#i actually am curious about sweetheart's handwriting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

After the wedding, coops plays the newly wed game and Marlene is just like 😍😍

The newlywed game is so cute and Neil Patrick Harris did one with his husband a few years ago that is just adorable. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Welcome back, Lions!” Marlene said with a broad smile. “After a brief summertime hiatus, we’re back with Captain Sirius Black and our brand-new winger, Remus Lupin. Do you guys want to tell the viewers why you’re here?”

“You threatened us,” Remus said.

“Also, we got married,” Sirius added, holding up his left hand.

“Oh, yeah, that too.”

Marlene rolled her eyes as they turned to her with matching grins. “You two are hopeless. You’re here today to play the newlywed game, which will test how well you know each other. I’ll be asking each of you eleven questions that the other person has already answered, and you get a point for each answer that matches. Does that make sense?”

Remus gave her a thumbs-up. “Crystal clear.”

“Loops, because you slandered my good name earlier, you’re going first. I hope your husband wins.”

“Oh, I will,” Sirius promised, kicking the leg of Remus’ chair lightly as he tapped his cue cards on his thighs. “Alright, first one: what did we do on our first date?”

“Pizza at Sid’s,” Remus answered.

Sirius held up a small posterboard with ‘pizza’ written on it. “Correct! What was the last thing we bickered about?”

Remus thought for a moment. “You answered these today, right?”

“Yeah, honey, we did this in adjacent rooms,” Sirius laughed.

“Right, sorry. In that case, it was parallel parking because there weren’t any spots outside the building.”

“Correct! If our love life was a candy bar, what would it be?”

Remus frowned. “What?”

“If our love life was a candy bar, what would it be?” Sirius repeated with a devilish smile. “What, you don’t know this one?”

“Shit, what would you say to this?” Remus muttered. “Um…hell, I don’t know, a Snickers?”

The smile slipped off Sirius’ face. “Are you kidding me?”

“Did I get it right?” Remus’ eyes widened when Sirius held up the posterboard with ‘Snickers’ scrawled across it, and pumped both fists in the air. “Ha! I don’t even care who wins now!”

“Good, because it’s going to be me. Next question: If I could describe you in one word, what would it be?”

“If you could describe me?” Remus exhaled slowly. “That’s tough. Uh, chatty?”

“What?” Sirius asked through his laughter. “Chatty?”

“It’s true!”

“I said ‘sweet’!” He showed the board to the camera and they both burst out laughing. “Jesus, who do you think I am? Just rolling up to Marlene like, ‘hey, did you know my husband talks a lot?’”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You’ve only made it through four questions,” Marlene informed them, clearly amused.

“What is your weirdest quirk?” Sirius read off the board.

Remus paused. “Like, what do I think my weirdest quirk is?”

“I think so. It threw me off at first, too.”

“This is not grammar correction hour,” Marlene called.

“I think my weirdest quirk is that I can’t end stairs on my left foot,” Remus said after a moment. “I’ll skip a step if I have to.”

Sirius hummed. “I didn’t even think of that one.”

“What did you put?”

“Pre-game superstitions.”

“Hypocrite,” Remus said with a grin.

“Perhaps. Who is my celebrity crush?”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want me to tell them?”

“It’s not that weird!”

“Freddie Mercury.”

“That is a little odd,” Marlene agreed when he showed the board.

Sirius looked between them in disbelief. “Why?”

Marlene snorted. “Because the person you married is basically the exact opposite.”

“There’s a difference between thinking someone’s hot and wanting to marry them.”

Remus pouted slightly. “You don’t think I’m hot?”

“Oh my god,” Sirius groaned. “Next question. What is my favorite book?”

“The Hobbit.”

“Nope.”

“Three Musketeers?”

“Nope.”

“Winnie the Pooh?”

“What the fuck?” Sirius laughed. “It’s To Kill A Mockingbird. Marlene, can I skip the next one?”

Remus leaned closer. “Well, now I’m curious.”

“Which of us would win at Trivial Pursuit?”

“Oh, baby, I would wipe the floor with you.”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I know. If I needed a lift at 3 am, who would I call?”

“James.”

“Yep. What is my silliest fear?” There was a brief pause. “Really? I thought this was one of the easier ones.”

“There are several to choose from,” Remus mused. “But I think you would say your silliest fear is dishsoap bubbles.”

Sirius held the final board up. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. They’re all slimy and gross. Last question: what is our favorite activity to do together?”

A smile twitched at Remus’ lips for half a second before he regained his poker face. “I would say hockey, but I think it’s actually road trips.”

“Incorrect,” Sirius said smugly.

“We literally had this conversation two days ago. What did you put down?”

He flipped the board around. “Movie night. You’re not entirely wrong about road trips, but bonus points helped you win last time, so I’m never doing that again.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Remus waved him off, as if he wasn’t having the time of his life. “Okay, number one: who is the better driver?”

“Me,” Sirius said without hesitation.

“Indeed. What did I wear on our first date?”

Sirius bit his lip in concentration. “You wore jeans and a sweater. Your green one, right?”

Remus glanced to the camera, clearly stunned, then held up his board. “Yeah, you nailed it.”

They high-fived and Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You thought you were so smart with that Snickers answer, huh? I know things, sweetheart!”

“Who is the tidiest?” Remus continued with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Me, but you clean more often.”

“True. Who is the funniest?”

“You.” Remus shook his head and Sirius gave him an offended look. “You’re way funnier than I am!”

“We’re funny in different ways,” Remus conceded. “You make really good puns, but I’m just sarcastic and people think I’m kidding. Who does the most cooking?”

“You, for sure.”

“Marley, these questions are too easy. You’re rigging the game against me.” Remus shot her a teasing glare as he set the used boards on the ground. “What is my ideal date?”

“Going to the bookstore and staying there for at least four hours.”

“I don’t know about four hours—”

“Re, I love you, but that is exactly what we did last weekend.”

Remus hesitated, then nodded. “Fair. What is my favorite junk food?”

“You are an Oreo hound. We have, what, three boxes stashed in the house right now?”

“Five,” Remus muttered.

Sirius’ jaw went a little slack. “Where? I only saw three in the pantry.”

“I’m not telling you, you’ll steal them!”

He turned to Marlene with a disbelieving look and she shrugged. “Hey, I’m just here to moderate. This is reality tv for me.”

“If I was a Disney princess, who would I be?” Remus asked before things could devolve further.

“Belle, obviously.”

“Hell yeah. What do I think your best feature is?”

“Again with the wording,” Sirius sighed. “Hmm. You’re always messing with my hair.”

“It is very soft,” Remus agreed. “But that’s the wrong answer. I think you have the prettiest eyes.”

His cheeks went pink. “Really?”

“Babe, I’ve told you this a million times,” Remus laughed.

“Still.”

He shook his head and moved on to the next question. “Which of us has the worst handwriting?”

Sirius frowned. “Neither of us has bad handwriting.”

“Which one is worse than the other?” Marlene clarified.

“You, maybe?” he guessed. “I really like your handwriting, though.”

“Yeah, I put myself for that one. It’s kind of a weird half-cursive with a bunch of loops. Which is fitting, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Ready for the last one? You’re totally going to get this.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

“What was our last date, and when?”

“Last Thursday,” Sirius said. “We got takeout and watched The Princess and the Frog.”

“Did you sing along?” Marlene asked.

“Of course we did,” Remus said with a playful scoff. “Alright, who won?”

Behind the camera, Dorcas cleared her throat. “Remus, you got seven out of eleven correct, and Sirius, you scored a grand total of…nine.”

Sirius whipped back around to face him. “I told you I would win!”

“I’m crushed,” Remus said drily, though he couldn’t keep down his smile. “Oh, no, my husband knows me too well!”

“Did you guys have fun?” Marlene asked.

“We always do.” Sirius slid the boards across the floor to her before looking up to the camera. “Thanks for joining us today to see my victory at last, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe to Lion Pride for more content like this.”

184 notes · View notes

liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft.

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration.

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners.

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business.

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity.

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened.

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

3K notes · View notes

hijeonki · 3 years

Text

“but to me, Vincenzo Cassano will not be remembered just as a memory.”

A Cencha AU! that narrates what Hong Cha Young’s life had been after Vincenzo departed from Korea leaving no trace of him behind.

For some stupid reason, I deleted my first blog and now i am reposting this full-length cencha AU back on the tumblr timeline!

******

After Vincenzo left Seoul to god knows where, everyone, most especially Ms. Hong, felt how empty their days have been.

Her shoulder injury eventually healed with time but unfortunately, it is as if nothing could mend the pain Vincenzo left. If only Babel could’ve created a more humane pain killer, then it could’ve been her saving grace during this time.

Sometimes she would snicker alone behind her work table whenever she gets reminded of the silly things about Vincenzo but Mr. Nam would sometimes catch her gloomy frowns as she stares at the empty table on her left. Without her partner in crime, it seems like the small Jipuragi Law Firm has become too spacious for two people to share.

Cha young wasn’t really alone. Geumga Plaza tenants whom she considered as a family has always been there for her and she could say that somehow, they have been good at making up for the longing she has for Vincenzo and her Dad. After all, as long as Jipuragi Law Firm still stands, the two men she’ll ever love in this life will always be with her.

Geumga Plaza tenants always had consistent get-togethers and Cha Young always found herself attending every time for the past few months. She’ll do everything just to keep herself away from being alone as it always reminded her of longing.

She works until her eyelids fall down on their own and wakes up the next morning still on her work clothes. It was like this for three consecutive months until she found a local vineyard on her way back to Seoul from a conference in Gyeongsang.

At first, it was just a curious visit to a small, cheap local vineyard. But then she finds herself coming back. One of the owners, an old lady, seems to notice her frequent visits and asked her if she wanted to buy a row of grapevines and produce her very own wine out of them so that her every trip won’t go to waste as she often visits. She looked around noticing that some of the grapevine rows actually have names on them. “You can name yours too,” the old lady sweetly said as she meticulously examines the branches of the grapevines delicately.

“I would love to. But I still don’t know what to name mine.”

“No worries. We can just hang up a sign that this row’s already taken. But be sure to name your grapevines, sweetheart. They love being called by their names whenever we tend to them. Because of it, they produce the sweetest wines.”

Cha Young could only just nod. Feeling bad about how her grapevines don’t have a name. But before the old lady could turn her back from her, she mumbled “Vincenzo.”

“Vincenzo Cassano. I’d like to name them that.” The old lady looked back at Cha Young with a sweet smile. “Be sure to always come back and visit Vincenzo like you always do.”

And so she did. Every week, she would never miss a single visit to the vineyard. Sometimes she would grab a coffee with Mrs. Lee, the owner, and just talk about life. The vineyard had become her safe place and a breather for the sadness.

Mr. Nam finds it particularly weird how Cha Young would always plot vineyard schedules on her work schedule but he doesn’t ask away as he seems contented upon every every wine bottle she gives him every week to which he shared with Mr. Ahn whenever he gets to drop by.

The vineyard was enough to get Cha Young to go through the drastic change in her life after Vincenzo left without a trace until one day she received a snail mail.

It doesn’t even have an address or a name and she finds it oddly peculiar how a snail mail got one her desk this early in the morning when Mr. Nam hasn’t even arrived yet.

“Is it another death threat?” she thought as she has been receiving several of it on her span emails after she had won cases upon cases vs. injustice.

Her curiosity only led her to eventually open the envelope containing a postcard of a sole island in the middle of a beautiful, blue sea. Familiar handwriting was inked at the back of the material and right then she knew who sent this postcard. No wonder she received it the most unexplainable way.

With this, she finally knew he’s doing well and that he was somewhere safe but even though she was greeted by such a piece of lovely news, she just could not keep her tears from falling.

If only he was with her, he could’ve wiped her tears away. But to her, the postcard was enough for her to smile through it. They were like the tears she shed when finally she had granted her father’s death justice. They were tears of relief upon months of wondering how Vincenzo is, where he is, or if he already had his dinner. She finally got a piece of an answer now.

After the first postcard, a second one arrived the next month and Mr. Nam happened to find it slipped through the door gap of the law firm. Cha Young found him sitting gloomily at the conference table as he sips his heartful espresso.

“It’s him, right?” Mr. Nam asks Cha Young to which she just silently nodded. “I see that you also received one.” she forced a smile in hopes to brighten up the mood. “Where the heck can that jerk be hiding? Ever Mr. Ahn couldn’t trace him.”

“Maybe he’s living the best of his life in a tropical island in the middle if the Mediterranian Sea. I mean, who knows?” she jokingly exclaimed as she propped her belonging atop her desk.

“What’s important is he’s alive and well.” she continued. Mr. Nam finally smiled as he stood up and clipped the postcard he received at the law firm’s memory wall. Cha Young followed to clip the postcard she received last month too.

“I miss him,” she breathed.

Cha Young had mastered the art of bottling up her sincerest feeling as she knows that showing this vulnerable side of hers wouldn’t do her any good. But she oftentimes wonders if doing this actually saves her from the pain because if it does, she shouldn’t have regretted anything when she lost her Dad nor when Vincenzo left.

Cha Young could’ve said something to make him stay. She could’ve. But she can’t bring herself to fo so. Their worlds were placed differently in the first place and she thought that having their distant world collide during an unprecedented time sure is more than enough for her. Making him stay is cruel and selfish. But her hopes of bringing their worlds closer once again still sits somewhere in the corner of her heart.

Thinking about it, she sniffles a little as she stares at the postcards sent by Vincenzo. Mr. Nam could only let her be. It is not as if his longing for Vincenzo is equal to what Hong Cha Young was feeling as that couldn’t amount to any form of longing he could feel for a lad that he also considered a brother. It wouldn’t make sense if he told her that he understood how she felt as Cha Young’s longing for Vincenzo is equivalent to losing a part of herself. That is what Mr. Nam had realized all this time.

But maybe one day, Mr. Nam thought to himself, Vincenzo would find himself back to Cha Young’s life just like hoy Gyeonu and Jiknyeo find their way back to each other during Chilseok. On an island near Malta, 9,467 km away from Seoul, Vincenzo hopes to do the same.

“Ms. Hong. I never make promises unless it’s for business purposes. But I promise you this; I will come back.”

*******

I hope you guys enjoyed this CenCha AU! I honestly don’t know how to end it or if I even want to end it but there you are!! This is just one of the many more CenCha AUs I have in mind. <3 Tune in for more!~

#vincenzo #hong cha young #cencha au #chacenzo au #song joong ki #song joongki #jeon yeo bin #jeon yeo been #cencha #chacenzo

18 notes · View notes

romeoandjulietyouwish · 4 years

Text

And when you get there is a family waiting for you?

By @romeoandjulietyouwish for @theherothechampiontheinquisitor

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Avengers Team

Summary: On Peter's 16th birthday he receives a letter from his mother that reveals life-changing information.

Ao3 link

Surprise! I’m pinch-hitting for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

I used prompts 2 (Tony is Peter’s biological father) and 3 (Tony gets hurt protecting Peter)

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @hold-our-destiny @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay

Peter’s birthday was never a big deal. Ben and May never had much money to spend on presents, and Peter never had enough friends to warrant a big birthday party. More often than not Peter’s birthdays always ended up with a movie night with either Ned or May (sometimes both) and Ben when he was alive. But this year Peter wants something different, he wants to celebrate with Tony as well.

When he proposed the casual dinner to Tony, he had been expecting a rejection, that Tony would have something better to do than celebrate his intern’s birthday. But Tony had just smiled and asked what time he should be over. Peter grinned and gave Tony a big hug.

That’s something they do now, hug. Peter was nervous about it at first, not wanting to pressure the man into affection when he clearly didn’t want it. But something changed after the building fell on him, Tony started inviting him around to the lab more and actually mentoring him. And Peter almost feels that Tony has taken on a parental role in his life, not that he would ever tell Tony that. Nonetheless, Peter has grown to care for the man, and he knows Tony feels the same about him.

