“Yeah! As people trying to help vampires. If you watch TV, you’d never guess that anyone ever did it.”

Logan considered, and didn’t have to think long at all to realize that he’d never seen any stories about resistance to the sweep by humans, other than vague ‘infringing on freedoms and privacy’.”

“Can I help?” Emile asked.

“Ah, yes, of course. I’m sure that something like this would work best with more help.”

Emile pulled out his phone. “Virgil’s using Roman’s phone, right?”

“Yes, but you can’t post anything yet, not when it could be tracked.”

“I know, I’m just gonna talk with Virgil for a bit.”

•^*^••

Whoever has the phone, can you pass it to Virgil? -Emile :)

Virgil blinked at the text. He hadn’t expected this so soon after talking with Logan.

Hi, Emile. This is Virgil. He wrote, and then erased the last bit, replacing it with -Virgil to match Emile’s.

Hi, Virgil! How’s it going? Logan told me you idea, and I really like it!

*your

Thanks. Virgil wrote, and then his mind blanked. How was he ever supposed to answer questions online if he couldn’t even hold a half decent conversation with Emile?

So I was thinking, and you don’t have to go with this if you had an idea, but what if you chat with me for a bit and I can ask questions, and then we can write up a ‘big story’ type of thing that we can post later?

Yeah, I like that. I wrote down a lot of it, but if you want to ask questions, that would be fine.

You know, I think you’re really brave for doing this. Opening yourself up like this to help people.

Virgil didn’t know what to say to that. He felt both flattered and dumbfounded. Thankfully, Emile was texting again.

As far as questions, should we split them up by anything? Like pre-vampire/post-vampire? Or general vampire questions versus Virgil only questions?

I don’t know. I’m not like most vampires, so I might give the wrong answers for the general questions.

I’m sure all vampires are a bit different. Remy’s with me, and I can talk with him, but he’s going to have different answers too, since he was born a vampire. Also, he says ‘Hiya, babes.’

Ok. We can try questions. Thanks for helping. (Should I say hi back to Remy?)

You’re welcome! :) And yeah, if you want to, I’ll tell him whatever you say!

Then Hi, Remy. After a moment of thought, Virgil changed the period to an explanation point before sending the text.

He says drink some coffee in honor of him. (But please don’t unless you really wanted to, he’s mostly joking) Anyway, first question! What name do you want to go by?

Virgil hadn’t considered alternate names for a while. Probably V would be unsafe to use, or any other derivative of his name.

What about Anxiety?

Anything that makes you comfortable is fine. :)

Ok. Thanks.

You’re welcome! ;) So, first question, how is a vampire made?

A human on the brink of death can be turned, and… there’s something special about it, but I don’t know exactly what. Virgil thought for a minute. Maybe ask Remy?

There was a bit of a gap before Emile texted back.

Remy says that it’s instinctual, at least for him. That it feels similar to making a thrall at first, but then it changes as they become a vampire.

Ahh. Should I write that down?

Logan’s been keeping notes, but thanks for offering! :) So next question, how and when were you turned?

Virgil had to pause. He’d already told this story before, but it didn’t seem to make it any easier now. Especially when it seemed that Emile was reading the texts out loud, and both Logan and Remy would hear. But this was the way to help people, and he would probably get asked this question a lot.

It was about two years ago, my dad, who was a vampire, drank too much blood and then left me. I thought I was going to die, but then a different vampire I knew turned me and kept me with her.

Virgil, I’m very sorry that happened to you.

Virgil wished he could remember how to make the shrug emoji. He didn’t really know what to say. It certainly wasn’t pleasant to think about, but it was done now. He’d probably never see his dad again, so it wasn’t like it really mattered.

Thanks. What’s the next question?

There was a bit of a pause before Emile texted back. Remy says let him know if you want him to, and he’ll go after your dad.

That actually made Virgil crack a smile. He didn’t want Remy trying to find his dad, but it was surprisingly nice to have that offer.

“Hey, Virge, done with the phone yet?” Roman asked, peeking in through the door.

“Oh. Um… kind of, I mean, I finished the call but,” Virgil stammered. He really should’ve asked before just starting a whole new conversation.

“Nah, it’s fine. What’re you up to now?”

“Emile’s texting me.”

Roman grinned. “Tell him hi from me then, yeah?” Without even waiting for an answer he waved and left.

Virgil glanced back down at the phone.

