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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 2: The Alert

Ch. 1 < Series masterlist > Ch. 3

Warnings: kidnapping, mention of death.

Summary: The team finds out that Canary is missing. Price calls a friend for a favor.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 2300~

November 18th

Captain John Price fiddled with the keys in his pocket absent-mindedly. He claimed not to have favorites in his team, but he couldn’t deny that, from the moment he woke up, he had been lurking close to the front section of base where he had the gates in clear view, with his coffee mug and his cigar, waiting for Canary to show up.

He hadn’t had time to feel bored during her medical leave, but it was no surprise that base seemed a bit duller without her - and the boys - around. He genuinely missed having her half-asleep at the cafeteria, at least fifteen minutes before the actual morning call, sipping on a cup of coffee and munching on some toast while staring at nothing, only to have her bouncing off the walls in training less than thirty minutes later.

When his thoughts were interrupted by the medic radioing him that Canary hadn’t yet shown up for her last checkup to get the medical clearance to get back on duty, an acid feeling settled at the bottom of his throat. He knew it was his instinct screaming at him that something was wrong. Price radioed the gate, asking the guard if Canary had ever reported to base. After a few seconds, he received the negative, and alarm bells began ringing in his head. Something was definitely wrong.

Price knew that Canary was eager - giddy even - to get back on duty. The last week of her rest in the infirmary she had been nearly climbing the walls, definitely hungry for some action despite her injuries, and anxious about Ghost and Soap leaving on a mission without her.

Therefore, he knew that she was definitely not going to avoid reporting back on duty.

The thought of her oversleeping crossed her mind, and although it didn’t seem feasible - as she had never overslept before -, there was always a first time for everything. Still, he walked back to his office and retrieved his phone from his drawer, looking for her contact info and pressing the ‘call’ button.

The monotone tune went uninterrupted for several seconds, until her voice piped up.

“Hi! If you called this number you know who I am, but I can’t reach the phone now, so leave a message and I might call you later, bye~!”

Price sighed and stared at his phone with a frown, not bothering to leave a message before hanging up. He didn’t like this one bit. He tried ringing her two more times, but gave up when he reached the answering machine every time.

He put the phone in his pocket this time, and pondered what to do next, as he heard a knock on the door. He looked up to Gaz as he stood at the doorway, his knuckles still raised against the open door and a worried frown in his features.

“Captain, am I interrupting?,” he asked, and Price shook his head.

“Not really, I actually may need your help with something. But is there something you need?”

“Well, just wanted to ask about Canary,” Gaz walked into the office, “haven’t seen her at all today, she wasn’t in the infirmary or her barracks, and she was supposed to be here by now.”

“Yeah, that’s what I need help with,” Price groaned, scratching his sideburn thoughtfully, “I tried calling her, but no answer. I was planning on going to her apartment to see if everything’s alright, but you can go instead.” He reached into the same drawer his phone was in, and searched around for a couple of keys held in a keychain with a yellow feather. He handed Gaz the keys. “The big one is for the gate of her apartment, and the small one is for the door. Call me as soon as you learn something.”

Gaz nodded and took the keys, turning around and heading straight to the parking lot. Price let out a throaty sigh and stared at his half-burnt cigar.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel like smoking anymore.

~~~~~~

Gaz arrived at the apartment complex a little after eight AM. He had visited Canary at her apartment before, so he already knew how to push the tricky gate. As he opened it, he climbed the stairs to the second floor two steps at a time. As he arrived at the correct hallway, he saw Canary’s elderly neighbor watering a plant at her front door while balancing herself with a cane.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he tipped his cap at her, smiling when she looked up at him in recognition.

“Oh, hello!” she grinned, accentuating the permanent wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, “you’re one of Birdy’s friends, right? I’m sorry I don't remember your name…”

“You can call me Gaz, ma’am,” his smile was soft, finding her sheepishness adorable, and pointed at the door of Canary’s apartment, “have you met Canary today?”

“Well, no,” she tilted her head a little, leaving her watering can in the form of an elephant on the floor, slowly straightening herself and holding onto her cane with both hands, “I did see her yesterday when she went out on her run. She was excited to go back on base today, I thought she was going to flutter away,” she chuckled softly, but her smile fell a little when she noticed the worry in his eyes, “is everything okay, son?”

Gaz hummed and shrugged a little, trying to conceal his worry better. It wouldn’t do any good if the news of her disappearance started spreading like wildfire around the complex. “She may have overslept or something, I just came to check on her.”

“Oh, alright,” she nodded slowly, a worried frown adorning her features, “well, let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Sure ma’am, thank you,” he nodded at her again and turned to open the door of the apartment.

Once he was inside, he shut the door behind himself, taking in the place his friend called ‘home’. Her tactical boots and her military issued bag were by the entrance, packed and ready to work. The place was sparkling clean and eerily quiet. As he walked past the kitchen, he didn’t see any signs of breakfast having been made, and a pang of uneasiness settled in his chest. Slowly, he made his way to her bedroom and pushed the door open. The bed was made and empty, and looked as if no one had slept on it. Her uniform hung neatly from the door of the closet, ready to be worn. Her bathroom was also empty and dry - no signs of a morning shower, nor an evening one.

Gaz looked at his own reflection in the mirror on top of the sink, taking in his own features, wondering when was the last time Canary had looked at herself on it.

With a groan, he pulled out his phone, clicking on Price’s contact, unsurprised when he picked up at the second ring.

“Well?” his captain sounded uneasy, and Gaz regretted not having any better news to share with him.

“There are no signs of her in the apartment,” he began, “everything’s clean and in order, her bag and boots by the entrance, her uniform hanging on the closet door. Her neighbor told me she saw her go for a run yesterday, but didn’t see her again.”

Price didn’t like the sound of any of it. His frown deepened even more when he caught on the slightly rushed pace of Gaz’s talking - he was growing worried too. “Shut the apartment and come back for now, I have a few calls to make.”

“Copy that, sir,” Gaz ended the call and walked out of the apartment, grateful that missus Marian was now inside her own apartment, as he rushed out of the complex. As he ran down the stairs, a cold chill settled at the base of his neck.

~~~~~

Price searched through his contacts and found the name he was looking for. He pressed ‘call’ and listened to the three rings it took for the person on the other side to answer.

“Price?” the man grunted a little, “don’t tell me you want to suck me dry in poker again, ye bastard.”

If he had been in a better mood, Price would’ve barked a laugh at the answer, but he simply offered a sigh, which made the other perk up in curiosity.

“Not this time, Timmy, I have a favor to ask.”

~~~~~

“Stop that, it’s annoying,” Ghost chastised, throwing a half-hearted glare at Soap, particularly at his shaking knee.

“Oh shut it, ya dunce,” Soap playfully snapped back, “I can see you twiddlin’ your thumbs from here,” he smirked, as Ghost quickly put his hands in his pockets and looked away from him, “admit it, you’re just as eager to get out of here and find our Tweety-bird.”

Their plane had landed about twenty minutes earlier, at ten AM sharp. They half-expected Canary to meet them at the landing ground, but weren’t too surprised when she wasn’t there. She had just come out of medical leave, so there was a battery of tasks she’d have to complete to prove she was ready to get back to work.

There was a warmth that washed over both of them at the prospect of seeing their girl after almost two months of no-contact. However, the post-mission briefing came first. And so they sat at the briefing room, waiting for Price and Gaz.

After a few more minutes, Price walked through the doors with Gaz and a gentleman they didn’t recognise.

Their captain greeted them with a grin and a nod, “Welcome back, and well done, boys, you got back in one piece too,” Soap grinned at him and nodded back.

“Very tricky in the beginning, got easier later on,” he started, but Price interrupted him.

“The report can wait, we have more important matters at hand now.” his voice was suddenly firm and serious, and Ghost didn’t like it one bit. Since he knew Price, the man proved himself to be quite easy-going in his reactions and manners in general, so when his voice grew serious, it only meant very serious business.

Ghost glanced at the strange gentleman, and Price followed his eyes before signaling to him with a hand, “This is detective Timothy Hartford,” he introduced him, “he is an old mate of mine, and he’s here to help us.”

“Help us with what?,” Soap arched his eyebrow, then glanced at Gaz, who remained quiet, although there was a small frown in his brow and his lips.

Ghost also noticed it, and stared at Price, “What happened, Captain?”

Price let out a long sigh he didn’t realize he was holding, and clenched his jaw, knowing his next words would shake both Ghost and Soap to the core.

“Canary is missing, she didn’t report back for duty.”

~~~~~

“Do you see anything missing?” Detective Hartford questioned aloud, the question directed to both Ghost, who had been looking around the bedroom, and Soap, who had been searching in the kitchen for the past twenty minutes. It was decided it would be them who searched around the apartment, given the fact that they were the ones who spent the longest there, only second to Canary herself.

“No breakfast was eaten,” Soap called back, “her sandwich is still in the fridge, probably prepared yesterday, and her coffee maker is sparkling clean.”

“Aside from her running shoes, leggings, and hoodie,” Ghost continued, “her gloves are missing.”

Soap perked up at his comment and peeked through the hallway where her bedroom was, just as Ghost walked out and locked eyes with him.

~~~~~

“Didn’t know you’d like the gloves so much, Tweety-bird,” Johnny teased, watching her carry her grocery bags out of his car and towards the apartment.

Canary chuckled and threw him a wink over her shoulder, “well, it’s because you and Simon gave them to me, they’re my favorites!” Johnny felt his face grow warm as he followed her to the apartment, carrying a couple more bags inside.

“Besides,” she continued, and looked at him with a tender expression that left him all breathless, “when I wear them, no matter where we are in the world, I imagine it’s you and Simon holding my hands.”

~~~~~

The frown in Soap’s brow didn’t go unnoticed to Ghost, who could imagine what he was thinking about. As the detective excused himself to answer his phone in the living room, he inched closer to him, uncovering his hand to brush his knuckle against his bicep. When Soap’s eyes met him again, Ghost nodded - a reassurance.

We’ll find her.

Soap let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, and looked around the apartment, suppressing a shiver. Without her, it was so cold.

His eyes landed on a framed photo on her wall. He recognized it immediately, as he had taken it himself. It was a photo of Canary in full tactical gear, belly flat on the floor as she looked through the scope of her rifle. On her back sat a magpie all too comfortable, enjoying the rise and fall of her breathing.

“You lookin’ like a proper Disney princess there,” he had teased her when he snapped the shot.

Seeing it in a frame on her wall tenderized him, a small voice in the back of his head pondering whether he would only see her again in photos like that.

“Right, thanks,” Hartford ended his call and turned to the group of four, who looked at him expectantly. There was a sour look in the detective’s face, as he couldn’t help but empathize with the men around him. “I need one of you to come with me.”

“What for?” Price spoke up, a tense silence falling into the apartment, so thick and heavy they could almost taste it in their lungs.

“...Identification,” Hartford pressed his lips together, “a body was found under the bridge near the forest.”

A/N: I'm...so sorry.

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @ragingbookdragon @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373

To be added to the taglist, comment on the series' masterlist post above 🫶♥️

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mikaharuka · 1 year

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7 Snippets, 7 People

So, I noticed this new tag game that @late-to-the-fandom posted, and decided to jump on the open tag, because why not? From what I've seen, the concept is seven snippets with a common thread

I'll tag (no pressure): @tsunderewatermelon, @udaberriwrites, @mrsmungus, @sliebman10, @writingpotato07, @oceangirl24, @danceswithdarkspawn, @kayedium-writes, @sarahlizziewrites, @axolotlsupremacyowo, @alpaca-clouds, @frostedlemonwriter, @aohendo, and the open tag for anyone else interested.

For my seven snippets, I figured I'd capture the evolving friendship between Beau and Mike, over the 14 chapters of Apricity that are up.

1 - Amethyst Impasse (Ch 3)

While Mme. Allaire took attendance, a hand tapped lightly on his desk. Beau looked over to find a conventionally cute, slightly baby-faced blond guy. “Are you Beauregard Swan?” “Yeah, though I go by Beau. And you are…?” “Mike Newton.” He nodded at the half-Korean boy. “Looks like you already met Eric.” “He helped me find the room in time.” Beau looked at Eric. “Thanks again.” “All good!” Eric grinned at him. “By the way… what classes are you taking?” Beau put his schedule on his desk and motioned at Eric and Mike. “Honors student, huh? Definitely not me… we might share lunch though,” Eric said. Mike looked at the schedule. “We share a lot of classes… but in different blocks. We have AP Bio together after lunch, though. Did you need help finding the rooms?” “I think I can find them, but I’ll be sure to ask if I need help.” Mike nodded at him. Right then, Mme. Allaire called out another student for texting in class. Mike and Eric quickly turned their attention forward, not wanting to get called out. Beau was secretly grateful; though he appreciated their kindness, he needed a quick breather. He wasn’t used to that level of interaction or attention yet - hopefully that would change soon.

