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hetalia-reacts · 3 years

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PLATONIC HEADCANINS !! PLATONIC HEADCANONS !! HOW ABOUT- a doting touchy-feely PLATONC reader with the allies?? Friendship headcanons :3 (do Axis if u can but PLEASE don't do that if you are tired or busy PLEASE don't ♡♡:))

America

I feel Alfred is also a bit of a touchy-feely kind of friend too

Especially with best friends and whatnot

Is either always at your house or telling you to come to his

He just wants to watch movies or play video games with you

Heck he just wants to exist in the same room with his bestie

Will Alfred wake you up at 3am to do something with him?

Yes

Y’all will either be doing mundane things like going on a store run or literally committing a crime

There is N O in between

Since the both of you are both touchy-feely and likely clinging to each other you bet you’ve gotten the same question 1000x

“Are you two dating?”

You both either go for the ewww hell no or a straight faced but sarcastic yes we totally are

But it’s 50/50 if you both actually go for the same response

It’s a game at this point to see if you guys can read each other’s minds

You guys usually make an awkward situation for the person that asked because one will say yes and the other says eww and neither of you will back down and explain that you guys are just sarcastic and teasing jerks lmao

England

Arthur isn’t the most touchy person so having a friend that is can be tough sometimes

He does appreciate the hugs and physical comfort/support but he just gets kinda awkward

Well at first anyways

When you are certified besties he’s used to it and one can often find him gravitating towards you to just be close

Will never admit he likes it though sorry he’s a hard head

No one dares ask either of y’all that dreaded question though because they don’t want to deal with his sarcasm and the lecture that’s sure to follow

Arthur is a chill bestie though

Often invites you over to just be together

He doesn’t care if it’s just to talk, do something, or simply enjoy the presence of someone else

Help him cook maybe?

Even if you suck at cooking he enjoys attempting to cook with someone else

And that also means having fun in the kitchen and being complete dorks the whole time

And also having to order food or eat a sandwich because unless you can cook it’s going to be inedible

Will make you watch and read Sherlock, even if he has to be there or read it to you it’s happening

France

Francis is very touchy as a friend unless he knows someone dislikes it

So having a bestie that is like him is perfect

People probably think y’all are glued together at this point

No one would ever think y’all are dating either because Francis acts completely different with his bestie than a love interest

He’s kind of a mean ass ngl

He likes to jokingly bicker and fight with you

And definitely likes to cling and be dramatic with you to the point it’s annoying to others

Francis drags you with him everywhere

His house, the gym, the store, England’s house, etc

He cant just go alone anymore it would feel wrong like he’s forgetting something

If you’re bad at dressing or have no style he’s got your back

Literally shops for you but also constantly says things like you’ll never look as good as him

You are also one fo the few that will ever see Francis get serious or down in the dumps

It’s just something he doesn’t wear on his sleeve and reserves for those closest to him

Canada

Matthew is not used to having people cling to him

He’s not really used to having people notice him so having a someone that’s his bestie, that notices him the most, and always clings and talks to him is a strange and wild concept

Doesn’t mind the touchiness and honestly rather prefers it

He’s kinda touch starved :/

Matthew is likely always at your house with Kumajirou

Movie marathon and cuddles yo

Also as his closest friend you come to see his ‘secret’ side of being sarcastic and a complete savage

This boy does not hold back with you either

Maybe at first he did but when he realized y’all are in this friend stuff for life he won’t censor or sugar coat things if it’s not necessary

Makes you play and watch hockey with him

Will teach you everything if you know nothing

Matthew is the type of friend to invite you to his families holidays/vacations and come to yours

He knows and is cool with basically all of your family

I mean who could hate or dislike this polite boy?

Russia

Ivan is not used to friendship either as people usually tremble in fear before him

so having a friend that is touchy on top of having a close friend can be a bit much at times

But he’s happy!

He loves the hugs! Loves the contact! Loves having a friend!

Loves cuddles most of all he won’t lie, Ivan loves the feeling of comfort and support when you cuddle him

People do often assume you two are dating because most people assume someone would only put up with him if they were in love with him

Neither of you mind the rumors since y’all know the truth

Ivan is the sweetest friend

He shows up unannounced with food or groceries all the time

Always helping you out without being asked

Like oh your washing machine broke I fixed it/bought you a new one already or oh you suck at this let me explain it and teach it to you

Does this completely unprompted

He’s always over at yours or always inviting you over to his

Wants to do classic friend things?

Like things he sees in movies and shows that friends do a lot or things he’s overheard from others

Late night store runs, hanging out at parks, showing up unannounced to crash at your place, those kind of things

You’re the only person he confides in, you know all his secrets, his sadness, everything

Honestly, Ivan is the person who needs a touchy-feely friend the most out of everyone

China

Yao is happy about having a touchy friend but will always play like he hates it

Not in like a tsundere “I totally d-don’t need friends baka” kind of way but a really dramatic “omg I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me haha loser” kind of way

He’s only joking of course and apologizes if you get hurt by his teasing or he crosses a line

Only a brave few would try and ask if y’all are more than friends

They have to listen to a lecture with an angry Yao explaining that people can be close and not want to date and how immature and inappropriate they’re being

Totally the type of friend that mothers you

Constantly says you look skinnier than last time and forces you to eat because he’s worried for you

Will not sugar coat anything for you

If you ask for his advice then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get it even if it makes you cry or get mad

Yao wants you over at his constantly

He’s lonely man ㅠㅠ

And he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his house

Expect a lot of his gifts for your birthday/holiday to be cute plushies he found

Germany

Ludwig act differently depending on when y’all become besties

Like before Italy, he’s nervous, confused, and slightly annoyed by all the touching and notion of being besties

If it’s after Italy he’s used to all the touchiness and has figured out how to show his friendship to you in other ways

Like making you things! Or simply inviting you to hang out!

Ludwigs is always gonna be a bit awkward though

Always shy about hanging out and inviting you over

Many people assume you two to be dating because of his awkwardness but he is the first to start defending your friendship and it’s pure nature

He develops a sixth sense and now answers people’s questions about the two of you without even looking at them

He can just feel the nasty vibes

Asks you to do mundane things with him

Like shopping or even chores

Asks you to come bake with him a lot

It was embarrassing at first since not many people know his love of making sweets but he’s over that now

I know I say this a lot, but please work out with him _(:3 」∠)_

My guy just wants a work out buddy, a spotter, a n y t h i n g just please pick up the smallest dumbbell and pretend you want to work out

If you ask for advice expect him to be straight to the point about it but comfort you afterwards

Italy

Feliciano is a god tier bestie if your touchy-feely

Doesn’t matter if that touchy-feely emotionally and/or physically he’s down for both

Like please hold his hand, hug him, give him head pats, cheek kisses or any form affection really

No one even thinks anything of it, it’s just Feliciano being himself

If anyone did ask if you were dating he might get self-conscious of his actions, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like he was trying to be something more with you

He’s easy to calm down though

Feliciano invites you out all the time

Restaurants, wine tastings, farmers markets, gondola rides, just about anything he can think of that he thinks you would like to do

Always at your house

He eats all of your food too, but he makes you some in return so it’s okay

Gives really good advice

Like for his bestie he’ll get super serious and thoughtful about your issues, even spending days thinking of solutions

Tries not to sugar coat things for you but ends up doing just that

He doesn’t want to make his friend cry or even more anxious

Will comfort you though if you are upset about anything he’s said and apologizes profusely for it too

Japan

Kiku is overall one of the ones who needs a touchy bestie but is the most challenging with receiving or giving the touchiness back

He’s a man who enjoys personal space and alone time, so he’s honestly surprised anyone considers him a true best friend

He knows he can get a bit feisty and shut himself away when he gets uncomfortable and that makes it hard to truly befriend him

But he’s really happy you stick around and deal with his awkwardness and rejection of your affection

Tries his hardest to at least accept your friendly affection

No one would dare ask if you two are flirting or together because my god it’s taking so much of his effort to just sit less than 2 feet away from you at the start so they don’t want to ruin his progress by making it awkward

Kiku definitely asks for your opinion on anime and manga

Gets into heated debates with you over certain ones

Is shy but asks you to come over a lot

Likes to have tea and snacks with you while you guys talk

Y’all can talk for literally a whole day

You sleepover a lot, he insists and even got you your own futon with a cool custom cover

Gifts you a kotatsu at some point because he loves them and he thinks you should enjoy them all the time too

When he gets over a lot of shyness he loves when you do simple forms of affection with him

Like ruffling his hair or holding onto his arm or even just leaning against him

He enjoys those the most since they aren’t too physical and mentally taxing on him and it still let you physically express your friendship with him like you love to do

If you ask for advice either get prepared for a harsh wake up call or a stumbling mess of words

It’s 50/50 if Kiku gives you the stone cold truth or tries to spare your feelings

As your friend he thinks you deserve the truth but he doesn’t want his harsh advice to ruin your mood or make you hate him

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sirenprincess15 · 3 years

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Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 13

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: Angsty Aleksander considers possibilities for handling Alina now that she knows the truth. Fedyor discusses his relationship with Ivan. This chapter is a deep dive into Aleksander's thoughts and emotions as he fears Alina will choose to be with Mal.

Chapter 13

Aleksander stared at his favorite painting in the war room. It was a vivid picture of the sky with a vibrant sun; the rays flooded down into the dark sea. He gently reached his hand up to touch one of the rays, but it was just paint on canvas. It couldn’t actually warm. He wondered if this was as close to sunlight as his war room would ever see again. Alina was with the tracker, and surely she was never coming back.

Oh he was trying to convince himself that she would realize the tracker was no match for her, perhaps if he just let them meet and talk it through she’d figure it out on her own, but he knew he was fooling himself. Without any real hope, he’d gone through the motions--summoned the tracker for her, given him accommodations in a suite even, allowed them to meet alone. Now it was late in the night and Ivan was guarding outside the suite. He’d promised to send word to Aleksander if their heartbeats changed, for any reason. Aleksander tried not to think about that even as the image of the tracker putting his hands all over her body refused to leave his mind. Perhaps she would remember he’d been kind in 50 years when she realized the mortality of the tracker. Maybe it would only be 30. The tracker certainly couldn’t hold her attraction for long.

But if she chose the tracker, there was the dilemma of what to do about her power, and that was why he was already on his second bottle of kvas. He knew what needed to be done, but he wasn’t sure that his heart could do it. He would have to force her to use her power the way they needed. There really was no choice. The lives and safety of all Grisha depended on their powers. It wasn’t something he could just give up because she had a crush on her little mortal friend. The tracker would never agree to any of his plans, and Alina would listen to him. Aleksander was very much regretting not choosing that army accident for the tracker, but then there was the matter of possibly needing him for the Stag, which Alina had to have for anything to go right. Aleksander sighed and refilled his glass. Truly, the choices were going to end up being manipulating her into using her power as he saw fit or trusting David’s idea of how to get control of it. To manipulate her, he would have to use the tracker, which meant letting her be with him now. And, of course, there was still that unlikely possibility she might actually pick him. It was a laughably remote possibility, but his heart wouldn’t let him make choices that closed that option off.

He had been playing this game of long chess for centuries. He was well accustomed to making the difficult choices, to realizing you had to sacrifice something that meant a great deal to you to make it to the end game. This game was different, though. Everything changed when you truly loved one of the pawns and wanted to make her your queen.

He tried to focus his attention back on the painting, but all Aleksander could see was the look of hatred in Alina’s eyes when she called him the Black Heretic. All he could hear was her screaming about all he had done wrong. How would she look at him if he collared her and took control of her with David’s idea? How much worse might it be if he threatened to kill the oh-so-precious Mal to get her to do what he wanted? But he didn’t want any of those things. He wanted her to choose him, to help him defend all Grisha, together. The possibilities of how things might go if she didn’t wouldn’t leave his mind. He had seen now how she stared at him when she was filled with hate. Could he bear her looking at him like that to protect Grisha? Could he bear failing all Grisha just to get her to smile at him again? It was enough to fill his eyes with tears and make his jaw tremble, but even here, alone, protected in his office, he could not let himself let those walls down and feel. He was too dangerous when he let himself become overtaken with emotions.

A knock at the door startled him. It was well into the night. No one would come to disturb him … unless Ivan had sent them with news of Alina’s heartbeat. Was she having sex with the tracker right now? Surely the tracker hadn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t dare in his palace. Aleksander strode across the room to answer the door.

“Fedyor?” Aleksander’s voice rose with surprise. He paused a moment for the heartrender to explain his presence, but the man seemed quite flustered that he’d actually answered the door. “I do recall giving you specific instructions to get some rest because I might need you to guard Alina in the morning.”

“Um, yes, about that …”

Aleksander waited. Fedyor opened his mouth to speak several times, grimaced apparently at the words he was about to form, and then closed his mouth again. Aleksander raised an eyebrow in question but then tried to clear his head enough to analyze the behavior. The blush to Fedyor’s cheeks said he was embarrassed and it was clearly about something he didn’t want to admit. “You can’t sleep without Ivan,” he guessed.

Fedyor scrunched his face and shrugged his shoulders with unease. “I can’t sleep without Ivan,” he confirmed. “And if you’re truly going to need me in the morning, then you should know. But then I thought that if I am having trouble sleeping without Ivan, you might be missing Alina too. And maybe you might like some company? Ivan was worried about you.” He paused and shook his head. “Yeah, I hear myself now. I’ll show myself out.”

“You’re drunk!” Aleksander laughed. “You missed Ivan so much that you got yourself drunk.” And, yet, he was doing the exact same thing.

“A wee bit,” Fedyor said, holding up his fingers a small distance apart. “Am I going to be in trouble for not sleeping? I am in for it with Ivan if I upset you.”

Aleksander grabbed Fedyor by the arm and guided him in. “I should definitely reprimand you for disobeying orders,” Aleksander agreed. “Keep drinking with me and I will forget to do it.” He pulled a second glass from his desk drawer. It would have been Alina’s glass. Screw it all. He could work on having a well-oiled Grisha military machine that instantly obeyed any order tomorrow. Tonight, he actually could use the company.

“Drone on and on for me about the virtues of Ivan? Perhaps you will keep me distracted.” Aleksander tossed back his drink and then filled two glasses.

“You really love her that much, huh, sir?”

“We aren’t talking about me. We are talking about you and Ivan.” Aleksander tried to redirect, but his own thoughts were all over the place. “Did Ivan actually say he was worried about me?”

“He cares about you a great deal, sir. He’d prefer you to think he’s just a good soldier that has perfected anticipating your orders, but he considers you a friend. And, yes, he’s quite worried Alina will break your heart.”

His heart had been broken a long time ago, from betrayal after betrayal, from losing Luda, from seeing friend after friend die, from seeing his people suffer so severely for so long. Alina had just been the only one who could reach inside and hold together the pieces. Rather than cry about it, he had another drink. “You are not keeping up.”

Fedyor’s smile said he was more than happy to meet that challenge.

“Who else knows?”

“About …?”

“Miss Starkov not being in here. Have people started noticing?” It was silly to worry about bearing that humiliation. He was ancient. He could endure a few mortals noticing his girlfriend had left him. A few growls, maybe a few shadows at dinner time, and they would all snap into line and stop gossiping. Really, he had much bigger concerns to be worrying about, but perhaps because he did not want to think through those concerns any longer, he found it easier to focus on this problem that could potentially be solved.

Fedyor shook his head. “I have not heard gossip, sir, and believe me, when the Little Palace starts gossiping, I know. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to keep to your chambers and avoid meals. Only Ivan, Innessa, and I have been guarding her to know where she’s going. I think it will be a while before anyone notices anything amiss. Nadia would probably be the first because of her closeness with Alina. I could have her stationed at …”

“No,” Aleksander interrupted with a raised hand. “No, she is a good friend to Alina. In fact, I should encourage them to spend more time together. Give Alina a friend that is her future and not her past. Someone who lifts her up. Could you arrange for Nadia to invite Alina for some girl time or something tomorrow?” Perhaps that would get her away from the tracker. “Maybe Genya too.” He sighed heavily. “Unless Alina has realized Genya spies for me. I forgot to disclose that to her. I am going to be realizing things I hid and half truths I told her for some time. She thinks we should be 100% open and honest with each other on absolutely everything. Can you imagine?”

Fedyor nodded. “She does have a point. That is the best way for a relationship. It sounds hard, but there is something to be said for someone knowing you through and through to your core and still loving all of you the same.”

The words wounded as deep as the Cut could. Aleksander narrowed his eyes and stared at Fedyor with such anger, it was almost as if his gaze could cut back. Fedyor squirmed in his seat until he finally added, “Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine,” Aleksander said. The pain was real, but it wasn’t Fedyor’s fault. Aleksander had thought Alina loved him. It was in her kisses, in her smile when he told a joke, in the way they made love. He had been so stupid to think that might mean that he could have what others had--true love, acceptance. He had thought that the problem with finding a true partner was his immortality. Alina had the potential to solve that issue, and it could have been amazing. He had almost forgotten he had centuries of shame that no one could ever possibly accept. It had never gone well when he had tried to confide in a friend along the years. The Black Heretic could never be forgiven. Ivan knew, but he was the exception, and Ivan accepted it only because he had seen so much horror in his own life. Aleksander was so dumb to think that Alina might possibly be able to accept him to his core, as Fedyor had said. Her rejection of his true self cut deep inside. It was a wound that would bleed and ache for centuries as he tried to learn how to function with her without her love. He could not blame her. His core was so dark, his mistakes so heinous, how could she possibly accept any of that? She had seen through to his core and hated what she saw there. Who could blame her?

“We are not drinking enough for this conversation,” he said while refilling their glasses and trying to shake off his dark thoughts.

“For what it’s worth, Ivan thinks you should just hold Alina down, force the Stag on her, and use David’s trick to gain her power. Then you don’t have to worry about her heart. I don’t know how he can say that. He would never do that to me. I don’t know why he expects you to be able to do it to her.”

“Ivan knows that the lives of all Grisha are dependent upon our using her power. We are trapped by the Fold, and our enemies are coming for us. Even our own people are turning on us. We need her to be able to protect all Grisha from persecution, death. He has seen … what happens when we don’t have that. And he knows that if we were to somehow lose control of her, her power, then they would come for us. He thinks we shouldn’t let the slaughter of all Grisha depend on a young woman’s whims, and he’s not wrong.”

“But you refuse because you love her?” Fedyor’s love for a good romance showed in his voice, even in his eyes.

“I love her,” Aleksander said without hesitation. “But even I would struggle to justify refusing for that reason alone. Using an amplifier to transfer power is a theory. Untested. We don’t actually know what that would do. What if it hurts her? What if it hurts her power, diminishes it? We cannot risk losing Alina’s power or the Stag. That amplifier is too rare to take chances with. Until David’s technique is proven, we cannot take the chance. I’ve authorized him to begin developing it. I will let him test it on a willing subject, but not Alina. I have a guard whose Grisha power never developed. He is a good man, and he is willing to sacrifice for our cause. His partner is Grisha. David will see if he can get it to work with a minor amplifier with them. Then, we shall see.”

“That is well thought out, sir.”

Aleksander shrugged. Thinking, strategizing, planning, those were his strengths. Love? This was all foreign to him, but not to Fedyor. Aleksander had an expert in a solid relationship right in front of him. “So tell me, Fedyor, if you needed to use Ivan’s power to save all Grisha, what would you do?”

“Then I would talk to him about it, sir.”

“And if that didn’t persuade him?”

“Then I guess I would talk some more. I cannot imagine … forcing, that would never work.”

Aleksander sighed. Fedyor was right, of course. Alina would never forgive him for forcing her if it came to that. It was just that it was the fate of all Grisha on their shoulders. “And if he preferred to just sleep with another man instead?” That stupid tracker would be the ruin of everything.

“Then I think I’d probably kill him.” Fedyor laughed. “The other man, that is. Heart attack seems perfectly appropriate in those circumstances.”

“That, I’m sure, could be arranged.” They both laughed. Better to fantasize about the tracker’s death than let his pain, loss, stress, and worry consume him.

The creak of someone in the hall pulled Aleksander’s attention. Ivan was guarding Alina and the tracker. With Fedyor with him, he wasn't sure who else might come to his chambers so late in the night. Just as he was signaling the danger to Fedyor, she appeared in the doorway and instantly took his breath away.

