#this is because I managed to have an interesting conversation with my uncles at dinner
Text
"I am going to get a good grade in ___________, a thing that is both normal to want and possible to achieve" drifts through my brain with positively alarming regularity.
#this is because I managed to have an interesting conversation with my uncles at dinner#and also I had Work Stuff to do in front of my mother and felt so so proud of myself#sometimes being human is very ridiculous.#celestial emporium of benevolent knowledge
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Volunteer Part 5
With Ty Lee and Haru there to help, sorting through the clothes was short work. To fill the rest of the time, they amused themselves with tossing teasing jabs at Zuko as they counted down to the end of their shift.
"Knock it off!" Zuko said, tossing a pair of balled up socks at Haru's head. "It's just dinner with a friend."
"There's a thin line between friend and friendlier," Haru snickered.
"You still have a few minutes, Zuko," Ty Lee pointed to the clock on the wall. "Don't you want to run a comb through your hair or something?" Zuko scowled at Ty Lee and reached up to touch his hair self-consciously. Ty Lee exchanged an annoyingly knowing look with Haru before guiding him out of the room.
"We should go," she stage whispered to Haru. "Zuko doesn't want us to know he cares about how he looks for Katara." Zuko found another pair of socks and threw them at Ty Lee. She only laughed harder when they hit her back, as she ushered Haru away. Zuko was still scowling after they were gone. He sniffed indignantly and picked up the socks he'd thrown, tossing them back into the pile of clothes to be washed. Then he went to the bathroom to straighten out his hair. He wore the Hama's Haven tee-shirt with an old, worn and paint spattered pair of jeans with his scuffiest sneakers. Not a great look, admittedly, but since this wasn't a date, it was fine, he thought. He made one final pass over his hair before he hurried out to meet Katara.
She was waiting in front of the building. Zuko skidded to a halt when he saw her. She had taken her hair down from it's usual braid, letting it fall all the way down her back in tumultuous waves. She also wore the light blue volunteer tee-shirt, but tucked into her jeans in a way that accentuated her soft curves. The dying light of twilight cast her in an ethereal glow, making her eyes seem to almost gleam when they landed on him. Zuko's mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. It wasn't fair for her to look this good after hours of working.
"You ready to go?" Katara asked, smiling up at him.
This was not a date.
"Yeah," Zuko managed to say. He led Katara to his car and opened her door for her.
"So gallant," she giggled. Zuko's face burned with embarrassment. He took a deep breath as he walked around to the driver's side and climbed in.
This was not a date.
Zuko was worried he'd have nothing to say for himself, but Katara started the conversation off and intentionally or not, never let it slow down. They spend the drive over talking about their day at the shelter. She asked about his new assignment, and apologized for it not being more exciting. Apologized that the work he was doing as punishment for a crime wasn't more engaging.
"I put you and Ty Lee down for the field trip next week," she told him. "I don't know if you'll find it interesting, but it sure won't be boring."
"When you say it like that it makes me think I should be nervous," Zuko chuckled. He chanced a look over at her and found her grinning wickedly.
"Maybe a little," she said. "But don't worry. The kids don't bite...often."
The noodle shop was a little hole-in-the-wall that Zuko had never heard of. It looked appropriately casual for two friends to have dinner after work. Still, Zuko hurried to Katara's door to open it for her, and he was pleased to see a faint blush on her bronzy cheeks.
"A girl could get used to that," she said. Zuko shrugged sheepishly and shut her door behind her.
"My uncle drilled it into me," he told her. "It's a hard habit to break. It's why I don't usually give rides in my car."
"Well, thanks for making an exception," Katara laughed.
They were seated immediately, and given menus. Katara set hers aside and took a drink from her water glass. Zuko must have looked confused because she winked conspiratorially.
"This is one of my favorite places in town," she said. "I could recite the menu in my sleep." Zuko hurried to make his own choice, and after the waiter had taken their orders, he scrambled for something half-way interesting to say.
"How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?" Zuko asked.
"Years," Katara told him. "My grandmother is one of the founders. It was actually named after a friend of my grandmother's."
"It was?"
"Yeah," Katara sighed and shook her head. "She never got to see it, though. Hama, that is. My grandma knew Hama before she moved here and married my grandfather. Gran-Gran said that she and Hama stayed in touch for a little while, but then...life happened. They reconnected a few years before Hama died, and life had been tough on her. I'll spare you the gory details, but...Hama could've used a place like the shelter. When my grandmother found her again, she was sick and homeless. Gran-Gran brought her here to live with her. After she died, Gran-Gran decided to honor her memory and started the shelter. My mom was a social worker, and she helped Gran-Gran get the shelter off the ground. My brother and I started out playing with the kids there.
"That's incredible," Zuko said. "I've been here long, but I can see how much of an impact the shelter has had. You've got to be proud of how much good your family's done."
"It's not just us," Katara said. "We've had so many volunteers and supporters helping us- helping my grandmother- make Hama's Haven happen. But, you know that. Your uncle's been one of our biggest doners since it opened."
"What?" Zuko sat up.
"Didn't you know?" Katara frowned at that. "I thought you were close. I thought you knew that was why Iroh asked the judge to assign you guys here." Zuko shook his head.
"I...I haven't spoken to my uncle in a while," he admitted. "We were close, and I know he did a lot of work with community outreach, but I never knew the specifics."
"Oh..."Katara bit her lip and looked away awkwardly. "I've met your uncle. He's a nice guy."
"Yeah," Zuko agreed with a mirthless chuckle. "He's great."
"He's really proud of you, you know." Zuko flinched at that. He was certain that Iroh was proud of him. Once.
"I miss him," Zuko admitted. Then to his surprise, Katara reached across the table and squeezed his hands.
"Talk to him," she said. "I don't know what happened, but if you talk to him about it, I'm sure you can work it out." Dumbstruck, all Zuko could do was nod. Fortunately, he was spared having to say a word by the arrival of their food.
This was not a date!
Thankfully the subject changed once the meal had arrived. Zuko learned about Katara's family (like him, she had lost her mother young. Unlike him, she had a wonderful support system in her father and brother); her plans for college (she wanted to continue her grandmother and mother's work in community outreach and social justice); what she liked to do in her free time (she keeps incredibly busy between after school activities and the center, but she was an avid ice skater, hiker and had started taking scuba lessons). Zuko found her fascinating. She was nothing like the stuck up brown noser he and his sister had been certain she was.
She asked about Zuko, too, but aside from school and a couple of extracurriculars, he had little to say about himself. He didn't want to talk about his family, and he was grateful when Katara didn't pry. He was in such a good mood that he offered to cover their meal when the bill came.
"Alright," Katara relented after all her protests had been shot down. "But this means that dessert is on me."
"Dessert?" Zuko repeated.
"There's an ice cream shop around the corner that makes the most amazing flavors," Katara told him. "Things you'd never have even thought of. It's my favorite place in the city." Zuko raised his brow and smirked at her.
"I thought this was your favorite place in the city."
"It's my favorite noodle spot," Katara said, rolling her eyes. "I'm allowed to have more than one favorite spots."
"That's not how favoritism works," Zuko chuckled.
"You have your definition, I have mine," Katara shrugged. She slid out of her seat and tugged at Zuko's arm. "Come on!"
The ice cream shop was a bit further away than Katara had let on. It was nearly half a mile from where Zuko had left his car, but the night was nice. After they'd gotten their ice cream (paid for by Katara at her insistence), they walked back slowly. The ice cream was as good as Katara had promised. Zuko had gotten a cone of spicy mango and chocolate, and Katara had gotten sweet corn and cheesecake, a combination she swore was delicious.
"Here," she said, holding her up towards Zuko. "Try it." Zuko hesitated, but gingerly scraped his spoon down the side. To his surprise, Katara was right.
"Wow!" he said.
"Don't ever doubt me."
"Never again," Zuko swore. When Katara held up her cup again, he took another scoop, before offering her a taste of his.
"Mmm!" Katara said, nodding her head. "I don't usually like spicy, but this is just the right amount of heat."
They sat on a bench halfway back to Zuko's car to finish their treats. Zuko surprised himself by telling a few jokes that actually made Katara laugh. He liked her laugh. He never thought that a laugh could be attractive, but Katara's was. It was a bit wild, like someone who's never been given a reason to be self-conscious about her laugh. Who was used to laughing long and loud. When she laughed hard enough, she snorted, which was Zuko's favorite.
Finally, they finished their ice cream and headed back to Zuko's car. It was late, and Hakoda would expect her home soon. They weren't hurried, though. They took long enough that Zuko had time to work up the nerve to ask something he was certain would ruin the night.
"Was this a date?"
Katara's footsteps faltered, then slowed. She kept her gaze studiously on her feet. Her jaw rolled from side to side, as if she were weighing her next words carefully on her tongue, working out how to let them out in a way that wouldn't kill their nascent friendship. Zuko felt the blood rush to his face, and he started to back track. There had to be a way to take his words back and return to the easy camaraderie they'd found that evening. Katara beat him to the punch, though.
"If I said yes," she said slowly, "would you be okay with that?" Zuko froze mid-step. Katara stopped and looked back at him. The expression on her face was mix of nervousness, shyness and frankness. There was no amusement. No sparkle in her eye to mark what she'd just said as a joke. Zuko managed to wrestle control of his tongue.
"Yeah," he said. "I'd be okay with that." Katara considered him for a moment. Then she smiled at him, and slipped her hand into his. It fit so well, as if it was always meant for him to hold.
"The weather is getting nice," she observed, leaning into him. "We'll be able to start turning the garden soon. Maybe we can put you on that."
"That sounds nice," Zuko murmured. His heart thudded in his chest. He thought that his answer would've been the same even if she'd suggested he clean out the dumpsters behind the building with a toothbrush.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
I was creating an Excel spreadsheet with ideas for some Hannigram and Weyler one-shots I wanted to write for the upcoming months. When I reached December, my head got filled with fanfic ideas centered around "White Christmas" theme, but there's a tiny little problem: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A "WHITE CHRISTMAS" IS.
Let me explain, where I live, December is summer, specifically in my hometown (not where I currently live, as I moved to another province for university), and it tends to reach 45°C, which is about 113°F in Fahrenheit. In other words, it's scorching hot, and there's nothing "white" about it. My Christmases are spent having a barbecue dinner at my grandma's place, which is a farmhouse outside the town of Tafi Viejo, in Tucumán. We sit about 4 meters away from the table, and there's a pool where we go to refresh ourselves every 20 minutes because our bodies sweat like crazy in the heat. After eating the barbecue and the additional 50 dishes brought by all the guests, we have Pan Dulce and sweet treats (candied peanuts, chocolates, nougat, "mantecol," and the best homemade Dulce de Leche ice cream). Then comes the toast, and we distract the kids with fireworks bought by the neighbors because my family doesn't spend money on fireworks. While the children are entertained with that, my uncle Andres dresses up as Santa Claus, and we place the gifts under the poorly decorated Christmas tree. We then open the presents, and as you grow older, receiving a bag of socks becomes a fortunate gift, as the Argentine economy is tight. That's a typical Christmas in Argentina.
