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tomorrowxtogether · 1 year

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BEOMGYU: “I don’t want to lose to myself”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION comeback interview

2023.02.10

The object of BEOMGYU’s affection, and that which he wrestles most passionately with, is himself.

You said you retested your MBTI a few months ago and this time you got I[ntroverted].

BEOMGYU: I’m still mostly like I was whenever I’m around the other members, but my personality has changed a lot since debuting. It used to be that, if I had time off, I would go out no matter what, whether to see friends or go shopping by myself, but ever since I debuted I can count on one hand how many times I’ve gone out to see friends. I used to really look forward to meeting new people; now I feel a little awkward in those situations. I have a perpetually public-facing job so now I like spending my personal time quietly on my own. I think I like that sense of absence. (laughs)

I feel like you have the opposite energy, too. You create a fun atmosphere when the situation calls for it, like when shooting variety shows.

BEOMGYU: If I’m set to film a variety show for three hours, for example, I privately make up my mind to act crazy during that time and absolutely nail it. I can feel that I’m losing my energy while filming lately. But still, I’ve enjoyed variety shows ever since I was little, and I want to be entertaining, so I try not to hold back. I really like watching 2 Days & 1 Night and if you watch the people on it, they really go all out. They make their own stuff throughout, inventing their own rules, like, “Whoever loses should jump into freezing water.” I think that’s when I understood that, when it comes to variety shows, the more all-out you go, the more fun it is.

Since you’re so notable for your energy on your own variety shows, do you feel a sense of responsibility when you do other shows?

BEOMGYU: A little bit, maybe. The other members are pretty shy and feel some amount of pressure when it comes to variety shows. TAEHYUN used to always say, “I’m really grateful you’re there to carry us on variety shows. I’ll go along with what you’re doing. I trust you.” That eventually made me feel responsible, which made me feel like I had to be the one to carry the show no matter what. (laughs) Now I think about how I need to keep the other members’ energy up while having fun myself, too. I’m always looking at the plan whenever doing a show and thinking, Hmm, so that’s the vibe they’re going for; I should do this or that—because I know you have to put in an effort for every part.

What was it like getting ready for the year-end performances? In the behind-the-scenes footage for 2022 MMA you were so passionate that you personally asked for a reshoot of the prerecorded parts.

BEOMGYU: We really put every last ounce of ourselves for every awards ceremony. We absolutely had to put on a good show this time because we were working on it even when we were in the middle of touring. It was like a war zone. But there’s so many different variables at awards ceremonies that you never know how it’s going to turn out, even if you prepare 200%. So, I think we have to try again if we have a chance whenever we look different performing than we have in mind or there’s a part we mess up. All of us are really ambitious about our performances, so even if I feel satisfied with where we’re at, if someone else isn’t quite satisfied, I don’t make a stink. We just say, Sure, let’s do that again, and follow along. Because we know we all have to find no problems with the performance for it to be perfect.

I bet you really wish you could’ve done the part where you use a lighter to set a rose on fire and throw it back.

BEOMGYU: I thought that was the best part, actually. I was supposed to take the rose and the lighter out all in under five seconds, but the rose got all crushed in my clothes so it wouldn’t come out. I had to improvise to save the moment, so I just stared at the lighter and pretended to throw it away. I was half losing my mind (laughs) but I just thought, If you don’t have teeth, use your gums, and did that. It was too bad, but more people than usual told me it was a good performance. It made me feel better to think the performance was decent after all the passion we put into practicing for it.

People said that they can tell how carefully you study when they saw your cover of V’s performance for “DNA” by BTS at 2022 SBS Gayo Daejeon. It was also well-received for how incredibly well you adapted it to suit you specifically.

BEOMGYU: Heheh. (laughs) I’m always really determined to do a good job when I cover their songs. I really wanted it to be good this time, too, so I watched videos of their performance so, so many times when I was practicing. I can’t do it like they can, but I still wanted to do it as closely as possible, so I kept thinking about his attitude, starting with emulating his facial expressions, and what they wanted to express through the song. I was inwardly proud because the response after was really good.

You tend to put a particular amount of effort into the way you express yourself on stage. Did the way you study come about as a result of all your experience?

BEOMGYU: I try not to forget how I first felt when I heard a song. I base my studying on the things that come to mind when I first heard a song or saw the rough choreography—things like how certain parts should be expressed or the parts I really want to bring to life. And I usually get better at things while shooting music videos. When it’s captured on camera, I check how it looks and think, Oh, maybe it would look better if I did it like this? And make lots of adjustments myself.

Can you use “Sugar Rush Ride,” the lead single off your new album, as an example?

BEOMGYU: For this song, it’s really all about attitude. I felt like I had to be sort of a sexy, crazy guy. (laughs) For example, for the part that goes, “Come here more, let’s play more,” I had a really serious vibe at first. But, I mean, when we shot it, I tried acting more like a crazy guy. (laughs) I added a sweet-and-salty feel by laughing my head off then pulling a straight face right at the end while I make a beckoning motion with my hand, and people really seemed to like that a lot better, so I made some adjustments. I’m trying different things like that to come up with a decent final version. And the vocals were harder than I imagined. The part that goes “saenggak-eun” in the intro aren’t low enough to sing easily and aren’t high enough to use my chest, so it’s a really ambiguous pitch for me. The pronunciation of “saeng” and “gak” is vague, so when you sing them together, it feels like they get caught in your throat. That was a bit challenging, and “gimme gimme more” is just three words long but I had to make my voice lower and rougher than I expected so I could sound sexy, and I had to make the ending sound like it’s spreading out. I had to think carefully about how to bring out the emotions in detail.

What were you trying to express through the lyrics you wrote for “Happy Fools” (feat. Coi Leray)?

BEOMGYU: I wrote the part in the first and second pre-chorus that goes, “I’m like a butterfly / A honeybee who’s always working.” I’ve been that kind of butterfly before, too. (laughs) There was a difficult period after I debuted where every day felt the same—like running on a hamster wheel. That’s the feeling I was writing about—the feeling of going to work every day and the Sun already being down whenever I got off and the feeling of wanting to see the sunset. Ants and bees work nonstop, so I thought about how many things they might be missing in life, not knowing how beautiful the sunset is or how nice and cool the breeze was.

Your idea of happiness changes every year. What does happiness mean to you at the moment?

BEOMGYU: That’s hard for me again lately, actually. I used to try and look for happiness around me in easy ways, but lately, rather than chasing some vague idea of happiness, I’ve felt it’s important to deal with the situations immediately facing me and do so wisely. It’s possible for negative emotions to creep in when you’re busy like this and there’s less time to sleep and there’s limits on how you can deal with the stress. I always end up regretting it later on if I let those emotions take over me. But if you get a grip on those passing emotions and overcome them, time keeps passing anyway, and you don’t have to pay any mind to unnecessary things as a result. I feel more relaxed lately after practicing that.

It sounds like you’re learning to control yourself rather than being pushed and pulled by what’s around you.

BEOMGYU: Exactly. Haha. (laughs) So these days it feels like I’m spiritually enlightened. (laughs) I managed to let go of a lot of emotions, and rather than holding onto my immediate thoughts or concerns I’m living for one thing: wanting to do a good job on promoting this album with the other members—just being healthy and having a good time while doing what we want, without worrying about what other people think. That’s how I want to do things.

SOOBIN said recently that it must be fun to live the way you do.

BEOMGYU: I think I live a fun life thanks to the other members, though. I’m always having fun and feeling strong, even when I’m mentally and physically tired, thanks to them. I can rely on them so much that it makes me think I would’ve had a really hard time if I had been a solo artist rather than in a group. I feel like we’re really family now.

Given how often you share specific details of your life with your family when you were a kid in Daegu, it seems like your past memories play a big part in how you maintain your current level of happiness.

BEOMGYU: Music might be the only way to revive memories of the past, don’t you think? I can listen to some music that’s tied to a memory and, no matter how bad I’m feeling, that memory comes back to me and I feel happier for a bit. It’s weird, but when I listen to my cover of “Wonder” now, all my thoughts, worries and feelings from that time come back to me and it actually brings me comfort. It’s calm and sad songs rather than upbeat ones that make me feel like I’m being empathized with so I can slowly break out of feeling like I need to be comforted.

I guess your dad knew that and that’s why he made you a playlist called WHEN COOKEY SLEEP.

BEOMGYU: I share a streaming account with my dad and he makes playlists for me now and then. He continuously adds music to playlists that he’s categorized, like songs that are good for sleeping or that I have liked ever since I was little. He never said it directly, but it made me feel he’s always watching over me without having to say a word and he’s always been there for me.

Why do you so carefully choose to cover songs like “Wonder” and “you!” that reflect your tastes and sentiments?

BEOMGYU: The only thing that lets me fill up a whole song with my voice and express myself completely in video is a cover song, and that’s why I wanted to express myself in that way. I wanted to show people what kind of voice I have and I felt that genre would showcase my voice best. We make the songs on our albums as a group, so we have to sing in a way that harmonizes with the idea behind each song and with all the other members. My cover songs are a slight rebellion against that limitation. (laughs) With “Wonder” I wanted to show a side of me that was different from the bright me everyone knows, while “you!” was about expressing how thankful I am for certain people. I thought MOA would really like it if I could shoot “you!” in Japan, and I was lucky enough to be able to film it in Tokyo.

I feel like you’re someone who knows what he wants, what’s happening around him and understands himself really well.

BEOMGYU: I reflect a lot on myself—how I feel at a given moment, and even what I can do if I feel personally underwhelmed about something regarding an album we made. I think that’s possible because I continuously look back on those seemingly insignificant thoughts and feelings instead of overlooking them.

What made you think during the world tour that you’re “nothing without MOA”?

BEOMGYU: I couldn’t be a part of all the performances during the tour because I wasn’t feeling well. I really revealed my vulnerable side to MOA. But they cheered for me all the same when I got back on stage, they smiled with us when we sang happy songs, cried with us when we sang sad songs, and seeing that filled me with so much strength. I could feel that they were understanding of me no matter what was happening with me and that they love me. So partway through when I had to leave the stage I thought about how the people there had been waiting just for that day, and I decided I had to at least try to make it to the end of the performance even if I felt like I reached my limit and had to get off again, and went back on stage. Most importantly, I didn’t want to give up on myself and admit defeat.

You also said that only made you more certain why you do the work you do and made you love it that much more.

BEOMGYU: I was actually a little more accustomed to MOA not being there because of the pandemic stretching on and on so long. Spending that time together laughing and crying made me think I shouldn’t assign any particular meaning to the past three years when we couldn’t see MOA. I picked up a paper airplane at the last concert that said, “I was having a hard time and feeling sick but I’m better now thanks to you guys.” It was really, really comforting to me because it was the exact same thing I felt. That I’m no different from anybody else and can still be such a big source of strength to someone, and that I can get strength from this many people—I felt that’s the sense of meaning that exists between singers and fans. That’s when that idea really solidified for me: I have to put even more effort into my singing and dancing for these people.

#txt #tomorrow x together #230210 #weverse magazine #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION #The Name Chapter

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ceevee5 · 2 years

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Adrienne Ayres, 69, retired from mental health social work in 2014. “I now have hardly any savings,” she says. “When you retire, the things [money coming in] can be very small. So I do things like selling clothes on eBay. Things like that pick up a few quid, but if you can have an extra tenner in your hand that stops you taking it out of the bank … Ayres lives alone and says she is very anxious about rising costs. “I shop economically but the cost of living has risen way beyond my pension,” she says. “Food particularly. I used to be able to keep it down to £50 [a week]. But now if I’m not careful I get up to £80. So I’ve seen £30 [extra] going on a food bill very easily in the last few months.” She has also seen her monthly energy costs rise by £26 a month over the last year. “I’m barely cooking,” she says. “And yet it’s gone up that amount, so what is going to happen when the heating goes on?” Though Ayres owns her own home, she is worried about the future. “I’m a lot better off than many women my age but the coming decade, the 70s, is a challenge,” she says. “When I first trained as a social worker I saw elderly people living in abject poverty, I saw horrid care homes smelling of urine. I imagined that by the time I retired we would have improved how we cared for older people. That’s the measure of a civilised society, isn’t it?”

#uk politics #cost of living #poverty #pensioner poverty

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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the way of the househusband — levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (husband! levi ackerman x ceo wifey! reader)

ೃ There is the “ideal” nuclear family. The one composed of a working husband with a well-paying 9 to 5 job, loving housewife who cooks and cleans, and adoring children who do well in school. However, that idealization is looong gone. What about you and your family? You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up Company who ain’t no trophy wife, Your husband hails from the last line of Ackermans and who temporarily resigns from being a vice executive of your company (just because he doesn’t want to work with young, feeling philanthropist, and genius GenZers) to become a hands-on househusband, and then there’s your little daughter who has the most inquisitive mind and adventurous heart who idolizes her doting father in every shape, way, and form. A month’s absence in your home (due to a business trip) could lead to many many things. But, your husband randomly publishing a self-help book on parenting and being a househusband is not one of those things.

ೃ genre and warnings: modern au, domestic fluff, baby au, husband au,

ೃ my nav → my aot masterlist

ೃ 4k words

ೃ Will be referring to hanji as “aunkling” (a cute nickname that some kiddos use to refer to their non-binary relatives <3) because there are no official non-binary terms for aunt and uncle! + your daughter with levi is named amelia and she is just the most precious cinnamon roll

It’s done.

The Business Trip is finally over.

A long and painful month of no hugs and playdates with your little princess, Amelia and no time to be pampered with love and affection from your husband, Levi was finally over!

Sometimes, you wonder how you were even able to survive these long-ass trips and conferences. Sure, these month-long trips only happened once a year, but the thought of Amelia getting older and having to miss a day of seeing her grow up and discover the world, really hurt you as all mothers would. Video Calls were enough to satisfy you and give you happy hormones even for just a short while, but still- the longer you’re not with them, the more the yearning lengthens until you’re just riddled with endless thoughts of wanting to get home as soon as possible.

First, let’s set things straight: You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up company who was born into a middle-class family and rose her way up to success. It’s as cliche as it gets but hey! Living a life as if you were in a romantic comedy was the best compliment you’ve ever gotten.

Along with that, as far as rich families in rom-coms and coming of age movies go, are they all dysfunctional in reality? Not really. Or at least you and Levi promised each other not to end up like that. The Rich Girl meets Poor Boy (with a tragic backstory) cliche however? Yea, that’s a pretty accurate way to describe your love story. Meeting the love of your life in a Coffee Shop is actually pretty common and happens to a lot of people apparently. When Erwin Smith, Levi’s best friend (who is too smart and self-aware to fit the role of a rom-com sidekick by the way) approaches your table to ask if he and Levi could sit with you. (Because of all the days the cafe would be packed, it would be that day.) You said yes of course, and Erwin began oversharing details about the raven-haired man and you were all too invested in learning more about him anyway. Levi grew up in the orphanage after his mother had died and his father was the biggest asshole on the planet for never showing his face, he had to fend for himself after he outgrew the foster system. Starting out as an espionage in an illegal underground gambling empire to a bookkeeper at the Smiths’ bookshop. (Although this is a story for another day)

Internally swooning over his pretty eyes and resting bitch face...it didn’t take long until the two of you fell in love and... the rest was history!

You come home to your lavish yet homey apartment in 21 West End Avenue Manhattan to be surprised by your father-daughter duo absolutely knocked out on the couch. Amelia was snuggled up to her father, her feet on his lap and a sleeping position you could not possibly comprehend, a Disney movie playing in the background, and both of them were wearing matching Minion onesies whilst yours was folded neatly on the coffee table just waiting to be worn by you when you got home.

It was a rare sight to see and you can’t help but just stare lovingly at the wonderful scene before you. Not only was it rare to see Amelia asleep before seeing you (or in the case of your business trips, during your daily video calls with them) but it was also rare to see your husband sleeping so soundly and his insomnia not kicking in.

Amelia hears your footsteps, her eyes are still shut as she tries to predict what you will do next. She finally assesses when she will make her move and surprise you when you place another fleece blanket on top of them and plant a kiss on both of their temples. your daughter’s eyes suddenly flutter open. Her eyes beaming and glowing off the same light that twinkled in her father’s as she jumps off the couch, making sure not to wake up Levi.

“MOMMY!” She screams in the most quiet volume her cute voice could muster. She runs up to you and envelops you in a tight hug, jumping up and down as she does so. “I missed you Mommy! I missed you soooo much! How was sandbox in K-korea!? Was there a lot of sand!? Did you have a lot of pwaymates there!?”