“Alina …” He hadn't expected to see her this evening, certainly not so late. What could it mean? Was she there to tell him off some more? To announce her plans with the tracker? The thought made him feel ill.

Her eyes took in the state of the office--empty bottles of kvas everywhere, a very drunk Fedyor jumping to greet her then stumbling back. “Okay, what is this?” She laughed as she tried to help Fedyor back to his chair. “I have to know what is happening here.”

Ivan appeared right behind her shoulder, only steps behind. “It appears General Kirigan is trying to get my husband drunk.”

“Or am I trying to get General Kirigan drunk so he stops stressing about what Alina is doing?” Fedyor slurred a few of the words. He flashed a big smile as he tapped his head as if he had this brilliant idea no one else had thought of.

“Sir, do you want me to stay with her or return to the tracker?” Ivan checked.

“Oh this is ridiculous!” Alina interrupted before he could even think it through. “Mal has been asleep for hours, he's not hurting anyone, and we don't need a babysitter. Let Ivan get Fedyor to bed to sleep this off. He is going to need it.”

She knew he never allowed her without a guard. Did that mean she was staying? He couldn't let his heart hope. He tried to read her intent before he finally turned to Ivan and nodded his approval. Ivan had to half carry Fedyor out the door.

“I didn't expect to see you tonight,” he whispered once they were alone.

“It's your turn to sleep,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You would still …?”

“Were the nightmares fake?”

He shook his head slightly to say no even as the shame of his weakness flooded over him. He wasn't sure how he could even fake something like that. “You know now what drives them.”

“And I really make them better?”

He gave a sharp nod. Her warmth was the only thing that kept them at bay.

“Then I'm here.”

“What does the tracker think of that?” He should hold his tongue, accept what she was offering, but he couldn't help wondering if she had been with him. Surely Ivan would have mentioned it if the tracker got her heart racing. Had his lips been on her? She was Aleksander’s soulmate, and she had spent the start of the night with another man.

“Mostly he thinks I should cut your head off in your sleep. I'm working on discouraging that.”

She wouldn’t. He knew that. She clearly meant it as a joke. “Do you love him?” The words were out before he could stop himself. The kvas was loosening his tongue, he realized. He knew better than to ask questions he didn’t want to hear the answer to.

She was taken aback. “He is my … home, family, support … comfort.” She was struggling to describe it.

There were a lot of words missing there, important words--passion, happiness, love, partner. Didn’t she notice that? “He makes you think that you are not enough, but you are. He holds you back, and you let him.”

She sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight about Mal. Maybe you need to sleep this off too.”

He wanted to push, to make her realize how wrong the boy had always been for her, how he had hurt her, held her back, likely without ever even intending to. But he also didn’t want to irritate her and didn’t want her to leave. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Come on, let’s get you to sleep. A few hours at least, and then you can fetch Ivan to guard me again.”

It felt awkward somehow undressing in front of her now, but he certainly wasn’t sleeping in his kefta and leather. He turned his back as he removed them, but secretly, he hoped she was looking, remembering what they had, longing for it. He didn’t dare turn to glance behind his back to know, though. He feared if she was turned away, if she was repulsed by him now that she knew who he was, it would crush him. With his black sleeping robes on, he gave her warning before looking up. “Okay, I’m ready.”

She climbed into bed and motioned for him to join. It was almost as it had been before, except that everything important wasn’t. She didn’t trust him. He wasn’t sure if she even still loved him. Their bodies were the same, but he did not feel the same comfort in her as he pulled her to his chest. They were going through some of the motions to get him to sleep, but nothing was the same. There would be no sex. Tears filled his eyes as he truly realized all he had lost the moment she found out his true identity, not just the orgasm he would not have, but the intimacy with her, the connection with someone who could be a true partner, even the comfort of acceptance. She could turn on her warmth, but would it do the same thing if she was full of hostility towards him?

“Alina? I am sorry. And I love you.” Maybe it didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything at all, but he wanted her to know.

“I know,” she said and then softly leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I can feel that. I’m trying to figure out with you how to tell when something is real. Baghra made me doubt … everything. Your isolating me from Mal made me question all of your motives. But if I pay attention to our bond, I’m starting to be able to tell if you’re being genuine. So, we start over here, with my getting to know the real you and deciding what I think of the actual Aleksander. I’m working on forgiving you.”

He closed his eyes and thought through all of that. She hadn’t mentioned the Fold or being the Black Heretic again. Maybe she could, if not forgive, at least understand how that happened now. Perhaps she could accept who he was. Was that even possible? She was angry he had lied. She felt he had tried to isolate her. He supposed he had, but not truly isolated; he had encouraged the friendships with Nadia and poor Marie and Genya. He had tried to isolate her from her past so she could move on to her future, to shed the things that held her back. If the letters to Mal hadn’t been so self-depreciating, apologetic for being Grisha, perhaps he might have permitted a visit earlier. She felt betrayed because he had lied, kept things from her, and manipulated her. He couldn’t exactly deny that, but he had tried to manipulate her to accept herself, to be happy. It was clear, though, she did not appreciate being treated that way.

“I’m trying to be better for you,” he whispered. He knew he could never deserve her. He had made too many mistakes, done too many dark things, and was truly filled with darkness himself. And she was light. The tears that had been filling his eyes finally slipped out as the guilt of all of his mistakes weighed heavily on his heart. “You make me want to be better.”

“Aleksander …” she whispered, her voice full of worry. Because of their bond, she could likely feel the pain in him, all the regret. She looked up at him and reached to brush the tears away. “I know you are. I can feel it. I appreciate it.”

She pressed her forehead to his and just sat there, breathing with him, letting the power flow and call between them, bringing all the emotions back and forth for a while. She was confused, but she cared. Deep in there was this tiny thread of hope.

He wanted to make her happy again. He had made her happy once, hadn’t he? All those smiles and laughs. He could do it again if she was willing to give him a chance. He would try his best to be what she needed. Full honesty and openness were not things he was good at. His entire life he had been forced to lie to everyone out of necessity, for survival. But he would try for her. He would do anything to bring that lightness back to her heart. “I’ll be better. I’ll make you smile again.”

She shifted their bodies and pulled him to her chest for a change. The slow beating of her heart calmed him as she ran her fingers steadily through his hair. “Shh, shh, shh. No more worries tonight. Go to sleep. Just go to sleep. I’m here. Just rest.”

She’d chosen to be with him and not the tracker. She was here. It was all that mattered. Together, they could do anything.

#aleksander x alina #kirigan x alina #alina x aleksander #alina x kirigan #aleksander morovoza #alina x darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #the darkling #darklina

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supraveng · 4 years

Text

Silence - part 2

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Tony Stark x waitress

Words: 1550

Warning: angst, cheating Tony, sad angry reader

Sequel to Silence

A/N: I wanted more angst but with a happy ending, hope you like it

@photography-to-all @ just-dreaming-marvel-2 @ winchester-wifey @ justa-traaash @ vesta-ro @ mostly-marvel-musings

The weekend flew by in a blur and before you knew it, it was Monday morning and you were back at the Tower, debating with yourself if you should head into work like every other day or request an immediate leave of absence. The med bay could run without you for a few weeks til you figured out what the hell you were going to do next. But that wasn’t you!

You worked too damn hard in your career to run away from a job you loved. Walking through the lobby and heading to the elevators, you were pleasantly surprised that FRIDAY took you straight to med bay just like every other day for the past 2 years. You breathed a sigh of relief as you exited the elevator and headed toward your office, but that relief was abruptly shattered when you walked in to find Tony waiting for you.

“You’re here” he whispered, almost as if he wasn’t sure you were real. That’s when your anger resurfaced and you just couldn’t hold back.

“Last I checked I still work here” you raised your eyebrows at him “but then again, I’m kept in the dark around here more than i realized, so maybe I should check with HR?”

“No, no, you are still the head of medical, nothing has changed” he stated, trying to reassure you. “Can we talk?”

“I know I can, can you?” you fumed. “Last I checked, you didn’t answer my questions, so I’m not sure what I could possibly talk to you about”

“I deserved that, and you deserve an explanation” he countered and motioned for you to join him at the small table in your office.

You reluctantly sit across from him at the table and stare into this beautiful brown eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, which worried you, but you couldn’t let your emotions show. You needed to protect yourself.

“Ok, I know the waitress at the restaurant. We met two months ago” he cleared his throat as he continued. “She approached me, stating she had information I would not want to get leaked to the press” his eyes met mine and he looked so ashamed that I wanted to hug him but I had to stand my ground. “Her name is Samantha, but I call her Sam” he states and that’s when it hits you. He’s been meeting with Sam regularly in the last few months, even texting at all times of the day, but you assumed it was Wilson.

“So do you call her Sam so that I wouldn’t question you further or did she ask you to call her that?” you almost snarl at him.

“That is the name she asked me to call her, I had no intention of keeping this a secret from you, but I didn’t know how to tell you what was going on and I needed to figure things out first” he defended but you just scoffed.

“Figure things out? You and I have been together for over a year, we’ve been living together for months, what is there to figure out? You found someone prettier and younger so you made your choice. The interaction at the restaurant certainly didn’t look like someone trying to blackmail you, so don’t insult me with that excuse.” you were fuming now, feeling like he was trying to weasel his way out of this with more lies was infuriating.

“No, that’s not it! Please let me explain” he begged

All you could do was roll your eyes in a huff as you sat back in your chair. Arms crossed you gestured him to continue.

“I asked Happy to do a thorough background check on her before agreeing to meet with her. That took a few days because I wanted to know everything about her and the possibility of what she might have before making contact. You have to understand, these types of threats happen all the time, but there was something about her that was different. She knew things that no one knows” he told you earnestly.

“Great more lies!” you replied sarcastically “how many skeletons are in that closet of yours anyway?”

“Honey please…” but you cut him off.

“Don’t call me that, right now, I am not your honey or sweetie. I am only your employee and I’m trying to get an answer to my question I asked you 3 days ago, but just getting more excuses” sighing you were about to leave the room. This was too much, you knew now that he’s been lying and why stop there, he had an entire weekend to orchestrate this new web of deceit.

“I’m sorry, I know you want to know how I know her, and I’m trying to tell you and make you understand this mess I’ve made and why it happened” he hung his head breathing deeply before looking up again.

“Happy found out a lot about her, the most important part being that I knew her mother ages ago, so any incriminating evidence she might have on me could be legitimate”

“Ok, so you were scared? I get that, I do. But we are a team Tony, at least I thought we were, but hiding anything from me, it just makes me wonder if you are as committed to me as I am to you. And for obvious reasons” you choke out. Trying to remain strong and brave while your heart was breaking became impossible.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I love you” he whispered

Shaking your head at him “So what is the big news? There’s obviously something more than knowing her mother”

“There is, I agreed to meet with her, so I invited her here to the tower for dinner” he stated looking at you cautiously

“What? When?” you were confused as how this woman had come here, to your home, right under your nose and you had no idea.

“When you went to visit your sister”

“Oh……..so i’m out of town visiting my sister in the hospital and you decided that was a good time to bring her here, to our home?” you question

“It’s not like that, I wasn’t sneaking around, it just happened to be a coincidence” he sighed. At this point you could cut the tension in the room with a spoon. He was trying his best to remain that perfect facade he has created for himself, while your world is crumbling around you with nowhere to go.

You took a deep breath “Ok, then tell me. Tell me what’s going on”

“She came for dinner and we chatted for a few minutes before I had to ask her why she contacted me. That’s when she pulled out a file full of papers and handed them to me” It wasn’t until he was sliding the folder across the table to me that you realized all of your questions had been sitting there in front of you this whole time. Your hands were shaking when you opened the folder, sifting through the documents you looked at Tony with tears in your eyes.

“Why have you been hiding this from me for 2 months?” you asked

“I honestly don’t know, I’ve never been so scared of anything in my life. This was not what I was expecting. But I honestly didn’t know what to expect. What I do know is that you are the love of my life and I don’t want stupid shit I did 25 years ago to ruin us. But apparently I did that all on my own.” he responds as he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“I’m not mad but I’m hurt that you kept this from me, you obviously don’t trust me” you sniffle as you look up at him.

“That’s not true, I trust you with my life and I know I should have told you. I was trying to figure out how and then she was at the restaurant, I didn’t know she worked there, I was in shock that we ran into her and I was a little worried that she might say something. I spent the whole way home trying to decide how to explain to you who she was and before I could even open my mouth you were gone. I was worried about you so I sent Happy to go get you and bring you back so I can explain but you didn’t come back. I called you all weekend, I left probably 50 voicemails telling you I was sorry and needed to explain. I didn’t expect to see you here today and I’m so glad you are here, I missed you so much. And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you” he tells you with tears streaming down his face.

“We need to do something else first, this file is missing an important piece of information” you tell him while taking deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“I know, and the only reason it’s not there is because you are the only person I trust to do this” he tells you with a sad smile.

“Well, then, we should fix that. Call Sam and invite her over. Let’s find out if she really is your daughter” you smile back

#tony stark x reader #mcu fanfiction #tony stark angst #reader insert #tony stark #avengers fanfiction #avengers angst #avengers au #mcu au #avengers x reader #tony stark x you

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neverbloom-again · 4 years

Text

Chosen (for all the wrong reasons)

A Hotch/Reid fic crossposted from my ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649229)

Aaron knew it wasn’t necessarily rational. He knew exactly why Spencer had picked him, he knew why it was him who his lover named to be killed. He knew it was a message, in reality, he truly knew it, and understood it loud and clear. But no matter how well he knew this, he couldn’t help the voice in the back of his mind that screamed that he wasn’t picked because he would understand what Reid wanted to say. He couldn’t help but let the dark depths of his mind wander to places he never wished to reach, where the only thoughts were that he wasn’t good enough, that he wasn’t wanted, and the words resounding through his head, overpowering all other thoughts, were that maybe, he wasn’t ever really loved by anyone.

The moment Spencer said his name, his heart shattered into thousands of tiny little pieces. Hotch was sure that if anyone had been looking at his face at that one moment in time, their relationship would become clear as day, and the whole team would have seen, and to a certain extent, understood, the heartbreak he felt. But he quickly fixed his expression, covering up any evidence that his straight-faced facade had ever broken.

Even when Reid called him a narcissist, he didn’t understand why his name was said, not at first. It took him a few moments to work it out, realising it only because it seemed so strange for Spencer to say that. His partner was normally reassuring him that his faults didn’t matter, not pointing them out for everyone to see. And narcissism seemed a strange thing to pick out of all of the plentiful choices he had, because he didn’t really fit either of the definitions they had discussed - and that was when it had hit him, and he quickly continued on with the case, concern at the forefront of his mind.

The team found Spencer, and he was safe, thank god, even if he was bruised and beaten, and had so many mental scars. It pained him to see his lover so clearly struggling with the drugs, struggling to resist the urge to continue using, and the thoughts he was trying to keep at bay stayed away, for a while anyway, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. By the time Spencer was finishing his physical recovery, he could no longer keep the thoughts at bay.

He felt guilty, spending his time dwelling on these useless thoughts when really, he came out of the situation unharmed, objectively, but especially when compared to his partner, who came out with so many unbelievable mental and physical scars. Hotch knew he was weak for feeling this way, he was so keenly aware that he should be being strong, and not let his childish emotions get the best of him. His father made sure he knew from a young age that he was weak in this way, however, so how could he expect anything better from himself?

So, in his very typical way, Aaron held his feelings close to his chest, not revealing anything, not even to those closest to him. He kept his face blank and tried to keep his feelings from clouding his actions. He wasn’t angry, just… disappointed. He thought he had found someone who loved him, and theoretically, he still somewhat understood he did. In practice, seeing that was much harder. Regardless of his best efforts, he began to withdraw from the world around him, in his head so much more than he normally would be. He avoided Reid whenever he could because he wished that maybe if he stayed further away, he could either make Spencer like him more, as he wouldn’t see all of his flaws, or at least let the relationship slowly break naturally, so that the heartbreak might come slowly, and his heart wouldn’t shatter again.

Of course, this was a terrible plan, as despite his personal struggles and general inability to understand social situations, Spencer Reid was not an idiot. He could see that something was wrong with his partner, even if he had no clue what. He noticed Aaron’s constant distance, and the way he would do anything to help him, but never do anything for himself. He didn’t understand what had happened, or if it was something he had done or said.

“Boy Genius! To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you on this fine day?” Garcia said joyfully.

“Garcia, I need your help with something,” he began, “Well more accurately your advice… On a, well a personal matter.”

“Oh wow! Okay, what can I do for you then?” She almost dropped the phone in shock, not expecting that at all from the young man. “Is it about a special someone? Do you have a date?”

“Err… Well, I guess in a way. If I tell you, you need to not tell the team. Like not at all, not even Morgan can know.”

“Top secret! This is exciting! Now let the Goddess of Love know what is going on.”

Spencer was almost shaking. They hadn’t told anyone on the team, the only people that knew were his mother, Sean, and a few of Aaron’s old friends. They knew what repercussions it could have on the team, interpersonally and professionally.

“It’s Aaron. We have been dating for a while, and I am kind of worried about him because I can tell something is wrong, but he won’t talk to me, and I have no experience in these situations, and did you know that over 70%-”

“Hey, Spence, slow down there buddy!” She cut him off before he could fully begin to ramble. “So you and Boss-Man got together? That's pretty cool. You are definitely telling me all about that later, but for now, what's wrong with our mighty captain?”

“That’s the issue. I have no idea. He keeps avoiding me and he looks really sad and distant, but I don’t know what I’ve done!” Spencer was slowly getting more and more stressed and his agitation grew at his confusion.

“Calm down, I’m here to help. When did this start?” “I’m not really sure… He has seemed weird ever since… well you know, but it only got bad a few weeks after, and it keeps getting worse and worse and I am really worried about him. He hasn’t struggled this much since Haley left with Jack.”

Penelope was shaking her head, partly out of worry, for both of her boys, but also fond exasperation. For all that both of them were extremely intelligent and competent, they were absolutely useless with emotions.

“Spencer, I think you really need to talk to Hotch about this. Hankel was hard for you, and the aftermath certainly has been too, and he has probably been so worried about you being okay that he has forgotten to think about how he feels. Now before you go all self-deprecating and thinking this is all your fault, it’s not. You just need to have a good, healthy, slightly overdue emotional talk.”

“Thanks, Garcia. You are the best. And please, don’t-”

“Tell anyone, yeah, I got it. And I know. Good luck with the boss!”

Spencer placed his head in his hands after Penelope hung up the phone. Neither he nor Aaron were particularly good at emotional talks, in fact, both generally aimed to avoid them like the plague. But their relationship was on the line, and he would face anything to defend that.

So he picked up his phone, and quickly texted Aaron, letting him know that he would be coming over that evening, and bringing dinner, because they had to talk.

When Hotch got a text from Spencer ending in “we need to talk,” his mind went into overdrive. This was the end, the relationship was as good as done now. It hurt, more than he wanted to admit, given he knew it was most likely only a matter of time before Spencer left him, since he didn’t really love him, not as much as he loved his best friends on the team, or even Prentiss, the new agent who he barely knew.

He checked the time. He had an hour before it all ended, before his whole world collapsed. That meant just over an hour before Spencer would leave him breaking down, before everything they had turned back into a “just colleagues” relationship. It was strange. Hotch had expected the prior knowledge that it was coming to make it hurt less, but it was just as hard as finding Haley in bed with another man. Maybe it would have hurt less if this time it wasn’t his fault. But it was. Once is a fluke - his family couldn't love him. Twice is a coincidence - he wasn’t enough for his wife and his son. Three times, well that has to be a pattern.

Aaron washed his face, freshened up, and sat down at the table, staring at the clock as the time ticked on by. 60 minutes. 50 minutes. 40 minutes. 30 minutes. 20, 15, 10, 5. Just before the clock was about to change, to hit the impending time, a soft knock on the door pulled him away. It was here, It was the end.

To say that Spencer was stressed would have to be the understatement of the year. His palms were sweating, and his mind was racing with thoughts about absolutely everything. What if the whole issue was that he wasn’t good enough, or didn’t pay Aaron enough attention, or-- He was pulled out of his head by the door opening, showing his partner looking more fragile, more frightened than he had ever been, staring down the barrel of a gun or waiting for a bomb to explode.

