#something for your kid that costs hundreds of pounds and then LETTING THEM GO TO SCHOOL WITH IT??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

biggest-stupidhead · 2 years

Note

Hey, lovely!! I love your writing! I've been trying to find someone who could write out this concept... I was wondering if you could write something where you're looking for something in you and Levi's room when you find the ring he's been keeping to propose to you eventually, but under the box there's a receipt (or whatever the equivalent for that would be for the 800's😭😭) which makes you super anxious and clingy because you're worried he'll return it if he doesn't want to marry you?? I feel like this makes no sense but anyway, Levi doesn't mind the clingy-ness for a few days, but then he starts getting worried and asks you what's wrong during dinner in the mess hall, and you finally break and tell him everything and hE STRAIGHT UP PROPOSES RIGHT THEN AND THERE WITH SHAKY HANDS AND VOICE OML I LOVE HIM. And Hange and Erwin are just sitting there astonished that he FINALLY did what he told them he'd do several years prior.

I hope you're having a great day, don't feel pressured to respond or write it!

AN: This was so cute I loved it! I normally am not a huge fan of marriage fics but this one was too sweet to pass up :)

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: PTSD, vivid flashbacks, anxiety, panic attack, lmk if I missed anything !

________

“If I were (Y/n) I’d have left you three years ago.” Hange mumbles as they balance a pen between their nose and upper lip. Levi feels his heart rate spike, his entire body goes rigid and he turns slowly to look at Hange.

“There hasn’t been much of an opportunity for a wedding as of late, with all of these missions,” Erwin says distractedly, his own pen scratching against the paper as he jots down formation adjustments.

“I mean it’s been years! I knew as soon as she stepped foot on this base that you two were going to get along well.” Hange’s pen clattered to the floor as they threw their arms up dramatically. Levi was glaring a hole in the side of their face, his own pen paused over his paperwork.

“It hasn’t been that long.” He grunted out the words through tight lips. Hange howled with laughter.

“It’s been five years Levi! Who knows how long we’ll live! Five years makes all the difference.” Hange bent down to collect their pen as they spoke, their words muffled as they ducked under the desk.

“It has been a long time.” Erwin agreed, not even sparing the two a glance. Levi felt his stomach twist and fold as he thought about you, was he doing wrong by you? The two of you had never discussed marriage before, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. But he could see himself living the rest of his life with you, even if that was only five more years.

___

Two years passed, and Hange was still pestering Levi about proposing to you. He had held fast, not sure if this was something that you wanted, but the badgering was starting to get to him. Plus the fact that now his squad was dead, and he had a gaggle of greenhorn teenagers to care for. There hadn’t been much time to discuss such trivial things. Levi knew that marriage was no small deal, but in comparison to the work the two of you did, it wasn’t a priority of his. Until he saw a couple in Trost, the man bent down in the center of the market and pulled out a modest ring. He paused, pulling back on the reins of his horse taking a moment to appreciate the love radiating off the pair.

He bought a ring that afternoon. It cost him all of the change he had on hand, roughly eight hundred coins. But he left with the small velvet box in his pocket, and he was pleasantly surprised at how light it felt. He had expected it to weigh a thousand pounds, but it felt feather-light. That had to mean something right? He rode back to base and was extra nice to the kids, they had been through so much as of late. The government had collapsed, and there were people outside of the walls plotting their demise. They did deserve a night off, so he let them stay up late, chatting in the common space. It was winter anyway, there wasn’t much work to do besides chopping kindling and keeping the castle clean.

He was regretting this now, as you were too busy enjoying the kids' company, doting on Connie in particular. You were pinching his rosy cheeks, he had just come back inside with an armful of kindling. Connie wasn’t complaining for once, he leaned into your warm hands, and Levi noticed that the kid looked the happiest he had been in months. Sasha was sneaking biscuits, Armin was flipping through Erwin’s old journals, Hange was in the corner with him, marking up the pages and making notes. Levi could never touch Erwin’s books, he would rather preserve the ink that the previous commander had left. But he commended Armin and Hange for their drive for knowledge.

Eren and Mikasa were doing their usual dance, fingertips brushing, knees knocking together occasionally. Jean was preoccupied with stopping Sasha from eating too much venison. Levi stepped into the room and the weight of that tiny box hit him like a truck. In this room were the last of his loved ones, he should want to share this moment with them. But he was too fearful of your response. Would you cry as that woman had earlier? Would he laugh and smile at the right time? Would the others lose respect for him if you said no? He sat down next to you, casually throwing his arm over your shoulders. He ignored the box in his pocket, he would come back to it in the morning. For now, he was here, with his favorite people in a warm clean home, surrounded by laughter.

______

You loved that Levi was a clean freak. Most of the time. Now was not that time, after you had agreed to move into his quarters with him years ago, he constantly moved your things. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but you were missing your favorite pen and his desk was a maze to you. You pulled out the bottom drawer, the one place that he allowed to be messy. Old sketches that he had commissioned from Moblit, your face, Hange’s, Erwin’s, Isabel, Farlan. Your fingertips grazed over the neatly stacked pages carefully, Kuchel, Kenny, a rough outline of Eren and the other cadets. Your fingers grazed something soft at the bottom of the drawer and you gently pulled the papers back. A tiny black box, curiosity killed the cat as they say. You opened it, it was foreign to you, new and exciting. A ring, not large or flashy, with a small diamond anchored onto a golden band. An engagement ring. You swallowed thickly before quickly shutting the box and placing everything back exactly as you had found it.

You would ask him where your pen was. You left his office with your heart racing, from excitement? It must be, there was no one else he could be giving that to. Was it his mother’s? No, she had no jewelry, maybe Erwin had left it to him. No, Erwin was a workaholic, his romance days were well behind him. It had to be for you, from him to you.

You didn’t see him until later that day, at dinner in the vacant mess hall. The kids were rowdy and he was agitated, you were anxious. Your knee wouldn’t stop bouncing, your heart had never beat so fast. He was sitting next to you, but he seemed to be too busy telling the kids to settle down to notice your distress. It was frustrating, you wanted him to comfort you, reassure you. But you also wanted space, time to sort your thoughts. Of course, you wanted to marry him, you want a life with him, with the kids, with Hange. You want to be happy, you were happy before he brought the ring into the picture.

Was he not happy with your relationship? What brought on the dramatic change? There was no discussion of marriage before? You stood up and walked briskly to the kitchen, where Hange was brewing the evening pot of tea.

“You’re pale darling, you aren’t pregnant are you?” They teased, spoon clinking on porcelain. You rushed to the sink and vomited. Hange recoiled and gasped, they loved to tease you about pregnancy. What if you were? When was your last period? This was too much. You slumped to the ground, chest heaving as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Hey, hey breathe” Hange sat beside you, rubbing comforting circles on your back as you tuck your head between your knees. You peeked up at them, but all you could see was their empty eye socket, Erwin’s body lifeless on the roof. Armin is nothing but a burnt corpse, Levi limp with dread and the biggest decision weighing down on him.

“I can’t.” You yelped, training your eyes on the floor again, the visions didn’t stop. Eren was screaming, so was Mikasa. Sasha was out cold, Historia was locked up in a tower, Connie was speechless, Jean was holding you back. You shrugged Hange off and turned around to throw up in the sink again.

“What’s happening?” Hange hissed, it wasn’t normal for you to break down so severely in front of your peers, even Levi had only seen you this way a few times before.

“I’m so scared Hange” You sobbed, leaning onto the sink your hair falling over your face and clouding your vision.

“Why? Are you actually pregnant?”

“I don’t know! I saw the ring, and I just…I want to be enough for him.” You whimpered as Hange scooped you into their arms, squeezing you tight. You focused on their heartbeat, the steady thump thump thump.

“What ring (Y/n)?” Hange spoke softly and you sniffled against their cotton shirt soaked in your tears.

“The ring in Levi’s drawer, I think he’s going to propose.” You craned your neck up and Hange beamed down at you, their eyes wide and filled with glee.

“The bastard finally grew a pair,” Hange said smugly and you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Explain.” You wiped the tears from your face and stepped back, they let you go, but not far. Their hand still held onto your bicep, keeping you close.

“Ever since you two began dating, Erwin and I put a fire under his ass about getting you a ring.” Hange winked and you sighed, somewhat relieved that it was for you, that he had thought about it to some degree.

“Now, are you pregnant?” Hange pressed and you shrugged.

“Who’s to say.” You sighed and smiled.

“I feel better now, thank you.”

“Don’t tell him that I told you!” They called after you and you waved back at them with a cheeky wink before slipping out of the kitchen.

_______

Two more weeks passed, the winter was harsh and you had been snowed in for a few days. The pipes were frozen, it was a constant fight over who went out for firewood. The stew was good, Hange had it down to a science. You weren’t as worked up, and you definitely weren’t pregnant. You could only wait for Levi to make his move now. The fire crackled and the conversation slowed as the night wore on. Armin and Hange had shared their findings in the notebooks, Sasha had made some of the best soup, and Jean was picking up where Moblit left off in his drawings. Levi was sitting close to you on the sofa, his thigh pressed against yours. You snuggled closer, pressing your nose into the column of his throat, he huffed in annoyance. He was ticklish.

“No that’s not how it went.” Connie insisted, Jean’s pencil scratched against the paper. Eren rolled his eyes and Mikasa smiled softly as Connie and Eren fought about a long-forgotten memory. Levi shifted bending at his waist and you frowned, following him before he pulled you to your feet. You didn’t want to go to bed yet, the kids were so sweet tonight, not too rowdy but still entertaining. The fire popped and all eyes turned to you as Levi sank down to the floor, his hand still in yours. Your heart skipped a beat, you heard Sasha gasp, and Connie and Eren stopped bickering. Jean’s pencil paused, Armin, inhaled sharply, and Mikasa’s eyes grew so soft.

“(Y/n),” Levi cleared his throat, calloused thumb brushing across your scarred knuckles.

“Y-Yes?” You squeaked out, squeezing his hand back with enthusiasm. You could feel them shaking, see his pulse racing through the veins in his neck.

“Will you do me the honor, of being my wife?” His voice shook on the first few syllables before an evening out into a low timbre. Your cheeks ached from smiling so hard as he pulled the ring from his breast pocket.

“Of course.” He slipped the ring on with shaky fingers and you fell to your knees, clutching him close. He buried his face into your hair as the other clapped and whistled. Hange screamed and Jean tore the paper off of his sketch pad. When you finally kissed him the chatter faded into the background, you only felt him, you would only ever feel him. When you ran out of air and broke apart, the others swarmed you. Warm hands on your back, strong arms around you, and laughter in your ear. This was your family, no ring would change that, it was just another symbol of your love for each other. Like how Moblit drew the people he loved, how Hange and Armin jot notes down in Erwin’s worn pages. How Sasha makes the best food for you all, Connie tells his best jokes, Eren never gives up, and Mikasa’s soft words and gestures of love. All of it was a love language between your little group. And you would share it forever.

#levi x reader #levi x reader insert #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #aot #levi fanfiction #levi aot #levi ackerman fluff #levi x reader fluff #fluff and feels #levi imagine #levi ask #answered asks #answered

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dower · 6 months

Text

Do you really want bespoke?

Say you want a new car: You choose it based on how it fits your need and wants. For needs, it might need 5 seats (kids/dogs), hatchback (weekly shopping), safety, low running cost (no one chooses high running cost, do they), cheap insurance, easy to fix, how green etc. At the “needs” level a basic Ford/Vauxhall/Nissan will probably do.

The £30k Ford will give you a choice of colour, a trim level, maybe a wheel option and Apple Carplay. Brill, simple and all that most folks would ever need in a car. But folks have wants as well and often as not a Ford is not on that “wants” list, they want the (perception of German) build quality, a premium interior, a lovely badge on the drive at home etc. So they pay 50% more to get a £50k BMW or Audi that is functionally very similar but meets some (probably not all) of the wants. With “wants” you’re often happy to compromise more on practicality or cost or usability - it’s easy to get carried away when it becomes a vanity purchase.

And, Bimmers and Audis are common as muck so maybe they’re not premium enough. They also look a bit staid and dull so let’s look at an Aston Martin or Porsche. Now we’re in the big leagues, it’s certainly rare (Porsche maybe not), available in dozens of colours, trims, wheel sizes, stereo outputs and has ridiculous performance you’ll never need, is far less practical than a £30k Ford but, well, it’s an Aston and makes you feel special and very different to all those German 3-box drivers. You still order the £150k Aston in black over black but who cares, there are only 1,000 the same as yours in the UK.

Except, being like 999 others maybe isn’t your ballgame, you’re special and different. So instead you go to Aston Works and bespoke trim your Aston with orange leather, carbon-fibre everywhere and a few other choice upgrades. It’s still an Aston Martin Vantage, but it’s now a one-off and costs £250k. It is still not bespoke though, 90% of it based on a standard production car, albeit a pricey one. But after a few years it just looks like a regular Aston, special but not special enough. The “shine” has gone, so has the value as it’s now non-standard no one really wants those. Some of the maintenance is also a bit pricey, did you really need that racing clutch, or that £6k carbon fibre front bumper that keeps getting scraped.

A truly bespoke car would require a visit to Pininfarina, Bertone, or more likely Zagato to get them to craft a body shape and interior to your exacting spec. You still need the underpinnings, the engine/gearbox etc so you could cut corners and use a cheaper base, maybe a Aston V12. You’d be mad to commission the one-off production of an engine, gearbox and running gear - that won’t be reliable and will cost an absolute mint as all the scales of production used for the last 100 years is thrown away to create your artisan car.

The end result is a bespoke £2m supercar that you can take to shops and carry the dogs in the back. It is unique. It also costs 20 times as much to service than the Ford and tens of thousands of pounds more to keep on the road every year. And it’s not allowed in London due to ULEZ. It’s probably not that reliable and not many garages will entertain looking after it. It’s become specialised to the point of being worth less.

People do buy exotic cars, but very few have them as their only car - they use something far more practical (and better) for everyday use, maybe even a Ford. Go back a hundred years and most high-end cars were bespoke, but standardisation, reliability, resale, maintenance, and usability has made these cars functionally extinct.

Are you sure you want bespoke? Ok … then don’t buy the design of a bloke in a shed in Lancashire. Do it properly and accept you’ll be burning money on a vanity project. But mostly, just buy something nice off the shelf - I hear the new Lotus is a bit special!

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

“Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders.

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it.

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #lu wild #it's a bit longer than the other one shots #and yet i think it's the most uneventful #let me know what you guys think #linked universe

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etoileholland · 3 years

Text

Yours truly

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: a letter box shaped bag prompts Tom to tell you just how much you mean to him

Warnings: none; it’s just my usual fluff :)

A/N: surprise, I’m back! It’s been a very long time since I’ve written something, and although the break was nice, I missed you all :( and since I don’t really know who to tag, I’m going to tag my old taglist + mutuals, but if you want to be added to my taglist please let me know!

While you and Tom were out spending the day going window shopping, you passed by the front window of a Kate Spade boutique, and a blur of red made you turn your head to see what was in the window. What you saw was so beautiful, it made you stop suddenly in your tracks.

Tom, who was holding your hand, was not expecting you to stop so suddenly. “Babe, you’re going to pull my arm out of its socket.” He joked, and was expecting you to reply, but instead you were silent. When he turned to see what you were looking at, your hand was pressed to the glass of the display, eyes wide and lips agape. A smile erupted on his lips as he watched how mesmerized you were by a handbag, and how awestruck you were by it.

It was as if you were a kid in a candy store, or maybe it was more like love at first sight. In fact, the way you were looking at the bag is the same way that he looks at you—full of love and adoration.

He knew he had to surprise you with it.

As he stood there with you, your gaze still fixed to the bag, he waited a minute longer until he decided to speak up. “It is a beautiful bag, huh?” At first you didn’t respond, nor did you show any sign of even hearing what he had said. “C’mon,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze and pulling you towards the entrance. “Let’s go take a look at it.”

That sentence snapped you out of your trance, and without skipping a beat, you stopped walking and stood in place. “Oh no, no, no, let’s not do that.” Your voice got a little louder with every no. “I don’t want to be disappointed by how expensive it is. It must cost at least £200 pounds.”

