#its supposed to be a silly goofy idea that came into my head on my drive home to my parents house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eremiie · 3 years

Text

hbd cornelius springer <3

❥ nsfw | 3.2k words | connie x fem!reader

❥ content - blowjob

❥ the birthday boy deserves some birthday head!!!

happy birthday connie springer, and happy belated birthday @arlerted ily both a whole lot <3... i started this at like 4am so pls bare with this

"you enjoying your birthday?"

connie turns around at the sound of your voice, soda can in hand while he closes the fridge door.

the way his face lights up when he connects your voice to your face makes you beam. his eyes get wide, eyebrows rise up, and a crooked smile graces his features as you walk forth, your hand trailing against the kitchen counter.

it makes you smile, the ways he's immediately stoked to see you. it's endearing if anything and your heart flutters at the excitement that twinkles in his eyes at your appearance.

"duh... yeah of course i like it."

his stupid smile shifts into a small smirk and he picks up his drink to take another sip. "what're you lookin' at?"

seriously? were you that obvious?

he leans back against the corner of the kitchen counter, twirling the soda can in his hand to shake his drink up while steadying himself with his elbows. you can tell the question was one he was genuinely waiting on an answer for— it was to just rile you up and one for him to shrug off with a 'just messin'.

you roll your eyes. there was no reason to give him an ego. "your ugly party hat." your tone is snarky, and a breathy laugh leaves connie's throat as he shakes his head at you. he beckons with two slender fingers.

"come 'ere."

your stomach turns at the gesture— no at the sentence and you curse the slight stubbornness that keeps you standing where you stood with your arms crossed. "what?"

connie holds your gaze easily, and instead of giving you an answer his hand reaches out to pull you towards him by your forearm.

you stumble forward until you were situated between his feet, a strong hand encasing your wrists and his breath fanning across your face from the proximity of you and connie.

his eyes look more hazel up close, green and yellow dancing like a fiery bright fire. you can feel the denim of his jeans rub against the fat flesh of your thighs from where you stand, and connie makes no effort to move back.

it's a clear invasion of your space but neither you or him seem to mind— and you hope connie didn't take the way your heart jumps in your chest and your suddenly uneven breathing as a sign that you did mind. no, it was the exact opposite of that if anything.

"are you enjoying the party?" his voice comes out a little too smooth for your liking. where was the slight cracks in his voice as he spoke or the lilts in his tone as he tried his best to be a flirt?

the way he looks at you doesn't help. his eyes are low lying, having trouble staying focused on only just yours. you notice them flit a little lower every now and then before popping back up to match your gaze.

you hoped you came off as unbothered— stable and unfazed by his sudden demeanor. if it wasn't obvious by now your slight attraction to connie was something that you couldn't seem to let go of ever since you had first met him.

you hated how goofy he was and how the lame jokes he'd crack would always make you laugh regardless of how stupid. you hated how somehow he'd always coerce you to do the handy work when it came to class projects because he was too lazy to get up off his own ass and help you. you hated how even through all these little silly quirks of his if he really wanted to with a few slip ups here and there he could make the hairs on your arms stand and have you stop breathing just from a slick look and slick sentence.

you hated all these things because they all made you feel gushy inside no matter how dumb it was. they made your body warm and gave you this comforting feeling that you couldn't get from anyone else.

so when connie repeats another "hm?" catching you off guard for the second time, that warm feeling returns because this time the pads of his fingers drum against your shoulder, a little to close to the junction near your neck.

"as long as ymir and sash keep me entertained, then yeah. this little 'party' isn't that bad." your quick with your response this time once he sets you back on track and you calm a bit.

"so ymir 'n sash are the life of the party for ya?" he pouts, and you scrunch your nose up when he leans in a little more, a mock pitiful expression on his face. "damn, 'n i'm supposed to be the birthday boy... that's crazy."

you can tell he's a little under the influence. despite it being his birthday he was actual one out of a few to keep their drinking at a light tonight. you couldn't say the same for armin who was currently passed out and curled up at the safety of mikasa's side on the large sofa, or for reiner who was last crying to ymir before she managed to 'shut the fuck up jockey' him as you walked pass.

you liked it like this though, liked to know that the interactions between you and connie weren't entirely the alcohol talking.

but it wasn't like it was ever really anything but him talking when he got more than comfortable with you.

light touches up the soft skin of your thighs, moving you around by placing his hands on your waist (where you must say they fit like a puzzle), or attacking you in tickles when he decided to crash at you and sasha's place and you wouldn't pass up the remote.

those were all connie, but it was nice to know that the person in front of you was mostly connie as well.

"you are... you just haven't been keeping me company as you should have." you lift up a hand right in front of his face and pretend to inspect your nails before dropping four fingers down to your palm and turning your nails to you once again.

connie let's out a low laugh at the gesture before using his own palm to cup the top of your hand. you expect him to push it down and let go but he only holds it in his grip with that same dumb smile plastered on his face as he doesn't fail to keep eye contact with you.

"ha-ha, so funny. you act like we didn't dance together," you recall the memory of connie hoisting you up from the couch and spinning you around until your backside was pressed against him, asking you to 'dance'. if anything that encounter is probably what encouraged the tingle between your legs and pushed you to follow connie into the kitchen. "sit together for like a good ass while, and play cards together— cheating together i might add."

you giggle, "did eren not realize that practically half the deck was under my ass and in your pockets?" connie reciprocates your giggle in his cheery tone and he raises the soda can to his lips again to empty it out inside his mouth.

"nah, but for real, what more company do you need?"

in the back of your head you had a solid idea of the kind of company you needed from connie, but you weren't even sure if your mind was quick enough to formulate it into a sentence that sounded appealing to the ears, enticing even.

a dramatic sigh leaves your lips and your hands come up to connie's head, one index plucking at the thin string below his chin and the other one holding the loud party hat until you were pulling it off and fiddling with it in your hand.

connie's hand automatically comes to rub at the short grey strands with a small frown at the absence of his hat. he stands up straight so he's peering down at you and his arm swings over your shoulder as he begins walking the two of you towards the exit to the kitchen abandoning his empty can of soda. "what?"

you slow down your pace so that he slows down and pull his arm from around you just as quickly as he placed it there massaging his knuckles in the process.

the eagerness to stay alone with him and not go back out where the chatters of all your friends would become tenfold is what makes you more bold, is what makes you back connie up towards the kitchen island until your practically leaning on him with doe eyes, fluttering your lashes and saying, "just wanna be alone with you for a minute..." you hesitate for a moment before beginning to speak again, "i gotta present for you, but we gotta go upstairs."

it's like your words alone manage to somewhat crack the demeanor he had going on. how his mouth slightly parts and how his body tenses up slightly tells you. you're thankful for the small adrenaline rush a measly walk to the archway gave you.

"shit, what's upstairs?" you relish in how he feeds into your words instead of stuttering under pressure and his hand moves to the small of your back pulling you even closer.

it's noticeable that he likes to feel your skin on his, and his hands are warm against the skin of your hip, practically singeing it with just his touch. it sends a hot feeling throughout your body and you indulge in him some more, fully enveloping your hand with his free one and giving a nice smile.

"if you come with me then it'll be me and you," and he lets you pull him along like a dog on a leash, sticking as close to its owner as possible as he's so close behind you that you can feel him up against your back as you begin to nonchalantly walk past your group of friends conversing in the living room.

for you it's easy to ignore their remarks and looks of 'finally'. after all, you knew they were coming. but connie couldn't, shooting silly faces to his audience as he lets you pull him along.

"they're finally fucking."

"go, birthday boy!"

"gettin' some birthday pussy!"

"_______, bite his dick off for me!"

the only phrase to elicit some sort of reaction from you is the mumbly one from sasha from whatever was in her mouth as she encouraged you to injure connie.

all the phrases seem to get one out of connie, from him pretending to fuck you from behind causing you to pinch the tan skin of his wrist to him making kissy faces at jean, eren, and even to ymir who further encouraged you to take a chomp out of his little friend.

you lead him through his bedroom door, immediately locking it because you know he'll forget and then turning to face him again.

when you turn back around connie's still looming over you, his hands lankily at his sides and it's as if he doesn't know what to do with them.

it makes you titter, and you take a step towards him pulling at his wrists place his hands back on your hips. "so what's my present?"

your hands come up to come his face and his skin is soft under your touch. he's warm and his breathing is unsteady as you lean forward to press your lips onto his.

he quickly returns the kiss, more fervently than you if anything. connie immediately groans as if the feeling of your lips on his was something he was craving.

connie pushes you against the door, a small thud eliciting from the way your back hits it and he lets go of your hips to cup your face and bring you deeper into the kiss.

the way he presses up so close against you makes you part your lips slightly giving him enough time to slip his tongue into your mouth until it's slotted alongside yours.

his knee parts your legs and bump against your crotch making you moan and let go of his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

you pull back to breathe for a brief moment— and connie's eyes are overcast with lust. he doesn't have that twinkle from earlier and his grip on your hips is tighter than it was a few seconds ago.

he breathes heavily and rests his forehead against yours then dropping his knee. "that wasn't all i get for my birthday, right?"

with another roll of your eyes you shake your head. "it'd be a little rude of me to leave you like this, yeah?"

you slide down the wall until your knees hit the carpet and sit back on your shins. your delicate hands slide down connie's chest until the tips of your fingers are brushing over the buckle of his belt.

"yeah," connie's eyes flutter shut and he places a hand on the door to once again steady himself. "'d be real fuckin' rude of you."

your hands make work of his belt, unclasping the loop, unzipping the zipper and unbuttoning his pants to begin shrugging down the denim.

you had barely even started doing anything yet connie's mouth was slightly parted in anticipation. it was amusing how even the slightest touch from you could elicit a reaction out of him.

you pride yourself in this, and you take your time letting your fingertips massage the length of connie's clothed cock beneath his boxers. his body stutters overtop of you for a quick second and you move your hands to the hem of his boxers to begin pulling them down.

he's pretty; a slightly flushed tip that complimented the tan color of his skin. he's clearly already hard and you swear when your hand wraps around him his dick twitches in your touch. "god," he mumbles.

his dick is heavy in your hand, and he's thick to the touch. with a few test pumps you prop yourself up on your knees once more and place a hand over his thigh. "c'mon," his tone is encouraging yet hurrying, needy.

you click your tongue at him before using it to kitten lip his tip, like you were just trying to get a taste. connie hisses above you and drops his hand down to the top of your head.

"c'mon, we can't take too long with everyone still down there."

you know he's only saying so because he wants to feel your mouth around him. he's only being needy because it's something he'd been craving over the course of a few months. you are something he had been craving and now that you were under him he wanted all of you, starting with what you were willing to give which happened to be your pretty throat.

nevertheless, he's the birthday boy and you want to help pleasure him, making him feel a euphoric feeling that you know he's longed for.

you stick your tongue out and slap his tip against the flat of your tongue, and connie lets out another short groan, his fingers scrunching your hair.

connie shudders from above you and you almost feel bad for teasing him. you let the warmth of your mouth consume him completely— well, as far as you can while your hand works at the remainder.

"yeah, yeah..." he hums and he opens his eyes again to look down at you.

your mouth around him felt heavenly, and the image of you sucking him off was even better; cheeks hollowed out and hand pumping his length.

you were so pretty.

connie brings the hand in your hand down to your cheek to feel himself through the skin, his tip pressed up against the inside of your cheek as he slightly rolls his hips forward to fuck in your mouth gently.

you pull off of him, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and letting your saliva drip onto his cock.

"fuck, you can't do that," he whines and rubs his tip against your lips until you open up again for him and his hand returns to your hair. "stick your tongue out."

you obey. using the leverage he has on your locks, he pushes deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head as he thrusts forward. small moans leave connie's lips. he's infatuated with the way your tongue slides against his underside as you try your best to relax your throat to let him in.

he loves it, loves how your mouth is so wet and sloppy around him, how it feels so good to be inside you— and he wants to feel every part of you, not stopping at your mouth.

saliva drips from the corner of your mouth and you try to suppress the gags that try to come up. you whimper from underneath connie, and he pulls out to give you a minute to breath.

it's funny how he's breathing harder then you his chest heaving. "that fuckin' mouth,"

you give a slight smile at the compliment, pleased to know you were pleasing him.

"i need it s'more."

what kind of person would you be if you didn't give the birthday boy what he wanted?

so you give him more, using connie's thighs to keep yourself steady, relaxing yourself and breathing through your nose as you let connie fuck your mouth.

he becomes erratic, the grip he has on your hair is slightly painful but you know he's too caught up in his lust, too caught up in the haven that was your throat.

he's so lost in the pleasure that he doesn't warn you when he's about to cum and you only know by the way his cum spills down your throat making you cough and pull off of him.

what you could only assume was a "sorry" comes from him as he calms down, pulling up his boxers and jeans but forgetting to buckle his belt. his hand reached out for you to grab it.

you take it and he pulls you up until you're almost at his height again, that same dumb smile on his face. "did you like your present?" you hum after you clear your throat.

"duh..." his thumb comes up to wipe at the saliva around your mouth before pushing the digit between your lips. you waste no time entertaining him, sucking your spit up and popping off of his thumb. "you thinkin' you could gimme something else though?"

you snort, "what happened to we couldn't take too long cause everyone's downstairs?"

"i'm still hard, it's my birthday, i really don't give a fuck who's downstairs." his words contradict his earlier statement but you brush it off, pulling him by the string of his jacket and pressing another peck to his lips.

"get in the bed birthday boy."

#connie springer x reader smut #connie x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie aot #connie x reader smut #connie springer smut #aot smut #aot x reader #connie smut #sfw

503 notes · View notes

lunaslethifold · 4 years

Text

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Part 1 (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him.

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~2.4k

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Here’s the second part of the series, shorter than the last part as promised. Reminder that this series takes place the summer after Goblet of Fire and before Order of the Phoenix, and it doesn’t follow canon completely. I made the headquarters of the OOTP the Burrow instead of Sirius’ house, mostly because I wanted to write this in the Burrow setting. The beginning of this sort of sets up everything that is to come. Also, thank you so much for all of the support on the prologue! I honestly was hoping for like, 5 notes, so tysm! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Harry was sat on his bed, watching his older sister pacing in front of him. Slight annoyance started to creep up on him at her incessant movement. The Dursleys had left not long ago to get help for Dudley. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“Y/N, would you stop that?” Harry finally said, irritated.

“Expelled, Harry. Expelled! I can’t believe it. They can’t do that. It’s not right,” Y/N replied, completely ignoring what he just said. Harry almost rolled his eyes at her. “I mean, you were protecting him! Not to mention that he already knows about magic. Goodness, I should’ve been there-”

“Y/N, shh!”

“Don’t tell me to shh, Harry. I’m older than y-” This time, Harry did roll his eyes and placed a hand over her mouth, stopping her from continuing. Y/N attempted to pry his arm off.

“Did you hear that?” he said, lowering his hand.

“Hear what?” Y/N said, glaring at him. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped short when she heard it too. There were shuffling noises coming from downstairs.

“The Dursleys?” she mouthed at Harry. He gave her a confused look. “The. Dursleys.” She tried mouthing it again, this time slower.

“What?” he mouthed back, raising his eyebrows.

“The Dursleys,” she whispered to him. Harry still looked lost. “The! Dursleys!” Y/N whisper-shouted, exasperated. This time he understood.

“What about them?” he whispered back.

“Are they back? Is their car here?” she said, gesturing at the window that Harry was standing next to. It seemed to click in his mind and he searched for a sign of their presence outside. Nothing. He turned back to his sister and shook his head. They both pulled their wands out. The noise seemed to get closer and Y/N stepped in front of Harry.

The door to their room burst open and multiple figures could be spotted in the doorway. “Lumos,” a voice said, and the previously dark room was illuminated with light. The source of the light was a wand that was held by a woman with colored hair. She smiled goofily at Y/N and she almost smiled back. Almost. But she was still in protective sister mode and raised her wand a little bit.

While Y/N was looking at the woman, Harry seemed to have noticed a figure behind her.

“Professor Moody?”

Suddenly the Potter siblings were mounted on brooms and zooming through the sky. Y/N wasn’t nearly as good as Harry was on a broom, but she could hold her own. Although she was a little bit distracted with the whole being-rescued thing, she realized that the route they were taking was familiar to her.

“Oi!” she called to the woman who had smiled at her earlier. “Er… Tonks!” This caught her attention and she turned to her. “Are we going to the Weasley’s?” Y/N yelled. The wind whipped against her face and she squinted.

Tonks nodded. “Yeah, headquarters.” She also sent Y/N the same goofy smile as before. Y/N was a bit confused, but she smiled back this time. She could tell that she already liked her.

Soon the group approached the Burrow. Or, where the Burrow was supposed to be. It seemed to have vanished into thin air. When they landed, Y/N exchanged glances with Harry. He shrugged in response. It seemed that every year they were learning something new about the wizarding world. Moody lifted his staff and the charming house that they’d spent their summers at seemed to be growing before them. They all entered the house and a different noise than the usual hustle and bustle made its way to their ears. In fact, it seemed that there was arguing going on. And not the usual sibling back and forth, but actual heated conversation.

Y/N and Harry approached the dining room table, where all the commotion seemed to be. There, they caught sight of some of their favorite people.

“Remus!” Y/N said, reacting first.

“Sirius!” Harry said from beside her. They were all wearing matching grins. As they tried to step forward, Mrs. Weasley blocked them.

“Now, now, we can say our hellos later. Upstairs you two, and we’ll call you for dinner in just a bit,” she smiled at them. Molly wrapped them in a quick hug and ushered them towards the stairs. Y/N glanced back before reluctantly walking up with Harry in tow.

When she reached the top, she was immediately pulled into a hug by Ginny. Harry greeted her before heading off to find Ron and Hermione.

“Y/N! It feels like it’s been forever. I missed you,” she said, leading Y/N to her room.

“I missed you too. What’s with all the secrecy?” Y/N replied.

“They’re having a meeting. Mum says we’re not old enough to be allowed,” Ginny said, shrugging and fiddling with the books on her desk.

“A meeting for what, exactly? No one can give me a straight answer,” she replied, plopping herself onto the bed.

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course.”

“The Order of the Phoenix, of course,” Y/N mocked, making her voice much higher than usual. She picked up a pillow and chucked it at Ginny. She threw it back at her and rolled her eyes. “Hey, where’s Fred?”

“Oh, and here I thought you were excited to see me,” Ginny replied, smiling.

Y/N groaned. “You know that is not what I meant.”

“Dad sent him and George to town to get some things for dinner.”

“Ah, okay. So, tell me more about this Order of the Phoenix,” Y/N said, turning to Ginny.

“Why tell when we can listen?” Ginny said with a mischievous glint in her eye as wide grins made their way to their faces.

That was how Ginny and Y/N found themselves in the situation they were currently in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to have the same idea and took the prime spot outside near the window.

"I think I've got an idea," Y/N said. The plan was simple, really. Ginny would throw an old book she had lying around her room to the ground floor. Then, when Mrs. Weasley went to go investigate - she was the only one who had a view of the hallway from where she was standing - the two girls would duck into the coat closet that was near the door to the dining room. It was foolproof. Okay, maybe not so much. But Y/N really wanted to hear what was going on and there was no time to think of a brilliant plan.

The moment had come. Y/N sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for the sound of the book hitting the ground. When she heard it, she dashed down and before turning the corner, she peaked just to make sure that Mrs. Weasley was gone. She wasn’t. Y/N stopped herself from running forward. That was a close one, she thought. Just when she thought she was in the clear, Ginny came barreling down the stairs and smacked right into her. Y/N, clad in socks, slipped on the wood floor and fell down, taking Ginny with her. A loud thump sounded, and Mrs. Weasley’s head snapped in their direction mid sentence. She didn’t even hesitate before closing the door with her wand.

Fred and George were walking up the hill towards the house, bags of groceries in hand. “Do you reckon Y/N and Harry are here yet?” Fred asked George.