2 - Cerise Blossom (Ch 6)

Mike was only a few yards away from Beau when everything went down. Maybe he could help him make sense of things? Beau would have to ask him later, but for now, he read Mike’s messages. Mike: ‘Beau. Just wanted to check in’ Mike: ‘Hope you're feeling a bit better’ Mike: ‘Reply whenever works. No rush’ Mike: ‘Make sure to rest though’ Beau appreciated the space Mike offered, but he wanted to ask him about the accident. Or should he? He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind. Maybe, Beau could give himself a few days. Beau: ‘On my way home now. Everything’s good’ Mike: ‘Glad to hear. We were really worried about you’ Beau: ‘I bet the gossip mill is running at full speed’ Mike: ‘More like it's working overtime lol’ [...] Mike: ‘Should I tell the others if they ask?’ Mike: ‘About the accident, I mean?’ Beau: ‘Sure, tell them whatever’ Mike: ‘Will do. Go home and get some rest’ Mike: ‘I’ll try to keep the others away for now' Mike: ‘We’ll figure out the notes and homework’ Beau: ‘Thanks Mike’ Beau: ‘I'm ready to call it quits for the day’ Mike: ‘See you when you get back’

3 - Jade Challenge (Ch 8)

It would be really useful to see Mike’s brain pick the hospital mess apart, but… “I… err…” Beau flushed slightly. “If you don’t want to say, that’s fine. Other clues will show up.” “No, it’ll be better to get everything on the table now.” “Are you sure? You’re looking a bit… err…” “It’s fine. It’s just… this is going to sound really stupid, but… uhh…” “Beau - we’ve already sailed well past stupidity into outright supernatural conspiracy.” “Oh my god. Mike! We’re full-blown conspiracy theorists now!” Beau cackled loudly. Mike put his head in his hands. “What even is my life right now?” “You sure you want to ask me that?” “Point. I can’t imagine what that feels like.” “Well, it became your problem ever since you overslept and ran late that day.” “Oh come on! I was just trying to do some last-minute studying for the midterm!” “And where did that land you?” Beau asked smugly. “...point. Again.” Mike shook his head. “So… what was your idea?” Beau sighed. “It’s a long story.” Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound. [...] “I know everyone makes eyes at the Cullens, but wow. That’s certainly… uh… intense.” “Hey, you’re the one who asked!” Beau exclaimed. “I know, I know, thanks for sharing.” Mike appeased him, holding his palms up. “I do see why you think it’s related, though.”

4 - Azure Mystique (Ch 11)** [**this takes place in Agni: Nakshatra, Ch 3's fire/star phase]

The two boys stood frozen for several moments before Mike broke free first, tapped on Beau’s shoulder, and led them both outside. Once the door closed, Beau addressed him. “Dude, what the fuck,” Beau said in a rush. “That’s… one way to put it.” “How the fuck is this getting so complicated?” “You’re asking the wrong person, dude.” “No seriously - what is this? Some kind of cosmic joke?” Beau asked more rapidly. Mike looked Beau over and furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought, before grabbing his free hand and leading him back to the coffee shop they visited earlier. “Let’s get something to eat before we head back. We should still make it back by nine,” Mike looked back at Beau. “Besides, it looks like you could use a strong mint tea.” “Huh?” Beau paused for a moment before he snorted. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” Beau looked over the other boy, deeply grateful for his steady presence through the entire mess they were caught up in. Mike pulled him along before Beau picked up the pace to match his stride. “What about you? It must be pretty crazy for you too.” “I just need some time to think over that info dump before Saturday. That’s all.” Beau really hoped that was the case, for both their sakes.

5 - Sapphire Precipice (Ch 12)

“Wait.” Beau narrowed his eyes at Mike. “What were you thinking about just now? And don’t say ‘nothing’. Because I know something had your attention just now.” Ah… well, shit. This was awkward. Beau continued a bit sharply. “You have this subtle, far-off but focused look when your mind runs off. It’s hard to spot, but I noticed it after spending the month with you.” Of course he did. Beau was more observant than most people, with only a slight delay in reaching the conclusions Mike did. If anything, this was inevitable. Mike really should have known better. “I…” Mike faltered. “Honestly, given everything that’s happened so far, I doubt you’d faze me much.” Beau’s lips quirked slightly. “I mean, this is me we’re talking about…” Beau wasn’t wrong - he owed him the truth, considering the situation. Still, he’d have to watch himself closely going forward. “I…” Mike forced himself to continue. “I didn’t plan on hiding anything. I didn’t want to, really. It’s just that things kind of got out of hand, and somehow…” Beau’s face softened slightly. “I get it, dude - trust me, I really do. But at this point, we need everything on the table to make the most of today’s trip, right?” Of course he was right. Mike sighed and resolved himself. [...] “Would you have said anything, if I hadn’t asked just now?” “Yes. Later today, to be exact.” Mike met Beau’s eyes. He needed- no, wanted Beau to believe him at least on that count. [...] Beau paused, turned around, and gave him a smile. “Earlier, you said that part of why you kept quiet was because you were worried about me. That goes both ways, you know? So you’re not off the hook yet… but thanks. For helping me. For being around in general. I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted or handled any of this without you around… so yeah!” Beau finished before speeding off to the red sedan. How was Mike supposed to respond to that?

6 - Sangria Totality (Ch 13)

“You’re exactly as he described you,” Mina said as she met Mike’s eyes. “What?” Mike turned to Beau. “Hey, do you gossip about me during your little sauna sessions?” “Obviously not, you idiot. Why would I even do that?” Beau retorted. “She’s clearly talking about Edward.” “Huh? That makes even less sense! We barely even talk outside of AP Bio - what is there even to gossip about?” “Don’t ask me, dude,” Beau shrugged before considering him more thoughtfully. “Hmm… though now that I think about it, he has mentioned you quite a few times.” “Of course he has, dumbass. We’ve been bugging him this entire time about this mess of a mystery, and you’re the one who talks to him all the time outside of school.” Beau snorted. “Obviously that's true, but he also mentions you when-” A sudden burst of laughter interrupted them. The two boys turned to face the gold-eyed girl who was trying and failing to stifle her laughter and keep a straight face. “Sorry, sorry,” she said after calming down… though that smile never left her face. “He’s right about Edward, but that’s a completely different issue.” No? No it wasn’t? What the hell was going on this time? [...] “You didn’t talk to your dad after the bonfire last weekend, did you?” “Of course not!” Beau looked at Mike like he thought he was stupid. “What would I say to him? ‘Hey Dad, did you know that the Cullens are vampires and that magic is real and this strange mark showed up on my body? Of course I didn’t say anything to him!” Mike sighed. “At least your dad knows, so this won’t come out of the left field for him… but my family has absolutely no idea about any of this.” Mike turned back to Izumi and Mina. “That’s why I can’t stay here. I have to get back to Forks tonight.” “You don’t have to worry about that either,” Mina spoke up. “Charlie told your parents that you’d be staying with him and Beau in Seattle tonight and they seemed fine with it.” His parents went along with that story that easily? Hmm… to be fair, though, his parents had no reason to think that Chief Swan was covering for him - after all, Mike spent quite a few nights at the Swan residence over the past month. Besides, it wasn’t like Chief Swan lied about anything.

7 - Midnight Freefall (Ch 14)** [**this takes place in Prakriti: Nakshatra, Ch 6's prime/star phase]

“Err… the situation turned out okay in the end, but Beau got this tiny scratch near the mark. Don’t worry though - it was quite minor and Mina looked it over. He’s doing fine now, probably off doing his own thing in peace,” Mike concluded rather quickly. “That certainly explains a lot. I am relieved to hear that Beau is doing okay. However…” Carlisle took a few steps towards him and Mike would be lying if he said that his first instinct wasn’t to step back - though he held his ground in the end. “I believe I asked after you, Michael. Are you faring okay, or at least well enough at the moment?” Why was the doctor asking him that? [...] “You don’t know what’s going on, then?” “There are a lot of mystic phenomena out there and I could make a few educated guesses with enough time, but no. I do not know very much right now.” “You…” It was Mike’s turn to look away awkwardly. “You know you have to talk to Beau at some point, right? You say you don’t know much, but he knows even less than you do, so I’m sure he’d appreciate any information… considering the circumstances.” “Yes, I am aware,” Carlisle said with a somewhat resigned tone. “I will speak to him and do what I can to resolve the circumstances as quickly and efficiently as possible.” [...] He… he really knew nothing at all. It wasn’t just the lack of control, but also the lack of foresight to even look within himself. Just stumbling in the dark, thinking he’d made sense of the hand he’d been dealt, only to find out he’d been doing it all wrong - wasting his time and energy and whatever else until a few hours ago. And even then, it wasn’t Mike who initiated the breakthrough - it was Beau and his throwaway comment. ‘Because it’s harder to see things when you’re in the middle of the mess.' Beau said that to him, but it wasn’t like the other boy was distanced from the mess. Hell, he was right in the middle of it! Even deeper than Mike was! Yet Beau still had that presence of mind, that way of pointing Mike in the right direction and sending him off. Really, Mike was an idiot for not talking to him about the colors before that morning.

#my excerpts #beau swan #mike newton #bellisle #carlisle x beau #winter light #apricity #twilight #life and death #gay twilight #tag game #my tag games #mizuka's rambles #my writing #twilight fanfiction #twilight rewrite

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dark-magical-ships · 11 months

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Exodia, Obliterate the Fourth Wall!

Chapter Sixteen

November 1, 2009

FUCK. I OVERSLEPT. IT’S 5 IN THE EVENING AND I HAVEN’T DONE ANY OF MY SCHOOLWORK THIS WEEKEND.

PRAY FOR ME DIARY.

OKAY. Fuck. Okay. I checked my planner, and it looks like that Physics assignment I thought was due tomorrow isn’t actually due until Tuesday, so… I have a little more time than I thought to finish it. About the only things I had left to do were the review chapter for APUS, the fingerprint analysis homework for Forensics, and to finish reading Medea and write up an outline for the essay… normally I’d just write the essay and work backwards to make the outline, but since it’s almost midnight I decide to just throw down some bullet points for now and hope the actual essay looks vaguely related to the outline when I finish it. The fingerprints take a lot of time but aren’t hard; I got four of the six done tonight and I should be able to finish the other two tomorrow in English during lecture…. Thank god I’ve had Palmer before and he knows I’m just… not a note-taker.

Anyway. I’m not exactly caught up, but the review sheet for US and the outline are done and I have most of the day to get the last two fingerprint matches done before Forensics tomorrow, so I should be okay. NO THANKS TO KAIBA, by the way. Seto spent the whole friggin day nagging me about having spent yesterday on “nonsense.”

HALLOWEEN IS NOT NONSENSE. Wes and I watched movies and went out to escort the neighbor’s kid while trick-or-treating (which was really an excuse to go trick-or-treating ourselves, yeah, but we got MONEY as well as FREE CANDY so that was WORTH EVERY MINUTE, THANK YOU). And okay, yeah, so I went to bed at like 6am and slept… I guess like ten, eleven hours? But come on! It was the first time I’ve actually gotten to do anything fun with a weekend since school started.

Even as I’m writing this, Seto’s in my head like, «I don’t “nag.” All I did was point out that you wouldn’t have had this problem if you hadn’t spent last night partying.»

First of all, dude, that was not “partying.” If you think trick-or-treating with a ten-year-old and watching a Scooby Doo marathon is “partying,” I grieve for you. I do not “party,” but I know what the act entails, thank you.

Second, yes, you absolutely do “nag.” You’re doing it right now. Just because you don’t understand the sanctity of Halloween to the American teenager doesn’t mean you get to tell me off for staying out late like you’re my dad. Hell, even my dad doesn’t complain about curfew when it’s Halloween, especially on a weekend.

Ugh. Y’know what? I need to try and sleep anyway so I’m just going to go to bed, and then you’ll have to leave me alone. GOODNIGHT SETO.

#exodia obliterate the 4th wall!#amy writes #chapter 16

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kybabi · 3 years

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reacting to their s/o wearing another guy’s jacket

w/ sakusa, ushi, and osamu!

part 1!

series masterlist here!

(a/n: this prompt is completely inspired by @luvbub !! pls check them out oh my god i’m in love with their works sm😭)

sakusa

you really are the dumbest bitch in this place (ok but no really you are)

you should’ve checked the weather forecast this morning, but you didn’t, because your stupid ass forgot to

so now you’re stuck walking in the rain to school, wearing nothing but your uniform, and you’re cold as fuck

you find kiyoomi, and tug on his jacket, eyes wide in a plea

he side eyes you and looks back at his phone, shaking his head

“babe please?”

“ask for someone else’s, y/n”

he’s not really paying attention to you this morning, so you walk off and look to borrow someone else’s

LUCKILY, one of your classmates has an extra in his locker

it’s lunchtime, and you’re eating in your classroom today. the hoodie you’re wearing covers your hands, and you’re thankful it’s so big, because even with it on it’s freezing.

kiyoomi walks into your classroom and sits down next to you with his own lunch. he looks over to you to see you wearing your classmate’s jacket.

“i thought you said you didn’t bring a jacket today,” he mutters, opening his bento.

“oh, i didn’t. i borrowed it from a friend!” you respond, taking a bite from your lunch. he nods.

“he had an extra in his locker today, thank god. i’ll probably just return it to him tomorrow.”

sakusa pauses.

“he?” kiyoomi replies, turning to face you now.

“yeah, you probably don’t know him. can’t you tell? it’s pretty big on me,” you answer, pulling the sleeves to cover your fingers. the sweatshirt is much larger than you, swallowing you up in a bundle of warm, soft fabric, and sakusa has never been so jealous in his life.

he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the sight of you in another man’s clothing making him uneasy.

“you should wear mine. i don’t want you getting someone else’s germs on you,” he mumbles. that’s not the reason why he doesn’t want you wearing the jacket, but admitting it is the last thing he wants to do.

you wave him off. “babe, it’s just a jacket. he offered, so i took it! besides, i already asked you, and you said no,” you laugh, returning to your lunch.

you’re writing something down in your notebook, nose pressed flush against the hood of the jacket, breathing in and out ever so peacefully.

he exhales, frustrated.

“please?” he asks one last time, nudging you with his own hoodie. he refuses to look at you, intense frown etched on his face. you laugh at the sight.

“okayyy, fine,” you give in, taking the jacket and replacing the one you’re already wearing with his. you breathe in his scent and he sighs, relieved.

“much better.”

ushijima

you spent all of last night studying for your upcoming exam, so when you wake up in the morning, you realize you’ve overslept your alarm and school is about to start

when you finally get to school and settle down, you realize that it’s a lot colder than you anticipated

and on top of that, you were in such a rush that you forgot to grab a jacket

so during passing period, you find your boyfriend and ask if you could wear his for a bit to warm up

he looks down at you, confused

“why would i give you mine? then i wouldn’t have one. besides, it would be too big on you anyway.”

it’s not that he wants to be mean or anything, but he genuinely doesn’t understand why you would ask for his jacket

you sigh, disappointed, and tell him it’s okay

he wants to ask you what’s wrong, but you’re already gone

in your next period, one of your classmates, a nice guy who you’re well acquainted with, notices you’re cold and offers you his

toshi finds you at lunch, sitting down next to you and looking over to see what you’re reading.