“I doubt-”

“It’s a Kate Spade,” you interrupted, “her bags are ridiculously expensive.” As you spoke, you continuously shook your head no. “I know it’s far too expensive, and I don’t want to be disappointed when I see the exorbitant price tag.” Your eyes became fixed to the pavement, and your eyebrows furrowed downwards, as well as your lips turning into a small frown. “Can we please leave?”

It pained Tom to see you so sad, especially since he could easily buy you the bag—hell, he could buy you a hundred of them, or even purchase everything in the store for you. It was no problem to him, but he knew that him buying you things made you feel uncomfortable, so he decided not to press the issue any further.

“Okay love, let’s go.” He took a step forward, but instead of following him, you stood there still, staring at the bag. A few seconds passed before you slowly took a step forward, and then walked with Tom away from the window display.

“Maybe one day I’ll see it in a consignment shop, and then I’ll be able to afford it.” You uttered under your breath, but it was just loud enough for Tom to hear it.

A week had passed, and Tom didn’t once stop thinking about the bag, and how much you pined over it. Just the night before, he had a dream where he was in his Spider-Man costume, and had broken into the store to get it for you. Of course, he wasn’t going to do that, but it was all he could think about, even in his dreams.

He knew he had to get it for you, because even though you tried to say you were okay without it, he knew it would make you beyond happy if you had it. Yet, he was aware that he couldn’t get it when you were with him, which seemed to be most of the time. He cherished spending time with you, but he just needed some time alone so he could get it.

While he was thinking of a plan, the opportunity arose on its own, no planning on his end needed.

“Your mum wants me to go shopping with her tomorrow to buy a gift for Paddy.” You announced as you walked into the room, and leaned against the door frame.

“Wait, she wants you to go with her, and not me?” He asked, hoping to feign some sadness, even though he was secretly relieved. He loved his mum, but shopping with her could easily become extremely stressful.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, “I thought the same thing, but apparently she wants me to go with her. She said something about me being a ‘more attentive shopper’.” You said with air quotes, and a slight frown on your face.

Tom, who was sprawled out in his bed, positioned himself so that he could tilt his head up to see you. “Well, that’s odd. I can see she’s playing favourites.” He remarked, trying to not sound too relieved.

“That’s okay with you, right?” You questioned, eyes wide.

“Of course love, just don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I won’t, but let me just text her back and tell her that’s okay.” You bounded out of the room quickly, and when you left, he let out a small squeal. His plan was falling into place, and it seemed that the universe was on his side. He took a minute to think about his schedule tomorrow, and luckily he had the day off.

He was bound and determined to get the bag for you.

—

Almost immediately after you left the house to go shopping with his mum, Tom bolted out of the house and ran out to his car, quickly and messily trying to unlock the car door. When he situated himself inside the car, he pulled out of the driveway to head towards the Kate Spade boutique.

The way he was driving was downright terrible, and borderline reckless, but all he could think about was getting the bag for you. On his drive there, the thought of accidentally running into you crossed his mind, but he shook the thought away.

About twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking garage, stopped the car, got out and locked it. He hurried up towards the entrance of the store, and rushed inside, tunnel vision consuming him. As he looked around frantically looking for the bag, he couldn’t seem to see it, but before he could have a chance to inquire about it, a store clerk came up to him.

“May I help you with something?” The assistant inquired, snapping Tom out of his tunnel vision.

“Actually, yes. My girlfriend saw a small purse in the window display last week, and I was wondering if you still happen to have it.”

“By any chance, did it look like a little post box with a letter inside?” She asked with a slightly sad grin, one that caught Tom’s attention.

“Um yes, precisely. Do you still have any?”

Judging by the assistant’s look, he already knew the answer—he was too late. “I’m so sorry, but there was only one left, and that kind woman at the register is about to purchase the last one.” She stated with sad eyes, and it took everything in Tom to not be equally as upset. “They sold so quickly that we had to request a few more shipments, but there were no more left to order yesterday.”

He looked over to see who the woman who was purchasing the last handbag was, and the woman looked back at him with apologetic eyes. It was a woman about the age of 80, and was a very spiffy dresser at that.

“Love, I am so sorry that I’m buying the last one, but I too have had my eye on it for quite a while.” She spoke just loud enough for Tom to hear her from the other side of the boutique, but just quiet enough for him to walk over closer to where she stood at the register. “Do you mind me asking why you wanted this bag? By the way you ran in here, it seemed like it was clearly an important thing to buy.”

“It was.” Tom answered back as he took a second to think about what he wanted to say. He felt so dejected that there weren’t any words to describe his situation, even though it was a very easy situation to understand. “Last week, I was window shopping with my girlfriend, and she saw this bag and immediately stopped in her tracks. She spent 10 minutes staring at it, or at least it felt that long.” He walked over closer to where the register was and leaned one arm against the counter. “She was so awe struck by it, but at the time she couldn’t afford it, and she refused to allow me to buy it.”

“That’s the mark of a remarkable young woman, you know. Most women would expect her man to buy her what she wanted, but the fact that she didn’t want to buy it really says a lot.” She carefully placed her hand on top of Tom’s in a reassuring way. “Cherish her forever.”

Tom’s vision became a bit blurry as he blinked away tears that were trying to form in his eyes. “I will, I promise.” He lightly sighed, allowing himself to take a second to think. “Although it’s a pretty new relationship, so I hope it works out.” His watery eyes cleared up, and he took one more audible breath. Just then, the kind woman gently placed her hand on top of his, and gave it a gentle pat. When he looked up at her, she was giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Trust me, love. I’ve been around long enough to know if a relationship will work out or not. I thought the same when I met my now husband when he and I were both 17. I was so worried thinking that it may not work out, but he had the faith to know that it would. And he was right, he usually always is, but I try not to tell him too much so that it doesn’t go to his head.” She laughed lightly, and Tom did as well. “All it takes is love, patience and perseverance. That’s the key to a lasting relationship.”

The assistant was moved by the woman’s touching story, and wiped away a tear off her cheek. The woman looked at her and smiled tearfully too. “How new is your relationship?” She asked.

“It’s felt like ages, but in a good way.” Tom answered with a smile forming on his lips. “But in all actuality, it’s been almost three months, but we met a month prior to dating.”

“So that is pretty new.” The kind old woman answered. “What do you love most about her?”

Love, Tom thought. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t think about all the things he loves about you, but to be honest, he hasn’t told you he loved you yet. He hasn’t wanted to rush anything, even though he’s sure he loves you. The idea of telling you that has scared him, because it always seems that when he tells someone he loves them, they disappear from his life forever, just like his previous relationships before. “Well, she’s so patient with me, and beyond understanding of my hectic life.”

“Go on,” the kind woman prodded, already knowing that he hadn’t told you he loved you yet, but wanting to help coax the feelings out of him.

“I have a stressful job, to put it lightly, and not once has she made me feel bad about having to reschedule a date. She’s also ridiculously intelligent, caring, and beautiful, and I wouldn’t know what to do without her, nor would I want to think about that.”

“Well, I can tell that you love her,” she answered, “and I hope I’m not prodding too much, but may I ask why you haven’t told her yet?”

Tom took a second to compose himself. “I’ve wanted to, but I didn’t want to rush anything. I don’t know if this is going to sound dumb, but I wanted to write her a letter telling her how I feel, and I was going to stick the letter into the letter box, which is super dumb I know but-”

“That’s not.” The woman choked out, dabbing at her eyes where they were starting to well up with tears. “That’s one of the sweetest things I have ever heard, and I am beyond happy to know that the younger generations are still just as sweet and chivalrous as the past ones were. At the time when I was dating my husband, he also wrote me a letter telling me he loved me as he went to fight in the war.” She took out a handkerchief from her coat pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again, but luckily he came home safely.”

“I’m happy he did.” Tom responded with tears in his eyes as well. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“You’re welcome.” She wiped her eyes once more, and motioned for the assistant, who was in the back of the store, to come over to where she and Tom were standing. “Letters are a great way to tell someone something, and I’m glad they haven’t died off with the younger generation.” The assistant came over to the woman, and looked to see what she may need.

“Can I please return this bag back to the store so that this young man can buy it instead?” The assistant hesitantly reached her arm out to take the bag, wanting to make sure that the woman really wanted to do so.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you.” Tom responded hesitantly, his voice upturning at the end of the sentence.

The woman waved her hand in front of Tom. “I’m positively sure. This will be the item that will make you cherish your relationship forever, and will even be your lucky charm.”

As the assistant returned the bag back to the store, Tom quickly reached out his arms and gave the woman a quick hug. “Thank you so much, I can’t thank you enough.” When he pulled away, she placed her hand on his forearm.

“You’re very welcome, and I wish you two a long and beautiful relationship.”

“Thank you again.” He responded quickly, and then a wave of realisation washed over him. “I just realised that I didn’t get your name, how awful of me.”

“Beth.” She answered, “and I already know your name, Mr. Tom Holland.” A look of confusion washed over Tom’s face, and before he could ask how she knew his name, she answered, “My granddaughter is a huge fan. I’ve seen all the Spider-Man movies with her in the cinema, and I must admit that you are a wonderful actor.”

Tom grinned his million dollar smile, and began to blush. “Why thank you Beth, I truly appreciate everything.”

The assistant rung up the bag for Tom, and after he paid for it, she wrapped it up nicely and put it in a colourful bag.

“Good luck with everything Mr. Holland, and when you and this girl get married, you better invite me to your wedding.” She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. “I mean it, you know. I better be there for the wedding.” As she said this, she wrote her name, address and phone number on it. “Promise me I’ll be the first person you call after you pop the question to her?” She slid the paper over to Tom and watched as he read it once before folding it nicely and placing it carefully in his wallet. “I promise I will Beth, I swear on it.”

—

Tom knew what he had to do, or rather, what to say. After his conversation with Beth in the boutique, it seemed as though the words were spilling out of his mouth, and the letter was practically writing itself in his mind. All he had to do now was actually buy something to write on.

He thought about buying some cute stationary to match the aesthetic of the bag, but he knew that the words were so loud in his head, that by the time that it would take for him to buy stationary, the words would be gone.

Jogging back out to his car, he began to rummage through the glove compartment in hopes of finding something, anything to write on.

The only acceptable piece of paper was actually a flyer from a chippy, and the only pencil he could find was a tiny one that’s used to keep the score in golf, but it’ll have to do. The words suddenly came to him, and he scribbled them down so he wouldn’t forget.

A fair amount of time must have passed, because it was now beginning to rain outside. The pattering of the light raindrops that were hitting the roof of the car made the small space feel more comfortable, and added the perfect amount of ambiance to continue writing. In fact, tear stains had made their way onto the paper, which surprised Tom, considering that he didn't even know he was crying. The emotions must’ve got the best of him, but he didn’t mind one bit.

At least now he had a physical reminder of how much he loved you.

Wiping the tears off his face, he took a sigh of relief. Writing that somehow felt liberating, and made him almost want to jump out of the car and start dancing in the rain. He felt on top of the world.

As he drove away from his parking spot, about a block and a half later, he looked up to see a stationary store and parked the car in front of the store, and ran inside.

—

Half an hour later, he made it back home, bag and letter in hand. You were still out with his mum, which to be honest wasn’t shocking. I bet she’ll get home well past midnight, knowing my mum, he thought.

Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison went out to go golfing, so Tom had the whole house to himself. He plopped down on the sofa and pulled out the new stationary and pens that he bought specifically for this.

While at the shop, he found a set of letters that looked almost identical to the letter keychain on the purse, and picked out a black pen. He carefully wrote the new letter with penmanship so precise, it made him feel as though he was back in primary school.

About twenty minutes had passed, but the letter was finally done. He had embellished the envelope by adding a couple hearts in different colours, and then carefully slipping the letter inside. Lastly, he wrote your name in cursive on the envelope, and then placed the completed letter inside the bag, right where the letter compartment was.

After neatly reassembling the bag back in its original wrapping, Tom placed the bag inside his closet and thought of a good time to give it to you. The best time, he thought, was to give it to you next week, right before he was set to fly back to Atlanta to finish filming.

—

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” You whined, which was slightly muffled by Tom’s pillows. Tom was sprawled out on the floor, stuffing different articles of clothing into his luggage.

“I wish I didn’t either darling.” He sighed, “but I promise I’ll be home before you know it.” He answered, knowing that he wasn’t entirely telling the truth. He would be gone for at least 3 months, which was going to feel like an eternity. The thought alone made him almost start crying, but he was trying to stay strong for you. He also couldn’t help thinking that you would leave him, since all of his past girlfriends left him due to the distance. It was just a matter of time before you did the same, but he tried not to dwell on that nagging thought. He knew you were patient, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

“Maybe I could come visit you, you know, when I have a chance?” You asked hesitantly, knowing full well that you were busy with work and school.

“I wish you could, but we both know that isn’t plausible right now.” It sounded harsher than he had intended to be, and he mentally grimaced. You, however, knew he was right. He had told you before that he doesn’t want you to sideline your own life because of his.

“I know.” You answered dejectedly, “but if and when I have a break, I’ll come out to see you.”

Tom finished folding his clothes, and stood up. Without saying a word, he looked over at you and noticed that your face was squeezed against his pillow, your eyes closed. And so; he went to his closet and moved the sheets that were covering your present. In one motion, he grabbed the bag and turned on his heels, and made his way back to his bed.

Without you noticing, he sat down and placed the bag in front of you, and poked your shoulder until you looked up at him.

“Hmm?” You inquired. Instead of responding, Tom scooted the bag closer to you, while sitting down on the corner of his bed. “What is it?”

“Sit up.” He instructed, and as you did so, you saw a gift bag placed in front of you. “Open it please.” He insisted, watching intently as you began to take the tissue paper out of the gift bag.

“Tom, this isn’t what I think it is, right?” You trailed off, and while Tom didn’t give you a verbal answer, it was written all over his face.

“The suspense is killing me,” he pleaded, “please open the bag.”

You did as you were told, and gasped when you pulled the purse out of the gift bag. It was even prettier in person, and somehow more breathtaking.

“Babe, I, what?” You choked out, unable to say anymore. A part of you was so happy that he gifted you with this, but another part of you knew how expensive the bag was.

“Now before you get mad, I know you said you didn’t want me to buy it for you, but I just knew that you wanted it, so I just had to treat you.” He stammered out, “please don’t hate me.”

Overcome with emotion, you threw your arms around Tom’s neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap. “I love it.” You whispered into his neck, and placed a kiss on his neck.

“Promise me you’ll keep it?” He asked, “I need you to promise me you won’t try to return it.”

“I promise I won’t. I’ll cherish it forever.”

—

Tom left the house at 2am, and was headed towards the airport. Leaving you was the hardest thing that he’s ever had to do, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

As you laid in his bed, bundled up in his sweatshirt, you clutched the bag to your chest. It was such a thoughtful gesture for him to buy it for you, but a piece of you did feel guilty that he spent the money on you.

The words he told you not to return the bag echoed in your head, and even though he made you swear not to do so, it did cross your mind. So, you thought, the only way you would be less tempted to return it is if you emptied out your old bag and put your belongings in that one instead. It took you a few minutes to do so, but now seeing your things in there made it feel more like yours.

Doing so tired you out, as it was now almost 3am. Clutching the bag as you settled into bed, you drifted off soundly, mentally preparing for your day tomorrow.

—

Waking up without Tom felt so strange, not having him there next to you. You checked your phone and saw a text from him, saying he loved you and landed safely, complete with a ton of heart emojis. It put a smile on your face, and quickly you typed back that you loved him more, and wished him luck on his day ahead.

About an hour later, you were off to your 9am philosophy class, one that you typically dreaded going to. Sometimes it was a heavy class to start the day off, especially when the coursework focused on the depressing aspects of life and hardship. It was a class that you always hoped to skip, but Tom always made sure you didn’t skip, no matter how badly you wanted to.

As you walked up to the door, you began to slow down. Was it worth going to class, knowing that you’re already pretty bummed out because Tom is away?

When the thought crossed your mind, you could hear Tom’s voice in your head convincing you to go. So, you drudged your way to the door and pulled the handle.

You walked to your seat and slumped into your chair, and placed your new bag on the empty seat next to you. When you went to grab your notebook and pencil, you looked up to see your friend Ella sitting in front of you, body turned to see you.

“Ooh, cute bag!” She exclaimed, eyes bright and cheerful.

“Thank you,” you answered, “it was a gift.” Your tone was a bit more curt than you had expected it to be, but you didn’t have enough energy to try to sound happier.

“Wow, I wish someone would gift me a present that nice.” Ella responded.