“Hey, Aaron, are you okay?” Spencer asked, cautiously, as he made his way into the house. Hotch straightened his face and tensed up.

“Yes Reid, I am fine. What did you want to talk about?” Keeping it together was killing the older man, as he was just ready to breakdown as a result of all the pent up emotions.

“I wanted to check in on you, because you have seemed… off, for lack of a better word, for the last few weeks. You have been avoiding me, and you have seemed distant and sad. I love you, but you need to tell me how you are feeling. I could profile you, but I can’t read your mind.”

Every second that passed was a monumental challenge for Aaron, and he was so, so tired of keeping secrets, of hiding how he felt. But he also knew if he told Spencer, he would blame himself, and it was no one’s fault but his, for being so unloveable.

“I’m fine. I’m sure you heard me the first time, so if that is all you have to say, you can go.”

“Aaron! I’m not leaving until you stop lying to me. I am not letting the best relationship I have ever had fall apart because we can’t talk to one another. I love you! Nothing will change that, so just tell me what is going on!”

It was weird for Hotch to see Spencer like this. He barely raised his voice in general, let alone at Aaron. Between that, and hearing him say that he loved him, he broke. He could no longer hold back all that he had been feeling.

“But do you love me, Spencer? You spend all this time telling me that it is true and that all my numerous flaws don’t bother you, but when push comes to shove, when you have to make a choice, you don’t really care for me. No one does.”

He regrets saying it as soon as the words leave his mouth. It was the wrong thing to say, without a doubt, and now Aaron has just ruined any chances of Spencer still wanting anything to do with him.

Spencer felt ashamed of himself. He claims to be a genius, and yet he missed what was right in front of him this whole time. Of course, given his past, everything that happened with Hankel, choosing Aaron to be killed would cause him problems. Suddenly the whole situation made so much more sense.

“Aaron, my love,” He began, “You know I love you. I love your flaws, your perfections, and every single thing that makes you the incredible person you are. Everything that happened with… him, all I was trying to do was get back to you safely. I didn’t pick you because I care about you less, instead, it was because I trust you so much. I knew you would get my message and save me.”

The two men wandered over to the couch, and Aaron lay on Spencer, turning his head to look him in the eyes.

“I’m so so sorry,” he softly cried, “I should be stronger than this. You are the one who was hurt, not me. I’m sorry I am so weak. I’ll try to change. I’ll be better. I’ll be perfect for you!”

Spencer slowly and soothingly talked to Aaron. “You don’t have to change or be stronger. You are the best man I know. You would do anything for me, for the team, for Jack. Anyone who tells you anything else is someone you should ignore.”

As they lay there on that couch, enjoying the soft silence and each other’s company, they internally reflected on all that had happened. If nothing else, this had just proven the strength of their relationship and allowed them to continue to grow.

(Also, Spencer thought, he really needs to get Garcia the greatest gift he can. Maybe a date with a certain blonde media liaison she was most definitely into? He should probably also let Hotch know that Garcia knows. He will probably not be too impressed by that.)

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saveyourblood · 4 years

Text

Prodigy | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: “I find it amusing that we’re all pretending to be normal when we could be insanely interesting instead.” – Atlas.

The one where you're a prodigy, so is he, and he's the only person alive who makes you feel normal.

Notes: IT TOOK ME 20 MINUTES FIGURING OUT HOW TO UPLOAD THAT GIF YALL BETTER APPRECIATE IT I- This is actually an idea I originally had for a screenplay (kind of a modern ‘Doogie Howser’ gender-swap thing), but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how well it would work as a Spencer Reid x Reader fic. So, if you like it, PLEASE, let me know, because otherwise, I'll probably just scrap this entire thing lol.

Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: none I can think of.

Song: Birthday - Gia Margaret

You were out shopping with your friends, like most normal teenagers did on the weekend. You and Idol hit up a few clothing outlets, dragging Jax along.

“Can’t we go somewhere we all like?” Jax whined.

Idol’s arms were already covered with bags. You, on the other hand, had two with only a few items.

Idol turned to Jax, a blank look on her face. “You mean something you like?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms.

She sighed. “Look, we’ve been over this: the first half, I get to do all of the girly things with Y/N. Then, you get to do all the nerdy stuff with her.”

“You guys divvy up the time you spend with me?” you asked, laughing to yourself.

“We have to!” Idol defended.

“You’re so busy with work, we go weeks without hanging out as a team,” Jax agreed. “Hanging out with Idol all the time is boring.”

Idol punched him in the arm.

“I’m sorry, guys, but believe me, I feel the same way,” you said. “Everything’s just been… crazy. Someone just quit, and we’ve been busier than usual. I’m lucky I got these two days in a row off.”

“Speaking of which…” Idol said, linking her arm with yours. “We need to find you a dress for homecoming.”

Jax groaned.

“How about I work on finding a date first,” you chuckled.

“No, no dates! We’re going as a group,” Idol scolded.

You were about to make a witty remark when someone called out.

“Help! We need help!” A frantic woman shouted.

You dropped your bags and started running.

Eventually, you found a bunch of people standing around in a circle. Some had their phones out, others looked around, like Superman would appear out of thin air. You were no Superman, but in some ways, to some people, you were a hero.

You made your way through the crowd, unafraid to shove people aside. Some people made noises or remarks, but mostly, they let you move past. Breathless, you mangled your way to the center of attention.

“Please, please,” a woman sobbed on a man’s chest. He was completely unconscious, laying flat on the food court floor.

“Everyone, back up!” you instructed. “Someone get an AED!”

You knelt beside the man, pressing two fingers to his neck. While you felt for a pulse, you also monitored his chest for breathing. Then, you looked up to his wife. “Please, ma’am, give me some space. I need to start compressions.”

Someone who looked like a family member pulled her aside. Using one hand to stabilize the other, you began pressing two inches deep in the center of his chest. Your movements were fast, and the power behind them came from your entire upper body.

“Who are you?” The wife asked between cries.

“Damn AED is taking too long,” you muttered under your breath.

You stood back, raising a fist about a foot above the man’s chest. Then, in a swift motion, you brought your fist downwards, striking him in the lower third of his sternum.

With a gasp and a cough, the man jolted back into consciousness like he was startled during a deep sleep. “What happened? Where am I?”

You laughed with glee. “You’re in the Pallor Heights Mall; your heart stopped. Clearly, it’s working now.”

A frightened employee stumbled through the crowd, clutching the AED like it was a lifeline.

“We don’t need that anymore,” you said casually. “But, if you could call an ambulance, that’d be great.”

“Who the hell is this girl?” someone in the back of the crowd said.

“She’s our best friend,” Idol said proudly, “the teenage MD.”

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“I want an ECG, CBC, and an angiogram done yesterday,” you said as the patient was rolled into the ER. “His heart needs to be monitored at all times.”

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” the head of ER, Dr. Cabello, asked.

“Hubert Riaz, 52-year-old male with no previous known heart conditions collapsed at the mall,” you explained.

Cabello pulled you aside. “And you were at the mall because…”

“...because it’s my day off?” you finished. “Look, Cabello, I’d love to chat, but there are some tests I should be running.”

“Actually, you should be at the mall, or at home,” he corrected. “You know why?”

“Because it’s my day off,” you grumbled.

“Go home, Y/N, before you have to stay,” he instructed, before following the paramedics as they rolled Mr. Riaz away.

Before you could do anything, Mrs. Riaz pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she cried before going to join her husband.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, but she was already gone. That didn’t stop you from smiling.

You looked up to find a familiar face. “Dad!” you called out, jogging to catch up with him. “What are you doing in the ER?”

“What are you doing in the hospital?” He frowned, looking at a chart.

Eli Abner — the best Cardiac surgeon on the East Coast, maybe the entire country. He also happened to be your father. In a weird way, you balanced each other out: he was famous in the world of medicine, you were famous in every other world. People didn’t stop him on the street to ask him about his high school and college career. You couldn’t say the same.

“I asked you first,” you said.

“I was called down for a consult, 50-something male collapsed in the mall,” he recalled. “Your turn.”

You couldn’t fight the grin on your face. “Guess who revived him?”

He raised his eyebrows. “AED?”

“Precordial Thump,” you corrected.

His face morphed back into a frown; it was his default expression. “Percussion Pacing isn’t recommended for out-of-hospital use.”

“How about: ‘Good job, Y/N! You saved a life today, Y/N!’” you said.

As if on cue, Idol and Jax entered the ER.

“Dr. Abner!” Jax called with a smile. She was of course referring to your father — you couldn’t remember the last time someone at the hospital called you that.

“Hello, Jax,” he said, formal as always. “Idol. It’s good to see you both.”

“Sir, could you please tell your wonderful daughter that she’s not supposed to be here on her days off?” Idol asked.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Eli repeated. “Go, enjoy your time off.”

A few hours later, and you were confident your two best friends wished they left you at the hospital.

Rather than going back to the mall, you opted to just go home. Apparently, Jax and Idol weren’t bored of you yet, so they followed you upstairs to your room. Unfortunately for them, you saw this as the perfect opportunity to rant.

“What the fuck is wrong with those two?!” you shouted, pacing across your bedroom. “It’s like they wanted me to go away.”

“They want you to have a life outside of your job,” Idol said. She was laying on your bed, propping up her head with one arm. “Is that really such a crime, Y/N?”

“It’s like they don’t want me to be a doctor,” you corrected. “Cabello couldn’t wait to just swoop in and get the poor guy away from me. Not to mention, he didn’t even call me ‘doctor’ — he said ‘Y/N’, like I’m his kid. Oh, and don’t even get me started on my father!”

“I won’t,” Jax said, playing with a model skull that sat on your desk.

“He didn’t say anything good about what I did. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I saved a guy in a mall food court, and my he criticizes my method,” you continued, ignoring Jax’s remark. “God, what a dick! Both of them! Both of them are dicks.”

Idol sat up with a sigh. “You know what you have to do, right?”

“If you say ‘let it go’, I swear to god, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

“You’re a doctor: you should know girls don’t have nuts. Oh, also: you’re a doctor!” She said. “And you’re 17. They feel threatened, Y/N. That’s why they don’t give you any credit! They’re amazing doctors, but they’ll never be amazing teen doctors. Not like you could be.”

“Alright, genius,” you said. “What do I do?”

“For being a prodigy, you can be really dumb sometimes,” Idol groaned. “You be amazing.”

“Wow, thanks for that, Idol,” you said sarcastically. “Thanks for enlightening me. I feel so much better.”

“You didn’t let me finish, bitch,” she said, standing up. “You have to be amazing, and you can’t be afraid to talk about it.”

“You want me to brag about my accomplishments?”

“You’re a good doctor, right?” She asked.

You nodded. “I like to think so, yeah.”

“Then make them know you know,” Idol said. “They only push you over because you let them. Don’t.”

You leaned over to look at Jax. “Do you know what the hell she’s talking about?”

“Treat others how you’d like to be treated,” he summarized. “When Cabello and your dad are being dicks, be dicks back.”

“Good advice. Thanks, Jax.”

“Wow, if only I had thought of that!” Idol said sarcastically before flopping into your bed in exasperation.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

You flipped through a few records in your favorite Vinyl shop, The Rusty Spoon. They sold new and secondhand records, all of which you loved dearly. You mostly bought new ones, as your favorite artists were more modern, but you liked to look through and occasionally purchase the classics. You had yet to buy a damaged record, as the store provided a turntable at the register to try any second hand vinyls.

As you thumbed through the discounted albums, you found a cover that was an elegant shade of red. The top corners had intricate golden designs. A thin line of the same color stretched the width of the cover. You pulled it up from the rack to get a good look. An oil painting of a familiar face decorated the front. In a fine, cursive font read ‘The Best of Beethoven’. After a moment of consideration, you tucked it into the crook of your arm, which already held 3 records.

“You listen to Beethoven?” A gentle, curious voice asked from beside you.

You looked over quickly, not realizing someone was next to you. Your eyes trailed upwards to meet the gaze of a young man — he couldn’t be older than 25. His hair was straight and tucked behind his ears, which propped up the frames of his dark glasses. His jawline was square, and his body was scrawny. He had the strap of a bag across his chest, which was covered by a red sweater vest.

His eyes widened, and he took a step back, raising his hands. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he stuttered out. “My name’s Spencer. I’m sorry.”

You chuckled softly at the idea that he could come off as threatening in any way. You also laughed because he looked cute when he was frazzled.

“It’s okay,” you promised, then offered him your hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

He rubbed his hands on his pants nervously.

Without a second thought, you lowered your hand. “I get it — hands are kind of disgusting. It’s actually safer to kiss a stranger than shake their hand, ya know, considering the pathogens,” you said without thinking. You closed your eyes and laughed in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I actually said that.”

“That’s why I don’t shake hands, actually,” Spencer responded. “Most people don’t understand.”

“It’s a biology class you never forget,” you joked.

“Biology? You must be smart,” he remarked kindly. “What are you going to school for?”

“I want to be a doctor,” you replied after a moment. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t something you wanted to keep talking about, either. Once people learned you were a child prodigy, it was like they forgot how to speak. “What about you? Are you still going to school?”

“I have a doctorate in Mathematics,” he replied.

You raised your eyebrows. “Wow. You don’t look old enough to have a doctorate.”

“I was in an advanced program,” Spencer responded.

You knew a thing or two about that.

His eyes drifted to the albums in the crook of your arm. “You listen to Beethoven?” He repeated.

You chuckled, somewhat nervously. “Is that so unbelievable?”

“No! No, I uh, I think it’s great,” Spencer assured, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s a fantastic composer, one of history’s finest.”

You nodded. “I’m sure Für Elise will be on here, but I’ve heard good things about Symphony No. 9.”

Spencer smiled, revealing a set of straight, white teeth. Somehow, they made him look even more charming. “It ends with the chorus to Friedrich Schiller’s ‘An Die Freude’ poem.”

While having a photographic memory made you remember far more than the average person, sometimes, it felt like all the information in your head — useful and not — got muddled together. When it came to passive facts, it sometimes took you a moment to recall. But, when you did, your eyes lit up and you smiled uncontrollably.

“Ode to Joy!” you exclaimed in realization. “Wow, that’s so cool.”

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. You fished it out, glancing at the notification. You got a text from your father, reading ‘When will you be home?’.

“I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Spencer asked genuinely.

You put your phone back in your pocket and smiled. “There’s a coffee shop down the street. Can I buy you a drink?”

Spencer smiled.

Sitting in a coffee shop, laughing with a man you barely knew, sipping a latte that was impossible to make yourself… it was the closest you ever felt to being normal.

The two of you talked about everything and nothing. You asked Spencer if he lived in town, he said he was in New York on work. He asked if you had a job, you said you worked at a hospital in the city. He assumed you were an ER technician or a CNA, you didn’t deny. You knew you should feel guilty for lying to the poor guy, but in the grand scheme of the conversation, it didn’t seem to matter. You were able to talk to him freely and easily, and it wasn’t just about your degree or how you completed high school in the span of 2 months.

By the time you looked down at your watch, you realized hours had passed. A waitress had kindly swapped the two of you out for plain, black coffee, and she regularly made her rounds to refill your mugs.

“It’s already 3 o’clock,” you said in shock, looking at your watch. “I promised my friends I would meet them for dinner.”

“I should get going too,” Spencer agreed, somewhat sadly. “Work never does itself.”

You threw down a twenty dollar bill, knowing it was enough to cover the bill plus a tip. Still, Spencer reached for his wallet.

“You said you live in DC, right Spencer?” You asked.

He nodded.

“You’ll pay next time, then,” you said with a smile.

You weren’t sure what made you feel so bold all of a sudden, but clearly, it was working. Spencer grinned and looked down before nodding.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Where were you?” Your father asked the moment you got through the door.

You slung your backpack onto the couch. He didn’t even bother to look up from his laptop as he spoke to you.

“I was out,” you replied simply. “Idol, Jax and I ate dinner together.”

“You said you’d be back from shopping at 3,” he retorted. He wore his glasses on the tip of his nose as he observed the screen sitting in his lap. Your father was by no means an ugly man, but the manner made him appear older.

You shrugged. “Plans change. Public transportation is unreliable on a good day.”

Your dad finally looked up for the first time in the conversation. He observed the gift bag in your hand. “What’s that?”

“A little something from Jax and Idol,” you replied. “They saw it and thought of me.”

“That’s nice of them,” he said before getting back to his work.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “really nice.”

“What’s that, dear?” Your father asked as you walked up the stairs.

“I said I’ll be in my room if you need me!” you lied.

Of course it was nice to get a gift from your best friends. However, it was even nicer to get one from your sole parent. Hell, you’d even accept some acknowledgment.

All you wanted on your 18th birthday was to be seen, and your dad couldn’t even seem to do that.

Once you closed the door to your bedroom, the tears began to flow. In anger, you picked up the ‘anatomically correct’ gummy bear figurine you got last year on your birthday. The clear case was obviously that of a gummy bear, but on the inside was a skeleton and colored organs. It was equally creepy as it was cute. You loved it.

But, in a moment of rage, you picked it up and threw it on the floor. The case popped open and the pieces split apart. The skeleton dismembered, the organs shifted from their place to the floor. You joined them there, curling up into a ball as you sobbed quietly.

You’d put the pieces back tomorrow. You’d do the same with yourself.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

“Pediatrics wants you back on their floor,” Cabello remarked.

The two of you stood at the front desk, reviewing a few charts. Hospital staff, paramedics, and strangers swirled around you — there was never a dull moment at Carabine Memorial’s ER.

“Everyone wants me,” you said back, flipping to the next page.

Cabello was silent for a moment, which wasn’t his normal behavior. He always seemed to have a reply or a retort of some kind. You smirked in success. Maybe your friends’ advice could get you somewhere.

“Your Senior Resident thinks you haven’t picked a specialty yet,” Cabello continued.

“I’ve been in the Emergency Department for 2 years,” you replied, closing your binder and handing it off to a nurse. You finally looked at your superior. “I don’t want to be a surgeon, I want nothing to do with palliative care or cardio, and pediatrics isn’t my strong suit. The ER makes sense for me: it’s fast, reliant on instincts, and I get to see a little bit of everything.”

“But is Emergency work what you want to do, Y/N?” Cabello asked, leaning against the counter.

“Is it what you want me to do?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “Or are you trying to get rid of me, Jason?”

He moved back in shock. “It’s Dr. Cabello,” he corrected calmly.

You took a step forward. “It’s Dr. Abner.”

Very rarely, you were grateful for a swarm of people to come through the ambulance bay doors. In that moment, however, you were. And apparently, the universe picked up on that, because it wasn’t just paramedics that stormed in — several police officers came in with them.

“Where is the department manager?” One officer called.

Cabello approached, and you followed suit.

“I’m Dr. Cabello, the Director of the Emergency Department,” Cabello declared. “What do you need, officer?”

“We believe this boy — Joshua Parker — is the second victim of a serial offender,” the officer described in a low voice. “I can discuss details later, in private, but for now, I need you to know the basics.”

“Which are?”

He glanced around briefly, before staring at you.

“She can be here,” Cabello said, surprising both you and the officer. “Aside from me, Dr. Abner will be Joshua’s primary physician as long as he’s in this department.”

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to punish you or not. Regardless, you didn’t object.

“Joshua shows signs of serious trauma and PTSD,” the officer explained. “The only way we got him into the ambulance was by sedating him. Once he wakes up, odds are, he’ll become violent again. You should prepare your staff.”

Cabello nodded, before turning to you. “Go, make yourself useful,” he instructed, “but only use whoever you have to. Don’t smother the poor boy with unnecessary nurses or aids.”

You nodded once. “Yes, sir.”

The police officer was absolutely correct: once Joshua woke up, it was almost impossible to do any work on him. He wouldn’t stop screaming, especially the words ‘let me out’, and whenever someone tried to touch him, he began to thrash around. Once another resident and a nurse managed to hold his arm down for an IV, he began biting at them. It was equally heartbreaking and scary.

After consulting with your senior Resident, you decided the only way to get any work done on Joshua was to sedate him for a second time. While it wasn’t necessarily good for him, neither was the violent behavior he exhibited when conscious. Sedation seemed like the lesser of two evils.