Second question: How much do vampires need to eat, and how often?

Well, a quart once a month would probably be fine, but most vampires I’ve known preferred to have smaller meals more frequently, and a really big meal every few months. Also Roman says hi.

Hi, Roman! And that’s interesting. Remy says he likes more than that, but that might be because he’s a born vampire. It would be interesting to have this conversation with Dee also.

Maybe Dee would want to help?

He might! I’ll call him in a bit and see if he’s interested.

He might not though. I don’t think he likes talking about his past.

And if he doesn’t, that’s fine. I’ll just ask. Ok! Question three: Do vampires actually go into blood-frenzies?

It depends I think. Some vampires are half-crazy from the time they get turned, and I think they would. I never did. Though, if I haven’t eaten for a really long time, it gets hard to have humans near me. What about Remy?

•^*^••

Logan was increasingly intrigued with the answers, especially getting the information from two such different sources, and in such a way that he believed it all to be true and grounded in experience.

“Ehh, I don’t know about frenzy,” Remy drawled. “And it’s different too, cause if you get too full it’s almost like a high, but too empty and that’ll really mess with your head, but in a very different way. I don’t know that I’ve ever been much more violent because of it though.”

Emile just nodded, typing away.

“Can you ask Virgil what the differences between human hunger and vampire hunger are?” Logan asked.

“Sure!” Emile said, typing again. “Oh, he says he’s never been that full, maybe it’s just a born vampire thing?”

Remy shook his head. “Nah, I’ve seen it on enough vampires. Poor kid.”

Emile got a worried frown as he nodded.

“Em.” Remy said, more seriously.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t offer to let him drink from you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re… sweeter, than most humans. Way more than hunters, certainly. It’s like having a really good espresso after cheap gas station coffee, and if he keeps drinking from hunters it’ll just make him want the other. Not fun all around.”

“Ahh, yeah, I think I get it. Poor Virgil.” Emile’s frown disappeared as the phone buzzed. “He says that it feels like human hunger, but it makes him get all jittery, and it gets to where he feels like he’s losing control over his body.”

Logan nodded, comparing Virgil’s explanation to how he’d acted when Logan had ‘tested’ him. It did make sense.

“I’m asking him what the relationship between a vampire and their sire is like,” Emile said.

“Mmm, well, I’ve never been on the other end,” Remy said, keeping his eyes on the road. “But it’s a little like a thrall. A lot weaker, but they’ll be all doe-eyed and lovey, especially if you want them to be. You can do a lot of forcing too, but not completely.”

“Virgil said it felt like she was his mom and dad mixed together.” Emile got a really sad look on his face. “No wonder he was so devastated that she was killed.”

Logan nodded. He hadn’t thought that the relationship would’ve been that strong, and he’d discounted Virgil’s grief about it the few times Virgil had spoken about it. He honestly was glad that Emile was the one asking, as Emile was consistently considerate about things like that, whereas anyone else would likely cause Virgil to clam up.

“Would you ask him what sunlight feels like?” Logan asked. “It certainly doesn’t affect vampires the way it does in myth.”

“It stings,” Remy offered. “Hence the jacket and glasses. It’s manageable, but it’s better just not to.”

Emile stared at the phone for a bit before replying. “He says that it’s like the middle of summer, when you can feel the sun hitting your skin, and you just know that you’re going to be burnt despite the sunscreen, but all the time, and that the temperature is still whatever temperature it is.”

“That truly is interesting,” Logan mused, writing down both answers. “Would a vampire be injured by remaining in the sun for a length of time, or would it heal as quickly as other injuries seem to?”

“It depends. Sun-injuries, like silver injuries, only really heal if we have blood in our system. So a vampire held outside without eating probably would be hurt by it. Might even die.”

“Virgil says he doesn’t know, he hasn’t tried,” Emile piped up.

Logan nodded seriously, writing it down.

•^*^••

Virgil’s mind was spinning. After just twelve questions he’d asked to save more for later. Even he hadn’t thought that long about vampires and how they worked. And he was a little annoyed that he only had half answers for so many of the questions.

“Roman? I’m done with the phone now.”

Roman’s head popped up from the log at the table, and he shoved something underneath it as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What are you doing with the log?” Virgil asked, holding out the phone.

“Uhhh…. I’ll tell you, but I won’t show you.”

“Why?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

“I have a knife.”