“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” George replied, watching the house reveal itself. They stepped into the hallway and their eyes landed on a peculiar sight. Well, peculiar for George at least.

“She didn’t hear! She didn’t get up from her spot,” Y/N said. Her and Ginny were sprawled in a pile on the floor and they were too busy conversing to notice them.

“How is that my fault?” Ginny replied, trying to fix her disheveled appearance.

“I didn’t say it was-” Y/N began, but she was cut off when a pillow smacked her in the face. Ginny had reached behind her and grabbed it from the stack of laundry behind her. Time seemed to stop for a moment as a shocked and slightly offended expression settled onto Y/N’s face. She wasn’t genuinely offended, but George didn’t know that.

She recovered quickly and let out a shriek of, “Ginny Weasley! You’ll regret that!” Soon a storm of pillows and blankets were being thrown around the room as the sound of giggles filled the air.

After a minute of this Fred set his bags on the floor and blocked a pillow that was headed straight for the side of Y/N’s head. “Oi! Stop trying to pummel my friend, will you?” Fred said, with a big smile on his face. Y/N turned towards him with an equally large smile on her face.

“Fred!” she said, pulling him in for a hug. She reached up to touch the ends of his hair. “I like your haircut.”

“Your friend? She was my friend first, actually,” Ginny laughed, tugging Y/N to her side by her arm.

Fred opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N spoke first. “Actually,” she started, looking around the room for something. Her eyes landed on George. “George is my favorite Weasley,” she said, moving to stand next to them. She gently placed her hand on his arm, looked at him, and gave him a silly smile. “Hi, George.”

George was taken aback when he felt a jolt where her hand was. Fred and Ginny seemed to be protesting her statement, but he didn’t quite register what they were saying. Her hand felt nice there and it seemed to spread warmth throughout his arm. She was still looking at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his breath hitched in his throat. Her smile was contagious though, so he managed to return it with a grin of his own. To George, it seemed like the girl next to him was looking at him for an eternity, but in reality it was only a few seconds. Something else caught her attention and she turned away, removing her hand from its spot on his arm. He felt himself almost… missing it. He tried to shake the feeling away.

What was going on?

The next day George woke up a little bit later than usual. Fred had already disappeared from their shared room. After he got ready he went downstairs in search of his twin. He tried looking everywhere, but he couldn’t seem to find him. George felt like he ran into everyone but who he was looking for. Ron, his parents, Ginny, and even Hermione. He was starting to get exasperated as he headed to the last place he thought Fred would be.

George went out the backdoor and headed to the big old tree where the treehouse that he and his siblings spent countless summer days sat. As he approached he heard laughter and chatter coming from it. He ascended the latter and found Fred and Y/N lounging lazily there. They looked like they were in their own world. As usual, George thought, laughing to himself.

“Stealing my best friend, are we?” George said when he was fully in. Fred and Y/N’s heads snapped up.

“Yeah, Fred, stop stealing his best friend,” Y/N said, sending her and his twin into hysterics. George was caught by surprise, but couldn’t help but join in too. He was a little bit confused, though. Y/N has grown less shy around him over the past couple of months, but she seemed to be letting loose more. This interaction had just confirmed what he thought when he arrived at the Burrow last night.

Y/N Potter had changed in George’s eyes.

George found himself conversing with Y/N more often than he supposed he had in his life during the next couple of days. She was suddenly more talkative around him. Not that he minded, though. In fact, George was quite enjoying her company; he hung onto every word she said. Whether they were talking about a prank Fred was planning or the upcoming school year, he couldn’t quite seem to get enough. But still, Y/N spent most of her time with Fred and Ginny. George was used to it by now, but for some reason this year he felt a bit… disappointed. He didn’t let it bother him, though, because he’s usually around Fred anyways.

George took notice of other things about Y/N besides who she spent time with, too. It first happened one evening when everyone was in the yard, save for Y/N and Ginny, who were meant to be doing the dishes. Keyword, meant.

George had run out of pumpkin juice after a particularly long match of quidditch with his brothers, so he ran into the house to get a refill. He made it to the doorway into the kitchen and paused to take in the scene in front of him. And pause he did.

The sun was setting and gave the Burrow a warm glow. The sound of a muggle song that George hadn’t heard before echoed through the kitchen. He wasn’t listening to the song, though. His attention was on the girl who was dancing with his sister. They were throwing their arms about wildy and jumping around like no one was watching them. Well, no one was supposed to be watching. Their laughs filled the air as they took turns singing the lyrics. Ginny grabbed Y/N’s arm and twirled her.

George was absolutely captivated. He felt like he had never seen someone look so effortlessly… well, beautiful. It was the only word he could think to describe her in that moment. The permanent smile that adorned her face, the comfortable clothes she was wearing, it all seemed like he had caught her in a perfect little moment. A grin made its way to his face and he gently leaned against the door frame. The song ended way too soon for his liking and the girls stopped to catch their breath.

Y/N turned around and noticed him standing there. She smiled sheepishly and waved at him. “What’s up, George?” she said, giggling slightly. When she said his name butterflies erupted in his stomach and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face.

This is completely fine, he thought. I’m fine. Sure, George.

Again, thank you guys so much for all your likes, reblogs, and comments on the prologue! I truly appreciate it. Let me know what you guys thought of this part. Also, what do you think of the length? Do you like them longer like the prologue, or shorter like this part? Thank you so much for reading!

351 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Frosting On Your Nose - R.W.

Frosting On Your Nose- Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: marriage (to Ron), mentions of having a kid, food.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: this has been an idea of mine forver, here it is. writing for ron is actually kinda fun! i’ve been feeling really bad about my writing lately, so I’m glad at least to churn something out. also I renamed Ron’s son because Hugo is not it

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

if you want to be added, send me an ask or dm!

“I can’t believe our Benny’s already turning one year old! Feels like he was born just yesterday, doesn’t it, love?” Ron asked you from across the messy, crumb-coated kitchen, his chiseled hands steadily whisking a muckle of creamy, vanilla frosting in a bowl.

“Time really does fly when you’re having fun, I suppose,” you replied while carefully selecting a fistful of small food dye vials of various shades of the rainbow. The blank, white frosting will soon brilliantly decorate the rich chocolate cake cooling on the windowsill, basking in the sun’s lazy, late-afternoon rays.

Silence soon rose into the bright, cozy room like the soothing morning tide of the sea, calm and comfortable. Ron continued to rhythmically stir the batch of uncolored frosting while you had moved on to preparing various crystalline piping bags, selectively choosing each fine metal tip.

Inexorably, Ron soon removed the metal whisk from the bowl, long, red tongue out and ready to kitten-lick some of the deliciously sweet frosting off the whisk’s wired loops. “Ronnie, you better not be eating any of that frosting! It’s for Benny’s cake, remember,” you smoothly reminded the sweet-toothed redhead opposite you, not even needing to gaze at him to know what he had planned.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Ron denied innocently, placing the whisk back into the bowl inconspicuously. You ambled over to the tall ginger for a quick progress check, pleased to see that the frosting was now mixed to perfection, its texture silky smooth and ready for piping. You swiped your finger on the rim of the bowl, accumulating a dollop of the fluffy cream, before nonchalantly sticking it into your mouth with a pop. “Hey! You can have frosting, but I can’t, huh? That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Ronnie-kins. But I’ll let you have all the leftovers after the cake is done, deal?”

“Fine,” - he grumbled - “deal. Now what colours are we gonna frost this mouth-watering cake?”

Countless rough sketches and outlines of adorable cakes filled the smudged papers of your notebook, the same one you doodled in since your Hogwarts days. You gingerly handed Ron the dog-eared bundle of bound papers, pointing at your favorite sketches and concepts, most of which included bright colours and childish smiley faces galore. The final design of the soon-to-be Benny’s first birthday cake was circular and slathered in white frosting, dotted with yellow and orange suns wearing wide-mouthed grins, which popped against frosted sky-blue ribbons. Little spherical sprinkles added miniature bursts of colour to the central letters of the cake which read, “Happy First Birthday Benny!” in flawless, fluid cursive writing.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a knack for drawing, sweetheart. Benny’s cake’ll look amazing, as long as you’re the one doing all those tiny details.”

“You’re not that bad at sketching yourself. We’ll pipe it together, but I’ll be sure to do the lettering. Don’t think I didn’t see your awful handwriting back on all your old Divination homework.”

“It was only that bad because I hated the class! It always smelled like old-lady perfume and Trelawney was a nutter!”

“She was better than Snape, at least.”

Ron gave you a concurring nod, his unkempt mop of ginger hair fluffing up and down with the movement. You suppressed a giggle at his charming, goofy grin you’d come to love before squeezing droplets of brilliantly-coloured food dye into the small basins of peaked, milky-white frosting.

Ron gently clamped his large, vermillion-freckled hand over yours’, guiding your wrist in circular stirring motions to tint the heaps of icing. Ron’s chin rested on the crown of your head, his warm breath blowing strands of your hair to obscure your gorgeous, light-catching eyes. You paid no attention to the falling tresses of hair, instead you absorbed the familiar sensation of being held in Ron’s delicate arms; the knits and stitches of his homemade maroon sweater caressed your skin.

Once the pigmented frosting was tightly wrapped in the metal-tipped piping bags, you daubed a thin crumb-coat onto the layered cake. When the coat had settled, cementing the loose specks of brown to the sponge, you smoothed on another layer of frosting, this time making it a silky, uncreased layer.

Soon enough, Ron was concentratedly piping an (uneven) border of blue around the base of the cake. Even though his strokes of frosting were messy, you admired his effort. His effort that was made quite prominent by the tip of his tongue poking out from his soft lips in focus, his minimally-blinking blue eyes glued to the slowly revolving cake.

“Honey, you did a splendid job. I’m so proud of you.” You pulled in a triumphant Ron for a tight, loving hug, twirling your fingers through his messy ginger hair. You were quick to notice little ivory specks of frosting was strewn through his fluffy locks. “How’d you manage to get frosting in your hair, silly?”

“It’s just part of the process of being a great baker, I guess.”

You both let out airy chuckles, your faces inching closer and closer. He finally pulled you by the hem of your apron into a sloppy, languid kiss, each succumbing to the familiar sensations of each other’s lips. The sensation you felt all those years ago after he confessed his love for you on a chilly night at Hogwarts, the sensation you felt dressed in a stunning sea of white on the day of your wedding, the sensation of his lips after looking at your son for the first time.

In quite a few minutes, after lingering kisses and tear-jerking memories came and went, you were back in the present, the clocks still ticking forward, finishing up the piping. You trimmed the sponge with varicoloured stripes and ribbons, meticulously spacing them out to perfection.

After the last pinch of beads of sprinkles fell atop the cake like bittersweet summer rain, the cake was finally complete. It looked adorable, exactly like the baked goods that would be proudly displayed in the window of a bakery. Ron gave you a goofy high five (which was commonplace) in celebration; after your hands smacked together, he wrapped his fingers around your palm, your hand dwarfed by his’.

“You did a wonderful job, love. Everyone at his party’ll be dying to try a slice!” he praised, pulling you to his chest for a hug.

You pulled back to glance up at his handsome face with doe eyes, his features illuminated by the golden, waning sunlight. Before you could give him a sweet reply and subsequent peck on his lips, he stated with a laugh, “Y/N, you have frosting on your nose.”

You retracted your hand from his sweater-clad chest, dipping your pointer finger into the leftover stash of glistening frosting before briskly smudging a streak of white across Ron’s sun-freckled nose, teasing, “now you do, too.”

“Oh, you’re in for it now!” Ron exclaimed mischievously, coating his hands into the bowl of sugary fluff, desperately attempting to slather your nose in white further. As the sunlight gradually faded away, and the moon elusively bathed your quaint house in pale beams, the evening was pin-drop silent and peaceful, except for the light, scampering footsteps and fearful giggling of you and your doting husband.

72 notes · View notes

offda-rails-art · 3 years

Text

Been a while since I’ve enjoyed art. I finally finished my story-no color becuase paint is expensive and I can expand more by doing what I love most-sketching. Slight gore warning, like typical horror movie gore⚠️

Thank you for anyone following me recently, even though I haven’t been very active. I hope this makes up for it. Peace and love. Lochlan’s story part one👇

The countryside of Hennessy had a horrible storm roll in. It poured endlessly all night and into morning. The seemingly endless pounding rain made everything a muddy slippery mess, and with that the tracks were overflowed with water. Travel for any engine was dangerous so it was decided that everyone would take the day off and wait out the storm inside. Old Red, Donner, and Cracker Jack had already been in the roundhouse that night and early in the morning they were told “no work for today. Too dangerous.”

Lochlan had still been on his job pulling a long train all night. Something that had been expected to be finished by early morning was delayed by the rain. Lochlan went along the tracks carefully and managed to deliver his train by late afternoon meanwhile the rest of the engines back at the roundhouse were confined to their berths all day. And with that the group of 3 were very bored.

Lochlan backed his way into his respective berth, he was soaked from being in the down pour all day. He was also visibly tired from his tedious journey of start stop all through the wet slippery tracks. Before the poor big engine could get a word out Cracker Jack piped up. “About time! Reds been going on and on about silly stories. We’ve traded back and forth on interesting ones of our own. Well, Donner and I at least. Reds giving the whole “Wild West romance, forbidden engine/human love” spiel again.” Cracker Jack groaned.

“My recounts of pistol packing cowgirls are not romance stories! I’m simply making it clear that women are just as dangerous as men! That’s all!” Red growled quick to defend himself. His face turning slightly pink.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that you old fart.” Cracker Jack smirked. Even Donner gave a slight chuckle in agreement.

Lochlan smiled and shook what water dripped down his face off. Cracker Jack grinned up at Lochlan expectantly. “Suppose you have anything of your own to share?” Cracker Jack asked, his grin widened hoping that Lochlan would have a story to tell. At least one that wouldn’t put him to sleep. Or any about his love interests.

“Me? What kind of story? I don’t do much that interesting.” Lochlan sighed and tried to think of anything worth telling.

“Lochlan. You’re huge. You see the world from a different point of view everyday. You do the more than any other engine on the railway. You’ve been everywhere, you must have something?” Cracker Jack retorted. Lochlan frowned and clicked his tongue in thought. A loud crack of thunder boomed in the background and shook the roundhouse. The 4 engines jumped at the sudden loud noise. The natural fearful reaction to the loud noise gave Lochlan an idea.

“What about a scary story?” He smiled and knew exactly what to share. The other three raised their brows in interest. Cracker Jack noticeably grew attentive.

“Yes! I think we can all agree that horror over a whole romance novel is sure to help pass the time!” Cracker Jack grinned. It took Red a second to process the slight dig made at him. He only grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Good! I have just the one! It happened the very first week I arrived here.” Lochlan grinned and cleared his throat to begin.

When Lochlan first arrived at Hennessy he was immediately tasked with pulling long trains of heavy and important cargo for distances many other engines couldn’t travel. He traveled from late at night till very early morning so naturally his rest time in the afternoon was spent in any noisy bustling yard he could manage to get a break in. Most of the time Lochlan couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He didn’t mind not napping but peace and quiet was something he could definitely enjoy. It seemed that wouldn’t be an option for a while with his break schedule. So, Lochlan decided to eavesdrop on his human counterparts. They did after all have interesting things to share. While in a yard one afternoon the prefect opportunity to eavesdrop came in, a group of engineers decided to take their break not far away from him. They sat down on some old flatbeds and joked around for a while. The oldest man in the group began talking about his past colleague who was a Native American. He recounted all kinds of interesting things his colleague shared. From ancestral meanings to cultural symbols, but then he brought up something strange. Lochlan grew curious and listened in best he could. The engineer asked the others if they ever heard what a “wendigo” was. The two men shook their heads. Lochlan listened in as the man explained to them what it was, and the reason for bringing it up.

The engineer grew serious before beginning, “ a couple years back a rancher went missing out by his home just a good ten miles from the south side of Hennessy. No one knew how he could possibly go missing, he was in touch with the locals and was a very smart man. He knew the wildlife and his homeland well enough to where an animal attack was ruled out. He carried a gun on him all the time to stay safe and no one would want to harm a lonely rancher with not much of anything to give anyway. Robbery and murder was ruled out too, especially after his home was found kept well with nothing out of the ordinary or missing. He just seemed to have vanished along with his horse and dog. The sheriff decided he could’ve left unannounced for private reasons and perhaps he would turn up soon. It wasn’t until a week later a hunter stumbled across what was left of the poor rancher. He was so severely mangled that the only thing that showed proof it was him was his hat, horse and dog. Whatever creature that did that couldn’t possibly be a bear, or even a pack of wolves. Only the rancher looked like something had eaten parts of him. His horse and dog were for the most part untouched, the possibility a rabid bear attacked him was brought up due to the massive claw marks and slashes embedded in his horse and dog. And how badly the man was shredded. But what bear could be that big? A search for whatever rabid bear or sick pack of wolves was put out but nothing was recovered.

No one wanted to admit but they were scared. The scene was so brutal it seemed almost impossible another living thing could do that. It was swept under the rug and everyone tried to forget about it in hopes it would just go away. It seems there’s no answer for what happened right? Well your wrong, that’s were this “wendigo” comes in. Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh, they crave taunting people and torturing them until giving them a brutal horrible death only to feast on their scared poor souls. They tower above the tallest pine trees, make blood curdling screams, and can strip the flesh from your bones instantly. He wasn’t attacked by a rabid animal, he was murdered and eaten alive by one of those foul beasts. Only something that big and mercilessly brutal could’ve done such a thing. And why eat just the person? An animal would’ve taken all it could get. Dog and horse would’ve been part of the main course as well.”

The two other men who listened in shuddered upon the end of the tale. Lochlan was intrigued but was interrupted by his crew coming to fetch him from his break. He needed to get back to work and couldn’t listen in anymore. He sighed and set off to collect his train, he had plenty of time to ponder what he just heard on his long quiet journey.

Lochlan enjoyed the unexplainable, everything had an explanation. An answer. While the story of the wendigo was interesting to him he couldn’t help but believe it was simply a tall tale. Even with how big and goofy the engine could be, he wasn’t gullible. The only way he’d believe something is if he witnessed it first hand. And as far as he knew he never saw any forest animal that towered over pine trees or had a specific desire for human flesh. But for some reason something inside him wouldn’t let go of it. The story was kept in the back of his mind and not forgotten.

Lochlans first week on Hennessy’s railway was almost over. He already gotten familiar with the area and his routes in the short time he was there. His job went swillingly and it was something he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days doing. Oh, and no strange gigantic monsters hungry for human flesh appeared. There was one route Lochlan hadn’t traveled yet, and the unkept longer line of tracks was only taken if necessary but no reason was ever really given as to why it wasn’t used. But with only almost a week of experience on the railway he had a lot more to learn and explore.

While Lochlan pulled a long train of cargo with the morning newspaper edition, important mail, and dairy that needed to get to its destination quickly in order to not spoil he came to a stop when he realized his normal route back into Hennessy was blocked. Someone had derailed and a big mess of tar trucks were scattered everywhere. Lochlans engineers grew frustrated and argued with the crewmen in charge of cleaning up the wreck. “Listen pal, it’s going to take all night to clean this mess up. You’ll just have to wait until morning to pass through or go through the south side.” The agitated worker groaned and pointed up ahead to a route Lochlan wasn’t familiar with.