You giggle at your daughter’s enthusiasm, combing your fingers through her hair. “Lili, Sandbox is like the Silicon Valley of Korea. It isn’t necessarily a sandbox like in a playground, baby.”

“OOOH! JUST LIKE SIWICON VAWWEY!” She chirps, tightening her hug and reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “AH WAIT!” She gently pushes you away and makes a beeline to her room. “ME AND DADDY HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU! BUT CLOSE YOUR EYES FIRST OWKAAY?!” She calls out from her room and you shout back a “yes!” to her in between your giggles, unable to contain the sudden rush of serotonin your daughter had given you from her simple yet adorable antics.

Another trope that you can debunk is that rich moms can be a hands-on parent too! After your maternity leave ended and when Amelia had finally reached her toddler years, you absolutely made sure that you were going to take care of her every second, minute, hour and day of your life. As soon as she turned two, she became the inquisitive, smart and ever so curious little girl you and Levi had always hoped for. She had your (h/c) hair and Levi’s icy yet warm and loving milky grey eyes. If the color of Levi’s reminded you of dark and stormy clouds, Amelia’s was gleaming. Like that of the clouds after a terrible storm. She was an absolute blessing and although you weren’t a perfect mother, (spoiling her more than you should) Levi was an amazing father. Growing up without parents was tough for him and he was going to make sure that Amelia is going to have an amazing childhood and be surrounded by the love of two parents that he never had and never got to experience.

You always and will forever have trust in Levi. There has never been a day where you doubted him. Despite the impressions and assumptions that people have of him. How he was cold, scary, and even calculating. But, you are always quick to shut down those rumors. They don’t know the Levi Ackerman behind the cold and mighty front he shows. He is a man who has gone through so much and yet has so much love and care to give. How he notices and remembers the littlest details, how he never takes anything for granted and how he loves and cherishes everything so wholeheartedly.

When Amelia turned six, you sadly had to go back to work formally. Right timing too because your genius (with very himbo tendencies) younger cousin, Eren, was about to be part of your start-up company and he had a lot of amazing plans that had to come into fruition. Even bringing in a group of his own friends (who all graduated in MIT by the way!) who are willing to contribute so many amazing ideas and hackathons that were just waiting to happen.

The entrance of these youthful and hopeful genius entrepreneurs also brought about the temporary exit of your very own husband from your very own company. Apparently, working with newly graduated Gen Zers (as a millennial) was too much for him. They were nice and they were going to be a very integral part of the company. But, the boomer inside Levi can’t just can’t keep up with this sudden surge of energy and youthfulness within the higher-ups. It was also a great opportunity for him to take care of Amelia even more. So, you didn’t stop him from doing so!

It’s been a year since he temporarily resigned and became an official-unofficial househusband. Or as your best friend Hanji likes to put it, You are the Girl Boss and he is the Male Wife. Amelia is now 7 years old and she’s currently taking Ballet classes (Levi picks her up during the weekdays, and the both of you pick her up on the weekends) and has developed a hyperfixation over Sanrio Characters and the Disney movie, Frozen. She was growing up to be a wonderful girl and you just can’t wait to hear what she and Levi had done during your absence.

She skips her way back to you, a book tightly clutched in her hands. “SURPRISE!” Amelia gingerly places a book on your hand. You open your eyes and tilt your head in question at the piece of literature she had just given you as you read the title aloud. “The Way of the House Husband… written by Levi Ackerman.” Your eyes shift to a little circle on the lower side of the cover, “The husband of (Y/N) Ackerman, the CEO of Survey Corp Tech…!?”

“Daddy and I made a book while you were away!” She claps her hands together and grabs the book back from you, turning it to the first page. “See there’s even a dedication! To (Y/N) and Amelia! The two brightest stars in my galaxy!”

“Oh that’s too cheesy. No way would your dad write something like this out of the blue, Lili.” You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. Your daughter looks at you with downcast eyes while you were still trying to process that your husband literally just wrote a whole-ass book while you were away. “Who helped publish this so quickly, Amelia?”

“Uncle Erwin of course!” She’s frowning for one second and now she’s beaming at you again. “Please please read it mommy! Me and daddy worked really really hard on it!” She taps the hardbound cover of the book in rhythms. “This is the Amelia Edition! Daddy said he cut out some stuff so that it would be okay for me to read and for me to give to you once you get home! It’s my come back home gift for you mommy!” She moves the book to your lap and hops up next to you on the loveseat that you were sitting on. Before you know it, Amelia is resting her head on your shoulder and coaxing you to start reading to her like it was a bedtime story.

You clear your throat and hold her by the waist so that she can feel more secure in her seat. “Okay… okay… let’s begin shall we? In a kingdom far far away…”

“That’s not how the book is like mommy! Read it properly like the way daddy did!”

“I was just joking, honey. Let’s get started. Rule #1 of the House Husband is…”

Rule #1: Fathers, be good to your children. You are the weight of their world.

“One thing I learned as soon as I was at home practically 24/7 is that your child will be more cautious and weary of you. They will observe you because they look up to you. They will watch your every move, follow you around, and will imitate whatever you say and whatever they hear from you. Talk to them, teach them things they need to know, support them in their hobbies, interests, and even if you have to be the extra princess in her tea party, do it. The thing is, you will leave an eternal mark on the hearts of your children.”

Amelia got even more closer to Levi when he was finally stationed at home. Always grinning from ear to ear and boasting to her classmates how cool her dad was whenever he would pick her up from school. She was proud to tell them Levi’s heritage even if Amelia never got to meet her Grandma Ackerman and Grandpa Ackerman. When Levi would take her out for errands, may they be groceries, cleaning the house, baking, cooking, laundry, or just going on his morning jog, Amelia would be there to accompany him. In fact, she’s gone shopping with Levi so many times that she has memorized the brand names of cleaning detergent and bleach before she could even memorize the multiplication table.

She’s even caught up with her father’s cynical sense of humor. And because of that, Levi had to tone down on his sardonic jokes around the little girl. Levi wasn’t necessarily physically affectionate but he does soften around Amelia as the little girl never fails to supply him with endless hugs and kisses on the cheek. She may be both a Mommy’s and Daddy’s girl, but the way she looks up to Levi is the kind of father-daughter bond that you hardly see in real life. She aspires to be like him. Even if there were times where she would be scolded by you both, (most especially Levi) she never took that against you. She sees all the good and positive sides of your husband that others outside of your circle fail to see.

Rule #2: Let your children know that they have other “guardian angels” who they can rely on aside from their parents.

“My daughter has both my wife and I’s best friends to learn from or to look up to. Her kooky aunkling and her blunt uncle have become one of the most precious people in her life. Even the young ins working at Survey Corp Tech have become older siblings to her and get along with her so well. Remember that there will always be close relatives or friends who can and will help them when they lose their way. Let them spread sunshine and love to others.”

Whether it’s a regular trip to Coney Island or your monthly trips to Disneyland, Hanji or Erwin would totally tag along. Amelia absolutely loves and vibes with Hanji’s quirkiness so well. They would wear matching Mickey Mouse ears, ride the kiddie roller coaster that Amelia wanted to ride on a million times per visit, buy her all the ice cream and treats she wants (despite Levi’s warnings and the reprimanding that Hanji has to suffer from the both of you right after.) They just want Amelia to experience all the fun, the joy, and innocence of living in the moment. As a kid, it’s better if she sees how precious life is, how she should cherish it and that she doesn’t have to grow up so fast just yet.

Erwin on the other hand, brought out Amelia’s intellectual side more. As soon as a new and critically acclaimed children’s book hit the shelves, you bet Amelia has a copy right away. Whenever Levi would take her to Erwin’s bookstore, she wanders around like it’s this huge mysterious archive that can only be accessed by her. The Adults section is forbidden, so were the cheap romance novels in the back, and the books written by youtubers. God forbid she read those. When her Uncle Erwin got her into reading Roald Dahl’s children’s books, you had to watch Amelia run around the penthouse with a little red ribbon tied on top of her hair, wanting to be referred to as Matilda, along with you and Levi having to pretend that she had telekinetic powers for 6 months straight. It was her cutest phase yet and you just know there were many more to come.

There were also Eren and his friends who loved Amelia dearly whenever she came over to visit. Your little cousin refused to be called Uncle Eren and instead wanted to be called big bro, and in which Amelia happily complied. Whenever it was Amelia’s weekly “Visit Mommy at Work” day, she had her own room in your office where Eren and your other young associates would babysit her. In fact, they would actually take turns in babysitting at your condo whenever you and Levi went out for date night. Amelia was introduced to playing video games like Animal Crossing and Pokemon solely because of them (more specifically because of big bro Jean, big sis Sasha, and big bro connie.) They even ended up influencing her to watch anime when her big brother “Minmin” and big sis “Mimi” accidentally left the TV on and Amelia literally binge-watched half of the existing Studio Ghibli movies to this date.

Rule #3: Your children will think that you are Superman or Iron Man. Make sure to act like them and never let them down by ruining their innocence and imagination.”

(A little note was attached to this page: Please don’t let Amelia read this. Read her a fairy tale instead while skimming through this.)

“It all started when my daughter found an entire encyclopedia on ancient and legendary family clans around the world. The Ackerman clan was on the very first page after the intro and she read through all 50 pages of it. The look of awe on her face when she read that her dad’s ancestors exhibit physical abilities much higher than the average human. In a 7 year old’s mind and vocabulary, that automatically translates to a superhero akin to that of Superman.

Ever since then, My daughter has forced me to become more creative with doing very mundane tasks and chores. I pretend to have superpowers. Such as teleporting around the house whilst cleaning. I tell her to close her eyes or else my teleportation powers won’t work. Then when I cook in the kitchen and she watches me intently, I tell her that the salt and pepper have magical properties that only I can touch and hold because to her, at that moment, I was “Doctor Stwange.”

and one time, when I picked her up from school, she was babbling on about how she told her friends and playmates that she had two superhero parents she was very proud of. Then one of the other kids asked if I was a strong soldier who killed huge humanoid monsters using sharp blades. To which I replied that could have possibly happened in a different universe. Her hearty laughs and giggles whenever she sees me using my superpowers makes me anxious over the fact I have to tell her someday that my powers never existed.”

Whilst you were on your monthly trip, you and Levi would have private video calls whenever Amelia was finally put to bed. There, he told you about what happened in Amelia’s ballet classes that week and how the single mothers were more persistent than usual.

They could clearly see that Levi was not interested but apparently the fact that your husband waving his ring finger every single time someone approached him wasn’t obvious enough, apparently the fact that he was married made the risk even more worth it to these prying moms who had nothing better to do. It wasn’t until Amelia had enough and respectfully called them out by saying that his dad was married and he was never going to be interested in Karens (a slang word that she learned from Eren and friends) Since then, the invasion of parent to parent boundaries had finally stopped. Levi was very relieved and at ease whilst telling you the story yet you were laughing your heart out at the ingenious remarks of your very own daughter on top of the irresistible charm and looks of your own husband that made single mothers be damned.

Rule #4: The most important rule of all: Love your spouse as you want your children to be loved in the future.

“Since my wife is on a business trip right now as I type this and she may or may not know that I had written this book for her to read when she comes home, my daughter came up to me a few days ago and told me how she missed her mom so much. The video calls we had every night were not enough to satisfy her for the remaining days her mother would be gone. She then proceeds to tell me that she loves the way I love (Y/N). My daughter loved how patient I was and how I supported her through every endeavor that her mother had ever thought up with that brilliant mind of hers. She mentioned how I was there for her through every success and failure, through hardships, difficulties and misunderstandings. My daughter was happy because I stuck with her mother through everything. All the pain, suffering, conflicts that we both experienced individually and as husband and wife. Little ears and little eyes are watching and observing the actions and sweet gestures of their parents. Make sure to remember that.”

“What is gravy (grief) if not love persevewing?” (persevering) My daughter had even recounted a quote from the Disney Marvel show, WandaVision just to prove a point to me. That was when I realized something and decided to list down a few things:

1. The best lovers are the best of friends.

Levi’s relationship with you was rocky at first simply because the two of you didn’t have a lot in common. Your personalities clashed and the two of you could barely make things work in the beginning. He was always well-dressed, on time, and was very prim and proper. However, Levi was cold, strict, and unapproachable. You on the other-hand were quite the opposite. You used to arrive late, didn’t care too much about your style as long as you wore the appropriate outfit, but you were carefree, laidback and friendly. Having to set aside your differences was a process that required sacrifice, time, and effort. It took long and a lot of petty arguments before the two of you fully understood each other, accepted each other's faults and quirks, and became even closer. Both as friends and lovers. You and Levi treat each other not as just the “person I love and I’m married to for the rest of my life”, but also as a best friend for life. Soulmates

2. Their dreams are just as important as yours.

Levi’s dream was to open up a tea shop and start a family with you. That was all he ever wanted. The blissful simplicity of his in comparison to your techy and out of this world ambitions, goes to show how much they weigh as aspirations and wants in life. You have to value your significant other’s dreams and ambitions just as much as you highly value yours. No matter how hard or how simple they are, the both of you can achieve it with the help of each other. The only thing left in your agenda was to open up his long-awaited Tea Shop. You were about to surprise him with the plans of opening one up on the day of his birthday, and you just can’t wait for that day to finally come.

3. You have to let them be free.

Levi absolutely knew what he was getting into when he met you. It was love at first sight when he met you, He drunkenly admitted that one time when he’s had too much champagne on your friday date night. He knew that you were an adventurer. A wandering soul who had a goal and a purpose set in stone. He always knew you were going to reach greater heights and he knew that you would never leave him behind and would always have him go on a ride. He’s always known about your capabilities and your potential and he didn’t want you to stray away from that. And, if the time were to come that you had to leave him behind to soar greater heights, he’d understand that. He’d always let you be free and make sure you don’t fly too close to the sun. That was just how selfless Levi is. The thing is, he knows you would do the same for him. It was a perfect balance.

4. It is an honor to love and to be loved by them.

To be wrapped in the arms of someone who feels like home or has become the definition of home, To be stargazing with on a chilly summer night in where you talk about your future and your plans, To be sharing a cup of coffee or tea with in the morning and begrudgingly dancing with you against his will, To be watching your child playing in her room and do nothing but look adoringly at the most precious soul to have ever been produced by your encompassing love, and to be spending the rest of your life with someone who has done nothing but be with you through every pivotal moment in your life was such an honor.

It is an honor to be loved by Levi, as he is honored to be loved by you.

“...The end.” You close the book with a deep but contented sigh. Tears were welling up in your eyes and you’re trying your best not to break down in front of Amelia.

“Mommy… are you crying?” She tilts her head in inquiry. “Is it because you’re tired from work?”

“No. baby. These are happy tears, Lili. Don’t worry.”

Before you could speak up once more, you notice Levi had slowly sprung up from the couch, and began to stretch his arms. His eyes widen when he sees you from the opposite couch. “(Y/N)... you were supposed to arrive at 6 AM right? Amelia and I were supposed to pick you-”

Amelia opens her mouth to speak as she jumps down from the couch and crawls up to sit next to Levi. “Daddy! I showed Mommy the book you wrote! She loved it! Right, Mommy?”

“You did?” Your husband perks up from his seat, clearing his throat. “T-that’s not the entire book yet by the way. We had to give back the original copies to Erwin for reprinting. The self-help book is currently rising up the charts to be a New York Times Best Seller.”

Before Levi could properly react, you move to the free space on the couch next to him. Holding his hand and gazing into his forlorn yet loving eyes, you muttered. “Love, that’s amazing. I’m really really proud of you. Next time though, please do tell me that you’ve written a self-help book and dethroned all those mommy authors from the bestselling charts.”

Levi stifles a laugh, stroking your thumb and bringing you and Amelia closer to him for warmth. “I will. I will.”

Amelia looks up at the two of you, squeezing out of the sandwich, so that you and Levi can have your quality time with each other. “Goodnight Mom! Goodnight Dad!” She approaches the two of you so that she can be given her nightly kiss on the cheek as she retreats to her room.

“What if I write a novel too?” You joke, snuggling up to Levi, your husband wrapping his arm around you. “The title could be… The way of the Wife boss?”

“That could be a good sequel. A shared book universe. Then, Amelia could continue the collection when we’re old and sour as hell.” Levi mused.

