#he overshoots it and we have to start over

[tahdashi]

i think i figured out my selfship w tadashi (maybe)

#lab partners to lovers 🙈🙈🙈 #i spent too much time in the chem building today #inhaled some chemicals #and this is the outcome #imagine me n him in 8 am orgo lab #sleepy kiddos who have to do titrations together #he overshoots it and we have to start over #we’re all giggly #sayu speaks

[greensbeanspotatoestomatoes]

@lara-cairncross I hope you don’t mind, but I wrote a little fic about your AU :) This would be Donnie showing his brace to his brothers after his leap of faith.

(Also you can definitely read Donnie & Kendra’s vibes as a crush if you want /pos 😂)

===========

“Gentlemen, if you would be so kind,” Donnie motions for his brothers to take a seat on the chairs he clearly positioned near the edge of the branch.

“Dee, what are we doing here?” Leo sighs, exasperated by his brother’s dramatics, “You know I love spending time with you guys, but I actually have deliveries to make today.”

Raph throws an arm over Leo’s shoulders, “Pssh, relax Leo, you’re fast enough to make it there in time.”

“Ok I know you’re teasing me,” Leo shoots his brother a side eye, before crossing his arms over his chest in defiance, “but I could definitely make it there and back. With time to spare.”

Mikey laughs while Raph just sighs and they all take their seats.

They’re fairly high up in the Pixie Dust Tree, in an area Leo knows not many fairies fly past. It’s starting to make him a little concerned that his jokes about Donnie murdering Kendra one day aren’t jokes anymore.

His brother woke them up early this morning, telling them that he had something to show them, but refusing to answer what it actually is. He also lugged a massive bag with him all the way here, but didn’t let any of them help with it. And the chairs being up here already proves that Donnie has clearly planned this out. It’s really making Leo believe that this is the last he’s ever going to see of Kendra.

“Yes, yes we all know Leon is fast,” Donnie bats the statement away and turns to his bag, “now if I can bring your attention to why I've brought you here today.”

“Which you still haven't explained, by the way,” Mikey grouches, not quite his sunny self in the dim light of the morning.

Donnie grins in a mischievous way, “All part of the surprise, dear Angelo! Now I need you all to close your eyes.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but closes them anyway, knowing that if he complains they’ll just spend longer up here anyway. “Donald, if you did something to Kendra, just tell us, it’ll make hiding the body easier.”

Mikey snickers beside him.

“I– Wha– No! I haven't done anything to Kendra. Not yet anyway,” Donnie moves on quickly, “I made something and you’re going to like it. Trust me.”

Now, most fairies in the Hidden Hollow are under the impression that Donnie doesn’t do feelings, an achieved product of his so called “Emotionless Bad-Boy Image”. But Leo can hear the excitement in his brother’s voice. He’s fiddling with something in the bag, and the suspense is honestly starting to have an effect on Leo. He’s getting excited too.

“And… open!”

He opens his eyes (Still semi prepared to see Kendra trapped in some kind of way) and is a little confused by what he’s presented with. Donnie is standing near the edge of the branch. His wings, usually down, are spread proudly on either side of him. The tattered one is covered in something Leo can’t quite make out.

Donnie shoots them a smile, and Leo hears a whisper that sounds like “Leap of faith,” and then the tinker fairy drops backwards off the branch and out of sight.

“DONNIE!!” Mikey screams, and Raph leaps out of his chair but Leo, Leo just dives. There's no thoughts about windspeed, hawks, humidity or any of the other things Leo normally has to consider when he flies. There’s no thoughts about how stupid his genius of a brother is, or about how if he isn’t fast enough Donnie might—. No, there is simply the need to move.

And move he does.

He drops like a stone from the height of the Tree, colours blurring past him as he streaks after his brother. His heart is pounding wildly, filled with shock and dread, urging himself to go faster, faster. He thinks he has tears in his eyes, but he tells himself that it’s just from flying at this speed.

He actually moves so fast he overshoots Donnie, who is very safely fluttering in the air.

“Donnie?” Leo rights himself immediately and shoots back up towards his brother. “Donnie! Haha!!” He zips a quick circle around his brother, trying to get his racing heart to calm down. He can see the thing on Donnie’s wing now. It’s a brace. The contraption covering his tattered wing is so delicate, clearly made by Donnie himself. Thin strips reach up the wing, acting as a scaffold for the pieces to stretch across, giving Donnie enough surface area to generate lift. He might not be into science like his brother, but he knows a thing or two about flying, and Donnie’s design is genius.

He’s so relieved it takes him a second to realise that they are still very much hovering above the ground which means, “Holy shit! You're flying!!”

He’s giddy with excitement, this is all he’s ever wanted for Donnie! Leo grabs him by the hands, and spins them in the air with joy. Donnie can clearly sense what Leo’s about to do because he panics and yells, “Nardo wait!” but it’s too late, because Leo tosses him upwards and crashes into him with a hug.

“Hahaha! This is amazing!”

“Ohmigosh! Donnie’s flying!”

Two more sets of arms encircle them. Their other brothers have caught up and Leo can feel in the tightness of his hug how Raph’s panic morphs into shock and then amazement.

“Yes, yes I can fly. Hurrah,” Donnie pats the back of Raph’s shoulder, “Although my wings are still delicate so…”

They all immediately release Donnie. And then Raph whacks him on the back of the head.

“You idiot! What were you thinking! You gave Raph a heart attack!”

“Well I’ve done the jump before so I know the brace works–”

“You WHAT?”

“ –I just needed to show you guys too.”

“Yeah but you could’ve warned us Dee.” Mikey pokes him in the shoulder, a hint of Doctor Delicate Touch peeking through.

Donnie shoots him a cheeky grin, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Leo’s amazed. He’s still chuckling. Of course Donnie would build himself a way to fly. Something as silly as a tattered wing was never going to stop him. It was only a matter of time.

========

Also not seen:

Donnie pretty much immediately sagging, because his wings aren’t used to flying for extended periods yet, and Raph hoisting him onto his shoulders to fly them back to the tree.

========

Anyways hope you enjoyed! Go give Lara’s AU a look. It’s amazing 🤩

#rottmnt fairy au #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #bean writes

[rayslittlekitten]

I Almost Told You That I Loved You Ch. 17

Chapter 16 | IATYTILY Masterlist | Chapter 18

A/N: I am anticipating maybe five more chapters of this. That might be overshooting but I haven't fleshed out the ending ending yet.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,537

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! reader

Plot: This takes place shortly after Tara leaves Charming. You start working at Teller-Morrow and an unlikely and messy relationship forms between you and Jax.

Warnings: mentions of emotional abuse?

Your car’s been acting up again. There is something rattling but other than that, the car seems to be running okay. No concerning lights are on, on the dashboard. You make a note to have someone check it out for you at TM tomorrow while you’re at work. Right now, you just need to make it home from school.

As you’re waiting at a red light, you feel and hear a motorcycle rumbling nearby. Instinctually, you look around for it and see one pulling up into the intersection perpendicular to you. Your stomach drops when you see Jax with a woman hugging him tightly from behind. Jax looks over his shoulder with a big smirk on his face. She leans in to kiss him and he kisses back.

*HOOOOOONK*

The person behind you leans on their horn, startling you and breaking Jax and his passenger apart. You floor it, hoping you can speed past them and he wouldn’t recognize you. Before Jax could realize what all the commotion is about, the woman distracts him again, pulling his attention back to her.

***

You haven’t talked to Jax since Sunday night and you’re still not sure what was bothering him, but you have a suspicion. He thinks he’s so complex and mysterious, but you’ve learned his habits and his antics are getting old really quick.

“Hey Ope, can you please get someone to take a look at my car? It’s making a weird noise.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll have Jax take a look,” Opie replies.

“Jax is shit at fixing cars,” you tell him. “Can you get Kai to do it instead?”

“I don’t know. We have a pretty tight schedule today.”

“Excuse me?”Jax strolls in from behind you and Opie. “Oh, please, Kai doesn’t know what to do with a car like yours.”

“I’m sure Kai can fix a goddamn spaceship if they existed,” you scoff at him.

Jax looks back at you for a moment with furrowed brows. 

“What the hell? Is it that time of the month or something? Why the fuck are you copping an attitude with me?” He steps up to you.

Your eyes widen and a chuckle slips out of you.

“Are you serious? First off, fuck you. Secondly, you have the nerve to act like you weren’t acting strange Sunday night? You barely said bye to me before leaving,” you tell him.

“I told you, I wasn’t feeling well,” Jax shoves his hands into his pockets of his coveralls and shrugs.

Opie starts backing away and disappearing in the background without saying a word. This is no longer about your car and he doesn’t want to be involved.

“Oh, really? You must have felt much better yesterday having a little joyride with your newest thrill of the week,” you reply.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jax shakes his head and shrugs. He didn’t even blink.

“Jax, you can cut the bullshit. I saw you and that blonde yesterday, making out at the red light!”

Jax shifts his weight, his eyes redirect themselves to the concrete ground. 

“Were you upset on Sunday because of what Luann asked me? About me staying or leaving for a new school?” you ask with arms crossed.

Jax lets out an exasperated sigh as he shifts his weight back to his other feet, looking away from you. His jaw twitches.

“And is that also why you went and buried your dick in someone else again?”

He scoffs, a smirk playing on his face.

“I don’t know if you did it to try to hurt me and put distance between us or if it’s your way to cope with your feelings, but if I’m going to be your girlfriend, this can’t keep happening,” you state.

“Girlfriend?” he chuckles and finally makes eye contact with you again. “Where’d you get that crazy idea from?”

You look back at him confused. You know the two of you technically never made it official, but he’s acting like you both didn’t have a conversation about it the other day.

“Oh, do you mean what we talked about last week? I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend. I asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he continues. 

“And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” he sneers.

You want to slap that smug look off his face.

“You must think your pussy is that special, huh?” he laughs.

This isn’t new to you. It’s all flowers and hand holding one day and then completely ghosting you the next. The constant back and forth, giving and taking, making you feel loved and then making you feel undeserving. And in all that, the real winner is blaming it all on you. It’s always your fault. You should have known better. Why did you piss him off? Look what you made him do. But you’re not going to let the responsibility fall on you for this one. Not this time.

“Fuck you, Teller!” You growl and stalk away.

***

After clocking out, you walk out to the parking lot, you find Jax leaning on the driver’s side of your car having a smoke. You walk towards it and stop at a comfortable distance and glare at him. He notices you and pushes himself off your car. It’s been about a week of silent treatment from the both of you since the falling out.

“Hey,” Jax greets and then tosses his cigarette.

“Hey,” you reply flatly.

“Can we talk?”

“About?” you huff with crossed arms.

“Can we do this somewhere private?” His mouth twists.

You look at him, thinking about what you want to do.

“We can swing by and pick up some sandwiches,” he suggests with the slightest smile playing on his lips.

“Jax, I don’t know if–”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said to you last time. You didn’t deserve that,” he cuts you off. 

You are a bit thrown off by his apology. 

“Did your moral compass steer you in the right direction again?” you ask sarcastically, wondering if he realized his behavior all on his own.

“Huh?” he asks, his brows knitted.

“Opie. I still don’t know how so completely different people are best friends,” you comment, your guard lowering a bit. “I don’t know if you realize he helps you out a lot.”

”Yeah, he’s a real one,” he nods, flashing a small smile. “That’s why he’s going to be my VP when the gavel gets passed down to me.”

“But no,” he shakes his head and then takes a step closer to you. “I know I fucked up and said some really fucked up things.”

He cautiously reaches out for your waist and pulls you in.

“I miss you.”

He leans in to kiss you, but you give him a gentle push, stopping him.

“No, Jax. That’s not how this works,” you tell him. “You can’t just do whatever you want, then apologize and assume everything is all good again.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, pulling back a bit. 

“I’m tired of getting punished for whatever Tara did to you,” you tell him. “And your jealousy problems especially when I’m not even your girlfriend.”

You notice a tick in his jaw. 

“You want to know what happened with me and Tara? Fine, I’ll tell you,” he states.

He gestures his head towards the clubhouse. You hesitate but then follow him. You and Jax end up on the roof where the two of you can have some privacy.

“Tara was the first girl I fell in love with and she broke my fucking heart when she left,” he starts to explain. “I really thought we were going to have this fairytale ending, just me and her against the world. She’d be my old lady while I run the club and we’d pop out a few kids, get a dog, white picket fence, the whole thing.”

He pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“She even talked about wanting to provide the life for our future children that she never got growing up but wanted. Her mom died when she was young, and her dad became a drunk. Still is, actually. I was going to take care of her, but it wasn’t good enough for her.”

He gently shakes his head as his jaw flexes again and a snarl starts forming. 