Virgil took a step back.

“Oh, no, wait!” Roman pleaded. “This is why I hid it, I don’t want you to feel threatened. I’d never, ever go near you with it. Give me a minute to put it away, and then I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

Virgil suddenly didn’t trust Roman enough to close his eyes. And he hated that he didn’t, because he knew that Roman wouldn’t hurt him, but he just couldn’t seem to believe it.

“Tell you what, just head back into the bedroom for just thirty more seconds so I can put it away.”

Virgil nodded, and backed into the bedroom so he didn’t have to turn around. Roman called him back only moments later.

Roman had turned the log around, showing that part of it was all cut, and there was a vague shape in the middle.

“It’s supposed to be a bird, but I really need something to look at to make it do right, which is why I came to see if you were done with the phone earlier.”

Virgil squinted. “Yeah. You definitely need a reference picture.”

Roman crossed his arms, his face more pouting than angry. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad! And I'm not even half done yet.”

Virgil grinned. He had a sudden desire to try one himself. But he wasn’t certain that he could handle touching anything that was silvery, and he wasn’t sure he could sit near Roman doing it either. But he absolutely didn’t want to kick Roman off of his activity just to help him.

And at that moment Patton got back from grocery shopping. Virgil hid a smile at his fake mustache that didn’t suit him at all, and the baseball cap pulled down half over his face.

“I also got pizza! And it’s probably still warm!” Patton said proudly.

“Aw, yes!” Roman cheered, racing outside to get the pizza.

#sanders sides #vampire au #vampires #blood #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #remy sleep #my own work #coffin #violence #speciesism #vampire virgil #platonic moxiety

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muwur · 4 years

Note

hii :-) ur writing is so cute!!! could i uhh get some super fluffy mayb a lil suggestive one shot or scenario about being quarantined with oikawa post-time skip? 🥺

quarantining

✩ oneshot ✩ for oikawa

❧ gn reader

✎ 2.2k words

a/n: gotchu! hopefully i didnt take too long ;(( i have trouble getting inspo, it usually will hit me all at once or neverr. hope you like cx

wishin i got some quality times during quarantine, y/n out here rlly living their best n domestic life smh

also, i hope this was fluffy! ik i made it a bit silly and playful so i hope thats ok! lmk if you would like me to attempt again and id be more than happy too cx

requests: open!

So far, it’s been a month into quarantine. Despite having lived with Oikawa’s needy self for the past two years, being stuck at home with him all the time definitely tested your patience, especially when he was bored, seeking attention, and missing volleyball.

“Oikawaaa, hold on, I’m almost done with work. Maybe talk to Iwa for a bit until I’m free,” you suggested as you typed away at your computer, not even sparing your whiny boyfriend a glance as he lamented about his boredom.

“Iwa’s already asleeeppp and there’s nothing to do hereeeee,” he complained. He pulled up a seat next to you and poked your cheek repeatedly. “Having a long distance best friend and an s/o who doesn’t care about you is harddd, why does life give me such a hard time?” he despaired, referring to his best friend who lived in another country, and you, his partner, who was trying to do work so you both could be financially stable in the middle of this pandemic.

You rolled your eyes in response and turned in your chair to face him, grabbing his cheeks in your hands and giving them a squeeze. “Boohoo, I think someone’s gotten a little too used to having fan girls entertain him all the time.” You gave his pouty lips a quick peck. “I’ll be done in 20 minutes, max. Go watch some tik toks or something.”

After you returned to doing your work, Oikawa settled for wrapping his arms from behind you and resting his chin on top of your head. He hummed to himself some trendy tik tok song he discovered the other day as he played with your hair, and you found the vibrations from his throat and the soft tugs on your scalp strangely soothing.

As much as you rolled your eyes or scoffed at his antics, you loved when he would go out of his way to catch your eye. Oikawa knew what would get to you. He could make you smile, laugh, piss you off, or comfort you in an instant.

You felt your heart soften at a memory from not too long ago.

“Hmmmmm,” Oikawa thought aloud, stroking his chin with his thumb. “Put that one... here.”

“Yes ma’am,” you responded, placing a pillow in the gap between two other pillows. Then, you both took opposite ends of the same blanket, draping it over the array of pillows you arranged on the living room floor and thus completing your pillow fort.

