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kenzies-love-stories · 3 years

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Who’s Gonna Tell Sam pt.2 (Paul Lahote x Reader)

A/n: Finally the much a waited part 2 is here! we dive a bit deeper into the readers past issues at home, Jared has a big mouth and Emily is playing match maker. I cut part 2 off where I did because it was getting long. Fear not though part 3 is going to pick up where this one left off. This is poorly edited and I apologize for that I just couldn’t wait to get this out!~ 🖤Kenzie🖤

Type: Fluff just fluff, reader has issues at home that made her move but it is nothing descriptive.

tag list: @venusdelaroix i know you asked about part 2 let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list.

posted: September 7 2021

word count: 3005

Y/n Young is a 17-year-old girl has been sent to live with her Aunt Emily due to some family issues and how her mother was handling them. Y/n tries not to resent her mother for choosing to send her away to La Push Washington instead of dealing with their problems as mother and daughter. Y/n felt as if her mother was giving up on her, it made her feel like she wasn’t worth it. She finds that the cold sandy beach that is in La Push dulls in comparison to the warm sandy beaches back home in California.

y/n Pov

It has been about six months since Paul had imprinted on me, and we are pretty much attached at the hip. The only time we are not around one another is when I am at school and late at night when Paul is on patrol. I am honestly very surprised that Sam still doesn’t know what Paul and I are to one another.

Speaking of Sam, he is currently with the rest of the pack, aside from Jared who is with Kim across from me at the kitchen table. Emily is in the kitchen making her oh so famous muffins and I am crocheting another square for my blanket.

I slightly pause when I hear Kim ask, “has anyone else noticed how calm Paul has been lately? It is honestly kind of strange, but not unwelcome.”

I go back to my work as I hear Emily answer while filling up muffin pans, “Yeah! I also noticed that.”

I freeze dead in my tracks when I hear, “It’s because of the imprint, the more he is around y/n the-”

I cut him off by yelling “JARED, SHUT UP!” but it was already too late, the damage was done.

“Y/n I am so sorry-” Jared starts

I cut him off, “It’s fine.” I put my hook down and make eye contact with Emily

“y/n/n is that true?” she softly asks coming out of the kitchen to sit next to me.

“Yes, it is, but Paul and I are not together in that way, I told him that I could really use a best friend right now. I didn’t completely shut down that idea either though, I just want to get to know him for him before that happens.”

“Does Sam know, why am I just hearing about this now?” she asks in confusion, knowing Sam he would have made a bit of a scene.

“No, Paul and I want to be the ones to tell him. We just don’t quite know how to yet.” I pause, “we made the guys promise not to say or think about it, I am actually surprised that Jared managed to last as long as he did.” I laugh playfully glaring at him.

“Hey! what are you trying to say kid!?!” he questions pointing at me.

“That you have a big mouth.” I joke holding back a laugh, when I hear Kim laugh.

“Oh, you little shit! I’ll give you a five second head start.” he says before standing and kissing Kim on the cheek.

I squeal and take off out the back door where I see a shirtless Paul, Embry and Quill. I sprint towards Paul and dunk behind him grabbing on to the back of his shoulders hiding. He looks over his shoulder at me in concern, “Y/n/n what’s wrong are you okay?”

“Jared may or may not be after me!” I exclaim as Jared comes running out of the house scanning the back yard.

“Where are you, you little shit.” he shouts and looks towards Paul. “Of course, um Yeah. NOPE!” he exclaims then goes back inside to Kim.

I come out from behind Paul to see him smirk down at me, “what was that about.” He asks pointing to the door.

“Jared um he slipped up and I told him he had a big mouth.” I state nervously as I hear Embry and Quill laugh.

Paul worriedly asks, “who was around when this happened?”

I pull Paul into a hug to calm us both down, “Only Emily and Kim, luckily.” I say into his chest savoring the warmth of his body.

He pulls me closer and rests his chin the top of my head, “So, I am assuming Emily wants to have a few words with me?”

“Yeah, she does.” I say while pulling away from his warm body. He sighs nervously and nods before walking inside. I decide to stay outside with Embry and Quill

“So, where’s Sam?” I ask

“Emily’s and his anniversary are coming up soon, so he is out looking for gifts.” Quill states

Paul POV

I walk into Sam and Emily’s with my palms slightly clammy. Emily is far scarier than Sam is when she is angry. “Hey Emily I heard that you wanted to talk to me?” I ask once I reach her kitchen table.

“Yes, I do, Kim can you and Jared please step outside for a few minutes?” She asks after putting something into the oven.

I see Kim start to drag Jared towards the slider, “of course.” She says before closing the slider behind her.

We both sit down at the table, “Paul I heard that you imprinted on Y/n.”

“Yes, I did, Emily, I promise you I didn’t mean too.” I start to defend myself when she cuts me off.

“Paul it is okay, I know you can’t control that stuff. Just know that y/n has been through a lot, I don’t know what she has told you about her mom and that is not my place to tell you those things but just know that she has a hard time letting people in. She has a bit of abandonment issues and if you of all people abandon her too, it would just crush her. I can see that you mean the world to her and I haven’t seen that look in her eye since her dad. I just don’t want to see her hurt.” Emily states while making eye contact with me.

“She has not told me much about what she has gone through but I can assure you with confidence that I have no intention of ever hurting her or leaving her side. Emily just seeing her sad during a movie sends a pang of pain to shoot through my chest. I know that she only sees me as a best friend and by all means that is enough for me but the more, I get to know her beautiful soul the more I start to fall in love with her. Like the only thing I want to do is keep that smile on her face.” I honestly vent to Emily.

“I am really thankful to hear that, I know you will protect her with your life and because I feel that I don’t have anything to worry about I promise I won’t tell Sam.” She states, “That was all, I just wanted to touch base with you.”

“Thank you, Emily,” I say before going outside to spend some one-on-one time with y/n before Sam gets back.

y/n pov about a week later

Emily had of course been true to her word and has not uttered a word to Sam about Paul’s and I connection. Though she has been slyly playing matchmaker and finding ways for Paul and I to be together. Like this morning for example, “y/n come get your lunch!”

I run down the stairs taking them two at a time until I make my way to the kitchen. I grab the brown paper bag from Emily and I noticed she is dressed up, “Thank you Auntie, um why are you so dressed up? Aren’t you just dropping me off at school.”

“For Sam and I anniversary this year I bought us tickets to a music festival a state over, we will be gone for about a week. Paul is coming to get you for school today,” She pulls me into a hug and in a hushed whisper says, “You will have the house to yourself just no funny business.”

“Really!” I exclaim “Have fun Auntie.” I say as Sam makes his way downstairs with two backpacks.

“Y/n are you sure you are going to be okay here alone?” he asks stopping in front of me.

“I’ll be fine Sam I promise. You two go have fun you deserve it.” I muse before pulling him into a tight hug.

I pull away and hug Emily one more time, “Thank you.” I say very quietly into her ear.

“If you need anything, call Jared or Quill.” Sam states with a hint of a smile on his face.

“Will do Sam, I love you guys!” I exclaim as they are walking out, I hear a “We love you too!” in reply.

I watch them pull out of the driveway and then I look down at my current outfit, with a sigh I quickly run up the stairs to change as I was not planning on seeing Paul until way later. I rush back down the stairs when I hear a knock on the door. I quickly fix my hair before I pull open the door with a smile. I am greeted with Paul’s warm presence.

I grin big, “Good morning, Paul.”

“Someone is cheery this morning.” Paul says before opening his strong arms, I happily walk into them allowing his warmth to comfort me for a minute.

All to soon I pull away and grab my backpack before I close the front door. I then put my house key in the lock, then check the door to make sure it is locked. “Can you let the pack know that the back door is open for them. Sam and Emily are in Idaho at a music festival for the next week or so.”

“Really when was this, no one told us anything.” He asks while walking us to his truck.

“Yeah, Emily surprised him, they left this morning. Emily said that I have the house to myself for a week or so.” I reply nodding in thanks as he opens my door for me. My heart swoons and butterflies swarm in my belly as he closes the door then jogs over to his side.

“Really?” He asks as he starts the truck.

“Yeah, would you want to have a sleep over, Emily said that it was okay.” I ask while admiring his side profile as he focuses on the road to get me to school safely.

I see Paul’s cheeks start to slightly flush before he answers, “of course, I would love to as long as Emily said it was okay.”

The ride to school was sadly quicker than I would have liked it to be. I sigh in distain as he pulls up in front of the school. “I am sorry I have to leave you at this hell hole y/n/n.” Paul states

“it’s fine Paul there is only three more months until graduation.” I state before deciding to be a bit bold, I then lean over to press a quick peck to Paul’s warm cheek. “Bye Paul see you after school.”

I see his cheeks deepen in color and he stutters, “k-knock them dead cutie.”

I giggle and open the truck door, shutting it behind me and walking towards what Paul describes as hell. I meet Seth by the front door as always, “Good morning, Seth.”

“Good morning y/n/n, did I just see Paul drop you off?” he asks holding the front door to the school open for me.

“Yeah, Sam and Emily are on their way to Idaho for a music festival.” I state walking with him to our first period of the day.

"Really!?! Why wasn’t I informed about this?” He asks sitting down at his desk next to mine.

“Emily bought the tickets for their anniversary so Sam probably didn’t know until late last night. That would explain why everyone was left in the dark.” I state before getting out my blue notebook for Chemistry.

The rest of my school day drones on uneventfully and much to slow for my liking. However, the final bell finally rings, signaling that it is three o’clock meaning school is out for the weekend. I rush to my locker as fast as my feet would carry me. I place all the things that I do not need for the weekend, slamming my locker shut I check the lock to make sure that no one is breaking into it. Not that I am worried at this school, it is a force of habit for going to school in California for so long.

I pick my backpack up off the floor, swing it over my shoulders before I start to push my way through the bodies all trying to make it to the exit first. I let out a breath of relief as the fresh crisp Washington air hits my face. I quickly glance around the parking lot looking for Paul’s truck which I find in the front row. With excitement I run over to his truck and gently pull open the door, “Hi Paul!”

“Hi there, how was your day love?” he asks.

I start to tell him about my day as I get in his truck, I only briefly stop to gently pull the door closed. After I am all done with my day, I glance over at Paul to already see him looking at me. “So,” he starts before continuing nervously, “I got Quill to cover my shift for patrol tonight, do you want to go to an arcade with me?”

A big smile breaks out on my face, “Paul is that even a question, I love arcades! I honestly can’t wait to see your face when I whoop your ass at Ski Ball.”

“Oh yeah, you think so?” he teases

“I know so hotshot.” I fire back.

“Awe you think I’m hot.”

“That is beside the point.” I squeak embarrassedly

“Yeah you- Wait seriously, you really think I’m hot?” he has surprise laced in his tone

“Yeah, Paul I do, have you seen yourself lately.” I reply with a new found confidence.

“Well, the feeling is mutual, I find you particularly eye catching as well.”

“Thanks Paul,” I giggle as I noticed he entered the freeway, in confusion I ask, “Paul where are we going.”

“We are going to a little hole in the wall arcade in Seattle, I used to go there all the time as a kid.” he replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okie cool.” I reply placing my backpack at my feet on the floorboard. I feel my cheeks heat up as the embarrassment sets in finally, Paul found out that I thought he was hot...You are allowed to find your best friend hot...right?

I am brought out of my trance by Paul turns on his radio, “We can listen to whatever you want to y/n/n.” Paul mutters before signaling over.

“Thank you very much but I actually wanted to talk to you a bit about why I am currently living with Emily.” I reply before shakily turning the dial down again so he can clearly hear me.

“y/n/n, you know you can always tell me anything, I am not going to judge you, ever.” I noticed that we entered the exit that is going to take us to Seattle.

“Okay, so after my dad died about six years ago my started to go off the deep end. I started to rebel her rules in hopes that I would get the attention that I needed from her. “I pause to breathe before continuing, “however, nothing seemed to work. She became so wrapped up in drugs and her boyfriends that she couldn’t even remember my birthday the last two years. At sixteen I was crying alone in my bedroom. By my seventeenth I was in my friend's basement getting tattoos hoping my mom would notice that I was growing up without her. The only thing I got when I got home was an ass whooping and a plane ticket to Washington. I am kind of glad that I was sent away in some sick since because it led me to you and at this point, I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” I state looking at the hands in my lap trying to ignore the sting in my eyes. I was so focused that I didn’t even notice that he parked the truck.

He gently lifts my chin up to look into my misty eyes, “Thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me, y/n you are never going to have to feel that way again. You are surrounded by so many people who love and care about you. We notice you, and we are not going to forget another birthday of yours ever; Babes you are not alone anymore I promise.”

Tears start to slip out of my eyes that I couldn’t notice the tears that are clouding Paul’s eyes. I unbuckle my seat beat and scoot over to Paul’s warm welcoming body. I hug him tightly, “thank you.” I feel his arms tighten around me as I cry into his neck, soaking the shoulder of his tee shirt.

“Hey little love it is okay, no more tears; you said something about tattoos, may I see them?” Paul carefully removes my face from his neck and gently wipes the last of my tears.

With a small smile I pull away to take of my cardigan, “you can see one of them, it is actually kind of ironic.” I take off the ace bandage that covers my forearm when I am at school. “I cover it when I am at school.” After my forearm is free, I gently push it towards Paul.

“Is that...a wolf,” he asks gently tracing it.

“Yes, it is. I let my friend Eric practice on me and I must say it hurt and I am lucky it came out as good as it did.”

“Was this his very first piece.”

“No, the tattoo that is on my hip is the very first one ever.” I state with a nod.

“You let him see you hip.” He asks with a bit of joking jealously

“Paul I was I crop top,” I laugh, “It was not even like that, he has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, well could I see it.” he asks wiggling his eyebrows slightly.”

“Maybe one day,” I tease back, “now let’s go play some Ski Ball!” I exclaim before getting out of the truck.

#paul lahote imagine #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote fluff #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight drabble #twilight x reader #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack imagines #wolf pack drabble

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Unlikely Allies (1/?)

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: Y/N is the Telemarine Princess. She’s devoted to her family, including her uncle Miraz, who’s keeping many secrets from her. When her aunt gives birth to her cousin, her brother runs away, leaving Y/N lost...

Masterlist

Y/N

"Princess Y/N?" A faint voice appears in my dream. "Princess!"

I wake up yawning and stretching out my limbs. I whine, what time is it? "Yes, what is it?" I grumble, rolling onto my side.

"Your Royal Highness," the servant greets as they enter my room and I assume they bow. "It's your aunt, she's given birth!"

I fly up from my laid position and immediately climb out of bed. "Take me there at once!"

My maid rushes me to my aunt and uncle's bed-chamber. It's the early hours of the morning, but I don't care! A cousin! Finally! People travel in and out of the room as I turn the corner. Lord Glozelle stands outside the door, guarding it.

He bows his head as I pass, "Your Royal Highness."

I enter the chaotic room, utterly gleaming. A circle of people surrounds the bed, chatter high.

"Auntie?" I make myself known.

The crowd parts, allowing me a path. My aunt lays in her bed, holding my baby cousin. My uncle is beside her, smiling ear to ear as he stares down at the baby.

My aunt looks up at me with a bright smile and waves me over. "Y/N! Come!"

I hurry over to her side, settling down on the edge of their bed. The little boy is wrapped securely in a gray blanket.

"Your cousin, a boy!" My uncle tells me, overjoyed.

My aunt extends her arms out to me, handing me the child. He's utterly precious. The true Telemarine black hair is already on his tiny head.

"Hello! You're so handsome!" I greet him, allowing his small hand to wrap around my finger.

"Y/N, your aunt and I were talking," Uncle begins, glancing between me and his wife. "We would like you to be the Godmother."

My eyes grow wide. "Truly?"

"It would be our pleasure," Auntie giggles, placing her hand over mine.

"I would be honored!" I laugh breathlessly. "Thank you, Uncle! Auntie!"

Suddenly, fireworks erupt outside, signaling the start of the celebration. "A son! A son! Lady Prunaprismia has given Lord Miraz a son!" One of the guards announces from the tower to the village.

"My Lord!" Lord Glozelle barges in frantically. He notices me and bows swiftly. "Your Royal Highness!"

My uncle sighs, a tad annoyed by the interruption. "Yes, Lord Glozelle?"

"It's Prince Caspian, he's gone!"

"What!" I panic and hand the baby back to my aunt before I rise off the bed. "What do you mean gone?"

"It'll be okay, Y/N. We'll find him," Uncle Miraz tries to assure me calmly as he stands.

"Where is he?" I question the Lord.

"My men say they saw him ride into the forest," Lord Glozelle informs.

"What! No! He'll die!" I rush out. "There are Narnians!"

"Those are mere superstitions, your tutor has plagued your mind!" My uncle laughs. "Narnians are extinct. Come Lord Glozelle, we'll begin the search immediately." My uncle stops at me, before departing. He brings his hand to my cheek gently with a comforting smile. "All will be well, Princess."

I nod, praying he's right.

Satisfied, he departs with his men, the room shrinking in population. I turn my attention to the balcony and the full moon. "Caspian..." I whisper my brother's name, praying he's alright and safe.

________________________________________

A few days later...

I ride toward the soldiers gathered by the river's side. I take notice of their wagons... they're empty, how odd. I dismount my horse and spot my uncle.

"Uncle!" I call over, gaining his attention.

I hurry over to him, Lord Gozelle, and the other members of Lord's council. They appear to be in a rather heated argument.

"Is everything alright?" I question worriedly. "I was on a ride when your men told me to return to the palace."

My uncle forces a convincing smile as he ushers me away from the men privately. "Yes, My Dear, I'm sorry to have frightened you."

"You're not telling me something," I accuse knowingly. "Is it Caspian?"

Caspian

Peter, Susan, and Trumpkin hide behind a pile of lumber, watching as my uncle and his men discover the mess we've left.

"I say we shoot now," Trumpkin suggests.

Susan preps her bow and arrow. That's when I see her, Y/N... my sister.

"Wait!" I place my hand over Susan's arrow.

"What is it?" She asks.

Miraz ushers her away, his hand pressed to her back. Something's wrong.

"My sister..." I mumble.

"You have a sister?" Peter questions.

"Y/N..." I whisper her name in a daze as I watch her. "She's speaking with my uncle."

Out of my peripheral, I see Peter searching for her. I can tell when he does because his features shift from confusion to astonishment.

Y/N

"Return to your ride. Everything is okay, promise!" Uncle Miraz guarantees. "My one request is that you stay out of the forest. Go straight to the palace."

"It's Narnians, isn't it?" I interrogate enthusiastically as he escorts me to my horse. It would be the only reason the guard has been so jittery and anxious. "They do exist! Oh, I knew it!"

"You and your fairytales," he laughs, helping up onto the saddle. "Be on your way, My Dear. I'll return shortly."

"Alright, I'll go tend to your baby for you," I tease him, sending him a wink.

Miraz

As I watch Y/N ride off down the path toward the castle as I asked, Lord Gozelle appears beside me.

"You should tell her," he advises.

"That her brother is a traitor and has brought back our greatest enemy" I shake my head, turning over my shoulder to join the Lords again. "No, it'll destroy her."

"Why do you care for Y/N, but Caspian is dispensable?"

"Y/N would never betray me," I state with utmost certainty. Then, I snicker. "Besides, she's a young lady. She can't take my throne."

Y/N

I ride along the path that lines the forest. The trees blur as my horse gallops swiftly back to the castle. My mind is wandering with curiosity. Miraz tells me that there's nothing to be worried about, but I can't help and question whether this is true. Abruptly, a cloaked figure appears on the path, blocking my way. My horse becomes startled and I'm bucked off, hitting the dirt with a thud. The wind is knocked out of me and I struggle to catch my breath. The cloaked figure hurries over and grabs me, dragging me off the dirt path.

"Get off of me!" I scream, thrashing about. "I am Her Royal Highness Princess Y/N! I will-" Then, the figure removes their hood and my eyes recognize my brother. "Caspian..." I whisper in disbelief.

"Hello Y/N," he grins.

"You're alive!" I fly up from my position, wrapping my arms around him frantically. Then, I fully process the news and pull back. "Wait until Miraz hears! He's been so worried!"

"No, no!" He rushes out. "You mustn't tell him you've seen me! Y/N, he's behind all of this..."

"What? No, no, that's impossible. He-"

"When he learned he had a son, he sent assassins after me! I had to run!" He squeezes my shoulders urgently. "It's all true! Everything Dr. Cornelius taught us, it's all true!"

My eyes grow wide, it can't be... "You mean about Narnians!"

"Yes! Aslan, the Kings, and Queens of Old, it's all-"

"Caspian, you can't just run off!" A male voice interrupts, followed by rushing footsteps.

"What if Miraz..." A girl begins to shout, but as she, a boy, and a dwarf appear from behind the greenery briskly their eyes land on us.

The dark-haired girl looks down at me strangely, as if she already hates me despite just meeting me. She seems like a know-it-all. I don't even know her name. The boy, tall and blonde, peers at me with parted lips. Surprise not easily hidden. The dwarf, well, he glares a lot. Two out of three already hate me. Caspian must be telling the truth, these truly are Narnians.

Caspian glances between the two and myself. "Y/N, this is-"

"Let me guess, High King Peter," I determine, meeting the boy's gaze.

He appears more astonished than before if that's possible. What? Just because I'm a Telemarine doesn't mean I don't know the legends of Narnia.

"You revealed yourself!" The girl huffs. "She's going to run and tell Miraz!"

"Let me guess, Queen Susan," I remark a bit snarky as I help myself off the ground and brush myself down. "I wouldn't tell."

"Are we just supposed to take your word for it?" Peter challenges.

"Miraz may be my uncle, but Caspian is my only brother," I argue.

"And your loyalty lies with your people, right? Am I wrong?" He presses further.

"And you're loyal to the Narnians?" I snicker mockingly. "Last I checked you disappeared for over a thousand years."

"Even the Telemarine Princess agrees with me," the dwarf huffs with a roll of the eyes.

"At least my family didn't murder millions of innocent creatures," he fires back.

I reach for the dagger resting on my belt and point it at the boy. "Take that back!"

Fearless, he steps forward, directly in front of my blade. "Your entire empire is the reason Narnians are almost extinct!"

"Our father wouldn't have harmed any creature!" I scream.

Caspian wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. "Y/N, Y/N, calm down!"

"Enough of this, we have to return to the camp," Peter announces assertively as he begins to march away. "Bring her."

"No, we're not taking her with us!" Susan shouts.

"We have to!" Peter argues over his shoulder.

Caspian presses a hand to my back, leading me in the direction Peter is headed.

"What? I'm not going!" I challenge.

"Good!" Susan scoffs.

"You must," Caspian tells me calmly. "You know of us now."

"I rather drop dead," I fire back.

"That can be arranged," Peter grumbles ahead.

"Shall I send you back to wherever you came from?" I threaten the former High King.

He turns over his shoulder with a glare. "Anything to be dimensions away from you."

"Stop it!" Caspian finally breaks, looking back and forth between the two of us. "Please..."

"Miraz will send the Lords after me! It's in your best interest to let me go!" I reason with them.

"Perhaps she's right," Susan uncharacteristically agrees with me. "Caspian, we can see her another time. For now, we have to be smart."

Caspian's clearly torn, an internal battle ensuing in his mind. "What if Miraz finds out we've been together. He may retaliate against you."

I frown, "Miraz would never... he cares about me."

"I'll formulate a plan," Peter interjects, causing my brother and me to look at him. "A few men and I will sneak into the castle in two days time. We'll stage it like a kidnapping to avoid any hostility toward Y/N from your uncle."