“hey, baby.”

“hello, y/n. what are you reading?”

you explain to him that it’s a new manga you bought a few days ago. while you’re talking, he notices you’re wearing a jacket that you didn’t have before.

“where did this jacket come from?” he asks, interrupting you. you look down at it.

“oh, this? a friend gave me his! i’m feeling a lot better now,” you respond, snuggling into the fabric even further.

an unfamiliar feeling bubbles up in toshi’s chest at seeing you in another guy’s clothing. he’s close enough that he can smell an unusual, masculine scent on the fabric, and he decides he doesn’t like this feeling at all.

“i don’t like you wearing another man’s clothing. wear mine, instead,” he offers, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to you. you take it, looking up at him in confusion.

“but you said—”

“please, y/n. i would feel much better if you wore mine.”

you stare at him for a minute, and then laugh. your boyfriend can be quite a mystery sometimes. you take off the jacket and put his on over your frame.

“better?”

he stares at you, observing how it drapes over you. he likes it much better than the hoodie you were wearing before. he hums in approval, and scoots closer to you.

you press your face into his shoulder and giggle.

“are you jealous?” you tease.

he looks up to the sky, pondering the question pensively. he turns to look at you.

“yes. i do not like the idea of you wanting to wear someone’s clothing that isn’t me. it makes me feel uneasy that you would want that when i am already here with you.”

you should’ve expected such a straightforward answer from such a stoic man, but the bluntness still surprises you. the honest emotion in his statement makes you swoon, and you remember just why you fell in love with him.

“i’m so lucky, aren’t i?” you ask. a soft smile graces his lips.

“maybe. but not as much as i am.”

osamu

after finding out the weather was going to be cold today, you decided to bring a jacket to school

unfortunately, your favorite jacket was still at school after you’d put it in your locker during break the other day

you decide you’ll get it before school

sadly, when you arrive at your locker and open it, the sweatshirt is no where to be found, and in its place is a note

the note is from your best friend, saying she needed a jacket really quickly and yours was the only one she could find

you sigh, going to find your boyfriend to ask for his

“uhhhhhhhhhhhh by any chance would you be willing to give me this...?”

you tug on his hoodie

he raises an eyebrow, and you explain what happened

he laughs at you (rude ass bitch)

“babe, it’s not the end of the world. just ask for it back.”

the bell rings and you groan, frustrated

you walk into class, brightening when you see atsumu

osamu joins you for lunch as per usual, meeting you at the back of the library where you’re watching a video on youtube. he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling.

he stops short. the scent is familiar, but it’s not yours, and he pulls away. you turn to face him, startled by the sudden loss of contact.

“what’s wrong?”

he looks you up and down, and notices the hoodie draped over your form. then he realizes why it’s so familiar; it’s atsumu’s. he scowls, the sight offensive.

“why are you wearing atsumu’s hoodie?” osamu asks, annoyed.

you don’t understand why he’s asking, as he’s the one who didn’t want to give you his own jacket earlier today.

“uh. you didn’t wanna give me yours, and i was cold, so atsumu offered his?” you respond.

“huh? i told you to get your own, not borrow my brother’s?”

“well, i was cold, and he was the first person i saw today,” you explain. “are you mad at me or something?”

he sighs.

“of course not. i just don’t understand why you would go to him of all people.”

you laugh. “why not? you and ‘tsumu are the same size and you wear similar clothing. would it make you feel better if i wore yours instead?” you offer, nudging at his side.

but apparently osamu is feeling stubborn today, because instead of relenting and giving you his jacket, he scoffs and turns away.

you sigh. “alright, if that’s what you want,” you mutter, returning to your phone. it’s an adorable video of a cat and her kittens, and you snuggle into atsumu’s hoodie, the fabric warm from use, and giggle at your phone.

osamu is growing restless, and watching you all happy and warm in someone else’s clothing is not making him any more at ease. he watches you inhale atsumu’s scent, nose buried in the fabric, and he breaks.

he shoves his own hoodie at you wordlessly. there’s a very rare, petulant frown on his face and you’ve never seen him look so cute. you laugh and give in, pulling his jacket over your shoulders.

“god, you can stop clenching already,” you giggle, nosing at his collarbone affectionately. he sighs.

“you are the bane of my existence, you know that, right?” he mumbles.

“you love me.”

“yeah. i do.”

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witchesbe-like · 2 years

Photo

Living With Intention

When I first heard of living with intention I thought it was just some girl boss energy that I didn’t really want to participate in. I’m not a hustle wake up at 5 am person, so that never really works for me. I’m more of a lay in bed until 11 and I’m hungry enough to get coffee gtype person. So I initially just brushed it off as another lazy way businessmen are trying to hype up manifesting money. (That never really works mind you,) But then I learned that living with intention isn’t goal setting, it’s a lifestyle that adheres to what you want and how you can live your life to make it happen, in any way that you want. And no, you don’t have to get up at 5 am everyday to make it happen.

Intentions not goals

I HATE goals. Like deep hate for them. All that slander in the early days of hustle culture really hit a nerve because not everyone is built for that same energy. And I saw a lot of people feel really guilty when they failed simply because that system was not designed for them.

When I say we are all different, I mean it. Each member of my family has a different energy type. So when you have one recipe for goal getting, it’s not going to work for everyone in the room. And yes, some people will fail and it has nothing to do with how hard they tried or how much effort they put into it, despite what all the hustle gurus tell you.

Because it’s all about intentions NOT goals. You see, goals are little demons that crawl around making you feel guilty for stepping outside of your dream and doing something different just because you feel like it. Example 1: Oh you overslept, you didn’t get up at 4:30am and you missed your workout class now you are a failure forever. How is that mindset even healthy?!

Intentions are more simple and have a slower pace. Intentionally I want to someday live in an old Victorian house that we can fix up and make beautiful again. So I look up how to fix things and practice in my current home. I also read blogs on fixer-uppers and DIY everything I can in my house. This helps prepare me for the big dream. Intentions are not goals, but small steps you take to move forward with what you want. Can intentions change? Sure, I may never even move (LOL) or I may fall in love with a different style home. But does that mean I’m a failure? No, it means my intentions have changed and there’s room for that flexibility.

Intentions can be other things, like career choices, what you want to study in school or how you visualize your life. Let's say you want to someday be a salon owner. You can start living intentionally by researching salon ownerships, studying business or researching where you can get your cosmetology license. All of these things have the intention of someday being a salon owner. You can also do other things like enjoy your life, go out with your friends and work on your mental health. None of the other things take away from living with your intentions. It just means you are experiencing a full life.

Intentions are moving forward daily and taking small steps towards how you want to build your life, without all the drama that comes with goal setting. With intentions there's room for failure, flexibility, and changing your mind all while still manifesting the life you want.

How I live intentionally

Journaling

Journaling has always been a big way for me to sort out my feelings and I incorporate that into my intentional living. I know goal setting is all about writing your goals, and setting time frames but we are setting intentions here so let's scrap that. If you want to set intentions and use your journals, write how you feel. How you would feel walking into your salon (if that’s your goal) or what you feel like researching or doing in the next month to live in your intention. If you manifested life includes owning a salon, maybe you want to look up cosmetology schools in your area, or maybe you want to do something fun like practice doing your own hair. Either Way make sure it’s bringing you energy and lots of happiness when you’re doing it. Intentions should never feel like work or a chore, they should feel fun and full of invigorating energy.

Making a mood board or collage

Start by clipping images, having a dedicated Pinterest board or just using Tumblr to get an aesthetic of how you see yourself in the future. If you’re owning a salon in your future you can imagine how it would look on the inside, maybe pick a logo or color palette or make business cards for fun on Canva. Remember it doesn’t have to be stressful or complete. Just fun ways you envision yourself living the life you want.

I like to categorize everything to make it easier for me, so I might have several folders on my laptop with pictures of things I’ve gathered over the years. My folders are categorized in things like, family, home, career, money etc. That way I can see each board individually and play around with the images I find online. Sometimes I print them out, sometimes I don’t.

The important part of making a board or collage is to help visualize how you see yourself in the future. If you want to go to a specific school or live in a certain state, start compiling images in that space and picture yourself there. Use full sensory visualization. How does it feel? What is your day like? Remember visualization makes reality because our thoughts are things.

Using spells

Spellwork is a great way to move forward with your intentions and can be the magical boost you need. Want to get a certain job? Maybe as your first step towards a new career? Before you interview, do a spell to set up that energy up for success. You can continue to use spellwork throughout your life to manifest your needs step-by-step and create a mindset where you are attracting what you want.

It helps to break down your intentions into digestible parts and start with the first step. Each time you move towards another step in your journey see if you can incorporate spellwork into your manifestation. Each little jump forward is you moving closer to the life you want and more importantly living your truth.

Art on this post was created by Obsidian Odyssey! Thank you for collabing with me and creating the art for this post. Check out her witchy blog! Also she’s an AMAZING artist and has a free coven you can join!

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libraryofnesta · 3 years

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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falcqns · 3 years

Text

partner in crime lll

pairing: dad!august walker x daughter!ofc

summary: Maeve joins August at work, and he find out a little more about his daughter, which in turn reveals her mothers fate.

warnings: Angst!!! graphic depictions of death, violence towards and infant mentioned but no detail, mentions of sexual assault. 18+ ONLY.

a/n: if I missed anything in the warnings, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I hope you enjoy!

August was awoken a few hours later by his daughter screaming like someone was hurting her.

August shot up, and immediately sprung into action, looking around the room for the source of his daughter's distress, but found nothing. The only thing he saw was the little baby in her crib, wailing. Her chubby little hand was reaching out towards August, and she was screaming ‘mama.’

August took a deep breath, and scooped her up. He held her against his chest, and rocked her back and forth like he had seen Sloane do once with a little boy they had found at a crime scene.

“What happened?” He asked in the softest voice he could muster, but she only cried harder. Her hands became fists in his sleep shirt, and her tears soaked the cotton material as well. He rubbed her back, and offered her her pacifier. She took it, and her cries quieted, but didn’t cease. He tried to lay her back down, but decided against it, when she screamed again.

He sighed, and laid down with her in the bed. She settled on his chest, and he found himself enamoured by the pools of blue that were her eyes. He was able to see little specks of brown floating near her pupil. She lifted a hand, and placed it on his mouth, her middle two fingers burying themselves into his mustache hairs. August was unsure what to do, so he tried something. He kissed her hand.

Maeve smiled so big that her pacifier fell from her lips, and then she lifted her head.

“Mama?” She asked tentatively, and August paled. How do you tell a 7 month old that they can't have their Mama because she’s dead? August opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unsure what to say.

He saw her bottom lip wobble, and tears well up in her eyes. August noticed a flash of recognition behind her eyes, and she began to wail again, screaming as if she had a gun pointed to her.

Actually, as he thought about it, he realized that's the exact reaction that little boy had, the one that Sloane had held, when he had a gun pointed to his head by his parents' attacker. His heart dropped into his stomach, and made a mental note to check how exactly Maeve’s mother had died.

He pulled Maeve close to his body, and ran his hand up and down her back, occasionally traveling up to play with her soft curls.

Not long after, she settled down, and fell back asleep. August however didn’t.

Sure, it could have been a coincidence that she had the same reaction, but August didn't think it was. He grabbed his phone from where it laid atop the charger, and googled ‘PTSD symptoms in babies’.

Hypervigilance, separation anxiety, clinginess, emotional trauma when reminded of original trauma, fear or avoidance of places that remind them of event, troubles sleeping, nightmares and repetitive play were a few of the symptoms. Maeve didn’t have all of them, but he could only assume she had a nightmare, and the flash of recognition must be her remembering what happened. Was her mother killed in front of her?

The thought made August sick to his stomach, and decided to put his phone away, in favour of keeping the sleeping baby in his arms, 1) asleep, and 2), safe.

August's eyes opened, and instead of dead silence, he was greeted by his daughter babbling, and his phone ringing.

He glanced at his daughter, who was playing with one of his hands, and used his free hand to grab his phone. He saw it was Sloane calling, and swore mentally when he saw that it was 9 am, meaning he was over two hours late for work.

He answered the phone, and Sloane immediately asked where he was, and why he was late.

“I apologize. I got Maeve yesterday and she had a rough night. I overslept, but i’ll be there in less than an hour.” He assured her, and hung up.

He watched as Maeve weaved her fingers with his, and held his hand. He smiled slightly, and curled his fingers in the same way, grasping her tiny hand in his. She squealed in happiness, and August could have cried at the sweet sound.

He pushed the thought away, and pressed a kiss to her curly head before removing his hand from her grasp, and stood up.

��I have to go to work, and you’ll have to come with me. We’ll stop at the store on the way there, and get you a new outfit for you to wear. You need some new clothes.” August said, as he grabbed a diaper from the box that he had delivered yesterday. He changed her diaper, and pulled her pyjama pants back up before scooping her and her stuffy up, and placing her in the crib.

Or, tried to at least. The second he tried to set her in there, she screamed again, like she had last night.

He knew, in that moment, that whatever caused her mother to die, happened right in front of her.

He felt anger boiling up in his body, but not at Maeve. Never at Maeve. He felt a surge of love and protection over her, and he knew his first task of being her dad was to find out what happened to her mom and figure out how to help his little girl.

August had made it out of the apartment, to Walmart, and to his office, all under an hour. He had no idea how, but he had managed it. He swore he saw a smile on Sloane’s face when he walked past her office with Maeve on his hip, but couldn't be sure.

He entered his office, and had no idea where to put her. He had weapons hid all over, and didn't want her getting hurt. He couldn't put her in a crib or a playpen, she obviously had a trauma response to that. His only options were his lap, where he knew she wouldn't stay put, and underneath the desk, which seemed like the best option until he could figure something out.

He placed her under his desk, and handed her the toys he brought with him. She gurgled as she was handed her stuffy. August smiled, and got to work.