“Pfft. I guess only time will tell. I love you Levi.”

“I love you too (Y/N).”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could.

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself.

For example, right now.

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder.

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took.

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk.

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere.

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The world works in mysterious ways.

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him.

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.”

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow.

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay.

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was on Harry’s mind.

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things.

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month.

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate.

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again.

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.”

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her.

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated.

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was.

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura.

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well.

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time.

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?”

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back.

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…”

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?”

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her.

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted.

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #aura #thanks for reading!

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ellipsesarefun · 2 years

Note

Fanfic request! I after reading your other fanfics and I loved them! I was hope if you could the prompt “I think you need a doctor” for damirae. I love your writing keep up the great work

It's donneeeeee it's done it's done it's doneeee omgomgomgomg T_T thank you so much for this request... I tried my best with this oneeee.. Did some worldbuilding and stuff... Have at it with MedStudent!Raven AU!

This is the last request I'm taking. :)

Gonna put this on AO3 too <3 Link is upppp <3

DAMIRAE PROMPT REQUEST 13 "You need a doctor."

It's an early Sunday morning in StarFire's Cafe, with a hint of a sunlit glow that drizzles over the city's horizon and a light traffic that accentuates the silent and vibrant scenery. At this point, many citizens are still in their beds with a peaceful day waiting for them….

...and then there's Raven who's shoving 300+ pages of lecture transcripts into her brain for an 80 point evaluation exam on Respiratory diseases.

Her mobile phone beside the pile of sheets lights up, catching her attention. She releases her pen and taps on the screen to check the message. Raven holds back a groan only for a heavy sigh to come out.

It's not unusual for a client to seek her consult on another case involving dark magic right when she has a pile of tasks stacked up for the week.

She highlights some lines and scratches some notes with increasing fervor until the end of the page. The door bell chimes, and she finds a familiar green face waving at her. Raven pauses to raise an eyebrow in recognition, taking a sip of a still chilly Matcha frappe, before she resumes scribbling her last few sentences. Her morning companion, Garfield, busies himself behind the counter, only visiting her table to place a plate of bacon egg sandwich.

"Thanks Gar." She says as she stops her scribbling to take a bite. He shoots her a grin. For someone who just finished a 3-month mission, Garfield manages to appear like he never once had a bruise in his life. His dark eyebags say otherwise.

Raven knows the Night Shift has ended when he's around. Cyborg and Starfire are usually the ones who take care of their night customers. Demons, sorcerers, and other supernatural heroes (and antiheroes) from this realm and other realms frequent this café for business dealings rather than pleasure. She may have seen Zatanna with Doctor Fate and Batman once when she and the other Titans met for another recon mission, but that's a rarity. Night Shift has a magic protocol she herself created (protection spells, invisibility spells, offensive spells, and the like) in order to produce a neutral environment for the purpose of any legal (and allegedly illegal) dealings.

Day Shifts, starting now as the first few customers enter the shop, are for humans.

"Did you check your phone?" Garfield asks while he returns to the table behind the counter, preparing for the day.

"Already did." She replies right before her cellphone receives another message.

"Check again!" He says, chuckling at her gruntled dismay.

Raven touches the phone screen, checking that the message she received was from Damian Wayne, asking (more like demanding) “her assistance over certain perilous matters of the darkest magics.” She ignores the thrill (and a boost to her ego) at the sight of Damian Wayne (who seems to have an annoying glaring problem with her) seeking for her consult. He has a lot of connections (from both villains and heroes) and could have gone for anyone else like Zatanna or Zach through Batman. The Zatara cousins are notoriously famous in all magic communities. Any realms she travels or leisures into and she hears stories of them and not any of them are the same.

Still, as flattered as she is at his gesture no matter how it was only for business and not pleasure, she ignores his message. Her exam isn’t going anywhere soon and Raven does not want to delve into her own complicated feelings with her own soulmate as of the moment. Her emotions, like energy work, take time and effort to untangle themselves. Her heritage and her practice amplify them and while she has more grip with her own empathic abilities, mishaps are unavoidable.

And she doesn’t want to deal with them right now. She’s taken precautions to protect her energy and keep a balanced energy field around her and fortunately for her, humans rarely venture to this coffee shop on Sunday mornings so few customers are around as of the moment.

Unfortunately, today has other plans for her when she catches Damian’s energy at cafe’s alleyway.

Immediately, Raven hovers her hands as subtle as she can over the table and closes her eyes. She targets the surge of energy, and determines that he is alive but feels the dark energy lingering in his wounds. She takes a deep breath and exhales, visualizing an invisible barrier to keep non-Titans and villains away.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." Once the spell activates, she quickly shoves her stuff into her back and shoots up from her seat, leaving the unfinished beverage she ordered. It's not unusual for students to come and go so she slips past the now crowded line without notice. By the time she exits out of the cafe, her glamour spell has already been on and she's now in her hero uniform.

Raven makes a turn for the alleyway. She doesn't even have to look elsewhere to find his body, not in this cramped space and the ghastly smell of the garbage containers. On instinct, she casts an air freshener spell, flooding the alleyway with a mild floral scent.

Raven pauses as she catches the sight of his body. He's lying supine among the black trash bags, dark magic oozing from his extremities and at the right hypogastric area of his abdomen. It appeared as if someone just dumped him there.

Or... no. It wasn't that someone dropped him from a high area but more so that someone shot him with dark magic and Robin, being Robin, evaded the perpetrator as best as he could and dumped himself into the nearest area that's securely warded by her magic.

"Hello there, fellow citizen." Raven greets him with the usual flat look but she's aware that he sees the amused gleam shining through her lavender eyes.

"Hello." He says through ragged breaths but she hears, "Where the fuck have you been?" from the tone of his voice.

"That looks broken. You need a doctor." She says and it earns a grunt from the boy wonder himself. The silent judgment is already heavy with tension so she eases her energy field in, and focuses her attention on his wounds instead. She kneels by his side and hovers her hands over his body, palms and fingers glowing in deep lavender.

So far nothing damaging along his chest and upper abdominal area. She doesn’t sense any fractures along the trunk, extremities, and spinal area. Only open wounds are the ones brimming with dark magic. But wait-

Shit.

The dark magic is gradually eating through his flesh. So far the upper extremities and the abdomen have superficial damage but it can’t be said for the one on his right shank. Raven keeps her glowing hand hovered on the flesh.

They’re past dermis the now, she notes, but it’s only scratched the surface of the muscle tissue. She calculates that she still has enough time but at the unknowable rate of which the magic is eating at him, it would have been a lot more fatal by the next hour.

It’s now or never, she supposes. She isn’t familiar with the source of the magic but nevertheless, it can be transmuted.

The sorceress keeps her magic glow throughout his body and stands in front of him. She closes her eyes with her palms towards the sky and takes a deep breath, drawing out her mystic power from within, in preparation. She mutters a warding spell and a glowing purple bubble encapsulates the two, containing the unknown magic within.

Raven lifts her arms to the sky and her sigil appears right where they’re situated, glowing brighter than it usually does.

"By the power of Azarath, I seek your guidance. Grant me the strength and the courage to undo the sorcery done on this poor, wretched soul." She whispers. As if to answer her prayer, she feels the power within her brighten ten-fold, engulfing her and Damian in this majestic, blinding white light...

"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos."

..until suddenly, there is nothing but the light.

...

Everything returns to its normal state of equilibrium. Raven completes the ritual and the ward and sigil all dissipate, leaving her with Robin absent of any dark magic. Still, she crouches down again and lifts her glowing white hands towards him, checking for his vitals.

So far, blood pressure, heart rate, and respiratory rate all have normal measurements. There is absence of any contusions, lacerations, abrasions, penetrating wounds, or any other type of wound. The ones done by the dark magic are fully healed and there are no lingering scars.

She, however, feels the fatigue. Whether it's coming from him or her, she can't tell at this point. That was a powerful spell and Raven is going to need all the mental and emotional strength for tomorrow's exam. She reminds herself to sign a leave of absence for a month because ward work is coming for her right after that exam and she needs to amp up her energy shields.

Raven watches his face in the soft incandescence of her lingering magic and.. as much as she feels endeared by him right now, she lets herself feel the annoyance at the emergency call on a Sunday morning.

By Azarath, do they need more sorcerers. This fuckery has to stop.

She is definitely changing numbers.

#damirae #Damian Wayne #Damian Al Ghul #Raven Roth #ellipsesarefun writes #writing practice

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

Text

🕯Anon said: just wanna say I adore your writing and how you write Reiner and the kids and the other warriors is my favourite thing ever !! I just wanna give them all hugs :) do u have any hcs for the types of jobs you see them all doing in modernverse ?🕯

The types of jobs they have in modern au

{Annie, Bertolt, Colt, Marcel, Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Zeke, }

{Implied Reiner x reader}

{ "Porto" 1935 by Renato Natali 1883-1979 }

Annie is an Animal rescue worker.

Having had experience as a dog trainer before, it wasn't hard to find a full time job at her local shelter after graduating high school, having volunteered there before.

With time, effort and a lot of energy she made her way into the position of "animal control officer" now she spends her days busting animal's abusers doors and rescuing injured or neglected pets.

With long shifts and a high maintenance job, her time was all poured into her work. Usually she'd be exhausted after a long day.

Despite that, she's fulfilled and satisfied with her job. Not having to deal with a lot of people is a plus too, it's a hard job yes but she prefers it this way.

Her friends are bumped about not being able to see her a lot but they understand, plus she keeps in touch with them by lurking in the group chat only to send a snarky remark to stir the pot every now and then.

Bertolt sees her everyday because they work at the same animal shelter, even if their jobs are different they still walk home together, she also met some different people like Hitch and Marco at her job.

The kids love her job, they think it's badass, especially Gabi and Udo. Gabi because Annie gets to kick people in the face and Udo because he genuinely cares about animals.

She'd never tell anyone this, but part of the reason she wanted the job was because she felt guilty for her past self and wanted to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Bertolt is a veterinarian.

Having changed his mind post graduation and going to college instead of with Reiner, he graduated after 4 years of studying and is currently working with Annie at the local shelter while also planning to open his own clinic one day.

He takes some animals under his personal care for weeks or months even till they get adopted, he fears something bad will happen to the weak or ill ones if left at the shelter overnight.

Just like Annie, the job takes a lot of his time, not to mention caring for animals off of work. So he's in the same situation as her, but for the sake of his best friend he still finds time to visit and hang out once a week.

Reiner and him still text daily, it's mostly pictures Bertolt took of the animals, Annie on her break, interesting plants he finds along the way. And Reiner replies with pictures of the kids.

They still find time to play basketball together, they try to keep it a secret from Annie because she will kick their ass in it.

Bertolt is comfortable with his job, he feels like he belongs and likes being needed. Yes the long hours are a con but seeing the fruits of his labour grow and get better day by day makes it all worth it.

The kids like visiting his house because there usually will be a new dog or some animal in there every month or so, Reiner makes sure they don't bother the animals.

Something he's never told anyone is a big part of the reason he changed his mind last minute was because Animals feel much safer and secure for him to work with than humans.

Colt is a college student working part time.

He's majoring in nursing, being a four years degree he's trying to balance his studies with work and taking care of Falco.

Zeke offered him to work full time after graduation at his clinic, since he's been working part time there for a while and the pay is good, plus it's really convenientnal.

He has worked different part time jobs in the past like a barista, flower shop assistant, tutor, kindergarten teacher, etc.

Between all his responsibilities he barely has time for himself, his courses end right before his work starts and the small bits in-between is spent on Falco and his friends. Zeke and Pieck try to take some of his responsibility but he refuses saying it's the least he could do to Falco.

He's really good at his job like multitasking, reading people, gaining their trust and having high stamina that he could stay for night shifts even.

He relies on coffee a lot.

Falco sees him as a real life superhero, they weren't that close before but after the incident he really started appreciating his big brother.

Something he keeps inside is that despite pursuing this job because he genuinely wanted to make a difference in people's lives and help the sick, he also felt a crushing guilt after his parents passed away, and so he's trying to save other people's lives now instead.

Marcel is a pilot.

It's a dream he always had since middle school, soon after graduation he joined the military to gain enough flying hours and experience to apply to a commercial airline after taking some mathematics, aviation and some general flying courses.

He was officially hired as a pilot after getting his first class medical certificate to check his health.

His work isn't measured by hours to him but by days, he needs to be available 24/7 in case of an emergency call. Now he's working overseas and far away from his friends.

You've actually never met Marcel, only seen pictures of him and received letters. The person he keeps in touch with the most is Porco.

He likes his work, it's his dream. He doesn't like the work hours and being so absent from his friends and brother, he misses them so much at times.

Pieck is a tattoo artist.

Her shop is actually her old flower shop after she decided to change her career. She's always been good with plants and taking care of them, at that time Colt worked as her assistant.

It wasn't till later after some years of practice and training under other artists that she was confident enough about her skills to start the project

Her art is full of life, mesmerising and beautiful. She puts her soul in every piece and has gained a good reputation because of it, plus having really high ratings and strict hygiene rules, no health inspector could ever challenge her.

Having her own independent work meant that she has a very flexible schedule, being mostly free ment she could pursue other hobbies like gardening.

A peaceful and simple life where she can indulge in her art and be happy is all she ever wanted

Porco is a frequent customer of hers that gets a family discount, Zeke came once before and later sent his friend, a really tall and blonde woman who became her most frequent customer.

Zofia thinks her work is really cool and wants to go and just watch her do her thing, but it's frowned upon to have a kid just sitting at a tattoo shop.

Despite changing into this career, the town people still think of her as the sweet flower shop lady.

Porco is a bartender.

That job came to him by accident more than anything, he was working part time as a bouncer in a local bar but a slot was open after the old bartender suddenly quit and he gave it a chance.

He didn't expect to love it so much, neither did he know about his hidden talent in mixing drinks. So he took it as full time and changed to better bars after gaining the experience he needed.

Being naturally charismatic and good at influencing people, while also multitasking in making drinks and keeping a conversation going, he was instantly a hit in whatever place he worked at.

Working the night shift ment he's mostly free in the morning, he tries to help Pieck with her gardening and is actually attempting to grow some plants at his house.

Naturally whenever there's a gathering, he's the one mixing drinks and being the self assigned bartender who openly judges his friends for their choice in drinks. The charismatic persona being thrown out the window and replaced by a no mouth filter.

He genuinely cares tho, he's the one taking care of someone when they drink more they can handle. It's mostly Colt who underestimates his drinks and is left clinging to Porco who drives him home.

Because of his line of work, tattoos and general brash personality, the kids' parents don't like him even one bit. They're suspicious of him no matter how many times Reiner assures them he's trustworthy.

It's actually only Colt who trusts Falco with him, and maybe Zofia's mom who is at the bar every weekend.

Reiner is a firefighter.

With his mother pushing him into this line of work, he applied for the physical and psychological exams after graduation before getting accepted. He wasn't unprepared per say but actually being in that line of work was more than he could ever prepare for.

It instantly took a great hit at his mental health, so much in fact that he was thankful Bertolt changed his mind last minute and didn't follow him in this job.

It was both everything he ever wanted, like saving people, helping children, animals and knowing it's him who saved them even if it means putting his own life at risk.

But also everything he hated, like the hunting faces and screams of the people who were far too gone for him to save, the recurring nightmares and constant guilt paired with imposter syndrome.

He works a 24/72 shift, meaning he works for a whole day before getting 3 days off. Approximately only working 7-8 days a month, not to mention unpaid leave, sick days and holidays.

So it both gave him a really tight schedule on some days and on others more free time than he knows what to do with, that's why he naturally took the main role of being the kid's caretaker. Looking after his little cousins genuinely helped him and he liked playing the big brother role.

Especially to Gabi, he was the only stable adult in her life. It's common knowledge that you call Reiner first for anything concerning her before her parents because he's more likely to answer and be available.

After meeting you, his life improved to the better as you moved in and became a trustworthy person in his life, someone he can depend on to take care of his little cousins on the days he works.

Not to mention that after you persuaded him to see a therapist, his mental health began improving too.

Gabi may or may have not committed arson at one point, she still wants to be a firefighter despite that and follow in Reiner's footsteps.

He hasn't told anyone beside you this, but he really fears for her, but doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Zeke is a doctor.

Previously he worked in a hospital but was able to open his own clinic afterwards, Colt was a great help to him at that time when he was getting on his own feet and even worked a lot of unpaid hours.