“Well. We most certainly ain’t got time to wait. I’ve got the morning paper to deliver and dairy that will spoil! Come on big feller we’ll just have to go through the south side which will still delay our schedule because some incompetent idiot can’t operate an engine worth Jack shit.” Lochlans engineer growled and made his way back to his cab. Lochlan looked on curiously up ahead at this new route. The grass ahead was severely overgrown, and by the looks of the track no one seemed to have been down it for a decade. His cow plow would come in handy to shove away any overgrowth that littered the track up ahead. Lochlan puffed down the track without incident. He sliced through any overgrowth that littered his path, and was thankful for his bright headlamp because it seemed any lights that lit up the track before had been left not repaired. Lochlan had come upon something odd as he plunged further down the unused route. A herd of deer were stopped close by the tracks, what was odd to him was that the animals didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. It was normal for the forest animals to hurriedly clear the way when any loud engine chuffed close, to the animals an engine was another predator to run away from. But the large herd of deer stood stalk still, their backs turned towards him and their heads cocked up looking into the distance at something. They didn’t dare move and their fear was focused on something Lochlan couldn’t see. Lochlan raised a brow and chuffed by but the deer didn’t move. Even as steam whooshed out and his own massive frame rumbled on the rails shaking the ground. The deer seemed to care less about him. It was one of the most peculiar things he had seen, but he had no idea it was about to get worse.

Tumblr limits posts and I have to many illustrations to do one part. So I’ll have to skeet part two in another separate post. Stick around for the second part if you enjoy so far. Thanks so much for people who’ve stuck around my blog and actually wanted to read my stories. I really really appreciate it.

#ttte #the rural railway #ttte oc #trr lochlan #trr #trr lochlan’s spook #trr donner #trr old red #trr cracker jack #also-#if anyone’s messaged me #I haven’t checked my inbox or messages in forever #don’t worry I’m not ignoring you #just depressed ;)#and not sociable

25 notes · View notes

obey-me-fics-n-shit · 4 years

Text

Satan X MC: “Cat Cafe?”

@gostbirds So the brothers don’t really interfere with them going, (because I couln’t think of any good reason lol) and I didn’t actually write them going to the cafe, AND its a bit longer than I meant it to be, but I had lots of fun writing it and I hope you like it!

Also this is my first time writing something that’s not headcannons, so if you have any criticisms, keep them constructive please and thank you!

Satan x mc “cat cafe?”

You sat down for a peaceful Saturday breakfast in the house of Lamentation, ready to scarf down as many of Satan’s delicious pancakes as you could before Beel came down and ate them all. Taking charge of who all was there you took stock of Asmo, who seemed busy drizzling on syrup just so in a way that made it look picture perfect. Turns out that was the plan, because a second later Asmo pulled out his DDD and was taking pictures for Devilgram. Moving further down the table you saw Mammon, who didn’t seem particularly interested in what was going on in terms of food, but he was eyeing up the new silverware in a way that told you that you probably wouldn’t see it again soon. Finally there was Satan, who was sat at the table with a book in hand. He already finished eating if you were to judge by his empty but dirty plate. It was cute, you thought, that everytime he made a meal he stayed in the dining room until everyone had eaten some. Satan never really said why he did this, but you figured that he like to gauge everyones reactions to the meal, to see whether or not he should make it again.

You decided to sit across from Satan, who acknowledged you (and your large stack of pancakes) as you sat down with a smile. You offered a smile back and dug in. You’d always liked Satan the best, and the two of you had gotten pretty close but sometimes he still made you nervous. You had honestly gotten pretty good at reading all of his little micro-expressions too, Satan is a quiet guy, you’d noticed that early on. So when the two of you started spending more time together, being able to know what he was saying without actually saying it was a must. But, for all of your hard work on getting to know him better you still couldn’t tell if he liked you back. You looked up at Satan and made sure to make a show out of pointing to the pancakes then giving a big thumbs up. You would’ve said something but it was kind of hard because A) mouthful of yummy pancakes and B) you didn’t want to rope him into a conversation when he was trying to read. Satan acknowledged you thumb up with his own thumb up, small smile and no, it couldn’t be was that a blush? Before you could look closer and verify his face was hidden by the book again.

It was then that Levi walked in and sat down next to you. You greeted him with a cheery “good morning” and Levi did the same. Looking back at the table you saw that Mammon (and his silverware) had done a little vanishing act and were gone, but Asmo was finally getting started on his pancakes. Levi started talking and you were really trying to pay attention, but you had already missed the first part of his conversation. You tuned in just in time to find out he was talking about some new gimmicky cafe he was interested in had just opened.

“-and they’ll join you at the table! Anyways MC all the waitress have little paw print aprons, which I’ve heard are pretty cute and they have a gift shop with a whole bunch of themed collectibles, I’ve got to get there soon before they run out of Ruri-Chan cat figurines!”

Now you really wish you had listened to the first part of Levi’s spiel because to say you were lost was an understatement. You couldn’t help but notice though that whatever Levi talked about must have been interesting. Satan was looking at his book but his eyes weren’t moving across the page, he was listening. If it had gotten Satan’s attention it was probably something you should’ve been listening to. Sooner or later you had to respond though you you decided to go with, “Yeah, that sounds really cool Levi!” Before taking another bite of pancake so you wouldn’t have to say anything more.

It was quiet for a little longer while you and Levi took some bites, “Anyway, MC, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me later today.” Levi got around to the point of his speech.

“Ooh! Like a date?,” Asmo piped in, “because if it’s a date that’s no fair! Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince MC on a date?” At this you noticed Satan stiffen a little a bit, eyes still fixed on his book but unmoving on the page.

“No that’s not it at all, Asmodeus!” Levi rebuttted a little red in the face. You decided if you didn’t chime in now things would only get heated from here.

“Oh that’s nice, Levi, but I think I have some more work I need to do on one of my assignments, maybe next time though!” You weren’t in the business of committing to plans if you didn’t know what they were (although you knew it was your fault for not paying attention.) and if the idea of you going to whatever this place was made Satan uneasy it probably wasn’t worth it.

“Oh that’s okay! It’ll be easier to get a table if there’s one person anyway.” Levi responded. With that you finished up your plate, thanked Satan for breakfast and made your way back to your room. You really did have some work to do, so at least that wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t as much work as you made it sound to Levi.

Around noon-thirty you had finished the work you needed to do and decided you’d head down to the kitchen to throw together some lunch. To no ones surprise Beel was stationed in front of the fridge, eating whatever was unfortunate enough to find its way into his hands, and thereby his mouth.

“Heya Beel!” You greeted reaching arounf him for some lunch meat, on the way down to the kitchen you’d decided a quick sandwich seemed like a good lunchtime option.

“Hi, mc,” Beel said through a muffled mouthful of food, “heard you turned down Levi’s offer to buy you lunch, what are ya, crazy?” Beel turned to you a goofy little grin on his face. You don’t remember that, when would you ever turn down a nice time out with your friends? Ohhhhhhh this morning is the time you’d turn that down. You remembered, as you began to assemble your sandwich.

“Oh haha,” you recovered with a quick chuckle, “did he offer to take you instead? I would’ve gone if I didn’t have to catch up on some homework” you asked, trying to retroactively figure out where exactly Levi had offered to take you to.

Beel gave you a friendly laugh over his shoulder, “he did offer, and I’m not one to turn down a free meal, but he said it was a cat cafe,” he paused to take another bite and swallow, you used the silence to throw together an extra sandwich, glad you at last knew the answer to this ‘Levi-lunchtime-mystery’. Beel continued, “-but after Satan’s cat fiasco a few years back I don’t really like dealing with cats anymore.”

Cat fiasco? Were you supposed to know what that was, the way Beel mentioned it so casually, you supposed so. You had no clue but you figured you’d save your questions for another time. “Oh, understandable,” you commented, so that you didn’t sound like a complete idiot. “Speaking of Satan, has he had lunch yet?” You asked, you figured you could take him some lunch if he hadn’t had any, it wasn’t that uncommon for him to get so wrapped up in whatever he was reading that time escaped him.

‘No, not yet. Or at least I haven’t seen him.” Beel said, more to the fridge than to you. Good, you thought, you could take Satan some lunch and spend some time with him.

“Okay, I’d better go make sure he gets something to eat then, see ya later Beel!” You said already halfway out of the kitchen with your two sandwiches.

Finding Satan wasn’t that hard, if he wasn’t in his room he was in the library. And that’s where you found him, he was reading the same book from this morning, and he was much farther along, judging by the way the pages near the back cover loooked a lot thinner than they had this morning. “Hey,” you spoke softly, as not to startle him, “I brought you some lunch.” You said extending the plate towards him.

Satan looked up from his book and took a sandwich off the plate, “thanks mc,” he murmured appreatively. You looked at the cover of his book, recognizing it as one of your old favorites, “any good?” You asked gesturing to the book.

“Yeah, I’m really liking it, you mentioned it a few weeks back and I finally got my hands on a copy.” He placed a book mark tenderly amongst the pages and gently shut the book. You hadn’t remembered mentioning that it was your favorite, wait now that you think about you may have made an off-handed remark, but the fact that he remembered made you heart swell a little. Not only did he remember, but he actively searched out the book and made a point of reading it. This man was going to be the death of you and he didn’t even know it

“Have you gotten to the part where-“ you were cut off by Satan, who shushed you with a ‘no spoilers!” And took a bite out of his sandwich, you did the same. Satan made a small sour look, and looked up at you from his spot on the couch.

“Mc, why is there only meat in this sandwich?” He asked you, quizzical. Oh shit, you realized you had been so wrapped up in talking to Beel that you completely forgot that sandwiches have other ingredients. How on earth did you forget something so simple?

“I- uhhh” you said, unsure of how to explain, you set the plate down beside him and let him set down his sandwich. “It’s kinda a silly reason,” you looked at Satan, who looked at you with a small smile, obviously amused.

“Explain it to me.” He demanded, so you did.

“Well you remember this morning when Levi was talking to me at breakfast?” You asked, Satan gave you a small nod in return. “Well I kinda zoned out and didn’t know where he was offering to take me so I gave him a half-baked excuse not to go”

“I recall,” Satan chimed in. You were a little offended that he seemed to agree your excuse was “half-baked” but you continued your story anyways.

“Well when I finished my work -I actually did have some to do-“ you justified, “I went down to get lunch and ended up talking with Beel, and he filled me in on what I missed.” You paused “I must have gotten so wrapped up in the conversation that I forgot to add anything else” you finished.

You and Satan sat in silence for a while then simultaneously broke out into laughter, what else could you do, ya know? After the giggles died down Satan looked at you, “can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” you shot back, “but I’ll allow you another.”

“Okay then, smartass,” Satan said, still grinning. “Are you actually interested in going to that cat cafe? Because I was planning to ask you myself but Levi beat me to the punch and I wasn’t sure if you told him no because you just didn’t want to go.” He finished, watching your expressions carefully the whole time.

“Oh!” You were alarmed, Satan wanted to go out with you? At the very least he wanted to take you somewhere he seemed excited about going, and that’s something right? “Yeah of course I’d like to go with you! I mean, my lunch plans kinda fell through anyways.” You gave a good natured chuckle before adding “one condition though” this was kinda a risky move on your part, go big or go home right? You never know if you don’t try kinda thing?

“What is it?” Satan asked hesitantly.

“It’s a date?” You meant it to sound more confident than it did, but you also wanted him to know you wouldn’t force his hand if he wasn’t into you like that.

Satan broke out into a new, wider smile, one you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing before. “Then it’s a date, mc” he said, glee shining through his voice. “We can discuss the book now the way there, but only up to where I am, okay?” He added, already getting up to go.

You didn’t know how you’d explain turning Levi down if you happened to see him there, but you figured that was a problem for later.

#obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #request #obey me #obey me!#obey me hc #obey me headcanons #@gostbrds #om satan #satan x reader #satan x mc

269 notes · View notes

punkcherries · 3 years

Text

its 4 am i have no impulse control i finished writing the very bad blurb thing its ryan+min and its not good but im posting it under the cut here anyway <3 <3 (uh theres mentions/allusions toward underage drinking and also self harm and also internalized homophobia but its not like gnarly ok ok tfrtwser??????)

Min slipped his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, his hand brushing Ryan’s neck, before pulling him close for the photo. It was only a brief moment, but the afterimage of Min’s skin on his made Ryan’s hair stand on end, and his face flush. Not like the fuzz in his face from drinking when he really shouldn’t, or the warmth in his cheeks while flirting with a girl, it ran across from ear to ear, radiating heat. ‘This is wrong,’ he thought to himself, ‘This can’t keep happening.’ The click of the camera barely registered to him, the world was just noise. Just as quickly as it happened, Min was pulled away by someone at the party calling for his attention, snapping Ryan back to Earth. He placed his hand to the back of his neck, the bare air felt like ice in place of Min’s jacket. He turned his eyes back over to Min.

“Ah, uh, thank you...!” Min called back to whoever with a sheepish chuckle, and Ryan’s face turned almostly morosely soft. His heart thumped harder, and harder, he could feel it in his head, and he felt fit to burst, until, “Ryan? You okay?” Min’s voice broke through the dead air of the dance music, and Ryan looked like a deer in headlights.

“Uhh I….” Ryan spoke hesitantly, what he’d wanted to say all night and for who knows how long before bubbling up in his chest. He looked Min in the face only for a moment, and his throat suddenly felt strangled, “I just…. Uhh….” Ryan glanced around the room for a moment, before taking in a breath, “I…. kinda feel like…. I’m, uh, forgetting something important….” He made something up.

“Uhhh…. Oh, did you remember to put your guitar back in the van after the show?” Min gestured to the backstage door off to his right. Ryan snapped his fingers, “Y’know, I…. don’t remember! Better go check,” Ryan forced a laugh, slipping past Min, “Make sure no one’s touchin’ the goods. Be right back!” Ryan pushed his way past the other partygoers and backstage as quickly as he could, leaning against the door behind him and letting out a disgruntled groan. “What is wrong with you?” He whispered to himself, pausing a moment before standing back up straight. To his surprise, there, still backstage, was in fact his guitar, or at least the case. His brows furrowed, of course he really forgot that. Such an empty headed move. Ryan went and checked the case for all his things. Guitar, picks, strings, everything was where it was supposed to be, so he zipped it up and carried it out the back door to the tour van.

Walking round the side, he brushed his hand against the uneven surface, covered in slightly chipped paint from the Chicken Choice Judy mural he and Min painted on it about a year or so ago, before getting to the back doors. His mind raced as he placed his case in the back of the van, ‘You shouldn’t say anything to him. You have something good now, you can’t ruin it,’ Ryan studied the stickers on his guitar case, the razor blade in particular stuck out in his mind, and a quiet wave of a dull, stinging phantom pain washed over his thighs, ‘Not again.’ He shook his head a moment, before sighing deeply, and closing the van doors. Turning to leave, he let out a startled yelp, seeing a figure standing behind him.

“Woah, woah, it’s just me!”

It was Min.

“Dude, don’t sneak up on me like that...!” Ryan scrambled to play it off cool, but Min gave him a puzzled look.

“I... called your name, like, twice.”

“Oh….”

Ryan cleared his throat, and smiled nervously, “Sorry, guess I just got a little, uh….” He glanced at the van for a second, “...Lost in thought.”

“Yeah, are you…. Sure you’re okay?” Ryan could hear Min’s voice starting to go soft, the kind of soft it gets when he’s worried, and his heart rose up to the end of his throat. Ryan forced a smile and gave a dismissive gesture,

“Yeah, of course! Just got hit with lots of ehh, song ideas and, y’know how I think at, like, a thousand miles a minute, I probably just didn’t notice!” He chuckled, slipping past Min again, barely looking him in the face at all, “Nothin’ to worry about!”

“Ryan,” Min’s voice stopped Ryan in his tracks. It wasn’t upset, or angry, just…. Worried, and…. Disappointed? Regardless, it dropped Ryan’s heart like an anvil from his throat to the pit of his stomach. “You know you can talk to me,” Min placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, I just want to be there for you.” His voice was so tender. Ryan turned only slightly, just to look at Min, whose concerned expression turned to a gentle, reassuring smile at seeing his face.

Ryan looked away, folding his arms just a bit, and Min’s hand brushed down Ryan’s shoulder to his back, slowly at first. It felt almost as if it pulled Ryan’s breath in, and Ryan closed his eyes. In that same motion, as Min’s hand pressed against Ryan’s back, travelling back up, it pulled the words right out from his lips.

“Min-Gi, I’m in love with you.”

The silence that set in deafened Ryan, his vital organs felt as though they’d been filled and bruised with boulders, and his head burned a dizzying burn, as if the fire and brimstone of Hell were trying to crawl out of his body for the unholy thing he’d just said. He opened his eyes, to see Min, red faced and shocked, and he clenched the leather of his jacket sleeves tightly in hand. The choking feeling in his throat came back, and he couldn’t bear to look at Min, “I….” His shaky voice barely scraped above a whisper, “I’m sorry, I…. I know it’s crazy, but…. Just…. I….” He started to trail off as the heat in his face brought out tears in his eyes, when Min’s hand suddenly pressed against Ryan’s back, pulling him into an embrace.

Ryan’s eyes were wide, as Min held him close with one arm, and the other stroked the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair, Min’s breath shooting down his neck and his ear as Min whispered in a voice only for him, “I love you, too, Ryan.”

Time stopped. Ryan’s tense body softened, and he wrapped his arms around Min’s waist, burying his face against the crook of his neck. For what felt like an eternity and yet not long enough, they held each other there in the parking lot of a dingy local live venue, just a few minutes out from Min’s college campus, although it felt like anything but. Until Ryan sniffled, and Min pulled away in concern. “Ryan, are you…?” The salty burn of tears bore into Ryan’s cheeks, but there was a smile on his face, and Min smiled back, wiping Ryan’s cheek with his thumb, “Geez, you had me worried there.” They both snickered, “Sorry, sorry….” Ryan’s voice was still a little weak as he sniffled again, and wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms, groaning.

There was a beat of silence, before Ryan spoke up again, “You…. Really mean that.… Yeah?” He only realized how silly a question it sounded after he said it.

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I…?”

“I…. Dunno…. I guess I was just…. Nervous…?” Ryan shrugged, his voice trailing off a bit, “I dunno.”

“What’d you think was gonna happen?” Min’s face turned from humored to concerned.

“I…. I guess, I was worried that you’d…. Not…. Wanna be around me anymore, if I told you, I mean. So….”

Min paused a moment, before smiling again, “Ryan, you’d be my best friend before anything else, even if I didn’t feel the same. When I said you’re stuck with me, I meant it.” He laughed, and Ryan did, too.

“You said that, like, what? 2-ish years ago?”

“And I’ve been with you ever since, haven’t I?”

“Fair point!” Ryan chuckled and sighed. He fell against Min’s chest again, snaking his arms up and around his neck. “I’m glad.”

Min’s face turned soft, and he pressed his face into Ryan’s hair, stroking his back with one hand, swaying ever so slightly together. It didn’t take long before Min mindlessly pressed a kiss against Ryan’s head, and Ryan looked up at him with a surprised smile. Min looked slightly confused for a brief moment before fully processing what he’d just done and getting flustered, “Ah, sorry, was…. That too forward?” Ryan didn’t reply, not with words, he just cupped Min’s face in one of his hands, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips to Min’s. It was only a brief moment, but the sensation of Ryan’s lips on his burned into Min, who smiled and laughed nervously. “Too forward?” Ryan teased, and they both chuckled.

Suddenly, the sound of the back door to the venue caused the pair to part in a panic. “Oh, there you guys are. What’re you doin out here? Party’s not over yet!” A woman in orange flannel called out to them, and they looked at each other a moment. Ryan gave a disinterested shrug, and Min nodded. “I…. think we’re gonna have to head out early. Long day and stuff. Sorry!” Min called back to the woman, and she shrugged, “Suit yourself.” before going back inside. Ryan shuffled around in his pocket for a moment, before pulling out the keys to the van, smiling at Min, and eagerly hopping round to the driver’s side of the car. Min paused, and touched his lips with his fingers a moment, before getting a goofy grin and following suit to the passenger side.

Ryan started the engine as Min closed his door, and after shifting into gear, Ryan’s hand slid from the stick to Min’s hand, which rest on the compartment between their seats, and gave it a squeeze. Min tried to fight the silly look on his face, “Both hands on the wheel, uh…. dork.”