“Tara had nobody! I opened up my home, my club, my heart to her and how did she thank me? By leaving!” He barks.

“You have nobody!” your ex threw in your face. “Without me, you’d be nothing but a sad, pathetic little girl.”

“I wanted to hurt you before you could hurt me,” he confesses. “And that’s not fair to you.”

So the man does have a conscience and can be self-aware. You wonder what changed.

“I’m sorry.” He looks over at you and puts his hand over yours, squeezing gently. 

“I’m sorry, too. That you went through that heartache,” you sympathize.

“Can you forgive me?”

He seems sincere, but you’re taking it all in with a big grain of salt. You’ve heard this song and dance before too many times.

“Okay,” you finally nod and a smile splays across Jax’s face.

#Charlie hunnam #Charlie hunnam fanfiction #Jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller x female reader #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction

[h-c-u]

The kids are alright pt 3

Summary: You go into labor two weeks before the due date, while Ice is giving an interview on the live TV

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x reader

W/C: 4k

Rating: PG

TWs: Labor and all stuff that comes with it.

A/N: Sooo.... The baby is here :) And this chapter was inspired by that interrupted interview with prince Harry, when he was still in the military Also - someone asked me why I wasn't calling Bradley "Rooster", so I might address it here as well - it's because in this universe, he's not a pilot, so he didn't get that callsign yet :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist | List of tags | Part 4

- Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! - you almost fell over when you felt a contraction. At first, you thought that it was Braxton-Hicks, but they were getting stronger and stronger over the last hour... Or was it even more...? 

You were home alone, so the situation was less than ideal, but you didn't want to worry Ice, just in case it was nothing, because you knew he was doing an interview today. You also didn't want to call for an ambulance, because you felt like it would be an overshoot, and you definitely couldn't drive alone.

Another contraction came and you had to hold a kitchen counter as hard as you possibly could if you didn't want to fall.

- SHIT. FUCK. - weirdly, swearing helped a little, but when the pain retreated for a moment, you quickly dialed Bradley, because you knew that he had a day off. Since the memorable dinner, you two became much closer, and you treated him now as if he was your younger brother. That's why you sighed with relief when he finally answered. - Where are you...? - you were out of breath and he immediately realized that something was wrong.

- I'm actually on my way to you, I'll be there in like two minutes.

- Oh thank gods... You'll have to take me to the hospital, so don't even bother coming in. I'll be waiting outside... - you've said. Bag. There was an emergency bag prepared just for this occasion and you took it with you.

- Is everything ok? - you only groaned in response, because another contraction came.

- I'm... I think the labor started. - you've said through gritted teeth.

- Oh shit, it's early! - he sounded a bit panicked. - I'm pulling in... - he said when you were locking the door behind you. - I'm here, I'm here! - he run out of the car and was near you in less than a second, taking the bag from you, and offering you his arm, so the walk to the car would be easier. - How do you feel? - you only shot daggers from your eyes at him in response. - Not talkative today, got it. - he helped you get into the front seat and pushed it as far back as he could, while you disconnected the call between you two, and immediately called 911. - What are you...? - another killer look from you shut him up really quickly.

- Hello, My name is y/n Kazansky and I'm in labor. I will be in a blue Ford Bronco riding to St. Barts from the south, most likely over the speed limit. I don't know the exact route, but I would really appreciate not being... FFFFFFUUUUCKKKKKKKK!!!!! - you screamed while Bradley started the car and pulled out of your driveway. - Sorry about that. Contraction. I know it's not conventional, but we would really appreciate not being stopped or chased. - you saw the surprise on your temporary driver's face when he immediately started speeding up.

- I don't have any patrols in the area, but I'll relay the message. Wait... There is a firetruck coming down from the highway, I can ask them to escort you to the hospital. - the lady on the other end of the call was extremely helpful already.

- Yes! Thank you very much! - you tried to breathe as calmly as possible and not push yet, considering that your water didn't break.

- I will also let St. Barts know that you'll be coming, so the team will be ready for you. How far apart are your contractions? - she was surprisingly calm, but that must have come with the job; after all you couldn't just lose your temper answering the emergency calls.

- You're an angel. They started maybe two hours ago and are now 4-5 minutes apart. - you sighed with relief, while Bradley swirled harshly to the left.

- Just here to help, ma'am. Can you tell me how dilated you are?

- I can't exactly see and I'm not gonna ask the driver to look under my dress now... I'd rather just get there as soon as possible. I see the firetruck! - you exclaimed happily.

- That's good, I just got the confirmation that they noticed you too, so it shouldn't be too long until you'll be with your doctors. - she remained calm till the end.

- Thank you so much, really. I'm gonna hang up now because I have to call my husband and tell him what's going on. Thank you again.

- Happy to help, ma'am. Good luck! - you laughed in response and finally ended the call when the firetruck in front of you turned it's sirens on.

- I didn't know you could do that with emergency numbers... - Bradley mumbled under his breath, still in panic mode. - But good thinking! - you could only grab something and scream because another contraction came and almost knocked you out. - I'm so glad I won't have to give birth... - he realized what he said as soon as the words left his mouth. - No, no, no, no! I didn't mean it like that! I'll shut up now! - if looks could kill, you'd be currently in a car accident, because Bradley would have died behind the wheel.

You finally collected yourself enough to dial your husband's number and put your phone on speaker. And there was signal after signal; he wasn't answering. So you tried again. And again. Until you arrived at the hospital. Bradley jumped out of the car and helped moved you to a wheelchair, while your oby-gyn was checking how dilated you were.

- Thank you, guys! - you shouted at the firemen, who helped you get to the hospital in record time. Some of them waved at you, and a few gave you thumbs-up. - Hi doctor Montgomery! - you said when her hands were finally away from your... nether regions.

- Hi, y/n... I guess we're doing this early. Is Tom coming in? - she gave you a soft smile and took the latex glove off, while a nurse started wheeling you into the building.

- Bradley, grab my bag when you'll park the car! I'm in good hands! - you shouted behind you. Everything was happening so quickly that you had trouble processing what exactly was happening. - Honestly, doc... I don't know. He's doing... WAIT! - the nurse stopped immediately, and your doctor looked at you confused as you dialed another number on your phone. Someone crazy and maniacal enough to actually do what you'll ask. In the meantime, you pointed at the television in the waiting room, where your husband was currently speaking about the latest navy investment, 16 new choppers.

- MAV! You have no idea how happy I am you answered. How far you're from Tommy? - you asked; the nurse wanted to start moving again, but you swatted at his hand.

- I'm right there, why?

- Give him your fucking phone. Now.

- Now? He's on live TV... - he said cautiously.

- I know, I can see that. Do you honestly think that I would have asked if it wasn't imfuckING SHIT.... - another contraction came, and you felt your water finally breaking. Doctor Montgomery dove under your dress once again.

- Y/n, we have to move to a birthing room, you're 6cm dilated! - her voice told you there was no room for a discussion, and yet you still tried.

- One sec, doc! I promise! I'll be good, just let me tell him I'm in labor. - you saw Maverick showing up on the TV, whispering something in Tom's ear, away from the camera, and passing him the phone. - Tom! You got to come to St. Barts now if you don't want to miss the birth of our daughter. - you could see his face dropping on TV.

- Are you...? - he stuttered a bit, but you couldn't even savor this moment of him not being fully composed.

- I'm fine, Bradley drove me, my water broke, I'm 6cm dilated, and it's happening. Like right now. Little Ms. Kazansky decided to follow her dad's mantra that being early is on time, and on time is late. So get your ass here as soon as possible. - you were speaking faster than you thought possible, and yet he didn't have trouble understanding you.

- I apologize, there is an emergency. - you heard on the phone, and his lips followed with a slight delay on TV. You saw him taking off the mic, grabbing Mav by the elbow, and running toward the newest investment. You managed to catch the last sight of them actually entering one of the choppers before the view changed to someone in the studio. - I'll be there. - he said. - And now be good to doctor Montgomery. - you only laughed in response. - I'm hanging up now, because we're getting up in the air. I love you. - you couldn't help but smile.

- I love you too! - and now officially you could focus only on your labor. - You saw that dr. Montgomery? - you grinned, and the nurse started moving your wheelchair toward a birthing room again.

- I did! And if I'm being completely honest, that was impressive. Although I can't help but wonder where he'll land. - you laughed through pain. - Ok, let's get you out of that dress and into a gown... - she helped you get up and undress, and was ready with a hospital gown. She also helped you onto the bed.

- He's a fucking COMPACFLT, he'll figure something out. - you laughed, when you were finally in the correct position, while the nurses were attaching all EKGs and other stuff to you. - Sorry for the swearing, it actually helps with pain... - you mumbled, and leaned on the raised part of the beb. - I guess it's already too late for the epidural. - you savored those couple of minutes without any contractions.

- Unfortunately, yes. - dr. Montgomery put a drop of gel on your stomach and put a USG wand to it. She went silent for a moment, but eventually, she smiled. - Ok, everything looks perfect. She's in a perfect position, the umbilical cord is visible and out of the way, her heart rate is normal, and you're officially 7.5cm dilated. It looks like it's gonna be a quick one. - she explained and moved the USG machine out of the way. - Are you ready to do this...? - you heard a commotion outside of the room and Bradley's panicked and angry voice came through the closed door.

- You better let him in, because he honestly might break the door. - you laughed, avoiding replying to her question because you didn't want to start without your husband.

One of the nurses opened the door and Bradley almost fell to the floor.

- Y/N! Are you ok, what's going on? - he was holding your hand in an instant, but he chose a poor moment because another contraction hit you, and you couldn't help but squeeze your hands around his forearm as hard as you could. He let out a quiet squeal, but nothing more.

- I'm in labor. Without my husband next to me. That's what's going on! - you've said through gritted teeth.

- Y/N, she's crowning, you have to start pushing soon... - dr. Montgomery was serious, and yet your stubbornness wanted to fight her so badly. That was until you heard a chopper nearing the hospital.

- That's Ice and Mav, go get them! - you slapped Bradley's shoulder, and he followed your orders without even thinking of stopping and asking from where exactly he should get them. But that wasn't your problem now, because there was another contraction, and you really felt the need to push, but you did everything in your power not to... Just a few more minutes...

- Y/N, I'm serious, if you won't start pushing soon, you'll be putting your daughter in danger... - you looked at her worryingly and you clenched your jaw.

- He's gonna be here any second now... - you wanted to cry because you had a plan. And it just shattered to pieces. But you still were holding desperately to the most important part of it, and you just couldn't let it go. Not yet.

- I know, sweetie, I know... But when the next contraction comes, I really need you to push as hard as you can, ok? I'll let you know when that will be, but please be ready, ok...? - her tone of voice was kind and soft, and you finally nodded. - Great. I'm here for you, and Tom will be here before she'll be out, I can promise you that. - you smiled a bit and dried your forehead with your wrist.

- Ok. - you exhaled when the door to your birthing room slammed open and you saw Tom, who was currently more than out of breath and red in the face. You didn't even see Mav and Bradley behind him, completely focused on your husband, who basically teleported to your side.

- Contraction is coming... Are you ready...? - dr. Montgomery asked and you nodded, pulling your husband's arm close to your chest and holding it tightly, almost like a teddy bear. - Hi Tom. - she welcomed your husband but shushed the other two men from the room. It was a miracle that when the next contraction came, you didn't crush Tom's arm.

- Good, good! You're doing amazing! - the doctor smiled while checking the situation. - I can actually see the top of her ears now! Tom, if you want to, you can get behind Y/n on the bed, like we practiced. - you sighed heavily, too tired and in too much pain for expressing complicated emotions.

- I love you... - you whispered when Ice was behind you, and you leaned into his strong body, which relaxed you almost immediately; muscle memory working faster than your brain could. - And I'm really glad that you made it.

- I love you too... And we'll talk about everything later because Bradley mentioned something about a firetruck. - he chuckled and you couldn't help but join.

- Another contraction guys, be ready... - dr. Montgomery said, and Tom wrapped his arms around you and intertwined your fingers together, so you would have something to hold onto.

This time you cried because it was just too much... Your scream full of pain echoed in the small room, and you felt your husband's lips on your neck, which surprisingly helped. You leaned more into him, actively pressing against him with your whole body and you could feel his muscles tensing. You knew he was whispering something to your ear, but you were in too much pain to actually process what he was saying.

- And we have the head! - you couldn't help but laugh through tears because you knew the worst part was still ahead of you. The good thing was, that everything was happening so fast, your brain didn't have time to properly catch up to was happening, because you were still in managing the crisis mode. - Another contraction coming! - why the hell they were so close together!? And why the hell you didn't realize earlier that you needed to go to the hospital? You'd be all nice and numb, but instead, you were digging your nails deep into your husband's skin.