After that he insisted Colt works an official part time job there with a much higher pay, till he graduates at least. Plus the experience will greatly improve his resume.

Zeke is brilliant at his job, he'd be a perfect doctor wasn't it for the fact he's a huge hypocrite who doesn't follow the advice he gives his patients.

He does a side job in his free time that honestly no one of his friends know what it is, but they know it gained him a lot of connections and made new friends.

Something he always keeps buried inside was that he really never expected himself to become a doctor especially after what his dad did to his mother, and yet here he is. In some way it's like his own personal stepping stone to prove he's a better man than his father ever was.

Bonus:

Falco: middle schooler

He does volunteer work on the weekends, sometimes Udo joins him.

Doesn't want Gabi becoming a firefighter.

Likes all videogames , just all types.

Likes watching cartoons and medical shows with Colt who covers Falco eyes whenever an adult scene is on

His favourite food is chicken nuggets

Wants to try coffee

Is good at PE

Reads comic books

Likes yellow and blue

Gabi: middle schooler

Takes self defence classes and really wants to go to summer camp

Wants to be like Reiner, aspires to be as strong too.

Likes shooter videogames or really hard ones.

Likes watching Anime and cartoons

Her favourite food is Pizza

Wants to try energy drinks

Is also really good at PE and surprisingly good at puzzles.

Likes red and pink

Udo: middle schooler

Takes music classes at the weekend, wants to go to science camp

Kinda wants to be like Reiner or an astronaut.

Likes calming videogames

Likes watching anime and Minecraft let's play

His favourite food is mac and cheese

His favourite drink is strawberry milk

Is good at language classes and creative writing, he also just likes animals a lot.

Likes green and black

Zofia: middle schooler (could've been in a special program)

Takes music classes with Udo

Wants to be a lawyer

Likes co-op Videogames

Likes watching true crime and youtubers drama

Her favourite food is Donuts

She likes strawberry milk and ice tea

Is good at all classes

Likes white and purple

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leah-halliwell92 · 3 years

Text

It’s Over

For @band--psycho‘s bingo challenge. The prompt is enemies to lovers. Pairing is Tig x Reader

Note: (S/N) = sister’s name

“It was my sister,” you said coldly as you packed your bag.

Flashback

You’d just come back from a week long conference, Tig said he’d be on the road doing club stuff so timing couldn’t have been better. Everything went amazingly well, from your presentation to the doors that had opened for you and your career. Hell you could count the times someone told you to call em if you’re interested in a specific job. You’d done some light research and seen that most are out of state near the Maine area of the U.S. And while that seemed all well and good, you couldn’t just leave the family you’d made behind.

You were making Tigger’s favorite, ready to surprise him by taking it to the shop with promises of play time later. You loaded up the food into your car and made your way to T.Ms a happy grin on your face feeling giddy with all the pent up energy from not having seen your old man in a solid week. Yea there were calls but that shit ain’t the same.

You went through to the office waving at the boys as you passed by. You pressed a kiss to Chibs’ and Happy’s cheeks in greeting as you passed them by batting their hands away from the lunch bag.

“Nu uh,” you said with a grin, “This one is not for you. But let me know what you want me to bring for Sunday dinner and I’ll do my best. By the way have you seen Tiggy anywhere?”

The boys nodded happily but stilted at the question.

“He’s in the back,” Chibs said with a grin.

You noticed he didn’t look quite as teasing as he should have been but chalked it up to jet lag from the bike trip.

Happy didn’t look much better. You were sure if looks could kill someone would be dead with how cold and hard his eyes were.

“Come on little girl I’ll take you,” Happy said with a small smile.

“Lemme put this in tha lounge aye?” Chibs said reaching for the bag.

You furrowed your brows at them and the sudden odd behavior but gave Chibs the bag. You’d never needed any of the boys to take you to the back...

Happy didn’t say much on your way and you were going to say something when you heard moaning and heavy breathing.

You looked to Happy who nodded forward.

You walked up quietly hoping it was one of the prospects getting handsy with a crow eater. Your hopes were dashed at seeing Tig on a chair a woman bouncing on his lap. You covered your mouth to keep from gasping at who it was exactly that was on his lap. Your sister...

You made your way out to where Happy stood a sad look in his eyes.

You pulled out your phone and text widow, ‘Are there cameras in that room?’

You showed him the message and nodded as he confirmed it.

‘Get me a copy of that and make sure her face is visible,’ you typed in.

Happy looked at you startled, he’d never seen you so dead seat on something.

You turned around walked back into the room and took a picture of the deed tearful eyes cold and heart dead.

That done, you turned around and left. Out in the front, Happy and Chibs waited for you both concerned as they looked you over.

You took a seat in the lounge both boys at either side.

“Are ya gonna wait on ‘im?” Chibs asked quietly.

You shrug really not knowing what to do before sighing.

“Is it ok if I crash at either of you apartments?” You asked.

Happy nodded quietly, considering he never uses the place.

“I’ll help ya with your stuff,” Chibs said with a nod.

“No you won’t,” you say with conviction, “Despite everything going on between us now, he’s still your brother.”

“Yea...but if looks could kill he’d be dead,” Happy said with conviction.

You’d become family in the near 5 years you’d been with Tig. You meant a lot to them, even the prospects.

“I promise to keep in touch,” you say taking their hands in each of yours.

They nod and stand one to punch out the other to work the ladder not at all happy with how things ended.

As soon as Happy stepped out to punch out your sister walked out Tig not too far behind her.

“(Y/N)! You’re home!” Your sister said excitedly moving to hug you.

You kept your distance avoiding her hurt look and before she could say anything, you pulled out your phone showing her the picture you’d just taken.

(S/N) paled at the image.

“It’s not what you think,” she said voice shaky.

“No you’re right....him and I was not what I thought,” you said voice hard.

She shook her head pleadingly at that but before she could say anything...

“Baby!” Tig cried walking around (S/N) to envelope you in his arms.

You felt sick as he hugged you knowing where he’d been. It also didn’t help that (S/N) had been exactly were.

“You ok?” He asked when you pulled away, “Did something happen?”

‘Yea you dick you cheated on me with my sister,’ you thought but shook your head and left without a backward glance Happy hot on your heels.

You were heaving from how angry and ready to break you were. Happy saw this and gently held you in place.

“Breath,” he said lowly as you both heard Tig yelling at Chibs.

“I can’t,” you said as tears fell.

“Chibs is being a door stop,” Happy said looking over your shoulder, “But if you wanna leave...”

“We leave after I do this,” you said and walked to Tig’s bike.

You saw the men freeze as you looked at the bike a not so friendly look on your face.

Before Happy could do anything, you pulled out the knife Tig had given you for Christmas and slashed his tires making sure to leave the knife imbedded in the second tire.

You turn around to see a shocked and mouth agape Happy.

“Ok...Now I can go,” you said and walked away to your car.

You were stopped by your crying sister throwing her arms around you as she cried, “(Y/N) please!”

You pushed her off roughly not ready to deal with her yet and ran to your car.

You’d not sooner gotten in you car that you heard Chibs called out, “Move over lass! Ya ain’t in na condition to be drivin’.”

You were about to say no but was pushed to the passenger seat by the Scott.

“Lemme drive lass, Hap’s holdin’ on ta Tig while ya make yer getaway,” he said with a small laugh as he remembered you’d slashed the bike tires, “Granted he won’ be goin’ nowhere on flat tires.”

Back at home, Chibs found empty boxes to start putting your things in as you told him what belonged to whom while you packed away your clothing.

~End Flashback~

“What the hell man!” You heard Tig yell at Chibs who was loading up the last of two boxes that held your things.

“Babe–”

“It had to be my sister,” you said not turning around continuing to pack your bag.

“Babe please!” He said desperately, walking to where you were and taking things out.

You slapped his hand, hard, and repacked the clothing he’d taken out.

“And before you start, I saw you don’t give me the “it’s not what you think” crap,” you say as you packed up the last of your clothes.

“It didn’t mean anything!” He yelled.

“It meant enough for you to throw away 5 years together Alexander. Five fucking years I gave to you only to have it thrown in my face cuz my bitch ass of a sister made her cunt available to you while I was away for work,” you yelled turning to look at him, “And the worst thing is that I have no fucking clue how long this has been going on.”

Tig lowered his gaze and scuffed at the rug with his boot.

“How long Alexander?” You asked not really wanting to know the answer.

“A month...” he mumbled out.

Chibs walked in just as Tig answered the question and looked at his brother in disbelief.

“You sack o’ shite!” He yelled and punched Tig in the face, “You cheated on the best thing that has happened to ya with ‘er sister for a month! What was it Tig!? Was it the fresh pussy? That she was there? What the FUCK was it Tig!?”

“I don't know!” Tig yelled out as Chibs punched him while he was down, “I don’t know. She came onto me one night I’d mixed two drinks too many and next thing ya know I woke up with her on me.”

“Did it never make you stop and think to come clean!?” Chibs yelled.

“Dude she made me swear not to,” Tig said letting Chibs wale on him for the answer.

You on the other hand stood frozen as everything came to light.

“She made you swear because of (S/H/N),” you said quietly.

Chibs turned to look at you questions in his eyes.

“(S/N)’s husband is in the military and is diploid,” you said looking at Chibs, “She’s always been a horny bitch, sad she couldn’t just fuck a prospect and had to go for what wasn’t hers.”

Chibs approached you and nodded to the bags behind you on the bed.

You nod and he takes them to the car.

“At least now I'm free to fuck any son I want,” you say cruelly, “Because now nothing is sacred, and that is on you. Enjoy the crows Alex, maybe they’ll help you forget about me.”

“But baby I love you!” He yelled after you.

You scoffed and said, “If you did you’d have come to me as soon as it happened. Not gone back for more....fuck you Alexander Trager and hope that this doesn’t make it’s way over seas.”

#tig trager #soa #sons of anarchy image #band--psychos bingo challenge 2021

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devilsroost · 3 years

Note

Seems like Bendy and Kathlene have gone to wherever Dylan went. Have they met up again, or are they all in a separate limbo now?

I started a new job a couple of months ago. Covid times have been hard and I needed to take up something else to keep the wolves from the door. It's taken some time to settle in to the new job, and its been quite busy, even in the evening. So, what does this mean for this blog? Well, I'll not have to chase down so many commissions. I'll still do some here and there. but I'll be able to do art just for me. That means.... This! And Bacchus stuff, because I love him, for the last couple of years surviving off freelance comic work and background art, as well as commissions has been amazing, but when that started to slow because of covid weirdness I've had to go back to a job that provides more stability. I'll have art energy left to do personal projects. Before, I felt guilty if I wasn't drawing anything that would directly make me money, because I only had so much art energy left a day (and wrist health, ammirite?). This is not abandoned, even after all this time. It's just a little bit more settling in before I'm ready to come back and finish up my storyline. So, in answer to your snarky sounding passive aggressive comment about limbo: I do this blog for free. If you want me to draw something, pay me to do that. My commissions are open. If it isn't meant to be passive aggressive or snarky, it sure reads that way, but if not, here's some of my lore on this idea. Dylan being involved and a character isn't going to be erased even if he's disappeared into a forgotten limbo. Its a fate all toons dread, being forgotten and disappearing. Strangely it doesn't happen to background characters. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of love and imagination they got in the first place. They're simple characters, kind of npcs types that fill a role like 'coffee shop owner' and nothing else. This means they'll never really ascend above that role, but they're happy enough if it means one day they won't disappear. For main characters they have a greater sense of freedom and purpose, but, this comes with the risk of if their creator is gone and not enough people care about the character anymore they could fade into the great nothing. A lot of characters escape this fate by dimension hopping, escaping into other universes. Dylan and a lot of other characters have escaped to other universes, and some, have simply faded away...

#lore

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harryhandstan · 3 years

Text

wonderful and warm

gif credit

I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

thank you @peachybloomss and @tbslenthusiast for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!

word count: 2.6k

You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months.

Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.

But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.

Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.

Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.

“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”

Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.

“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.

By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you.

Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.

“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”

“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”

That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too.

You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.

“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”

The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.

“Say that again.”

“What? How happy I am..”

“No, the part before that.”

A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”

“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.

As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.

Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before.

But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.

“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.

“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”

“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”

“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”

He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”

He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.

“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”

Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.

You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.

"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.

"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."

"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."

"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"

"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."

"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.

"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."

"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.

A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.

"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."

“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”

He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.

You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”

“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”

“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.

“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”

“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.

“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.

“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.”

He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.

He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”

“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”

“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.

“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?”

“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”

“You really mean that, Harry?”

“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”

“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.”

“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”

He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple.

“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”

You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.

#dadathon #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #dad!harry

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

if your looking for a bth prompt what about used in sacrificial ritual where tk gets abducted on a run and carlos is the lead detective on this case of people getting murdered as sacrifices and they arrive in time to save tk but the ritual involved cutting limbs off and tk ends up losing a leg? perhaps w lots of fluff at the end? <3<3

anon, i cannot tell you how excited this prompt got me. i’d been toying with a very similar idea for weeks and this was the push i needed to actually write it - with certain modifications to fit your idea. (i promise it has a happy ending!)

i’m super proud of how this came out, and i hope you like it as much as i do!

@911lonestarangstweek day 7: Free choice!

Two months ago, TK vanished, snatched while out on his evening run. Carlos will do anything to get him back, even if that includes running himself into the ground.

ao3 | 4.9k | cw: kidnapping, depictions of violence, death and injury, forced amputation, career-ending injuries

It’s been two months.

Two whole months since TK left for his evening run with nothing but a shouted goodbye and a promise to be home soon.

Two months since Carlos hadn’t even turned around, because apparently the dishes were more important than his husband.

Two months since they found TK’s shattered phone and wallet, abandoned in the park next to a pool of blood.

Two months since Carlos’s world came crashing down around him.

He blames himself - how could he not? He’s been the lead detective on this case for months; he’s the one who’s so far failed to catch the guys who have mutilated and killed so many people, and now might do the same to his husband. More to the point, he’s the one who is supposed to protect TK, and it’s clear he’s resoundly failed in that department.

His captain had tried to take him off the case, once they’d found out that TK had become the latest victim. But Carlos had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to keep looking for his husband, even if he had to go above his head to do it.

They’d allowed him to keep the case, but Carlos knows he’s being watched. They think he’s having a breakdown and, the thing is, Carlos isn’t entirely sure they’re wrong.

He hasn’t slept in their bed since the night it happened, when he got woken up at two am to the sound of his ringtone blaring through the room.

“Reyes,” Mitchell had said, tone heavy. “I… Shit, Reyes. You gotta get here. There’s another one and I… I really didn’t want to be telling you this over the phone, but…”

She’d paused, and Carlos had sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly all too aware of the empty space next to him. And, in that moment, he’d known; even so, he’d still choked out a quiet, “No.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I truly am.”

He’s been living in a daze ever since, work and TK the only two things on his mind. He eats when he has to, barely sleeps, and never hangs out with their friends anymore, which he almost feels guilty for. They’re suffering too, Carlos knows this, but he can’t afford any distractions right now. If he were to be out somewhere and ends up missing the one chance he has to get TK back, he’d never forgive himself.

He’s just about to leave for another shift when there’s a loud, insistent knock at the door. Carlos rolls his eyes and goes to yank it open, about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone.

Only to come face-to-face with a very determined looking Grace Ryder.

“Grace,” he sighs, irritation dissipating. “Can this wait? I’ve got a -”

“I know you don’t have an official shift today, Carlos,” she interrupts, folding her arms. “Just like I know you’re working yourself to death, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. You’re coming out with me, no arguments.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Grace… I can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She clicks her tongue, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. "You should be thanking me; Judd was planning on bringing the entire crew down here to stage a full intervention. Now, I managed to talk him out of that one, convinced him the last thing you need right now is a house full of people, but I will not hesitate to go back on that. So you've got two options. Either you go back upstairs and get changed and I'll take you out for coffee, just the two of us, or I'm gonna unleash my husband and the full force of the 126 on you. Choice is yours, Reyes."

He sighs, wearily meeting her eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No, sir, you are not."

Carlos closes his eyes and hangs his head, knowing just how stubborn Grace Ryder can be. “Alright,” he says, though his every nerve is screaming at him for it, “you win. Give me a minute.”

She smiles encouragingly at him. “I’ll be here.”

The coffee-shop Grace takes him to is mercifully empty, both of people and memories. He wonders if she did this on purpose, but figures it’s more a stroke of pure luck, his first in months. It’s a nice place; he’ll have to remember it for when - if - they get TK back.

