#ill open it again once i cleared my inbox

[beautifulhigh]

It just occurred to me that the polo scene doesn't get much love as it should. I know it's very short but just the thirst in Alex’s eyes, the way you can see his mouth dry while watching Henry ride that horse and his oh so sexy smile. I feel like that scene required a major dissection, and no one does it better so I came calling.

You know what? I'm doing this one now. I know I said I would do a meta on Henry Fox and I would do a meta on the New Year's Eve party but this is in my inbox now and yeah, let's talk about the polo scene.

(I'm also doing this now so I don't have another thing on my To Do pile, and your kind words made my shitty day a little better so thank you.)

Short scene, not a short meta.

In the book when he and Henry are in his bedroom, Alex has this little moment of clouds parting, sun beaming, angels chorus revelation:

In an instant of sudden, vivid clarity, he can’t believe he ever thought he was straight.

And while movie!Alex doesn't have the same bi awakening that book!Alex does. this is very much his moment of "oh I am very not straight at all" and that is valid of him.

(As this is a Jen meta, we shall also be talking about everything else because you do not analyse a text in isolation.)

This interview talks about the editing of the polo match:

Nick [Moore], my new editor coming in, took a look and he says, “I wanna try something with that polo match.” He spent a weekend of his own time doing something, and then he was ready to show me. He sat me down and said, “I’ve done something crazy.”

And we went from filmed scripted scenes and a lead in, to "bagpipes intensify" and it works SO well for where these boys are in this new stage of their relationship.

Our establishing shots are of the teams, the horses, the uniforms. This is Henry's world and Alex is about to step into it (which is a reversal of Henry at the NYE party - I swear I will write that meta once I have all the gif posts I want to link to) and it's all quick cuts and sharp transitions and moving shots. The pace has been set for Alex to enter.

We pick him out in the crowd but he's lost as quickly as we spot him. He's one of many here and it's all too quick to stay with him.

Firstly, you will never convince me that he didn't pick the tightest trousers he could find. Henry's comment about him being a mouthful is foreshadowed, right there.

ANYWAY

He walks in, he's looking around, he's doing up his jacket as a form of protection. Alex is the proverbial fish out of the proverbial water (and I have a meta about water if you're interested) and we're straight back in with the quick edits. Horses, polo sticks, this is not a game most people know how to play. Alex certainly doesn't. He's doing up his jacket and he is uncomfortable.

He is not a stranger to a suit, and that is certainly not something that is ill fitting. It is circumstance, not clothing.

And then we get our first clear shot of Henry. Only it's not clear, not at first. He literally comes into focus.

Stick aloft, mouth open, like he's a walking riding metaphor.

And Alex's face changes.

Yeah. He is definitely not straight.

From then on we stay with Henry. We, in Alex's viewpoint, have found him. And so we track Henry through the game and it's just generic horse legs if we're looking at anything else. The only player we/Alex see is Henry.

Here, Henry is leading. Going in first, checking it's clear, knowing Alex will follow him. Henry leads, Alex follows. Into the garden, into the bed, into the sexual component of their relationship. Alex admits to Henry right from the start that this is new to him:

“I’ve, uh,” Alex begins. “I’ve never actually done this before.” “Alex,” Henry says, reaching down to stroke at Alex’s hair, “you don’t have to, I’m—” “No, I want to,” Alex says, tugging at Henry’s waistband. “I just need you to tell me if it’s awful.” Henry is speechless again, looking as if he can’t believe his fucking luck. “Okay. Of course.”

When it comes to being with a man? Henry leads, Alex follows.

And then the pacing and editing kicks off. We intercut to the tempo of the bagpipes between the match and the hook up and Henry is leading the charge on both.

He's in charge and Alex is LOVING it:

Turns out being on the receiving end of Henry’s royal authority is an extreme fucking turn-on.

This is risky and the most dangerous thing they have done so far. Amy walking in on them in the Red Room is one thing - book!Alex is VERY thankful for the staff NDAs when it comes to what they know about him and Henry - but neither of them care here. And Alex is very much letting Henry take the lead and set the pace.

Which, given how long Henry has wanted Alex, wanted this, and how he's not able to live and love (at this point) as openly as Alex is, giving Henry this control means that not only can Alex continue his education in this mlm era of his life, but he's giving Henry all of the freedom he can. God Bless America or something.

We intercut the make out scene with shots of things being hit, the hard slamming of one thing against another, of riders in saddles. The hands may be a metaphor for sex in the Paris scene but we have it here as well.

Alex is fully on board by this point and he's not letting Henry set the full agenda. In his White House bedroom we got the scene of Henry going down on Alex (and there is no way that it was a one-way exchange given how long they were there) so now? It's his turn.

My favourite editing choice?

We then cut to Henry's arse bouncing in that saddle. If the Paris scene is making love? This is them fucking. Henry is bouncing away, riding for all he's worth, chasing down his singular aim with precision and determination.

It's innuendo at its finest.

I love this shot. We're looking up at them - we're just like Alex who is now looking up at Henry due to his new vantage point (#NoLongerTaller) - and we see Alex is fully crowding up into Henry's space. And they are right by the door. There is no cover, no escape. Anyone coming in has fully caught them. Please let there be a PPO or a Secret Service be just outside. Please. For their sanity if not mine.

But even if there isn't for some insane reason, they don't care. They are so lost in each other, so caught up in this moment, that they aren't FSOTUS and the Prince Of Wales. They aren't boys with status and expectations. They're just two consenting adults who are testing the boundaries of what public indecency actually means.

They are really going for it now. Henry's arm is tensed with the effort of keeping Alex close, his hand is splayed on Henry's back to give him contact with more of him. They are not letting go. Diving all in like it's a nod to the Olympic event where they met in the book.

And when they come up for air it's because Alex is... well... about to go diving.

Those fingers make VERY quick work of the belt and what he is doing with his hands and those fingers is further evidence in the "this is them fucking" category.

And then the frame which I'm guessing inspired Cordelia's ask to me:

LOOK AT THAT FACE. Look at those fucking eyelashes. But Alex is wanting and he is wanting hard for Henry. Pun intended. He's got a plan for this, he's got a To Do list for those Very Bad Things he promised/threatened Henry with all those weeks ago.

And it will have been weeks. The State Dinner was around February time based on the texts (end of January at the latest) and then Henry says the polo match is "next month" (which would put it end of February, early March because we would not say 'next month' if it were next week, regardless of when the month starts) and so it's been weeks since they hooked up in Alex's room. Weeks of having to just text and email and maybe venture into video calls.

None of that would compare to being together.

This is the first time that Alex has gotten his hands on Henry since his bedroom and he's desperate to get more than his hands on him.

And this shot as Alex pulls Henry's trousers down is fucking pornographic. Matthew López, did you direct Nick to act like this or was it his choice? Go watch his expression as Alex is pulling the offending clothing out of the way and tell me that this isn't pornographic.

And then we cut to the not-at-all subtle shot of Henry well, making the shot. With ease and power and the ball shooting out of frame. Something something orgasm metaphor something release.

There's even a little wisp as he makes the shot. If this post isn't flagged for mature content I'll be surprised.

Next shot?

Congrats on not getting caught, on the sex, on the most smut-filled-while-almost-fully-clothed-sex scene I've ever had the joy of frame-by-framing through.

Alex is doing up his tie again but he's not uncomfortable. And Henry is so fucking happy I could cry. Because he just hooked up with this guy, in semi-public, and got away with it. They are firmly in Henry's world here, a world where he can't be out and proud, and he got to have something he wanted. And, maybe crucially, no one knows about it. His privacy is intact.

But more importantly, this thing he's got with Alex is something. It's not a one night stand. Alex came here specifically for him, because he asked him to. Because Alex wanted to see him, be with him. This wasn't an obligation, this wasn't something set up by anyone for show and to do damage control. This was for them, and them alone.

Look at these smug bastards. Look at them. Gettin' their rocks off and making puns about being hungry and eating like they didn't just devour each other.

BUT

I gotta bring the feels here 'cause it's me.

Henry attended the State dinner because he was expected to, because that was in place before the New Year's kiss. It was an obligation and in both the movie and the book he had been ghosting Alex. And then Alex grabbed him in the Red Room and they hooked up and at the end of that scene Henry nervously asks Alex if he wants to be his guest at the polo event. Alex doesn't actually say yes - he says he doesn't know how to play polo, there's a comment about it being safer if he's on the sidelines - but leaving aside any fear that he would stand Henry up this is the first time they have made plans with the intention of seeing each other, of being together in this way.

This is, for want of a better term, kinda like a date.

Alex turned up, Henry put out, and they're very much committing to seeing where this path will take them. (Forever. It'll take them to forever.)

Alex isn't straight, Henry is very much in love, and they're embracing that giddy phase of a relationship where you just can't keep your hands off each other. And we fade from this to Paris where they're on another kind of date and then there's another kind of sex scene and it's a speedrun of their relationship on screen like they weren't indulging in foreplay with all the text flirting.

Which, by the way, don't think I didn't notice that Henry's jersey number was 4. Four-play indeed.

(Thanks for this, Cordelia, I needed something like this to soothe my brain.)

#jen answers stuff #i-cordelia #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #prince henry of wales #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince meta #overthinking jen is overthinking #rwrb #otp: history huh #long post

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

covey’s 350 follower event 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

yall wtf is that number up there?? are you kidding me rn?? i’m so beyond grateful and wanted to show that in a few ways. first, and probs the most anticipated, requests will be back open!! second, you guessed it, im doing an event!! (highly influenced, and by that i mean stolen, from @ssparksflyy and @atokirina333 ) once again, thank you so much guys 🫶😖

LOVE LETTERS—

super small blurbs with any characters (platonic or romantic)

POSTCARDS—

ill pick a noah kahan song and lyric that i think best fits you

STAMPS—

i’ll make you a moodboard based off your vibe or what i think your cabin is or if you wanna give me a theme

PACKAGES—

i’ll give you a pinterest outfit based on your vibe or theme

MAILBAG—

let’s talk hcs!! send me yours and i’ll send you mine

RULES—

pls, only one ask per request

up to three separate asks in one day, as to not completely flood my inbox

make it clear that the ask is for the event and not a request please and thank you

event will be over on the 24th of march BUT inbox should stay open unless it gets overflowed again

some kindness and patience is always appreciated

anyways, just one last HUGE thank you. this wasn’t something i could imagine in my wildest dreams and im so beyond grateful !! actually doesn’t feel real at all and like it’s someone else’s life and i feel so undeserving but it’s cool !!

okay yall,

covey out !!

moots/favs-

@ssparksflyy @stargirl-exe @percys-princess @percabething @alexwritingspot @jjmaybank-wife @lennoxmyles @freaking0ut @shimas-things12 @jasongracesgfcabin3 @marvelscookie @drwns @literallythenerdemoji @eliseisclinicallyinsane @imasimpdealwithit @vodkori @leoswift23 @torrancefavgirl @teamredlvr

#covey’s 350 follower event 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ #postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace

[goldenempyrean]

Interstellar Sniffles: Pt 2

〚 Notes - Hey so I got pt2 done! Hopefully you enjoy :D My requests are back open too now since I cleared my inbox :D This hasnt been edited well so excuse the mistakes :) 〛

〚 Pairing - WandaNat x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - It seems that Wanda's next in line to catch the Asgardian illness, now you’ve got two sick girlfriends on your hands. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1590 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

〘 Part 1 〙

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That sleep, however, was short-lived when you were suddenly jolted awake by the sound of Wanda's loud coughing. You sat up quickly and turned on the bedside lamp, revealing a pale and sweating Wanda, cuddled up with her knees tucked up to her chest 

Wanda's eyes were brimming with tears as she weakly shook her head. "I'm not well," she whimpered before trying her hardest to muffle another set of coughs within the blanket. She hated the fact that she had disturbed you and was still determined to avoid the still-sleeping Nat up too. 

You couldn't help but feel a pang of worry in your chest at the sight of Wanda's condition. You immediately got out of bed and fetched a glass of water for her, holding it up to her lips as she took small sips. Once she’d finishing coughing you scooted closer to her, placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature. It was definitely higher than normal. Shit. 

As you touched Wanda's forehead, you noticed that her nose was starting to get more congested, and she began to sniffle more frequently. You grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her nose and blew it weakly. 

Wanda's eyes were starting to water more heavily, and her voice was becoming raspier as she spoke. "I really don't feel good," she whispered hoarsely. "It hurts to breathe, and my head is pounding." She let out another weak cough, and you could practically hear the phlegm rattling in her chest. 

You rubbed her back gently, trying to offer as much comfort as you could. "I know, baby," you said softly. "Just rest for now, and I’ll take care of you both." 

Wanda nodded weakly, her eyes starting to droop as she leaned into your touch. She was clearly exhausted, but you could see that she was also struggling to breathe through her nose. You grabbed another tissue and handed it to her, watching as she blew her nose again and wiped away the tears from her eyes. 

You could tell that Wanda was feeling miserable, and your heart ached for her. You wanted to make her feel better, but you knew that all you could do was support her and wait for the illness to run its course. As she continued to cough and sniffle, you pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close and offering words of comfort. 

"You’re okay princess," you whispered. "I'll take care of you and make sure you get better." You could feel her body shaking with each cough, and you held her tighter, wishing that you could take her pain away. But for now, all you could do was be there for her, letting the sniffling witch rest her head against you. 

Unsurprisingly, with all the noise, it didn’t take Natasha long to stir out her sleep. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room with confusion. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep. 

"Wanda's not feeling well either," you explained softly, still holding onto Wanda in a tight embrace before patting your chest, a sign for Nat to rest against you too but first she reached over to the two medicine bottles sitting on the nightstand at her side of the bed and handed them to her. 

"Take this," Nat said gently while reaching over to take some tissues for herself, "It'll help with the coughing and the congestion." 

Wanda nodded weakly, and you took the bottle, measuring out the recommended dose before handing it to her. She swallowed it down with a grimace, wincing at the bitter taste. 

"It's nasty, I know," You sighed sympathetically. "But it'll make you feel better." 

As you watched Wanda take the last of the medicine, you noticed Nat's nose twitching slightly. You knew that look all too well. 

“Heh- He’hhtshoo!” 

Barely a moment later, Wanda's face scrunched up too, and she let out a soft "HHih'ishu!” 

“Goodness, bless you both.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at the tired, yet amused looks that they both had. It was a cute sight, even if they were both feeling miserable. 

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and Wanda finally off to sleep once more. It wasn’t as easy for Nat however, instead she cuddled up to you. You stayed in bed with them, quietly reading the pages of your book to the redhead was still resting on your shoulder whilst she sniffled continuously.  

A few hours passed and you wish you could’ve stayed like that for as long as possible, but Wanda tossed over in her sleep and her head came to rest against you. Judging by the feeling her feverish forehead against your cheek, it was obvious her temperature had only worsened, and you knew it was time to do something. 

You carefully extracted yourself from the bed and went to fetch a thermometer from the bathroom. When you returned, you took Wanda's temperature and were dismayed to see that it had risen even higher. It took you a moment to decide what to do but when you saw Wanda’s small stuffed bear hanging off the edge of the bed, you had an idea. 

Carefully taking the bear, you crept downstairs towards the kitchen where you placed the animal inside the freezer. Luckily nowhere was here to question this and you waited for a few minutes, long enough for the cold to cling to the bear. 

By the time you’d returned with the icy cold bear, Wanda was tossing and turning uncomfortably now as she slowly woke up. 

“Here baby, cuddle this for a while,” You whispered softly, moving her sweaty brunette hair out of her face before pressing the frozen bear to her chest, “It should help bring that temperature of yours down a little.” 

She weakly clutched the bear and snuggled into the blankets, feeling both hot and cold at the same time. Her head was pounding, and her throat felt like it had been attacked by an angry mound of sandpaper. 

You sat next to her on the bed, stroking her hair gently. “How are you feeling love?” you asked, concern etched on your face. 

“I’m okay,” she rasped out, her poor voice barely audible. 

You could tell she was trying to be brave, but her flushed face and the way she trembled gave her away. You reached out and placed a hand on her forehead, checking her temperature once again before gently checking Nat’s. They were both way too hot. 