The doorbell rings promptly at six. Peter bounds from the kitchen where he had been supervising May’s cooking. He flings the door open with a wide smile, Tony has a similar one when he sees Peter. Tony is wearing a worn t-shirt and scuffed up jeans, looking nothing at all like the man Peter sees in the press.

Tony pulls Peter into a quick hug, “Happy birthday, kid.”

Peter smiles, “Thank you!” He looks down at the bag of presents next to the man’s feet and sees it overflowing with brightly wrapped boxes and bags. “You didn’t have to…”

Tony waves him off and walks into the apartment, “Nonsense. It’s not every day you turn sixteen.” After dropping the presents on the coffee table, Tony walks into the kitchen, Peter following behind him, hopping up to sit on the counter while May finishes cooking. Tony kisses May’s cheek and tells her that dinner smells wonderful earning a smile from her.

After dinner, more edible than Peter had been expecting, May leads the boys into the living room, sitting Peter before the pile of presents on the coffee table. Peter blushes, bashful at the attention and the amount of money spent on him.

“You guys really didn’t have to,” Peter tries to say, but once again the adults wave him off, Tony pushing a present into his hands.

“Open that one first.”

Peter gives his mentor a questioning look but tears open the blue wrapping around a small box. The paper discarded, he carefully opens the box revealing a watch, a very fancy watch, or so Peter assumes.

“This needs a little explanation,” Tony says. “This watch is more of a gift for May and me than for you. It will tell us your vitals at any given moment and connects directly to our phones and it has a built-in tracker.”

“I like the sound of that,” May laughs, leaning over Peter’s shoulder to see the watch.

Peter glares at them, “I don’t like you two being friends, you keep ganging up against me.”

Tony chuckles, “It’s because we care about you, Spider-baby.” Peter rolls his eyes at the nickname, batting Tony’s hand away when he tries to ruffle it.

“Here,” May hands him a bigger box. “This is from me.” Peter curiously tears open the wrapping paper. His mouth drops wide open when he sees what’s inside.

“May, how did you find this?” He looks up at his aunt, eyes wide with excitement.

“I have my sources,” May says mysteriously.

Tony looks over, “Uh, what is it exactly?”

Peter gapes at Tony, “One of the rarest Star Wars Lego sets in existence! They only made like fifty of these! Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to tell Ned!” Tony and May share a fond smile over the boy’s head.

Half an hour later all of the presents are unwrapped and the living room is covered with wrapping and tissue paper. As Tony and Peter shove the paper into garbage bags, May disappears into her bedroom, only to return with an envelope in her hands.

May takes a deep breath, holding a letter to her chest, “Peter. I have something else for you.”

Peter frowns, sitting back on the couch, “You already gave me my gifts.”

She shakes her head, “No, Peter, this isn’t from me. It’s from your mother.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes bug out.

May nods and hands him the letter, “I have no idea what it says, but it was part of her will that I was supposed to give it to you when you turned sixteen.”

Peter runs his fingers over the back, feeling the soft parchment. His name is printed neatly on the back with a small smiley face. Peter smiles softly. He takes a deep breath and breaks the seal, pulling out a letter in his mother’s handwriting.

Dear Peter,

Happy sixteenth birthday! If you are receiving this letter, that means your father and I didn’t make it to your sixteenth birthday. I’m sorry, Peter. Know that your father and I love you very very much and even though we are gone we are still with you, looking out for you.

At the time I am writing this, you have just passed your third birthday. You are such a curious child and you look at the world as if it is one big question you don’t understand. I hope you never lose that spark. You’re going to be a great leader someday, I can tell. But no matter what you choose to do with your life, your father and I will always be so proud of you.

I wanted to write this letter years in advance, just in case something happened to me or your father before we could tell you in person. Peter, no one knows what I am about to tell you, the only people who know are your dad and I.

Peter, Richard Parker is not your biological father. Anthony Stark is.

I know you’re probably upset by this news and rightfully so. I kept this secret from you your entire life. But I want you to know that Tony is a good man, despite what the media wants you to believe. He doesn’t know you exist, I didn’t tell him. I wanted this to be up to you, whether or not you want to include him in your life.

I love you, Peter. Don’t ever forget that.

With all the love in the world,

Mom

By the time Peter is done reading, his vision is obscured by tears. He gasps for breath, holding the letter tight to his chest. Could it really be true?

“Peter?” Tony squeezes his leg and Peter whips to look at him. “What’s going on, buddy?” Peter finds it impossible to look Tony in the eyes. Tony is his...father. Peter just shakes his head and pushes Tony away from him, pretending not to see the hurt look in the man’s eyes.

“Oh my god,” Peter says to himself. The two adults watch him nervously as he cries, reading over the letter again, maybe he read it wrong. He didn’t. Tony is his father.

“Peter, honey?” May kneels in front of him. “Are you okay?”

Peter shakily offers May the letter, she bypasses it and gives Peter a tight hug, letting him cry into her shoulder for a few seconds. May pulls back just enough to kiss Peter’s forehead. Peter pushes out of her embrace.

“Read this...please,” Peter forces the letter into her hand. She frowns at him, but nods, looking down at the page.

Peter stands slowly as May sits down on the couch. “I’m sorry,” he tells Tony before he bolts out of the living room and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Peter throws himself onto his bed, sobbing heavily into his pillows. Tony is his father.

Does that mean his mother cheated on his- Richard? Did May really not know? Did Tony really not know? Did Richard even love him? Or was Peter just a child he was forced into loving?

What is Tony going to think?

Does Tony want to be a dad? Is this going to destroy their relationship?

Questions keep rolling into Peter’s mind, he can’t seem to stop them. Nothing makes sense anymore. He feels as though his whole life has been knocked over with a gust of wind. Peter doesn’t know how long he sobs into his pillows, but eventually, the tears subside, and Peter curls into a ball, pulling his blankets over his head.

“Peter?” May knocks her knuckles lightly on the door. “Can I come in, sweetie?”

“It’s open,” Peter tells her.

He hears the door creak open and May’s feet padding across the carpet. May sits on the edge of his bed, “Tony’s gone. He thought it would be best to let us talk.”

“Did you tell him what’s going on?” Peter asks, his voice muffled from under his blankets.

“I didn’t,” May rubs his arm. “I figured that decision should be up to you when you’re ready.”

May lets silence fall between then, waiting for Peter to talk. Peter takes a deep breath and sits up, the blankets falling around his waist.

“Did my dad, Richard, love me?” Peter asks, his voice small.

“Oh, sweetheart,” May lifts Peter into her arms, letting herself bear his weight. “He loved you so much. He used to carry a picture of you in his wallet and whenever he felt stressed or anxious he would take it out and look at it for a few seconds, it always made him smile. I asked him about it once and he just smiled and said that he could never be sad or anxious or stressed when he saw your face. He loved you more than anything in the world, Peter.”

“Really?” Peter sniffs, looking up at his aunt with teary eyes.

May touches his cheek and nods, “If there was ever a man destined to be a father, it was Richard Parker.”

Peter hugs his aunt tightly then pulls back and looks at his aunt, struck with a sudden realization, “Wait...does that mean we’re not related? Because if Ben and my dad were brothers but Tony is my dad, then we’re not-”

May pulls him into a tight hug, “Shh… That doesn’t matter, Peter. You should know by now that family is so much more than blood. We make our own families. And if our family is a teenage boy and his weirdo aunt,” Peter laughs, “that’s okay. It doesn’t matter if we’re related, sweetheart, because I love you no matter what. Okay?”

Peter nods, ��Is it okay...if I want Tony to be part of our family?”

May smiles and cups his cheeks, “Of course it is. Is that what you want?” Peter nods. “Then why don’t you call him and ask him to come back over tomorrow so we can tell him everything okay? You and me together.”

Peter nods again, giving May one more tight hug before she kisses his head, “Get some sleep, honey,” and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Peter takes a deep breath and grabs his phone. He quickly mops up his tears before pressing the button to call Tony.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony answers on the first ring. “You okay?”

“Um, I think so. I’m sorry about tonight, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Peter tugs at a string on his pillowcase.

“It’s okay,” Tony says easily. “I still had a nice time tonight.”

“Would you be able to come by the apartment tomorrow? I-I need to talk to you.” Peter asks.

“Sure thing, is everything alright? You seemed kind of upset.”

Peter looks down, “I, uh, I got some really really big news in the letter my mom wrote me.”

“Okay, kid. I- shit!” Tony exclaims. All of a sudden Peter hears running feet. “How soon can you swing to Brooklyn?”

“I can be there in like...eight minutes. What’s going on?” Peter is already tugging on his suit.

“We don’t know, but it’s something big. We need all hands on deck.” Peter knows he means it. There is no chance in hell that Tony would let him tackle an Avengers level threat, especially after he broke down in front of the man, unless it was serious.

“I’m on my way,” Peter says quickly. “See you soon.” He hangs up and tugs on his mask, having Karen message his aunt as he leaps out the window. He swings to Brooklyn quickly, seeing flashes of yellow and green light in the distance.

“Hey, guys!” Peter lands on a rooftop, watching as the Avengers jump into action against what seems to be three wizards. “Where can I help?”

“Stay up high,” Steve commands. “Get any civilians out if you can, keep the area clear for us. Got it?”

“Got it!” Peter swings into action.

“If you feel too over your head, you tap out, okay?” Tony asks. “No one will judge you if you do.”

“Okay,” Peter agrees, though he knows he won’t. Tony asked him to be here, so here he’s going to be. Peter imagines himself tucking all of his feelings into a box, he doesn’t need to be distracted by his family drama right now. He then closes the box, wraps it in duct tape, and locks it in a vault in the back corner of his mind.

Peter swings through the streets, shouting down to civilians that they need to clear the streets. The wizards above him drag cars and signs and trash cans from the street, hurling them at the Avengers. It’s only Peter’s spider-sense that keeps him from getting hit by falling debris as he rushes to get people inside.

Peter snags a little girl around her waist and quickly shoves her into her mother’s waiting arms as a truck falls right where she had just been standing. “Get inside!” Peter tells her as he rushes to save someone else.

“Peter!” Tony shouts. “Watch your six!”

Peter turns around just in time to see the building behind him starting to collapse. He’s going to get crushed if he doesn’t get out of the way. He knows he can run fast, but probably not fast enough to be unscathed by the building. Peter is just about to try to run for it, when something slams into his side, shoving him clear out of the way by several feet. Peter jumps to his feet and looks to see who saved him. But all he can see is a flash of red and gold as the build collapses down.

“Tony!” Peter shrieks. He runs toward the fallen building, scrambling up the rubble. All he can see are bricks and dust. Panicked, Peter starts clawing at the bricks. He has to save Tony. Then someone grabs him around the waist, pulling him away. “No!” Peter tries to fight the person holding him, but they just hold tighter. He needs to help Tony.

“Calm down,” Steve tells him. “I’ve got you.” He crushes Peter to his chest, holding the boy in place as he tries to claw out of his grip.

“I need to get Tony!” Peter shouts.

“We’re going to get him out,” Steve promises. “Let us handle it.”

“No! I didn’t tell him yet!” Peter doesn’t know if his vision is clouded from the dust of the tears building in his eyes. “He doesn’t-” Peter gasps for air, but it comes out as a tight wheeze, “-He doesn’t know yet. I have to tell him. He needs to know! He can’t die!”

“Peter,” Steve says calmly. “I need you to take a deep breath or you’re going to pass out, okay? Can you take a deep breath?” Peter shakes his head, he is honestly trying, but he can’t get his lungs to move any slower and take in any air. He clutches Steve’s uniform and falls into the soldier’s arms, his vision starts to go spotty. Distantly, Peter can hear someone telling him to breathe, but Peter just snaps into the blackness.

---

Peter wakes to fluorescent lights above him. He blinks slowly, adjusting to the harsh light. A soft noise comes from his throat as he digs his fingers into the bed under him, trying to adjust to his surroundings.

“Take it easy,” someone puts a hand on his chest and gently pushes him back into the bed as he tries to sit up. Peter looks to his left and finds Steve sitting in a chair beside him. That’s when it all comes crashing back down on Peter.

The letter, the battle, the building falling and crushing Tony.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve says quickly, realizing that Peter is starting to panic again. He sits down on the edge of Peter’s bed and takes Peter’s hands in his. “Everything is okay. We’re in the tower, Tony is alive.”

Peter searches Steve’s face for any trace of a lie, he saw the building crush Tony.

“Tony’s alive?” Peter asks slowly.

Steve nods, “We can go see him if you want. Bruce already cleared you.”

Peter nods and lets Steve help him out of bed. Once standing he finds he is no longer wearing his Spiderman suit, someone has dressed him in soft grey sweatpants and one of Tony’s old t-shirts that Peter had long since stolen from him.

Steve keeps an arm around Peter’s shoulders as they walk down the hallway. When they arrive at a door that Peter assumes is Tony’s, Steve asks him, “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“Can I be alone with him?” Peter asks, his voice small.

Steve nods, “Call if you need anything okay?”

Opening the door, Peter finds Bruce checking over Tony, making notes on his clipboard. At the sound of the door opening and shutting behind him, Bruce turns, smiling when he sees Peter. “How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

Peter shrugs, “I feel fine. Is Tony okay?”

“Yeah,” Bruce smiles. “Thankfully the suit managed to protect most of him so there’s not as much damage as we were anticipating, a few cracked ribs, a broken ankle, and a concussion. He’ll be fine in a week or so.”

Peter lets out a sigh of relief. Tony really is okay. He’s going to be able to tell Tony that he is his son. He hasn’t lost another father figure. But before he tells Tony there's something he needs.

“Bruce?” The scientist looks up at Peter. “Um, you have my and Tony’s DNA on file right?” Bruce frowns in confusion, but nods. “Do you think you could run a paternity test before he wakes up?”

“You think that he…” Bruce’s eyes are wide as he comprehends what Peter is asking.

“Please, don’t tell anyone,” Peter begs. “I don’t want to tell Tony unless it’s absolutely true.”

Bruce nods and smiles at him, “It’ll be done as soon as possible.” As Bruce leaves he squeezes Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. It makes Peter feel a tiny bit better.

The slow beep of a heart monitor fills the room, ordinarily, it would hurt Peter’s head, but now it serves as a needed reminder that Tony is alive. Tony himself looks far worse for the wear. His face is bruised and cut all over and based on what Peter can see of the man’s body, the rest of him is the same.

Peter sinks into the chair beside the bed and takes Tony’s hand in his own. He doesn’t say anything, he just fights the building tears. He almost lost Tony, Tony would have died protecting him. Peter would never have been able to forgive himself if Tony died. Why does Peter deserve to live any more than Tony?

He doesn’t know the answer to the question.

Peter just sits there thinking. In his mind he imagines himself telling Tony that he’s his son. Tony reacts a different way every time, sometimes he shoves Peter away and tells him to go away, sometimes he smiles and hugs him, sometimes Tony freezes and Peter watches Tony’s hardened mask pull over his face.

Of all of them, that’s the one Peter hates the most, that he could become a stranger to Tony, someone he feels the need to wear a fake smile and false cockiness around. As Peter thinks, he feels his eyes grow heavy. Peter lays his head down on the soft bed and lets his eyes slip closed.

Peter wakes up to someone running their hand through his hair. Peter nudges the hand, trying to get closer, eliciting a deep chuckle from someone above him. Peter slowly lifts his head, Tony is awake. Before the man can say anything, Peter hugs him tightly, pressing his head into Tony’s chest.

Tony grunts in pain at the impact of the hug. “I’m sorry!” Peter tries to pull away but Tony won’t let him move.

“Just a little bit longer, kid,” Tony says into his hair. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

Peter nods into Tony’s chest, “I’m fine.” He sits up, pulling out of the hug and looks at Tony with sad eyes. “Why did you do that? Why did you push me out of the way? You knew there wouldn’t be enough time for you to get out.”