Ryan laughed, “You totally wanted to call me something else, didn’t you?” Min stammered over his words, much to Ryan’s amusement, “It’s okay, you can call me “babe” if you wanna.” he teased and winked, and Min covered his face with his hand as it heated up. “Cute!” Ryan chuckled again, “Shut up and drive!” Min groaned, barely concealing his own laughter, “Alright, alright! No need to be pushy!” Ryan joked, before pulling out of the lot, and driving off.

#cherryz txt #infinity train #i literally wrote this in one go and im not a writer pls dont come for me </3 im just fuckging vibing #tryna put my ideas into some tangible form..............#id draw it but taking on comics is a PAINNN.....#speakign of this is a ryan confession but its not the same as the ryan confession comic i was working on....#which idk if ill finish at this point LMFAO................ sad! oh well gjfhdgjk #i should actually draw smth now idk why im actin bananaz rn #delete later maybe

14 notes · View notes

whump-town · 4 years

Text

Quantico Hope

Based on the text post created by @criminalmindsgonewrong so lots of praise goes to her (if not for the idea than because she’s a queen and I love her content). All of my medical scenes came from E.R, Grey’s Anatomy, or Chicago Hope so don’t come for me. Hotchniss is the main ship, warning for language

Emily Prentiss wakes up in a stranger’s bed. The comforter is thick, soft but the pattern is something only a bachelor would choose. It’s a flannel pattern, blue flannel. Knowing that no woman would willingly buy it is a small comfort. She’d never done it on purpose but she can still think of more than one occasion in which a one night stand came to a crashing halt as a spouse made their existence known. She had been chased from quite a few apartments half-dressed.

Topless, she wraps the sheets around her breast as she sits up. Her John is laying on his side and she has to lean close to see his face. She peaks over his shoulder but her quick movement catches nothing but thick brown hair and a five o’clock shadow. It does nothing to spur her memory so she places a hand on his hip to stabilize herself as she leans over him.

“Fuck,” she grunts, pushing herself back away from him.

On her back, hand slapped on her forehead she breathes out a shaky sigh. “No, no, no,” she rolls off the bed. Blindly scooping up her things on the floor. Waking up in a stranger’s bed can be disorienting but waking up in a bed that is unfamiliar with your best friend sleeping right beside you- so, so much worse. This is all Jennifer Jareau’s fault. Her and her stupid sentiments about how one more drink can’t possibly hurt.

She hears a groggy groan from the bed and she winces as she draws her arms to her chest. It’s instinct to squint her eyes, her subconscious encouraging the childish idea that if she can’t see him he can’t see her. As still as she can, frozen in her spot she waits for him to move.

She is beyond relief when he sighs and settles back down.

This time, she tiptoes, now far more conscious of the noise she’s making. Her eyes sweep the floor, searching for her lost bra. She’s missing a sock too but she can leave a sock here and not think twice about it but a bra?

Last night is mostly a blur. She has a faint memory of his hand cupping her bare breast.

“Hotch,” she breathes against his neck. She’s working his belt off, letting him attack her neck. “Jesus,” his pants fall to the floor, weighed down by his useless belt. Her mouth opens to make a comment about how hard he is but the rough pads of his fingers cup her breast and she arches into the touch.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. “I don’t want you to-”

Both of her hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Trust me,” she says, breathlessly. “I want this.” She’s wanted it for as long as she’s known him but he was married. So, she stuck to being his friend. His sounding board. “God,” she’s standing in his room, his rough hands pulling her panties to the side to work a finger inside her.

He pushes her onto the bed, laughing that silly laugh that makes her chest ache, and for the first time in her life, she’s able to kiss him. She shares his goofy joy and she can feel him smiling as he kisses her tenderly. It occurs to her that their quick drunk fuck isn’t going to be so simple. His eyes are sober and his actions are soft.

His lips start to wander and her stomach flutters as he kisses her hip bones. He looks up at her suggestively, his hands spreading her thighs. He kisses the inside of her thigh, smiling as she can’t control the way they shake.

“Aaron!”

Emily shudders as she’s pulled from the memory, heart pounding as he groans from beneath the mound of comforter he’s curled under.

The sheets rustle and Emily turns from the door to watch Hotch bolt upright in the bed. He’s on his feet in a flash, stumbling to the bathroom. He’s not of the state of mind to shut the door behind him so she hears as he gags and vomits into the toilet.

She closes her eyes and curses him. She can’t leave him alone and if the clock on his nightstand is right, she’s got three hours before she’s due for rounds anyway. Which means, she’s just an awful friend to leave him like this.

“That was gross,” she leans against the bathroom door frame. “You got a little-” she pats the side of her lip. She’s grinning ear-to-ear at his expense. He may be her best friend but it’s still far and in-between when she gets to see him so human. Without the white coat and stoic frown, he can be himself. He can be the stressed-out single father, going through a tough divorce, who spends nearly all of his waking hours depriving himself of comfort.

He drops his forehead against the cool toilet lid and groans. Wrapping a hand around his stomach, he curls his long legs beneath him. “Why are you being mean to me?” He rubs at his mouth, disgusted when his fingers find a bit of vomit on his lip. It makes his stomach roll with a vengeance that makes his head pound mercilessly. He ends up, gagging miserably again, nothing coming up.

“Alright,” Emily steps in, rubbing at his back. She stands beside him, rubbing his back until he pulls his head up. “Let’s get back to bed,” she hooks her arm under his. It takes a moment, he doesn’t want to let her help him. She doesn’t relent and he caves, allowing her to ease him to his feet.

She’s pretty tall for a woman but getting him to his feet is nothing short of a small feat. "Jesus, " she grunts. He stumbles, leaning heavily on her. Everyone had noticed the weight he dropped after Haley filed for divorce. She can barely keep him on his feet now, she'd hate to have had to do it three months ago. "You're heavy!"

Hotch stops, glaring down at her. It’s a mystery to her how he can look exhausted, nauseated, and angry at the same time. He puffs like an angry little fish, strangely cute. “Are you saying I’m fat?” He makes a failed attempt to stand up straighter, making a soft grunting noise as his stomach revolts against the idea.

Emily rolls her eyes, drama queen. “No,” she pushes him onto the bed. “You’re just a giant.” He bounces as he sits, frown set right in place. “Aaron,” she puts her hand on her hips and frowns right back at him. “Just take a nap, nurse your hangover, and remember to be in at ten when your shift starts.” She pats his shoulder and plants a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll bring you a coffee, huh?”

He yawns, grimacing as his head and stomach both protest. Sleepily, he rubs at his eyes, laying back on his bed. “I gotta…” he yawns mid-sentence. “Going to a parent-teacher meeting.”

She tries very hard not to look completely devastated. “Oh,” so no coffee. “Okay, I’ll see you after that then.”

He nods, “and I’ll bring the coffee.”

__________

Last Friday when Aaron had cornered Dave and asked him to cover some basic stuff for him, Dave imagined he’d be doing some rounds, picking up after an intern, or fussing with an attending. He hadn’t expected a very specific, in-depth list of things for him to do:

8 a.m. take Reid to check-in on patients (keep communication at a minimal)

8: 30 a.m. bust Savannah Hayes (the nurse from the Emergency Room) and Derek Morgan in the second-floor on-call room

8:45 a.m. bring Garcia a non-fat almond milk vanilla lattee--

The man has stones… and that wasn’t even half the list. There are annotations, they came color-coded with sticky notes on additional pointers. Thumbing through the several pages worth of notes and instructions, Rossi shakes his head. Of course, he knows his old prodigy is a busy man. As much as he would like to think he’s what keeps this hospital on its feet… Aaron has a lot to do with it, too.

He’s got a knack for running into trouble just as it’s happening and juggling fixing the problem with making sure it never happens again. Which, in this hospital,-- a cesspool of one night stands, rule-bending, and overbearing masculinity-- makes him a very valuable member for the good side. Good meaning one of the few members of staff without his hands in another staff member's pants.

The problem is, Dave’s hardly got the time to comply with the whole list of nonsense demands Aaron wants him running about doing. He loves Aaron dearly, the boy is like his son but he’s a bit anal-retentive and Dave just… well, he doesn’t want to do all of this stuff. The hospital isn’t going to fall apart if he doesn’t meet every single thing on this list.

Well… hypothetically, right?

“Where’s Hotch?”

Rossi steps out of his office and finds Reid standing on the other side, weirdly close. “Woah,” he takes a step back when the genius doesn’t. He shakes his head, folding the list in his hand in half before regarding the doctor in his doorway. “Reid,” he acknowledges, stepping around the genius, and shutting his office door behind him. “I believe we’ve got rounds to attend to, correct?”

Brainbox is what a few members of staff have taken to calling the young genius. Hotch had made a point to talk to the other leading heads in departments to make sure they weren’t calling Reid that and for the most part, that had slowed down the spreading of the nickname. Dave understands why Hotch got ahead of that problem but on the same hand, it’s kind of fitting.

Reid nods, looking around Rossi and into his dark office. “Yeah but Hotch always takes me.” Technically, taking Reid on rounds is supposed to be Dave’s job. Hotch just made time for it. If Hotch times everything just right, he can get Reid on the second floor near the on-call room to bust Derek and Savannah with enough time to get Garcia her coffee and have time to swing by the cardiac wing and say hi to Emily.

Speaking of--

“What are you two doing down here?” Emily and JJ are standing where Dave is supposed to be, a smooth-talking Derek and meek looking Savannah standing between the pairs. Which means that the pair busted the couple before Dave could. It burns Dave. That skinny little runt. That bastard. Hotch has Emily on the same hunt as him because Hotch doesn't think Dave would do the list.

He’s right but… still, it kinda hurts.

Emily isn’t wearing her signature smirk. For once, she’s got a one-up on him and she’s not biting. Something’s got her down. She offers a simple tight-lipped nod. “Hotch has me trailing you,” she informs him and Rossi understands exactly what it is that’s bothering her or better yet who. “He just doesn’t want the hospital burning down.”

So much for Dave’s earlier sentiment of Hotch keeping his hands to himself. Now, what’s he to do? He’s pissed that Aaron has hurt Emily but they’re both like his kids. What he needs to do is strangle for being stupid. Aaron for never outright telling anyone how he feels and Emily for letting men hurt her.

God, they just… The little idiots get under his skin like nobody else.

“He’s a tight-ass,” Rossi mumbles, shaking his head. And a dumbass if he’s right about Emily. He puffs, “this place isn’t going to fall apart just because he misses a few hours.” Dave has been doing this for a long time. He didn’t get Chief of Surgery dicking around… well, he did a little bit but that’s not the point being made.

Emily smiles, even if it looks a little forced. “Tell him that,” she offers with an eye roll. “I’m just not going to waste my energy with that argument.” Arguing with Hotch is a very taxing and pointless excursion. Especially, if the subject at hand goes against his paranoias and anxieties. So, in other words, the idea that the hospital won’t burn down without him.

Rossi can feel the mood shift and Derek must too because he kisses Savannah's cheek and excuses himself. “I’ve got my own rounds to attend to,” he admits. “Pretty boy,” he calls Reid to him. “Care to join me?” Morgan can handle a little responsibility. He won’t let Reid’s work slack on account of him.

Reid looks between Dave and Prentiss, unsure if he’s allowed to agree with Derek. Ultimately, he sees no qualms being raised by either of them so he nods and his head. He tucks his hands in his pocket and stands by Morgan’s side. Waiting for the plastic surgeon to leave.

“I’ll catch you later,” Derek says with a wave of his hand. Fully intending to make good on that promise at lunchtime where he’ll attempt to tear down Emily’s walls to get her to talk about whatever is bothering her right now. With any luck, it’ll be something juicy.

Rossi turns and watches the pair walk away, wondering how many more chores he’s been left to do. “I should probably--” he lets his voice wander off as he pulls the list from his pocket. He motions to with an air of defeat, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Can I trust you two to behave?”

JJ smiles, “I think we both know that the only pair you should be worried about just walked off to do rounds.” Her smile broadens as she considers all the mischief Reid and Morgan can get into. “However, if I were you, I’d go investigate what they’re really off doing because I’ve never known Morgan to do his work on time and not last minute.”

Dave is obviously not buying her diversion but she’s planted the seeds of fear in his mind. Unable to think of anything aside from whatever Morgan and Reid are out ruining, he lets them go. Besides, he’s certain he’ll figure it out sooner rather than later anyhow.

As soon as Dave turns the corner, JJ turns back to Emily.

“So,” the blonde inquires knowing they’re both working on a tight schedule. “You and Hotch?”

Emily nods. She doesn’t regret it. That’s what she’s learned from her morning full of nothing but introspection. She wishes she regretted it because then she’d be able to tell JJ that she's not madly in love with him. “We were drunk,” she tells her because somehow that makes it okay. But then she remembers how he kept asking if she was okay.

It’s the bare minimum but… no one’s ever actually done that before.

“I’m surprised he could,” JJ admits. “He had a lot to drink.” They’d been celebrating… something. Reid and Garcia were celebrating, actually. The rest of them were just drinking away another miserable day at this hospital.

Emily nods her agreement. It’s unusual for Hotch to drink let alone get drunk enough to have sex with her. “He was very sweet,” she admits.

JJ smirks… What else was she expecting? Hotch can be an asshole but the majority of the time he really is a gentleman. Unless you incur his wrath and if you do… well, that’s your business. He’s a bit of a hothead but it does take a lot to get him worked into yelling.

Besides, Hotch is nothing but a sweetheart to Emily. They can act as blind as ⅔ of the three blind mice but that doesn’t change the heart eyes they exchange. It still leaves a lot to be desired on a lot of their exchanges, though. The way he reaches over and, without prompting, opens boxes or bags for her. The way Emily creeps into his personal space and he doesn’t comment or even step back.

“I don’t think it’ll work out, though.” Emily takes a long sip from her coffee, eyes thoughtfully trailing off. Actually, she’s not sure it won’t work but she’s about thirty percent sure he doesn’t love her and she needs someone to tell her that she’s not making it up.

JJ scoffs at that.

Emily stops walking, eyeing her friend up. “What?” Of course, she wants to know exactly what’s warranted that reaction.

JJ rolls her eyes, “Emily, I have watched you two make some of the most disgustingly adorable faces at each other for the better part of the last year. I’ve seen Haley watch your every move.” JJ picks her pace up, leaving Emily in her momentary frozen state. “He’s hopelessly in love with you Emily and if you don’t feel that way back then you’re lying to yourself and to him.” JJ turns around, walking backward so that her words are met with Emily’s full attention. “And you both deserve better than that.”

__________

Penelope Garcia is certain that someone is leaving her out of the loop.

For starters, Derek and Spencer are giggling in one of her observation rooms. Meaning that they’re not being watched… as they should be.

Emily and JJ brought her coffee this morning.

Dave has been MIA, besides coming down here half an hour ago to ask where Morgan and Reid had “fucked off to”. She would have happily informed him of the shenanigans, no doubt, happening in her emergency room, but Morgan had gotten to her first. Who is she to say no to her Chocolate Thunder so of course, she told Dave she hadn’t seen him yet this morning.

“MVA with three vics incoming!”

Garcia sighs, standing up from behind her desk. She looks over the doctors and staff floating through the emergency room. “Charlotte,” she calls the baby nurse over. Baby being the term she’s using because Charlotte is all of about twenty-three. She finds it adorable. “Honey, do you know where Hotch is?”

Another nurse, Savannah Hayes, steps up to the station. “Uhm, he’s on call.” There’s something about her knowing smile that tells Garcia exactly why Savannah knows that: Derek Morgan. “Off to a-a…” she snaps her fingers as she tries to recall what Morgan was telling her earlier that morning. “Parent-teacher meeting,” she recalls. “He’ll be back later though.”

Garcia frowns, making a mental note to ask about the meeting later. She’s about to ask how Morgan is since she hadn’t seen him that morning when the emergency room’s doors open and the EMTs run-in with the first victim.

“Forty-year-old car crash victim, head-on collision.” The EMTs come in running, shouting out information to whoever will listen. “Pressure is 50 over palp, his respirations were shallow in the field.” The stretcher is relinquished to the closest E.R. doctor. “Pupil dilation was equal and reactive at sight. ”

Garcia pulls herself together, clearing her throat as she steps up to the stretcher. “I want--” the order dies on her lips. The man on the stretcher is pale, paler than normal. His black hair plastered to his scalp, not in it’s usual combed but contained mess. His brow isn’t furrowed and he’s not looming and glooming but she’d know him anywhere.

Her brain blanks. Training and training and protocol and protocol but… It’s not very often she gets a friend in here. “Uhm,” she can feel the emotions taking over where she should be calm. Hotch needs her to be calm. “I need you to take him to--” her mind blanks but her pointing finger guides the seasoned EMT well and the two separate with a business-like nod.

“I need someone to--” Garcia turns and Charlotte is right there. “I need you to call the Chief down here and-and Derek and everyone!” She doesn’t look back or check to make sure she’s understood, she follows Hotch into the next room. There are ethics and protocol and so many things running through her head as she grabs her boss’s hand but there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s pulling her away.

Once in the room, she sets about doing her job. Looking up only as the curtain is thrown back and she finds David Rossi looking back at her.

“It’s Hotch.”

Garcia cuts through his shirt, the thin Hanes material giving like butter with her scissors. Tears sting her eyes, “oh, my liege.” She looks up and Derek and Spencer are right behind Dave, everyone filing in. It takes them a moment, just as it did her before they throw themselves into their jobs.

Rossi pulls the cut shirt away, shaking his head. “Chest movements are paradoxical,” he informs them, moving his hands to palpate Hotch’s abdomen. “Abdomen is rigid, too.” He places the stethoscope on Hotch’s diaphragm, sighing. “I need to place a chest tube, get me a cart.” He throws the stethoscope cord back around his neck, stepping to the side.

Out of the corner of her eye, Garcia sees Rossi going for the tools he needs for a chest tube. She doesn’t want to say they don’t have time for that but… “Pulse ox is 82,” Garcia informs them. “It was just 88.” Her hands are trembling as she moves around them, a flurry of movement all of them trying to do their jobs. “Oxygen is dropping.”

Morgan curses, “I need to intubate him.” The utensils are already gathered in his hands-- muscle memory to reach out for the tools that are cold and familiar in his palms. “Do you want to be the one to tell him he’s got heart damage or worse because we let his oxygen drop to below 80?”

Reid, standing by Hotch’s head, interlaces his fingers and shakes his head. His anxiety is sky high, it’s all too much. “Can’t,” he mumbles, shaking his hands out. “If a patient with pneumothorax or other indication for tube thoracostomy requires intubation and mechanical ventilation, the chest tube should be inserted first to avoid creating an iatrogenic tension pneumothorax.” He presses his palms into his temples. All the noise, everyone shouting is overstimulating him.

It’s why he doesn’t work in the emergency room.

“I just need a second, dammit!” Rossi’s hands are shaking, “let me get the chest tube in!” The scalpel in his hand trembles over Hotch’s skin. He’s pale from adrenaline and clammy to the touch. The emergency room feels different without Hotch looming over them. He’s not shouting out orders into the chaos or guiding anyone through procedures with his scarily calm voice.

“Dave? Come on, man!”

Rossi shakes his head, clearing his dismal thoughts. He clenches his jaw and makes the incision into the fourth intercostal space. “Clamp,” the cold metal is pressed into his palm and he places it inside the area. “Dissecting the pleural space,” he mumbles, working the clamp under Hotch’s skin so that the area can accept the tube.

Hotch’s body jerks away from Rossi, a soft grunt coming from his mouth. Reid steps back to his head, clicking his penlight on. “Right pupil is five millimeters and reactive,” Reid hovers by his friend’s head. He guides the light to Hotch’s left eye, yelping when the man jerks his head away from the light. “Hotch?” His eyes blink open, his head turning from the penlight. “He-He’s conscious!”