“I'm gonna go get you some water baby, then get both of you some more medicine. You cuddle up with Natty for now, okay?”  

You slipped out of the room quietly again, not wanting to disturb Natasha who was finally sleeping. As you walked down the hall, you felt your own worry start to bubble up inside you. This wasn't the first time you’d seen Wanda sick, but it still didn't get any easier to see her like this, and especially when your girls were usually so strong - seeing them so vulnerable and soft made your heart ache. 

In the kitchen, you boiled a kettle to make two cups of tea, one lemon, one ginger, both with extra added honey - just to soothe their throats. You made sure to grab some extra bottles of water too before making your way back up. 

When you returned back to the bed, Wanda was still snuggled up with the bear, Nat stirried briefly beside her. She whined softly but settled back down quickly, snuggling closer to Wanda before falling back asleep, too tired to keep herself awake. 

Running your hand through the redhead’s messy hair, you softly instructed Wanda to take some more of the medicine, to which surprisingly she didn’t complain about before. After which she sipped on her tea and leaned her head back against the headboard, closing her heavy eyes. 

“Thanks for taking care of us,” she murmured, reaching out to take your hand as you got up from the bed to change into something softer. 

“Always,” you replied, squeezing her hand gently. “I love you. Just give me a sec and I’ll come cuddle, just settle down baby.” 

“I love you too,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. 

You changed into your softest pyjamas, then grabbed a spare blanket to drape over the three of you. You crawled back into bed, sandwiching yourself between the two sick girls, wrapping your arms around them and pulling them close. 

You could feel the heat radiating off of their bodies, but you didn't mind. You were just glad you were there to help them feel better. You whispered soothing words to them, rubbing their backs as they drifted off into a restless sleep. 

As the night wore on, you continued to wake up every few hours to check on them, making sure they had enough water and medicine, adjusting the blankets when they became too hot or too cold. It was exhausting, but you didn't mind. You loved them both so much, and you knew they would do the same for you if you were ever in their shoes. 

Eventually, as the first light of dawn filtered in through the window, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep too, exhausted but content in the knowledge that you had taken care of your girls through the night. The lack of sleep and beginnings of a headache were well worth it in your mind. 

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#wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sickfic #sick!wanda maximoff x reader #sick!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff sickfic #marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel sickfic #wanda maximoff sickfic #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff

[teddy06writes]

A Thousand Little Moments (That Help Me Heal)

Requested by @alphamoonlunala9391 "Can you do more parts of What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better please and maybe make the character a god hybrid reader"

and sort of @noctis-yeye

This is the Part three of You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now and What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better

Quackity x reader; Past mentioned Sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, existentialism? kind of? (Charlie being like, 'everything turns to dust so whats the point')

premise: it's like i said in the part two, its just gonna be a bunch of little scenes that happen in the two year gap, plus the wedding that would then happen at the end of part two for the last scene (no I don't really know how proper weddings go, all the ones i've been too were ~weird~ soooo...)

{to the asker who actually went in my inbox to request, I can't make reader a hybrid because its too late in the series to really change it}

{snowchester las nevadas conflict- we don't know her}

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

"(y/n) from Las Nevadas?"

You glanced up from your work to find Charlie at your office door, "Yeah Charlie?"

"This place 'ill be around a while right? No- no explosions like L'manburg?" He slid into the room and dropped into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

You frowned, "How do you know about L'manburg?"

"I told you- I move slow, but I've seen a lot. L'manburg was nice- but then it was gone."

You sighed, "I know... I was there- all three times. L'manburg was my home before Las Nevadas."

"If you and Quackity from Las Nevadas want me to stay here- which it sounds like you do, I want to know: Las Nevadas will be around for a while, right? I don't want it to go to dust like everything else does."

"As much as we can help it Charlie," You glanced down at your desk, "I'm not gonna let another home get destroyed."

~~

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you made it to the top of the needle.

Purpled was still sitting near the edge of the deck where he'd stayed after you'd finished the tour. It seemed the only difference now, was that behind him the sky was dark, and speckled with stars.

"You got room for company kid?" You asked quietly.

He nodded, and you quickly moved to sit next to him, "So what do you think of the place?"

"'s alright." He mumbled.

"Charlie wasn't enough to scare you off?" You chuckled.

He shook his head, "Nah... Where did you find that guy?"

"Sneakin around one of the restaurants." You laughed.

"He's insane."

"Yeah no, probably." You sighed.

Purpled got quiet again, turning to look back out over the city, "Why'd you offer me a spot here? You said it wasn't a job, so why actually offer it to me?"

You frowned, thinking for a moment, "I guess- ever since L'manburg- I don't want to see anyone else suffering on this server, especially not any more of you kids. You deserve to have a place, and people looking out for you Purpled."

"You keep saying that- but why here? How come you two are the only ones that say that?" He snapped.

Shifting to lean against the railing, you sighed again, "Did you hear about Kinoko Kingdom, when it was founded?"

"Yeah. Karl, Sapnap and George did that, didn't they?"

You nodded, "You know we were supposed to marry Sap and Karl once, Quackity and I."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"Really. Cause we'd been dating, and they'd been dating, and then Karl started hitting on Quackity, and in retaliation Sapnap was hitting on me- anyway, it felt perfect and shit right?"

"Mhhhm."

"Well then one day, right before doomsday, Karl up and disappears, and of course we're worried, but there's a war on. So once its all over, Q was devastated, cause everything he built in El Rapids was gone. He'd always wanted to just make a place for us. He disappeared too.

"Sapnap and I split up to look for them, and planned to meet up here. But- they never turned up. One day we come to find out, they went and started there own place-" You stopped, clearing your throat, and shaking your head, "They abandoned us. I don't want anyone else getting abandoned. This server tried to abandon you Purp, but I'm not gonna let them."

When you looked back over at him, there was a small smile on his face, "...Thank you..."

~~

"(y/n)! Guess who showed up today!"

You chuckled as you looked up to find Quackity leading Fundy toward where you sat at one of the tables under the needle with Charlie, "Fundy! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey (y/n)!" He smiled.

"Hello Fundy From L'manburg!" Charlie greeted excitedly.

Fundy's smile seemed to droop, "How did you know that...?"

"He knows a lot more than most people think," You said apologetically, "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Pretty alright, pretty alright." He nodded, sitting down at one of the open seats as Quackity plopped down next to you.

"That's good. It's good to see you're doing better!"

He nodded, "How have things been going over here?"

"Pretty good," Quackity grinned, "It'll be great to have another official partner on property. So far the only big one we've got living here is Purpled."

"You got Purpled to come here? Wow." Fundy chuckled.

You smiled, "Yeah, I think he's starting construction on a new UFO soon. You got any big plans for being here?"

"I'm not sure yet- but I'll figure it out," He smiled, "I've got a feeling that this place will be better than L'manburg ever could have been."

~~ "Babe, I made breakfast!"

You yawned, slowly sitting up at Quackity's call, "What kind of breakfast?"

"Pancakes!"

"And Purpled From Las Nevadas taught me to make the orange juice!" Charlie exclaimed from the kitchen.

You chuckled, getting up and tugging down the sleeves of one of Quackity's long since stolen hoodies.

Out in the kitchen, Charlie was setting a pitcher of orange juice on the table as Purpled set out plates, and Fundy dug around in a cabinet looking for syrup.

You moved over to where Quackity was flipping the last of the pancakes, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Good morning."

"Good morning babe." He chuckled.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, ignoring the overly exaggerated gaging noise Purpled made, "Keep it to yourself!"

"Keep what to myself Purpled from UFO?" Charlie asked.

"Not you idiot!" You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

Fundy laughed, sitting up and banging his head on the cabinet.

You smiled into Quackity's back, listening to the half chaos behind you happily.

~~ "Hey Ranboo!" You greeted cheerfully as he entered the office, "What brings you here?"

"Hi (y/n), I just wanted to ask you something."

"Mhhm." You nodded as he sat down.

"Well it's Tubbo and Tommy, I'm trying to help them with all the L'manburg Schlatt, Wilbur, stuff-" He broke off with a sigh, "I just don't know what I'm doing. They need help but- I don't even know how to deal with my own issues."

You frowned, "Is it nightmares? About the festival?- or Tommy's exile?"

"Yeah... how did you guess that?"

"I know a thing or two about nightmares," You sighed, "they don't really go away like that. You aren't doing anything wrong by not knowing what to do."

Ranboo stared down at his hands, "I just feel like I should be helping them more."

"You know what helped everyone around here? Creating a home- having a place or people, that helped Fundy and Purpled, and kind of Charlie? I still don't know his deal- Anyway! just be there for them, hell, bring them here, we'll all be here for you guys."

He looked up suddenly, "Why would you guys be- why would you offer us that? We're not in your allegiance."

"I know. But I don't think any of you kids deserve what this server gives you. Bring them here or not, you all have a place here if you want it." You assured him.

"Really?"

"Of course."

~~ "AYYYY Big Q!"

Tommy's yell cut through the semi loud sounds of the crowded apartment.

"Tommy! You came!" Quackity exclaimed, "Hey Tubbo! Hey Ranboo! And is that Michael?"

The piglin squealed, running past him into the apartment, toward Purpled's dog.

He laughed, "Well, come in guys, Fundy's getting the movie thing ready, and Purp and Charlie are getting snacks and things."

Ranboo followed Tommy and Tubbo into the room as Charlie came from the kitchen, carrying the bowel of chips Purpled had told him to bring out, "Hey! It's Tubbo Underscore Beloved From Snowchester! And Ranboo Beloved Underscore From {redacted}! And Tomathy Careful Danger Kraken Innit from L'manburg!"

Purpled, who'd stopped in the kitchen doorway, "Did he just make a bleeped out fucking noise with his mouth?"

"Yeah- yeah no he did." Fundy confirmed.

"Your middle name is Kraken?" You asked, shuffling out with a stack of blankets.

Tommy nodded, "Yup."

You laughed, "That's- kind of ridiculous, why would Philza saddle you with that?"

"Well 'es not my dad is 'e?" Tommy scoffed.

"Wait seriously?" Quackity asked.

Tubbo laughed, "You really thought...?"

You shook your head, "Whatever... Fundy what's the status on that movie?"

"I'm almost done." He reported.

"Right, everyone get comfortable then." You said, dropping the pile of blankets you had been carrying.

Quackity plopped down onto the couch, pulling you to sit with him as Tubbo and Ranboo began to make a nest of blankets between the arm chair where Purpled sat and the couch.

Charlie passed around snacks and Fundy finished setting up the projector as the move began.

~~ You sighed, turning and pressing your face into Quackity's shoulder, "Thank you."

It had been a week since Karl and Sapnap had left Las Nevadas, and your fiancé had insisted that you take time off of managing things.

"For what baby?" He asked softly.

"Everything. I love you."

"I love you too." He murmured.

You smiled softly, looking up at him, "How long until that wedding?"

~~ "You ready?" Charlie asked.

You turned to him, looking up from the paper on which you'd written your vows, "Yeah... I think so."

He grinned, "Let's go then!"

You nodded as he looped his arm through yours and you started toward the doorway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Las Nevadas!" He announced, "Here we go!"

You chuckled as you started down the isle with him, grinning at Quackity, who stood, looking already close to tears.

Purpled, Fundy, Sam, Tubbo, Tommy and Michael stood in various places around the alter, Foolish glancing down at the book he held open.

As you reached the alter, he started, "Dear people, we are gathered here today to witness the sort of? holy matrimony of (y/n) (y/l/n) and Alex Quackity. If anyone here has any objections to this union speak now, or hold your peace."

There was a silence, Michaels tiny snort being the only sound before Foolish continued, "This journey, which you have started together, will continue on now, as you walk, side by side, step by step, together, now joined in such a way that you can't really get rid of each other without a divorce."

Laughs and chuckles filled the wedding hall as Quackity shook his head, "Nope, you're stuck with me babe."

You laughed, "Good."

"Now, would you recite your vows?"

You pulled the paper from your pocket, "I'm going first. So, ever since we started seeing each other, we thought it would be you and me forever. Even after everything we went through, and even after Sapnap and Karl, its still you and me. I would say that its just you and me, but," You looked around at everyone,

"It's not just you and me, it's you and me and these guys. When we started this place, I knew that it would be difficult, especially with all the hurt that the SMP caused us. But, even as I was helping everyone here heal, you were helping me. Because you helped me find this family, and you- you gave me a thousand little moments that made me feel again.

A thousand moments that helped me heal."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy06 writes #teddy 06 writes

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #reader insert #my writing #speed and stress

[mxchellesworld]

matthew and degradation/spit play 👀🥵

a/n; lol i was looking through my inbox and this stuck out to me because yall know i love my spit kink, anywhooo hope yall enjoy this 

warnings; degradation, spitting, daddy kink, oral (male receiving) 

to say you were being a brat earlier that day was an understatement. during filming you spent the day flirting with everyone on set. and while usually it was good nature chummy fooling around, matthew knew exactly what you were doing. you were trying to get under his skin. 

everyone else thought you were just being extra touchy. who could blame you, they’re all hot and you’re close friends. it started off with shemar and feeling on his muscles. during breaks you would all try to take pictures. one in particular was him with his shirt pulled up. all the girls, kirsten, paget, aj, and yourself were all gathered around pretending to gawk at him. though you took the artistic liberty of leaning forward and stick your tongue out as if you were liking his stomach. 

everyone got a laugh out of it and you were called back to film from your break. matthew gave you a look from across the set. it was a fake scowl before he changed into his usual smile. he’d get in on the picture too so he wasn’t that upset. then you kept escalating. 

you were filming a scene in the conference room where paget was standing next to you. the button down she was wearing had a stain above her chest and you pointed it out for the dressing crew to try and fix. 

quickly she made a comment which perfect for you to match her energy. 

“god y/n get a view checking for that stain,” she said with a smirk. 

“i was actually trying to be a good friend and cast mate but if you wanna give me a show i wont say no,” you winked.

“ditch noodle boy over there and you got yourself a deal.”

everyone around you groaned or hooted at the comment. again matthew looked at you with a little more of that angry look in his eyes. you smiled at him innocently and looked back at paget fidling with the bleaching pen they gave her to fix the stain. 

at this point he was able to put the dots together and see what you were doing. though he decided to keep his calm and act like he wasn’t upset at what you were doing. he wanted to see what length you would go to just for his attention. 

he found out while you guys were filming on the ‘jet’. you were sat in the 4 seater next to him with thomas and aj across from you. you were going over victimology in the case so matthew was giving one of his long facts, in the meantime you decided to let your hand drift onto his thigh. he tried to seem unphased and cleared his throat but kept on going. 

you upped the pressure and gave his leg a squeeze before slowing trailing your fingers up to where his dick was resting. biting your lip you tried not to let your smile show at how the redness was spreading from his neck to his ears. 

while you thought you were being sneaky thomas had noticed and had a small hotch-like smirk on his face. once matthew was in the middle of reading off a long number he spoke up, “reid, thats enough and agent y/l/n no more fooling around under the table this is a cbs show for christ sake.” 

everyone looked over to you guys and started laughing. the director yelled cut and everyone took a deep breath to redo the scene. 

“y/n no foolery this time,” thomas said in his scolding hotch voice.

“say no more daddy,” you said before taking putting on your acting face.

you heard matthew let out a sigh next to you. you could tell he was trying his best to keep this mix of anger and arousal contained until after the day was over. 

since it was the last scene of the day once you were all wrapped you made your way into your trailer. You stepped out of the heels and pulled off your belt to get comfy. there was a knock on your door which pulled you out of your thoughts. once you unlocked it matthew wasted no time in whipping the door open and putting his hand in the back of your head. he grabbed a handful of hair and brought you down to your knees. 

you looked ahead and were met with a face full of his hard cock trapped within his dress pants. he tilted your head up and made you look into his eyes. the usual caramel was gone and replaced with lust blown pupils. 

“you know i don’t like bratty girls y/n,” the way gritted out your name went straight to your pussy. 

“im sorry daddy,” you said with a pout. you really weren’t but you knew egging him on would just result in you not being able to sit for a few days. 