Tony smiles sadly, “Did you really think I would have stood by and let you be crushed by a building again?”

“Why do you think that my life is more important than yours?” Peter asks.

“Because you’re sixteen, you still have so much life left, I wasn’t about to let you die when I had the ability to save you.” Before Peter knows it, he’s crying. Tony wipes away Peter’s tears, “Hey, what are the tears for? I’m okay, Pete.”

Peter shakes his head, “I-I thought you were dead and you would have died saving me and I can’t-” Peter sobs. “I can’t let you die when you don’t know that you’re my dad and I didn’t tell you and if you had died before I could then I would have already lost my third father and I don’t think I could live through that again.”

Tony is frozen, staring at Peter with a stunned expression, “I-I’m your dad? What do you mean?”

Peter, still shaking, looks down at his hands, “In the letter from-from my mom she told me that you’re my biological dad.” Peter can’t stomach the thought of looking up at Tony’s face, seeing the disgust he must be feeling clear on his face. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. Bruce is running a paternity test right now,” Peter says softly. “I-I’m sorry, I know you don’t want kids and that I’m-”

“Peter,” Tony takes Peter’s hands in his own. “Can you look at me, bud?” Peter slowly brings his gaze up to meet Tony’s eyes. To his surprise, Tony smiles. “I didn’t want kids, but then I met you. You changed everything for me, kid. You made me realize that I can love people without hurting them and that I can be trusted to take care of a child.” Tony reaches up and cups Peter’s cheek, “I would be honored to be your father.”

Peter smiles warmly and leans into the touch as the door opens and Bruce walks in, “Peter, the results are back for the paternity test.” Peter and Tony exchange a hopeful glance and Tony nods to Bruce.

Bruce looks at the weepy pair in front of him and smiles, “It’s a match.” Tony gasps and crushes Peter into a hug, one hand tangled in his hair. Peter feels Tony’s warm tears fall onto his head, he smiles. Tony loves him. Tony wants to be his father. “Congratulations,” Bruce smiles. “I’ll give you boys another moment, and Tony I’ll check on you in a few, okay?”

“Thank you, Bruce,” Tony says over Peter’s head. Peter feels Tony press a kiss to the top of his head and he looks up with a smile. The way Tony looks at him is so... reverent it's almost painful.

"I have a kid," Tony says dreamily. "Oh my god."

"I have a dad," Peter smiles back. He lays his head back down on Tony's shoulder.

"And I'm not going anywhere," Tony promises. "You're going to be stuck with me for a long long time, kiddo."

Peter can't help the smile at the words and nuzzles closer to Tony as the man traps Peter’s head with his hand and kisses the top of his head. “I love you, kid,” Tony whispers.

“I love you too,” Peter responds, his voice just as low. Peter takes a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine.

#my fic #friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #spiderman #iron man #spiderson #spiderson fic #irondad #irondad fic

113 notes · View notes

san--shine · 5 years

Text

My fansign experience (10.04.2019)

Soooo after 2 months here finally comes my fansign experience. I will try to keep it short but still it will be way to long so I will place it under the cut after Hongjoong. I hope I don’t make anyone sad or something and it can make you smile a bit maybe~

Hongjoong

When I came up to him and told him that I am nervous he instantly told me not to be nervous and tried to make me laugh. When I asked him why he said that I am cute when I laught. He then proceed to laugh with me about my post-it question which was telling me the mental ages of the members. Afterwards we still had time since Seonghwa was still busy so I let him guess my age. He asked if he should guess in korean or german age and I told him that he could decide and he decided on german age. He then leaned back and proceed to drag his gaze up and down until he settled on my eyes. And guess what. He said 23 which is kinda right since I tun 23 later this year. We were both so surprised since normally noone guesses my age right and he was surprised probably that he got it right and that I am older than them ^^

For the general vibes he gave me during the fansign: He has such a calm and funny vibe. He was nervous, you could tell, but he was always sure of himself and about what he was saying to you. Truly the perfect leader who did everything he could to calm you down or make you laugh depending on what he thought would help you more ~

Seonghwa

Let me give you something of his trained english: “HI, oh you bought shiber with you. How are you.” ... “Nervous? Me too, so nervous.” He leaned so close while we were talking. His post-it question was about his favorite korean food. And he asked me if I have ever eaten Ramen in the end and I was like “Yeah yesterday before the concert.” He was so surprised, happy and excited and was telling me that he actually ate ramen 10 minutes before the fansign and that I shouldn’t tell anyone ^^ In the end he gave Shiber a pat and said that I should come to Korea to eat with him. Poor baby was wearing so much make up tho.

Seonghwa has such a calming vibe. Like, I literally thought I would freak out while sitting in front of him. But he hold eye contact all the time and let me tell you, you could see his eyes shining with happiness. He was so happy and it managed to calm me down instantly. I don't know how often he told me how nervous he is too. It makes you feel so much better knowing that they were struggling with nervousness too.

Yunho

The first thing after he read my name was saying how muched he loves my name. He also loved that I am becoming a teacher. Though he guessed that I'm a English teacher since my english was so good. When I tried to explain him what I am studying he was struggling to understand what I mean with the word math but he understood biology. After he read my post-it note (where I asked him to write down some encouraging words for studying) he asked me why. So I told him that I was struggling with university and was scared to actually fail it in the end. Yunho said that I should always study hard and that whenever I feel that it gets to much that I should know that he will think about me. I told him that he is cute when I got up to get to Yeosang and he got so shy ~

Yunho gives the BIGGEST boyfriend vibes! Idk. It's so hard to describe actualy. But he was so curious about my studying and teaching. And I think he kinda felt bad that he didn't understood a word, but hyped me up anyway. I got the feeling that you could tell him everything and anything and he would listen to you! He always looked to endluged in whatever atiny was telling him. If you ever need someone to just listen to your rambles and then tell you that everything will be alright you will love him!

Yeosang

He. Is. So. Cute. And.. he didn't shave^^ He had so much make up on his face trying to conceal it but you could see it clearly. It was so adorable. And he was wearing blue contact lenses. Oof. I asked him to sort all member into Hogwarts Houses (because I knew from a gc beforehand that Yunho would get that question like 3 times already) and he was so eager to do it. He struggled with some word but I had written the house names in the original colors so that helped him. Actually he asked me to help him sort after a while and it was so much fun (San was watching me while doing it because he was bored but I will scream about it later). It was especially funn when we had written down 7 members and we both were looking down left and right wondering who we forgot to sort (it was Jongho btw) :D

Yeosangs vibes are just.. He is so cute. The cutest. You could actually see in his eyes how nervous he was, but he tried his best to talk to you. His english might be broken but he was so sweet trying so hard to make you understand what he was saying. He used up so much time talking to Atiny, the staff in the back almost always tapped him on his shoulder and saying that he was taking too long. And he gave me and others such a good and calming vibe because of it. Like a rock in a waterstream or something. If I ever had a problem I would go to him and he would just hold me and tell me it's fine.

San

OMG San. First of all, before I even got a chance to meet him, he- ugh. Let me tell you something. I was sitting first row, number 17, when I had to get up to start getting in line he still had no one sitting in front of him. So he saw me picking up Shiber and getting in line (I didn’t saw that). A bit later when I was waiting in line I watched the members one by one because I felt like somebody was watching me. San.. He was starring at me. Because he saw me waiting there with a Shiber plushie. When we locked eyes he made a sign like “I am watching you, just you wait until you get here” and was smiling so brightly. When he had to look away because atiny sat in front of him I broke down. I actually found myself sitting on the floor you can’t fcking believe!

Okay so when it was my turn to talk to him he was waiting for me (Later in pictures and videos I could see that he actually really was waiting. He looked at me and even had the fcking decency to tilt his head and everyone says his eyes screamed “cute” while he was watching me talking and discussing with Yeosang). The first thing he did was scolding Shiber: "Hey Shiber. What are you doing? You are supposed to be in my bed! What are you doing in her lap, hmm?" It was so funny but I got a bit defencive I guess because I answered: "he's here to protect me because I'm nervous" He just looked up to me and smiled?!! And then to Shiber again: "Good Shiber. From no on you protect her and make her smile for me yeah?" I DIED. When he looked down to write in the album he had his hand open on the table for me to hold it, like an open gesture, but I was so shy. I took it tho after a short while and he smiled and HAD THE FCKINGASLJHDFALSJD sorry.. he pulled his fingers in so my hand was touching him more (what freaking fanfiction is this). And actually, it helped so much to calm me down. He wasn't surprised at all about the kkt groupchat I am in and he was happy about it translating everything he wrote down so I could tell them in the groupchat how much he appreciates them. I had a second question prepared, because I am selfish like that where I basically told him that he is the dimple kind and if I could be his dimple queen (since I have dimplse too) San just smiled and said that I can be his queen ~ He high fived me, smiling down at our hands and even continues talking to me while I was already sitting in front of Mingi (I’m sorry Mingi sweetheart).

Now his vibes: Like.. oof. You just sit in front of him and get all kind of different vibes from him at once. Cute. Handsome. Maybe even get a bit scared if he comes to close. Boyfriend. Soft. Respect. But his voice is so soft, it makes you feel all kind of things. And he respects you so much. Like, the others hold their hands up so you can touch and high five them and he just hold his on the table in front of me (I actually didn’t saw him doing it for anyone else) and let me choose if I wanted to hold hands or not. Such a happy vibe

Mingi

Mingi sunshine I’m so sorry again ^^. But still so much fun honestly. The first thing he did was greeting Shiber and then got cut of by San because he still wanted to talk to me (I’m so sorry Mingi, I couldn’t help myself. How should I say no to San?!) While San and I were talking he signed my album silently. He was so glad that I translated the question and wrote it down in english and korean (my question for him was to list his 3 favorite things to do in his spare time). He was so happy about his question and so he wrote down his answers way to fast. And then he tried to translate them for me (Eat, listening to music, going to the sauna). He asked me which ateez concept of the album I like more the red or the black one. I said black and he was surprised and tried defending the red side ^^

He has such little lost baby kitten vibes. Mingi has so much energy in him and you could see he wanted to just run around. Especially in the end it seems to get really hard for him to just sit still. He was so active he even managed to knock over his water bottle while talking to one of the first atinys xD

Wooyoung

My baby Wooyoung. He was so nervous and looked so scared and insecure. I just wanted to hug him, but of course I wasn’t allowed. When he read my name he was confused because I wrote it normally and in korean. But instead of a “j” I used an “i” in the korean version because it sounds like an i if you pronouce it. I tried to explain to him why I wrote it like this, but I don’t think he understood. While he was signing he started to sing to one of the songs playing in the background but stopped when I joined quietly. I felt so betrayed ^^ He smiled about the question (I asked him what I could do to make him happy) He didn’t translate what he wrote down and I needed 2 weeks to get it translated (work on your fcking handwriting woo baby) Sadly we didn’t talk at all while he was writing. Of course I don’t know the reason for it. I actually think it was because I was one of the first and he was still too nervous, because I saw him smiling and opening up more and more while the fansign went on. When he gave me a high five he intertwined our fingers and said he is happy just like this. I told him that he is cute especially when he smiles and that he is loved by me and Atiny. He got so shy and said thank you ~

Wooyoung was so shy. You know how he always acts so confident, but he is such a shy bean and insecure. And he is pure. So we two were actually just two shy beans sitting in front of each other that didn’t know what to do. But he still has much more confidence than I do. The bit we talked were all initiated by him ^^

Jongho

Jongho is so precious. And he just basically overflows with confidence. I was a wreck when I finally came to him but he was so nice and understandable. His english is really good and you could see that he knows what effect he had. His post-it not was to rank his members from the funniest to the lamest. He started but then decided he want my opinion too. So we sorted them together when he struggled with deciding who was funnier. He smiled so much at me and holds deep eye contact while talking actually. We laughed together about his hippo head and the choices he made on the post-it. When I needed to get up he told me I was cute (this btch). I told him he was cute too and he didn't believe me (maybe because of the hippopotamus head). Since he was sitting in front of me we had some cute moments when he was bored. Looking and smiling at me, encouraging me to take pictures of him

Jongho gives really down to earth vibes. He was so calm. Sure he was confident but he was bubbling with energy and happines you could see in his eyes how he was containing himself. And the respect he gives you. I was red as a tomato when I finally reached him (I saw that on video, so no one can tell me otherwise), but he talked normally with me ignoring my internal struggles. He only broke when I told him that he's cute :D

Final words

This fansign was THE best day in my life so far.

If you ever get the chance to meet them or you are struggling to decide if you wanna try to see them just do it. Its worth the stress and the money and your time. (The fansign actually cost me less than the concert ^^)

They ruined my biaslist those 2 days completly. Yunho at the concert and everyone else at the fansign. San is still on top and will forever stay there tho.

I hope you had fun reading my little rant ~<3

301 notes · View notes

ladyemberswrites · 5 years

Note

Request: vld Lotor get too much emocional when he is drunk. Allura have a hard time deal with his drama. (Think in this as a comedy)

After Shiro had disappeared, Allura felt that she had been keeping things held together by the strings, even when Shiro came back, he hadn’t exactly been himself either and with Keith out the picture she’s back to square one keeping everything put by the skin of her teeth. Now, with Lotor in the picture, an enemy, now ally, she thinks she's found some like-minded and no nonsensed; only to find that he might not be as calm and collected as he portrays himself to be. That under the facade, and out of the public eye, he’s a dysfunctionally mess.

Allura isn't sure whether it's the alcohol or perhaps because he hasn't slept in weeks, regardless of the cause, she finds herself bewildered, caught between a hard place and an equally harder one.

She's alone, dressed in her suit , Voltron had made a brief visit to a rebel base in Yunar, a moon south of here. The people there were ...begrudging to say the least about the newfound alliance between Voltron and Emperor Lotor. Upon returning she had made a detour from the rest of the team to inform Lotor about had transpired.

"The Emperor's in his lab" Morgil, a guard she believed, answered her queries about the new Emperor's whereabouts.

"Lab? Didn't know he had one?"

"He's there often" he yawns, unabashedly.

"Is he busy?"

"Don't know. I don't think I've seen him come out of it, actually"

Allura frowned softly "What do you mean?"

"I mean-he hasn't come out from there in days, weeks since your return from Ori-whats-it"

"Oriande. She corrects "has no one checked on him"

"Besides me and Dayak. Not particularly." He shakes his head " He's in one of his-moods again." He mutters flippantly.

Allura isn't sure what to say.

"If I were you, I'd leave before you see something that'll make you lose respect for him"

Wrinkling her nose, she felt offended on his behalf "is that anyway to speak of your Emperor?" She plants her hand on her hips.

"Well no." Scratching the side of his face " But, I'm talking from experience. I've seen how he gets with alcohol in his system"

"Alcohol?"

"To be fair he has to-like drink pounds of that stuff to send him over the edge."

"Drinking!?"

"Yeah, he's drunk. In fact, he's been on a drinking binge since you left"

"I-and you've just left him to drink himself into a coma!"

"You try getting between him and alcohol when he's completely plastered"

Invigorated with a righteous fury, she has Mogril to lead her to his labs. He does so without qualms, but out right refuses to enter said lab no matter what she said. She sniffed, she wasn't going to ask in the first place.

Upon entering, she found herself met with a dark, dreary basement. The structure eerily reminded her of Haggar's lair, but somehow creepier, the creak of the air conditioner did little to soothe the worry gnawing at the back of her mind.

"Lotor?"

No answer.

It's surprisingly cool down here as she carefully watched her step, diving further and further into the bowels of Lotor's lab with her heart wavering the closer and closer she got the bottom.

"Emperor Lotor?"

Still no answer. Only her voice echoing off the steel reinforced walls. Swallowing, she reaches the bottom and is led into a large room that might as well be a hanger room. She found rows of computer screens, and vacant chairs and tables filled with clutter.