He eagerly slid inside the castle and patted the spot next to him. “y/nnnn, hurry up and lay here with me so we can watch our favorite show while we cuddle and I feed you~”

You couldn’t help but smile as you obliged, easing into the spot next to him. You both lay on your stomachs, supported by a single, long pillow stuffed underneath your chests. Oikawa hooked an arm around your waist, closing the gap between you two. His free hand reached for a bag of your favorite snacks. He opened it, picked up a piece, then held it up to your face.

Just as you were about to take a bite, your face contorted into an expression of shock and betrayal when you saw him quickly seize the piece into his own mouth. Looking at your gaping face, he raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that was for you?”

And that was how he ended up face down and star fished on the floor, with you sitting cross-legged on his back and triumphantly munching on your snacks, surrounded by a chaotic mass of fluffy pillows and blankets.

“I win,” you giggle through your bites.

“No fair! That pillow to my face came outta nowhere!”

15 minutes passed by when you finally finished, closed your laptop, and hugged his arms. “Alright, I’m all yours now, what’s up?” you tilted your head back and glanced upwards to meet his gaze, the corners of your lips turning upwards in a small smile.

“Wellllll, I was thinking of sharing a nice dinner together, maybe a fragrant bath...” he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Pffft,” you spit out, shoving his face away playfully and getting up to your feet. “Only if your highness will make me dinner. I’m hungry after a long day’s work of breadwinning. What have you even been doing all day?”

“Uhhh...” Oikawa pursed his lip and looked at the ceiling in faux thought. Then his eyes landed back on you sheepishly, “Nothing.”

Laughing, you gave his cheek a soft pat and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen. “Of course, I expected nothing less of you, Lazykawa,” you jibed, well aware you were using one of Iwa’s classic nicknames on him.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get something ready for us. You just sit your pretty self at the table and watch.”

"I want a close up view, though,” you remarked, snaking your arms under his own from behind as he was investigating the fridge’s contents.

“Works for me,” he winked.

You clung onto him and followed his steps around the kitchen, taking in his refreshing scent and observing judging his meal preparation.

“Mm, yes, instant ramen, quite the challenge, Oikawa. What’s your strategy?”

“Divide and conquer. Watch and learn, y/n.”

He exaggerated his movements throughout the cooking process, which made clinging onto him a bit of a struggle, to say the least. He finally poured the cooked noodles and soup into a large bowl, adding in some boiled eggs, seaweed, and green onion for embellishment. “Voila!” he bragged, carrying the dish slowly to your small dining table as you continued to follow him. Oikawa set the bowl down, “Dig in, honey.”

Unlatching yourself from his back, you took a seat next to him and lay a head lazily on his shoulder. His heart fluttered at the sight of your cheek nestling comfortably into him, and he mentally kicked himself for letting your proximity make him experience those first date jitters all over again, even though it’s been four years since that time. He took in the details of your face, feeling his heartrate quicken when your eyes slowly flickered upwards at him from underneath your eyelashes. Your sweet lips parted slightly, looking like honey could drip from them at any moment. They were captivating, but tread the wrong way and he could be left stung. He wanted them to say his name, longingly--

“Well, are we going to eat or just sit here and let the food get cold?”

“O-Oh, right,” he stuttered out, taking a pair of chopsticks and dipping them into the bowl. How had his mind strayed so easily? He might act like he could keep his cool all the time, but with you, that was a different story. Four years whipped by quickly, but the thought of you never failed to bring him a sense of comfort, anticipation, embarrassment, and intrigue all at once.

He picked up a few strands of noodles and blew on them gently. The steam from the bowl rose to warm both your cheeks, marking them with a dewy, rosy tinge. Oikawa brought the noodles up to your open mouth, which you received with such delight that he had to refrain from gushing over how cute it looked. He continued to feed both of you, listening as you talked about work, how your friends were in quarantine, and what you wanted to do when things got back to normal. Although he was attentive, making sure to acknowledge your words with some sort of response such as a nod or a reply, he could feel a knot in his stomach begin to tighten ever so slightly. When his mind wandered, he couldn’t help but think about what the future held for you both.

You were one of the most supportive people in his life. You decided to move here in order to stay close to him and support his career and passion for volleyball. You found yourself a job in order to help make a living and adjust to your new lifestyle. You put effort everyday into your relationship, making sure you looked after one another and communicated your needs. Your empathy and understanding were unmatched, and he couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like for the last two years if you never came along with him. Reaching back farther, he was almost positive the last four years of his life and all the good that’s come his way since then was thanks to you.