"That gives me two days to prepare and learn what I can about what Uncle is planning," I try to convince Caspian.

"Very well, but be careful until then," he practically begs, bringing me into a hug.

"Goodbye Caspian," I mumble against his chest as I part from him. This is harder than I had expected. "Now go! Before any guards ride by!"

He nods and begins to back away. "I'll come back for you!"

Susan and Caspian run off in the opposite direction with Trumpkin. Peter lingers behind for a second, walking backward to follow them. "I'll send messages to you until it's time," he informs me. "Be ready!"

I nod, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of what will happen in two nights. "Yes, alright," I manage to say with my voice shaking.

He nods, satisfied with my response, before jogging off to join his sister and friends. I stand in the woods, alone, utterly dazed and confused. One minute I'm riding home, the next I'm reunited with my brother and learn that Narnians are alive. On top of that, everything about my life that's been concrete, such as my home in the castle and my love of my aunt and uncle are being taken away. My brother or my people? That's the question and I only have two days to figure out an answer.

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @i-hav-no-life @hellomyweirdos @candyheartsandcigarettes @gillybear17 @hauntedphotographybookstaco

#narnia imagine #narnia #narnia fanfiction #caspian x reader #prince caspian #peter pevensie #King Peter the Magnificent #peter x reader #peter #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie

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chrisevansluv · 3 years

Note

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

In Your Hands--Ch. 5 [Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4]

[This whole fic is the second chronological installment of the Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[First Installment] [Ao3 Series]

[CW: Vague mention of abortion, discussions of not-actually-happening spousal abuse, canon typical classism and anti-sex worker rhetoric, very mild emetophobia warning (nothing actually happens)]

She has a single moment for her sleep-slow brain to think; Madam Jin? Why on earth is she here without sending word? Is there an emergency? Has something happened to Jin Zixuan? before He Si’s voice comes again, more frantic, saying, “Oh--Ah, furen, I don’t think--!”

The door flies open with a bang and Yanli jumps, clutching the makeup removing cloth to her chest. All at once, Madam Jin is here, in her room, ashen and wind scattered, sweeping over in a flood of gold and a thick perfume, “Oh Gods, look at you,” she moans despairingly, gathering up Yanli’s free hand in an iron grip. “How far along are you? No, it doesn’t matter--these things can be dealt with when we return to Koi Tower. You,” she snaps, turning to He Si who is hovering anxiously in the doorway, hands at her mouth. “Begin packing her things.”

What? ...What?

He Si shoots her a furtive look before scurrying to her wardrobe. But her voice is held hostage by her fog-slow mind and she can only blink, stunned. It’s being bowled over by an unstoppable wave; Yanli is towed, bewildered and spinning in its undertow, still scrambling to understand. Madam Jin, however, is rolling right along, petting the back of her hand with her soft, sky-frozen fingers. “Oh, you look awful. I’ll have him gutted, I’ll have them all gutted, how could they do this to you? Men,” she spits the word like a curse, her features twisted into a snarl that reminds Yanli so much of her own mother in a temper. “I came as soon as I heard what my brute of a husband had done, but I nearly qi deviated first. You don’t have to worry, A-Li, I’m going to fix this; he is never going to touch you again. Look at me, child, let me see you.” Every line in her face is etched like agony, like fury as she presses her hand to Yanli’s cheek. “Has he hurt you?”

He? Sect Leader Jin? She hasn’t seen him since the wedding.

In fact, she hasn’t seen or heard from Madam Jin herself since before that, during Yanli’s stay at Koi Tower during the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. She hadn’t attended her wedding.

That had hurt her, for she had always been a dear friend of her mother’s and an auntie to Yanli, always taking an interest in her--though she had always assumed some of that had been as a future mother-in-law. She had wondered if Madam Jin was upset with her for how the engagement had gone and if her absence was her showing disapproval. (Yanli had had to shake herself free of that gnawing guilt whenever she thought about this, reminding herself that it was Jin Zixuan who had rejected the engagement and that even if she could somehow be in trouble for marrying A-Yao, she would never regret it.) When she had diffidently asked after Madam Jin’s absence, Sect Leader Jin had merely smiled widely and waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, she’s out traveling, visiting distant relatives and old friends. Socializing. You know how women are.”

Yanli had thought that she had a much better idea of how women were than Sect Leader Jin might, but had smiled politely, bowed, and accepted this.

Now, she watches helplessly as He Si drags a trunk out from a corner and begins layering her robes into it, sneaking frightened looks back at her mistress. “I don’t....” Yanli manages, voice cracked and thin. “Jin-furen, I’m not--I don’t--”

Madam Jin nods, her smile wobbly and proud, as if Yanli is being very brave. “It’s alright, dear. I’m here now. I’m here to take you with me, A-Li, you don’t have to stay here another minute.”

What? As she opens her mouth to protest, to ask what on earth is going on, all that Madam Jin had said finally manages to squeeze itself into her sluggish brain. Cold rushes over her like ice water.

Madam Jin hadn’t known about the marriage. Sect Leader Jin hadn’t told her, he had done it behind her back. She thinks Yanli was forced into this. She thinks A-Yao is hurting her. She thinks she’s rescuing her. The frantic speeding of her heart spins her head, as if the room is revolving around her, her thoughts a jumble. “No, Jin-furen, you don’t--you don’t understand--”

“Shhh, A-Li, I understand more than you know. The way the world uses women is not new to me. You’re not alone in this.”

“No, I--I know that I’m not--”

Madam Jin nods gently, encouragingly, sending the beautiful golden pendant from her hair stick swinging as she strokes Yanli’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Yes, exactly, you’re not. I’m here for you. I will make this right.”

It’s making her head throb, this feeling closing in around her; being surrounded by her familiar floral perfume, being talked to as if she were young and foolish, as if she has no idea what is good for her. She feels herself getting smaller and smaller until she's barely there at all, her voice barely heard. Pitiful. They never say as much, but that's what they must think of her. Pitiful and silly. A child again.

She hadn't even realized how real she has been feeling these days until she finds herself back in this sad little grey box where all she can do is sit and be rescued and planned for. Planned around. She feels the scattered beginnings of her own indignation wilting like unwatered flowers, greying, quieting. The words cowering in her throat. She can feel herself folding as she always has, as she's been taught, to stern women who know better.

She mustn't. Curling her fingers, she grasps Madam Jin’s hand back, willing her to hear and believe her because the story she seems to have written inside her own head sounds too awful to bear. “No...no, Jin-furen, you must understand--I chose him, I agreed, I’m--I’m--”

“Oh, child, I’m not blaming you, there is no way you could have known.”

How many times can she say no and have it fall like insignificant little drops onto a blazing inferno? How many times can it not matter before it’s no use to even speak at all? Trapped between her traitorous, cowardly tongue and the force of nature that is Madam Jin. She tries again anyway. “No, he’s wonderful, he takes care of me--”

But Madam Jin’s eyes have fallen to her wrist and a swell of rage-filled-power rises from her like simmering heat. “Is that what this is?” she hisses, and for all that she looks about to spit sparks, her hands are careful when she cradles Yanli’s hand and pushing her sleeve back to bare the faint bloom of muddy purple that rings the thin skin of her wrist.

The wrist that A-Yao had caught when she had lost her balance during their dance.

She hadn’t even noticed it bruising--it hadn’t hurt, it hadn’t. Her skin has just always been easily bruised, ever since she was a child. The panic is climbing her throat at the way this all seems to be hurtling down a cliffside with the trajectory of a bag of rocks, squeezing it almost as tight as her chest and she has to fight the urge to snatch her wrist back. “Furen, no, he didn’t hurt me--I tripped.”

He Si is frozen, one of Yanli’s gauzy over robes squeezed in shaking hands. Her eyes are darting between them, the ends of her pink ribbons quivering.

Madam Jin is bristling, the ozone tang of her rage on Yanli’s tongue, vibrating her skull like the tongue of a bell. “This is a handprint! A-Li, look at yourself! Look at what he’s done to you! You look like you’re on the verge of death!”

“I’m not, I’m--it’s my own fault, I drank too much yesterday, I pushed myself too hard!” she cries because she knows how she looks when she’s sick and hungover, but it is not her husband’s fault. “He would never--”

But no. Madam Jin’s eyes have darkened to thunderous “Absolutely none of this is your fault, A-Li, do you hear me? None of it.”

“It was an accident! He didn’t mean to--”

“You think no woman has ever thought that of a husband? That she has never blamed herself? There is no such thing as a decent man, A-Li--no less one that’s a bastard whoreson.”

It rings in her ears. Stealing the breath from her parted lips, winding her more utterly than her rage had. A knife in the ribs, clenched in her insides. If these words hurt A-Yao half as badly as this hurts now, Yanli has no idea how he is still living after all these years. They are horrid. As if he is not human. She should have felt angry; instead, she’s just betrayed.

I didn’t know you were like this.

She stares at the contempt for her husband coloring her auntie’s familiar and beloved face, unable to find the words she needs. Madam Jin softens, the press of her power abating as she strokes her hair. It raises ugly goosebumps down the back of her neck, this touch. She hates the way she is crowded close, stroking and coaxing and soothing--hates it in a way she never has before.

“You've always been so filial but there is no way your mother would have allowed this to happen if she were still alive. She would have never wanted this for you, A-Li, you know that.”

More pain. Swimming, nauseating pain because, yes, she knows--her mother would have said such terrible things about her A-Yao. Out of concern and propriety and love but they would have been vicious, just like when she had talked about A-Xian. Worse, even. She’s hearing their echoes now, through time, from Madam Jin, of one mind and memory.

If her mother was still alive, A-Yao would not be her husband. She knows this for a fact.

Madam Jin seems to take her struggling silence as encouragement and continues with new insistence, like she thinks she’s getting through to her.

“And this is not what I would ever want for you either, child, whether you decide to marry my idiot of a son or not. I love you like my own daughter, and you deserve so much more than gutter trash. You don’t have to force yourself to suffer through--”

Sudden, molten rage spurts up from Yanli’s stomach up her spine and to her head until she feels incandescent with it. “He is not trash,” escapes her, low and trembling. Her hands are balled into fists in her lap, despite Madam Jin’s gentle hand around her wrist.

Pity floods Madam Jin’s face. Yanli could scream. “Shh, shhh, shhh, A-Li, it’s alright. Oh, you never could say a cross word about anyone. He can’t hear you. Neither can your brother or that awful Wei Ying. It’s just us. You don’t have to be brave anymore.”

Her pulse is throbbing in her head, her chest, the tips of her fingers, the soles of her feet. “I’m not. A-Yao is kind, he is good, he is--”

“Oh, A-Li, please, don’t you see what Guangshan was doing? It was an insult, him being sent here. He sent you this--this beast instead of taking you in and giving you the protection you deserve and that idiot of a brother of yours accepted and I will never forgive them for it. You were supposed to be--”

A-Yao, Xianxian, and now A-Cheng. No. No more. She will take no more. “Jin-furen,” she says, slowly, staring at the white hills of her clenched knuckles. “Please don’t talk about my husband that way.”

Madam Jin insists, “You don’t want someone like this in your line--he’s probably diseased! Think of your Clan! Think of the children! Your mother tolerated Wei Ying because of his parentage, but she would draw the line at--”

“Jin-furen,” she says, her voice ringing now, raising up her gaze to stare into the woman’s startled eyes. “Please do not ever talk about my husband that way. Or my family.”

Finally, Madam Jin falls into intent silence, watching her from dark circled eyes. As if she’s trying to find a way around her words. Find out how she’s lying or hiding or being bullied into this.

And it makes Yanli burn.

“I love him,” she says with a conviction that sings down through her chest like the Jiang clarity bell that is laid out carefully on the edge of her makeup table, waiting to be worn. Shining.

Because she had been wondering before and is certain now. Because there is no fear or doubt when she says it, because it is as easy as breathing and feels just as true--she loves him, not just because he needs it and deserves it but because he is hers and she is his. And she’s so angry that it’s Madam Jin and not A-Yao who is the first to hear it.

Madam Jin lets out a disbelieving sound through her nose, eyes pitying again. “Oh, A-Li, this isn’t love. Not with someone like him.”

He has never made me feel as small as you are now. And I don’t need to convince you.

Yanli stands, though her head swims and her knees buckle, vision sparkling at the edges with fury and vertigo. Madam Jin also stands, grasping Yanli’s elbows with worry crowding her face when she sways. “Child--”

“Jin-furen, I think you have misunderstood what is going on here. I’m not leaving.” She looks to He Si, who is still by the trunk, watching with huge eyes. “Please put those back.” The maid slowly opens the wardrobe back up without looking away.

“A-Li, be reasonable.” Madam Jin sounds alarmed. “Is it because you are with child? Is that why you’re being so--?”

“I am not.” It is none of her business whether or not they have indulged in their marriage bed or if they ever will. It is absolutely no one’s business at all. This current is coursing through her like a clear river--higher than rage, higher than panic, brighter than the sun. It is fast and her ears ring and she feels flushed and close to collapse but she is finished with this entire conversation. She is the Lady of the Jiang. She is one of Lotus Pier’s hosts. This is her room. She turns her gaze back to Madam Jin, sees her distress and can’t find it in herself to feel guilt. “I thank you for your concern, Jin-furen. But this is a Clan matter.” She keeps her voice chill and polite.

“A-Li, you’re being too kind for your own good.”

“Thank you, furen. I’m not.”

“I’m not going to let you do this to yourself!”

Yanli straightens her spine, lifts her chin, and says with the most arctic voice she can manage without being blatantly rude, “On the contrary, Jin-furen, it is already done. And I have never been so happy.” Before Madam Jin can respond, she continues. “You must be tired from your trip. We will find you a room so that you can recover for your departure tomorrow.”

Madam Jin is standing stiff, staring at her with ill concealed frustration and concern. Then, she announces to the room, “It has been years since I’ve visited Lotus Pier. I will stay a while and make certain that Ziyuan-jie’s home and family are being cared for properly.” Her gaze never leaves Yanli’s face. She looks as though she is planning a kidnapping behind her eyes.

Yanli cannot make her leave; this fury would only go so far when her body is already about to fail and when being obedient and filial were the quenchants of her forging. Madam Jin is her elder and the wife of an allied Sect Leader. And so she merely gives a jerky curtsy and glances aside at He Si. The girl nods and bows, gesturing past herself to the door with a nervous smile. “This way, furen?”

Madam Jin sweeps out and down the hall with stung dignity, head held high. Yanli manages to totter over to the doors on shaky legs to close them, but ends up leaning on one to catch her speeding breath. Her entire face is buzzing, sweat beading at her hairline. There are 2 lotus petals still stirring in the eddies from Madam Jin’s wake in the corridor, their delicate little curves swirling like boats in a breeze. The little things her own auntie had said kept washing over her; the way she had assumed Yanli’s hypothetical pregnancy would have been a problem she had the right to ‘take care of’; the immediate and easy dismissal of Yanli’s truth; insulting her brothers. She feels like throwing up.

The only person she had spoken highly of was who she thinks Yanli is. And within those confines, Yanli finds herself twisting. She has always wanted to be good, to be loved. But not like this, some poor doll in need of a rescue. Not as some prize that had been gifted to the 'wrong man' when all that made her good and whole were her people.

Her people. Madam Jin has just shown herself to no longer be trustworthy enough to be one of them. The severing leaves her watery kneed, but fierce in her conviction. She has lost nearly everything, before. She will never allow herself to even come close again. It is a small price.

“Shijie?”

At Xianxian’s voice, she looks up, finds him striding down the hall, face creased in worry. She manages a weak smile and reaches out when he comes near enough, letting herself lean heavily into his arms with a gust of breath. “Xianxian. I’m alright, I’m just...need to sit down.” Things are wavering, as if they’re underwater, her head pulsing with pain.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Are you sure?” he asks, alarmed as he dabs at her face with his sleeve, bearing her weight as she shuffles back toward her chair. “You look like you’re going to pass out. Here, over here, sit. Was it dinner last night? You don’t usually drink.”

She does sit, more heavily than she would have liked, and closes her eyes as he takes one of her fans from her drawer and crouches before her, wafting cooler air over her face. After a moment to catch her breath, she looks at him and gives a small smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with A-Yao?”

He reaches up with his other sleeve to gently blot her forehead again. “We got back a while ago. Yao-ge told me to find you because you were upset. Did I just pass the reason in the hall? Shall I go chase her out for you?” He gave her his impish smirk, the one that makes her laugh. But she hears the weight of the offer behind the joking.

As gratifying as that might be to her right at this moment, with this indignant anger still gushing through her, she knows better than to let herself get swept up in petty revenge. And she knows A-Xian’s temper. Better not tell him at all how much Madam Jin had upset her. She shakes her head and takes his free hand, holding it in her lap like an anchor as her heart slowly calms. “No...no, I’ll take care of it.” She simply breathes for a moment as she settles back, then pets his cheek when she sees him eyeing her doubtfully.

“Shijieeee,” he whines. “How can I help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong? How can you leave Xianxian in the dark?”

There is no need for anyone else to know the vile things Madam Jin had said. She will get better at this, hammering herself into a shield for them--for all of them. “It’s nothing worth repeating, nosy Xianxian.” As she speaks, she pokes his nose gently and he scrunches it up.

“Was it about Yao-gege?”

He knows her too well. She sighs. “It was.”

It’s beginning to dawn on her how blind she has been to A-Yao’s plight. The way no one from the Jin had so much as written to him in the month or so that they have been married, as far as she knew. The way Jin Guangshan had talked around him during the arrangement of their engagement, as if barely worth mentioning. And now Madam Jin had surely never shown him any kindness, if they had ever met. No mother, and his father’s family disdainful, shoving him out as soon as they gained him.

And so who in the world has A-Yao had to stand with him? No one? No one at all? Where are his sworn brothers, Chifeng-zun and Zewu-jun? Where is Nie Huaisang, if they had been so close, as A-Cheng had claimed? The very thought has her stomach rolling. This is unacceptable. She is going to fix this.

“A-Xian, we’re a family,” she says, fiercely, leaning forward to take his face in her hands. “You, A-Cheng, A-Yao, and I. We are never going to be parted from each other. We’re all we have left in the world. We have to be there for each other.”

He blinks, fan freezing. Then he nods, slowly. “Sure, Shijie. Of course. Always.”

“I’m not ever going to let anyone hurt you.”

His smile flicks on. “Wow, whatever Jin-furen said really got you upset--you sure you don’t want me to kick her out for you? I’ll do it, you know, no problem. You know how I feel about upstart Jin’s annoying you.”

His familiar teasing eases her stinging soul until she smiles again, brushing back one of the wisps of hair that frames his face. “I know. But no. Just...just be kind to A-Yao around her. Be respectful.”

“I’m always respectful!”

Tugging his hair, she says, “Of course, of course, that’s why he was afraid you were going to try to push him in the lake.” When he ducks his head with a sneaking grin, she plucks the fan from his fingers and bops his head with it. “I need you to get my letter writing set for me, can you do that?”

He rises, rubbing the spot as if it had hurt--but he eyes her dubiously. “Shouldn’t you sleep, Shijie? Get some food? I can make you soup!”

Her head was indeed still swirling and pounding, and at the mention of food, it twinges--though she’s not certain if it is with hunger or further nausea. So she shakes her head mournfully, sweeping the fan slowly beneath her chin. “I don’t think my stomach could take the spice of your cooking right now, Xianxian. But I would love it if you brought me some tea when you come back.”

And because he is wonderful he does, a pot of chrysanthemum tea that has clearly been chilled by one of his talismans, because it still tastes fresh, fully steeped, and delightfully cool. He also has added a bowl of lotuses floating in water on the tray he sets before her, presumably from his adventure.

“Did you have fun ‘playing’ with A-Yao?” she asks as she unloads the tray onto her desk.

“Oh that,” he rolls his eyes performatively, collapsing on his back onto her bed. “Yeah, we talked a bit, picked those. But he wouldn’t get in the water, even though it was ridiculously hot. Really, Shijie, your husband has no idea how to play!”

“Well,” she smooths the paper out before her with the slim bars of boxwood, carved in relief with cranes and bamboo--another present from A-Yao. “Then you will just have to be patient and teach him how.”

And she begins to write. Xianxian doesn’t last longer than halfway through her first letter before becoming bored and wandering back out with a cursory, “Call me if you need me, Shijie!” Condensation slowly beads on the teapot and cup beside her, and the water of the lotus bowl sparks amber in the sinking sun through her windows. Even though she has only been conscious a scant few hours of the day, she feels exhaustion through every ounce of her body and brain, sleep calling her back to her bed. But she fights it, lights the lantern on her desk, and keeps writing.

Just as she’s finishing the last letter, the door opens. She brightens and turns, mouth open to greet A-Yao--but it’s He Si, slinking in the door, looking shamefaced. “Furen.”

“Oh, A-Si. How did it go?”

Strangely, the girl's eyes well with tears and she falls to her knees. “Furen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, I panicked, I just--!”

The edge to her voice is sending spikes of pain through the backs of Yanli’s eyes and she winces, putting a hand to her temple. He Si sees and claps a hand over her mouth, eyes huge. “A-Si, it’s fine, truly. I felt badly having left you with her when she was bound to be upset. Are you alright?”

Giving a watery nod, she clambers back up to her feet, wiping at her eyes. “Yes, furen. She just wanted me gone, so I went and organized the reception of her luggage and maids that came later. I meant to be back sooner,” she adds miserably as she begins to unload the abandoned trunk. “Everything the Jin do is so complicated. Is there anything you need? Something I can get you? Medicine?”

“I’m going back to sleep soon, so maybe something for pain, please. When you’re done, you can take these letters to be delivered and...well….” She adds, shyly. “Maybe my husband? I thought you were him, coming in. I thought...he would have returned by now.”

The maid pauses in her hanging of a lavender robe and thinks. “I believe I saw him in his office working as I was coming back. Should I go get him?”

“Oh, no, if he’s busy, I can wait. I was just...I miss him.”

Timidly, He Si offers her a smile. “If I may...you were so brave today, furen. I never would have been able to talk back to Jin-furen like that. Defending your husband’s name….” She sighs, eyes dreamy. “It was so romantic.”

Yanli hides a smile behind her sleeve. “Ah, well....thank you, A-Si. I don’t think you need to be told that what was said in here is not to be spread to anyone else.”

In response, He Si pretends to close a padlock at the corner of her lips and mimes throwing the key over her shoulder. “Not a word, furen.”

The girl had proved herself to be discrete in her service so far. And so a corner of her heart feels placated. But something is starting to tug from the back of her mind, like she has forgotten something or overlooked it. It niggles there, like a fretful worm, even as He Si finishes returning all her displaced clothing and spirits the letters off. It starts to seep in when she strokes down the smooth lotus petals idly with her finger. A-Xian had said that A-Yao had sent him because she was upset. How had he known? And shouldn’t he have visited her before now, since he had been so worried?

Lotus petals...there had been lotus petals just like these on the floor outside of her room. It was not unheard of, on some windy days, but these had been fresh, as fresh as these very flowers on her desk....Oh. Oh no. Worry clutches her stomach in its sick claws and she hides her face in her hands with a low groan. Her stupid, slow mind. She had just said she would fix A-Yao’s loneliness but then had left him to it without knowing. How much had he heard? Or how little? He Si hadn’t mentioned seeing him in the hall when she left with Madam Jin--had he gone before her declaration? Had he only heard her half hearted attempts of defending before she got her proverbial feet underneath her? Just her horrible, stunned silence?

