#i cried a bit when he said ‘the lads’

[avenirdelight]

Tottenham Hotspur — Guglielmo Vicario | The Diary Room

#my boyfriend💘 #he talks to his parents every day #and he’s never been to a concert in his life #i cried a bit when he said ‘the lads’ #guglielmo vicario #tottenham hotspur #spurs #mas vicky💕🪩⭐️

[sonnyaavce]

DP x DC prompt # 6

There’s a kid crying, a blue skinned white headed kid that was just sitting there crying his eyes out in a panic as he was covered in a very large and dark cloak that was dwarfing him… that was cute to see but, the thing wouldn’t be an issue if there weren’t for the clusterfuck of dead cultist surrounding a green ominous portal under him while the poor kiddo shed luminescent tears nonstop.

“Why is there a kid?” ‘dumb question to ask Captain but sure let’s go with that yeah?’ scoffed annoyed Constantine after eyeing the magic champion while some of the members of the Justice League finished some of the goons that were still alive and resisting, Constantine just watched in dumbfounded stupor the crying baby eldritch abomination still wailing over there.

“I’ll go check on him first” said Wonder Woman, being the first to react after finishing her part, slowly walking forward with gentle steps and humming tunes to make the small baby calm down a bit and refocus on her. Dianna never went too closer to grab the small kid, but she slowly crouched in front of him, palms out and leveling her face in a calm expression, so the kid wouldn’t freak out while she still hummed songs and cooed calming words.

The poor kid wails gradually subsided and ‘oh my god, why are those eyes way too green!’ His eyes were completely black except his irises being a bright neon green shine, his small body trembled when only small hiccups stayed, in his small crying fit the lad had ended up sucking his thumb in a desperate attempt to calm down while looking for any non-frightening competent adult and after only seeing Dianna in front of him he tried to raise his small arms towards her but immediately cried as his arms wouldn’t move at all.

“I think the little boy is injured…” said Wonder Woman, breaking the silence once all suspects were aprehended and tied down “explain what you can see Wonder Woman” chastised Batman as he tried to walk towards her to check on the small boy only to be stopped by Superman, who had his eyes shinning red as he looked at the kid “For what I can see, the small child seems to have some broken bones and some internal bleeding… also there’s seems to be a sphere in the middle of his chest?”

“The demon baby is hurt?” Constantine blurted out incredulous, Zatanna wacked him furiously for that comment “if you haven’t heard what Superman said, he said he saw a sphere so it’s not a demon John! it’s a tuttelagé you idiot!”

“How the fuck would you know that isn’t a démonos, Z?!” cussed the magician as he moved a bit back while Zatanna then moved towards Wonder Woman, with spells already healing the poor baby body “tuttelagés are known to be protective spirits of kids that died wishing to protect their loved ones, their wish is then concentrated in their chest as a sphere so to see a young one hurt like this…” Wonder Woman looks grimm at the implications while Zatanna finish healing the young spirit and allows Dianna to pick him up once he’s done healing and calmed down bit.

“Someone must have hurt his protegué so bad that his body is getting affected by it” sentenced Batman as he glared with concern at the small baby who now is now resting his head in Wonder Woman arms and falling asleep.

MEANWHILE

Danny is soo scared and hurt all around his tiny body, the wounds he had while being subjected to the examine table makes him tear up in pain while also making his chest feels funny once the weird forced summoning spell stops pulling his being into existing; green stops flooding his vision only to be meet by a dark and open space full of dead people dressed in weird costumes, so the only answer he has to this is to wail.

Because thats all he can do now, cry. He cries and cries after all what had occurred to him; he cries for his parents betrayal and rejection of his being, he cries for the cruelty they subjected him into, the torture he had to endure and almost making his core break, he cries for his friends deaths when they tried to free him from all his pain but failed.

He cries and cries until the pain into his core is unbearable because he just lost his fright, his connection to the living, his reason of being here. He’s still crying when his senses tenses the moment something changed in his surroundings, he hears fighting and grunting and something falling down and he cries harder; because he’s scared and tired and he just wants Jazz to carry him and…

There’s someone humming, nice humming, calm humming, steps coming closer and then he looks up, scared and hurt and just tired only to find a beautiful black headed and blue eyes woman dressed in a nice outfit crouching in front of him, she’s humming something to him and just looking at him with calm and such gentleness that it makes him croon at her because he feels his core sing ‘she’s nice and pretty and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’ he tries to reach out to her but his arms fell numb and ouchie and he looks up to her, in a silent plea for her so she would carry him but she’s not moving, just looking at him gently.

Until he sees another woman coming closer to them and he tenses up again, afraid and cautious, still a bit frightened by her aura but her hands are starting to glow and he immediately feels his body swaying and feeling a lot better, so he relaxes his body and let’s the pretty woman carry him so he can rest his head and nuzzle asleep.

His core sings pleased ‘I’m safe… she’s nice and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #justice league #danny fenton #baby Danny

[mistydeyes]

hello!!! 🍄 This is a bit silly but I was wondering if you could do a headcanon about how 141 would react to a reader who is freaking scared of cockroach and one day there's a roach in the room or bathroom and reader is losing it 🧍.

OMFG anon this was such a funny request i swear! literally imagine such a badass reader being absolutely freaked over the smallest of bugs.

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summary: When you joined the 141, you made it very clear to Price you had one fear: bugs. Now the 141 just has to deal with your constant cries for help when an insect is nearby.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x platonic!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Despite being one of the more skilled members of the team, you were absolutely terrified of bugs. It was a deep-seated fear since you were a child, stemming from an incident where you accidentally fell into a hoard of earthworms and centipedes. It could be the smallest spider crawling on the wall but every time, your fight or flight was immediately activated. The team had to have a few words with you when you almost attacked a stink bug with a blow torch. Now that you were on probation for using unnecessary force against the insects, you resided to ask whoever was around to kill it for you.

Ghost was summoned to your room in the middle of the night by your loud, petrified screams. He had picked up a quick pace as he breathlessly entered the doorway of your private quarters. "Cosmo, you alright?" he asked as he watched you hunched onto the bed. "I-I saw something," you said, fear emanating in your tone, "I think it crawled into my clothes drawer." Ghost's shoulders dropped as he realized the false alarm you had raised. "Jesus, Cosmo, you don't have to wake the entire fucking base for just one bug," he replied, almost like a scolding parent, "Now where is the little guy." As he opened the drawer and you covered your eyes, he couldn't help but let out a large, bellowing laugh. To this, both tired and bed-headed Sergeants entered to figure out what had made their Lieutenant laugh so happily in the dead of night.

"Everything alright here?" Gaz asked, walking over to a hysterical Ghost and the open drawer. "Cosmo found the newest threat to the 141," he teased and Soap joined to peer around his shoulder. There was a moment of silence before the group joined in Ghost's laughter. You decided the coast was clear and hopped off the bed. As you approached closer, you cringed at the sight of the brown roach with many twitching legs hiding amongst your socks. "That thing is fucking massive," you corrected as Ghost gently picked it up with his hands. "Why don't you give the lad a kiss," Soap then joined in and snatched it out of his hands. Your screams were deafening as Soap mockingly positioned it near your face and chased you around the base.

Later that night, you received a disappointed lecture from Price at your childish fear and the antics of both Soap and Ghost. Gaz sat there smirking as Price laid into you, reminding himself to put a fake cockroach under your bed before you left on another mission.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #izzie is writing

[katz-chow]

my first time requesting im sorry if it sounds really bad or cringe ehehsbbejrr

how do you think Simon would react to someone who has a seashell collection they are v e r y overprotective of and they give him one of the seashells because they trust him???

selling seashells by the seashore? nope!

synopsis: what the ask said! + a bit more because i started to really get into it

warnings: fluff, sfw, gn! reader, established relationship, marriage, a glimpse into simon's private life, soap being soap

a/n: i’m literally on an island rn and i’m pretty sure this seagull is screaming at me so i thought this would be very fitting 😝

Simon definitely has his pockets filled, only with Moroccan sand and shells and rocks and…possibly a starfish? It’s not much, but truly it’s honest work when it comes to him picking up and inspecting every shell or sea cookie there is out here on this damn beach. Soap hollers at him from a few yards away, hand beckoning for him to come over.

“Ain’t this one a big ol' Lad?” Johnny says with his hand on his hip and the other pointing down at a huge mollusk, it’s opal and rainbowed color shone in the blazing sun.

The taller one smiled behind his mask and grunted as his knees popped, reaching down to pick it up. With a knife, he poked and prodded into whatever was in it, which was now just a dead, sandy mess at his feet. “Pretty, then again, anything prettier than your face, Johnny.”

Soap glared at him, “Yeah, at least I have a face.”

Simon missed you terribly. Miles and miles away, he just thinks about how his lovely spouse is on their daily walk down the beach, trading and finding pretty shells to show him once he gets back. You two do this every time he comes home. After a few days of resting (with mostly Simon either shutting off in his own room or hiding his face in the crook of your neck in your shared room), you sit him down on the kitchen table and pull out your beach bag to debrief about the new shells. Each one with a different story attached to it and each one you wanted to share and love.

“I got this one from a fisherman that caught it in his net when he went fishing in the Bahamas!” You showed him a huge, pink and white conch shell that was larger than both your hands combined.

Simon smiled at you and took your prized possession from your hands and inspected the shiny finishing of it. “You weren’t at the Bahamas, Lovie, what did you do to get it?”

“Oh I traded a hermit crab shell for his nephew’s crab.” You said fondly, petting the shell that looked normal sized in his own hands.

Simon pockets the large nautilus shell into his bag somewhere and feels his breast pocket for the small, spiral shell that you’ve gifted him. It was his birthday, the day you saw his toothy grin for the first time.

You had found a beautiful, black, spiral shell the size of a blade. Taking it home, you filed the tip into it was sharp enough to cut through…something, you thought. You don’t know what he exactly would cut, but it’ll come in handy right?

He cried that day when you sheepishly offered him this small gift box, a silver bow resting on the top of it. After you calmed him down and held onto his arm, he opened it and a goofy smile replaced his tears.

“I sharpened it, it’s like a…like uhm a shank?” You said, rather confused actually.

Your husband snorts at your reasoning and picks up the lustrous black shell into his hands. He examines it closely, spinning and turning it in his fingers to make it shine in different angles. With the hard padding of his index finger he grazed the tip of the shell, and sure enough, it was sharp. Simon huffs a laugh to himself thinking about how he could potentially use this as his next melee weapon.

“Do you…like it?” You ask him hesitantly, sitting across from him on the couch. Your own hand fidgeted with each other as you pull and push on your knuckles, making them pop gently.

The large man in front of you looks up at you, eyes a bit wide in confusion. A small gasp is heard from the parting of his lips and he softens his gaze, looking at you fully. He didn’t laugh at you, he laughed at himself. “It’s silly…to be killed with a seashell, hmm?”

Large hands found yours as he abandoned the shell temporarily on the safe coffee table. He kisses your forehead. “Of course I love it, my sea star…best gift ever.”

Simon knew that it wasn’t just a gift from his spouse that day. No that’d be too simple, and his life is anything but. That was a piece of you, your love for him manifesting in such a small, delicate object. To break it, was to break a piece of you…and you would raise hell if he did.

His face settled on a slightly less disgruntled face under his mask as he looked off into the coast. With a pat on the breast pocket of his vest, he pondered to himself, ‘This time, it’ll be different.’ This time he has his own collection to present to you. This time he knows you’ll be even more excited than that time you found a perfectly round sand dollar when he shows you these little treasures. Maybe this time you’ll even scream when he shows you this dried starfish.

But one thing’s for sure, he’ll come home to you after all this. And one day, there’ll be no more war, no more bloodshed, just two old spouses sitting on the beach, the sun rising steadily, and a wall of shells from coasts all around the world.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #cod ghost #fanfiction #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon riley ghost #katzwrites

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝

The Soldat’s captain was ruthless and never showed any quarter to his enemies. When an armada appeared on the horizon like a beast from the ocean, you knew the battle would be bloody and victory would be sweet, and the treasure would be worth more than silver and gold.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✗ Pirate!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✗ 1.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✗ Fluff, descriptions of battle (blood and gore), praise kink

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✗ As a woman obsessed with POTC, I got to use my hoarde of knowledge on pirates for this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ✗ The Kraken by Hans Zimmer ✗ Angelica by Hans Zimmer, Rodrigo y Gabriela

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✗ @the-slumberparty Week 1 Fic Challenge ჻჻჻ 𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬 ჻჻჻ 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑲𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬 — Masterlist

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Canon fire peppered the air while smoke billowed from the muzzles of the guns lining the deck of The Soldat’s ship, its captain bellowing orders and commands in quick succession, the volume of his voice rivalling the constant explosions of gunpowder. 

Crewmen were yelling, screaming threats and making good on their promises to maim and murder the King’s men. It was a gruesome sight with bodies strewn over the deck and hanging off the hull rail with swords and bayonets rooted deep in their backs and stomachs; enough to turn the churning sea red below the belly of your ship. 

“No quarter!” A voice boomed by your ear and you spun ‘round to see your captain, sprayed with blood with a maniacal grin on his normally stoic face. “Send ‘em down to Davy Jones’ locker, lads!”