You didn't know where one scream ended, and another began because everything started blending together. There was a moment when you felt something cold being pressed to your forehead, and another to your lips, but you weren't sure who or why did that. It did help a little though.

- Ok, sweetie, one last time, the shoulders are almost out! - the promise in dr. Montgomery’s voice brought you down for just enough to focus on that one last push, and after the massive amount of pressure, there was almost an instant relief, and you heard your baby girl cry, which instantly made you sob.  You could also feel Ice shaking behind you. - Tom, do you want to get here and cut the cord? - you turned your head to look at him, and you could just tell that he didn't want to leave you alone even for a second.

- Doc...? I know we talked about it being 20-30 minutes, but I feel the need to push... Like NOW.

- Oh! Then push! Now! Is everyone ok with me cutting the cord? - both you and your husband nodded, and you started pushing again. This time it took less than a minute and your placenta landed in the intern's hands, while dr Montgomery was checking and measuring your daughter. - Damn, that was quick! I'm a little bit jealous, not gonna lie! - she came back and put your baby girl in your arms. - She's perfect, all fingers and toes present, she's 48cm tall and she weighs 3.1kg. Lungs are fully developed and everything else looks good. I would still like to run a few more tests later, just because she's here 2 weeks early, but in my professional opinion - she's gonna be perfect. - You were registering what she was saying, but your whole focus was on this beautiful baby girl in your arms. She wasn't crying anymore, just looking at you with beautiful silver eyes. You knew there was a chance that this color would change over the next couple of months, but they could also stay the same since they were almost a perfect copy of Tom's eyes.

- Hi... - you said softly, and gently touched her nose with your finger and she fussed a bit. - It's nice to finally see you face to face... - you whispered again, completely ignoring the nurses who were currently cleaning you up because it simply didn't matter.

- She's perfect... And you were amazing.... - Ice whispered directly into your ear, looking over your shoulder at your daughter. - She's so tiny... - he added and gently cupped her head

- Oh, she'll grow... - you couldn't help but laugh. Considering how tall Tom was compared to you, you were genuinely surprised that she wasn't bigger.

- Did you come up with a name...? - dr Montgomery asked while she was filling up your file, and you looked at your husband and smiled.

- Yes, yes we did... Astrea... - he said and hugged you just a bit tighter, and placed a small kiss on the top of your head.

- That's a very beautiful name... Now I know we talked about it in detail, but I'm just gonna repeat it one more time... Try to feed her in the next hour, and try to get as much sleep as possible. How is your pain? - dr. Montgomery asked while she finished your paperwork.

- It's... manageable, at least with all the endorphins... - you replied, still lost in your daughter's eyes.

- I'm going to prescribe you something for it, and the nurse should be here any moment to help you with everything. I'm gonna go now, but I will be checking on you. And if you'll need anything else, just ask the nurses to page me, all right? - she smiled at you and nodded. - Are you ok with visitors? - you nodded again, gently cleaning your baby's head and face with a towel. You knew it was best to wait with a bath for at least a day, but that didn't mean she would have to be covered with amniotic fluid for that time. She was so quiet and so well-behaved. She didn't cry, just moved her arms a little, and just looked at everything around the room with those beautiful silver eyes.

- Do you need anything, dove? - Tom asked from behind you, also completely enamored with this little creature in your arms. He just couldn't fathom how such a perfect little thing was his daughter.

- Just... Stay there, ok...? - you leaned into him more, and allowed your head to rest on his shoulder. You were sticky from sweat and tears, but none of you cared.

- I'm not going anywhere... - he laughed quietly, and you hummed feeling the familiar vibrations behind you, and they did wonders in making you feel safe. He gently moved your hair from your face, and you melted into his cold hand.

- Hey guyyysssss... - Bradley whispered, a bit afraid that if he said something louder, he might scare the baby.

- Hi... - you replied and beckoned both of them closer. - Meet Astrea... - you couldn't stop smiling when you put her head a bit higher, so they could see her better.

- Hi Astrea... - Bradshaw's voice was still barely a whisper - It's a pleasure to meet you...

- Actually... We have something to ask you, kid... - Ice said, while the younger man still couldn't take his eyes off your daughter. You talked about it in detail over the last month and agreed on that; you just didn't expect that would ask about it so quickly. - We would like you to be her godfather...

- Hmmm? - he hasn't processed the request yet, still completely focused on Astrea. It was fun to watch his face catching up to his thoughts. - Are you serious? - he finally looked at you, still convinced that it might have been a joke.

- We're serious. - you replied and gently squeezed his forearm. - We figured that Mav already will have his hands full with you, and considering what huge help you were during this last month, we know we can trust you, and that's what's most important. - you smiled at him and only now you noticed tears gathering in his eyes.

- Yes! Of course, I will be her godfather! - he finally raised his voice above a whisper, and Astrea immediately looked at him with her piercing eyes.

- Then it's settled... uncle Bradley... - only now you noticed that Mav also had trouble keeping his face straight.

Since that memorable dinner, you had a serious, almost 4h talk about this whole situation, and - if you were completely honest - you felt more like a therapist than a friend... And there were moments when he wasn't treating you seriously, because how could you understand such complicated circumstance. He wasn't entirely wrong... But fortunately in the end everything was dissected, and discussed, and you two made peace about your intervention.

- Whoa, a lot of people! Is mama ok with that? - the nurse came in and was instantly the focus of the room.

- More than ok, thank you. They're family. - you smiled at Mav, while he tried to discretely wipe the tears that gathered in his eyes. He hasn't said a word since he came in, and if you knew that seeing a baby would finally shut him up, you might have gotten one earlier.

- Ok then. - she replied with a giant smile on her face. - How do you feel about a shower, dear? - she asked, and you honestly couldn't think of a better proposition.

- I'd love that... Ice, do you want to take her...? - you asked, but you already knew the answer. Of course, he would. And he did without batting an eye, finally holding his daughter for the first time in his arms. The nurse helped you stand up and only now you realized how much everything hurt, and that there was fluid running down your legs. - Bradley, my bag? - you asked and he pointed at the armchair, where your purple bag was. 

- Are ok to take the shower alone, or would you like some help...? - the nurse asked, and you were far past any shame.

- Help would be great, thank you, because there is no chance I'm gonna reach everything. Also, doctor Montgomery was supposed to prescribe me something for pain...? - you've mentioned because you were slowly coming down from that high of endorphins that pushed you through the whole labor.

- I know dear, everything is ready. But in my opinion, it would be better if we waited with the IV after showering. Will you be able to wait till then? - you nodded, while you were taking your towel, toiletries, and your personal gown from the bag. - Ok, dad... Off the birthing bed, we're going to wheel it out and bring the regular one, with everything fresh. - the nurse offered you her arm for stabilization while she was bossing everyone else around, and as if she willed it into existence, two younger nurses came into the room and started quickly cleaning all the mess from the labor.

Before you entered the bathroom, you took one last look at your husband, in full uniform, now standing up and holding your daughter who looked tiny in his arms; you could have sworn that she was much bigger half an hour ago... Ice looked at you with a huge smile on his face and mouthed a short, soundless "I love you".

#my writing #TW: labor #Top Gun Fanfiction #Tom Kazansky fic #Tom Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky x reader #Tom Iceman Kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #🖤 #Pete Mitchell fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: only one more chapter until we start the second movie! (cough cough check the masterlist to see the titles of the next two chapters cough cough) i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: blood, death, bows and arrows, swearing, claustrophobia?, suffocation, near death experience, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Five- Demons

—-

You have never believed in fairy tales or monsters. You always believed in science, in what you knew. You believed in the power of the interest because you could touch your phone. You believed in the power of Pandora because you could feel the plants on your skin, the change in the air.

You believe that Jake and Neytiri love you, because you feel it in their touch and hear it in their words. You believe that they love you because they show it, and because some otherworldly part of you knows that they love you. That they always have, and always will.

So, when you watch Jake jump to the ground, shouting at Quaritch to give it up- and seeing the large metal figure whip around- you almost start to believe in demons.

Because you can see him, glass shattered and covered in blood, knife still dripping with a fresh kill.

You slink down further behind the tree you’re using for cover, staying close to the ground as you start to circle the perimeter of the clearing, of the battleground.

“It’s all over,” Jake pants, and you know that he wants to fight, that he looks ready.

You breathe heavily, peeking out from between the branches of a large bush. Quaritch flips the knife in his hands, and blood flys off of it, like some kind of sick joke of a firework.

“Nothing’s over while I’m breathing,” he hisses through the intercom. This sounds nothing like the man who taught you how to hold a knife properly, who told you stories of your father and who honored his promise to keep you safe.

The corner of Jake’s mouth turns into a sick smile. “I kind of hoped you’d say that,” he says, head tilted to the side.

There’s just barely a moment where no one moves, where the entire forest is still, watching with bated breath.

Then, Jake runs forward, grabs some broken piece of metal off the ground, spins in the air- unafraid, brave, the man you feel in love with- even while Quaritch runs forward. There is a determination in his movements.

He means to kill.

Jake grunts and swings out the piece of metal, and Quaritch’s knife hits it with a resounding clank. You use the moment to dive from one spot of cover to the next. This bush to that bush, a large tree next in your sights.

Another clank, grunts and metal moving renting the air. Another, and you make a quick run for it, panting behind the tree.

You take the moment to breathe as an opportunity to look at the fight, make sure he’s not hurt. He said not to blow your cover- to run around and get Neytiri, but you will risk all of it for him.

You gasp as Quaritch slams into the ground, wood splintering and flying through the air. He readies for another punch, but he must be eager now, because he overshoots and his metal body stumbles.

You cannot look at where he’s landed. You have to run, every instincts in your body is telling you to get to Neytiri. You inhale deeply, let it out sharply, and start to sprint from this tree to the next.

Suddenly, a triumphant shout fills the air. You can’t look at it, you can’t.

Then, cool metal closes around your waist.

“Y/N!” Jake shouts, and you scream, startled. You should have looked. You should have made sure.

But, you didn’t, and now this is the reality you must face.

And you’re tired, and you’ve already taken so many lives today.

Your breathes come fast, and you feel like with each deep and reckless inhale, the metal claws tighten around you.

“No, no, Jake,” Quaritch chides, the sound of his panting pourront out through the intercom. “You come closer- I kill your pretty girl.”

You want to scream, to tell him that he was friends with your father, that he can’t hurt you, but you feel like you’re choking on sand and crow. You should have made sure.

The claw tightens, and you let out a shout. Your feet kick wildly in this air, and you press your hands against the top of the claws, pressing down and trying to push yourself out of the jaws of death, the hands of the demon.

Jake’s jaw clenches.

“I… I’m gonna kill you,” he whispers, like it’s some big revelation delivered by Eywa herself.

“And I,” his voice is a taunt, “am gonna remind you of what you truly are. A human. Time to wake up.”

With you in hand, with one stay tear falling down your face, he turns toward the link room, and words spill from your lips, realizing what he plans.

“No! No, please, please, don’t-”

He squeezes so tight your air is cut off for a second. Whether you truly can’t breathe, if you’re just shocked- you don’t know. All you know it that you cannot breathe, and you slam your fists against the metal, and he loosens ever so slightly. As is reminded you are a real person, that he could kill you.

You watch as he punches the window.

He reaches in, towards the nearest bed, slams his fist down and opens it- but it’s empty.

He move’s towards the next window, the next link pod- where you are. You gasp, but don’t dare plead with him again, until you can hear the faint sound of feet landing.

You hear glass shatter.

When you look to the side, the piece of jagged metal Jake has been using to fight with is buried into the glass. It’s so shattered you can’t see if the man inside is dead or alive, but the metal claw around you, controlled by him, loosens and you’re falling.

You shout as you hit the ground, but it was a long drop, and you had just enough time to ready yourself into a good position.

You hear Jake drop down next to you, and for one moment, it’s silent. You think- you think you’ve won, that the metal machine will fall down soon, that the demon will be gone.

Then, the glass pops off and into the air, soaring over the link room and crashing against the ground. More glass, more metal, more destruction.

Jake pushes you behind him, clearly not expecting him to still be alive- the metal must not have gone in far enough.

When he turns, he has an oxygen mask on and murderous look in his eyes.

“Neytiri!” Jake shouts, pushing you behind him, towards her- and you hesitate for just a moment as Jake jumps onto him again, knife in hand.

Your feet hitting the ground seem to echo in your ears, until you fall to your knees. You feel like you’re leaving your body. Your ears start to ring, you can barely breathe- and then you’re staring at the white ceiling of a link pod.

Your eyes widen and you just want to get back to where you belong, so you force away the panic and the fear, gasp once before squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, as quick as you were there, you’re back.

Your ears don’t ring, and when you stand and start running again- your footsteps don’t echo like there’s a person stomping on your head.