No wonder he isn’t here with his poor, tender heart. It might just be crushed in his chest with how poorly she had managed to defend him. She hastily tucks her feet into slippers and totters out.

The walk to his office is thankfully fairly short, if dizzying. Two passing servants hurry to support her elbows when they see her hesitating at the courtyard entrance, where there are no more walls to support her. She releases them just outside his door, where she can peer around the crack. At this, she scolds herself for being so childish and cowardly--but she needs to know how to approach. A-Yao is slippery when he’s hurting and she wants him to actually hear what she has to say.

In the warm lantern light of his office, he is stoic and straight backed, reading something on the desk while he himself is unreadable. His eyes are dark, his mouth a straight line. Hidden tension. He doesn’t look shattered and betrayed. But then, he never does. If he has truly heard all that she thinks he has, she would have almost (almost) preferred to find him bereft, to fully see the depth of what sort of devastation had been brought to her love so she can soothe it all. She knocks uncertainly, sees him raise his head, face unchanging. “Come in.”

When she opens the door, he smiles--and for a moment, hope pokes its little head up. Maybe he hadn’t been there at all, maybe she’s mistaken and he had been protected from Madam Jin’s vitriol.

But no. That smile is empty, just like his eyes. There is no warmth, no blooming before her as there has been. He is hiding. He opens his mouth to say something, but she blurts out first, “I’m so sorry, A-Yao.”

He blinks, closes his mouth and settles back, as if curious. “Whatever for?”

“For what you heard.”

That smile twitches at the corner, briefly and she can almost see him weighing the option of pretending, of asking what she means. Instead, the smile widens into dimples and he shakes his head, as if rueful. “I’m the one who should apologize. I never meant to eavesdrop, I was returning after my outing with Wei Wuxian and I happened to have abysmal timing. I promise that I don’t make a habit of listening outside of doors, I would hate for you to think that of me--”

Her heart aches. “A-Yao--”

Doggedly, he continues, smile unwavering. “How are you feeling? I’m surprised to see you up, you said you would sleep most of the day.”

“I did, I just...I had to come and see you.”

“Do you need anything? I can send someone to stand watch by your door all night in case you do. You would only have to call them in.”

That made it sound like he wasn’t planning to come to bed at all. This morning he had to be pushed to leave her side. Is he mistrusting her? Does he think he is unwanted? Is he isolating himself? “No, A-Si is bringing me something that will help me sleep. A-Yao, I need to know, are you alright?”

“Perfectly. Do we know how long we will be accommodating Jin-furen?”

“I...no, hopefully it’s not very long.”

“I shall have to tell the kitchens to make some Lanling delicacies, then.”

“A-Yao…” Her declaration is laying on her tongue, heavy, wanting to be given to him like a treasure. But she sees his shiny eyes and his shiny smile and the way he is doing his deft little flicks of conversation away from himself. Knows that he would probably take it as pity or placation and not truth. He will not believe that she loves him if she tells him now. “How much did you hear?”

“I feel terrible even mentioning it, Jiang-furen, it was a lapse in judgement.”

A pang in her chest, right where the knowledge of love had tolled earlier and even though it is still almost stiflingly warm, even after sun down, she suddenly feels very cold and alone. “Don’t,” she says, softly. She manages to kneel before his desk (he had tensed to rise, to help her, she had seen it) and takes one of his hands where they are placed just so on the desk before him. “Don’t leave.”

He blinks, some of that shell shifting in surprise. “I would never.”

“Don’t pull back like that. Please. I’m A-Li.” She lifts his hand, puts his palm to her cheek. “I’m not Jiang-furen. You know that.”

He is quiet, face...held. Held on, held together. Considering. “A-Li,” he repeats her, not quite a question, not quite a confirmation. His fingertips shift, flexing slightly against her cheek, his thumb gentle at the corner of her eye.

“Yes. A-Li. I want...I want to know how much you heard so I can know how much to explain, I….”

Something flickers in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain,” he says, voice low. “I shouldn’t have listened. It was a private conversation.”

“That’s not at all what I’m worried about.”

“...Then what are you worried about?”

“I...that you have been hurt. That you feel like you somehow need to stay away from me. Because you don’t and--and I don’t want you to.”

He is silent, dark eyes completely opaque in the glow of the lantern light. But his mouth has thinned. Has she struck something? Yanli grasps at this like someone drowning. “A-Yao, what she said was horrible and she is wrong. I don’t agree with a single word. You’re not...I can’t even repeat what she said, but you’re not any of those things. And I never--I never meant to be silent, I just….I’m not good with words and when I’m tired like this...I get...foggy.” Her tongue feels slippery and out of control, like she’s trying to shove the words out as quickly as she can, to get them into this sliver that has opened in him before it closes again. “I don’t know when you left. Did you hear me say that I’ve never been so happy? Did you hear that--” It’s sliding around her mouth, bumping her teeth because she wants him to have it, to be able to hold it. “I said I love you. I love you, A-Yao.” It spills.

And he freezes.

And she knows it’s a mistake.

He smiles with dimples. Closes. Whatever part of him had been listening and believing her was gone, retreating entirely. He turns his hand from her cheek, drawing hers down to the table to squeeze and release. “It’s alright, A-Li. I’m not upset. You don’t have to do that.”

Lie, lie, and lie. “A-Yao, I mean it,” she whispers desperately around the lump in her throat, her fingers in an artless tangle across whatever missives he was reading. “I do.”

His smile widens and his eyes do not join it, over bright and frozen. He swallows and says nothing. Tears crowd her eyes, hot, blurring. She swipes uselessly at them with her sleeve. It’s not that she’s hurt by his reaction. She doesn’t blame him at all. It’s not that she thinks he doesn’t care for her. It’s not rejection, they have both come too far and shared too much for her to believe that, even if she might feel its blade.

It’s just that it’s so much at once; having a horrible pain day and Madam Jin and A-Yao hurt and she can’t take it back and give it to him at the right time and she’s so tired. She had first said it in anger, and now desperation. This isn’t at all what she had wanted.

She’s doing it again. Never enough at the right time to protect those she loves. Never able to voice what was needed. She should have been able to prevent this. His hands are fists in his lap and his lips have whitened, smile now a sick thing that isn’t even trying to be convincing as he stares at the table. “A-Li--” he says in a croak and she has to save him, he has been hurt too much for today.

So she talks over him, trying to school her breath not to catch. “D-do you think you’ll be coming to bed tonight?”

“I have...work.”

Nodding, she begins to push herself up to her feet with great difficulty, now that her legs are pins and water. He’s up in an instant beside her, looking concerned, but the way that he hesitates before touching her breaks her heart--so she reaches out and takes his hand. It’s a moment before she steadies, leaning against his chest and it strikes her again just how nice and warm he smells. She wishes he would come and let her snuggle up to him to sleep. She wishes he had never heard such horrible things.

Does she beg him to stay? Or does she let him come in his own time?

“Will you walk me back?” Yanli asks in a small voice. “I don’t think I can make it on my own...my knees….”

“...Of course.”

The walk back to her room is just as slow as the walk from it. Yanli wishes that it was anything like the lovely drunken stroll they had had the night before--when she had laughed at the stars and basked in his affection. He’s closed up tight, now, and she doesn’t know if she will ever be able to pry him out of his shell again. She has to believe that she can. That his fragile trust wasn’t irreparably broken. All she can do is stand with open arms and hope he knows it’s safe to return to them.

He supports her to their bed and helps her sit. And he pauses, gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips, and for a breathless, hopeful moment, she waits. And then he bows--not a full salute, but an inclining of his head, his hands fisted in his robes. “Goodnight, A-Li.”

Her heart drops down into mush. “Goodnight, A-Yao.”

She will not push him before he’s ready. She can wait until he trusts her words again and she will tell him as many times as he needs. They have time.

They have time.

“A-Yao?”

He pauses at the door, head turning until she can see a sliver of his profile, still and closed.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll miss you.”

His fingers scrunch up in his dark blue sleeve, the corners of his lip pulling down. But he ducks his head wordlessly and disappears around the doorframe.

Luckily, He Si returns with her pain medicine only minutes after A-Yao has left, because her legs and head are throbbing. Luckier still that the girl seems to have the good sense to not ask why she’s desperately and unsuccessfully stifling tears.

#IT IS COMPLETE #Trauma trauma everywhere and not a healthy coping mechanism in sight #Things were rolling along so smoothly up until now too #peony to lotus #my stuff #my fic #yaoli #Yanli: oh no this person's actions are as good as my fault because I didn't know how to stop them and they hurt my loved ones :(((#JGY: :) [mouth closed screaming]#Also this fic WILL go back to fluffier pastures with some emotional h/c pretty soon--I'm not about wallowing in misunderstanding #They each have trauma and unhealthy tendencies to work out but it's not going to be an agonizingly long time promise

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littlemixnet · 3 years

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Jade Thirlwall on Little Mix babies, learning the art of self-love & her first foray into the world of beauty.

As she releases an astrology-inspired eyeshadow palette with Beauty Bay. “I suppose I've got quite a hectic life – or had quite a hectic life, before lockdown," Jade reflects as we chat on the phone one (surprisingly) chilly end-of-September morning. “But lockdown gave everyone a chance to reflect and think about their priorities – and so I’ve come out of that experience with even more of a drive and more of an ambition to achieve all of the things that I want.” Outside of music? For 28-year-old Jade Thirlwall – one third of record-breaking girl band Little Mix – making moves in the beauty industry sits high on that list of priorities. “Whenever we do videos, I’m always the one that sends mood boards to the makeup artist and I’m like, ‘Ohhh we should try this look and we should do this eye,'" she laughs. So teaming up with Beauty Bay to release a 42-pan eyeshadow palette inspired by her passion for crystals, spirituality and astrology (who knew?) seemed like a natural step. "I knew that together we could create my dream palette, something which my fans can use to create out of this world of lewks.” Speaking from her London apartment, Jade is relaxed, open and oozing with passion – for her life in Little Mix, her personal life and her upcoming beauty ventures alike. And not to mention: very happy the weather is turning, so she can roll-out her autumn-appropriate palette on post-lockdown nights out, pronto. “I’m a Northern winter girl. I like the cold. I like feeling snuggly. Yeah. Summer is not my vibe to be honest.” I love beauty – always have done from a very early age. This is a bit of a throwback, but I did a makeup course at college back in the day, so I’ve always had a love for makeup throughout the years. I think Little Mix have tried every single thing you can think of when it comes to different looks and trends. I think it’s known amongst my fans particularly that I love experimenting with colour. And I love the whole glam of it all and all the different eyeshadows. Every time I do a shoot or a video it’s a chance to do a different look – and I’m very versatile when it comes to that. So yeah, it felt like once me and Beauty Bay started working together, they are known for doing the best palettes, so it seemed right. Over the past couple of years especially, me and the girls have started delving into more of the things that we’re individually passionate about or into whilst working together, and it has been really lovely. We’re obviously really supportive of each other’s ventures, and I suppose it gives the fans more of a chance to see what we’re into ourselves. And it gives people that don’t really know a lot about Little Mix or about us individually, it gives those people a chance to be like oh, actually… so Jade is into this sort of thing and Leigh likes this sort of thing and Perrie is into that and… yeah. It has been lovely, and I suppose the last sort of year and a half has given us all a chance to reflect and think about the things we want to do on our own as well as in a group. I’m at a point now in my life that I’m definitely so comfortable in my own skin. I know exactly what works for me. I’m not afraid to try new things and experiment with colour and stuff like that. I think as someone who loves art and stuff in general as well it just sort of lends itself well. It's an art form to me, makeup, and expressing yourself that way is really amazing. So it felt really right [to collaborate on an eyeshadow palette with Beauty Bay]. I suppose lockdown – it has given everyone a chance to gain a better perspective of all the things that they're into. The best version of myself in terms of makeup is just elevating my natural beauty. I think everyone should do that! I think when I first started out in Little Mix and as a teenager, makeup was worn as a mask to cover who I really was, if that makes sense. And as I’ve got older, I’ve realised that it isn’t a mask; makeup is more of an expression of who you actually are, and it’s not to cover yourself up. It’s to elevate yourself. And so, now, whenever I do a look, I don’t tend to cake it on as much as I used to. I do things that accentuate my features already and don’t try and hide it. I think my go-to makeup on a night out or something is just a classic bronze-y beautiful eye. That’s my go-to because it suits my skin tone and I feel like nobody can go wrong with a lovely golden bronze-y eye. And that’s definitely in the palette. I think this palette was an opportunity to show everyone a bit more about myself that may be they didn’t know – like my love for crystals and healing crystals; my spirituality which is definitely something I’ve become more and more passionate about over the past few years. I needed something that kept me grounded and kept me well, mentally and physically. And so, spirituality became a part of that and I’m obsessed with crystals. My mam is obsessed with crystals and so that was one of the first thoughts when making the palette was incorporating all of that. And so, that’s kind of the original inspiration. I feel like the palette – it was important for me to have something for everyone, because I’m well aware that some people don’t like experimenting too much or some people love having loads of fun. So when I agreed to do this with Beauty Bay, I wanted to make sure it catered to every kind of person and every different skin tone. No matter how much you want to be adventurous or not, it’s all in there. I always have crystals with me wherever I am. Certain ones are catered to certain aspects of your life or what you need in that moment. I’ve labelled a couple of shades in the palette after my favourite ones – tourmaline is my favourite, which wards off any negativity. I think no matter how much people believe in it or not, just from a psychological perspective, for me, it’s all about grounding yourself. I think it’s really important to get rid of any negative energy and constantly keep the positive coming in. I suppose I don’t really have a specific religion so I use that as a means to believe in something greater than me and that works for me. There have definitely been a lot of changes in my life recently. A lot has happened. Obviously me and the girls are a three – two of the girls have just had babies so there's been a lot of change in my life. I’ve met someone, fallen in love, and all of that soppy stuff, so – yeah! It definitely feels like, more than ever, a lot has been happening all at once. But it’s so exciting and as we’ve said before, lockdown gave everyone a chance to reflect and think about their priorities and think about things they really want to focus on. I’ve come out of that experience with even more of a drive and more of an ambition to achieve all of the things that I want to achieve and be there more for my family and friends – and obviously go out more and wear more makeup! 'Cos I’ve spent a year and a half in the flat with nothing on and lounging around so it has been nice to start glamming up again. The other girls are loving being new mums, honestly they’ve taken to it so well. I always knew they’d be great mams, I went to see Leigh last week and met the twins who are so beautiful, they just slept the whole time – but you know what, it was so weird because all I’ve ever known is being round the girls and it being us and just us. And for the first time it's actually dawning on us that they’ve had children – actually seeing them there in front of us, like they’re real; it wasn’t a prop. I feel like because of all the music videos we’ve been doing with them pregnant, I don’t know why but in my head I kind of just didn’t think it was real or like – every time we’d been doing a music video we’d base it around their pregnancies, so every character we’d play in a music video would revolve around them being pregnant as well so it was almost like a fun little act that we were doing. So seeing Leigh and seeing the babies was like, “Oh, they’re here and they’re perfect and you’re a mum now and you’ve got to do this.” But I’m so proud of them and they smashed the pregnancies. They were absolute Queens, working hard – and they had each other which I suppose really helped them. It’s amazing. I am hoping to see Perrie soon and be the best Auntie I can be. I’ve never thought about comparing myself - it’s not me, it’s everybody else. It’s other people around me that try and put that pressure on me, I don’t know if being in a group dynamic has may be meant that I’ve got used to comparison and so it doesn’t effect me as much. Everyone’s in different places in their life and sometimes it’s assumed that I should feel, ‘cos I’m a woman, that I’m behind and I should feel a certain type of way that I’m not at that point in my life yet… But I’m so unbelievably proud of where I am at in my life and what I’ve achieved and my career. I’ve got an amazing boyfriend, I’ve got amazing friends and family, and I’m a businesswoman –why would I feel left out?! But it's interesting… like every interview it gets asked like “Are you feeling broody?”, and I’m like “No, hun! Are you?! Do you want me to ask you if you want to have a child or children?". Like, it’s quite a personal question, isn’t it? So it has felt a bit invasive at times… I think that everyone moves at different paces and I’m happy with mine. If my beauty cabinet was on fire, there are three things I'd save. Obviously I’m going to say the palette because I’ve put far too much work into that to let it burn, so that has got to come with us. I feel so proud looking at it – when I see Jade on top of it and I open it and it’s all shades that I’ve named and it’s all colours that I like – there’s no way I’m letting that go up in flames. So that’s coming with us. Then I’d say maybe just a classic nude lip, I’d have to grab. Because I feel like if you’re having a no makeup day, as long as you’ve got a bit of a nude lip on and nothing else, you’re sorted – do you know what I mean? And then finally… third product… may be a brow brush? Which I never thought I’d say but brows are so big now aren’t they, hun? They’re a priority. As long as they’re brushed up and they’re all in the right place then we’re good. X-Factor Jade would've saved three very different makeup products. A fuchsia pink lip, a massive lash… and, what else… brows just weren’t a thing to me then it’s so wild to me like the change in trends and stuff… maybe a lip gloss or something? But I mean, back then, especially for us girls, I think makeup artists got so excited at the thought of a new girl band that anything went. It was just throw anything on our faces and hope for the best at that point. It was a hot mess. But it was also of that time, like pop stars were really doing the most – like you had Katy Perry… it was all really colourful wasn’t it? Nicki Minaj… all these artists who were doing like really bright bold makeup looks and the eye colour would be very different to the lip… and y’know we’d have feathers on our eyelashes. It really was throwing the kitchen sink in so we’ve definitely learnt to mellow down over the years for sure. In ten years time, I’d like to still be performing with the girls. We’ll be doing something together. I’ll have built more of my empire. Maybe more beauty things and more other things I’m into like art and my businesses up North. As it stands, every year I get older I get more confident in myself so I’d like to imagine in ten years time I’ll be at a place where literally no body is going to affect me when it comes to self-love. And maybe I’d be helping to support another girl band by that point as well. It’s getting a bit lonely out here. We need more. So, yeah – I’ll be helping flying the flag there, I suppose.

#jade thirlwall #jt: beauty bay #article #4oct21

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alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

lame

08.

where do we go from here

“Dorms, huh?”

“Yes,” nodded the green-haired boy, staring at his drink – affogato that you prepared. “it’s to ensure the safety of the students tenfold, considering the recent events.”

Nodding, eyes watched the scars on Izuku’s gentle hands – from when he was trying to figure out his quirk, trailing up to the burn he keeps hidden on his left arm – one caused by someone.

“I can imagine Auntie Inko wasn’t overboard with the idea?”

Izuku shifted in his seat, fingers stirring the straw of his drink. “She wanted me to transfer, because of how much I’ve been through…”

“I can’t blame her,” you nod again – there was USJ, and then there was this. “then again, it was something you couldn’t control and not really the school’s fault.”

“It’s what I told her, but she was adamant on keeping me safe. She’s a mom, after all.” That made you smile, Auntie Inko was really protective of Izuku ever since Uncle Hisashi worked abroad.

“A-Also, A-All Might convinced her,”

(E/c) eyes widened. “W-Wow…”

The All Might was at Izuku’s? Informing Auntie Inko of the dorm system and convincing her to have his apprentice stay at UA?

Izuku must be that special for the Symbol of Peace, his biggest idol, to keep him in UA.

“That’s amazing, Izuku.” Scoffing, you broke into an easy grin. “Isn’t that great, you get to stay in UA, got convinced to stay by the All Might, and you still have a chance to live his legacy.”

“(N-Nickname)!” With your praises, red flushes his cheeks and his arms flounder in the air, much to your amusement, before they ended up wrapped around his head protectively.

Everything changing again, huh?

With the dorms, students of UA will be granted and ensured of their safety as they’ll be living within the school’s premise. Really, they were doing so much just to give their students, future heroes, the very best that they deserve.

Still, it would be kind of lonely to have Izuku away.

Carmine eyes suddenly crossed your mind. The soft look on his face. The smell of burnt sugar. His warm rough hands.

“Neh, Izuku,” arms stretched out, head dropping down, your voice was quiet. “how is he?”

Drink long gone, he swallowed the sweet concoction down his throat, relishing in its sweetness and bitterness. He studied you for a bit, noting the glint in your eyes, how it was much different from before whenever Kacchan brought up.

Tapping his fingers, he carefully shared. “For starters, he’s safe. But somehow, he’s the same as ever.” Fingers twitched slightly at that, curling in slowly. “That much I can tell.” Brows furrowing slightly, especially when you recalled the relief in those carmine eyes, with something else.

The League of Villains.

They kidnapped Bakugou because he was top of their class, an easy target to play with considering his rather volatile streak that might bode well with villains.

“League of Villains,” you try, testing the weight of the villain group in your mouth. Izuku fell silent.

You didn’t like it. It felt dangerous, bitter, terrifying-

“I-It’s about your parents…”

Releasing a shuddering breath, you slumped into the table, forcing the numbing thoughts away. That is until a hand wrapped over yours, giving a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back, as thanks.

“(Nickname),” at the call of your name, you look up, meeting gentle green – brighter than emeralds, opals, more soothing that viridian or moss. “when you get the chance, talk to Kacchan. Okay?”

Carmine eyes crossed your mind again, the shocked expression turning gentle. Burnt sugar filling your senses. The fluttering beating of his heart.

“Little did you know, I’ve already had one.”

He hummed. “Yes, but you know what I’m talking about.” He says kindly, almost teasingly. You rolled your eyes at that.

“By the way,” recovering, you sat up, hands still in his. “you’re currently working on your ultimate move, right?” he nods “Well, need some help with that?”

Puzzled, it took about a few seconds until the questions sank. “Y-You don’t mean…!?”

Giggling, toothily grinning at your best friend, your eyes flashed yellow. “I might not look like much, but at least I can give a few pointers and wisdom. Also, I hope you’re okay with extra hours- “

“Of course! I’ll be in your care, (Nickname)!” he replies almost immediately, face filled with so much excitement to finally see you use your quirk at its full potential.

Mentally thinking of the days you’re not working, but hey, this was all for a good cause. “Looking forward to it, Izuku~”

Taking a break from work, you felt your phone vibrate, seeing a text from Izuku.

To: (Nickname)

From: Izuku

[image.txt]

I PASSED MY PROVISIONAL LICENSE!!!!!!!!!!!

You couldn’t help the smile breaking on your lips, threatening to split your face in half from sheer joy and pride for your best friend. He did it!

All those days mastering his Shoot Style while dealing with your rather whimsical and unpredictable fighting really paid off!

From: (Nickname)

To: Izuku

Congrats, you!

I’m so fcking proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

Let’s celebrate, okay? Just drop by the café!

You were tempted to ask if Bakugou had passed as well, debating even to give him a text. Fingers tapped lighting through your contacts, scrolling to find his name, staring. Just staring.

Shaking hands fisting against his shirt, nose buried between his shoulder blades, taking in his scent- You locked your phone, exhaling through your nose as you closed your eyes.

“You’re being unfair to him, (Nickname).”

Just then an unknown number called you.

It had been All Might.

All Might.

The Symbol of Peace.

He had called you, urging you to come to the UA campus at the dead of night for something he wouldn’t enclose over the phone. The hero had managed to work things out for your entry into the premise, albeit, discreetly, since it’s past working hours after all.

“So, you’re Young Midoriya’s good friend, yes?” the said hero was tall, so freaking tall! Even in his skeletal form, he loomed over you like a skyscraper, and his voice was commanding, firm, yet kind.

Remembering he had asked you a question, you fumbled for a reply. “A-Ah, yes sir!” Still, to be in his presence was something. Now you understood why Izuku fanboys hard – there were so many emotions to contain!