Roars of ascension echoed and the battle grew in intensity around you - men were turning savage with bloodlust, gutting their opponents with the order of no mercy. The once pristine Man’O’War you called home had carved a path through the blockade with its wide berth that was now painted a deep crimson from the loss of life.

“If you can put as many men down as me, lass, I’ll see to you it that you get a bit of the bounty,” your captain said, his grinning face now focus on you. “C’mon, I know you want it as bad as the rest of these idiots.”

You smirked. “You know me, sir-” A loud yell came from your right and you turned on your heel, blade at the ready and before the decorated King’s soldier knew what had happened, he was impaled on your sword. You turned back to your captain, your smirk now a wild grin. “I can never turn down a challenge.”

Sailors and King’s soldiers clashed and fought around you whilst you faced two brutes, their weight an advantage, though your nimbleness won the battle; your cutlass in one’s back, your dagger in the other’s neck. 

Battle cries from your crew mates carried you on - a force to be reckoned with, slashing and hacking and impaling your sword against any foe that crossed your path. An armada of King’s men had been slaughtered by the time The Soldat’s crew had slowed, the bloodlust now a low simmer in their ale full bellies.  

Bodies littered The Soldat’s deck, and with the battle now over, you glanced down at yourself to search for injuries you did not feel with the roar of adrenaline in your blood, but found none. 

“Captain,” a sailor to your left started, his voice louder than the shouts of victory. Your captain looked towards the call before briefly glancing at you, a slight smirk on his pretty lips. “What’re we gonna do with the last of the armada–they might send more men.”

“Burn it all, douse them with oil and burn it all down.”

A shiver crawled up your spine at your captain’s words and the men murmured excitedly before rushing off to the lower deck for the barrels kept exactly for this reason.

“First mate,” the captain called, and you looked up sharply, a brow raised. “My quarters, if you please.” He jumped down from the railing and sauntered over, the belts and leather coat swaying with his gait and it was all you could do to keep your attention focused on his icy gaze. “We have many things to discuss for the next course,” he trailed off once he was right in front of you, though the men around were far too busy and excited at their orders to wreak pure destruction on the fallen. “And I have my word to make good on, lass.”

“Yessir,” you said, saluting proudly and he laughed heartily - a sound that warmed you to your core. 

The captain’s cabin was luxurious in furnishings - for what a pirate could get his thieving hands on, this you knew, but the majesty of the room never ceased to amaze with the dark stained wood of the walls and floor while pops of red and silver accented the room. Your boot falls were muted on the many rugs strewn over the floor, and you sat down on the edge of his bed with a weary sigh. 

Battle was exhausting. Though, you never grew weary or tired of unsheathing your blade and fighting alongside the crew.

The sun had fallen below the horizon by the time your captain finally strode into his cabin, the door shutting with a loud click and rattle of the ornate glass. “You look exhausted, my love,” he started, shucking his coat off and hanging it on a hook by the door. “Are you injured?”

“‘M fine, handsome,” you sighed, smiling up at him as he slowly walked over to stand between your knees. While waiting for him, you had stripped from the bloodiest of your clothes and thrown one of his blouses, a poet shirt he had taken after a bloody wager. “Though I am tired and ready to sleep for eternity.”

“I will join you then,” Bucky smiled, his calloused hand cupping your jaw before he moved away to strip away the black leather adorning his muscled chest and thighs. 

You hummed and shuffled on his bed until your back rested against the headboard. “Don’t you have something for me, captain?”

“You know we are safe here, my love. It’s Bucky, unless you want to call me sir, I don’t mind,” Bucky purred. The slight clink of his swords being hung on the wall echoed loudly in the charged silence, but you smiled. You knew this game. 

“I know you have something for me, sir,” you breathed, and Bucky looked over his shoulder at you with a brow raised. “You promised, and I did win that wager… didn’t I?”

Bucky turned to face you, though he kept a hand behind his back and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “You did, my love, the deadliest lass I’ve ever seen.” He stepped closer to his bed and lifted his hand, beckoning you closer. “C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so,” Bucky replied, the authority unmistakeable in his tone. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes in defiance and Bucky stared through you, straight into your soul it felt. The darkening of his normally ocean grey eyes made you pause, what was he going to do? “Fine,” you muttered and you scooted forward so your legs dangled off the side of his bed, resting them either side of his. 

“Good girl.” Bucky’s hand ran through your hair and moved it so it fell down your shoulder. “Now, I promised you something from this bounty and the coffers–of course, I had to get my girl the best,” he said, drawing his hand out from behind his back. “And the best just happened to be this.”

You looked towards his hand and your mouth fell open in a silent gasp of shock. Diamonds and jewels glinted in the warm candle light; the red of the rubies casted a red reflection onto Bucky’s palm while the silver of the diamonds shimmered like the rays of the sun on high tide. 

“Oh, my-” Was all you managed before Bucky bent at the hip and kissed you hard, distracting you from the heavy weight of the necklace while he clasped it around your neck. “Bucky!” 

“What?” Bucky smirked. “You don’t want me to be sweet on you? Don’t want me to love on you, is that it?”

“No! No, no it’s not,” you began, trying to process the weight of the jewels and diamonds around your neck and resting against your chest. “I-I do want that,” you murmured. Bucky’s hand cupped your chin and forced your gaze up so he could stare into your eyes. “I just- thank you, it’s beautiful.”

Bucky smiled softly and bent to kiss your forehead. “Not as beautiful as you, my love.” He stepped away and toed off his bloodied boots, kicking them to the corner before tossing off his undershirt. “Nothing on God's green earth will ever come close to your beauty, nothing.”

The statement made butterflies bloom in your stomach and you smiled shyly. 

“Now, let's sleep for eternity, hmm?” Bucky gestured for you to move. “Get comfortable, my love. I want to join you.”

Soft cotton sheets rustled while you moved and settled on to Bucky’s bed, your head coming to rest on his pillow. You sighed happily when the bed shifted under Bucky’s weight as he settled behind you, your back flush against his bare, toned chest. “You did so well today, my love,” Bucky murmured and you smiled. “Did your captain proud.”

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered and Bucky tensed behind you.

“None of that, you little minx,” Bucky said and you giggled, shuffling back against the warmth of his muscled body. His arm rested over your waist and moved to cradle you, a possessive move that he knew you adored - it made you feel loved, protected. “Sleep now, my love.”

The last thing you remembered before sleep pulled you under its swell was the weight of the diamonds and jewels on your neck, and how it remarkably felt like your captain would now always be with you. 

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥����𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #pirate au #pirate bucky #navy and roo's sleepover #rookthorne's works #Treasure

[jobesbabe]

Heyy, recently I’ve been thinking of ‚teen‘ dad jobe a little bit too much. He’d be so anxious about becoming a father, yet Jobe‘s so supportive and caring towards you and your child.

Although anxiety eats him up whole, he grows so attached to his baby; protecting you two, spending time with you and overall becoming the best father to be 🎀

My baby / Jobe Bellingham

warnings- established relationship, pregnancy, throwing up, fluff

summary- Jobe and you are expecting a baby and you cant decide if you are worried or excited.

a/n - In my head Jobe is 20 in this fic, just because and I think this is a great prompt. alr, thanks! enjoy!

Every morning that week you woke up with the stomach flu. You would be as quiet as can be, but Jobe would always know somehow and run after you to hold your hair up and rub circles on your back.

“You should be asleep,” You said, “You have a match at noon.”

Jobe shook his head. “I don’t care about a stupid match, I just care that you’re going to be okay.”

You smiled weakly. “This should pass, I’m not going to be sick forever.”

He nodded before kissing your cheeks lightly. “I will make sure of that.”

But the next morning and the morning after that, you threw all the contents of your stomach up.

You had barely been eating at night, just some of his mother’s chicken soup and plain crackers. Yet even that had ended up out of your system by morning.

You cried against Jobe’s chest in bed as he hugged you.

“Something is wrong with me,” You cried weakly.

He just pulled you tighter and hummed in response, kissing your temples.

“I mean, I’m throwing up every day, It’s even thrown my period off, it’s a week late!” You exclaimed.

“Wait,” Jobe asked while sitting up in bed. “A week late as in you have it now or a week late as in you haven’t gotten it?”

“Jobe I haven’t gotten it.” You explained tired. You snuggled into him, ready for sleep and he instead got up.

“I have to run to the store, don’t worry it’s for you, but it’s nothing bad.” Jobe told you before giving you a peck and then rushing off.

Jobe came back thirty minutes later with three different pregnancy tests. He picked you up out of bed bridal style and led exhausted you to the bathroom.

“Baby, I know this could be a long shot, but I remember one of the lads talking about how his wife was sick when they were first expecting. You don’t have to test if you don't want to, but whats the harm in it?” He asked excitedly.

Tired you took the tests and waited in Jobe’s arms for the results. You wanted to look at the same time. You didn’t know if you wanted a baby or not. Jobe didn’t either, he claimed, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, wondering what a little Bellingham family would be like. Don’t get me wrong, he was still terrified. But the baby gave him excitement he’d never felt before.

As you two looked together at all three tests, the results all matched. Two lines.

Anxiety filled the both of you and you embraced each other knowing you were in the same boat.

Jobe put his hands on your stomach reassuringly.

“I love you,” He said, and you couldn’t tell if it was toward you or the little Bellingham.

Eight and a quarter months later, Your baby boy was born.

Thomas Luke Bellingham. He was the most beautiful boy, with your eyes and Jobe’s smile. He was perfect. Neither of you knew how to be parents and Jobe was constantly scared he would mess something up and hurt his little boy.

Tommy was a daddy’s boy though, always calming down when his dad was around and cooing at his father’s matches.

Once Jobe got the hang of parenting, he was always showing the both of you off saying, “This is my son Tommy, He adores me and football,” Even though he wasn’t even six months old.

The three of you had shaped up to be such an adorable family, earning aww’s everywhere you went.

You loved each other so much. The three of you against the world.

#footballer x reader #football #footballer imagine #jobe bellingham #jobe bellingham imagine #jobe bellingham x reader #footballer one shot #x reader

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Five I The Archer

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Jamie's Dad :-(, I have literally no clue how football works.

A/N: I felt like posting again. Thanks for all the comments and reblogs and such! I literally read all of them, they make my day :-)

Prologue One Two Three Four

Something was wrong with Ted. After Jamie’s miraculous goal, he was pretty much marked up for the rest of the game. While we scrambled to figure out a solution, Ted walked off the pitch without a word. It was thanks to Nate’s quick thinking that we were able to pull off a win. The boys were ecstatic and rightly so. A quarter final win was something to celebrate. I entered the locker room, once I had changed, giving out my congratulations.

            “Nice assists out there tonight, Colin.” I gave him a fist bump. “You’re doing great work.”

Colin gave me a big smile. “Thanks, (Y/N)! We’re going out for drinks! You should come!”

The boys around us shouted out in agreement. Patting my on the shoulder and tugging on my arm, beginning for me to join them. Normally, it would be a quick yes. I loved going out with the lads. They were always guaranteed to give me a good time. But tonight, I was hesitant. Getting drunk when I had just discovered my feelings for Jamie seemed like a bad idea.

            “I don’t think I can tonight, lads.” I was met with cries out outrage. “I know! I know! But please, go out and have a drink for me tonight!”

They said their goodbyes and made their way out of the locker, leaving me by myself. I shot a quick text to Keely, telling her I needed some serious girl talk.

            “(Y/N),” Jamie’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up as he walked over to me, his ICON hat sitting loosely on his head. “It’s all in the dressing, yah? I mix a bit of apple cider vinegar with sugar water… but don’t tell Roy about the sugar water.”

            “Oh, I see! The sugar water is the special ingredient,” I mused, shoving my phone in my pocket.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands lazily hanging off his fanny pack. He smiled down at me. “That’s the secret to my goals. Well, that and some great coaching.” He reached out and patted me on the shoulder. “That’s all you, love.” The nickname flowed off his tongue easily. I hoped he couldn’t see the way I was affected by it. I shoved my hands in my pockets, looking down to hide my blush. When I looked back up, his tongue was between his teeth as he laughed at me.

            “That was a great goal, Jamie,” I praised.

Surprisingly, he looked down, becoming bashful. “Yeah, well, I learned it from you.”

We smiled at each other for a few beats. I wondered if he was thinking about the way my eyes creased when I smiled the same way I was thinking about him. Or the way his eyes sparkled in amusement when he teased me. My phone dinged, breaking our silence.

As I looked down to see Keely’s response, Jamie pushed himself off the doorframe, clearing his throat. Keely was making her way to me as fast as she could!

            “Yeah, well, I should be leaving, the lad’s’ll be waitin’ for me.” He turned to leave but quickly turned back around. “You comin’?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I’ve got to get some rest. But have a nice night.”

            “Alright, see you Monday?”

            “Yep, see you Monday!”

I was fucked.

…

The week leading up to the Man City game was almost unbearable. If I thought my nerves were bad before Tottenham. That was nothing in comparison to this. Between my discovery of my intense, distracting, horrible feelings for Jamie and my eternal fear of the press, I found myself unable to eat, sleep, or focus.