The girl sitting next to Ella, one that you didn’t personally know, turned around to see your bag.

“My sister has that same bag, and she loves it. It even has a secret compartment inside the letter keychain.” When she said that, your brows furrowed.

“Hmm, really? I didn’t know that.” You reached for your bag and placed it on your lap. When you pulled out the letter compartment, you noticed that, indeed, there was a hidden zipper. You slowly opened the zipper, and saw that there was an envelope inside. “Well that’s odd, there’s a letter inside, I didn’t know it came with one.” When you took a closer look, you saw that your name was written there, in what looked like Tom’s handwriting.

“It didn’t,” the girl replied, “or at least, it wasn’t supposed to.”

Ella gasped dramatically, “Maybe it’s from the person who gave you the gift—you should read it.”

Luckily, you didn’t have to tell her no, because at that moment, the professor began to start his lecture. You zipped the zipper shut and placed the bag next to you, although you noticed your heart was racing. The thought of Tom writing you a letter made you feel giddy, and in a way, saddening. It made you realise that he wasn’t here with you, but instead thousands of miles away. The class went by ridiculously slowly, but when the professor wrapped up his lecture, you bolted out the door. You sped walk to the nearest bench underneath a pine tree, and hurriedly sat down, reaching for the letter.

He had placed the envelope in there neatly, and even wrote your name in cursive. There were little hearts drawn all over the envelope, even going as far as addressing it from Atlanta, as if he really sent it through the post to you.

The attention to detail already made tears fall onto your cheeks, knowing that Tom really went out of his way to write you a letter. Carefully, you pulled the letter out of the envelope, straightening it a bit before reading it.

My eternal love,

I’m glad you found this letter, sealed and ready for you to read it. I had thought about giving it to you before I left, but I hope this makes it even more special.

When I went to get the bag for you, I had a long conversation with a woman who reminded me how important love is, and how I shouldn’t take it for granted. And, after talking to her, she knew that we had the kind of love that will last a thousand years, and span a million lifetimes.

I now just realised that of course, our relationship is still relatively new, but she just knew that what we have is special; and well, I hope so too.

All my thoughts are consumed by you and you alone; about how happy you make me feel, how safe and secure I feel in your arms, and with you, I feel that anything is possible. The world seems kinder and nicer with you in it, and I feel a sense of divine happiness that I’ve never felt before when we’re together.

I haven’t said this to you yet, or at least not out loud, but I love you. I really, truly, love you. I’ve never been more sure of anything, but this I know indefinitely.

I love all of the little things about you-how you are incredibly patient, loving, and caring. I love when you run your fingers through my hair after a long day, calming me down instantly. I love how you give me your million dollar smile when I kiss you on the cheek, and how you make me feel calm and safe in my extremely hectic life.

All I know is that I love you, through and through, and I hope you feel the same way too.

Forever yours- no matter how far away I am from you,

Tom x

By now, you could hardly read through the tears. You had no idea he was so poetic, and how open he was being with you right now, and the image of him writing this heartfelt letter brought happy tears to your eyes. He loved you so immensely, and it was so comforting to have him say it.

As you wiped the tears with the sleeve of your sweater, you knew you had to tell him you loved him back. And so, you opened up your text messages, found your guys conversation, and voice messaged back,

“I love you more.”

——

mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @sinisterspidey @cali-holland @duskholland @yourstrulyamour @determined-overthinker

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland and reader #tom holland and y/n #tom holland and you #tom holland one shots #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #mine

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violets-page · 3 years

Text

Shot down Pt.3

Allie takes over your mind and all Raven can do is watch, feeling helpless.

TW: self-harm (kinda extreme)

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Masterlist

You relied often on the extension of crutches to be mobile. However, things that worked on the ark were not always as great on the ground.

Things like executions, lunch, and crutches, were all much better on the ark. All involved much less suffering. The bumpy terrain and muddy roads made you slip often. Walking made you anxious, afraid that at any moment your legs would give up and you would plummet to the soil. Stuck there until someone become willing to help. Needless to say, you avoided it at all costs. Or at least avoid walking alone.

Today was one of those days where you were forced to. Raven was working on some sort of electric fence around the camp and had begrudgingly left your side after you begged her to. You knew that being cramped inside all day with nothing to work on was worse than hell for her. It had rained earlier and the ground was a cesspool of piss and mud. Falling into it was ill-advised.

You were immensely grateful for the returning strength to your arms and spent many hours working out. Pull-ups were your preference. Without them hobbling along would have been much harder. Raven often commented on them with a smile and a laugh, it always made you blush.

The jagged metal of the crutches sank deep within the soil each time you set them down. It took forever for you to get more than a few feet from your tent, but by that time you had already grown too tired.

You practically fell onto a stray box before hurling the crutches into the mud next to you. You felt your foot twitch. Abby had stated this was a good sign of recovery but to you, it just felt like a painful reminder of your limits.

Your head fell forward as your palms dug into your eyes, holding back the tears like a damn.

The chip in your pocket felt like a hundred pounds as you pulled it out

* * * * * * * *

When Jaha gave you the chip he had seemed so sure of himself, so convinced that these people would be happy. Hell, the man fell from space in a death capsule, was stranded in the desert, almost died, and somehow, and he looked happier than anyone else on this damned planet.

You had run out of other options. The worst that could happen? It turned out to be a piece of plastic and you were left with the unsatisfying taste of dirt.

You held it against your lips toying with the idea, you had run out of time, out of patience, out of hope.

Raven had slowly gotten over her guilt (all thanks to you) and due to your inability to travel more than 30 feet without screaming, you barely saw her. Abby was the only one who checked in regularly and most likely because you spent most of your time in her makeshift waiting room.

Waiting.

You were always waiting. Waiting for your friends to return, waiting for your leg to heal, waiting for love.

Before you could stop yourself you let the chip slide onto your tongue. It dissolved quickly at tasted faintly like salt and dough.

You sat there, waiting for euphoria, waiting for...something.

The kids on the ark sometimes smoked herbs. You thought it would feel like that, the world fading around you as bright colors floated around and everything else just ceased to matter.

Instead, you wiped tears from your eyes all the while cursing Thelonious. You grabbed your crutches, the walk back would take your remaining energy, but better than then be stuck in the oncoming rain.

You felt your annoyance growing with each step as the crutches creaked irritated by your weight on them. You couldn’t take it anymore, the anger came crashing like waves. You slammed the crutches in the mud with a scream. You hated them. They poked you in the arm, they were too tall and made your shoulders ache, they sunk into the ground and were too nosy.

you stood in front of the crutches before raising your leg to stomp on them.

You took your anger out, everything that was wrong with the world you suddenly blamed the crutches for.

“Stupid mother fu-”

Your stomps slowed to a steady pat before halting completely. You were moving, standing. Without the aid of crutches. You took a few more steps, and a few more, and some more. Until your eyes were met with a pristine pair of black heels.

Your eyes trailed up the ivory-toned legs and over the tight red dress of a figure, you'd never seen before. You stared at her in confusion.

“Hello y/n”

* * * * * * * *

Raven hadn’t realized what was happening till it was too late.

You fought against the hold on Clarke and Bellamy in a fit of screams. The forest looked the same to you no matter where you were and your eyes hungrily searched for anything you could recognize

You heard the familiar faint whispers of Raven’s ‘I’m sorry’ before a needle was plunged into your neck and everything went dark.

* * * * * * * *

The drive to the grounder camp felt long and hopeless to Raven. She spent the drive running her hand through your hair hoping part of your unconscious mind would recognize her touch and be soothed by it.

She watched as Clarke and Bellamy hopped out of the truck to reason with the vicious-looking grounder. Her Breath hitched waiting and hoping they would be able to reason with her. She couldn't bear to lose you.

You were all she had.

She felt you shift in her arms, your eyebrows furrowed and she could see your eyes flutter but remain close. For a second she forgot the situation, a gentle smile down at your waking form. Then reality came crashing.

“Hurry she's waking up!”

You felt the fabric of a blindfold as rough hands shoved it down before you could even open your eyes.

Hands were on your body, their touch felt familiar but not enough that you could place the figure. The blindfold cocooned your ears and amplified the sound of your breathing so that Clarke’s voice was a dull mumble.

You felt your body being released from your arms as your back sunk it to something soft and shiny. You immediately started trying to get free. Attempting to rip the blindfold off, you felt your hands and feet grabbed by multiple sets of limbs. Restraints were bound sloppily but tightly around your wrists, with the addition of the blindfold and multiple pairs of hands trying to hold you down you weren't making much, if any progress.

The smartest thing to do was to obliviate one of these obstacles. You choose the easiest one. Your hands clawed at your face, you could faintly feel your skin under your nails as you ripped at it before your fingers were finally able to latch onto the blindfold, yanking it down and around your neck.

Alie’s familiar red dress stood out strongly against the dull tones of the unfamiliar room. The group stood in tense anticipation as you snapped your head around, trying to recognize the room. You knew it wasn't part of the ark, it was too dirty and earth-like. The fur rug made you think Trikru but where you had no idea. When your mind drew a blank Alie grew frustrated. Or at least, her version of frustrated.

“We need to know where you are.”

Your thrashing resumed this time tenfold.

“WHERE AM I. WHERE AM I.”

They struggled to hold you down as you fought past your physical capabilities to escape. They all had a grip on a limb making movement nearly impossible. Injuries, even if you couldn’t feel them, weakened you.

You turned to the closest person, who happened to be Raven, and sunk your teeth into the flesh of her wrists. It was shallow, she yanked her hand back before you could go deeper. Her pain barely registered in your mind, her tears didn’t tug at your heart like you knew they should have.

Instead, you seized the opportunity to reach over and punch Jasper square in the nose. His hold loosed but by then Raven had latched back on, the blood from her wrists trickled slowly down onto your exposed skin. With each failed attempt at escaping struggling grew harder.

Clarke and Bellamy had been quick to grab a spare rope, using it to bound your hands and feet to the posts of the strange bed. You screamed in frustration as Alie stared at you. She showed no emotion, just the same semi-pleasant stare she always held.

“LET ME GO.”

You knew the awful things Alie could do and you were no stranger to them. The scream was a mix of terror and anger. You tossed your body up and down hoping to break the posts, the bed, something to set you free.

“LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO.” Your voice grew more strained with every word. If you could feel pain your throat would probably ache immensely.

The group stepped back after thoroughly double-checking the knots. The sheer look of horror was displayed across all of their faces and it vexed you deeply

Didn't they know you were doing this for them? For her?

* * * * * * * *

Raven stood in the other room, watching you made her feel sick to her stomach. Not that listening to your screams from a different room made it any better. She could hear the creaking of the bed and pained screams throughout the entire house. So she stood, waiting anxiously with Clarke for their next move.

Her nails had been chewed to the beds and she knew that if- when you came to, you would scold her till her ears bleed.

Clarke said she knew where to get a wristband and Sinclair knew how to alter it to suit their needs. But Raven grew nervous with the time it was taking for either of them to follow through on these promises.

She glanced to where Clarke was talking to the grounder and felt her muscles tense when the girl gave Clarke an angry glare. Whatever Clarke was trying to achieve, she was doing a horrible job of it.

By now all of her nails had been chomped town to raw skin so she switched to pacing. Back and forth, back and forth trying to drown out your ever-fainting screams.

Raven let an audible sound of relief when Clarke set the wristband on the table. It had been a silent mutual agreement that Sinclair would be the one to work on the wristbands.

One part because He knew them best and the other because Raven couldn’t keep her fingers from trembling long enough to do the necessary machine work.

“So how do we do this?” Clarke seemed the calmest of them all. Losing Lexa had numbed her in a way.

“If we can turn it into an EMP we can use it to fry the bitch out of her head. The electromagnetic pulse would destroy the critics. You just need to reverse the polarity and...”

Raven droned on in her explanation, faintly aware of how quiet the neighboring room had grown.

“We don’t know what the chip embedded in her brain is like, it could cause a bad outcome”

“Worse than this?” Her question was met with a defeating silence. Not that she expected anyone would answer. She wasn’t feeling too strongly about the plan either but she couldn't watch you slowly break apart, her lover disappearing with every day until all that's left would be a hollow shell. She tried to reassure herself that it was what you would want.

The group continued to talk, working up a solution until they had a solid plan mapped out. Monty and Octavia had fled to the dropship to gather the necessary parts while everyone else had stayed behind.

She made her way back into the room to watch you.

Maybe for a moment, she could envision you back to normal, pretending that she was simply watching you blissfully relax.

* * * * * * * *

Raven stood in the corner of the room. Her posture was rigid and he hands crossed over her chest relaying defensive positioning.

Not that you even cared. You surveyed your bound wrists with a bored expression. Her eyes fluttered between you and the floor constantly. The floor was basic dirt and about as interesting as well... dirt. Meaning that she was avoiding your eyes.

You rolled your wrists thoughtfully considering a slip-out process, you knew how Raven worked, how she thought, her weak spots. You could take her easily. You tugged at the right wrist restarting trying desperately to wrench your wrist free.

Alie watched you robotically her red dress unnatural in the atmosphere.

“With marginally more slack, you could reach those knots.”

The idea hadn’t occurred to you before. without pain inhabilitating you, you’d be able to dislocate your shoulder, properly creating more slack.

You twisted, you could feel the muscles in your arm pulling taut as you put out exasperated grunts. Raven’s eyes snapped to yours, her worry clouding her fear.

“Y/N, please...”

When you made no effort to stop she took note of your clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

“What- what are you doing?”

Her voice no longer had any effect on you. Your heart didn’t ache when you saw the pain in her eyes, you didn’t feel the need to comfort her when you could sense her anxiety. You were trying to help her, get her to take the chip so that you could be happy together so that her pain could end. But until she did, she was just a pest in your mission.

You kept tugging, you could feel your muscles grow stressed as you got closer to your goal. The grinding of your bones scrapped your ears as your arm popped out of its socket.

Raven stood frozen in shock. The fear on her face was evident but she was too startled to have a reasonable reaction.

“There is no pain here Ray, you could be free.”

Maybe it was the nickname rolling off your tongue, it’s lack of love or familiarity, or maybe she saw you trying to chew off the restraints, but she finally snapped out of it.

“STOP IT! GUYS.”

The blood has started to run back down your arm. Somehow in forgetting pain you also forgot about death. Raven didn’t know what to do, how to stop you, and stop the bleeding all at once.

Her heart was pounding out of her chest as images of your still body lying in a pool of blood clouded her thoughts.

“Oh god.”

She reached for your head, her calloused fingers against your cheeks as she tried to turn your head away from her wrists. You snapped at her, your teeth clenching around the air, but it was enough to get her to let go. The memory of your teeth in her skin and the stinging of her wrist were a painful reminder of how far you would go.

Clarke came in as you resumed chewing on the restraints. So close...

Before you could get them Bellamy and Raven had yanked you away. Enforcing your body in its position with more rope.

Clarke shouted at you to stop but you drowned her out, straining your neck in a futile attempt to reach the restraints.

“Alie.”

Your head snapped to Jasper’s as the familiar probing sensation in your brain occurred. Everything went dark, when you came back to it, Alie was staring at you. The slightest traces of distaste etched across her red lips.

“Let them help you”

You froze, staring straight ahead. For a moment everyone else did too. Probably expecting you to lash out again and bite one of them. When you didn’t Raven quickly took to untying your wrists.

You watched her with faint interest. You couldn’t remember why you wanted to save her but you knew you did, somewhere deep down. Your eyes traveled down her arms. Her fingers were latched tightly around your arm. The teeth marks were barely visible, caked under her dried blood. Or maybe that was yours. You felt something in you ache, you can’t feel pain but this feeling... felt painful?

You pondered upon its appearance as Clarke used her foot to relocate your shoulder.

You didn’t even flinch.

* * * * * * * *

Raven had volunteered to stay with you. God knows why, you had hurt her enough. You rolled her eyes when she did, not that anyone noticed.

She sat at the end of the bed. you didn’t really mind, not that you could even do anything if you did.

You looked her up and down.

“Do you still cry?” It wasn’t really a question, you knew the answer. You just wanted to hear her say it.

Her eyes shot up to yours. Her hands tensed in her lap and you momentarily took note of her bloody nails.

“What”

“You used to cry over my leg. Why did you stop?”

She opened her mouth but then shut it not knowing how to answer, or who was even talking to her.