“oh now you wanna be nice and call me that? maybe i should call thomas in here? im sure he’d love to see his sweet little y/n on her knee’s like the whore she truly is,” he said leaning down, inches away from your face. 

you whimpered at his words, trying to pull your face closer to his. you could smell his minty toothpaste and were dying to taste it on his lips. he pulled back and used his unoccupied hand to undo his belt. 

“dirty whores don’t deserve anything other than my cock in their mouth. do you understand?” he roughly let go of your hair and looked at you expectantly. knowing what he wanted you replied as your hands went to unbutton his pants, “i understand daddy.”

he kept his scrutinizing gaze down on you as you pulled down his briefs and pumped his cock a few times. trying not to tease him you licked a stripe up to the tip before taking him in your mouth. 

he let out a sigh as he let you set a pace at first. he was being generous instead of forcing himself down your throat like he would later. 

“fuck just like that baby. such a perfect mouth.” he said breathlessly. 

you hummed around him and he took it as a sign to get rougher. he let both of his hands go to the back of your head as he started to thrust into your mouth. 

“god you’re such a whore. i bet you’d let anyone on set just use you how i am right now.”

you moaned around him, causing him to let out a groan from the added stimulation. you tried to sneak your hand down to rub against your pants. it wasn’t much but you needed something, anything to try and gain some friction. he caught on and let go of your head on one side, ripping your hand out from between your legs. 

“sluts like you don’t deserve any kind of pleasure until daddy decides they deserve it. you’re gonna let me cum down your throat then we’re gonna go home and maybe just maybe ill decide if you get to cum.”

you nodded around him and let him set his pace again. you felt your throat getting sore as he kept on thrusting. he started to falter and throb in your mouth signaling his incoming release. he pulled your head all the way down to where your nose was against his pelvis as he spilled his load down your throat. 

he pulled his cock out of your mouth as you swallowed, the salty tears running down your face surly trailed your mascara and eyeliner. 

you looked up at him with big eyes, eager to do anything which would gain you a release later tonight. he smiled down at you sweetly which was a huge contrast from his previous actions and what he was about to do. 

he used his thumb to wipe away the streaks and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, “i think you deserve a reward princess.” 

the same thumb trailed on your swollen lips, “open and swallow it,” he said before spitting right onto your tongue. 

you happily complied and watched as he tucked himself back into his pants. 

“thank you daddy.” 

#criminal minds smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 20: Doctor Visit/Checkup

Title: The Best Medicine

Fandom: N/A

Based on this post by me. (Sick doctor)

A physician leaves work miserably sick. His RN girlfriend takes care of him.

(Author’s Note: This breaks the rule I set of less than 2k words but I wrote it before I decided to do this challenge and thought it worked well here. I just needed a sick doctor having PE performed on them ok 😅)

Due to the fact that it was 6:30 AM and she was still more asleep than awake, it took her a while to realize the man she was dating was standing behind her as she waited in line for coffee. However, in her defense, she had never seen him in this coffee line at this time of day before (and she herself was here at this time every day).

It wasn't until she heard a familiar, sniffly yawning noise that she turned and caught his eye. 

"Shane? What are you doing here? You're usually sleeping right now." She didn't go to greet him right away, mainly because she didn't want to lose her place in line, and only two people stood between her and caffeination.

He too looked startled, though happy to see her. "Molly, hey," he said. There was a squeaky rasp to his voice and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Had an early meeting that got cancelled at the last minute. Since I was already awake, figured I'd come into the office early and clear out my inboxes."

"Gotcha. Well cool, that means I get to treat you to coffee for once. You find a place to sit and I'll get the drinks."

He shot her a grateful look and stepped out of line.

Molly ordered, received, and paid for the coffees quickly, tipping generously, before going to join Shane. He kissed her on the cheek as he took his cup, and they shared a warm smile as they made their way to a little sitting area, sharing a bench against the wall.

"Kathy's coffee is the best in the hospital. You'll love this."

"So you've told me many times. I'm glad I finally get to try it. What did you get me?"

"A surprise. You'll like it, trust me."

"Cheers, then." With another smile, they tapped their cups together before taking long pulls of their beverages.

"This is delicious," he said after a moment. "Best I've ever had from here. Thanks, babe."

"My pleasure." They sat for a bit in companionable silence, sipping their drinks. However, Molly couldn't help but cast sidelong glances at her partner with increasing frequency. Now that she was next to him, she saw he looked quite unwell. He was pale and shivery, with a flush over his cheeks and ears, and looking overall rundown and uncomfortable, a far cry from his usual easy smile and warm, steady demeanor.

"Is everything ok, doc? You really don't look good."

"You're saying I look ugly today?" he countered teasingly, dodging the question. 

She nudged him playfully. "You're just as handsome as ever. I'm saying you look sick. Are you feeling ok?"

He shrugged. "Think I'm just tired. Not used to being up so early. My head and throat are kinda sore I guess."

"Just tired, huh?" She reached out and placed her palm to his forehead, then his flushed cheeks, and finally his neck, where she could feel the swollen lymph nodes she had already seen. She clicked her tongue scoldingly.

"That's a fever, Doctor Mitchell, and a high one at that. Why in the world did you come to work today?"

"No kidding, really?" Shane leaned back against the wall, rubbing his neck and looking sheepish. "I can't even remember the last time I had a fever. Had to have been before medical school. Guess I forgot what it feels like."

"Hmm. Well regardless, you need to go home. You can't risk infecting your patients and staff."

"Yeah, of course. I'll go now."

When he stood, she did as well, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Feel better. Get lots of rest and fluids."

"I know the drill," he rasped, smiling a little. "I am a physician."

"Sometimes I have my doubts, mister 'doesn't know what a fever feels like.' Sports medicine doesn't deal with the flu much." She kissed his shoulder fondly.

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled away, running his thumb over her jawline. "Thanks again for the coffee. I'll see you later. Text me when you have time. I'm sure I'll be bored out of my mind."

"Will do."

She watched him go wistfully, wishing she was going with him.

Naturally he wasn't far from her thoughts for the rest of the day. The hospital OB-GYN clinic was as busy as ever, and the hustle and bustle kept Molly, an RN, quite distracted, but every moment of downtime found her wondering how Shane was doing.

She texted him a few times as he requested. The first time he replied right away, saying he had made it home safely and was relaxing on the couch. The second time he replied a few hours later, saying how tired he was and how he really was starting to feel unwell, but he was doing fine. The third time he never replied.

Her plans for the weekend had been solidified in her mind as soon as she felt how feverish he was. She practically ran out the door as soon as she clocked out. Her first stop was her house to change clothes, shower, and gather some supplies. Her second stop was Shane's favorite soup and sandwich place for two quarts of soup and two sandwiches to go. From there, she headed to Shane's condo across town.

She hadn't informed him she was coming because she had wanted it to be a bit of a surprise. Initially her plan was to leave the soup and sandwich on the stoop and ring the bell, then duck out of sight until the last minute. However, her plan changed when she caught a glimpse of him through the front door.

He was fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach on the couch. Bundled under two blankets and snoring with his mouth open, surrounded by a nest of used tissues and dishes, he was the picture of illness.

She didn't have the heart to wake him by knocking, so instead she used her copy of his house key to let herself in quietly, being careful not to let the cold air in with her. He didn't stir even after she shut and re-locked the door. After removing her coat, she deposited the items she had brought in the kitchen, then returned to his side. Perching on the edge of the couch, she ran her hand over his face and through his hair to wake him.

He stirred weakly, mumbling and snuffling as he opened his eyes. His face lit up upon seeing her, and he quickly sat up, leaning all of his sleepy, overly-warm weight against her for a tight hug.

"Molly, you're here! I'mb so habby to see you," he croaked earnestly.

She hugged him back just as tightly. "Of course I'm here. When you stopped replying to my texts, I knew I had to come check on you. You look so sick, poor guy, and you're so stuffed up. Are you surviving?"

He shrugged, pulling away. "I guess. I'mb doi'g ok. So achy and tired. Just been sleebi'g all day." He licked his cracked lips and tried to swallow, which resulted in a grimace. "Budt you should go, babe. I don'dt wandt you to catch this. It's ndasty."

As if to prove his point, he turned away from her to cough productively into his elbow, thick and chesty. He followed it up with a honking nose blow that was far less productive. She watched this display sympathetically.

"I'm not leaving you all alone and sick like this. And anyway, if I do get sick, I think I know a doctor who could take care of me." She bumped her shoulder against his. He smiled wanly. "Now, have you taken any medicine recently?"

He sheepishly averted his eyes. "Umb… ndo. I… don'dt really have anythi'g to take."

"Ugh, Shane. Don't tell me you're one of those 'it only treats the symptoms' purists."

"Ndo, it's ndot thad. Like I told you, I just haven't been sigck in years. I've never thought to buy cold mbedicine."

"You're such a guy," she sighed. "Even if you are a doctor. You at least got your flu shot right?"

"Yeah. Budt they're already sayi'g it's probably ndot goi'g to be very effective this year."

"Of course they are." She sighed again. "However, I had a hunch this would happen, so I came prepared." She quickly retrieved a bag from the kitchen which rattled with medications, sitting down beside him again. She selected the ones she wanted and shook them into his hand, watching closely as he swallowed them.

"You're acti'g like you don'dt trust mbe to take care of mbyself," he teased, taking several gulps of water to chase the pills. 

"That's not necessarily true. I just want to do everything possible to help you feel better."

He had to cough harshly again before he could answer, hard enough to redden his face. "I love thad you wandt to take care of mbe. Budt you should really go. I'mb so contagious right ndow, and I don'dt wandt to try to stay away from you."

"Then don't. I came here to be close to you. I don't care if I get sick. It's the weekend anyway. I'm here for you and only you. Besides, you were probably contagious yesterday too, and we still made out. So it doesn't matter anyway."

"You're too good to mbe," he mumbled, finally succumbing and leaning his full weight against her, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms loosely around her. "Budt I still don'dt approve. You're staying AMA, just so we're clear."

"Call me a rebel, then," she murmured, stroking his sweaty hair.

He sneezed suddenly, only once, but wet and laborious, catching it in his elbow. She quickly pulled a tissue from the nearby box. He took it gratefully, blowing his stopped nose as best he could before resting against her again. He sighed deeply as she resumed her petting.

"You're lugcky the desire to be taken care of when sigck is a deebply ingrained biological traidt," he continued to mumble, sounding sleepier by the second.

"I am, huh? Well you're talking an awful lot for someone who has no voice."

She felt him smile against her, but he did fall silent for a while, aside from his sniffling and soft coughing. She thought he was going back to sleep when he spoke up again.

"You know whad would mbake mbe feel even better thad mbedicine? Sumb soubp."

"Hmm, well it just so happens you have a girlfriend who thinks of everything." She gently shifted him off of her, going back to the kitchen and returning with a quart of soup and a sandwich.

"Sal's chigcken rice?" he rasped, his eyes lighting up hungrily as he sat up straighter. 

"Naturally. We've been together almost two years. I know what you like when you're not feeling good."

"You're a lifesaver," he groaned, taking the proffered food and digging in right away.

"I'm glad you have an appetite anyway. I won't ever forget last year's stomach flu incident."

 "Ugh, don'dt rembind mbe," he said with a shudder. "Bud other than thad one time, I'll always have an abbetite for this soubp. This is all I've wanted all day." He wolfed down the food with unexpected vigor.

"Well then you're lucky I think of everything, like I said. And to think you wanted to kick me out."

"I ndever *wanted* you kigck you oud. I'm just goi'g to hade mbyself whed you ged sigck," he mumbled, swallowing a mouthful.

"Maybe I won't get sick, did you think of that? And like I've been saying--" She leaned in to kiss him fully on the mouth, long and hard, until he pulled away gasping. "--I don't care. As long as you promise to take care of me if I do, I won't complain about a few days off. So stop worrying."

"Ugh, take it easy babe," he moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "This fever has mby blood flow all mbessed ub. You can'dt be usi'g your lips on mbe like thad."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to seduce you today. Unless you instigate it of course." She gave him a wicked look and he flushed. 

"You're something else, Mol," he muttered, unable to hide a smile.

"Just eat your 'soob'." 

He did what he was told while she tidied up his sick bed area. When he was almost done, she fetched another bag from the kitchen and began rummaging through it. He eyed the items she pulled out suspiciously.

"How much crabp did you bri'g? And whad are you doi'g ndow?"

"Something I've always wanted to do. And something I think will make you smile."

"I feel like I've been smili'g since you godt here."

It was Molly's turn to flush and smile. "Something that might make you laugh, then."

She sat close beside him on the couch with her stethoscope around her neck, placing a little tablet of paper and a pen in front of her on the table. 

"Constitution:" she both said this out loud and wrote it on the paper. "Well-nourished. Unwell appearing today. Complains of malaise and myalgia. Lymphatics:" 

She had been neatly writing everything down as she spoke. After the last word, she reached out to gently palate the visibly swollen lymph nodes in his neck. He moaned softly as she massaged them, the moan turning into a cough.

"Cervical lymphadenopathy noted. Lymph nodes tender to palpation." She wrote this down as well.

"Whad are you doi'g, Mol?"

"You get to be a doctor all the time. Today you're definitely the patient, so I'm taking my turn being the doctor and doing a physical exam on you. We need to make a diagnosis after all."

"Ah, of course. Mby apologies, please continue," he said with a little laugh, wiping his nose with a tissue.

"Thank you. Open your mouth please." Inserting a thermometer under his tongue, she also took his pulse with her watch as the thermometer calibrated. 

"Resting heart rate is elevated at 86 bpm. Temperature is abnormal at 101.8 degrees Fahrenheit."

"I could've told you thad. I just toogk my tembp before you godt here."

"I find that hard to believe since you were sleeping when I got here. Now shh. Actually say 'ah'." She situated a tongue depressor in his mouth, peering in. "Throat erythematous and inflamed," she said and wrote. "Now lean forward a bit if you would."

He did as he was told, looking slightly put-upon and she slid the diaphragm of her stethoscope under his worn university tee shirt, placing it on his back as she listened to him breathe for a moment. "Minor ronchi noted. No crackles or rales. Minimal concern for pneumonia at this time."

"Well thad's a relief," he said, sniffling wetly.

"Shh, I still need to listen to your heart," she said, sliding the diaphragm of the stethoscope around to his chest. 

"Terrible beside manner. I'm leavi'g a ndegative review."

She gave him her sternest "doctor" look. He merely smiled impishly. She sighed, biting back a smile of her own, and listened again.

"Normal rhythm. L-1, L-2 heard."

Setting aside the instruments, she slid her hands under his shirt, feeling gently.

"Skin is overly warm or feverish. Abdomen is soft, non-tender and non-distended."

"You didn't have to go under mby shirt, you know. Abdominal exam cad be done over clothi'g," he said, smirking.

"I was being… thorough," she said with a wink.

He chuckled hoarsely. "Someone's godt the hots for their patiendt. Thad's trouble," he murmured, stifling a yawn as he pulled his blanket closer around himself with a shiver. 

"Neurologic: grossly normal. Tremors noted due to chills. Psychiatric: patient is oriented to person, place, time. Behavior normal, but appears lethargic, fatigued and sleepy."

After writing down these final notes, she cuddled up beside him on the couch, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him close as he started shivering in earnest. He nestled against her wearily.

"How did I do?" she murmured. "Did I make you laugh a little at least?"

"Very thorough and efficiendt," he mumbled sleepily, coughing. "And yes you did. Whad's your diagnosis and treadtment plan, doctor?"

"At best a severe case of rhinovirus. I'm more inclined to think influenza due to the fever, but we'll continue to monitor. No active intervention needed at this time. Bed rest at home, OTC medication as needed and adequate hydration recommended." At this she handed him his water bottle. He drank several big gulps before handing it back to her and snuggling in again.

"If that's what the doctor orders," he sniffled, closing his eyes. 

She held him for a while, since that seemed to be all he wanted, just rubbing his back and stroking his hair. However, they were forced to move when Shane pulled away to break into one of his barking, painful coughing fits. He tried to settle again after the fact, making a face. 

"I don't feel good, Mol," he mumbled pathetically. "This sugcks."

"I know, doc. But I'm doing everything I can to help you feel better. I didn't realize your fever was so high though," she murmured. "And that was after you took medicine. But you seemed just fine yesterday. You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

"Thad's one of the reasons you have the hots for mbe, you know id is," he croaked.