You reach her in a matter of moments, brow smeared with sweat, pushing hard on the palulukan that is laid out over her legs.

When you se it up close, the animal that killed your father, it’s different. From far away, you could handle it. But up close, so close-

“She is dead,” Neytiri breathes, stopping her escape for one moment. “She is dead. She can’t hurt you. Nothing can hurt you.” You stay silent, staring at the animal’s closed eyes. “Y/N!” she yells, and you straighten, feeling guilty and horrible.

The texture of the palulukan is not what you imagined. It’s smooth, besides for the scars of life in the forest.

You push and she does too, grunting as her legs scrape against the tree trunk she is trapped against, and you want to take away her pain- but in this hellscape, surrounded by demons and their death, you can’t.

You grunt, and then she is out. She leaps over the fallen tree, picks her bow up off of the ground, and readies an arrow as quick as lightning. Your ears start to ring again, your footsteps echo as you trial behind her, but you keep going.

You watch as she waits for and opening- until her arrow cuts through air and sinks through flesh.

You can hear the gasps from here. His eyes fix in your direction, and he drops Jake, who falls limp to the ground. Another arrow, her string pulled back-

until you aren’t there anymore.

—-

You wake up with a gasp, throwing open the heavy metal door, swinging your legs over the side.

You lock eyes with Jake as you lean against the wall, the effects already starting to get to you. You don’t brother wasting air to say his name. You don’t bother a goodbye, because you refuse to let this be one.

He is already on the floor, wheelchair pushed away far away. You can’t even open your mouth. You can barely even open your eyes. Jake’s eyes are already drooping, and just as you reach the box for the emergency masks- his eyes close.

You make a sound that might be his name, gasping once, before reaching the box and throwing open the plastic covering. You throw one mask to the floor, keep another in your hands, falling to your knees next to him because you can’t even support your own weight anymore.

You place the mask on his face just as Neytiri’s feet slam against the metal floor. You want to look at her, but you don’t, trying to engage the mask. Air hisses faintly.

You gasp once as she approaches you, before you slump against the wall, not able to move anymore. You’re hyperventilating. The forest is killing you.

“My Y/N!” Neytiri shouts, grabbing the mask from the floor and placing it over your face. The palm of her hand is the size of your entire face, and maybe if you weren’t dying you would laugh.

Tears fill your eyes as the air hisses faintly, and Jake sits up with a gasp. You need to engage the mask. You can’t move your arms.

It’s funny, that you should die like this, when you have every means to stop it but you just can’t.

He breathes heavily before his eyes whip over to you.

“Fuck!” her shouts, diving forward and pressing the mask into your face, engaging it, and you never thought you would miss air as much as you did.

The two of you both take deep breaths for one moment.

Then, a wide smile crosses Jake’s face, and you can’t help but return it. It seems like he wants to laugh, but doesn’t quite have the air to do so yet.

He turns to Neytiri, almost as if to say “this is who I am. This is who you See.”

“I See you,” Jake says, reaching forward and placing one of his hands on Neytiri’s face, the other on the side of your neck.

She smiles fondly, like she’s still your teacher and he has just passed her last test. Maybe he really has.

“I See you,” she breathes, placing her hand over his own. She turns to you, watching fondly as you take another few deeps breaths, not quite ready to speak.

You almost died. It almost feels- wrong that you’re alive. But maybe just in this body.

“I have always Seen you,” Neytiri whispers, and then she presses a kiss to the top of your head.

And maybe you are a demon, maybe Jake is too. Maybe you should have died, you deserved to. But you are alive right now, and you can feel their love and you just know it.

“I See you,” you say back. You are a wildfire and a demon all in one. You are you.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai @rosymccheese @itszzmoon @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lovekeeho @ducks118 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @milf-lover-23 @the-wandering-pan-ace @scaredknight

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading @thatratprincessforever @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sillyblues @buttercup-beeee

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

[talshiargirlfriend]

Don’t mention it.

Here is an estrangement vignette that literally no one asked for.

Follows an Unnamed Disaster. Could be set between Home and Kir’Shara (or elsewhere per your imagination) Read it on ao3

Commander Tucker steps onto the bridge, the emergency lighting a glaring reminder of how much work remains to get the ship functional again. Travis Mayweather has a knitted cap pulled over his ears and a grim expression on his face as he sits in the center seat. He makes to stand, “Sir-”

Trip waves him off. “Just passing through, Travis. You hold onto the hot seat. So to speak,” he adds wryly.

Travis gives him a look. Damage across multiple systems has made maintaining any sort of climate control outside of Sickbay impossible for the time being. Engineering is hotter than the Forge while the bridge feels like Andorian spring.

“She in there?” Trip jerks his head toward the command centre.

“The Fortress of Solitude,” Travis nods with a show of his usual good humor, and Trip chuckles in appreciation.

T’Pol looks up from the array of damage and casualty reports, star charts, repair projections, and god only knows what else she’s poring over when he enters the room. Two mostly empty mugs lie neglected on one side of the table.

“Commander,” she greets him. The coral velour collar of her catsuit peeks out over the neck of her Starfleet jumpsuit. She also has a silver crew jacket layered over the top. Unlike most of the bridge crew she has chosen to forgo wearing a hat, leaving her flushed ear tips visible. The effect should be comical, but somehow she still looks compelling.

“Hey.”

“How is the captain?”

“Better,” Trip answers slowly. “Awake. And grumpy. I think Phlox might release him to quarters this afternoon just to get a bit of peace.”

They share an amused glance.

“How about you? When’s the last time you actually took a break?” He raises his eyebrows.

Her eyes dart away from his. “Ensign Sato brought me tea,” she deflects softly.

After a pause, T’Pol changes the subject, “It is warmer on this deck this morning.”

“Huh. Maybe a little.”

She looks at him sharply. “I wasn't aware Climate Control was back online.”

Trip laughs darkly, “Oh, it’s not… but I needed to vent some heat from the plasma relays on B Deck and gave it a little redirect. No sense in you freezing your ass- asses off up here. Win-win.”

T‘Pol stiffens, “I am perfectly capable of enduring–”

“I know that! I know. But it really was useful, and…” he sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Whatever we are - or aren't, I’m still gonna care about you. Maybe you shouldn't always have to endure things just because you can.”

She looks at him with those big sad eyes, and suddenly Trip is grateful for the space between them and the solid obstacle of the table to prevent him from doing something they might both regret. Or, possibly worse, might not regret.

He swallows and tries for a light tone, “Maybe it’s a human thing, but sometimes the best way to work out how to solve a problem is to think about something else for a while.”

T’Pol glances at the stacks of PADDS in front of her, then closes her eyes and nods, “I believe I understand.”

“Speaking of solving problems,” he says as he steps behind her to activate the wall screen. “I believe I've worked out how to get propulsion and sensors both back online ASAP.”

Trip talks her through his plan, having already anticipated most of her questions and objections. Arguing through all the details is second nature to them, the rhythm safe and familiar.

When she flicks back to a previous schematic, their fingers brush together.

Oxygen makes itself scarce.

Neither of them moves for a few heartbeats.

T’Pol recovers first and withdraws her hand to grasp its mate behind her back.

“Commander, this is incredibly impressive work.”

“‘Incredibly impressive’ eh? Careful, T’Pol, or people will start to think you like me,” Trip overshoots his teasing mark wildly, and it tastes like boot leather.

T’Pol wrings her hands - a gesture she has picked up from her human crewmates.

“Commander - Trip, everyone in this room already knows how I feel about you.” Her voice is as low as a whisper, weighed down by all she can’t say.

He clears his throat, but his voice still sounds hoarse, “Yeah.”

“I, uh - I should go get things moving.”

“Agreed.”

T’Pol removes her jacket and places it carefully on the back of her chair. “Trip … thank you.”

“Don't mention it.”

They don’t.

#star trek enterprise #trip x t'pol #fanfic #my fic #angst #sorry #trip tucker #t’pol #someone is in a moody mood #trying to pry some words loose

[9w1ft]

OKAY now HOLD UP

😌 i have to start off with a recap of the facts. because this is what the pavement looked like in 2014/2015

and this is what the pavement looked like in 2018/2019, when she was posting photos of it a lot, and how i assume she tries to refer to it in this video:

this vogue video is like the funniest way for her to tell the story about the pavement because

this is something that she says is her and her husbands living history, something that makes them rooted and loyal to the neighborhood, right? and yet when she goes to point out the J+K of it all somehow she magically can’t find it?

BUT we do know she’s not talking about something other than the pavement that we know and love, because she’s actually very close! she overshoots the location by just a handful of steps.

the pavement was in front of a bar named oficina latina that closed during the pandemic and got replaced by a rothy’s (which you can see in the clip) —it’s unclear to me but i’m almost 100% sure the whole thing got paved over in late 2021 when rothys moved in.

she says he wrote J+K, which is funny because karlie has posted herself standing atop the graffiti multiple times on instagram over the years and, when it did say something like that it was 2018 and the graffiti in that state reads J+KK.

but we know the J was added in later, into a new slab of pavement, when the graffiti was mysteriously cut in half (read me theorize about when here). as i mentioned above, our earliest photo of the pavement is from early september 2014 and there definitely wasn’t a J right next to the KK!!

↓ please read the OG post to look at what it was ↓

so to reiterate, karlie just shared that her loved one wrote their initials in the pavement AS WE HAD GUESSED. it wasn’t a found sentimental object for karlie. AND, karlie has affectionately posted from this place years before a J was even next to the KK, back when the pavement looked like this:

and so, this above configuration of the pavement is what makes her (present tense! makes her!!) feel rooted and loyal to the neighborhood.

which neighborhood??

#paved paradise #tiktok if you talk about it please credit me @9w1ft and @polly1119 thank you 😭 #kaylor

[familyvideostevie]

𝟭𝟮 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀: 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 

day eight: ice skating with eddie | fluff, 1.3k 12 days of christmas masterlist

It's Eddie who convinces you that it's a good date idea. 

"I'll hold your hand so you don't fall," he assures you when you arrive at the ice skating rink. It's pretty large, put up by some Hawkins community organization on a patch of land that is usually baseball field. The siding looks a little haphazard, sure, and you have to bring your own skates -- Steve lent you both some pairs he found in his garage -- but everyone is laughing and the sun is shining despite it being bitterly cold and you like the idea of holding Eddie's hand for a few hours. 

"Why didn't we ask any of the kids to come, again?" you ask as you plop down on a bench to lace up your skates. They're a little big but you're wearing two pairs of socks. 

"I'm getting real tired of Henderson making gagging noises every time I kiss you," Eddie grumbles. You suspect he just doesn't want to fall on the ice in front of his younger friends. Your boyfriend is goofy, kind, and intimidating all at once, but he's got his moments of pride. You lean over and press a sloppy kiss to his pink cheek. 

"That's rich coming from him," you say, finishing your laces and tying them in a double-knotted bow. "Considering he and Suzy talk for hours. I mean, seriously, what is there to talk about?"

"We talk for hours," Eddie says, pouting. You lean close, his curtain of hair tickling your cheeks as he finishes his own tying. 

"No, we spend hours together but talk for a little and then make out and maybe have sex and then take a nap and then talk again." Eddie laughs, a booming, obnoxious sound that attracts attention but makes you smile. You curl a hand around his knee. 

"And it's a damn good routine," he says. "Alright, let's tear up this ice, huh?" He stands from the bench and immediately wobbles a little. You reach out to grab his arms but he's still grinning. "Just checking that you're paying attention," he says.

"Yeah, sure." You roll your eyes and grab his hand tightly before you shuffle to the edge of the rink. "Don't let go of me, okay?" you ask him. There are a few kids racing around the rink like they were born on it, some other couples moving along slowly, and a few teenagers actually doing jumps. You're more than a little intimidated even though you know you can skate. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he says as he steps off of the plank boards and onto the ice. "Shouldn't be too hard, right? You just push--" Eddie overshoots his push, or he trips, or something, but he almost drags you down and you haven't even moved. 

"Eddie," you gasp. "Let's switch sides, okay?" You deftly skate around him so that he's able to hang on to the edge of the rink and he looks at you with wide eyes.

"How the hell did you do that?" he asks. 

"Do what?"

He waves his free hand in the air and sputters. "You just...you skated! I thought you hadn't skated before!"

"That's not what I said," you mumble, grabbing his hand out of the air and holding it firmly. "I said I hadn't skated herebefore. I used to skate on a pond near my house when I was a kid, though."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters. "Okay, well you make sure I don't fall, then." 

You show him how to make ovals with his skates, feet going apart then coming back together, which takes you about halfway around. He eventually lets go of the barrier and starts to naturally push off without thinking about it. 