Don't think that Argentinians don't celebrate; it's just that we do celebrate Christmas, but we don't make big plans. It's more about getting together with family and friends to have dinner and share. Come on the 25th of May or the 9th of July, or even during Carnivals. We love celebrations, but our Christmas isn't exactly white, starting with the fact that there's no snow, not even by chance.
I'm going to create headcanon where Hannigram and Weyler are Argentinians, popular, and patriotic.
This is my headcanon for my Argentinean versions of Hannigram:
In an alternate scenario, during a peaceful and picturesque Christmas, the mastermind of cannibalism, Hannibal Lecter, and the empathetic yet tormented detective, Will Graham, find a temporary and fascinating truce as they embark on an Argentinean barbecue in the midst of the holiday season. Both have put their usual disputes and problems aside, at least for the moment, and have decided to share a unique culinary experience.
Hannibal, always a lover of fine cuisine, cannot help but be intrigued by the tradition of the Argentinean barbecue. Though accustomed to refined and elaborate dishes, he is drawn to the simplicity and artistry behind the barbecue. He delights in the idea of savoring top-quality cuts of meat, perfectly cooked on a grill. As he watches the expert grill masters prepare the meat, his eyes shine with genuine interest and appreciation for the skill of the Argentinean cooks.
Will, on the other hand, has always been a man of simple tastes and a more tranquil nature. Although not as enthusiastic about meat as Hannibal, he appreciates the cultural and social connection surrounding the Argentinean barbecue. He immerses himself in the relaxed and friendly atmosphere around the grill and enjoys the sense of community that this tradition fosters.
As the hours pass and the meats slowly cook, Hannibal and Will share deep and sincere conversations while enjoying the exquisite meals. Hannibal, always the skilled manipulator, finds in Will an unexpected companion, someone with whom he can share thoughts and emotions without fear of being judged for his darker nature. Will, on the other hand, finds a strange sense of peace and understanding in Hannibal's presence, an intellectual connection that, in some way, he comes to comprehend and accept.
Both are surprised by the harmony they manage to find during this special evening. For a moment, they set aside their roles of hunter and hunted, and simply become two individuals sharing an unusual yet wonderful moment in their lives.
This is my headcanon for my Argentinean versions of Weyler:
Wednesday Addams, the charming and dark girl from the Addams family, lives in the old Gothic church in Recoleta, Autonomous City of Buenos Aires. Despite the unusual appearance and gloomy atmosphere of her home, Wednesday finds beauty in the darkness and peculiarity that surrounds her. She is a clever young woman, with a sharp wit and a fascination for the macabre and the strange.
On the other hand, Tyler, the boy from Cululú, is kind and gentle, and he is the son of the town's police commissioner. Although his life in Cululú is more peaceful and conventional, he is drawn to the mysterious aura of Wednesday and her family. When they met, Wednesday found in Tyler a light in her darkness, while he found in her a sense of excitement and adventure he had never experienced before.
Despite the differences in their worlds, Wednesday and Tyler discovered that they share a strange connection and a unique way of seeing life. Christmas in Cululú became a special occasion for them as they were able to blend Argentinean holiday traditions with the dark and enchanting touch of the Addams family.
In Cululú, Wednesday and Tyler participated in the typical celebrations, but with a distinctive twist. They decorated the main square with gothic ornaments and candles instead of bright lights, and they enjoyed a Christmas dinner with exquisite dishes with sinister yet delicious names.
In this way, Christmas in Cululú becomes a unique and enriching experience for everyone involved, with a charming blend of Argentinean traditions and the dark and peculiar touch of the Addams family. Together, they share laughter, adventures, and a special connection that transcends their differences and enriches their lives in a truly special and unique way.
I can't believe how much I'm laughing at this silliness I just created.
#hannibal lecter#will graham#will x hannibal#hannibal x will#hannigram#hanibal#tyler galpin#wednesday addams#wednesday and tyler#wednesday x tyler#tyler x wednesday#wednesday netflix#headcanon#weyler#wyler
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Thanksgiving in Literature
Narrator: It was a crisp evening and interesting... fellows gathered at the dinner table to share in the festivities of Thanksgiving. God sat at the head of the table while his brother sat opposite him. Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Bennet sat calmly next to each other and faced Ghost Hamlet and Claudius. Mrs. Bennet glanced over at the kid's table in the back corner. The flickering light of a fake candle at the kid's table was driving Hamlet crazy, while the Creature looked anxious about this new bright light.
Hamlet: This light is infuriating. It's giving but the most unpleasant of headaches.
Creature: *Grumbles*
Hamlet: What need have I to celebrate? I'd rather not. This food should barely be considered digestible.
Creature: *Grumbles in confusion as he grabs food by the handful*
Hamlet: I suppose you're not picky. Maybe that's for the best.
Creature: *Grumbles in agreement*
Hamlet: You know what's repulsive? Sitting at the kid's table with you.
Creature: *Grumbles sadly*
Hamlet: Not that I don't enjoy your company.
Creature: *Grumbles happily*
Hamlet: I'd rather sit by your side than theirs. I just simply cannot understand how we can't be trusted with a real candle! Those mammering idiots.
Creature: *Grumbles understandably*
Hamlet: To be fair, I'd rather sit with Satan than mine own Uncle.
Creature: *Grumbles in confusion*
Hamlet: He murdered my father in cold blood! And God had the audacity to seat my Dad and my Uncle side by side.
Creature: *Grumbles angrily*
God: *Whispers* Shhh, I think they're talking about us.
Satan: *Whispers* I think it's just you.
Hamlet: And you know what? Claudius' words won't dain to trespass my wit. His actions shant dig into my vessel called my body and I shall rise like God above it. Just because the mere sight of his face makes me want to end my life with my sheef. His words were once a sword waiting to pierce my tender heart, are now like a harlot to an honest man. Maybe I should give him a glare, what say we?
Creature: *Grumbles in agreeance*
Narrator: Meanwhile, the adults are listening in on their conversation, as sound travels far in the empty void between Heaven and Hell.
Ghost Hamlet: I just don't understand why you would even dare think about killing me.
Claudius: Power.
Ghost Hamlet: But don't you feel guilty? I'm your brother for God's sake.
God: He's right, it is for my sake.
Claudius: Power makes me feel better.
Ghost Hamlet: Hey, God. Has he repented his sins?
God: Kinda? I didn't accept it.
Claudius: To be fair, I realized that he can't accept it.
Ghost Hamlet: What do you mean?
Claudius: Well, I'm not sorry and I like having the power. So I can't repent.
Hamlet: Good to know the ass is self-aware.
Creature: *Laughs loudly and slams his hand on the table, spilling some food*
Mrs. Bennet: Mr. Bennet can you believe this tomfoolery? This commoner can't even keep his food on the table. I think I have a little bit on my cheek.
Mr. Bennet: I think you look better with it than without.
Mrs. Bennet: MR. BENNET!
Satan: For the love of all things that are holy, make her screeching cease! It's enough to torture a thousand humans.
Mrs. Bennet: Good heavens, well thank God I'm going to Heaven.
Satan: About that...
Mrs. Bennet: MR.SATAN HOW COULD YOU! I am a woman of the utmost upstanding character! God should agree that HEAVEN is where my soul should rest!
Satan: *Aside to God* Should we tell her that she's being used as a torture device and is not in fact the sould being tortured.
God: No, I think she'll find it torturous for herself regardless.
*Mrs. Bennet continues improv rambling*
Mr. Bennet: My dear you are truly incredible, only you could manage to put that look of disgust on the face of God.
*Mrs. Bennet does that thing where you can't tell if she's gasping, yelling or crying*
Hamlet: What a pitiful woman.
Creature: *Grumbles slightly confused*
Hamlet: To be such a poor soul, so unaware of one's own flaws. The obscene arrogance that she has lived with should surely be the source of her eternal damnation. I pluck my own eyes from their sockets before I akin myself to the likes of her.
Creature: *concerned grumbling while looking away from the food*
Hamlet: The plucking of my eyes was hyperbolic in nature, I assure you.
Creature: *relieved grumbling as he returns to his food*
Narrator: God snapped his fingers, interrupting the conversations and bickering about the table, and dinner was served at the adult table.
Hamlet: This food is horrid. I hate Thanksgiving.
God: This food is one of my creations.
Creature: *Grunts at God*
Hamlet: You're right, why do they get better food than us? Are we not human, too?
Mrs. Bennet: *Slyly chuckles at that comment*
Mr. Bennet: What's so funny?
Mrs. Bennet: It's arguable that some of us are human.
Creature: *Looks up. Concerned look with food in mouth*
Claudius: Just because I murdered one man doesn't mean -
Mrs. Bennet: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MURDERED SOMEONE?!?
Mr. Bennet: Oh come on dearie, everyone's murdered someone at some point.
Satan: Preach!
God: Oh, now it's okay to preach.
Satan: I always preach evil. Come on, you should know this by now.
God: True, but there were holy implications there. You know, the connotation of "preach" and church.
Satan: Yeah I get it, bro. *Rolls eyes*
God: Why did I listen to mom, I shouldn't have invited you, you're such a disappointment to the family.
Satan: If not me who would torture the sinners then? You're too good for that! Mommy's favorite.
God: *Sighs*
Ghost Hamlet: Ugh, every time I eat, food just passes through my body! This is so embarrassing.
Claudius: *Laughs*
Ghost Hamlet: I hope this knife stabs! *Throws fork*
Claudius: Oh is that the best you've got? *Throws knife*
God: Don't make me send you to the children's table, or back to Hell!
Mr. Bennet: My dear, I think you have mashed potatoes and beets in your hair.
Mrs. Bennet: NOOO! I'll look like a bright pink harlot if the pink stains my hair!
Creature: *Grumbles sorry*
Mrs. Bennet: Ahhhh! Mr. Bennet! How will you love me with this hair?
Mr. Bennet: I don't know truly. I think you should do something about it.
Mrs. Bennet: You're right! *Throws peas*
God: Did you just throw some peas at that poor Creature?
Satan: Do it again.
Creature: *Grumbles offendedly*
Mr. Bennet: My dear you shouldn't throw food, but I'll shove mashed potatoes in your face.
Mrs. Bennet: MR. BENNET! YOU KNOW MY NERVES!
Narrator: Meanwhile, back at the kid's table.
Hamlet: I will sling arms against thy perpetrators for mine new friend.
Hamlet: Hey, what's your name again?
Creature: *Blinks in silence*
Hamlet: Okay, keep your secrets. I know you have a dark past.
Hamlet: I do too you know. I get it.
Hamlet: Anyways, let this turkey that's drier than the Sahara desert hit thy enemies and destroy thy lives! HURRAH!
Creature: *Grumbles and happily claps*
Satan: What is this peasant food? *Wipes face, then looks at hands* WHO THE HELL HIT ME WITH TURKEY?
Hamlet: You know aim has never been my forte...
Satan: YOU! It was you? For someone who wants death all the time, you really want to go to the depths of hell. Well, let me bring it to you faster. *Burns the food and sets the table on fire* Is that enough for you?