"The only thing with the hots around here is that fever. You're sweltering."

"Sorry," he mumbled, yet made no effort to move off of her. Instead he sneezed wetly into his elbow.

"Update, you're sweltering *and* gross," she said conversationally. Yet she made no effort to move away from him either, kissing his forehead instead. He yawned as she did. "And sleepy."

"Thingk I'm just sigck," he muttered.

"Yeah, let's go with that. Do you want to go back to sleep right now?"

"Ndo. Ndot while you're here. I'm too sigck to sleeb anyway."

"There's no such thing as being too sick to sleep. But if you don't want to sleep right now, I have one more present for you." 

"You've already given mbe too mbuch."

"There's no such thing as that either." She carefully shifted out from under him again and attempted to head to the kitchen once more. Before she could take more than a step though, he caught her hand and made her turn around. Seeing his imploring look, she stepped back into the V of his legs. He wrapped his arms fully around her, burying his hot face in her abdomen. 

"Thangk you mbuch for the soubp and mbedicine, baby. You really are a lifesaver. I just wanted to tell you thad."

She nuzzled her face into his messy hair. "Anything to help you feel better. I can tell you're still miserable though."

"Nodt miserable with you here." 

"Just sick."

"Mhm," he mumbled, sleepily as ever. She let him hold her for another moment or two before speaking again.

"Seriously though, I have something else I want to give you. It'll just take a second to grab."

"Fine," he sighed. As he pulled away, she saw a hazy, pre-sneeze look cross his face. Sure enough, as she trotted to the kitchen, behind her she heard him emit a pair of messy, rough sneezes.

"That soup really got your nose going, huh?" she asked as she reentered the living room.

"Guess so," he sniffled, blowing his nose thickly. "Thad's the poindt though, right?"

"Indeed it is." She moved to the entertainment center and quickly plugged her laptop into the TV.

"Now whad are you doi'g?"

"Maybe you should stop asking questions and just wait and see."

"You know I hade surprises."

"That's not true at all in my experience, so I'm calling your bluff on that one. But you won't have to wait long for this one either way."

After a few setting changes to allow the laptop display to be projected on the TV, Molly popped a disk into the drive and started it up.

"Are we watchi'g somethi'g?"

"You and your questions." She tossed a thick DVD case into his lap. He picked it up, his eyes widening happily.

"The original Jurassic Park trilogy? Holy crabp, this is awesome!"

"I'm glad you approve," she laughed, stepping into his arms again. "It was going to be your Christmas present, but I figured a sick day at home is an even better occasion."

"This is perfect, love. You're ambazing," he mumbled, squeezing her tightly.

"Anything for my best guy." She nuzzled his hair again fondly. "Anything to help you sleep."

"I don'dt wandt to sleeb while you're here though. I don'dt wandt to mbiss out on seei'g you."

"Well then you're in luck, because I'm planning on staying here all weekend. So I'll be here when you fall asleep and when you wake up. No time wasted at all."

A grin split his face. "You'd do thad for mbe?"

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise. Doctors need to be looked after too, especially by their nurse girlfriends. So you stretch out and get comfortable and leave the rest to me."

"You're cooler than anadomy and dinosaurs combined, you know thad?"

Molly giggled happily. "I don't know if I'll ever come back from such high praise. You better quit while you're ahead, Dr. Mitchell."

"Only if you promise to make mbe coffee in the morni'g. Your good coffee."

"Sounds like a plan," she said with a grin and another kiss.

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #prompt 20

[ola-elaina]

Hi. Can I please request an one-shot about Lenora confessing to the reader that she's pregnant since the reader and Arvin had a baby while being teens as well? You can decide how it ends. Thank you 🙈🙈

FAMILY

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Arvin Russell x fem!reader; Lenora Laferty x platonic!reader

A/N: unedited!

You stood before the picnic table, arranging the food your mother and Arvin’s grandmother had prepared.

It was Lenora’s birthday today.

She, along with you, Arvin, Charles, your parents, and their grandma had come to the open park just a little out of town to celebrate as per her request.

Arvin had offered a trip to the beach, but Lenora was feeling ill the past couple of days. Instead, she wanted to get some fresh air at the park where the three of you would come hang around and bring Charles with.

Halfway of folding the napkin on your hand, you felt a familiar pair of hands gripped your waist then snaked on your middle, almost making you yelp.

It was Arvin. His chin resting on your shoulder as he took a peek of what you were doing then placed a peck on the bare crook of your neck. His kisses trailing up to your jaw while his thumb drew slow circles on your side.

A giggle escaped your lips which you quickly covered by clearing your throat. “Arvin!” You elbowed his stomach to stop him.

You turned to face him, surprised that he was alone. His deep chuckle resonated in your ear.

When he stepped back, it gave you a chance to look over to the table where Emma and your parents were at. Thankfully, the three of them were busying themselves with Charles — yours and Arvin’s one year old toddler.

Your eye also spotted Lenora who was sitting at the foot of an oak tree. Her back resting on the wide trunk while she faced the scenic view of Ohio.

“Lenora wanted to talk to you.” He announced, his hands still resting at the low of your back.

“About what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She won’t tell.” His voice laced with concern, brows pulled together, head tilting to the side from confusion. Arvin was obviously troubled with Lenora’s sickly demeanor the past couple of days.

You brought a finger to his crumpled skin between his brows to straighten them. “I’ll go talk to her. Don’t worry about it.”

Arvin sighed before nodding.

“Would you mind finishing this up? So, our birthday girl could eat after we talk, maybe Lenora’s just hungry.”

“Of course not.” He slid his hand with yours, giving it a squeeze before finally letting you go. “Please, make sure she’s alright.”

You nodded, giving back the squeeze.

When you approached Lenora, she had her eyes closed — her head leaning against the wood. You sat beside her quietly as not to disturb her.

It was a beautiful bright day today. The sun was out but it wasn’t glaring down at you. The breeze was refreshing, not too cold nor too hot. The sounds of the birds chirping above the branches, the wind rustling the leaves, and the gleeful voices of your family from the distance hang around the air.

From Lenora’s stature, you thought she was asleep, but you felt her fingers interlaced with yours. Her head falling to rest on your shoulder. You let yours sit on top of hers.

Peaceful silence enveloped the two of you until the girl beside you broke the silence.

“Y/N...” She started; her tone sounded like she was hesitating. It piqued your curiosity. Lenora was quiet but once she spoke, she was certain. You let her take her time, not wanting to pressure her into talking. From the way her hand shook a bit, it was evident that she was a bundle of nerves. “What did it feel like when you first found out about Charles?”

Her sudden question took you aback. Your brows shoot up, blinking a couple times before answering. “Very frightening, to say the least. It was the first time I had missed my period and felt very sick. I thought I had caught something bad.” You chuckled as you recalled.

Now that you thought about it, this was the first time you and Lenora are talking about your pregnancy as odd as it is. The both of you weren’t that close until you ran away to the Russells’ out of fear from your parents’ reaction.

That’s when your tightly knitted friendship with Lenora bloomed. She was there for you and Arvin the whole time. Anything you needed; she’d do if she could. Lenora cared deeply not only for Arvin, but for you as well. You never had siblings and you found one in her.

Lenora never forced herself into anything during your pregnancy. She knew it was a difficult time for you and Arvin. She never asked but she was there. Always.

You owed a lot to her.

“What was the first thing on your mind?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It was a flood of thoughts and emotions. I cried for nights, thinking how I would tell my parents... and Arvin. Oh, Lord. Believe it or not, it was Arvin’s reaction I was most afraid of.”

“Really? Why?”

“Mhmm.” You shrugged. “I guess I thought if my parents disowned me, I would have no one to turn to. The two of us weren’t close then I couldn’t come to you yet.”

Lenora let out a soft chuckle, bringing your intertwined hands on her heart — placing her other hand on top of it.

“Why’d you ask—” You cut yourself short, your head shot up as an idea popping in your mind.

No, it can’t be. There’s no way.

Her hands were now visibly shaking. When she turned to look at you, you caught the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Your eyes doubled in size as you stared at her, waiting for her confirmation.

“Y/N...” She shook her head. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

Lenora ran the back of her free hand on her damp upper lip. “That ain’t the reaction I was hoping for, but it was better than what I was expecting.” She pointed a weak smile at your mouth that hung open.

“This must be the feeling when you found out I was pregnant.” You muttered, still unable to think of what to say.

“So, you’re happy?”

You grinned at her. You took your hand from your hold and grabbed her pale cheeks on your hand. “Is that why you were feeling ill the past few days?”

She nodded.

“Do you know how long?”

“Almost 3 months.” She replied sheepishly. “Y/N, I’m scared...”

You opened your arms, allowing her to fall into your embrace. She cried in your arms, knowing the fear that would run in her veins from being in her position just from nearly two years ago.

“I understand.” You whispered in her ear.

“How am I going to tell grandma? Uncle Earskell? Arvin?! He’s goin’ to be mad!”

“That’s true.”

She cried harder from your response.

“We’re young. We’re supposed to enjoy our youth while we can and having a child is a big responsibility for someone who’s not even an adult herself.”

“What if the Russells throw me away? I have no family no more, Y/N!” She hiccuped.

“Hey.” You comfortingly rubbed a hand on her back. “They certainly won’t take it easy at first but they’re your family. They won’t be able to resist their Lenora. I witnessed myself how they truly cared for you like their own blood, especially Arvin. They’ll understand.”

Lenora’s tight arms around you loosen a bit, her sobs calming down, but you continued to rub her back.

When you were in her position, you had no friend to comfort you. All those close to you, you were afraid of telling. You knew how someone like Lenora needed somebody, even if it was just an embrace.

“For what it’s worth, your family,” You emphasized the last two words before proceeding. “Took me in with open arms without question. A girl they have never met before until she came knocking on their door, knocked up. What more you?”

A snicker came from her which put up a smile on your face. She rose to level with your face. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Remember, you have been with me for the most vulnerable months of my life? And I will be with you. Even in your strongest. That goes without saying.”

A genuine smile finally crept on her face, eyes chinking — your favorite kind. You discreetly let out a sigh of relief and mentally pat yourself on the back. It wasn’t a lot but you’re glad she somehow felt relieved.

“You welcomed me in your life. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

“That’s comfortin’ to know.”

“Good.” You pulled her on your chest once more as the two of you shared a chuckle.

“Hey! What’s takin’ you so long?” Arvin’s head poked from your side of the tree.

You felt Lenora wiped her cheeks dry in your arms before pulling away and flashed Arvin a smile like nothing happened.

Arvin forwarded then stepped between the two of you two squeeze in, making a room of herself. His left arm draping over Lenora’s shoulder, his right grabbing your waist to pull you closer.

“Seems like the two of you havin’ serious talk, what’s it about?” He arched a brow.

Lenora’s sudden wide eyes met with yours. You rewarded her a meaningful smile.

“It’s nothing.” You chirped then looked away.

“Oh, you’re keepin’ secrets from me now?” His eyes darted from you to Lenora then back at you again. Then tickled your side, making your squeal and squirm.

Lenora sniffled then pulled Arvin’s ear toward her. “We’re just happy the family’s gettin’ bigger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean—Wait, are you pregnant?”

You and Lenora froze in your spot but quickly recovered when Arvin turned to you.

“No!” You said quite defensively, pinching his side.

“Darn it!” He remarked jokingly then pulled the both of you in an embrace and gifting you each a kiss on the forehead.

A/N: requests are temporarily closed! still squeezing my brain to write the ones in my inbox 

#arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell x you #arvin russell fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #lenora laferty

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Yo! Wassup? I read far away today and boy is it awesome like you totally slay as sis .. btw when is part 2 coming ? Not tryna rush you or anything.. Take your time

Far too long - P. Parker (Part 2)

Read Part 1 here

ITS HERE AND I’M SUPER NERVOUS. I FEEL LIKE I RUSHED THE ENDING BUT I ALSO FEEL LIKE IT WOULD BE A FLURRY OF PENT UP WORDS AND EMOTIONS. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT AND IF ITS BAD THEN LMK AND ILL APOLOGISE SINCERELY BECAUSE I’M SCARED OF THIS HAHAHA

(gif is not mine)

TW: Mentions of blood, grief, injury, abandonment, fear, angst, childbirth. If any of these themes may trigger you then, please, do not read for your own good. Your wellbeing is far more important.

My inbox is always open.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

It would be a lie to say that Peter hadn’t been in horrible situations before. However, with the development of his powers came the growth of thicker skin and stronger shoulders to bear the weight of his choices and others.

He fought, day after day, to withstand everything life threw at him. Heartache, mistakes, the one time he frosted the tips of his hair when he was 12 - Y/N knew that he would be alright.

He had to be alright. He had to be alive. She needed him. They needed him.

Y/N had watched him grow as a man, and watched him overcome everything. Then he was finally hers. She had everything she had ever wanted in him, and she was going to bring new life into the world with him by her side, until the missions came between them.

Now, she had been away from him for over 2 months and he was missing in action. Every news station was reporting that he was gone, but she refused to accept it. She knew Peter. She knew the strength he had. She knew that no matter what, he wanted to be a part of his baby’s life.

The minute she saw the broadcast her shaking fingers dialed Tony’s number and he was there to take her to the compound as soon as he could be.

Another three months passed.

Three agonizing months.

She gave birth in the medical bay of the compound, May by her side, welcoming her daughter into the world with a broken heart

Rosie May Parker was welcomed into the world, but the one person who was meant to be there wasn’t. She had her fathers eyes, his ferocious brown curls - but she didn’t have her father.

Y/N didnt have much knowledge of science outside of her computer mechanics degree, nor did she have any means to be a powerful superhero like the avengers, but she had fierce determination. Tony had ordered her to stay at the compound until they found peter - he was also determined that his faux-son would be okay.

Y/N harbored no intentions of leaving, more so, now that Rosie had joined her. May was there as well, watching Y/N fall in love with the small child over and over again, every day, helping where she could.

It was when they neared the day that her daughter would turn two months old, that it all happened.

Y/N had taken up residency in the lab. She was a computer science major at university, and she was able to pick up the workings of the technology Tony and Bruce utilized to keep track of mission data and surveillance measures for MIA operatives. She had spent nearly every day that she had been there inspecting every program, every website, keeping track on news outlets.

The world said that Peter was dead, but she refused to give up. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. Spider-Man wouldn’t submit.

If her eyes weren’t glued to a screen, they were on her daughter, both keeping her connection to peter alive. She monitored his Karen program for any inconsistencies, any sign that the program was online.

Karen had been offline for so long. The minute the building went down on Peter, the only thing letting Y/N and Tony know that he was alive was gone with it.

Rosie would sleep soundly in a bassinet set up next to her chair. There was a strain in Y/N’s head that hadn’t waned for weeks. Each day her head felt heavier, the harsh blue lights from the computers creating a constant reminder of her naive determination.

She was beginning to consider the possibility that he was gone, but something always made her thoughts shift in the other direction whenever the idea graced her cortex.

Her days had been filled with bouts of despondency, but the small babe that she cradled against her chest throughout the day brought light back into her life.

But still, nothing

Not until that day.

Rosie was sleeping in her crib I’m their room, recently fed, changed and cuddled - Friday monitoring the baby in all of the ways that the baby monitor she had with her couldn’t. The clock had just hit 2:38am and her eyes were heavy. She considered submitting to the crushing weight of her exhaustion, until Tony burst into the laboratory with Bruce and Natasha in tow, the woman suited up and heading towards the hallway leading to the quinjet hangar.

“Tony?” Y/N blinked, eyes darting to the baby monitor to determine if the commotion was linked to her daughter. Rosie hadn’t moved, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce had rushed over to the computer she was sat at, rebooting various programs that Y/N could barely recognize in her bleary state.

A vein in Tony’s forehead protruded - a clear sign that his stress levels were at a high. Bruce had been attempting to monitor his blood pressure as of late, knowing that his anxiety had been peaking with the disappearance of two of his team members.

Y/N had felt a overwhelming sense of duty to the man who had taken her in. She wanted to calm him, help ease his worries as he had done for her. He was as much family to her as he was to Peter.

His brown eyes were frantic, but there was something else hidden in the warm irises that seemed constantly framed by bloodshot sclera. Hope.