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Young Midoriya speaks very highly of you.” That made you duck your head, a fond smile on your lips. “It’s clear that it is a bond forged greatly through careful means.”

“That, it is.” It was a rather poetic way of putting it, but yeah.

“With that being said, I’m sure you’re also acquainted with Young Bakugou, right?”

You nearly tripped on your own footing, halting at that, glancing up in question. “Y-Yes…” Carmine eyes, the smell of burnt sugar, warm calloused hands, suddenly filled your senses.

“In the short time that I’ve known them, I’ve also come to an understanding that the boys have a rather complicated relationship,” you gulp, for some reason. “they’re both on equal footing, yet it’s not very evident to both of them. They balance each other out perfectly.” He’s not wrong, you thought, hands curling and uncurling into fists.

“W-What are you trying to say?”

Turning to you, you realized that you reached some sort of building – it was huge, almost spanning the size of USJ! maybe it was a training ground? – the hero’s gaze wasn’t one of All Might’s, his gaze was soft, weary, understanding, guilt, and, dare you say, hopeful?

“Those boys have the makings to be a great hero, are each other’s greatest rivals yet they can be each other’s greatest ally if only pushed right.”

That was an idea you would never have thought of, but one you refused to acknowledge.

Before you could ask, suddenly, your senses went on full blast – (e/c) eyes turning yellow.

Heavy blasts from afar. Devastation followed. Heavy breathing. The smell of fire- no, angered explosions. Fully mapping out the vicinity, you found two presence were at the heart of it all. These heartbeats. Izuku? Bakugou?

“As expected, your senses indeed sharpen at night.”

Confused, angered, you turned to him, yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight. “WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE!?” Their breathing, it was erratic, labored, abnormal, what was happening!?

He could only stare, expression betraying nothing. “I think I need to give the young boys some time to talk before I do it myself.”

“And what am I, some spectator?”

“I’m sure there’re things you would want to say to them as well, Young Yuroichi.”

Was what he said, but walking into the battlefield, having watched two of your childhood friends going out on each other, talking with their fists, kicks, and quirks, leaving bruised and battered, you could only feel one thing – numb.

With the fight over, your two childhood friends sat back on the asphalt ground, weary and exhausted out – physically and emotionally.

“Who else knows?” asked the ash blond, head hanging low with both arms propped against his knees.

“Recovery Girl, the principal, and…”

Apparently, that was your cue to make your presence known.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the two boys raised their heads, eyes widening at the sight of you, in their campus, dead at night, eyes still in its dangerous yellow.

“A-ARE YOU TWO FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

They flinched at the volume of your voice, as though you bellowed it with all the air in your lungs, coming out from the shadows after All Might’s speech, knowing that it wasn’t your place to be there, but after hearing Bakugou’s voice – that was pathetic of him, even the hero hadn’t expected that.

“Y-Young Yoruichi-“

“Don’t,” the hero flinched at your voice, pinning him with your stare “get me started you skeletal excuse of a hero!” you say to him angrily, bitingly, forgetting that this man was the Symbol of Peace, the greatest hero of this generation, the hero who could easily do away with you, and the greatest hero to your two asshole of childhood friends.

“(N-Nickname)…”

Giving him a warning look, deadlier under the moonlight with your yellow eyes shining, Izuku knew better than to gulp and avoid your gaze. You then turned the same look to Bakugou, whose shoulders sagged underneath your gaze, a sense of defeat washing over him. He’s already bad in your book, he might’ve worsened it in this situation.

He was walking on thin ice, treading on it really should he wish to fix it.

“A-Ah, K-Kacchan just wanted to talk s’all, (Nickname)! B-but it ended up…um, uh…” words were failing him, especially when you are at the receiving end. Unamused. Unfazed. Unrelenting. Angered. Not even All Might could help out, too scared to deal with an angry teenager. “…uh…i-it ended with our fists….?”

Izuku had been quick to his defense, much to the surprise and annoyance of the blond. But you weren’t having it.

“Stop making excuses for him, Izuku. You’re better than that.” The green-haired boy flinched, hands dropping in defeat. “He should well know to defend himself instead of beating himself down for it, which is a far cry from that proud pompous asshole we’re both familiar with.” The ash blond’s fingers twitched at your words.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly out your nose. “You two haven’t had a proper talk since and you thought of doing it now with your fucking fists and kicks? What’re you, animals!?”

Having watched their fight and taking into account the months they’ve been in UA, seeing their performance during the Sports Festival, and hearing accounts of progress from Izuku, Aizawa-san, and the Bakugous, the two clearly have changed.

After all this time, you still felt so far from the two.

After all this time, it pained you still to see a drift between your best friends.

After all this time, just seeing finally talk to each other – in the shittiest way of their own version, it was all you ever wanted.

After all this time, the only thing you wanted was for them to finally see eye-to-eye.

After all this time, you just wanted the two to be friends again.

Weakly you fell to your knees, arms reaching for both and bringing them to a hug. The two boys were stunned, to say the least.

“I’m so glad.” Tears began to spill, your hold tightening. “I was worried about you two so much, you know. You two are selfish, stubborn, and terribly reckless in your own ways, but you two are the strongest persons I know.”

Izuku can be so out of reach sometimes, especially when he’s trying to embody himself as the current One for All user.

Bakugou had always been so far from your reach, but it pains you to know that he had been feeling shitty because he didn’t know just how to deal with his emotions.

It made you feel like the worst friend.

“You have to be more honest with how you’re feeling,”

You say you wanted to support Izuku? Part of the deal was respecting his wishes when it came to a certain ash blond he’s admired next to All Might, the person who was the embodiment of victory for him, someone he’d like to catch up with.

But you let confusing emotions – like a stupid crush and hate, cloud over your judgments.

“I’m sorry if I won’t be able to understand if I’ll have to beat it outta you guys, i-if…” hiccupping, your hold slackened momentarily, before tightening. “I’m sorry if I’m such a horrible friend. I’ll try to do more, be better for you guys. So please, don’t ever forget that…okay?”

“(Nickname)…”

A tentative hand reached out, hesitant as it patted your back. Seeing as you didn’t flinch away, the hand awkwardly rubbed comforting circles as you cried harder.

Seeing this, the green-haired teen smiled, relishing in your hug, the pain from Kacchan’s attacks, and the wisdom from his mentor.

“Okay.”

All Might could only watch three youngsters settling amongst themselves, as all friends should.

“Okay, (Name).”

masterlist • nine

#lame #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki angst fic #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha fic #bnha angst fic #mha #mha x reader #mha fic #mha angst #mha angst fic

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

My Everything - Part Eighteen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst. TW: mentions of past abuse!

Words: 9K

a/n: So, the courtroom stuff is literally like an SVU episode, it’s probably not very accurate. I just wrote what I wanted to happen. If you know more about how courtrooms and prosecutions work, I apologize

Masterpost

“Oh, fuck.”

You were trying to stifle your moans. You and Harry were simply spooning early in the morning, when you innocently adjusted against him. He pressed up against you harder and things just sort of escalated from there. He was fucking you from behind while still in the spooning position. His fingers were rubbing circles into your clit and you had your arm hooked around his head so you could tug at his hair.

You got cleared to have sex a couple of weeks ago, but you hadn’t done anything since Anne had stayed with you to help out. You and Harry had agreed on condoms, not that you were using one now. You didn’t care right this second, it just felt so good.

“Y/N.” Harry groans in the back of your neck.

“I’m so close, don’t stop.” You pant.

You arch back into him as you feel your release coming. Once he knows you’ve ridden it out, he pulls out and pushes you fully onto your stomach. You gasp when you feel his come shoot onto your back and ass. You feel him get off the bed. You look over to the bathroom where he’s going into to grab a rag. He comes back to wipe you clean, even between your folds. Harry leans down and kisses your cheek before bringing the rag back to the bathroom. He gets back on the bed and pulls you to his chest.

“That was incredible.” You breathe. You drape and arm and a leg over him and hold him tight.

“Much needed, that’s for sure.”

“We need to buy some condoms.”

“I got some, I just didn’t wanna kill the vibe by stopping to reach for one.” He chuckles and you look up at him.

“You sound like a teenager.” You laugh. “Although, it was nice to just feel you. Maybe I should just suck it up and get an IUD.” You sigh.

“You don’t need to decide right now.” He kisses your hairline. “I’m really glad Jack’s been staying in his bed, it was nice not being interrupted for a change. As much as I like when he comes in to cuddle, don’t get me wrong.”

“You know what he told me last night? I’m a big boy, Mumma, I’m three now.” You giggle. “He’s been three for three weeks, now he thinks he’s so grown.”

“You know what’s cool? He can form, like, real sentences. Like, I can have a real conversation with him now.”

“It’s great. He’s got a nice personality.”

“Well, he should, we both have great personalities.” He scoffs.

You loved this. Harry could have pillow talk with you and not have to leave for work. You were dreading when he’d start half days at the end of the month. You were being spoiled. He stretches out and groans.

“Alright, I’m gonna get up and make sure the pool’s good to go. You wanna get Jack started?”

“No, I wanna stay snuggled up with you.” You bury your head in his chest.

He rolls you both over so you’re pinned down underneath him. It looks like he’s about to say something, but you hear Jessica cry over the baby monitor. You both sigh heavily.

“Okay, let’s start the day.” You say.

You both put swim suits on and do your morning routines before going to check on the kids. Harry slips downstairs to get the pool ready. You go into Jessica’s room first.

“Good morning, angel.” You coo. “I know, you’re hungry. Don’t worry, after I change you I’m gonna get you your bubby.”

“Mumma?” Jack comes into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning, my love.” You get Jessica on the changing table and undress her. “Could you go put on your swim trunks for me? And then I’ll help you get washed up.”

“We’re going swimming?!” He perks up.

“That’s right. Daddy’s getting the pool all cleaned up as we speak. Of course we’ll need to eat breakfast first and make sure we go potty before we go in.” You look at him. “I don’t want another poopy emergency.”

“Okay!”

He runs back into his room to get changed. You get Jessica in a little onesie and make sure to get plenty of sunscreen on her. You strap her to your chest to so you can walk around easier. You find a little bucket hat to put over her head too. You help Jack brush his teeth and get sunscreen on him as well. When you get downstairs, Harry hands you a bubby for Jessica, and gets Jack a bowl of cereal.

“Is the pool all clean, Daddy?”

“You bet! Nice and warm out there today too.”

“Mumma, you’re gonna swim?”

“I’m going to sit in my pool float with the baby for a bit.”

“You never swim.” He pouts.

“Mummy’s don’t like to swim, Jack. The water’s too cold for ‘em.” Harry smirks at you and you glare at him.

“That’s a dumb stereotype. I swim when we go to the beach.”

“When was the last time we even went?”

“No idea…isn’t that sad?” You think for a moment. “Why don’t we go this weekend? We could see what Sarah and Niall are doing.”

“Won’t it be a lot to bring the baby?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “We have one of those little tents, we’ll keep her in the shade. Jack, would you like to go to the beach this weekend?”

“Yes! We can make a sandcastle!”

“That’s right!”

After waiting for Jack to use the bathroom, you all head outside to the pool. Harry goes in with Jack at first and plays with the various pool toys they had gotten. You get onto your float with Jessica and cradle her to your chest.

“Mumma, look! I can swim to the bottom!” You watch as he dives under the water and then shoots back up. “Did you see?!”

“I did, well done!” You smile.

“Daddy, will you throw me up?”

“Yup.”

“Harry, if you splash me, I swear to god…”

“Cover her head then, he makes a pretty big splash, babe.”

Harry picks Jack up and throws him in the air. He tucks his knees in to almost do a cannon ball when he comes back down. He makes a decent splash, but you manage to keep Jessica dry.

“Again, again!”

“Only once more, I don’t want you getting dizzy.” Harry laughs, and throws him in the air again.

Jessica starts crying a little while later so you take her inside to change and feed her. She fell right back asleep once she burped. You set her up in her stroller outside in the shade. You didn’t need to hold onto her every two seconds, after all.

“Mumma, can Buster come in the pool?”

You look down at your dog, and see he’s perfectly content sitting next to the stroller.

“No, honey, he’s a little too big for this kind of pool. He can really only swim at Uncle Niall and Auntie Sarah’s.”

You climb back into the water and dive in. It felt good to really swim again. You come back up and shake your hair out.

“Good thing I bought that chlorine shampoo.” You get the elastic out of your hair and dunk your head again.

“Yeah, we’ll have to scrub those curls out later, huh, Jack?” Harry says to him.

“No, I hate it!” He pouts.

“That’s a pretty strong word.” You pout back at him. “You could say you don’t like it instead.”

“I don’t like it.” You pick him up and swim him around with you, which makes him smile big. “This is fun, Mumma.” He snuggles close to you. You give his cheek lots of kisses.

“I think it might almost be nap time.” You whisper to Harry and he nods.

Jack falls asleep in your arms and you hand him over to Harry so he can take him out of the pool. You lay a towel down in the shade and make a little outdoor bed for Jack. Harry lays him down and you both smile.

“How cute is that?” He whispers.

“Too cute.” You whisper back. “And look at her, sound asleep.”

“Buster’s pooped too.” Harry chuckles. “Want me to get the grill going for lunch?”

“Great idea. I got us some vegan hot dogs and buns.”

“You’re the best. Do we have any actual hot dogs for him?”

“Mhm, they’re in the fridge.”

You and Harry didn’t feel the need to keep Jack on the same diet as you. When he gets older he can decide on if he wants to eat meat or not. Harry gets the grill going, and Jack wakes up right when everything’s done being made. You sit down with Jessica and feed her while Harry helps Jack with his hot dog.

“Let me burp her, I haven’t held her all day.”

“Alright.” You pass the baby to him.

“Hi, little girl.” He burps her and cradles her in his arms.

“Was that a good hot dog, Jack?” You ask your son.

“Yeah! Daddy’s a good cook.”

“He’s a very good cook.” You wink at Harry. “What about me?”

“I like when you cook too.” He gets up from his seat and crawls into your lap. “I like when you’re home with me, Mumma.”

“Me too, baby.”

“Oi, and what about Daddy?” Harry says, a little offended. “She’s home with you anyways.”

“I like when you’re home too, Daddy!” Jack giggles. “Can we take Buster for walk soon?”

“Sure, go inside and put a shirt and your sneakers on. I’ll help you tie them up.” You reach for your cover up and throw it on. “Come on, Buster.” You whistle at him. “Stay with her, we’ll be back.” You kiss his forehead and hers and, go inside.

After your walk, you return with a surprise.

“Daddy! Mumma let us get ice scream from the ice cream man, here!”

“She did?!” Harry was lounging in a chair, using a scrunchie to keep his hair off his face. Jessica was back in the stroller in the shade. “Thank you very much, Mummy.”

“You’re welcome, Daddy.” You sit down and grab another scrunchie to put Jack’s hair up. “There, now you won’t get your hair all sticky.”

“And I’ll look just like Daddy.” Jack smiles and licks his ice cream pop.

“You didn’t get anything for yourself?” Harry frowns.

“Nah.” You shrug. “Don’t need it.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s fine! I have some low fat treats for myself in the freezer.”

Harry rolls his eyes at you and you start chuckling.

“What?”

“Nothing, just, remember how mad you used to get when I would do that to you?”

“Haven’t you learned by now that everything’s okay when I do it?” He smirks.

“Mumma, can we swim again?”

“You have to wait a little bit. You just had all that ice cream after all.”

“Niall called while you were gone, by the way.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, wants to know if we can get a sitter tonight to go out to eat with them. There’s a new seafood place they wanna try.”

“Do we need a sitter? Is it not kid friendly?”

“I asked the same thing.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know if I want a sitter with Jessica just yet…as much as I like ours…” You think for a moment. “I could call my mom.” You grab your phone. “I wouldn’t mind an adult night out.” You call your mom. “Hey, mum.”

“Hi honey! How’s the pool treating you?”

“It’s great! How would you like to come use it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…Harry and I got invited out to dinner tonight. We thought you might like to come babysit. Or I could drive them out to you, whatever’s easier.”

“You know, I’m actually free tonight, I could come over there for a bit. It’ll be good for you to get out for a while.”

“Awesome! Could you be here around five?”

“Sure thing!”

“Thanks, love you!” You hang up and pick Jack up to look at you. “Guess who’s coming to visit later.”

“Who?”

“Mimi!”

“Yay! I love Mimi.”

You kiss his forehead and hold him close to you.

“Great, I’ll tell Niall we’re in.”

“Sex, and a night out! It feels like Christmas.” You giggle as you finish doing your makeup.

“I know! They even said they’d drive. Think they wanna get us drunk.”

He walks into the bathroom to talk with you. You were just getting some lipstick on. You had a beautiful red sundress on along with a sleek high ponytail. You looked gorgeous.

“Jesus, might need to have a quickie before we go.”

“You’re funny.” You smack your lips and boop his nose. “Come on, we need to get back downstairs. Mum probably thinks we’re fucking up here as it is.”

“It was cute watching her help put the kids to bed.”

You both walk downstairs just as Niall and Sarah pull up to the front door.

“Thanks again, mummy, we won’t be out too late.”

“Take your time. I brought my overnight bag, so I’m happy to stay if you kids wanna make it a late one.”

“Thanks!”

Harry hooks an arm around your waist and leads you outside. He opens the door for you and gets in on the other side.

“Hey guys.” You say, leaning to give Sarah and Niall each a kiss on the cheek. Harry does the same. “Thanks for inviting us out.”

“Of course! The school year is officially over! We’re celebrating.” Sarah says. “We’ve been dying to go to this place too.”

“It’s gotten really good reviews.” Niall says. “How are the babies?”

“Good, we had a pool day today. Jack got really excited because I actually swam.” You laugh.

About twenty minutes later, you get to the restaurant. It was nice for a seafood place, you were happy you were sort of dressed up. You’re sat at table for four. The tablecloth was a nice baby blue. Waters and a basket of bread are brought over to you to start with.

“How about a bottle of wine for the table, would that work for everyone?” Niall asks.

“Sure!” You say. “After all, we’re celebrating. Another year down, Sarah.”

“I know! I love this school so much. I started tenure this year too, it’s incredible.”

Niall orders a bottle of red wine for the table while you all look over the menu. Harry was being rather quiet, but he seemed fine. His hand was on your knee, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Harry, what are you thinking?”

“Maybe these broiled scallops? That sounded good.”

“Mm, I might do the same. I can’t remember the last time I had those.”

“Y/N, any news on the trial?” Niall asks.

“Next month…I have to go testify.” You sigh. “There’s so much going on. I guess they have a kid, so if he’s not convicted enough to go to prison, she’s at least fighting for full custody. My testimony along with the other women could help either way.”

“You’re so brave, Y/N…” Sarah says. “I don’t think I’d have the guts to go into a courtroom like that.”

“It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it for some justice.”

A waiter comes over with the wine and pours you all a glass. You all order your dishes and clink your glasses together. Harry’s hand was still on your knee.

“So, Harry, you’re home through the end of June?” Sarah asks.

“Through the first week of July, actually. Isaac and Mariah asked if we could close for the fourth.” He shrugs. “I was perfectly fine with it.”

“And everything’s still going well?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Usually businesses struggle within their first five years, but our numbers get better every year. We’re lucky.”

“I think it’s the location too. The convenience of that park across the street must make a difference.” Niall says.

“Plus we sell other things, so people can come in and buy pictures and frames as well. My social media lady helps a lot too.” He looks at you and winks. You kiss him on the cheek, leaving a nice lipstick mark behind.

“We were thinking of going to the beach Saturday, would you guys wanna join?” You ask Sarah and Niall.

“Sure!” Niall says. “That would be Jessica’s first time at the beach, wouldn’t it?”

“Mhm.” You smile. “We haven’t brought Jack in forever either, thought it might be nice.”

“You know what would be cool once they get a little older? Now that Rachel and Mariah have Ricky, and Seth and Isaac have one on the way, we could all, like, rent a vacation house or something and go on a family vacation.” Sarah Says.

“That would be so much fun!”

“We should just do that for your birthday, but without the kids.” Harry smirks.

“Right, because turning thirty-two is sooo exciting.” You scoff. “Besides, I like the idea of all the kids getting to know each other better. Ricky is so cute too, they really lucked out with that adoption.”

“Yeah, I thought Mariah would’ve wanted a baby, but she seems to be doing just as well with a five year old.” Harry says. “She brings him in sometimes when Rachel can’t be home with him. He loves seeing her in action. Plus, he likes playing with Buster.”

“Wait, I like where Harry’s head is at. You birthday is always the perfect excuse to get away for a weekend in the summer.” Niall says.

“I wouldn’t want to leave them for that long.” You say bluntly. “A night here and there is fine, but a long weekend like that…I just don’t see it. I’d want to bring them, and I know that would get annoying for the two of you.”

“No it wouldn’t.” Sarah says. “Just because we didn’t want kids of our own doesn’t mean we don’t love yours unconditionally.”

“But…tonight, you wanted to have dinner without them…”

“Well, yeah. This is a nice place, plus I could just feel that you two needed a break. You’ve been cooped up. It’s officially summer now, and Auntie Sarah is here to help.” She smiles.

You and Harry get home at a reasonable time so your mom didn’t need to spend the night. You sigh as you slip your shoes off, and start to get undressed. You catch Harry taking his shirt off and smile.

“Could you help me with my zipper?”

He hums his response and comes over to you.

“You got some color today, babe.” He says to you.

“I know, my summer tan is in full swing.” You chuckle.

You step out of your dress and get the rest of your clothes off before grabbing one of his t-shirts to throw on. He strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed.

“Tonight was fun.” You look at him and roll over to fully face him.

“Yeah, good little date night.” He puts his hand on your hip and trails up to your back to give you a little rub. “You looked so pretty in your dress.”

“Thank you. I feel like I’m slowly becoming myself again. The treadmill in the basement has been great.”

“Babe.” He sighs. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn a compliment into something that makes you insecure? I wasn’t even…” He sucks his teeth. “I just said you looked pretty.”

“I know, and I said I feel like my body is going back to normal. You have no idea how hard it is to look in a mirror and barely recognize yourself.” You look down and then meet his eyes again. “I’m not trying to turn this into anything, but I do feel insecure sometimes. You met me when I looked a lot different. I didn’t have as many stretch marks, my skin wasn’t as loose…ugh and it’s so frustrating because I’d do it all over again.” You flop onto your back and cover your eyes with your forearm. Harry moves on top of you to straddle you.

“You would?”

“Yes.” You groan. He moves your arm away so you’ll look at him.

“How many more times?” You feel his length hardening against you.

“As many as we feel like.” You raise your hips slightly to his and he groans. “Within reason, of course.”

“I know you don’t love the changes your body makes, but you’re so sexy when you’re pregnant. Even now, nearly three months after having Jessica, you’re still glowing.” He leans down to kiss you. “I’d put another one in you right now.” He says into your ear and it sends shiver up your spine. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be full of me?”

“Harry.” You breathe and grind your hips up towards his again. “I’m not ready yet, but…maybe soon. I don’t wanna wait another two years like we did with Jack, but we just had her and…”

“I was just trying to, um, say something to get you in the mood, babe.”

“Oh.” You start laughing. “Well, I’m in the mood so go put a condom on.”

“Wow, twice in one day, look at us.” He hops off the bed and rummages through the night stand for the foil packet.

“I know, it’s just like the good old days.”

“I’d still fuck you any second I could if we didn’t have two little roommates to worry about.”