"Emperor Lotor?"

The only sound is her footsteps.

Quietly, she placed her helmet on one of the tables to only spy a large piece of grafting paper on it is a blueprint for something? She squinted her eyes, leaning closer "Delta:Project?"

It looked like a gate. A massive one. The blueprints she realized were scribbled in a language she's never seen before, its erratic and shaky, and she can't make out the symbols or alphabet if that what it is.

"I wonder what this is for?" Knowing she probably shouldn't, she touched it, the paper smooth under the tips of her fingers. But, nothing happened, it's not like she's going to magically understand anything written on here, all she knew is that it's Lotor's handwriting.

Speaking of which she hasn't seen hair nor hide of him, and she's beginning to think he might not be down here. Moving away from the strange papers, she found the walls actually had writing on them this time mathematical formulas that she couldn't even fathom to understand, but again it's in Lotor's handwriting.

"Why would he-feet?" Allura blinked, unsure if she were seeing things again, as she rubbed both her eyes, figuring the lack of sleep might be getting to her, she found a pair of boots sticking out behind one of the metallic desks.

Far more curious than outright alarmed she crossed over cautiously to find the boots attached to the one person she had been looking for, sprawled out on the floor. She blinked again with a furrowed brow; he's not wearing his armor, and now that she brought it up realized she had never seen him without it. Layers of black and dark purple robbing with a cape attached to his shoulders and hair tied up.

When did he wear hooped earrings?

If she didn't know any better he looked as if he had been prepared for his own funeral. With his hands crossed over his stomach and eyes closed.

But, his chest is moving so he's alive.

"Um-Emperor?" She whispers.

His lips twitched.

"I'm busy, Yayamei. Leave me to my torment" he mumbled.

Her eye fidgeted.

"Yayamei? I'm not this Yayamei. Lotor, it's me, Allura!"

Finally, he prys his eyes open "Allura? Sweetheart is that you" he lifts his head up slightly.

The endearment, sweetheart, barely registers in her mind, the creeping flush of her cheeks went ignored.

"Y-yes" she stammered "but, the question is what on earth are you doing on the floor" his head falls back.

"Contemplating"

"Er-contemplating? Is this about Oriande" she dared to ask knowing it had been a sore sore spot for him, since their return.

"Oriande? Oriande? Ah, yes, Oriande….."

"Lotor, are you-are you okay?"

"Besides, my whole entire life being a carefully constructed lie? No."

"You mean no you aren't okay, or no I am okay"

"Neither" he supplied "Speaking of which, your back, love" the topic is dropped like a sack of hammers. Allura's sure she heard a thud somewhere.

Her lips twisted "I-I am. Remember, I told you I had to go to Yunar"

"Ah. Yes. Yunar. Yes." He sits up, a few strands of hair fall in front of his face, as he stands to his full height, dusting off his clothing and readjusting the golden sash around his hips.

"And how was this Yunar"

Allura grimaced. She's absolutely out of her element here. This is different, Lotor's acting very different from the man she "knows". In the short time, she's known him, Lotor had been nothing but calm and composed. Collected and unnerved by anything.

She's lost and more importantly confused by this odd display of behavior, Mogril said that had been on a drinking binge, but she hadn't seen a bottle of booze yet.

"It definitely went better than expected. Though, everyone's still wary of you and the Galra Empire, but they’re willing to put differences aside only in the heed that you'll met with the Yunar leaders."

"I see, I see" he starts wandering around the room with no destination in mind "do they have a date in mind. I have many meetings. Much to do, so little time" he rambles.

“That’s what I came here to talk to you about. When would be a good time for you to come to Yunar?”

“Any time after this month I believe” she’s hit with a wave of relief she had been expecting something far later, but this is good. The sooner, the better “I still have generals to appoint, such...and such” he waved his hand around as he paced around the room, apparently searching for something particular.

“Which begs the question” she changed the topic “about the ships? Shouldn’t we start on a course for developing them, if we want to put most of the fighting to an end”

He didn’t reply this time “Emperor” he stopped near a table placed in the center of the room, feeling aggravated, she huffed through her nose and approached him from behind “Emperor. Are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

More paper-blueprints this time of ships and ship parts and again more erratic writing in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“Yes. The ships. I haven’t forgotten. See” he gestures towards the many blueprints.

Her previous annoyance abates “oh. Is this what you have been up to?”

“More or less, my dear” again with the endearments. And again she tries her best to ignore them “I’ve been trying to find a way to make them efficient in every manner of the word. Not to heavy, but not light enough that the r rift will rip them apart. The alchemical process of creating them is about the least of our issues when you consider the expenses.”

“I-” she blinked rather dumbly “I hadn’t considered that”

“As I reform our new empire there is much to consider. Many will not be to keen on the throne mindlessly throwing money away at a single chance that might not bare fruit. Perhaps even end in catsophere. The rift is a huge blind area, little is known about it, what’s in it or what happens to one after entering said place. As evident with my father. The effects are massively unpredictable. I can’t blame my people, not after the reign of terror that my father has brought on them. My private funds might be able to hold us for a while, but not forever.”

“Your meticulously creepy sometimes.”

“When your in my position you must consider all angles.”

“I understand. This really does set us back, doesn’t it. There is much to think about. The paladins are already wary enough about the rift, and I can only imagine what the rebels might think of this too.” it’d be all to easy to give this up, but she won’t, she’s gotten this far, there must be a way. There has to be.

“But, I won’t give-what are you doing?” it was now that she noticed that had a small device in his hand, and he's holding down a button down on it.

“Recording this conversation”

“Why!?”

“There’s a ninety percent chance I won’t remember this.”

Her mouth propped open, brows pinched “I’m incredibly drunk at the moment”

“You don’t do that often do you”

“All the time. I have hyperthymesia, or is that an eidetic memory.” he rubbed his temple “I can’t remember”

“That would mean you’d remember everything! If that’s the case you don’t need to be recording our conversations!”

“if I were sober yes."

“Please don’t do that” which begs the question how long had he been doing that. She honestly, didn’t want to know the answer to that question, the notion of it is just undeniably creepy in a sense, but she needed to know “do you do this all the time?”

“Only when I’m drunk, darling”

Allura frowned her eyes flickering back to the blueprints. Intricate and detailed, there’s no way he did all this plastered “did you draw all this”

“Mh” he follows her gaze “yes.”

“While, inebriated”

“Yes.”

“Do you always work while drinking, that doesn’t seem very…” she searched for a nicer word than the ones that came to mind.

“Professional.” he offered “ It isn’t. But, not all the time, but most times.”

“Why?”

“It’s better than nothing I suppose. Well, I use to use Methylenedioxymethamphetamine, but than that disaster occurred on J’aseera. Afterwards, I went clean. Mostly.”

“What?”

“Ecstasy" Allura presses her lips together she didn't know whether to be angry, puzzled, annoyed or just simply done with this farce.

"What do mean by mostly?"

He breaks out into laughter "How do you think I get any of this stuff done, my dear, sitting around working normal hours? I usually take a dose to keep myself going"

"Doesn't the quintessence in your system already make it so you can forgo sleep for long periods of time."

"Yes, and no"

"Stop be vague and answer the question"

"Yes, it does, but only a weeks top, the ecstasy usually boosts the side effects. Plus, with only quintessence your motor skills start to diminish"

Her brow twitched "when's the last time you've slept?"

"Three weeks top." He paused "I think"

"That is incredibly unhealthy and dangerous!"

"I know"

Her mouth snapped closed and she inhaled sharply "What do you mean"I know" she mimicked his low baritone " if you knew you wouldn't be endangering your health like this! As the newly ordained Emperor of the Galra Empire your well-being should an absolute priority! You have people lead, you can't do that always drunk and drugged! Apparently."

He looks at her lazily, smirking which only fueled the anger coursing through her veins, she did not think this situation is at all something worth smirking about "you care that much about me, Allura?" He cocks a brow "and here I thought you despised me. Really, I'm quite flattered.

"I-Ugh-what makes you think I hate you? We're allies aren't we"

"I figured our alliance is more out of reluctance than actual interest"

"You proved yourself, didn't you. You haven't given me a reason not to trust you"

"But, you don't trust me. I know deep down you expect me to be my father. In some ways worse than him"

Allura's heart stilled in her chest "I-you don't put words in my mouth, Emperor" she crossed her arms over her chest, looking away pointedly.

"It's fine if you wish to feign ignorance. I don't hold it against you." Her shoulders drop before her gaze flickers back to him, still smirking that stupid smirk. He really wanted to slap it off his stupid, handsome face.

The red flush of her cheeks returned "thinking of something, darling" he tilts his head.

"Absolutely not!" She snapped "get your bloody head out the gutter, you pervert" out of all the things she didn't think he'd be a lech. A drunk lech nonetheless.

"I'm wounded over your accusations, Princess"

"And I'm wounded by your tasteless behavior" she sniffed.

"Your beautiful"

"I stink. I haven't bathed in a week. The Yunar aren't particularly well-known for their hygiene."

"Speaking of which" another change in topics. Again. It's like his mind couldn't stay focused on one thing for too long "I had something I needed to give you"

Tried, she offered him the driest look she could give him "and that is?"

"I left it in my private quarters."

Lovely.

Thanks anon for the request!

#lotura #lollura #requests #allura x lotor #lotor x allura

8 notes · View notes

redeyedryu · 5 years

Text

Apathy & Happenstance

Chapter 9 - Introspection and Preparation [Ao3] | 1 | 8 | x |

It occurs to me that I forgot to post the update here. Whoops... So in case you don’t read it on Ao3, here’s the 9th chapter of AAH. Bear in mind that the vote presented at the bottom is no longer open.

Summary: Papyrus puts together a shopping list and Sans is still a sweaty mess.

You wake up around ten-thirty, a half hour before your alarm. That gives you about an hour before you need to head in for your afternoon shift at the grocery store. It takes you about ten minutes to actually will yourself out of bed and another thirty to finish getting ready for the day, leaving you with about twenty extra to spare.

As you pad your way towards the kitchen, tulip tie and apron in hand, you navigate through the contacts on your phone, stopping at “Sans the (Blue) Skeleton”. You shoot him a quick text per your agreement (it simply reads: Not dead) and drop the tie and apron on the small dining table, next to where you had abandoned your bag last night.

Sans is sitting at the table, scribbling something on a loose piece of paper, his grin set in a frown and eye sockets creased in concentration.

It’s so weird how malleable the bone of skeleton monsters is and you wonder if you’ll ever grow accustomed to it.

Pliable bone aside, whatever Sans is writing down must be important—he didn’t even acknowledge you when you dropped your things on the table. You cast a glance at the piece of paper, curious, but can’t make heads or tails of his chicken scratch. You’re tempted to ask what he’s doing but ultimately decide against it. It’s not really any of your business, is it? You do, however, make a mental note to grab him one of your spare notebooks. Lord knows you have an overabundance of them. A few pens wouldn’t hurt either (you have an even larger collection of those).

A quick scan of the room reveals that Papyrus is in the kitchen once again, his back to you, arms braced on the counter, and you’re relieved that he has yet to turn anything into rancid-smelling charcoal. It looks like he hasn’t even attempted to start cooking, actually. You quirk a brow, noting he seems to be inspecting something quite intensely on the counter-top.

Leaving Sans to his scribbling, you come up beside Papyrus to find he has one of your cookbooks cracked open and that he’s perusing the pasta section. Does he like pasta? He had mentioned attempting to make “breakfast lasagna” yesterday, though you still have questions about that disaster. First of all, you didn’t even have lasagna so what sort of pasta had he even been messing with? Eh, whatever. Yesterday’s problems and all that.

“Did the cookbook threaten to devour your kneecaps or something? You’re staring at it awful hard there, sir.”

“HARDLY.” Papyrus scoffs. He tilts his skull slightly, taking in your appearance before quickly returning his attention to scrutinizing the book. “I AM MERELY DOING RESEARCH ON HUMAN CUISINE.”

You quirk a brow at that. Is there that much of a difference between human and monster food? You're rather reluctant to inquire, as that would require admitting that in all this time since monsters’ liberation, you had yet to partake in any of their food. You certainly had several opportunities to sample it but had always politely declined or offered up an excuse.

You ponder that for a moment. Why have you been avoiding monster food? Sure the monster populace in your city is quite small, being as far from Mt. Ebott as it is, but that isn't to say it’s non-existent. Heck, one of the supervisors at the grocery store is a bipedal rabbit monster who often brings in homemade cinnamon bunnies.

Maybe you should try one the next time she brings them in….

“Ah, before I forget,” you abruptly say, shelving the self-reflection for now, and with a snap, you point at the skeleton beside you. “I’m working at a grocery store today and figured I could pick up a couple things when I get off. Was there anything y’all wanted? I know we carry a few monster products if you… uh…” The sentence trails off as you catch sight of Papyrus’s expression. You turn your head just slightly to the side, brows furrowing. Why is he looking at you like that?

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you voice the thought.

Those dark, empty pits of blackness are staring at you again. You expect him to say something but he merely continues to watch you, the moment stretching awkwardly as a shudder works its way up your spine.

“What did I say?” you press, not knowing what to make of Papyrus’s behavior.

Another beat of silent staring passes and you feel your muscles tensing. For what, you're not entirely sure.

When Papyrus finally lets out a very subdued chuckle, quickly followed by a few more that sound suspiciously like “nyeh heh heh”, the tension eases. He turns to face you, hip resting against the counter, and brings a bony palm to drape across his eyelids.

You're baffled, to say the least.

“Uh…?”

“YOU ARE A CURIOUS PUZZLE, AREN’T YOU, HUMAN?” Papyrus eventually manages, hand dropping away from his face, though he now has his arms crossed over his chest.

You squint at the skeleton. What is that supposed to mean…?

He merely shakes his head with one last chuckle and says, “IF YOU ARE OFFERING, THERE ARE A FEW THINGS I WOULDN'T MIND YOU ‘PICKING UP’ FOR ME.”

That's a really weird way to word it—it almost comes off as belittling, especially with the inflection he used at the end there, but whatever. You’ve already decided that the skeletons are weird.

“Okay,” you respond. “Let me go nab something for you to write on.” You don't wait for his reply as you run back to your room.

You snatch the palm-sized notebook sitting atop the nightstand, flipping it open to a blank page. It’s your go-to for making little notes and lists to yourself so it should be perfect.

Just as you’re moving to leave the room you remember Sans and his loose-leaf scribbling. You nab a couple small notebooks (they're no bigger than your hand) from the bookshelf squished up against the wall and a random assortment of pens.

Once you're back in the kitchen you hand Papyrus the notebook and a pen, instructing him to write down what he and his brother would like or need most.

“I can't guarantee we carry everything you write down but I'll get what I can,” you tell him, leaving out that you've never even perused the monster food section, so you can't even say what the store does stock.

“I SUPPOSE IT’S NOT SURPRISING THAT A HUMAN ESTABLISHMENT WOULD HAVE A RATHER MEDIOCRE SELECTION.” is all Papyrus says on the matter, before attending to building his list. He doesn't see how you quirk a brow.

“Uh huh,” you reply before leaving him to it.

As the large skeleton works, you give your phone a quick glance and, noting the time, realize you should probably head out soon. You go to gather your things at the table, stopping to tap Sans on the shoulder to grab his attention. You don't miss the way he seems to flinch at your touch, nor the way sweat begins beading along the crown of his skull. He’s even more huddled over the scrap piece of paper than when you left him, and you notice several areas where he’s completely scratched out whatever he had written.

“Here,” you say as he twists to face you, eye lights flicking from your face to the hand with your offerings.

He doesn't immediately accept so you shake the notebooks at him. “You looked like you could use these.” You press, and he finally takes the hint; his brows furrow and the corners of his shark-toothed smile dip into a frown. A few droplets of that red-tinted, magical sweat of his roll down the sides of his skull. He doesn't move to accept the proffered notebooks. In fact, he looks about ready to protest, maw parting, so you quickly tell him, “I've got plenty.”