Rossi stands up from his spot, pulling his bloodied gloves off. He moves to Hotch’s head, “Aaron? Aaron, can you hear me?” He presses his warm hand to Hotch’s cheek, guiding Hotch’s attention to him. “Can you hear me, son?”

Hotch’s eyes are jerking around the room, his mouth open but silent as he writhes in pain. He can’t breathe. His chest is heavy but he’s only thinking about one thing: Jack. The strangled sound that leaves his mouth is inhuman, he doesn’t recognize it. The pain becomes excruciating.

“Sedate--” all too familiar with that word, Hotch turns his head towards Derek. The other man is red in the face, his anxiety bubbling into rage. Profanities litter his speech but Hotch’s mind is too exhausted to nitpick out the words. For now, the only one worth thinking about is sedate.

He pulls away from the bed, a burst of energy leaving him trembling but upright in the stretcher. “N-No!” Jack. Jack was in the back seat. He couldn’t reach Jack. He has to get to-- Something cold runs into his arm and looks down, body suspended by his friends and coworkers, and it’s Reid. In his hands is the syringe Garcia had gotten out. Hotch feels his chest tighten-- he feels betrayed.

“Easy, son.”

Hotch feels himself falling back but he doesn’t hit the hard surface of the gurney beneath him but rather hands. Gently, he’s guided back down. Sweat sleeks his hair to his face and he’s limp in the hands as Derek steps towards his head. They’re talking-- words he understands but…

Derek cranes his neck back, Hotch can see his lips moving, but he’s not taking in any of the words. He knows they’re asking him to do a simple task: blink on command to questions or offer a thumbs up. His inability to do these tasks, to even focus on anything other than the cold air on his exposed flesh is the reason they keep moving around him. Shouting as if he isn’t really there at all.

A thumb presses on his chin, forcing his jaw open. He grimaces as cold metal slides into his throat. Floating between conscious and unconsciousness, he gags and feels himself twist to get away from the tube pressing into the back of his throat.

“Easy--” someone comforts as hands press his shoulders down.

Air fills his lungs, it hurts-- every muscle, bone, tendon, everything hurts. He can breathe though, full lungfuls of air. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the ambu bag, bright blue, and in Reid’s hands. They make eye contact and Hotch watches as Reid syncs their breathing. The young genius’s shoulders rise as Hotch’s lungs fill and fall as he exhales.

There was once a time when Hotch had stood by Reid’s side, his hands covering Reid’s over the ambu bag. He’d always been able to be more patient with Reid than he was with many other students. Reid’s just a kid. So he made a point to remember that in every interaction he had with the genius.

And he’d grown to appreciate Reid’s unique sense of humor. He’s a good guy.

A good kid.

“Hotch?” Reid’s throat tightens as he watches a pained grimace come across his boss’ face. He’s uncomfortable and in pain but Reid can’t do much besides keeping the ambu bag moving at a steady pace. “Garcia?” He feels a flutter of anxiety knotting his heart up. “Can’t you do something? He’s in pain.”

Morgan interrupts whatever Garcia’s going to say with a shout, “just pulled a positive tap!” A second later, the metal starts hitting the table with a clatter. The wheels of the stretcher unlock, the guard rail going up. “He’s got blood in his abdomen, he needs to get into the OR, now!”

Dave takes a stumbling step back, his arms raised above his head. It’s muscle memory to pull them away from the field-- the field, of course, being his friend's bleeding body. His heart sinks to his feet but follows in the direction that Derek is pushing Hotch. His voice barking out orders that echo down the hall.

Dave watches them go.

“Sir,” an attending waves him down. “Hotchner’s wife is gonna need heart surgery.”

Dave’s got another job to attend to.

He has Savannah call Emily to the OR. He meets his team in the room. They’re working with silence. “If you can’t pull yourself together,” his voice is harsh because they’re past life and death. “Get out of my OR.” He looks around the crowd of faces, nurses and doctors he’s known for years. There’s a solemn understanding.

They wait on edge.

“Prentiss won’t know,” Dave tells the team. His eyes move to the woman on the table and without a word, he draws back the blue cloth over her eyes. The room stands in silent shock. All of them recognize her.

Haley Hotchner.

They’ve seen the evolution of the divorce. The way Aaron came into the hospital fresh-faced and new. Haley used to bring him lunch and Dave used to catch them in the on-call room. They’d gotten pregnant, had their ultrasound a floor down from where Haley now lays. Had their boy, Jack, and fallen into a pit.

Haley stopped kissing him between visits to the hospital.

She stopped visiting altogether.

Then Emily had come.

“Prentiss can’t know.”

She won’t know.

Emily Prentiss has mastered the art of chugging hot coffee and running, which is what she’s currently doing. Emergency heart surgery, she’s thrilled. Even more so when she steps into the room and things are already in motion.

“Dave,” she greets the older man as she steps into the operating room. Her hands are raised, waiting for a nurse to place gloves over her hands. “What’re you doing in here?”

It takes every ounce of his self-control to keep his voice steady. He clears his throat, “thought I’d watch the master at work.” Sure, Dave, win her over with flattery. Maybe then she won’t hate you for lying. “That alright with you?”

Emily shrugs, “I don’t mind dazzling you.” Gloves snapped into place, she adds, “but I do prefer Heart Goddess. You know, for future reference.” She turns to Savannah, who she recognizes behind her mask. “What do we have?”

Savannah glances at Dave. For a moment, Dave’s certain the cat’s about to be out of the bag but before he can fill the silence, Savannah clears her throat. “Thirty-five-year-old female with a suspected arterial wall collapse.”

Emily frowns as she walks past the patient, eyes scanning over the ultrasound that’s pulled up. “Suspected?” she repeats. She doesn’t like the sound of suspected but she’s not complaining. It could certainly be worse. She shrugs it away. “I’m gonna time myself,” she announces. “Have you started her on L.R.s?”

“Two liters L.R. and a unit of packed cells.”

Emily nods her head and moves back to the patient. “Alright, sounds good to me.” She extends her right hand, “ten blade.”

They all watch in baited silence as she sets to work.

“It’s a goddamn…” the frustration in her voice is clear. Her brows furrow and she falls silent.

Dave tries to keep himself calm but taking a deep breath doesn’t settle his nerves. He leans over the operating table, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches. “How’s it going,” he asks. He’s a damn good surgeon himself but it’s been a long time since he was running a heart surgery like this one. His specialty runs more towards general.

Emily shakes her head. When the monitors sound in alarm she doesn’t look up to see what it is, the curse she lets out says she already knows exactly what’s wrong. “Her…” Emily pauses as she works. “The inferior vena cava is completely collapsed. I don’t know how she’s--” Both of their heads snap up as the heart monitor sounds out in alarm.

Emily pulls her hands up, shaking her head as she works. “I can’t do anything,” she tells Dave. “Everything’s a mess. She’s bleed dry and I’ve maxed out the dopamine ....” Emily blows out her breath, letting herself think. “Let me try…” she leans back over Haley.

Whatever she’s doing, causes the monitors to get louder. “Dammit!” Emily keeps working, asking for different tools as fast as the nurses can hand them to her.

The monitor flatlines.

Emily pulls her hands out and she looks over at Dave. “There’s nothing I can do,” she admits. “The heart was shredded.”

Dave refuses to believe this. “No,” he tells her. “There has to be something.” His attention snaps up as Derek steps into the room adjacent to the operating room. He’s come for news but Dave can see his eyes travel to the monitor. His shoulders sag and his mouth opens in disbelief.

Dave looks to the ground, “go talk to Derek.”

Emily frowns at him, “what is your problem?”

He doesn’t mean to. It’s nothing against her. None of this is her fault. He stood right here. He saw. She did her best but sometimes there’s nothing you can do. “Go, Emily!”

Sulking away, looking more like a pissed-off teenager than an award-winning surgeon, Emily pulls her gloves off angrily. Making a point to throw them away where Dave can visibly see how hard she throws the limp latex. She shoves her way through the door and shakes her head at Derek. “What the hell is his problem?”

Dave watches through the window.

Derek starts talking, his hands gathering near his chest as he gestures and tries to work around telling Emily the truth.

Emily takes a step back, shaking her head. She argues with him, disbelief. No. Then her head turns to Dave and to the woman laying on the table. To the sandy blonde hair she just barely recognizes until Dave reaches down and moves the blanket draped over Haley’s face.

Dave can hear her muffled shout. Her voice grows frantic and angry as she accepts Derek pulling her to his chest but her fist hitting him. Fighting with everything she’s got for this not to be true.

For Haley to be alive.

Dave begins the slow process of pulling his own garments off. Someone’s going to have to tell Aaron.

He assumes that job is going to be left for him as well.

__________

It takes Dave a minute to find JJ. She’s lost in a sea of children, crouching so that she’s level with them as she speaks. Judging by the bandanna wrapped around her forehead, she’s got them into some game. Which explains how she’s oblivious to the news he’s carrying.

“Hey, kiddos.” He tries and fails to appreciate the youthful hope written across the snotty faces beaming at him. “I’m gonna need to steal Miss JJ for a moment, okay?”

JJ looks up and tells him to wait a moment, before she manages to wiggle out of the grasp of a rather small snot nosed child. Still, she gives the kid a pat on the head before stepping to the side with Dave.

“Aaron was in a car accident--” he tells her everything. That he lied to Emily and that Haley is dead. She takes it in stride. Nodding and inquiring about the surgeries. About Hotch’s outcome.

“But you think he’s going to be okay?” she asks.

Dave hesitates before agreeing. “His intracranial pressure is being closely monitored but… they all worked to the best of their abilities and--”

JJ nods, right. They’ve got great surgeons under this roof. Hotch would be safer no place else.

“I need to ask you a favor, though.” He rubs at the back of his neck, sheepishly recalling his short-circuited shout at Emily.

JJ already knows, “I’ll take care of her.” She steps to the side, attempting to make good on her promise.

“She’s with--”

“Aaron,” JJ finishes. “I know.” Because where else would she go? When Emily seeks comfort, she goes one to two places. To JJ or Hotch and considering Emily hasn’t been on the ward, the children love her so she’d know she must be with him.

It doesn’t take long for her to find Hotch's room. JJ steps in, feeling her light bubble pop under the pressure of the blood not completely wiped from Hotch’s face. The additional loom and gloom do not help. “How’s he doing?” The room is devoid of all things light and cheerful. Sucked through the dark whole of her friends’ current moods.

His vitals are good. A steady resting heart rate of seventy-two. He’s alive and that’s more than they can say for other victims of the crash.

“He won’t wake up.” Emily stands up from his side. Uncurling her long legs from underneath her as she stretches out. Muscles ache and joints pop as she moves for the first time in several hours. She doesn’t look at him for too long, it makes her chest tight and her throat hurt to see him like this.

She prefers the medicine of everything.

She can understand pulmonary edemas, kidney failures, pneumothorax, and flail chest but… The comparison is medicine makes sense. Show her a blocked artery and she’ll work around it. Bypass isn’t an option? No problem. The surgery is over. Vitals are steady. There aren’t chest to crack or hearts to massage. All she can do is sit back and take watch.

Her best friends sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to machines and she can do nothing.

“Of course, he isn’t,” JJ grumbles, walking over to the light switch and turning on the lights. Bathed in the dark room, windows shut to cut out all natural light, and surrounded by artificial sound it’s no wonder he’s not waking up. They haven’t given him a reason to. “Emily, you’ve shut out all the natural light. Half of recovery is atmosphere and, if I were Hotch, I’d feel like everyone had given up on me.”

JJ pulls open the blinds, the bright light making Emily recoil. The room, though, brightens, and JJ can feel the warmth in her chest. It occurs to her that maybe Hotch isn’t the only one who needs some looking after. While they can rest assured that Derek, Penelope, Dave, and Spence will cycle through the room periodically. Each of them checking sutures, drain tubes, and reflex responses.

No one’s checking on eachother.

“Em,” JJ places a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Emily’s shoulders feel rock hard under her palm. “When was the last time you showered or ate?”

Emily’s too tired to even think of numbers. Instead she leans into JJ, allowing her head to rest against the space between the blondes neck and shoulder. She’s fighting tears before JJ even hugs her back. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away with me?” she asks. “We can run away right now and do gay crimes and leave all the men in our lives right here.”

JJ cups the back of Emily’s head, rubbing her back as she considers the offer Emily has been making a lot here lately. After a moment, JJ decides that she loves her best friend with all her heart and that gay crimes sound thrilling but she can’t. Besides the fact that she knows how good Emily is at sex and the gay crimes would be very gay and very nice… Neither really want to leave. “I think we’d better stay here, love.” She kisses Emily’s temple, “besides, I can’t leave in good conscience while Hotch is like this.”

Emily pulls away from JJ, moving her body so that she can lean into the smaller woman. She’s accepted with open arms and they stand leaning and silent as they watch Hotch breath.

It’s artificial and that comes with it’s own sort of sting but it’s still him.

“I killed his wife,” Emily whispers after a long moment between the ventilators hissing.

JJ knows. Dave had come to tell her the minute Haley’s heart stopped the first time on the table.

“She’s not going to be able to save her,” he’d whispered, hushed and frantic. “It’s going to crush her.”

Now, as JJ feels Emily sobbing silently beside her, she wonders how Dave knew. Emily’s never taken losing well. She’s heavily competitive. So, maybe this is the worst kind. Emily didn’t just fail… she let her best friend’s wife die.

“Ex-wife,” JJ corrects. Because that’s what Hotch and Halery were. Separated. Anybody with two eyes could see they still loved each other but the job always came first for Hotch. Haley… she wanted more. “She was his ex-wife.” Besides that, the distinction is important.

Emily knows it doesn’t matter. “I still killed her,” she replies. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

JJ looks at the man on the bed. There’s nothing she wants more than to reassure Emily that’s not true. She’s seen the way Hotch looks at her when no one else is watching. But she can’t really know. “Let’s go clean up,” she deflects. “You’ll feel better.”

God, Emily hopes she’s right.

__________

“We’re having a party.” Penelope Garcia is standing in front of her family, sans Hotch, with her hands on her hips and enough conviction in her tone to convince them that’s a solid plan. “JJ’s right,” she informs them. They had lunch together like they do every day. It may be normal to have one or two of them missing-- general surgery logs Hotch random hours and heart and brain surgery tend to run on the long side-- this is the first time any of their own have been on the table.

The first time Reid wasn’t at the table because his hands were meticulously placing holes in Hotch’s head.

“This place is way too gloomy,” and she’s right of course. Even with the light funneling into the room from the blinds JJ pulled up, Hotch is still surrounded by their dismal moods. “We’re having a party.”

After a long moment, each of them rolling this idea around Dave speaks. He’s not against the idea but he’s not exactly going to give it the go-ahead, not yet. “Aaron would hate the attention,” he deduces because that’s the truth. Hotch wouldn’t even talk to them about the divorce.

The papers for which were delivered in the middle of the workday. JJ had been the one to go get Hotch. He was in the middle of a surgery… one that someone else had to finish.

“He won’t even know,” Garcia informs them. “Reid’s keeping him in the induced coma for another night.”

This is, of course, news to the rest of the room. Reid had gotten out of the surgery and gone to collapse in bed. Exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

Emily speaks up for the first time since the meeting had been called. “He could--” she realizes how helplessly hopeful she is as soon as the words start to come out. “He could still wake up.”

He could. Reid had decreased his dosage a little post-operation before he’d gone home but before Reid could even leave the hospital Hotch’s intracranial pressure had increased.

“He could,” Garcia agrees. “That’s why, if he does. He’s going to be surrounded by us. Having a good time.”

And if there’s one thing that rings true through-out that hospital… If Garcia says it, then it’s Gospel.

“I feel stupid,” Emily grumbles, sitting still but not going through the party process as well as her friend would like. She’s in a dress because Garcia wants this to be a fancy party. Full of drinking and music. Emily knows Hotch would be just as happy if she were barefoot and daisy dukes.

JJ taps her cheek, a small soundless reprimand for moving away from the eye-liner JJ is so meticulously placing on her eyes.

Emily sits for the remainder of the make-up JJ paints onto her face. She can’t actively see it going on but she still knows it’s a lot.

“Oh my God,” Garcia beams when she sees Emily. “You’re gorgeous.” She looks at JJ, “I love it but we’re not trying to shock the man into another coma when he lays his eyes on our total bombshell babe!”

Emily rolls her eyes and shakes herself loose from Garcia’s grip. “I’m not sure I can do this.” She admits, sinking back against her chair. “How am I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t fix Haley and I can’t fix my own heart… so, what am I, JJ? Because a heart goddess certainly isn’t it.”

JJ drops her knee, ignoring the way her own dress rides up her thigh. “Emily, you’re the heart Goddess whether you like it or not.” She cups the side of Emily’s face, wiping her thumb across a tear that dares to fall from her friend’s face. “Dave had you do the surgery on Haley because you’re the best surgeon in the damn county.” She shakes her head, “hell in the nation, probably. If you couldn’t save her then no one could and her best chances were when she was on your table.”

Garcia offers a hand on Emily’s shoulder. She squeezes lightly, “you did you best, Em. You tried to save Haley but now we have to go save Hotch.”

Emily nods, caving to the idea. “Fine,” she mumbles, “but I’m not dancing.”

She lasts four seconds because as soon as she steps through the door, Dave sweeps her up. “Dance with me, bella?”

It’s mostly shifting back and forth but she can feel the tension leaving her body as she accepts Dave’s proximity. After a moment of listening to Reid and Morgan’s bickering, Dave clears his throat. “I wanted to apologize for everything that happened earlier,” he tells her. They step closer to one another so that they can hear each other over the sound of the music and monitors.

“It’s okay,” Emily whispers back, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know…” she sighs, she’s not sure what she knows.

Dave rubs her back, keeping them moving. “At the very least,” he offers, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

She pulls away from his embrace just enough to stand on the tips of her toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you,” she promises.

Air cleared and feeling a little better Dave looks over to Hotch. The kid looks better. It’s hard to tell if that’s a placebo or the truth. “Is it just me,” Dave asks, “or does he seem to be getting more popular?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe I should go into a coma.”

Emily snickers, “Dave, if you went into a coma… how would we ever know?”

Dave stops dancing, mouth open in shock. “I--” he shakes his head. “I can’t…” He shuts his mouth with an audible snap, “I can’t believe you’d say something like that!”

Behind them, Morgan and Reid are still in the heats of an argument about plastic surgery.

“Anybody can--” Morgan flusters, “it’s called aesthetic awareness, pretty Ricky. You don’t have it. It’s a fine-toothed skill and you can’t even color inside the lines.” He looks at Savannah for back-up but his girlfriend doesn’t offer it. “Never mind your mismatched socks. You just don’t have it, kid.”

Before Reid can offer a rebuttal on the matter, Garcia calls his name out.

“He’s waking up!” She dances at Hotch’s side, motioning them all over with a hurried flick of his wrist.

The music is turned down as Reid pulls out his penlight.

“Hey, kid,” Dave greets softly. He takes Hotch’s left hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re all here. Reid, JJ, Garcia.” They watch as his eyes open, it’s just a sliver but the soft brown of his eyes greets them back none-the-less. “Morgan and Emily.”

A shiver goes down Emily’s back as his eyes turn over to her. She steps up, feeling awkward as the other’s part to let her through. Garcia lets go of his other hand, letting Emily takes his hand. “Hey,” she greets softly. She smiles, unable to contain her tears when his finger slowly crawls back around hers.

“You’re gonna be a-okay,” Dave promises. “We’re all here, okay? You can get some sleep.”

His eyes flick over to Dave for a second before returning to her.

Emily looks around the room, uncertain… but her gut is forgotten by her heart as she leans over and places a kiss on his forehead. “Get some sleep, Aaron.”

Dave takes a step back, “good night, kiddo.”

She holds his hand until his eyes slip back shut. Waiting for another moment, just to be sure.

“He’s going to be okay,” Reid reassures her.

Emily steps back from the bed and nods. “I hope you’re right.” But Reid is never wrong and she holds onto that hope with everything she’s got.