Grace quickly returns with their drinks, placing a sandwich in front of Carlos, too. “Don’t even argue,” she warns. “I won’t hear it.”

Carlos forces a smile. “Thanks, Grace.”

They sit in silence for a while, Carlos keeping his gaze turned to the table, picking listlessly at the sandwich. He can feel Grace’s eyes on him, feel the tension in the air between them, and part of him wishes she’d just come out with it already.

The other part wants to run for the hills, but he’s pretty sure Grace would catch him before he got too far.

Eventually, she sighs, setting her mug down and leaning across the table. “Carlos, we miss you,” she says softly. “I know it’s tough, but you’ve barely spoken to any of us since it happened. We’re worried.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice still unbearably gentle. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. There’s a difference. And that’s okay, up to a point, but you haven’t given yourself a break in two months and that is not okay. You know TK wouldn’t want you to be doing this.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

Grace sucks in a sharp breath. “Sweetheart, you know that is not what I meant -”

“Maybe you’re right,” he cuts in, ignoring the pain in his chest as he finally looks up at Grace. “It’s been two months; you know as well as I do what survival rates are for missing persons, even in normal circumstances.” His breathing trembles and he squeezes his eyes shut, images of the bodies they’ve found so far flashing through his mind. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks next. “You also know that the third month is usually when the bodies appear. We’re running out of time, Grace, and I don’t - I don’t know if I believe any more.”

“Carlos Strand-Reyes, I did not just hear you give up on that boy.”

He smiles humourlessly. “Not on him, Grace. On me.”

A long silence follows his words, though Carlos can feel the disappointment and worry rolling off Grace in waves. He should probably feel guilty for ruining a perfectly fine day, but he’s just so tired. He’ll do anything to have TK by his side again, but each day that passes is another day that TK slips further and further away from him, and it’s difficult to hold on to hope.

“I’m terrified,” Carlos admits quietly, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “Any day now they’re going to tell me they’ve found another body, and it’s going to be him, and I won’t be able to handle seeing him like that. You don’t know what they do to them, Grace, it’s - it’s -”

His breath hitches, and suddenly Grace is next to him, gathering him in her arms as he breaks down in sobs against her chest. She shushes him, running a gentle hand through his hair and, for a brief moment, she makes it easy to push away memories of sightless eyes and missing limbs and slit throats.

Grace holds him close, murmuring assurances Carlos doesn’t really hear, until he’s cried himself dry. Then, she pulls back, swiping her thumbs under his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own.

“You’ll get through this, Carlos,” she says, wobbly smile on her face. “No matter the outcome, we’ll all be here to help you get through this.”

Carlos nods, but, privately, he thinks she’s wrong. If TK dies, he’s not sure he’ll be able to find a way through that, no matter how many people are by his side. Because the only one he really, truly needs, won’t be there.

Carlos rubs his eyes, his vision blurring as he stares at crime scene photos, as he has been doing for the past however many hours. He must have gone through these thousands of times over the past eight months, and yet he’s still drawing a complete blank as to clues that could help them find the killers.

They’re always too careful, never leaving any DNA on scene, never caught on camera, never seen by witnesses. There’s not even much of a common denominator between the victims, aside from the fact that they’re all young - the oldest being 38 - and they were all alone when they were taken.

The only consistency in this entire thing is the bodies. Official cause of death is always a deep cut to the throat, accompanied by at least one limb being cut off when the victim was still alive, sometimes more. They never find the missing body parts, which bothers Carlos more than it probably should.

He rubs his eyes again, blinking hard to try and stay awake. He didn’t sleep well last night, which is nothing new, but the past two weeks have been exhausting. After Grace’s coffee outing, the 126 have been stopping by regularly, one or two at a time, to check up on him and make sure he’s doing okay. Carlos appreciates it, he does, but he doesn’t have the energy for it these days.

He’s so tired that he doesn’t notice Mitchell walking up to his desk before she’s standing right next to him, casting a shadow over his papers. Carlos looks up, and dread washes over him at the grim expression on her face, the tense set to her shoulders.

“We’ve got another one.”

Carlos makes a noise halfway between a choke and a sob. “A body?” he whispers, looking up at her fearfully.

“A disappearance,” Mitchell corrects, and Carlos doesn’t even feel guilty for the relief that floods him at that. “Industrial estate across town, one of the workers got nabbed when he went for a smoke. Same MO, no witnesses - it’s them.”

He nods, praying that Mitchell doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he gathers up his papers. If she does, she doesn’t say anything, though he catches her exasperated head shake when he turns back to face her.

“Let’s go.”

The crime scene is, as always, pristine, and Carlos can’t help but be frustrated, even if this is what he’s come to expect. The case had been wearing on him even before TK was taken, but now it feels like every dead end is a spit in his face, like the universe is taunting him directly.

He’s about to wrap up the scene when a young officer comes barreling towards him.

“Detective!” he yells, panting. “Detective Reyes!”

Carlos stops, raising an eyebrow as the officer skids to a halt in front of him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he gasps. Straightening, he clears his throat, pointing across the street. “There’s a hidden speed camera over there.”

Carlos blinks. Of all the ground-breaking news he imagined might warrant such dramatics, speed cameras weren’t one of them.

The officer heaves a long-suffering sigh, which, under any other circumstances, might be amusing. “We’re not sure yet, but, looking at the angle, we think it covers the place the guy got taken from,” he explains, and Carlos’s eyes widen. “If it does, we might be able to get some ID, maybe even a license plate. I know they’ve always been careful not to get caught on camera before, but they might not have known about this one. It’s a chance, Detective.”

Carlos breathes out shakily, mind reeling from the officer’s words. It’s a chance. An honest-to-god chance. “Have we pulled footage yet?”

“Doing that now.” The officer grins boyishly, and Carlos feels a small smile tugging at his own lips. He can’t let himself get too invested in this; there’s every chance that it’ll turn into yet another false lead. And yet.

Something like hope lights up Carlos’s chest, and he dares, just for a second, to believe in it.

It works.

It fucking works.

They don’t have an ID - the killers are at least smart enough to cover their faces - but they do have a plate, which they’ve managed to track to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Carlos taps the steering wheel of his cruiser anxiously; they’re parked in some trees just out of sight of the building, and he itches with the desire to jump out and go.

Every second they wait here is one more second in which TK is still with them, suffering, dying. He chews on his lip, then turns to Mitchell.

“We clear on the plan?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I am. Are you?”

“What -”

“I know what this means for you, Reyes,” she interrupts, not unkindly. “I know what might be waiting for you in there. Now, if it were up to me, you would be benched. It’s too personal, and you’re way too close to it. But, since it’s not, you’ve gotta promise me that your head is screwed on tight, you hear me? We’ve got a good plan, and it’ll work, but it’s only good so long as we are all following it. So, you tell me. Are we clear on the plan?”

Carlos swallows thickly, glancing back in the direction of the warehouse. Mitchell is right - he is too close to it, and he’d be thinking the same thing if the situation were in reverse. He just… He can’t fathom being anywhere but here right now.

He can do this; he knows he can.

He has to, for TK.

“Yes,” he says firmly, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got this.”

She nods. “Alright, then.” Her gaze shifts past him and she jerks her chin up. “There’s the signal. Let’s move out.”

It’s almost too easy, in the end. The suspects are woefully unprepared for an ambush, and Carlos doesn’t even need to fire his gun, which is always a good thing. They find the guy who was taken today in the same room as his kidnappers, a little worse for wear, but not too injured, all things considered.

Carlos wants to be happy about that, but he can’t. Not when TK is still nowhere in sight.

Mitchell takes over managing the scene and questioning the hostage. He’ll have to remember to buy something for her in thanks when this is all over; she’s been a rock over the past three months, often covering for Carlos with their supervisors when things became too much.

He glances around at the swarms of police and paramedics filling the warehouse, feeling oddly detached from it all. He’s itching to go looking for TK, but there’s only so far he can push things - though he’s being no help here, he has to maintain an appearance if he wants to not get fired.

That appearance being, the calm and collected detective, which is the furthest thing from what Carlos is right now.

His hands tap restlessly at his thighs, his senses dialled to eleven with anxiety, which only spikes when he sees an officer making her way towards him, a grim look on her face.

Please, god, no.

Carlos moves to meet her, but he’s not able to form the words for the question he needs to ask. Fortunately, she takes pity on him.

“We’ve found your husband, Detective,” she informs him.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down the fear. “Is he...?”

“Alive,” she says, and Carlos could cry with relief. “But he’s in bad shape. I’ve been told not to let you back there.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I appreciate the concern, but my husband has been missing for nearly three months,” he says tightly. “It would not be a wise idea to keep me from him any longer.”

She hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly, but eventually relents under Carlos’s hard stare. “Alright. Follow me.”

Carlos is led down several corridors until they stop outside a door, guarded by two other officers. The woman who brought him has a whispered argument with them, but Carlos pushes past her to glare at them, his patience at an end now that he knows that TK is mere feet away from him.

“I told her to bring me here,” he says. “That man in there is my husband; I’m going in there one way or another.”

The two officers exchange a glance, then wearily sigh and nod, stepping to the side. Carlos doesn’t bother to thank them before rushing inside, coming up short at the sight of three paramedics crouched around a body on the ground. He can’t really see much of TK yet, but he feels frozen in place, his mind suddenly rebelling at the thought of having to witness what three months of captivity have done to him.

He shakes his head and wills his feet forward, feeling like he’s walking through treacle as he rounds to TK’s side. Bile rises in his throat and he can’t stop the gasp that escapes him when he finally catches sight of his husband - it’s worse than anything Carlos had imagined, and he’d imagined a lot.

TK’s completely naked; the paramedics have lain a sheet over his lower half, but it does little to hide his emaciated state, his entire body outlined with sharp corners where his skin seems almost shrink-wrapped to his bones. Carlos can count every one of TK’s ribs, and the hollow of his cheeks is deeply pronounced. His torso is discoloured from bruising and he’s horribly still and pale - Carlos would think he were dead if not for the barely there rise and fall of his chest.

That’s not the worst of it, though. Carlos’s eyes travel down TK’s body, cataloguing his injuries, before sticking on his left leg.

Or, rather, the space where his left leg used to be.

Carlos barely refrains from throwing up, his stomach turning at the bloody mess in front of him. This isn’t… In the back of his mind - in his nightmares - he’d known that this was a possibility, but he’d never prepared himself for actually seeing it. He doesn’t know if he could have prepared himself, even if he’d tried.

“Detective.”

He’s broken from his horrified staring by one of the paramedics, now standing in front of him. Strange - Carlos hadn’t noticed him moving.

He sighs, obviously disapproving of Carlos’s presence here, but his expression holds nothing but sympathy. “Your husband is lucky we got here when we did,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises, and he is nowhere near out of the woods yet. To be perfectly honest with you, Detective, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing right now. He’s severely dehydrated and suffering from starvation - it looks like his kidnappers were giving him just barely enough food and water for him to survive. I’m also worried about infection in his leg, plus there might be injuries we can’t see yet. We’ve done everything we can for him here, but we have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. I’m assuming you’re going to ride with us?”

Carlos immediately nods. There’s no way he’s going to remain here, even if he knows he won’t be able to stay with TK when they get to the hospital. He trusts Mitchell to handle things, and he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, even more so than before. Not after everything he’s seen, everything he’s heard.

The paramedics get TK loaded on a gurney and Carlos follows them out, eyes locked on TK’s still form. He brushes a hand through TK’s limp hair, forcing back the tears burning in his eyes.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispers. “I’m here; you’re safe now.”

He hopes, somehow, that TK hears him.

“Oh my god.”

Carlos looks up from the bed at the sound of Owen’s voice. His father-in-law has a hand over his mouth, shock written all over his face at the sight of TK - what little that can be seen underneath all the bandages and machines he has hooked up to him. Carlos had done his best to prepare Owen for what he’d face when he arrived, but it had been an impossible task. He’d barely been able to get the words out, for one, but there was no explaining just how bad things are.

Nothing will ever be the same. Not that Carlos had ever expected that it would, but when (if, he reminds himself) TK wakes up, it will be to a completely different life than the one he had walked out of all those months ago.

The physical injuries alone would be bad enough - and, god, he’ll have to do so much at home to make it safe for TK - but he’s more worried about how this will have affected him in other ways. Carlos can’t imagine the level of trauma his husband has suffered, and he just prays that they can find a way to get through it.

Owen’s face crumples as he makes his way across the room, collapsing heavily in the chair on the other side of the bed. He reaches out as though to touch TK, but snatches his hands back just as quickly, expression stricken. “Oh my god,” he repeats.

Carlos lets him be for a few moments, allowing Owen to process what he’s seeing at his own pace. He turns away so that he can have some semblance of privacy, though he can’t ignore the soft sobs he hears. It’s almost as though they’re mourning TK, even though they now have proof he’s alive, which is more than can be said for the last three months.

Eventually, Owen sniffs, and turns to address Carlos. “Have they… What did the doctors say?”

“Nothing concrete,” Carlos answers, focusing his gaze back on TK. “If he makes it through the next few days, then they think he’ll have a chance, but that’s a big if, Owen. There was so much damage. His organs weren’t functioning properly, he has a head wound from when he was first taken that never really healed right, and his leg… It had become infected where his kidnappers cut it; they had to take some more in surgery to stop it from spreading any further.”

He tears his eyes from TK to meet Owen’s gaze, almost wishing he hadn’t when he sees his own pain and grief reflected back at him. “It’s bad, Owen,” he chokes out. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. Not that he really needs to say them; they’re both thinking the same thing.

“The doctors probably told you, but they’re restricting visitors to two until he’s more stable,” Carlos continues, eyes dropping back to the bed. “I know the team will want to see him, but do you think you can hold them off for a while? Just for a couple of days, until we know more. I don’t want to keep them from him, but I just…” He trails off, guilt welling up in him even though he knows this is what’s best. “I know it’s a selfish thing to ask, but I think it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“I understand,” Owen says gently. “I’ll let them know. And… I’ll do my best to prepare them, for when they do come and visit.”

Carlos nods his thanks and the two lapse into silence, broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that TK’s still with them, but each noise sends another bolt of pain through Carlos’s heart.

He squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Owen,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Owen gasps. “What for?”

“I was supposed to protect him! This was my case, I’m the reason he got taken, the reason he might not make it. He could still die, and it’s all my fault!”

Carlos drops his head into his hands, chest heaving from the force of his sobbing. Distantly, he hears the scrape of a chair on linoleum, then Owen’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him into an embrace. Carlos falls into him, not caring about the almost childlike way he clings to his father-in-law.

“You found him, Carlos,” Owen whispers, rubbing circles on Carlos’s back. “You found him. Any chance he has at making it through is because of you. That’s what matters now; it’s the only thing that matters.”

It’s several more weeks before Carlos’s prayers are finally answered.

TK was declared stable some time ago, the doctors saying that, barring any unexpected complications, they should expect him to wake up. They hadn’t said anything about what the damage might be once he did wake, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to ask; at this point, he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, else he knows he’ll fall apart.

He’s practically lived at the hospital since they brought TK in. He’s pretty sure Owen, his parents, and the 126 came up with a rota for making sure he wasn’t starving himself, because it was always someone different who attempted to pull him away from TK’s room for food or sleep in an actual bed. Carlos resisted as much as he thought he could get away with, but he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to keep his strength up if he’s going to be of any use once TK wakes up.

It happens early one morning, when the sun is just beginning to filter through the blinds. Carlos is already awake, keeping a vigilant watch over his husband, though he doesn’t quite believe it when TK’s eyelid twitches.

He holds his breath, waiting, and, just when he’s given it up as a trick of exhaustion, it happens again, both of his eyes cracking open this time.

“TK?” he breathes, half-rising from his chair. He reaches out and grabs TK’s hand, which moves - actually moves - in his, and tears spring to his eyes.

It takes a few more minutes before something like awareness creeps into TK’s face, his eyes fully opening for the first time in weeks. Carlos just sobs at the sight, drawing TK’s attention to him, at which point his expression turns to shock and disbelief.

TK’s mouth moves, but he can’t force out any words, causing panic to flash over his face and his breathing picks up. Carlos leans forward, squeezing his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, reassuring him. “You’re okay, I promise, everything’s going to be okay. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, and you’re safe. God, TK, I swear I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it.”