His jaws snap shut with an audible click. A moment passes in which he does little more than stare at you, eye sockets squinted and frown ever present, before his expression finally shifts. The ridges of bone above his eyes raise and he grins a toothy grin. He’s still a sweaty mess, though.

“why sweetheart,” he says, folding his arms behind his head and leaning into the back of his chair. As his eye sockets dip closed he continues, “didn’t know ya cared ‘bout this ol’ bag a bones so much.”

Your expression goes dry and you give the skeleton a flat look. You drop the notebooks and pens on the table before him.

“Gross,” you say. “Don't call me sweetheart.” And with that, you get back to gathering your things, completely ignoring the deep chuckles rumbling from the shark-toothed skeleton. Your phone’s stuffed in a pocket, tulip tie jammed into your bag, which is then slung over a shoulder, and apron gathered and draped over an arm. That done, you head back to the kitchen.

Papyrus is leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed. His eye sockets are shut, brow ridges raised, as a single gloved finger tap, tap, taps against the exposed bone of his upper arm. In his opposite hand you notice the notebook you had lent him.

“You done?”

His finger immediately ceases tapping out its rhythm at the sound of your voice. He cracks open a single, empty socket. A beat passes as the two of you simply stare at one another (what is up with this guy and dramatic, silent stare-downs?) before Papyrus decides he’s had enough. Legs uncrossing, he pushes himself from the counter, the hand holding the notebook lifting from his chest while the other remains wrapped around his ribs.

“HUMAN,” he says as he all but throws the notebook at you. You fumble a bit, nearly dropping it a couple times, but ultimately succeed in catching it. Thankfully, you manage to avoid any paper cuts. “I HAVE COMPLETED THE LIST.” he continues, “I TRUST YOU DON’T NEED ME TO CLARIFY ANYTHING ON IT.”

You glance at the notebook and absently note that unlike his brother, Papyrus’s handwriting is quite neat and uniform, with everything written in block letters. A quick skim of the page tells you that no, you don’t need him to clarify anything.

“Yeah, you’re good,” you tell him as you shift your bag down your shoulder and quickly stuff the notebook into it. “Thanks, boss.”

As you turn to exit the kitchen, intent on making your way out, you think you hear the tall skeleton sputter. Odd, but whatever.

As you ready yourself at the door, nabbing your keys and sliding into your shoes, you remember that you still have yet to set boundaries and ground rules with your impromptu skeletal roommates. You should probably address that. You call to the brothers from over your shoulder, informing them that, “When I get home tonight we need to talk about ground rules and boundaries.”

You hear a grunt of acknowledgement from Sans while Papyrus’s booming voice replies, “YES, GOOD IDEA, HUMAN!”

Alright, cool. That’s one thing almost done and out of the way. Hopefully it doesn’t escape your mind again by the time you get back….

With all your things gathered and prepared, you open the door, calling over your shoulder to the brothers one last time. You tell them, “I’m heading out now. I’ll be back in about seven hours. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone!” and make your escape.

It’s as you’re driving to work that a random thought comes to mind: today marks the third day of the brothers having arrived in your universe with nothing more than the clothes on their back. Not only that, but it’s also their third day on the surface and as far as you know, they have yet to step foot outside. You’re going to have to do something about that. You’ll have to double check your schedule but you’re pretty sure you don’t have to work either of your jobs tomorrow. Maybe you can take the guys out?

Your mind’s made up. Tomorrow you’ll take the boys out. The question now, however, is where will you take them?

* To the thrift shop downtown.

* To the large shopping mall near the interstate.

#Red Drabbles #Undertale Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Apathy and Happenstance #tenth chapter is roughly halfway written

35 notes · View notes

lovelylunarwriting · 6 years

Text

Slytherin!Jeonghan x Ravenclaw!Reader

Jeonghan has managed to score the highest on every test so far in the Muggle Studies class you happen to share with him, and you have absolutely no idea how.

All he does in class is sleep at his desk, blanket cape and all.

Like yes, it’s an early class but at least try?? please.

That’s the thing though- he doesn’t try at all but he still aces every assessment, which makes you equally curious and livid.

No matter how confident you are in the material, Jeonghan always manages to score just a little better.

Something seems sketchy about a guy who never pays attention but gets A’s on every test, so you confide in your friends your frustrations with the situation.

You: “So what do you guys think?”

Mingyu: “Umm….”

Vernon: “Maybe he’s-”

Seungkwan: “Oh Jeonghan is SO cheating”

Mingyu: “He can’t cheat if he’s not in a relationship, man”

Seungkwan: “No- he’s not cheat on someone, he’s cheating on the tests”

Vernon: “That’s cheating yourself if you really think about it”

Mingyu: “How?? Exactly?”

Vernon: “He’s cheating himself out of the power of knowledge”

Seungkwan: “...philosophical ramblings aside- Y/N, you have to catch him in the act”

You: “Me?? Why me?”

Mingyu: “Well you’re the only one this is really bothering. The rest of us couldn’t care less what he does, to be honest”

You: “Thank you Mingyu for your ever apparent tactfulness”

Seungkwan: “I’ll help you if you want! We just need a plan”

Vernon: “Cast a spell on the papers”

You: “You want me to what”

Vernon: “Cast a spell on the tests that will reveal that he’s cheating”

You: “If he’s cheating”

Vernon: “Same difference. There’s gotta be a spell for something like that, right?”

You: “I’m sure there is… I’ll go hit the books”

Mingyu: “What did the books ever do to you?!”, he says jokingly.

Vernon: “...that was lame, even for you”

On that note, you leave the boys and make your way over to the library in search of a suitable spell.

You stroll on in and wave to Madam Pince, the head librarian, who smiles and waves back.

To most people, she’s a devil of a woman, but she likes you because you’re never too loud and always open to learning something new.

Weaving your way through each aisle, you slip book after book into the crook of your arm.

Deciding that seven thick volumes of spell casting books is a good enough start, you set the books on an empty table, plop yourself down on the cushy chair, and dive straight in.

A couple of pages into the first book and it’s clear that the spells are way too harsh. The goal is to catch him cheating, not light his hair on fire every time he winks.

The next one is spells for household cleaning. Handy, but ultimately not the task at hand.

The third book has just the right spell, a text-transfer spell. It’s applicable to many different situations, and should be the perfect fit for catching cheaters.

How the spell works is you cast it on a surface, and when the object you say during the spell comes into contact with the surface, it will transfer the message you traced with your wand onto the surface onto whoever is in contact with the object that came into contact with the surface.

So basically, if Jeonghan is using an auto-answer quill (the object) to do his test (the surface), the message you trace onto the test paper in advance will mark him as cheating.

Or at least, that’s the hope. Spells can come out wonky sometimes, regardless of how well you prepare in casting them.

The next day, you share your plan with the newly-learned spell to your friends to see if they think it’ll work.

Vernon: “I always knew you were the smart one, but damn”

Mingyu: “It’s been literally a day and you already have a master plan”

Seungkwan: “I wouldn’t say master plan, but it is a good place to start. How are you going to cast the spell on every single test before the professor passes them out?”

You: “That,,,,,, is a great question”

Vernon: “I can get you into the classroom the night before”

You: “How exactly??”

Vernon: “I just can- trust me on this. When is the next test?”

You: “Tomorrow morning”

Vernon: “Okay, then meet me outside the Muggle Studies classroom tonight at 7 and I’ll get you in”

You: “...that seems sketchy but I really don’t have any other options, do I”

Seungkwan: “We could get Minghao to kick down the door?”

You: “Yeah, because that’s real inconspicuous. I’ll stick with Vernon on this one”

Later that night, you linger outside the Muggle Studies classroom fives minutes before seven.

Just because you’re breaking into a locked classroom to alter tests doesn’t mean that you’re careless enough to not be punctual.

Vernon meanders on over a quarter past seven. What is it with Gryffindors and being late for everything…

Before you can finish that thought, Vernon pulls a massive ring of keys out of his hoodie pocket.

You: “How??”

Vernon: “I’m friends with the custodian, Frank. He lent me his keys”

You: “He just,,,, gave them to you? What did you tell him you were going to use them for?”

Vernon: “I told him about your plan and the whole Jeonghan situation, and Frank also says that he thinks Jeonghan is probably cheating one way or another”

You: “Wait- you told him you were going to use them to get into this locked classroom and he willingly gave you the keys??”

Vernon: “Yes. What is so difficult for you about that?”

You: “All of it. But we’re on a time crunch here, so let’s get to work”

After eleven unsuccessful attempts at opening the door, Vernon finally finds the right key and makes his way into the class, you following shortly after.

The two of you easily spot the stack of tests on the professor’s desk and get to work, with you casting spells on every test and Vernon standing guard at the door.

A very tedious and repetitive hour later, the tests have all been tampered with and carefully placed back onto the professor’s desk.

Sneaking out of the classroom and locking the door behind you, Vernon lets you know he’s going to give the keys back to Frank and then head to the Gryffindor commons if you need him for anything else.

Making the long trip back to the Ravenclaw commons, you let your mind wonder about why Jeonghan potentially cheating bothers you so much.

1.) Because it’s obviously immoral. Duh.

2.) Because he just,,,, seems like a guy that already has it all without putting in much effort. He’s gorgeous, has lots of friends, and people practically trip over themselves just to please him. Would it really kill him to study? To try at all?

Night and morning pass agonizingly slowly, due to the never ending worrying of getting caught messing with the tests.

Timidly making your way into the class, you take a seat, and almost immediately a test if placed in front of you.

You pick up the sheet of paper, scanning the front and then flipping it to the back to make sure nothing you traced with your wand made any type of visible mark.

“Y/N, you were given permission to begin yet. Please put your test back down”, the professor scolds and you mumble an apology, setting down the paper.

Just then, Jeonghan struts into the classroom, seemingly stopping by every line of desks to say hello to someone, and then finally going to his seat.

“Uhg, just a few more minutes and he'll get what's coming to him”, you try to calm yourself down.

But then doubt begins to settle in, like “what if he's not cheating at all?” and “Am I just being obsessive about this for no reason?”

Only one way to find out, you figure.

The test begins and to be honest, you’re more nervous about Jeonghan than you are about the actual content of the assessment.

You breeze through it and walk up to the professor to turn your test in.

On your way back to your seat, you sneak a glance at Jeonghan who doesn’t appear to be marked at all.

That is until he runs his hand through his bangs, revealing the eloquently phrased “cheater cheater pumpkin eaten” scrawled across his forehead in your distinct handwriting.

Slapping your hand over your mouth to keep from audibly laughing, you take a seat and try not to break into a fit of giggles while everyone else completes the test.

There’s a problem, though. When Jeonghan turns in his test to the professor, they don’t see what’s on his forehead because his hair is in the way.

Determined to get him to stop cheating, once the last person turns in their test and the professor dismisses the class, you catch up to Jeonghan on his way out the door.

You: “Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan: “Hmm? Can I help you?”

You: “Are you going to cheat on every test?”

Jeonghan: “Whatever do you mean?”, he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You: “Don’t play dumb, I know you’re using an auto-answer quill”

Jeonghan: “If it were to be the case that I was using an auto-answer quill, you’d have no way of knowing because most of them look completely identical to the average quill”

You: “So you don’t plan on stopping”

Jeonghan: “Nope. Sorry, sweetheart”

You roll your eyes at him and trudge away, feeling somewhat defeated.

"If he's not going to say anything, someone has got to", you think to yourself, followed by the realization that "oh shit that someone's gotta be me"

Freezing in place in the middle of the hall, you make a split second decision and march back into the Muggle Studies classroom and up to the professor.

You explain to them your suspicions about Jeonghan (leaving out the part where you broke into the class and messed with the tests, of course), and the professor is surprisingly accepting of your accusation against another student.

"I always thought there was something off about his work ethic and his results, but I never thought about the potential of him using an auto-answer quill. Thank you for confiding in me, I'll make sure to put this information to good use", they say, and go back to grading tests.

You take that as your cue to leave, and head to the grand hall to meet with friends and grab some much deserved comfort food.

Mingyu: "And then Minghao-"

Seungkwan: "Ah! Y/N! What happened with the test??"

Vernon: "Was he cheating?"

You: "Yeah it turns out he was, and I talked to him after-"

Seungkwan: "You talked to him?! Do you even know him??"

Mingyu: "Can we agree to stop interrupting each other"

Seungkwan: "...sorry, I just get excited"

Vernon: "It's fine, but Y/N, what did you say to him?"

You: "I essentially told him I know that he's been cheating, he barely denied it, and then said he wasn't going to stop"

Vernon: "Snap. What are you doing to do?"

You: "Well I kind of already did something... I told the professor"

Seungkwan & Vernon: "YES!!!"

Mingyu: "NO!!!"

You: "What?! If I didn't say anything he'd keep cheating!"

Mingyu: "Have you ever heard of the phrase 'snitches get stitches'? He's gonna come after you and hex you!"

Seungkwan: "He's a Slytherin but he's not Jihoon. I doubt he'll do anything"

Vernon: "If anything, he'll probably just trash talk you"

You: "...how does that somehow feel worse"

Seungkwan: "Because it is"

You: "I came here to eat my stress away, not become more stressed"

Mingyu: "Sorry. It's better that you know, though"

You: "That's true. I guess I'll just be ready for whatever"

The rest of the day breezes by much faster than you'd prefer, and before you know it, it’s the next morning and you're back in Muggle Studies trying really hard to not look anywhere near Jeonghan. The last thing you want is for him to come over and start a conversation with you, for fear of ratting yourself out accidentally.

The class goes by normally, and Jeonghan doesn't look particularly bothered, dozing off like he usually does.

It's not until class comes to an end that the professor dismisses the class but calls Jeonghan to his desk for a "chat"

Scurrying out of the classroom, you can't help but linger outside the door, trying to listen in.

A few minutes later Jeonghan walks out, looking annoyed and stops a few feet away from you.

Jeonghan: "I assume this is your doing?", he says, his back to you.

You: "This is your doing. No one made you cheat"

With that comment, he turns around and makes his way over to you. A little too close, causing you to take a step backwards.

Jeonghan: "And why exactly do you care so much?", he asks with more curiosity than malice in his voice.

You: "Because it isn't fair. Some people study a lot and try really hard to prepare"

Jeonghan: "Had you told me that yesterday, I would've stopped"

You: "Had you not called me 'sweetheart', I might've considered mentioning it"

At this he perks up, with a more flirty demeanor.

Jeonghan: "What's wrong with 'sweetheart', sweetheart?"

You: "I?? Umm....", you start, but the combination of his closeness and just now realizing how unfairly pretty he is leaves you at a loss for words.

Jeonghan: "Well I think you're sweet, sweetheart. I don't think I caught your name when you interrogated me yesterday?"

You: "Oh, it's Y/N", you blurt out.

Jeonghan: "Y/N? Also very nice, but I still like calling you sweetheart. I'll see you around~", he says over his shoulder as he walks away, the strut in his step impossible to ignore.

Mixed feelings aside, you go about your day normally, making everything attempt to not think about Jeonghan and his stupid charm that definitely wasn't,,,, making you feel some way about him.

Some way being sorta maybe romantically interested.

Just thinking about him calling you sweetheart earlier has you a blushy mess.

Before you know it the day comes and goes, and you’re back in class with him again.

Instead of making his usual rounds to every table, saying hello to a handful of people, he marches straight up to your seat and stares at you with enough intensity to give you goosebumps.

You: “Um, hi?”

Jeonghan: “Y/N, sweetheart. Would you wanna spend some time with me after class today?”, he asks, loud enough for the whole class to hear.

Subtlety isn’t exactly in his vocabulary, you figure.

Too startled by the sudden request to make up an excuse off the top of your head, you agree. But also because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bit extremely curious about him.