God: Aw, he's throwing another tantrum.
Satan: Silence! I will destroy everything you love.
Ghost Hamlet: Start with Claudius!
Claudius: Okay, you need to get over it. You're dead.
Ghost Hamlet: You literally killed me.
Mrs. Bennet: Mr. Bennet, hold me! I'm going to perish!
Mr. Bennet: You're already dead.
Hamlet: To be, or not to be: that is the question: →And by opposing end them?
All: *Screams as room explodes*
Narrator: And thus, thanksgiving was permanently on hold. For eternity.
1255 Words
1 note
·
View note
Text
you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]
summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model
word count: 2.4k
tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers
It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.
You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.
You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.
You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.
He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.
You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.
"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.
You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.
The whole school knew, naturally.
"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.
"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.
"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.
"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.
You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.
Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.
"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."
You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.
"Uh..."
"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.
"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.
"It's charcoal."
"What?"
"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."
He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.
It didn't matter.
"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."
You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."
"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"
"... You want the drawing?"
"I'd love it, if that's okay."
"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."
He handled it with care.
The librarian jingled her little bell again.
"Thank you. So, see you?"
"Yep," you agreed.
He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.
-
You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.
You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.
When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.
He looked much too brunette.
You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.
Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.
Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...
You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.
The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.
In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.
"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.
You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.
"Hi, dolly."
"Weasley."
"Oh, not even a first name?"
"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.
"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.
"Hi, Weasley."
He smirked.
"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"
"Nah. You never stand still."
"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.
He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.
His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.
You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.
You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.
After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.
Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.
"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."
"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."
Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."
You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."
"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."
You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."
"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."
You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.
"Thank you."
He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."
"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."
"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.
You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.
"What's in the box?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.
It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.
"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.
"It's a memory box."
"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."
You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.
"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."
"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"
"Not on your life."
"They're perfectly edible!"
"Sure, Fred."
-
The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.
"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"
"They thought you were sleeping!"
A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.
It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?
Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.
"Is it a prank?"
"You're thinking too small."
"A new product?"
"Still need to go bigger!"
"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.
"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."
"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.
"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."
"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"
Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."
"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.
"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."
"This is goodbye?"
"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"
"What do you want to ask me?"
Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.
"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.
"You will?"
"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.
Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.
He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.
"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.
"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.
Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"
You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.
He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."
Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."
#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley#fred#fred weasly x reader#sad reader#reader insert#artist reader#fred weasley fluff#sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit#why woukd they do that
690 notes
·
View notes
Text
Foolish
Frank Adler x fem!Reader
Word count: 5027 (oop)
Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:
Frank Adler
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
Breeding / mutual pining 🥴
I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️
If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)
Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.
Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.
Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.
She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.
With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.
“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”
You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.
He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.
Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.
“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”
Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”
Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”
You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”
“And?” he looked at her expectantly.
“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”
You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.
Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”
Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.
You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.
You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.
“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.
“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”
Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.
He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.
You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”
Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”
And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.
The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.
Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.
You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.
Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.
Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.
You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.
“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.
“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”
You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”
You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”
The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”
“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.
Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.
“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.
“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.
“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”
You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“
“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.
You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?
Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.
He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.
Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.
The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.
Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.
Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”
“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.
He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”
You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.
“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”
“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”
You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”
You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.
“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.
You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”
He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.
Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.
“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”
You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.
The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.
“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.
You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”
You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.
You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”
He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”
You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.
You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.
He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.
The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.
“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”
“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”
He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”
“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”
“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.
“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.
“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.
He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”
“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”
“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.
“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.
You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.
You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.
“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.
He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”
You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.
“You’re evil.”
Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”
His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”
“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.
“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.
“What if I told you I felt the same way?”
He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.
You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.
Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.
“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”
You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.
#shamelesshoesforchris2021#maggie's writing#frank adler#frank adler x fem!reader#frank adler fluff#frank adler smut
455 notes
·
View notes
Text
albeluc headcanons because i saw a post on instagram and i can’t stop thinking about it (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
♡︎ ♡︎ ♡︎
- the reason they meet (like, actually hold a conversation) in the first place is because klee tried to steal diluc’s greatsword and albedo has the misfortune of having to return it (“let me see what you have-“ “a SWORD!” “NO”)
- albedo recalls that diluc used to be a knight, but diluc has no recollection of ever seeing albedo
- albedo often stops by the winery after his dragonspine visits and brings with him all sorts of interesting memorabilia (which diluc tends to keep in a specific box marked with “DO NOT OPEN”, along with letters and such)
- neither of them are really touchy/cuddly, so it’s more a relationship in the sense of “we mutually trust each other and enjoy each other’s company. i would trust you with my life and everything i own. oh also we kiss every now and then”
- diluc commissions albedo to paint portraits for the winery :D
- if albedo isn’t busy he’ll sneak off and work in diluc’s office. they don’t talk but they enjoy being in each other’s company
- adeline (adelinde?? i forgor how to spell her name 💀) often brings them snacks and such when they’re working together
- diluc has a spare room just for him, when he decides to stay over
- when diluc decides to come into mondstadt proper occasionally, he and albedo always end up taking klee out for the day and that’s how klee stops calling him “mr. weird grown-up” (and starts calling him uncle diluc)
- diluc has tried to visit him in dragonspine but always ends up leaving after a couple minutes because he hates the cold. eventually (after procuring metric tons of blankets and upgrading his campfire to a bonfire) albedo manages to get him to stay for more than 5 minutes
- albedo and lisa enjoy talking about how jean and diluc used to date each other when they were younger (lisa has PLENTY of photos that she’s glad to share) and how funny it is that the “nerds“ ended up with the girl/boy
- jean and diluc once walked in on them doing this. they were MORTIFIED to say the least lol
- on the trip to the archipelago they pretty much talked the entire way there. razor didn’t care but kaeya was like “damn. third wheeling again.”
- albedo managed to get diluc to come to a formal knights dinner party. kaeya teased them relentlessly and the night almost ended in him getting beat down by diluc but albedo managed to stop it lol
- out of the two albedo is the stronger one (nonhuman strength and all). he can pretty much carry diluc with one arm (and does so frequently, esp. when he falls asleep at his desk)
- they like to watch sunrises at windrise sometimes. that is all
♡︎ ♡︎ ♡︎
anyways, i hope you enjoyed this ^_^ it was really fun to write :D please be respectful about this btw!! this was just for fun and i don’t really want to get attacked for it LOL
#my otp is still xiaobedo/albexiao#but albeluc hits different#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact ships#genshin ships#genshin impact headcanon#genshin headcanon#albedo#diluc#genshin albedo#genshin diluc#genshin impact albedo#genshin impact diluc#albeluc
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Friday Saturday Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia
Word count: 5,138
After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.
After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today.
As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.”
“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”
You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”
You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”
He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?”
Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”
While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him.
“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”
That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”
“Do you have any blackmail?”
Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.”
“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”
You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice.
“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”
“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”
“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”
“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”
“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”
“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”
Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”
“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”
The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit.
By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat.
Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up.
After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.
Hales : )
(Y/n), I’m omw to your house
Gonna give you a ride to the school
(Y/n)
Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive
Hales : )
Don’t care
Omw, be there in like 7 mins
You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat
(Y/n)
I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one
She’s gonna give me a ride home too
Dadza
Alright, thank her for me
Tell her I said good luck too!
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do
Dadza
(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Fuck you I’m a good influence
Dadza
You’re really not
Wilby
^^^^
Technology Sword
^
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Fuck all of you
You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.
“Coat.”
You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”
“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”
Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”
“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”
Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back.
“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”
“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face.
“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”
You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”
You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”
The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable.
Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time.
When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team.
The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.
“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”
“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”
“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”
“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”
The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike. “HALEY NOW!”
You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!”
“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”
“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”
“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”
You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them.
The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black.
“...(y……”
“..(y/n)......”
“(Y/n).”
You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.
“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.
“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.
“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?
“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.
“Who th f-fuck… why?”
“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.
“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”
“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”
“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”
“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”
Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”
“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”
Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.
“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”
“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”
“Good, what month are we in right now?”
“Nov-November?”
“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”
“S’my dad Phillip.”
“That’s your dad Philza.”
The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop.
“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”
Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.
“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”
“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.
She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them.
“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against.
“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.
“Tech?”
“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”
When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym.
“S’better.”
“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”
“Wilbs-”
“Focus on walking.”
You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”
You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”
When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.”
You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle?
After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”
“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.
“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”
They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you?
“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up.
“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”
“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”
“Mm. Makes sense.”
“Let’s get you in the car hun.”
As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner.
When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”
“Car.”
After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you.
“(Y/n), what do you remember?”
You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”
You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”
“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”
“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”
After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.
“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”
“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”
As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.
For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.”
“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”
The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”
“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”
“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”
You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@jabby16
Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks @sugarandspicebutnonice @coolayee @haikkeiji @sadassflatass
@a-simp-for-block-people @goldenstarofthunderclan @laura--444 @sylumarts @faceache111 @auroraskyfall @kusuinko @http-issaclahey @angelic-scent @multifandomgirl94 @mirios-sunflower @lifestylesleep @altwitchtrash @queenbouncingjelly @eieminia @livie-bug82108 @cheybaee @demure--daisy @midnight-storm @moonbaejpeg @kiinokochii @miavfx @vilbur-s00t @coreybyrg @comfytastic @kodababygirl-blog @artisticfandomtrash @yourlmanburg @indigopocky @futuitsursum @luluwinchester @hello-there556 @kike-jii @kalipto
#sbi x reader#sleepy bois x reader#sleepy bois inc x reader#sleepy bois inc au#platonic#sister reader#philza x reader#jschlatt x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#tubbo x reader#tommyinnit x reader#high school au#toxic friends#tw: panic attack#tw: swearing#tw: anxiety#tw: toxic friends#tw: concussion#tw: injury#tw: vomit#tw: homophobia#tw: bullying
987 notes
·
View notes
Note
For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.
How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?
ao3
“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”
“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”
Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.
“Okay,” he said.
Nie Huaisang frowned at him.
“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”
“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”
Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”
“Never mind what I said!”
Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.
Nie Huaisang grumbled.
“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”
Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”
“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”
“…books.”
“Yep, books.”
Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”
“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.
“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”
“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”
“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”
“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”
“I need all of them.”
Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”
“I need all of them. For reasons.”
“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”
“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.
“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”
“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”
“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”
“I…are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”
“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”
Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.
Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!
Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.
“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”
“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”
“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.
Later that evening, he followed up on his word.
“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.
“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.
“…why not?”
“You just – can’t!”
“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”
Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”
“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”
“…you don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.��
“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.
“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”
“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”
“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”
“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”
“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”
“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”
Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.
“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”
“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”
“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”
Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.
That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”
Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.
“Huaisang! What are you doing?”
“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”
Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –
“Fish?”
“Tentacles.”
“People want to fuck fish?”
“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”
“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”
“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”
“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”
“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”
Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.
“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.
“Da-ge, I have a question.”
Nie Mingjue sat back down.
“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.
“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”
“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”
“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”
“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”
Nie Mingjue smirked at him.
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”
“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”
“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”
“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.
No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.