He pulled Maeve’s file out of his briefcase, and consulted it for her mothers name.

Adriana Amiens.

He barely remembered her. He glanced down at Maeve, and felt regret course through his veins as he realized if he hadn’t been so down on himself and selfish after the mission, he could have experienced everything, and could have stopped what happened to Adriana.

He went onto the CIA database, and typed in her name. Only one result came up, and he clicked on it.

August could have vomited at what appeared.

There were several pictures of the crime scene, and the actual crime. Adriana had been tied up, and the initials MA had been carved into her stomach, just above a small scar where her uterus was located. His eyebrows furrowed, and glanced at her file. His eyes found the word cesarean section, and all his questions were answered about that.

He moved the mouse over the picture, and a link popped up, attached to the scar. A link attached to the picture wasn't unusual, the database automatically linked relevant information to the pictures, so he clicked on it.

A wiki page popped up. There wasn't a lot of information, but he did note the last name. Amiens, first name Charles.

August read further. This man, named Charles Amiens, nicknamed Master, was apparently Adriana’s father. He belonged to a gang aptly named ‘The Amiens Family’. August had heard of them before. They specialized in arms dealing and murder for hire. Charles himself seemed to be responsible for over 1500 deaths in the Los Angeles area over the last 50 years, something that scared August.

August scrolled further, and found that Adriana was listed as his daughter, although there was the word ‘emancipated’ in parenthesis. August took note of the reason for emancipation being listed as ‘family differences’. August guessed that meant that Adriana wanted no part in the family business. Anais had mentioned in the original phone call that she and her family were very different, and to be wary of him, but he had no idea why, until he received the file later that day.

August clicked through the rest of the photos, his stomach churning as he looked at what the murderers had done to the poor girls body. She had bruises all over her body. She had two black eyes, a broken nose, and there was evidence of sexual assault and severe trauma to her privates.

However, the last photo is what made August throw up.

The murderers had placed Maeve, who didn't look any younger than she did now, in a crib. More specifically, they restrained her to it. There were chains attached to her wrists, bringing them straight out from her body, and attached to the crib.

The next few photos were screenshots from the security footage, and he had to shut off his computer immediately.

They had indeed pointed a gun in his daughters face.

He wanted to throw up, but also murder someone just for hurting his child like that. He felt a tear slip down his cheek, and immediately reached down for the little girl under the desk. He lifted her onto his desk, and took a good look at her arms.

He noticed that she had faint scars around her wrists, that he knew was from restraints. He stood up and took her to the bathroom. He stripped her from her outfit, except her diaper. He checked her entire body, and was thankful when he saw no other evidence of any harm on his daughters smooth skin.

He hugged her to his chest, and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you. I promise.” She yawned in response, and August knew she was getting tired. He carried her back to his office, and by the time he had settled in his chair, she was asleep on his chest. He held her there, protecting her. He knew she wouldn’t sleep well unless she was in his arms, safe.

By the time August made it home that night, Maeve was miserable. She was exhausted, hungry, and in desperate need of a bath. He had no idea what to do with the crib situation, as it was very clear she wouldn't be able to sleep in there, and August wasn't going to force her.

He’d done some research on his lunch break, and found an alternative to the bed situation, but it wouldn’t arrive for another few days, so it looked like he’d be bed sharing until then. He wanted to get the crib out of his room, but that would entail either waiting until Maeve was asleep, or risk her seeing it and being thrown into a PTSD induced meltdown. She hadn't been diagnosed, but he recognized the symptoms. Not all missions went to plan.

Besides, he planned on getting her into a child psychiatrist as soon as possible to get her diagnosed and help her heal. He didn't want her childhood affected by this, and it was highly unlikely he’d ever tell her what truly happened to her mother.

He placed the diaper bag, his briefcase, and their dinner down on the counter before rocking her back and forth in his arms to soothe her to sleep. It didn't help that she kept crying out for her mama, the one thing August couldn't provide.

“I promise you, my sweet angel, that i will find out what happened to your mama and make sure that you never have to feel the pain you're feeling right now EVER again.” August said, tears flowing freely as his daughter wailed for her dead mother. Her dead mother that was killed in front of her.

A few minutes later, Maeve’s cries melted into whimpers, which bled into soft breaths escaping her lips. August smiled at her, and laid her down on the bed as he had done yesterday, before taking the crib out of the bedroom. He decided to hide it in the laundry room until he could sell it, because she wasn’t allowed in there.

He had managed to wheel it out into the kitchen area, and he took pictures of it. He posted them on facebook, with a price tag of $50. It was originally $270, but he wanted it gone as soon as possible. Maeve had been through enough already.

He’d gotten an offer from a lady less than an hour later, offering $100 for it, so he took that opportunity. An hour after that, the crib was gone, he was $100 richer, and Maeve was still sound asleep.

Next, he put an offer in for an apartment, and got it. He was just signing the contract as he heard Maeve waking up. He quickly finished signing his name and sending it in before going to find his baby girl.

She smiled and clapped as August walked into the room, and he gave her a smile back. “Good nap?” he asked, and she nodded and giggled. August gave her some Cheerios after she was placed in the highchair.

He warmed up the food, before giving her her plate, which she ate enthusiastically. He ate his food, and listened to Maeve babble and point to the front door. He looked out the door and saw another father walking with his son. “You wanna go for a walk?” He asked, and Maeve nodded.

August chuckled, and cleaned up. He wiped her down, and minutes later she was in the stroller and they were on their way out the door.

They made a few laps around the block, Maeve laughing and pointing at everything she saw, almost as if she was rarely outside. He made a mental note to check her file once more. Maybe there was something more to that.

They made one more lap around the block, and headed back to the apartment. He made a short pitstop at the leasing office to give his move out notice, and Maeve was asleep again by the time he made it back up to his unit.

Over the next week, August and Maeve prepared to move. August finally got Maeve on a relatively good schedule, and had the majority of her triggers figured out. Cribs, playpens, handcuffs (an unfortunate incident happened when she had gotten into his bedside drawer and found some fluffy handcuffs for some rather adult activites, and screamed bloody murder while August was prepping her bath. He also had to learn to hide his gun when he was in the office, and remind his coworkers to keep them out of sight when she was around because the sight of those also sent her into a melt down, further angering August, and making him more determined to find the people who did this to her.

Today was moving day, and August was nervous. He didn’t know how well Maeve would take the transition, but he reminded himself that she had been having a lot of abrupt transitions over the past few weeks, so whatever happened, he would deal with.

August woke her up, and carried her into the almost empty kitchen, where he sat her down into the highchair, and gave her her morning bottle and some oatmeal. August ate a protein bar, and looked around at his old apartment to see what still had to be taken to the moving truck that was still downstairs, and found it was only his mattress, and her highchair. sohosebHe had taken all of the furniture yesterday, including his bed frame.

Maeve finished up a few minutes later, and he strapped her into the baby carrier he got when he began to pack, as it was the only way he’d get any work done.

Once she was strapped in and her stuffy was secure in her hand, August rolled the highchair out of the apartment. Once it was secure in the moving truck, he went back to the apartment for the mattress. Maeve was having a fun time of smacking her hands on it while August looked around the apartment for the last time. He’d never thought he’d leave this place, but when he met Maeve, he knew his life was changing for the better.

He never thought that he’d make a good father, but here he was. He had a wonderful little girl, and even though he was raising her on his own, he knew he could do it. As long as she grew up better than he did, he knew he was doing something right.

“Take a look around, Maeve. This was yours and Dada’s first home together.” He said, a smile forming on his face as he called himself Dada for the first time.

taglist:

@kpopgirlbtssvt @nerdypinupcrystal @sohoseb @bieberhoodforever

#august walker #henry cavill x you #august walker x you #august walker x ofc #august walker x reader #august walker x y/n #august walker x female reader #august walker fluff #august walker angst #daddy!august walker

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kelieah · 4 years

Text

surprise (peter parker x stark!reader)

summary: you give peter a gift he would have never expected to receive from you

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, fluff, language

edited: sorry this is super late :(

a/n: hehe, happy bday to the cutest puppy of all! thank you to everyone who helped me come up with ideas for this fic, ily all 3000

masterlist

You and Peter have been dating for almost a year now. You both decided to get together after all the chaos that took place in Europe. You two have been friends for quite a while before that, so the fact that your friendship with Peter flourished into something even better is one of the many reasons why you adore him.

His birthday is tomorrow and you wish to make it as special as it can be. Though you’re not exactly sure how to do that. You know your dad would’ve easily bought something tremendously big and written a cheesy yet short letter with it, and Peter would love it. But if you did the same, it wouldn’t be right. Right?

The night before his birthday, you were in a spiral. You had already planned a surprise party for him at his apartment though that was the least of your worries. You were pacing around your room, unsure if the gifts you’ve been preparing for weeks was enough or if you should add more things.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him and the months you’ve been dating him, you put together memories and experiences all in a scrapbook. It looked cute and simple on the outside, but once you opened it up, the pages were filled with photos, letters, doodles, and colors. Many references or inside jokes were scattered along the side margins and stickers were put accordingly. You made sure it was perfect, but your gift still felt incomplete to you.

You wanted to be extra. You had to be extra. You remember your mom saying it was something you got from your dad. That man was always one for his dramatics. So you stayed up a bit later than you should’ve, making tiny little paper stars with sweet compliments, affirmations, and advice in them. Then you made as many as you can to fill up a glass jar shaped like R2-D2.

Though to you, that still wasn’t enough. So you searched and searched and eventually found some vintage Star-Wars comics. Ignoring the fact that they were over a thousand bucks, you bought a dozen or so. His gifts were spread across your bed and you stared at it for what felt like hours.

Is this enough? Is this too much? Will he love it? Will he even like it? Shit.

You remember wanting to sleep and putting it all aside to figure out in the morning. You might’ve forgotten his birthday was the next day with how much you focused on the gifts than the actual date, so you woke up with panic.

You also remembered there was one last thing you wanted to get for Peter but once you glanced at the clock, it was already noon. You overslept.

You feel your heart drop immediately realizing that you weren’t able to text or call Peter a happy birthday or good morning. You assume he must be worried, or hurt or maybe upset? You place your face in your hands and fall into deep thought. Then it hit you, the surprise party is in three hours.

“Morning Friday, read my text messages and voicemails please,” you groggily lean against your bed rest.

“Are you sure, Y/n? You have 243 text messages and 94 voicemails,” Friday informs you.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Uhm, actually just read the ones from Mom, Peter, Aunt May, and Happy please,” you mutter.

“Understood,” Friday responds, beginning to go through your messages and voicemails, “Mom has messaged you, “Morning honey. Had to go to some meetings. Nanny is leaving at 1, please watch Morgan. I’ll meet you at the party. Could you bring Morgan with you when you go?” Peter has not messaged or called you. Aunt May has messaged you, “Hi dear! I’ve already baked up some cherry pies for the party, when are you going to be over to decorate? By the way, Peter went out and is probably patrolling,” with a smiley face and heart. Happy has messaged you, “Hello, I already ordered the catering, and went over the invite list. Are you up yet?” and he also left the voicemail saying, “Hopefully you’re up by the time you get this. Most of the Avengers are coming, except Thor, the Saviors, no wait, the Guardians of whatever they’re called, and Captain Marvel. I’m sure you could figure out why. Give me a call when you’re up.” Done.”

“Shit,” you whine loudly. You throw yourself out of bed and get to your morning routine. You quickly tidy up your room, take a quick shower, go through your skincare routine and get dressed up. You decided to put on some makeup and wear nicer clothes for once given it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

You look around your room and inhale deeply, “Just that one last thing,” you remind yourself and walk off. After getting what you need, the nanny informs you that she’s leaving. You walk over to Morgan’s room and knock the door before entering, “Hi princess, you ready for Spider-Man’s birthday?”

She turns around, all dressed up in a pretty floral dress, “Hi sissy, yes! Don’t you mean, your friend boy?” she giggles, running up to you.

You roll your eyes playfully, “You mean boyfriend? Yes, c’mon pretty girl. We’re going to go now.”

An hour or so later, you’re making your way over to Aunt May and Peter’s apartment with Morgan in the backseat. You felt bad for not greeting Peter at all today but you decided to make it a part of the surprise. “He still has a tracker in his suit!?” you burst out in laughter as you stop at a red light.

“Seems like Tony didn’t get rid of it before, I don’t blame him,” Happy mutters. “You got everything right? Morgan, Peter’s gifts, the decorations, and your head?”

“Yes Happy,” you glance into your back seat, checking in on Morgan and seeing the piled clutter. “I feel like Santa Clause with a bunch of gifts and an elf in the backseat,” you chuckle. Morgan gasps and makes a silly expression at you that brings a smile to your face.

“Maybe you are with all the cookies you eat,” he jokes.

“You’re one to talk, anyway where’s Peter now?” you ask as you drive off as soon as the light turns green.

“He’s swinging around, I saw the news. He’s interacting with fans and interviewers, a pretty rare case.”

“True, he must be trying to distract himself. Am I the only one who hasn’t greeted him yet?” you ask, nervously biting on your bottom lip.

“Yep.”

“Shoot, well I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Let’s hope so, I’ll see you and Morgan when you both get here. Gotta help May out with the pies.”

“Sure, the pies,” you tease, causing Happy to roll his eyes and end the call.

You feel your heart stop as Peter suddenly gives you a call. You fight the urge to pick up and shower him in reassurance and love, but ignore for the sake of the surprise.

Ten to twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrive at May and Peter’s apartment. You smile and knock on the door, struggling to hold everything in your arms while holding Morgan’s hand.

“Hello hello, you two,” Aunt May opens the door with a bright smile on her face. She lets you in and helps you out, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I overslept. I wasn’t sure if my gifts were enough,” you pout and kiss her cheek.

“That’s okay. Morgan baby, Happy’s in the kitchen.” May smiles and ruffles Morgan’s hair. Morgan hums and hugs her leg, running off.

“These are all your gifts for him? Sweetheart, it’s his birthday not Christmas,” she giggles. “I’m sure he would love anything you get for him, even if it was a cheap lego set.”