“Take off in 30, Nat.” Bruce spoke through an earpiece, connecting directly to the quinjet she assumed the Russian was boarding.

Y/N focused her gaze entirely on Tony, rising to her feet carefully and stepping towards him slowly, as one would a spooked animal.

The minute she was within arms reach, his hands were grasping her shoulders. There was no pressure under his hands, but there was comfort. “A few minutes ago, a transmission came through.” Y/N felt her eyes widen, mind racing with possibilities. The smile she received from the older man told her everything she needed to know before the words left his lips. “Pete came though. He’s with Barton, they’re safe. Romanoff’s on her way to pick them up.”

Y/N was in disbelief, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “The building,” she breathed. “It came down on them-“

“The kid will explain when he gets here.” His hands moved to her cheeks. “He’s coming home, Y/N. For the most part, he’s alright. I got his vitals from the Karen program and he is stable, may need some work when he gets home, but he is okay, physically.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, running down Tony’s fingers but he paid it no mind. The smile that split his face was enough of a pardon.

It was another two hours until the familiar sound of the quinjet hangar opening graced her ears.

Bruce had ordered her to get some rest while they waited, but she opted to spend the time watching her daughter. Rosie had woken for a feed, but her big brown eyes stared up at her mother with a knowing look. Y/N could do little to push down the excitement of Peter’s return, but the overwhelming fear quickly resurfaced.

They left on horrible terms. They were no longer a couple, nor did she have the chance to take back the horrible things she said about his faithfulness to their family dynamic. But there was a lingering part of her mind that pushed her to think he would want nothing to do with them.

She left her room, placing a kiss to Rosie’s forehead and asking Friday to keep a watch of the baby, clipping the monitor to her waistband and rushing for the laboratory.

She arrived in time to see the compound medical staff trailing alongside a stretcher, Barton sprawled on it with a smirk on his face and an IV cannula in his arm.

Moments later she saw him.

He looked as much a mess as he felt, he knew so. Soot and dirt coating his skin and his suit, his leg aggravated and aching from an incorrectly set break. He hadn’t expected to see her face, but when he did, it felt as if a building was falling down on him once again.

She caught his eyes darting down to her stomach then back to her face. She smiled at him softly with a nod, hoping he could grasp her meaning across the meters between them.

She hadn’t the chance to say a word to him, nor he to her. Bruce led him to the medbay, offering support where he could for the pain in Peter’s leg, and Tony went to Y/N, cradling her as the pent up grief escaped through her eyes. She wanted to follow after him, so badly.

Tony held her against his chest, sharing the grief that had been building over the months. They were beginning to think they had lost Peter, but to see him alive and standing in front of them - it was overwhelming for both.

“I, uhm,” Tony cleared his throat, his voice wet from tears. “I’m gonna go help Bruce out. I’ll send for you when he’s all fixed up. I promise.”

With a nod of her head, Y/N let him go.

Minutes after, Friday alerted her that Rosie was awake and she took her leave to sit with her baby.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she cradled the babe to herself. She had decided that even if Peter didn’t want to see her, she would at least hand Rosie over to Tony to introduce father and daughter. Despite her previous words, she just knew that Peter would be entirely smitten with the small human, just as much as she was.

As such, it came as a surprise when Friday chimed through her P.A. System requesting her presence at the medbay.

Her feet shuffled to stop at the door for the room they were in before she knew it, and Tony had opened the door to allow her entrance. He and Bruce took their leave, allowing the former lovers to have the space to themselves.

Peter felt the air drain from his lungs and he looked at her. He had sat up on the bed, leg bandaged and healing at an accelerated rate now that it had been set correctly. He was bruised and battered but he still smiled wider than he had in so long when he saw her and the small bundle she cradled.

She was the first to speak, “You’re alive.” Her voice was choked. The past months had been hard on him, but he couldn’t imagine the pain she felt thinking he was dead. Especially when they left things so horribly.

“The building... it wasn’t meant to go down like that,” he sighed, his smile shrinking. “I took most of the brunt because I can handle more than Clint. But we managed to get out and get our target... eventually.”

His eyes were darting to the bundle in her arms, but he didn’t dare to say anything about he baby. At this point, he didn’t even know his baby’s name.

Y/N noticed his gaze, and the unspoken question that his eyes held. Without warning, she took a seat next to him on the bed, unwrapping Rosie and placing her in Peter’s arms. She silently adjusted his hands to ease his fear and discomfort in holding an infant, and she could see the emotion forming in his chocolate orbs.

“Her name is Rosie.” Y/N whispered, eyes stuck on her daughter. “Rosie May Parker.”

“You named her after ‘Love, Rosie’,” he smiled, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He had a daughter, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“It’s my favourite book. Two best friends who fell apart, only to come together and repeat it until they could finally be together.” Her fingers fiddled in her lap, picking at her cuticles. Her body was alight with nerves, her toes electric within her boots. “And I had to name her after May. She’s the only mother I have.”

“Rosie,” he tried the name on his tongue, noticing the way the baby scrunched her nose in her sleep. Her mother did the same thing.

Y/N sighed deeply, breathing out through her nose as she held back tears. “Peter, I’m so -“

“You have nothing to apologise for, Y/N.” He ran his finger over Rosie’s cheek. So soft, scared to stir her from her sleep. “Everything that happened, happened because of me.”

“Peter-“

“My list of discretions are unending. What kind of fiancé was I?” He let a soft chuckle fall from his lips, a humorless one, soaked from the sob he refused to let rip from his chest. “What kind of father was I? Who did I think I was, to keep you waiting on me, day after day. Every important event, I missed.”

“I never meant to say those things to you, Pete. To accuse you of not loving me, not wanting to be a father... it was uncalled for. But,” she sniffed, turning her head upwards to gaze at the ceiling. “I felt so alone. And then, you left, and I was alone.”

After what felt like eternity, his eyes met her face. Her skin was blotchy from tears, eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen, apart from the angel in his arms. He felt almost complete, with the two girls by his side. His heart hurt a little less.

“I know. I’m probably the biggest jackass on the face of the planet, and I know that I can most likely do nothing to change that. It’s far too late for me to even begin to say the things I have wanted to say, but I can’t stand the thought of another day without telling you what’s been on my mind since the minute I left.” His body shuddered with a heavy breath, his lips kissing the small fist that rose towards his mouth as Rosie stretched in her sleep. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Every second I was away, I wanted nothing more than to run home and apologize for every disgusting thing I had said to you, to put my hands on your belly and promise our baby that I would never leave either of you.

“Then the building went down. I helped Clint get out, but I was stuck there for a few days. Some of our operatives were working as hard as they could to find a way to clear the debris so I could go, but it took a while. The entire time, I had convinced myself that I would never be able to see you again. It was like, like, I knew, that I couldn’t breathe until I saw you again.”

Her hand moved slowly, resting against his cheek to thumb away a tear that trailed his smooth skin.

“I didn’t know how many months had passed while I was gone, but when I got out from under the building, I realized that you were all alone to have our baby.” The sob finally broke through his chest. “I left you all alone. The small little baby that would see the world for the first time without their father.” He rubbed the side of his face onto his shoulder to not drop tears onto Rosie. “I’m a horrible father. I was so horrible to you.”

His breaths were staggered, and Y/N took the baby from his arms holding her against her own chest as she pressed her body to his side. Her free hand turned his face toward her own, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing rhythmically.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise you,” he caught the way her hand tightened on his arm as he spoke. She was terrified of losing him again. “I would do anything, anything at all, to have you forgive me, but if you can’t then I understand. Just don’t make me leave your life, please.”

She felt her breath hitch, “I said horrible things to you. I told you to never come back, but I can’t stand another day without you. I need you here, with us. We need you Peter, like I told you all those months ago.” She felt his lips kiss the palm of her hand, the same one she used to brush away his tears. “I love you so much, and I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”

He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips pouting from the strength it took to resist pressing his mouth on hers. He didn’t know if she would welcome the contact. He had done her wrong.

“I’m not leaving you anymore, baby. I’m not leaving either of you, ever again.”

Y/N knew that Peter would be alright. His resilience was unmatched, his love ferocious. Y/N had began to think she would never see him again, but the image of him perched in front of her, eyes locked on the child that looked so much like him was one that she would never forget.

The tears falling were no longer out of fear, or sadness, or anger. Her tears fell out of love and happiness. She had the final piece of her family back, and she would do everything she could to see the two people in front of her smile.

“I’ve been far away, for far too long, baby. I’m never leaving you again. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you and Rosie. I’ll make you Mrs. Parker and buy a house in the suburbs and do everything boring house husbands do,” Y/N snickered, forehead still against his. Peter was rambling, but she knew she would never force him to give up what he loves, so long as he came home to his two girls at the end of the day. “I will love you, both, until the day I die and beyond that.”

She leaned her head forward slowly, allowing him to reject her intentions, but when he didn’t, she poured her emotions from the last half year into the kiss. The love, the fear, the anger, the uncertainty.

When they broke apart, one thing was on her lips, “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Tag List: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @another-lonely-heart

@uwucorpse @timeless-crow @eridanuswave @prettysbliss @amydancypants @allycat449-blog

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland x reader #marvel #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #far away part 2 #far away #caz writes

[stolen-pen-name23]

Can you do 15 with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan? Thanks!

Hello Anon! Of course, I can! Thank you for the prompt // from these prompts. Prompts are open for now, but it will take me a while to get to all of them since I have about 20 sitting in my inbox at the moment oops.

Once again, I lack self-control. Here's 2.4k words on Ao3 or you can read the whole thing below the cut! Here ya go:

---

Please just shut up.

The stray thought was locked behind Obi-Wan’s shields, but he still felt bad for having it. It was not the senator’s fault that Obi-Wan’s head felt like it was being beaten rhythmically by a hammer.

Still, the senator droned on and on and his baritone voice reverberated through Obi-Wan’s head. He just wanted this mission to be over already.

He straightened and ignored the sideways glance Qui-Gon was aiming at him.

Obi-Wan tried to pay attention to the peace talks. He really did. But the fluorescent lights were blinding and even keeping his eyes open was a torturous experience.

Qui-Gon nudged against his shields — a question without the tangible form of words, but after the past few years of working with him, Obi-Wan knew exactly what he was asking.

He gave an imperceptible nod, assuring his Master that he’s alright. Or he will be. At least, he’ll be alright for now. He can complete the mission, which was all that really mattered anyway.

Obi-Wan told himself all of these things, though he was not finding himself all the convincing.

The words that were volleyed back and forth throughout the talks might as well have been in a different language for all Obi-Wan was able to glean from them. So lost was he, that he didn’t realize the senators were clearing out until Qui-Gon was gently squeezing his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Obi-Wan?” he asked quietly.

“Are we done here?” Obi-Wan asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“No, not quite. The senators are taking a break before the final vote.”

“Oh.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Qui-Gon asked. Concern was evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said.

“You’re not. But if you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong, I’m not going to argue with you.”

Irritation cast itself from Qui-Gon’s side of their bond. Obi-Wan felt the pinpricks of shame color his cheeks. “I’m fine…” he murmured. “Just a little dizzy.”

The irritation vanished and was replaced with worry.

“I’ll fetch a healer.”

“No!” Obi-Wan said, his voice echoing loudly through the conference room. He tried to ignore the stares of the senators that lingered in the room. “No,” he whispered. “It’s not bad. It’s just a migraine. I can handle it.”

Qui-Gon hummed, his eyes scanning Obi-Wan’s body, looking for any indication that he was lying, or hiding parts of the truth. Seemingly finding nothing else amiss, he nodded. “Why don’t you go back to our room and rest? I’ll be there soon.”

“I can stay!” Obi-Wan insisted. “I can complete the mission.”

“The mission is already complete Padawan,” Qui-Gon said gently. “All we have left is the vote, which you do not have to be present for.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said again. He weighed his desire to be the dutiful Padawan against his desire to go lie down in a dark, silent room.

“Go,” Qui-Gon urged as if he could sense Obi-Wan weighing his options. “Get some rest, Obi-Wan.”

Decision made, Obi-Wan nodded. He regretted the motion as it sent his head spinning, but he steadied himself and made his way for the exit with his head held high and his shoulders straight.

As soon as he was in the empty hallway, he let the guise fall away. His shoulders slumped and his paces became uneven and unsure. He certainly hoped he was walking towards the guest rooms, but he could not be sure.

Ornate statues and billowing tapestries decorated every winding hallway he turned down. He would have liked to have stopped and admired the art were it not for the splitting headache and all-consuming dizziness. Every footstep he took seemed to reverberate through his whole body and pain echoed through every nerve ending.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t see. His vision was tunneling and his stomach was turning and then he was falling, falling, falling down to the cold, marble floor.

The air fled his lungs at the shock of the impact and he gasped pathetically on the floor.

Get up.

His body did not obey his commands. Even if he did get up, Obi-Wan was forced to admit to himself that he was completely and thoroughly lost. He had no idea if he was going in the right direction or if he was even in the correct wing.

He did not know where he was.

It was quite embarrassing for a Jedi to be lost, Obi-Wan thought to himself. Normally, he would just follow his intuition, but his intuition was drowned underneath every wave of agony that crashed into him.

Get up.

Placing a palm on the cool tile, Obi-Wan tried to force himself to his feet, but everything was spinning. His shaky arms gave out and he fell hard back onto the floor.

He lay there, defeated. He couldn’t get up. He couldn’t do anything except feel everything.

A familiar voice, though it sounded more concerned than usual, was calling his name. The voice echoed from hallways away.

“Master,” Obi-Wan responded weakly. His voice did not carry like Qui-Gon’s, and the calling continued.

“Obi-Wan!” A pause, like he was awaiting a response. “Obi-Wan!”

“Master?” Obi-Wan called out again, his voice gaining a small amount of strength at the prospect of being found.

Footsteps thundered towards him and he curled up into a tight ball, covering his ears with his hands. The footsteps slowed and quieted.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said breathlessly. Warm hands were pulling at his own, pulling them away from his face, and Obi-Wan blinked up at Qui-Gon.

“Master? Where are we?”

“We’re in the western wing. What are you doing out here anyway? I told you to go to the room.”

“Tried to go to the room,” Obi-Wan said. “Couldn’t find it.”

“Yes, it seems you took a wrong turn somewhere, Padawan.”

“Didn’t know what way.”

“Clearly,” Qui-Gon said. “When I went to the room and you weren’t there…. Well, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Guilt only added to the nausea roiling in Obi-Wan’s stomach. “‘m sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright, I’ve found you.”

“Don’t feel good.”

This time, Qui-Gon was the one to look guilty. “Come on, Padawan. Let’s get you to bed.”

Before Obi-Wan could respond or even try to get up on his own again, he was being lifted into the air. He squeezed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the spinning. “Don’t… don’t feel good,” he repeated, sounding like a youngling to his own ears, but no longer caring.

“I know, Padawan,” Qui-Gon soothed. “We’re almost there. You’ll be okay.”

“Hurts. My… my head...”

“I know. We’re almost there,” Qui-Gon repeated.

“Too old,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Are you actually calling me old right now?” Qui-Gon asked incredulously.

“No, no. Me. I’m too old. Fifteen. Too old to be carried around.”

“Hush. You are a padawan, my padawan, and you are ill. I will carry you as long as you need to be carried.”

“Still too old,” Obi-Wan muttered.

When they made it to their room, Qui-Gon gave him the dignity of standing on his own two feet while he unlocked the door.

Obi-Wan staggered into the room, Qui-Gon close to his side.

“What do you need, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I need…” Obi-Wan cut himself off as the nausea he’d been ignoring made itself known. He put a hand over his mouth and stumbled to the refresher. Collapsing to his knees, he leaned over the toilet and threw up the contents of his stomach.

Qui-Gon hovered over him like a shadow, unable to do anything except be there. Obi-Wan was grateful for that at least.

When he was done, Obi-Wan slumped over on the tile. He was getting quite sick of tile floors, though the cool temperature did feel nice on his forehead.

He felt Qui-Gon’s presence get farther away and he chanced a glance over to where he had been. “Master?”

Obi-Wan lay there, weakened and helpless, on the ground. Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he waited for but he closed his eyes and then opened them to see Qui-Gon crouched down by him, holding a change of clothes in hand.