            “You just need to relax,” Keely emphasized, taking a drag from her cigarette as I paced back and forth. A while ago, Keely and Rebecca decided that smoking was okay if it was in the boot room. Since then, it had become our secret oasis for gossip and advice. “Whatever is going on in your head is going to kill you if you don’t.”

I wanted to tell Keely about my feelings for Jamie. I knew she didn’t care, and had even encouraged it, but for some reason something was holding me back.  “Keely, you don’t understand!”

            “Then help me to understand,” she insisted. She patted the space next to her, encouraging me to sit down. I slumped down and leaned my head back against the boots. I looked over at her and pursed my lips.

            “Okay… but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

She squealed in excitement, shaking her hands. “Oh! Those are my favorite type of things!”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Okay, I maybe… kinda… sorta… have like… the tiniest of… seriousromanticfeelingsforJamie.”

Despite me mumbling my words I saw the look of pure elation.

            “Sorry, what?” She tapped her ear. “Can you say that again, didn’t quite hear you.”

            “You heard me and I will not repeat!”

I could tell she wanted to press but then the door behind us opened and Ted walked in.

            “Oh! It’s you two!” Ted smiled at us before pointing at Keely. “I thought you quit smoking?”

            “What?” She said in faux surprise. “Oh! I have. This is just covering up the smell of the boots.”

            “It’s very effective,” I concurred, giving him a smile back.  

            “Then why you in here?”

I looked over at Keely, begging her to not say anything. Even if it wasn’t Jamie, it was my intense anxiety that I was feeling about the match. The intense fear I felt leaving my house every day that I would be the reason we lost. I knew Ted would want to help, give me whatever advice he could but I truly didn’t want anyone else to know.

            “I just needed some space,” Keely saved, turning her attention to Ted.

Then the door was opening, and Rebecca and Leslie were walking in. It was truly a party.

            “I knew you’d be in here,” Rebecca came and sat on the other side of Keely, reaching for the cigarette. “This is the room where Keely and I deicded that smoking doesn’t count.”

Keely squeaked out a protest, but it was too late. She looked up at Ted, a guilty expression on her face. I was grateful to have the attention off me. I let myself tune out of the conversation, having heard Keely’s complaints about a million times now. I chewed on my thumb as I thought about my situation. Though if I chewed much longer there wouldn’t be much thumb left.

Then, as if the universe was laughing at me, in the door walks Jamie Tartt himself.

            “Oi, Will, do you think you could take me name off me shirt and then put it back on but bigger?”

He looked up and saw the room, now crowded with people. His eyes scanned the room then landed on me. I gave him a small smile.

            “They’re talking about Roy,” Will said, his face almost covered by boxes.

Keely and I both shot him a glare. Not cool. Jamie shook his hand and put his leg up next to wear I was sitting. Was it bad that I wanted to lean against it?

            “Grumpy, old, twat,” Jamie muttered, joining in on the conversation. I felt Keely’s eyes burning into the back of my skull, but I refused to look. I also refused to look at Jamie. Pretty much I just stared straight ahead, not looking at anyone or anything.  God, if one more person walked into the room, I was gonna lose it.

The door opened and I hopped up, needing to leave the room immediately. My sudden movement caused everyone to look at me. Then I realized they weren’t looking at me, they were looking at the person entering the room. Roy.

            “You talking about me?” He asked. I nodded, surrounded by agreements around me. He shrugged before addressing Keely. “Ready to go?”

And they were off. Somehow, I ended up being one of the last people in the room. Of course, it was just me and Jamie.

            “You look tired,” he commented, addressing me finally.

            “Gee thanks,” I sighed, starting out of the room. He followed closely behind me.

            “Just saying.” He shrugged. “Need you in tip top shape for the game on Sunday. Isaac told me he’s gonna sprain his ankle on Friday.” Normally I would jump at the chance for a good banter with Jamie, but he was right, I was tired, and I couldn’t keep up. I must have taken a beat too long to respond because Jamie rolled his eyes and let out a loud dramatic groan. “You are no fun when you’re tired.”

            “You’re right, Jamie. I am fucking tired. I’m tried because every time I leave my house there’s another reporter there waiting for me to comment on the fact that I am somehow either single handedly saving the team or ruining it. Or how I’m sleeping with all of you at once, or whatever other bullshit they want to know.” I spun on my heel and faced him. “I’m tired because if we lose on Sunday, it’ll be my fault. I’m tired because every single day, I wake up and I’m actually so scared all the time that today will be the day that you all realize I’m ruining this club and kick me to the curb.”

I didn’t mean for it to all come out like that. I covered my mouth with my hand, surprised at my own candor. Jamie’s eyes were wide, his surprise matching my own.

            “I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” I admitted.

            “That was a lot,” He agreed, nodding his head. “Me dad’s been texting me.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Jamie had told me a bit about his parents. His dad was a piece of shit. His words not mine. I remembered at the end of last season, overhearing his father berate him in the training room. He hadn’t done good enough.

            “Wants tickets to the game on Sunday.”

I nodded, still not quite sure how to respond. “Are you gonna get them for him?”

Jamie shrugged, half-heartedly. “Gotta, don’t I? If I don’t, he’ll be right mad. So.”

In that moment I understood what he was saying. It was a tough week. For all of us. But for Jamie and I especially, and we understood each other.

            “We’ll get through it, yeah?” I said.

            “Yeah, we will,” he agreed.

I couldn’t be faking it. He had to be having these feelings as well. Our eyes were matching shades of wanting. But it wasn’t a sexual wanting it was an emotional want. We wanted to be understood and here we have it. We understood each other.

            “Anyways, well, I have to go, Sam’s getting his hair cut by Isaac, team needs to be there,” he told me.

            “Right!” I blinked, finally tearing my face away from him. “Well, good luck! I’ll see you at here for the bus to the match!”

Man City was awful. The game was awful. The crowd was awful. Everything about the game went poorly. We wanted to win so badly but City was just too good. You could hear a pin drop in the locker room as the boys cleaned up after the match. I stood with Colin, helping him with a stretched bicep. Our one of our physios was out for the match and I was filling in where I could. Still though, it was silent. It was like a cloud had landed on top of us and we were moving, lethargically through the fog.

            “Uh, Mr. Tartt?” The silence was broken by a security guard entering the room. “You have a visitor. Says he’s your father?”

I glanced over at Jamie. His already dark face dampened even further but he stood up, motioning the security guard to let him in. Jamie’s father’s face poked in through the doorway.

            “Are ya decent?” He laughed, though he didn’t really say anything funny. “I told ya, dick.” Glared at the security guard as he walked into the room. I patted Colin’s arm, quietly instructing him to sit down. “Gentlemen, gentlemen! It’s a tought one, lads. It’s tough one, but no shame to it, ‘cause you know, we only every beat, uh, everybody we play!” Again, he laughed at his own humor. I crossed my arms, standing in front of the lads defensively. “You pups never had a chance” His gazed landed on me and I felt myself tense. “Now hang on! It’s the wonder queen herself! The savior of the sport!”

He approached me lowly. I kept my gaze on him but was careful not to let my expression change, despite the fear that was bubbling up in my stomach. Behind me, I felt Colin stand, careful not to come across threatening but there if he needed to be.

Mr. Tartt looked me up and down before giving and impressed look. “I see why they hired, yah!” I didn’t reaction, much to his disappointment. “Oh, c’mon! I’m just having a laugh. Tell me, what’s it like having all the lads to yourself, huh? You got a favorite to seduce or is more of a group situation-“

            “Dad”

Jamie’s voice pulled him away from me. “And there he is! My own flesh and blood.”

The second his gaze wasn’t on me, I stepped back, standing next to Colin who rested a hand on my shoulder. I was shaking. I didn’t even notice that until he rested his hand on me. I shot him a quick look of thanks before returning my attention to Jamie.

He was awful. Belittling his son in front of his teammates, after using him to get what he wanted. I balled my hands into fists, wanting to step in and get this man away from Jamie. The despondent look on Jamie’s face was heartbreaking. He just stood there and took it, never saying a word. That was until he asked Jamie to take him on the field.

            “I’d rather you not.” Jamie was stone cold in his response. His dad glanced around at the team, trying to maintain his cool.

            “Yeah, they just want a look around,” His dad pressed, throwing some fake punches. “It’ll only take a second.”

            “I’d rather ‘em not,” Jamie repeated, unmoving.

His dad took a step back, shifting his weight. “What? You’re not gonna all go little moody bitch just ‘cause you got your arse served to you on a plate, are ya?”

            “Don’t speak to me like that.”

            “Huh?”

            “Don’t speak to me like that.”

            “Okay, well, let’s see if you can hear this, hmm?” His dad got in real close to his face, speaking directly into his ear. “You know that ickle TV show you made? You made it easier for Manchester City to kick you to the curb. And now look where you are.” This time his laugh was more sinister, condescending as he spoke down on his son. “Twaddling about with a bunch of amateurs and their social justice warrior!” He shot a glare over at me.

Jamie refused to be goaded though and began to turn away from his father. In an instant, two things happened. Mr. Tartt yanked Jamie towards him and pushed him then Jamie’s fist flew into his father’s face. I jumped to attention, beginning to move forward but Colin’s hand reached out to pull me back.

Jamie’s father let out a groan on the floor, trying to cover up his pain with a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Okay.” He stood up and began to move towards Jamie. “You can have that one for free.”

Jamie flinched backwards as his father began to rush him. Luckily, Beard stepped into wrap his arms around Mr. Tartt. He dragged him out, kicking and screaming insults and threats at Jamie until he was out of the room. Then silence returned. No one quite knew how to react. I looked down and realized my hands were shaking and my chest was heaving. Then I touched my cheek and realized tears had escaped my eyes and were now rushing down my cheeks.

What truly broke me was the fear on Jamie’s face. He was afraid of his father. I wanted to rush forward and take Jamie into my arms. Tell him it was going to be okay. But I was afraid that if I did, that I would collapse. Luckily, Roy, as usual, was there to assist. He marched forward and wrapped Jamie up in his arms. Jamie stood; shell shocked, unsure of how to react at first. Then he slung his arms around Roy and let out a sob.

…

Somehow, I ended up outside, watching the lads filter onto the bus. I was still feeling the aftereffects of my fear from the locker room and didn’t notice that Jamie had approached me.

            “You okay, (Y/N)?”

I dragged my eyes up to meet his. His eyes were full of concern for me. FOR ME? I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. And then I kept laughing and laughing. Jamie looked at me like I was crazy and honestly, I was. Eventually, I was able to calm myself down enough to speak again.

            “You’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Jamie shook his head. “Yah? What’s so funny about that? My dad got in your face.”

            “Oh, Jamie.” My laughter died out as I realized how serious he was. “I’m okay. Your dad doesn’t scare me.”

            “Well, he scares me,” He admitted, shoving his hands his pockets.

I could feel my heart aching. Like actually physical aching for him. Finally, I let myself reach forward and pull him towards me, wrapping him in a hug. He responded quickly, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders, keeping me tight against his body. I rested my cheek on his shoulder, letting him hold me as tight as he needed to for as long as needed to.

Tag List: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @ajax-petropolus-wife @higherthanheroes @heletsmelovehim

#jamie tartt #angst #enemies to lovers #eventual fluff #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso show

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Midnight Kiss

@wolfstarmicrofic Prompt 31, word count 912

It had been a bit rushed, but somehow they’d managed to pull it all together. Sirius had taken over the entirety of Potter Manor. Well, Effie and Monty had given it to him before he’d even managed to finish asking them if they could have the wedding there. 

They’d set up the ballroom with rows of chairs and a raised platform in front of them. Mary had placed huge vases of white and dark blue flowers on the platform as decoration and strung fairy lights all across the back wall behind them. She’d artfully bent the wires of a few sets to form the outline of a crescent moon and a star. Sirius had nearly cried when he saw it. 

Lily and Marlene wound tiny bunches of White Jasmine flowers around all the chairs. Picked by Lily for their delicate star shapes and sweet-smelling perfume. Everything else Effie had handled, refusing to take no for an answer. “I am your mother, Sirius, and I am doing this.”

She was a force to be reckoned with. She had been so efficient that everything was ready the day before the ceremony was due to start.

Sirius and Remus were dressing in separate rooms. Sirius had demanded that he get James as best man and to help him get ready. Remus had asked Peter to be his best man but said he was more than capable of dressing himself. 

There was a knock on Remus’s door just as he was buttoning the last button on his shirt. 

“Come in.” He said. The door slowly opened, revealing Lyall Lupin. Remus was shocked. “Dad? I, I didn’t think you’d come.” He swallowed nervously. He never knew how his father was going to react. 

“What, think I’d miss walking my only son down the aisle?” Lyall asked with amusement. “Sirius came to see me with this very, very long speech. Demanding that I be here for you or he’d make my life hell. I found that I couldn’t refuse. Mainly because I’d already decided I was coming, but he seemed so determined to say what he came to say that I didn’t have the heart to disappoint him.” Remus stared at his father and then burst into laughter. Feeling even more love than he already did with Sirius. 

Soon the knock came to say it was time, and Remus and Lyall followed Marlene out. 

Mary would be waiting for them as she was officiating everything. 

Marlene and Lily were maids of honour and bridesmaids combined. Lily would be leading Sirius. Marlene was leading Remus. 