“I know I know, it’s just Peter has been through so much. I feel like he deserves the world,” you say bashfully.

“You’re so cute,” she hums and helps you place the many gifts on a certain table. “Remember, you have been through a lot too.”

“Yes, but today’s his day,” you cross your arms. “Anyway, enough chatter. We should decorate now, everyone’s coming over in an hour right?”

“Yep. I also told Peter to swing around for a while and bring Thai food home at 4. He thinks it’s just going to be him, Happy and I. I told him you have work,” she says, grabbing some decorations.

“Okay, perfect. I feel so bad, I haven’t communicated with him since last morning,” you huff and grab some streamers.

“I’m sure he understands, kid gets busy too,” Happy walks over from the kitchen with Morgan trailing behind him. “Man, are these all your gifts for him?” he glances over at a table filled with only your gifts.

“Y-Yes? Why is that such a bad thing,” you groan.

“It’s not, I think,” he glances at May who gives him a look. He puts his hands up in defense and slowly walks back into the kitchen.

“You’re fine, honey. Also, I love your dress, isn’t that?” she tilts her head.

“Yeah, it’s the dress I was wearing on our first date,” you smile to yourself, glancing down at your cherry red dress. It fit perfectly, not too loose or tight and it had pockets. Something you and Peter were always amused by.

After the three of you finish decorating, the guests begin to arrive. Most of the team showed up and you and Peter’s close friends. You let out a sigh of relief and lean on the fire escape railing, looking out at the city. You glance at your watch, “Almost time.”

“Hey there,” you hear from behind you. You look back and see Happy.

“Hey.”

“You doing alright? Peter’s coming soon,” he says and walks next to you, leaning against the railing.

“I know, I just feel like. I did too much? Too less? I’m not sure, I just wanted this day to be perfect for him especially after last year,” you mutter and glance at Happy with teary eyes.

He smiles sadly and pulls you into a hug, “It’s absolutely perfect. You know, Peter isn’t going to be the only one who’s proud.”

“Who else? You?”

“Well, besides me and a bunch of other people. Your dad,” he murmurs.

You feel your heart tighten and you stifle a cry, stuffing your head into his chest. He sighs and hugs you close, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Sometimes I feel like he never left, because everyday I see him in you,” he pulls away, holding your shoulder.

You smile softly and nod, “T-Thank you, Happy really,” you sniffle.

“Of course. You should probably tidy up, your makeup’s running,” he takes a step back.

You laugh half-heartedly, “Alright. Could you tell everyone to get in their places?” you begin to walk towards the apartment.

“Got it,” he nods and follows you back inside.

Your heart was racing, everyone wasn’t sure if he was going to show up at the front door or his room. Happy gives the signal that he’s arrived and everyone goes silent. You feel a slight sense of relief when you hear noises from the front door. If he came through his room, he probably wouldn't be that surprised.

Peter sighs and holds the bag of Thai food in one hand, opening up the door with a key in the other. His senses have been all over the place today and his heart didn’t feel like it was in the right place. He was beyond worried about you, he didn’t even care that it was his birthday. He just wanted to know if you were okay.

He opens the door, calling out for May. “May, I’m home-”

“Surprise!” Everyone appears out from their spots, greeting Peter with bright smiles and confetti.

Peter instantly jumps and places a hand over his heart. “G-Guys!? Bruce? Scott? Wait, Ned? MJ!?” he stammers, looking all over the place.

“Happy birthday, Spidey,” you come out of your hiding spot, smiling warmly at him.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” he breathes out and rushes over to you, pulling you into a hug. You let out a gasp as he picks you up and spins you around. He places you down and hugs you closer. He pulls away and glances at your dress then at you, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he sighs, kissing your cheek.

You blush at his comment and fiddle with your dress. “Thank you,” you smile, hoping he notices your outfit.

“Wait, isn’t this the dress from our first date?” he holds some of your dress and glances at you. You grin and nod, he sighs happily and pulls you back into a hug.

Everyone reacts sweetly until Flash, who was surprisingly invited yells out, “Get a room!” Everyone instantly glares at him and he shrivels up, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes and Peter ignores him, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought you were mad at me or something, or hurt, or just forgot about me,” he rambles, holding your face.

“Well, luckily none of those are the cases. I just wanted to surprise you,” you hum.

“You planned all this?” he gapes, glancing around his apartment once again.

“Yes, but I had a lot of help,” you hum.

“Friend boy!” Morgan squeals and rushes over, hugging you and Peter’s legs. “Happy birthday,” she beams.

Peter’s eyes soften and his bends down, “Thank you cutie,” he grins.

She squeals and hugs him, “Can you be my friend boy?”

You gasp dramatically, “Morgan, he’s my friend boy.”

“I don’t know babe, Morgan looks amazing in her little princess dress,” he picks up Morgan, holding her close.

You pout and cross your arms. Morgan bubbles happily and wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

To say Peter was overwhelmed with happiness was an understatement. He felt relief, appreciation, love and support. This whole time he was worrying that he had done something wrong when really nothing was wrong and everyone was just hiding and being quiet for his surprise.

After catching up with some of the Avengers and friends and eating dinner all together, it was time for cake and presents.

You couldn’t express how unbelievably happy and emotional you felt for Peter as he stood in front of his cake as everyone sang Happy Birthday to him. His face was filled with pure joy and you wish that could stay on his face forever, because to you, that’s what he deserves and more.

Not much later present time begins and Peter starts to open up everyone’s gifts. You told him to open yours last. You absolutely adored this boy and your heart swelled up every time he held a genuine smile to his face as he opened his gifts. He got up, thanked and hugged every single person who had got him a gift. You truly are smitten for him.

“Who are all these gifts from?” Peter asks, glancing at the huge piles of gifts left. “I thought I had opened everyone’s except Y/n’s already,” he chuckles.

“Those are all mine,” you walk over, sitting next to him.

“Oh, flower,” he mutters softly and pouts out his bottom lip. “You didn’t-”

“Ah, please open them and shut your mouth,” you cross your arms. Everyone laughs in amusement at your sass and watches as Peter begins to open up the gifts.

Peter first opens up the comic books and jars filled with little letters, “Oh my god, you didn’t,” he whimpers happily. “This must’ve cost a fortune,” he holds up the comic books.

“What? All I did was write on little pieces of paper and-”

“Babe.”

“I know! I’m joking, on to the next please,” you coo and kiss his cheek.

He huffs and unravels the next gift, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. He slowly flips through the pages of the beautiful scrap book you made for him. He comes across a page where it was you, your dad and him in multiple photos. He lets tears slip form his eyes and glances at you with softened eyes, “Y/n,” he mutters.

“Larb you,” you kiss his cheek. He places the scrapbook aside and pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

“I larb you more,” he sighs.

“I thought that was our thing,” May pouts, causing everyone to chuckle at her comment.

“It can be our thing too,” Peter teases. “Is that all?” he sniffles, glancing back at you.

“One more thing,” you smile cheekily.

“Oh man,” he sighs, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Morgan,” you look up, running your hands through Peter’s curls. She grins and grabs the last small box, bringing it to Peter.

He looks up and smiles, silently thanking her. “You want to help me open it?” he asks her. She nods and sits on his lap, helping him pull away the ribbon. As they both do so, the box falls and reveals the gift your mom once gifted your dad, then to you. Peter covers his mouth, “No, I can’t-”

“Peter,” you shake your head.

He sniffs once again, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks as he glances at the glass case with your dad’s arc reactor inside. He glances down at the words surrounding the arc reactor, “Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart,” he sobs.

You glance up seeing that your mom smiles sadly, wiping away some tears. “Happy birthday,” you repeat, kissing his cheek.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he stammers, hugging Morgan back as she hugs him close, nuzzling her head into his neck.

“Mom, Morgan and I already have many parts of dad with us. You don’t have as much and we all know how much he meant to you. You really are a part of our family too Peter, and I felt like you deserved this. Now you can see that his heart also belongs with you,” you smile warmly, cupping his cheek and wiping his tears away.

Everyone watches the heart-touching moment unravel, a sad yet understanding smile appearing on their faces. “I love you. I love all of you, and you,” he pokes Morgan’s nose, causing her to giggle.

“We love you too Peter,” everyone chimes in.

“I love you more,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“I love you 3000,” Morgan pouts, playing with his shirt. You and Peter look at each other with sad smiles.

“I love you 3000 too.”

tagging some mutuals who might be interested! @ariistotles @cosmicholland @petersholland @tonguetiedholland @theamazingtomholland @tombrina @spideyyeet @toms-gf @peterspideysstuff @chloecreatesfictions @mcdwcman @hollandsrecs @the-salty-asian @fallinfortom @hermayone @allegra-writes @waitimcomingtoo @futuremrspcy @dreamofaprilsblog @t-lostinmendes @musicalkeys @icyhollands @beverlyparkerr @marvelhoesworld

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obey-me-fics-n-shit · 4 years

Note

what do you think would be the most embarrassing things the brothers could do in front of mc? and how might they/mc react?

Huh, this one’ll be interesting. It took me awhile longer than I wanted it to, but here it is :D

Embarrassing things the Obey me! Brothers would do in front of mc

Lucifer:

The most embarrassing thing for Lucifer would be anything that tarnishes mc’s opinion of him. He’s the avatar of pride, so his image is everything to him. If some lower demon were to talk to you about all the less-than-savory things he did during (or even after) the war and his fall, telling you “how brave you are for living with the big and scary Lucifer (and his brothers)” Lucifer would be beyond upset. He’d probably want to get angry and make that lower demon pay, but he would hate to prove their point.

He’s been very careful in making sure that the worst thing you think of him is that he’s strict and has a bit of a temper. On the other hand, he doesnt mind as much if you know some of the nicer side of him, but if Diavolo gets talking about some things he’s seen Lucifer do that are ‘too cute’ he will also be embarrassed. Best case scenario in both situations is just to laugh it off and say something like “haha, not the Lucifer I know.” And let it be, it would crush the poor guy if you were frightened of him for any reason.

Mammon:

Mammon gets embarrassed so easy you could do it without trying (and you have) but the absolute worst thing that could happen would be if those witches he made pacts with ordered him around while he was trying to spend quality time with you, or even worse if they ran into you and him on a day out and ordered him around in front of you. In any case where that is to happen the best way to ease his embarrassment would be to get right back to what you were doing before. when he gets back to you, a quick insult thrown the witches way and a peck on his cheek is a sure fire way to help him feel better quickly.

If it was a rough day beforehand and this happens, he’ll need some extra re-asssurance, because the witches interruption with be the cherry on top that ticks him off. To help him in this case you’ll probably need to sit down with him for a second somewhere and reassure him that you understand that when it comes to those witches somethings are out of his control. He’ll grumble and say something along the lines of “nothings out of control for the great mammon,” but after a pause he’ll thank you for being so good to him and then you can go about your day.

Asmodeus:

Asmo has just about zero shame, getting this boy embarrassed is next to impossible, so when you do see him embarrassed it’ll probably be quite a shock to you. It probably happens when Asmo takes you to Majolish and an old flame of his who he left high and dry tries to warn you against perusing a relationship with Asmo while he’s in a changing room. Asmo comes out to model the new outfit he’s trying for you, only to see you practically cornered by that pesky ex of his. Asmo also has the pleasure of hearing you tell them to “piss off asshole” before you turn to see Asmo in his new outfit.

Asmo isn’t so embarrassed that someone he was intimate with found you gave you a talk, it was bound to happen anyway, what Asmo is embarrassed about is how he wasn’t there to help you. He’s also flattered that you stood up for yourself (and him) but it’s also part of what embarrassed him. He knew how you felt about him but this was the first time it really hit him. For the first time in a long time, his relationship wasn’t purely physical. Asmo immediately takes off whatever he tried on, leaves Majolish without buying anything and he’ll spend the rest of the day showering you with affections and letting you know how thankful he is for you.

Satan:

What gets Satan embarrassed in front of mc is when he loses his temper. It happens on a nice day around the House of Lamentation, when Satan has found out that Mammon sold one of his prized first-edition books for some quick cash. Satan had planned to spend a nice afternoon reading it with you but when he couldn’t find it he called a house-wide search for the thing and eventually Mammon got so fed up with the guilt he told Satan. Needless to say Satan blew his lid. Not in a normal ‘I’m so angry get out of my sight in 3..2..1...” kinda-way, but in a “I’m gonnna rip to shreds before you can even make it to the doorway” angry

you’d been told his anger was frightening, but you’d never seen it this bad, Satan had a moment and he saw you out of the corner of his eye and immediately regretted getting angry in front of you. It’s common knowledge that he’s gotten better at controlling his temper but he also promised himself not to get angry in front of you. He’ll go back to his room to calm down. Give him about three minutes before going in there, you don’t have to say anything he’s great full enough to have your company. Once he’s had a good while to gather himself he’ll apologize and its best to give him a reminder that everyone gets angry sometimes, that venting a little is healthy and you’re there for him. I promise you he will be so touched he’ll damn near cry

Leviathan:

Pretty similar to Mammon it’s not hard to embarrass this poor guy. It’ll probably happen when he gets a new package from Akuzon and one of the brothers (probably Mammon) gets the package first and opens it in front of Levi and you at the breakfast table. Now having one of his games opened itsn’t all that bad, but its a dating sim and one look at the main character makes it pretty obvious that they’re a dead ringer for you. Mammon will let out a roaring laughter and shove the game over to Asmo and Satan, who take turns loudly debating wether or not Levi bought the game because the main character looked like you, or if Levi’s dating you because you look like main character. Obviously this is mortifying for Levi, who snatches the game out of Asmo’s hand and rushes off muttering about how he should’ve known better than to let someone else get the mail this morning.