“If I’m being honest I think it was quite selfish of you. I’m the one with the fucked up leg and yet, I was the one comforting you about it.”

Her expression hardened but the tears in her eyes stayed. your stomach ached again but you ignored it.

“Get out of her head Alie”

You smiled at her, a nice teethy one, completely catching her off guard.

“It’s not Alie. It’s me Raven, your- your.” but your mind drew a blank. How did you know Raven? You couldn’t remember and it made you mad.

“You're the reason I’m in here. the reason I took the chip. Because you let me get shot.”

“Shut up.”

“You couldn’t help me and when I needed you most you disappeared.” you sneered at her as tears ran down her face.

“I’m sorry... I-”

Clarke’s hand was on her shoulder, leading her out of the room before you could get another jab in, but that didn’t stop you from trying.

“I HATE YOU RAVEN. I HATE YOU.”

* * * * * * * *

You watched as Sinclaire put together a type of bracelet device.

“Their design is good, I won’t be able to get here before they disconnect you.”

You felt your heart rate spike knowing what was to come and that you had no way of stopping it. You struggled to try to pull your hands free before they could latch the device on. Your attempts were pathetic.

“You know too much. I can’t let them have you.”

The red dress disappeared and your head felt like it was on fire.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.

You had to get rid of the burning, it engulfed your head, shooting from the base of your neck, its flame growing stronger every second. You slammed your head against the headboard. Once. Twice. Every time you did the burning seemed to stop for a second, so you speed up. Screaming as your brain felt like it was being incinerated. You didn’t even notice when the bracelet was strapped on. Your eyes moved to Raven's tear-stained face and her mouth open in an apparent scream.

You almost stopped. A second of hesitation before the banging resumed.

You didn’t notice when blood started to run down your neck or when Octavia grabbed your head in an attempt to hold it still. You tried to scream at them to stop, that they needed to let you stop the burning but you couldn’t seem to form words.

You screamed as tears ran down your eyes.

“Please please please Raven. I don’t wanna die. Please don’t let them kill me!” You hiccuped. Your neck continued to jolt as you tried to smash it against the headboard. She looked heartbroken as her hands fell to your cheeks. You closed your eyes as sobs racked your body. The faint feeling of her lips against your forehead felt like a drop of water in the desert.

“I’m sorry love” You felt all the blood in your body vibrate as the current soared through you.

* * * * * * * *

When you woke up everything hurt. The pain shocked you at first. You’d grow accustomed to its absence. You went to move your hands to your head, the sticky blood coated your fingers as they rested upon a thin cut at the base of your neck.

“Ow.”

Everyone let out an audible sigh of relief. Her familiar hands were on the sides of your head, pulling your face into her chest. You allowed her scent and the smooth folds of her shit to engulf your senses as you tried to ignore the bustling headache that was sneaking up on you.

As if suddenly remembering you grasped her forearms pulling them away from your head, You stared at the deep, red indentations on her wrists.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you let out a soft gasp.

You had done that to her.

She sensed your emotions, she always did. And she always knew exactly what to do about it. Her hands moved back to your hair, stroking it gently while avoiding the cuts and bruises you’d received.

You stared up at her for a while until the pain grew too much and you closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall back forward against her stomach.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

Ohhhhh kuroos doing a good job of tutoring bokuto in school lately (bc bby owl is a dumb dumb). Bokuto decides to thank kuroo and gives him a present - the girl kuroo has been after for a while, unconscious and lying in his bed 🙊🙉🙈

You... you just get me, anon 😌

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader

TW kidnapping, drugging, implied dub/non-con ~ Part II • Part III

Gift Wrapped

“Fifty six!”

Bokuto’s hand slams down a stack of papers onto the desk and sure enough, written in big loopy red handwriting, circled and underlined at the top of the first page of the exam paper is his score - fifty six out of a hundred. Barely a pass.

“I freakin’ killed it!”

Kuroo can barely suppress his sardonic grin as he looks up at his friend, “Well look at you! Amazing what a little bit of study can do, huh? You’re a shining beacon of hope for idiots everywhere.”

Normally that would get a little rise out of the Ace, but Bokuto’s beaming grin doesn’t waver, and he’s kind of rocking back and forth on his heels like a little kid about to be set loose in a candy store. “You know I can’t study for shit. You really saved my ass on this one, Kuroo!”

Kuroo knows his friend too well to buy into the flattery, much less the innocent look that’s plastered across his face. A single eyebrow cocks, “You’re acting… weird. Why?” he asks suspiciously.

Bo’s grin widens and Kuroo’s stomach sinks. Whatever this is, he knows it can’t be good. Suddenly he wishes that Akaashi were here. Between the two of them, he’s always been better at managing Bokuto’s less than well thought out impulses. Unfortunately for him, the ex-setter was out of town for the weekend, meaning that whatever hell Bokuto was no doubt about to unleash would be solely his problem.

“Don’t be a dick! I am trying to be nice here, I even got you a present to say thanks for tutoring me!” Bokuto grumbles.

Now that makes him pause. “A… present?” Somehow it doesn’t ease the weird feeling in his gut. It’s not that he thinks Bokuto’s incapable of giving a gift out of the kindness of his heart, or that it would necessarily be a bad one, but the shit eating smile on his face that has yet to shift isn’t filling him with boundless confidence. It’s also apparent that aside from his test paper, his friend is empty handed. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not gonna like this gift very much?”

Something in Bokuto’s eyes glints. “Oh trust me, dude. You’re gonna love it!”

He doubts it, but keeps his mouth shut as Bokuto grabs his arm and pulls him (or tries to, at least) to his feet.

Kuroo’s frown only deepens when he’s led down the hallway, passing his own bedroom and stopping in front of Bokuto’s. “Why are we-”

“Just shut up and close your eyes.”

Kuroo takes a deep breath, “Bo-”

“Dude, just- just trust me okay! Shut your eyes and don’t open ‘em until I say so,” he orders.

Kuroo eyes his friend warily, but after a moment he complies, praying to god that he’s not gonna regret this. He’s not exactly the cleanest guy himself, but he’s avoided going into Bo’s room at all costs - it’s kind of a health hazard.

But he trusts Bokuto.

Mostly.

He hears the handle turn and the squeak of the hinges as the door swings open, and he tries not to snort as Bokuto grabs him by the arm and leads him inside.

“… Alriiiight, open!”

Kuroo does as he’s told. He blinks in surprise, Bokuto’s room is exactly as he remembers it. Clothes, in varying states of cleanliness, littered across the floor. Dirty plates and empty cups spread out across almost every available surface, A few textbooks with various paragraphs highlighted lying open on his desk next to his laptop (browser window open at the pornhub homepage), but Kuroo can’t focus on any of that, because he’s staring at Bokuto’s bed.

Rather, the figure lying on top of Bokuto’s bed.

His breath catches in his throat, heart pounding almost painfully in his chest. It’s like the world’s stood still. He risks a glance out of the corner of his eye at Bokuto, but his friend’s just grinning wildly at him, as if he knows that-

As if he knows that this is the only thing Kuroo Tetsuro has ever wanted.

He can’t bring himself to speak, to ask how Bokuto of all people knows his dirty little secret when he’s tried so hard to keep it to himself… but, in that moment he doesn’t even care.

Because you’re lying there in front of him, in a pretty sundress, hair flowing free and spilling across the pillows, your chest rising and falling gently in your sleep. God, you just look so beautiful and so very, very defenceless.

He starts walking towards the bed before his brain even catches up with him. There are a thousand questions running through his mind as he carefully settles himself down on the mattress beside you - least of which is how the hell Bokuto even managed to get you here, but before he can ask you let out a soft sigh that sounds almost like a moan and his thoughts disappear entirely. He reaches for you, his hand trembling, and ever so gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll fade away before him, and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear.

He shudders out a gasp. You’re real.

You’re really here.

With him.

How many months had he been watching you in the classes you share together, following you around campus like a lost puppy dog? How many times had he thought about bringing you home, making a move to finally claim you as his?

This… this is his gift? He raises his eyes to look at Bokuto once more, only to find him practically vibrating with excitement. “Did I do good? Did I do good, huh?? Tell me I did good!” he says with a booming laugh, clapping Kuroo on the back.

And Kuroo can’t help but chuckle. Really, he should be more than a little alarmed that one of his best friends is more than comfortable essentially kidnapping a girl just to make him happy, but he’s no saint either. So he grins and nods his head. “Yeah, you did good, man.”

“Ahh, it was nothing!” he replies with a dismissive wave.

He almost rolls his eyes at that, but a sudden thought makes him pause. “Why is she here though, in your bedroom?”

Bokuto snorts, “Well I could hardly sneak her into your room this morning, now could I?”

Eh, he can’t argue with that.

His attention moves back to you, deep in whatever drugged slumber Bokuto managed to induce. It’s not the first time he’s seen you sleeping of course, but it’s the first time he’s ever been close enough to touch you.

“Bo?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Find somewhere else to crash tonight.”

Rather than being offended, he just laughs again, “What? Don’t think you’ll be able to keep it to your room?”

Kuroo’s lips curl into a smirk as he brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, but he doesn’t reply. Doesn’t really need to - they’ve always been on the same kind of wavelength with stuff like this.

Bokuto just shrugs and shoots a wink, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

And then he’s gone, and it’s just the two of you. Slowly, gently, he eases you up off the bed and into his arms. Your head lolls back against his shoulder and he fights off a groan. Your skin is so soft and you feel so good in his arms. He can smell the subtle perfume of your hair and he falls in love with you all over again. He wonders, not for the first time, if you’ll taste just as sweet.

You’re perfect, but he’s known that for a long, long time.

He can’t help but smile as he carries you into his room and lays you down onto his bed. So many possibilities, he can’t help but be a little excited.

God knows he’s wrapped his hand around his cock and jerked off to countless fantasies about what he’d do when he finally had you, but in those fantasies you were always awake, if not an active, eager participant.

He wants you aware the first time he fucks you, the first time he makes you cum for him. He wants to hear all your pretty sounds, feel your body tighten and writhe beneath his touch. He wants to stare at your face as you come undone for him.

It’s fine though, he thinks as he lies down on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t mind waiting, not when the two of you have the rest of your lives together to play each and every one of them out.

But surely a stolen kiss won’t hurt in the meantime, right?

~ Part 2

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #yandere kuroo tetsuro #yandere haikyuu imagines #kuroo x reader #female reader #my writing #tw implied drugging #tw kidnapping #tw implied noncon #yandere fic #yandere haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fic #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurō #bokuto kotaro

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morgana-ren · 3 years

Note

so, idea: good old fashioned villains vs heroes. heroes massacred, shiggy kills a pro hero and is about to kill their sidekick, then the kids they were protected. sidekick says she'll do anything to save them; shiggy does the whole leering 'anything?' thing, expecting her to punch him, or use her quirk -- but she knows she's outmatched, and so she kisses him instead. slightly older reader (like 28), manchild confused shiggy, then we go from there

He’s a total school boy but he’ll never admit it

Liquid red bleeds into white, seeping into the fabric of your slashed hero uniform and settling into the pores of the fabric. Your knees tremble and your body quakes, gripping the wound across your stomach as blood slips through the slats of your fingers. Gravel embeds into your knees, nerves singing with pain. The tears slipping down your cheeks mingle with ash and soot, the fleeting remains of the brave hero who gave his life to keep you from the same fate.

A group of terrified students cowers behind you, trembling from the nightmare to the front.

These aren't just students- they're children. These are children. They cling to each other, cold and hurt and terrified. The brave ones do their best to tend to the few wounded, staring down at the threat that encroaches. Others shrink. Some cry and pray.

All are shaking.

Don't let them see you like this!

You're grateful for the rain; the tears that slip down across your face through your defiant features are hidden. The pain is blinding but you refuse to fall. They need you. You can't afford to fall now. This isn't about you.

He inches closer, the monster clad in black, careless footsteps sloshing through the puddles on the ground as his red shoes stop just short of you. Hands in his pockets, head cocked as he looks down on you with an expression that reeks of condescension. Rain slips through his silver hair, a hideous cackle resounding along side the thunder.

“This is the best the heroes have got, huh? Pathetic.”

The sole of his shoe collides with your chest, sending you careening onto your back. The wound in your side sears as you hit the asphalt, a scream ripping from your lungs despite your will. There’s an unforgiving sting in your cheek as it slides across the terrain, forcing a muffled sob from your throat, pain becoming overwhelming.

He circles you for a moment, sneering with jagged teeth bared. A predator sizing up his fallen prey. Disgust is apparent in his eyes; he hates you. It only lasts a moment before he throws one leg over you, leaning down and straddling your prone form, firm hand gripped on your chin.

“I’m going to kill you, little hero. It’s going to hurt. But before I do, I want you to know that I’m going to kill them as well. Can’t have the next generation of heroes using you as a martyr now can we?”

Fear is palpable from behind you. Between the rumbles of thunder, you can hear the crying and pleading. None try to run- they’re surrounded- trapped by villains that circle around them like ravenous wolves.

You can’t let him do this. You can’t let him hurt them!

“Wait! Please!-” Your mind runs at unforgiving speed, head pulsing and pounding with pain and panic. “Don’t hurt them! Take me instead.”

He scoffs, gripping you by the collar and yanking you up slightly off the ground. “I already told you I was going to kill you. Are you some kind of idiot or something?”

“You can take me back with you. I won’t fight you. You can torture me or kill me or use me as bait. I won’t put up a fight. I’ll go willingly if you please just-” A small hiccup in your chest, knowing you mean every word and the weight it carries. “-Just please let them go. They’re just kids.”

He seems unimpressed, but there’s a small flash across his eyes, one you recognize. Your submission to him in front of all these people, your students, strokes his ego. You swallow down another sob, desperately trying to contain the shivers that wrack your limbs.

“Please, Shigaraki. I’ll do whatever you want.”

His eyes narrow, studying your face and then further down your body, gaze lingering on less than appropriate places for far too long for you not to understand where his mind has steered him. “Whatever I want, huh? That’s a pretty stupid thing to say when you don’t know what I’ll ask for.”

You’re fairly certain now what it is he wants, and if it saves the lives of the innocents behind you, you’ll lock away your pride and your dignity and whatever else you need to if it keeps them safe. Shigaraki Tomura is a man after all, and ultimately men are simple creatures with even more simple desires. With a shaky gesture, you lift your palm up from the ground and place it gently on his own hand that grips your collar.

“Anything.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, his expression falters. He looks confused, flustered even. Given your close proximity, you can even see the blush blossoming in his cheeks and down his neck. He looks almost innocent in this second, like a school boy faced with his first crush. You imagine he almost certainly didn’t expect you to acquiesce, let alone encourage his line of thinking.

Disbelief. He looks like he doesn’t believe you.

You slowly push up towards him and his fist tightens on your clothing. He expects an ambush. That you’ll get his guard down with your seductions and then strike when he’s lost in the fog. A good tactic, but in this scenario, it sports a one hundred percent chance of failure. Shigaraki is an excellent fighter, and an even more impressive strategist. The only winning move is the one he has never planned for.

Before he can recoil, you smash your lips against his.

You can feel his breath hitch, eyes widening in total incredulity. For the first time in nearly his entire life, Tomura Shigaraki is at a complete loss. The hoots and hollers from the low lives under his command mesh into the sounds of the storm that rages around you, but you shove down the humiliation and defeat. Being a hero means saving them- No matter what the cost to you.

When he finally finds the mind to kiss you back, it’s the antithesis of everything he stands for. It’s meek and gentle, almost fragile in nature. It’s painfully apparent he doesn’t know a thing about what he’s doing, but he indulges none the less. His tongue slips across your lips and you’re prepared to take the hit but he pulls away as suddenly as he accepted it.

“Fine-” He huffs, breathless as he pulls you both callously to your feet, ignoring the agonizing wound laced across your ribs. The pain is too much and you almost fall but he catches you with a strange amount of consideration. He doesn’t quite carry you- That would look weak after all- but he takes a considerable amount of strain off of your body as he keeps you upright.

”Leave the brats. They’re useless.” He commands his small platoon away to some measure of disappointment from them. “I got what I came for anyway.”

#Shigaraki x reader #Strangely NOT nsft #Gods I am so hungover I couldn't remember half of the words in my vocab #hehe he all flustered #'Don't you know what I'm going to make you do?'