TK shakes his head, still not understanding, so Carlos reaches to press the call button. He forces a smile for TK’s sake, though his mind is crowded with worries about what their next steps will be. It’s going to be a long time before they can even think about going home, he knows this, but everything is so uncertain now.

Carlos wants to believe that there can be some sort of normality in their future, but, right now, it seems like a distant dream.

Time passes.

He brings TK home.

It’s hard, so much harder than he thought, but they have a whole team of people willing to help out as much as they can. Paul and Grace often bring food, usually stopping to talk for a while afterwards. The others - most often Marjan and Judd - sometimes come by and take TK out in his wheelchair for a while, giving Carlos time and space to relax or tidy. Letting TK out of his sight was difficult at first, and he still gets anxious watching him disappear out the door, but he knows that the 126 would do anything to keep him safe.

He just has to trust them, which he does, implicitly so.

Owen’s also a frequent visitor to their house, staying overnight a time or two in the beginning. Carlos is grateful for it; he doesn’t know how he would have coped if not for Owen’s steady presence while they were still figuring out their new reality.

TK struggles a lot, even with simple things these days. The head wound caused brain damage, leading to migraines and he has problems with speech and carrying out tasks. It breaks Carlos’s heart to see him, but he forces himself to keep up a front, only letting the emotion out when he’s alone - or, rarely, with one of the 126.

He suspects TK knows anyway, but they don’t talk about it.

It’s a long few months of recovery, of pain and exhaustion and frustration. But it’s all worth it, because it means that TK is alive. It means that Carlos has him back, and they can work on getting better together.

It means that, one golden morning, Carlos wakes up to see TK’s beautiful green eyes already open, watching him intently. He reaches out to caress TK’s cheek, then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a long moment.

And, when he pulls back, TK smiles.

And it feels like everything is going to be okay.

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pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

Our brother, our keeper. also found here.

Tommy plays the protector role sometimes, too. Modern au/SBI is a family.

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

Wilbur

He supposes he’s felt worse than this before. Though in this moment, he feels utterly lousy. With an aching migraine and no medicine to counter it, he’s stuck on the couch, with the lights off. He can’t do much more than remain slumped against it, pressing his fingers to his forehead as he attempts to give himself a massage. It’s not helping much.

He cracks an eye open and rolls his head to the side when he hears footsteps on the floor outside the room. Eye sliding closed again, he turns his head away, feeling a nausea build up far too rapidly for him to be comfortable.

“I have a headache, Tommy. Please don’t bother me right now.”

“Okay.” Tommy’s voice is quieter than normal, and Wilbur is grateful when there’s no more conversation after that. He doesn’t want to open his eyes again to check for Tommy’s continued presence, so he hopes the child has gone somewhere else, preferably his own room.

Wilbur lets himself sink into a pain filled stupor. He doesn’t know if he’s fallen asleep or if he’s just numb to everything, but when he comes back to reality, his head aches just as much as before. Except, this time, he’s not alone. He can feel Tommy’s hands on his face, clearly trying to feel for a fever. Weakly, he swats Tommy’s hands away, feeling his stomach churn.

“Tommy, what did I say?” He snaps through clenched teeth. “I’m-”

“Sorry, Dad asked me to check on you. I went to the shop and bought you some pain relief, I thought you might want it.”

That catches Wilbur’s attention. He would have expected Phil or Techno to go, not Tommy. He stops trying to fight the child as he forces his eyes open, blurred vision barely focused on his youngest brother. Tommy’s blue eyes are the only things he can clearly see, and they’re filled with a soft concern that Tommy doesn’t show very much. Wilbur lets out a soft sigh as he decides to let Tommy work. It’s not like Tommy’s actually doing anything to hurt him. In fact, Tommy’s actually helping.

Wilbur can’t help but lean into the gentle touches that Tommy is offering. From gently fingers curling in his hair, to the thermometer entering his mouth, followed by a couple of pills being handed over to him with a glass of cool water. Wilbur obeys every silent action without complaint. It’s relaxing, and it’s all working to ease the nausea and head-splitting agony that had threatened to overwhelm him just moments before.

He barely notices when Tommy throws a blanket over him, before tucking a pillow under his head. He hums quietly as he allows himself to finally relax, drifting off to sleep.

“Feel better, Wilby,” Tommy whispers gently. “Sleep well.”

He does.

**********

Techno

He hates having a flat tire. He hates having a flat tire only a block away from home. Techno smacks the hood of his car out of frustration, too riled up to remember how to actually change the tire. He’s fighting back an anxiety attack, knowing this can all easily be dealt with, he just needs to call Phil.

It takes Techno far too long to work up the courage; this is humiliating. He’s not that far from home, he could easily walk. He could easily change the tire himself, but then he’d have to admit that he must’ve run over something that flattened everything. It’s too big of a deal in his head, and it shouldn’t be.

He dials Phil’s number.

It’s not Phil who answers.

“Tommy, where’s Phil?”

“He’s streaming right now. How can I help?”

“Nevermind, I’ll call back later.” He hovers his finger over the ‘end call’ button.

“Techno wait.” Tommy’s voice is low, soothing. Techno doesn’t hear this from Tommy very much, but he’s latching onto it anyway. “Techno, are you in trouble? Is it something I can help with?”

He opens his mouth to say no. His pride wants him to say no. Even more embarrassing than being in this situation in the first place is the thought of his sixteen year old brother riding his bike out to help him. He swallows his pride and nods, before remembering Tommy can’t see him. “Can you meet me? I’m a block away, don’t tell Phil.”

Tommy’s there within two minutes. The way he’s panting indicates he must’ve jogged the whole way, but Techno doesn’t comment. “Tommy, I’m having a panic attack and my tire-” He waves helplessly at his car, while Tommy’s gaze follows where he’s gesturing to.

“Oh, I get it. Don’t worry.” Tommy offers one of his bright smiles before moving closer to the car. Techno stands there, watching as his tall, lanky brother, maneuvers around the car with ease. Using the tools provided in the trunk to change the tire. He’s never seen Tommy work like this before. He had no idea Tommy could even change a tire! But it’s not long before Tommy’s done, and he’s putting the tools away.

“I didn’t...Tommy you-” Techno has no idea how to express his gratitude. This had been way less embarrassing than he expected.

“It’s okay Big Man,” Tommy says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. Stream with me later, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Techno nods, breathing out slowly. “Hop in, I’ll take you home.” He moves back behind the wheel and beams at his youngest brother. Who’d have thought Tommy would help him?

He’s glad it was Tommy.

**********

Philza

There are too many bills to sort through. Phil’s glad for the money he makes on twitch, he has plenty to cushion himself, but sometimes paying all the bills takes a large dent in his savings, and having to build it all back up for the next month takes a toll.

Most of the bills he has, he can pay online. Sometimes, he gets them in paper form, mostly as receipts instead of collection notices. Phil’s tempted to throw the pile of mail in the garbage and spend his money on the most expensive restaurant instead.

He’s already stressed as is. Not for any particular reason, but having to put on a show for several hours a few times a week does take its toll. He misses the time when he could just be himself, and not have to manage not only his stream chat but several other streamers’ chats as well. Being a mod for so many people isn’t easy work, and yet people keep asking for him.

He throws the mail on the counter as he sorts through it, putting some envelopes in the ‘already paid’ pile, and some in the ‘need to pay’ pile. That leaves one envelope that has him blinking. With a confused sensation swirling in his gut, Phil opens the envelope and pulls out the paper inside.

It’s the energy bill, and one that Phil had been most worried about paying. The energy had spiked the past couple of months, due to all four of them being streamers and needing to stream at the same time. It’d sucked up a lot of power, resulting in the bills being a higher price than normal.

This month, apparently, the bill’s already been paid.

Phil doesn’t remember paying it.

He turns to head up to Wilbur’s room, ready to question him about the bill. If it isn’t Wilbur, he’ll question Techno next.

“Hey Dad!”

Tommy pokes his head out of his room, still wearing his headphones. “I should let you know, the other two went out for ice cream. We’re going to stream in a bit, do you want-”

“Do you know anything about this, Tommy?” Phil asks. “Did one of them pay this?”

“Oh, that was me.”

“Tommy!”

“Sorry. I just wanted to help out. I remember how upset you were last month and I wanted to surprise you.”

“You’re sixteen, child. You shouldn’t be paying my bills.” Phil relaxes though, wondering if he should pay Tommy back. The teenager should not have to worry about finances yet, it’s not right.

“Don’t worry about it Dad, it was a one time thing to help out. Use the spare cash to buy yourself something fun, yeah?”

“Thanks, Tommy.” Phil returns the bright smile, even as Tommy shuts himself away in his room again. A few moments later, he can hear loud, boisterous laughter as Tommy gets on discord with his friends.

He heads back downstairs to add this to the ‘already paid’ pile. He’ll definitely have to treat his youngest son later.

#mcyt #sbi family #sleepybois inc #fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #tommyinnit #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza #fluff #family dynamics #protective!tommyinnit #slice of life #long post #miishae writes

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter eleven

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3560

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Honestly, this chapter reads a little weird to me but my friend who helps me edit said it was fine. IDK going from the 40s to 2012 is weird when trying to write.

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Masterlist

Seven months had gone by since Steve and I had been unfrozen. This new world I suddenly woke up in was exhausting. Everything had changed from the simplest thing like manners to complicated things like technology.

Days after waking up, we had been sent to a place called “The Retreat” so we could catch up on the seventy years we had missed out on. There was so much that we took to writing everything down in small notebooks, so we could remember.

I caught onto using the new technology quicker than Steve since I had worked with Howard Stark for several years. Being able to adapt to strange and new tech on the fly was a requirement when working with him.

After those few weeks there, we were both moved into two separate government apartments located in New York. I wish I could say that it got easier with time, but it didn’t. Instead of going to hang out with Steve or actually trying to make acquaintances with anyone, I just stayed in my room, locked away from everything. Coping with being in the future was the easy part, learning to live without everyone I ever knew was hard.

I hadn't known peaceful sleep in a long time. Every time I closed my eyes I am met with nightmares. The softness of the mattress had made it feel like I would fall through at any moment, back into the ice. To try and combat this I pushed my bed into the far corner of the room and made a cot directly under the frame. It felt safer to lay on the hard floor in the dark. The nightmares still came through, sometimes they were battles, sometimes they were of the plane crashing, but most of the time they were about losing Bucky. Every time I woke up in a cold sweat and never went back to bed. I just stared unblinking at the metal that made the bed frame.

One night after a particularly taxing dream I decided to take a walk. It was three in the morning, so I wouldn't have to deal with a lot of people. I changed out of my pajamas into some of the clothes I had been provided. The clothes of the future were tighter than in the forties. It had taken me a while to get used to the feeling of fabric clinging to my legs and upper body. The outside world was quiet except for the occasional car passing by. I kept my eyes to the ground, not really caring where I ended up. I only looked up when I was almost run over by another late-night walker. Peering from left to right, my eyes fixed on an old faded sign hanging above me. The letters were just barely readable and said in large letters ‘Boxing gym’. With another survey of the area, I realized where I was. This was the gym that Bucky used to take Steve when teaching him self-defense. I had tagged along a couple of times before I had joined the SSR, I was surprised it was still here. I smiled weakly and turned to the door. The light inside was on, it couldn’t hurt to see if they were open. The door creaked open and I slipped in quietly. The sound of someone working out came down the long brick hallway. Hesitantly I made my way to the open doors that led to the sparring room.

Stopping just past the threshold, to my surprise, I spotted Steve, who was busy punching the life out of a punching bag. I walked through the small office and around the boxing rings before I stopped again and leaned against one of the columns a few feet away from where Steve stood. I watched him for a while before he landed a hard punch on the bag and it flew off into the distance. I started clapping slowly and he turned around in shock.

“Good job, you broke the bag, but you do know you’re gonna have to pay for that right?”

“Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a while. I came by your apartment but you didn’t answer.”

“I know Stevie, I just haven't felt up to company since we got back to New York. I hope you can forgive me.” He looked at me with sad eyes and took three long steps in my direction. His arms came out to engulf me in a hug.

“It’s okay, I understand. Promise you’ll tell me if something's wrong, okay?” I nodded into his chest and he squeezed me tighter.

“I couldn't sleep, I guess you couldn't either.”

“No, too many thoughts.” He let go of me and went to get two more punching bags. He hung them up a few feet away from one another before turning to me and asking if I wanted to join. Pretty soon we were both laughing together if it felt almost like we were back home before everything happened. That was until the same dark-skinned man from that day seven months ago showed up. I later learned he was Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.

“I’m glad to find you both here.” He stated.

“Are you here with a mission, Sir?” Steve asked.

“I am.”

“Is this to try and get us back out in the world?” I asked.

“No, I'm trying to save it.” he thrust out an open manila folder. I grabbed it slowly and brought it to where Steve and I could both look at it. The blue cube that had evaporated Johann Schmidt was in the photograph pinned to the first page. In large bold letters beside the pictures spelled out TESSERACT. We slowly walked to a nearby bench and sat down.

“That's HYDRA’s secret weapon. I thought it fell into the ocean that day,” I whispered.

“Howard fished it out of the water when they went looking for you both. He thought what we think, that this cube could be an unlimited sustainable energy source.” Fury informed us.

“Who took it from you?” Steve questioned.

“He’s called Loki, he’s not from around here. We have a lot we're gonna need to catch you both up on if you agree to help. This world has gotten stranger than you already know.”

“I doubt anything could surprise us anymore, right Stevie?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Ten bucks says you’re both wrong.” Fury bet. We both got up from our seats and handed the file back. Steve went and grabbed another bag from the floor and I just headed straight for the door.

“There are debriefing packets at your apartments, read through them and get back to me by tomorrow afternoon. And before you leave, is there anything we should know about the tesseract?”

“You should have left it in the ocean.” Steve and I said at once before walking out of the gym. Once we were outside on the sidewalk we hugged and said our goodbyes for the moment and then went our separate ways.

The walk home felt longer than the walk to the gym, but this gave me time to think about what I wanted to do. Whether I wanted to go on this mission, or if I just wanted to lay low and live my life. By the time I walked through my front door I had almost made my decision, but I was waiting to read the file before I decided for good. With a quick look through the minimal information provided I sighed and threw the papers down onto my kitchen counter. Shaking my head I murmured to myself.

“No, I am not doing this. This cube is not worth it.” Rubbing my eyes I went back to my room and crawled under the bed, not caring that I was still in jeans and a t-shirt. I was not going to walk blindly into anything dealing with that cube again. I lost my fiance and everyone I have ever known because of that stupid blue thing, I'm not going to go anywhere near it again. I laid there quietly for a while before I eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

The next morning I woke up with a start, almost hitting my head on the bed above me. Furious honking made its way from the street into my room. One thing I definitely missed from the past was how quiet it once was at seven a.m.

Along with the decision to not join the mission, I had also made up my mind about leaving New York. This had been a long decision in the making and the talk with Fury last night was enough to make the choice for me. I couldn't live in this city anymore. The places I used to hang out at were still here, but they had been renovated so many times that they were unrecognizable. Everywhere I turned It was like I was walking through a strange alternate reality. I saw glimpses of the past, like ghosts around every corner, it was worse when it was a place Bucky and I frequented.

When I had gotten back from the Retreat I made the mistake of going to mine and Steve’s old apartment. It had been torn down to construct a bookstore, along with several other retail shops. I broke down in the street when I saw it, waves upon waves of emotions crashed into me. All the memories I had there with Steve, mom, and Bucky had no place to live now other than in my mind. The next mistake I made was to go down the next few blocks to Bucky’s apartment he shared with his mom and sister, Rebecca. It was no longer there either, a bakery stood in its place. I turned and left before the onslaught of tears came. After that day I thought it would be best to go somewhere else, somewhere I had no memories.

I crawled out from under the bed and slowly moved to the bathroom to start getting ready for the long day to come. Once I had showered and gotten dressed I sat myself down on the living room sofa, looking wearily at the telephone on the end table. Hesitantly I picked up the receiver and dialed the number that had been in the tesseract briefing file. It rang twice before Nick Fury answered.

“Mr. Fury, I’m calling to tell you that I won’t be joining your team for whatever mission you have going on. I just want to lay low and rebuild my life and live it quietly without interruption.” I let out a long breath.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Was really hoping to have you fight with us. If you change your mind, you know where to contact me. Goodbye Agent Rogers.” He hung up quickly after that, not giving me a chance to tell him goodbye as well. The next call was going to be the hard one, I had to tell Steve my plans. I dialed his number slowly as I raised the receiver to my ear. It didn’t even have time to get through the first ring before Steve picked up.