You giggle as he slides the condom on. You lift up slightly to take your shirt off. His hand slides between your legs to make sure that you’re wet. He teases you a little before pushing inside you. Your nails dig into his shoulders. It really was a nice treat having sex twice in one day. When you were younger it would happen all the time, but life got in the way.

“Harry, kiss me.” You pant as he thrusts in and out of you.

His lips meet yours and you grab for his hands. He pins them down by the sides of your head as your fingers intertwine. Your tongues mold together and he swallows every one of your moans.

“Feels so fucking good.” He grunts.

“God, fuck, don’t stop.” He was hitting your g-spot in just the right way. You were close already. “Yes, shit, right there.” You gasp as you come undone under him.

He kisses you before pulling out to flip you over. He pulls your hips up to his so he can slide back in. The sound of his moan is heavenly as he fucks you from behind.

“Y/N.” He pants.

You move your ass back against him to move in sync with his thrusts, and that just about does it for him. He spills into the condom and nearly falls on top of you. He kisses the back of your neck before pulling out. You both use the bathroom to clean up and then get back into bed.

“I feel like we either do it a lot or not at all.” He chuckles, pulling you to his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“But I like having sex with you.” You pout. “I just get so tired.”

“I know, so do I. I like the early morning shags, those are really nice.”

“Mm, yeah, great way to start the day off.” You kiss him one last time before turning over. He turns over with you to hold onto you. It doesn’t take long until you’re both fast asleep.

The day you all went to the beach was absolutely perfect, not a cloud in the sky. Niall helped set up an umbrella to give the kids some shade. Jack fusses when you put sunscreen all over his face, but once it’s done, he’s good to go. He grabs the sand toys and gets to work on his castle. Harry has Jessica nestled to his chest, hat covering her head.

“He has a doctor’s appointment Tuesday.” You tell Harry. “Boosters.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll take him, right?”

“We can’t all go together?”

“No, I’m taking Jessica to visit my dad, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

“Y/N, wanna check out the water with me?” Sarah asks.

“Me too!” Jack perks up.

“Alright.”

You stand up and grab one of Jack’s hands, Sarah grabs the other. Harry and Niall watch as the three of you have fun walking into the water.

“I hate when I have to take them to the doctor.”

“Why?” Niall asks him.

“Because…the nurses always flirt with me, it’s annoying.”

“Oh, boo hoo.” Niall rolls his eyes. “They know you’re married.”

“That’s the annoying part. It’s like they think I would actively cheat on my wife. The receptionist slipped me her number last time I had to take him.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah!” Jessica fiddles for a second, but Harry soothes her. “Yeah.” He says quieter.

“Did you tell, Y/N?”

“No.” He sighs. “We both really like Dr. Philips, and Jack likes her too.”

“Did you say anything to the receptionist?”

“I threw the paper she gave me into the trash right in front of her.”

A few moments later the three of you come back up to your spot.

“Jack, I need to reapply your sunscreen.”

“No! I don’t like it.” He whines.

“You’ll like a sunburn even less, now come here.”

“No! I don’t-“

“Jack.” Harry says sternly. Jack looks at his father and pouts.

“But, Daddy.” He whines.

“I like when mum puts sunscreen on me, why don’t you?” You smile as Harry looks at you. You put some sunscreen in your hands and rub it onto Harry’s face. “See?”

“Okay.” Jack sighs.

Jack lets you put more sunscreen on and then he goes back to his sand toys. You grab a bowl and pour some water into it for Buster.

“There you go, sweetheart.” You pat his head and sit down. “Hand her over.” You grab a bubby from the cooler. Harry passes Jessica over to you so you can feed her.

“Wow, Harry, you really shut that down.” Sarah says.

“He does everything I do if he sees her do it to me, we’ve slowly learned. If I wear a bandana, he has to wear one because he knows she likes when my hair is out of my face. That’s how we got him to eat his veggies too. Total copycat.” He smirks.

“Jack, are you getting hungry?” You ask him as you burp Jessica.

“Yeah!”

He runs over to you and climbs into your lap. You sigh when he gets you all sandy. You look over at Harry.

“I’ll, uh, get his lunch out of the cooler.” He says.

“Thanks.”

“Jack, come sit with me.” Sarah says. “Auntie needs some loving.”

He giggles and goes over to her. Harry hands him his sandwich.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome. Here, honey.” He hands you yours.

“Thank you.” You pucker your lips and he leans down to kiss you.

“Let me hold the baby.” Niall says. You happily hand her over to her uncle.

“Daddy, will you take me swimming?”

“Gotta wait a few minutes after you eat, buddy, but yeah.”

“Think I’m gonna lay out for a bit.” You say and stretch. You lay a towel out and lay on your stomach. “Harry, could you-“

He was already putting sunscreen on you. Jack hops off Sarah and plops down on your bum.

“Oh!”

“Jack.” Harry chuckles. “S’not very nice.” He picks him up off of you. “Let’s go to the loo and then we can go swimming, alright?”

“I’ll come with.” Niall says. He puts Jessica in the shade in her carrier. She was fast asleep. Sarah lays on a towel next to you.

“They certainly keep you both busy, huh?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “But you know me, I like being busy.” You watch them all walk away towards the bathhouse. “You know the other day, we were talking about having another one.”

“Are you serious?! You realize you have an infant right over there.”

“I’m well aware.” You giggle.

“So why would you want to have a third so soon?”

“I’m gonna be thirty-two soon, Sarah. I don’t wanna wait another two years to have another baby. I’m not saying I’m going to get pregnant right now, but soon I think. And then we’ll probably be done.”

“Probably.” She laughs. “You two are wild.”

“He likes it when I’m pregnant.” You grin.

“It does look good on you.” She chuckles. “What do you think the school would say?”

“I’m on the tenure track, they can’t say shit. Also, I’ve been pretty convenient having them both at the end of the spring semester. It’s not like I’ve needed to take extra time off.”

“True. What do you think you’d want to have, another boy or girl?”

“I have no idea, it doesn’t really matter to us. You know what Harry said before Jack was born? He wanted to know the sex of the baby so we could start calling him Jack instead of just Baby Styles, and he said the sex itself didn’t matter because Jack could realize he was supposed to be a girl when he gets older. It was so sweet.”

“God, that’s so progressive. We have some trans students at the prep school. You should see some of the parents that look at these kids when they get dropped off.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not your kid, don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll never really understand why other people care so much. You are who you are.” You shrug.

Harry and Niall come back with Jack, and take him down to the water.

“That srunchie in his hair is so cute.”

“I know, he loves them too. We have one in every color for him. I’m so glad he has Harry’s hair. It’s beautiful.”

“Did you have to buy a special shampoo for it or anything?”

“Yeah, actually. My mom told me what to get. Never been so thankful that she’s a hairdresser. He loves when she comes over to cut his hair. He likes when she scratches his head.” You laugh.

It was a perfect beach day. Jack knocked out on the car ride home. You were able to give him a quick bath and put him to bed easily. Jessica went right down as well. You and Harry put some comfy clothes on and plop onto the couch with Buster. He throws his arm around you and pulls you in close.

“I like our family.” He says.

“Me too.” You look up at him and kiss him on the cheek.

Tuesday morning, Harry drove Jack to the doctor’s office for his physical.

“Where are we going, Daddy?”

“To see Dr. Philips. She’s gonna see how much you’ve grown from last year.”

“How come?”

“Every year, after your birthday, you have to have a physical. It’s just to make sure you’re in tip top shape.”

“You get one too?”

“I sure do. But I go to the grown up doctor for mine.”

Harry gets Jack up to the office. The receptionist is a little too happy to see him.

“Hi, Mr. Styles.” She beams.

“Checkin’ Jack in.”

“Of course…where’s Mrs. Styles today?”

“Out with our daughter, having a visit with Grandpa.”

“Jessica got to see Grandpa?!” Jack nearly bursts into tears.

“Jack, remember if you’re good you get a lollypop afterwards.” He pouts and goes to sit down. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Harry signs whatever forms there are.

“Happens all the time.”

Harry sits with Jack who was now being grumpy.

“You’re really upset, huh?”

“I like going to Grandpa’s.” He huffs.

“Are you really upset because mummy’s there?” Jack looks up at Harry and nods. “Sorry, mate. We’ll make time to go see Grandpa. You can have a whole day with him without your sister, okay?”

“Jack?” Dr. Philips comes out and smiles. “Ready?”

Harry and Jack stand up and follow her back to the room he’d be examined in. She takes his height and weight.

“He’s right where he’s supposed to be Harry.”

Harry hums his response. He lifts Jack up to put him on the bed. Dr. Philips moves his shorts up a tad so she can see his little thighs.

“This is gonna feel cold, Jack.”

“What are you doing?” He asks, big eyes looking up at her.

“I have to give you some shots so you don’t get sick later on. They’re called vaccines. You get a few when you’re a baby, and you get some now. It’s like your flu shot.”

“Does Daddy get them too?”

“Yes, but his own doctor gives them to him.” She looks at Harry, and he nods at Jack.

You get home with Jessica later that day. You and your dad went out for breakfast before hanging out at his house for a bit. You walk up the basement stairs with her and head into the living room. Jack was curled up in Harry’s arms.

“You.” Harry glares at you.

“Not exactly the greeting I was expecting.” You smirk. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you ever make me do that again.”

“Do what?”

You set Jessica down in the pack and play that was in the living room. Harry gently puts Jack on the couch.

“How come he’s napping with you and not in his bed? How was his physical?” Harry yanks you into the kitchen.

“How was his physical?!” He whisper screams. “Hm, let’s see, I almost strangled Dr. Philips.”

“What?! Why?”

“She gave him three shots!”

“She was supposed to!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to hear him whale out and cry. Then I started crying.” He groans. “I wanted to kill her. He didn’t even want his lollypop after. So, I will not be takin’ anyone for any more shots in the future. That’s all you.” He crosses his arms. You smile slightly. Harry’s accent always got thicker when he was upset, and it was sort of funny.

“You think it would be easier for me?”

“You’re way stronger than I am when it comes to that stuff. He cried for you, by the way.” He huffs and looks away. “This is something mums are supposed to do.”

“How was the rest of it?” You sigh.

“Good. His weight is on track and so is his height. He did great up until the shots.”

“Alright.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ll take them for shots next time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I did it when he was a baby, and I can tell you I didn’t want to kill the doctor.” You chuckle.

“It was too much.�� He leans his forehead against yours.

“Mumma?” Jack comes into the kitchen, baby blanket cuddled to his face, thumb in his mouth.

“Hi, darling.” You let go of Harry and scoop him up. “Daddy told me you were really brave earlier.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at you.

“He did?”

“Mhm, so I think you should have a little treat for being so good. What do you say after dinner tonight we all go out for ice cream?”

“Yeah!” He hugs you close. “I got shots, Mumma.”

“I know, wanna show me your band aids?”

You walk him back out to the couch and sit down with him. Harry picks up Jessica and snuggles her. He sits down next to you.

“Oh, those are nice. She gave you dinosaurs just how you like.”

“How was my baby girl today?” Harry asks.

“Oh, I was fine. We went to a diner for breakfast-“ Harry starts laughing. “What?”

“I meant Jessica.” He smirks.

“She was fine too.” You swallow. “Good snuggles with Grandpa. Jack, would you like to see Grandpa later this week? He wants to come over and swim.”

“Yeah! I love Grandpa.”

“He loves you too.” You kiss the top of his head.

“You make everything better.” Harry says.

“Oh stop it.”

“I mean it. He was a mess earlier, and I was too much of a mess to-“

“He was asleep on you when I got in, you calmed him down plenty. You’re such a good dad, babe.”

“Thanks.” He kisses Jessica’s cheek and it makes her giggle. “We have the cutest kids in the world, I swear to god.”

“We sure do.”

You didn’t get to celebrate your thirty-second birthday because you were called to testify in court. Harry had been working half days, and you knew he was stressed and felt guilty for leaving you at home with the kids, so you didn’t let on about how nervous you were about seeing Jake again.

Sarah and Rachel would come over to see you when they could. Jack really liked playing with Ricky. The girls would often ask you how you were feeling about everything coming up, but you didn’t really want to talk about it.

“You don’t have to come to court with me.” You tell Harry the night before.

“Sure I do. I need to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“But you’ve been craving alone time with the kids, and now you’ll have it.”

“Y/N.” Harry sighs as he gets into bed with you. “I’m going, and so is Niall. Sarah said she could babysit. It’s all taken care of. You’re not going there alone, and that’s final.”

“Apparently after my testimony they think the jury will be able to make a decision. The other women have come in already. I’m a little nervous…I haven’t seen him in years….what if I freak out and I can’t say what the lawyer has been prepping me for?”

“That’s why we’re going. You can just look over at Niall and I.” He cups your cheek and you lean into you. “And then our kids are gonna know how brave their mum is.”

“And once that asshole is convicted I’ll be able to finally feel free from all of this. That trauma is always going to be inside me, and I’ve learned to cope, but he….well, it’s his turn to suffer.”

Harry kisses you and pulls you close to his chest. Tomorrow was going to be really difficult, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t be there for you.

You put on your nicest pant suit and did your hair and makeup early the next morning. You’d need to meet your lawyer before the hearing. Harry got Jack and Jessica good to go before Niall dropped Sarah off to watch them.

“But where’s Mumma?” Jack asked when Sarah walked in.

“Mummy…had a work thing this morning. She’s getting her classes together for fall. She’ll be home a little later. You and your sister get to spend the day with Auntie Sarah, isn’t that nice?” Harry explains.

“Where are you going?”

“Uncle Niall and I have some errands to run. Adult stuff, buddy.”

“Yeah, it’s really boring Jack. We’re going to have way more fun.”

Jack shrugs and plops down in front of the TV. It was too early for him to even think about arguing. Sarah gives Harry a quick hug before he goes out to Niall’s car.

“How come Daddy was all dressed up?” Jack asks Sarah as she sits down next to him.

“He and Uncle Niall have to be dressed up for their errands. Daddy looks nice in his suit, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jack smiles.

Harry and Niall don’t say much on the way to the courthouse. They were both sweating, and it wasn’t because it was August and they were wearing suits. Harry wished he could see you before going in, but he knew they had you in a private room.

“I just hope the cross examiner isn’t too awful to her.” Harry says. “I mean, she has a way of winning any argument she’s in, but those people can twist your words all over the place.”

“Your lawyer’s been prepping her, I bet she’ll be okay.” Niall gives him a reassuring smile. The two walk in and grab seats before it gets too busy.

People start shuffling in. Everyone rises when the judge comes in. Harry’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing when they sat back down. Niall puts his hand on his knee and gives him a squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay, mate.” He whispers. Harry nods at him and gives him a reassuring smile.

“Your honor, we’d like to call another victim to the stand.”

Your name is announced and you’re brought in through a side door. You don’t dare look around you, you just walk in a straight line. It felt weird swearing in on a Bible, but this was how the court system worked. You sit down in the area next to the judge. She was a female, but that didn’t guarantee she’d be sympathetic. You look out and see your lawyer, and Jake’s ex-wife and her lawyer. Your eyes dart over to Jake and his lawyer. You look out and see Harry and Niall, suddenly feeling grateful they were there.

“Dr. Y/L/N, thank you for joining us today.” The lawyer says to you. “Can you tell us who this man is?” She points over to Jake.

“Jake Robinson.”

“And how do you know him?”

“We dated for about a month back in 2018. We went out four times.”

“And what did these dates consist of?”

“Dinners mostly. We went to the movies once as well.”

“What was Mr. Robinson like on these dates?”

“Nice, for the most part. He seemed like a gentleman, that’s why I continued to see him.”

“Why did you two stop seeing each other?”

“He…assaulted me.” Your eyes meet his. You watch him roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Can you further explain this for the jury? Just so we’re all on the same page on what assault means here.”

“Well, he had driven me home from our dinner date, and he came up to my apartment, just for a night cap. We were talking and then we started kissing.”

“So you willingly invited him up to your place?”

“Yes. At this point I thought I knew him well enough to invite him into my home.”

“Where did it start to go wrong?”

“We started kissing, like a lot of people do. It was the first time we had really kissed outside of one of our cars.” You swallow hard and look over at Harry. He nods encouragingly at you. He wished he could hold your hand through the entire thing. “Anyways, he asked if we could move to the bed. I was living in a studio at the time. I just figured he wanted some room to stretch out.”

“So you said yes to moving to the bed?”

“Yes, but that was all I said yes to.”

“What happened next then?”

You squeeze your hands into fists. Your nails start digging into your palms. You take a deep breath and begin.

“It all happened really fast. He got aggressive all of a sudden. Before I knew it my head was being shoved into the pillow and he had…forced himself inside me. It hurt and I was crying.”

“You didn’t want to have sex with him?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him to stop?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was afraid. If he could flip a switch like that I didn’t know what else he might do to me if I told him to stop or to get off me. It felt like I was paralyzed. I just sort of suffered through it. I didn’t want it.”

“What happened afterwards?”

“He left. He acted like everything was normal. There was a ton of blood on my sheets, and between my legs. I passed out and landed on my floor. When I woke up I put all of my clothes and the sheets into bags.”

“Why did you do this?”

“In case I decided to press charges, I wanted there to be evidence of his DNA or something. I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that’s what you’re supposed to do. I called out of work all week, and barely spoke or ate, or bathed. I was trying to process everything. I ended up seeing a therapist, which I signed a waiver for to free up the documents of our conversations.”

“Yes, we were able to look all of that over, thank you. We were also able to look over the DNA on your things. It was Mr. Robinson’s, just like it had been on the previous women’s things.” She looks at the judge who is making notes. “Did going to therapy help?”

“Yes. I only went a few times, and then took a break. I was suppressing a lot. I went back after a little while because I started having flashes when I started dating my now husband.”

“What are flashes?”

“They’re…like…we’d be doing something and all of a sudden I’d get triggered and get scared like it was Jake on top of me again.”

“Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N. No further questions, your honor.”

Jake’s lawyer stands up to cross examine you.

“Mrs. Styles, -“

“Dr. Y/L/N.” You correct him. Harry and Niall smirk to each other.

“My apologies, Dr. Y/L/N.” He clears his throat. “You mentioned you kept everything as evidence, but you didn’t press charges until a few months ago, why is that?”

“A friend had driven me to the police station about six different times. At the time, I just wanted it all to go away, and a court case terrified me. I was scared of seeing him face to face again. I also hadn’t told many people yet, and I was afraid of a lot of things. I had just turned twenty-three, I was young and didn’t really know how to properly handle things. If I could go back, believe me, I would have gone right to the police.”

“Maybe you didn’t go before because you knew Mr. Robinson didn’t actually assault you. It was just something you made up.”

“No, it was assault, rape, actually. He raped me. I didn’t consent to having sex with him. He didn’t ask me if I wanted to, he didn’t ask me if I was alright, he didn’t even check to see if I was enjoying it.”

“Maybe he just thought you liked it rough.”

“How would he have deduced that from the few dates we had been on? Like I said, he didn’t ask me if I wanted to or if I was enjoying it. He forced himself on me. I’ve consensual sex before, that wasn’t it.”

“You’re married, correct?”

“I am.”

“So every time you have sex with your partner, you both ask to make sure it’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We always check in and make sure it’s something we both want in that moment. Every partner I’ve ever had, actually. Even if it was just a hook up back when I was in college, I was always asked if I wanted to, and when I said no, that was respected. I would give that same respect and courtesy back to them as well.” You take a sip of water from the bottle they put out for you. “Are you saying you don’t check in with your partner when you’re getting intimate?”

“No further questions, your honor.”

“Dr. Y/L/N, you’re free to go. Thank you.” She says to you.

You stand up and you’re lead out of the room. The judge announces there will be a brief recess to allow the jury some time to think everything over. Harry and Niall go out in the hallway to meet you and your lawyer. You tear up when you see them, and you run into Harry’s arms. He holds you close to his chest. His eyes were watery as well. Niall rubs your back as you breathe in Harry’s cologne for comfort.

“You did so well, love.” He whispers to you. “I’m so proud of you.” You look up at him and smile.

“Thank you.” You let go of him and hug Niall as well, briefly. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“You really shut that other lawyer up when you flipped the script on him.” Niall says. “Well done.”

“Do you want to stay, or do you want to leave?” Harry asks.

“No, I wanna hear what the jury has to say. Even if they don’t believe me or the other women, they at least have to agree she should have full custody of their kid.”

The court is called back into session an hour or so later. Everyone rises when the judge comes back in.

“I want to thank the jury for their months of service on this case. I know hearing all of these stories has not been easy. I would also like to thank the brave women who have come forward in support of Mrs. Robinson.” She looks at Jake and then to the jury. “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

“Yes, your honor.” A woman stands up. “We find Mr. Jacob Robinson guilty on all counts of rape, including predatory.”

You gasp, but try to keep your composure. Jake’s parents and some of his family were also in the courtroom. You thought they should be ashamed raising someone like that, but you’d keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Mr. Robinson, you showed very little remorse during these last few months. I haven’t been very impressed.” The judge says. “We had three very brave women forward to make sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone else, and you easily could have. There could be others and we may never know. I sentence you to twenty years in prison, no parole. Mrs. Robinson will be granted full custody of the child. No visitation rights granted.” She pounds the gavel. “Court dismissed.” She stands up and exits.

You watch as Jake’s ex-wife hugs her lawyer and then who you presume is her family. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started crying. You stand up and throw your arms around Harry and Niall. It was over, it was finally over. The three of you walk out of the courthouse. There were news vans and reports out there waiting to take statements, as there often were with cases like this.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” You turn around to see Jake’s ex-wife. “We haven’t formally met, I’m Jane.” She shakes your hand. “I just wanted to say thank you, and that I’m so very sorry. I remember you, sort of, from years ago. We bumped into you at the ice rink in the city. You ran out after you saw him.”

“I remember.”

“I almost broke up with him that night, but he convinced me there was nothing to worry about. I was young then too, I didn’t realize he was manipulating me. Thanks to you, and the other women, I can go back to my daughter and tell her she’ll be safe from now on. We’ve been divorced for a couple of years, but he just wouldn’t leave us alone.”

“I’m sorry you had to be put through all of that. If I had-“

“Don’t. The other women all said the same thing. It’s hard, when there’s a history of people not believing women, or the fact that your life could have been destroyed by going through this process…it makes you so tired you don’t even want to try. I understand completely.” She looks over at Harry and Niall as well. “Can I ask you two something?”

“Anything.” Harry says while Niall nods.

“Did you ever see him again? Rough him up a little? The weekend of our wedding he had to wear makeup because he had gotten into some bar fight at his bachelor party.”

“Yeah, that was us…mostly me.” Harry says.

“Another red flag I ignored.” She scoffs. “Well, I just came over to thank you.” She gives your hand a squeeze. “I hope you’re able to live a little more peacefully now.”

“Thanks, same to you.” You smile as she walks away. “Okay, I’m ready to go home. It’s too fucking out to be wearing all these clothes, and I miss my babies.”

The three of you get back to your house and walk in through the front door. No one was inside, Sarah must have the kids out back for some pool time. You go upstairs to go put your suit on. Niall drives home to change. Harry goes upstairs as well. Once you’re both changed you head outside. Buster barks excitedly when he sees the two of you.

“Mumma!” Jack yelps as he swims over to the ladder. It nearly makes Sarah flip out of her pool float.

“Jack, don’t run!” Sarah yells as she gets out of the pool. Jessica was snug in the shade in her stroller.

“Hi my sweet baby.” You scoop Jack up and hold him close to you.

“How were your fancy errands, Daddy?” Jack asks, looking at his now dressed down father.