"You're a pro, Munson," you tell him. "Quick learner!" His face is pink and you're not entirely sure if it's from the chilly air or your praise. Probably a bit of both. 

"I can't believe actual children are skating circles around us," he says. "I really didn't think it would be that hard."

"Well, you have other skills," you assure him. You tuck in close to his side and bring your lips to his ear. "Plenty of other skills. I mean, we both know what those hands can do."

What happens next seems to go in slow motion. He smirks at you and opens his mouth to say something but his skate hits a pockmark in the ice and his eyes widen before you realize what's going to come next. He waves his arms in the air and careens backwards, thudding on the ice so hard you wince. He sprawls on his back and you're worried that he hit his head.

"Fuck," he hisses, eyes closed, and you're on your knees next to him in a flash. People continue to skate around you but you know if he's really hurt they'll stop to help you. 

"Eddie!" you say, hands on his chest. "Eddie, are you okay?" You're panicking needlessly, but you can't help it. Eddie seems to get hurt constantly, from welts when a guitar string snaps to pinched skin and blisters from his work at the garage, and you hate it. You want to encase him in bubble wrap and tuck him safely away so the world stops being hard on him. 

He inhales once and you feel his heartbeat on your palm. "Yeah," he groans, then his eyes pop open and he grins. "Hey, you look really pretty from this angle." His ringed hand comes up to bump your chin and you sigh exasperatedly. 

"Did you hit your head? It sounded like you fell hard." He shifts so that he's sitting up, the hand that tapped your chin moving to rest heavy on the side of your neck. You feel the cold from the ice start to seep through the knees of your jeans. 

"Nah, I don't think so. You look cute when you're worried, though." If he didn't compliment you all the time you'd be concerned he was concussed. 

"You're giving me wrinkles, Eddie Munson," you tell him sternly. He gets on one knee and you slowly, carefully pull him up. 

"Just don't worry so much." He doesn't look sorry at all for your suffering. 

"It's not that easy!" you huff. "You're my boyfriend and you have a propensity to hurt yourself and you clearly can't skate for shit."

He smiles at you and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. "Big word, sweetheart. Propensity." His lips are warm on your skin and his tone makes your stomach flip.

"Let's get off this rink before you actually injure yourself." You wrap an arm around his waist and slowly guide him back to the little door to the planks. 

"It did kinda hurt, actually," he says. "My ass is sore."

"And what do you want me to do about it?" you grumble. He pinches your hip and you yelp but keep you both upright.

"Oh, you know what I want you to do about it," he says softly, right against the shell of your ear. 

"That's enough from you, Munson," you say. He laughs and you smile at the sound like you always do. Eddie's laugh is warm, genuine, and contagious. You're so close to the exit when he tugs on a lock of your hair. 

"Hey, hold up," he says. You want to get him off the ice but you bring both of you to a stop. 

"What?" you ask. 

He turns you so you're looking directly at each other and he snakes his hands up to cup your face. "Sorry for scaring you," he says. 

"Are you really?" 

"No," he says. "But still." You sigh. "How about a kiss, huh?" he asks you. 

You roll your eyes at his boyish behavior but lean in and he kisses you softly, sweetly. And then it becomes less so, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips and then you part them and he --

He almost falls, taking you down with him. "Jesus Christ, Eddie!" You manage to right both of you and smack his chest lightly. He laughs again, but you keep a frown on your face. "Off the ice, now. Or...no more kissing!"

He's suddenly very serious about getting off the rink. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

[the-bar-sinister]

Saturday Morning S.T.A.R.S: The Animated Series

Episode 17: Mini-golf Madness

A-plot: Despite warnings of stormy weather, Chris, Barry, Jill and Wesker go minigolfing on their day off to settle a bet between Chris and Wesker.

B-plot: New recruit Rebecca is in the office manning the phone lines, and dealing with increasingly ridiculous antics of the RCPD.

Act one:

Rebecca comes into the office and reads notes on procedure left by Wesker. Turning on the radio she hears a weather report about a massive thunderstorm warning for Raccoon city later that afternoon.

Under a grey sky, Chris, Barry, Jill and Wesker show up at the Raccoon City Family Fun Center Mini-golf course.

Barry insists on bringing his real golf clubs from home and is bragging about his swing.

Jill is giggling and excited talking about how she hasn’t been to Mini-golf since she was a kid.

Meanwhile Chris and Wesker are deadly serious about the competition to a ludicrous degree.

In the background of the course we see another family golfing with their young, disruptive son.

In the office, Chief Irons tells Rebecca to turn off the damned radio and get serious. Flustered, she turns it off, only to get a call from downstairs, the RCPD officers want her to order them some pizzas.

Act two

The golf teams are Wesker and Jill vs Chris and Barry.

Barry is a total show off, talking up how much he knows about the game but comically overshoots every hole, or has his swing disrupted by hazards.

Jill turns out to be an absolute ace at Mini-golf, promoting Chris to playfully call her a traitor and demand to know her secret. Wesker jokes about having her ‘specially enhanced’ for the mission.

The kid with the golfing family is messing around, forcing his parents to chase after him.

At the S.T.A.R.S office Rebecca is juggling calls from RCPD officers hazing and taking advantage of her. We see her grow increasingly frazzles and frustrated, running around the department, cleaning up spills, finding lost keys, accepting pizza deliveries etc. Meanwhile the phone won’t stop ringing.

At the golf course the teams are neck and neck going into the final hole, which is an enormous, elaborate set piece styled like Castle Dimitrescu.

Over the last few scenes it’s started to rain, but Chris and Wesker insist to keep playing. Thunder rumbles. They have to use their police clout to be allowed to stay while the Center closes.

As the center closes, the father of the golfing boy is seen talking to the course staff, saying that he can’t leave because his son ran off and vanished.

Chris and Wesker stop bickering momentarily as the pay attention to the conversation about the missing boy.

The storm picks up and a strike of lightening hits the fake castle. There’s a scream. Everyone looks up to see the missing boy in the top of the castle– which has caught on fire

Act three

Chris and Wesker put aside their grudge match to rescue the boy in danger.

The team works together, despite not having their equipment, to find a way to scale the burning building and rescue the kid.

Chris grabs a hold of the child, but it looks like they’re both going to be hit with falling debris, only to be pushed out of the way by Wesker at the last second.

At the RCPD, an officer tries to get Rebecca to clean the men’s room for him. She finally has had it up to here and let’s off a little tirade before playfully whacking him with a plunger and stomping back to the office.

Returning the child to his parents, Chris and Wesker agree that the bet has ended in a tie– for now.

Jill calls them both ridiculous, but is seen bandaging Wesker’s burns with a sigh.

Barry laments that he wasn’t able to show them his hole in one.

Final scene

The crew comes into the office the next day. Wesker and Rebecca each ask one another how the day went, and both claim to have had a completely normal day.

S.T.A.R.S. says!

Standing around the coffee machine in the office, Chris and Wesker explain to the audience that competition is all well and good, but not to let it go too far. Be a good sport, and make sure you’re never in a situation that will get someone hurt!

#albert wesker #barry burton #Chris Redfield #Jill Valentine #rebecca chambers #resident evil #s.t.a.r.s. #stars cartoon au #stars the animated series

[queen-tashie]

Seven Snips, Seven people

I was tagged by @mrbexwrites and you can see her post here.

How-to: Post seven Snippets, from different stories or the same, it's up to you. Tag seven people to play next.

Gently tagging: @sleepyowlwrites, @roselinbooks-official, @merriweather-the-un-merri-writer, @whicheverwarrior, @isabellebissonrouthier, @sky-jump, and @sarahlizziewrites, and an open tag for anyone that wants to join in.

Snips are below the cut. I put a special excerpt for the 7th one :)

Enjoy! :D

Part of the opening scene from The Quiet Forest (cw mild violence):

Runnicka hated this game he played. He always waited for her to strike first. So that’s exactly what she was going to do. She swung her sword wide, baiting him to block it. Before their blades connected, she pulled hers back, letting Zharan overshoot. Thump. Another point for her. Her heart raced as she tied the score again. She exhaled. Now was not the time to lose focus. But something changed as they stepped back from each other. Zharan smirked and his stance deepened, like he was about to launch himself toward her. That smug smile was unnerving, but she had to keep the pressure on. She started forward with the tip of her blade then retreated, hoping to trick him into the offensive again. It worked, but he attacked faster than she anticipated. Runnicka swung her sword, aiming for his chest, but he ducked under the clumsy attack. He stood inches away from Runnicka as her sword passed over him. Her jaw slammed shut and her head snapped back as Zharan hit her with an uppercut on the chin. She hit the ground, clutching her jaw and gasping for air. A leather-guarded sword tip touched her neck.

2. Later scene from The Quiet Forest (cw mild violence):

“Are we safe?” She asked between heaving breaths, slowing her run. “I think we did it, for now.” Xaerena was just as winded. They got low in the grass to conceal themselves, watching behind them as they caught their breath and massaged their calves. They had no weapons, no supplies, and no map. Soon they were moving again, staying low in what little cover they had. Xaerena crept behind her, her footsteps soft but audible. “Wait, did you hear that?” asked Runnicka. She paused and so did Xaerena. The footsteps continued from behind them. Her eyes widened. “Xaerena, run!” Runnicka started forward but was jerked backward when a strong hand grabbed her collar. The fabric of her shirt ripped a little from the force. Two hunters tackled Xaerena to the ground. She went limp on the impact. “Xaerena!” A jolt of fear went through Runnicka. It was the last thing she remembered before being hit over the head.

3. Part of the opening scene from Copper Frames (no cw):

She pulled on the bronze handle of the front door. The satisfying pops and whooshes of letter pods in the pneumatic tubes sounded off around the room as they went to and from their destinations. The glass tubes lined the walls and ceiling of the large open room. In one tube a pod was caught, and a trained rat scurried through the tube to dislodge it while the handler waited at the maintenance hatch. People lined up in the centre of the room following the painted lines on the floor, called over one by one to each open clerk. Amelia shuffled forward after the person in front of her, watching the lightning fast letters fly past.

4. Later scene from Copper Frames (cw kink/bdsm mention):

“I’ve only had this rash for a few weeks,” said Oleksandra, stilling herself. “I knew I shoulda asked that guy if he was clean.” “Clean? As in if he had any STIs?” “Yeah, exactly,” she said. "Said the bruises were from some BDSM party he went to. Bastard."

5. Scene from a portal fantasy flash fiction I wrote three years ago (and have yet to edit). These characters are goblins btw. Kings of Nothing (no cw):

He rolled up his sleeve, uncovering his bracer. The iron ball bearing he touched was warm, ready to release a portal into his world. He moved the gears within the bracer in a specific way. His muscle memory could still recall the movements he’d made when he opened the portal that released the demon. Each portal was a unique sequence of movements. Most of them he’d forgotten, but that was one he would never forget. He tried something similar to what he’d done the night before, but a little different. An orange portal opened before him in the dark of the cave. The light was bright and hurt his eyes when it appeared. He squinted and stepped through. Behind him the sound of feet running on stone approached him. Dega was about to close the portal when his neighbour, Tul, lunged through the portal, reaching for the bracer.

6. Scene from my short story The Diver (on AO3!) (cw blood, thalassophobia, shark attack)

The two divers behind her shrieked, rushing past her on their way out. As Andi turned to see what had made them flee, something cut her arm. She clutched the wound and faced her attacker. She could hardly process what she was looking at. It was a creature the size of one of her chickens. It had human like arms clutching a tiny polearm, the length of a kitchen knife. Its bottom half was dolphin-like, but it was covered in scales. Seaweed-like tendrils floated around its horrible face. It bared its teeth and threatened to cut Andi a second time before she fled the wreck after them. In front of her, the other two divers were leaving thin trails of blood as they made for their diving bells. One of the sharks turned rapidly, aiming towards a bleeding diver. It bit into his side and he thrashed until he went limp. Andi’s eyes went wide.

7. Finally, I've decided to include a very, very rough (outlined, not even really drafted) excerpt from a non-fiction I'm writing, which is an ADHD cookbook! Technically a story if you read between the lines XD (no cw):

Kitchen Cleaning/Organizing Tips Do some dishes in the time between steps Put thing where you’re going to use them (hot plates by the counter, knives by the cutting board, spices by the stove, vegetables in the door of the fridge so they go bad less often) Meal prep doesn’t have to be entire meals. Pick a day you have the energy to make a large batch of something – boiled eggs, grated cheese, cooked chicken, etc. DO NOT substitute wax paper for parchment paper ever. Wax paper is not meant to be heated.