“Hello?” He asked on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s up kid. Have you called Fury about joining the mission? I called about an hour ago letting them know I’d help.” He sounded a little enthusiastic.

“That’s actually what I’m calling about. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this but I’m not going to help with the mission.”

“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “Why not? I thought you’d want to help get rid of that thing once and for all.”

“It’s not that, I want nothing more than for the tesseract to be gone for good. I just don’t think I can be a part of it, I don’t want this thing to take over my life if we can’t get rid of it. This brings me to another important thing I need to tell you. I can’t stay here in New York, so I’m moving to DC.” He was quiet for a while after I had said that, the only thing I could hear coming from his side was his breath. I grew more anxious by the minute waiting for him to say something.

“What do you mean you’re moving? Why can’t you stay here with me?”

“Don’t be selfish.” I snapped.

“I’m not being selfish, you are.” he raised his voice. I huffed through my nose, getting annoyed.

“I can’t stay here any longer. I have no idea what it is like for you, but for me, being in this city is torture. I see ghosts from the past every time I leave my house. I can’t go anywhere without seeing him, and every time I see him, I break down. I never got to say goodbye and that day plays over and over in my head. Steve, I’m being tormented with nightmares to the point where I have barely gotten five hours of sleep in the past week. I need to get out of here whether you like it or not.” Tears had started to stream down my face as I yelled into the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you, I still can help you if you let me. If you leave I can’t keep you safe, I can’t protect you like I’m supposed to.” He was using his soft “grown-up” voice he always used with me when I was younger to try and calm me down but the tears kept streaming down my cheeks at a rapid pace.

“I can protect myself, we did take the same serum,” I choked out. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to bother you with my problems, I can deal with them myself. Plus you have your own things to deal with, you don’t need to help me with mine.” My head was starting to hurt now and my cheeks and neck itched with quickly drying tears.

“Fine. The only way I will be okay with you leaving is if you promise to call me at least twice a week and you let me help you move.” I gave a strained laugh and nodded, even if he couldn't see it.

“Okay, it’s a deal. I actually already have an apartment lined up, so you can come over and help me pack everything up whenever you want to. I’m going to try and be out of New York by the end of next week.”

“I’ll be right over.” I laughed as I told him that I’d be waiting. I laid the receiver back down in its spot and stood up to go to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking. I was glad my relationship with Steve could handle an argument, understand one another, then go right back to normal, I don’t think we would be this close if it couldn't. I blinked back a few stubborn tears and bent down to grab a rag from the sink cabinet, I dampened it in warm water then wiped the dried tears from my face. The warm water felt wonderful on my skin.

Over the next week and a half, Steve and I boxed up what few belongings I had and packed them and the furniture into a moving truck. I didn’t own a car so the moving truck would be my transportation to DC. One of the many things SHIELD had us do was take a modern driving test, which wasn’t hard, just a few more signs to remember and more gadgets in the car than there used to be, I ended up passing with flying colors.

By Friday morning we had everything ready to go. Steve would follow me on his motorcycle and I would drive the truck the whole three and a half hours to my new apartment.

We stopped several times on the way down, mainly so Steve didn’t have to sit on the bike for the whole three hours straight. We also stopped for lunch. All in all the trip took us about five hours, with traffic added. We made it to my new home just after two and we started moving my belongings in immediately.

Admittedly the apartment was way too big for just me but I liked the extra space, it was different from the tiny two-bedroom apartment I had grown up in. The first thing I made sure to unpack and put up was the bed. I still hadn't told Steve I wasn’t actually sleeping in the bed, but he didn’t need to know that. After that clothes were sorted through and put in their respective places. With our enhanced strength and stamina, we had the whole place relatively furnished in just under two hours. We stopped for dinner when everything had been brought up from the moving truck.

The day went by fast with us talking and laughing like we used to, it was a good change of pace from my usual aimlessly roaming around my apartment alone. But, all good things have to come to an end and Steve had to leave. He pulled me into a tight hug, almost crushing me, and wouldn’t let go until I pinky promised to call him several times a week. I just laughed and promised him I would. I was sad watching him walk down the hallway to the stairs.

I turned back into my apartment and closed the door, locking it behind me. I stared at the box littering the floor and decided to get to work unpacking the rest of what we hadn’t gotten earlier.

Most of my belongings I found in thrift stores and antique shops around the city. It may have been the twenty-first century now, but that wasn’t stopping me from making my home a comfortable, familiar space. If you walked in from the outside world, you would have thought you had been transported to the past with how much authentic 1940s and before things I had littered about. Some things had been saved from the apartment we lived in in the forties. I learned a few weeks before we came back from the retreat that Peggy had been the one to put everything in storage after they had failed to find Steve and me in the ice. I had gone through all of it and took out what I wanted to take with me and Steve had done the same. I was thankful Peggy had done what she did, otherwise, everything would have been lost to time.

That night as I tried to sleep, I realized it was a little easier to relax. DC was a whole lot quieter than New York, there was no honking or yelling every two seconds to keep me awake. I was left alone in almost complete silence, which for others may be worse than being bombarded with noise, but I didn’t mind. I fell asleep almost an hour after laying down for the night and had a restless sleep. I woke up many times in the night covered in sweat, but I couldn't remember the dreams, anything I could remember dissipated as soon as I opened my eyes.

I woke up again very early the next morning, the clock on my wall said it was four forty-five. It was still dark out, but I could hear birds starting to chirp. I crawled out from under the bed frame and went to put on some exercise clothes. Running always helped to clear my mind after not being able to get any sort of rest. The run itself didn’t take long, even though it was seven miles, any normal person would be exhausted but I had barely broken a sweat. I did get to see some nice places, taking a route around the zoo, to the National Cathedral, and then back around to the Dupont Circle neighborhood, where my apartment was. The sun was just starting to come up as I made my way back into my building.

Although I had just moved in the day before, I was ready to start finding some sort of job. The money SHIELD was giving me to help assimilate back into the world comfortably was appreciated, but I wanted to make my own way in life without their help. Finding a job was going to be harder than it used to be, but I did have expertise in several areas. Upon being unfrozen, along with the driving tests, SHIELD created a new resume for me. I had degrees in history pertaining to the 1940s, World War II, and several of the New Deal programs, with a specialty in the SSR. I was also given a Veteran ID, although I don’t really know how that one works because I definitely was not a part of the apparent ongoing fighting in Afghanistan. I still looked twenty-four, I doubt anyone would believe it.

Anyway, I had interviews lined up for today at the Smithsonian, and hopefully, the resume that SHIELD created and my knowledge would be enough to land a job. I had already figured that I would be volunteering at the local VFW. I knew I could find people there to relate to and hopefully be able to make some friends.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

Text

Putting It Back Together Chapter 1

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions

So I decided to take a crack at Adam. The plan is to have this be around 10 chapters, but that is just a guess at the moment. It starts a little angsty, but will lighten up as it goes along. Hope you enjoy!

If you would like on or off the tag list, please let me know!

It was more of a mist than a drizzle adding chill to the late autumn air as he walk through the dark streets. Even this time of night there were noises of fellow wanders, zombies he was sure, but he managed to keep from the streets where they roamed. The last thing he needed was to be confronted with the mindlessness of what passed for humanity in these times.

That was the trade off of life in the city. The need to constantly dodge others was barely offset by the convenience of shops open late and services not bound by the constraints of daylight. Not that Adam needed many services of others. He was in most ways self sufficient. He had worked for centuries to make it so. With but two exceptions - sustenance and music - he had only ever needed one soul besides his own.

She was gone now, his Eve. Eleven years had passed since she had taken a glass of tainted blood in Tangier. It seemed like yesterday, it seemed like a lifetime. He wished it were his lifetime. Only a promise dragged out of him at her death bead had kept him from following her into oblivion. She had used every trick she possessed, every weakness she knew in him, to get him to agree to her demand, and now he was trapped, bound by a promise to another century on this blighted earth. Eighty-nine more revolutions until he could use the wooden bullet that lay heavy in breast pocket and end his grief.

He had wandered after she left him. Angry and bitter, he had left Africa and roved across the globe. Everywhere he went, though, there were memories. He saw her everywhere in Europe. The Middle East was littered with memories. Even South America echoed a life spent together.

Finally he had come back to America. She had not spent as much time in the States. It was easier here. He had considered Seattle, New Orleans, Memphis, the various musical centers of the country, but in the end New York had drawn him in. Strange, he had never spent much time here. Too many zombies too close together. And yet, he could not deny it had definite advantages, and for the most part no one paid any attention to what anyone else did.

He arrived at last at the brownstone in the East Village where he lived his weary life. He was excited, or at least as excited as he was capable of these days, to test out the Rickenbacker bass guitar that he had stumbled upon in a pawn shop. The owner had no idea how rare the model was, and had not known how to react to the large roll of cash that Adam had thrust at him for the instrument.

Quickly shucking his black leather jacket, Adam took out he new prize and lovingly stroked the light grained wood. He could feel the decades of music that it had produced still reverberating through the body. He flicked a series of toggles and buttons to power up his sound system and plugged the Rickenbacker in. Closing his eyes he placed his fingers firmly on the frets and plucked out a rapid series of low notes, loving the reverberation and full tones it produced. Just as he began to segue into an actual song, however, a loud bang sounded and the lights, sound, and all other electronic power went dead.

"Shit!" he spit out, mood collapsing back in on itself as quickly as it had risen.

Setting the bass gently back in its case despite his irritation, Adam fumbled through his belongings until he located his tool box. After attaching his head torch and grabbing a second flash light just in case, he made his way down the hall to the ladder that lead up through a hatch onto the roof where a small shed held the electric box for his home.

"Just what I fucking need," he muttered, pulling himself onto the tarred surface.

He was just picking his tools back up when a loud creaking noise drew his attention. Just a few feet away, a second hatch door had opened, and a shape was pulling itself up and onto the roof with some difficulty, judging by the swearing. Adam watched in dismay as the shape unfolded itself to reveal a woman silhouetted against the half moon. She had a large, over bright flashlight in her hands that waved back and forth as she made her way to the shed that was his own destination.

"Who are you?" he asked, intercepting her before she could reach the structure.

"Ohmyfuckinggod!" she cried out, jumping almost a foot as he appeared in front of her.

Adam crossed his arms and waited silently for her to calm down, mouth drawn down into a habitual scowl.

"You scared me half to death!" she told him needlessly when she had regained some of her composure.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, you know, just signaling Batman that evil is afoot," she said dryly, waving her oversized lamp back and forth.

Adam continued to stare at her, unamused, until she sighed and gave him a real answer.

"I'm checking out the fuse box. Are you from 89? You must be, I guess. So your lights are out too? It doesn't look like it's the whole block, just our two buildings. Hopefully flipping the switch will bring them back on."

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself," he told her when she finally stopped talking. "I have things well in hand. The power should be on shortly."

"Great," she said with a forced smile.

She didn't move. Why was she still standing there? Adam glowered at her, hoping to scare her off, but the brainless girl just stood there.

"Did you need something else?" he asked reluctantly.

"No, just the one thing," she replied, blinking at him. "Shall we get to it?"

"This will hardly take two," he ground out. "And I know how the system works."

He should! He had redone the entire wiring himself. The convoluted system of shorting wires and faulty circuits had been a travesty when he moved in. It had taken him almost a month to tear it out and build a more streamlined, efficient energy grid. The only problem now was when he forgot himself and pulled too much power for the subpar wiring in the wall to take. He had considered redoing that as well, but it would take time and draw attention, which he was keen on avoiding.

"Wonderful, then you can show me," she chirped at him. "After all, you may not be here the next time it goes off, and then I won't know how it works."

She was not going to let this go, he could tell from the deceptively stubborn set of her shoulders. With a roll of his eyes that he doubted her human eyes could catch in the darkness, he turned on his heel and walked over to the shed. Let her look at it, he decided. It was not like she would understand what he had done anyway.

"Woah," the nattering woman whistled as he opened the door. "That is not what I was expecting at all! It looks like some form of microhydraulics, but there's no way you could have a water source up here. What are you using?"

Adam turned and stared at her, really looking at her for the first time. She was short, even for a woman, not even coming up to his chin. Her hair was haphazardly tied into a bunch on the top of her head and looked like it would be bigger than she was if she were to let it down. The eyes she turned up towards him were inquisitive and sharp. She was pretty, he thought, for a zombie.

"How do you know about that?" he asked.

"I tinker," she said with a shrug. "When I'm anxious. Which is a lot of the time lately, to be honest. Too much energy. Sometimes it helps to take things apart an put them back together again."

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no idea what he planned on saying. He closed it again and turned back to his contraption.

"Well, don't get any ideas about taking this apart," he grumbled, resetting the mechanism.

"No, I wouldn't," she assured him. "I only mess with my own things until I'm sure I can get them back the way they started. I learned that the hard way. This is really amazing. You are pulling in a boat load of energy. I just hope you don't burn the buildings down when it runs into the wiring. You're a musician, right? I've heard you practicing through the walls. I was so relieved you were good!"

Did this woman never stop talking? Despite his lack of response she seemed perfectly content to stand behind him, shining her flood light on the shed as he worked to get things running again.

"Oh! I see what you did there!" she commented brightly as the low hum of electricity started back up. "That should fix it. And I'm pretty sure I will be able to do that myself next time too!"

"Don't," he ordered, shutting the door with a loud clang. "If there is any problem with the power, I will fix it. I don't need someone else ruining my work."

"But if you're not here?" she repeated doggedly.

"Look, this has never been an issue before, why are you suddenly on my case about it now?"

"I didn't live here before," she answered. "I just moved in last week. This... this was my Grandmother's home. She died. Last week. I'm trying to sort it all now but..."

The light from his headtorch clearly lit up the tears that sprang to her eyes. As Adam stood there in horror, the girl's chin began to wobble and silent sobs hiccupped through her body. A moment later she had burst out crying. Adam, unable to think of anything else to do, slowly and gingerly put one arm around her shaking shoulders and patted her lamely on the back, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world.

***

Lilly woke up completely horrified. It had been a dream, she told herself. It had to have been a dream. That was the only way she was going to survive the events of the night before.

The soreness in her eyes and the streaks of mascara on the backs of her hands, unfortunately, told her the sad truth. It had been real. She had met her dark, handsome, mysterious neighbor, the one who played dark, mysterious music at all hours of the night, on a dark, mysterious rooftop. (Well, okay, maybe the rooftop hadn't been that mysterious, but still!) And what had she done? She had wept all over him like pathetic child.

This, she sighed to herself, was one of the many many reasons why she was single. Any normal girl would have played the damsel in distress, fluttered their eyes and let him be their hero. He certainly had the looks of a brooding hero, even if he seemed to lack the inclination. Of course, it might just be that he lacked the inclination because she had yammered on about anxiety and tinkering, and her grandmother's death and the cried all over him.

Groaning, she rolled over and looked at her clock, only to be greeted by blinking numbers. Of course. She had been too upset when he had finally managed to steer her back to her roof hatch and rid himself of her, lost in a combination of grief and humiliation, to reset it. Great. That meant that the alarm had never gone off. It could be any time now. A quick glance at her phone confirmed her fear. 4:00 in the afternoon. It had happened. She had become completely nocturnal.

Slowly dragging herself up, Lilly staggered to the bathroom and tried to let the hot water wash away her misery. She was tired of feeling miserable. By nature she was not a gloomy person. Anxious, yes, but not gloomy. It was just being here, in the house that once was her happy place but now held too many memories. All she could see where ever she looked was her beloved grandmother. Playing the piano, reading in the window nook, cooking in the large, renovated kitchen. Grandma Lillian was everywhere.

Growing up, Lilly had been an awkward child; small of body but big of personality Gran had said. She was always moving, either her hands or her mouth, having a hard time with stillness. It drove many people to distraction. Grandma Lillian, however, had stated quite matter of factly that she simply had a lot to do and more to say, and therefore needed to do it quickly.

Lilly had spent all of her summers and school vacations here, escaping into the city. Here, she could be herself. With all of the characters in New York City, she was far from the oddest. Grandma Lillian let her patter away happily, always taking her words seriously. She had also found all sorts of mechanical things for Lilly to tinker with, focusing her energy in a more productive direction. It was nonsense, she had opined, that girls were not encouraged more to go into the technical fields. Obviously that was the reason why nothing in this world ran properly.