“To be honest, that ramen hit the spot more than I expected it to,” you sighed with satisfaction. Then, you looked over at him and noticed the slight furrow of his brows. “Tooru...? Helloo?”

You waved a hand in his face and jolted him from his thoughts. He took your hands and looked into your eyes with a spark of determination. “Y/n.”

“Uhhh... Yes?” you asked, a bit confused.

Closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he proceeded. “The years we’ve been together have been among the best in my life. You’ve never failed to make me feel safe and happy, and I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you by my side. I need you to stay with me, to look after me while I also take care of you. I know we’ve only fantasized and shared jokes about the future, like when we tell our children stories, you’ll make fun of me and share with them some of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. When we get a pet dog (or cat, or any other pet you prefer), I’ll have to compete with it for your attention, and I’ll probably lose. When I’m old and my knee finally gives out on me, you’ll lug me around on your back. But I don’t want those things to remain little jokes; I want to experience all those moments with you, no matter how big or small. That said...”

Once Tooru realized what he was about to suggest, his cheeks flushed and he accidentally bit his tongue. “Ow, fuck!”

Startled and still caught off guard from his sweet words, your eyes widened as you choked out, “H-Huh?? What’s wrong, what happened?? Tooru?” You tried to convince yourself the heat you felt was due to the hot ramen and your concern for Oikawa.

I was just about to ask for your hand in marriage.

He held his hands in front of his face, waving them around in frantic dismissal. “N-Nothing, I just bit my tongue..!” Gotta think, gotta think of a cover...! What else could I even say that would make sense after having said all that..?!

He took in another deep breath and held up both your hands again, bringing them close to his mouth and giving them a kiss. “When this is all over... W-Why don’t we take a trip somewhere? We’ll go anywhere you like! Just us two, going on adventures, having drinks, doing fun things.”

You sighed out in relief, releasing your pent-up anxiety. “T-That’s all?! I-I mean, ah yes, of course! That sounds amazing, I’ve always wanted to go to *insert place here lol* and this would be the perfect chance!”

You cupped his face gently and brought him in for a warm, soft kiss. His lips meshed with yours as his hand reached for your jaw. His thumb caressed over your right cheekbone, pulling you closer and giving you a sense of security.

Though, at the back of your mind, you had suspected, Was he about to propose? But then you thought, Nah, if he was considering it, I don’t think he’d do that right now, stuck at home during quarantine. Now, what if I proposed before he did.... Hm...

And his mind was filled with, Oh thank god I caught myself, I don’t know what I would’ve done, I don’t even have anything ready, I never thought about it as seriously as I did in that moment, what was I thinking, also ramen tastes kinda good on their mouth...

A few minutes passed when you broke apart. He spent a few seconds looking into your eyes, which glistened with passion and love. “You’re really sweet, Tooru, you know that?” you said with a smile. He smiled, giving you a kiss on your forehead before standing up abruptly, much to your dismay. But then he offered to wash the dishes, much to your content and appreciation.

He finished not too soon after, then walked into the living room to find you splayed out on the couch and browsing your phone.

“I made dinner like I promised, so into the bath we go!” he yelled, hooking his arms underneath your back and legs to lift your body. You yelped in surprise, dropping your phone on the sofa. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, laughing as he rushed towards the bathroom.

“Fine, I’ll keep up my end of the deal,” you said, reaching for the bathroom door’s handle and turning it open. Once inside, he kicked it shut with his foot and set you down on the sink counter. He moved towards the tub to turn on the warm water, then came back to the counter and held up two bath bombs. “So, you want rose or lavender?”

But instead, you hooked onto him once more and pulled him into a needy kiss.

Someday soon, when this is over, you’ll be mine forever, y/n.

Despite having lived with Oikawa’s dorky self for the past two years, having to be stuck at home with him all the time had definitely its perks. There wasn’t anyone else you would’ve rather spent your time with, that’s for sure.

a/n: fihuofiejmcg i tried LOL, i hope you liked, honestly was just typing ad goign along till i got ideas! I wouldnt let myself sleep until i finished this sdfghjk anyways. we luv oikawa. also i hope that last thought of his dont sound creepy LMAO

ps i shoulda been filling out my job application but lmaoooo

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyu fluff #oikawa fluff

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