You: “Sure, I’ve got no other plans”

Jeonghan: “Then it’s a date!”, he confirms with a wink and takes his seat on the other side of the classroom, leaving you to combust with embarrassment and giddiness.

The class goes by agonizingly slowly, but when it finally ends, wait for your classmates to clear out of the room before heading over to Jeonghan’s desk, where he’s taking a nap.

Some things just never change.

Nudging his shoulder ever so slightly, you’re able to stir him awake in time for him to catch the keys the professor tosses his way.

Professor: “Lock up when you finish”

Jeonghan: “You got it, teach”

At this point you’re more than a little confused with the situation, but Jeonghan makes sure to explain to you just what he meant by “spending time together”

Jeonghan: “Alright, let’s get to work!”

You: “Get to work?? What work?”

Jeonghan: “Since a certain individual decided to snitch to the professor about me cheating, it only seems fair that that person should help me with my punishment, which is the overwhelmingly enjoyable task of clapping erasers together to get the chalk dust out”, he says, and although it’s not a date, it’s still better than nothing. And you do feel kinda bad about ratting him out, even if it was well deserved.

You: “Okay, let me go get the erasers then....”, you agree and walk from chalkboard to chalkboard, gathering the erasers in your arms. When you plop them down on Jeonghan’s desk, he looks up from his seat at you with a look of confusion and amusement.

You: “What??”

Jeonghan: “Nothing it’s just,,,, I didn’t really expect you to agree. If I’m being honest I was going for revenge, here”

You: “Yeah I’m alright with that, I shouldn’t have been so quick to tell the professor when it wasn’t my business. I’m sorry for doing that”, you apologize and start clapping together two erasers.

Jeonghan sits at his desk with his arms resting on top of it, and his chin resting on top of his arms while you go through eraser by eraser, making sure to get them as clean as you can.

It’s a comfortable silence, and you don’t mind the cleaning. It’s honestly kind of fun to whack things together.

You can definitely feel him staring though, but don’t mention it because you’re not entirely sure why he’s staring. He did admit earlier that he was plotting revenge against you, so even though your feelings for him have changed for the better, you’re not sure he thinks very highly of you.

You don’t even have to ask though, because he answers the unspoken question himself.

Jeonghan: “I’m…. sorry, too”

You: “Hmm? What for?”

Jeonghan: “Not really for cheating- I don’t regret that. But for being kind of douchey to you. You didn’t deserve that”

You: “You weren’t all that bad, and I’ll admit that the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing is starting to grow on me”, you say, and that seems to perk up his mood quite a bit. Or at least his ego.

Jeonghan: “Oh really? Then would you wanna grab a butterbeer with me later tonight?”

You: “I’d love to, but aren’t you forgetting something?”

Jeonghan: “Forgetting what?”

You: “All of these”, you say and drop a pile of dusty erasers right in front of his face, causing him to jump back in his seat.

Jeonghan: “Hey! Not funny”

You: “I’m sorry, you should’ve seen your face!”, you say in between laughing.

Jeonghan: “Oh this is war”, he announces and finally gets up from his seat, only to pick up an eraser and chuck it right at you.

The eraser bounces off your arm, leaving a rectangle mark on the sleeve of your robes.

The next hour or so is spent throwing more erasers at each other than actually cleaning them but,,,, oh well. It’s more fun that way.

The two of you walk on over down to Hogsmeade covered in chalk but not really caring about it, because you’re together.

On the way, a thought occurs to you, and you’ve just got to ask.

You: “Umm did you notice a certain.... mark on your forehead the other day?”

Jeonghan: “’Cheater cheater pumpkin eater’? How could I not?”

You: “...sorry about that. But out of sheer curiosity, how did you manage to get it off??”

Jeonghan: “A lot of scrubbing. Jun offered to try and magic it off but I was afraid of him making it worse somehow”

You: “Aha, that was probably for the best”

At first glance, you didn’t think you’d get along very well with Jeonghan, but he’s actually a really relatable and nice guy- he can just be a little shit when given the opportunity.

You both slip into one of the booths at The Hog’s Head and Jeonghan orders you both butterbeers, insisting on paying for you.

Which you’re not complaining about at all, because a sweet, gorgeous guy that wants to buy you stuff?? Who in their right mind would say no to that.

After this one date, you two make plans for another one, and then another one, and after a while it’s just known that you’re a couple.

Neither of you were like “will you be my s/o”, it was just a mutual unspoken “yeah so like, you’re mine” kind of thing.

The first time you drop the word “boyfriend” in reference to Jeonghan though, he is over the MOON about it.

For that whole day he’s extra lovey and clingy, and when you ask him what’s up with that he’s like “it’s because I’m your boyfriend~!!”

He loves to get you lil presents, but he’s not the kind of guy to do really expensive gifts. Instead, it’s always something meaningful.

Except for one of your anniversaries, he got you a fancy looking quill.

You were thrilled about it, until you used it on a test and it filled in the answers automatically.

Jeonghan, who intentionally got you an auto-answer quill, had been staring at you during the test, waiting for you to notice.

When you do figure out what the quill really is, you snap your head towards him, eyes firey with rage, which just makes him laugh even more.

The professor notices and asks “Jeonghan, what is so funny about the assessment?” and he’s just like “it’s nothing… pshhh nothing at all”

Dating Jeonghan is like dating the sweetest, most caring guy but also a big trickster all at the same time.

And even though his antics can be annoying at times, he’s definitely worth it in the end.

431 notes · View notes

shall-we-imagine · 6 years

Text

Let's Play. (Zeus Brundle)

Summary: When your your boyfriend thinks your anniversary and game night are the same thing.. (Highly metaphorical js 😂)

Genre: Fluff/comedy

(Second Person Point of View)

It was your first anniversary with Zeus today, and to your dismay, he hadn't brought up any plans to hang out. However, you weren't gonna jump to conclusions just because he didn't talk about any plans for the past week. Maybe he was gonna tell you today, right?

You take a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. 1:00 P.M. You sigh. He's more likely asleep by now.

"Could you calm down?" Amelia giggles, "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten about it. He probably has a big surprise planned for you!"

"You don't know that." You point out, "plus, I don't want a big surprise; I just want to spend time with him." You fidget with the edge of your duvet, avoiding your roommate's gaze.

"You wouldn't know if I know something." She says. That caught your attention, but when you ask what she means, she dismisses it, saying she was only pointing it out. You give her a look but let it go.

Before either of you could say anything else, you heard a knock on the door. The dorm mother informs you that you have a guest waiting for you outside.

Overjoyed with the thought of seeing your boyfriend, you shot out of bed and quickly got dressed in a cute outfit you totally didn't prepare for this occasion. Nope. You put your hair in a simple half updo for a change and rush outside after giving Amelia a quick 'Goodbye!'.

Your features soon change into a confused expression when you realize your guest wasn't Zeus. A familiar silver-haired male stood with a smile, waving at you.

"Good afternoon, (Y/N)." Leon greets.

"Good afternoon, Leon." You tried your best to not let your disappointment show. It wasn't because Leon was there; it was just because Zeus wasn't. You didn't want to make Leon feel bad for something he didn't do, though, so you give him your best smile and wait for him to tell you why he needed you.

"Zeus told me to give you this." Not surprising due to his usual strange and awkward self, Leon simply states with no introductions whatsoever, as he hands you a white card folded in half.

Your confusion was quickly brought back as you take the card, "What's that?"

Leon places his index finger and his thumb around his chin, as if thinking or trying to remember something, while staring off into a different direction, "A game, I think."

"A game?" Opening the card, you question the reliability of Leon's answer. Unfortunately, seeing the content of the card didn't help you get any more information about what Zeus was planning either.

In a messy handwriting, a simple yet puzzling statement was written. The one who never stops nagging.

"What does that mean?" You weren't sure if you were asking yourself or Leon, considering you could never be sure if the boy was fully aware of the actual situation or if he understood it in his own unique way.

"He told us you'd follow the clues." He replies.

"Us?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I have to go." The boy states before turning on his heel and marching away.

"Leon, wait!" You call out, but he was already too far gone. Helplessly, you stare at the card, trying to understand the meaning of this situation. Follow the clues? This is your first clue? The one who never stops nagging. So, you need to find a person. But that's not fair, Zeus is convinced everyone is always nagging!

Huffing, you rub your temples, hoping you could figure out which specific person could this be aimed at. And then you had an idea. Could it be..?

"Klaus?" You knock and allow yourself in after hearing his usual come in.

"How can I help?" The way he acted suddenly made you doubt he had any idea of what was going on with Zeus.

"Uh..um..well, do you happen to..have anything to do with whatever Zeus is planning?" Your fingers kept fumbling with the card nervously.

"I do have your second clue if that's what you're asking." He chuckles, reaching to open one of his drawers and handing you a peach-coloured card, "I only agreed to help that idiot because I figured you'd be happy with this kind of thing."

"It seems fun." You agree, taking your next clue from Klaus. "Thanks." You say before heading towards the door.

"Oh, by the way," Klaus calls out, making you stop in your tracks, "He wouldn't tell me what he wrote in the first card..what was the clue to bring you here?"

You take a hesitant glance at your first card. The one who never stops nagging. "I think you're better off not knowing."

He raises his eyebrows at you. Fearing death, you quickly hand him the card and take a step back.

"Why am I helping this rascal anyway?!" Clearly annoyed by the clue, Klaus complains, "wait, why would I be the one you think of when you see this?!"

Suddenly the blame was shifting to you, so you had to run for your life. "Uh..gotta go!" You laugh nervously and rush out of the office, "see you later!"

You let out a sigh of relief after successfully escaping Klaus's office and reaching the safety of the backyard garden. Finally getting a chance to open the second card, you waste no time to do so.

Second easiest place to fall asleep for me.

"Are you kidding me, Zeus?" You mumble. Just how would you know this? Okay, calm down. Think clearly. You'll figure it out; it can't be that hard. Well, since he said second, then it probably isn't his dorm, right? Where else would he fall asleep anywa- right. Day class.

You prayed Klaus wasn't searching for you or something, as you carefully make your way back into the main building. You were beginning to enjoy this so-called game of his, and without noticing, your pace was getting quicker; you were really curious about your next clue and to where it leads you. You were also curious about what waited for you at the finish line.

"Elias? Yukiya? You two have my next clue?" They were they only students sitting in class, which was explainable since it was a supposed day off.

Both giving you smiles, they nod. Elias takes out a pastel pink card from his bag and hands it to you. "I'm really glad we didn't have to wait here too long." He jokes.

"It's because I'm good at figuring out his riddles; they're far too easy!" You beam proudly.

They both give each other knowing looks before looking back at you, "Just don't get so proud so soon" Yukiya chuckles.

"Well, you're not wrong." You agree, fearing your next clue would take you forever to figure out. "Well, I should go finish this game, so I'll see you guys later!" You wave, exiting the classroom, and they return the gesture.

Impatiently, you unfold the card before even leaving the main building. This time it was just three words. Your favourite milkshake. Does he want you to go buy your favourite milkshake? Was Zeus trying to wear you out and make you go broke on the same day? Is that what this is? Regardless, you were determined to get to every spot he leads you to, so you make your way to town.

The moment you step inside the shop, an excited manager rushes to greet you. "You're (Y/N), right? We've been waiting for you!" She squels and links arms with you, quickly leading you to the counter where an equally excited worker was standing.

"It's (Y/N)?" He asks the older lady, and she nods eagerly. You were getting quite weirded out by the overly friendly staff. They also knew your name which was strange. But then again you visited here quite often, so that could be the reason. Why the excited greetings though?

"Your boyfriend is such a sweetheart! Hold onto him, dear!" She tells you before handing you the milkshake you were planning to order.

"Um, yeah, he is, and I will; thanks." You nod, still not very sure what was going on. When you tried to reach into your pocket to pay for the drink, she immediately stops you.

"Oh no, this is paid for already, honey. Now drink up." She pats your shoulder lovingly before leaving. Paid for? Zeus?

Your drink in hand, you walk out the shop and roam around aimlessly. Was that the finish line? A free milkshake? It was a sweet gesture, but you wished Zeus was there. You didn't want to spend the day alone. Well, at least he prepared all of this for you, right? You push your longing for your boyfriend to the back of your mind and slowly sip the heavenly milkshake.

After a long walk around town, you were done with your drink. You decided to throw away the cup then head back to your dorm. However, when you were about to throw the plastic cup into the bin, you notice something at the bottom of the cup. Quickly, you pull back the cup closer to you and lift it up lightly to look at the ink at the bottom.

"I will go on a diet tomorrow!"

It was your next clue! The game wasn't over yet! Excitement filled every part of you once more, especially when you knew exactly who this clue was aimed at. But for God's sake, Zeus, why did he need to make you go in circles?? Why couldn't Amelia just have the first clue?! Jeez!

"You knew all along!" You point an accusing finger at your roommate, making her burst into laughter.

"Come on, I couldn't spoil! It's no fun!" She defends.

"True." You agree, letting her off easy.

"Here's your next one!" Amelia excitedly gives you a card. A strange one. This card was in two colours. Blue and Gold.

You open it, and the statement inside leaves you in utter bewilderment. Eyes of the Chimera. It made you remember Yukiya's warning from earlier. "Eyes of the chimera? Now he wants me to hunt down chimeras?!" You groan.

"Don't take things so literally! It could be a person!" Amelia's hand quickly flies to cover her mouth, realizing she said too much. You stare at her for a few seconds, still puzzled, until you realize how obvious this makes your most difficult clue. Eyes of the Chimera aka mismatched eyes aka the one and only Joel.

"Thanks, Amelia!" You giggle, as you quickly run out the dorm.

"Ugh, shut it!" You hear her yell in frustration.

Marching to the boys' dormitories, you begin to feel tired from all the walking. God, Zeus, this better be worth it! It better be the last card too; you were exhausted. You were also getting impatient; you wanted to know how this all ends.

"Finally! I thought I'd have to wait a few days before you showed up." Joel teases.

"It's not my fault the milkshake didn't seem like a clue!" You defend.

"Told him it'd be risky and that you might throw away the cup without paying attention, but you know how stubborn he is." Joel shrugs, as he walks over to his bed to take the purple card lying on his pillow. "Your next one." He smiles, handing you the folded card. You thank him and exit his dorm, taking a look at the content of the new card while leaving the building.

This time it was just one word- one clear word. Lake. Something about this card made you feel like it was your last one. It could be just your brain trying to trick your sore legs into holding on for a bit longer, though. You weren't very sure.

You reach your next stop, but there's no one around. No more friends and no Zeus either. You walk around carefully, trying to spot one more friend of yours; there were plenty left, so it could be anyone. Suddenly, you felt your shoe brush against something that wasn't grass. A pastel green card. Really, Zeus? Green between the grass? You sigh, leaning down to pick up the card.

Congrats! You just followed some clues for no reason :P

"Zeus..I'm going to punch you next time I see you." You huff, your fist clenching. Did he really just make you walk all over Gedonelune for a dumb joke?!

However, Zeus wasn't that annoying. He just enjoys teasing you. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist; Zeus places his chin on your shoulder before planting a kiss on your cheek. "Does that change the punching me plan?" He chuckles.

You felt your face heat up: this time you were blushing instead of planning murder. "Maybe." You mumble.

"Hmm. How about this?" He turns you around to face him, gently placing his hands on your cheeks. He tenderly presses his lips against yours, pouring his love and adoration into the kiss, allowing you to melt into his touch. Without hesitation, your lips move against his with such synchronization, like the world was non-existent, and the only thing that mattered was his lips on yours.

"You're off the hook." You giggle after you both pull away.

"Good; cuz I have a lot more to show you!" He grins, holding your hand and leading you away from the lake, "I was scared you'd take so long that we wouldn't have time to do anything else!"

"Shut up; you have a smart girlfriend!" You lightly punch his arm.