“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”
“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”
“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”
“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”
“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”
“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”
“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”
“Gross! No!”
“– or with all sorts of diseases –”
“Da-ge!”
“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”
“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”
“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”
Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”
Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.
Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!
402 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damen/Laurent, drunken love confession
Canon divergent AU. Dialogue prompt taken from this list.
-
“I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so... I like it. Can I touch it?”
Damen grabbed Laurent’s wrist to hold him back. “Laurent, you’re drunk.”
The sound that left Laurent was something in between a hiccup and a giggle. “Yes,” he said, “I think so.” Another laugh. “I have no tolerance for alcohol whatsoever.”
Damen had figured that. Over the years, he’d never seen Laurent have more than a single glass of wine to go with dinner, which more often than not he either didn’t even touch at all, or only took one or two sips from out of politeness. All the griva Makedon had poured into him this evening was probably double the amount of alcohol Laurent had previously had in his entire life.
“I should have warned you about Makedon.” After all, Damen knew well how Makedon liked to challenge young men—and boys who thought themselves young men—to a competition of who could drink the most of his uncle’s home brewed griva. The first time Damen had had a taste of it himself, he’d been fifteen and full of bravado. Nikandros, then eighteen and already acquainted with, in his words, that ‘disgusting swill’, had tried to talk him out of it, but the only thing that had been able to wisen him up had been the hangover he’d had the next morning.
However, Damen hadn’t thought Makedon would approach Laurent tonight during the feast; he’d made it no secret since the Veretian delegation had arrived last week that he wasn’t much impressed with what he’d seen of Vere’s second prince. And even if Makedon did approach Laurent, Damen had thought Laurent’s only answer would have been a single raised eyebrow and a haughty insult about Akielon choices of drink.
Yet, when the feast had already made its way well into the late hours of the evening, and Damen had assumed Laurent to have retired already to escape the drunk and bawdy crowd, Nikandros had sought out Damen and Auguste and told them that they might want to intervene before Laurent and Makedon decided there was still enough time left this evening to go hunting together.
“Exalted!” Makedon had yelled when he’d spotted Damen.
They’d been just in time to see Makedon and Laurent down another cup of griva each, and as Makedon had addressed Damen he’d slapped Laurent on the back and told him, “I like this one!” He’d briefly looked at Auguste, then turned back to Damen and had said, shielding one side of his mouth with a conspiratorial hand but still speaking at the same loud volume, “He drinks much better than his brother.”
When Auguste had visited Akielos two years prior, he’d only managed to drink two cups of griva before giving up, claiming that if he tried to force one more drop down his throat, he was going to retch. Laurent, on the other hand, had clearly drunk much more than that. Damen had doubted he’d be able to walk in a straight line, much less up a flight of stairs, so when Auguste had managed to convince Laurent to retire for the night, Damen had offered to help him to his rooms.
Now, as they were standing alone in an empty hallway, Laurent pulled his hand free from Damen’s grip, and tried to touch his face again.
“Laurent,” Damen sighed. He moved his hands away from him again. “You don’t like my face. It’s just the alcohol talking, and tomorrow you’ll regret this.”
Laurent shook his head. “I have liked your face since I was thirteen.”
“No, you’ve thought my face is stupid since you were thirteen.”
Since their countries had come to a tentative peace six years ago, Damen had visited Vere every other summer. Each visit, Laurent would find new and more creative ways to insult Damen, although his opinion would never drop low enough to stop him from constantly trailing behind Auguste and Damen as they went about their day.
“Your face is stupid,” Laurent said. “You have holes in your cheeks when you smile.”
Damen laughed.
“See?” Laurent poked his finger into Damen’s cheek. “There’s holes.”
“And it’s stupid,” Laurent continued, “because you never, ever would look at me the way I wanted you too.”
“And how was that?” Damen asked.
“Like I wasn’t a child!”
“Laurent,” Damen said. “You were a child.”
”I—well, yes,” Laurent permitted. “But I’m not a child anymore.”
No, he wasn’t. Damen was very aware of that. Last year had been quite the surprise. It had been two years since he’d last seen Laurent at the time, when he’d still been in the last awkward stages of puberty, and he hadn’t been prepared at all for the young man who had greeted him.
“And yet, you still won’t look at me with any sense of interest.” Laurent was pouting now.
“I thought you wouldn’t want me to look at you like that.” Laurent had never had any kind words for potential suitors, so Damen had done his best to not let his thoughts wander in such directions. He hadn’t always succeeded, but at least he’d been able to hide from Laurent what kind of effect he could have on Damen now that he was an adult.
“I do want you to look at me like that.” Laurent’s cheeks turned red as he continued, “And I want you to do more than just look.”
Damen did look at Laurent now, making no attempt to hide what those words did to him.
Laurent stepped closer to him, until there were only inches between them, resting one hand on Damen’s bicep and the other against his chest. He moved his gaze down from Damen’s eyes and focused it on his lips in expectation.
Damen curled his arm around Laurent’s waist, and redirected him back to his original position at Damen’s side. He picked up their pace again and pulled Laurent along with him in the direction of the guest chambers. “Let’s get you put to bed, shall we? We can continue this conversation tomorrow after you’ve recovered from the hangover you’ll be sure to have.”
Laurent dug his heels in. “Why can’t we do this now?”
He was pouting again, and Damen felt helpless. He lifted his hand to brush a blond lock of hair behind Laurent’s ear. “Because it’s better for us to have this discussion when you’re sober. Besides,” he let his gaze take on a more intense quality again as he looked at Laurent, “kissing you when you’re wont to not even remember it the next day would be a waste.”
#captive prince#laurent of vere#damianos of akielos#ficlet#my writing#mine#i didnt mean for this to be a thousand words#but well here we are#i love drunk laurent#and i love damen being his honorable self when dealing with him#so i should really have expected this
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
All About The Chase - F.W.
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending,
A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.
message to be added to tags :)
When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.
The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.
Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.
Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.
A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.
Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.
As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.
Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.
A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.
Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.
“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.
“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.
Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.
“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.
Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.
“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.
“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back.
“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it.
“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”
“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.
“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.
“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.
“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.
“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.
“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”
“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”
“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”
“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.
Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”
Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.
“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”
Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.
“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly.
“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”
“Well, if you’re offering—”
“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”
Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips.
Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.
-
It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.
To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.
It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.
“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”
“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”
Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.
“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.
“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.
Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.
“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.
“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”
Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.
“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.
“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”
Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.
-
When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.
Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.
Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.
“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.
“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”
At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.
“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”
“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”
Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.
“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes.
“But, you’re missing dinner…”
“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”
While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.
“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”
Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side.
They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.
Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.
They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.
Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.
“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.
“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”
“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”
“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.
“And who’s she?”
“Glinda, the good witch.”
“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress
“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”
“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her.
“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.
“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.
At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.
“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”
“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”
“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”
It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.
“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”
“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.
Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.
The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.
“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.
Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.
The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.
“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”
Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.
“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.
Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.
-
When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl.
“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.
“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”
Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.
After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.
Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.
Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.
“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.
“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”
And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.
-
A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.
“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”
She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.
“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.
“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes.
“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.
“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.
“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”
“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.
“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”
Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.
“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”
Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.
“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”
Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.
“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”
And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.
-
When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.
“Hello, love—”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”
Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.
“I don’t know what—”
“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”
After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”
“But—”
“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”
“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”
“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”
Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.
“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”
In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.
“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”
“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically.
“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.
“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”
The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.
When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.
-
Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.
Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.
TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15
787 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please, I must know about your Addams Family AU, my curiosity keeps me up nights
Bear in mind there's little in the way of story put together right now, so I am going to throw down the notes for this au, and a lot of really early sketches.
Meet the Addams! (A break for your convenience because this is long as hell)
- Enoch, Beast, Young Lorna, Whispers, and Adelaide Addams make up the Addams family (in addition to Pumpkin (cat) and Turtle (Dog)
- Beast is the only blood Addams in the lot, and is heir to the Addam's fortune, his living relatives are distant, most don't even share the family name anymore, and all immediate family have been dead and dust for at least a decade.
- Both Whispers and Adelaide are sisters that married into the family and have been since widowed
- Enoch is married into the family (Through Beast, who else)
- Lorna's specific relation to the family is never specified, everyone is Auntie and Uncle, as far as the town is concerned, she's everyone's niece. Its also highly debated if anyone in the family actually knows where Lorna came from.
- Enoch and the Beast are exactly in love as Gomez and Morticia,
- Enoch somehow has even less inhibitions about showing it than Gomez
- Enoch is friendly, the neighbors love him, thinking he's the most normal one of the bunch despite his... unconventional dressing. Strangers who are new to the family normally latch onto him when faced with the... oddity of the rest of the family.
- One problem with this, Enoch isn't a man. He's man-shaped... barely. Enoch's eldritch nature is continually hinted at as part of a long running joke in this AU about Enoch being the normal one despite making no secret of the fact he feels terribly limited by two arms.
- (This is the version of Enoch that made me enact the Rat test)
- There's a rumor running around the neighborhood about a black cat that calls itself Providence and will strike up a conversation with you if you greet it politely.
- Enoch, of course, denies any connection.
- Enoch, weird as he might be, and off-putting as he is on second meeting, does actually have a lot of friends in town, some as odd as him and some perfectly normal average humans who are undaunted in the face of his family.
- One such individual is Miss Clara Dean, who is a finance lawyer for the Addams, and while she might have been shaken when she first met them, she's well past gawking at their odd home and traditions now
- His human glamor is tied to his bolo, I will not elaborate
- Enoch runs for mayor every opportunity, he never wins, but its always by thinner margins than should really be possible
- Adelaide never took her husband's last name, making her the only Addams who's not an Addams.
- She's fussy about the night air, dreadfully superstitious, and quite spiderlike, right down to a colorful web she keeps. She would have married Beast if he had shown a flicker of interest in him.
- She can divine the weather and sometimes says strange things about blue birds and curses
- She doesn't get out much, the neighbors don't know much about her, but all the neighborhood kids agree, she's definitely a witch.
- Whispers is very kind, and if you get past the initial shine on Enoch, probably the most normal of the family
- Except that she eats animals live
- And is also a witch (Probably, definitely, the neighborhood kids all agree, she's gotta be they insist.) Between her and Enoch they are the most out and about members of the Addams family.
- Lorna is quiet, shy, very sweet
- And she eats people.
- She also has a drowned ghost routine she likes to practice on door to door sales people by climbing out of the well in the backyard to give them a scare.
- Lorna's teachers are concerned by her behavior and encyclopedia knowledge of anatomy and torture, but are more concerned about calling a parent-teacher conference, since the entire Addams Clan will show up.
- Lorna sleeps under her bed instead of on it, Whispers occasionally frets about her waking up and knocking herself against the baseboards of the bed, Beast waves her off telling her its perfectly natural, at her age he was sleeping in a coffin.
- She of course ends up with Wednesday's classic noose braids at some point, courtesy of her uncles usually
- There's a red-haired girl who's tough as nails and maybe a little rude about Lorna's family who has been steadily hanging out with her, eventually Beatrice's mom invites the Addams over for dinner, it goes well all things considered.