@ssaic-jareau @emilyxprentiss @purple-scarf-mistress @blatant-attitude @torimea @jetaime-jespere

#criminal minds #greys anatomy au #hotchniss #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #penelope garcia

86 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- The Tale of the Three Brothers

James flipped to the last story with nostalgia, this had been his absolute favorite when he was younger, and he couldn't wait to tell Harry about it and watch him understand why.

As he read the title though, Harry felt that flash through his mind, a squirm through his innards. An understanding he still had no knowledge of, why this story must be what had caught his eye to begin with, what on earth it all could mean...

There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across.

Even as James began the feeling only intensified, though oddly Harry's vision swam double for a moment and he was sure it should be Hermione reading this to him, in a much different place...but it was all gone the moment he tried to latch onto it, and instead he settled back in his seat and tried to listen with the same attentiveness he had all the other silly tales.

However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them.

Lily did a double take in surprise, and Harry's eyes popped, causing the other three to laugh, but the shock passed quickly. This really wasn't any more weird than any other things going on with these novels.

He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

"Why aren't we ever awarded for doing shit?" Sirius sighed.

"Eventually the teachers would run out of rewards and circle back to punishment anyways, I suppose they just skipped ahead," Remus shrugged.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Harry couldn't help it, shifting his weight around more and more, a burn he'd been peacefully lacking while not having to relearn his old memories sadly paining him now again over something clearly so stupid. He clenched his shaking hand tight and resisted the impulse with all his might not to clutch at his aching head again, just concentrated on his dads voice.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

His feeling only growing worse by the second, somehow James trying to read in a goofy lighthearted tone contrasting heavily with a deep echo of words he knew his father also once saying to him...

The others noticed of course, but Harry looking so pained over something like this they had no clue of was sadly nothing new. So Lily placed her arm gently around his shoulders and waited as long as he needed to take a moment to breath again before nodding at James, who was monstrously disappointed something they'd thought Harry would just simply enjoy for once was still actually causing him pain.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death.

'The third brother...' this more than the others resonated with Harry, even as he kept rubbing at his forehead with pain he latched onto anything his mind could make sense of. He had not a clue why remembering this was hurting him so, as painful as if he were trying to remember something before it happened to him again, but thankfully like before so long as he didn't force the feeling it began to ebb.

James glanced hopefully at Harry and kept going with that same excitement, glad to see whatever Harry was struggling with he was fighting off, this was his favorite part!

So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

"You have got to be kidding me," Lily said in exasperation, actually eyeing James like she worried he was making this up as he went along. Knowing her husband, it wasn't even that crazy.

"Nope," James insisted, popping the P for emphasis even as he kept his eyes on Harry while still addressing Lily. "My dad read this story to me all the time when I was little, loved to go on about how this was where my Cloak came from."

Lily had honestly never thought why James cloak worked the way it had, he'd only shown it to her in the last year and by that time he had no real use for it. She'd had other things on her mind

when he'd showed it to her, like realizing one of her friends was a werewolf, so she'd never questioned too deeply his declaration it had been in his family for generations.

Now though, she raised a skeptical brow at him and demanded, "and you really think your Cloak came from the manifestation of Death?"

"Nah," he brushed off, a bit disappointed it wasn't Harry going along, but at least it was clear he was listening with his head tilted towards them even as he kept flattening his hair and clearly trying to repress rubbing his scar more. "I don't think my dad really did either, most of us have just come to the conclusion someone along the line made it but lost the record of how they did. Now it's just more of a family secret. Still fun how it somehow made it's way into a kids novel, maybe even where the original idea of creating it came from, so technically..." he trailed off with a still superior little smile no one acknowledged. His friends had heard all this too many times and just yawned when he looked over, and he pouted before continuing.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, he sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel.

Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed.

Harry's mind wanted to seize painfully on this, talk of the Elder Wand had cropped up once in here already, but he was instantly distracted by the others once more.

"I always wonder how much of that is just confidence," Remus couldn't help but scoff. "It really does wonders, and then his boasting just caused this tail to begin with."

"Bragging only takes you so far until you have to prove it," Sirius disagreed, his eyes gleaming with want.

When it was clear they had no more to say on it than before though, he tried desperately to ignore his disappointment and continued headache.

Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.

"Charming," Lily crinkled her nose in disgust.

And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared at once before him.

Harry could not seem to settle during this story, shifting anxiously more every second, now twirling his ring around in unease as if some part of him knew to be worried abut this. At least he did know why his eyes lingered on his parents now, what he would have given for that stone some point before all this- then his mind went blank with another snap of pain and he just shook his head miserably for his brain never working properly.

Yet she was silent and cold, separated from him as though by a veil.

All of them flinched heavily at that description, none appreciating the reminder.

Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.

Lily tightened her hold on her son, feeling the urge to be sick at still seeing that lingering look of longing in place. She disliked this one most of all for that line alone, why was that in a story for kids?!

And so Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.

James declared this with contentment, his eyes lingering on his child more than the words now as he finished. His infant sat in his godfathers lap, gurgling happily, and it still gave the father comfort that no matter his child's future, his heirloom would still hold.

And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.

"Wow, I think that was the shortest one yet," Lily crinkled her brow in fascination. She wasn't even sure where the moral in that one was. After mulling it over for a moment while the boys all declared which object they'd pick, James and Remus the cloak and Sirius the wand, she interrupted Harry, "what exactly is the point of including that one?"

"Oh come on Lily, not everything needs to have a point," James sighed. "It's a fun novelty, gives kids a chance to dream of some cool objects one day."

"I actually have a fond memory of me and Regulus on a 'quest,' looking for these," Sirius smiled reminiscently. "Of course it ended with us nabbing our fathers wand and being grounded for a week, but it was fun for an hour or two."

"So you guys don't believe they're real?" Harry interrupted, causing them all to look at him in surprise.

"Well," James began slowly, weary of the intensity with which Harry had asked. "Like I said, my cloak, I think anyways, was built from this myth as far back as my family tree will trace, yet it doesn't mean Death gave it to someone so long ago. So there's really no proof the others don't exist-"

"But there's no more proof they do either," Remus shook his head with such exasperated skepticism Harry could already feel they'd had this argument long before. "This Stone sounds like another idea of the Philosophers Stone, and though that was once made, the recipe for that is as lost as James' cloak, or at least, Flamel and Dumbledore certainly aren't sharing; so it's existence is still nothing but questionable."

"The wand is all about how you read your history," Sirius quickly tacked in before Moony could go off again on more theory's. "People have been claiming since the existence of wands to have an unbeatable one-"

"And it's caused nothing but more bloodshed and murder," Lily said with finality. As if they needed more of that in their life to be sitting around discussing it.

Sirius shrugged but made no argument so James gave Harry a curious look before going on into what Dumbledore had to say about this, honestly very curious.

Albus Dumbledore on "The Tale of the Three Brothers"

This story made a profound impression on me as a boy. I heard it first from my mother, and it soon became the tale I requested more often than any other at bedtime.

James couldn't help but chuckle slightly he had something so in common with Dumbledore. As angry as he still was at him, he really was trying his hardest not to let that linger for now at least.

This frequently led to arguments with my younger brother, Aberforth, whose favorite story was "Grumble the Grubby Goat".

Sirius snorted randomly, honestly just thankful to have any more information about this brother they'd kept hearing about but had no knowledge of before this.

The moral of "The Tale of the Three Brothers" could not be any clearer: human efforts to evade or overcome death are always doomed to disappointment.

James looked pleased and turned gloatingly to his wife, who still had a sour face, thinking there were better ways to have this in a story that didn't involve murder and suicide.

The third brother in the story ("the humblest and also the wisest") is the only one who understands that, having narrowly escaped Death once, the best he can hope for is to postpone their next meeting for as long as possible.

"Really makes you wonder how he copulated under a cloak, I mean the broad-"

Remus reached over and plugged his nose while James kept going loudly around him.

This youngest brother knows that taunting Death by engaging in violence, like the first brother, or by meddling in the shadowy art of necromancy,1 like the second brother - means pitting oneself against a wily enemy who cannot lose.

The irony is that a curious legend has grown up around this story, which precisely contradicts the message of the original. This legend holds that the gifts Death gives the brothers "an unbeatable wand, a stone that can bring back the dead, and an Invisibility Cloak that endures forever" are genuine objects that exist in the real world. The legend goes further: if any person becomes the rightful owner of all three, then he or she will become "master of Death", which has usually been understood to mean that they will be invulnerable, even immortal.

Harry couldn't help but make a keening noise of frustration, shaking his head frantically and wishing more than anything right now his brain would quit setting itself on fire. He wasn't relearning any memories more than he should, so why on earth did all of this feel so monumental, and also decide to torment him for learning it all too soon before other things to come? All of this felt like little puzzles that would not weld together, so thankfully he wasn't suffering as bad as he could, but more than any before, he simply wished this would just end.

James fully realized this and wanted to close this in disappointment and be done as well. Clearly this was doing nothing but hurting his son no matter how much they couldn't understand why, but then Harry surprised them by telling without even looking up, "go ahead and finish, it's a better distraction than wondering why this is all supposed to mean something I suppose."

James disagreed, clearly Harry had a conversation about this with Dumbledore at some point and it was paining him to have to remember even vague details about it now, but to deny Harry would only make what he said all the more true, so he fingered the next page and just tried to keep going with more urgency than some silly story should provide.

We may smile, a little sadly, at what this tells us about human nature. The kindest interpretation would be: "Hope springs eternal".

Lily couldn't help but smile for that line, aware that none but her would recognize a quote from a muggle poet Alexander Pope, but it was one she'd carried through most of her life, where her optimism so often sprang from as well, hope.

In spite of the fact that, according to Beedle, two of the three objects are highly dangerous, in spite of the clear message that Death comes for us all in the end, a tiny minority of the wizarding community persists in believing that Beedle was sending them a coded message, which is the exact reverse of the one set down in ink, and that they alone are clever enough to understand it.

Sirius couldn't help but snort with mirth at that line. Who on earth was mad enough to go looking for coded messages in a kids tale?*

Their theory (or perhaps "desperate hope" might be a more accurate term) is supported by little actual evidence. True Invisibility Cloaks, though rare, exist in this world of ours; however, the story makes it clear that Death's Cloak is of a durable nature.2

Through all the centuries that have intervened between Beedle's day and our own, nobody has ever claimed to have found Death's Cloak.

"I do wonder how no one in your family was mad enough to try," Lily couldn't help but ask him. "I understand why you didn't," she unconscionably inclined her head towards Remus, their cloak had been invaluable in their attempts to help him in much of their youth, "but no one before you?"

"I've only met my granddad once, but he told me an epic tale about his great-granddad trying," James told with a nostalgic smile, and finally Harry was looking on with that interest he so deserved in learning more about his history. "Tried to find a way to replicate the cloak, mass produce it for more money, our inheritance from the line was running thin by then. Anyways, something went awfully wrong right away, before the man could put one spell on it, and so I was told there's a curse upon it, wrought to anyone who attempts to divulge it's secrets." He finished in a goofy mystical voice.

"So only use it for good and not to steal, got it," Harry couldn't help but laugh lightly, which helped him to ignore a funny tickle in his memory he may have learned that the hard way as well.

This is explained away by true believers thus: either the third brother's descendants do not know where their Cloak came from, or they know and are determined to show their ancestor's wisdom by not trumpeting the fact.

"Well that ones out the bush," Sirius said at once. "Prongs can't show an ounce of wisdom unless he's threatened with wrought!"

James gave him a calculating look before reminding, "who exactly was it who got caught underneath it by Flitwick and had to give the lamest excuse ever for it's existence?"

Sirius let out a lengthy breath, realized his mate wasn't going to go on until Harry stopped looking at him with an already twitching smile for whatever this could be, and finally muttered, "I was, when I told him I was just trying to smuggle in a demiguise from Kettleburn."

"So who had to steal it back?" James wouldn't let go.

"You did, by spending the whole weekend and fifty Galleons to buy a demiguise and give it to Kettleburn while Remus snuck into his office to get the cloak."

"Exactly," he finished pleasantly before going on while Sirius still muttered profanities about that mess.

Naturally enough, the stone has never been found, either. As I have already noted in the commentary for "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump", we remain incapable of raising the dead, and there is every reason to suppose that this will never happen. Vile substitutions have, of course, been attempted by Dark wizards, who have created Inferi,3

They all made faces at the mention of those, though Harry gave the nastiest little shiver he was sure he didn't want to understand so didn't question what they were.

but these are ghastly puppets, not truly reawoken humans. What is more, Beedle's story is quite explicit about the fact that the second brother's lost love has not really returned from the dead. She has been sent by Death to lure the second brother into Death's clutches, and is therefore cold, remote, tantalizingly both present and absent.4

James breath caught enough all on its own he didn't notice Harry's and he had to resist the urge with all his might not to squeeze his eyes shut in pain lest he have a horrifying vision of Sirius looking anything like that.

This leaves us with the wand, and here the obstinate believers in Beedle's hidden message have at least some historical evidence to back up their wild claims. For it is the case whether because they liked to glorify themselves, or to intimidate possible attackers, or because they truly believed what they were saying, that wizards down the ages have claimed to possess a wand more powerful than the ordinary, even an "unbeatable" wand. Some of these wizards have gone so far as to claim that their wand is made of elder, like the wand supposedly made by Death. Such wands have been given many names, among them "the Wand of Destiny" and "the Deathstick".

It is hardly surprising that old superstitions have grown up around our wands, which are, after all, our most important magical tools and weapons. Certain wands (and therefore their owners) are supposed to be incompatible:

When his wand's oak and hers is holly, then to marry would be folly.

"Wonder what it says about mahogany and willow," James asked pleasantly while batting his eyes at his wife.

"The first is an idiot and the second is the fool who fell for that idiot," Lily returned pleasantly.

"You can do better than that Evans, it didn't even rhym," Sirius scoffed.

"Potter," they both corrected him, causing the two to smile at each other and Sirius to smirk.

or to denote flaws in the owner's character:

Rowan gossips,

"I never gossiped," Sirius muttered, "wandlore is stupid anyways."

"You're right, you should have had chestnut," Remus rolled his eyes while Sirius huffed at him.

chestnut drones, Ash is stubborn, hazel moans.

And sure enough, within this category of unproven sayings we find:

Wand of elder, never prosper.

Whether because of the fact that Death makes the fictional wand out of elder in Beedle's story, or because power-hungry or violent wizards have persistently claimed that their own wands are made of elder, it is not a wood that is much favored among wandmakers.

The first well-documented mention of a wand made of elder

"Ugh, isn't he done yet!" Sirius groaned. "I didn't care this much, I'm starting to feel like I'm being force fed a history lesson!"

"Still the most interesting one we've ever had," James shrugged, continuing with honest curiosity, as it had yet to say what Dumbledore felt about any of this, just stating the facts of others.

that had particularly strong and dangerous powers was owned by Emeric, commonly called "the Evil", a short-lived but exceptionally aggressive wizard who terrorized the South of England in the early Middle Ages. He died as he had lived, in a ferocious duel with a wizard known as Egbert. What became of Egbert is unknown, although the life expectancy of medieval duellers was generally short. In the days before there was a Ministry of Magic to regulate the use of Dark Magic, dueling was usually fatal.

"I am fairly confident dueling is still fatal," Lily muttered.

A full century later, another unpleasant character, this time named Godelot, advanced the study of Dark Magic by writing a collection of dangerous spells with the help of a wand he described in his notebook as "my most wicked and subtle friend, with bodie of Ellhorn,6 who knowes ways of magick moste evile". (Magick Moste Evile became the title of Godelot's masterwork.)

As can be seen, Godelot considers his wand to be a helpmeet, almost an instructor. Those who are knowledgeable about wandlore5 will agree that wands do indeed absorb the expertise of those who use them, though this is an unpredictable and imperfect business;

one must consider all kinds of additional factors, such as the relationship between the wand and the user, to understand how well it is likely to perform with any particular individual.

Nevertheless, a hypothetical wand that had passed through the hands of many Dark wizards would be likely to have, at the very least, a marked affinity for the most dangerous kinds of magic.

Harry had been rubbing his palm against his knee through most of that passage, wishing that tingling sensation would vanish already almost as much as this loaded feeling there was much more to be remembered about all of this, not much of it pleasant.

Most witches and wizards prefer a wand that has "chosen" them to any kind of second-hand wand, precisely because the latter is likely to have learned habits from its previous owner that might not be compatible with the new user's style of magic. The general practice of burying (or burning) the wand with its owner, once he or she has died, also tends to prevent any individual wand learning from too many masters. Believers in the Elder Wand, however, hold that because of the way in which it has always passed allegiance between owners "the next master overcoming the first, usually by killing him."

"How can it be an unbeatable wand if it's passed along through death?" Remus couldn't resist poking at Sirius who was still trying to pretend he was bored with this by twirling his wand about even as he kept his head tilted towards James to hear these details giving him away. "That feels redundant."

"Use your imagination Moony, wands pass along without consent. It doesn't happen often-"

"But every single time?" Remus persisted.

Lily cleared her throat obnoxiously so that they'd stop carrying on while Harry gave her a grateful look and flattened his hair again, though it did no more good than banishing his headache.

the Elder Wand has never been destroyed or buried, but has survived to accumulate wisdom, strength and power far beyond the ordinary.

"You think that's why Mrs. Longbottom gave Neville his dads wand?" Harry pointed out something that had lingered in his mind, aside from the rest of that torture going on inside the Department of Mysteries.

"Neville didn't get his parents killed," Sirius said so sharply Harry jumped and looked at him in surprise.

"Not that, the accumulating wisdom bit, strength and power over time. I'll bet she's looking for Frank in Neville or something," he finished with still distant eyes, and they were all wondering what he was really thinking of, yet sure they were all missing it.

"Well, he'll be getting his own now, so whatever her intent was it's gone," Lily said gently.

"I'll bet Neville's magic will be loads better this year because of that," James agreed happily. "Even better than he was showing in the DA."

"Least that's one good thing to be looking forward to," Remus muttered.

Godelot is known to have perished in his own cellar, where he was locked by his mad son, Hereward. We must assume that Hereward took his father's wand, or the latter would have been able to escape, but what Hereward did with the wand after that we cannot be sure. All that is certain is that a wand called "the Eldrun6 Wand" by its owner, Barnabas Deverill, appeared in the early eighteenth century, and that Deverill used it to carve himself out a reputation as a fearsome warlock, until his reign of terror was ended by the equally notorious Loxias, who took the wand, rechristened it "the Deathstick", and used it to lay waste to anyone who displeased him. It is difficult to trace the subsequent history of Loxias's wand, as many claimed to have finished him off, including his own mother.

"Dumbledore's sure done a lot of research on this," James flipped to the next page and was actually relieved to see it was the last. "I'm starting to agree with Sirius, what's the point of all this?"

"The man does his homework?" Remus shrugged indifferently while Lily didn't care past wanting it to be done with as well.

Harry just looked around at all of them and ground his teeth together rather than blurt out something he'd regret.

What must strike any intelligent witch or wizard on studying the so-called history of the Elder Wand is that every man who claims to have owned it7 has insisted that it is "unbeatable", when the known facts of its passage through many owners' hands demonstrate that not only has it been beaten hundreds of times, but that it also attracts trouble as Grumble the Grubby Goat attracted flies.

Remus still couldn't help a little smirk of victory he and Dumbledore seemed to agree on that front, than he caught sight of Harry and fully remembered all that Dumbledore would do in this future, and the smile slipped away just as fast.

Ultimately, the quest for the Elder Wand merely supports an observation I have had occasion to make many times over the course of my long life: that humans have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.

"Wonder if he's speaking from experience," Lily said waspishly, having several accounts of the man doing just that.

But which of us would have shown the wisdom of the third brother, if offered the pick of Death's gifts?