“Ready, lad?” Lyall asked, holding out his arm for Remus to take. 

“More than I’ve ever been.” He grinned, linking their arms. 

Sirius went first, walking behind Lily with Effie and Monty on either side of him. 

Remus, Lyall and Marlene followed as soon as Sirius had reached the front. 

Remus took a moment to take Sirius in. They were wearing matching suits in a deep midnight blue, almost black. 

“How do you look so much better than I do?” He whined at Sirius, drooling over how the cut showed off his slim waist and thick-muscled arms. 

“I could ask the same question, sweetheart,” Sirius replied, biting his bottom lip and raking his eyes lustfully over Remus. 

“Rain it in, lover boys,” Mary said as she cleared her throat, preparing to begin. 

Sirius heard very little of what Mary said. He was sure it was beautiful, but all he could concentrate on at the moment was Remus. 

“Ahem!” His head snapped up to look at Mary. 

“Sorry, got distracted.” He said sheepishly to a polite smattering of laughter from their guests. 

“Do you, Sirius Orion Black, take Remus John Lupin as your lawfully wedded husband?” Mary repeated. Sirius didn’t even have to think about it. 

“I do.” He sighed, looking straight into Remus’s eyes.  

“And do you, Remus John Lupin, take Sirius Orion Black to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Remus said, a slight blush bringing a beautiful colour to his cheeks.

“Then I pronounce you married,” Mary said, her voice thick with emotion, tears threatening to fall. “And in exactly ten seconds, you may kiss your husband.” Everyone started chanting 

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,” They’d planned the ceremony to the second. So that they would have a midnight kiss as the world shifted into a new year. 

“Four, three, two.”

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his breath ghosting over Sirius’s lips.

“One!” Everyone cheered as Sirius leaned forward, closing the gap, and they kissed for the first time as a married couple. James set off some of Dr Filibuster’s best fireworks.

They kissed again and had to be pulled away from each other so that the ballroom could be changed for the reception party. 

“Well, Mr Lupin. How does it feel to be married?” Remus grinned at Sirius. 

“Amazing Mr Lupin. How about you?” Sirius couldn’t wipe the smile off his face at being addressed for the first time as Mr Lupin. 

“Amazing as well. However, I am wondering how long we need to be here before people are too drunk to notice we’ve snuck away.” He murmured into Sirius’s ear. 

“Oh, sod that,” Sirius growled, grabbing Remus’s wrist and dragging him out for the ballroom as chairs and fireworks flew above their heads. “It’s our party we can do what we want.” 

“Godric, I love you.” Remus sighed as he let himself be taken upstairs into Sirius’s room.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #james potter #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #effie potter #monty potter #lyall lupin #peter pettigrew #Midnight kiss #happy new year #marauders wedding

[bigball-thefrog]

Kiss me like you mean it: Buggy X Reader

______________________________

Alright lads I'm back with writing and posting again. Like I said in my pinned post I am sorry if you came for Dsmp and streamer fics but that hyper fixation has finish and I've now moved on to One Piece. I hope you'll all still enjoy my writing and stay for it. Now let's get onto the warnings

Warnings:

Slight angst

Buggy is sad and insecure

Angst to comfort

Gender neutral reader

______________________________

Buggy the Clown an infamous pirate in the east blue. Known for being a sadistic and insane clown that has killed many and stolen millions, he doesn't care who he's killed and as far as everyone sees he's a confident and arrogant pirate that thinks that he's the best around. Yet you know better. You're one of the few people that have been blessed to know Buggy more personally and intimately.. You're one of the few people that has seen him at his most vulnerable and know that this whole scary pirate persona is not entirely true. Yes he still acts confident and cocky in front of you but that's only to impress you. When you two are truly alone and there's nothing to impress you with, he's soft, he's quieter and he's very insecure...

(Reader POV)

I was sitting in mine and Buggy's shared room reading when Buggy stormed into the room, throwing off his jacket and hat and flopping onto the bed, mumbling something about a stupid Strawhat. I put my book down and smiled at him. "Hey my Huggy Buggy~" I said as I cuddled up to him and kissed his cheek. "I'm not in the mood today doll..." Buggy groaned as he turned and layed on his back to face me. I smirked and got on top of him, putting my hands on either side of him and looking at him seductively. "Oh are you in the mood for something else my captain?~" I leaned down to kiss him but he pushed me off of him and back on the bed. "I said I'm not in the mood!" He yelled as he turned and faced away from me while curling up into a ball.

I frown a little when I hear him choke back sob, not wanting to cry in front of me. I scooted closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Buggy? Do you want to talk about it?" I asked with a sympathetic tone, gently caressing his shoulder. "Why do you love me? What is so appealing to you that you'd fall in love with me and stay with someone as pathetic as I am!? Why!?" He yelled as he turned to me again, this time tears falling down his painted face. I cupped his face and brought him closer to me, "Because you're Buggy The Clown, Buggy The Flashy Fool, Buggy The Genius Jester. You're the most talented and flashiest pirate in the sea and in proud to have someone as amazing as you~" I said as I gave him a gentle kiss on the nose.

"Stop. Stop lying to me! There's nothing special or amazing about me! I'm just a pathetic clown that can't do anything! I couldn't even get a stupid map from that stupid nobody Strawhat!" Buggy shouted again as tears of frustration fell down his face. He pushed me away again and hid his face in his hands as he let out a few sobs. I pulled him into an embrace and he quickly wrapped his arms around me and burried his face into my chest as he cried. I rubbed his back with one hand as I gently scratched his head with the other. He eventually looked up at me with his clown paint all smudged. "I know that you don't actually love me... There's nothing to love. But please, just kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it, kiss me like you actually love me so I can feel just a little bit of love... Please..." Buggy said with a desperate look on his face. I leaned in close to him and gave him the most tender and loving kiss I could. I put his hand on my cheek and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss and holding me in place.

I truly love Buggy with all my heart, yet he just can't see it. I wish he could, he wish he knew how much I loved him and how much I would do for him. I'll always be there for him, to show him I love him and that he is actually great. No matter how long it takes, I will spend the rest of my life showing him that I truly care him and would never leave him for anything.

I pulled away from the kiss and made him look at me, "Hey, how about we go and take a relaxing bath and afterwards he clean off all that paint and I can get one of my face masks for you to make sure your face stays moisturized and beautiful alright?" I say to him with a smile. He smiles and nods "That sounds nice...~" "And if you'll let me I can wash and brush your hair while the face mask sits~" I said with a wink. He turned a soft shade of pink and turned away embarrassed, "Now you're spoiling me sweetheart!" He said playfully as he looked back and kissed me on the cheek before getting up while taking my hand and dragging us both to the bathroom to begin our peaceful night.

There's my Buggy that I know~

______________________________

Lordy Loo this man has completely taken over my mind these past few days. I've been craving Buggy angst and I think this has helped a lot. I already have a few things planned but I still will do requests. Take care and I'll see yall in the next post.

Kelly🐸

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #captain buggy #buggy x reader #op buggy #one piece #oneshot #opla #one piece live action #one piece anime #one piece angst #buggy angst #one piece netflix

[anneangel]

Friendship...

I just love the friendship between Bilbo and Elrond, Bilbo and Aragorn, Bilbo and Frodo, and Bilbo and Thranduil, and I'm sad because I've already read all the little fanfictions about Bilbo's friendship with them!

So here are some excerpts from the books in case anyone wants to get inspired:

“Hmmm! it smells like elves!” thought Bilbo, and he looked up at the stars. … He loved elves, though he seldom met them. … Bilbo would have liked to stay a while. Also he would have liked to have a few private words with these people that seemed to know his names and all about him, although he had never seen them before. He thought their opinion of his adventure might be interesting. Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know what is going on among the peoples of the land, as quick as water flows, or quicker. (…) They (the dwarves, Gandalf and Bilbo) stayed long in that good house, fourteen days at least, and they found it hard to leave. Bilbo would gladly have stopped therefor ever and ever.

The master of the house was an elf-friend — one of those people whose fathers came into the strange stories before the beginning of History, the wars of the evil goblins and the elves and the first men in the North. In those days of our tale there were still some people who had both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Elrond the master of the house was their chief. — He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer. He comes into many tales, but his part in the story of Bilbo’s great adventure is only a small one, though important (…) His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley.

(...) Bilbo heard many stories there (...)

“What are moon-letters?” asked the hobbit full of excitement. He loved maps (…) and he also liked runes and letters and cunning handwriting, though when he wrote himself it was a bit thin and spidery.

“Moon-letters are rune-letters, but you cannot see them,” said Elrond, “not when you look straight at them (…)”.

There a warm welcome was made them, and there were many eager ears that evening to hear the tale of their adventures (…). When the tale of their journeyings was told, there were other tales, and yet more tales, tales of long ago, and tales of new things, and tales of no time at all, till Bilbo’s head fell forward on his chest, and he snored comfortably in a corner. He woke to find himself in a white bed, and the moon shining through an open window. (…) “A little sleep does a great cure in the house of Elrond,” said he.

Weariness fell from him soon in that house, and he had many a merry jest and dance, early and late, with the elves of the valley. - The Hobbit

‘(…) you are the heir of Bilbo, the Ring-finder.'

`Dear Bilbo!' said Frodo sleepily. `I wonder where he is. I wish he was here and could hear all about it. It would have made him laugh. (…)

Gloin looked at Frodo and smiled. 'You were very fond of Bilbo were you not?' he asked.

`Yes,' answered Frodo. 'I would rather see him than all the towers and palaces in the world.'

Elrond went forward and stood beside the silent figure. 'Awake little master!’ he said, with a smile. Then, turning to Frodo, he beckoned to him. 'Now at last the hour has come that you have wished for, Frodo,' he said. `Here is a friend that you have long missed.'

The dark figure raised its head and uncovered its face. `Bilbo!' cried Frodo with sudden recognition, and he sprang forward.

`Hello, Frodo my lad!' said Bilbo. `So you have got here at last. Ihoped you would manage it. Well, well! So all this feasting is in your honour, I hear. I hope you enjoyed yourself?'

`What were you doing?'

`Why, sitting and thinking. I do a lot of that nowadays, and this is the best place to do it in, as a rule. Wake up, indeed!' he said, cocking an eye at Elrond. There was a bright twinkle in it and no sign of sleepiness that Frodo could see. 'Wake up! I was not asleep. Master Elrond. If you want to know, you have all come out from your feast too soon, and you have disturbed me-in the middle of making up a song. (…) I shall have to get my friend the Dunadan to help me. Where is he?'

Elrond laughed. `He shall be found,' he said. (...)

They did not notice the arrival of a man clad in dark green cloth. For many minutes he stood looking down at them with a smile. Suddenly Bilbo looked up. 'Ah, there you are at last, Dunadan!' he cried.

`Strider!' said Frodo. `You seem to have a lot of names.' (…)

`Where have you been, my friend? Why weren't you at the feast? The Lady Arwen was there.'

Strider looked down at Bilbo gravely. `I know,' he said. 'But often I must put mirth aside. Elladan and Elrohir have returned out of the Wild (…).

`Well, my dear fellow,' said Bilbo, `now you've heard the news, can't you spare me a moment? I want your help in something urgent. Elrond says this song of mine is to be finished before the end of the evening, and I am stuck. Let's go off into a corner and polish it up!'

Strider smiled. `Come then!' he said. `Let me hear it!'

(…)

`I was not sent to beg any boon, but to seek only the meaning of a riddle,' answered Boromir proudly(…) He looked again at Aragorn, and doubt was in his eyes.

Frodo felt Bilbo stir impatiently at his side. Evidently he was annoyed on his friend's behalf. Standing suddenly up he burst out:

‘(…) Not all those who wander are lost (…)’. Not very good perhaps, but to the point -- if you need more beyond the word of Elrond. If that was worth a journey of a hundred and ten days to hear, you had best listen to it.' He sat down with a snort.

`I made that up myself,' he whispered to Frodo, `for the Dunadan, a long time ago when he first told me about himself. I almost wish that my adventures were not over, and that I could go with him when his day comes.'

Aragorn smiled at him; then he turned to Boromir again. `For my part I forgive your doubt,' he said.

- The Lord Of The Rings.

And for Bilbo and Thranduil, here, see this post:

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #lord of the rings #lotr #elrond #elrond peredhel #frodo baggins #aragorn #thranduil #tolkien books #jrr tolkien #I need more fanfictions

[hannahssimblr]

Epilogue (Final Part)

It’s hours later and we’re still talking. The DJ arrives around ten and cracks the speakers up to ear-ringing heights so we exit to the lobby and stand by the window as the snow falls and the lights from the ten foot Christmas tree twinkle on the glass. 

“No, no, stop, I can’t take it anymore,” He shrieks in agony as he grabs my arm, “He said that when he was inside you?”

“Yes! I didn’t know what to say back, like, um, thanks pal?”

“‘You’re so Alpha’” He repeats, deadpan, but his shoulders betray him when they start wobbling again, “‘and I’m just a little-”

“Beta boy, yes. Oh Evie, you intimidate me so much, I’ve always wanted to fuck a girl who scared me.”

“I’m going to die because of this story,” He cries, “I refuse to believe that men like this exist, it’s just too much.”