“Here,” Qui-Gon said. “Get into something more comfortable and then you can get some sleep.”

“A’right,” Obi-Wan slurred, taking the soft sleep tunics in hand.

Qui-Gon left him alone again and Obi-Wan slowly, painfully eased his way into the fresh tunics. He shuffled out of the fresher, where Qui-Gon was waiting for him before he could fall over again.

He didn’t realize he had been picked up again until he was being set down in the plush bed.

“Thanks, Master,” Obi-Wan mumbled as his body finally let him get the healing rest it so badly needed.

****

Obi-Wan awoke to a dim room with a cool, wet rag on his forehead. He blinked tiredly and rubbed his eyes.

“You’re awake,” Qui-Gon observed plainly.

“How… how long was I asleep?”

“About 16 hours.”

“What?!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, sitting up quickly in bed. The wet rag dropped into his lap. His head spun at the quick movement, but after a moment, he realized the pain was not as intense as before.

“Easy, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, gently pushing him back down. “You have not missed anything important.”

“We… we were supposed to go home,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yes, well, I didn’t want to put you through more travel, given the state you were in, and the government of this planet was kind enough to give us another two days in their senate guest quarters.”

“Oh, well I can go now. I’m feeling better. We don’t have to—”

“We can wait a little longer, Padawan. You may not feel as bad as you did, but you are still unwell. I can sense it.”

“I’m okay,” Obi-Wan said but there was no fight behind the words.

“I know. But there’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to rest when we need one.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks flushed and he broke eye contact with Qui-Gon. They sat together in silence — Obi-Wan staring out into space and Qui-Gon messing with the sleeve of his robe.

“You’ve gotten taller,” Qui-Gon mused, looking back up at Obi-Wan.

“Have I?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes, you have. Heavier too. You’re much harder to carry around these days.”

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said sheepishly. “I could have walked.”

“Oh really? Is that why I found you laying on the ground then?”

“I just needed a moment,” Obi-Wan said, feeling defensive.

“You needed more than that, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands. He nervously ran his fingers along the seam of the blanket. It was blue and soft, and from the looks of it, expensive. Though it was made of a fine textile, it lacked the comfort and familiarity of his own bed with his own blankets, but it served its purpose well enough. Still, Obi-Wan wanted to go home more than he wanted almost anything else.

“This was a bad one wasn’t it?” Qui-Gon asked, breaking the silence between them.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly.

“They’ve been getting worse,” Qui-Gon observed.

It was true. Obi-Wan’s migraines had gone from random occurrences to routine events. They were always unpleasant, but this one was particularly debilitating.

“I… I think it’s because… well…” Obi-Wan trailed off.

“Because of what?”

Obi-Wan bit his lip. He didn’t want to say it. Saying it would make it real. Putting words to the images that plague his mind would lend validity to them — empower them. Obi-Wan just wanted to bury them.

“Tell me, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said.

“I’ve been having dreams… visions I think.”

Qui-Gon straightened. “Visions?”

“I… I don’t know. I think so.”

“Tell me about them,” Qui-Gon urged. “We can work through them together.”

Tears pricked Obi-Wan’s eyes but he blinked them away.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon said. “Please, maybe I can help you.”

“Can you make them stop?” Obi-Wan asked. It was a childish ask, he knew, but he had to ask.

“No,” Qui-Gon said. “But I can help you try to understand them. I can help you meditate through them.”

This was not the answer Obi-Wan was looking for. He tried to rein his disappointment in behind his shields. He wanted them to just go away. But nothing was ever that simple for Obi-Wan.

“I see such terrible things,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice cracking on the words. “Awful, terrible things.”

“Visions can be misleading, Padawan. Don’t put your faith in them.”

“What am I supposed to put my faith in?”

“The Force.”

“The Force is what gives me these visions,” Obi-Wan argued.

“And if your visions come to pass, you have to have faith that the Force will guide you through them.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to go through them at all.”

“And perhaps you won’t,” Qui-Gon said. “The future is in motion. You need to focus on what is around you — not that which is ahead.” He was so sure — so sure that the Force would help him chart his course, that his convictions began to ease Obi-Wan’s tired mind ever so slightly.

Even still, he clung to some of his doubts.

“It’s hard.” It was a lame response, Obi-Wan knew, but it was the only one he had.

“No one ever said the path of a Jedi was a simple one.” The familiar glint in Qui-Gon’s eye appeared — shining with the strength of his faith.

Obi-Wan tried to smile at that, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Guess not.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happens in your visions,” Qui-Gon said after a pause. “But if you ever want to, I promise I will do my best to help you through them. As a Jedi, you are never alone.”

“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan said, swallowing thickly.

Obi-Wan didn’t like keeping things from his Master, but there was no way he was going to tell him about all the dark and terrible things he has been seeing flash behind his eyes. He was not going to tell him about the way he wakes up sweating and panting in the dead of night as though he had just been running for his life. He was not going to tell him the way he had mastered silent cries of despair so as not to pull Qui-Gon from his sleep. He was not going to tell him that in his visions, he is older, yes, but not old enough.

No. Much too young.

How could Obi-Wan tell him? How could he tell him about the visions that, if they were to come true, would mean that Qui-Gon would not have much longer to keep his promise?

He can’t tell him. He can’t.

If Obi-Wan kept his visions to himself, if he did not speak them into existence, then maybe, just maybe, his darkest dreams would remain just that: dreams.

#thanks for the prompt! #my writing #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn

[mianavs]

coming to conclusions

part 9 of Cathexis

a/n: hiiii i’ve been working on this update and haven’t done much else lol. it’s a long update but i didn’t want to split it. after this ill work on the stuff in my inbox :)

wc: 4.1k+

Cathexis

Expecting the unexpected was a concept that had been engrained into your psyche at a young age. It saved you countless of times during missions and only improved over time—at least until that fateful meeting with Illumi. Since then, your actions grew erratic and the precautions you once took when dealing with the unknown were forgotten. When it came to Illumi, you were a reckless mess and it was that recklessness that led to your current situation—Illumi’s lips pressed against yours.

Maybe it was the adrenaline that coursed through your veins whenever Illumi was nearby. Or perhaps it was your inexperience in all things carnal. Whatever the reason, you didn’t reject his kiss and instead tilted your head to give him ease of access to your mouth.

Illumi’s kiss was paradoxical.

Unlike his cold cut-throat self, Illumi’s lips were gentle and almost hesitant against yours. He took his time caressing, nipping, and sucking on your lips until they tingled with numbness. It wasn’t until you let out a whimper that Illumi’s warm tongue delved into your mouth and languidly tasted every crevice, clouding your mind with desire.

The low groan that erupted from his throat and reverberated in your conjoined mouths was what snapped you out of your hazy state of mind to reality. Your hands traveled up Illumi’s chest and gently pushed him away until the clear strand of saliva connecting the two of you broke.

“We can’t,” you panted and you couldn’t help but notice his parted swollen lips, labored breathing, and the dust of pink on his cheeks. Illumi looked beautiful and that realization alone frightened you enough to tear your gaze away from him.

“Is it because of Hisoka?” The accusatory tone threw you off.

“Wha- no!” You blurted out in disbelief. “Why are you even bringing him up?”

Illumi’s hand took you by the chin and forced you to face him. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling as he scrutinized your face and you tore away from his grasp as soon as you could.

“Forget it. I’ll let you rest.” He stated, any remnant of emotion stripped from his voice.

As Illumi stood up and sauntered to the door, your mouth opened with a protest on the tip of your tongue but your sense of judgement returned, effectively killing the words on the spot.

If Illumi resented you for rejecting him, he didn’t show it when he visited the next morning with Canary in tow. As the young butler fed you your medicine and helped you with your physical therapy, the weight of Illumi’s eyes made you wish he’d been upset enough to avoid you.

But that wasn’t Illumi and the assassin escorted you to a greenhouse in a corner of the Zoldyck mansion where a breakfast for two was set up. Breathing in the fresh air and admiring the beautiful flora around you was enough to take your mind off the previous night’s events. So when Illumi helped you take a seat on the wrought iron chair before taking his seat opposite you, any lingering awkwardness dissipated and all of your attention was on the plate of food in front of you.

After taking a couple bites, you turned your attention to the assassin in front of you and broke the comfortable silence to get any information you could about the world outside the mansion’s walls.

“How was your mission?”

“It went well. The target was eliminated.”

“Where was the job?” You asked, pushing the subject to see if it would take you where you wanted.

“York New,” Illumi then paused, narrowing his coal eyes slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious,” you took a sip of juice. “I’m just not used to being holed up in one place for too long.”

“Then just tell me.” He leaned forward and uncrossed his arms. “What do you want to know.”

You sighed knowing there would be no beating around the bush with Illumi. “The aftermath…of Saul’s death.”

Illumi quirked his head and furrowed his brow slightly as he thought over your words for a moment before the metaphorical light bulb went off in his head. “Ah- you want to know if your reputation is still in ruins.”

You winced at his harsh words but nodded, nonetheless. “I just want to know what awaits me when I go back.”

“It’s not what it used to be but his death definitely helped.” He paused for a second. “That mafia boss also did some damage control in your stead.”

“Who? Ruo Wen?” Illumi nodded before finishing the last bit of his breakfast.

The last time you’d been in contact with your last client, he’d merely confirmed your payment and wished you a speedy recovery but didn’t say anything beyond that. Ruo Wen wasn’t the type of person to go around doing favors for others without something in return, so you anticipated that the next time he contacted you for a job there would be no denying him.

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” you admitted, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. “I’ll be able to get some work.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you married me,” he suggested and memories of the night before flooded your mind.

“I-I can’t-” There was an edge to your voice as you scrambled to come up with an excuse.

“But you eventually will so why not get it over with.” Illumi pushed and you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until you gave him an answer

“Because! I-” You took a deep breath to steady yourself. “I’m in no rush to get married. I need to help my parents as much as I can and I’d like to enjoy whatever time I have left being single.”

The assassin remained silent and you decided to get some answers for yourself. “Why did you kiss-”

An unfamiliar presence in the greenhouse caused you and Illumi to turn in the direction where it came from. It was Illumi who recognized the intruder first and called out to them.

“What are you doing here, Kil?”

Silver hair emerged from the greenery and you smiled at the sight of Killua, your preferred Zoldyck. The young boy looked surprised to see Illumi and visibly tensed when Illumi stood up, simultaneously emitting the faintest hint of bloodlust.

“Canary said Y/N was in here…” Killua stopped when Illumi took a couple of steps towards him. Seeing him in action, you were reminded of the type of person Illumi Zoldyck was and your convoluted feelings towards him sorted themselves out.

“That’s enough, Illumi.” You reached out and held his wrist in a vice-like grip.

“He interrupted us,” Illumi deadpanned

“No, we’re done here.” Was your pointed reply before releasing his wrist. “I want to spend time with Killua.”

The slight tensing of his jaw was all you needed to confirm he wasn’t pleased with your declaration but you stood your ground until Illumi finally relented.

“I have a meeting with father so I’ll leave first.” Illumi turned to leave but not before addressing his brother. “Take care of her, Kil.”

Looking down at the forest from the top of Kukuroo mountain reminded you of home. The thin air and cool winds that tickled your face were so familiar you couldn’t believe it. All you had to do was close your eyes to picture the cliff your home sat upon and hear the waves of the sea crashing against it. Most of the memories you held near and dear to your heart involved diving off the cliff into the cool sea water with—

“Y/N!”

Immersed in your memories, you opened your eyes expecting to see your brother but found a worried Killua instead.

“It looked like you wanted to jump off.” He motioned to your hands gripping the balcony’s railing and your body leaning over.

“Ah-sorry! This just reminded me of the cliff back home. My little brother and I like to dive off of it into the sea.”

Stepping away from the balcony, you resumed walking the perimeter of the mansion. After being cooped up inside for so long, your readily accepted Killua’s tour of the Zoldyck family’s grounds and the two of you were just about finished.

“Illumi never mentioned you had a brother.

“Well he’s only eleven plus he hasn’t gotten his license yet.” Was your explanation although you doubted Illumi and the Zoldyck adults didn’t know about your baby brother given their profession and the relationship of your families.

“Is he also getting his when he turns thirteen?” There was a liveliness in his step and big blue eyes that reminded you of your brother. So as Killua matched your slower pace and waited for your reply, you found yourself caring about the middle Zoldyck sibling more than you’d ever anticipated.

“Yes, it’s our family’s tradition. In fact, I haven’t been able to see him lately because he’s been busy training.”

“Is the Hunter Exam that hard?”

You paused, thinking back on your experience, before you formulated your response. “It’s difficult for most adults with years of martial arts training so you can imagine how hard it must be for a kid. That being said, your family, like mine, doesn’t raise children normally so I’m sure if you ever decided to take the exam you would pass.”

The smile that spread across Killua’s face was infectious and you matched it with as much vigor and went so far as to ruffle his soft silver hair affectionately.

For the remainder of your stay at the Zoldyck mansion, you failed to cross paths with Illumi again. Upon returning to your room after spending the entire day with Killua, Canary informed you of Illumi’s departure for a long mission and the news came as a relief to your troubled mind.

You hoped that the time apart would serve to smother the flames of attraction Illumi’s kiss ignited.

Any further interaction with the Zoldycks—excluding Killua—was also avoided as most of them also embarked on missions of their own. The one’s left behind had been Kikyo, Milluki, and Killua which meant you weren’t summoned to any more awkward meals with the former two. For the last few days of your stay, you watched over Killua train for the upcoming Hunter Exam.

On your last day, you bid Killua and Canary farewell and trekked down the mountain debating where to go. York New was always a possibility but with your reputation the jobs would surely be difficult in your weakened state. Heaven’s Arena was also a possibility but the thought of crossing paths with a certain magician changed your mind. In the end, your weakened state and the time spent with Killua contributed to your destination—home.

A quick call to your mother confirmed your brother’s return home from his training trip and you looked forward to the time you’d spend together with him while regaining your strength. On the way to Padokea’s capital airport, you stopped by a souvenir shop to look for a gift for your brother. It was a fun little tradition in your family to bring souvenirs to him after returning home from missions, and as far as you knew, your parents hadn’t stepped foot onto Padokea ever since that event almost nineteen years ago.

A miniature version of Kukuroo Mountain on a shelf caught your eye and, after checking the price, you picked it up and took to the front. As the cashier rang you up, your phone rang with an unknown number lighting up your screen. You answered it immediately thinking it was a potential client but Illumi spoke instead.

“What did you tell him?” It was faint but you could hear the vexation in his voice.

“Tell who?”

“Killua ran away from home after injuring Mother and Milluki and I think you have something to do with it.”

You scoffed in disbelief before shutting down his accusation. “I didn’t tell Killua to attack your mother and brother. He was curious about the Hunter Exam so he probably left to take it.”

A harsh, derisive laugh filled your ear as you took your gift and stormed out of the shop. “Only a few days and you already filled his mind with foolish notions.”

“And what’s so bad about Killua becoming a hunter?”

“He’s not cut out to be a hunter. He was raised to be an assassin and cannot stray from that path.” Illumi answered, as if the reason had been obvious all along.

“He’s just a kid and deserves to have a say in what he wants to do.” You replied firmly, remembering the excited expression on Killua’s face during training. “He can work as a hunter just as well-”

“Of course an outsider like you wouldn’t understand. The Zoldyck name is synonymous with assassins. The heir can’t possibly be hunter instead.”

Illumi spoke to you like a child and if there was one thing you hated most it was being belittled. You’d been plagued by it during your rookie years and refused to go through the same thing again—even if it came from a dangerous man like Illumi.

“You’re right, Illumi, an outsider like me will never understand the inner workings of the Zoldyck family so maybe this engagement shouldn’t take place.”

Ending the call before Illumi could reply, you took a couple deep breaths before making your way to the airport now more eager than ever to return home and escape the madness that was Illumi Zoldyck.

Unlike your previous visit home, you took your time passing through the small town near your home. It was a small town that mostly profited off fishing. Many of the grounds people that worked at your home belonged to families that had lived in town for generations. Such was the case, the people that waved as you passed by were familiar to you and they knew you as well.

“Y/N!”