You should let Levi have a good half-hour before checking up on him. Quietly slipping into his room with a bowl of popcorn you can sit down next to him and ask if he’s started playing his new game yet. “Why do you want to know?” Levi’s gonna ask accusingly, letting him know you wanna spend time with him no matter what his brothers say about him and his game, will make him blush like crazy. The absolute best way to get him to forget all about breakfast though would be to ask him if you could stay and watch while he played. (Bonus points if you use watching him play a dating game as a way to give him pointers on wooing you)

Beelzebub:

Beel is too big, too soft, too precious to be embarrassed about anything. Or at least that’s what you thought, but when he caught sight of you in the stands he couldn’t help the blush that formed, his team noticed. Soon enough they started giving him little “oohs” and “ahhhs” and suggestive winks, saying that he should make sure to show off a little extra just for his “beau in the bleachers” you couldn’t see it from where you were but Beel got even redder and tried to laugh it off and back to practicing. Now this wasn’t the first time you’ve showed up to watch Beel practice, but it is the first time he’s known you were in the stands watching. Every time before you’d sat way in the back and watch for a minute or two before going off to do something else. Today you had no other commitments so you thought you’d stay and support him. But pretty early on you noticed he was fumbling more often than the other times you’d watched. You thought nothing of it, maybe it was just an off day, they happened, after all.

After practice when the two of you were relaxing, you brought it up and asked if he had a bad day before practice. Beel immediately reddened up, but had no qualms about explaining his team got him worked up about you being there and he was trying to look good for you but in the process fumbled up during practice. Seeing a blushing Beel is one of the cutest sights, and seeing that he got embarrassed of your behalf because he was trying to impress you is so adorable you cant help but smile really big at him and give him a quick peck on the lips.

Belphegor:

Belphie ended up embarrassed because you had spent a lot of effort into making up a nice night for he and you to go stargazing, but three hours before you were going to set off for your date he persuaded you into a nap. Belphie woke up before you did and when he looked at the time he saw that the two of you were supposed to leave an hour ago. He wanted to go back to sleeping and pretend in the morning like it was a big goof and you could go out another night, but he instead decided not to let all of your hard work go to waste. He softly shook you awake and while you were still recovering from your impromptu nap he had persuaded you to take, he explained that the both of you had overslept. He was so upset and embarrassed that he had ruined the date you planned but instead of you getting upset with him like he expected, you laughed. After you got yourself together you looked at Belphie “you know the starts will still be there even though we slept in, yeah?” Oh. Now Belphie understood why you laughed, but it didn’t really make him feel much better that you laughed about it after he felt so bad.

It’s written all over Belphie face that this whole deal got him upset, so you rolled out of bed, and pulled in your shoes “if we go now we can watch the stars, ill go grab the picnic basket from the fridge and hope Beel hasn’t beaten us to it.” You stopped by Belphie to pull him into a big hug before he got to his feet and joined you to go start your date.

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sunsetnoya · 3 years

Text

Dating Karasuno

Hi~~ this is my first post so I hope you like it! requests are currently open so pls leave me something ^-^

of course i had to use this yamaguchi gif 😌

daichi

since he’s the dad of the team, guess what?

ding ding! that’s right!

you’re also gonna get a parental role

the team definitely ship it

hinata even called you mom once by an accident (which he definitely wasn’t dared to by tanaka & noya) but we don’t talk about that

just having a really strong, wholesome relationship aka the type that

suga

being quite shy and awkward around each other when you first meet because you both have a lil crush

this lil crush grows the more you see each other

when you start warming up and becoming more comfortable with each other, you guys are so pure and soft

but also did i mention?? CRACKHEAD ENERGY!!!

suga being able to relax more around you and be more goofy

asahi

you know that tiktok meme where it’s like the uwu boyf and the bro s/o

yeah that’s you and asahi!

when karasuno go to tournaments the other teams are like “woah that guy looks b i g and s c a r y”

SIKE

it should be you they’re scared of but you will literally f i g h t anyone who so looks at him the wrong way

leader of the asahi protection squad

tanaka

before you started dating, he would be soo excited anytime you did anything? lol he would gush to noya and saeko about you

would literally do anything for you.

leader of the y/n protection squad

super protective of you when you go with him to tournaments

if he sees someone getting too close to you, expect him to wrap an arm around your waist

nishinoya

when i tell you noya would simp for you this man would HELLA SIMP for you

your school bag is heavy? no problem. he’ll carry it for you.

forgot your lunch cause you overslept? no problem. he’ll share his or buy you something.

need a hug cause you’ve had a bad day? not. a. problem.

now i’m craving a hug from noya 😣

being his no.1 fangirl™

kageyama

you’ve always a lil crush on each other but never did anything as you both thought the other didn’t feel the same

lol you guys are oblivious

hinata always teasing him whenever you’re not around

bribing him with milk and kisses jk... unless

hinata

starting off as super good friends!

hinata is just the most friendliest sunshine ever and he just had this aura that drew you to him

giving him some tosses whenever he asks because who can so to this cutie?? not you!

you being one of the only ones able to calm him down before a match

but also being able to match his energy!

overall a v pure relationship

tsukishima

has always thought you were cute but never told you because he has an image to maintain

yamaguchi teasing him to get over his tsundere ways

this leads to: stealing kisses when no one is watching, him teasing you lots because he just can’t help it

whenever you’re feeling like a rebel, you become more affectionate (pda or even just as little as calling him a pet name etc.) in front of the team

hinata, noya and tanaka tease him about it for AGES afterwards

don’t worry, he’ll get his payback later 😉

yamaguchi

leader of the yamaguchi protection squad

you encourage him lots and he loves you for it!!

just having those really cute dates where you are snuggled up to each other reading or something and just enjoying each other’s company

🥺🥺🥺

like just imagine

you’re watching tv and just running your fingers through his hair sign me up

kiyoko

FOREHEAD KISSES

and they make your heart skip a beat >-<

tanaka and noya being kinda disappointed that she picked you over them

BUTTT they become the leaders of the kiyoko + yn fan club

being a POWER COUPLE

yachi

not having much pda in school but expect LOTS OF WARM HUGS

study dates are a thing too!!

you know that moment when kiyoko stopped the ball from hitting yachi, yeah that’s you

opposites attract and you and yachi loving each other because of that

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the-himawari · 3 years

Text

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] Busybody Ventriloquism (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Banri: So, what're we doin’ about Masumi’s ventriloquist doll?

Masumi: A doll of Director works.

Yuki: The psycho stalker’s still saying that…

Chikage: He sure doesn’t waver.

Homare: Masumi-kun is truly determined.

Masumi: …

Yuki: *Sigh*… Can’t you hurry up and decide already? I want to make it soon too.

Izumi: Huh, has everyone gathered for a meeting?

Banri: Masumi, even though you’re the one who’s gonna do the ventriloquism, you can’t ask for a doll of Director.

Masumi: I won’t do it if it’s not Director’s doll.

Izumi: I see… (Oh, right… these members were the red team, right? I never thought that this would be what’s going on.)

Chikage: It’s fine if it’s only performed in front of the members here, but it won’t make sense if he does the ventriloquism with Director-san’s doll in front of an unspecified number of people.

Izumi: Right, right. Since we’re going out of way to make the doll, wouldn’t it better if it was somebody else and not me? Like, for example… someone from the Theatre troupe!

Masumi: …

Yuki: Your face looks dissatisfied.

Banri: Hahh… What should we do?

Homare: If possible, I think it would be better if Masumi-kun performs something that’s easy for him to pull off.

Chikage: …In that case, wouldn’t Tsuzuru work?

Masumi: …Why?

Chikage: If it’s Tsuzuru, then you’ve spent a lot of time together sharing a room and you understand his speaking tone and habits, don’t you?

Homare: Indeed, you have a point there.

Izumi: Yeah, that might be a good idea! Also, Masumi-kun, you’re really good at imitating Tsuzuru-kun, right? Like that time before when you were controlling Tsuzuru-kun from behind when he collapsed after finishing the script—. I really thought Tsuzuru-kun was moving and I was so surprised.*

Masumi: If you say so.

Banri: An immediate answer.

Yuki: He’s seriously way too simple.

Chikage: Well, it’s a relief Masumi agreed.

Izumi: Ahaha…

Yuki: So we’re going with a doll of Tsuzuru, right? Alright, I’ll start making it right away.

Izumi: I’m looking forward to it, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Yeah. I’ll improve even more for you…

-pause-

Tsuzuru: …Mm, mm mm. …I’ve overslept. It’s because I stayed up pretty late yesterday writing my report, huh…

Masumi: …

Tsuzuru: Uwahh!? M-Masumi!?

Masumi: …

Tsuzuru: …Don’t tell me you’ve been watching me this whole time?

Masumi: For a little while.

Tsuzuru: W-what is it? Did something happen? You should wake me up in that case.

Masumi: It’s nothing.

Tsuzuru: …?

-pause-

Homare: Ahh, Tsuzuru-kun, Masumi-kun. Good morning!

Tsuzuru: Good morning.

Homare: I see Masumi-kun is with you.

Tsuzuru: Yeah, for some reason Masumi’s been following me since the moment I woke up…

Masumi: …

Tsuzuru: He keeps looking at me like this…

Homare: Oh…?

*sink turns on*

Tsuzuru: Towel, towel…

Masumi: …Here.

Tsuzuru: A-ahh, thank you…?

Homare: It’s as if he’s an attendant. Well then, Masumi-kun. Could you hand me that towel over there as well?

Masumi: …

Homare: Are you ignoring me!?

Masumi: I’m busy right now.

Homare: Aren’t you just watching Tsuzuru-kun!

Tsuzuru: What in the world is going on...

---

*References The Floral Prince event episode 3

| next

#a3!#a3! translation #usui masumi #act! addict! actors!

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love-dreams · 3 years

Text

pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

content: based off of the netflix show, the queen’s gambit, with different character names; drug abuse and overdose; lots of chess terms

wc: 3454

note: I FREAKING LOVE THIS NETFLIX SHOWWW!! this is a character study i’m trying to do to make my female y/ns less.. idk meek? wimpy? it’s such a writing pet peeve of mine and i absolutely loved beth harmon’s character so here it is :))

the queen’s gambit masterlist: 1 2

It was quiet in the orphanage basement. With the exception of the dull thumping of childrens’ feet on the basement’s ceiling. Pensive, and tense, the air felt pregnant with strain.

Your eyes flitted back and forth, from black to white and then back again. They went over the ridges of the standing pieces, and down the curves until it met the checkered board. A criss-crossing maze full of infinite possibilities for strategy.

Finally, your delicate, little fingers wrapped around the stem of your rook, pushing it so it slid all the way across the board.

“Check,” came your raspy voice.

The janitor’s bald forehead creased into more folds, and he raised up a finger to push up the frame of his glasses. “Not anymore.” His voice was rough, like gravel scraping against concrete.

The young girl’s brows furrowed, “Wait, how can you do that? You never taught me-”

The buff man stood up suddenly, interrupting her rhetoric. “That’ll be for next time. Clean up the board now and get to class.”

“Wait-” you stuttered, feeling confused and cheated, but Mr. Lee's back was already turned on you, already moving in between the aisles of paint. You sighed, letting her gaze brush over the stationery pieces on the chess board once more, before sweeping all of them off into a velvet bag.

The school bell rang shrilly.

Soonyoung liked to win. Even at the young age of five, he liked crushing his opponents with a gummy smile on his face and curved crescent eyes.

They called him lots of names: the best chess player in the country since Yoon Jeonghan, the chess champion, etc.

But he figured he liked the title “Innocent Tiger of the Chessboard.” Soonyoung thought it made him sound powerful and glorious. He used the name “Hoshi” a lot after the Times magazine coined him that way.

“You’re all a bunch of-”

A girl, whom you did not know, was getting dragged from the cafeteria. A teacher yanked her forward by her long, curly afro harshly. One hand held the girl’s hair, and the other hand, you barely noticed, was holding a yellow-tinted soap bar.

You walked into the cafeteria, naturally standing at the back of a long line of orphaned girls. She moved forward, hesitantly, taking the spot in line from the previous girl. You looked up at the male vendor with large, unblinking eyes, expectantly. His eyes held a glint of remembrance, and slid a small, white paper cup toward you.

Your fingers reached into the small cup and grabbed the object inside. Small, oval shaped pills rested at the bottom of the paper cup.

“Ooh, those ones are best saved for the night. Don’t take ‘em all at once, either. Save ‘em.” You turned around. It was the black girl from before. “My name’s Ruth, by the way. You’re new here, right?” Ruth’s voice was sultry and teasing; her brown, chocolate eyes hid a twinkle of mischief that you could already tell made her a troublemaker. She had her own matching green pill in between her large hands. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Then, she walked right back into the cafeteria with the other girls.

The room where you slept was also occupied by the dozens of other girls in the orphanage. It had large windows with thin curtains, and stone ceilings and floors. The beds were identical with small dressers on the side of them.

Because the curtains were thin, they didn’t do much to keep the silver beams of moonlight from filtering into the room and onto the beds.

Your eyes were wide open, staring at the green pill twirling in between your fingers. You debated yourself internally for a few moments, before swallowing it in one gulp. Your eyes felt heavy with sleep, but your mind was as light as feather, swirling and swirling with thoughts. You finally cemented on one event in her day, zeroing in and latching onto it with no mercy.

The chess game with the orphanage janitor.

As the event seeped into the cracks of your skull, your eyelids slowly opened until you were faced with the dark, blank ceiling above you.

A spot appeared. Then another right beside it.

Then two more around those, and then more and more and more. They were alternating spots, some dark and some light.

You gasped, pushing herself to a seated position.

It was a chessboard.

The pieces slowly materialized on the ceiling. You could make out the distinct shapes of the king, the rook, and the many other pieces that she didn’t know the names of. You knew of the pawn, pieces with a rounded sphere as its head. Mr. Lee had taught you about them the first day she played chess with him.

“The opening,” he had called it. “Openings are the first moves of the game. Learn some.”

The pieces flickered on the board, teleporting from place to place, mimicking a real chess game.

You almost overslept for breakfast the next morning.

The teacher paused for a moment in her lecture, her hand moving automatically toward the chalk erasure. Her fingers brushed metal and her eyes saw an absent seat.

“Check.”

A piece moved.