James couldn't help but hum thoughtfully at that. Even now, with all his years he'd had with his cloak, given the choice of the three this moment, would he still pick the same? To see his parents again, to have even just one more protection for his family? He honestly wasn't at all sure no matter what he said aloud.

Wizards and Muggles alike are imbued with a lust for power; how many would resist "the Wand of Destiny"? Which human being, having lost someone they loved, could withstand the temptation of the Resurrection Stone? Even I, Albus Dumbledore, would find it easiest to refuse the Invisibility Cloak; which only goes to show that, clever as I am, I remain just as big a fool as anyone else.

"Ah, he does admit it, even to himself," Sirius growled.

"Wonder what changes then in times for him to take so long to do so," Harry snapped at no one in here while his dad finished.

1 Necromancy is the Dark Art of raising the dead. It is a branch of magic that has never worked, as this story makes clear.

2 Invisibility Cloaks are not, generally, infallible. They may rip or grow opaque with age, of the charms placed upon them may wear off, or be countered by charms of revealment. This is why witches and wizards usually turn, in the first instance, to Disillusionment Charms for self-camouflage or concealment. I have been known to be able to perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful as to render myself invisible without the need for a Cloak.

3 Inferi are corpses reanimated by Dark Magic.

Harry crinkled up his nose in disgust. He was right, he hadn't wanted to know.

4 Many critics believe that Beedle was inspired by the Philosopher's Stone, which makes the immortality-inducing Elixir of Life, when creating this stone that can raise the dead.

5 Such as myself.

6 Also an old name for "elder".

7 No witch has ever claimed to own the Elder Wand. Make of that what you will.

James finished with a roaring laugh while Lily snatched the book away and gave him a light swat for whatever that laugh meant. James got it back before flipping through pages randomly instead of fully addressing Harry as he uneasily told him, "well, that was the last of them."

"I'm still taking the rest of the day," Sirius said at once, he knew he couldn't handle just yet hearing of Harry's next year, it helped nothing this couldn't even end on a truly pleasant note as Harry kept eyeing that story with some deep look none of them could know until it was too late.

The others agreed with him at once, and left Harry's next year for another day, still trying to enjoy whatever distance they could without having to spend the next indeterminable amount of time for the rest of this nightmare of a future.

HPHPHPHP

Hope you enjoyed these! They really are so much fun to read and they still make me smile, plus I absolutely inhale anything to do with this world, the extra knowledge in these pages and even something as silly as what kids would have been told as their bedtimes stories in conjunction with ours endlessly fascinates me.

*I am, unashamedly. I've spent many a countless hours on Harry Potter fan sites full of inner messages of these novels, leading to the existence of this fic, so you're welcome Sirius.

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #the tales of beedle the bard #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

3 notes · View notes

stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

Sugary Kisses and Broken Glasses

Summary: When loving Roman Sionis angst i never far away.

Warning: None. Language towards the end.

Arthur’s Note: This is after Creative Fervor Early Days with Roman, An Attempt but before Roman’s Lady is His Luck new chapter coming!!! and Gotham Lockdown 2020 (Christmas is coming to the lockdown!)

You bit down on your pencil as you stared at your blank page. The ideas, just were not coming. It looked like a lovely day, but you had a project lined up.

You knew Roman was already downstairs, going through rehearsals with the dancers and the singer for the brand new number. You could already hear the music. Sighing, you focused back on the page and got to work.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

You smiled, the sound Roman’s rich, deep voice made you happy.

Looking around your easel and surprise filled you. Roman, was in a fun and colorful t-shirt and jeans. “Roman?” You raised your eyebrows.

“What?” He gave you an easy going smile. “I want us to go out and have fun. I rarely get away from the club and with you, especially.” He came over to you. “

You nodded. “I know but..” you gestured to his clothes.

He shrugged. “I didn’t always wear suits. I wasn’t wearing a suit when I got those shruken heads.”

You rose an eyebrow.

He nodded. “I had a few adventures, before all of this.” He took the pencil from your hand, and the gently helped you up. “Today, let’s just disappear for the day.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. Now, go get into something cute and I will wait for you by the elevator.”

“Ok, this is great Roman. Where are we going?”

“That new amusement park at the pier, The Booby Trap.”

Excitement prickled you even more! “Oh, Roman this will be so much fun!” You hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss on his cheek before you ran off.

******

Roman cut the engine and turned to you. “Here we are!” A playful smile was splashed across his face.

With your arms looped, the two of you made your way over. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Roman stopped, one way led to the amusement park area with the rides and the incredibly fun food. The other way was the pier that had several statues along the way. Perfect for a romantic stroll.

“Which way should we go first?”

You eyed both. “Let’s go to where the rides are. Maybe later before we head back, we can take a romantic stroll along the pier.”

His eyes, moved up and down you. He smirked. “Y/N, you look really good.“

Roman, had a way that even after being together for just shy of a year, made you still blush hard. “Thank you.”

“This stroll, I suppose, we could do something like that.”

Sometimes, Roman could really surprise you. He was one who liked to stayed close to his club and kept an eye on it. Only time he’d leave is to expand business or go to functions.

“Baby look,” He stopped. “I am not one for cute couply things.”

“Roman, you...”

“Baby,” He said a little firmer, but then his lips curled into a smile, the one he only gave you. “I never cared for anything like this. But you, make me want to do things.”

You smiled. “Oh, Roman I don’t know what to say.”

“You can tell me whether you want fried dough or a blooming onion?”

“Fried dough, please!”

“Great, let’s go!”

You didn’t think he would know about those kind things, but you were not going to mention that. He mostly likely either researched it or asked Victor. Which made you love him even more.

*****

The two of you huddled close to each other as you tore through the landscape on the huge wooden roller coaster, chuckles came from the two of you as drove and then drove into each other in the bumper cars, which took a moment for him to get used to since he always was driven.

In the shadows of the overly cutesy and peppered with hearts, tunnel of love you and Roman shared some sweet hidden kisses. Still giddy from all of them, you held on tightly to Roman’s arm, as the two of ventured into the haunted house. He chuckled a few times when you screamed in fright, but he held you closer.

You noticed, his cool on things were tested when you entered the wax museum. Many of the figures, made him a touch nervous. Especially, when there was one of Batman, cloaked in shadows. However, he was incredibly flattered when he saw there was a figure of him. You could resist teasing him, saying that maybe the figure was more handsome then he was. That was when he pulled you to the nearest shadows, and kissed in such a away that he led you away to the fried dough that left you breathless and your heart racing.

While, you enjoyed the powdery sugared dough, the two of you strolled into the area where he could win you a prize. After spotting a place where you thought they had the best prizes, he went after one for you. He was in his element. He took quite the stance. Every time, he reached the next level, you give him a kiss. They were kisses, sweetened and dusted with the powdered sugar from your treat. With a grand win, he handed you the purple cow your heart had fallen in love with.

With a firm hand, he helped you to climb up onto a lovely white steed with silvery accents. Beside you climbed up onto a black steed with golden accents. Around the two of you went. It was truly a wonderful day.

As the day began to darken and turn into a purple like your cow, then eventually into an inky black, you noticed he brought you to the pier with all the statues.

*****

“Let’s just go right up to the penthouse.” Roman, said once he parked and closed the underground parking area of the building.

“Sounds good to me.”

As Roman, lounged on the sofa you made the two of you a drink to enjoy after all the fun the two of you had. The purple cow now sat on the overstuffed chair near the sofa. She was also now being referred to as Millie.

You came back over with his three olive martini, Roman was giving Millie a very serious look. You handed it to him, and he lifted his arm so you could cuddle close with your amaretto sour.

Not missing the look, you looked at him and Millie and back again. “Roman?” You pulled one of the cherries out and enjoyed it.

He looked over at you, took a sip of his drink. A goofy, silly smile crossed his face. “The more I look at Millie, the more I wish I would have won you a companion for her.”

You smiled at him. “Well, we have until the day after Halloween to go back.”

“Three weeks.” He made a thoughtful sound. “Something, to think about.”

You smiled and cuddled closer.

The elevator, dinged and you annoyed buried your face into his side. You knew it was too much to have an entire evening alone with him.

Victor, seeing how the two of you were on the couch and scratched at the back of his head. He grimaced and his brow wrinkled.

“If you came up and felt it was important to find me, despite me telling you, I wanted one to be away from all of just one night it must be serious. Victor, tell me am I right?”

Victor, continued to look at his shoes and then he finally looked at him and you. “Two-Face is demanding to see you, Joker apparently...” He began when the elevator, ding announcing its arrive chimed through the penthouse.

“Why, are the henchmen...”

You felt as Roman, went rigid. His blue eyes were flames. You had not seen him this angry in quite a long time. You moved to give him some space.

“Sionis, your man here is not listening. Joker and Harley, killed five of my good men out of my men.”

“You have barged into my private quarters for that? What made you think I fucking care?”

The lethal edge Roman’s voice took would have given you a chill, if you weren’t his girl. And the fact that, he had never used that tone with you helped.

Two-face looked the two of you over. “I flipped my coin to try and decide what to do. It keeps on telling me to talk to you.”

“Then you wait fucking downstairs.”

“What if...”

“Go down there now and wait for me or you can fucking leave.” Roman snapped.

“Fine. Fine.” Two Face, held his hands up both sodes lookiny more relaxed at Roman’s words.

Roman, turned to Victor. “Find a way for that to never happen again. Or you will regret it.” He finished the drink. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

He threw the glass. “Fucking fucks!” He raged and threw the glass. Upon shattering, he pushed himself back into the sofa. “A few hours away.” He mumbled.

You moved back over to him, placing q gentle hand on his arm. “Roman?” His arm stiffened but then he relaxed and he gave you a a sidelong glance. He exhaled.

“I swear sometimes, I really could kill Joker and Harley. Why do they have to kill people out of hand?”

You shrugged, but you did know this further made you dislike the two.

He turned to look at you. “I better change and squash this.” He frowned. “They ruined our night.”

You nodded. “Roman” You decided so that no more heads would roll, you would attempt to get him out of the funk, he could be heading toward. “you are the king of Gotham,” you comtinued. “and sometimes, you are called to squash things like this.”

He smirked. “You’re right.” The storm in his blue eyes began to calm.

You smiled sweetly at him. “Would you like me to change into something cute for the club and maybe keep you company?”

He nodded. “I’d like that. Maybe that sexy little dress with the slit up the side.”

“I remember how it got the slit up the side.” You flushed, you always felt particularly naked in the shimmery black dress. “Anything, for you.” He had still liked the dress after slicing at it, so he had sent it to his tailor to fix it. Now, no one except the two of you knew why only the one side had a slit.

“Take your time, I want to watch you walk into my club.”

You smiled. “I’ll freshen up and make my way over to you.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, cupped your chin and gave you a kiss before making his way to his closets of suits.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r

#Sugary Kisses and Broken Glasses #roman sionis #black mask #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x reader #black mask imagine #black mask x reader #black mask x you #black mask x y/n #ewan mcgregor

33 notes · View notes

currebunz · 3 years

Text

Wearing Nothing But A Smile Ch.12: Autumn Feelings

[AO3 link]

Summer had gone by quicker this year for you. Usually, your summers involved helping your parents out and going on small trips with them. But this year had been very different as you now had friends, ones who were eager to take you all over. Togata had a plan almost every week for you all to hang out and do something. It started as just going out for lunch and turned into full days of fun. Hado would invite you for a 'just girls' day, in which the two of you would talk about the other two or whatever Hado was currently interested in. The only thing that stressed you out was when she wanted you to try on clothing you weren't used to. But even those were fond memories you found yourself looking back to. She always meant well and backed off when you felt too out of your comfort zone. Togata had become more aware of your feelings, asking for your permission before acting. It was a bit funny to see him pause in the middle of something just to turn and smile at you. He always asked politely if he was overstepping or if you were okay. You found yourself growing used to his antics, being less surprised and more entertained with his goofy behavior. Amajiki was still the same, but he began to approach you more. He confessed to feeling more at ease with you around, which was mutual as you came to rely on him. Lately, your thoughts were full of reminiscing on the days you spent with your friends. It felt weird and clingy to be thinking about it so much, enough you felt embarrassed with yourself. Wasn't this how life was supposed to be? Enjoying your days and spending them with friends nearly every day?

But then, what were you doing up until now?

A chill traveled down your spine as you felt the intrusive thoughts began to speak loudly in your head. Up until now, you had been hiding away, living passively in hopes no one would notice you. Nothing to aspire for, nothing to hope for, only endless loneliness. But even that was a lie. You knew your parents were trying their best and they were doing more than enough. It made you feel worse for thinking this way, weren't you just pathetic? You inhaled sharply, holding your hands to your chest-

Your phone began ringing.

Without thinking, you quickly answered it. "Aha! My intuition was right!" Hado's voice playfully chimed in. "Intuition? What are you talking about?" you asked her. Hado hummed happily, giving you a bit longer to think about it. "You were feeling lonely again, weren't you?" she said suddenly. Like a ton of bricks, her answer hit you and made you go quiet. "I am right, aren't I? I think I know you well enough by now" she continued. The guilt ate away at you, was she that worried about you? "O-Oh, sorry" you began. It was very strange to think someone other than your parents was that concerned about you. Usually, your classmates were hardly aware you were there. A few people were more attentive, but they came and went as the weeks changed. But Hado, Togata, and Amajiki had spent the entire year on your shoulders. "What? Don't apologize! You sound like Amajiki!" Hado giggled. Hearing her voice had made you feel better, you were thankful that she called. "Was there something you needed? You don't usually call me out of the blue like this" you asked her. 'Usually', that word felt so weird. When did it become 'usual' for you to receive calls like this? "Ehh? Hmm, oh right! Togata had called me and asked if you liked crepes! He said there was a popular crepe truck in town and wanted to have everyone go try some" Hado explained. A small smile came to your face as you thought of him excitedly trying together everyone together. "What did you say?" you asked her.

"I told him to call you," Hado said.

You could hear the smile on her face as she said that. Immediately, your palms went sweaty and you felt your hand begin to shake. "You....said what?" you asked her. "I told him to call you dummy, I'm not a mind reader. Besides, isn't it nice to hear a guy's voice up close and personal like that?" Hado giggled. Of course, talking on the phone was innocent enough. But being the introverted person you were, it wasn't like you called much. Hearing voices through the phone just made you anxious to end the call. But hearing someone's voice that you liked? That would certainly be a new experience. "I can hear you panicking! It'll be easy, just like talking to me" Hado laughed. "Wait, you can hear me what? Oh god, did I really make a sound?" you asked her. But Hado only continued to laugh, her voice sounding soothing through the phone. You felt the phone vibrate as you got a text, no doubt from Togata. "Okay, I'm gonna hang up now. Enjoy your talk~" Hado hung up before you could say another word. Your cheeks burned as you looked at your phone. Togata had sent a smile sticker in your private chat. He always liked sending you silly images or stickers to fill the space when you both talked. Even when texting, it felt stiff and awkward. But now you were supposed to expect a call from him?!

Togata: [Hey this might sound weird but can I call?]

You let out a sigh of relief, he had at least texted you first.

You: [Yeah]

No sooner did you send your reply did your phone start ringing. You could have laughed at the agency he had or the fact you were getting a call in the first place. But your thumb had hit accept before you could react. Hastily putting the phone to your ear, you inhaled a sharp breath. "Yes?" you answered. You could hae beaten yourself up for answering with 'yes' instead of 'hello', but the lack of noise on the other end made you more nervous. "Togata?" you tried again. "Bahahaha! Sorry, I was surprised is all!" came Togata's loud voice. He loud even on the phone, but that wasn't what bothered you. After what Hado had said, it felt like he was super close to you. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine he was speaking into your ear. The sudden thought had you reeling from the phone and trying to wipe the thought from your mind. "Eh? Now you've gone quiet!" Togata laughed. You hadn't heard a word he had said since he had begun talking. Feeling bad about it, you made a sound in agreement. "Sorry, I-I don't know what happened..." you apologized. "It's fine, I just want to know if you like crepes" Togata replied. Just as Hado had said, he was looking to invite you out with them all. "O-Oh, yeah. I do" you said after some time.

"That's great! Want to meet up with us near the train station? There is a crepe truck in town" Togata explained. You looked at the time, it wasn't late so you didn't have to worry about telling your parents. "Sure, I'll meet you there" you agreed. "Alright then, I'll see you there," Togata said back. It then occurred to you that he had no intention of hanging up and you weren't the one to usually end calls. A brief silence hung between you both as neither had said goodbye yet. "Um, did you need anything else Togata?" you asked. "Hm? O-Oh! No, not at all! Uh, but you can just call me Mirio. Okay?" he said. You swallowed, your fingers drumming on the back of your phone. "Okay, see you soon," you said as your finger hovered over the end call button. "Mn! See you soon!" Togata said back. Even after ending the call, you could still hear his laugh. It was only a few minutes but it had felt like seconds. You had to pinch your cheek to get yourself in gear, everyone would be waiting for you!

After leaving your house, you sped walked to the station. By now, you knew the way by heart just from how many trips you had taken with your friends. Before them, you had hardly gone to the station. There was no need for you to venture out on your own anyway. It took only a few minutes for you to spot Hado's light blue hair. She was animately chatting up Amajiki, who looked anxious. He had gotten used to Hado's hyper mood and let her talk to her heart's content. Amajiki turned to you and a smile made its way onto his face. You couldn't help but smile too, approaching the two. Just as you were about to greet them, a shoulder bumped into yours. To your right, Togata had appeared. He had just arrived at the same time as you. "Oh, coming at the same time. Did you two have a secret meeting?" Hado giggled. Togata simply laughed, neither denying nor confirming her suspicions. You had frowned, knowing she was teasing you. "Nejire, you know that isn't true" you stated firmly. But she simply smiled at you knowingly. Nejire linked arms with you, smiling at Togata and Amajiki. "Come on, the crepe truck is gonna close soon!" she announced. All four of you began speed walking to the destination, jumping into the long line. You animately talked about what kind of crepe you were going to get. You hadn't had one in a while but had a vague idea of what you wanted.

The line quickly died down and all three of you had collected your own crepe. Everyone was satisfied with their choice, but Togata was looking at yours. "Hey, can I have a bite? I'll give you a bite of mine" he offered. While you didn't mind, you were interested in his crepe. His crepe had peaches with sweet cream and was dusted with cinnamon. "Sure," you said as you tilted your crepe toward him. Togata took a small bite, licking his lips happily. He tilted his crepe to yours and you nervously took a bite. Togata looked pleased that you did, a bright grin on his face. "How do you like it?" he asked. "It's good" you agreed. "Hey hey! Me too!" Hado bounced over and took a bite of your crepe. You were about to complain but she pushed her crepe to your lips. It was a blueberry jam with blackberries in it. You took a small bite and it tickled your cheeks. Hado looked like she wanted to say something but she kept quiet. Amajiki shyly looked at you and you could tell he wanted to exchange bites too. "Here," you sighed as you tilted your crepe toward him. He tilted his crepe to yours and you both had a bight of each one. His crepe had been a red bean crepe with matcha powder in the dough. You were nearly full and you still have half of your crepe to finish. Finally, HAdo decided to speak her mind.

"Wah! We all shared an indirect kiss with ____!" she exclaimed. Both you and Amajiki looked slightly mortified but Togata's smile only grew wider. "I guess we did huh?" he chuckled. "T-that's not why I did it, Hado!" you argued. Almost in desperation, Amajiki ate the rest of his and turned his head to the nearby wall. He was mumbling what you could only imagine was apologies for even being here. Hado and Togata looked pleased with both of your reactions as if they had planned such a thing. You weren't sure if they did or not, but you felt a lot better than you did before. Once everyone had finished their crepes, you began walking back to the station. Amajiki and Hado were walking ahead of you, she was talking his ear off again. You were walking with Togata, enjoying the last few moments of the day. "Hey, I just remembered something," Togata said after some time. You hummed in agreement, only half listening to him.

"Want to go on a date tomorrow?"