“Good.” He jostles his hair.

“How’d it go?” Sarah asks, giving you a side hug.

“He’s going away, for a long time.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Who’s going away?” Jack asks.

“No one you ever need to worry about.” You kiss his cheek and set him down. You snatch one of the water guns on the ground and his eyes grow wide with excitement. “Wanna play?”

Jack grabs another loaded water gun and the two of you start running around the yard spraying each other.

“She did amazing. Really kept it together.”

“I’ll bet.” Sarah says. Niall comes into the backyard and wraps his arms around Sarah from behind.

“Have fun with the kiddos?”

“Mhm.” She turns to kiss his cheek. “You two got lucky with such easy babies. She’s just as good as Jack was when he was that small.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

Harry grabs another water gun and joins in on the fun with you and Jack.

“Oh no!” You squeal. “Let’s join forces, Jack!” You both try to get Harry, but you run out of water.

Harry grins at the two of you, and soaks you with the gun. Jack squeals and runs over to Sarah and Niall. Harry gets his hands on you and lifts you.

“Harry, please!” You laugh hysterically as he lifts you higher and throws you into the pool. You emerge, and splash at him.

“Just thought you could cool off, babe.”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Do it to me, Daddy!” Jack comes running back over so Harry can lift him up. Harry tosses him into the pool so you can catch him. Harry comes into the pool as well to keep having fun.

“They’re a cute little family.” Niall kisses Sarah’s cheek.

“Yeah, they are.” She sighs happily. “I like our little family too, though.”

“Oh, me too. Wouldn’t change a thing with yeh.”

#my everything #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #dad!harry

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livinginncity · 3 years

Text

Late Nights In The Studio w/ Taeil

♚: taeil x reader

❡: fluff

ⱳƈ: 3.5k

⚠︎: none really. some swearing, the typical talk of stress as an idol, but really just some tooth-rotting sentimental fluff.

you couldn’t exactly say how things escalated so quickly. you had gotten a text from taeyong explaining in barely comprehensible texts, of which you have come to decipher with ease, that your boyfriend had not been satisfied with today’s recording session. a text you received many times before and did not doubt you would see again, as it meant the love of your life had once again been consumed by his passion for music with the assistance of his perfectionist nature.

upon seeing said text, you couldn’t help but to heave a sigh. ‘a long night for you, is a long night for me,’ you had once told him, and every part of your being agreed wholeheartedly. not once did you regret saying such a thing, you still remind him whenever he attempts to dissuade you from indulging him with your presence on late nights like these. the sigh was due to your own day being rather eventful in the most unpleasant ways possible. as your mind began to wander back over such things, you arrived at the corner of the street you had been walking along where a small chinese restaurant sat—allowing you to break from your previous train of thought.

“hey, y/n.” as you entered you were greeted by a familiar face, one that allowed a smile to wiggle its way onto your own. “the usual, I’m guessing?”

“hey.”

your feet dragged themselves to the counter and you plopped down into one of the seats that sat across from the register, your bag landing on the floor right beside it. face feeling hot, your forehead sought out the cool surface of the countertop.

“hello. earth to y/n.” the young adult spoke again, prompting you to roll onto your cheek to face him.

“yeah, the usual.” the response was immediately shouted into the back where his mother was sure to be. “actually, can you add three dàntà?”

“must you make my life harder?” again, the order was relayed to the sweet lady whom you’d loved as soon as you met, before he turned back to continue speaking. “so i’m gonna take a wild guess and assume your celebrity boyfriend is glued to the floor in front of a mic again.”

his words brought a chuckle from your lips at the reminder of your boyfriend’s apparent predictable nature.

“you would be correct.”

“why don’t you just ask him to leave the studio a bit earlier? You're clearly not having the easiest of days either.”

“are you actually serious? asking that man to leave the studio or practice early would be like asking your mom to close the restaurant early.”

“i’ll be in my grave before she ever agrees to that.”

“exactly. plus, it’s not that bad. i just bring him food and i might pass out on the couch in the studio. he usually feels bad when i do though, so we’ll leave pretty soon after that.”

“so you just eat and sleep? you’re so lazy.”

“look, i’ve been swamped with so much schoolwork and work-work that i’m dreaming pie charts and the odyssey all together—cut me some slack.”

“yeah, yeah. just sounds like excuses to me. and to think my ap class cousin just sits on her ass all d-“ he was interrupted by a smack to the back of his head.

“what did i tell you about using that kind of language in the restaurant?” you stood up and walked over to meet the older lady at the entrance of the kitchen, quickly being enveloped in her arms. “especially to my precious, little niece.”

“hi, auntie. has he been giving you a hard time? i told you i’d beat him up the next time i was here, if so.”

a light smack to your arm was felt as she let out a warm laugh. “oh, hush. how have you been? are your grades okay? what about that internship? how is that going?”

“my grades are okay, and my internship is going well. my boss is pretty nice and they seem to like my ideas, so i think they might consider hiring me as permanent staff once it’s over.”

“that’s great, sweetie. now…tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

it took about another thirty minutes to shake your extremely talkative aunt, but you managed to do so before the food started getting cold and finally made your way out of the small takeout joint.

finally arriving at the familiar building, you hastily made your way up the numerous stairs and stopped in front of the recording room.

you couldn’t help the sigh that left your lips as you watched taeil through the clear window that took up a majority of the door. it seemed you had arrived a little late because he was now sitting in front of the panel, that had more nobs and buttons than your simple mind could comprehend the use for, with his head in his hands and elbows resting on his knees.

you decided to knock before entering to signal your arrival and shut the door gently behind you. upon seeing your figure his head rolled back, accompanied by a groan and hands sliding his face.

you simply let out a teasing huff, followed by a ‘well, it’s nice to see you, too,’ and carefully set the food on the clear section of the desk to let yourself settle between his legs as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and nestled his face into your midsection.

you both stayed there for a minute and the male in front of you let out a contented sigh when you let your fingers play with and run through the hair atop his head. the pair of you separated only when the rumbling of your stomach decided to ruin the brief moment of domesticity.

you moved rather slow despite being slightly embarrassed, which gave taeil enough time to nibble at your stomach through the material of your shirt. you snorted as you slapped the back of the boy's head before turning to set out the food.

“stop doing that, you weirdo. i don’t know where the hell you got the idea to start doing that from.” he just let a small smile show and pulled you sideways into his lap and scooted the chair closer to the desk.

“but you laugh every time i do it.” you rolled your eyes at that.

“that’s because it tickles.” the words came out before you could comprehend who you’d just said them to. ‘stop, please,’ ‘food...cold,’ and ‘okay, i like it,’ leave your mouth before your lungs are finally allowed a breath again.

“you know you don’t have to do this every time, y/n.” your boyfriend finally spoke after the two of had scarfed down the majority of your meal in silence—not uncomfortable, but clear that something had been on his mind besides his music. you turned to face him more before he continued.

“you’re working so hard every day, finishing up your last years of school and securing the internship you’ve been longing for since day one of university. you do all that and you still come here to make sure i’m not cooped up in that recording booth all night, that i’ve eaten, that i stop stressing myself out. i get so stuck in my own head and life that i never come to visit you at work on your lunch break or drop you off for your morning classes before i head to practice. how have you not broken up with me, y/n? i’m really not even wor-“

you swallowed the bite you had taken before proceeding to shove the whole dàntà into his mouth, clapping the crumbs if your hands and patting them on your jeans for good measure. the pastry resided there while he sat in a slight shock, and he slowly became aware of its protrusion as lifted his hand to take it out and set it on the table.

your hands found the familiar holds of his shoulders as you leveled your eyes with his, orbs seeming to gaze directly into his soul. all he could think at that moment was ‘wow.’

“i do this ‘every time’ because i don’t get to do it every time. your schedule is so hectic with the concerts, tours, fan meets, promotions, and jacket shootings, that the times when you’re recording or practicing are the only times that i can really be with you.”

his gaze seemed to fall at your words, but you continued at your own pace because even you can admit that he at least owed you that.

“but even though those moments are brief, i absolutely love to be there for them. because i can see how passionate you are. when you dance, you dance as if your life depends on it. you practice every move until your not just content, but satisfied with how they turn out. and when you record, it doesn’t matter how many times the producer says it sounds perfect. you’ll do take after take until you deem it worthy for your fans to hear.”

your hands rubbed over his shoulders before moving up to cup his face. they looked glossy and you knew if you continued to stare at them, your own would soon mirror them. yet you continued to look at him anyway.

“seeing your passion continue so strongly after making it through your trainee years, pushes me to continue in the times i feel like giving up. and to know that i can offer you solace amongst all that you must do, even if it’s only for a brief moment, makes me even more sure that i will never regret being in this relationship with you and that you are really fucking dumb for ever doubting it.”

by now, more than a few tears had made their way down his face and yours, but you just let your thumbs wipe them aside before pulling him into a slow, telling kiss. even so, you wanted to say it. again and again and again, until he heard it so much that he couldn’t help but start to feel that way about himself.

“moon taeil, i am in love with you. i’ve known that i loved you since our third date when you tripped and spilled that hot ass coffee onto my new white dress and kept apologizing until i let you buy me something from the store across the street. you didn’t even question me when i picked out a hoodie with bunny ears that was most definitely way too large for my size. and quite frankly, i think i’ll love you even after the sun finally claims this earth. and even in our next life, should we have one.

“i’ve cried on the nights when you were off in another country, i’ve laughed on the nights where i watch the videos of you and the boys on variety shows, and i’ve felt an overwhelming swell of pride on the nights that i see you on stage or accepting yet another award for the hard work you never stopped putting in. being with you is worth every night spent alone, every nap taken on that surprisingly comfortable and overpriced couch, and every penny lost to my nosy ass aunt’s restaurant, so long as i know that you’ll always come back. that sometimes i get to wake up to you in my bed after you’ve been gone for months, that every once in a while you offer to buy me that same couch for christmas—which i really am thinking about accepting soon so please keep asking—and that whenever i walk in here after a long ass day for the both of us, you take the time to sit and eat the same damn food i bring every time without fail. i’m sorry it took me so long to let you know how grateful i am to have you in my life. i’m sorry i left you to fight this battle on your own.”

somewhere in between your words, you had shifted to straddle him so you could face him fully. you could feel his fingertips digging into your hips before they clenched tightly around your shirt, his head falling into your chest, and broken sobs filled the small room.

you held him close and let his tears soak your shirt—knowing full well now that he had felt insecure about your relationship much longer than what you originally thought. it made you feel guilty. for not seeing something so important. a sudden movement interrupted your thoughts and you looked to see that taeil was now staring right into you.

“i love you, y/n. i love you, i love you, i love you. god, i am so fucking in love with you. i know i’m not always around, and that there are so many more things i could be doing to spend even more of the little time we have together. i see you living the life i wonder if i could’ve had if i had chosen a path different from the one i’m on now, see you busting your ass to get your phd and masters despite having to put yourself through school, and i see you when you pass out on that couch surrounded by loads of papers that i know no other intern would be expected to do or be trusted with, and yet you always manage to finish after slaving away over them and surprising your bosses with each assignment.

“i know how much you cry and beat yourself up when you score low on a test, how much you stress when a deadline is approaching for your classes and internship, and how much you try to keep up with me, your family, and even what’s going on in the other twenty-two member’s lives and sometimes i just can't help but wonder, ‘how is she so strong.’” you’d done a good job keeping your tears at bay as you watch him cry, but you joined him as he continued. it was now your turn to bury your face into his chest, and he spoke over your sobs.

“babygirl, you are so strong. you are so strong, and i can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that the blood, sweat, and tears that you’ve put into everything you do will be worth it. you will feel that satisfaction and pride in yourself, and i want to be with you when it all pays off. to see that smile on your face and those happy tears you try to hide from everybody because they all think it’s cute to see you so overjoyed. so i promise you, y/n, it won’t always be like this.

“one day, things will settle down a bit, and we’ll get to spend time judging and adjusting to each other’s weird ass habits, and i’ll attempt making you an edible breakfast, take you to work and pick you up on your lunch break, and we’ll hide away from the world on our surprisingly comfortable and overpriced couch while watching dramas that have no damn reason being that cheesy, and listening to true crime podcasts while discussing how we’d get away with murder and that we’d make the perfect partners in crime.”

taeil lifts your head, just as you had done him, but instead kisses away your tears. you let out a slightly embarrassing giggle before sniffling your runny nose. taeil’s face was still tear-streaked, but now wore a large smile that felt a hundred times lighter and you could feel your aching face mirror it. he took your right hand and intertwined it with his left, and you could see him take a large breath before he let out the last of his words.

“i will marry you one day, y/n. we’ll have at least one kid before so they can be apart of the wedding, and we’ll have at least two girls and one boy. we’ll adopt one or two and make sure our kids are as fashionable as taeyong, and we’ll sing them to sleep together, and teach them the importance of hard work and that it does pay off. i am so helplessly in love with you, y/n, and i promise you that i’ll show you that all this, with school, work, me, was worth it.”

and you sat there, staring into the eyes of the one and only love of your life, with a finally visible future—a future that felt almost certain with the amount of confidence that flowed from him and his words—and you could really feel it now. his promise of the hard work and effort paying off eventually, you could feel it planting it’s roots in the seeds you laid both as an individual and together.

“oh, you will be the death of me, moon taeil. and i don’t think there could be a better way to go.”

this was only the beginning of a very sappy, vert fluffy love story and you were in no rush to finish it.

fin.

bonus:

you both ended up at your place that night, kissing, cuddling, fucking. taeil had to go back to finish recording and helping out at the studio, and you decided to call in. your hard work showing in how fast they were to praise and accept your request—insisting you take a couple more on top of that.

and so you walked to the same building that morning hand-in-hand, careful to look out for dispatch and any other paid stalkers that liked to lurk around every corner for the next scandal.

you took the elevator up this time, but when you walked to the studio containing the recording booth, you were a bit surprised at the sight of the other twenty-two neos and multiple staffs huddled into it. how they all fit in there, you’ll never know, but you could hear various sniffles going around the room and caught sight of many tear-stained faces and glossy eyes.

you knocked on the metal frame of the door, causing everyone to turn to you and taeil, and what shock you most was that some burst even further into tears upon seeing you. yukhei and taeyong seemed to push their way to the doorway and enveloped the two of you in a tight hug—tighter for you as you were the one that ended up in yukhei’s arms.

“umm,” you looked to taeil for assistance, but he seemed just as clueless as you. “what’s…all this about?”

you look over at johnny as he cleared his throat. he hadn’t been crying, but looked rather happy by whatever had caused such a gathering. “if i may…”

he clicked a button and, as clear as day, you heard, “i will marry you one day, y/n. we’ll have at least one kid before so they can be apart of the wedding, and we’ll have at least two girls and one boy. we’ll adopt one or two and make sure our kids are as fashionable as taeyong, and we’ll sing them to sleep together, and-“

you found that your brain could only comprehend the soundboard in this very moment, and that was to ensure that you and taeil would indeed actually live to make those words come true before dying of embarrassment.

you searched for taeil’s eyes in the crowded room to find him as red as his punch era hair, still wrapped in taeyong’s hold. the younger lifted his head from the shoulder of the older male to look down at him—eyes sparkling.

“do you really mean it, hyung? you want your’s and y/n’s kids to be as fashionable as me? you think i’m fashionable? hyung!” his last word came out muffled as he was quick to burrow back into the crook of taeil’s neck.

and then the questions erupted.

“is that three kids or five?”

“will we all be uncles?”

“there can only be one godfather, right?”

“wait, are you even catholic?”

“well, if they have five there can be five of us, right?”

“i think i’d rather have one named after me.” “omg, i didn’t even think about that! you guys will definitely name one after me, right?”

“i don’t know about you, but i'm sure they’ll name one after me.”

“ha, yeah right. as if anyone in their right mind you name their child or children after you dorks.”

“yah! what was that?”

“yah? yah? what year were you born again.”

“wait, wait, hyung! i’m sorry!”

you managed to slip out with taeil’s hand in your own and began to sprint down the hallway and few flights of stairs. the two of you stopped about halfway down the stairwell panting, out of breath, and laughing any oxygen out of your lungs. you leaned on opposite sides of the stairwell, but you managed to calm yourself enough to push off your wall and walk over to taeil.

you stood in front of him and grabbed both of his hands before going up on your toes to kiss him for a bit. when you finally pulled away, per your lung's request, you settled your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. a door slamming somewhere above you startled you away from each other.

“hyung, noona! you still haven’t said who you’re gonna name them after!”

you two looked at each other for a second before nodding simultaneously.

“Run.”

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #taeil #moon taeil #taeil fluff #this was supposed to be a smut but i got emotional #sorry you will not taste taeil's phat juicy ass today

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last-on-your-lips · 3 years

Text

Perception (pt. 2)

Its not that it’s hard for a mage to use destructive magic, really. Focus hard enough on anything and it’s liable to break apart when you command the very fabric every element is built on. Magic in our world is that intrinsic, so potent and present that technology all but has to be built around it with cooperation between Mages, Drakes and Alchemists alike.

Talin fancied herself as a healer, and I knew that even when I asked what I did of her. Mum’s not much for breaking things at all. Repairing shattered ceramics is one of her hobbies, actually. She’s very sentimental like that, and I could see her have to set her jaw when she turned her eyes on the ramshackle town we’d been a part of as long as I could remember. This was the place I had learned to talk, these were the homes of our people. It didn’t matter that they were small and easy to rebuild, or that few who lived there owned more than they could have carried out. Mum had spent most of my life half-employed as the doctor to the Draughters of Infirili, and she was sentimental.

When she began her cast I had the privilege of my new sight to tell me that she glowed like the bloody sun from the crown of her head down to the center of her chest, coalescing the energy of her sentimental grief and her disgust with the necessity of the action into a softly spoken evocation. The tips of two of her fingers touched her lips as she spoke, the power she called focusing to a point of light visible to the lame and frail as well at the end of her claws. Mum was never one to waste time with her spells, so it was a simple gesture of extending her arm and opening her hand that flung that spell to the town from where she stood. I knew to brace for the heat that would come. Our frail passengers didn’t.

One moment a prick of light flew loose of the ship, no larger than a shooting star against the night. There was a brief silence as the energy bolted deep into the hard trod ground beneath the huts and shacks, and next there was a vicious rumble from the ground before heat billowed out ahead of a voracious flame. The structures weren’t all that hard to destroy, of course, but the shockwave was enough to flatten the marsh grass and hide the hoofprints and footprints all the way to the tree line. It also sent a flush of heat and force to flutter the battalion standards, and I could see the march come to a halt at the impact. Mum radiated with her fury below, her eyes narrow and focused behind us on the forces we were avoiding as I tilted to cut into the trees, following the scent of the other evacuated draughted and the drakes leading them.

I was surprised at how well the ship balanced as I had to switch to climbing through the forest, usually only needing me to mind it with one massive forepaw or by the tip of a wing as I transferred between trees. I’d have to ask Kyn if it was designed for that when I put it back down… which seemed like it might come sooner than I had anticipated. I would have to adjust to covering distances so confidently with my new mass and form, I was used to the forest feeling impossible to travel in the night as a human. I contemplated how I had moved so many miles on little rest and less food as I half slithered down the trunk of the tree Talin and I had established our home in the base of, the natural place for me to return to as it was the only relatively secure part of the forest with enough space to accommodate for the very suddenly displaced crowd of exiles.

The moment the hull touched the clearing I had painstakingly maintained by spear and effort, there was a calamity of questions tumbling over each other out of the mouths of sore footed mothers, sobered fathers, and collected tradesfolk that had understandable frustrations about abandoning the small shops they’d managed to accumulate. Natural and reasonable fury and confusion, if louder than I liked as Kyn was unthreading the line from my chest and Mum was unboarding the folk we’d carried out and shepherding them into the husk of the great trunk. I caught complaints about potential livestock losses and upset over losing the small place we’d had for longer than any other Draught community were known to have maintained a place. My body language was blank, and my gaze studied and counted the faces of the children first, then their mothers, then their fathers. Then I sought out the tradesfolk, counting to ensure the strongest of them were among the bodies escaped from the town. After my assessment I made a low bellied rumbling noise, and the calamitous fury turned to hesitant silence.

Kyn spoke before I could, as close as the town had to a leader. “We all knew this was coming, get hold of yourselves! I dunnae what ye thought Talin meant when she told ye that her child was a dragon, or why ye ignored her if ye were going to shout about it now.”

There was a rustle of discomfort through the crowd of displaced friends, eyes averting and pouts settling onto faces as they were chided for their vocal frustrations about the disruption to their night and life. Many arms crossed and chins pointed up in familiar guard and defiance as Kyn stood on the rail of his ship between them and me to speak his piece.

“Ye can all like it or nae, but this is what ye were told when ye moved in. Ye should be grateful we got out ‘fore some folk that didn’ much mind us surviving cleared us out to piss Faern here off.” The words were certainly not as delicate as I would have said myself, but the life that many of my friends had lived had been rougher than Talin had given me. And Kyn certainly wasn’t wrong that I would’ve been less composed to see them dead. “We’re here for a day or two. Get some sleep, we work tomorrow. Got horses to catch in the morning an’ shoes to put together before we get us moving on.”

At his dismissal many eyes had gone from fury to steel, acceptance that this was indeed the lot they’d chosen when they came to Infirili. I admit some guilt lingered in the back of my mind, knowing I was the cause of displacement and loss. Although mostly I was relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t been what I had found when I arrived. While the crowd distributed into the clearing with less heated grouching, Talin came back out to us looking much calmer than she had going inside. She was concerningly loaded down with maps and her bestiaries, however, and I recognized her planning face. Perhaps when I was younger I should have paid more attention to her and Kyn when they had their late night plotting sessions drawing on maps and conspiring about exactly what local wild animals could be caught, bribed and purposed for companionship and protection to humans.

I counted myself rather lucky that it was then Kyn’s lover looked over, the scathing squint of her slit blue eyes enough to send a chill down his spine and put a pause in Talin’s step as she had to glance over her shoulder to find the source of the prick against the back of her neck.

Asyla was a massive woman, someone who had kept me in check during some of the more physical outbursts of my gangly teenage years. She was a draught drinker from the westernmost continent, Ophelim. Her draught, you ask? Well she was given Serpent’s Draught. And with it she was adorned with a venemous bite, speed unlike anything that belonged in the bulk of someone as direct in their intentions as she was, and eyes not unlike a pit viper. The pretty pattern of pale silver, off white and almost black scales that decorated her back and her forearms in intricate diamonds was something she liked to display with pride by way of sweeping open backed dresses, although I was a bit stunned to see her skirt knotted over her hip to show the muscular length of her legs was similarly patterned along the outside of her thighs and down shins and calves where her drake hide shorts didn’t cover.

This stunning example of woman was also making a direct path through the disgruntled population of her lover’s town with a look on her face I could only describe as terrifyingly focused. On me. Mum and Kyn put themselves in her way with a cacophony of placations and pleas, begging the walking tank to wait a moment and think before she started in on me. Naturally they were shrugged off as Asyla stalked around The Hull and made herself a wide stance in front of my lowered head.

“’Appy blas’ed bir’day to you, innit?” Her voice it’s usual broken hiss past the disfigured fork of her tongue, not quite managing to form all the complicated ‘T’ or ‘H’ sounds in common.

“Another year. Not another disappointment.” My growl answered as I dropped my weight down, curling up with my wings and tail in tight. “Feels different.”

“Sure should.” A nod of agreement as her hands rested on her hips and she appraised the sheer scale of the difference between what she knew and what I’d changed into. Kyn and Mum seemed baffled that I wasn’t being yelled at. “Wha’ now?”