When Josh was unconscious, you and Cabello managed to work efficiently. You meticulously pulled at splinters buried in his skin, while Cabello dealt with several puncture wounds all over his body. Where his skin wasn’t red and blotchy, it appeared to be a faint purple color. The whites of his eyes had gone yellow and the muscles in his legs and arms were atrophied.

“Someone put this boy through hell,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Cabello snapped off his gloves, throwing them in the trashcan by the door. “I’m not assigning you any more patients this shift,” he said. “Joshua is your top priority.”

“Understood.”

Cabello nodded, then stepped out.

Joshua was asleep for at least 3 hours after his second round of medication. You spent most of that time in his room, researching ways to help him once he woke up. Eventually, Cabello came in with a distraught couple, and without saying anything, you knew they were his parents. You decided to give them some space.

“A few agents from the FBI are here,” Cabello said as the two of you walked to the front desk. “They want to talk about Joshua’s condition.”

“I can handle it,” you assured.

“They’re just down the hall. You three can talk in the conference room.”

You stuck your hands in the pockets of your scrub top, walking down the hall with a sigh. Compared to the rest of the department, it was calm; hardly anyone brushed by you, and the steady buzz of noise turned into a faint chatter the farther you walked.

When you finally looked up, you stopped dead in your tracks.

The hair, the sweater vest, the glasses… you’d recognize him anywhere. When Spencer met your gaze, it was clear he remembered you too.

In that moment, you really wished he hadn’t.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Notes: Like what you read? Let me know! Feedback seriously keeps me inspired to write <3

Want to be tagged in future parts? Shoot me an ask!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds reader insert #spencer x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer/reader #criminalminds #criminal minds x reader #prodigy #part 1 #i live for spencer in glasses #just sayin

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5hining-aus · 5 years

Text

SHINee As High School Teachers

So I got a request asking for the guys as different types of teachers and, since I’ve actually had the idea for a while (kinda convinced that the requester is a mind reader ngl) I figured that I’d start off with them as HS teachers. I had some fun with this and threw in a few little things from my own high school days as well. Enjoy!

Jinki - Chemistry Teacher

So you know all those videos that show teachers doing super cool experiments with their students? He’s one of those teachers

He’s a pretty calm teacher most of the time, but may the gods have mercy on your soul if you mess around in the lab

Lab safety is his #1 concern, like if you aren’t wearing the proper gear then you are out of there

The only time his students have ever seen him even slightly raise his voice was when the class’s resident asshole decided to pretend to pour something on their lab partner

It was a harmless solution (the more volatile stuff is reserved for his upper-level honours classes) but still, it was more the principle of the act than anything else

100% has made coffee on a Bunsen burner

Also, always has a different coffee mug, like nobody ever sees him with the same mug twice. The only exceptions are the mugs that he’s gotten as gifts from his graduating classes (which are displayed on their own little handmade rack when not in use)

He has a tradition of teaching his graduating classes how to make flamethrowers (but shh, administration doesn’t need to know that)

Another tradition (albeit, an unofficial one) is that, on the first day of class every year, he’ll trip over THE SAME FLOOR TILE. It’s not even broken or anything, yet he still trips over it

He actually has a Doctorate and could be teaching at the University-level, but he decided to teach High School so he could try to get more young people interested in the sciences. It worked and a lot of his former students who went into science-related fields attribute their decision to go into said fields to him

He almost cried when one of the students from the very first class he ever taught came to him one day and told him that they had decided to go for a PhD in Chemistry because of him. And you bet he was there cheering them on when they went in to defend their thesis

He has like almost an entire wall of his classroom that is dedicated to his current and former students’ scientific achievements

Has a reputation for being a crazy scientist, but pretty much everyone who’s ever been in his class absolutely adores him

Has a lot of weird inside jokes with his students

Always wears some type of short-sleeved button-up shirt and khakis/chinos. On lab days, he adds a white lab coat, massive safety goggles, and all other necessary protective clothing

Jonghyun - Music Teacher

His classroom is in the school basement, but he’s made it really cozy and nice

Uses beanbag chairs instead of desks like 90% of the time (loss of beanbag privileges is an actual consequence he has for students who are breaking his rules)

A lot of the Choir and Band kids like to hang out in there at lunch and he kinda just lets them do whatever they want as long as they aren’t being too rowdy or breaking school rules

CONSTANTLY grumbling over the fact that the Arts Department is always overlooked when it comes to funding

Has, on more than one occasion, used his own money to buy instruments for the class because gosh darn it, no class of his is going to be using shit-tier instruments

He treats his instruments like they’re his children, always keeps them nice and clean and tuned

Has a framed picture of Roo on his desk. His mom and sister are his computer background

Definitely one of those teachers that can get on a topic completely unrelated to his subject and spend the entire class talking about it

Always has a compliment for each of his students. Even if they’re doing horribly, he’ll have something positive to say

In addition to his classes, he’s also the faculty advisor for the School Band and the School Choir

Has attempted, multiple times, to get school approval to take his students to rock concerts for field trips. He has yet to succeed

Just like a super chill teacher

Kibum - Art Teacher

First of all, don’t call him Mr. Kim, he prefers Key or Mr. Key

Another basement dweller, he fought Jonghyun tooth and nail for the best classroom and he won

Despite his classroom being the best classroom in the basement, it’s still in the basement and gets super cold during late Fall and Winter. To combat this, he keeps a Sunggie in his supply closet at all times

Do you know that gif of the guy in a black turtleneck going “It’s art?” That’s pretty much Kibum. He has said those words and made that exact hand motion many times

One of his students actually printed out a blown-up picture of the gif and gave it to him. It’s now hanging up by his desk and he always points to it whenever someone asks why a painting is the way it is

Kibum is one of those teachers that the students either love or hate. Most of his students love him, but there’s definitely a few who hate him

His smocks are always immaculate, like how????

Wears a beret about 50% of the time. He also gives all his new students their own berets on their first day (they’re embroidered)

Literally could not give less of a shit about the school’s dress code

Like, as long as nothing’s hanging out/overly revealing and as long as there’s no inappropriate messages/images on the clothing just, like, let the students wear what they want

But noooooo, the school “has an image to uphold” so that means no tattoos, no non-earlobe piercings, no bleached or unnaturally dyed hair, and no hair over a certain length for male students

Constantly arguing with admin about the hair, tattoo, and piercing restrictions. He claims that body art is just as valid as traditional art and that the students should have the right to express themselves however they see fit

Stocks up on hair gel and concealer so his students don’t get dress coded

He’s the faculty advisor for the Drama Club and the Art Club

Like Jjong and the Band+Choir kids, the Drama and Art Club kids can typically be found in Key’s classroom during breaks

Brings CommeGa in with him the week before exams

They have little berets and smocks too

Minho - History Teacher

His class covers a bit of every culture/country’s history, but the main focus is Korean History

He gets SUPER into the unit on Ancient History. One time his students walked into class to see him decked out in traditional clothing from the Silla Dynasty, complete with hair extensions and everything

Oh, and he redecorated the whole class room to be period-accurate as well

Is just generally A Lot™ when he’s teaching

He knows that History can be a bit of a boring subject for some people so he tries to do fun things in class to try and make it interesting

He’ll give his classes the textbook-version of history, and then he’ll turn around and explain which parts were complete BS

He doesn’t sugarcoat much. Sure, he may not go too deep into the more disturbing parts of history (his students are just kids after all) but he’s very honest about what actually happened VS what the textbooks say happened

Definitely the teacher that everybody has a crush on (he obviously doesn’t condone it)

Likes to take his classes to historical villages for field trips

He’s the coach for the Soccer, Baseball, Track, Basketball, and Swim Teams as well as the faculty advisor for the Filmmaking Club

He’s a busy, busy man yet he always has time for his students

Another universally beloved teacher

Since he pretty much has the Film Club at his disposal, he’ll sometimes make short little historical films to use during his lessons

Prints out history memes and hangs them around his classroom like the nerd he is

Taemin - English Lit. Teacher

In my opinion, there are few forces in the educational system more chaotic than an English Teacher, which makes it a perfect fit for Taemin

If he had a dollar for every time he had been mistaken for a student

A little trick he likes to play on his Grade 9s is one where, on the first day of school, he’ll sit at one of the student desks and just wait for a bit until somebody asks where the teacher is. Then he’ll just be all “Surprise, welcome to English 1! I’m Mr. Lee and I’ll be your teacher!”

On the flipside, the amount of parents that don’t believe that he’s a teacher irritates him so much (he’s literally been asked for ID at Parent-Teacher Conferences)

Like, he’s fine with joking from his students, and even a bit of shock from parents is ok, but damn it, he didn’t get a Masters in Education to be treated like this

Anyway, he’ll get REALLY into it when he’s reading Shakespeare

One time, he stood on a desk and read it like that. One of his students from another class walked by, saw him, and just kinda poked their head in and was like “Mr. Lee? Are you okay?”

Jonghyun likes to bring him in when he does the piano unit in his class

Like Ming, Tae’s another nerd teacher who has found that memes are an excellent way to connect with his students

He’s co-advisor for the Drama Club along with Key

Drama, drama, drama. No drama, drama, drama

They’ve almost gotten into fistfights over the true meanings of plays

He’s also the coach for the school’s Dance Team (the school’s AWARD WINNING Dance Team, as he likes to remind people)

“Oh, your team got first place at Regionals? Talk to me when you get a National title.”

I like the idea of him driving the team around in a minivan or smth, just full on soccer-momming it

#SHINee AU #SHINee imagines #SHINee scenarios #SHINee as Teachers #SHINee As High School Teachers #SHINee #5HINee #jinki #jonghyun #kibum #minho #taemin

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foolscapper · 6 years

Text

Exploding Head Syndrome: A MCU Post-IW Fanfic | Ch. 2

(READ IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.)

Nebula is the next person Quill sees, and god is he glad to see her — something that would've been insane to think a couple of years ago, when she was murderous and... okay, well, she's still murderous, but it's not towards the Guardians. And that's a good enough bridge to make them something more, something good (he used to mentally consider her a... sister-in-law, but now the thought makes him want to shoot someone who'd deserve it in the face, because he can't think about that kind of shit right now). She lands the Benatar on Titan's uneven soil about three hours after they all wake up, which is really nice, because Quill had absolutely no plans on how to get off this shit-heap of a planet.

Nebula's not a hugger, and Quill wouldn't dare try it, but there's a relief and understanding when she steps out into the oppressive, humid air and their eyes meet.

The kid — Little Pete — is sitting beside Mantis on a smoothed piece of metal that probably used to be a chunk of ship, one of his hands sitting limply against his thigh while Dr. Strange holds the other between his scarred fingers. He's quietly trying to assess the rhythm of his heartbeat through the thin skin of his wrist; he ends up having to move to Peter's neck, because the Iron Spider suit doesn't leave room for accurate readings. The spider kid is pliable all the while, blinking lazily every ten or fifteen seconds while the good doctor is adamant about putting his PhD to use — the PhD in actual doctoring, and the fake one he's got in the mystic arts. Quill hates to watch it, honestly, because — because part of it feels like it's on him. He freaked out, he ruined the plan, he lost control (Ego's face overlaps Thanos' — "I had to, I did what I had to, it broke my heart to put that tumor in her head-"), and now they're awake after two freaking years of nothing, and this kid is sitting here like a victim of wartime with no trace of self in his eyes.

"I've seen such a look before," Drax says, arms folded. "Many times, on warriors.”

Peter makes a soft sound of acknowledgement in his throat. "... How long does it take to come out of it?" Drax glances at him, more somber than he's been in Quill's company in a long time. "There is no measurement for such suffering." And isn't that just the reply Quill was hoping for? No, no it absolutely wasn't, and he thins his lips in helplessness at the scene. Mantis has obviously found some kind of emphatic kinship with the boy, and she leans in and listens to Strange's clinical ramblings with intense focus. Her hand ghosts Peter's, just grazing the skin, as if she's trying to keep him from fading further and further away. Little Pete had saved her, when Thanos threw her. In the end it didn't matter for any of them, but that's not the point — the point is, the kid threw himself into danger every chance he got, to make sure none of them died. Crumbling into nothing doesn't change that. He had his heart and head in the game, and... Quill closes his eyes, headache pulsing. "I'm sorry, guys. For freaking out, for fucking up, I just—" "There's no point in apologizing," Strange cuts him off, not coldly, but not warmly, a sort of fact-of-matter reply that belies no blame. "It was what was supposed to happen. This was our sole victory, the only future that could have possibly worked." "Okay, cool, but just because something's fated to happen doesn't mean it wasn't a stupid move," Quill mumbles. Mantis says with cooled sorrow, "It was for Gamora." Nebula's hands turn to fists at her sides and Quill swallows a lump in his throat, the name immediately raising goosebumps, sinking his stomach, burning his eyes. Dances on terraces and battles scattered across the galaxy like stardust and — and promises that Quill never got to fulfill, promises for things that never would be. The loss is another in a long list that leaves scar tissue, thick keloid nightmares, on his heart. He'll survive, like usual. But he won't like it. Rough and worn, he mutters, "... Yeah." And that's all that has to be said among them about that particular topic, right now. The next step is finding Thor, because it'll help them find Rocket and Groot, and then... he's not sure. But what he does know is that they've got a doctor and a kid who needs to get back to earth, pronto. And Quill is not about to ditch these two on some godforsaken planet. "You two come with us, and we'll get you to Earth in no time," he finally says. "That would be appreciated." Strange nods. "There's little I can do for the boy here." "Can you tell what's wrong with him?" Mantis asks. Strange looks at Little Pete, pressing a hand to his forehead, to his temple. It's surprisingly gentle and careful; Quill doesn't remember doctors being nearly so kind, but to be fair, every doctor became 'the asshole who couldn't fix my mom' at some point. They might as well have grown fangs and claws. Strange says at last, "I'm not completely sure, but if I had to fathom a guess... I imagine it's not something grounded in anything medical. The soul stone might have had something to do with it — it's the portion of the gauntlet that would have no doubt carried out the ebb and flow of our spirits through the astral plane." "Oh," Quill quiets for a moment. "Oh, shit. Yeah. I remember..." "You remember?" Strange's brows raise. "Y-yeah. I remember a little bit. Like, being dragged back through... something. It was bright, too bright to really see anything. But there were a lot of voices, but I could make out the ones close to me — like, um. I heard Drax and Mantis. And then I heard... the kid... I dunno. Maybe?" "I don't remember anything of the sort," Drax grumbles. "It's probably because of the 50% of him that isn't stupid," Strange says, and Quill flatly ignores him to continue talking. "Right. Anyway. I remember, I was..." He stops, squinting as if it'll all just come back into focus. And to his credit, the memory is a little less foggy. He can see Peter's wide eyes looking back at him in a veil of orange-tinted mist, but the teenager was staring at him like a deer in the headlights, his body refusing to crumble into thousands of blinding particles like everyone else's already had. Or maybe... Peter was refusing to let his body crumble. "I was reaching my hand out — for him... to try and get him to get a move on, I guess..." He extends his hand toward the teenager's still figure, sitting in front of him. He doesn't move or react, predictably, but the picture in his head is enough. "... He said it was hurting." Quill's voice is soft and sympathetic, as he looks at the dirt etching the lines of his palm. "He just kept getting further and further away, and it was so bright, and there were so many people pushing me back... I couldn't follow. I don't remember anything before or after, though. Just... that." Strange nods as a contemplative silence falls over the star lord, and then looks to Mantis. "... Can you feel anything at all, when you touch him?" Her hands wrap around Peter's palm, squeezing. "I have not felt anything in some time, now." Quill has a feeling the kid's not coming back, either. Not like them. But there's no point in dawdling, and Strange stands Little Pete up (the name's catching on) and helps walk him toward the ship with easy steps. It's weird to see something so shell-like move, shambling like a corpse from an old zombie flick — he watched Night of the Living Dead with his mom and couldn't sleep alone for a week straight, and now he feels that same uneasy clench in his chest, which isn't really fair to Pete. The ship is as they'd left it, funnily enough; Nebula hadn't changed a single thing about the set-up. Maybe it's because she needs so little to function, she doesn't bother upsetting the ecosystem. But Quill likes to think she wanted to keep it nice and familiar and cozy for them, when they came back. "What now?" she says, glancing at him. "First, I'm gonna make a few calls to earth," he says, buckling in for take-off. "Then you're gonna tell me everything that happened since we dusted.

Make no mistake, Stephen Strange did not enjoy being the hard-ass with a mission. He did not enjoy going toe-to-toe with Stark like some kind of alpha dogfight, because he knew that at the end of the day, they both had wanted the same thing, essentially: peace, safety, a world — a universe — that is defended and safeguarded from the worst of what was out there. Their ideas for doing so were different, mind, but their hearts were at the same board meeting. And make no mistake, though Strange was willing to lose comrades in this and choose the stone over Stark or the boy, it didn't mean his heart didn't ache for the kid who had been dragged into all of this. Looking at him now, lost somewhere he couldn't reach, was igniting every surgeon's nerve in his body. This wasn't something an operating table could fix, and the shaking hands digging through the Benatar's medical supplies could do little other than make sure he was physically alright. Mantis can't do anything other than hover, and Strange doesn't mind the company, however odd the young woman was. The antenna on her head and her coal-black, full eyes were far less jarring to him than her awkward social mannerisms, and he spends some of his time in-between checking up on Peter Parker to talk to her about anything that came to mind: answers about earth, about his powers, cleared up confusions on where handshakes originated from. She's a good spirit who has her heart in the right place, so he can see why she gravitated towards Peter's side. "I managed to get in contact with this place, uh — Wakanda?" Quill calls back from over his shoulder. "They're the only bozos down there with decent reception, go figure. They're playing a game of telephone with me and Stark right now, and I guess Groot and Rocket are safe, but they're already back in New York City with a bunch of those Avengers guys." "Thor's Avengers," Mantis says cheerfully, as Stephen turns his attention back to Parker. It's a bit cold in the medical area, so he nudges his cloak until it gets the hint and leaves him, to curl around Peter's shoulders. As he sits near the unresponsive boy with little else to do but wait, he glances back to Mantis with interest he'd kept at bay until a more appropriate time. "So you're an empath." She looks at him, eyes dark and rounded with something close to innocence. It's not a common sight, around such weathered fighters, and her movements are slow and non-threatening as she considers his words. "That is correct... I feel feelings. I can sense things, sometimes." "You knew when people were dying," he responds with kinder cadence. "I suppose I did... there was a feeling of... despair. It was distant, but it grew and grew before..." "I see." "I wish I was able to do more. I was not very much use, when we were fighting Thanos. I felt helpless, with my abilities as they are. And now... Little Peter... I just sit and listen for his fear or pain, but nothing has happened since Titan. It feels like I should be able to do something, but I cannot." Quill's head turns just slightly from the pilot's seat. Strange sees that he's listening, solemn. But the answer is easy, however, and Strange replies with little room for doubt, "Don't disparage yourself, Mantis. Your powers are both unique and important, even in times of war... Listening to someone's heart is one of the most powerful things anyone can do." She smiles, before her eyes are drawn to his oddly marked hands. "May I?" He offers his trembling palm upward without fear of baring anything he wouldn't otherwise, and she takes it, enveloping his knuckles in soft, warm hands; they've seen little manual labor, if any at all, and he supposes that makes sense. Her master, from what little she told him in the last few hours, sounds like someone no being should ever have to endure. Her antennas glow softly in the cool colors of the interior ship; in the corner of his eye, he sees Quill turning more fully to watch them. She says, eyes closed, "You are calm, but worried. And you are reminiscing... fondly of someone, but they're gone now. They inspire you to stay determined, though." Strange smirks a little, the hand in his not calloused, and yet so familiar now. "I think she would have liked you a lot." "I hope so! I would be happy to make new friends, like I have today. You and the Iron Man, and — and Little Peter." Little Peter does not so much as twitch. "If only there was a way to bring him back to himself," Drax says, chewing loudly on food rations; Strange is not a fan of the texture. Bit too chalky. The muscular warrior squints at Peter, then looks to Strange like he's perhaps found a solution to the whole problem. "Would he react if I suplexed him?" "You are not suplexing anybody!" Quill blurts, standing up from his chair to wander over. "I am just trying to help!" Drax complains, hands out in front of him. "He's very durable!" "You're not suplexing a catatonic teenager," Strange says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. The Ancient One is laughing at him from somewhere out there in the cosmos, he's almost sure of it. Meanwhile Quill nudges passed Drax with a roll of his eyes, turning his full attention on Parker's expressionless face, on his prone, iron-gloved hands. The annoyance left over from Drax fizzles as he studies the other Pete. Then he sighs through his nose, looking at the kid with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "These guys, am I right? I bet you're sick of this whole trip by now." It takes Strange a moment to recognize Quill's efforts as he sits crouched in front of Parker, but he appreciates them. "Hang in there, kid... It's gonna be a kinda long ride to Earth, and between you and me, space can get kind of boring the more you float through it. Especially on a road trip." He fidgets with a decently crafted pair of headphones he'd retrieved from the captain's chair, and the others fall silent as he slips them over Peter's boyish ears, Mr. Blue Sky muffled as it plays; it's a gentle sort of moment that Strange finds rare and difficult to ascribe feelings to, watching the small crew huddle with some semblance of hope and optimism for someone who may very well be completely lost to fate. Perhaps he'd had too fast of a knee-jerk reaction to the Guardians of the Galaxy, after all. Not an hour and a few Paul Anka songs later, Peter Parker is curled up in his seat, swaddled in a determined red cloak and, one could only hope, listening to the distant melody of earth and all he's left behind.