#my writing #excerpts #writing #writeblr #the quiet forest #copper frames #kings of nothing #the diver #adhd cookbook

[clavissionary-position]

gilbert + dining-out headcanons

WARNING: light sexual content

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS PLEASE DNI

Reservation? All Gilbert has to do is be sighted walking up to the entrance and the restaurant staff are tripping over themselves. Maybe this is why Gilbert prefers to enter establishments through doors unknown even to the staff. No matter how you parse it it's not normal for someone to know random building layouts on this level.

Gilbert holds your chair out for you like a "gentleman", but there are one or two extended pauses before and after, as if he's not used to sincerely doting on someone. Etiquette-on-command is one thing, and certainly something he has mastered from how you've seen him behave at events. When you're the recipient though, he wants to remember how to be human again, and it's a lot more difficult than you'd think.

You're a little chilly while waiting for the food. After a minute you're shivering and readjusting your posture every few seconds. You hope Gilbert won't notice, but he's already taking off his coat for you. You immediately protest, because he'll be even colder without it. He presents a most dangerous smile and invites you over to his side where you both proceed to be relatively warm and relatively toasty together.

You try to get off his lap when the food starts arriving but he keeps you there with that usual unexpected show of strength.

"This isn't exactly what you're supposed to do at restaurants," you answer before he can even ask.

He looks at you with amusement glittering in his eye. "Is that so? That's not what I've heard." Said before practically swallowing your cheek in a sucking kiss. You have to throw your menu up to keep the server from seeing.

It's not until the servers are appending a second table to yours that you realize that Gilbert has already ordered half of the entire menu, having paused only because the lobsters in the tank summoned him to ogle their majesty.

You're bent over beside him when he asks: "What do you think their names are?"

"…?"

"Hahaha. Of course it's not like they've named themselves, but I want to know what you'd name them. I'll tell you my picks too, of course."

It's such an innocent request, but you don't entirely know what to make of it. "It feels weird naming them when they're about to be eaten."

"Is it? Humans name other humans even though they all die in the end." The way he uses the word they catches you off-guard, but he's already listing off his lobster names before you can say anything more.

The lobsters in Gilbertland all have lives and spouses and jobs. His favorite is the runty one that he believes has the grit to survive the outside of the tank. Then he proceeds to order that very lobster. "I'll eat it if you won't."

Back at the table: "I'd like to order off the secret menu,"

"I'm sorry, Sir, we don't have a secret menu."

Gilbert smiles. "Sure you do." He holds up his phone which is open to a Reddit thread. The server can no longer feign innocence and he walks away with about a decade taken off his life.

Gilbert's table manners are impeccable, to the point where you're consciously waiting for him to mess up. He never does. You, however overshoot your mouth with your fork, and Gilbert has to fix your mistakes with his tongue. Up goes the menu again.

He does not hesitate to comment on every dish. His opinion is honest, informed, and sometimes scathing. But he eats everything placed in front of him and makes sure you have ample try of it too. If there's something he especially likes, he all but stuffs it into your mouth in his eagerness to share. He asks you your opinion on the food too, and asks follow-up questions to get the most accurate picture. You start to wonder if he just likes the sound of your voice.

Gilbert seems like he's having a blast, and while you're not exactly sure how you can tell, he seems relaxed in a way that he isn't in other settings. When you point this out, he looks at you with his surprised sprite expression, then snuggles you closer on his lap and buries his face in your neck. By now the other restaurant-goers have just accepted that this is how you two sit and dine.

It's around the time that you're both sniffling from the cold that you decide it's probably a good time to ask for the check. That and all the food is comfortably inside Gilbert. There's not a scrap left. The only indication you have on the amount Gilbert tips is the fact that the server looks like he's gained +50 years to his lifespan.

You're leaving the restaurant, still sharing a coat, listening to the way Gilbert's humming entwines with the night-air, when you realize that the lobster Gilbert ordered was never delivered to the table. Also you've accidentally stolen the menu.

img src 1 2

I'm gonna cry when someone tells me "oh yeah Gilbert hates seafood" or "oh yeah seafood will kill Gilbert", but I have plausible deniability in the fact that the lobster never made it to the table. SURVIVE, LOBSTER-KUN. SURVIVE.

#ikepri gilbert #ikepri headcanons #ikepri #atelier writes ikeseries #ikepri gilbert x reader #ikepri lobster-kun #h c . ikepri #p o s t . original

[jimblejamblewritings]

yes, i’m a squib | part 12.

Summary: Y/N Black has always been a squib, to the dismay of her pureblood family. Cast out to the orphanage at a young age, she thought that was her life. Until her relative Sirius Black breaks out of Azkaban. Suddenly a letter to Hogwarts in thrusted into her hand and Y/N becomes a true part of the magical Wizarding World.

Warnings for the Series: violence, death, light smut, angst, fluff

Pairing: harry potter x black!reader, cedric diggory x black!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Putting Hogwarts’ best foot forward meant everyone had to be dressed in their complete uniforms— minus the cloaks. You also had to sit with your table so for once you weren’t eating dinner with the rest of the golden quartet. You all sat straight up in anticipation as you waited for your visiting students. Dumbledore’s voice echoed through the Great Hall as he announced Baeuxbatons. A bunch of girls in very beautiful blue uniforms came through the large doors.

You realized that not all the girls were of age to enter the competition— you were sure that some were in your year. They started doing something that you could describe between a brisk run and skipping. Every so often they stopped to release a plethora of butterflies that matched their blue uniforms. You rolled your eyes when practically all the boys started drooling. It was like the Quidditch World Cup all over again— only worse because at least the girls could act like they weren’t checking out the Beauxbaton girls’ backsides when they ran past.

You would say that you and the other girls got your small, petty revenge when Durmstrang suddenly burst through the doors but the problem was that you weren’t checking out any of the boys at all. You were, however, trying to figure out if they weren’t hot in the cloaks they were wearing as they bounced wooden staffs on the floor— emitting sparks— and tumbled through the Great Hall. You were positive that Ron was probably drooling more over Viktor Krum being there than he was at any of the Beauxbatons girls. The visiting students, while sleeping and taking classes separately, were supposed to eat every meal with Hogwarts students. Dumbledore thought friendships and connections could always be built easier over a meal. And with those words, the feast appeared.

The students were told to find their own seats amongst the four House tables. They did just that, squeezing in wherever they could find a space. Cedric wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his lap— almost overshooting and having you land in the lap of Justin right behind— to prevent you from being too close to a bunch of Durmstrang boys who decided to squeeze into the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric turned his head to see if other tables had the same overcrowding problem, catching a glimpse of the Gryffindor table. You heard him snort as he tried to cover up a laugh while piling food onto the plate you two were now sharing. Hufflepuff had never felt so full and squished before— it was weird to have so many people at your table and to no longer have elbow room. You finished chewing on some roasted pumpkin seeds before talking.

“What was that look from earlier? The one after Potions class?”

“What look?” he asked.

“We left class, you said hi to Harry, walked around us both, gave me a wink and weird smile. That look,” you recounted.

“Oh, that. At first I was wondering if it was nothing but considering Potter hasn’t stopped staring since my hand’s been on your waist, it’s definitely something.”

“What?”

You looked up to see Harry doing exactly as Cedric said. He gave you a smile and wave which you returned. Hermione, who was sitting across from Ron and Harry turned her head when Harry pointed behind her. They all chuckled as you tried to discreetly point to the Durmstrang boys around you and mimic how they were taking up space. Cedric raised an eyebrow at his own sudden idea. He brushed your hair to the side, pretending it was in his way of eating. His eyes however were never cast down, secretly watching Harry the entire time. There was nothing he could read on Harry’s face, not even a slight squint. Harry simply pointed a finger up, indicating that you should go to the Gryffindor common room after the feast.

“Or, maybe it was nothing,” Cedric muttered.

You sighed. “It’s Harry. Of course, it’s nothing, Cedric.”

“Okay… why did that sound weird?”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood up. You held up a hand— they understood that you would meet them in five or so minutes. You and Cedric walked to the Hufflepuff common room so you could get Padfoot and then meet your friends. Cedric listened to you tell him what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, and the almost kiss.

“So, you two are being all weird because you almost kissed?” Cedric asked as he knocked on the barrel.

“We’re acting normal.”

“(Y/N), he walks you to class every morning. He walks you from Potions every time Defense Against the Dark Arts comes after it. I’m genuinely shocked when I’m around the two of you and you’re not holding hands.”

You shook your head. “I’ve heard of almost every one of Harry’s crushes. He gets so awkward and strange around them. I don’t think he could ever walk them to class, let alone hold hands with one of them.”

“Am I missing something?” Cedric asked,

You picked up Padfoot and shrugged. “No, not missing anything. You’re just looking for what isn’t there.”

You left and began a tiny journey to the Gryffindor common room. Cedric wasn’t actually missing anything— if he knew what he was looking for. It wasn’t his fault that you failed to mention that you wanted to see what it was like to kiss for real after the accident. Soon after you realized that you had a crush— very mild if you do say so yourself— on Harry. It wasn’t that you wanted to know what a real kiss was like. You wanted to know what a real kiss from Harry was like. And you realized it on the second day of school when he bothered to walk you to the Hufflepuff common room after late night Astronomy class in the observatory tower. You liked the way that he always slightly trapped you in whenever he reached over your shoulder to tap on the correct barrel to let you into your common room.

But there were many reasons to not voice how you felt. One, you weren’t lying about his crushes. Ever since being accepted by the golden trio, you got to know all their secrets. And secrets involved which girls Harry had crushed on at some point. The second was your fear. You always had a fear of rejection and failure— it was unfortunately a familiar feeling every time you attended a class that required practical magic. A squib’s life revolved around rejection. But, you weren’t sure if you could handle that from Harry.

The third reason was Harry was unsure. You watched him wait to talk to new people. There’s a reason he never talked to any of his crushes. Harry was always very unsure of who liked him because he was Harry Potter and who liked him because he was the Chosen One. You, Hermione, and Ron were the constants. The ones that he knew liked him because he was simply Harry Potter. Liking him as more than a friend would complicate that. That’s what you told yourself when he met you at the stairs and petted Padfoot before grabbing your hand as he led you into the common room— not letting go until you were comfortably on a large floor pillow.

“Do you think anyone’s going to put their name in tomorrow?” Hermione asked.

Ron nodded. “Definitely. Already all the Durmstrang seventh years saying they were going for it.”

“It’s crazy,” you said as you let go of Padfoot so he could play with Crookshanks. “It’s a dangerous, potentially deadly competition. Who wants to be in that?”

“I don’t know.” Ron shrugged. “You’d be kinda famous, plus the thousand galleons.”

“Not worth it. It’s just a thousand galleons— I mean they should be giving you more if you’re risking your life,” you quickly added.

You forgot for a moment that the Weasleys weren’t the most well off. Even when you were in the orphanage, you were well taken care of. You just didn’t have much extra money. When you were a baby, the Black family was rich. When Sirius got out of prison, the two of you never looked at a price tag before buying. You realized that to you the concept of what was worth a thousand dollars was very different from Ron. To him, risking your life in a competition was worth it— and it was a competition he couldn’t enter, neither could Fred and George.

Ron looked like he was thinking something over before sticking out the jellybean box towards you. “Yeah, I guess they could give more if it’s that dangerous, but a thousand is still good.”

You nodded and didn’t say anything else about it. The four of you— well, Harry and Ron— did homework that they put off earlier in the afternoon. Hermione was asking you all sorts of questions about Alchemy after Harry bragged that you were taking it. The boys slowed down their writing as they half paid attention to their work and listened more to your story. You rested your head on Harry’s knee since he was sitting on the couch right behind you.

“It’s not exactly a dream. Seriously, ‘Mione, the first day they told us don’t be surprised if we fail. Everybody technically fails.”

“How can you technically fail? How are students still graduating?”

“Because they write brilliant essays and concepts of alchemy. Only eight people in our entire wizard existence have executed practical alchemy. Half of the textbooks are written by people who only knew it in theory. So technically everybody fails.”

Hermione’s nose scrunched up, not agreeing with that at all. She declared that she wouldn’t take Alchemy even if she qualified after exams. The clock in the common room chimed causing you to look up with wide eyes. You missed curfew and, with all the visiting students, you were positive that the teachers were patrolling extra carefully. At least for the first couple of weeks. Hermione said you could stay in her room. It was empty since Pavarti and the other girls went to go comfort Cho you apparently just broke up with her boyfriend. Although, you were sure you heard the Cho was the one who broke up with him. The room could have been full and you would still agree to stay with Hermione rather than risk getting caught past curfew. The beds were big enough to share— a kind of tight squeeze but big enough for two people.

Out of the four of you, Ron’s guess was the most correct. By mid-morning of the first day the goblet was open, half of the seventh year Durmstrang boys had entered their name which was more than the other three of you guessed. You and Hermione had taken to doing your homework on the dark wood bleachers on the sides of the Great Hall every time you were free so you could watch people put their names in.