“Make sure the family is safe first.”

“Alrea’y done. Wha’ now for you Faern?” Asyla always did have a directness no one else showed toward me.

“Finish what they started. Try not to get turned into a Draught while I do it.” My ambition wasn’t going to be a secret, I wanted to see if I could accomplish it in Hocrayle. A camaraderie between Drakes and humans anything like the cooperation happening on the other continents.

“’Ey’re real busy bein’ ‘Uman ‘ere.” Her opinions therein laid out in so few words, although I could tell that she didn’t particularly doubt my determination and abilites. “Figh’in’ isn’ goin to be much like wha’ we’ve done before. Ere’s like to be whole armies.”

“Not trying to do it looking like this, auntie. I want to try and learn from Kyn, take the wings back off and look more personable on the way.” I could feel how naive she thought I was when her arms crossed and her head tilted into her scowl.

“Wha’s the plan, kid.” Demanded more than asked. Rude of her really since the only plan I had come up with was find all my parent’s contacts and figure out exactly what it was they’d been doing before they decided to start an entire war. About that… I realized under my aunt’s discerning stare I had no rightful idea where to begin looking for those contacts. Or how to approach them. Or what to expect if I did find them. All I knew was that Talin wasn’t the only Dragon Draughter that Urthylo and Rhaekson had some kind of contact with before I was born, and I had the newly learned ability to spot draugthed by the way they looked different from other humans. Until Asyla questioned me that felt like a lot to work with.

“Find the Draught Dragons that Urthylo and Rhaekson were conspiring with and figure out what they were doing to help relations between Drakes, nations and humans?” My voice managed to be an infuriatingly uncertain whine.

“Big questions.” Kyn cut in there, his voice heavier than usual, and his pale golden gaze more direct when he pointed it at Asyla. I was surprised to see that she backed off. “We can get those answered. What ye going to do with ye answers?”

“Unite Hocrayle the way drake and dragons are united on the other continents.” This was stated with a confidence all three of my more practiced adults shot down by the angle of their quirked brows. Having said it out loud I also understood how unlikely it seemed that a single influence might achieve that between six unfriendly nations and an extensive wilderness untouched by common humans. The other continents operated as massive and united nations, sharing the same laws and general systems of function across their whole land mass rather than disrupting into countries. This was made possible by their kinship with their local drakes and the cooperation of the Dragons that were incorporated into the bodies of their governments and nobility. Dragons and Drakes were a part of other societies because they maintained station among those societies. Talin had been purposeful in teaching me about how those politics worked, and informing me on how dragons were regarded across different parts of the world.

Hocrayle did not value dragons as part of their government, because Dragons had been tyrants to the humans until they suddenly vanished from the population entirely centuries before my occurrence. In four hundred years many common men and nobles alike had lived and died, and so the six nations had specialized in their ideals and budded into independent philosophies and borders. Into conflict and animosity, and into an age of Alchemy rampantly afflicting people by the hundreds with experimental Draughts.

Asyla was an example of more lawfully applied Alchemy, in Ophelim they only adorned the few and mighty with Draughts. And of those draughts there were only three, The Lion, The Wolf, and The Serpent. Noble beasts that augmented loyal and noble people, and a Draughted from her continent was to be expected as educated, disciplined and in control of their beast. It seemed to me that was likely how the elixirs had been meant to work when they were designed, a kind of initiation and accomplishment to allow humans to gain a deeper understanding of the the rest of their world. Asyla, direct as she ever was, embodied the patience and the gravitas of any viper I’d ever met at least. She also showed that it was possible for a Draughted human to be reasonable, educated, resourceful and respected. Things that were uncommon to see in the nations of Hocrayle.

“Well. Ye want to learn to change the wings back off first, yeah?” Kyn broke my spiraling depth of thought, bringing my eyes to himself and inspiring an earnest bob of my head. “We’ll get that done for ye, and talk more on changing the world when ye aren’t a great lizard.”

Talin sat by Asyla and watched the lesson on transformation as the earliest hours of the day’s turn made little more noise than the uncomfortably light snoring of her friends camping haphazardly around her home. She’d prepared for this over the years. There had been blankets waiting, and food for the little ones. Even a handful of cots she’d built to see the aging folk and lame limbed of the exile town into. Faern had kept their ‘lawn’ clear with enough room for every hardened body now laying on it to doze. She’d expected all of this, really. Yet while she watched Faern struggle to wiggle all the scales off themselves (this being a slow process that Kyn seemed utterly fascinated with and ill equipped to help) she wondered if she could ever have been prepared enough for their future.

Their friends were right, the young dragon was naïve in their ambitions. Not necessarily wrong in wanting to understand what each of their ill-fated parents had been trying to accomplish, and not even wrong to want to see some kind of friendship between humans and drakes on their natural born home. Even without being wrong, they were estimating themselves against nations of humans who only knew of Dragons as legends of practical enslavement. Given how Hocrayle worked without the dragons… She couldn’t honestly come up with a good argument to bringing them back, or turning her well meaning child loose into a world that considered them as an ingredient first and a person sixth.

“Try that water gathering spell I taught you.” Suggested as she watched the scales that had just been shed reform from the low rolling fog under their belly for the ninth time. The fog was thinning from all the water that Faern hadn’t realized they were drawing in yet.

Kyn didn’t like what happened when that suggestion was made, the pale white streak of magic travelling along the dragon’s spine as they gathered up the energy and focused it toward their horns. Talin realized belatedly that she probably should have let anyone in town know that their favorite harmless dragon knew fundamental direct magic, and had mastered the manipulation of most of the natural elements at a frankly alarming scale. That could be handled later though. She focused intently to watch how the spell began to unweave the massive body that Faern had grown into, the water from the creek they’d absorbed on the mountain top gathering as tail, scale, claw and wing withered and swirled into the mass. A few focused moments and the slender frame of her child with eyes closed was levitating fully nude at the height their horns had been, the odd glow of pure magic making them painful to look at.

She appreciated the style of the next spell that they chose, watching the gathered element surround Faern anew and change it’s density and structure until it made a decent impression of their usual hunting garb. This was something a mage couldn’t have done in a thousand years of study, and only a mad alchemist would try with nothing but their own focus to depend on. Talin had taught it to Faern anyway, after decades of obsessive research into the old Tyrant Dragons. The old dragons had been able to transform at will from their royal robes, and after painstaking research she had found no remnants or records of seamstresses or looms or fabrics that made it possible for them. It had actually been one of Faern’s own theories that the tyrants kept their element under an elaborate glamour in order to ease transitions. And immediately after they sealed this spectacular spell as proof they opened their eyes and dropped down to glare at Kyn where he was fastening his britches back on.

“Explain the Indemnic boat, Kyn. That kind of technology is rare here, and insanely expensive to build–” The tangent was cut short, to Talin’s amusement, when Kyn squared his palm across the full plane of Faern’s face. She had to respect that Faern tried to start an interrogation with an exhausted Draghted.

“Ye can bother me for it in the morning. Ye need to eat and ye need to sleep. We got much to do, and people to feed and move.” She couldn’t argue with his logic, although Talin certainly felt like her child was asking important questions of him. When they looked to her she gave a gesture toward the branches above where the Drakes they’d met the day before were anxiously perched.

“If you want to stay up, go settle them down. Kyn’s right that we should rest while we can. We don’t know how long that fire will burn and we don’t know if they had their own magicians in that battalion.” Talin endured the seething squint of her child’s eyes, and heard their frustrated grunt before they pulled back from Kyn and stalked over to the tree. They chose to leave by climbing up the bark with a refreshing new lack of restraint.

“I’m not explaining it to ye either, Tal.” Kyn’s first words when the rustling leaves over their heads began to settle down and indicate the drakes had been led away.

“Don’t want you to. You’re Indemnic yourself, known for a long time my friend. You need to get the engine right for tomorrow, we don’t know if Faern will carry the raft as far as it needs to go.” Talin appraised Kyn and how he reacted, almost laughing when he seemed surprised she would’ve recognized his towering frame, mahogany skin, and distinct accent as foreign to the short, narrow and pale national residents of Hocrayle.

“Kyn, your surname is Arseilles.” Asyla helpfully contributed from where she remained on a mossy cushion beside Talin. As his mate and an Opheli Serpent it wasn’t surprising she’d bait him. “Anyone with a Mage’s educa’ion would know you’re from Indemnis by lookin’ of you. Jus’ fix the ferry for the folk who aren’ tryin’ to save the world.”

“I’ll fix the boat in the morning. Tired from all that morphin’ I did for no reason.” Gruff and with a pointed look to Talin. “My hands’re too shaken to do the work without a rest. Could’ve had them try the spell first, Mage.”

“Could’ve told Faern you weren’t from Hocrayle when they were younger too.” Talin gave a nonchalant shrug and adjusted her shirt at the shoulders, her focus pointedly directed to her friend. “And you probably should have. Because Sire Itun is the drake that Faern’s gone off to chat with.”

“Itun is alive? Wait. Itun was– Shit!” The panic mounted utterly late into her friend, although she managed not to laugh at how he began to scan the branches above them searching for the now distant drakes.

“I suppose we’re all in for a long sit ‘n speak in the mornin’.” Asyla’s input as she rocked to her feet and offered a hand to help Talin up. “Explanations are wanted for, and ‘ey said who should say them.”

“Let’s all hope it goes better in the morning, shall we?” The Dragon Mage’s word on the matter as she saw herself into her house, leaving the lovers to do as they liked on the ferry for the few hours they’d have before the sun, and the Dragon themself, returned.

#Windscorn #Faern & Talin: Dynamic Duo #we are over 7k words into this arc and we are not done #writeblr #When I finish this arc I'm making a masterpost and should have my patreon set up

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natasharomanoffismywife · 4 years

Text

Hot For Teacher Part 3 (Nat x Y/n)

Here is part 3 :) this chapter is going to be told from the readers pov, so something different! :) Enjoy!! :) :)

“I wanted to remind you all tomorrow is career day so remember to bring in someone who is happy to speak about their jobs” I say cheerily to my class, they all start to cheer and talk animatedly when I remind them about tomorrow, not so much about talking about work but manly because they get to spend the whole school day showing off to those they bring. The bell rings signalling the end of the day so I dismiss my class as they all run out with their friends, well all of them minus one, Morgan Stark.

Morgan is a lovely, very polite child so she never leaves before walking up to me to say goodbye. The small dark haired girl bounds over with a huge smile making me smile back at her, her joy really is infectious.

“Goodbye Miss L/n, I’ll see you tomorrow with my auntie Nat!”She states to me before bounding out of the room leaving me to process that information, when I told the class about career day at the start of the year Morgan wouldn’t stop going on about how her dad and uncle Steve will be fighting over who gets to come as her guest. It never occurred to me that the redhead would come out on top as the winning party.

Things are going really well between myself and Natasha, since that lovely evening of our first day three weeks ago we have been on two more dates. The only thing is that neither of us has breached the subject of us becoming official, I really want to pull her into me asking her to be mine but I am just too nervous to break the pretty pink bubble that has encased us. I shake myself out of my daydream and I leave for car so I can go home and relax before the chaos of tomorrow, chaos doesn’t normally make me flustered but with the promise of spending the whole day with the redhead I want to call my girlfriend, I feel I deserve to be slightly flustered.

I sit down at my desk counting down the seconds until the bell rings signalling the start of what will surely be an exhausting day, my leg bouncing up and down while I tap relentlessly on my wooden desk with my pen.

Bringgggggggg

I jump up at the loud screech of the bell and open the classroom door welcoming my students and their companions, I stand by the door greeting every pair individually by smiling at the kids and shaking hands with the adults. It was going all well until the last pair steps up, Morgan sends me a megawatt smile to join with her normal good morning. I reply with my own smile and greeting before my breath gets taken away when I make eye contact the those green eyes I have fallen in love with, Natasha sends me a smirk as she offers her hand up in greeting, as if we have never met before. I shake myself out of my trance and shake her hand tightly, welcoming the warmth that emits from her touch.

“Hello my name is y/n l/n” I mumble out, her smirk grows bigger and one look at her eyes I can see how much fun she is having with this situation we find ourselves in.

“Hello Y/n, my name is Natasha Romanoff but I’m sure you already know that” She states confidently, my grip falls from her hand when she says this, I look at her wondering what she was playing at before she smoothly covered her ass. “You know what with being an Avenger and all, I’m a pretty big name” Natasha boasts cockily, I roll my eyes at her but smiles, she may be an ass but she is a hot ass. We walk away and they go and sit down at Morgan’s desk whilst I move to stand in front of mine.

“Hello and welcome to our Career day! Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedules to spend the day with me and my class, now since we have a lot to get through let’s get started! Tommy why don’t you start, come on and up and introduce us to your guest, come on let’s give it up for Tommy and his guest Luke” I say excitedly clapping, the whole room joining in soon after. I walk away from the front of the class and I go to sit at the back of the room, however I feel a hand grasp my wrist as I walked past the last desk to get to my seat, it was Morgan’s desk. Before I can make another movement I am pulled down into an empty seat next Natasha, I whip around to glare at her but I am met by a big smile as if she was not the one to manhandle me into a chair.

“I couldn’t let my favourite teacher sit all alone when I had a spare seat next to me, what kind of superhero would that make me? I’m your favourite for a reason” Nat whispers teasingly, I shake my head with a grin, if she wants to play then we can play alright.

“I dunno, I think my favourite is Captain America. Him throwing his shield around, talk about dreamy” I tease her back, I see her face drop into a cute pout that I just want to kiss. We whisper back and forth playing around teasing each other in between me thanking and introducing the next round of speakers, before we know it we are down to our last talk which is this pair of trouble makers.

I sit back down as the pair take the stage and I listen as the voice of Natasha washes over me, her voice is one of my favourite sounds. I lock eyes with an excited Morgan and nod indicating that she can start the talk.

“Hello, I want to introduce you to my auntie Natasha! She is going to be talking about being an Avenger, I brought her over my dad because while I love him and love Iron Man, auntieNat saves the world with no armour! How badass is that! Anyway here is auntie Nat” Morgan exclaims with a huge smile, everyone claps as Nat pats the dark haired girl on the back before stepping forward to the crowd.

“Thanks Morgan! Hey kids my name is Natasha but I am sure you all know me as the Black Widow, now can you guys name all the Avengers?” Natasha asks out passionately, grinning as every child’s hands shoot up with an answer. I sit back with a soft look on my face as I watch the avenger interact with the children, she may a tough, badass hero but she sure is a giant softie as well.

“Now I am going to show you all some basic self defence moves since you can never be too prepared, Miss L/n can you be my partner?” I am brought out of my trance by this question, I nod and hurry over to the front of the class. I look up at Natasha to see her grinning at me before turning her attention back to the class, I linger behind her and due to this positioning I find it very tough to keep my eyes from straying to her ass, her sexy ass, god damnit Y/n! Focus!

“Right miss l/n I want you to stand facing me and run at me ok?, kids take not on what I do” Natasha instructs, I do just as she says and before I make it to her body I feel her hands wrap around me and throw me down onto the floor making me grunt. The kids all gasp and cheer once I land on the floor, still a bit winded I gratefully take Nat’s offered hand and haul myself up.

“Don’t ever do that again without warning me” I mutter into her ear as I move to stand back behind her earning a chuckle, she goes step by step through what she had done and before I know it she asks me to stand in front of her.

“Ok now miss is going to hit out at me from behind her back, this is normally done if they want to be discreet about the attack.” I do just as she asks of me and soon find my arm being held back at a stiff angle and my leg getting kicked out from under me, as I fall down I make sure to grab ahold of her leg making her fall right on top of me. While the children are all laughing and cheering both Natasha and myself lock eyes and get lost in each others presence. I hear a subtle cough from Morgan who is stood beside me so we quickly break apart and return to talking to the group, just as we finish the lunch bell rings. I dismiss everyone and very quickly I find myself alone with Natasha, once the door is shut I turn onto the redhead and push her up against said door kissing her deeply, both of us moaning as we feel each others tongues invade each others mouths. We pull apart once we start to get a bit too heated for a lunch break at a primary school, I sit down on my desk chair with the redhead on my lap.

“What would you say if I was to ask you to be my girlfriend? would you still say Steve was dreamy?” Natasha asks with a smirk but deep down I can sense the nerves in her tone, I smile and press a soft kiss to the corner of her lips before pulling back.

“I thought you’d never ask”

There it is! I love this dynamic between these two, such fun to write :) Stay tuned for the next part! ;)

#hot for teacher #chapter three #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction

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the-great-imagines-of-1812 · 4 years

Text

Through The Years- Part 9

tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney

Summary: knowing that you must act now, you make your way to Germany, to S.H.I.E.L.D’s aid.

~~~~~~

MAY 3RD 2012

PARIS, FRANCE

9:00 PM.

You were scared. Scratch that, that’s an understatement. You were petrified.

Dismissing the missed calls notifications from Hill and Coulson, and make your way to a glass the hallway closet. Pushing on the button disguised as a light switch next to it, the door hiss and slide open. The silver suit of armor gleams in the fluorescent light. Over the past 60 something years, it hadn’t changed in the least.

“Hello old friend. Are you ready?” you asked, giving a lighthearted chuckle. As if the suit would answer. Taking it off it’s rack, you put it on. The familiar plates and buckles felt secure around you, and it almost felt like you were on a mission with the Howlies again.

Picking up the ear piece from the hook on the wall, you put it on your ear, making sure it was secure. You spoke into it “JARVIS?”

“Yes, ms. Stark?”

Opening the door to the building hallway, you looked both ways before speeding up the stairs that led to the roof level. “JARVIS, set course for Stuttgart.” specifying the location you saw on the news, too.

“Yes ms. Stark, right away.” The rocket-boots tony had installed on your armor the last time he visited you took off into the Paris night sky, and headed for Germany.

~~~~~~

STUTTGART, GERMANY

10:00 PM.

Landing on the roof of the museum, you tried to keep as quiet as you could, crouching down. From your line of view, you could see Steve, a group of hostages and a tall, reindeer? looking man.

You slid down a ladder off the side of the building quieter than a mouse, partly because you didn’t want to be shot at and partly because you didn’t want to startle the hostages.

“Kneel!” the man booms.

“No. Not today, not ever.” Steve stood his guard, hiding behind his shield. Interrupting the cold, tense night is “Shoot to Thrill” by- what was the band? You remember because Tony made you listen to them for hours upon hours. Oh, that was right. AC/DC.

Tony. Oh my god. It was going to be a shit show. He prepares a blast from his suit’s hand “Your move, reindeer games. Surrender or be terminated.”

Deciding it was time to crawl out form behind the wall, you pulled out not one, but both swords from your side. “Yea me too, Rudolph. You’ve got ten seconds. before I arrest you.” pointing one of the blades to his face while the other was behind your back, ready for any attack.

“Aunty! What’re you doing here?” Tony asked in surprise.

“Tony! Hi! Fury wouldn’t give me a break. So I thought to myself- why not join the party?” you said, inching closer to- Loki.

“You always did, Y/N. Welcome back.” Steve says in relief, with a sort of golden boy smile.

“Shut it, freedom.” Tony almost bursts into laughter. “Now, ‘god of mischief-’”

“The name is Loki and I am your kin-”

“I don’t like you very much. You know, last time I was in Germany, I was fighting a guy just like you.” you had now hooked one arm around his neck, the sword inching closer to his face. “I didn’t like him very much. I don’t like you either. You have 5 seconds.”

“How dare yo-”

It was so easy to distract him. You kick him in the back and handcuff his hands. “By order of the U.S military, you are under arrest. You’re coming with us.”

~~~~~~

THE QUINJET

All was quiet as the quinjet zoomed off from the ground, headed to New York. You and tony were talking on the side while Steve was tying Loki to his seat.

“It’s good to see you, Aunty. Hope you didn’t miss me that much.” Tony said, pulling away from the hug you were both in a second ago.

“Me? miss you? never.” you teased, smirking.

“Hey! you love me and you know it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve finishes the job and walks over to you and greets you with a hug. “Hey, Y/N. It’s good to have you back.”

“It sure feels good to be back. Although I’m not so sure.”

“Understandable. I don’t like this, guys.” he says all in one breath.

“What?” Tony asked, suit whirring. “Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

“Well Tony, I don’t remember the fight ever being that easy.”

“Say, you’re pretty spry for an older fellow. Do you do Pilates?”

“I’m sorry- What?”

“You might have missed it, spending so much time as a capsicle.” They are now face to face, the tension high.

It was way past time to intervene. “Ok, you two. You might’ve found your ego’s match, but we have way bigger matters at hand.” you said, separating them from one another.

Finally ripping his eyes of Tony, Steve turns to you and asks. “Y/N! So! Fury didn’t tell me he was calling you in.”

“I had no choice. He sort of broke into my apartment-”

“There’s a lot of things Fury doesn’t tell you, Rogers-” Tony began.

“Tony! That’s enoug-”

Thunder is heard, and the blinding white lightning in seen from the Quinjet’s windows. Thunder and Lightning nearly hit the jet, causing it to violently shake.

“Now- where’s all this coming from?” the red haired woman, who you learned her name was Natasha, asked.

The jet shakes again, more violently this time. And you’re afraid it might actually be struck down. Loki looks out the window, as if expecting something.

“You afraid of a little lightning, your highness?” Steve asks in a teasing tone, raising an eyebrow.

Loki looks back at Steve, with a devilish smirk “I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

The jet once again shakes and a blinding light shines through the window. You firmly stand your ground, while helping Tony up, who had fallen down a moment ago. But it’s not a light. It’s a man. A tall, well built man with long hair opens the hatch and grabs Loki by the neck and flies out.

Natasha, Tony, Steve and you stand there in shock, before you approach the hatch where they had both left a second ago.

“And now there’s this guy.” Tony breathed out, absolutely exasperated, putting on his helmet.

“You think he’s friendly?” Natasha asked, eyes darting between the three of you.

It suddenly felt as if you were on The Valkyrie just yesterday. A Tesseract was out there and Loki was using it for his own benefit. The situation seemed more similar than it should.

Coming back to reality, you answered Natasha’s question. “It doesn’t matter. If this guy free or kills Loki, it won’t matter; the Tesseract will be lost.” Steve’s eyes dart to you. He knows what you’re thinking about, and gives a silent nod of acknowledgement to the situation.

You get ready to jump as Tony comes up beside you. “You Starks have and will always be reckless. We need a plan, you two.” Steve said.

“I do have a plan, Iced Americano. Attack.” Tony said, looking at you, then proceeding to jump out, you following close behind.

“How do they even know each other? Why haven’t I met her until now, Steve?” Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

“She- She’s Howard’s sister. She went into the ice with me, couple decades back. She’s his aunt.”

“Alright. Be careful, these men come form legend, they’re practically gods.”

“There’s only one god, ma’am. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” with this, Steve jumps out of the jet.

~~~~~~

Thor, Tony and you have been falling through the air, somewhere in Europe at least for the past 30 seconds or 30 minutes; you wouldn’t exactly know. You weren’t counting.

The three of you make it to the ground with a loud thud. The rustling of trees and leaves ad the crunching of sticks fills the otherwise silent forest. Before you can comprehend what’s going on, this man- Thor had you in a headlock.

“Don’t touch me again, puny human!” Thor boomed, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck.

“Oop yea, that’s gonna leave a mark.” you said as best as you could, obviously tripping over you words and stuttering, given your current situation.

“Shut it, point break. I won’t touch you ever again, but let my aunt go.”