#peter parker #peter quill #mcu #marvel #stephen strange #mantis (marvel)#drax the destroyer #nebula (marvel)#mcu fanfic #infinity war #ehsfanfic #fanfiction #mymcufanfic #marvel fanfic

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duncanjyc · 3 years

Text

Above picture: - https://pixels.com/profiles/michael-bish

Finding past connections - Volume 12

I recently passed reconnecting with 100 people (I am not sure who it was, most likely Michael from my grade 5-7 period). Upon reflection, I am more focused than ever on not completing this task (reconnecting with ~450 people) too quickly. Although I have thoroughly enjoyed this process and reconnecting with so many great people, it is now becoming not so much a chore but a large-time sponge. As a result, my frequency of blog posts will probably slow down to once a week or so as I will have a lot less to report.

==========================

Michael, #100 connection, was a very good friend starting in Grade 5. I think it was because he was “out there”, which for grade 5, was pretty early. Then again, it was swinging London around 1970. He was the first kid I knew to smoke (all sorts of things), date and generally have a party lifestyle. (more on that later).

A highlight for me was playing 5-aside indoor soccer against the other grades that first year. The competition was in groups of years (5-8) and (9-12). To even it out a bit, the older grades were at a 2 goal/year disadvantage when playing younger teams. As we were the youngest grade (there were 4 teams per year), we started off 2, 4 or 6 goals ahead when playing the older grades. Our team strategy was pretty simple: don’t give up goals. Our team consisted of Michael as our lone attacker; three of us on defense and, as I recall, the star of our team in goal (Eric?). I believe at the time we averaged about 4’ 6” and 80lbs – except Eric who towered above the rest of us ants. When we played the older grades we were at a significant size disadvantage, but we were good defenders. We won our first two games (something like 2-1 and 6-4) without scoring before we faced a grade 7 team.

In this semi-final game, they scored with a few seconds left to tie the game at 4-4. We expected some sort of 10 minute overtime with us being up 1 goal, but we were told it was a sudden victory game. I would love to say we scored, (Michael did come close) but we lost, oh well.

When I reconnected with Michael, he is now an artist in California and, amazingly enough, married to someone from our grade. He was married to someone else before reconnecting a few years ago with Nancy and all is now good. You can find a link to his art at the top.

How did I find Michael? The school posted an article about people who met their spouses at the school and Michael and Nancy were featured. From there, Facebook was my friend.

===================================

Searching for Moira – Part 5…?

So, I was done to one possible person to find Moira: Fred.

I easily found his Facebook page and took the gamble to “friend” him as well as send him a message. I later found out that messages are only delivered when you friend someone. As a result, the message sat in his mailbox unseen and unopened.

But most interestingly, I saw from his profile that he had cycled across Canada – twice, at my age! That got me thinking, maybe I should try this? Time to get some information. As I said earlier, I joined Toronto Bicycling Network and their Facebook page: what better place to ask questions. I wrote a post about what was involved in cycling across Canada as an older guy.

That day I got several responses including one from the TBN’s president who wrote a very comprehensive response. Near the end of it he wrote, “you should really talk to Fred, whom I have copied here.”

And then Fred responded with an even better post that answered most of my questions (while raising others). I took the opportunity to ask the subsequent questions and we corresponded a few times over the next few days. And then, he accepted my friend request and answered my first message – do you know where Moira is?

As an aside, I am now adding more and more cycling hours to my weekly exercising with the goal of getting to about 500/km/week (~310 miles) – minus the hours I spend rowing. 50-50 that I cycle across Canada next year.

Back to Moira. Fred response: “Yes, her address is <xxxxx>.” It was Thursday night (three weeks ago – 3+ months after I started looking). Can it be true that I found her?

I try several ways of corroborating if the address was correct but none work. What do I do? Send a letter? What if she has moved? Show up at her door – kind of stalking?

I wake up the next day and knew what to do. I spend a couple of hours composing a letter that explained why I wanted to trace her and a short form of the efforts that I undertook to get to this point.

I drove to the address and knocked on the door. A very short Asian woman answers the door – not Moira. Crap; is this the literal dead end? After a short explanation of my search for an old colleague, I ask, “I am looking for Moira <xx> and I believe she used to live here 10 years ago. Any idea where she might have moved to?”

“I have lived here for a long time. Moira doesn’t live here,” she says with a slight smile on her face. “She lives next door,” pointing to #2.

I control my eagerness to run over to the next door… Knock, knock.

Moira answers the door, looking more or less how I remember her only some years older (same here). We had a slightly awkward conversation for 30 minutes over the door stoop and we exchanged life stories.

And that is how I found Moira. I have reconnected her with the Alumni group from my first job. I doubt that she will show up at the next event in November as she didn't seem too eager to do so. Oh well, I tried (and then some).

I should add, I subsequently contacted a few people that helped me in this search and told them that the search was successful. I owe a box of chocolates to the researchers at the Toronto Reference Library who inspired several of the steps I have covered. You can reach them too at https://www.torontopubliclibrary.ca/contact/

Now, how do I find Tommy, Andrew, Martin, and all the other people I have been tracing? I hope it isn’t this hard.

========================

Present count of people I have connected with: 112

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the-stories-in-my-head-95 · 7 years

Text

Hey, I’ve Got You- Chapter Three

Tony Stark x enhanced! Reader

Summary -The reader was captured and experimented on and given the healing factor and she has claws that extend out from the bed of their nails. The people who are experiment on her cover her skeleton in vibranium. So the reader now has metal claws. They keep her locked away for a very long time. They rarely feed her or let her out because there is such a high chance of her escape now. Somehow the UN panel that is in charge of the accords finds out about the illegal experiments and send Iron Man in to shut down the operation. The reader is the only one there because the scientists had gotten word that they had been discovered. Tony finds the reader and takes her back to the compound.

Message-TIME JUMP! Sorry if it sucks!!

Warning- Reader is held captive and experimented on. Mentions of torture. Self-injurious behavior.

Background Chapter One Chapter Two

Word Count- 1,000ish

You had been living at the compound for 6 months. You had met Rhodey and Pepper the second day you were her and you had all become the best of friends. You had learned a lot about yourself since being freed. You were sassy, stubborn and sarcastic. You would fiercely protect and defend those you cared about- even if it was from themselves. Also you learned that you loved to shop, you loved being able to choose what you wore, you loved to be able to style your hair to perfection and you loved to make sure your makeup was on point. You think that it’s because you weren’t allowed to do any of these things for so long, so now you were over compensating for lost time.

But the most important thing you’ve learned about yourself since you came here was that you were in love with Tony Stark. He was kind, generous, funny and probably the best person on this earth. You knew he didn’t see it. Years of being emotionally abused by his father had destroyed his self-worth and the “civil war” with the other Avengers hadn’t helped. People said he was cruel, vapid, and narcissistic, but you knew that, that Tony was an act that he put on so people wouldn’t get to close to him. The only people he let see the real him were you, Rhodey, Pepper and as of very recently, Helen.

After the first week of living here your days fell into an easy schedule. You would get up around 8:00. Go to the lab to see Helen so she could get blood samples from you-she was still trying to figure out why you weren’t aging. Then you would join Tony for breakfast and the two of you would spend the mornings either in his lab, watching movies or going to different museums’. After lunch you would see your therapist for your 2 hour session, then you would go train- you had decided that you wanted to learn how to fight. Tony had found a retired SHEILD agent to teach you. According to them you were a natural, it probably had something to do with your enhanced senses, you could hear, see, and smell better than an average person. You also had quicker reflexes. After training you would have dinner with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper and Helen. After dinner you guys would play games, have movie nights or just hang out. On Saturdays you, Pepper and Helen would have “girl’s day” and the three of you would do things like go to the spa, or go to the mall. Sundays were lazy days and everyone would hang out in their pajamas until early afternoon. Most of those Sundays involved you and Tony cuddling on the couch while everyone helped to catch up on the last 50 years. You were currently walking to your therapy session when you walked in you saw your therapist and before you even sat down you blurt out:

“I think I’m in love with Tony.” Your therapist nods

“Is it because he rescued you? Or maybe it’s because he takes care of you? Loving someone who rescued you and then took you in is natural.”

“No, it’s not like that. Yes he did save me and yes he does take care of me but I take care of him to and I love him because he is kind and generous and funny. I love the stupid smile he gets when he’s explaining his tech to me. I love that he was so willing to take me in when I was a complete stranger who was traumatized. Tony gives and gives and the world just keeps taking from him, I think that its time someone starts giving back to him.”

“Do you think you’re healthy enough to be that person?” your therapist asks.

“I-I know my mental health isn’t 100% but these last 6 months have been good. When I look in the mirror I see Y/N, not that traumatized girl who could barely remember her name. But it’s a moot point, he probably doesn’t love me. He’s used to dating women like Pepper. Women who are put together and successful.” You say with a frown.

“How will you know for sure unless you talk to him? If this is what you truly want then you should know all healthy relationships require open lines of communication.” You nod at this. The two of you talk more about what a healthy relationship looks like and then after your two hours is up you go to find Tony.

“Y/N!” Tony calls. “I want you to meet someone. This is Peter Parker. Remember I told you about him? He’s Spiderman.”

“Mr. Stark! You can’t keep telling people my secret identity!” a boy who was probably 15 says.

“Don’t worry, kid. Your secrets safe with me. I thought Tony said you weren’t joining the Avengers yet?”

“Oh, no, I’m just here for the summer. I want to finish school before I join full time.” Peter says back.

“That’s great, would you mind if I stole Tony away for a few minutes?” You ask.

“Of course not! Tony told me I would be training with you so I’ll see you in a bit.” The kids said before running out of Tony’s lab.

“What do you want to talk about?” Tony asked curiously.

“I-uh just wanted to let you-uh….jeez, this is hard.” You says are you take a deep breath.

“Your leaving aren’t you. That’s what you’re trying to tell me right?” Tony’s voice cracked and you looked up and saw that he was distressed.

“What? No, I would never leave you, Tony. I’m in love with you.” You say and then you gasp and use your hands to cover your mouth. That was not how you wanted to tell him. But then you look at him and his eyes are soft and his smile is wide. He reaches out, grabs your hands and pulls them away from your face.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Tony says. You look down at your hands and then you look up at him. Then you lean into him and give him a quick chaste kiss.

Tag List- @capbuckthor @avc212 @purplekitten30 @peachpodge @red-writer13 @redcresent @sexysamsungl

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x enhanced!reader #tony stark imagine #spiderman imagine #avengers x enhanced!reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #iron man imagine

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the-fauxpas · 7 years

Text

five / watermelon granita

uni AU co-written with @ineffably-styles

a story of late nights, unorthodox household plants, and a trip to Vegas that changes everything

“How’s it going, guys?” a new voice sounded, Zayn appearing a few seconds later and taking a seat beside Alexa. “Has anyone tripped yet?”

“Niall landed on his bum about fifteen minutes ago. Kept whining about how he’s probably bruised his tailbone. Personally, I don’t think he’s really cut out to play this game,” Savannah commented, waving a hello at Zayn.

chapter four / story page

“Oh no,” Savannah slumped, spotting Louis and Reyna chatting together by Louis’ car, identical cups of coffee in their hands.

“Crap,” Alexa sighed, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder and biting her lip. Reyna and Louis’ heads snapped up as they approached, a broad smile stretching across Louis’ face.

“Need a lift?” Louis asked once they were close enough, dangling his car keys before them.

“Uh, sure?” Alexa replied, a little confused. Savannah just stood there, squinting over at Reyna as if she was trying to decipher a particularly difficult maths equation.

“Lou’s offered us a ride to uni,” Reyna shrugged, raising an eyebrow at Savannah’s blatant staring. “It’s a peace offering for ruining the movie yesterday,” she explained, narrowing her eyes a little at Louis, who was still grinning like a fool.

“Sure is. Now, chop-chop,” he clapped his hands together. “Don’t wanna be late now do we?”

“Ha!” Reyna scoffed, watching as Louis pulled open the passenger side door for her to climb in. “You’ve never been on time to anything education-related,” she said, moving past him.

“Not true!” he defended, racing over to the driver’s side. “I was usually on time for football games!”

“That’s not exactly education-related,” Savannah piped up, buckling her seatbelt and placing her bag between herself and Lex.

“Plus, you were late to those half the time,” Alexa joined in.

“I thought this was a peace offering,” Louis grumbled, pulling his car out onto the street. “Not a ‘let’s attack Louis’ freefest.”

“You brought this upon yourself,” Reyna shrugged, pulling out her phone. “What class do you guys have this morning?” she asked Savannah and Alexa, twisting a little to face them.

“I’ve got Brain and Behaviour,” Savannah grumbled. “Our lecturer talks at about the speed of light so taking notes is impossible. Plus, there’s someone who sits behind me who eats the noisiest food, I feel like he does it on purpose.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got Menzies first thing,” Reyna sighed. “If you guys don’t hear from me after that class, it’s safe to say that he’s locked me in the morgue to join the other bodies there.”

“I don’t have class until noon,” Alexa grinned cheerfully.

“I hate you,” Savannah glared at her.

“Yeah but you have a seven hour Renaissance art class later on in the week, so really, who’s the real winner here?” Reyna shot back, high-fiving Savannah as Lex slumped down in her seat.

“I have a marketing class first thing,” Louis chirped with false cheer. “Not that anyone asked me,” he said, rolling his eyes and chancing a glance at the three of them. “It’s like I’m only good for giving you guys lifts to places and being made fun of.”

“That’s not true, Lou. You’ve also got a pretty sick apartment.”

“You know, if we weren’t already here, I’d throw you out of my car and make you walk the rest of the way,” he shook his head even as a smile fought its way onto his face - he was very proud of his apartment.

“Liar,” Savannah sing-songed as she crawled through the car and out Alexa’s door. She had a thing where, if her passenger side door faced the road, she would crawl over and exit the car through the opposite side.

Neither Louis, Alexa nor Reyna even blinked at her, but a couple students who were passing by sent them some weird looks.

“I can’t believe I’ve come all this way for a class that finishes at eleven. I’ve only got a lecture today and it’s more of an intro to the topic than an actual class. Apparently all we’re doing today is partnering up for some assignment,” Savannah rolled her eyes.

“My condolences to the poor soul who ends up being your partner,” Alexa joked.

“Hey, I’m not that bad!”

“Yeah, ok. Not like you basically traumatised the last girl you were partnered with by literally turning up at her doorstep at 2am one night with an ‘idea you just couldn’t wait to share with her’,” Reyna laughed.

“It was a good idea,” Sav grumbled, hitching her bag higher up on her shoulder as they four of them made their way towards their respective classes. “Why do we have to park so far away?”

“Because, finding parking on campus is near impossible,” Louis explained.

“It's true,” Alexa nodded. “Side streets are your best bet. Usually I just drop Sav off and find a place to park so I can escape her whining about why we have to walk for ten minutes.”

“I don't whine.”

“No, just a healthy level of complaining,” Reyna laughed.

“I like to think so,” Sav grinned brightly. “Is that Harry?” she frowned, leaning forward to try and get a better look at the figure heading towards them.

“Looks it,” Louis shrugged. “Oi! Haz,” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth for maximal volume.

“Warn us next time you're gonna yell,” Reyna growled, thumping him on the back harshly.

“Ow, sorry,” Louis apologised sheepishly as Harry hurried his way towards them.

“Morning,” he yawned.

“Long night?” Reyna asked.

“Dad wanted to go over some old cases with me,” he nodded. “Wanted to prepare me for some of the classes I'll be taking.”

“Sucks,” Reyna made a face. “I'm so glad I didn't follow the family business. There’s not really much investment bankers can teach me about the cardiovascular system.”

“Yeah, but you’re studying medicine now, so obviously they’re not going to be disappointed in you,” Harry scoffed.

“True,” Reyna grinned. “Maybe you should’ve done medicine too,” she nudged Harry as they continued walking towards their classes.

“Dad probably would have disowned me.”

“But you literally just said parents wouldn’t be disappointed if you do medicine.”

“No, I said your parents wouldn’t be disappointed in you. I didn’t say anything about my parents,” he joked, although Savannah could tell there was a slight truth to his words.

“So, anyway,” Louis interrupted the two of them. “You’re coming to football practice today right, Harry?” he asked. “Reyna’s said she’ll come for moral support.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” Reyna cut in. “I said I might come if I’m not busy.”

“Are you busy?” Louis asked.

“Depends what Sav and Lex are up to.”

“Sav?” Louis looked at her pointedly.

“Probably nothing,” she shrugged.

“Good, then you guys can tag along too,” he nodded decidedly. “See you guys tonight,” he dragged Harry away before Reyna could argue.

“Great,” she muttered. “Come on, Sav.”

“Uh, actually, I’m heading in their direction,” she said apologetically, hurrying to catch up with the boys. “Wait up!” she yelled.

“You will be expected to attend all lectures and tutorials within this course. Failure to do so may result in your tutor refusing to acknowledge your final assignment. Now, the first part of this assignment is due back in week four of this semester, and so you will be expected to choose your partners this week to be able to get started on it as soon as possible. Please, choose wisely. No changes will be permitted once the names are written down and my free time is very limited. I’d rather not spend it listening to you bicker about who did what.”

Savannah sighed while her lecturer, a short, plump woman with wispy, grey hair droned on about the importance of the first assignment for the term. The lecture had been forty five minutes of absolute torture and if she had to listen to another minute of this speech, Savannah was sure she was going internally combust… somehow.

It was taking everything she had not to fall asleep and Savannah found herself regretting the decision to skip out on the coffee Alexa had offered to get her before class. Especially when the brown haired boy beside her was sipping leisurely at the cup of coffee sitting on his desk. Every time he picked it up and put it down, the smell would waft over towards her, making her even more grumpier than she already was.

“Remember, this assignment is worth an overall 50% of your final grade so failing is not an option.”

“Just like this class,” Savannah murmured, dropping her head onto her palm as she chewed on the pen she’d found buried in her bag. She had almost drifted off to sleep when a quiet chuckle made her jump.

“Tired?” an amused voice asked from her left. Savannah turned towards the Coffee Boy, narrowing her eyes a little at him.

“What could possibly give you that idea?” she asked sarcastically. “Was it the fact that I was half asleep?” So she wasn’t the most friendly person when she was hungry and tired, sue her. But Coffee Boy didn’t seem to mind, grinning at her as he downed the rest of his coffee while she eyed him enviously.

“I’m Dylan,” he whispered, glancing towards the front of the room where their lecturer was now going over the assignment’s marking criteria.

“Savannah.”

“Nice to meet you, Savannah,” Dylan smiled merrily before the two of them lapsed into silence as the lecturer - Savannah didn’t even know her name if she was being honest - finally stopped talking for more than a couple of seconds as a student asked a question.

“Someone I know took this unit last year,” a girl sitting towards the front spoke. “He said we had to partner up boy-girl. Is that true?”

“Yes,” their lecturer nodded her affirmation. “I was just getting to that part. As part of this unit, it’s come to the faculty’s understanding that the there is a difference in the physiology of the way the brain works as well as a difference in behaviour between the two genders. And through this assignment we are hoping that this difference will be made prevalent.”