She had hidden her illness from the family, from Lilly, until the very end. Lilly cursed herself that she had not seen through the excuses for the cancelled visits. A seniors cruise with her girlfriends! She could not imagine the opinionated woman stuck on a boat without someone going overboard. It wasn't until the very end, when she was had been taken to Hospice, that she had phoned Lillian to let her know that it was time to come and visit.

That was eight days ago. Lillian had held her hand at the end, singing in her tear choked voice the torch songs that her Grandmother had once made her living crooning in the night clubs of the city. It had not taken long. Less than a day and Lilly was alone, the owner of a house in the East Village and more money than she had ever imagined possessing, but much the poorer regardless.

The ensuing week was spent puttering around the brownstone, listlessly going through desks and dressers, boxes and cupboards. The memorabilia of a lifetime squirreled away into any available space. She had no need to work at the moment, which was good since she had no employment. Slowly but surely her own night owl tendencies had taken over and she was staying up until the sun streaked the horizon in the morning, only to bed down for the majority of the day. Her parents had always fretted and said it was a sign of depression. Gran had shrugged and agreed that the most exciting things happened at night.

The only excitement Lillian had experienced thus far had been the discovery that a new owner was in residence next door. For as long as she could remember there had been a constant stream of college and conservatory students renting out rooms in the building, turning over each year to the newest crop. Now though, there was one lodger only and he owned the building.

She had caught sight of him out the front window as he was leaving her second night there. Long, wild black hair that looked in want of brushing, black leather jacket, and black jeans that might have been painted on. He was tall, lean, and somehow dangerous looking. It was the way he walked, she decided. There was something almost feral in the swagger as he took off down the street. The next night she had heard him playing music.

At first she thought there were multiple musicians, but after hours spent guiltlessly eavesdropping she became convinced that it was only him. Interspersed with guitars, drums, bass, and other instruments that she couldn't name had come his voice, a distinctive low growl that cut through her sorrow to go straight to her core. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as surely as she heard the bass thumping through the walls.

She began haunting the window overlooking their stoops, hoping for sight of him. She caught glimpses a time or two, always late at night, well after dark. Rather he was coming in or going out, he seemed to eschew the daylight even more than she did. Lilly felt drawn to him, and by more than just his untamed beauty. She supposed she could write it off as one of her hyper-fixations, but intuitively she sensed it was more. She longed for an excuse to meet him.

And then she had. At night, on a roof, under a bright moon.

It would have been perfectly romantic, were she not dressed in a ratty sweatshirt and yoga pants, her hair flopped up any old way on her head. If her first words to him were not gasped out in a shriek, followed by thoughtless prattle. And the, the coup de gras, her sobbing breakdown. The look of unmixed horror on his face as he made his feeble attempt to calm her was burned into Lilly's brain.

She had to get rid of it. There might only be one chance to make a first impression, but maybe, just maybe, a second impression could in time supersede it. Never one to sit on a thought, Lilly squared her shoulders. It was six o'clock, he was bound to still be in. She would pay him a visit and apologize for her horrid behavior.

Yes, that was the plan. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It was bound to go better than last time.

#adam olla #Adam/OFC #Tom Hiddleston #Fic #Only Lovers Left Alive #OLLA #angst #anxiety #eventual smut #grief #will lighten up #I promise #smut to come

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sweetlavenderwritings · 4 years

Text

Back To His Nest- Pt. 2

A/N: I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I DIDN’T EXPECT THE LOVE THE FIC GOT AND WAS VERY SURPRISED. I initially planned to leave it at that maybe?? but then many of ya’ll actually wanted a part two and i had to rack up my brain on what was gonna happen ( ´△｀) anyways it’s here and i hope it doesn’t disappoint!

Pairing/s: hawks/keigo takami x reader

Word Count: 2 772

Tags: very light angst, love, eventual fluff, domestic fluff,

-ꦼ———▸ Part 1

⋅. ♪ .⋅ Loving Keigo Playlist

8 Years later…

You haven’t heard from him ever since you left. As planned, your parents had called him in advance. Telling him he shouldn’t try and contact you anymore, that trying to find you would be a waste of time. You were such a coward that you couldn’t even leave a message, your parents bearing the responsibility of telling him you’ve cut off ties with him completely.

It hurt. The pain was unbearable for the first few months, restless nights of crying as you struggled to keep your composure. You couldn’t even erase his number from your saved contacts. His callers ID still the same nickname you had for him. Despite your parents warning about not contacting you anymore, he still left a call every day. There were neither questions nor any form of pleading you to come back. Because you never answered, he left small messages that he sent at random times of the day. There was no consistent message of what the calls were all about. It was as if he left these messages like a personal diary he’d write to when he felt like it.

“The day’s great today. It’s a bit hotter than usual but I’m quite grateful for the heat since flying always got me cold.” Yes it did, it was one thing about flying that he disliked. He just got too cold easily, which was why every time he got home, he’d head straight to the showers for a long hot soak then demand cuddles. He liked to call you his personal heater.

“It was too bright though, I had to keep squinting and I almost slammed face first to a billboard! Could you imagine that? Number Two Hero Getting Clumsy! Slams into Make Up Ad Starfish Style.” He laughed. “Okay, that was the worst headline ever. Could you blame me? I’m not really much of a writer like you are. Somehow, you always knew how to string words together beautifully… Ahh, looks like a low class villain is up to no good. I’ll catch up to you later. I love you baby bird.”

And just like that, he hangs up. They always ended in the same way, him having to cut it short because of his duties, and the constant line of ‘I love you.’ It felt so unfair, how he’d make it harder for you to move on. You knew better than to listen to them, but you still did. You drunk up his voice whenever you heard it, closing your eyes and imagining he was actually there right in front of you, talking to you. When he hangs up, the sad illusion is gone.

There were times you almost called him back, desperately wanting to run back into his arms. To apologize for leaving, to tell him the truth, to tell him you never stopped loving him in the first place. But as your fingers almost reach the call button, your fear of the Hero Public Commission stop you every time.

So you settle for watching him in the news, seeing the headlines as he saves dozens of people every day. You read every article you see online, scouring every page for stories. It was torture, but you had to keep strong, not just for yourself. It wasn’t like you were alone in this anymore.

After 9 long months, you finally gave birth to your child. His child.

She was perfect. She looked almost exactly like him, honey blond hair and yellow eyes that seemed to glow. Her image made you miss him so much it hurt. But these feelings of pain and misery were shoved off to the back of your mind, choosing instead to focus on your newfound feelings of joy and contentment. After so long, you felt like you could be happy again.

You named her Keiko, meaning “adored one”, because she was. With enough patience, you raised her by yourself. You dedicated your whole life making sure she grew up to be happy; it felt like you were compensating for the pain you brought upon to you and Hawks. Somehow, you comforted yourself with the fact that you saved your child from the horrors of what may come to her when the world comes to know of her existence.

---

“Mom, come look it’s him again!” Keiko cheered, pointing at the television. An all too familiar winged hero comes on screen, gracefully flying in the air as he saved civilians from a burning building one by one. Your daughter let out another cheer as the number two hero successfully saves all of the civilians. Thankfully, the fire didn’t spread further with the help of the fire fighters helping from behind the scenes.

You stare at the screen as the news reporter interviews Hawks, him looking quite worn out but he manages to give the camera a smile and an enthusiastic response. If it was anyone else, he would’ve looked well composed, not breaking a sweat as he nonchalantly brushes off the praises he gets.

“All in a day’s work.” He says.

But you knew better.

Your daughter turns to you with a beaming smile, happy knowing her favourite hero once again saves the day. Her next words made your heart sank, “For my birthday tomorrow, can we meet him please?! I just want a picture and an autograph, that’s it I promise!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that baby. Hawks is a busy man and there are no chances we can just see him.” This was a lie of course, you knew he’d jump in at any opportunity to see you again but you couldn’t risk it. It pains you to see your daughter so disappointed, but you had to continue lying. For her sake.

“Tell you what, we can at least go to his district tomorrow and buy his merch. I can even get you one of those limited edition wings if you want.” Hawks’ merch was expensive, so his limited edition merchandise was gonna hurt your pockets like a bitch but it was worth it just to make up for what you couldn’t give your dear Keiko.

“Really?!” Keiko squealed as she bounced around the living room, “I can’t believe I’m going to have my own wings like Hawks, the number two hero! I can’t wait to tell Kiyoko as soon as I get them, she’ll be so jealous of me haha!” You smiled as you picked her up from the couch, stopping her from jumping off.

“If you sleep early tonight we might be able to make it there tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay!”

You’ve never felt so nervous before. Because one, you were going to Hawks’ precinct with your daughter, all the more chances of meeting him despite NOT wanting to do that. Two, if by some chance- or karma- you both crossed paths, all your hard work would be all for naught. Hawks wasn’t stupid; he’s by far the most observant man you’ve ever met. Many people don’t know this with the way he eludes them with his charm, thus forgetting he’s the number two hero for a reason. Which means even a small glance at your-his daughter; he’d be able to puzzle the pieces together.

So by desperation, you snuggled your daughter with a big fluffy hat, tied her hair into neat pigtails, and then gave her the favourite pair of pink, heart sunglasses she always liked to wear. She scrunched her nose at you fussing over her appearance, but this was only because she was too excited and wanted to leave immediately. You wore a coat, and sunglasses to hopefully hide yourself as well without looking too suspicious. With a final look in the mirror, you left the house with your daughter in tow.

An hour turned into two, then three, four, five…

“Kei honey, please. It’s time to go home.” You pleaded. You two spent the next hours walking around and buying her gifts. But whenever you stopped near a shop, Keiko never seemed to lose energy and somehow pulled you into another store to “check things out.” It’s times like this you wondered if you spoiled her too much.

“Wait not yet! We might see him here somewhere!” Keiko tugged at your sleeves as she pointed to the main plaza. “I saw him give interviews here last week mommy; maybe he’ll do it again!”

“Baby please, I told you we’re not here for that. We already bought your gifts so it’s time to go home and-“

“Mommy, look! I think it’s him!” Oh no.

As if on cue, the famous red winged hero zoomed in on a scene. A villain, large one at that, appeared in the middle of a crowd and began harming nearby civilians as if it was panicking. How did you not notice that?

But now was not the time, you had to get your daughter out of harm’s way and hopefully, his too. Hauling your shopping bags into the loops of your arms, you carried your whining daughter into your arms and darted in the opposite direction you saw Hawks headed.

Hawks POV

How long has it been, eight years? He never wanted to keep count, but he still did.

God, he was pathetic. He’s supposed to move on by now, find another woman to give his affections to, forget about you then happily live his life.

But he couldn’t and it sucked.

He always felt he was too sentimental despite being a double agent. You would think after all he went through, he’d be hardened and cold as stone. Yet he remained quite soft, too empathetic as what his superiors commented. Fuck that.

He’s on his last patrol for the day, flying over the main plaza to keep civilians bustling on the streets. He doesn’t have any plans for later (as he usually does), so he thinks he’ll spend another night away drinking in his balcony or watch a sappy chick flick in the late hours.

He remembers he has fan mail he’s yet to open. Not that he’s ever obligated to do so, he’s free to throw them in the shredder for all he cares. They’re mostly enveloped underwear sprayed with sickeningly sweet perfume anyways. But he’s been receiving sweet letters from a little girl lately. Messages full of pure adorations and gratitude for his work. Judging by the handwritings and small creative decorations, the letters clearly had been made with a lot of effort. He can’t help but look forward to them every week, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

His thoughts of his late evening plans are disrupted with the sudden sounds of screams and shrieking from below. Without wasting a second he rushes to the scene.

As he got closer, his eyes widened at the sight of who was causing the ruckus, or rather, what.

He dodged the Nomu’s sharp claws that swiped by his face at an alarming speed. In a beat, his feather flew from different directions, all leading to his target. They cut deep gashes onto its skin, but the Nomu’s regeneration was fast, healing its wounds as soon as it was inflicted on it.

Hawks never deterred, continuing his attacks while sending some of his feathers to keep away civilians from the disaster transpiring near him.

He could vaguely hear cheers and shouts from the crowd as he rapidly attacks the creature, somehow finding it difficult to cause enough damage to knock it out of conscious. As he flies around the attacking monster, he spots a vulnerable looking spot in its neck. Pausing for a second, he narrows his eyes as he aims. He was about to release a feather until the Nomu lets out a loud piercing shriek, causing everyone near them to shut their eyes at the screeching wail and cover their eyes.

Fuuck, it must have sensed me. He thought.

As soon as it stopped it’s shrieking, it speeded off to another direction. With a curse, Hawks followed it in pursuit. Pushing and carrying away with his feathers to keep them from getting harmed. The Nomu sets its eyes on a little girl with her mother, launching itself on its haunches then runs at a great speed towards the two.

The little girl screams then hides herself in her mother’s arms. The mother tries desperately to get away, but with the Nomu’s great speed and the closing distance between them there was nothing left to do but to brace herself in front of her child.

“No!” Hawks yells as the Nomu’s claws at the mother. Before it could land another attack, he strikes one of his biggest feathers at its neck. The Nomu stills, and then drops to the ground.

Hawks doesn’t have time to check if it’s dead or not, rushing over to the poor injured mother with her crying child. As he finally makes his way to the woman his heart stops.

It was you.

With shaking arms, he cradled you against his chest. He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, he got to see you again. And with a child! Wait… a child?

He took a look at the crying girl, blond hair and honey eyes… just like him.

His eyes widened in shock. Hair and eyes just like his, it couldn’t be.

“Is my mom gonna be okay?” The girl sniffled. He mentally slapped himself in the face, how could he forget the situation at hand and not comfort his distressed child? “She’ll be okay,” he assured her, “Help is on the way, okay? Can you breathe slowly for me birdie? So you can calm down.”

She wipes the tears from her eyes and nods. At the sound of an ambulance, he stands up while he carries your unconscious body. As the medics put you in a stretcher, he takes the time to actually look at you.

You looked much more different. Hair a different length from before, eyes much more tired, and cheeks less full. It must’ve been hard for you, he thinks. But now I’m here.

He turns to look for his daughter, who was behind him all along. Slowly, he bends over to pick up her shaking form. She raises her arms in surprise, but trusting nonetheless. As he settles her in one arm, he holds her close and looks at her.

“What’s your name, kid?” he softly asks.

“Keiko.” She mumbles shyly. Keiko, you named her after my own name? Hawks felt tears springing into the corners of his eyes. Before he could wipe them away, Keiko surprises him with a hug to his neck. She clings onto him as if he was her lifeline as he mutters something in his ear.

“Thank you for saving me hero.” Hawks finally lets his tears fall.

Reader’s POV

After waking up, you found yourself lying in a hospital bed. Your body felt heavy, you desperately needed to pee, and your throat was parched. You looked around and see your daughter was asleep in a couch near your bed. There was a small bouquet of flowers in your nightstand, but what surprised you the most was the warm, calloused hands that held your left hand; the very same hands that you held years ago. Keigo was asleep.

You ran your hands softly in his hair, a small habit you used to do when he came home utterly exhausted. Hawks stirred in his sleep before opening his eyes. Honey orbs met yours as you felt a smile form on your face.

“Good morning to you too, Kei.”

“Chealsey, oh thank god.” He leapt up from his spot on your bed then embraced you. The hug made you wince but you could’ve cared less. You missed him, you craved for his warmth for years and you never thought you’d ever feel him again. Now he was finally here…

You felt tears fall to your cheeks as you formed apologies in your lips. Hawks merely shushed you as he held you in his arms, “It’s okay, I understand. I know everything.” You clutched his shirt as you sobbed in his chest, letting go all pain and misery you’ve been holding in for years. He kisses your tears away, letting you release all your pent up emotions. He was just glad he had you in his arms once again.

Keiko woke up from her sleep, looking at the two of you in a mess of tangled limbs and tears. “Huh?” she mumbled. “Mommy, why are you crying? What’s going on?”

You both let out a laugh, sharing the same thought. There was going to be a lot to explaining to do.

A/N: fINALLY!! The ending is here! Hope ya’ll liked it everyone ≧(´▽｀)≦ this is unedited and i might do so when i wake up the next day lol. tysm for the love ya’ll gave this ficlet and im sorry for the wait.

#hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #mha hawks #bnha #mha #mha x you #keigo takami #keigo #keigo x reader

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