You missed Viktor Krum putting his name on Tuesday because you had a Potions class but. However, you did get to see Fleur put in her name along with four other Beauxbaton girls. They all giggled as they went up before suddenly stopping. You figured that once actually in front of the goblet, putting your name in suddenly became a lot less fun.

“(Y/N), can you help me? Professor Sprout said tomorrow we have to drain and collect bubotar pus but I read that undiluted it can cause boils on your skin and obviously it won’t be undiluted. What’s the best way to make sure the pus doesn’t squeeze past the bottle?” Hermione asked as she shut the Herbology book.

“Hmm, I always find that draining into a large bucket and then funneling it into bottles is safest. Still need to be careful though, take the smaller garden shears and just barely poke the tip into the very bottom of each individual boil on the plant to make a tiny hole.”

“Really? Thank you. Can I borrow your Herbology journal just for tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t even have class tomorrow so I wo—”

You were cut off as you rifled through your bag by a bunch of hooting and hollering. You and Hermione both turned your heads to see everyone in the Great Hall clapping for Fred, George and their friend Lee Jordan. They held up tiny vials that they said were going to be good enough to get their names in the goblet.

“It’s not going to work,” Hermione said in a sing-song voice.

The twins and Lee strolled over to where you two were sitting on the bottom bleacher bench. Hermione pointed at the levitating, faint blue circle that surrounded the goblet. She tilted her head at the three of them.

“That’s an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“So?” Fred asked with a scoff.

“So, Dumbledore isn’t going to be fooled by something as pathetically dimwitted as an ageing potion.”

George chuckled. “But that’s why it’s so brilliant, because it’s so pathetically dimwitted.”

You and Hermione looked at each other before looking at the three of them. They tried to reason with you that they were almost seventeen anyway so the potion was only for a couple of months and they had a chance. Everyone else in the hall was somehow convinced by them that the plan was a good one. You watched all three of them take sips and jump over the line. When nothing happened the hall began to cheer and clap. They dropped their papers into the fire— that earned another cheer. Maybe a few moments later, the goblet’s fire grew massive before spitting out the names. The ageing line literally threw the three boys out causing them to almost hit the bleachers. Hermione smiled in satisfaction as everyone laughed and she saw Dumbledore walk by the door with a smirk on his face.

“Told you. Your magic isn’t strong enough— (Y/N), where are you going?”

You had set down your book and picked up the dropped scraps of paper on the floor. You looked at Hermione and shrugged.

“Just had an idea.”

“That sounds bad.”

“Well, all magic has been accounted for. The age line is expecting it all. I bet you Professor Dumbledore forgot to account for lack of magic.”

You threw your wand at Hermione to catch so that you had no magical elements on you. Before she could say another word, you crossed the age line. Lee, Fred, and George looked at you with mouths agape. You gave them a small curtsy and held up the paper scraps.

“Would you like me to drop them in?”

The only thing that happened when you dropped the name in is that the tip of your finger got burned a little bit because a blue flame accidentally licked it. You stepped out of the age line, wiping your hands on your skirts and walked back to the bench. Collecting your books— aside from the Herbology journal you left for Hermione— you left the Great Hall. You ran into Cedric on the staircase. You noticed he wasn’t carrying anything but had his right hand clenched up in a fist.

“Is that what I think it is in your hand?” you asked.

He held up the paper. “Do you have class? I was just about to go drop it in.”

“No, I was just about to go see Draco. It’s Thursday. But I can be a little late.”

Cedric nodded absentmindedly. “Right, your Thursday tea.”

You walked with him back into the Great Hall that had cleared out almost right after you left. Rather than spoiling his moment and standing right next to him, you let Cedric cross the age line alone. He stood there just staring at the goblet for a moment. He got closer and dropped his name right in. He gave you a high-five as he crossed back over the age line.

“Done,” he breathed out. “I did it.”

“Way to go.”

“Thank you, sorry, I made you late.”

“Draco will understand.”

“Do you want your bodyguard to escort you to the Slytherin dungeons?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and a funny look on his face.

“Please,” you said in a tiny voice.

He grabbed your outstretched hand, swinging it back and forth as the two of you headed towards the dungeons. Every Thursday since third year, you and Draco had afternoon tea. There were very few times that either of you had to miss it. It was always in the Slytherin common room, or Draco’s shared room with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. But never the Hufflepuff common room which annoyed your cousin until you told him that Harry hadn’t seen your common room either.

“Where’s your cat?” Draco asked the minute you stepped in.

He really liked petting Padfoot.

“At the Hogsmeade vet. Barely goes outside the castle. And the few times he does, poor baby stepped on a burr. Kreacher is picking him up later.”

Draco nodded as he poured a cup of tea for you. You were in his shared room— no one else was there. He took the time to tell you everything that was on his mind. You had noticed at the Quidditch World Cup that his father was being worse than usual. It took Draco the entire month of September before he admitted to you that he thinks his dad might have been with the Death Eaters that night. He almost cried when he said he couldn’t even say for certainty that his father didn’t cast the Dark Mark that night either. Draco picked at his fingers before biting his nails— practically chewing them away as he spoke.

“You know I don’t think muggleborns deserve to die. I don’t agree with him or any of the Death Eaters. I mean, pedigree is important. Purebloods should try to marry purebloods and maybe we should have our own school but they should learn too. And they don’t deserve to die, they’re wizards after all. I think everyone thinks I want to kill them but I don’t. Really.”

“I know that, Draco… I don’t agree with your obsession on marrying another pureblood but I know you don’t actually want to harm any muggleborns.”

“I shouldn’t have told Granger that she was going to die in the Chamber of Secrets. That was too far, calling her a mudblood was funny but that wasn’t.”

“Stop thinking about it, Hermione probably doesn’t even remember that. No point in beating yourself up over it. You were, what, twelve? You were twelve and just repeating what your dad said.”

“Yeah… what if You-Know-Who comes back?”

You squinted your eyes at your cousin. Malfoy had moved on to his right thumb. You stood up and grabbed both his hands, forcing them away from his mouth. That’s when you saw the bags under his eyes. Nervous and potentially terrified was not something you saw on your cousin.

“Draco, what is going on?”

“Father’s been acting weird lately and now Death Eaters are back. He still has his mask, I made our house-elf check and see… what if he wants me to join them?”

“Say no.”

“(Y/N), if he asks me to join, it’s because he has a leader he wants to follow again. Because You-Know-Who is back. I can’t say no to You-Know-Who, I would be killed.”

“Maybe it’s someone else? Someone wants to revive the Death Eaters and finish what they think the world should look like.”

“I don’t know. Father doesn’t follow many people, it couldn’t be just anyone.”

“You’re safe, Draco. You-Know-Who is gone. Harry stopped him three times now.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Potter is supposed to save me?”

“Don’t think about Harry. Think about the fact that Voldemort is gone.”

“Alright.”

You left after making sure that your cousin was fine. Lucius Malfoy going back to being a Death Eater didn’t surprise you. You were just wondering how you never assumed that he would drag Draco into it. Your cousin, for all he was worth, was not a Death Eater. He was obnoxious. He was rude. He was a bully sometimes. But he would grow out of that. He wasn’t a Death Eater and that was something you never grew out of if you became one.

(Part 13)...

#cedric diggory x black!reader #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x black!reader #golden trio x reader

[wonderhoy-dump]

Missing Scene from Chapter 8 of Tsukasa Tenma’s Timeline to the Left

“I’m done setting up the cones! Now will you finally tell me what we’re blocking off this entire section for?”

Rui strides up to the band stage where Tsukasa is waving him over.

“Tsk tsk, why so testy, Tsukasa? I thought you said you trusted me?”

“I do, I do! This is my excited face! I’m excited about you adding a whole new staging setup less than a week before our show goes live. So excited!”

“Hm. Perhaps we should first work on the cogency of your improv skills.”

Tsukasa instantly turns red and sputtery at the jab. Their lead actor is almost too easy to rile up these days—takes all the fun out of it, honestly. 

Rui calms him down with some appeasing hand gestures and directs him back to where the cones first began, near the entrance to the plaza area. 

“I was thinking about your comments from the other day,” Rui narrates as they walk, “about how the action scene doesn’t enthrall the audience enough. Well, you were right. My original staging did not serve the chase scene in a way that would make this show or story truly great. Unfortunately, I don’t have much experience working with a cast of non-robotic troupe members, and I struggled to develop a solution befitting the strengths and skills of the Wanderers.”

“Rui…”

“Thankfully,” —he breezes forward— “that matter was quickly resolved once I realized I am no longer alone in the show creation process. Emu was kind enough to offer her suggestions, several of which I found immensely intriguing and have since made into reality.”

“You got Emu to share an idea with you!? What did she come up with!?”

Although irked by Tsukasa’s volume, Rui still smiles because he can’t help feeling a little proud of that accomplishment. 

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” 

With a grand gesture, he sweeps Tsukasa’s attention to behind the back plaza, where Emu is darting over the bushes with superhuman leaps. 

The high-powered mechanical exoskeleton Rui had finished up for her is greatly enhancing her already monstrous athletic abilities. Nene stands to the side, filming video of Emu’s movements so Rui can assess for adjustments later. 

Tsukasa gawks at the scene. 

“What. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Bunny Power Suit!”

“Bunny Power Suit? Is that what you’re calling the Star Training Suit?”

“Your Rui calls it the Star Training Suit?”

“Because I’m the one he makes wear it! H-He once had me jumping Olympian-style hurdles all day in that thing!”

“Well then. Good news for you: Emu was so excited about the ‘robot suit’ she saw when visiting my workshop, I resized everything for her to use in this show. So I guess you won’t be subjected to my invention in this world, Tsukasa.”

“Oh. Right. Uh, cool. But what does all that mean for the finale scene?”

Rui chuckles. “Thank you for that perfect setup.”

He snaps three times in a predefined pattern. Emu’s head whips around.

“Ms. Bounty Hunter: Mr. Alien has been located,” Rui delivers his lines in a commanding character voice. He levels a gloved hand at an alarmed Tsukasa. “Capture by any means necessary.”

“Roger that, captain!”

“Wait, wait, we’re doing the chase scene here? I thought—AURGHHAH!!!” 

Tsukasa narrowly dodges a bullet-speed Emu, who overshoots her strike by quite a bit and ends up racing nearly to the other end of the plaza due to excess momentum. 

“WHAT WAS THAT!?!”

“Oh, you do have nice reflexes. That will serve you well today.”

“Rui! What’s happening!? What are we doing!?”

“Right, so this pathway you’ve fenced off,” Rui begins to explain, as Nene runs to help Emu regain control of the suit, “the alien bounty hunter will be chasing her alien past the back stands, through the plaza, all the way up to the spaceship. See, instead of starting the ‘chase’ on the stage, Emu thought it would be more invigorating to put a chase through the park itself and end it on the stage.”

Tsukasa's panicked expression is instantly replaced with consideration as he processes the idea. 

“Huh. Wait, that’s clever. It takes advantage of the street show setting by making the action more immersive.”

“Correct. Fencing off this path should help us do that safely by keeping visitors out of the way.” 

“I see... I knew Emu had it in her for a great idea! But why is the Star Suit necessary?”

“Bunny Suit,” Rui corrects. “And that part is because the bounty hunter has to present as a major threat to the alien. I mean sure, Emu does judo, kickboxing, and parkour—”

“Kickboxing?”

“—but the audience doesn’t know that! Her suit capabilities and awesome mech appearance help establish her immediately as someone who can destroy the protagonist with a single strike!” 

Tsukasa doesn’t look nearly as happy about this as he should be. 

“So anyways, you must know the suit’s strength takes a bit of getting used to,” Rui continues, “which is why I’ve reworked this entire rehearsal for you and her to flesh out the choreography while also giving her some tactile experience. I gave her the basic tutorial earlier, but she still needs to run around a bit, get a feel for the aerodynamics.”

“Y–You mean to have an entire practice of me sprinting back and forth on this route while she hunts me down like an animal?”

“Exactly. And to help her get into character, I’ve put a little bounty on your head. For every time she catches you in the giant butterfly net, you owe her one taiyaki.”

“If it’s a bounty, why am I buying her the taiyaki!?” 

“Because then it doubles as an incentive. She gets the positive, you get the negative. And by the way, she’s looping back here with her Terminator run, so you have about three seconds after I end this sentence before she, ah, ends you.”

“Urk–!” 

Expression torn between wanting to complain to Rui more and not wanting Emu to flatten him, Tsukasa rightly chooses the correct option and sprints away. A half second later, Emu blasts past Rui with enough speed to make his hair swish. Another half second later, Tsukasa screams and Emu cheers for Taiyaki #1. 

Rui smiles. This show will no doubt be fantastic. 