“There was this other lad too,” I begin, “Not as bad, but he got a nosebleed halfway through and it was dripping all over my face for like fifteen minutes before either of us noticed.”

“No!”

“Yeah, God, I feel bad, I think he was on some blood thinning medication or something but like…” We fall about laughing again, laughing and laughing until I think I’ll start gagging. I remember thinking during that experience that there was only one other person in the world who would find it as hilarious as I did, and as we splutter and cackle now at my retelling I remember how it used to be like this all of the time with us. I think about the time we lost through staying out of touch as he wipes his eyes and stumbles to the side a little bit, from laughing or from drinking a little too much, I’m not sure.

“Women are not like that,” he says, “I’m sorry for you, but they’re not, even the crazy LA ones don’t put me in situations like that.” He steadies himself a little by bracing his arm on the wall, so close that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. “I just don’t get it, do you think they get nervous?”

“Nervous around me? I doubt it. Sure what’s there to be nervous of?”

“It’s a lot of pressure, you know, making love to a beautiful woman for the first time. There’s a lot on the line, the chances of humiliation are high, maybe, I don’t know, maybe that guy just blurted the first weird thing that came into his head-” He breaks off because a high pitched laugh has exploded out of him again, “But it’s a flex to say that you’re so hot that you give men nosebleeds.”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.”

“No, for real. Don’t you remember how nervous you made me when we were young? I turned into a total idiot around you.”

“Hardly.”

“It’s true. You were like this stunning princess and I was just some guy.”

I scoff, “Some guy?”

“Yeah, and it’s nice to see that some things never change because you’re still so beautiful and I’m still just a random man off the street.”

“Hmm, c’mon, you’re just schmoozing me,” I say, “Is this the way you all sweet-talk each other in Los Angeles? That’s not going to work. Irish girls are too humble to accept that.”

“Have I made you self-conscious?”

“No, I’m just wondering if you’re actually trying to flirt with me now or if you’re just trying to make me feel better about the fact that I’m thirty and my body is slowly ageing and rotting away.”

“Don’t say that, you look better than ever.”

I narrow my eyes, “I’m so curious about your game.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, how you approach women, how you flirt with them now. What’s your technique? Is it intense flattery?”

He scoffs, “Oh, no, come on, I don’t have a technique, I don’t think about it like that.”

“No?”

“What do you think I am? Some kind of weirdo pick-up artist? No. I… I improvise, it depends on so much, like, where I am, who she is, what I feel like I’m hoping to get from the situation…”

“Okay okay, right. Well what if you were at an event with friends. Say, a wedding…”

He smirks at me.

“…and you see a woman standing on her own by the bar, and you know, she’s pretty mysterious in quite a sexy way, and you’re looking at her and thinking, hmm, yeah, maybe I’d like a piece of that-”

“You think that’s my inner monologue?” He interrupts, “That I think like that?”

“No, shh- shut up for a second, in this scenario you do. And you’re going to go over and talk to her, and you see the perfect opportunity to do it, and the lights from the dancefloor are shining in her hair, and oh, she looks so lonely over there, someone should go and keep her company…’

“I’d say hi, you’re very pretty, can I kiss you please?”

“Really?”

“Yeah t-”

He doesn’t finish because I have grabbed him by the lapels and pressed my lips against his. Maybe it’s for the joke, or because I’m slightly drunk, or maybe it’s to see if it still feels the way that it used to, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, it’s just happening. 

“Oh look, it worked!” I say as we pull away, and I don’t really have a chance to try and read his face to see what he thinks about it because he takes a step towards me and kisses me again, though differently to how I kissed him, gentler, slower, with my head cradled in his hands, which is inconvenient because he makes my insides start flip flopping around. I draw back laughing, “What are you at?”

“We’re kissing now,” he confirms, then frowns, “I think. Aren’t we kissing? Or is this a hallucination?”

“Jude…”

“Don’t you want us to be kissing?”

“Well it’s not that, it’s-”

“Ah, you think it’s dangerous to be kissing.”

“If you keep saying ‘kissing’ it’s going to lose all meaning.”

“What did we call it when we were teenagers? Shiftin’ right? Will you shift me, Evie?”

“Oh my God,” I hold my hand up to his face, “it is illegal for you to put on an accent and say that. I hate that you can still do that.”

“My Irish voice?” he says in his Irish voice. 

“Please get that away from me!”

“Sorry about that,” he settles back into his American drawl, and I jerk with surprise as I feel the tips of his fingers graze my waist, “Also, I’m sorry that I kissed you, I thought we were, you know, doing that now.”

“It was a joke… And maybe just a little bit so that I could see if it still felt the same as it used to.”

His eyes tour my face, “Did it?”

“Did it for you?”

The corners of his mouth tick up, “I don’t know, it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed you, and honestly I didn’t get a decent sample, mind if I try it again?”

“Aha! I’ve figured out your game,” I declare, “You put on that silly act you’ve always put on, don’t you?”

He hooks his finger into the strap of my dress before it drops off my shoulder, “Hm? What act is that?”

“Your favourite one. ‘Oh, little old me? I’m so innocent, why I’ve never even held hands before, and I certainly haven’t fucked half of Dublin city. I don’t even know what sex is.’”

He gasps with delight and stares right into my face, “You’re still obsessed!” He cries, “and you haven’t stopped wondering about me!”

“About what, exactly?”

“My body count! After all these years it still tortures you. You’re so shallow…”

“Oh please, I couldn’t care less.”

“Evie,” He says mock-scoldingly, really drawing out the syllables, “I can’t believe it. I told you back then that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t have to tell you if I didn’t want to, but you’ve never let it go to this day. Wow. Wow.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I sniff, “It’s meaningless information to me now.”

“Well since you don’t care and it has no power over you anymore, maybe you finally ought to know…” He glances quickly around the empty lobby before his eyes slide back to mine and he whispers, “that you were the seventh.”

“The seventh?”

“Is that a good-surprise or bad-surprise?”

“Well I thought it’d be so many more.”

He shrugs, “No, I mean there was the first girl in the playground, then a girl who worked in the tennis club at the beach, a girl from my maths class at school, Michelle, someone from my university, Astrid, and then you-” He pauses, “Wait, there was another one. You were eighth. Seventh and a half.”

“And a half? Who did you forget? A centaur?”

He shakes his head, “There was an awkward foursome situation in Berlin once. It’s a long story, really stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Well I’ve never been more curious.”

“I’m a source of a lot of interesting info.”

“Like your current body count?” I tease.

“Oh, now I’m ran-through.”

“Tell me more about your life.”

“We just don’t have the time tonight.”

“What, not now?” I protest, “Not in this perfectly perfect situation when we’re both a little drunk and potentially snowed in for days, when there’s nothing to do but talk to each other?”

“No, see you’ve changed the subject, you’ve got me messed up. I…” He laughs tipsily and sways a little bit closer to me, through accident or otherwise I’m not sure, “…I was thinking about how much I might like to kiss you for a little longer this time, just to see if you still give me that same crazy feeling that I used to get with you, and you distracted me.”

I act like it’s a burden to me and slump back against the wall, “Fine, go ahead.”

“Oh jeez, no need to beg me, you know it’s off putting to be so eager?”

“Please?”

He comes in close and pecks my lips gently and even that makes my knees start to wobble. “No, come on, give me a proper kiss, that’s the only way we’ll know.”

“Still so demanding,” He tilts my chin towards him and angles his mouth over mine while his hands skim up my back and hold my body flush to his.  As he strokes his lips over mine I can’t help but curse inwardly because of course this is happening to me, of course it feels like everything I’ve been searching for in the years between then and now, everything I couldn’t find in other people. These are the kinds of kisses that ruined me for other men for years to follow, and he’s ruining me now. 

He glides his tongue along my lower lip and builds this kiss to the kind of intensity that shouldn’t be displayed in a public lobby, but he doesn’t care so neither do I. He kisses me until I’m soft and formless in his arms, until I forget the years in between then and now, and then he finally slows it, brushing his lips against mine and then gently drawing away and I find myself following his mouth in search of more, “The same?” He murmurs with his forehead against mine, “Or terrible?”

His hand cradles the back of my head as I sigh and bury my face in his shoulder, “What are we going to do, Jude?”

“You’re going to have to try not to be awkward about it because we might be snowed in for several days.” He says, “If you’ve decided I’m crusty and repulsive, you’re going to have to hide it from me to spare my ego. Either that or I’ll camp out in my room out of humiliation and get my sister to bring my meals to me until I can get the earliest flight to LAX.”

I pause, “so you’re sharing with your sister?”

“Yeah we booked late, so a twin room was all they had left. And she snores like hell.”

“Well that’s a pity because I booked months ago, and got a huge room all to myself. A four poster bed and a big gorgeous bath.”

“Are you bringing that up to make me jealous or is that an invitation?”

I scoff, “an invitation to what, exactly?”

“Come up and fuck you in the bath or something, I don’t know. Why would you bring the bath into it?”

“That’d be fairly shameless of me, wouldn’t it, if that’s what I was alluding to.”

“Is that the kind of woman you’ve become? The kind that invites strange men into her bath?”

“God no, I’d never directly ask that, that’d be very slutty.”

He brushes his fingers gently along the side of my neck, which is unfair because he knows how much I like that, and as I feel that touch all the way down to my toes he gives me a sly little smile and draws back to look at me, “I don’t know, you’ve really talked up this bath and you’ve got me curious. Will you show it to me?”

“You’ve always been so cheeky, did you know that? You ask audacious things of people.”

“Me? Never. That’s just not me, you must be thinking of somebody else. Of one of your other ex-boyfriends.” He grins and saunters casually toward the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at me as he goes, “I actually just remembered that I spilled something on my suit.”

“Did you.”

“Mm, I’m a total mess, I might be drunker than I look. I think I better go and take it off.”

“Doesn’t suit you anyway. You were always better in shorts.”

He pauses for a moment and regards me with one raised eyebrow, a question, and I don’t care that I’m predictable to him, that he already knows I will push myself away from the wall and catch up to him, “Actually you have the right idea, my dress is uncomfortable. I want to change out of it, only I’m not sure I can manage the zip on my own.”

“Oh, I can help you with that,” he says, “Or at least I can try, you know, but fair warning I haven’t ever undressed a woman before.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I smile, as I wind my fingers through his. 

THE END

Beginning // Prev

#lucky girl part 3 #it's over!!! #i mean it's been over on WP fro about 3 months but it's nice to have caught up here finally #and on my 30th birthday! #crazy timing tbh #thank you all again for reading along #this project really was so amazing and so special to me #tw: sex mention

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝THE SECOND DRINK.❞

(not my gif)

summary: the second part to the firewhiskey series, this time liquid courage brings you to the aftermath of the world cup. the drunken celebration and the we are the champions euphoria and the singing and dancing inside of your enormous tent - possibly the last time you and george would feel invincible, just hours before the world was flipped upside down.

warnings: domestic fluff, alcohol again, obviously, mentions of near-death experiences/being trampled, the phrase “drinking like a maniac” is used but in no way is alcohol being abused

word count: 1.4k

a/n: okay, okay, i know like 95% of what i write is smut, but i seriously love writing domestic fluff. :) hope you enjoy!

//////

“Let’s fucking go!” Fred shouted the moment he’d stomped back into the tent, flinging his arms into the air, “Break out the Firewhiskey, lads, it’s time to get our Irish party on…”

“Stop shouting, Fred,” Percy said irritably from the couch, shutting his outdated copy of Witch Weekly with a sharp SLAP. “You wouldn’t want Mother to hear about this, I assure you, I know you’ve been drinking like a maniac.”

“You’re so right, Weatherby,” George chortled from alongside Fred, and as Percy’s ears glowed red, you had to slap a hand to your mouth to suppress your laugh.

“Where did the boys go?” Arthur asked blankly from behind the twins, pivoting on his heel. Whether genuine or otherwise, he appeared not to have heard Fred’s desire to get drunk. “I - Harry?”

“Sorry, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as he ducked back into the tent, out of breath and red in the face. “That was - um, we ran into a couple of people.”

“That was the stupidest stunt I think you’ve ever pulled in your life, Ron!” a young, shrill voice you quickly realized was Hermione Granger’s shrieked from just outside the tent. “Five Galleons? For what?”

“Please don’t ask,” Harry tried weakly.

It had been an awkward stretch of time between the initial finale of the World Cup in the late afternoon and however long it had taken for the rest of them to get back to the tent after they’d decided to fetch some water from the opposite side of the campground. First getting back to your tent in the influx of wizards leaving the arena had been a terrifying endeavour, when everyone was shouting, cheering, dancing, singing, setting off green and gold bursts of sparks from their wands, and leprechauns were scampering about.

In fact, the horde had almost trampled you in their excitement, and you knew you’d never be able to repay Charlie for snatching you out just in time.

So it was understandable why you’d been reluctant to return to the festivities since then: you’d been lounging in the flat-sized tent with the older Weasley siblings, sipping tea and watching your leprechaun gold disappear on the counter while you waited for everyone to come back.

“I am ready to sleep for three days,” Ginny announced as she flounced back into the tent, her hands on her hips. “God, what a match!”

“Moran - Mullet - back to Moran - they score!” George cried out, laughing heartily at himself. “Where’s Bagman, eh? We’re bloody rich.”