“Bloody fantastic,” Savannah grumbled, scribbling down a few notes as the lecturer made them.

“Not a fan of partnered work?” Dylan asked curiously.

“It’s not that,” she looked over at him thoughtfully. “Just don’t know any of the guys in this class is all.”

“You know me,” he grinned and Savannah saw that as her opening. “Is that your way of asking me if I wanna partner up?” she raised an eyebrow at him. Dylan shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean, yeah,” he muttered. “You don’t know anyone and I don’t know anyone. Makes sense we’d partner up, yeah?”

“You better do your share of the coursework,” she tried to glare at him fiercely, but from the small smile on Dylan’s face, it only amused him. After a quick glance at his notes - which were about two pages longer than hers - Savannah felt herself perk up at the prospect of spending the rest of the semester with someone who actually seemed like he cared about his work. She’d promised herself that she was going to try her best this semester, and partnering up with this Dylan guy seemed like a step in the right direction.

After the lecture, the two stood around exchanging details before they parted. As she walked away, Savannah spotted Harry sitting by himself on one of the couches, his head buried between the thickest book she had ever seen, brows furrowed in concentration. Knowing better than to distract him, Savannah walked on, feeling slightly sorry for Harry Styles.

“Louis, you owe me about three cheeseburgers for dragging me out here to this godforsaken place to watch you guys kick a football around while not actually scoring any goals,” Reyna grumbled, taking a seat on the bench as Louis swapped his trainers for some cleats.

“Come on Rey, just bask in the gloriousness that is English football. Doesn’t it feel incredible?” Louis said, lacing up his shoes and moving to stand up.

“No,” she grumbled in reply. “It feels like a wet patch on my bum and a field that smells like garbage.”

“You’re such a buzzkill,” he sighed, saluting the three girls before running off to join Harry and Niall on the field. They were a part of the university football team, and were spending the evening getting ready for the first game of the season coming up. If Savannah had known that she was going to be spending the next two hours on a damp seat, she probably wouldn’t have been so okay about going.

Savannah and Alexa sat there silently, trying to follow what was happening with their practice. They started off with laps around the field followed by a couple of drills. By the time they started with their actual practice, Savannah was ready to fall asleep on Alexa’s shoulder. Reyna hadn’t even bothered looking up from her phone since it started, and was now playing Solitaire to kill time.

“Aren’t you supposed to be paying attention to this?” Alexa asked her, effectively pausing her game. “I mean, you’re the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

“Oh please, Louis’ the reason you guys are here. I was forced against my will,” she grumbled, tapping the start button on her game.

“How’s it going, guys?” a new voice sounded, Zayn appearing a few seconds later and taking a seat beside Alexa. “Has anyone tripped yet?”

“Sounds like him,” he agreed, nodding his head as he watched the match.

“Why aren’t you playing?” Reyna asked, locking her phone and joining in on the conversation.

“Ah, I did for about two seasons but then my workload at uni kept getting in the way so I had to quit,” he shrugged in reply, not seeming entirely bothered by it. “Good riddance, I’d say. I barely managed to score a goal.”

“Oi! Zayn! Give us a bottle of water!” Harry yelled from across the field. Savannah looked up to find the group slowly making their way back to the benches.

“Get it yourself you muppet, I’m not your bloody waterboy,” Zayn yelled back, but went to retrieve a bottle of water from the cooler anyway. He threw it towards Harry once they were within close range - which he caught deftly - and reached back in to grab another one for Louis and Niall.

“How’d you guys find it?” Niall asked, moving to take a seat between Savannah and Reyna before gulping down half the water bottle in one breath.

“Uh,” Savannah began, watching wide eyed as he downed the rest of the bottle within the next two seconds. They were set to get back out there within the next five minutes and she briefly wondered whether he was worried about getting a stitch or not.

“It was good,” Reyna cut in quickly, not wanting to drag this conversation out for any longer than necessary. She really wasn’t much of a sports fan.

“Come off it,” Louis interjected, opting to take a seat on the grass instead of finding room on the bench. “You were on your phone this entire time, I’m pretty sure you didn’t even glance up once.”

“I did too!” she argued.

“Oh yeah? Which side of the field did we have to shoot a goal in?” he challenged, smirking.

“Left,” she replied coolly, holding his gaze as a means to say that she was not backing down from his challenge.

“Ok, you got that one,” he said. “But I’ll be quizzing you when this is over so you better be paying attention.”

A whistle blew from the distance and all the guys hurriedly got up to return to the field, but not before Louis gave Reyna a look to show that he wasn’t going to forget about their conversation.

“Ok Sav, Lex, keep your eyes peeled,” she commanded them once they were out of earshot. “There’s no chance I’m losing to this.”

Savannah sighed, leaning her head against Alexa as she concentrated on the game in front of her. Five minutes later, she found herself being shaken awake by a glaring Reyna. The sky had darkened considerably and the boys were all gathering their things surrounding them.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” she scolded, arms crossed as Savannah blinked the sleep away from her eyes.

“Oh, I did?” she asked, still groggy.

“Yeah, and it cost me 10 quid too,” Reyna sighed, pulling Savannah and Alexa up from the benches. Savannah glared at the empty field, as if expecting an apology for it costing two hours of her life and her dignity.

Harry strode up to them, all sweaty and gross with his bag slung over his shoulder. “How was the nap?” he smirked, bringing a water bottle up to his lips and taking a long gulp.

“Terrible. The only way I’ll come to a practice again is if you kidnap my family and use it as blackmail. Even then I’m not sure I’ll willingly come,” she deadpanned, falling into step with Harry as they followed the others out to the car park.

“Oh lighten up, Simba. A couple of the guys have taken a fancy to you girls, by the way. Proper think we’re the coolest dudes on the team for even knowing you guys,” Harry smirked.

Savannah raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. “So you’re coming to the game next week, right?”

“Apparently, I have fans. So I’ll definitely be there to sign a few autographs if you want to give your team the heads up,” she grinned while Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’ll see you at uni, Sav,” he chuckled, squeezing her shoulder before sauntering off to his car.

Savannah walked through the entrance to the library, juggling her laptop in one hand, while attempting to hide the greasy bag of hot chips she’d snuck in with her. Reyna - who was manning the front desk - rolled her eyes when she saw her creeping past, struggling to disguise the fast food by hiding it under her sweater. When she realised who was working, Savannah visibly relaxed, the stiff set of her shoulders softening as her whole demeanour changed from ‘innocent student’ to ‘tired student’.

“Thank god,” she breathed. “I feel like I’ve gone for a swim in grease,” she joked, pulling the food out from under her clothes.

Reyna only raised a brow. “You’re not allowed food in the library.”

“I thought you might say that,” she rolled her eyes. “Here.” Savannah pulled out a neatly wrapped burger and chips, placing them on the counter before taking out the bottle of Sprite she’d thrown in her bag. “Happy?”

“Very,” Reyna smiled cheerfully. “You’ve made my day.”

“I hope you realise how sad and boring that makes your life sound,” Savannah warned her.

“Piss off,” Reyna reached over the counter to punch her. “My life is plenty exciting,” she argued, retracting her arm to unwrap her burger.

“Plenty violent more like,” Savannah scowled, rubbing the spot that was now starting to turn slightly red.

“Whatever. How’s the assignment going?” Reyna asked, taking a bite of her burger chewing expectantly.

“It’s not. But Dylan will be here soon, and maybe we can finally start it. Send him over to my secret corner when he gets here will you?” Savannah asked, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. The weight of the textbooks were now starting to really bother her, and she couldn’t wait to get to her seat.

“I hope you realise how kinky it sounds when you say it like that,” Reyna mocked, brushing some crumbs off the counter. “I hope you have the handcuffs ready.”

Savannah chose not to reply and instead walked away to eat her lunch - and possibly dinner because neither she nor Alexa cooked very often. That was maybe one of the cons of having them both living in the same space - both managed to burn water when cooking and so took to ordering in each night or eating at uni before they headed home to crash. Which meant that there was a significant dent in Savannah’s bank balance, leading her to pick up more shifts at the cafe and therefore significantly reducing her free time.

It had been a week and a half since uni had started which meant that the first part of the assignment was due in less than two weeks. Upon realising that a substantial portion of their assignment was undone, Dylan and Savannah had finally agreed to knock some sense into each other and both swapped their shifts at work in order to schedule a night to meet up.

Dylan appeared as soon as Savannah turned around, a strange expression on his face as he studied the contents of the paper box situated in front of her laptop.

“You know… there are at least 20 calories and 0.8 grams of fat in one single chip,” he chastised, glancing down at the mass of chopped potato on the table.

“Oh no,” Savannah muttered, trying to shield the box of food from his scornful gaze but to no avail.

“Meaning that of the maybe 25 to 30 chips in that box right now, you’d be consuming about five to six hundred calories alone. And don’t start me on that burger…”

“Please don’t start on the burger,” Savannah whined at him, pushing her meal to the side to try and ward off his attack.

“You could go for something so much better like carrot sticks and maybe a tuna sandwich with wholegrain next time. Great for your health and helps you study better too,” he said, pulling off his bag and sitting down next to her. Savannah rolled her eyes. She’d rather eat a burger and risk her health than eat bunny food and study better.

“I’m hearing words coming out of your mouth,” Savannah began, pulling her food back towards her - she really wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good burger. “But none of it seems to be making any sense.”

“Probably because of all those calories that you’re consuming,” Dylan scolded, eyeing the take-out with distaste.

“There you go again,” Sav rolled her eyes. “Speaking words that don’t make any sense,” she glanced down at her food, her gaze resting on the textbook she was using as a makeshift plate. “Just like the words of this assignment,” she sighed.

“Which we really need to get started on,” he nodded, seeming much more determined than Savannah was at the moment. Maybe it was all the bunny food he was consuming.

“Yeah,” she nodded sadly, taking a few final bites of her burger while Dylan unpacked.

“Ok, so for the first question…” his voice was all business as he dived right into the details of the assignment, and unsurprisingly, Savannah felt her attention instantly wane as she continued to pick at her food.

“Well, at least that part’s all over,” Dylan tried to reassure the both of them as they made their way out of the library together. After a gruelling four hours of research, they had mutually agreed that it was best to leave the rest of the assignment for the coming week instead of risking eating each other alive. “Besides, we’ve done all the research that we need. We just have to type it all up and I’m pretty sure we can do that over Facetime or something,” he continued.

“That’s comforting, we only have about fifteen pages to type up,” she snorted, hitching her books closer to her chest. “Anyway, it’s getting dark. I better go,” she said forlornly, glancing at the illuminated sign signifying the entrance to the tube.

“You sure we can’t give you a lift? Jess won’t mind,” he offered, eyes darting around for his girlfriend’s car.

“No. No, it’s okay. I don’t live far from the station. I’ll be fine, I don’t want to be a bother,” Savannah argued, turning to leave before he could really change her mind.

“Ok, well get home safe, ok Sav?” Dylan said weakly, spotting a car with it’s headlights on and turning towards it. “Text me when you get there!”

“I will!” she yelled over her shoulder as she power-walked towards the station. The entrance was near - she was only a few metres away from the top of the stairs. Keeping her head down, she snuggled deeper into her jumper and tried to look inconspicuous as she made her way there. The streets at night in London always freaked her out, and for good reason. She was maybe five metres away from the station entrance when a car screeched to a stop right next to her.

Savannah was more than sure she resembled a deer in headlights at that moment. She stood frozen on the side of the curb as a car faced her, two silhouettes barely discernible against the bright light. She knew that she should probably run. Or hide. Or grab a weapon of some sort - though she doubted her jelly pencil case would do much as a weapon, but she just stood there freaking the fuck out because she was an idiot and she wanted to get killed.

Suddenly, the door opened and the driver got out. He was obviously male, his face still hidden in shadows against the bright lights of the headlights piercing her eyes. The figure made a move towards her.

“Stay the hell away from me,” she warned, though her voice was barely a whisper. She took a couple of steps back, hugging her books tighter to her chest. Books! Her textbooks weighed at least one stone apiece, for sure - that was a lie but they were still bloody heavy.

The figure took a couple of steps forward.

“You know what,” Savannah muttered under her breath, fingers tightening around the spine of her Psychopathology textbook. “Sod it.”

And with what resembled a loud gargled shriek, she launched herself at the stranger, textbook swinging wildly into what she thought to be the side of the guy’s head. She backed up, tightened her hold once again on the heavy textbook and launched the book at him from a distance, nailing him in the face. She quickly pulled open the top flap of her satchel to grab one of the lighter books - anything to attack him again - and she almost succeeded in getting her relatively heavy workbook out (anything but the laptop) when the figure held up his arms in defeat, speaking out for the first time since he got out of the car. Or rather, the first time Savannah actually heard him. The ringing in her ears from her panic had just managed to dissipate as the noises around her became clearer.

“Stop it you psycho! What the fuck!?” the voice yelled, sounding slightly familiar.

“Harry?” Savannah asked, doing a double take as she gripped the second book in her hands.

“Yes, I’m Harry you crazy bint! Who did you think I was?!” he exclaimed, one hand covering his cheek as he stepped into the light.

“I thought you were some sleazebag who wanted to kidnap me or something! Who the hell just pulls up next to some unsuspecting girl in the middle of the night like that?!”

“Fuck, remind me to never try to do something nice again,” he muttered, pulling his hand away to see if there had been any major damage.

Suddenly, the passenger door opened, and the second figure in the car all but fell out of his seat, clutching his stomach in laughter.

“Shut the hell up, Zayn!” Harry yelled in the direction of the car, still glaring daggers at Savannah who at least looked a little remorseful.

“That was hilarious, Sav. Please do it again so I can record it,” he managed to say between gasps of laughter. “You know, your war cry was definitely the cherry on top. How does someone so small make a noise so loud?”

Savannah blushed a deep red, head hung in shame as she tried to avoid Harry’s glare. “What the hell were you guys doing here anyway?” she asked Zayn who’d managed to compose himself and was now stood next to Harry.

“We were going to give you a lift home,” he smirked as Harry fumed from beside him. “Which, uh, didn’t really go well, did it?” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously, shooting quick glances at Harry to see if he was going to get attacked anytime soon.

“No kidding,” Harry spat out. Savannah couldn’t help but laugh at the red welt appearing rapidly on his face - there was no doubt he was going to be sporting a massively bruised cheek the next day.

“Look, Harry,” Savannah started towards him but he pulled back, taking a couple of steps away from her as if she was going to attack him again. “I’m sorry!” She tried to get closer to him once again and this time, he allowed her. Tentatively, she reached up a hand to inspect his cheek in the light. It was definitely swelling rapidly - a lot faster than she thought.

Curiously, she poked it.

“Oh my god, don’t poke it!” he exclaimed, hissing in pain.

“I’m sorry!” she cried again, as Zayn doubled over in laughter once more. “Are you still ok with taking me home?” she asked, suddenly shy.

“Guess I have to now, despite the fact that you’ve just disfigured my face,” Harry sighed, pulling his hand away from his cheek once more and turning back to his car. “Come on, We’re not letting you catch the train alone at this time of night,” he said, gesturing towards the back seat.

“Is he mad at me?” Savannah asked Zayn as she picked up her fallen textbook.

“I have a hunch... considering you just nailed him in the face with a bloody book,” he chuckled. “But he’ll get over it soon. Come on, let’s get you home.”

“This is your place?” Zayn asked as they made the way up the stairs towards Alexa’s flat. On the car ride home, Savannah had insisted (albeit annoyingly) that Harry and Zayn come up so that she could get him some ice and some painkillers for the rapidly swelling bruise on his face and he’d grudgingly agreed.

“Yeah, I’ve just moved in with Lex,” she said, unlocking the door and letting the two boys in.

He whistled. “It’s pretty nice,” he said, admiring the cabinets laden with every movie and TV show known to man.

“Savannah? Is that you?” a voice called from down the hallway, followed by a pyjama-clad Alexa in her fluffy slippers. She stopped short when she saw who was accompanying Sav, shooting her best friend a questioning look.

“Honey, I’m home!” Savannah announced with a grin. “And, you know, these two,” she waved towards the boys.

“Hey Zayn,” Alexa greeted, trying to shield her less-than-presentable outfit from their line of sight. “Hey Har- what happened to you?”

From behind Savannah, Harry sighed.

“I hit him in the face with this,” Savannah explained weakly, holding up her textbook for Alexa to see. It was slightly battered and beaten from the events of the night, but still usable nonetheless - which Savannah was endlessly thankful for because that alone had cost her about 100 quid.

“Hold up,” Alexa interrupted. “You’re telling me that you attacked Harry?” she questioned, eyes widening as three heads nodded back in response. Harry began to look slightly smug as Lex’s face dropped, appalled. “And no one filmed it?”

This time it was Harry looking appalled. “That’s it? That’s what you’re going to ask?” he demanded, while Zayn chuckled beside him. “Piss off,” he turned his face to glare at Zayn.

“You know,” Savannah spoke softly, moving towards Harry. “I really don’t think it’s going to be all that bad?” she offered, but it came out as more of a question than anything else. Her finger was, once again, a couple centimetres away from his cheek when he reached over and gripped tightly onto her wrist, making her squeal and jump in surprise. “Sorry!”

“Oh, my god, Simba,” Harry groaned, eyes wide with disbelief. “Were you going to poke it again?”

“I just wanted to see if it still hurt as bad,” she admitted sheepishly, blushing slightly, wrist still held tightly between Harry’s slender fingers. “And don’t call me Simba.”

“I can assure you,” Harry rolled his eyes, releasing her wrist. “It does.”

Savannah bit her lip, her eyes lingering on his cheek as she unconsciously rubbed the wrist Harry had just freed. “Ok,” she said decisively. “Come with me.”

“Wha-” Harry didn’t really have a chance to respond as Savannah dragged him through the flat - almost knocking over a lamp - as they left Alexa and Zayn to awkwardly fend for themselves. “What are you doing?” Harry finally managed, once they came to a halt in front of Savannah’s rather large bathroom.

“Go in and take a seat,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back,” and without giving Harry a chance to argue, she was disappearing back to where they had come from.

“Hold still,” Savannah grumbled, tilting Harry’s face so that she could rub the ointment she’d found in the cabinet over his cheek. She remembered when Alexa had tripped and twisted her ankle last Christmas. They’d been out trying to find last minute gifts, when everything had gone horribly wrong. They’d gone to the emergency room where Reyna had been volunteering as part of her coursework (and even though her commitment was over, she’d stayed on because she enjoyed the experience). Reyna had sighed at the sight of them, throwing the stolen medication at them with instructions to tightly wrap the ankle and ice it afterwards.

“I just don’t understand why you’re covering my face in that gunk,” Harry pouted, once again trying to move his face away from Savannah’s fingers.

“Because,” she jerked his face back. “It will help with the swelling.”

“But it’s cold,” Harry mumbled, his pout deepening. “And it smells!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” she laughed lightly. “You’ll be thanking me for this ‘smelly gunk’,” she quoted him, “tomorrow morning when your face doesn’t feel like it’s been hit by a truck.”

“I’d be thanking you more if you hadn’t been the one to put me in this position,” he retorted.

“Potato, potahto,” she shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait. “There,” she exclaimed brightly, finally moving her hands away from his face. “All done. Now put this on,” she handed him a bag of frozen peas.

“Really?” Harry raised a brow in amusement.

Savannah tried not to blush. “We didn’t have an ice pack?” she posed it as more of a question than she’d intended, as she turned back to the sink where she’d set up her supplies.

“Of course you didn’t,” Harry chuckled before tenderly placing the bag against his cheek. “This hurts like a bitch. I expect you to be nice to me for at least a month after this, by the way.”

“I’m always nice to you,” she retorted, gathering the stuff on the counter and placing them neatly back in the bag. “It’s you who shouldn’t test me.”

“That’s no way to speak to the wounded,” he scolded, pressing the pack more firmly on his bruise. “I’m going to be sporting this bruise for a good week, at least. Going to have people ask how I got socked in the face.”

“I suppose you’ll be making up some macho story. Injury-via-textbook doesn’t sound so cool,” she replied, laughing lightly.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll tell them something wild. Like I wrestled a lion or something,” he grinned cheekily.