#timeline fic #glissando’s prosekai brainrot

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 115

Tonight’s Episode: Kefla Whoops Goku’s ass!

Last time, Goku had defeated Caulifla and Kale, but they had a secret weapon up their sleeves!  Well, I think Caulifla was keeping hers in her belt/sash thing, really.  Turns out Champa gave them Potara Earrings before the tournament started, with instructions to put them on late in the tournament.  So now we’ve got Kefla, and if she’s anything like Vegito, then Goku is in deep trouble.

Kefla’s only real weakness seems to be that it takes her a bit to get used to how overwhelmingly powerful she is.  When she leaps at Goku, she overshoots him, for instance.  But it doesn’t take her long to get used to her body.  Come to think of it, Vegito had a similar period of adjustment. 

Although... when Vegito returned in Episode 66, he was ready to rock right out of the gate.  I guess that only makes sense, seeing as it was the second time Goku and Vegeta fused.  Still, it’s kind of weird to think about how Vegito remembers being two different guys, then being Vegito, then separating again, then being Vegito again after a number of years.  I guess it’s no different from all the times Gotenks has shown up, but I’m used to thinking of Gotenks as a temporary thing.  Vegito is too, apparently, but I still think of him as this one-and-for-all deal that just happened to cancel out. 

Anyway, Kefla’s putting the boots to Goku, and she’s only in base form. 

What’s she doing--?  AW SHIT!  IT’S THE GIANT SWING!

Okay, so she does have the hair tie from Kale.  I’ve seen fan artists draw Kefla with her hair “down” and I never understood what they were getting that from.  Anyway, the audience is counting the swings.  Goku’s dizzy as hell right now! 

Arrgh! The centrifugal force!  Chris Jericho tapped out to this once.  But Goku won’t because he’s not fighting Cell this time he knows Universe 7 is counting on him!

She just keeps swinging his ass!   While we’re waiting, here’s KISS with the hit song, “She”. 

Meanwhile, Beerus complains about the use of Potara being illegal.  Champa doesn’t see the problem, and the Grand Zenos think it’s cool, so that makes it legal. 

So Beerus demands to use Potara earrings himself, and mugs Shin. Whis points out that there’s a risk to this.  If Androids 17 and 18 fuse, for example, they might get an incredible warrior out of it (Shin calls this “Android 35″).  However, if that fused fighter makes a mistake and gets eliminated, then they lose two fighters in one stroke. 

Meanwhile, Vegeta is still fighting Top, and he keeps getting distracted by how powerful Kefla is.  Top offers to eliminate him so he can watch the action from the bench, and then he puts the squeeeeeeeeze on Vegeta, which is nice, because it’s always fun to see him get worked over.

Meanwhile... yuck!  Gohan and Piccolo are fighting U6′s Namekians, and Pilina does the long-arm bit, and Gohan just stomps right through it!  That’s messed up!

I mean, he can grow it back, of course.  They’re just like the U7 Namekians.  Really, the only awkward thing is that Pilina wears gloves, which means he has to go find his severed arm and get the glove.  Well, maybe he Clothes Beamed himself a new glove.  All we really see is him putting it on. 

Meanwhile, while Universes 3, 4, 7, and 11 aren’t interested in exploiting fusion, Universe 2 decides to give it a shot, and Helles tosses Potara earrings to Zarbuto and Rabanra.  Things immediately look bad when Zarbuto can’t get his on because he’s too dumb to remove his helmet. 

Then Kefla charges through them while fighting Goku, and the Potara are shattered.  Easy come, easy go, Helles concludes.

Meanwhile, 18 has an owie, and Catopesra shows up to capitalize.

But 17 shows up to bail her out.  Aww...

Meanwhile, Goku finally manages to reach Super Saiyan Blue.  As before, this is probably something he wasn’t quite ready to try yet.  Remember, Jiren kicked Goku’s ass in Episode 110 and he’s been fighting Caulifla and Kale to try to get back in the groove as he recovers. So he’s not just sandbagging in lower forms to drag this fight out.  He probably couldn’t turn Blue until somewhere around this moment. 

But Kefla turns Super Saiyan, so Goku’s probably still at a disadvantage here.  That’s the power of fusion.  Speaking of fusion, the dub keeps referring to it as “merging” in this episode, which seems odd to me, since they called it “fusion” almost exclusively before.  It’s like there was some directive from Toei about it, but I can’t imagine why.  Maybe someone wanted to restrict “fusion” to the Fusion Dance as opposed to the Potara thing.

Not a whole lot for me to say here.  They shoot rapid fire ki blasts and go to town on each other...

Vegeta finally manages to overpower Top, but he doesn’t eliminate him, so either he knows Top’s still got a lot left in him, or he’s too distracted by Super Kefla to think straight.

Eventually, Goku has to use Kaio-ken to keep up, but he still keeps up.  At one point he does an Instant Transmission to fake Kefla out, then reappears in the same spot to land a blow.  Nice twist on the technique after Caulifla had his usual tactics scouted. 

But ultimately, Kefla gets the better of him, and lands a heavy kick to the side of Goku’s head. 

He’s down.  Kefla congratulates him for putting up such a great fight, but it’s over, and all that’s left is to throw him out of the ring.

Or.... not.  Goku rises to his feet and says he won’t give up.  He’s still got some fight left in him.  So Kefla throws some more ki blasts at him and...

Uh-oh!

Uh-ohhhhhh!

Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #tournament of power #goku #caulifla #kale #113-116 are the best episodes

[mcl38]

At least your self aware. we have been hearing about that ugly troll being a future wdc for 5 years and he can not even capitalize on any chance to win without bottling it

id actually argue lando was rly slept on in terms of wdc material for the first 3ish years he spent in f1, and i think theres a couple reasons for that. first, like, he just didnt have a compelling enough narrative - when u compare it to his fellow 2019 british rookies, one of them was the champion of formula williams bc that car was so far behind anyone else, and the other one got promoted to a top 3 team within half a year, meanwhile lando was just kinda quietly collecting midfield points in a difficult-to-drive car, not rly much artifice in his rookie season. and then also, bc of his adolescent charisma, it was rly tempting for pundits and fans alike to shoehorn lando into this weird category of like court fool, where he gets to do his little quips and jokes and giggles and everyone gets to forget that he also like, drives a car.

but the funnest reason for this initial underrating imo is that lando's not had a typical driver performance trajectory. ive talked abt this before, but his progress in f1 has been SO amazing to watch bc he just keeps getting better bro. ppl like charles and george got the label of prodigy or championship potential bc they came into f1 guns ablazing, ready to fuck shit up in their subpar cars, and only after years in the sport do we see that, in top cars, that same crazy determination can easily turn into desperation and overshooting. lando, meanwhile, came into f1 a shy driver. i don't mean in terms of personality, but in terms of racecraft - he tended to lose positions after the start, give up slightly too easily in wheel to wheel battles, choose to save tyres over fighting for position, etc (traits that he still somewhat displays). but then, over his 5 years in the sport, he's sort of quietly and methodically developed niche skills like tyre management, race pace, and outlaps / inlaps (as well as the bigger ones like overtaking lol), and now he's in a top dog car and people r surpised to see that he's like consistently a threat, consistently on the podium, hasnt crashed into a wall once this season, hasnt ever had a driver error dnf. why? because he started off cautious (and therefore unimpressive), which turned into calculated, so he can figure out exactly where he can push and where he can't afford to. which is exactly what mclaren want and need in a top car driver

so like yes i understand that the nowins jokes arent gonna stop until he does actually get a win. but at the same time, he's currently sitting in front of the only non-rbr race winner in the championship with a car thats only been fast for half the season. and why is that? because he bottles races? nope. because he doesnt

#mr consistent forever in my heart <3 #im not gonna attach the troll pic again. i also dont rly care that u call him ugly lmao #he looks like one of those fucked up bats as all my followers know CJDKFK #like hes allowed to be ugly - as long as hes been on the podium 5 out of the last 6 GPs lmao #anyways! ty for giving me the opportunity to gush abt my guy again #lando #ask #anon #the lando hater

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

One of the angels

One of the angels is looking out the window. "Here's what I don't get," it says.

The speaker is one of the "angel-babysitters." The angels are an order, perhaps the most numerous, perhaps the oldest, of all the angels. They have had a role in human history since its very beginnings, but they were not noticed at first. There was always more to do -- angels who were in charge of cleaning, and angels who were responsible for keeping order in the minds of the first great thinkers. Angels who made medicines. Angels who kept the books. Angels who did the things that the other angels had no idea how to do, like, say, how to build a city. They were there all along. They just didn't do anything that could be taken as a sign of their presence. Their role was always a small one: to act in small ways at the margin, to ensure that what the angels did could be seen as being performed for humans.

"This isn't what I expected," the angel says.

"Really?" the angel-babysitter says. "Do you mean the giant, spiky one? He's all over the news. He's supposed to be in the new movie."

The angel-babysitter's face twists in puzzlement. "You mean the giant, spiky one? The one with the hair? The one that made a deal with the devil in the form of an angel, who then did nothing with that deal? He's famous, but not much happens with him anymore. What do you mean, the new movie?"

"Something about a book. A book that the author found in a library, and that the author got a deal to make into a movie, and the movie will now exist even after the book is finished."

The angel-babysitter looks confused. "You don't have a TV. We all watch the new TV."

"I mean, my TV," the angel says.

The angel-babysitter sighs. "We don't have to watch the TV. You know we don't need to watch the TV."

"Of course. I just thought you'd want to. It's good for morale."

The angel-babysitter shakes its head. "The morale of a bunch of people who have been looking after this place for eons? That's a very, very funny joke."

"I mean, my TV," the angel insists.

"We can look in on it from time to time, but we can't watch it all the time. It's no good for morale."

"I don't need the TV. I'm fine here."

The angel-babysitter looks around and sees one of its charges staring in horror at the screen. "We're all fine. All the angels are fine."

"What? I'm not fine! I hate the TV!"

The angel looks at the person who made the TV and the person who made the TV and the person who made the TV, all of whom have a very confused expression on their face.

"Of course," the angel-babysitter says. "A lot of these people have never had one before."

"That's right!" the angel says. "And they're not used to being here, and it's been a very stressful time for some of them. I don't think we should be watching a shocking, shocking TV."

The angel-babysitter sighs. "Well, of course we can't watch TV on Sundays. Some of us have duties. You know that."

"And that was just a duty?"

"It can't be too bad," the angel-babysitter says. "Not if I'm just here to sit in the nursery. I'm sure it's fine."

"It's fine until a lot of kids go to bed," the angel says.

"Well, we wouldn't want to overshoot it," the angel-babysitter says. "But I'm sure it's fine."

The angel looks at the screen for a moment more. The TV has started showing a film called Bread and Roses. Someone is dancing in a field.

The angel looks at the angel-babysitter's head, with the many eyes, and the many wings. "If we let you watch TV all the time, I think you could be very sad," the angel says.

The angel-babysitter blinks. "Is that what you think? I mean, I could get very sad. It's an unusual job to have. But I mean, if we let you watch TV, all the angels could get very sad!"

"All the angels could. We're an order, not an army."

The angel-babysitter has another expression on its face. "Is the army going to dissolve if we let you watch TV, and you're not doing it now?"

"We're an order, not a company."

"We can always just put you in your rooms. Some of us could be given shifts to just sit there with you, just to make sure nothing bad happens."

The angel-babysitter turns its head slowly. "Do we really need to? I mean, the TV is fine, isn't it?"

"Yes, but we could be doing other things. We do have duties. You know that."

"This isn't the sort of thing we would ever say to an angel-babysitter," the angel says.

"You are one," the angel-babysitter reminds it.

"Right, but we're a lot more important than an angel-babysitter."

"You are an angel," the angel-babysitter says.

"And you are a guardian angel. That's different."

"And we know that," the angel says. "But I can get very sad just sitting here on the edge of things, I've noticed. We shouldn't give you a task you won't be able to do."

"If you think I'm not doing it now, just sitting on the edge of things, you have never been on the edge of things in your life. You've never had your job to do!"

"We all have our jobs to do," the angel-babysitter says. "Of course, we're an order, not a company." It pauses to see if the order is going to dissolve if it's not doing the jobs on the TV. "No, it won't dissolve if we all sit on the edges of things. But we don't do that in the nursery every day. It's different."

"Different in just a very small way. Or perhaps not just a very small change at all. Or perhaps a little change, a very small one. Or perhaps a very small change."

"Well, we all have our guardian duties," the angel-babysitter says, "and you are the guardian of this whole place."

"You have said that. But I think it needs to be more than just just 'guardian,'" the angel says. "I think it's time we took a look, now that we're here. The TV screen is full of television for you to watch all the time while you are here.

#original fiction