“Where’s your girl?” Fred asked, looking around blankly, but he spotted you instantly. “Oh, there she is.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the title.

“You survived the campground,” you mumbled with a small smile on your face.

“We did,” George replied, stepping forward to wrap you in a hasty, one-armed hug. For seemingly no reason, he leaned in to kiss the side of your head, but you recognized the gesture for what it was.

“You still got the Firewhiskey?” he whispered in your ear.

You did: until Fred had openly announced his intention to get drunk, it had been kept a bit on the down low that you had the rest of the five Galleon bottle hidden away in your bag in the girls’ tent, because you knew there wasn’t a chance Molly would allow you to bring liquid courage to the World Cup.

(Honestly, it had been a bit saddening, knowing you were about to drink the rest of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get to Diagon Alley before you went off to Hogwarts to replenish your stash, and you’d be damned trying to getting a glass from Madam Rosmerta at Hogsmeade, so this was your summer’s last hurrah.)

Looking to the positive, you nodded slightly and released him.

“May as well put dinner on,” said Arthur, wandering around the kitchen kind of aimlessly, “The festivities will be starting soon...”

Ginny laughed, tossing her fiery red mane over her shoulder. “You say that like they haven’t already started, Dad.”

“We won, lads!” Fred took the opportunity to shout again, and everyone laughed, except Percy, but you saw his slight smile.

//////

As the evening progressed, the party atmosphere around the campground intensified. The sound of drums and bagpipes echoed through the night, people sang songs in the beautiful Irish tongue you couldn’t understand, and at some point, people began setting off colorful Muggle fireworks, casting dazzling spells into the night sky. Wizarding and magical entertainment combined together, it made for a wonderful and chaotic night.

The Weasley family and their friends gathered around a small campfire outside the tent, toasting marshmallows and giving each other a play-by-play of the afternoon’s match for the millionth time. It didn’t matter how many times they went over the match, how many lively debates erupted, or how many times somebody claimed to see the Snitch flying around before Krum, nobody could get enough.

“Moran was doing things with a Quaffle I’ve never seen before,” Ginny was saying, her eyes shining. “I cannot believe she was able to get that second goal past Zograf, it was honestly astounding-“

Above your heads, fireworks were detonating in fascinating spirals and twists bursting with colour, drowning out Ginny’s voice.

Tipsy, you stared up at them in wonder. There were leprechauns giggling and frolicking among the twinkling stars, taunting those sitting below, and the fireworks were consistently a mix of orange, green, and white for Ireland’s flag - you hadn’t seen any retaliation from the Bulgarian corner of the campsite just yet, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Ireland was demanding all the attention.

George had pulled you into him on the log, the Muggle fire was crackling in front of you, orange and warm. Your throat was still on fire from the first sips of Firewhiskey, but you were already feeling the warmth of the drink in your belly, and for a moment, all was well. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of George’s neck. He smelled like a spice you couldn’t quite place, and Chocolate Frogs.

“No time for losers…’cause we are the champions…” you heard a crowd singing in the distance, and you smiled gently, delighted that a Muggle song was so catchy, it had found its way into the wizarding world.

Amid the laughter and cheer, you couldn't help but express your curiosity about the mysterious stunt that Ron and Harry had pulled earlier, so you discreetly tapped Ron on the shoulder.

“Come on, you two, spill the beans. What did you do for those five Galleons?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

On his other side, Harry exchanged a glance with Ron before sharing a mischievous grin.

(Merlin, did he ever look like his father.)

"Let's just say we had a little bet with some fellow fans, and things got a bit competitive," Harry said, trying to be vague while his green eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ginny, who had been chatting with Bill, Charlie, and Percy, overheard their conversation and couldn't resist chiming in. "Oh, I know exactly what they did. You see, they challenged a group of Bulgarian fans to a broomstick race. They had to fly around the campsite three times, and the first one back won.”

Ron laughed, confirming Ginny's story, "Yeah, and I flew like a bat out of hell. Harry and I beat those Bulgarians fair and square. I've never seen Harry fly so fast, bloody hell.”

The group erupted into laughter as Ron continued his story in a melodramatic tone, describing his daring flight and the impressed expressions on the Bulgarian fans' faces. Even Percy, over on the other log, couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridicule of it.

“You know you weren’t supposed to do that, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, but her sourness seemed a bit forced: she had clearly enjoyed the spectacle just as much as everyone else.

With everyone laughing and merry, it seemed like a good time to slip away.

“Want a tea, George?” you asked rather pointedly, without looking at him.

Catching on, George was already getting up from the log. “Isn’t the kettle in the tent?’

“Be right back, everyone,” you announced, before you hurried back into the tent that positively stunk of cats.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you couldn't help but reflect on the incredible bond you had formed with the Weasley family. Your last summer hurrah had turned into an unforgettable adventure, and you looked forward to more magical moments at Hogwarts in the coming year.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #harry potter #hp #hp fandom #hp fic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #fred weasley #james phelps #oliver phelps #ron weasley #ginny weasley #arthur weasley #hermione granger

[raffe156]

Escape to the country part 3

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - Close, but no cigar...💔

 “You broken?”  

 Escape part 1

Escape part 2

Little mood board to help give you the visual. As always feedback encouraged and comments welcomed! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!

A/N -Bit shorter than the other parts but wanted to get it up, I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha 

Warnings for the whole storyline - Under 18+ DNI,  angst, Smut, Masturbation (F + M), Language, mutual pining, alcohol,fluff, Age gap Relationship feelings, Price (39) reader (Tank, 25) mentions of family,domestic fluff

Tags: @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81​​ ​ @mildlyhopeless

It was close to midnight, You and Price had mostly sat in silence, happy just being in each other's company, watching the fire crackle and spit.

“We should probably get to bed kid, early start tomorrow”

You sat up straight stretching, you had been practically leaning on him. You glanced over a Kyle he was still out cold, you had placed a blanket over him earlier.

“Probably too big to carry to bed eh?” You softly laughed.

“What? I could easily carry you! have done before, in fact who was it that carried you back 2 miles to the evac point that time in Bosnia when you sprained your ankle? Me” Price pointed both his thumbs back at himself triumphantly.

“I meant Kyle…”

“Oh…yeh he can take himself to bed…” Price chuckled as he got up from the couch stretching, his grey T-shirt lifting up to show his abdomen, a trail of dark auburn hair leading down past the waistband of his joggers and to his…

“You ok? zoned out there for a sec” Price was looking at you, his sleepy eyes searching for the planet you were on.

“Yeh...I'm good i'll wake him up while you put the fire out deal?” You got up from the couch and gently tapped Kyle on the shoulder.

“Kyle, time for bed…” You had to be gentle with him as Kyle was like you, any abrupt attempt to wake you up resulted in confusion, panic and always a fight.

You had a special way of dealing with each other, you each understood what the other needed when at their most vulnerable. When you didn’t get a response from him, you softly squeezed his hand rubbing your thumb on his palm, this was one of your secret ways of telling each other to wake up.

It worked Kyle opened his eyes slowly glancing around then at you, his anchoring point. He knew he was ok. Price looked on at your both, he admired the system you had both developed he knew all too well how being woken in a strange place could sometimes effect those in your kind of work.

“Time for bed Kyle”

“How long was I asleep?”

“About 2 hours lad, don’t worry I stopped her from drawing a dick on your face”

“Thanks, Cap uhhhh” Kyle stretched and handed you the blanket to fold and put away, you shook your head taking it always picking up after him you thought.

“You two go up I’m gonna lock up down here then ill be up in a bit like I said early start tomorrow nice walking trail then a Pub lunch on me” Price smiled at you. You let out a soft laugh, walking trail, pub lunch? Who was this man, either way you didn’t care you were enjoying it.

“Right I'm going up you coming Tank?” Kyle shuffled back out into the kitchen. “Night, Boss”

“Night, son”

You hesitated still holding the folded blanket, Price clocked you still standing there, making his way over he held out his hand for the blanket.

“I'll take that tar, what’s up not tired?”

Your body was shattered, but your mind was racing if only he knew what you had been thinking earlier in the shower what you had done what you had cried out? Would he tell you you’d crossed a line? Tell you that you were out of order and not to think of him that way? You would only ever be, could only ever be Captain and sergeant? Or would he say he had felt the same, had thought about you in every way, having you in every way? You realised you had been staring at the last few embers dancing in the fireplace when you felt him tug at the blanket.

“You must be tired second time you have spaced out on me? Go on get to bed, I’ve checked in the wardrobe and under the bed no monsters” He let out a chuckle as he turned to place the blanket over the back of the armchair.

“Yeh sorry, I’m knackered. Thanks again for dinner it was amazing didn’t know you had it in you!” You turned and made your way out of the snug and into the kitchen Price followed you close behind.

“Want me to help you lock up? I don’t mind” you were hovering now, just go to bed you thought! Price gave you a smile and shook his head.

“No, I’m ok locking up, like I said I’m gonna have a nightcap and a smoke”

It had just dawned on you since arriving he hadn’t smoked or had a cigar in his hand all day?

“I was just thinking I haven’t seen one cigar or ashtray, what’s up with that?”

“Don’t want the house smelling of cigar smoke, plus I’m trying to cut down” He ran his hand over his face, he looked tired you wanted to tell him to come to bed and not necessarily on his own. Stop now.

“I like the smell if I’m honest, I’ve got used to it over the years haha” the laugh was a nervous one, oh please just shut up and go to bed you told yourself he obviously wants some alone time to smoke and have a drink. Price laughed as he raised his eyebrows, so you didn’t mind the smell of his cigars eh?. He went round to the other side of the island grabbing his cigar box and a bottle of Macallan 18 he placed them on the counter and as he reached for two short glasses, he noticed you shuffling towards the double doors.

“I’m gonna head up, leave you to it, Night John” you gave him a little smile as you turned out into the hallway. Just the one glass then he thought.

 “Night kid, sweet dreams…”

*********

2:30 am

You had been in and out of consciousness since getting in bed even though this bed was better than your own, the sheets were softer the pillows plumper you just couldn't fully switch off. You decided you were going to go downstairs and make yourself a tea Price had mentioned the different teabags he had bought for the weekend, maybe there was a camomile one? You knew it wouldn’t help. You knew what would, but you weren’t even going there. You made your way out of your room, it was a bit chilly but you chose to leave your hoodie in the room you would be back up in 10mins you thought.

You stopped outside Price’s room, would he be up? You listened for signs of movement, silence. You carried on down the stairs.

You opened the double doors slowly not wanting to make a sound you closed them silently behind you. The door to the snug shut, probably locked you thought. You switched the counter spotlights on and flip the kettle on grabbing your cup from the draining board and tried to remember where Price had said the flavored tea bags were. You decided to open all the cupboards you would find them eventually after you had opened nearly every one of them you remembered they weren’t in a cupboard they were in a draw!

“The draw next to the toaster!” You shouted by mistake, instantly slapping your hands over your mouth! The room to the snug creaked open. Shit.

  *********

 2:15 am

Price had been sat in the snug for longer than he had wanted to, he was more than halfway into the bottle of whisky and he had finished his cigar long ago, the embers now tiny flicks of light. His mind just wouldn’t stop no matter how many glasses he downed no matter how blurry his vision got. You. That’s all his mind was showing him. It had been replaying earlier in the rain over and over to him, you both crammed into the shelter, you pressed against him, his hands still gripping you tight. The look you had given him, the look that held him in a trance, then the way you had bitten your lip looking at him like you wanted him. He opened his eyes, he felt himself going hard again, he looked at his watch 2:15am no chance of being disturbed. He slid his hand into his pants pulling them down slightly freeing his cock from his boxer shorts. As he stroked himself slowly he imagined you sprawled out in his bed under him, you reaching out for him you wanted him, needed him like he needed you. Your skin soft and hot to the touch, he imagined himself slowly sinking into you till he was buried to the hilt, he gripped himself that little bit tighter as he pumped away, going that little bit faster as the images of you coming undone under him danced in his mind, he let his head fall back as he felt himself coming close

“Fuckkkkk…” he slurred as he whispered your name to himself……in his drunken lust he hadn’t heard the kettle boiling or the cupboards being ransacked…it wasn't until you had shouted did he snap back around realising he wasn’t alone anymore, he quickly pulled his pants up and tucked his still very hard erection into this waistband. Without thinking, he stood up and wandered over to the door, the drink giving him a false sense of sturdiness and coordination. Why was it that his mind was so clear just now imagining you, but now when you were just on the other side of the door in real life did it decide to cloud over in a whisky fuelled haze? He pulled the door open, finding you stood in the kitchen in just a baggy T-shirt. Christ.

“I'm so sorry Boss…I didn’t mean to shout…I couldn’t sleep and remember you had the herbal tea bags and then I couldn’t remember where you said they were and…”

Price walked over to you, the smell of cigar smoke and whisky filled your nose, was he drunk?

“Shtop, listennn dont worry bout it, kid its fineee”

He was drunk.

“How much have you had to drink?” You laughed as he leaned on the island facing you his arms behind him propping him up.