Savannah snorted, gathering up all the rubbish and dumping it in the bin. “Yeah, because Louis’ definitely going to believe that when he finds out about this.”

“Oh shit, Louis,” Harry’s eyes widened as he thought of his best mate and his tenacity to find things out before they even happened. He quickly pulled out his phone, determined to be the first one to tell him the story.

Savannah left Harry in the bathroom with the peas while she went to pack away the first aid kit back in the cabinet and headed out to Zayn and Alexa who were sat in the kitchen, chatting. They looked up expectantly upon hearing her come into the room.

“How’s the princess?” Zayn asked, smirking.

“Whining like a little bitch,” Savannah grinned, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. She had to admit, she felt slightly bad for the inevitable bruise that was going to appear on his face the next day, but the situation was too funny for her not to joke about.

“What’s new, hey?” Zayn laughed, immediately cutting off as Harry entered the space. He eyed the two of them suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

“Ready to leave, Malik?” Harry asked, glancing over at Savannah who stared back questioningly.

“Oh… yeah,” Zayn mumbled, pushing off the counter and walking towards the hallway. Alexa followed him, leaving Savannah and Harry alone once again.

He took a careful step close to her. “Give me your phone,” he demanded, holding his hand out.

Eyebrows raised curiously, Savannah pulled her phone from her back pocket and placed it in Harry’s hands. After a minute, he handed it back to her as his own phone beeped from his pocket.

“You have my number now. Any time you find yourself needing a lift, give me a call, yeah? I don’t want you travelling home alone in the dark.”

To Savannah’s complete and utter surprise, Harry’s cheeks flushed a pale pink, and she couldn’t help but be flattered by the gesture.

“I’m a big girl… I can handle myself,” she retorted half-heartedly.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head slightly, “Trust me, I know,” he gestured to the mark on his face. “But just in case,” he winked.

And with that, he turned around and left the room.

AN: hi guys, sorry we’re a day late on this chapter but we had a long weekend here and if i’m being completely honest, we both forgot about it oops. hopefully the content makes up for it though bc this was definitely one of my favourite chapters to write. as always, we love to hear your thoughts so shoot us a message if you have a spare moment. otherwise, enjoy!! x

#wus #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #1d fanfic #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #1dff #fic:wus #wus2

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the-u-b-w-blr-blog · 7 years

Text

Apologies!

Hey there everyone! We were hoping to release episode 2 today, but it seems that won’t be possible. However, one of our voice actors did write up a transcript of the episode! Technically we could share the script, but a few things were changed up in the recording process so it doesn’t count much. So let’s thank AJ, our VA for David, for setting this one up! If you’d like to read it, just click the read more!

Xavier Washington: Hey Leon, did you- oh. Headset again.

Leon Hall: Huh? Oh- Xavier! Sorry. I was watching a video. A friend filmed us playing paintball, and I wanted to make sure there was nothing too embarrassing here before he decides to post it everywhere, because the guy has like, no self restraint at all.

Xavier Washington: We have homework, though. Did you actually do it or are you stalling?

Leon Hall: Man, we both know I always do homework early. What about you?

Xavier Washington: Basically done. Can I watch too?

Leon Hall: Sure, if you’ve got earbuds.

Xavier Washington: Always got those.

Leon Hall: Podcast nerd.

Xavier Washington: I like podcasts and you’re obsessed with any game involving shooting people, I vote myself the one in better condition.

Xavier Washington: Oh. You’ve got pretty good aim!

Leon Hall: Nah, not really. Plus, staying away from the other players doesn’t make for a good strategy. I was pretty bruised from the last match, though. Didn’t feel like getting hit as much this time.

Xavier Washington: Hm, that’s why I stick to laser tag. All the fun and none of the pain whatsoever.

Leon Hall: Yea, sounds too good to be true. Though I’ve heard there’s a group that uses the funds the school provides for clubs to go play that?

Xavier Washington: Oh? You mean people have finally noticed?

Leon Hall: Yea, I- wait, what?

Xavier Washington: Member of the U.B.W. and a siphoner of school funds, at your service!

Leon Hall: We’ve been friends for two years and you never told me you had access to free laser tag?

Xavier Washington: Well, I can’t tell ANYONE all willy-nilly! What’s that phrase Cici and Maria love? The best secrets are the ones you haven’t told?

Leon Hall: Explain telling me now, then?

Xavier Washington: You’re my best friend, you’re responsible, interested in games with guns, AND already aware the group exits. Doesn’t really break any promises anymore.

Leon Hall: Promises?

Xavier Washington: All of us made a deal not to tell unless it was to a friend who already knew. I really wanted to tell you though! I swear that, at least.

Leon Hall: Dude, it’s fine. I get it, even if I would’ve liked to know. Question though. What the hell does U.B.W. stand for?

Xavier Washington: Okay, that- that joke requires backstory. And I don’t tell it as well as the others. Actually, maybe they could tell you. And maybe you could play with us! We meet Fridays- would you want to join?

Leon Hall: Free paintball minus pain? Do you even need to ask?

Leon Hall: I swear to god, Xavier, if you don’t hurry up, I’m going to take off and leave you behind!

Xavier Washington: Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience.

Leon Hall: That was another founding fathers quote, wasn’t it?

Xavier Washington: George Washington, yes. I’m going fast as I can, Leon!

Leon Hall: I know, I know- Sorry! I’m just excited!

Elizabeth Lee: Where are they? I know Xavier’s usually late, but this is insane! We’re going to have to go in without our scout, at this rate. How do we take down the base and cover ground without both of our scouts?

Julia Taylor: I can always take a scout position, Lizzy- besides, David can handle scouting on his own for one day. It’s the small arena today, right?

Elizabeth Lee: Yes, it is- that’s why you can’t take scout position, Julia. We need defenders. It’s too easy for them to reach our base on such a small turf.

Cici Diaz: Hey, why does Julia get to call you Lizzy? You never let us call you Lizzy!

Kane Jones: The girl is stressed and distracted, she could care less about nicknames. Elizabeth, since it’s so small, and I remember it having lots of tall walls and obstacles… one of us could take a scouting position? Sniping them when there’s a thousand walls in the way gets a lot harder with no higher ground.

Elizabeth Lee: True, but it usually makes the difference in how many people reach our base either way. No, best we stick to the usual spots- you, in the hidden room by the side of the blue base, and me behind the wall next to ours.

Xavier Washington: H-Here! We’re here!

David Williams: We?

Xavier Washington: I brought a friend! From coding class, remember? He’s really good at paintball, so I invited him to join! I bet he could be great at laser tag, too! Oh, uh- Leon, everyone. Everyone, Leon!

Leon Hall: Uh… hey? I know, like, half of you. Did NOT expect this to be the group that uses club funds to play laser tag, honestly.

Julia Taylor: Hey, I know you! You’re the one that falls asleep in English every class!

Leon Hall: To be fair, who stays awake during Smith’s lectures?

Elizabeth Lee: As much as I dislike those who fall asleep in class, he has a point. Xavier- aren’t we NOT supposed to spread the word of what we spend club meetings doing?

Xavier Washington: I mean, I got excited when I watched him play so I sort of invited him?

Kane Jones: Well, if he’s cute and can handle a gun, I’m not complaining!

Maria Barrios: Seriously, Kane? No es tan lindo. Me parece que nunca sale de la casa.

Leon Hall: Wait, what? Maria?

Kane Jones: My cousin speaks spanish when she doesn’t want someone she’s friends with to know what she’s saying- which is RUDE, but she won’t listen. She’s saying that you aren’t that cute, cause you look like you never leave the house, but personally I think the neon green headphones, slightly baggy sweater, messy curly hair, sort of gamer look suits you!

Leon Hall: I… uh, thanks?

Kane Jones: You’re welcome!

Elizabeth Lee: We… don’t have time to continue introductions, I think. The match starts any minute- we should get into the arena, get into position. Leon? You’re on trial run. Get an accuracy score of at least 50%, and more points than David, and I’ll consider letting you join us in matches. Deal?

David Williams: You should know I never score below 15,000 points a match.

Leon Hall: So, strong silent type I need to best to complete the quest? Sure, I can do this.

Xavier Washington: Then welcome to the team! For now. Come on, I’ll show you a good starting point to get to the enemy base without getting spotted!

Julia Taylor: Are you sure about this, Lizzy? We pass as a generally academically inclined club, and I’m not sure what adding him to our roster could do. What if the new principal starts to question the sudden new member?

Elizabeth Lee: I don’t think he’ll bother a club that’s been standing a solid three years, now. Not his first year, at least. By the time he tackles clubs, we’ll be gone. What harm could it be? And who knows, we might find a new friend here.

David Williams: I don’t know, Elizabeth. Chances are that the increase in club spending might draw his attention. I keep us mostly under wraps, but there’s only so much paperwork you can hide the spending under.

Elizabeth Lee: Oh come on, have a little faith! Xavier hasn’t been this excited about someone in a while- and he’s the one that brought us all together, remember? This could be good for us. Now, let's get in position. And David?

David Williams: Yes?

Elizabeth Lee: Guarantee this is a challenge, would you? And tell Cici… she can have free range this match.

David Williams: Yes, Ma’am.

Announcer: Heeeeelllo there everyone! Now, both teams signed up to battle today have been fighting here for a few years- they’re the best here! So let’s give a huge round of applause fooooooor- The U.B.W! Reigning champions, their team is a well oiled machine, ready to bounce and cover each other at any minute! Their team captain, with alias Zenith, is notoriously hard to find and harder to hit- let’s see if they can keep rising to the challenge against…. The R.E.D! Always coming close behind, never quite winning but conquering anyone else below them! Team captain, with alias Hellfire, operates much like U.B.W. member Paragon- a wild card, you can never tell just what trick they’re going to play! This promises to be an interesting match- so lights out, vests on, and let’s see how it goes!

Xavier Washington: Alright, we can’t talk much- go for the base, and I’ll stay close for cover! Do you remember the path I showed you?

Leon Hall: I- yeah, I do, but I think I’ve got another idea. Do you mind if I split off and go for it?

Xavier Washington: If you think it’s a good idea? Just don’t tell Maria. She’s the one that keeps us working as a team when we're in training- she doesn’t like the whole separating thing.

Leon Hall: Guess I’m not telling Maria, then. Good luck, Xavier!

Maria Barrios: Shoot- Cici, we need backup! They’re already here!

Maria Barrios: Nevermind- they weren’t that fast.

Julia Taylor: We’ve got this. Kane has kept most of them running for their respawn point the moment they get close enough to start attacking- we’ll be fine.

Maria Barrios: I know, I know- I hate this small field, though. So many obstacles- it's so easy to lose sight of where you’re shooting!

Julia Taylor: That’s life, Mari.

Leon Hall: Almost there- hey, do they not have defenders….? A wide open base… Hold on!

Leon Hall: Sniper- that’s how they defend the base, and let the rest of their players run towards ours! If I can just hit the base, it’s instant game over- wait, no, it’s three times in a row, isn’t it?

Cici Diaz: Oh, by the way boys, if you all run in groups I can shoot you all down at once before you spot me! Try to spread out, maybe hide a little! Then, just maybe you’ll land a hit!

Leon Hall: Did you just-

Cici Diaz: Give advice to the enemy? Yep! They hate it when I do that. Toodles!

Leon Hall: That- sure. Ok. Now… got to take down the sniper…

Leon Hall: Shoot! Nearly got them-

Leon Hall: Got it! Base undefended, just gotta….

Announcer: Aaaaaaaaand it’s game over folks! The U.B.W. may have taken some heavy fire, but in the end their newest member took down the defense and the base while the rest of the team focused on getting through enemy lines! Better luck next time, R.E.D! And that’s the match!

Kane Jones: That was a fun match! Oooooh, I got so many points, I don’t know what to do with them!

Cici Diaz: Ah, not as many as me, though!

Kane Jones: I did get an overall higher accuracy stat than you did, though. That counts for a lot.

Cici Diaz: A happy trigger finger takes a few sacrifices, Kane. And that’s all I can say! Oh, Leon! How’d you do?

Leon Hall: A… 47% accuracy, and 10,354 points? Plus the base claim.

Xavier Washington: Oh, that’s super good for your first time though! Even if it… probably isn’t enough for Elizabeth to let you on the team.

Elizabeth Lee: Who said it wasn’t enough? All I did was give him incentive and a goal. It was too much to ask of someone who had never played the game before- but his score surprises me anyway.

Maria Barrios: Even I admit, the gamer boy has potential.

Leon Hall: So… am I in?

Elizabeth Lee: If you’d like to be. We practice Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, time varies. Matches are always on Fridays. You’re free to join and improve your accuracy- you could make a good Wild Card, with a little work.

Leon Hall: Thanks! I’ll do my best not to let you guys down- this was fun! And way, way less painful than paintball, honestly.

Julia Taylor: It’s part of the reason we picked it! Keeps the clothes less dirty, too.

Xavier Washington: You know what doesn't help keep clothes clean but is incredible anyways?Pizza! I say we go get some and celebrate a new member!

Cici Diaz: oooooh, can we go to the pizza place next to Nitrogen ice cream, please? Pretty please?

Elizabeth: I don't see why not. Can all of us go?

Maria: I can go if Kane skips his skincare routine for the night.

Kane: For pizza and ice cream on a Friday night? I can sacrifice some time. Does anyone else need a ride?

Xavier: Me and Leon can go on our bikes. Do you have a ride, Cici?

Cici: …No. My mom dropped me off here and I don't want to bother her on such short notice.

Maria: You'll come with us, then. Julia, I'm guessing you'll go with Elizabeth?

Julia: Do I ever not? Oh wait- can I, Lizzy?

Elizabeth: Do you ever not? Of course you can. David?

David: I borrowed Ms. Lissa’s car for the night and she doesn't need it back till tomorrow. I've got my way there.

Elizabeth: Then it's settled! We’ll meet up there!

#The U.B.W #transcript #apologies

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noodlecupcakes · 7 years

Text

Hot for Teacher - Chapter 13

Warnings: DRAMA, Attempted sexual assault, Violence, Language, Daddy kink

Shout at me if you want to be added to the taglist :D

Chapter 13

Roxy’s P.O.V

I arrived back at the apartment welcomed home by Zeus. I smiled and gave him the attention he wanted. Gwen was making dinner singing some old 70’s soul song to herself. Her parents were very much into soul music. “Hey cutie whatcha cooking?” I asked. “Bolognese, you’re back a bit later than normal.” “Yeah had some shit to deal with.” Gwen turned to me, “so when do I get to meet this Jason guy? You've been together like almost a month now. It’s about time I see if he deserves the Gwen seal of approval.”

Shit. No way she was meeting ‘Jason’. “That was the shit I was dealing with. It wasn't working out,” I lied. “How come?” “He was seeing someone else.” “What a fucking asshole. Damn I’m sorry babe.” “It’s ok, just glad I found out before it got serious “Right. Well there is a silver lining to all this.” “There is?” “Yeah there’s a guy in my class who's really sweet and is looking for someone.”

Double shit. I was not going on a date with another guy, Negan would flip his shit. “Oh well not right now. Consider me a bit angry with the male population. Dating is the last thing on my mind right now,” I spoke. “I get it, don’t worry just let me know when you’re ready.” “Sure.” I needed to start coming up with a shit tonne of excuses and fast.

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Over the next few weeks I ran out of excuses and Gwen was starting to get annoyed with me constantly saying no. “Just one date, that’s all. I’m not gonna force you to actually start a relationship with him if you don’t like him. One date that’s all I’m asking,” Gwen explained. “Fine. One date. That’s it.” “Great, I’ll let him know.” Gwen pulled out her phone and sent off a text. I didn’t even know this guy’s name or what he looked like. He could be a complete and utter creep…but then Gwen wouldn’t set me up with someone like that.

Gwen’s phone dinged as she got a text back. She smiled and glanced at me. “So, he’ll pick you up tonight at six for dinner,” Gwen relayed the message. Fuck. I was meant to be going out with Negan tonight. And there was no way I could get out of this stupid date now. I just had to hope Negan wouldn’t be mad I had to cancel on him pretty last minute. I pulled out my own phone and headed to my room, calling him. He answered on the third ring. “Hey baby girl,” he spoke. “Hey,” I replied. “What’s the matter? You don’t sound right.”

I smiled to myself, he always had a way of telling as if he knew me better than myself. “Gwen’s set me up on date with some guy from her class for tonight,” I explained. There was silence on the other end of the line and I knew he was doing his best not to get angry. “You’re not going,” he spoke. “I have to, I can’t keep avoiding it, I’ve been doing that for weeks now.” “Baby girl, you are not fucking going.” “Daddy I don’t want to but I have to so that she doesn’t find out about us.” He sighed, “I’m not fucking happy about this.” “Neither am I but the sooner it’s over the better.”

Negan eventually hung up and I opened my wardrobe, picking out some black skinny jeans, a plain white blouse and my denim jacket. It was nice but not too nice. I didn’t want to this guy to think I was making an effort or too interested. My phone buzzed with a text from Negan, I opened it up and smiled to myself. You keep me updated throughout the date, you give me the name of the place you’re going and if he does something you don’t like you tell me and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I applied a little makeup but going for a more neutral look, again I didn’t want him to think I was interested. Gwen came in, Zeus behind her as he jumped up onto my bed.

“So do I get to know this guy’s name now?” I asked. “Spencer, Spencer Monroe. He’s sweet.” “He better be or I’m holding you responsible.” The doorbell buzzed and Gwen dragged me with her to the door. She opened it to reveal Spencer. Spencer was tall, with a boybandish charm to him. His ears stuck out a little and it look like it had taken him at least most of his teenage years to grow out that stubble. I mean he wasn’t bad looking but he wasn’t handsome either. At least not in my eyes. He looked like he was a rich boy, a mommy’s boy. Spencer was carrying a bunch of flowers which he handed to me.

Not wanting to disappoint Gwen I took them from him and thanked him before giving them to Gwen to put in some water. I left the apartment with him and walked silently to his car. He opened the door for me and I climbed inside. “So where are we going?” I asked. “One Eyed Jacks, it’s a little 50’s diner place.” “Isn’t that the name of a place from the show Twin Peaks?” “Yeah, I guess the owners were inspired by it or something.”

I quickly text the location to Negan as Spencer began to drive. It was a long awkward drive, I had no idea what to say to this guy, I didn’t want to be here. Finally, we reached the diner, Spencer parking around the back. We headed inside and we’re led over to a small secluded booth. I grabbed a menu to avoid socialising with him more. I knew I would eventually have to but I wanted to delay the inevitable. “You look really nice by the way,” Spencer spoke. “Thanks,” I replied.

I hid my phone with the menu to find a text from Negan or as he was named in my phone ‘N’ to avoid any suspicion if anyone looked through my phone. Baby girl if you start to feel uncomfortable you tell me I will daddy, I promise “So you take English Lit, right? Gwen said how your teachers a bit of a dick,” Spencer said desperately trying to make conversation with me. “He’s alright actually. He isn’t used to teaching that kind of stuff what with Track being his main level of expertise.” Gwen could bad mouth Negan all she wanted but this rich boy didn’t know shit. “You’re in Gwen’s photography class?” I asked. “Yeah.”

The waitress came over at that moment to take our orders. Banana milkshake and a cheeseburger with fries for me, coke and steak with fries for Spencer. Spencer tried making a lot of conversation, most of the time I gave him short answers. So far he was seeming to get the hint that I wasn’t interested but that still hadn’t stopped the bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. Something about him just seemed off…fake. So, how’s your ‘date’ going? I’d rather be spending the night with you…frankly this guys a little weird. Weird how? Never mind, I’m coming to fucking get you. No! I can handle it!

I never got a response back. Fuck, I couldn’t let Spencer know that I was dating my teacher, he’d run his fucking mouth to everyone. Negan knew this…but he cared that much that he was willing to risk everyone finding out just because I had a bad feeling. Spencer paid for our food and made a move to leave. I made an excuse that I needed the bathroom, as much as I didn’t want Negan here I also knew how pissed he would be if he showed up and I was gone. I headed to the ladies’ bathroom and instantly hit the dial icon next to his number. The phone rang and hit his answer phone. Fuck. He really was on his way.