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peakywitch · 4 years

Text

The psychic - Tommy Shelby

“Tommy trusts a psychic, and discovers a lie he’s been told”.

warnings: none, mentions about death, dead people, hell and Lucifer

word count: 1k~

requests are open!

masterlist

"A what?!"

The entire Shelby family screamed. Polly, Michael, Arthur, John, Ada, and Finn stared at Thomas in astonishment. He just smoked on his cigarette, exhaled calmly, and cleared his throat.

“A psychic,” replied the calm one, “the woman stopped me in the street. She gave me details of Grace that were private to her. He told me numbers that made sense. Not just Grace."

He smoked from his cigarette and Aunt Polly pressed her lips together. Polly hated Grace. While Grace was dead, and Polly was sad for her nephew, she couldn't help but be delighted to learn that the traitor had been killed.

“She gave me exact numbers. Do you remember, Arthur, how much we made with Monaghan Boy? " asked Tommy, calm as always.

"Well ..." thought the older Shelby. His recent fight with Linda did not favor his memory.

"Oh bloody hell, Arthur," Polly sighed "twelve thousand pounds, Thomas."

“No” he said “We made everyone believe that. The whole damn town of Small Heath thought we had won that, Pol. We made nearly twenty-five thousand, and no one ever knew. "

Twenty-five thousand pounds.

Finn's heart skipped a beat, as Ada pursed her lips thinking about how that money could have helped all the children who had been left without a father after the fateful war.

John smiled as he lifted his glass of scotch from the table in the house on Watery Lane.

“The girl didn't just tell me twenty-four, Pol. She told me twenty-four thousand two hundred and seventy. The fucking woman has something. So I asked her to come.”

Tommy forced a small smile as he drank his second glass of whiskey of the day.

"And what will she do?" Ada asked between sarcastic laughs "Tell us when we will get married? Or when will we die?”

"We will die sooner rather than later, that's for sure, if we continue to trust street people, Tommy ..." said Arthur.

————

(Y / N) was a strange woman, of that there was no doubt.

The entire Shelby clan was watching her carefully, trying to understand what she was doing with her candles, her incenses and her soft song.

"Very good," she said, "sorry for spending so long with this thing," she pointed to some dry leaves, which were smoking, "but the smell of crime here will only attract the damn satan."

Michael looked at her like a scared wet cat, while Finn and John secretly admired how much mystery could go into such a beautiful girl. (Y / N) took some cards out of her little handbag.

Polly stopped breathing: the tarot. The last time the letters had been read to her, she had been told that her daughter was dead.

"Will we play poker o’ what?" Arthur asked in a condescending and sarcastic way. The young woman began to move her hands, shuffling carefully and without looking at the cards, since she had her black eyes traveling through those iconic blue Shelby eyes, which they all had. Her lips whispered a mantra, almost mesmerizing. Shedrew seven cards.

One for each Shelby and Gray present.

The lovers, the tower, 9 of swords, the five of swords upside down, the sun, the empress and the devil upside down.

"Good," the girl smiled, "let's get started." He took the letter from Lovers, and looked at Shelby with the mustache. “Your name is after your father, but you have someone, Arthur. A grandfather a certain..."she began to think “My ... my ... Mikael? " the name came out dubious. "Maybe it's Michael, but he was Russian, right?"

Polly choked on her tea, starting to cough. Michael gently rubbed her back.

"Funny you are choking, Pollyana" (Y/N) whispered, Polly looked dead into her eyes. "Mikael is taking care of your daughter, Rosie Jane, isn't he? You know it, you know it's him because of the way she raises her arms and smiles: it reminds you of you.”

Arthur was about to cry, his heart was pounding. But he wasn't going to accept it, ever.

"But ..." she whispered, "you will have to make a decision" she said calmly, drawing another card, the two of spades "And it will be difficult."

"Fookin’ ‘ell," Arthur blurted out, then made his whiskey white.

The young woman shifted her eyes to Ada, raising the nine of swords.

"Karl doesn’t let you sleep, does he?" She asked playfully.

Ada laughed sadly.

“He ..." she sighed.

"He's sick," the psychic released. Ada's lip trembled. “He has had a fever for days and it does not go down. Take him to the river, make his body achieve a balance. Put his legs in the water, after he should nap on a bed of hay. And please, don't give the poor kid any more cow's milk, he's intolerant. And I know you can't handle Freddie's gas, so why would you have to tolerate Karl’s?”

The Shelby family bursted into laughter, making fun of their poor sister. With a smile on her face, the girl took the next card. The five of swords, reversed.

“John Michael Shelby" the boy's name left her lips with a somewhat pessimistic sigh. The psychic looked Shelby in the eye "You have signed your death warrant, John. Go far away, where they won't find you. A Luke is looking for you and will not rest until a bullet, with your name in another language, is between your eyes.”

John's eyes said it all: he was scared.

A cold sweat ran down her spine as her jaw clenched.

"America?" he asked, trying to sound calm. The girl's eyes darted around the house, what the hell was she doing? His eyes returned to John.

“No, he comes from there, but he comes from here too."

"England?"

"Europe." the woman sentenced.

With a sigh, his eyes went to the red-haired one.

"Hi Finn," she smiled, "or should I say ... congratulations?" she asked.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" he asked confused. Or at least pretending.

"What is her name? Charlize? Charlotte? Charlie? " she asked.

Finn paled.

"Then yes?" Finn asked.

"Yes." she blurted out. Finn, in less than two seconds, was on his way to his girlfriend's.

"Well, Polly," the girl smiled, "you're on the right side of life. And everything you hear...is true. Don't you hear it, Polly? The names, the dates...they are crying out for you, Pol, to help them. Is there a soldier...Mark? " she asks.

“So...she isn’t crazy then?" John asked, laughing curiously.

"Your mother says you are an idiot and you have the head of a cucumber" said the psychic.

This time it was Polly who burst out laughing, that insult was typical of her sister.

"Hello Michael." she said, as she grabbed the devil's card “Please free yourself from your past. I know it costs you, but go and exploit that water-thing that you hate so much. You are thinking about it so damn much that you are making me sick." Michael smiled scared and embarrassed. “Your foster mother's father, your grandfather Joe, will distract the guard that night. He also wanted to exploit that 'fucking wishful shit.'”

Michael smiled and laughed wistfully: “I’ll do it for him.”

“Good, Mr. Shelby. The cards tell me nothing more about you than we all know: your life is a complete disaster. But know that the only times you see Grace is at Charlie. His hallucinations are not real. "

All hell broke loose in Thomas Shelby's face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, keeping a monotonous voice.

"I am not being able to communicate with Grace, Mr. Shelby..." sighed the young woman.

"And what the fuck does that mean?"

"She may be in fuckin’ hell and that's why you can't communicate, my dear." Polly spat, smoking a cigarette Tommy closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Trust me, Polly. I have spoken to Lucifer himself." she blurted out casually "Mr. Shelby, Grace is not dead."

part two

#john shelby #arthur shelby #tommy shelby #finn shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #michael gray #polly gray #luca changretta #birmingham #john shelby imagine #alfie solomons #arthur shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #finn shelby imagine

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sapphireplums · 4 years

Text

You’re Not Alone

Description: Y/N Barber the twin sister of Jacob Barber decided to go for a jog one day, but who knew her whole life can change in matters of seconds.

Warnings: angst, language, sexual assault -DON'T READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE

Pairing: Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader Jacob Barber x Sister!Reader

A/N: if any of you guys have ever been assaulted in any type of way, i'm so sorry that has happened to you. you guys are all beautiful and strong human beings. if anyone wants to talk my inbox is open :)

While reading this, listen to lovely by billie eilish. it really sets the mood for the story.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BABES

A second. It only took seconds for you to not pick up your phone call from your brother. It was one of those moments where you did not to pick up the phone because you were distracted. But because of that, it almost cost you your life.

THREE HOURS BEFORE THE ASSAULT

♧

You and your older twin brother Jacob were walking home from school arguing about what dog is cuter. You know, the ususal twin stuff.

“No, Jake, German Shepherds are the cutest dog out.” You said with confidence.

“No, Y/N, Corgi’s are the cutest obviously.” Your twin brother kept saying. “ And I'm obviously right because I'm older than you by 49 seconds.”

He always used the ‘older twin’ card on you.

The argument lasted about a few minutes until you guys just gave up and agreed that they were both cute. However, in your mind , you kept saying German Shepherds were better.

“I’m hungry Jake. What do you think we’re going to have for dinner tonight?” You said as your stomach was rumbling.

“ You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jacob said with a smirk knowing that your twin telepathy was tingling.

“Ohhh yessss.” Then you both shouted at the same time:

“KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN.”

When you guys got home, you saw your mom on the couch typing something on her laptop.

“Hey kids, how was school today?” Laurie said looking up from her laptop.

“It was good mom” You said and you gave Jacob the look basically saying ‘tell mom we want kfc’

Jacob groaned. “Mom can we get kfc for dinner? Me and Y/N have been craving it for a while”

“Is that your guys’ twin thingy where you want the same thing and think the same thing?” Laurie said smiling at the thought of how her kids got along so well and had a strong sibling bond.

“ Yes mom, yes it is.” you said as chips were being stuffed into your mouth. “But can we actually get kfc though? Jake and I have been craving it for a while.”

“Sure you guys, I’ll pick it up around the time you dad will come home”

“Thanks Mom.” You both said at the same time.

Going up to your guys’ room, Jacob turned on his video games while you were watching YouTube.

He was talking to his gaming friend through the earpiece yelling words at him and the tv.

You just rolled your eyes and smiled slightly at your brothers actions. Closing your laptop, you looked outside the window and saw that it was a nice day, so you asked Jacob if he wanted to take a jog with you.

“ Hey Jake, do you want to take a jog with me? It’s really nice outside right now.”

“ Sorry, maybe not this time sis. I’m really into this game.” Jacob said making you frown slightly.

“It’s okay Jake maybe next time.” Jacob turned his head towards you and smiled in agreeance.

You got ready and then tied your shoes when you were near the door.

“Mom, I’m going for a jog!” You yelled as you finished tying your shoes.

“Okay honey be home before dinner.” Your mom said as she was washing the dishes.

Running around the block, you took in the fresh air of the moisture that was in the air. Living in Massachusetts also meant wet weather which you loved. Summer wasn't really your favorite season but it was Jacobs. Being twins doesn’t mean you all like the same thing.

You and Jacob had the best sibling relationship not because you were twins, but that you just bonded in general. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you and you thought the same.

Getting tired from the constant running, you decided to take a walking break and scroll through Instagram. As you were scrolling, your screen lit up with your dads contact picture. It was the two of you on a fishing trip making funny faces.

“Hey dad how’s work?” You asked slightly out of breath due to the running.

“ Hey Sweetheart, after work I’m going to go to the grocery store and get those cookies you really like and I was thinking you and I can have a movie night?”

“Dad, you know I’m always up for movie night” you chuckled. “What about Jake and mom?”

“Mom texted me saying that she was going to go shopping for swim trunks or something and Jake is going too so it's just going to be you and me.”

“Okay dad, sounds good to me can’t wai-”

“I’m sorry honey I have to go back now, I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

“I love you too dad.” He hung up the phone rather quickly but you didn’t think much of it because you were going to see him at home anyways

Well so you thought. You thought you were going to be home at your normal time. Thinking that it would just be another normal day, but it would be far from that.

After the short walking break and talking to your dad, you decided to start your jogging again. Jogging was one of the activities you liked to do after a long day to release the stress that was contained in you. Sometimes you would go with Jacob but today he didn’t feel like it.

Imagine if you just stayed on call a little longer with your dad or if Jacob went with you. Everything would be different. Every decision you make on a day to day basis affects your life.

When jogging, up ahead you saw a man drop a box full of what looked like children's toys like dolls and race cars. Being the nice person you were, You approached the man and helped him pick up the toys.

Oh what a big mistake.

“Oh, sir, let me help you with that,” you said bending down picking up the toys that were on the ground.

“Thank you so much, darling,” the man said with a somewhat creepy smile, but you brushed it off.

Your phone started to buzz and you saw your screen light up with Jacob’s face, but you ignored it as you were still helping the man. You were thinking of just calling Jacob back later when you had the chance.

If you had the chance.

After helping the man, he stated his thanks to you.

“Thank you again, honey,” you really started to get freaked out by this man especially since he was calling you these names.

You gave him a nervous smile. “ You’re welcome, but I should get going now,” you said but before you could turn around and go back home, the man grabbed your wrist tightly, preventing you from going anywhere.

“You are right where I want you sweetheart”

Before you could scream, he covered your mouth with a wet towel. The smell was really bad. Next thing you know, you’re knocked out like a light switch.

♧

You woke up with a pounding headache. Trying to flutter your eyes open, you noticed you were in the backseat of a van. The next thing you saw made you panic. Your hands tied with your feet attached to them making it look like a fetus position.

Before you could try and do anything, the man opened the doors to the van, revealing a wicked grin. Your eyes grew wide when he started to grow closer to you with duct tape.

“Shhh don’t worry love I won't take long.”

You were confused what he meant by that. What did he mean he won’t take long?

That’s when it hit you like a truck. You were about to get raped.

He started to put his hands around your breasts, trailing it up to your cheeks. He held your cheeks and stared into your eyes intently. This is when the tears started to come out. You couldn’t say anything since your mouth was duct taped, but you tried to move frantically though it didn’t do anything.

He started to take down his pants and he basically ripped your leggings in half.

Why did this have to happen? You were only being a good person, helping a man, and this is what happens in return.

DURING THE SAME TIME AT HOME

♧

Jacob was starting to get worried and anxious. It’s been over an hour and you wouldn’t answer your phone. He probably called you literally a hundred times but still no answer. He asked your mom to call you to see if you would answer.

It went straight to voicemail.

Jacob started to panic even more. He decided to call your guys’ dad to see if he knows where you were.

The line started to ring. Then he picked up.

“Hey Jake, I was wondering if-” he was cut off by Jacob frantically asking him if he knew where you were.

“Dad! Did Y/N ever call you or anything?” Jacob frantically said to his father.

“ I talked to her about a couple hours ago, is everything alright?

“I-I don’t know dad. She didn’t come home after her jog and I’m getting a really bad twin vibe”

“Shit, okay Jake, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” With that Jacob hung up the phone.

“God Y/N/N, I hope you’re okay” Jacob said with tears on the verge of coming out.

When you woke up, you noticed that the familiar smell around your mouth. The man must have knocked you out. A burning pain was prominent in the lower half of your body. Everything started to come together. With your ripped pants and the bruises all over your body, you pieced everything together.

You were raped.

All of the thoughts in your head, you didn’t even notice that you were not in the van anymore, no, you were at a park.

This park was all too familiar. It was the park you and Jacob loved when you were kids. You got up but fell back down due to the agonizing pain.

The pain was unbearable. Tears threatening to come out of your eyes when you wanted to forget what happened.

But you couldn’t forget.

You laid there on the cold cement floor.

♧

The Barbers were in panic when they couldn’t find you. They had called the cops after being gone for six hours.

The police didn’t find you yet and frankly, they were doing a lousy job at it.

“Fuck it, I’m going to go for a drive and see if I find her” Andy said while stomping towards the front door.

“I’m coming with you.” Jacob said without question.

His baby sister was missing, he couldn’t just stay home and do nothing. Andy shook his head.

“No, Jake you need to stay here with your mother.” Before Jacob could object, a officer wanted to question him maybe knowing where you could be.

Andy drove around the neighborhood first, but no luck. He drove about another couple blocks where he stumbled upon a park. He knew the park. It was you and Jacob’s favorite park.

He slowly drove past the park to see if there was any luck. At this point, Andy almost gave up and went back home until he saw something.

Andy’s eyes widened with fear and joy when he saw you, his baby girl, at the park. But his smile fell when he saw you laying on the ground.

What if you were dead? Andy thought to himself

“ Oh my God, Y/N!!!” Andy basically sprinted towards you.

You could barely get out the words since your throat was sore from crying so much.

“Daddy?!” You said weakly with tears on your cheeks and your eyes bloodshot from the crying.

“Y/N what happened?”

But before you could answer, he saw your ripped pants, bruises on your body and the blood coming out near your legs.

“Oh my God, Y/N please tell me you weren’t raped?” Andy said with sadness but also extreme anger knowing that there was a bastard out there who possibly touched you.

You could barely get out the words but all you said was “ I was d-daddy.”