- And that brings us to Mr. Addams himself,
- Beast wasn't christened Beast, but he hardly remembers the name on his birth certificate anyway.
- Sporting a stunning hat-veil constantly, and a floor length dress (Always black, only black maybe some red, sometimes a little blue and yellow), its safe to say no one in the neighborhood knows what Beast looks like, even if he did ever leave the Addams manor.
- Which he doesn't.
- The nicer gossips muse that he's agoraphobic, and the ruder ones say he's batshit and they're frankly glad he stays inside.
- Beast isn't inherently rude... most of the time, but he is incredibly disconcerting, and gives complements like a serial killer. Which does not help the numerous rumors that surround him and his family.
- He sings too, roaming the woods on the Addams property at night, and he's responsible for a fair few ghost stories.
- And his garden, its a bitter grey thing, and its almost artfully... decrepit, decorated by ornamental trees with grey-orange leaves and bark that almost looks like screaming faces. And his rose bushes, they're his pride and joy. They are so high maintenance though, when they bloom, he spends hours cutting their heads off.
- Every now and then, someone comes to the house, a door to doors salesman, a child on a dare, someone chasing stories of the Addams Fortune.
- All's well and good unless they manage to break into the house. Sometimes they get tangled in Adelaide's traps, sometimes Whispers finds them and ushers them out the door with an ominous warning, sometimes Lorna scares them out of the house and works herself into a giggling fit. Sometimes Enoch finds them, and he's all politeness and veiled menace.
- Oh, but heaven help the fool who gets found by Beast.
- I think that about wraps it up!
Something something cats on leashes, they're grossly in love.
#OTGW#over the garden wall#Enoch otgw#Enoch#The Beast#The Beast OTGW#dumb gay eldritch psychopomps#beastnoch#Lorna#The Addams AU#Lorna OTGW#Auntie Whispers#Adelaide#thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about it#I love this au so much
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
Life As We Know It {Chapter One}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara's blogs! >> @tacmc.
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby's Masterlist
Tara's Masterlist
5 years later….
Nyx looked at his birthday cake and the lone candle that was lit atop the icing before looking up at Feyre with a confused expression on his beautiful, little face.
His mother laughed, quietly, before leaning forward and taking out the candle. She had just blown out the flame when Rhys barely pushed the cake closer to Nyx, who put his chubby, little hands smack-dab in the middle of the icing and dug in.
Everyone had come to celebrate, and even Nesta couldn’t stop her smile from showing. At least, she let it show when she was on the opposite end of the house from the one and only, and massively self-centered, Cassian Nazari.
Of course, he would be at Nyx’s first birthday party. He was Nyx’s uncle - maybe not by blood, not that blood mattered when it came to Cassian, Rhysand, and their other lifelong friend, Azriel.
He, too, stood across the kitchen, watching as Elain snapped picture after picture of the jubilant baby, the mess atop his high chair the largest Nesta had ever seen. She knew Elain was taking notes for their own daughter’s birthday party, though she was barely three months old.
Rhysand’s smile was as big as Feyre’s as they watched their son, listening as his giggles filled the kitchen. Nyx realized quickly that the cake was for him alone and after smashing it for a few moments, he lifted a large handful to his chubby face and took a bite. His eyes lit up and that started the giggling anew.
Nesta loved her nephew and niece, had loved him since the day they were born, but she didn’t envy her sisters and their happy families. Unlike them, she had remained perfectly content on her own, especially after the endless string of disaster dates she had been forced to sit through throughout the years.
And children?
It wasn’t that Nesta disliked kids. Not all kids, at least. She loved her nephew and niece, anyway. Having one of her own, though? Having to be around one every day? Every night? Having to constantly try and make a tiny person content?
No, thank you. That was a challenge she had little interest in.
A deep rumbling laugh came from across the house and Nesta looked up to find Cassian entering the kitchen, still chuckling at something Mor had said.
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her lip from curling slightly as she looked at him. It only infuriated her more when he caught sight of her as he raised his beer to his lips and winked.
He was absolutely insufferable.
After their catastrophe of a date years ago, which Nesta had made Feyre promise was a stunt she’d never pull again, she had only been forced to be around Cassian Nazari a handful of times.
One of which was during Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, only months after their date.
“You only have to walk with him for thirty seconds,” Feyre had sighed, while Mor continued to pin and curl her hair into place. “You don’t have to be happy about it.”
“Good,” Nesta said, draining the glass of champagne in her hand. “Because I’m not.”
As Feyre’s maid-of-honor, it was customary that she was supposed to walk out of the wedding arm in arm with Rhysand’s best man. She wished that he’d picked Azriel, but since it seemed the Cauldron hated her, it had to be Cassian.
Elain, who was harboring the world’s most obvious crush on Azriel at the time, was thrilled with how they’d be exiting the wedding. Nevertheless, she said to Nesta, “I think you two got off on the wrong foot. He’s a really good guy, Nes.”
Nesta shot her youngest sister a look of pure annoyance through the mirror’s reflection. “Have any of you ever been on a date with the guy? And not only a date, but the worst date of your life?”
Feyre snorted, fully aware of where this conversation was headed. “No.”
“Then you have no room to talk,” Nesta snapped, admiring herself in the mirror. “Mother’s tits, Feyre, he wore jeans to the nicest restaurant in Velaris!”
“At least he didn’t wear his boots,” Mor muttered, then she caught Nesta’s glare in the mirror. “Really? He wore his boots?”
“He was dressed for an all-night, summer bonfire,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “And he’s completely full of himself. And, he forgot his wallet!”
“Not like you can’t afford dinner,” Feyre said, and Nesta’s lips snapped shut. She was fully aware that the conversation had somehow become a let’s-pick-on-Nesta session.
Feyre added, “You have to walk back down the aisle with him, share an entire table during dinner, and that’s it. No one is asking you to dance with him, but be nice.” Nesta met Feyre’s eyes, her jaw set. Feyre sighed, “Fine, be civil.”
She scoffed, but nodded. “Fine.”
The ceremony itself went off without a hitch. It was beautiful and elegant and the perfect wedding Rhys and Feyre had always wanted.
She ignored Cassian’s unending looks the whole night, managed to give her maid-of-honor speech without snarling at him, and after that, took advantage of the open bar her sister and new brother had so kindly provided.
She was coming out of the bathroom, a glass of wine still clutched in her hand, doing her best not to trip over her own feet when she walked into a wall.
A wall of solid muscle that turned out to be Cassian’s back.
When he turned around and she looked up at him, his eyes were nearly as glazed as hers.
“Hello, Nes,” he said, smirking down at her.
She bit out, “Don’t call me that.”
“That was a pretty, little speech you gave,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I know true love exists cause I’ve seen it first hand. Poetic.”
Nesta scoffed, brushing off the skirt of her dress as if he had tainted it. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t referring to you. I was talking about Feyre and Rhys, in case you thought otherwise.”
“Oh, I didn’t,” he promised. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were talking about anyone. Just some fluffy shit that sounded sweet. Unless it’s that guy that showed up at the restaurant and ruined our date. Oh, wait,” he began, tapping his chin as if in deep thought, “You dumped him though, right? Poor bastard.”
“You’re a prick,” Nesta bit out. She refrained from saying that Tomas hadn’t ruined their date. It was sad that seeing her ex was one the bright points of her night, rather than seeing the Greek god standing before her. The pretentious, cocky asshole of a Greek god.
He only grinned. “But am I a liar?”
Nesta’s jaw locked. She eyed his tux. “I’m just glad you decided to clean up for your own brother’s wedding. No jeans?”
He scoffed. “Is that the worst you’ve got?”
“Do you prefer me to give you my worst?” she asked, brows furrowing. “If so, you may want to be careful what you wish for.”
Cassian said nothing, just lifted the beer she hadn’t noticed in his hands to his lips.
Nesta rolled her eyes, brushing past him, and made a move to head back into the reception.
His voice called out behind her, “You don’t have to be such a miserable bitch, you know?”
She froze, looking back at him. He was no longer smirking at her. Instead, his eyes were intense. “Excuse you?”
“You’re so miserable that you won’t allow anyone else to have any fun, won’t allow yourself to either,” he said, still leaning against that damn wall. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, his dress shirt tight and loose in all the right places. “You want everyone else to suffer, just because you’re forcing yourself to, for whatever reason.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she bit out, stalking back over to him. She was so close she had to look up into his face.
“I don’t,” he said, words clipped. “I tried, but you didn’t seem very inclined to let me get to know you during our date. You were more concerned with my attire and your ex than you were with me. You thought all I wanted to do was fuck you.” His eyes, still glassy and glazed, dragged down her body and back up again. “Besides, you’ve got that damn stick shoved so far up your ass, there wouldn’t have been room for my cock even if I’d really even tried.”
A blink was Nesta’s only reaction. Then her hand was moving of its own accord, splashing her full glass of wine directly in his face and all over that pretty, white shirt.
“Go fuck yourself,” was all she’d said before she walked back into the ceremony, leaving him there to drip on the venue’s fancy carpet.
“Nesta!”
She blinked, Feyre’s voice drawing Nesta out of her memories, looking over at her sister. She stood next to Rhys and Elain, who had her camera in her hands, and Cassian stood behind Nyx’s high chair.
“I want a picture of him with his godparents, come here,” she beamed and Nesta tried not to cringe.
She had been so proud, her heart feeling like it would burst when Feyre and Rhys had asked her to be Nyx’s godmother. There was no hesitation when she said yes, tears lining her eyes as she’d hugged both her sister and brother-in-law.
She tried not to think about the fact that when they’d told her Cassian was his godfather, she nearly asked them to give the distinction to Elain.
But she hadn’t, wouldn’t. Despite what others, especially Cassian, thought of her… Nesta loved her nephew.
She loved her family.
With a sigh, Nesta meandered over to Nyx’s high chair. “Alright.”
“Closer,” Feyre ordered, gesturing Nesta to move in closer beside Cassian behind the high chair.
Nesta’s lips pursed but she took another step toward the boys for her sister’s sake.
“I’m not poisonous, Nesta,” Cassian muttered, smiling at the camera as he spoke. “You won’t burst into flames if we brush arms.”
“You’d be so lucky to brush arms with me,” she muttered back, hoping the smile she was giving her sister was convincing - and knowing full well that it wasn’t.
Without another word, Cassian tossed his arm around Nesta and said, “Cheeeeese!”
Nyx was giggling, looking up at his godparents behind him. There was so much joy and adoration in those big, beautiful eyes that Nesta didn’t have the heart to storm off, leaving Cassian in her dust, no matter how much she wanted to.
The camera’s flash went off and Nesta pushed Cassian’s arm off her shoulder.
The rest of the party was perfect. Feyre took Nyx up to the bathroom to clean him off, while Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian hauled his many gifts out into the living room. Feyre opened them one by one, despite everyone knowing Nyx had no clue what was going on, though he did clap his chubby little hands and giggle at a few particular items. Nesta stood off to the side with Elain, holding a milk-drunk, sleepy Seph in her arms.