You let out a breath.

“Checkmate.”

Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his bloated stomach. He said nothing, instead pulling out a rectangular box from his back pocket.

“I know all the pieces now.” You stood up, your arms bracing yourself against the table. “And how they move.”

Again, he refused to answer. His muscled, long fingers nimbly hooked under the latch on the cigarette box. You watched as Mr. Lee lit the cigarette and turned away.

Your internal question remained unanswered.

“Tomorrow,” he finally replied. “Tomorrow, I’ll properly teach you how to play.”

Your breath hitched in excitement, “Really? You’ll teach me-”

“You should learn the Sicilian Defense,” came his gruff voice. His back remained turned on her. You stood as well, seriousness filling the gap between the two of you.

Mr. Lee finally turned.

“To tell you the truth of it, child…” His lips curved upward. “You’re astounding.”

It was the national championship. Reporters and news outlets were crawling around everywhere, shoving their microphones into every chess player’s face. Soonyoung smirked in amusement, letting his gaze drop back down onto the chessboard in front of him.

“Oh, you moved already?”

Chan huffed, “It’s been two minutes, you’re gonna run out of time at this point.”

Soonyoung chuckled, sliding a piece away from him. His aura remained confident and unsettled by Chan’s warning. “I’d be more worried about yourself, brother.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed as he analyzed the board. At first glance, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. All of his pieces were set in motion and Soonyoung-

His eyes snapped open. Soonyoung was already one step ahead of him. Except this step was a mile in front and already at the finish line.

“H-how did you-” he stuttered in disbelief.

Soonyoung interrupted Chan, “Next move is Anderssen’s mate.” His eyes held a small twinkle of triumph, but anyone who had played Soonyoung before knew that he was never truly surprised about the outcomes of games he played.

Chan let his head hang low in defeat. “Alright, then.” His hand reached up to knock over the long column of his King. “You win.”

A crooked grin spread across the face of the young champion.

“Don’t worry!” He smirked. “You’ll always have next time.”

You had been falling behind in math class. You hardly ever paid attention when you were in class, and when you were out, math was hardly even at the back of your mind. Mr. Lee had gifted you a book to read called Modern Chess Openings. Soon enough, you had mastered not only all of the openings in the book, but also the art of hiding a book under your desk and reading.

One day, Mr. Lee had a visitor in the basement. Another man, leaner and taller than the janitor. He was dressed formally and wore a hat.

“Beth,” Mr. Lee greeted her. “This is Mr. Choi. He’s a representative of the chess club I play at.”

You stared at the stranger, unmoving and unresponsive.

“Hello, (Y/N),” he said, smiling. Mr. Choi was a friendly looking man, youthful too. “Would you care for a game of chess?” He took the chair next to Mr. Lee, long fingers already moving the pieces to their correct positions. His poise was confident and his eyes were shrewd. A completely different player from Mr. Lee was in front of you.

You won in three moves after the opening. Quick and precise, with no room for error. Mr. Lee looked on from the side of the table. His face showed neither surprise nor pride, but his eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“Well,” Mr. Choi raised his gaze from the board, turning his head toward the elder janitor. “She’s exactly how you described, Jihoon. I’m certainly impressed.” You waited patiently, unaware of the relationship between the two men. He turned his attention to the young girl in front of him. “(Y/N), how old are you?”

You answered mechanically, without any hesitation. You remained unfazed, an almost bored tone in your voice. “Nine years old, sir.”

Mr. Choi leaned back in his chair. “Nine years old, huh,” he echoed in disbelief. “That’s amazing. Say,” Mr. Choi reached down beside him. “(Y/N), would you be interested in competing against some other people?” He straightened himself, this time holding something in his hands. “I run a chess club at a high school near here, and I’d love to have you come play with us.”

You stared at him, shock and curiosity filling your gaping mouth. “Me?”

Mr. Choi chuckled, finally bringing up the object in his hands for her to see. “You can think about it for awhile, I’ll also be in contact with your headmistress. In the meantime, here’s a prize for your win. Nine year old girls like dolls, right?”

Your mouth refused to answer. You looked helplessly at Mr. Lee, but his gaze was fixated on the ending board pieces.

“Well then,” Mr. Choi breathed. “I’ll be off.”

You watched as he grabbed his leather briefcase and his hat, then strode straight in between the shelves and up the wooden, creaky stairs. Then, you turned your attention to the doll in front of you.

You hesitantly grabbed the plastic body, running your thumbs over the cheap polyester clothes.

Then, you promptly threw it in the trash.

The next time you saw Mr. Choi was not in the cold basement, but instead, in the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a bitter woman with strict ideals that were brittle and unbending. You had only met her once, and you had hoped that they would never come so close again.

“Well, Miss (Y/N). Is what Mr. Choi telling me true?” Her wintry voice chilled you down to the bone, leaving your head numb and you palms overheating. Without waiting for a response, Headmaster Kim turned her attention back to Mr. Choi. “Mr. Choi, we appreciate the offer and would love for the orphanage’s many talented students to compete with others, but going to a school by herself? I worry for the child.”

Mr. Choi nods, compromising with a soft tone, “Of course, I will be with her at all times.”

“Hm,” the headmaster pondered. “I’d rather her go with another girl actually.”

He relented immediately. “Absolutely.”

The Headmaster stood up from her seat. “Well then, it’s decided. Young (Y/N) will be accompanied by a fellow student from the orphanage.”

Mr. Choi complied calmly, leaving without another comment. Quietly and rapidly just like the first time you had met him. Your nerves spread out like spindly branches of a tree, bumping against each other until it filled the entire room.

“(Y/N)?”

It was only until the Headmaster called your name that you realized your gaze had dropped to the floor.

“You’ve been playing chess in the basement, I hear.” There was a pause, and you quickly recognized that the woman expected a response. You dipped her head slightly into a nod of acknowledgement. “I must say, playing chess in the basement is highly irregular.” Your heart rate jerked upward. Would the Headmaster forbid you from playing chess? A sense of dread pricked her heart. “Ask Mr. Jun for a chess board from the game closet, I’m sure we have one or two. You can play out in the open from now on.”

A wave of relief crashed over you. “Really?”

The Headmaster dismissed you, “It’s lunch time now. Hurry back to the cafeteria, Miss (Y/N).”

You left without any refusal, your steps hurried and rushed as your shoes clicked against the cement floors.

The cafeteria had its usual vibrations of friendly chatter, and the line to the pill vendor was just as long as the day she arrived. Inching closer and closer to the vendor, you buzzed with anticipation for your daily collection of green pills.

The man slid the snow paper cup toward you, and habitually, you looked inside for the strange green pill among the scarlet ones.

It wasn’t there.

“Where’s the green pill?” you asked, bewildered.

The vendor sighed, clearly annoyed and frustrated with you. His voice was thin and gruff, an unattractive timbre. “New state laws, kid. No more tranquilizers. Now move on, more people waitin’ behind you.”

You furrowed your brow, but moved aside regardless.

That night, you counted the leftover tranquilizers you had saved up. There were only five left. You’d have to ration them and not take them frivolously.

The ceiling remained a blank canvas without its usual checkered illusion projected.

“Chess is getting kind of boring,” Soonyoung noted one day. He was 18 at the time.

Chan glared at him from his peripheral vision. “God damn it, Kwon. Maybe you need to get a life or something.”

He laughed, sweeping the plastic chess pieces off the wooden board. “Are you suggesting a get laid, or that I go on a date? Because both are well within reach.”

Chan grinned cruelly, “Like hell they are. The only thing you’ll ever love more than yourself is chess. As if a girl could even compare.”

Soonyoung rubbed at his nape sheepishly. “Maybe if she was a girl who played chess..”

“Well then you’d just see her as another bad player who couldn’t beat you.”

“Jesus, Chan. Way to make a guy feel motivated,” he sighed. “I guess I’ll just have a steamy date with my chess books instead.”

Chan huffed in annoyance and turned his attention away from the other male.

The drugs didn’t last you until the chess match and you began to feel the effects of it. Or rather, the effects of not having them. You mind would wander during class and you felt sluggish and tired. Ruth noticed.

“What’s going on, cracker? You don’t look so slick.”

It was true. Your hair was unkempt, your eyes were sunken and bruised from insomnia, and you no longer had the energy to hold up a conversation. Ruth sighed and moved closer so that your elbows were brushed up against each other. “It’s because of those green pills, ain’t it?” When you didn’t respond, Ruth huffed. “Alright then, I was gonna help you out with that by sharin’ some of mine, but if you’re gonna be so rude, then I guess I won’t!”

Your head snapped up. “You still have some?” you whispered.

Ruth smirked, her large lips parting to reveal bright white teeth. “Sure I do! Started savin’ these babies up a long time before you did.”

“Can I have some?” you hesitantly asked, your voice was low and soft. It was only a day before the chess game with the high school team and you were slowly going psychotic without the tranquilizers’ help.

Ruth denied you a verbal cue and instead, moved closer to slip two pills into your dress’s pocket.

It was your first time leaving the orphanage ever since you entered through the black, metal gates. Thus, when you, accompanied by Jamie Park, ambled through the high school halls, along with Mr. Choi, you were noticeably a little startled. It was noisy, crowded and ever so chaotic. Kids of all sizes were ravaging the school, lockers were haphazardly open and some closed, there was no sense of the eerie order at the Methuen Home orphanage.

You found that you didn’t mind the disarray much after all.

Mr. Choi led the duo into an empty classroom filled with desks that had been arranged into a circle. Only a few kids lingered in the room. You could count the amount of girls with your fingers. He directed you and Jamie toward the edge of the room.

The pair watched as student after student filed into the room in a steady stream of people, like tap water flowing out until only the last few drops fell.

Mr. Choi stood in the middle of the classroom and spread his arms dramatically. “Welcome, everyone! Today we have a very special guest,” he announced. Mr. Choi motioned toward you. Feeling compelled, you shyly stood and walked forward. “This is Miss (Y/N). You all will be playing a simultaneous against her!” He paused. “Please take your places.”

The students shuffled amongst themselves, the sound of feet thundering crescendo-ed until all of the seats were filled. You looked around at all of the male students seated in front of chess boards, a somber expression pasted on each of their faces. Some even had smirks. You looked up at Mr. Choi, who had a smile on his face.

“Mr. Choi?” you questioned.

He nodded, ushering toward the first board from clockwise motion.

You stepped forward in front of the first board and looked down at the colored pieces in front of her. You took a deep breath, then moved the first piece.

It took only eighty minutes to win every single board, even the high school’s best chess player.

When you returned to Methuen, you first celebrated with Mr. Lee. The janitor had prepared a small treat for you when you returned. To the normal eye, Mr. Lee looked neutral and maybe even a little irritated, but to you, the pride in his eyes were as clear as the squares on the chessboard.

“Honestly, I was most surprised about how bad they are. I mean, they made the most basic mistakes.” You paused to swallow a lump of dark chocolate. “Doubled pawns, queen trades, all of that. It was honestly kinda embarrassing to play against them.”

Mr. Lee didn’t interject your rant, watching as brown spread across your lips to your cheeks. He handed you a napkin and stayed quiet.

“Well,” you stood up, straightening our your skirt. “I’m off now.” The janitor nodded, eyes fixated on the chess pieces on the board as if they were moving by themselves. You looked down at the board and a question naturally floated to the top of her mind. “When’re you going to teach me end game, Mr. Lee?”

Mr. Lee looked up at the nine year old.

“Soon.”

Soonyoung was only 10 when he won his state championship. He won the country’s championship when he was 14.

He lost it when he was 23.

You ran out of the green pills in a day after the chess tournament. Once again, your body was thrown into withdrawal. It felt like a constant yearning for water. Every single day your gaze would linger on the glass jugs of pills behind the windowed divider. It became tantalizing. Each night you would salivate at the thought of breaking in and shoveling those pills into your mouth. It was a heavenly dream that nudged you closer and closer to reality.

It was during class that you found herself passing the open door of the cafeteria. The cafeteria room was a desert and the oasis was straight in front of your very own eyes. Self-control was a feeble wall that disintegrated under the wave of pent up yearning.

Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock, yanking it off and sliding over the divider. It was too easy.

Your heart pounded against the confines of her chest. The adrenaline rushed through your veins and your vision quickly became dizzy.

The second your fingers reached the pills, you were gone.

All those nights of dreams finally came true. You couldn’t even stop her hands from shoveling those pills into your mouth.

You couldn’t even stop as your fingers twitched on the ground, your body pressed against the cold tile floor.

“Rumor has it you were drunk while playing Minghao.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I was sober anyway.”

next part: here

tag list: @haotheheckk @svtantalizing

#caratwritersclub #hoshi/reader #seventeen/reader #svt/reader #hoshi angst #hoshi fluff #soonyoung/reader #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #g:seventeen #m:hoshi #quillstarters-entry

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superman86to99 · 3 years

Photo

Who’s Who: Sam Foswell

(art by @donsparrow)

If you’ve been watching the CW’s Superman & Lois, you’ve heard the name “Foswell” a whole lot, usually in an exasperated tone. That’s the jackass who fires several Daily Planet employees in the early episodes, including Clark Kent and, most devastatingly, Whit, the heart and soul of the Planet. In the comics, Foswell plays a very similar role, with some slight differences that probably won’t make it to TV, like when he makes out with a satanic being masquerading as an angel and then transforms into a muscular demon (someone correct me if I’m wrong and that already happened in the show but I missed it, somehow).

And so, for anyone who might be wondering “Who’s Sam Foswell?” or “Which DC Comics does Sam Foswell appear in?” or other Google-able phrases that might lead people to this page, we present the definitive comic book history of this classic Superman supporting character (”classic” meaning “he was in the comics I read as a kid in the ‘90s”).