Andy was furious at this point his worst nightmare came true.

“ Y/N I’m so sorry. If only I stayed on the phone with you a little longer I could have-” You interrupted your father knowing this wasn’t his fault.

“Dad, this was not your fault.”

Andy still looked at you with sad eyes, but despite what happened to you, he was just happy that you were alive.

“Come on baby let's go home” Andy said while carrying you bridal style.

“ I’m so sorry dad. I was just helping this one guy and-and he-”

You started to stumble on your words but your dad stopped you.

“ No no baby you don’t have to say anything now. But know Duffy might ask you some questions so we can catch the guy okay?”

You just nodded at your dads words not wanting to say anything.

♧

On the drive home Andy heard you sniffling he reassured you with comforting words.

“Honey, it’s okay, you’re safe now nobody is going to hurt you now.”

You thought back to when Jacob was calling you. “ You know Jake called me when I was helping that man,” you started. “ If only I answered his call this probably wouldn-”

You were cut off by your father. “Y/F/N do not say that. None of this was your fault it was that son of a bitches fault”

You were taken aback when your dad cussed and then you chuckled softly. “Woah dad, I didn’t know you tolerated that type of language”

Andy just laughed, but before you could say anything else, you noticed you were home.

Jacob and Laurie were outside talking to police officers, but they turned around and saw you in the car.

Jacob eyes widened and was the first to run towards you and give you a hug. When he broke the hug, he looked at you and saw your bruises which made him fume with anger, but he would worry about that later. He was just happy you were home.

“Y/N oh my god are you okay?!” you just nod your head.

You went to give Laurie a hug which lasted short when a voice spoke up.

“ Hi Y/N, I’m detective Duffy, I work with your father and I’m sorry to ask you this but we need to question you while your mind is fresh.”

“Duffy can’t this wait until later we just found her.” Andy said while looking back at his daughter.

“No dad it’s okay I’ll be fine.” Jacob gave you sad eyes of sympathy, but you gave him a reassuring smile.

♧

“So Y/N, tell me from the start of what happened?” Your family was there to support you. You wanted them to be there.

You started from the beginning with the jog, the man dropping the toys, the chloroform, the van, the pain in your lower area, everything.

Laurie just cried into Andy’s shoulders while his fists were clenched white. He was so angry. No, not at you, but at the fact that he couldn’t protect you.

Jacob held your hand the entire time while you told Duffy what happened. He was angry that he didn’t go on the jog with you. He was mad that he couldn’t protect his baby sister.

“Im so sorry this has happened to you Y/N, you should have not gone through that. We will find the man and he will be punished for his crimes.”

You nodded and smiled slightly at Duffy.

♧

After all the cops left, you didn’t know what to do. You were still traumatized.

Your head was resting on Andy’s lap and your legs were on Jacobs. You were dozing off, but you were scared to sleep or eve close your eyes.

Everytime you closed your eyes, you just saw the man. Jacob seemed to notice this because you flinched a little.

He rubbed your leg with reassurance telling you that you’re okay now.

“ Y/N you can finally sleep now. We’re here for you, you don't have to worry about anything.” Jacob said to you

That's when everything broke. You couldn’t handle it anymore tears and sobs were everywhere.

Your family all gave you a hug with love evident in it. This is when you finally knew you were safe.

You then spoke up while drying your tears. “Can we still get KFC?” you said with a smile. Everyone just laughed and that’s when you finally knew you had a loving family and you couldn’t be anymore thankful than that.

♧

A/N :OMGGg I cried writing some of this ahhhh. I might make a part 2 depending if I get any ideas and if this doesn’t flop.

Taglist for ‘You’re Not Alone’;OPEN

@cloudystevie

Permanent Taglist; OPEN

@tvckerlance @lozzypoz321 @princess-evans-addict

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

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The British Schindler

He saved 669 children.

Nicholas Winton was a young British stockbroker who rescued 669 Czech Jewish children from being sent to Nazi death camps. He never told anybody of his heroism, and the story only came out 50 years later after his wife found an old briefcase in the attic containing lists of children he’d saved.

Nicholas was a 29 year old clerk at the London stock exchange getting ready for a ski trip to Switzerland when he received an urgent call from his friend Martin Blake. Known to be passionately opposed to Nazism, Martin urged Nicholas to cancel his vacation and come to Prague immediately. He told Nicolas, “I have a most interesting assignment and I need your help. Don’t bother bringing your skis.”

It is a testament to Nicolas’ sterling character and strong moral compass that he didn’t waver for a moment. It was an easy decision to sacrifice his fun and relaxing ski trip and instead travel to a dangerous place on a mysterious mission.

Two months earlier, in October 1938, Nazi Germany had annexed the Sudetenland It was clear that the Nazis would soon occupy all of Czechoslovakia. When he reached Prague, Nicholas was shocked by the huge influx of refugees fleeing from the Nazis. In early November, the Kristallnacht pogrom occurred in Germany and Austria. Jews were killed in the street and hundreds of synagogues burned down, as well as Jewish-owned businesses. This horrifying event shocked the Jewish community in eastern Europe, and thousands were now desperate to flee.

Born to Jewish parents, Nicholas was actually Jewish himself. However, his parents changed their name from Wertheim and converted to Christianity before he was born. Nicholas was baptized and raised as a Christian, and he didn’t consider himself Jewish (although was doubtless aware that Hitler would.)

In Prague, organizations were springing up to help sick and elderly refugees, but Nicholas noticed that nobody was trying to help the children. In his words, “I found out that the children of refugees and other groups of people who were enemies of Hitler weren’t being looked after. I decided to try to get permits to Britain for them. I found out that the conditions which were laid down for bringing in a child were chiefly that you had a family that was willing and able to look after the child, and fifty pounds, which was quite a large sum of money in those days, that was to be deposited at the Home Office. The situation was heartbreaking. Many of the refugees hadn’t the price of a meal. Some of the mothers tried desperately to get money to buy food for themselves and their children. The parents desperately wanted at least to get their children to safety when they couldn’t manage to get visas for the whole family. I began to realize what suffering there is when armies start to march.”

Nicholas knew something had to be done, and he decided to be the one to do it. He later remembered, “Everybody in Prague said, ‘Look, there is no organization in Prague to deal with refugee children, nobody will let the children go on their own, but if you want to have a go, have a go.’ And I think there is nothing that can’t be done if it is fundamentally reasonable.”

Nicholas decided to find homes for the children in the UK, where they would be safe. He set up a command center in his hotel room in Wenceslas Square and his first step was to contact the refugee offices of different national governments and see how many children they could accept. Only two countries agreed to take any Jewish children: Sweden and Great Britain, which pledged to accept all children under age 18 as long as they had homes and fifty pounds to pay for their trip home.

With this green light from Great Britain, Nicholas did everything possible to find homes for the children. He returned to London and did much of the planning from there, which enabled him to continue working at the Stock Exchange and soliciting funds from other bankers to pay for his work with the refugees. Winton needed a large amount of money to pay for transportation costs, foster homes, and many other necessities such as food and medicine.

Nicholas placed ads in newspapers large and small all over Great Britain, as well as in hundreds of church and synagogue newsletters. Knowing he had to play on people’s emotions to convince them to open their home to young strangers who didn’t even speak English, Nicholas printed flyers with pictures of children seeking refuge. He was tireless in his efforts and persuaded an incredible number of heroic Brits to welcome the traumatized young refugees into their homes and hearts.

The office in Wenceslas Square was manned by fellow Brit Trevor Chadwick. Every day terrified parents came in and begged him to find temporary homes for their children. Despite Nicholas’ success in finding places for the kids to stay, British and German government bureaucrats made things difficult, demanding multiple forms and documents. Nicholas said, “Officials at the Home Office worked very slowly with the entry visas. We went to them urgently asking for permits, only to be told languidly, ‘Why rush, old boy? Nothing will happen in Europe.’ This was a few months before the war broke out. So we forged the Home Office entry permits.”

The first transport of children boarded airplanes in Prague which took them to Britain. Nicholas organized an amazing seven more transports, all of them by train, and then boat across the English Channel. The children met their foster families at the train station and Winton took great care in making the matches between children and foster parents.

The children’s transport organized by Nicholas Winton was similar to the later, larger Kindertransport operation, but specifically for Czech Jewish children. Nicholas saved an astounding 669 children on eight transports. Tragically, the largest transport of all was scheduled for September 1, 1939 – but on that day, Hitler invaded Poland and all borders were closed by Germany. Winton was haunted for decades by the remembrance of the 250 children he last saw boarding the train. “Within hours of the announcement, the train disappeared. None of the 250 children aboard was seen again. We had 250 families waiting at Liverpool Street that day in vain. If the train had been a day earlier, it would have come through. Not a single one of those children was heard of again, which is an awful feeling.”

Nicholas joined the British military and spent the rest of the war serving as a pilot in the Royal Air Force, attaining the rank of Flight Lieutenant. After the war, Nicholas worked for the International Refugee Organization in Paris, where he met and married Grete Gjelstrup, a Danish secretary. They moved to Maidenhead, in Great Britain, and had three children. Their youngest child, Robin, had Down Syndrome, and at that time children with the condition were usually sent to institutions. However Nicholas and Grete wouldn’t consider it and instead kept their son at home with the family. Tragically, Robin died of meningitis the day before his sixth birthday. Nicholas was devastated by the loss, and became an active volunteer with Mencap, a charity to help people with Down Syndrome and other developmental delays. He remained involved in Mencap for over fifty years.

Humble – and perhaps traumatized by the children on the train he wasn’t able to save – Nicholas rarely talked about his wartime heroism and his own family didn’t know the details. It was only in 1988 that Nicholas Winton became widely known. His wife found an old notebook of his containing lists of the children he saved. Working with a Holocaust researcher, she tracked down some of the children and located eighty of them still living in Britain. These grown children, some with grandchildren, found out for the first time who had saved them.

The BBC television show called That’s Life! invited Nicholas to the filming an episode that became one of the most emotional clips in TV history. With Nicholas in the audience, the host told his story, including photos and details about some of the children he’d saved. Then the told Nicholas that one of those children was the woman in the seat next to him! They embraced, teary eyed, and the host announced there were more grown children in the audience as well. She asked everybody who owed their life to Nicholas Winton to stand up. The entire audience stood up, as Nicholas sat stunned, wiping away the tears.

After that, Nicholas was showered with honors, including a knighthood for services to humanity. Known as the British Schindler, he met the Queen multiple times and received the Pride of Britain Award for Lifetime Achievement, both for saving refugee children and working with Mencap to improve the lives of people with cognitive differences. There are multiple statues of him in Prague and the UK, and his story was the subject of three films.

Nicholas Winton died in Britain in July 2015, at age 106. Today there are tens of thousands of people who owe their lives to Nicholas Winton.

For saving hundreds of Jewish children, we honor Nicholas Winton as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Accidental Talmudist

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ohmightydevviepuu · 3 years

Text

the last test and proof / part four

oh hey hai guess what we’re still here celebrating @profdanglaisstuff. A VERY MERRY UNBIRTHDAY, etc. ❤

@katie-dub and @thisonesatellite again deserve thanks for their insights, as ever. @shireness-says and the NO! CURSE! RENAISSANCE!!

part one | part two | part three | AO3

Things Emma and Hook Haven’t Talked About Yet:

1 - Neal 2 - The time she’d left him with a giant 3 - The time he’d left her in a cell 4 - Milah 5 - True. Love’s. Kiss.

The time he left her in a cell.

Okay, but.

Hook had left her. He’d left her, locked her in a cell and she could still hear the malice in his voice, the way it dripped from every letter, from every syllable. Emma closed her eyes and could hear it, the bite and the anger when he said, The time for that is done.

When Emma looked into his eyes and understood exactly what her mistake might cost her.

Just as I am done with you.

She rolled over, the sheet slipping away from her in the bed that wasn’t hers, sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, and waited. She waited for that feeling, that feeling in the pit of her stomach that always told her to run--but there was only the feeling she got when she thought she’d have to leave, like she was missing something. Home.

Emma got up from the bed and looked for her jeans on the floor, her jeans and her shirt and her underwear, and thought again about the qualities of a werewolf’s hearing because she was in one of the rooms at the B&B, the room that--apparently--Granny had given to Killian so he could “use the facilities” or whatever, like Emma even believed that.

Granny had a crush and Granny liked to look and Granny totally had a plan and they had played right into it which was fine. Great, even. Orgasm(s) and Feelings and she had kissed him and she hadn’t made out with someone like that since--ever, god, just lying there and feeling the other person against her as the kisses went from sweet to sexy and back again, her heart pounding as his eyelashes brushed against her cheeks and she felt the softness of his hair in her fingers.

Killian was gone but there was a note on the table with a little swan drawn at the top and the words i’ll return soon, please stay as long as you like and a little hook drawn underneath and next to the note was a cup of coffee mixed with exactly the right sugar-to-coffee ratio and a generous splash of milk. It was still hot.

Neal had never learned how she took her coffee.

Speak of the devil: Neal was in the diner, in a booth with their son and a plate of French fries between them. Emma watched them and couldn’t stop herself imagining the same scene playing out with Killian at the table, probably teaching Henry how to cheat at dice or poker or whatever games pirates played when they gambled. She couldn’t stop herself imagining another version of the scene, between Hook and Baelfire on the decks of the Jolly Roger where he’d apparently stayed for a time in Neverland.

Teaching him to fight with a cutlass that sat in his cabin some two hundred years later.

Neither of them ever talked about it, but Hook had taught Neal to sail and to play cards and to pick locks, never break in without a plan to break out and all of that; Hook had cared for him, maybe even loved him. Knew him well enough to decipher the drawings on the cave wall, port and starboard and a hook and an abandoned accounting of time when all hope was lost. Only that last one Killian knew the same way Emma knew, from painful personal experience. The look you get when you’ve been left alone.

They were--all of them--sentimental; Killian with the cutlass and Baelfire with his scrawled memories and Emma with the weight of an old keychain around her neck like an albatross.

They were, all of them, Lost Ones.

Emma slid into the booth next to Henry and grabbed a fry. (Wondered if Killian knew she preferred onion rings.) Met Neal’s look as it shifted from a smile to something less pleasant--yes, Neal, sex hair was a thing, too bad they so rarely got to do it in a real bed with so many orgasms; Emma smirked and raised her eyebrow.

Henry, smart kid that he was, excused himself to go to the counter and sit with Ruby, climbing over the divider in his haste to escape.

“Jesus, Em,” Neal muttered.

“Don’t be a dick, Neal,” Emma snapped.

“Fine,” he said. “Fine, how about I just break into your room and--”

“I was right about her.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Neal said.

“None of this is okay,” Emma said. “You showing up here acting like Henry’s father--”

“I am Henry’s father!”

“Do you even care at all about me, what it’s like for me having you here, the mess it’s making with Regina--”

“So the Evil Queen gets a say?”

“She’s his mother,” Emma said, exasperated. “He loves her.”

“And Hook? You don’t know what I know about him.”

“So tell me. Tell me what happened.”

Neal ran his hand through his hair and looked around and said, “Emma, he killed my mother.”

Emma’s response was immediate. “No, he didn’t.”

“As good as--he might as well have torn her heart out himself!”

“Seriously?”

“He wanted to kill my father,” Neal said. “He tore my family apart.”

“Neal.” Emma tipped her head to the side. “You know that’s not true. Your family--they were a disaster. They left you. Both of them. You told me that.”

“So that’s how it is now,” Neal said. “A good screw and you’re just--”

“Fuck you, Neal.”

“--is that what he told you, now you’re just making excuses for what he did, apologizing for him after--”

“Wait, what?”

“Come on, Emma, you know he tried to pull this with me the other day. He wanted to talk. About his regrets or some bullshit. You know I wished we could have been a family, Bae.” Neal rolled his eyes and suddenly Emma knew exactly what happened.

Not on the Jolly Roger. Only Neal and Killian would ever truly know that, but--in the cells.

And, well, maybe on the Jolly Roger. Because this--this was what Neal did: he lashed out, he pushed, he blamed everyone but himself. It’s what she did, too, and once upon a time it had been something they’d had in common, that fuck-the-world mentality.

And Killian--he’d pushed back. Let his anger overtake him, because that’s what he did, that’s how he coped, how he covered up his hurt and his pride and that’s what she’d seen in his eyes when he’d looked at her all just as I am done with you.

Disappointment.