I couldn’t stay in here forever. I let ten minutes’ pass before finally leaving the safety of the bathroom. Spencer led me outside and to his car. I climbed in to the passenger’s seat and sighed. Spencer sat next to me and cleared his throat, making me look at him. “Roxy I don’t want to sound like an asshole but you could be a little nicer towards me. I brought you fucking flowers, I picked you up, drove you here and paid for your food. I think I’m entitled to a little something,” he explained. My face twisted in horror. He was one of those fuckers. Women don’t owe you shit let alone sexual favours all because you took them on a date buddy. I forced myself out of the car, stepping away from the vehicle.

I was fucking walking home then. I heard the car door slam shut and Spencer grabbed my wrist pulling me back towards him. “Get the fuck off me!” I shouted. He only tightened his grip on me. “Hey! The lady said get the fuck off,” came Negans voice. I felt relief wash over me and broke free from Spencer’s grip. I didn’t rush to his side however, something in the way he was looking at Spencer scared me. He looked like he wanted to tear him apart limb by limb, bash his brains in, gut him.

Negan was on him, forcing Spencer against his car as he punched him hard enough to break his nose. Negan threw him to the floor and kicked him hard. I turned away not wanting to watch. “I ought to fucking gut you, fucking prick!” Negan spat. It was at this point I knew I needed to intervene. If I didn’t I had no doubt in my mind that Negan would either indeed gut him or beat him to death. I rushed over and pulled Negan away with a little difficulty. “Stop it!” I screeched. Negan took a deep breath to calm himself. I didn’t turn to look at the state of Spencer. “That why you fucking defended him Roxy? Because your fucking him?” Spencer spat.

Fear filled me. He was going to tell everyone. Negan had him pinned to the car once more, taking on a calmer demeanour. “I’m gonna make sure the whole fucking college knows,” Spencer continued. “You do that and I’ll ruin your fucking life. I might not teach you but I know who your parents are rich boy. I could tell them that you were going to force yourself on Roxy, how do you think they’d react to that? How do you think the college would react to that? You’d lose your scholarship and be a huge fucking disappointment to mommy and daddy,” Negan growled. Spencer remained silent, Negans words sinking in. But Negan wasn’t done yet. “Or you could tell everyone sure. But you really think they would fucking believe you with how fucked your face looks? I mean you’re going to get laughed about anyway but you want to give them more fuel, be our guest,” he continued.

Spencer sighed clearly defeated. He knew Negan was right. Negan took a step back and glanced at me before back at Spencer. “Now fucking apologise,” Negan spoke. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “A proper fucking apology!” “I’m sorry.” “Good, now if I ever see you anywhere fucking near her ever again, if you even so much as even look at her you’ll lose your fucking scholarship, is that clear?” “Yes sir.” “Good, now get the fuck out of here.”

Spencer took off in his car leaving Negan and I in the parking lot. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep myself warm. I just wanted to go home. Negan came over to me and took my hands in his. “Baby girl look at me,” he spoke softly. I hesitantly met his gaze, unsure what else to do. I was still worried that Spencer would run his mouth. “He isn’t going to tell anybody ok, trust me,” Negan said reassuringly. He kissed me softly and pulled me into his arms, stroking my hair. I held him tightly, forcing myself to calm down. “Let’s get you home.”

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#negan #neganxoc #neganxroxy #negan fanfiction #negan angst #negan fluff #hot for teacher #negan au #teacher/student #student/teacher au #walking dead #walking dead au #Walking dead fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan

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no-white-knights-blog · 7 years

Text

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 8/50)

“Hn, where’s Sage?” Emery asked when he saw Dyria stepping through the hallway alone, two bags in his arms and a heavy frown on his lips. Emery would go as far as to call it an indignant pout.

“With Vien,” Dyria answered, pushing Emery’s bedroom door open with his foot, “He met up with us outside Sitoth Trading and dragged Sage to the bar to grab a request and see if anyone would recognize him.”

“Oh, I see,” Emery hummed with a teasing smile as he leaned against the door frame, folding his arms, “So Vien stole your date.”

Dyria tensed up in a highly amusing way before spinning around to argue with Emery, “Don’t be ridiculous, we were just taking a walk to Sitoth Tradin. Sage needed supplies, we were heading home, and Vien just showed up. It’s good for Sage to get out and walk around like he’s doing, and spend time with everyone else, he needs to bond with Halo so he can trust us.”

“See, that’s all great,” Emery said, lifting his hand to push his glasses higher onto his face, “Besides the fact you didn’t exactly deny the fact you were on a date.”

Red suddenly darkened Dyria’s cheeks, his shoulders squaring defensively but not bothering to really argue. He just turned with an irritated mumble and set the bags on Sage’s bed as Emery shook his head with a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I can’t blame you, Sage has that kind of rare, unexpected, ethereal beauty to him. I’m sure everyone he encounters will develop somewhat of a crush,” he smirked a little at the way Dyria bristled, but wiped the expression away when the protector turned to face him, instead frowning a little and tapping his chin, “Then again, you’ve always been so stifled and kind of uninterested in things like romance or relationships. You’re always so focused on raising Iliad and looking after Vien and myself. Don’t tell me the only thing you’re interested is how cute he is.”

“I’m not,” Dyria defended, shoulders tense, “It’s not like that.”

“Okay, sure,” Emery pushed off the door frame and leaned forward, hands folded behind his back as he winked, “Love at first sight then.”

“You’re not making this easier on yourself,” Dyria growled, and Emery snorted.

“What are you gonna to do, sulk?” he waved his hands in front of him, “Come on, Dyria, I’ve seen how you look at him; and by look, I mean you literally just stare at him for minutes on end. And somehow, he never realizes or catches you! It must be a side effect of the head injury,” he tapped his forehead, “Or he’s just too embarrassed to call you out on it.”

“Why is this even a conversation?” Dyria asked, striding forward, and slipping past Emery into the hallway, “You’re being ridiculous and immature.”

“I’m calling it like I see it,” Emery explained simply, following Dyria as he stormed down the hall, “You’re my friend, so it’s my duty to tell you when you’re avoiding some very obviously strong feelings.”

“No, I’m not,” Dyria stiffly denied, and Emery stopped walking, staring at Dyria with narrow eyes before sighing heavily and loudly in exaggeration, lifting a hand and raking his fingers back through his hair.

“Yea, I guess you’re right!” he said, his words echoing rather abruptly due to the fact they were in the entry, “I mean, you’re so blah, and Sage is so wow. You don’t fit together at all. He’s so adorable, though, he probably won’t be alone for too long,” he shrugged, smiling brightly, “Who knows, maybe he found someone better at the bar. Someone who thinks he’s just precious and adorable and beautiful. Someone who wants to do dirty, indecent things to him,” he dropped his hand from his head to cup his cheek, eyes wide, “Dear me, but I’m sure we can allow that, yes? After all, it’s not like you care.”

Dyria had essentially frozen to the spot in mid stride when Emery started to speak, and slowly turned to glare at him with an almost menacing expression. If Emery didn’t know Dyria personally, he would probably be terrified. He still kind of was. Dyria had done awful things after all, dropping to the lowest of lows just to defend the people he cared about. He would likely do it again if the need arose.

“There’s no way,” Dyria said, and a moment later the doors were thrown open.

“Great leader, we’ve brought a friend!”

Dyria and Emery both turned to look at the now open door, where Vien was standing in the threshold, Sage lingering behind looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, and a tall, unfamiliar man standing beside him, sporting thick dark purple hair tied into a ponytail and piercing red eyes. The shirt he was wearing was thin and strained against what muscle he had, and he was intimidating… and not awful looking…

“Huh,” Emery was holding his chin, appearing mildly surprised, “Well I didn’t think that would actually happen, to be honest.”

Dyria’s left eye gave a tic as Vien grabbed the ronin by the arm and dragged him through the door, silver eyes bright, “Ah, Dyria! Good! Look, I found a new member for Halo! His name’s Nirim, he’s a ronin!”

“A new member?” Emery questioned, and Vien nodded.

“Yup! Sage and I found the perfect request at the bar, but it required we have a ronin in our guild, and this guy was all alone, so we grabbed him!”

“Vien, you can’t just do that,” Emery sighed out, rubbing his temple, and Vien pouted, wrapping both of his arms around one of Nirim’s and leaning forward.

“But now we can take that request! It’s the perfect thing for Sage’s reintroduction of the Labyrinth! I’m not super sure why we specifically needed a ronin, but we’ll figure it out. Besides, they’re like hella strong, right? Look at this guy!” he patted Nirim’s broad chest, “Fuckin rock hard! So? What do you say? Dyria?”

Emery looked over at Dyria, who appeared a bit pale and sickly as he stared numbly at Nirim. The medic almost felt sorry for him and stepped awkwardly in front of him, holding a hand up, “Sorry, Dyria is currently unresponsive due to shock, but I’m sure we can discuss initiating Nirim into Halo,” he smiled at the ronin, “Where have you been staying?”

“Here,” Nirim answered, finally snapping out of whatever stunned trance he’d been in before, “I have a room on the top floor.”

“That’s perfect!” Vien decided, still clinging to Nirim’s arm in complete excitement, “One of us can move into your room!”

“Vien, you can’t just decide that,” Emery tried to scold, but the troubadour was far too excited to have heard.

“And we can leave tomorrow for the request! What do you think, Dyria?”

Dyria just pressed his lips into a thin line, and Emery laughed as he held an arm out, “How about we talk in the tea room? I think Dyria needs some fresh air.”

“Sure,” Vien yanked on Nirim’s arm and started to pull him towards the room off to the side, and Emery held his head, humming as he watched them go.

“I really was not expecting that,” he shrugged and turned, patting Dyria’s shoulder, “Oh well, shock treatment works best sometimes.”

With that said he followed Vien and Nirim, and Dyria watched after him with a grim expression. Sage stepped carefully towards him before reaching out to touch his arm, making him jump and whip around to face the survivalist, cheeks turning a dark red color.

“Are you okay?” Sage asked, “You look a bit… sick. Did something happen?”

Dyria’s eye twitched a little and he glared over at the tea room, “Emery can be a punk sometimes,” he said, and Sage smiled a little.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, whatever it was.”

“Oh, he did,” Dyria mumbled, shoulders slumping and a sigh heaving from his lungs as he dropped his head, “Honestly he should just leave me be.”

“Well, he is a medic,” Sage noted, “It’s not in his nature to just leave someone alone.”

“But I’m not sick!”

“Yea you are!” Emery called, and Dyria tensed up.

“I am physically healthy!”

“I didn’t say you were physically sick!”

Dyria just growled in irritation, and Sage bit his lip as his fingers curled into the protector’s sleeve, “You’re not… actually sick, right? Maybe you should lie down.”

“What?” Dyria turned to gape at him, “No, I’m not sick, I don’t have a cold or a fever or anything like that, really, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sage looked quite honestly worried, “I-I don’t want anything happening to you when we’re in the Labyrinth because you’re lightheaded or nauseous.”

Dyria seemed to struggle internally for a moment before shaking his head, his hand lifting to push Sage’s hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear so his eyes were in full view, “I promise you I’m not sick. Not… not in a conventional way at least, and not in a way that would ever put me in danger or in a vulnerable position.”

“Not exactly true!” Emery called, and Sage gaped over at the open tea room as Dyria turned and stormed over to slam the door shut before walking back over to Sage and taking his hand, leading him away from the entry of the inn.

“A-are you sure?” Sage asked, reaching out with his free hand to grasp at Dyria’s sleeve again, “You should lie down anyway, Emery said-.”

“Emery is just giving me a hard time,” Dyria mumbled, looking over his shoulder to glance back at Sage before turning back to the front and pushing the door to the bedroom Sage shared with Emery and Vien open, “Come on, I left all of your new supplies on your bed.”

Sage cringed, “Ah, I forgot about that,” he admitted, his hand lifting to mess with the fur lining the collar of his vest, “I still think it wasn’t necessary…”

“Well, how about this,” Dyria turned to Sage and squeezed his hand, “If I promise to lie down for your peace of mind, will you stop feeling so bad about me buying you supplies?”

Sage considered it before his lips twisted into an adorable pout, trying to glare at Dyria, though it wasn’t working, and pointed over at the bed, “There,” he said, “I want to see you resting myself, so lie down here.”

Dyria was mildly stunned, lifting his hand and attempting to hide the blush against the back of it before he easily gave in, “Fine…”

Sage seemed pleased as he pulled Dyria over to the bed and set the bags of supplies on the ground before pushing the protector onto the mattress, then sat down and reached out to brush Dyria’s black hair away from his eyes, setting his hand against his forehead to test his temperature. Dyria just frowned heavily and tried to sink into the bed entirely as his face heated up a little more and Sage hummed.

“Are you certain you’re not sick? Your head is hot.”

“Not from fever,” Dyria mumbled, eyes shifting to the side so he wasn’t meeting Sage’s intense gaze, “I’m resting now, see? I’ll try to sleep if you really want me to, so you should go through your things and prepare for tomorrow.”

“Mhm, I can agree to that,” Sage decided, turning away, but Dyria suddenly sat up and grabbed him by his shoulders, staring intently into his eyes.

“I need you to promise me something,” he said, and Sage tensed up, his eyes growing wide as he nodded.

“O-okay.”

“Don’t ever bring strange men home with you.”

“Eh?”

#EO #etrian odyssey #fanfiction #original plot #original characters #guild halo #my smol children #poor dyria isn't used to this kind of thing #vien you can't just steal people and make them guild members #against their will #high maintenance troubadour #sage is smol son i love him #and emery is a shit stirring medic #you're welcome

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gobigorgohome2016 · 7 years

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Jury Duty, Wedding Planning, and Mileage Ramping

Hi. I’m still alive! ...there’s nothing quite like serving as a juror on a murder trial to remind you of that fact. The past few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind. In a nutshell: I am steadily building mileage, I got engaged, and I learned that serving on a jury is really stressful while balancing mileage, wedding planning, and having your puppy-parent-co-pilot out of town.

On May 31st, Dave and I decided that after 7 years of being together (4 living together) it was time to get married. Let me rephrase in an utterly unromantic way: after me not having health insurance since July 2015 and Dave having an adult job with benefits, we decided it might be time for me to stop playing Russian roulette. Let me rephrase in another utterly unromantic way: this was all decided through tears in the Whole Foods parking lot (let’s be real…how many excursions to Whole Foods don’t end in tears, though?) We bought a simple ring together two days later and have been wedding planning ever since.

Unintended consequence: it turns out that getting engaged – no matter the circumstances – makes you really happy and remember why you got together in the first place. I thought that after spending so much time together, getting engaged would just be a formality. Instead, there seems to be an ever-so-slight shift in the way we interact with one another, which has been a lot of fun.

Now, obviously we are both extremely nontraditional people. We chose a date (July 29th of this year) solely around the fact that my two best friends (who now live in Idaho and Australia) were just randomly going to be within an hour of my hometown that weekend. I was in their weddings, and I would love for them to be in mine.

So, yeah, we planned our wedding around two my bridesmaids’ schedules.

I don’t fancy myself to be a bridezilla (I mean…my engagement ring and dress combined cost less than our celebratory meal…), so I never thought our wedding planning would be stressful. We are funding the day ourselves, which already relieves decision fatigue. Seat covers? Table linens? Wedding favors our guests will leave at the table? Can’t afford them, doesn’t matter!

Putting together our website has been a lot of fun...and a lot of work. The biggest stressor has been that we had so little time to secure a venue (found one- the Washington Park Zoo!) and send out invites (they arrive tomorrow and will be sent out Friday) that we had to cram A LOT of planning into a short period of time. Oh yeah, add to that the fact that Dave was out of town for 3 days last week and 4 days this week, which has made things slightly more difficult, since he is very much involved in the planning of our day. [if I was making statuses saying “Future hubby asked if he could help make a small decision with our wedding! So #blessed” he definitely wouldn’t be the one I am marrying.]

All of this wedding planning reminded me how terrible I am at multitasking. Suddenly, 5 hours have gone by while we are at my computer designing our invitations (which ALMOST got purchased without the wedding date on them…) and I haven’t had a bite to eat, much less gone for my run. I have had to really double down on planning the day and doing a better job about compartmentalizing tasks, as well as taking time to care for myself. I am living off of Orgain nutritional drinks, cheese, and Lara bars.

Over the weekend, my (20 year old) niece/ bridesmaid spent a few days with me. She helped me plan a few things since she is in another wedding this summer, and also kept me focused (apparently she has never seen a person have so many internet tabs open at once..). Even though having her here was awesome, I definitely didn’t get as much sleep as I needed, especially because I was getting up extra early to run and work so that we could spend uninterrupted time together. On top of a lot of late nights the previous week so that Dave and I could do wedding stuff, I was already pretty tired. She reminded me on Sunday night to call the courthouse to see if I had jury duty, and unfortunately I did. So, I woke up at 6 AM, grinded out some work, and arrived to the city county building by 8 AM. Nbd, I’ll just get my run in after I’m released from the jury pool, I thought, because surely a far left liberal feminist with a master’s degree in analytical chemistry isn’t going to make it onto a jury for a murder trial, right? (at least that’s what everyone told me).

During jury selection, I was asked if I felt that certain circumstances could justify a crime, and how I felt about false confessions. I was honest: I do not believe in victim blaming, and I think if someone falsely confesses to a crime I would have to question the person’s mental capacity, which makes me wonder why he/she is fit to stand trial in the first place. Surely my honestly meant that I wouldn’t be chosen for this murder trial right? Wrong.

Until 5 PM on Monday we listened to the strangest case I have ever heard in my life. Side note: in middle school/high school I was involved in a volunteer organization called Teen Court, which taught me a lot about the legal system. If you have kids that need to volunteer for honor society or whatnot, I HIGHLY recommend.

Since the trial is now over, I can legally share details:

Woman 1 (W1) was (unhappily) married. Husband brought home Woman 2 (W2) (who was married to W1’s ex-husband) and suggested W1 and W2 be sister wives. W1 said no. Meanwhile, W1 brings Man 1 (M1) home and has him sleep in her bed “for security purposes.” She also meets Man 2 (M2), who happens to be her 4th cousin, and they develop a close (romantic?) friendship. Husband upsets W1 by continually sleeping with W2, so W1, M1, and M2 plan to murder Husband. M1 and M2 murder Husband, but leave body, vehicle, and murder weapon at the scene. M2 (who was on trial – M1 and W1 have already been convicted) was charged with murder and conspiracy. He confessed to the crime, but defense was arguing it was a false confession given under duress.

We made it through most of the witnesses on Monday, but the defense motioned to break for the day right before we were shown the confession tape. We had to be back by 9:15 on Tuesday.

I make it home around 6 PM and have two attention starved dogs. I take care of them and then am utterly EXHAUSTED. I still need to run.

In my own personal coaching, I tell my athletes that sleep comes first. Never force a run when you are completely sleep deprived. So, I listened to my own advice and took a nap…and fell asleep for the rest of the night. I got up at 6 the next morning and took the dogs for an hour long walk, then went for an hour long run. I hurried up and made it to the courthouse, only to wait. And wait. And wait some more. At noon, the judge told us that we were released, but had to return by 9 AM on Wednesday.

Fortunately, this meant I would be able to catch up on wedding stuff, go for another run, and tire out the dogs, since we were told that the case would last all day and into the night on Wednesday. I woke up at 5:35 AM today, took the dogs for another hour long walk, and then went for an 8 mile run. I can’t believe I would regularly meet my friends at 5 AM to run in grad school. I was dragging both yesterday and today. When that happens, I break my run up into 10% segments. Today, I just thought about 6.5 minutes at a time. Make it to 10%, then 20%, then 30%.... It helps. I got to the courtroom only to be greeted by the bailiff and both attorneys. It turned out the defendant signed a plea agreement and we were no longer needed. Kind of a bummer that I drove all the way downtown, BUT, the bailiff said that we still get our per diem for the day. I will walk away from the last three days $120 richer (plus whatever they give me for mileage). Not a bad way to make a little extra cash for the wedding.

As for running, I’m actually really happy I had this experience. I am aiming for 70 miles this week, which has always felt like a hard in-between mileage week. It takes more effort than 50, because it is usually when doubles start, but it isn’t as exhausting as 100 mile weeks. However, since you’re in the process of building, it feels like you’re running more than you are. Having a sleep deprived schedule has reminded me how fortunate I am that I’ve been able to build my life around training, and I’m going to try and remember not to take that for granted!

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