The distinct raspy voice from behind you sure enough turned out to be Jakob, a fisherman and the son of your family’s cook. He was a couple years older than you but the two of you grew up together and he’d been the one to teach you how to swim.

“Long time no see, Jakob! How’ve you been? How’s Petra?”

“I’m hanging in there,” Jakob grinned and held out a wooden box to you. “Petra’s six months pregnant, you see.”

You took the box and found it to be heavy and smelled like fish. “Oh congratulations! I can’t believe it’s already been a year since your marriage. You better be treating her well, Jakob.”

“I know, I know.” He replied with a roll of his eyes. “By the way, take that to my dad so he can cook it up for you and your brother. It’s from today’s catch.”

A peak into the box confirmed your suspicion and you recognized it as your brother’s favorite.

“Thanks,” you replied and closed the box. “Do you know what it’ll be?”

“The baby? It’s a girl. We found out last week.” He admitted with the biggest-shit eating grin you’d ever seen.

“She will be spoiled rotten by the two of you and your dad!” You laughed imagining old man Olvar playing with his granddaughter. “I don’t know much about kids but I’ll be sure to prepare a gift for her.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” and Jakob paused. “What about you? When are you settling down and having a family of your own?”

Jakob’s words triggered the memory of your first conversation with Illumi and you shuddered remembering his expectations of a wife.

“Not anytime soon,” you replied, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory. “Well, I should really head up now. Say hi to Petra for me!” And with that, you said goodbye to your childhood friend and continued the trek up to your family’s home.

Passing the last home in the outskirts of town, the paved road ended and the dirt road that led all the way to your home began. The incline was quite steep but after years of climbing, you hardly noticed it. Besides, the scenery that surrounded it served as a distraction. To your left was a thick coniferous forest that stretched for miles inland and supplied the town with plenty of lumber and game. On the right was the cliff’s edge and the crashing waves of the sea below. You could practically taste the salty sea water just from the wind itself as it blew past you, whipping your hair and causing goosebumps to form across the surface of your skin.

You wanted nothing more than to drop everything and jump into the chilling waters below. It was very tempting but you figured it would be more enjoyable with your brother so you picked up the pace.

No matter how many times you visited, the warm tickling sensation in your chest never failed to manifest when you stood on the front lawn and peered up at the imposing centuries-old structure. If there was one thing your grandfather did right, it was refurbishing the old family home. Electricity flowed through every corner of the house giving it the heat and lighting it needed while the new plumbing system gave adequate water supply to all of the bathrooms and kitchens. Therefore, while the outside walls gave off the appearance of an old fortress, the interior was as modernized as any home built in the last fifty years.

Upon entering, you instantly felt a presence following your every move and it only took a moment to realize who it was. Deciding to humor him, you took the wooden box and headed towards the kitchen waiting for your little brother to emerge.

After reaching the annex, a shadow to your right caught your eye but you were faster and avoided the small fist that whizzed past your right arm.

“Ugh, you noticed me didn’t you?” Your little brother pouted, relaxing his shoulders and stance.

“Nice to see you too, ” you grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. “And of course I did you were way too obvious.”

He slapped your hand away and patted down his hair before his eyes lit up at the sight of the wooden box and the gift bag you brought. “Are those for me?”

“Well I suppose they both technically are but the fish in the box is dinner. The bag is your souvenir from Padokea.”

You handed him the bag before picking up the box. “Now let’s take this to Olvar.”

By the time you settled in, it was dinner time and you joined your brother in the dining room. It was then that the two of you caught up since the last time you seen each other almost a year ago. You told your brother about your missions and the training you did but made sure to leave out any information about Illumi and the Zoldycks. It had been one of the conclusions you and your parents came to when discussing the debt’s repayment; your little brother would have nothing to do with it.

“So how was Padokea? I don’t think our parent’s have ever been there.”

“Lots of forests and mountains and the towns are nice.” Was your short reply and you steered the conversation towards your brother. “So how was training? Where did you go again?”

“Rokario,” He replied, stabbing a piece of fish with his fork but said nothing else to your surprise.

“Hmmm isn’t that near the NGL?” you commented. “I don’t think I’ve been to the Mitene Union.”

That last comment captured your brother’s attention and he stared at you wide-eyed. “Really?! You’ve never been there?”

For the remainder of the evening, your brother went told you everything he knew about Rokario, NGL, and the other neighboring countries. He spent a large amount of time discussing the people, flora, and fauna native only to that area of the known world. He also told you about the medicinal properties of different plants from treating a common cold to serving as a poison antidote. In the end, he didn’t tell you about his training but you figured you’d find out first-hand over the next few days.

Training was to a hunter as sunlight was to plants; it was vital to their growth. That was a fundamental that’d been passed down in your family and was engraved in you. So over the next few days when you observed your little brother’s movements and Nen strength, it became clearer that he’d slacked off in training. He was more than happy to help you out with your training but when it was his turn he’d get tired quickly and would leave to rest.

You debated when to address the issue and in the end decided to do it the day before you were set to leave. The two of you went swimming for hours before heading to shore and eating the food  Olvar had packed you.

“So…what happened,” you began taking a swig of water to wash down your food. “You’ve been slacking off during training.”

Panic flashed on your brother’s face before he looked away. “The thing is…I don’t think I want to be a hunter.”

“Wait, what? Not be a hunter?” You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. “We’re hunters, B/N. That’s just who we are. It’s family tradition!”

“I want to help people. I want to be a doctor. I want to go to school and be a normal kid!” Tears welled up in your brother’s eyes as he looked at you.

“O-okay, we can always just postpone taking the exam so you can go to school but-”

He stood up suddenly and shook his head, tears falling on the floor. “No! You don’t get it, Y/N! I don’t want to take the exam ever! I just want to do what I want to do, not what you, mom, and dad want me to do!”

With that, your brother darted towards the house leaving you dumbfounded and confused. Ever since he first started to talk, he’d always wanted to be a hunter like the rest of you. Your parents even had him start his training early since he’d follow you around anyway. Not to mention, he also had a natural talent when it came to martial arts and was strong—even before finding out he was an Enhancer.

That night, after dining alone, you tried to figure out what had changed your brother’s mind and concluded that something must have happened during his trip. The conversation you had with him regarding the trip came to mind and you remembered the animated way he told you about the people, animals, and plants. Your brother’s face when he told you about the different medicinal properties of plants came to mind. He looked so excited and proud of himself…almost like Killua when he was training with you for the Hunter Exam.

“Hah…”

The bitter realization that you’d acted just like Illumi was like a slap in the face. What right did you have to judge Illumi when here you were telling your brother he had to become a hunter? Once you came to that realization, you thought about Illumi’s reasoning behind not wanting Killua to stray from his path and wondered if it was similar to yours. You fell asleep late that night mulling over what you would tell your brother and whether you should apologize to Illumi.

The next morning, after packing a bag for your trip, you headed to your brother’s room and knocked on his door. You heard shuffling in his room after the first few knocks but he never opened the door, so you decided to talk anyway hoping he wasn’t too upset to ignore you.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s just you caught me off guard and I didn’t know how to react. You deserve to do what makes you happy and if that’s being a doctor then I’ll support you and we can talk to mom and dad about it when you’re ready. I would like for you to at least take the Hunter Exam, though. You don’t have to be hunter but it would be nice if you were licensed at least plus there’s a lot of benefits that come with it.”

You paused to see if he would open the door but you didn’t hear him move. “Well, I’m heading out now. Stay safe, okay?”

In the end, you weren’t able to see you brother again so you asked the grounds people and Olvar to look after him while your parents were away. Leaving home was always a melancholic event but this departure in particular was gloomier than usual. You wanted your brother to be happy but the family’s legacy remained steadfast in your mind.

With a sigh, you pulled out your phone. The number Illumi had called you from had been a payphone and you had no other means of contacting him, so you scrolled through your contacts until a particular name appeared on your glowing screen.

[Hisoka]

#illumi x reader #illumi fanfic #illumi x you #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh #hxh x you #illumi x y/n #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfiction #killua zoldyck #killua #slow burn #ongoing fic #navs.hxh #navs.cathexis

[glitter-x-gold]

requested: sarò la luce di sera (Måneskin)

requested by @/Sheruie on Archive of Our Own! (link on the blog!)

in which Cora doesn’t think she can do it anymore, but thankfully, there’s always family to show her that she can

@/Sheruie requested, here it is :)

Cora is a female character on this case, as an obvious reference to the song. However, how you perceive and interpret Cora is your own choice.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

- suicide attempt (nothing explicit, but still, implied)

~ * ~

Outside the hotel room, the night was dark and silent, the chilly breeze from the slightly opened window making Cora shiver slightly. She took a deep breath, followed by a sharp exhale, as she faced the unlabelled bottles that stood on the nightstand, at arm’s reach.

Some kind of dark, freezing void had taken over her chest, killing anything else, any other happy feeling that dared growing. It had been like that for weeks, maybe months, and she just didn’t believe there was any other way to live anymore. She just didn’t feel like she was strong enough to keep going. They certainly wouldn’t miss her much, right? No one wanted a broken someone, a person who could no longer put their own pieces back together, or at least pretend things were okay.

Laying abandoned on the bed, her phone buzzed, once, twice, the screen lighting up with unspoken urgency.Cora had told them she didn’t feel like going out that day.

Non mi va, raga’. Sono troppo stanca.

Ethan and Vic had respected her decision, though making sure she knew they’d come back running if she needed them; they had noticed how Cora hadn’t been herself for the past days. Maybe a little rest would help her get back on her feet. Thomas had kissed her forehead before going; a silent “Please be okay”. Damiano had stayed behind for a second longer to take her hand in his and squeeze it lightly, to then look her in the eyes with such intensity he had said everything without words. It didn’t matter how much she tried to hide it; he could see right through her. Now her phone was buzzing again. And she was ignoring it, still fighting an internal battle as to what she was about to do. She looked at the wrinkled paper she had left beside her, her shaky handwriting barely intelligible. She wasn’t sure if she should; however, she didn’t know if, come the time, she’d be brave enough to proceed. To finally stop burdening everyone. When Cora felt the dampness on her cheeks, she realized she was crying; her throat seemed to be closing, and an irrational panic arose to her brain. For the first time in weeks, she could feel, and what she felt was fear. She had the pill bottle in a firm grip, but something paralyzed her, so she remained there, sitting on the bed, crying, unable to do anything. A raging fire had replaced the numbness, destroying everything in its path, and Cora just wasn’t sure what was worse anymore.

The door to the room opened before she could process what was happening; she could hear the guys’ voices, chatting and bantering. She’d recognize Damiano’s laugh anywhere. Cora couldn’t even move, all she could do was cry, her breath in short, shaky puffs that hurt her aching chest. The sounds ceased abruptly when two friends fell silent, as they noticed her presence on the other side of the dimly lit bedroom.

“Cora?” - she heard Thomas call - “Cora?”

As they noticed she didn’t react, their calls for her grew louder and more worried. All of a sudden, before she could realize, a hand was placed on her shoulder, the cold contrasting with the excessive warmth of her skin.

“Cora… baby, what happened?”

Damiano was the first to notice the bottle Cora was holding in her hand; then, his gaze settled on the wrinkled sheet of paper placed beside her. Given her current state, it wasn’t at all hard for him to put two and two together. Setting all his heartbreak aside, he knew he had to think quick, so he brought himself down to his knees in front of her, while Thomas sat beside him, unable to hide his shock.

“Look at me” - Damiano asked, softly - “Cora, can you please look at me?”

While still gasping for air like a fish out of water, Cora made an effort to meet his gaze, focusing on something, anything but the thoughts that flooded her head. Moving gently, slowly, he placed his hands on top of hers, trying to unclench her fist and ease her grip on the pill bottle.

“We’re going to let this go, okay, amore?” - he said, while still trying to pry her fingers away from the object

Without realizing, the girl was whimpering, when she finally gave in to Damiano’s touch and opened her hand, releasing her grip on the pills, letting the container fall to the carpet with a soft thud, as it was replaced with the boy’s hand on hers. Damiano had climbed up on the bed to sit beside her.

“Did you take anything?”

Cora shook her head hastily, finally abandoning herself to the crying, no longer fighting her feelings, struck by the thought that she had almost done it. Thomas, still sitting in his place on the floor, was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that if they had come home a minute too late…The girl was now huddled against Damiano’s chest, as he tightened his hold on her ever so gently, tears running down his own face, smudging his makeup.

“Andrà tutto bene, piccola” - he whispered, voice thick with his own overload of emotion - “We’re here now. Andrà tutto bene”

Cora tried to speak, to say something, anything, but instead all that left her chest was a loud, completely broken sob. Thomas took her hand, he too still confused and trying to fight past the shock that clouded his judgement momentarily.

“Perdonami”

It was, at last, the first intelligible word she was able to say.

The blond boy finally found it in himself to speak.

“There’s nothing to forgive. We love you so much”

They heard the door open again, Ethan and Vic’s voices speaking softly. They, too, fell silent, their features suddenly heavy, as they saw Damiano still holding on to Cora, both crying like children, and Thomas’ hand interlocked with hers, quiet tears, too, running down his pale cheeks. Exchanging a look, they took a step forward, making their presence known.

“Cora? Damià?” - Vic asked, confusion and worry in her voice - “Thomas… what’s happening?”

Ethan was the quickest of the two  to catch a glimpse of the pill bottle laying forgotten on the carpet beside her. Then, he saw the note, and a hand flew up to cover his mouth in shock. Vic followed quickly. In a moment, both were, too, sitting next to the rest;  Ethan on the bed, beside Cora, Vic on the floor, right next to Thomas, looking up at the pair. Damiano just felt thankful to have the girl safe in his arms; that they hadn’t been too late. Her cries had quieted down a little. The older boy left a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“How did you know?” - she asked, almost whispering

Thomas was quick to reply.

“You weren’t taking our calls. We were worried”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a burden. I just thought you would be better off without me”

It was Ethan’s turn to speak up.

“Don’t say that again. Please” - he asked, hurt - “we love you, Cora. You’re our sister. We want to help you”

Then, Victoria:

“Don’t shut us out. We’ll fix this, we promise you”

Finally, Damiano cleared his throat and seemed to take a moment to think of how to phrase his thoughts.

“Sorellina mia, non sei mai sola… trust us on this one. Let us take care of you. We’ll make it okay”

For the first time in weeks, Cora felt an overwhelming amount of love replace the void that had been sucking all happiness out of her. A tiny little spark of warmth flickered on her heart, fueled by her family’s soft touches and kind words.

Damiano wiped the tears from her cheeks while his own still rolled down his face.As they huddled up together, taking comfort in each other, she knew they wouldn’t leave her. She had love. Something worth staying for.

--------

translations:

“Non mi va, raga’. Sono troppo stanca.” - “I don’t feel like it, guys. I’m too tired”

“amore (mio)” - (my) love

“Andrà tutto bene, piccola” - “Eveything’s going to be alright, baby”

“Perdonami” - forgive me

"Sorellina mia, non sei mai sola” - “My little sister... you are never alone”

(A/N): this is a very, very sensitive topic I would not normally write about. however, if this is a way to, somehow, bring any sort of comfort to someone going through a rough time, I am happy to provide it for you. let this be your reminder that there is always something worth fighting for.

this is a small story that in no way, shape or form glorifies mental illness. not only is it unrealistic and irresponsible to take it lightly, it is dangerous.

last but not least, everyone struggles at some point in life. bad days don’t last forever. you’re never alone. you’re so so loved. if you, like Cora, are not in a good place right now, remember there’s no shame in asking for help.

you can do this. it gets better. my inbox is open if you need a friend.

#måneskin imagine #please mind the trigger warnings!!! #måneskin #damiano david #vic de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #fic #short fic #drabble #requests open

[tsarisfanfiction]

Sentence Starters:

Can we stop for a moment? I think I need a break.

Coz I don’t think Scott’s ever uttered those words in his life!

Water Rescue

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Gordon, Scott, Virgil

Ahaha, probably not something he’d say if he had any choice in the matter, no!  That being said, five months after you sent this and I’m finally prodding this far back in my inbox (see, I get around to prompts eventually!).  I might even have some idea why he might be saying it.  Maybe.

Now... can I even find the original prompt list for this...  Oop, apparently it was on the wrong blog, but found it eventually!