Azriel and Elain’s little girl had been a surprise, neither of them planning on Elain getting pregnant so soon after they got married. They both fell into the role of parents so seamlessly though, that Nesta knew another baby would be in their near future. They adored the baby girl, and she was the most perfect baby Nesta had ever seen.
Persephone hardly cried, only doing so when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and once whatever wrong was taken care of, she became a happy, smiley baby again.
Nyx, on the other hand, had been a hellion as a baby.
Which was to be expected, considering who his father was. Although responsible when necessary, Rhysand was just as much of a madman as Cassian...especially when infused with alcohol.
“You look good with a baby,” Elain crooned from beside her sister.
Nesta rolled her eyes. “You can keep trying to push me down the marriage-baby road, but I just won’t take it. Wasting your time.”
Elain sighed, dramatically, with that little grin remaining on her soft pink lips. “As long as you stay such a good auntie, I suppose I can’t complain.”
Nesta looked down at the sweet, sleeping infant in her arms. She didn’t mind those little snuggles.
She did mind the diaper blowouts, constant spit-ups, and loud crying, though. That’s usually when she gave Seph back to her parents and blissfully enjoyed her independent life.
Feyre gasped and Nesta looked up. She was holding a little guitar that had Nyx’s name and the night sky engraved into the dark-stained wood.
Nesta’s eyes snapped to Cassian.
Cassian smiled, fondly, at Feyre. “I know he won’t be able to start messing with it for another few years, but I couldn't help myself.”
“He made that himself, you know.”
Nesta’s eyes shot to Elain, who was watching the scene before them. She whispered again, “He doesn’t do it for a living, of course, but it’s a hobby of his, making guitars. He’s really good.”
She blinked, the information catching her off guard for whatever reason. But all she said was, “That’s nice.”
She spent the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the man as much as she could, as she always did. But as the guests began to dwindle, as Nyx and Seph went down for their naps, the three sisters gathered in the living room, while Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian went out back to inspect the small jungle gym Rhys was building for Nyx. Again, he was too young to use most of it, but the tiny swing and slide would be hours of fun for the little man.
Feyre brought two cups of coffee out to her sisters before collapsing next to Elain on the couch. “That could not have gone better if we tried.”
Nesta leveled her a look and raised an eyebrow.. “If we tried? You had a minute-by-minute itinerary for a one-year-old’s birthday.”
“Everything was perfect,” Elain smiled, cutting off Nesta, blowing on her coffee gently. “Nyx had a good time, neither he nor Seph had a blow-up, Cassian and Nesta managed to be in the same room without stabbing each other. All in all, a good day.”
Nesta rolled her eyes before throwing a vulgar gesture towards her sisters, who were both laughing.
“Fine, new subject,” Feyre grinned. “Oh! Before I forget, Rhys and I are going out of town for our anniversary in a few weeks. I was hoping you could watch Nyx for a few days.”
It took Nesta a moment to realize that Feyre was talking to her. She froze, having been blowing on her own hot coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”
Feyre laughed, quietly. “I was hoping that you could watch Nyx while Rhys and I go away for a long weekend. We’re going to the mountains for our anniversary. To his family’s cabin.”
“Oh, that sounds nice,” Elain said, looking at Nesta.
Who blinked, having only unfrozen to set her coffee down on the table between them. “You want me…to watch Nyx…for the weekend? Alone? By myself? Just me and him?”
“That’s what I was hoping for, yeah,” Feyre said, nodding as she sipped from her cup. “You can come here, where all of his stuff is in one place, and make yourself at home.” She shrugged. “I’ll leave money for takeout and the key to the wine cabinet.”
Nesta hesitated. “I’ve only babysat Nyx a couple of times…all for, like, an hour each.”
“It will be fine,” she said, a genuine smile on her face. “It will only be three nights, really. We’ll leave after work on Thursday and be home Sunday evening.”
Nesta stammered and shook her head. “I have to work on Friday, the restaurant-.”
“I’ll keep him during the day on Friday,” Elain offered. “I don’t have any shoots that day, so he can spend the day with me and Seph.”
“You could keep him the whole weekend,” Nesta tried, looking at her younger sister hopefully.
“Seph is enough of a handful,” she chuckled, glancing at Feyre, who was nodding as well. “I don’t think I can handle two at once for an entire weekend.”
“Please, Nes,” Feyre said, drawing her eldest sister’s eyes to her. “I know you can do it and it would be nice for you to spend some time together, just you two.”
“And you can call me, if you need anything,” Elain added.
Nesta looked from Feyre to Elain. “You two already planned this.” They at least had the wherewithal to look guilty. She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Fine. But I’ll probably end up calling both of you every thirty seconds.”
“I can work with that,” Feyre said, just as Elain said, “Then it’s settled!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “But, I hope you know that I wouldn’t do this for anybody else.”
“Oh, I know,” Feyre grinned, “which is what makes you such a wonderful, wonderful big sister.”
“I am pretty damn wonderful,” Nesta agreed, grinning as she sipped from her mug.
As she drank, she peeked out the window, where the boys were putting together the playset. Once she did, only one thing caught her eye.
Cassian was already watching her.
And when he caught her gaze, that stupid little, cocky-ass grin appeared.
She hated that grin, hated it with every ounce of her being.
And she wouldn’t feel bad for it, no matter how much her sisters adored the guy.
She hated him, hated Cassian Nazari.
And she always would.
#life as we know it#snacmc lawki#shara#snacmc#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf
277 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 8
Word Count: 1879
Warning: trigger - hunting, and demeaning verbal abuse.
A/N thanks again to my beautiful @sillyrabbit81 for your editing and @amberangel112 for your encouragement.
Chapter 8
Henry could not understand why Jessie was still considering going out with this jerk. He huffed at Joe’s words and was pleasantly surprised at Tom’s reaction. Pleased to have someone in his corner, he nuzzled into the young man’s arms. It felt nice, an odd feeling of loss and regret pulled at his soul. He hadn’t seen his nephew in five years, he would be fifteen years old now four years younger than Tom. Memories of their last time together flooded his mind, the feel of his hands running through his fur. Even then he had refused to change, sadly his nephew had never known him in Human form.
The packhouse was large, made of local stone it would be considered menacing to outsiders. But for those invited in, it was a house filled with love. They had found Henry and his nephew Adam just outside their forest line, half-starved, dehydrated and desperate for care. The pack doctor had tended to Henry whilst one of the pack's mothers had shared her milk with the little pup. Adam had captured the mother’s heart and at Henry’s approval had adopted him into the pack. Henry had grieved the loss of his only kin but been so grateful to them. He knew he could not look after the little one, not with his heartbroken in pieces.
Over the next ten years, he had come and gone from the house checking up on Adam, watched as he grew strong, not only physically, but emotionally he had developed into a beautiful soul. Their last time together they had sat just like he was now with Tom. He had curled up next to Adam, his head in his lap, Adams fingers running through his fur. “I wish you could change for me Uncle, I see all the other dads and sons playing together and I love the idea that when I change next year we can run together. Then I can finally talk to you and hear your voice back. But I want to know what you look like, to be able to hug you like I see that others hug their dads.” His face had added to Henry’s grief looking so heartbroken and longingly at him. He had tried at that moment, had attempted to honour his request but his human side was so lost, hidden in pain. He had left the house that day, knowing even if it broke his heart, he needed to let his nephew grow with his new pack and not be held back by him.
Now nestled against Tom he regretted that decision. He heard a chuckle soft and happy. “Well look at you two. I would never have guessed Wolfy could be so comfortable with another human. I haven’t seen him like that with anyone except with me. What’s your secret Tom?” Her bright eyes landed on Tom who had continued to scratch behind Henry’s ears.
“I don’t know Miss Jessie, but I have always loved wolves, well any kind of animal really but especially wolves.”
She seemed thoughtful as she eyed them both making Henry wonder what she had planned. “Tom, are you free tonight? I have a date and I really don’t want to leave Wolfy alone again.” Henry felt Tom stiffen. Wondering what was wrong with the request, he moved his head to look up at the boy.
A brief look of disapproval flashed in his eyes before they softened as he looked down and saw Henry watching him. “Yes, Miss Jessie. I would love to spend more time with this beautiful boy.” Internally he chuckled at Tom’s words, if only he knew he was twelve years older than him.
That afternoon Henry, Jessie and Tom spent out in the garden. Tom seemed to fit beautifully into their friendship group kneeling beside Jessie as they planted new flowers and shrubs where they had pulled up the weeds. Together, Henry dug the holes, Tom placed the plants and held them in place whilst Jessie filled the soil around them. Henry enjoyed hearing the light conversation between his Mate and his new friend until it became heavier. “So, Tom, when did you begin to love wolves? I know your father traps them, so I’m interested as to why you don’t follow his belief.”
Tom continued to work, as a gentle hum was heard working up from his throat. “I know why Dad does it, although I don’t think he is correct. He blames the wolves for his loss of cattle, but I haven’t seen that many around. The wild dogs are more to blame but he won't listen. They have a group that meet purely to discuss the wolf problem, but in my whole life, the only large group I have seen was back when I was four. It’s the first and last time Dad allowed me to come to a hunting party. Mom was horrified that he was taking me, but I wanted so much to be with Dad, and he wanted me to be just like him.”
Henry shuddered as the boy spoke as if by some force of nature, he knew that he was about to hear what had happened that day. He also sensed the grief radiating off the boy, wanting to calm him he pushed his body into Tom’s side. Nuzzling his head as if to say, “It's ok, I’m here for you.” Tom let out a heavy chuckle as if he had heard Henry’s voice.
He sat back looking down at Henry as he spoke, “Thanks Wolfy, you would think that I would not remember something that happened that long ago, but it's imprinted in my mind. They had been tracking a pack that had only just entered the area, convinced the rest of the ranchers that they were a risk to our lively hood, that we couldn’t let them nest here. So, the best of their marksman left, when we found them all, sitting around a tree, curled up sleeping, all I wanted to do was go play with the cuddly animals. Dad kept pulling me back holding me still and quiet. I didn’t understand until the loud bangs began.”
Tom’s voice wobbled at this point and Jessie who had been silent up till this time also came closer. She pulled him into her side, her arm encasing his thin body as his shoulders began to shake. “I started screaming as I saw a single wolf with a baby on its back running away, Dad aimed for it but I managed to push the barrel up making him miss. I got the thrashing of my life that night. I couldn’t sit for a week, but it was worth it. I was never allowed to come again after that, not that I wanted to. It took a while, but Dad eventually began to trust me enough to check the traps. I am glad too because it meant I could help this fella.”
Jessie held the boy as his sobs subsided. Henry was trying to hold his anger in, these were the people who had destroyed his family. And yet this one boy had not only saved him once but twice, his gratitude was the only thing stopping him from wanting to go rip the throats out of the group. Ignorance and fear were the driving forces that ended his family, if only they knew the wolves would only ever take a sick animal, and sometimes the young, never the strength of the herd. They would never kill without need. But the wild dogs he had seen were giving us a bad name.
Jessie's voice interrupted his thoughts, the softness not hiding the grief in her own. “Was that near here Tom?” How did Jessie know?
“Yes, Miss Jessie, by the tall tree in the middle of the forest.”