And it was so easy, wasn’t it, to play down to expectations; Hook left her because she left him and now--

“Neal,” she said. “I can’t live in the past anymore.”

“You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“No. I’m not.” Emma shrugged. “The time for that--it’s done. You know that. I want to stop running.”

“You think Captain Hook is going to stay here, with you?”

She did. She believed.

The door opened and every head in the diner turned.

Not Emma’s. She didn’t look away from Neal, couldn’t, really, not before she said this: “No, Neal. I believe that Killian Jones is going to stay here. With me.”

And then she turned and the fry in her hand dropped onto the plate and her mouth fell open because Killlian-fucking-Jones had just walked into the diner like he’d stepped off of the pages of, like, GQ or something--in perfectly-fitted blue jeans and black boots and a red partially-unbuttoned Henley under a black vest and a black leather blazer.

A leather blazer.

And Emma didn’t miss the coat at all because--that view, it deserved to be on display. Wow. Did it ever. Granny was gonna break her neck, seriously.

Killian Jones walked in, not Captain Hook, and Tink trailed in behind him clutching a bag in her hand and looked around and saw Emma and winked and waved and gave her a smile, all, It’s good, right and fuck, yeah. It was. Killian turned back to Tink and followed the direction she was looking and saw her with Neal and Emma didn’t even think.

She left the French fry on its plate and stood up and walked straight over to him and this part would get easier, right? They’d figure out the routine and the comfort level but right now she just wanted to touch him, to let him know that she was there.

She understood.

She’d already known but now he was there in the clothes and she understood.

“Hello, beautiful,” she said and watched the smile blossom on his face.

Killian Jones was going to stay here. With her.

@optomisticgirl @spartanguard @kmomof4 @stahlop @carpedzem @karl0ta @captain-emmajones @mariakov81 @therealstartraveller776 @klynn-stormz @withaheartfulloflove @gingerchangeling @scientificapricot

#cs fic #3b divergence #no curse renaissance

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aph-honk-kong · 3 years

Text

Passing Seasons

Harald gets a taste of opulence the moment he touches down on Hong Kong. [A continuation of this.] [Written for @aphasiaweek with a focus on Taiwan, Macau and Hong Kong.]

He probably should’ve noticed the moment they got on the plane.

Even though Harald and his brother have had the privilege of travelling to a different country once a year since they were young, all of their flights have been spent taking the economy class. But on the flight to Hong Kong, he and Leon were accosted by a smiling flight attendant right at Heathrow Airport and lead to the very front of their plane, where they have their own private suite.

He’s in said suite now, the divider up between him and his boyfriend while he calls Stellan before takeoff.

“This flight probably costs more than what I make in a year!” He exclaims. “Leon said the tickets probably got mixed up or something, but in that case it’s the luckiest damn mixup ever. Look at this place!” Harald moves his phone around to display his surroundings. “The seats are so soft I could melt into them.”

On his phone, Stellan’s eyes widen at the sight of the cabin. “My goodness, I’ve lived in college dorms smaller than that.”

“I know, right? Leon’s on the other side of this divider, having a pre-flight cocktail. I didn’t even know that was a thing, for fuck’s sake! Imagine getting drunk before you’re even in the air.”

“Did Leon tell you where the two of you will be staying, by the way?”

“I think we’re staying in a hotel,” he replies. “He’s been really secretive about this trip, even though it’s so important.”

Stellan frowns. “Oh, that’s not good. Has he been acting differently lately?”

“No, not really. But I’m a little nervous, going so far away while knowing so little.”

“That’s natural. Remember to look out for yourself, especially since you don’t know much about Leon’s family and friends in Hong Kong.”

The intercom crackles above. “Cabin crew, prepare for takeoff.”

“Take care.” Stellan’s eyes crinkle as he gives a rare smile. “Call me if anything happens, okay? Even if it’s three in the morning for me I’ll get up to listen.”

“Thanks, Stell. I have to go now, but I’ll call again when I get to Hong Kong. See you.”

“Bye.”

He lowers the divider in the cabin after he’s hung up. “I’m still in shock,” Harald tells Leon. “How on earth did the airline mess up this much to our favour?”

“We’re just lucky, I guess.” Leon slides him a flute of champagne, eyes already slightly-glazed over. “It’s a good start to our trip. You nervous?”

“A little,” he admits. “It’ll be my first time to Asia, for one, and I’ll be meeting all your old friends and your family. What if they don’t like me?”

Leon cups his cheek, smiling tipsily. “They’re all going to love you, I promise.”

The aircraft rumbles and begins to move. He leans over to nuzzle his neck. “If you say so.”

...

Thirteen hours later, a very disoriented Harald clings on to Leon’s arm while they stumble through the Hong Kong International Airport. Groups of people are milling around, searching for the washroom, baggage pickup or both. Despite not having been back in years, Leon seems to know his way around perfectly and manages to get the two of them out of the airport without a hitch.

A neatly-dressed lady is waiting for them outside the airport, standing by a limousine with a pleasant smile. “Welcome to Hong Kong, Mr. Wang and Mr. Grieg,” she greets. “We are here to take you to the Four Seasons Hotel. Would you like us to help you with your luggage?”

“Wait, wh - “

“Yes, please.” Leon nods to their cart of suitcases, and a group of workers immediately exit the limousine to pick them up. “Thank you very much.”

“Leon, what the hell is going on?” He hisses. “Isn’t the Four Seasons one of Hong Kong’s most expensive - “

�� “Just relax, babe.” He pecks Harald on the forehead. “I know what I’m doing.”

He leads him into the limousine and sits him down on the plush velvet seat. Harald stares out the window, as though about to try and escape any moment. “Is this another mixup?”

“I hope not.” Leon places his hand over his and smiles. “I just wanted you to be able to stay at the best place possible while here.”

He gapes at the limousine, at the people still carrying their suitcases and stowing them in the trunk. “How much did all this cost?”

Leon fidgets, suddenly looking down. “Uh...” he mumbles, “thirteen thousand six hundred pounds - “

“What - “

“ - per night.”

“WHAT?” He nearly leaps out of his seat. “We can’t afford this! How long did you save up for the stay? Did you have to sell anything? How deep in debt are we? What the flying, soaring, somersaulting shit - “

“Harald!” Leon wraps an arm around him. “I promise we’re not bankrupt or anything like that. I just happen to be friends with some people who work at the hotel, and they managed to get us a special discount. Really, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“You could’ve at least warned me. If I’d known we’d be picked up in a limo, I wouldn’t have boarded the plane looking like a hungover college kid.”

“I think you look as cute as ever.”

“Shut up.”

They begin to drive away from the airport. Harald can’t help perking up to look out the window, staring in awe at the massive white bridge they leave Lantau Island on, then the rolling countryside mingling with the occasional building.

They pass schools, shipping ports, shopping malls galore, but the most stunning sight is that of Hong Kong Island. Soaring skyscrapers are a massive contrast to the few colonial buildings left, and everywhere, pedestrians of all kinds mill around.

Leon snuggles into him, squashing him against the window. “So what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” They pass a mall that looks like a miniature version of New York’s Times Square. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Wait ‘til you see our hotel.”

The limo pulls up in front of the Four Seasons and Harald’s jaw drops. This can’t be their hotel, it just can’t. The representative opens the door for them and leads them into the grand, gleaming building while their luggage is being taken care of. Still in shock, Harald steps into the stunning lobby and looks around. Not even the W Hotel, reputed as one of London’s best hotels, is this extravagant.

The elevator is transparent, letting them look out onto the busy streets of Wan Chai. He can’t stop pinching himself, for this breathtaking building can’t be where he’s staying.

The biggest shock comes when they open the door to their suite.

“What is this?” Harald can’t even bring himself to step inside. The suite looks more like the living apartments of some Western monarch of old, with plush, elegantly-carved furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the view and an actual chandelier hanging from the painted ceiling. Their suitcases are already there, opened up in their bedroom and waiting to be unpacked.

Leon is already making himself comfortable, pulling his clothes out of his suitcase and picking some out to wear after his shower. He looks at Harald, who’s still partially in shock. “What’re you waiting for?”

He gingerly enters the suite, eyes wide. He can’t even speak.

While Leon busies himself with showering, Harald takes out his phone and calls his brother.

“How was your flight?” Is the first thing Stellan asks after picking up.

“It was amazing. The food was great, for one, and in the middle of the flight the attendants flattened my seat into a bed. But that’s not the point.” Harald flips his phone’s camera around and moves it around his room. “This is the hotel suite Leon booked for us!”

He sits in silence for a while, quietly observing the room. “Well,” he finally says, “that’s certainly... something.”

“It’s a lot.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Too much, that’s for sure.” Harald glances at the bathroom. He’ll have to shower after Leon. “Thankfully Leon has friends here and pulled some strings so we can stay here cheaper.”

Stellan glances at something out of the camera - probably his husband - and waves him away. “It should be about three in the afternoon in Hong Kong right now. What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to shower first. How ‘bout you?”

“I have an interview this afternoon, but that’s about it,” he says. “Have fun in Hong Kong, okay?”

“I will. Good luck in your interview.”

They chat for a while more before Leon is finally done with his shower and it’s his turn to freshen up. Even the bathroom is fancy - everything’s made of marble, the towels are still-warm and the soap fragrant. He almost wants to stay in there forever until he remembers he has a city to explore.

Leon is on his phone, sitting on their massive bed when he comes out. “My brother and a friend of mine are meeting us at the hotel lobby in five minutes.”

“Your friend?”

“Her name’s Ling,” he explains. “She’s from Taiwan and pretty famous in the fashion world - her store opened a branch in Milan just last month.”

“Ooh.” Harald flops down next to him. The sheets are impossibly soft. “Woah, this is the best bed I’ve ever slept in.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Leon jokes. “We have go to down to the lobby.”

He reluctantly gets up from the bed and follows him out of the suite.

...

Vicente and Ling are waiting for them at the doors of the hotel. Leon waves at them, hand in hand with his boyfriend, and power-walks towards them as fast as he can without looking like he’s running.

“Jia Lin!” Ling rushes forward and envelopes him in a hug, laughing, “it’s been too long! You’re way taller now and your hair’s no longer a disaster but I see you still have shit fashion sense!”

His brother ruffles his hair. “Well, you can’t blame him. Londoners are even worse.”

Leon squirms out of Ling’s arms. “Why is it that the first thing you two do after seeing me is to roast me?”

“Is that your boyfriend?” She abandons Leon to approach Harald. “Hello there! Welcome to Hong Kong!”

With a skittish glance at him, Harald manages a smile. “Hi. My name’s Harald, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“No need to be so formal lah, just saying ‘hi’ is enough.” Ling stops in front of him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m Yue Ling, but people always manage to mess up ‘Yue’ despite it being a three-letter word so just call me Ling.”

“Uh, sure.”

Vicente gives Leon another slap on the shoulder before going to greet Harald. “Hi again. I don’t think you forgot who I am, right?”

“No, who are you?”

“Shut up.”

“So!” Leon interrupts. “Where do you want to go?”

Ling turns to him. “Shouldn’t you be the one deciding that? You’re the one who hasn’t been back for a while.”

Where to go first? There are so many old spots he simply has to revisit, but what sort of place will give Harald a good impression of his home city? Then his stomach growls. “I say we go eat something first.”

“Why don’t we go to Chu’s, then?” Vicente suggests.

“It’s still up?”

“Of course. I don’t think anyone would have the heart to close that place down.”

“Hell yeah.” Leon goes to take Harald’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t had their milk tea in, like, forever.”

Fifteen minutes later, the four of them are seated on rickety plastic chairs around a table, surrounded by shouting customers and waiters alike. He stares at the menu flattened to the table by the pane of glass and tries to decide exactly what he should order. These are foods he won’t be able to find anywhere outside Hong Kong, from garlic-fried noodles to fresh fishballs to egg custard that’s actually good, and every one of them gives him a pang of nostalgia.

Harald is pressed up next to him, squinting at the characters. “I understand all these words separately.”

He points at one of the dishes. “That one’s Hong Kong-style French toast. The one next to it is a, uh...” How do you translate this into English? “A toasted bun with condensed milk.”

They place their orders soon after. It feels amazing to be able to speak Cantonese again, to be surrounded by his mother tongue like a warm blanket. The chatter of the restaurant makes him feel like a secondary school student again, having afternoon tea after a long day of class. Leon takes a sip of his creamy milk tea and indulges himself with the memories for a while.

His phone rings in the middle of one of Vicente’s story. He looks at his screen, rolling his eyes when he realises it’s Yao. “Hello?”

“Ka Long! You’re back in Hong Kong now, right?”

“Yeah. I’m coming over for dinner tonight in case you forgot.”

“I know, I know. Did you bring that boyfriend of yours along?”

How did Yao know he brought Harald over? Better not to question. Leon sighs. “Yes.”

“What’s his full name?”

“Harald Grieg.”

“Aiyah, you brought a gwai zai home?”

He grits his teeth. “Why does it matter if he’s a Westerner or not?”

“No, no, it doesn’t. I’m just surprised, that’s all. What does he do for a living?”

“He’s the head chef at the Dragon Room.”

“Really now?” Yao says incredulously. “Very impressive. Educational background?”

“He didn’t go to university - “

“HE DROPPED OUT!?”

“No, he made the decision not to go.” Leon shoots his boyfriend an apologetic look even though he knows he can’t understand the conversation. “He went to culinary school and got a diploma.”

“Which culinary school?”

“No clue.”

“Okay, sure. What’s his net worth? If you don’t know, what’s his family’s?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“How many houses does he own?”

Leon blinks. Only his brother would want to know his partners’ property statistics. He prods Harald. “This is a stupid question, but how many houses does your family own?”

“There’s the house in Trondheim, which is the one my brother’s living in, and we have a summer home in Akureyri. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He parrots that information to Yao.

“Only two houses?” Yao repeats, disappointed. Leon resists the urge to throw his phone. “How many cars, then?”

“One.”

“Ugh, of course. Boats?”

He pokes Harald again. “Another stupid question, but do you have any boats?”

“Stellan and I have a motorboat we used to go out to sea with,” he replies. “What’s with you suddenly taking interest in the stuff I own?”

“It’s nothing, really.” Leon pecks him on the forehead. Across the table, Ling makes a face. He tells Yao over the phone, “he has a motorboat.”

“No yachts?”

“No yachts,” Leon confirms.

There’s silence on the other side for a long time. Then Yao finally asks quietly, “so you’re dating someone with no university education, two houses, one car and only one boat?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He half-shouts in English. Some people from other tables turn to stare at him. “Who cares if Harald’s not a multibillionaire? I love him, and that’s that!”

“He doesn’t even have a yacht!”

One more comment on Harald’s lack of yachts and I will throw this phone across the room, Leon seethes internally. “Quit your judging for now. You can make up your mind when Harald comes over for dinner tonight.”

#aph hongice #aph sar brothers #aph chinese trio #aph hong kong #aph iceland #aph macau #aph taiwan #aph china #aph fanfiction #my writing #aphasiaweek #crazy rich asians parody #spoiler alert: i've never been to the four seasons hotel here so idk how accurate the room is #i'm a Commoner don't expect my rich people bs to be accurate #also the original crazy rich asians had a bit of angst but i don't want to write any so this lineup of fics is just going to be ridiculous #china be like (shrek meme) 'he doesn't even have a yacht'

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porrokin · 3 years

Text

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

#writing #first chapter #story #storytelling #english story #fantasy #non acnh #mine

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momentofmemory · 4 years

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FICTOBER 2020 - day two

Prompt #2: “That’s the easy part.”

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Characters: Ned Leeds, Peter Parker

Words: 1445

Author’s Note: set semi-immediately post FFH, Ned & Peter have a chat on the nature of friendship, and a bit of star wars meta along the way. Ned POV. for @friendofspidermannedleeds

>> the han dies alone

Spider-Man was Peter Parker.

It was a fact that could mean a lot of things to Ned, but all that really mattered now was that it meant something to the entire world.

He’d watched the stream in mounting horror, his phone already blowing up with group messages and twitter mentions, and he had to bite back a hysterical laugh when he got a string of Snaps from Flash—one of which included an invite to an interview, and the rest of which devolved into increasingly confusing profanity.

Ned let them roll in for another few precious seconds, then muted all notifications except from emergency contacts, stuffed a bunch of supplies into the extra backpack he kept for when Peter lost his, and ran the full two blocks east to Peter’s apartment.