"No doubt." He laughs.

And with that, your fun didn't end at what you thought was the finish line; the fun was just beginning, and now, you had Zeus to enjoy it with.

#shall we date #wizardess heart #shall we date wizardess heart #zeus brundle #wizardess heart zeus #shall we date scenario #shall we date imagine #shall we date one shot #wizardess heart imagine #wizardess heart one shot #zeus brundle x reader #zeus x reader #zeus brundle one shot #zeus brundle imagine

81 notes · View notes

fanatic-writers · 7 years

Text

The List (Part One)

A/n: OH MY GOODNESS I AM SO SORRY! This ended up being very personal (tbh it should just be called Why G has anxiety) all italics are flashbacks. Also, this is written differently than the other fics I’ve written, so I hope you like it! -G

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self-hate, anxiety, swearing?

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

It was strange, going through her things without her there. He would've asked permission but he couldn't. She'd been gone for a month or so, and the god hated to admit it but he missed her, and he needed something to remind him of her. So he started going through some boxes in their shared closet. After finding an old report card, Loki figured that he was digging through the girls old school books. Pulling out a few notebooks he leafed through the pages of old writing. Stories she wrote as a child and something about a land for zebras to live happily. The god chuckled when he found an old photo of her on, what appeared to be, her first day of school. Her hands gripped the straps of her bag tightly, and she was giving the camera a large, toothy smile.

He continued to flip through the notebooks finding that the stories began to gain more depth and the writing became neater. He examined the girl's notes in history and the comments she made on her teacher.

“This unit would be so much better if we actually got to learn about mythology" he read “not like Mr. V would know shit about that either the only thing he knows about Vikings is the football team.”

Loki smiled again, he somehow always forgot that she enjoyed the bedtime stories told about him.

He continued to smile as he read on about the horrible Mr. V and how this man somehow made her hate history class more than math. Her hatred for her teacher became more apparent as there were fewer notes and more doodles covering the lined paper. His smile didn't fade until he flipped through a few empty pages finding one that was full among them.

“Things That Bother Me” he read. Her handwriting had matured again, and it was as if he was reading a poem she'd written him yesterday.

The way I look

The god was confused, the two of them had been dating for about a month. He figured that was a miracle on its own, but she seemed to be growing distant.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her one night

“Yeah,” she shrugged “everything is fine. Why?”

“You just seem,” Loki paused looking for the right words “different,”

Her face grew pale, and she looked down at her lap “I'm alright,” she stated

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked

“I dunno,” she sighed “I just, why me?” “What do you mean why you?” the trickster questioned

“Why did you choose me?” you asked “There are far better-looking women in the world and you picked me,”

“Darling, the way I see it, you are the most beautiful woman on this planet,” he assured her

“Thanks,” she smiled weakly

Loki sighed “Who made you think you weren’t beautiful.”

She shrugged again “I dunno, me I guess,”

“Well you are unbelievable,” he said, “and you have the best ass in all the nine realms.”

She chuckled “I knew you were only here for my butt,”

“That amongst other things,” the god’s eyes darkened

“Do tell,” she smirked

Loki’s mind raced with the memories of that night. Thinking back it was the first time she’d opened up to him, the first time her anxiety had leaked through the shield she put up around herself.

2. I’m talentless

Loki frowned, how could she think she was talentless? She had done so many amazing things.

The trickster peered over her shoulder trying to see what was drawn out on the pad in front of her. It looked like a bunch of shapes to him, but she’d gone through several papers.

“What are you doing?” he asked sitting next to her on the sofa

“Nothing,” she replied making wild movements with her hand on the paper

“What are these?” he questioned uncrumpling the papers next to him

“Aren’t you just full of questions?” she said taking the papers from him

“I’m just curious,” he responded sneaking a piece of paper away and hastily unfolding it “that’s me,”

“It’s not good,” she said

“It’s amazing,” he responded

She narrowed her eyes “I’ve seen better,”

“Well, I like it,” Loki confessed, “maybe I’ll show Thor?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said “not that one,”

“There are others?” he questioned

“What do you think I’m working on right now?” she said

It took a few hours, but that was the last paper she used that night. A day or so later Loki saw her sitting on the sofa with a blank page in front of her.

“Did you finish the last one?” he asked

“Kinda,” she said “I don’t really like it,”

“Do you ever?” he questioned taking the pad from her and flipping to the picture. It was one of the best drawings he’d seen. It was as if he was staring at a picture she’d taken

“What don’t you like?” he asked

“The shading is all wrong” she responded

“I see,” he replied carefully removing the picture from the pad

“What are you doing?” she questioned taking the pad away from him

“I’m taking this,” he stated, “I look like a king.”

“That’s the point,” she smiled “you really like it?”

“The only thing it’s missing is a crown,” Loki commented

“Gimme,” she replied taking the drawing from him and doodling something on it. When she handed it back, the god noticed a small crown floating above his head.

“Much better” he smirked

3. I think things that aren’t true

He found her curled in a ball in her closet, tears stained her cheeks. The god didn't know what to do, should he comfort her? Should he leave her? Maybe she just needed to be alone, or maybe she needed someone there but couldn't ask. He didn't enter the closet, but he sat down in the doorway if she needed someone she had someone, but if she didn't the girl could easily ignore him. He noticed her sobs begin to quiet, like she was holding her breath, trying to hide.

“It’s just me,” he called softly

Her breath hitched, and he could see her curl tighter in the closet.

“Do you want me to come in?” Loki asked

“N-no” she muttered “yes…”

The god frowned and crawled into the closet and pulled the girl into his arms. He didn't ask her anything he just held her if she needed to talk he was there but if she didn't want to, there was no pressure.

“Y-you weren't supposed to see this,” she paused “see this me.”

“It’s alright love,” he assured “I understand,”

“I'm sorry,” she cried

“For what?” the god asked pulling her closer

“For- for not telling you,” her breathing became more sporadic “for not being, being who you thought I was”

“Darling it's alright,” he said calmly “I promise, just breathe ok?”

She nodded trying to calm herself and breathe with him. That night she fell asleep in his arms, they both slept in the closet.

4. I'm not a nice person

Loki looked at the words, again and again, he could actually understand this one, sort of. Y/n did have a tendency to snap at people or be sassy, and sometimes she was rude, but she always had a reason. Generally, if you didn't piss her off, she was kind and usually caring.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she scowled

“Don’t what?” Tony asked

“Don’t act like you’re better than him,” she said, “don’t act like you haven’t made your fair share of mistakes.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t try to kill an entire race or take over the world,” he retorted

“But your robot child did,” she countered

“He’s not my child, and Bruce helped too,” Tony stated

“Bro,” Bruce said looking up from his papers

“He didn’t want to help,” she replied “besides Ultron was your idea,”

“Well I’m not inherently evil like him,” Tony said

You groaned “He is not inherently evil, I figured you’d understand him, try to at least get along with him but no.”

“Why should I?” he asked

“Because he’s going to be living here and you can’t just ignore him, and you can’t be a dick to him,” you answered

“Aww,” he pouted “don’t want me to hurt his ego?” “No, I don’t want to hurt yours,” the girl glared

“Sweetheart,” Tony started before Bruce cut him off

“Bad idea man” he called from his desk

“I thought you weren’t getting involved” Tony called back

“As much fun as it is to watch her kick your ass I don’t want to clean it up again,” Bruce replied

“Just try to be nice to him,” she said

“Fine,” he paused “but if he’s an ass.”

“You’re going to be the better person,” you finished for him and walked out.

Loki may not have been the argument, but Thor had told him to go to you if he had issues with everyone and he soon learned the story. He didn’t understand exactly why you stood up for him without knowing him yet, but he had to admit it was a nice change.

5. I have no friends

That was a blatant lie, in fact, she was out with her friends now. Not just her friends her family. Loki wanted to delve into this list a bit further, use it as a way to help. That was if he could help if she wanted his help. But as he was about to read the next item on the page her voice rang through the air. She wasn't due back for another day, the mission must've been easier than they thought.

“Loki?” She asked he rushed to shove the notebook back where he found it and pull out a photo album knowing he wouldn't have enough time to put away the box.

“I didn't know you looked this cute as a baby?” he said as she walked through the door her cheeks flushed red

“What are you doing,” she asked

The god merely shrugged putting the photo album back along with the box it came from.

“You were gone an awfully long time, darling,” he said

“Aww, you missed me” she teased

“I did not” he stated

“Did too” she sang walking out of the room “how about we fix that with a movie?”

“As you wish” Loki called getting up from his spot in the closet

“Just for that we’re watching The Princess Bride” she smiled.

It was hard for Loki to believe that she couldlook and seem this happy after what he had just read. He figgured that after reading eb=ven just part of the note he’d see all the things he missed before but she hid it so well. No wonder no one knew what was really going on in the girls mind.

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

A/n: I hope you guys liked it! Part 2 should b out next week? I am so sorry it took me so long! -G

#loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki fanfiction

138 notes · View notes

whatadaze · 7 years

Text

Malec - Grey’s Anatomy AU Pt. 1

Note: What do you get when you love Malec and watch a Grey’s Anatomy re-run while on the treadmill? You get this…HAHAHA Enjoy!

The room is packed with all sorts of different people and Alec considers it to be the perfect place to blend in.

He pushes his way through the crowd and finally manages to find the bar. As he take the first empty seat he could find, he orders a cola from the bartender.

“You squeezed through all those people for a soda, my dear?” An amused voice points out.

Sitting beside him is a man so beautiful, Alec has to blink a few times to make sure he is real. The man scoots a bit closer and Alec is thankful that the cold drink he had ordered gives him an excuse to move too.

“I-I’m not much of a drinker,” he manages to say.

The man laughs. “Maybe you’ve just never had a good drink,” he says, ushering for the bartender. “Maia, please make one of your famous cocktails for this one.” He then turns back to Alec and winks. “On me, of course.”

Alec digs into his pocket and takes out his wallet. “No I can’t have you-

The man places a finger on his lips and every thought in Alec’s head seems to disappear.

“Now you won’t deprive me the pleasure of buying an attractive man a drink,” he says softly. “Would you?”

Alec shakes his head.

“Ah, thank you sweetheart,” he hums, grabbing the cocktail from Maia.

“No problem,” she smiles, a blush creeping up on her face

Alec realizes that he isn’t the only one who was charmed by this man. He hands Alec the drink before raising his own. “To…us,” he toasts.

Alec raises his own glass and nods his head before taking a sip. The drink burns going down his throat but he tries his best to not show it.

“Wow…so you really aren’t a drinker,” the man says in awe. “I’ve never seen someone react to one of Maia’s drinks like that.” Alec sets his drink down on the counter and feels his face growing hot. “How adorable.”

“I-I’m not-“

“So I definitely haven’t seen you here before,” the man says, quickly changing the subject. “And you’re in a bar but you don’t drink,” the man notes. “Care to feed a curious mind?”

Alec forces himself to take another sip of his cocktail and tries to look at anything but the man’s gorgeous eyes. “I-I just moved here. From New York.”

“New York? I used to live in Brooklyn!” the man explains. “We have so much in common already. So what’s your story?”

Alec smiles down at his hands before finally facing the handsome man. “I don’t have a story,” he tells him. “I’m just a guy in a bar.”

At that, the man raises his drink with a smile. “Another thing in common,” he says. “So am I.”

Alec wakes up feeling like a truck had run him over.

He swears to himself in this moment that he’ll never drink again. As his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight peaking through the curtains, Alec realizes that he’s on his living room couch.

That doesn’t surprise him as much as seeing a man sleeping on the floor beside him.

Naked.

Alec’s eyes widen and he quickly sits up to notice that he, too, is naked. He grabs a blanket off from the floor to shield himself and begins to search for his pants. The sleeping man groans at the noise and soon enough, he slowly begins to wake.

“Is this what you’re looking for, dear?” the man rasps, pulling a pair of pants from underneath his head. Alec quickly takes it from his hand and puts it on.

“This is humiliating on so many levels,” Alec groans, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Y-You should go.”

The man sits up and the smile on his face is enough for Alec to know that he doesn’t see the situation the same way. “Or,” he chimes. “You can come back here and we can pick up where we left off.”

Alec begins to search the room and finds another pair of pants that are too tight to be his own and chucks it in the man’s direction. “No seriously,” he says. “You have to go. I’m late. W-Which isn’t what you want to be on your first day of work so…”

The man lets out a defeated sigh and finally gets up on his feet. Alec doesn’t realize he’s staring at the naked man until he hears him chuckle with amusement.

“Like what you see?” the man asks.

In that moment, Alec wishes he could board a plane and fly back to New York.

“I-I’m just-“ he stammers, slowly backing away. “I-I have to go up and take a shower and when I get back down, you won’t be here. So uh, goodbye…um…”

Alec can practically hear the smile in the man’s voice. “Magnus.” He reaches over and sticks out his manicured hand.

“Ah, right,” Alec says, grabbing his hand without a second thought. “A-Alec.”

The man tightens his grip before lightly tugging him towards him. “I know.”

To his relief, Magnus was gone when he returned downstairs but he did leave a little note with his number.

When you want company.

- M

Alec finds himself tracing a finger along his intricate handwriting. It isn’t until he remembers that he’s already an hour late that he shoves the note into his pocket and rushes out the door.

Magnus walks into the locker room humming in delight as he carries a coffee tray in his hands.

“Ah, good morning my good friend!” He smiles down at the man laying down on the bench. “Care for some coffee? No cream or sugar, just the way you like it!”

He hands Raphael the hot coffee before continuing with his humming as he changes into his scrubs.

“I just came out of a 13 hour surgery, Magnus,” Raphael groans, finally sitting up. “Can you please limit the humming?”

“But it’s such a beautiful day, my dear! The sun is shining-“

“It’s raining.”

“The birds are chirping-“

“Last time I checked, no birds.“

“And I met the most gorgeous man last night!” Magnus sighs and leans against his locker. “Raphael, how soon must it be to claim that you’re in love?”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Don’t ask me.”

“But you must’ve known when you fell in love with Simon,” he gasps. “You are in love with him, aren’t you? It was your wedding I attended six months ago, right?”

Raphael rubs his temples and closes his eyes. “Magnus,” he rasps. “Please. Shut. Up.”

Magnus scrunches his nose. “You really are no fun when you’re grumpy, Raphael. You should’ve picked a career that allows at least 12 hours of sleep every night.”

“Tell me about it,” he mutters. “And to make it even worse, guess who’s arriving today.”

Magnus raises a brow.

“New interns,” he says dryly. “Being a resident is hard enough, but shackling around a group of newbies is really just the icing on the cake.”

“I always loved new interns,” Magnus sighs. “So young. So fresh. So innocent.”

“Now keep your hands to yourself, Magnus,” he warns. “Having an attending chase after them would harm them more than you.”

Magnus feigns a gasp. “Now that’s offensive! I’ll have you know that I already had my hands in someone last night and I definitely don’t think any of those interns will satisfy me as much as-“

“Okay that’s enough!” Raphael shouts, covering his ears. “I don’t want to hear about your sex life this early in the morning.”

It’s hard for Magnus to contain his smile and he squeezes his friend’s shoulder before walking out. “Oh you’ll definitely hear about it, dear. Whether you like it or not!”

“Now this is the on-call room,” Raphael informs the group of interns. “Attendings hog them. Sleep where you can, when you can. Which brings me to rule number 3,” he says. “If I’m sleeping, don’t wake me unless your patient is actually dying.”

“Rule number 4,” he continues. “The dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed someone, you would have woke me up for no good reason. Are we clear?”

Alec finds himself raising his hand and the resident rolls his eyes but urges him to ask his question. “Earlier, you said there were five rules,” he says. “That was only four.”

Raphael’s pager beeps and he quickly glances down at it before rushing out the door. “Rule number 5,” he shouts. “When I move, you move!”