You suddenly stopped walking.

#Mirio Togata #mha mirio #mirio x reader #Tamaki Amajiki #bnha tamaki #tamaki x reader #hado nejire #bnha nejire #nejire x reader #bnha #mha

14 notes · View notes

antigoneidk · 4 years

Text

One last time|t.h.

a/n: seriously this was a random idea i had at 2 am in the morning.

(edit: how the heck you guys were reading this this entire time? i can believe that someone is able to make SO many mistakes like me. all i can say is thank from the bottom of my heart)

warning:fluff,angst

The day was shining and the birds were singing. The sky was blue, peaceful,making you feel like a whole new person. You wanted to get out,filling your lungs with fresh air,celebrating every moment with the love of your life.

Your boyfriend.

He was sleeping on the other side of the room. His wavy hair coming down to his face. Closed eyes and a slightly open mouth. His hands were hugging the pillow near him. His breathing was slow,heavy. The lighting in the room made him look like a angel.

Well he was a angel. A kind person, always there for you and his loved ones. A funny boy, making you laugh whenever you're feeling down. Silly and cute at the same time. Your fears were terrified of him, ‘cause he was the only one that could make them disappear.

You were in love and you couldn't deny it.

You smiled as you were approaching him and sat down next to him with this stupid smile still on your face. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled some of them behind so that you can admire his beauty.

He was no longer asleep. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at you staring at him as you grabbed his face with your hands and leaned to him.

"Good morning"you said and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good morning love" he said back, his voice deeper than usual.“Can you please wake me up like this every day?"he added and looked at you with his still sleepy face.

You looked at him weirdly.

"What did I do?"you laughed.

"Staring out your window and then at me with this beautiful smile on your pretty face. I love that"his heavy morning voice made your heart beat faster. He leaned towards,grabbing your cheek and leaving you a soft kiss on your lips.

This. Your favourite. Your entire being melting at his touch and falling in love with him even more.

“Do you wanna get out? I mean the weather is perfect outside. We can go eat something and then go for a walk in the park. If you want to or else we can stay home and I can make you som-"

"I want to" he stopped you. He liked it when you were talking so fast like this every time you would suggest something to do together. He knew deep down that you cared for him, and time like these his heart flattered.

"Okay then. Get dressed and we're leaving"

---

The air was hitting your face. You breathed clean and fresh air. You were looking out the window like a little kid,happy, excited to discover anything new. You knew the road very well, every inch of it, but it felt like the mother nature would do something, that would drive you insane.

Tom was amazed by your beauty. Your hair,your face,the way you placed your hand out the window, the expressions you made through out the entire road.He knew he made the right decision. He was in love with you. He loved you. Every single piece of you, from the way you talked to the way you remained silent when a situation was bothering you, or how you had the power to control your emotions when there were people around, or even how you turned red whenever you felt embarrassed and smiled shyly. For him you weren’t the girl next door but a creature to pure for this world.

He parked in front of a little coffee shop. There were 2 little tables in front of it with plants decorating it. You already had the taste of the croissant and the coffee in your mouth, your inside getting excited with the idea of food, but as you tried to get out of the car a hand stopped you.

"I suggest taking something and go to the beach for a walk. Huh?"he smiled as he raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply.

"That is an wonderful idea baby. Yes let's do that" you clapped your hands and looked at him with a smile, closing your eyes for a moment and placing your hands to your face giggling.

"Okay stay here. I want this day to be perfect just for you" he said making you curious.

"I'm an independent woman. I can do this" you said pulled your hair back from your shoulders.

"I know pretty girl but let me do this okay? I want this day to be perfect for you"he kissed you as he opened the door making his way inside the store laughing just like you did. He was being such a lovely man for you.

---

"This croissant is just perfection. Like,hmm,the chocolate and-oh my God I can't even put it into words. This is heaven and I'm not accepting other opinions" you said, letting your thoughts out loud in front of your boyfriend. You weren't thinking, just enjoying your food.

The guy next to you started laughing. This noises of his laughter and the way his eyes closed a little making him even more attractive to your eyes. No, this was perfection but you played along.

"No I disagree. Look at my face. This is perfection darling. Ohh yes" he placed his hands over his face,posing in front of an imaginary camera acting like the supermodel he was.

"Hands on the wheel sir"you demanded dying from laughter. His goofy expressions, even though he was trying to be a 'proper model' were funny to you.He placed his hands back on the wheel making fun of himself and how stupid he was, but you shut him off by kissing his cheek.

You connected your phone and opened a playlist. You two had time to get to the beach he wanted to so what a better way to enjoy this little trip than jamming to some songs?

Knights of Cyndonia came. This was your favourite song. The rhythm,the lyrics,the voices.

“No one's going to take me alive.Time has come to make things right. You and I must fight for our rights.You and I must fight to survive” you were dancing now to the beat of the drums ,screaming these words to each other and forget about everything else.

Your problems, fears, everything that could ruin this moment was no longer in your mind. You always had that problem of thinking about other things, distracting you from the present. That was something you didn't liked about yourself and tried to change.

But now you were dancing and singing,well actually yelling, full of happiness and joy. Little tears came down your face but you were quick enough to stopped them before him noticing it. You kissed your man on the cheek once more and kept acting like a foolish kid,not giving a damn about the rest of the world.

Tom was feeling the same way. His attention was all yours, enjoying every second as much as possible, but he knew that the two of you were about to have moments even better than that.

But the universe didn't give a damn about you either or your happiness in this car, but it was ready to destroy this wonderful moment.

A car from the opposite lane came to your way.

None of you noticed anything,even thought the other car tried to warn you. You were paying attention to each other. You looked at him as he looked at you smiling and laughing like a little kid.

You were a fool for this boy.

His hair brushed all the way back, his black t-shirt around his upper body and his strong muscular hands that when they were around you, you knew you were safe. As you kept looking at them you remembered the first time he ever hugged you. A moment you could never forget and the feelings you got. Or how his eyes met yours before his lips touched your soft ones.

That was the last thing you got to your mind before black.

---

"My little girl, my child, I love you. Please come back to me little angel. You have so much more to discover and see from this world. We missed your soft voice and your cute laugh. Oh dear God, why are you doing this to us? Please, I'm begging you, bring this little angel back to us. I love you baby. I love you so much. Please be strong and fight, I know you can"

Those were the first words you heard. Your head was hurting. You felt weak,alone,hopeless. You tried to open your eyes, trying to figure out what was happening, but the room was spinning making it even harder for you.

The first thing you saw was your mum and dad sitting next to you holding each others hands and yours too keeping it warm.

"Mum?Dad?" you whispered, to weak for anything else.

"Baby? Oh my God? My little girl" your mum said and left her tears all the way down to her face. She hugged you left a kiss on your forehead.

Your dad left the room running.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Are you tired? Do you want some water?" she sounded worried as she kept asking questions you did not have answers to. Your head started hurting even more trying to understand what was happening and why you were in a bed and not at the beach you were supposed to be.

"Its okay darling. It's okay I'll explain later okay?" she kissed your forehead once again, seeing you confused looking around at the room. Your dad got inside and ran to you, with a smile on his face that you were back to him. Soon an old man showed up and both of your parents step aside.

A doctor.

"What is happening here? Someone explain. Please" you begged your mum for answers but your powers faded away as soon as your words left your mouth and you just went back to sleep, even though you had been in a coma for 1 and a half week.

---

"Mummy? Are you here?" you said as your eyes were still shut. Your pain wasn’t as bad, but still you felt exhausted, fatigue. This was the worst you had been since forever, sick without even knowing why. Is this your fault or somebody else caused it? How you got there? How your loved ones found out?

"Shh.Im here now" she whispered as she was touching your hair looking at you the way moms do. With love you can’t have from another person in the whole world. You opened your eyes facing her and the white wall behind her body.

"Please explain to me. What is happening?" you begged and tears fell from your eyes. You couldn't help but cry from the pain and the confusion you were dragged to.

"You have to rest first and then we'll talk I promise"

"No mum. I wanna know so please do me a favor and talk to me" you tried moving your hand but the pain became worse.

You looked at your body. Your mum was seeing bruises all over you face this entire time.Your right hand was broken and scars decorated your legs all over. A white robe covered your whole body and you were sure underneath were also bruises or even stiches.

"You were in the car with Tom when a car crushed with yours. The other driver claims that he tried to warn you but you didn’t listened as it seems. So now you're here. You've been in a come for almost 2 weeks. You scared me baby. Please promise me you'll never do this again"

From all this the only thing that was in your head was Tom.

Where was he? How he was feeling? Maybe he was better than you.

You couldn’t think of the other scenario.

"How is Tom?Where is he? I wanna talk to him" you said and tried to stand but you collapsed back down.

"He is fine. Trust me he is, just stay here and relax, you can’t leave now"

"No I don’t believe you mum. You're lying! I know you do! Just let me talk to him. Or even see him. I want to make sure he is okay" you tried to scream a little with the hope of scaring her a little just so she can help you get to him.

"No honey I told you. First of all you can't even get up. He is okay baby, but please stau where you are" she wasn't longer looking at you. This was a sign that she was lying. She always did that, cause she was a person that never lied.

"NO!MUM JUST LET ME GO"you were crying now, your pain not only physically but mentally too. Your anger started to built up really fast, not only with yourself for not knowing it sooner, but from the fear that might something bad had happened to him.

You managed to stand up. Your mum was watching full of terror, that she even tried to stop you by grabbing your shoulders and pulling you back, but your anger was huge that it gave you the strength to stay still.

You were now through hallways trying to figure out where might his bed be. As you were searching you fell down on your knees. Your mum ran behind you and trying to get you up with a help from a doctor that just got out from a room.

You asked the doctor for his room with tears in your eyes, but also hope. You were breathing really hard and your body was exhausted from the walk you took,even for these 20 steps. It was a lot for you to handle.

"I'm sorry miss, but this young man passed away few days ago"

Those weren’t the words you expected.

This young man passed away

So that was it? You would never see his face again? His eyes, his smile? You would never hear him talk to you, or laugh, or whisper to you when you would need to? You would never ran to his arms just so you can feel him, or comfort him, or sleep knowing that you are secure?

Your heart was broken into billion pieces. The only thing that was left from him was memories, some clothes at your apartment, his smell on your sheets and the ghost of him following you for the rest of your life. You wished you were in his position. He had so much to do in this world, to share, to create.

That last memory of him in the car was repeating in your head. You never got the chance to say goodbye properly.You had been in a coma, not by his side to hold his hand, whisper to him, telling him how much you loved him. But you also didn’t have the chance to share one more kiss. Make love one more time. Hug each other one more time. Hear him one last time.

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

Stay home and stay safe:) *gif is not mine*

133 notes · View notes

ironmansuuucks · 4 years

Note

Dude. Its only me 😇🐨 Butttt... can i ask for a fluffy Dewey x reader where the reader is this insecure-bouncy-odd-tattooed-hippie-open-minded-chick that talks to her plants in the garden and dries flowers and stuff and Dewey notices and falls head over heels for her??? 💙🤫☀️🤘🌷🌼🌻💐🌸🌹🦗🐞🐝🕸️🍂🍀🌿🌵🌳🍃🦋🕊 pretty pleaaase?

hello my lovely, thank you for your beautiful request! thank you so so much for submitting and i’m super sorry its taken me so long!

but we have it now! and I hope I have done it justice! and of course you have made thee most beautiful aesthetic to match!

words: 1800

Dewey had to get out of there. He had seen his ex-girlfriend in the coffee shop he frequented, which was fine, until he seen her dumbass new boyfriend standing there next to her. And that was it. He was outta there faster than you can say cappuccino with chocolate on top please.

Hood up, hands in pockets and head down. He just needed to walk. Clear his head. Anywhere would do. So he just wandered where his feet took him.

Eventually he found himself in an area full of little cottages and bungalows on avenue fifth. It was quaint, and differed a lot from the big city atmosphere he was used to. It was surrounded by tall trees, and bushes and flower gardens all over. It was refreshing. And the smell of all the flowers was endearing.

As he looked around, he could hear someone.. humming? He knitted his eyebrows together as he looked around, hoping to see where the quiet humming is coming from.

As his head swings around to the right, towards the noise, he first notices this beautiful front garden, covered in beautiful wild flowers and shrubberies. It was enchanting.

And then he saw you. The humming coming straight from your lips. She’s beautiful, he thought. He could see parts of your skin from underneath your cardigan, and you were painted in delicate, intricate tattoos. And heck, you were wearing the cutest overalls underneath your cardigan. They were kinda messy with paint, and gardening, but they were adorable. You were beautiful.

And Dewey was full on staring at you. And as you picked a few more flowers, you lifted her head, and your eyes caught his for a brief second.. before Dewey darted his gaze away. He felt bashful that he had been caught admiring you.

His cheeks went a bright, rosy red colour, mirroring the wild flowers carpeting the garden, and his head went down, picking up his walking pace.

His head was spinning. Who was she? She was amazing. Beautiful. I need to know her. He thought to himself as he walked home, his mood significantly lifted.

* * * * * *

Luckily the next day, Dewey’s plans were open, and there was only one thing on his agenda; head down avenue fifth. Hopefully catch a glance at the flower girl.

He had to lay his eyes on you again. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you. How captivating you were. You had taken up every inch and crevice of his thoughts. And you’d had no idea.

So he woke up earlier than normal. He showered, shampooed and conditioned his hair, lathering himself in body wash, singing Maggie May by rod Stewart.

Dewey even ironed his favourite Motley Crue t-shirt – sincerely a first for him – and gave his black converse a quick wipe down with a cloth. He felt brand new. As if he was on cloud nine. Like he was ready to go and face the world.. or maybe just this cool chick down avenue fifth.

As he inched closer and closer to the little cottage towards the end of the street, his hands began to get sweaty. He was so nervous. Like what if she thinks I’m weird? Or, or ugly or too chubby, or that I’m messy.. what if she doesn’t like music.

His head was racing. He could almost lay eyes on the wild flowers at the end of the garden over the fence. Hopefully you were there.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He felt kinda awkward, so he shoved his hands in his pockets dramatically. Then he pulled them back out.

What? No. you don’t wanna look like some thug.

He shifted his eyes to the right, the garden just coming into his view.

Aw good, she’s there. What do I do? What do I say?

He was so nervous.

And suddenly he was walking right past the garden. He could see you bending down, picking flowers from the garden and placing them into a basket. It looked as though you were talking, or singing? He wasn’t sure.

And then it happened. you gazed up, and your eyes met his. Dewey was in a dizzy haze and it took him a moment to take in what was going on; he was too mesmerised.

Until he was pulled back to reality when he heard a small “hey” escape from you lips. He began to blush, and babble “uh, uh hey!” he managed out.

His hand absentmindedly found its way up into a cute little wave, you notice and smiled, giggling a little.

Dewey’s cheeks went even redder and he moved his hand and rubbed the back of his scorching hot neck.

He had stopped walking when they caught eyes, and now the setting felt a little awkward. Dewey had no idea what to do or say. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“I-I, I really love your garden” he choked out. Still rubbing the back of his neck.

You were sitting on her knees, leaning back and smiled, looking around the garden, feeling a little bashful that this cute stranger was making conversation. “um thanks”.

Dewey nodded, feeling incredibly awkward. He rocked on his heels very lightly while darting his eyes from side to side.

“yeah.. see you around!” he smiled and started to quickly walk back in the direction he came from.

Fuck dude go the other way! She’ll think you’re stalking her, turn turn turn!

Suddenly he turned around and looked at you to see if you had noticed.

You had.

He laughed sheepishly and pointed in the other direction to which he was supposed to be heading, almost running.

You smiled back, giggling at him.

Dewey was high on life. He was literally grinning from ear to ear. Sure he wished he had said more but all he was focused on right now was your pretty face and how your nose scrunched a little bit when you giggled at him.

He was headed back tomorrow. But with a plan.

* * * * * *

The next day, avenue fifth, 1 o’clock, Dewey was there. And ready.

He, again, had ironed his shirt and fixed his hair. Just the way he liked it.

As he was walking towards your garden he could see you in the garden again, with your overalls on, and your pretty hair and face.

Dewey cleared his throat, preparing himself.

“uh, uh hey” he started, his voice cracking ever so lightly.

You looked up from your dandelions and daisies, noticing him. The same cute guy you had seen the past few days. The same cute guy you couldn’t take your mind off of.

“hey” you softly replied, waiting to see what todays encounter would bring.

Dewey came closer to the garden, and stood at the start of the path. “I-I know we don’t know each other…” he began. Twiddling his fingers in his hands as his head went down, looking at his feet, then back up to you.

You stood up, wiping your knees and overalls from the dirt on the ground, anticipating what he was going to say.

He stepped forward a little bit again when he noticed you had gotten to your feet. You could see how nervous he felt. His vibe radiated it.

“bu-but I was wondering if you could do me a favour?” he knitted his eyebrows, and his eyes searched your face.

You blushed lightly, putting one hand into the other one, nodding at him. “I can try my best” you smile afflictively.

Dewey took one more step forward so there was little space between you both, maybe a few feet.

He glanced around and gestured to your beautiful garden full of flowers. “well, I noticed how well kept and how beautiful your flowers were and my mom, she-she loves flowers… and I was wondering if, maybe.. you know… if you could maybe help me.. make her up a bouquet?”.

His eyes went down again, then shifted back up, waiting for your response. He felt silly. Like maybe this was a bad idea. She probably thinks I’m weird. I should leave-

His thoughts were cut off when you grinned at him.

He was so cute! You couldn’t believe this goofy, cute boy was here talking to you.

“of course! I’d love to help you with that!” you beamed.

Dewey’s face softened and a smile slowly came to his face, and his eyes lit up. “uh, really? Thank you so much” he bashfully graced you.

You nodded enthusiastically and smiled.

“what kinda flowers does your mom like?”

“well she uh..” just then Dewey noticed that you had a nose ring and his thoughts completely drifted. It was so cool.

“hey, I love your nose ring by the way!” he suddenly shifted the conversation.

It was your turn to smile bashfully at his words.

“thank you.. I uh, only recently got it… was unsure about it for so long but just decided ah fuck it, only here once right” you chuckled.

Dewey laughed with you, “your not wrong there, but its super cool you really suit! Totally rocking it” he beamed.

Her vibe is so pretty, Dewey thought to himself.

You scrunched up your nose when talking about your nose ring and Dewey was smitten. The boy honestly felt like he had fallen in love with you on the spot.

“so uh.. what kinda flowers does your mom-“

“hey listen, complete transparency here…”

Dewey cut you off and you knitted your eyebrows.

“I uh.. well the thing is, my mom actually doesn’t live here.. she lives up state.. miles and miles away” he confessed.

You continued to look at him confused.

“I uh, I actually just needed as excuse to come and talk to you.. I felt too, uh, embarrassed to just walk in and talk, to uh, you..” he rubbed the back of his neck, waiting on the rejection.

You just stood and folded your arms, kinda confused but also felt complimented. “so you.. don’t like my flowers?” you joked.

Dewey’s face went stiff and he started to babble “no I-I, uh I love your garden I really do! I think it’s beautiful and when I noticed you the other day I just couldn’t take my mind off of you because you were so pretty and…”

You started to laugh at how cute he was when he got anxious and worried.

“I’m just kidding you goof.. but thank you for all the compliments” you smiled sheepishly, looking down at your boots.

Dewey chilled out a bit and sighed a small relief.

“I just… I was just wondering if maybe you’d like to go grab some coffee? Sometime? Maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“I would love that, uh…” you trailed off

“Dewey!” he replied enthusiastically, “my names Dewey” he beamed.

tags: @thewolfisapartofmysoul @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 @geminiacally @go-commander-kim @gegehaddock @baby-beej @sadpuppetshows @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss @sheinassheina @demonwifey @beetle-herbs @bugdrinkss

#dewey finn #alex brightman #dewey finn x reader #school of rock #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #fluff #dewey

79 notes · View notes