“A few but I’m okkkk” He was trying to act sober you could tell you had only seen him tipsy but never this drunk before. He was looking you up and down, god did he want you the bulge in his waistband straining against the fabric. His eyes fell to the T-shirt you had on even drunk he noticed that it wasn’t just any T-shirt it was one of his, it was the very same T-shirt he had been wearing under all his gear when you both had been shot, he could tell because there was a little hole on the shoulder. Without thinking again he reached forward poking his finger into it. The action took you by surprise as you could feel his fingertip brushing your scared tissue. He glanced down at you taking your hand in his an placed it on his chest under your fingertips you could feel the unmistakable bump of the same scar tissue. He rested his hand flat on top of yours and gave you that eye-crinkling smile. It caused your heart to flutter. You both stood for a few minutes in silence.

“I thought it would be funny…to wear my members-only T-shirt” you said softly as he let go of your hand.

“Nicee touch, I like it” he was really trying to sound sober. You hadn’t realised but he had closed the gap between you both as his hand was now resting on the sink behind you.

“How much have you had to drink?” You couldn’t help the little laugh as he closed his eyes, pretending to count.

“Don’t know, a few ha ha” he was concentrating on your face you must have been a blur to him. What was he doing? What were you doing?

“You know kidd I’ve bin meanin to get somethin off my chesttt” he looked away as if trying to muster the words. Was he really going to tell you how he had been feeling recently, how he thought something had changed between you? Before he could continue you placed your hand on his arm.

“Not now…let’s both get some sleep an wait till morning and if you still want to get it off your chest, we will talk how does that sound?”

He sighed you were right, even drunk he knew you were right and he would only balls up what he wanted to say anyway.

“Yeh your right, less talk in the mornin” Price dropped his head his face was a few inches from yours the smell of spilled whisky on his beard an the earthy cigar smoke on his tongue filled your lungs you wanted it to coat them. You rubbed little circles on his arm feeling the tight muscles under his skin, the little scars where the hair hadn’t grown back fully. You looked up at him, his head still bowed looking at the floor you studied his face the soft dark lashes that framed his dark blue eyes which were now staring at you.

“I’m sorry kid, shouldn’t let you see me like this ha ha not very Captain of me!”

 You chuckled, looking out the window behind you.

“If anything it makes you more human to me, it shows your vulnerability John”

God he really did love you calling him by his name, he smiled at you.

“Right let's head up to bed, you first I’ll shut the doors behind me come on” you put your hand on his back to steer him towards the double doors opening then before he crashed through them.

“Easy!! Don’t want Kyle waking up as well”

He comically shushed himself as you closed the doors behind you both. You had to hold in the laugh or else you would have set him off.

In the dark you pushed him by the back up the stairs, to be honest, if he did fall back there wasn't much you would be able to do. You ushered him to his room, stepping in to turn on the bedside lamp so as to not blind the two of you. Price walked right past you and flopped into bed as he did he knocked over an empty glass on the side, luckily his room was carpeted so it only bounced and rolled under the bed, you looked over at him his huge mass nearly taking up the whole king size bed, but if you moved his arm you thought, there was a nice little spot just right for you to curl up in? Stop it.

“Right I'm off to bed are you going to be ok? I don’t need to put you in the recovery position, do I?” You leaned over him just to check.

“I'll be fine…get in bed…” he had an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the light. You contemplated just getting in next to him, for his safety in case he swallowed his tongue? But thought best not in case Kyle woke to find you walking across the landing back to your room. Turning the light off, you bent down to pick the glass up from underneath his bed.

“I'm going, night John…sweet dreams” you smiled up at him as you found the glass, but something was underneath it, something silky. You pulled it out along with the glass.

Once from under the bed you knew exactly what it was, it was a pair of black silk knickers. You felt as though a hole had been punched through your gut and hollowed out. You looked down at them the bile rising in your chest. “you and Kyle are the first real guests I had since getting the place liveable” the words taunting in your head. “Well, I haven’t been totally alone…remember that Doc from Ireland? She’s been up to see the house it wasn’t finished not even watertight, but she came for a visit,”

 Had he lied to you? Yeh, he had lied to you. You could feel yourself getting angry, but you didn’t really have a right to be jealous of him…sleeping with another woman…he wasn't yours…he was just your Captain wasn't he? But it was more that he had lied and also it was probably with that stupid bitch doctor. That thought stung like a thorn in your side. You felt like a silly little girl. Is that how he saw you? Call you friend but keep you closer…keep you on a short leash, close to him, his little toy Tank?

 You put them back where you had found them, and placed the glass on the side and made your way to the door.

 “Night, love, sweet dreams”

 “Night John”

#captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #captain price #cod mw #modern warfare #call of duty #john price #captain john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 smut #john price x oc #captain john price x you #john price x you #mw2 price #john price smut #cod smut #john price x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty smut #daddy price #captain price x reader #captain price smut #fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x you #Price x Tank #captian price

[watermelonsugacry]

bestieee ngl ever since i read the rolling stone article and h said he cried after the 1d wembley show in 2014 all i could think about was yn comforting him afterwards ☹️🫶🏻

Noooo because after the band gives the crowd their final wave goodbye and they all head backstage, the crew members, management, and the rest of their team are just clapping and cheering them on. After coming on stage, her and boys are on a high, the adrenaline racing throughout their entire bodies that they all jump and yell along with everyone else in celebration.

Louis is the one to pull and gather the band together in a group hug huddle. They could honestly care less about how smelly or sticky with sweat they are from performing, it was a moment that they all needed to reel in and enjoy. They just performed to a sold-out stadium full of thousands of people!

After all the commotion, the band gets led down the halls to their designated dressing rooms. So after some quick showers and drives back to their hotel rooms, YN can't help but notice how quiet Harry has been after getting backstage.

A perk of being the only girl in the is the fact that whatever hotel they were staying at, most of the time YN was able to get her own private suite while the boys shared one or two amongst themselves.

So while the band makes their way down the hotel hallways, chatting and laughing away at all the stuff that happened during the show, YN goes to ask what was Harry's favorite part of the show when she sees that his fingers pinch at his eyes. When he blinks them open, she can see how pink his nose is and his eyes glossy.

"So do you guys wanna head over to Louis and Zayn's room? Carry on the party in there?" Liam suggests and everyone but YN and Harry excitedly agrees.

"M'actually pretty beat." YN shifts the duffle bag strap on her shoulder. "M'old lady, can't stay awake for a minute longer. Y'lads have fun."

"Harry? Y'coming?" Zayn nods over to the room once he's scanned his key card.

"Think m'gonna go to sleep too." Harry fakes a yawn to make it seem like his water eyes weren't from his sentimental tears.

"Okay, grampa." Niall teases, "Just don't come knocking on the door when we got the music on too loud. Wembly!" The Irish lad raised his fists in the air and the rest of the boys join in with his chanting as they make their way into the room. Once they hear the door click shut, Harry awkwardly shuffles his worn-out Chelsea boot against the patterned carpet.

"Um, good night, YN."

"Night, H."

Right as he goes to take out his key card from his pocket, she doesn't think twice about blurting out, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are yeh hungry?"

So that's how the two find themselves in YN's hotel kitchenette, making breakfast at 1 o'clock in the morning. To be fair, it's been mostly Harry cooking since YN can all but know how to make toast and coffee. YN was thinking made just chatting over a bowl of cereal but he's gone the whole nine yards: eggs, pancakes and even a bit of hashbrown he's managed to whip up.

After pushing her finished plate onto the coffee table, YN leans back on the living room couch with a hand over her tummy. "That was so fookin' good. Those pancakes were amazing."

"M'sure they were since you drowned them in syrup." Harry teases over a sip of his coffee mug.

"Are you syrup-shaming meh?"

"Just making an observation." He shrugs with a soft smile, fingers pushing some of his outgrown hair behind his ear after putting his mug on the table.

"Y'hair s'getting long." YN thinks out loud, eyes flickering around his curly locks.

"Judging my choice of length?" Harry turns sideways to face her, an arm coming up to rest on the back of the couch so he can lean his temple against his hand. His insides get all gooey at the sight of her. How can he function properly when her head rests back on the couch, her neck fully on display like it's begging him to plant his lips on the surface. Or the way her eyes hold something in them he can't quite place his finger on. Or the way her lips tug up into the smile that never fails to take his breath away.

She pushes a shoulder to her ear, "Just making an observation."

A beat goes by of them just fondly staring at one another before her ringtone goes off to let her know she received a new text message. Shifting and reaching around her back pocket, she notices how the butterflies in her tummy make their landing when she reads the name on the screen.

Matthew: Hey hun, I know you're probably knocked out for the night so good morning when you read this <3 give me a ring when you're up and tell me all about the show! I love you.

With a sigh, YN locks her screen and pushes it onto the table next to her plate. She rakes a hand through her hair before settling back into the couch, wishing to go back to the feeling she felt before being reminded of her boyfriend. Matthew is a great guy, he's honest and loyal and caring...and not who she truly wants to be with.

"Y'alright, YN?"

"Y'know what I realized?" YN questions, impulsively finding the strength to confess something she's been holding onto since she was 16. But all the courage diminishes the second she meets his eyes and if she wasn't already sitting down, her knees might have given out.

"Hmm?" Harry encourages.

"That...you don't call me lovie as much anymore." She says instead and thanks God she did because now the heat is taken off of her and placed on top of his heated and dimpled cheeks. "What's up with that? Lately, it's been Morning, YN. See yeh on stage, YN. Y'alright, YN?" She deepens her voice to try to make his accent and a giggle erupts from his chest.

"Thought you didn't like it anymore." Harry lies through his teeth.

"And why in the bloody hell would yeh think that?"

The real reason? He stopped calling her that once she was officially with Matthew, it just didn't feel right having her so close yet so far from his reach. In all honesty, it hurt him more than it hurt her when he stopped calling her his nickname.

"Dunno." Harry lets out a huffed laugh through his nose.

"Well I do like it. I miss it actually." YN distracts herself by picking at the frilly bits on the decorative pillows.

"Okay," She feels his finger go under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Lovie."

In true YN fashion, she rolls her eyes with a scoff as she pushes her hand away both for hating the lovey dovey shit and not letting herself succumb her his lovey dovey actions. Harry chuckles at her antics and goes back to rest his temple on his fist. There's a tiny part of his ego that likes the fact that he can make her nervous, flustered at little bits of affection.

"Anyways," YN remembers her initial reason for inviting him over. "That was some show, huh?"

"Insane." Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "Y'know, if or when all of us decide to go our separate ways and do solo stuff, and I never perform to that big of a crowd again, m'perfectly okay with that."

"I was thinking the same thing. Was a bit overwhelming wasn't it? Just everything all at once. The fans, the music, the excitement of it all. Being with you and the boys on stage doing what we all love. It's a pretty amazing feelin' innit?"

She sees Harry nod along to her words, chuckling a bit when he has to sniffle his nose as his eyes get watery again. He even looks away from her direction, too embarrassed from being sentimental.

"S'okay to cry, H. S'just me." And that seemed to be the last branch holding the damn together because Harry leans forward, his elbows on her knees with his hands covering his face. His shoulders twitch as he cries and it has YN scooting over to his side in an instant.

As much as she's slowly inching her way to being more comfortable with physical affection, her anxiety about it all lessens when it's with Harry. She wraps an arm around his back and rests her cheek against his shoulder in comfort, making him feel safe to release the sob that he was holding back.

They like this for what seems like forever, YN rubbing his back gently and even blinking back a few tears of her own. After a couple of minutes, he straightens up a bit and takes in a much needed deep breath.

When he turns his head to face hers, they're so close that one easy movement can bump their noses together. She almost jumps out of her skin when she feels his thumb comes up to wipe a rouge tear from her cheek.

"Feel better?" YN whispers between them. The feel of her breath on his lips mixed with his heightened emotions has him holding himself back from leaning in the rest of the way. He wonders if her lips still tasted like syrup.

Not trusting his own voice, he just gives her a small nod. With a word, he rests his head on her shoulder. He closes his eyes and lets out a hum when he feels her finger softly rub against his scalp. It doesn't take long before his breathing evens out and they maneuver their position so his head lays across her lap.

It takes a while before YN falls asleep. She looks down at the man, her band mate, her best friend in her lap and wonders what the hell she's gotten herself into.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love-armin @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #famous!yn #famous!reader #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles masterlist #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept

[riddles-n-games]

Awkward Teenage Years

I'm sure everyone went through or is going through their teenage years and puberty is not the kindest to everyone. Now, I know everyone in this fandom seems to think the Hawthorne brothers are these sculpture-perfect, flawless, handsome young lads and I'm sure they are. However, everyone also seems to forget when we first meet them, three of them were still teenagers. Yes, towards the end of their adolescence but not that long before they were still in the middle of the awkward phase. So, in honor of those awkward teenage years, here's what was going on with the Hawthorne brothers when they were handling those first few years of hormone imbalance:

Nash: His hair tended to get very greasy back then and so he also used his love of wearing cowboy hats as an excuse to hide his hair. Of course, he had to be sneaky so the teachers didn't tell him off for wearing hats in class. Not to mention, he also had a phase where he had a bad cowlick he just couldn't get rid of.

Grayson: At fourteen, Gray had braces because he had an overbite and he had to wear them till he was fifteen and a half. He rarely liked smiling with his teeth during that time, seeming standoffish to other kids for it and poor guy often accidentally bit the inside of his cheek. His chocolate obsession suffered for a while.