Thor releases his arm from around you, and you fell to the floor with a gasp of breath. Tony helps you up and lets you lean on him until you gain back most of your strength.

“You lot have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“Really, Shakespeare in the park? Tell me, doth mother know you weareth her drapes?” Tony teased Thor, while helping you stand upright.

“Loki WILL face Asgardian justice.” Thor said, trying to convince the both of you.

“Listen, Thor-” you approach him “If he gives up the Tesseract, he’s all yours.”

“Yea, she’s definitely the smarter one of this pair.” Tony breathed out, putting the helmet back on. “Until then, stay out of our way, Rapunzel.”

This makes Thor angry. He lifts his hand up in the air to catch the his hammer. He then proceeds to throw it at the both of you, knocking Tony and you to the side, harshly.”

I’m saved. Is the only thought in your head as the quinjet makes it’s landing in the forest, and Steve lands in front of it. “Hey, That’s enough!” Steve looks Thor up and down. “Now, calm down. I don’t know what you plan on doing here.”

“I’m here to put and end to Loki’s schemes!”

“Then prove it, if your so tough. Put. The. Hammer. Down.”

“Yeah, capsicle. That might not be the best idea. Dude loves that thing.” Tony said, helping you up from the ground.

“You want me to let go of this hammer?” Thor said, lowering his voice. He then proceeds to bring it high into the air to strike it against Steve’s shield, making a blinding light shine throughout the dark forest.

You and Tony stand there in shock, as the force of the hammer on the shield knocked Steve to the ground. Thor never takes his eyes off the three of you.

“Are we done here?”

~~~~~~

THE BRIEFING ROOM ON THE HELLICARRIER

“Be careful how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he’s my brother.”

“Thor- I don’t know if you’re aware, but he killed 80 people in two days.” Natasha informed, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“He’s adopted.”

“Um- A-Anyway, I’m doctor Bruce Banner it’s good to meet y-you guys.” The poor man was clearly nervous and shaking, if you squinted your eyes enough.

“It’s good to meet you doctor, I’m Y/N.” you shook his hand, although he seemed hesistant.

“Yes, yes, oh my god. How could I forget? I absolutely love your work I’m a big admirer.”

“Thank you, doctor-”

“Hey, Banner. Hands of the Aunt.”

“Tony, leave him alone.”

“Well, I-”

The doors hiss open, to reveal Nick Fury, with Maria Hill behind him. “Doctor Banner is only here to help u track down the cube. I was hoping Pain In the Ass #1 and Pain In the Ass #2 would like to help him.”

“Loving the nicknames, director.” Tony said, in a sassy manner.

“Gee thanks, Fury. I know you missed me.” you said, in the same way Tony did.

“This is why you two have those. Good god.”

“Moving on to the actual issue- Let’s start with that stick of his- Loki’s. But it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“Captain, I don’t know about that. But it is powered by the cube. And I wanna know what is it that it does that turns two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.” Fury said.

“Monkeys?” Thor asked. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”

“I do! I understood that reference!” Steve says excitedly, while Tony rolls his eyes from besides you.

“Steve, shut up! You’re making us look bad!” You whispered-yelled.

“Meeting adjourned, ladies and gentlemen.” Fury states.

Tony then turns to Dr. Banner and you, about to strike up conversation “Well, you two. The professor-”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

“-and the doctor. Shall we play?”

#the avengers #the avengers x reader #tony stark x aunt reader #marvel #marvel x reader #howard stark #Howard Stark x sister! reader #natasha romanoff x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #clint barton #bruce banner #loki odinson #thor odinson

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plum-pudding-and-honey · 3 years

Text

MONTHLY RANGE : Eight & Charley

Storm Warning - 3.5/5 : the plot is not the best thing I've ever seen but it's still a good introduction story for Eight on audio and to be fair it just made me want to drop everything and hop after him. I like Charley's background but I really just can't stand her. I don't hate her, she's interesting and I totally understand that people love her but I've never really warmed up to her. I also have a problem with the "classic" format : 4 episodes of 20-30 minutes which, sure, allows the writers to give the story and the characters more development, but which I find particularly long. I just find it very hard to focus for two hours, unless the story is very compelling

Sword of Orion - 3/5 : (god this is loooong) The atmosphere was interesting, so was Deeva (although I thought her being an android was quite obvious but wtv). The other side characters were all quite boring though and I couldn't bring myself to care about them. The android/human war was also an interesting point, it's a shame it didn't get developed more than that

The Stones of Venice - 1.5/5 : Oh my God do I hate this. Two hours which felt more like six hours of whining and complaining and "Estella, my beloved, forgive me here" and in the end, I'm not even sure whether I want to kill the Duke or myself. Just... zero empathy for this guy and Estella. Pietro was a bit more interesting although fish gondoliers who have evolved to survive the sinking of the city? Really? No. (Not just because evolution doesn't happen over a hundred years. Try a million.) Churchwell was equally annoying (I mean, as a librarian, I'm all for art preservation but have some decency here man) and the cult, well I've got no opinion whatsoever on them, that's how useless they are in all of this. The only thing that kinda made this thing worthwhile was this bit of conversation between the Doctor, Charley and that gondolier guy about the Duke waiting a hundred years for Estella and how Charley points out how long it is waiting for someone to return and how Eight DID wait a hundred years before seeing Fitz again and I'm not okay about this (and this was released shortly after Escape Velocity was published so I'm definitely gonna take this as a Fitz reference fight me on this)

Minuet in Hell - 3/5 : The Doctor being imprisoned and amnesiac for 3/4 of the episode was very looong. I liked the interactions with Gideon Crane but since the viewer already knows which one is the real Doctor, I really didn't see the point of making this last for so long. Also it robbed us of more Eight/Brig time and that's a shame. And those American accents are just horrible, I couldn't understand most of what Dale and the Senator were saying. The vilains and the Psi (psy?) machine were kinda interesting (although they also sounded pretty annoying) but in two hours and a half, they really could have been developed a bit more. Same goes for Becky Lee and her supernatural hunter gig that was way underused. The Brigadier is a huge asset, let's be honest. And the EDAs are canon in the BF universe, so that's that. (yes there was a Fitz reference in The Stones of Venice, I will not shut up)

Invaders from Mars - 2/5 : I love the idea behind this episode : the panic caused by Orson Welles' reading of the War of the Worlds, a false invasion in fact hiding a real invasion. It could have been great. But it's not. First, those accents and voices, again NO. For a medium that relies only on sounds, it's really a big issue here (I mean how are you supposed to take the alien invaders seriously with those voices???). Mark Gatiss loves the Ice Warriors and we've seen with the Empress of Mars that he can write decent episodes with them so why didn't he use them here? It could have been so creepy (which, for a Halloween episode, would have been neat). Instead he gives us a cheap version of invaders, a nazi guy, Russians and an atomic bomb, and mobsters. And it's too much, it's too confusing, it's too many characters. It's a mess. The Doctor is adorable playing private detective but then he accidentally reveals his plan to the bad guys (I mean...) and the aliens are killed by the Russian guy everybody thought to be dead and his atomic bomb : no, that's bullshit. Also, bury your gays : totally gratuitous and unnecessary (what was even the point?). Yeah, huge disappointment.

The Chimes of Midnight - 6/5 : cHriStmAs wOuLdN't bE cHriStmAs wiThOuT oNe oF mY pLuM puDdiNgS (tfbgvfgtv) Finally something GOOD. Eight is at his best sassfull self, the different parts are well articulated, it's funny and creepy at the same time and the paradox surrounding Charley is well exploited. Robert Shearman even succeeded in making me care about Charley. Edith is touching, even the other characters are, and that ending is really nicely done and coherent. I also really like how Eight is depicted here, especially in his relationship to Charley (and his companions in general). He really cares about her and yet he doesn't tell her the truth, he's been lying to her ever since Storm Warning because he selfishly hopes that if he doesn't speak about it, it's all gonna go away, just like he will do later with Lucie and her auntie Pat and that's Eight in all his glory : he loves his companions but he's got this kind of superiority complex that makes him think he knows better than them and which makes him treat them like shit more often than not (and ok, Charley gets a lot of crap from him). They are all aware of that, as we are, and yet they still love him and we still love him and I don't even know why.

Seasons of Fear - 3.5/5 : The format was interesting, the change of scenery for each episode really helped to not lose interest in the story. I also liked Grayle, he's an interesting villain but the immortality thing could have been handled a bit better in my opinion, especially the losing your loved ones part. I actually liked Charley there and her varied suggestions to get rid of Grayle. The mystery around her thickens and I did not remember that ending! The Nimons were a bit unexpected but ok I guess. But I found the conclusion very disappointing, too easy.

Embrace the Darkness - 4/5 : I love the atmosphere of this one, especially the beginning : the "something touches you in the dark and you realise it's not your friend" trope is classic but the audio only aspect of the thing gives it something more (especially of you listen to it in the dark). Like the previous one, I liked the pace (it didn't feel like this thing would never end which is something worth mentioning). The fact that there aren't too many characters also helps a lot. And I can't help myself to compare it with Sword of Orion : the settings are similar, it's a huis-clos, and they're both written by Nick Briggs. I find Embrace the Darkness much better, the characters are actually likeable (and they all don't die at the end, quite the opposite) and interesting. The Cimmerians were also nicely done and I really liked how different senses are brought into focus here, how the viewer is brought closer to the characters because they can't see. Hearing becomes central then but taste and touch are also prominent (I especially liked the way the Cimmerians share their history with the Doctor and Charley). The Doctor is well-written (I love his "conversations" with Rosum) and this tendency to self pity himself every time he makes a mistake is very Eight (Orbis).

The Time of the Daleks - 2.5/5 : The first part was good. And then it got so confusing, I actually lost the plot several times because my mind kept drifting away. There are way too many comings and goings through those portals, too many side characters that weren't interesting in the least. Learman's motivations as a villain are ridiculous (she wants to kill Shakespeare to be the only one who remembers him because everyone else is too stupid to understand his works... yeah, right).

Neverland - 4.5/5 : Zagreus sits inside your head, Zagreus lives among the dead, Zagreus sees you in your bed and eats you when you're sleeping (sorry I had to put it). So … yeah, that was breath-taking. That was an amazing conclusion for Charley's arc, the neverpeople are pretty cool and Romana and Rassillon are a nice little treat. The plot is coherent and the two hours and a half passed very quickly which is always worth mentioning. About Eight and Charley, now. As I said, I'm not a fan of Charley : I find her too perfect (and I just can't stand how she speaks, I know it's kinda shallow but when her voice is the only thing you get out of her, that becomes kind of a big deal) and I really don't ship her with Eight (although I recognise that they might be romantically involved, a lot like Ten and Rose, I simply choose to not see it). That being said, I liked how she stood up to the Doctor at the beginning, how she called him out on his bullshit ("Happy Birthday, Charley! Happy Birthday, he says. Only it isn't my birthday. It isn't my birthday because I'm not supposed to have any more birthdays") and used the TARDIS against him. I also liked her comparison with Peter Pan because, yeah, that's the Doctor, she gets it. I understand why she asked him to shoot her at the end but I don't think she was fair asking him to do it because she knows, everybody knows, that he won't do it. He won't do it for someone he despises, so Charley? Nope. And yeah, her dying was the obvious solution, I get that, but that's the epitome of everything I don't like about her. Charley Pollard, always making the right decision even if it means sacrificing herself, Charley Pollard always nice and caring and clever and adventurous, and in a way she reminds me of Rose (although Rose was a jerk to Mickey) and I hate Rose. As for the Doctor... Finally he gets the consequences of his actions and yet you can't help but feel sorry for him. Because like Charley said he’s sweet and he truly thinks what he’s doing is good. And that cliff-hanger! I AM BECOME ZAGREUS! YES BABY. In conclusion, it’s a great episode, regardless of my feelings towards Charley

Zagreus - 4/5 : Let's be honest, the first time I listened to it, I hated it with all my guts (and I also fell asleep at some point in the middle), so I wasn't really looking forward to giving it another chance. But I'm glad I did. This time I really took the time to listen to it properly and knowing roughly where this was going, I loved it? I mean ok, this thing is more than three hours (not gonna lie, this was really difficult for me) and it's completely bonkers and WTF but there IS a certain coherence to the thing that I hadn't picked on the first time I listened to it. So, let's start with the obvious : Zagreus/the Doctor/Paul McGann giving us the performance of his life. He's GREAT and if I didn't already love him I would certainly after this. He's creepy and disturbing as Zagreus (he slapped Charley!!) and his voice when he's the Doctor, when he begs Charley to kill him ... yeah, I was dying inside there. By the way, I liked the parallel with Neverland and Charley begging the Doctor to kill her, except that she actually does it. The Brigadier/TARDIS was equally brilliant. I got a lot of the Doctor's Wife vibes here - except that the TARDIS is evil and HATES the companions, and her conversation with the Doctor, her fit of jealousy was brilliantly done. I also loved the bits with Five, Six and Seven (except it's not really them but it actually is) and they were hilarious when they're working together towards the end (Tweedledee, Tweedledum and Tweedle-ego). It was a nice hommage to Alice in Wonderland, coherent until the end (and let's be honest the bit with Schrodinger's cat only it's the Doctor who is in the box? Brilliant. Again.) And as an anniversary episode, it worked for me. I probably didn't get all the references but I picked up a few of them and it was nice to include the BF cast, even if it wasn't in their usual roles.

Overall opinion : This is not as bad as I remembered. I postponed relistening to these for a long time because I remembered it way worse than it actually is (in my defence, I listened to those episode some 8 years ago when my English wasn't so fluent). I still don't like the classic format because most of the episodes feel reaaaaally long and I'm not a fan of Charley. I did like her arc though, it was interesting to explore the fixed in time events and the consequences of the Doctor kicking the laws of time in the nuts, way before Ten. The resolution of this arc was also brilliant in my opinion with the anti-time and the Time Lords/Rassillon mythology. The quality is fluctuant : the Stones of Venice, Invaders from Mars and the Time of the Daleks being the bottom of the barrel while the Chimes of Midnight, Embrace the Darkness and Neverland/Zagreus are amazing. And Eight changes so much through his life : he's so hopeful and sweet and utterly optimistic, a drastic difference from the Time War series (which I just finished before listening to this) where, although his core qualities are still there, deep down, he's lost so much and been through so much crap from everyone. I don't know if any other Doctor went through that much (War Doctor excluded) tbh. His relationship to his companions is also quite unique I think, maybe I'll write something about that one day. Now for the Divergent Universe arc, which I don't remember fondly either. Let's see if I change my mind as well.

#doctor who #eight #eighth doctor #charley pollard #big finish #storm warning #sword of orion #the stones of venice #minuet in hell #invaders from mars #the chimes of midnight #seasons of fear #embrace the darkness #the time of the daleks #neverland #zagreus

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kurowrites · 4 years

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This Cursed Broken Heart - Part II

Second part to this. All parts. I wanted to finish the entire thing, but I don’t have the energy right now, so well. Have part two of three or four, idk.

---

Sunday comes, and Wei Ying’s nervousness has not abated one bit.

He doesn’t have to be worried about Lan Zhan, he knows that. Lan Zhan has always been a favourite with his extended family, because let’s face it, Lan Zhan is the kind of boy you want to introduce to your family. Lan Zhan is the kind of man that your family hopes you’ll marry one day.

Wei Ying is the kind of boy your family always warns you about.

That error in judgement really came back to haunt Lan Zhan later on. Wei Ying still remembers the moment when he looked at Lan Zhan and realised that they were stuck in a hole they couldn’t get out of. And that’s when he had known it was time to leave.

He doesn’t have to be worried about Lan Zhan, but he has to be worried about his own messy feelings.

He picks Lan Zhan up at 10 o’clock sharp, and as always, Lan Zhan is already waiting for him. He’s wearing a form-fitting white three-piece suit and a light blue shirt today, but has foregone a tie to break the formal stiffness of the look. Instead, a patterned silk handkerchief in tucked into his breast pocket. He looks effortlessly elegant, as if he’s just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Wei Ying hates it, because goddamn, it makes him feel inadequate. His own black suit and red shirt combo make him look crummy in comparison.

It also makes him want to worship at the altar of Lan Zhan again.

He slaps his best smile on his face and leads Lan Zhan to the car.

“Just tell Granny Yu you’ve been very busy with work if she asks anything private, ok?” he tells Lan Zhan as they drive off. “And ignore Jiang Cheng. He’s grumpy because I managed to recruit you. He has to face the aunties on his own now. They’re going to try and matchmake this year too, set him up with some unsuitable and unlucky girl, I have no doubt. He hates it, but he still never manages to tell them to stop.”

“You are not dating?” Lan Zhan asks, which isn’t really what Wei Ying intended Lan Zhan to take away from this conversation.

Wei Ying shoots him a quick, considering look, but Lan Zhan isn’t looking at him.

“No,” he says eventually. “That would be a little weird, wouldn’t it? ‘I know we’re dating but I need to take my ex to this party because Granny Yu expects him to come.’ No, that wouldn’t work out well. Might as well ask them to break up with me at once.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t deign an answer to that, and keeps staring out of the car window in silence. Wei Ying falls silent, too, not knowing what to talk about next. Every topic seems to be fraught with dificculties. He knows so much about Lan Zhan, but asking him about his rabbits, his brother or if work is going well seems either shallow or cruel, depending on how you look at it.

They drive on without speaking again, until they finally arrive at the venue.

“There we are,” Wei Ying sighs. “Okay, Lan Zhan, it’s time to put on your boyfriend hat. Have you decided what you want as your reward? Remember that I’m poor, though. I can’t get you expensive things.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply, but he gets out of the car and goes around to the other side, so he can help Wei Ying out. He often did that, when they dated; old-fashioned chivalry that never failed to make Wei Ying blush. As if it still comes natural to him, Lan Zhan’s hand settles on the small of Wei Ying’s back once he’s out of the car, and he guides him towards the entrance with an ease Wei Ying is jealous of. A pulse of white-hot electricity races up and down Wei Ying’s spine at being touched this way by Lan Zhan.

Not a single person has touched him like this for an entire year, and the fact that it’s Lan Zhan who’s doing it, doing it again, makes something in Wei Ying’s brain go a little fuzzy.

They step into the fancy restaurant that Jiang Fengmian reserved for his birthday party, and they are immediately welcomed by a stampeding horde of noisy relations. Everyone is here, from his little toddler cousins to that one great-aunt that’s like a hundred years old, and it’s both painfully familiar and yet also tinged with a sense of enduring strangeness. None of these people are connected to him by blood, after all. He’s not here because he belongs.

He never even met his actual grandparents.

Lucky for Wei Ying, Lan Zhan is a bastion of calm in the noisy chaos of the Jiang family coming to greet them. They congratulate Jiang Fengmian and enjoy the thirty seconds of attention he can bestow upon them, and then continue greeting all other members of the family. Lan Zhan sticks to his side, so he simply stays right where he is, half-shielded by Lan Zhan, and pastes a friendly smile on his face.

‘Yes, look here,’ he says to himself. ‘Your token gay cousin and his boyfriend are here.’

It’s a ridiculous notion, but it keeps him smiling. And it’s not wrong. Most of the offspring in the Jiang family has married early, and everyone married a heterosexual partner. All of them also got busy producing more offspring basically from the wedding night onwards. The only notable exception is Jiang Cheng, who is a late bloomer if there has ever been one, and Wei Ying, of course. Wei Ying, who always thought he was straight but never felt he should date or marry, until he fell head over heels for Lan Zhan. Wei Ying, who hasn’t looked at another person since.

Literally any other cousin in this family that is over the age of eighteen is married and has produced at least one child already. It’s kind of insane.

“Lan Zhan!” a voice drowns out the general cacophony of noise. “It’s so good to see you!”

And out of the middle of the crowd appears a tiny old woman, leaning heavily on her cane. Granny Yu is as old as stone, and her legs are bad, but her voice still carries with the vigour of a woman who’s used to being obeyed.

Lan Zhan obediently leans down so Granny Yu can inspect him. As usual, she seems to have no complaints as far as Lan Zhan is concerned. When she turns her eyes to Wei Ying, however, they become critical.

“Wei Ying!” she belts. “You are so thin! Look at you! Lan Zhan! Are you feeding him right?”

“Granny Yu,” Wei Ying tries to appease her, “I’m already an adult, I can take care of myself.”

“Nonsense,” Granny Yu grouses. “You’ve always been a terrible eater. Always hoarding your food until it went bad. Lan Zhan, you need to make sure that he’s eating.”

It’s embarrassing, to get reminded of the little habits he picked up while living on the streets. He got rid of that particular habit one year or so after he was adopted by the Jiang family, but Granny Yu never forgot about the time when she discovered his little food hoard, and has been checking his size, weight and general health ever since. She always tells her many grandchildren to eat, but with Wei Ying she’s that more tenacious. And once Wei Ying started dating Lan Zhan, she never failed to remind Lan Zhan to feed him properly. And Lan Zhan, with infinite patience, agreed with her every single time, promising to take care of Wei Ying.

Well, he did use to feed Wei Ying. But Wei Ying’s current state, which he thinks is hardly different from his usual state, is not Lan Zhan’s responsibility. If he’s a little thinner than usual, that’s on himself. Still, Lan Zhan nods seriously as he’s being admonished by Granny Yu.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, and it’s easy to lay his hand on Lan Zhan’s chest to get his attention, as if he never stopped doing it. “Don’t listen to her. I can feed myself.”

Lan Zhan looks at him, and the mulish expression on his face is familiar enough that Wei Ying can read it immediately. Lan Zhan has said it to him before: ‘A little more weight won’t hurt you. And a little more food does neither make you greedy nor a glutton.’

“I will eat to my heart’s content today, Granny Yu,” Wei Ying says out loud, because he really wants to shut down this discussion as soon as possible. “So don’t blame Lan Zhan, hmm?”

Granny Yu seems slightly mollified by his promise. She huffs once, and then starts herding people towards where she wants them at the large tables prepared for them.

Wei Ying is relieved once Granny Yu is gone. The first test has been passed, and no one seems to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

That changes the next moment when Jiang Cheng suddenly appears next to Wei Ying.

“I can’t believe you actually brought him with you,” he hisses into Wei Ying’s ear.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying warns him. “We’ve talked about this.”

“You’re just trying to garner points with Granny Yu,” Jiang Cheng shoots back. “Because she always liked you best.”

Before anything more can be said, Wei Ying finds himself pulled away from Jiang Cheng. He just catches Lan Zhan’s angry glare (directed at Jiang Cheng) out of the corner of his eye, then he’s maneuvered to the seats that have been reserved for him and Lan Zhan.

“Sorry,” Wei Ying whispers to Lan Zhan once they’re seated. “I warned him like three times not to say anything.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply, but he takes Wei Ying’s hand into his own and lifts it to press a kiss on his knuckles.

The lips that brush his skin are soft and warm. It’s so gentle, and so sweet.

It’s too much.

The gesture is far too intimate; too intimate for what they are no more, too intimate for the occasion, too intimate for Wei Ying’s heart.

He pully his hand out of Lan Zhan’s hold, attempting to make it seem natural and not like he’s trying to escape the affection of his own (fake) boyfriend. Still, he has to take a few deep breaths to collect himself. It’s too much. He feels shaky. He was a fool when he thought he could casually see Lan Zhan for one day and not be haunted by the ghosts of the past that he never managed to exorcise the entire time.

Lan Zhan doesn’t try to engage him again. Instead, he exchanges a few words with one of Wei Ying’s uncles seated across the table, and the bustling around them continues as if everything is perfectly fine, until the food finally arrives.

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #broken heart fic

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