She silently picked up the tools, both animal and human watching her, wondering what she was thinking. Sighing she stood up, “Come, it’s getting dark and I need to get ready for this date.” She walked silently back into the house. The boy and the wolf looked at each other before both followed.
Jessie fixed dinner for Tom and Henry then left to dress, leaving the pair to their own devices. Tom seemed quiet after revealing his early childhood trauma and Henry was eager to help calm the boy. After eating, he plodded into the living room, jumped up on the couch and yipped in Tom’s direction. Chuckling, Tom responded, “You want to watch some TV boy?” Nuzzling the remote, he yipped eagerly hoping to distract the boy from his thoughts.
Tom settled next to him and picked up the remote, they settled on watching a rerun of M.A.S.H before they both heard the clicking of heels and the rapping of knuckles on the front door. Open-mouthed both Henry and Tom sat dumbstruck as Jessie walked down the stairs in a light yellow sundress her dark hair flowing softly twisted into waves. “Wow Miss Jessie, you look amazing” got in first before Henry followed with his eager Yip. Giggling Jessie smiled softly at them both, “Ok I won't be out late, but even so, don’t get up to any mischief”
This caused both Henry and Tom to laugh, one sounding more like a series of yips. The door opened and closed and Jessie was gone. Together the two sat, watched movies and shared some popcorn that Tom had found in the pantry. Just as the end of a Witcher episode finished they heard yelling coming from outside. “I don’t give a dam Boyd, you had no right to hit that poor man, It was an accident.” The front door opened as Jessie stormed inside, the front of her dress had a brown stain down the side of her skirt.
Next Boyd came crashing into the room his face red as he reached out to grab Jessie's arm, this caused Henry to jump into action his snarl reaching the ears of the big man before he saw the wolf racing towards him. Jumping back almost stumbling over the kitchen chair Boyd’s face grew hotter, “Keep that mutt controlled Jessie otherwise I’ll control him for you with my shot Gun.”
The air went still as Henry felt Jessies and Tom's hands on him, “That is enough Boyd Hatfield, you are no longer welcome in this home. Get. Out!” Surprise filled Boyd’s face as he not only recognised Tom but registered his marching orders. Menace replaced the look of surprise, “Listen here little girl, you better watch that attitude of yours. I’ll allow you to cool off but we are not finished talking, and if you value the life of that mutt you will do as your told.” Punctuating the statement with a nod of his head he turned and strolled out the door.
Heart pounding he turned looking up at Jessie who seemed to have lost her speech, her face pale and her hands shaking. Tom moved swiftly pulling her into his arms as she began to cry, frustrated that it wasn’t his arms holding her, Henry pushed his body against her to show he was there, but inside he was furious. That man had threatened not just himself but Jessie, but he had to focus on her right now, she was more important no matter how much he wanted to go after him.
Chapter 9
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
What Was Never Meant to Be Part 3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
*5 years later*
To say life had treated you well was an understatement.
You were living in the city of your dreams with the job of your dream.
And to top it all off you had a beautiful little girl.
Rosalie L/N.
She was the most beautiful child you had ever seen. She had clear blue eyes and light brown hair that covered her delicate face. When she smiled you could see her dimples that only showed how innocent and sweet she was.
She reminded you of her father.
His sweet smile.
You sighed.
It had been such a long time.
It almost seemed like a different life.
*5 years ago*
"You can't ever tell him any of this, Olivia," you say as she drops you off at your old apartment.
Olivia have you a soft smile.
"Of course Y/N."
Noah who has been asleep most of the ride gave you a little wave as you walked out of the car.
Even though you trusted Olivia you couldn't stay in New York.
It was just to painful.
As you walked into your apartment you could feel a wave of emotion run through you.
Damn pregnancy hormones.
Damn Sonny Carisi.
You spent the rest of the night crying as you looked for a start to your new life.
A new beginning.
------------------------
*Present*
"Mommy can we go get ice cream?"
Your daughter's sweet voice took you out of your trance.
"You haven't even ate dinner yet Rosalie."
Rosalie pouted.
You sighed. It was hard not to give in to that adorable pout.
"How about we go after dinner?"
"Yaaaaaay!" She hugged you before going off to play.
You smiled.
Everything was perfect.
You heard a knock on the door.
You wondered who it could be. You weren't expecting company.
You went to answer it.
You could not believe who was at the door.
Dominic Carisi
-------------------------------
*5 years ago*
To say he was stupid was an understatement.
Sonny felt like an idiot.
And rightfully so.
What kind of idiot kisses another girl when he has a financee?
Him.
It was a spur of the moment.
And yet it wasn't.
He knew he had some feelings for Amanda.
And yet he was still with you.
He had looked for you all over the venue and couldn't find you.
He knew then you had saw.
He immediately went home.
And then he saw your ring and your note.
He cried.
He knew he had broken your heart.
He knew you would never come back.
*Present*
"I've here before with my mom's friend," Noah said.
Sonny was babysitting for Olivia who had a last minute meeting.
"Oh yeah? That's cool," Sonny said absent-minded.
"Yeah she dropped her friend Y/N here when Uncle Fin had that party."
"That's grea-," Sonny paused and whipped his head towards Noah.
"What did you say?"
"Momma's friend Y/N. She lives here I think." Noah said.
"Noah tell me about Y/N and that day at the party," Sonny said trying to hide the nervous feeling rising in his chest.
"Why?"
Sonny grimaced. He didn't know exactly what to say.
"Because I was gonna get married with her and then I kissed Amanda"
Nope. That wouldn't fly.
"She was a good friend of mine and I haven't seen her in a while."
Noah was a bit skeptical at first but then Sonny offered to take him to the amusement park someday if he told him everything.
Nothing could prepare him for the guilt he felt after hearing Noah.
He could feel the tears already forming in his eyes as he clenched his fists in anger.
How could he have done this?
She never deserved to feel that kind of pain.
A small voice brought him back from his tultmotous mind.
"Oh and she had some weird things in her bag," Noah added.
"Oh?"
"She had little shoes. They kinda looked like baby shoes or something. I thought it was kinda weird."
Sonny eyes went wide as he felt his body start to shake.
No.
It couldn't be.
"Uncle Sonny?" Noah tugged his arm.
Sonny heard him but it was like he was far away as he fought the urge to start sobbing.
After a while he finally shakily managed to tell Noah, "Noah we're gonna go with your mom. I'm pretty sure her meeting is almost over."
--------------------
"Why? Why would you not tell me?"
"It wasn't my place."
"The hell it was! I have a kid and I never knew about!"
Olivia sighed. This conversation had escalated pretty quickly and she wasn't too happy.
She was amazed that her son had managed to still remember that night so long ago.
She was even more amazed he told Carisi.
"Carisi you're the one who kissed Amanda and if I'm not mistaken you did pursue her."
"It was stupid. I wasn't thinking. I didn't love her like I did Y/N."
At this point Olivia saw tears glistening down Carisi's face and she felt wave of sadness wash over her.
It's so interesting how one mistake, one moment can cause so much pain.
"Tell me where she is," he said so quietly she almost missed it..
"I can't."
And with those words she saw her friend break.
He started sobbing and begging her to tell him. He got on his knees pleading to know where he could find the only thing that ever mattered in his life.
"Please Olivia Please," he sobbed, "I can't bear to live with this..this pain that has consumed me ever since that night. I was so stupid but you have to know I still love her please!"
At this point even she had tears in her eyes.
No one deserves to be this sad.
To live with that pain.
The punishment of a simple mistake.
Oh how cruel life is.
---------------
After Olivia told him how to find you Sonny wasted no time.
He felt a huge rush of different emotions.
He was excited to meet his daughter.
He was nervous to see you.
But most of all he was scared.
Scared because he knew there would never be anything that could make up the pain.
As he pulled up to the driveway of the address Olivia had given him he felt his heart thumping against his chest.
His feet feelt like lead as he walked to the front door.
His hand trembled as he knock.
It seemed like an eternity as he stood there waiting.
An eternity of pain and suffering.
And then...
the door opened.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Hey guys! I know i said 3 part but I got a bit carried away so there will be a 4 part.
Taglist: @wittysunflower
#sorry not sorry#all the feels#just writing this made me big sad#help#I promise part 4 will be it#law and order fic#lawandorderfanfic#l&o: svu#lawandordersvu#law and order special victims unit#law and order svu#pregnant reader#reader imagine#x reader#carisi x reader#sonny carisi#dominic carisi#angst prompt#sad#amandarollins#olivia benson#svu imagines#imagine
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, second part
(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Flute Solo
For some reason Wei Wuxian has decided to take a walk outside of the fortress, or behind the fortress, or something? Can people just take a stroll outside during wartime? Seems unwise.
There are guards and these extra-bossy crows herding some Wen prisoners along, and Wei Wuxian stands up above and gets totally overwhelmed by resentful energy.
He falls to one knee while clutching his chest, in the spot where all cultivators seem to stow a bag of holding. I guess this is the Xuanwu sword? Or maybe it's his surgical incision; those things can take a while to finish healing. I think the golden core is further down in the abdomen, though; this is right over his heart.
Wen Qing, Granny, and Fourth Uncle are in the group, but Wen Qing has her hood up so Wei Wuxian can't see her, and he's unlikely to remember the other two, since he only saw them that one time at the shrine, and he doesn't remember people he's literally had dinner with.
The guards decide to be assholes and beat the shit out of a prisoner because he fell down, which inspires some extra aggressive crows to swoop in and attack the not-dead guy on the ground. That is...not how carrion-eaters behave, generally. They're pretty good about waiting for you to stop moving.
Wei Wuxian continues to struggle, obviously having an orgasm in a lot of pain, and starting to leak resentful energy.
(more after the cut)
He brings his flute up and starts playing it, which causes the wind to rise, rocks to fall from a nearby cliff, and the whole group of people on the ground under him to start having Yin Iron lines crawling up their faces.
Would Wen Qing be a beautiful fierce corpse? She would.
Eventually Wei Wuxian stops torturing everybody, having gotten it out of his system for a bit, and stands up. The group gets up, skin clearing up, and starts moving along again, a little shook. Wen Qing looks up and sees Wei Wuxian and hides her face in anguish.
She was there in the dungeon, listening to the same flute music, when he was resentfully slaughtering everyone around her in Yiling. Does she understand what she’s seeing, what he’s become?
Her hood is off and it seems that he sees her, or at least that he is trying to figure out what he's seeing. But Jiang Yanli arrives before he can do more than look puzzled and cast his eyes around.
Jiang Yanli asks him what just happened and he laughs and says it was the strong wind, in an extremely transparent lie that Yanli nearly chokes trying to swallow. She drags him back to the meeting while he continues to look troubled.
War Council
Meanwhile, the war council is meeting. This is mostly a boring rehash of stuff we already know, but someone has drawn a nice big map that's been installed in a custom frame. Because apparently the table with the mountains on it is not a good enough representation of "and then we will walk from our house to Wen Ruohan's house," which is basically their plan. The gist of this scene is that Wen Ruohan having the Yin Iron gives him an advantage, in case we needed to be reminded of that.