Jameson: This one had a long battle with acne. He often had it sprinkled over his face and even at one point it got so severe that it was also a bad case of "bacne" (back acne). Poor Jamie was miserable so much so that he literally cried (in secret, of course; a Hawthorne don't cry or that's what they tell themselves) and there was a period of time where he couldn't bare to look at himself in the mirror. Thankfully, it started getting better after he was prescribed his third medication (I know, took a while). Now he has the best skincare routine ever and it's not just water.

Xander: As a child, he was smol. He was among the shorter kids and Thea and Rebecca were taller than him by a head, head and a half by fifth grade. At twelve, the turn tables in his favor as he shot up to heights unknown, touching the sky, and breathed the fresher air for the first time as he saw over his classmates with no problem. However, he was all gangly limbs like a newborn foal walking for the first time as Nash often said as he got used to his baby brother towering over him at fourteen. Jameson was slightly jealous because his own growth spurt made him the taller one for a time and he was rubbing it in Gray's face (bragging rights were redacted).

#nash westbrook hawthorne #nash hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander blackwood hawthorne #xander hawthorne #hawthorne brothers #yes even they had awkward teen years #you're welcome #now i hope you feel better about your teen years #hawthorne shenanigans #hawthorne headcanons #tig headcanons #the inheritance games #tig

[applesjuice]

Where Falling Stars Live

Just a little something for the Legends Arceus AU! The first one to meet Akari was Laventon, before they even were Akari.

When a child fell from the sky Hopkin wasn’t certain he was entirely awake. The last few days, months really, had been much too long, and it wasn’t right of him to constantly be relying on Rei to do more than he already was. So when three of his specimens ran off when he unlocked the lab, he hadn’t the heart to bother the poor lad to go fetch them. He was meant for science, not running, yet he managed to corner them all on the beach. And then a child fell onto the sand. Straight out of nowhere.

They laid stilly, not moving, and Hopkin worried some drifblim got into the village the evening before. He cried out in shock as the three menaces crawled over the corpse, but the sight of it seemed almost unreal, like a dream he'd cooked up under a Yawn. And then all of a sudden it stared to breathe and he came to his senses.

“It’s not dead? You’re not dead!” he cried in relief. “Oh wake up, wake up! Do wake up, wouldn’t you?” Slowly, eyes the color of his favorite butterscotch schnapps blinked up at him. He frowned at the two different sizes of pupils and how he, she? He wasn’t terribly sure really, children weren’t exactly what he’d gotten accredited for. They all looked somewhat similar before they reached puberty anyway. But this child struggled to sit up, and was much too unsteady once on their feet. 

It was a perfectly normal child, small, too thin and missing a shoe, with hair that was dark and a mess. Half of it was up like a thwackey, and purple. The rest was falling out of a hair tie. Poor thing. Definitely looked like one would expect if they dropped out of the sky. 

They blinked up at him, eyes heavy, then looked around. Then stared at his specimens as though in a daze. 

Hopkin tried to seem reassuring, and like his head was not spinning with fright. “You gave me quite the shock, falling from the sky like that… Thank goodness you’re alright!” he cried. 

The child’s eyes rose from the pokemon to meet his. “W-Who are you?” they whispered. An accent, less drawn out than the clans’ pronunciation, but still off from how the settlers here spoke. 

Hopkin considered them. Definitely not from Jubilife then. “I’d like to ask you the same! I mean, you fell out of the sky, you understand. Come now– who does that?”

Slowly they curled into themself unsurely, trying to hide behind the hair in their face. “Me I guess?” they said almost wondering. 

Yes, well, they weren’t wrong… Hopkin studied them closer; a few bruises here and there, some cuts along their cheeks, like gravel was flung at their face. The fragments caught in there shimmered. An odd sleeveless blouse over breeches, practical yet lose the way the young girls in the villages fancied. So maybe a lass? But then again Rei’s hair was that length until only recently, when he singed off a good chunk leaning too close to a ponyta. He’d been upset, but more at the loss of his drawing. It had taken about fourteen hours of sitting in one spot in the Fieldlands to get the anatomy down pat. 

Hopkin just didn’t know anymore. He’d been spending so much time holed up in his study he could hardly remember how to be a functioning person. This one didn’t look foreign, not in the way he did at least, but a lot of things about them was off. If only children had more distinguishing features, like inverted sclerae or differentiating ear lengths. “Your clothing is unusual. You wouldn’t happen to have an acquaintance in these parts? Or some family?” he asked.

“I don’t know…” They shook their head wearing a big, confused frown.

Oh dear. Hopkin grew more concerned. “I see. You seem to be in a bit of a pickle. Might I be able to help in some way? Offer some directions? Do you have somewhere around here to stay? You’re much too young to be out and about on your own like this, it’s dangerous.”

“I don’t know…”

Oh dear, oh dear. “So you don’t know anyone here, and you don’t even know where to spend the night? Goodness me.” Their little face was growing afraid. “Well, this is a proper pickle indeed.” 

They looked to the side, frustrated tears coming into their eyes. “I dunno what to do.” They sniffled. 

“I see,” Hopkin said, pretending to think hard on it. “Well, no gentleman would abandon such a person in need!” The three menaces chimed in their agreement. The child looked at them with that dewey look kids got when they wanted a hug. Especially from something so deceptively cute. Terrors, absolute terrors they were, but nobody seemed to believe him. 

The three menaces! The whole reason why even left his lab in the first place. “Oh my, I’d completely forgotten! I had just caught up with these three runaways when you tumbled out of the sky. Almost as if they knew you’d appear here!”

Hopkin wouldn’t give them that much credit, but it was odd that they came here specifically. Though odder things did happen in these parts. As odd as the howls that came from the Weald when a mist settled in on cold nights. But he knew it best that some questions remained unanswered. A thought came to him. “Ah, I have to ask. Do you even know what a Pokemon is?” 

“Of course!” they said all indignant. 

Hopkin laughed, and felt his unease grow somewhat lighter. “My, that’s a relief then! Though you fell from the sky, it seems we have some common ground, eh? These three belong to me, mysterious creatures that they are.”

The three in question scoffed, but immediately went back to pretending they were cute and deserving of treats. But Hopkin would not fall for it, not again. He gave them a look, a stern one, that they promptly ignored. 

And then he realized his manners had slipped him. “My name! Oh, I apologize! I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m Laventon, something of a Pokemon Professor. That is to say, I’m a scholar seeking to deepen our understanding of Pokemon. Pokemon such as these three here–”

The three in questen proceeded to run off again.

“Blast and bother, not again! Why must you keep running from me!?” He had to stop himself saying something inappropriate for young ears. “I’m terribly sorry, but do you think you could help me round them up… and I haven’t even asked your name yet. Here I am making requests.”

“No, let me help you!” the child said quickly, and went stumbling forward. It was more of a jog than a run, and Hopkin himself wasn’t much faster. From the way that they ran, they were definitely off balance, and unsurprisingly, they took quite the tumble. 

“Careful now!” Hopkin said and helped them to stand. A hand mirror of some sort was now in their hands, their knee bleeding from where it knocked against its hard surface. Oddly enough the mirror was beeping. They stared into it, wondering at their reflection. Maybe it fell out of their pocket? It was a decorative thing, with what looked to be antlers carved onto the housing. 

A rustling came from the susuki thicket, and the rowlet poked out its head.

“Kroo!” it cried out, flapping its wings, and he felt for a pokeball within his pocket. He should have captured them as soon as he got his hands on these contraptions, but they were generally so mild and enjoyed his climate controlled lab.

“Come here! Be a good lad,” he called out to it. It ignored him, trotting further into the thicket. Clumsily he tossed one of the balls. Keeping wasn’t ever his strong suit, nor was cricket in general. Or any sport, really. Predictably it went to the left. As did the next one he tried.

Cyndaquil scurried under his legs, the flames on her back lit. He shooed her off before she could crawl up his pant leg, patting the embers that caught on the edge of his coat. Hopkin tried to catch her as well, and this attempt was even worse than his last.

The child came over then, paler and suspiciously red-eyed. 

“Aha!” Hopkin cried. “You’ve come to my rescue, my new friend from the sky. I tried catching my little runaways, but I’m not the best at this sort of thing you see…”

And see they must have, as they broke into giggles. That was a good thing. Laughter always did children well, and this one seemed anything but. He didn’t mind being silly or making himself into a fool, it made the pokemon less likely to bite him, and seemed to soothe something hurt within this young boy. Girl. Prepubescent creature. Hopkin needed a nap. Sorely he hoped this wasn’t a ditto.

He spoke of the pokemon fondly, explained their physiology as simply as he would when lecturing a Galaxy Team member. His audience here was substantially more pleasant, reduced now to just the occasionally sniffle. But their interest was earnest, and not once did the attention on him wander. Hopkin began rambling in glee. He couldn’t help but to go on a tangent. Wax on about their power to shrink, how they could find the inside of a hollowed out apricorn comforting. A perfect, portable closed system where the energy the pokemon exerted conducted itself through a solid rich in native minerals. The tumblestone, a rock, a plain simple rock, combined with the Pokemon’s own ability to perform of a reversible process! The blackbody nature of the skin of a fruit.

He was over explaining, over complicating things as he tended to do, but here was someone who drank in every one of his words with fascination, staring at him as though this was already well known.

Hopkin fell a little in love then, the same way he did when Rei shyly sketched him a zubat in the dirt with a stick, not yet wholly aware that forever was forever when the pyre burned his parents remains.

“Would you mind trying to catch them? I know we just met, but I’m afraid I’ve no one else to turn to. I’d be awfully grateful.”

The child before him shifted from one foot baring only a sock to the other, and did not immediately agree. They asked him softly, “What if they don’t want to be caught and I’m just being selfish? I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t mean to hurt anyone…” They stopped, their eyes glazed by confusion, seeming to try and guess where those words came from.

It was alarming, and Hopkin found himself stunned. This was a child. A child, and something within them that they seemingly could not put a voice to was terrified and that in turn terrified him too. It was so heartbreakingly unsure and human, to watch someone so young slowly fall apart before him. 

“This doesn’t hurt them,” Hopkin said fairly.

“It might.” Their voice was shrinking, their vibrancy whittling away as they said “I don’t know why, but it might. It will. I’ll hurt them.”

Hopkin leaned down at that to be on their level, and guided the child to look at him, and they did so in a complete haze of confusion. “You never told me your name, you know. I’m terribly sorry that I’m only just now asking for it.”

“I don’t know it,” the child said very softly, as if admitting it aloud spoke the admission into existence. 

Hopkin stared at them, troubled. This wasn’t normal. Not an ounce of this made sense, and he didn’t like it one bit. The child’s thoughts seemed to grow inward, trying to find one single memory, or any at all. “Well, how about something you’d like to be called. Let’s start with that, shall we?”

“K-Kiki?”

“Wonderful! That must be short for something, but sometimes the hows and whys of things slip by us. Especially when you get to my age. I can’t say I understand your situation Kiki, but what I can understand is that you are very afraid. And sometimes to get past that fear we need to take a first step and do something uncomfortable, something that may make us frightened. That’s why I think you should be the one to try catching these three. If they don’t want to be caught, they won’t let themselves be, but whether or not you try doing so doesn’t mean you are forcing your will onto theirs. The relationship between humans and pokemon is tumultuous as best, and the act of ‘catching’ them is still rather new, but I firmly believe this here device, this pokeball, is an olive branch. And sometimes we, as people, are desperate for friends.”

Kiki looked completely dumfounded and slowly tears ran down their face. Hopkin stood up, cracking his back and the weight of his gut jiggled. He stepped back, and handed Kiki three balls to try with. The weight of their touch as they traced a small finger over the fruit was fragile. “Do you think they’d want to be friends with me?”

“Who knows,” Hopkin said very softly. Honestly, he himself wasn’t sure if either of them even liked him, and he’d been raising them since before he even got on the boat to Hisui from Johto. “But there are numerous pokemon in this world, so logically at least some of them must want to.”

“Alright then,” Kiki mumbled, a spark of some fire now lit deep within them. “I’ll give it a try.”

“There’s the spirit! Now, the proper technique is to take aim at the Pokemon and let the ball fly– really, it’s quite simple! Though far be it from me to say so, I supposed, given my own dire lack of skill in this area.”

Kiki nodded. 

They caught all three of the pokemon one after the other, quick to aim and quicker to throw accurately enough to get each of them by surprise. They had already caught Oshawott before Hopkin realized this was something this child had experience in doing. Which was impossible considering the invention was only patented within the last year. As he thought further on it, Hopkin took a deep breath, and decided he didn’t quite care. Even before Kiki looked back at him, smiling and holding up three pokeballs that were putting out fireworks, he felt this child was here for a reason. He just wasn’t sure what that was yet.

#kieran #legends arceus au #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon sv #I made Laventon's given name Hopkin because if you've seen the theory about who Leon's ancestor was you'll get it #writing stuff #when you have so much guilt and trauma from trying to forcibly catch a legendary while at your lowest point #akari is kieran #unbetad #don't be surprised if i make the occasional edit for typos or grammer i spot