Sam first showed up in Superman #51 (1991), soon after a storyline in which a satanic being/nightclub owner called Lady Blaze steals the souls of Jimmy Olsen and Perry White’s son, Jerry -- who is actually the biological son of Lex Luthor, but should NOT be confused with Lex Luthor II (for one thing, Jerry never slept with a gooey other-dimensional being shaped like Supergirl). Superman manages to save Jimmy and Jerry from Blaze’s hellish realm, but only one of them comes back to life. Unfortunately, it’s Jimmy. I mention all of this because, after the death of his son, Perry decides to quit being the Daily Planet’s editor-in-chief for a while and cedes that title to long-time staff member Sam Foswell, who must have worked in another floor, because we’d never seen this guy before.

It’s pretty obvious right away that Perry would have been better off leaving a janitor or something in charge. In Superman #52, Foswell asks Clark for help using Perry’s computer and seems surprised to learn that those crazy Kent and Lane kids are working on a story together (they’ve been dating for so long that they’re already engaged). In Action Comics #665, he has to beg Clark to go from freelancer to full time staff member because he’s just way in over his head. Up until now, Foswell basically seems like a clueless grandpa running a major media outlet, but he’ll soon become far less adorable...

Clark’s full time salary must be pretty good, because in Superman: The Man of Steel #1, Foswell says the Planet is suddenly having money issues and fires some people. Among them is Jimmy Olsen, who literally just signed the lease on his first apartment, so excellent timing there, Sam. But hey, at least this means Jimmy’s concern that his new editor would “bust his chops” was unjustified! (Because he has no editor, because he’s unemployed.)

(Fun fact: That other girl Foswell fires is secretly the daughter of a DC hero, as part of a storyline absolutely no one noticed, which I’ll write about another time.)

Jimmy only finds out he’s been fired in Superman #57, and he tells Foswell he’s gonna regret it. I’m not sure what Jimmy meant by that, but it probably wasn’t “I’m gonna spend several months homeless and living in my car until a drunken bar owner takes pity on me,” which is what happened. Anyway, on that same issue Foswell says he’s gonna write an editorial praising the Eradicator, who was in his “murder criminals and forcibly turn the Earth into Krypton” phase. When Clark objects, Foswell not so subtly threatens to fire him, even though he was practically kissing Clark’s ass just the other day.

Foswell goes all “Mr. Slate from The Flintstones” on Clark again on Superman #58, this time because he thinks Clark overslept, like he does every time Superman has an early morning emergency. While at it, Foswell also gives Lois crap about some expense reports, leading to an adorable sequence where Clark kisses her at super-speed while she��s being chastised, without Foswell noticing. After going around firing and antagonizing people for several months, Foswell still seems baffled to learn that no one likes him in Adventures of Superman #481. Yeah, this guy’s not the most perceptive journalist ever.

Continuing his quest to become the most hateable Daily Planet staffer ever (not surnamed “Olsen”), Foswell writes an anti-Superman editorial in Superman #59 -- he says that if Superman really cared about Metropolis, he’d take over as CEO of LexCorp and create more jobs. Ironically, Foswell treats his own employees so poorly (the ones he hasn’t fired, I mean), that in Adventures #482 a bunch of them go on strike start heckling him... not very effectively, but it’s the thought that counts.

Perry comes back to the Planet in in Action #670 and the first thing he does is call Foswell and the other higher ups a bunch of idiots for mistreating their employees. Foswell goes back to being a regular staffer after that, but he’s so unpopular that they finally kick him out in Action #677. Foswell tries to get a job at Newstime magazine (the DC Universe’s version of Newsweek and Time) in Superman #68, but the owner, Colin Thornton, basically tells him to go to Hell... which is a spoiler of where this story is going.

This is where things turn really dark for old Sam. The next time we see him, in Man of Steel #14, he’s at the cemetery visiting his wife and son (or someone else he affectionately called “Little Geoffrey,” anyway) and thinking about joining them. Even the Babadook is like “damn, poor guy”...

And sure enough, in Superman #70 Foswell actually jumps off a bridge -- only for a beautiful angel to save him and promise that his fortunes will change if he “pledges himself” to her. Later that same issue, Foswell runs into Colin Thornton again and is offered a job as Newstime’s editor on the spot. Everything’s coming up Foswell! He even gets a smooch on the mouth from that hot angel!

Unfortunately, Foswell’s new “angel” girlfriend is actually the satanic Lady Blaze in disguise. This is leads to “The Blaze/Satanus War” saga (starting in Adventures #493), in which Blaze tries to invade Metropolis by teleporting demons through Foswell, since his soul belongs to her. In Action #680, she convinces Foswell that Superman wants to kill him for firing his pal Jimmy, so Sam fully gives himself to her and becomes a big, muscular demon creature (whom this blog dubbed “FosHELL”).

In Man of Steel #15, Superman is told that the only way to prevent Metropolis from literally going to Hell is to kill Foswell. This seems like it’s setting up a big heroic sacrifice scene, which would have at least given the character a dignified end, but nah. Instead, Superman ends up teaming up with Blaze’s evil-but-less-evil-than-her brother, Lord Satanus, to defeat her.

Once Blaze is taken care of, Satanus restores Foswell to his dweeby human form in Superman #71... but only because he now owns Sam’s soul and thinks he might be useful some day. Oh yeah, and Satanus is secretly Foswell’s boss, Colin Thornton! So he owns the guy in both the earthly and the satanic realms.

I guess his new demonic master never found a use for the guy, because this storyline was the last time we ever saw Sam Foswell... until he was brought back by a TV show in 2021. And he also got new art by our own Don Sparrow!* At last, everything really IS coming up Foswell. Until the show kills him off to bring back Perry White, anyway.

*Foswell fanatics can see Don’s full artwork without that pesky logo in our Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/51941393

#superman #superman & lois #sam foswell

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

Golden Ring: Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, Gore, Smoking, Drinking, etc.

Word Count: 1,833

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Requested by: @captivatedbycillianmurphy (thank you!)

Summary: When the Shelby’s are on business, there’s no such thing as rest, not even for Y/N.

A/N: Totally had “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” by Cage The Elephant stuck in my head while writing this. (Also fun fact: they’re from the city I went to college in and they did a free show on campus once which was lit).

Part 1 | Part 2

Tommy drove through the late-night fog and along the dark roads that led to their warehouse, the wheels creeping by ever so slightly on the dirt covered streets. The gears shifted as he put the car in park and got out, and walked towards the old building.

He pulled out a cigarette and rubbed it against his lips as he walked further into the darkness, the only light coming from what he assumed were his brothers cigarettes in the distance.

“Aye, who the fuck are you?” One of the men asked, who was most definitely not his brother.

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you on my property?” Tommy asked, the light from a cracked window seeping in, illuminating the two men’s faces.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Thomas Shelby. We’re here to take your stock. The weapons. The drugs...What are you going to do? Call your brothers? Make your whore of a mother appear out of thin air or something?” He asked.

Tommy sighed, straightened his coat, and took his hat off nonchalantly, flipping it around in his hand as he looked down at it, before landing a hard punch to the mans jaw.

His other friend quickly took off towards the door with two bags full of cocaine.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you mate. You won’t get far.” Arthur said blocking the door with John next to him holding a shotgun.

Tommy then grabbed his cap tightly and pulled his hand back, sending the razor blade straight towards the mans eye. He slashed open one of them to where he’d be barely be able to see out of it, and the other he cut out completely, leaving the man screaming bloody murder as he walked towards his brothers.

“Where are the other men aye?” He asked grabbing the man by his collar.

“By the cut, I heard them fighting so I stayed here with him.” He said pointing to his partner bleeding out on the ground.

“They aren’t there anymore, you little London boy. You don’t mess with the peaky fookin’ blinders and live to tell about it.” Arthur said inching closer to the young man.

He was shaking as he realized he was the only one of his gang left, his boss surely plotting his death the longer he stayed in Small Heath.

“I’ll give you one minute to run out of here, because I don’t think you’re worth killing just yet. You tell your boss that if he wants to do business he’ll come to me directly, or I’ll have to come to him, and he won’t want that.” Tommy said menacingly as he held the young man by his collar.

“Al-alright. I will, can you let me go?” He asked.

Tommy held him there for a couple moments just to watch him struggle before letting him go. The young man dropped to the ground and ran straight out, leaving his friend and other deceased gang members behind.

“Now, what did you lot do with the others? I’m not digging any graves tonight.” He asked, his eyes landing on John.

“Well Arthur beat two of them to a pulp. I told ya he would go feral.” John said giving a sideways glance at Arthur.

Arthur smacked him in the back of the head before he continued.

“Well John-boy shot one in the head, the other is drifting down the cut with 3 bullet holes in his chest. Do we have to fookin’ retrieve them now Tommy?” Arthur asked.

“If you don’t want the coppers to get on us again, then yes. I’d imagine it would frighten the women and children walking past the cut as well, we don’t want that.” Tommy said before heading towards the door.

He looked down at his golden ring before looking back at his brothers who angrily spoke up.

“You’re just gonna leave us here to do the dirty work then aye Tommy?” John yelled.

“I have some things to do. You’ve both buried worse, just make their graves deeper this time.” He said before looking at his pocket watch.

“It’s Y/N again isn’t it Tommy? Bastard can’t even handle a murder job without wanting to run home to his spouse!” Arthur said, chuckling as John smirked.

“You’ll understand someday Arthur. Just get to work or I’ll make sure you’re both buried with that gang of fools instead of buried in company work tomorrow.” Tommy said before stepping outside and lighting another cigarette before heading home.

Back at home, the sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window with you laying in it’s rays, the sun warm on your skin as you draped yourself across the sheets as sleep eluded you still.

Your eyes were tired, with dark circles starting to form as the thoughts danced around in your head at where your husband could be. It had been 3 hours since he’d left, not that time meant much when he was away, it always seemed to blur until he came home.

As you stared at the old stone fireplace, you could hear the door cracking open downstairs as familiar footsteps heavily echoed through the hall and up to the bedroom.

He cracked the door open as light as he could, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep, but you moved so you were facing him as he entered the room, meeting his tired eyes and blood stained hands and face. His clothes weren’t much better off, knowing that would be a pain to wash out.

“You haven’t slept...” He said taking his cap off and looking at you. He undid his dress shirt and took of the suspenders that clanked as he set them down on the table.

“I told you I probably wouldn’t be able to, you know that my love.” You said as you curled up on the sofa, the robe around you shifting with your movements.

“What can I do to help ya then aye? I can’t have you passing out at work.” He said coming over to sit on the floor next to you.

You lazily ran your hand through his hair as he leaned into your touch. The blood from earlier still glinting off his face in the sunlight.

“Well you could go take a shower, you’ve become so used to being covered in blood you forget it’s all over your face.” You said giggling slightly, he smiled and you felt him laugh a bit as you dropped your hand to his shoulder, massaging it lightly.

“You’re right about that, do you want to join?” He asked, looking over to you as he smirked.

“Only after you’ve washed the blood off, and on one condition.” You said.

“And what is that?” He asked.

“You lay with me for a while since you’ve been gone more often than not this week...that might help me sleep, at least until we have to get to work.” You said.

He smiled and nodded in agreement before getting up to rid himself of last nights business. You reluctantly getting up from the comfort of the sofa to join him in the steaming shower not soon after.

Showers always made everything better in a sense, so after it, you had no trouble falling asleep in Tommy’s arms.

You awoke later to the sun shining even brighter than before, signaling the afternoon, and you felt his warm arms still holding you as you lifted your head up slightly to look at him. He looked peaceful when he slept, or at least when he slept near you. Other times he’d be wide awake as the sounds of shovels and the muddy tunnels plagued his mind.

You carefully got up to not wake him and looked at the clock on the wall, lightly ticking in the distance and your eyes growing wide at the realization.

“My god...oh no...not again!” You said hurriedly.

“Thomas wake up! Thomas!” You said shaking his shoulder lightly.

His eyes shot open and he sat up immediately, looking around the room for any danger.

“What is it Y/N?” He said groggily and calming down as he saw you frantically getting ready.

“We overslept! Polly’s gonna kill us! We can’t be late to another meeting...you know this.” You said scurrying into the bathroom as you heard Tommy swearing under his breath.

He walked in as you were doing your hair quickly and putting in minimal effort to look presentable. Tommy was shirtless and standing behind you brushing his teeth, with his pants and belt undone as he’d hurriedly thrown a new pair on.

“You can finish getting ready and I’ll wait in the car.” You said moving out of his way and slipping your shoes on and grabbing your coat.

That was always the one little thing he loved about you, as you would always get ready quickly which often came in handy when he’d steal you away before other meetings or parties, and you still looked remarkable even if you put in minimal effort.

Not long after you started the car, he was bounding out the door and climbing into the drivers side, giving you a quick peck on the lips before speeding off towards the shop.

You looked at the watch Tommy had gifted you a while back, it reading 12:30pm as you both headed towards the familiar streets. People looked on as Tommy sped slightly through the streets earning some concerned glances.

With a lurching stop, Tommy parked the car and help you out, letting you inside the shop first as he followed.

“Y/N...Thomas...nice of you to join us.” Polly said smirking at you both as you walked in to the packed meeting room.

Tommy shook his head as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before sitting down and lifting a cigarette to his lips, wincing as Polly loudly re-hashed some of the news and plans involving the business.

“Tom, the London boys boss is wanting to meet you. Your message was delivered.” Michael said, eyeing him as he lit his own cigarette.

“When will he be here? 3 in the morning?” He asked, yawning on cue as you smirked, remembering the annoying events of last night.

“Actually yeah...What? That’s what he said...” Michael said confused.

You and Tommy shared a knowing look, as he rolled his eyes back to his brother.

“Alright...tell him it’s doing me a disservice but I’ll meet him...with backup of course.” He said looking to John and Arthur, they seemed just as tired, and still wearing their clothes from last night.

“For fucks sake. As long as you bury him this time Tom.” John said.

Tommy smirked in response, turning his gaze to you as you lazily rested your head on your arm, Polly glaring at you until you straightened up.

As much as you loved your husband, it was a known fact in the Shelby family that the wicked never rested. So you sighed as you accepted your fate, knowing sleep would elude you once again until business was done.

Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed just shoot me an ask/message!) :)

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee

#katiesfics #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #katiesWIPlist

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