The doors fly open and Wei Wuxian and his fabulous ass literally blow into the room.
Everyone reacts in a comically extreme way.
He casts his eyes malevolently and/or sexily over to Lan Wangji, who is still grumpy with him, while Jiang Cheng comes up and stands almost as close to him as Lan Wangji used to.
He tells everybody that he might have something to counteract the yin iron.
Everybody: Really? Do tell!
Wei Wuxian: Happy to!
Wei Wuxian: *theatrical side-eye at judgy ex boyfriend*
Wei Wuxian: Actually, nope.
He says "we'll see in about a month" while fondling whatever is hidden next to his ribcage.
This behavior, while ridiculous, isn't quite as absurd as it seems from a corporate-meeting standpoint. Part of what cultivators do is invent and refine spiritual tools. So when Wei Wuxian makes this speech, the people in the meeting are going to infer that he is creating a spiritual tool to counter the Yin Iron.
Now it's Lan Xichen's turn to ask everybody’s favorite question. Lan Xichen wasn’t at the party when everyone else asked him, and we're apparently supposed to believe these gossips haven't been talking about the not-sword-carrying 24x7.
Wei Wuxian says he's just not in the mood, and we get to see Lan Xichen's impressive ability to hold his face completely still while he represses his desire to slap someone.
Jin Zixun complains about Wei Wuxian after he leaves, but for once his bitching is on point; he correctly surmises that the counter to yin iron is...yin iron.
Now, to be fair, the yin tiger amulet is different from the yin iron because it exists in the novel Wei Wuxian specially refines it to be more manageable than the sword it started from. And maybe it’s gel coated to be easier on the stomach. But it's basically the same shit.
Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchange intense gazes, just to prove that the young people aren’t the only ones who know how to eye fuck.
Lying Is Forbidden
Lan Xichen talks to Lan Wangji, and we discover that Lan Wangji is perfectly capable of lying. He manages to maintain a reputation for not lying but I think the trick is that he just avoids talking in general, so when, for example, people in later years say "who's your masked boyfriend" he just doesn't answer, which isn't really lying. (How many times did Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen ask “where did you get this kid?” and just not get an answer, I wonder.)
At other times he actually directly lies, as when he claims he is “just passing through” Yiling on a night hunt. The current conversation with Lan Xichen definitely involves actual lying.
Let's play multiple choice answers with the Lan brothers!
Q: Why is WWX so confident we can have Yin Iron against WRH in a month?
a.) Because he's been walking around with that Xuanwu sword for months, and it is obviously made of Yin iron
b.) because he used a fucking ghost flute to flay Wen Chao more or less in front of me, so he is clearly down with some dark magics
c.) I don’t know
Q: Was the death of people in the Yiling supervisory office really related to yin iron?
a.) obviously
b.) maybe he was using some other source of overwhelming necromantic power
c.) no, he’s not like that
Q. When you approached Yiling, was there anything unusual?
a.) yes, the talismans had been altered to draw in evil spirits
b.) yes, everyone except his particular friend Wen Qing had killed themselves in horrifying, outlandish ways
c.) are there rules already set for everything in the world?
Xichen, bless him, actually lets Lan Wangji change the subject like that and answers his question honestly.
Xichen: Actually, rules are pretty much shit
Wangji: fucking hell, you're telling me this NOW? What have I been doing for the past 18 years then?
They both look just ridiculously beautiful in this conversation. Lan Wangji’s affect with his brother is so interesting. He’s trusting, emotionally open, willing to be seen...but only because he knows Lan Xichen won’t push past his barriers, won’t force him to speak the truth of what’s on his mind.
Awkwardness
The Yunmeng bros roll up, and awkwardness ensues.
Wangji is frowning hard. His frowns are of the micro variety just like his smiles, but boy they are consistent and Wei Wuxian and Xichen both know how to read them.
Wei Wuxian gives Lan Xichen a small, sunny smile--it seems genuine, not like the fake ones he's trotting out on demand for his family.
Then he gives Lan Wangji a pointed gaze of yearning and reproachfulness, which Lan Wangji returns, switching from frowning to a softer expression that seems about equal parts hurt, apology, and thirst.
Wei Wuxian reacts to that by bowing again and leaving, with Jiang Cheng quickly following, wondering what the fuck just happened.
Lans Xichen and Wangji pivot gracefully to watch them go, which Lan Wangji should know is not correct post-breakup behavior; you're supposed to act disinterested, my dude.
And then Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji what the fuck is going on. Lan Wangji gets one more lie in, saying he's not worried about Wei Wuxian, before reapplying his frown and walking away from the conversation.
Macroexpression Brothers
OP was wrong about Wei Wuxian not hugging Jiang Cheng any more--here he is hanging on him just like the old days, and Jiang Cheng is shoving him off, just like the old days. However, it emerges that this is mostly an act that WWX is putting on to seem normal.
Jiang Cheng wants to know what's wrong between him and Lan Wangji, and asks why they broke up. Wei Wuxian points out that Jiang Cheng didn't like him dating Lan Wangji before, so why is he pushing him to get back together with him now, and Jiang Cheng says that now they're allies in a war, so Wei Wuxian needs to do his duty and help keep Lan Wangji in fighting trim, nudge nudge.
Then he starts lecturing Wei Wuxian about sword cultivation and generally good behavior, and Wei Wuxian theatrically nods and give him appraising looks, telling him he really seems like a clan leader now.
Jiang Cheng headshakes this away. Wei Wuxian actually giving Jiang Cheng a sincere compliment here, disguised as teasing, and he's not wrong. Jiang Cheng has matured and is becoming a strong leader. Not strong enough to ignore peer pressure, but that’s true of most clan leaders in this environment. They’re not supposed to ignore peer pressure.
Wei Wuxian is pointing it out for his own reasons - he doesn't want to be having this conversation - but it's nice to see him giving his clan leader his due.
Jiang Cheng walks away as Wei Wuxian smiles after him; as soon as he's out of sight the smile falls off of Wei Wuxian's face as fast as fast as gravity can take it. It's like someone snuffed a candle.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance that's never free
More Awkwardness
Lan Wangji and his ambivalence come looking for Wei Wuxian, standing outside his door and raising a hand to knock before changing his mind and fleeing.
Lan Wangji is on the back foot for the first time in his relationship with Wei Wuxian; this boy who pursued and pursued and PURSUED him is now a man who won't speak to him. This boy who hung on every one of his words, and saw through all of his minute facial expressions, has become a man who won't listen to him. Lan Wangji is in the position of pursuer, now, and it's not a role he's well equipped for.
Yanli stops him as he's bailing. He looks so relieved to see her, but he tries to escape immediately after greeting her. She stops him so she can ask what the fuck is going on.
Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian rolls up while Lan Wangji is in the middle of talking to her. He's telling her about the heterodox cultivation, and Wei Wuxian busts him. Wei Wuxian steps up and asks what he was telling her, and Lan Wangji says "Wei Ying," but doesn't get much further than that.
Nunya
Wei Wuxian reminds him that he told him to stay out of Jiang Clan business. Now, here I want to mention that "private" and "not your bidness" are culturally specific concepts. OP, for example, grew up in version of Irish-American culture so secretive that the problems of a person's life and (often) the cause of their death are things only discovered by whoever inherits their papers. [OP inherited 3 generations of letters a few years ago, and HOO BOY]
In the version of Chinese culture which we see in this drama, your choices, thoughts & troubles belong to the family and clan, not just to you. Wei Wuxian, in shutting his elder sister out of his struggles, is not family-ing correctly. Jiang Yanli is right to try to get around that by asking his friend. His friend is also right to give her--in sanitized form--the information she is asking for.
Wei Wuxian has zero trust in Lan Wangji at this point, unfortunately. He doesn’t know that Lan Wangji has been lying to cover for him; he just knows he’s being a grumpy aggressive holy roller. Now, when Lan Wangji has just been given permission to disregard all 3000 rules and look at a person’s heart, that person’s heart has been hardened against him.
Yanli is used to dealing with Wei Wuxian's moods at this point -- after all, a lifetime of Jiang Cheng has got her used to volatile little brothers, and Wei Wuxian is clearly a new, not-improved man since his return.
She tries to get him to chill out while Lan Wangji gives him a death glare -- not a return to the earlier generalized frown, more of a specific "I can't believe how full of shit you are" frown.
Wei Wuxian calls him Lan Er Gongzi, like a dick. Lan Wangji started this but at this point Wei Wuxian is kind of in the lead for who is being The Worst. Lan Wangji executes a beautiful 180 and walks away at top speed.
Wei Wuxian asks Yanli if he talked about Yiling and when she says he didn't, he realizes he fucked up.
He goes running after him and calls him Lan Zhan and says "listen to me" but Lan Wangji is no longer in a listening mood.
Eat A Dick Sword
Lan Wangji is so far in his feelings at this point that he just hauls out his sword and goes after Wei Wuxian, taking complete control of the interaction and forcing Wei Wuxian to concede the fight. Aww, he’s so angry! I love him.
This is a rough moment for Wei Wuxian. He really genuinely can't hold his own against Lan Wangji, unless he's going to directly use necromancy against him the way he does later in their final confrontation.
When they first met he was able to defend himself on the rooftop without drawing his sword, but he's weaker now; Chenqing is an adequate hand weapon against most cultivators and puppets, but it's not a match for Lan Wangji's full attack.
Wei Wuxian is not enjoying this fight, and can’t win in, so he just throws in the towel, exposing his throat and trusting Lan Wangji's control.
On the surface, this fight appears to re-establish their former rapport, but it puts them on such an uneven footing it might actually drive a larger wedge between them. I think that Lan Wangji has made a strategic error in doing this.
Lan Wangji seems to want to prove to Wei Wuxian that his new style of cultivation is inadequate, that he would do better with a sword. Swordplay was the beginning of their relationship; their matched power was the source of their mutual attraction. Lan Wangji can't accept that Wei Wuxian has given it up; he doesn't (yet) respect his agency enough to assume that he has a good reason.
This fight functions as yet another punishment that Lan Wangji doles out to Wei Wuxian; not a physical one, this time, but a psychological one, and their relationship pays the price.
By attacking Wei Wuxian and forcing him to concede, Lan Wangji is showing that they're unequal. By criticizing Wei Wuxian's lack of progress and asking him the same goddamn question everybody else is asking him -- where is your sword? -- Lan Wangji is humiliating him.
This encounter does not re-establish Wei Wuxian’s trust in him; it just forces him to accept Lan Wangji’s authority, for now. Which is not what either of them really wants.
Soundtrack: Behind Blue Eyes, by The Who
Writing Prompt: What would Wei Wuxian have said if Lan Wangji had listened to him instead of drawing his sword?
#the untamed#the untamed gifs#wangxian#the untamed meta#cql#restless rewatch the untamed#canary3d-original#my gifs#2810 word count
258 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
xavalav
little penis boy
helpxpatkuwait
Untitled
mezitch
Mezitch’☯
feiro-kito
Bez tytułu
ireallylikemusicalslikereally
Oh nothing, just running the world.