They all begin to run down the hall and up onto the roof just as a helicopter begins to land. Alec finds his heart racing against his chest as the paramedics begin to pull out what appears to be a burn victim.

One of the interns begins to gag when they see that the patient is covered with third-degree burns over most of her body.

“This is Jane Doe,” the medic shouts. “Approximately 18 years old. Female. She was found inside a burning car on the side of the road. She’s lucky to even be alive!”

They transfer the patient onto the cart and immediately rush her inside. Even for an intern, Alec knows that luck isn’t on the girl’s side.

“Intense first day, huh?” a voice asks, taking a seat beside him.

Alec can only stare down at the food on his tray.

“The girl’s still alive,” the man continues, taking a bite of his apple. “I’m really hoping to stay on her case. Heard the Attending in charge is amazing.” He smiles with his mouth still full of food. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Alec,” he replies dryly. He stabs his fork into his fruit salad before another person takes a seat at the table.

“Clary!” The intern, Simon, cries out. “I’m so glad we placed in the same hospital. It’ll definitely make everything a lot easier.”

“Easier?” she scoffs. “I’m not the one who’s married to…ow!”

Alec glances between the two before he finally notices the ring on Simon’s finger. He looked as if he was a couple years younger than Alec and way too young to be married, but Alec doesn’t press any further. After all, he has a few secrets of his own.

“Anyway, Clary and I have been best friends since we were four,” he explains. “Oh, this is Alec by the way. He’s an intern like us!”

Alec doesn’t know how anyone can seem so…peppy after seeing what they just saw. Remembering the young girl causes Alec to lose his appetite altogether. He abruptly stands up from the table and picks up his tray.

“This was fun, but I gotta go,” he announces.

“But lunch hour isn’t over for another fifteen minutes!” Simon says, glancing down at his watch.

“Just let him go,” Clary hushes.

Alec walks away from the table and dumps his tray into the trash. As he leaves the cafeteria, he bumps into Chief Garroway.

“Ah, Alec,” the Chief says with a smile. “Your parents informed me that you’d finish up your internship at our hospital. How do you like it so far?”

Alec glances around them before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s fine,” he replies. “And um, if you can just keep who my parents are a secret, that’d be great.”

Chief Garroway nods his head in understanding and clamps a hand around his shoulder. “You’ll do great here, Alec. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re already assigned to your first surgery!”

“I-I am?”

“Dr. Santiago didn’t tell you? Your name was listed for O.R. 3—the Jane Doe?” The Chief is interrupted by the beeping of his pager. “Just talk to your resident about it,” he says quickly. “Congratulations again!”

Alec watches as the Chief rushes down the hall and around the corner before he is able to fully process what he had just learned.

I’m assigned to the burn victim’s case?

He was surprised to say the least but was pleased to think that Dr. Santiago would deem him capable enough to assist him. Suddenly, his sour mood lifts as he thinks about all the ways they can save the girl.

After all, she made it this far.

Alec makes his way to the nurses’ station and asks the receptionist about Jane Doe’s identity.

“We were able receive information from the car she was found in,” the nurse informs him. “Turns out she was on a missing person’s list for a couple days. Her parents are on their way now.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Alec sighs, his eyes drifting over to the O.R. board.

Chief was right. His name was on the board, but not under Dr. Santiago.

Bane.

“And I’m leaving the charts with you so keep me updated,” Dr. Santiago’s voice booms around the corner. Alec straightens up as the resident finally notices him standing by the counter. “Lightwood. I assigned you to the Jane Doe’s case. Or I guess she has a name now.”

“Y-yeah I saw that…” Alec stammers. “I thought you’d be heading her surgery?”

Raphael scoffs. “Believe it or not, Lightwood, I’m only a resident. While I will be in the O.R. with you, we’ll be assisting the Attending in charge, Dr. Bane.”

“But why’d you pick me?” he asks.

“You were the only one brave enough to ask a question,” Raphael smirks. “Dr. Bane should be here soon. You should get acquainted with him since you’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

“Of course,” Alec says. “H-How is he anyway? I’ve heard he’s pretty great.”

Raphael’s eyes skim over the intern’s shoulder. “Well why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Alec turns his head and his eyes widen when he sees the man walking down the hallway. Despite wearing the same dark scrubs and coat as every other Attending in the building, the man makes it look like a work of art.

But if he’s dressed like an Attending then…

Alec feels his breath hitch as the realization crashes down on him.

This cannot be happening.

He watches Magnus stop to hand a file to another doctor. He laughs at something she tells him and raises a hand to wipe under his eyes. It’s in that moment that they finally notice the man standing at the end of the hall.

Magnus’ surprise seems to only last for a second and he’s already uttering a quick goodbye to the other doctor before he continues his way down the hall. The smile on Magnus’ face widens but Alec feels as if his heart has stopped beating (and not in a good way).

All he can think to do is turn around and walk away.

So, he does.

#malec #fic #grey's anatomy au #bc #why not #lol #i was so excited to write this #!!!!#doctor bane #EEEEK

10 notes · View notes

ellanainthetardis · 7 years

Note

Could you please do something during the games where haymitch and Effie sleep in the same bed but don't have sex because Effie is on her period and they realise how domestic it is?

Here you go! [X]

A Trial Run In Domesticity

There were papers everywhere. Schedules,speeches, to-do lists, piles of notes concerning mayors’ names, possible safetopics of conversations for the children to start during the various dinners…Effie’s bed was covered with them, so were the floor around it and both hernightstands. She and Haymitch were sitting with their backs to the headboard,trying to make sure the next District stop would run smoothly.

It was late, Effie’s eyes were burning and thelight rocking of the train, as it rushed into the night to District Eight,wasn’t helping her sudden bout of sleepiness. She shifted for the third time inas many minutes, trying to relieve the latent pain in her lower back. She couldhave taken a pill but the bottle was on her dressing table, too far away forher to reach – besides, moving would disrupt the system they had going and shewasn’t about to do that until they were ready to tidy up and go to bed. It wasa pain to organize.

“What’s wrong?” Haymitch grumbled, not lookingup from the speech she had prepared for Peeta. He was adding notes in themargins here and there. She would need to rewrite it. And then copy it oncards. In the morning, she decided. After a few hours of sleep.

“Nothing, why?” she hummed, snatching herpersonal schedule from the nightstand to add writing cards on it. She would need to get up earlier but she couldsqueeze it before breakfast.

“You’re squirming.” he replied, distracted.“It’s annoying.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t rise to thebait. Annoying was the now emptyglass of whiskey that he had placed on her nightstand despite her rule about him never bringing liquor into her bedroom.She could smell it from where she was sitting. The only reason she hadn’treally argued was because he had brought her some of her favorite tea alongwith it.

The tea was long gone too now…

She shifted again, wishing she could haveanother mug of it. Or perhaps coffee. If they were going to continue workingthrough the night, she would need coffee.

He shot her an irritated glance, probablybecause she had moved once more.

“My apologies but I am tired anduncomfortable.” she snapped. “We should have stuck to the living-room car.”

The living-room car had couches that would havebeen easier on her back than the wooden headboard. Better yet, they could haveremained in the dining-room car where there were chairs, a table and beverages easily accessible.

“It’s youwho claimed the kids keep wandering at night and that they would walk in andmess with everything.” he pointed out. “So calm your tits, sweetheart.”

“Language.”she huffed, slamming her schedule back on her nightstand.

“Nobody said you couldn’t get comfortable.” hescowled. “It’s two a.m. Who fuckingcares if you get in your pajamas.”

She pursed her lips at him because he certainly had no problem making himself at home in her room. He had toed off hisshoes long ago, his waistcoat and his jacket had been tossed on her dressingtable’s stool, his shirt was half unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled upalmost to his elbows – which she actually quite enjoyed because there wereworse sights than his muscular forearms.

“How long does it take to read a speech?” shesighed. “And honestly couldn’t you beneater? How do you expect me to read those scribbles of yours?”

His handwriting was atrocious. She had painfully grown used to it with the years andshe could decipher it easily enough nowadays but it still took efforts. Sheusually didn’t comment on it because it was a sensitive subject. He had quittedschool at sixteen and his attendance before that hadn’t been stellar from whatshe had gathered – feeding his family had been a more pressing concern thangoing to school. He wasn’t really proud of his butchered education. He had acurious mind and he might have been the smartest person she knew though, he hadcompensated for it by himself through books – and he had done an impressive jobof it, in her opinion, he was more well-learned than a lot of Capitols sheknew. But there were things that betrayed him and the handwriting he rarely haduse for was one of them.

She regretted the gibe as soon as it hadslipped past her lips.

“Sorry.” she offered immediately, before hecould retaliate. “I am tired.”

His offended scowl slowly turned into a sulk.“You’re cranky.”

“I suppose I am, yes.” she admitted, pattingher orange wig. Her scalp was starting to itch and she threw caution to thewind and started removing pins.

The look he tossed her probably meant she shouldhave done that earlier – and he mighthave had a point. After all, it wasn’t like he had never seen her without a wigon. But it wasn’t natural to her to workwith someone – even him – without a wig or proper clothes. They worked togetherand they had sex together, those were two very separate things in her mind.

“I’m almost done with this one.” he said. “Iwanna check Katniss’ again but you can start packing that up if you want. We’redone with schedules and notes.”

Schedules and notes were more her specialty anyway. He only listenedto what she had to say because the Tour was going to hell. He had neverbothered before.

She slipped her wig off and tousled her blondcrumpled hair, then she gathered everything in the right order. Once thereweren’t papers everywhere – saved from the speeches he was still reviewing –she got off the bed and to her dressing table. She took her make-up off,noticing his grey eyes were tracking her every move instead of focusing on thenotepad in his hand.

“Haymitch.” she reminded him, pursing her lipsat him in the mirror.

He smirked and gave her a small shrug. “Allwork and no play…”

“Nothing is happening tonight.” she said veryfirmly. “Do not give yourself any idea.”

She stood up and walked to the wardrobe,rummaging inside until she found the blue dress she was planning on wearing inEight the following day. She carefully hung it at the front of the rack,pulling out the matching heels and placing them in easy reach. It would be again of time.

“Always helps you to sleep when you’re tired…”he insisted, his gaze roaming over her body.

“Even so.” she retorted, fishing silky greenshorts and their matching lacy top from a drawer. “Tonight is not a good time.”

He grabbed her wrist when she passed by the bedin the direction of the bathroom, tugging a little. “You’re angry at me,sweetheart?”

He was actually pouting, as if she would withdraw sex as a punishment for whatevercrime he had committed – well… she hadbeen known to do just that but it made her wonder what he had been up to behindher back that he felt she might have punished him for.

“Take a hint, Haymitch.” she muttered. “It is not a good time.”

It took a few seconds for understanding to dawnon his face. He let go of her wrist as if he had been burned, with a quiet ah.

“Explains why you’re cranky, I guess.” heshrugged.

She wasn’t sure that particular situation hadever occurred before. Usually, she simply avoided his attentions for a few dayswhen it was that time of the month, but living together in a penthouse duringthe Games and living together on a train were two different things. The Tourwas a lot more close quarters than she would have liked. It had been less spontaneous sex lately and more sex at night behind closed doors. Itfelt like a shift in their – non-acknowledged – relationship.

They worked late and they didn’t get a lot ofrest, if they slept together after a work session, he tended to remain in herbed because it was only for a couple of hours and it seemed stupid for him tostroll the train’s corridors in the middle of the night. He had been anxiousabout his night terrors at first but… She was used to them, she knew what tonever do – touch him or remain close enough that he could hurt her – and whatto actually do – call his name andtoss things at him from a safe distance until he woke up. She had noticed hehad less nightmares when he slept with her. It was Katniss’ screams that wereechoing through the night nowadays, not his.

Nevertheless, the situation felt awkward. Shehad never ever discussed this sort ofthings with a man before. Propriety made it almost a taboo subject. There werethings you never talked about if youhad the correct upbringing.

A Capitol man would never have made a joke likethat. They would have perhaps acknowledged the hint with a discreet nod andswitched topic because that was theproper thing to do. Not that Effie would have admitted as much to a Capitol manin the first place. Men tended to be disgusted by it and perfection was key inthe city.

Haymitch didn’t really look disgusted. Just abit uncomfortable.

She ducked into the bathroom, choosing to fleerather than to face the oddness. She decided it was another example of thecultural differences that existed between the Districts and the Capitol.

She took her sweet time in the bathroom, hopinghe would have been done with the speeches and, thus, would be gone by the timeshe walked out.

What she didn’texpect was to find the speeches neatly piled on the nightstand, his pants,underwear and socks abandoned on the floor, and Haymitch himself in her bed,sprawled on his stomach, the sheets and blankets kicked to his knees.

She didtake a few seconds to admire the glorious view – it was a masterpiece, as far as she was concerned: the lines of hisback, the few faded scars, the butt that begged to be bitten, the strongthighs, the slightly hairy calves… Even the soles of his feet… She knew she wasin too deep because there was nothingabout his body she didn’t find attractive.

She could definitely understand why the Capitolhad gone crazy for the Quell’s victor twenty-five years earlier. He was handsome still.

And he was hers.

All hers.

“You’re staring.” he mumbled, eyes closed, hisface half buried in the pillow he had commandeered. “Get your pretty ass inbed, Effie.”

She licked her lips, not quite sure he hadunderstood her after all.

“Haymitch, I have my period.” she clarified,too tired to beat around the bush.

He opened an eyelid to study her. “Yeah, gotthat.”

“I am nothaving sex with you.” she clarified.

“Also got that.” he scoffed. “I ain’t totally clueless, sweetheart.”

“You are naked.In my bed.” she deadpanned. “Excuse me for expressing some doubts.”

She switched the lights off and climbed overhim to get to what was quickly becoming herside.

“I like sleeping naked.” he grumbled. “You knowthat.”

Sleeping naked in the privacy of his own roomwas one thing. Sleeping naked in her room after they had sex was another thing.Stripping down and climbing in her bed when they weren’t about to have sex was entirely something else.

“You are sleeping here.” she stated out loud,for her benefit as well as his.

She was thankful for the semi-darkness becausehe suddenly tensed and turned his head so he could look at her.

“That’s okay?” he asked, not sounding asconfident as usual.

He liked to call her arrogant but he had hisown particular brand of egotism. He rarely, if ever, asked for permission before doing things that concerned herand he tended to assume she would either agree or cave – like, apparently,deciding he could sleep in her bed without being invited to as if they were ina habit of doing so.

“I suppose.” she answered carefully, not quitesure what it meant.

He rolled on his side and reached out for herjust as carefully – if not awkwardly.They had never really done that. When they cuddled in bed it was because theyhad ended up tangled in the throes of passion. They never really purposefully reached out – it had happened before when he had been toodrunk to care, but sober?

She let him spoon her, sighing in relief whenhis warm body plastered itself to her back. There was one good thing to havingHaymitch Abernathy in her bed – well, there were several good things but that one was a nice bonus – he was a sourceof warmth. She loved that. And rightthen it was all her body needed.

His arm sneaked around her waist, squeezing abit too tight for her comfort. She nudged it higher and he grumbled butadjusted as she saw fit.

It was comfortable.

And nice.

And, perhaps, a bit frightening in itscasualty.

“Does this feel domestic to you?” she whisperedafter a few minutes spent staring at the wall, despite the fact that she wasready to drop of exhaustion.

“Please.” he scoffed “We couldn’t be domesticif we tried.”

He didn’t sound as convinced as he ought to be.

She had never let herself picture it, what alife together might be like. It was impossible and dangerous. Only pain liedthat way.

“You are right.” she lied.

“Sweetheart, I’m always right.” he snorted, pressing a kiss against her nape.“Sleep.”

She relaxed in his embrace, happy in theknowledge that she was as safe as could possibly be.

It was the best night she had on that train sofar.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #victory tour #fluff #no wig no make up #coconuts friends #cuddles

28 notes · View notes