It was, to be perfectly honest, an absurd guess. Peter could’ve gone anywhere, but Peter was also a creature of habit—and home was where Peter went when he wanted to feel safe.

Ned’s guess was rewarded when he pounded on the Parkers’ apartment door and was nearly decked in the face by a red-clad fist.

“Whoa, hey, it’s me!”

Peter’s fist fell away instantly, giving Ned his first real look at his friend.

He looked even worse than he’d feared; his normally high-key energy verging on something closer to manic.

“Ned? What are you doing here? It’s not safe—”

“I came for you, man.” Ned hefted his backpack into the air, sliding deftly past Peter and into the hall. “Fifteen hundred piece lego set, beef jerky, granola, and also that history assignment you left on the floor last night.”

Peter stared at him in utter confusion, then shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Maybe, but it’s too late now. Where’s May?”

“She’s with Happy.” Peter followed Ned back into the bedroom. “They’re supposed to call when they know more.”

Good. If someone else was taking care of the world, then all Ned had to take care of was Peter.

______________________

"You should leave.”

“Yep.” Ned didn’t look up from his econ homework—It was at least the fourth time they’d had this conversation, and explaining opportunity cost to Mrs. Roessler seemed far more important. “Not going to.”

“Ned.”

“Peter. You said you were supposed to stay here until May or Happy texts. So that’s what we’re doing.”

Peter fell quiet for a moment, and Ned went on to the comparison sections for absolute advantage vs comparative advantage.

Then:

“It’s safer for me than it is for you.”

“And it’s safer for me when I’m with you.”

Something about that response seemed to rile Peter up specifically, as Ned could hear him shifting around on the bed. “And what about when the next axe crazy supervillain tries to use you as bait?”

“Then that’s the easy part,” Ned said with a shrug. “You rescue me.”

“Ned!” Peter tumbled off the top bunk, hair disheveled and looking absolutely scandalized. “This isn’t—this isn’t something to joke about—”

“I’m not joking.”

Peter frowned harder, and Ned momentarily stopped chewing his gum. He figured he was probably doing something cool like listening to his heartbeat or counting the beads of sweat on his forehead, so he didn’t want any chewing noises or motions to distract him.

Whatever Peter was looking for, he must not have found it. “Ned, just—just because you’re not joking doesn’t mean you’re serious. They could kill you to get at me.”

Ned sighed and put his homework down on the desk, resigning himself to another late assignment. It wasn’t like they were likely to have school tomorrow, anyway.

Discovering Spider-Man was on Midtown’s roll was sure to warrant at least one emergency “teacher work day” for the administration.

Peter was still looking at him, and the open fear on his face scared him more than he’d like to admit. Ned quickly pulled up YouTube on his laptop and started typing, just to give him something to do.

The second hand on the analogue clock ticked ominously.

Still no word from May.

“Look,” Ned said eventually, sliding another piece of gum out of his stash, “Han Solo was trying to leave the Rebellion when Vader captured him and Leia. He was out, and he still got used as bait.”

“That’s different,” Peter said. “Han was working with the Rebellion for months, and he was still there during the Hoth attack.”

Ned smacked his gum. “But Han himself wasn’t with the Rebellion. Or Luke.”

“But the Empire didn’t know that!”

“So what you’re saying is,” Ned said, “their current status didn’t matter because of their pre-existing relationship.”

Peter had nothing to say to that.

Ned returned his attention to the copyright infringement notice he’d written up. He’d managed to claim almost all of the footage from Mysterio’s reveal, and now anyone trying to repost it would be automatically taken down by the algorithm. It wouldn’t hold up in court, but all he needed was for it to ping YouTube’s three strike rule.

Hopefully that would buy them enough time to come up with a more permanent solution.

Ned heard Peter shift behind him, then launch himself back up onto the bunk bed and out of sight.

More seconds.

“...Han got tortured,” Peter said, voice muffled. “And then locked in carbonite for months.”

Ned winced. It was a fair point.

“He got the girl, though. Think MJ’d let me kiss her?”

“Ned.”

“I’m kidding! Also I completely respect her both as your significant other and as an individual person, please don’t tell her I said that I don’t want to die.”

Something cracked loudly behind him, and by the time Ned spun the chair around Peter was looking morosely down at the splintered headboard between his hands.

“If you don’t want to die,” Peter said, and the anguish in his friend’s voice finally lowered Ned’s defenses, “then why won’t you just leave?”

Ned tapped his fingers uselessly against the base of his laptop, then abruptly closed the lid. Despite being Peter’s guy in the chair, this was the kind of thing that could only be handled in person.

“Scoot over,” he said, awkwardly clambering up onto the bed that could barely hold one of them, let alone both. But it had in the past, and he was confident it would again.

Peter shifted to the side of the wall to make room, all but squashing himself into the corner, and it was so spider-like Ned didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He settled for another sigh, and watched the seconds on the clock on the wall tick by.

It was only a matter of time before some excitable journalist—or worse—showed up at the Parker’s door, but they didn’t have anywhere else much safer until May or Happy called Peter back. He figured since they hadn’t, they were at least okay for now.

He waited until the muscles in Peter’s arms unwound, and Peter had successfully peeled himself off the corner, to speak.

“We’ve been best friends for ages,” he said, slowly. Unable to hide his own fear from coloring his voice. “If I were going to avoid getting used to hurt you or whatever, I probably needed to stop being your friend like, before high school years ago.”

Peter flinches. “You don’t have to be part of this, we can make it look like a huge fight, or like you didn’t know—”

“Peter,” Ned pressed, “how would me knowing or not knowing make me any less of a target? If I told you to hate me, could you do it?”

“No!”

The words shot out of Peter’s mouth faster than he could fire his webshooters, but he only understood their significance once they were in the air. Peter stared down at his wrists, as if he could see them written there.

“…I just don’t want to lose anyone else,” he said.

“Trust me when I say I don’t want to be lost.” Ned shuddered, then shrugged. “The way I see it, yeah, Han dies eventually. But he also doesn’t die until the trio breaks up, right? Luke’s halfway across the galaxy and Leia’s not much better. So Han dies when he’s alone. Maybe because he’s alone.”

The corner of Peter’s lip quirked up; the closest thing to a smile Ned had gotten so far. “Weren’t Rey and Finn—”

“Literally let me have this for once I feel like I’m making a really good point.”

Peter snorted, and that definitely counted as a win. Ned knocked his shoulder against Peter’s.

“What d’you say. No going Solo?”

Peter bit his lip, still wrestling with the guilt. Then he nodded.

“No going solo.”

#fictober20 #ned leeds #peter parker #fanfiction #spiderman #memsfic

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Five

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 13th, 2000

Remy resisted the urge to bang his head against the desk in boredom. His professor hated him, he knew all of this, and he couldn’t wait to get out of here so he could just chill in his dorm room, or maybe eat. He needed a break.

“Mister Picani?” the professor cut through his thoughts.

“Hm?” Remy asked, looking back to the front.

“Do you have the answer?” the professor asked impatiently.

“Depends on the question,” Remy replied.

The kids laughed, and the professor’s lips thinned into a line. “See me after class,” he said.

Remy sighed as the professor moved on. Bored and now in trouble, too.

Great.

January 20th, 2004

Remy did his best to give a stern glance to himself in the mirror, but only wound up wincing as he saw what he looked like. He was wearing a nice suit, complete with one of Emile’s non-cartoon-themed ties. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do today, but this look wasn’t cutting it.

“How you doing, Rem?” Emile asked from the edge of the bedroom.

“I feel like a monkey in a suit,” Remy said, gripping the ceramic counter and snarling at his reflection. “I don’t want to go into the school looking like this.”

“You know, you don’t have to impress your old business professor,” Emile pointed out. “Just because he asked you to answer some questions from the up-and-coming business students doesn’t mean that you have to deal with,” Emile gestured vaguely to Remy’s reflection. “This.”

Remy undid the tie and sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But can I really go in there with a blouse and slacks and expect to be taken seriously?”

Emile shrugged. “If you walk in there with confidence, probably,” he said. “Besides, most of the business students already look at you like you’re a celebrity. You’ve got this.”

Remy sighed and nodded, pulling the tie out of his collar. “You know what? You’re right. I’ll save the suits for weddings,” he said decisively. He stripped as he exited the bathroom, and was in nothing but his briefs by the time he went to the closet. He pulled out a pair of slacks that made him feel more cute than sophisticated, and pulled out that wild diagonal light-blue-and-purple blouse with all the ruffles. “Now this... this I can get behind.”

Emile snickered as Remy slid the blouse down his arms. “What?” Remy asked with an embarrassed blush.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Emile rushed to assure. “I just find it funny that your business professor is going to have to walk you into a classroom full of eager students, you dressed up in a blouse and those slacks that make your butt look fabulous, and admit that he failed to teach you and you still became successful.”

Remy absorbed that information, before offering Emile a shy grin. “Okay, you’re right, that’s kinda funny,” he admitted.

Emile grinned. “See? You’re gonna kill it, Rem. I know you, and I know enough about that class from you ranting to me about it when we were freshmen.”

“If you say so...” Remy said with a little shrug. “I don’t know about killing it, but I’m definitely going to make that professor red in the face, and that makes it all worth it.”

Emile kissed Remy’s cheek and helped him with the last button on the blouse, before leaving Remy to pull up the slacks. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked.

Remy nodded, and the two of them went downstairs, Emile cooking up the eggs while Remy made the toast, because Remy didn’t want to get any grease splatter on his nice blouse. They ate in the kitchen standing up, just like old times in their apartment, and Remy hummed. “You’re getting better at eggs, Emile, I gotta admit,” he said with a little grin.

“Thank you, I do try,” he said. “It’s not fair to make you make all the meals we have, after all, not with your job.”

Remy shrugged. “I don’t mind most days, but I see your point,” he allowed.

They went to the car and Remy fidgeted only a little. He was admittedly, worried. He was an out and proud gay man at the shop, but now? He wasn’t going to the shop, he was going to a college classroom full of freshmen, who weren’t as open and exposed to things like the LGBT community if they didn’t go looking for that. And it was a little scary, thinking that today, he was gonna have to show to these freshmen what gay and successful looked like. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was going to be making an impression on these kids.

“Hey, you’re gonna do great, Rem,” Emile reassured.

“I know,” Remy groaned. “It just...it sucks that I have to make an impression on these kids, while barely being more than a kid myself.”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. “I think if this becomes a regular thing, you’ll cringe at your first presentation eventually, but you’d get it done. You’re freaking amazing, Remy. I have no doubt that you’ll make a good impression. And if you have to make an impression, I’d prefer a good one to a bad one.”

Remy nodded, swallowing. They went to the college campus, and Remy’s ears were roaring as his heart pounded. It looked the same as ever, but it felt different to Remy, returning as not a student, not a ride, not a boyfriend, but a guest lecturer. “Oh, God,” he breathed.

Emile smiled, walking with him to the business building. “I’ve gotta get to my classes, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” Emile promised. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Remy said, getting a quick kiss from Emile before walking inside the business building.

He felt somewhat self conscious, dressed the way he was, but he walked down the hall until he saw his old professor, shaking his hand. “Good to see you again, Professor Fleming.”

“You too, Remy,” his old professor said. “You were one of my worst students, but also one of my favorites. I knew you could do something like this if only you applied yourself.”

“I guess you were right,” Remy said with a long-suffering sigh.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you,” Professor Fleming said with a smug grin.

“You heard me,” Remy grumbled.

“Nice to hear it, too,” he said. “Shall we go in? This will be all my business class students who are taking one hundred one level. I made sure you wouldn’t have to do this more than once over the course of the week.”

That made the whole prospect slightly more terrifying, but Remy nevertheless nodded. “Sure. May as well give it a shot.”

Professor Fleming walked in, and Remy followed behind him. The whole class quieted when they saw Remy, slouching against the professor’s desk in a bright blouse and dress pants. Remy could feel a slight heat building up in his ears. “Class, this is Remy Picani, the local store owner of Sleep Easy. Behave yourselves when you ask questions,” the professor said, giving the class a stern glance, before moving to sit in a seat in the front row of the classroom.

“Okay...right,” Remy said. “You all by now know my name, and most of you will probably forget it over the duration of the lecture. That’s okay, so long as you remember that I make a mean cuppa joe.” Ripples of laughter went through the class. Remy smiled, relaxing into a more natural pose. “Now, I want to make one thing abundantly clear: I am the exception, not the rule, okay? College isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine. But if you think you can drop out of college, start out on your own from nothing and become a successful business owner? Think again. I only got the property I did through my fiancé’s trust fund. And I only knew what I did about business because I read through all the books that were on the recommended reading list before I even went to college. So don’t look at me, go, ��If he can do it, why can’t I?’ and try to follow in my footsteps. Not least because of the fact that I value my position as the only small business café on Main Street.” More laughter. “But go on, fire away some questions. I don’t have a structure for these sorts of things, this is actually my first lecture. We’ll go about this process together.”

A hand went up and Remy pointed to the girl. “Exactly how much math goes into running a business?” she asked.

“More than I’d like,” Remy said, laughing. “No, but. In all seriousness, it’s a lot of math. Not only to keep track of sales versus costs, but also number of people each day, reviews, and cash flow. There’s... so much math. It’s exciting, in a daunting kind of way. Like, I had the sort of mind that could have been an accountant. I would have been bored to tears, but I could do those sorts of equations. And make no mistake: you have to be good with those sorts of things in order to get through the other side of business that no one talks about.”

Another hand, and Remy pointed at the guy. “What inspired you to start the business?”

“A string of bad luck and upper management not taking me seriously as potentially becoming one of them,” Remy replied. “They didn’t want me running a shop, even though I knew everything that went into it. So I made my own.”

Another. “Why are you wearing a blouse?”

Remy turned red as murmurs went through the classroom. The professor coughed. “Let’s stick to the business side of things, please,” he said.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll answer,” he said. “I feel more comfortable and confident in this blouse than I do wearing suits. And since I’m my own boss, I can do that sort of thing.”

The questions he answered were mostly business focused, but there was the occasional jab at his dress or his sexuality. It was no secret that he and Emile had their kiss published in the paper.

One hand went up, and Remy inwardly cringed, as he could see the silver cross dangling from her neck. “Yes?” he asked her.

“Is there anyone you don’t allow in your shop?” she asked.

Remy relaxed a little. “Sure. People who are mean to the staff don’t exactly get welcomed in my shop. And then there are the loiterers, who I have to shoo off from time to time. And of course, there’s the homophobes...”

“You don’t allow people who disagree with being gay in your store?” she asked. “Isn’t that bad for business?”

“It’s a college town, I manage,” Remy said with a weak smile.

“But you’re shutting them out for their religious beliefs,” the girl protested. “That’s discrimination.”

“Actually, it’s not. Because you can choose to be accepting of gay people. You can’t choose being gay. There’s a difference,” Remy pointed out. “So I don’t let homophobes who are blatantly homophobic in my shop. Of course, hanging up queer art around the place from local artists probably doesn’t endear my shop to them any.”

“But—”

“Kid, what’s your name?” Remy interrupted.

“Shirley. And I’m not a kid,” she huffed.

Remy shrugged. “Your mental development is years of difference from mine, so to me, you’re a kid. Look. You’re in college now. You’ll find that a lot of people around you will do things you don’t agree with. A lot of people will be things you were taught were bad. And they’re not. You don’t have to join in, you don’t have to be that if you don’t want to be. But your personal opinions shouldn’t dictate anybody else’s experience. I don’t allow homophobes in my shop because I’m gay. I don’t feel safe around them, and like I said, it’s a college town. I manage. But I really don’t want you walking away from this thinking you should discard everything I say because I’m a ‘sinner.’ I may be gay, but I’m also a business man. And those two may have overlap in some places, but by and large they don’t. So don’t dismiss me right off the bat. Sound good?”

The girl sank in her seat and shrugged. “Shirley, see me after the class, all right?” Professor Fleming said. “Thank you for being understanding, Remy, I’m sorry about that.”

“Hey, I’m always trying to educate when I get the chance,” Remy joked.

The rest of the lecture went off without a hitch, and when Emile came over to drop Remy off the keys to the car, Remy felt bold enough to kiss Emile’s cheek. Professor Fleming smiled. “Would you be willing to do this again next semester?” he asked.

“Absolutely!” Remy agreed.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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