Injured Sentence Starters

“Can we stop for a moment?  I think I need a break.”

Gordon hit the edge of the pool and caught the side of it, pulling himself vertical and looking over at his eldest brother, who was clinging to the side and looking absolutely exhausted.  It wasn’t an admittance Scott ever made lightly, but while he had his pride - especially in front of younger brothers - he did have some level of common sense.

The tongue-lashings Gordon had delivered in the past when he’d pushed himself beyond his limits in the pool and ended up cramping and in need of rescue himself might have also, finally, sunk in.  You couldn’t save someone else if you were in trouble yourself.

He eyed Scott anyway, because he was looking a little pale and he suspected he’d still pushed further than he should have done with their water training, but didn’t hesitate to agree.

“We can take a break,” he agreed.  “Get up on the poolside and take a breather.”

Chlorinated water plastering his hair down even more effectively than the handfuls of hair gel employed every morning, Scott nodded.  He really was looking pale, now Gordon was looking at him properly, and he lingered back in the water as Scott turned and grasped the edge of the pool with a white-knuckled grip.  Biceps rippled, Scott’s arms tensing in preparation of the pull, and then Gordon was surging the foot or so between them and catching his brother as his grip failed and he vanished beneath the surface.

Yanking Scott back up, Gordon trod water as he patted his brother’s cheek.  His eyes were closed, face drained of all colour, and in the back of his mind Gordon retracted anything he’d thought about Scott learning not to overdo it.  Then again, he should not have been exhausted to the point of fainting from what they’d done so far.

He frowned.

“C’mon, Scott,” he urged, fingers slipping down to press against the pulse point beneath his brother’s jaw.  It was still there, slightly thready but not enough to be a concern.  Wet fingers in front of a partially open mouth registered steady breathing, so with a scowl he returned to tapping Scott’s cheek insistently.  “Wake up.”

There was a cough and a splutter, and he grasped at the side of the pool again, allowing his own legs a respite from treading water as Scott blinked his way back into consciousness.

“Gords?”  His name was a little quiet and unsteady, confusion lacing though in the background.

“You fainted,” Gordon told him bluntly.  Scott blanched, as though he wasn’t already pale enough, and Gordon’s suspicions rose.  There was something his brother wasn’t telling him.  “Training is over.”

The sigh he got in response wasn’t surprised, rather resigned.  Gordon tightened his grip as Scott reached for the side of the pool again.

“You’ve been dunked enough,” he said a little sharply.  “I’m going to swim you back to the shallow end and we’ll get out there.”

“I can-”

“Absolutely not.”  Sometimes, Gordon couldn’t believe his brother’s stupidity.  “Come on.”  He kicked away from the side, bringing Scott with him; despite his words, his brother didn’t fight his hold.  It didn’t take long to get them back to the shallows, where both of them could stand easily on the bottom.  “Out.”

Scott grasped the side again, muscles rippling as he pulled himself up.  Gordon took no chances, boosting him from the side until he was clear before bringing himself out alongside.

Any attempts his brother might have made to escape were scuppered by a hand on his wrist, keeping him by the poolside.

“Do I need to give you the water safety lecture again?” he demanded.  “You do not push yourself to the point of collapse in the pool.  Ever.”

“I know.”  Scott looked slightly unsure, and Gordon paused.  “I was fine, Gordon, I promise.  I don’t know what happened.”

Gordon didn’t like the sound of that at all; it made sense insofar as the fact that he also hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until immediately before, but if Scott was fainting for no apparent reason, then that was potentially something a lot more serious.

“You didn’t forget to eat earlier, did you?”  Scott shook his head.  “Sleepless night?”  That headshake was less certain, but knowing his brother’s sleeping habits, that didn’t unduly surprise Gordon.  Still, it was concerning.  He reached out for Scott’s pulse point again.

Scott didn’t pull back.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, feeling the thrumming pulse under his fingers.  It was stronger than when he’d been unconscious, but still wasn’t quite right.

“I’m fine,” Scott promised.  “Whatever it was has passed.”

“I’ll be more convinced once I’ve got a scan on you,” Gordon muttered.  Scott baulked at the idea, but he held firm.  “Scott, if you’re ill, we need to know.”  Just the idea of his brother having another fainting spell in the air, at the controls of Thunderbird One, or even in a danger zone...

No, Gordon couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m not ill.”  On the plus side, Scott clearly felt fine enough to be a terrible patient.  That being said, it wasn’t a particularly high bar; keeping him pinned down if he was coherent was always a challenge.

“If you can stand up without a headrush or fainting again, I’ll consider believing you,” Gordon pointed out, bringing his hand back from Scott’s throat and making his way to his feet.  “Think you can?”  He held out his hands for Scott to take.  His stubborn brother didn’t accept the help, so Gordon snatched his wrists anyway.

It turned out to be a good move, because Scott swayed slightly - not much, but more than he’d ever do if he was completely healthy - as he reached his full height.  Gordon narrowed his eyes.

“Infirmary or den?” he asked, less because he wanted to give Scott an out and more because the den was closer.

“Den is fine,” Scott replied, predictably.  Well, if he wanted to play it that way.

“Den it is,” Gordon agreed, and raised an eyebrow at Scott’s suspicious look.  “What?  I gave you the choice, didn’t I?”

The noise Scott made in his throat was just as suspicious as the look, but his brother didn’t reply.  Gordon grinned at him and led the way, not letting go.  Scott stumbled after him until Gordon ducked underneath his arm.  The stairs were, in Gordon’s opinion, too much of a risk, so he dragged his brother towards the elevator and tried not to think about the trail of water they were traipsing all through the house.

Hopefully Grandma would understand.

Still, he snagged a towel in passing and slung it around his neck until the elevator spat them out upstairs.  It was deployed on Scott upon arrival in the den, because the sofa cushions were only water resistant and Grandma got very upset if wet bodies sat on them for any length of time.

Scott grumbled protests that he was capable of drying himself, which Gordon ignored entirely, before sinking down entirely too gratefully onto the nearest sofa.  Gordon hurriedly got rid of the worst of the water from his own body before he threw himself onto the sofa next to Scott.

“Virgil,” he called, prodding at his wrist comm and leaning sharply out of Scott’s reach as his brother reacted.  “Could you bring a medscanner to the den?”

“What happened?”  A grease-covered Virgil appeared in miniature, scowling up at him in concern.  “Weren’t you and Scott doing water training?”

“Until Scott fainted,” Gordon agreed, ignoring the hiss of his name from said older brother and extending his arm so that it was out of Scott’s reach.  “As you can see, he’s lively again now, but-”

“You have no idea why?”  Whether Virgil was finishing his sentence or just guessing, he wasn’t sure, but either way it was correct.

“Yup,” he agreed.  “So if you could..?”

“I’m on my way.”

The call cut out just as Scott managed to grab his wrist.

“Gordon.”

“What?” he asked.  “You thought I was going to just leave you here while I fetched it so you could escape?”  From the frustrated look on his brother’s face, that was exactly what big brother had been hoping for.  “If you didn’t want Virgil involved, you should have picked the infirmary, bro.”

He was fairly sure the growled words under Scott’s breath were ones from the military-dictionary, and not the Grandma-approved one.

“Love you, too, bro.”  He pushed himself upright again and gave his brother another once-over.  Scott really did look fine, and the chances were high that it was a random one-off - probably his sleep schedule catching up with him at last - but Gordon couldn’t shake the unease.  “Look, Scott.  Just humour me, okay?  If the scan doesn’t show anything then that’s fine.  I just want to be sure.”

Scott sighed, reluctance oozing from every pore, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m fine.”

Well, he didn’t argue much.

“That’s for the scanner to decide.”

Booted feet all but running across the floor cut off any retort Scott might have been building, and Virgil appeared.  Somehow he looked even more grease-stained than his hologram had, but Gordon was more interested in the medscanner he was clutching.

Scott endured it with bad grace.

“How long was he out?” Virgil demanded.  Gordon shrugged.

“A few seconds,” he said.  “Thirty, tops.”  It wasn’t long, but it was long enough.

Virgil’s hum seemed to agree with him as the scanner beeped.  Three pairs of eyes focused on it.

Nothing wrong.

Well, technically it was flagging up some minor exhaustion - no doubt from the training - and an advisory about sleep and electrolytes flashed up, but there was nothing dramatic.

Virgil scowled at Scott.  “Electrolytes,” he said.  “And sleep.  I’m grounding you for twelve hours, and it’ll be longer if you don’t spend at least half of them in bed.”  He brandished the scanner when Scott’s mouth opened.  “Preferably all of them.”

Brown eyes glanced to Gordon, ignoring the protests coming from their big brother.  “Get him to his room while I fix something up.”

“F.A.B.  Come on, Scotty.  Bed time.”  He slipped off the sofa and grabbed Scott’s arms.  “Up you get.”  Blue eyes glowered at him in frustration, but with the dreaded g-word hanging over him, Scott was reluctantly compliant.  Already he was steadier on his feet, to the point that Gordon was happy to risk the stairs up to the bedrooms.

There were, thankfully, no more incidents, and Scott sank down onto his bed with another glare.  Gordon joined him, uninvited but equally not dismissed, and they sat shoulder to shoulder as they waited for Virgil.

The family medic didn’t take long, appearing with a sports bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Drink all of it,” he instructed, pressing the bottle into Scott’s hand.  Big brother made a face but obediently took a few gulps.  “Once you’re done, get into pyjamas and go to bed.”  The water was placed on the bedside table, alongside a pill.  “If you can’t sleep, take that.”

Scott’s shoulders slumped but there was no protest.  Then again, Gordon probably wasn’t the only one who had thought about the what-ifs of a repeat on a rescue.  Scott was many things, but sometimes he could see the same dangers the rest of them were scared of.  Not always, but sometimes.

“Gordon Cooper Tracy!”

Oops.  Grandma must have found the trail of water.  He glanced at his older brothers, who both looked vaguely sympathetic - a first, but then he’d had good reason this time - but offered no support.

“I’d say that’s my cue to leave,” he said, dragging himself to his feet.  He pressed a hand to Scott’s shoulder.  “See you in twelve hours, Scotty.”

There was no agreement - then again, Scott staying in bed for twelve hours seemed less likely than John willingly going to a party - but there was a small quirk of his lips into what could be a smile.

“Thanks, Gordon.”

Gordon huffed.  “No more fainting during water training.  I’m getting fed up of having to drag you out at the end.”

“This was the first time!” Scott protested, but Gordon didn’t bother answering that; the other occasions might have seen him still conscious, but they’d otherwise been no better.  Instead, he gave a jaunty wave to his eldest brother, and offered Virgil a sloppy handover salute - big brother was his responsibility now - before slipping out of the room to face Grandma.

Scott was in good hands.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderwhump #drabbles #janetm74 #water rescue

[playername-player-of-games]

haha sbi maleficent au go brrrrr

i started talking about it in this post and it’s kinda just. half baked vibes rn but i’m writing it. currently figuring out how the flip to tag this thing before it goes on ao3. if anyone wants to help me come up with a cool title feel free to hit up my inbox :D

below is the first chapter! around 1500 words or so - i don’t think it needs any warnings? (lemme know if that’s not true and i will adjust tags and warnings as needed)

enjoy! <3

*****

There is a stranger in the Moors.

The Border Guards are first to discover them, slinking around the Pool of Jewels, and manage to keep them cornered until Phil arrives in a flurry of midnight feathers. He touches down on a small island between the two tree golems, flapping his wings once, twice, for balance, before letting them settle half folded behind him.

"Right," he says, reaching down to roll up his pants, "Let's get them outta here, then."

One of the Border Guards murmurs a warning.

Philza smiles at it over one shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate," he assures, opening his wings into a more battle-ready position and pats the knife strapped to his leg, "I've got a backup plan if this goes poorly."

The Border Guard eyes him warily, but relents, letting him go.

With a cheerful salute and a brief flapping of wings, Phil hops into the water.

As he pushes his way through the vines hanging at the entrance, the rocks complain. They do not like the stranger, angrily grumbling under the water is Phil wades along. He whispers apologies as he goes, pushing hanging vines out of his way and cringing at the way some of the wetter ones slither over his feathers. It's not so bad once he's made it past the entrance, where the vines here are higher and he'd have to jump to reach them.

The water is up to his knees now. He keeps his wings lifted, away from the water. The faint, golden glow of glowberries trickles along the wall, along with small, glowing stones peeking out of the rocks here and there, colored purple and blue and green. The water is glowing as well, a light, clear blue from all the magic in the stones lining the bottom of it. The roots of some ancient tree hold the shape of the cave, and there, in the far corner, mostly hidden by shadow and low vines, is the stranger.

Philza brightens.

"Hello!" he calls. His voice echoes all around the grotto. The rocks complain at his loudness, but he ignores them, "What brings you to the Moors?"

The stranger does not answer.

Phil can barely see them, save for the glowing of their eyes, sharp and red and distinctly not human.

A little creepy, if Phil's being honest, but better than talking to a wall.

"Why don't you come on out?" Phil offers, opening his palms towards them to show he has no ill will, "I can help you get out of Moors, if you're lost."

The stranger shifts. The sound of metal scraping against the wall echoes through the grotto, and ripples extend across the shallow lake between them.

When the stranger speaks, their voice is quiet. Wary. Deeper than Phil was expecting.

"How do I know they won't kill me?"

"They?" Phil repeats, wings flapping once at the question, the pillowed thump of his feathers on air echoing, "You mean the Border Guards?"

A slow blink.

"Uh," Phil makes vague gestures with his hands, "Big tree guys?"

Another slow blink.

Phil points both thumbs over one shoulder, "Out there?"

A nod.

"Oh," Phil's wings go slack, "Well, mate, I know they  look  intimidating, but believe me, neither of them would hurt a fly."

There's a breath of a laugh, "Really?"

"It's true," Phil grins. "You'd know if you talked to them."

"Why should I believe you?" the stranger retorts. "For all I know, they'll slice me in half the second I step outside."

"They won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because stealing is  wrong,  mate. But we never kill people for it."

The stranger shifts again, this time closer, partially into the light. Philza can make out some of their face now, and has to bite back a laugh at the way their nose wrinkles.

"Who said I stole anything?"

Phil grins again, "The rocks are complaining about you, mate. You've made them upset."

A confused blink.

"The...rocks?"

"Yep," Phil pokes a few of them under the water with his toe, "They're upset that you're here, and that you've stolen one of their friends, and that I'm being loud, a-"

"The rocks are upset with you?"

"And you!" Phil laughs, "But yeah, me too. They don't like that I've got wings. And I'm pretty loud."

He can hear them murmuring, even now, though they're muffled by the water. Between complaints about the stranger stealing a friend, there's something curious, and even some excitement about how quiet the stranger's voice is.

"I think they'd like you, though, if you gave them time."

The stranger considers this. Water drips from the ceiling, sending little ripples across the lake. The ancient tree seems amused. The rocks are still whispering.

Then, the stranger steps into the light.

They're taller than Philza by several inches. The glow of their eyes fades somewhat in the new light, their face serious behind loose strands of pink hair. While Phil's hair is messily cut at his shoulders, the stranger's hair is all tangles halfway down their back, over a faded red cloak and well worn traveling clothes. Their pants are rolled up, just like Phil's are, and neither of them are wearing shoes, though the strangers feet are bandaged.

Their hands are bandaged as well, Phil notices, as one hand rests on the pommel of the sword strapped to their hip and the other digs through the bag they carry. From the bag they produce a stone, little and white. It sparkles a pretty blue in the sparse lighting of the grotto, but probably wouldn't be worth much at a human market.

The stranger flicks the stone into the water and turns their red-eyed gaze back to Philza.

They have tusks, Phil discovers then. Little tusks and oddly shaped ears, like those of a pig. Their skin is tinted more pink than the average human, and they look rather young, probably around Phil's age, eleven or twelve.

The stranger brushes hair out of their eyes.

"I'm lost," the stranger confesses, voice softer, embarrassed, "Do you know the way out of here?"

Phil offers a hand, "Of course, mate."

The stranger takes his hand. Phil introduces himself.

"My name's Philza."

"Technoblade."

"Nice to meet you, Technoblade." He smiles, settling a wing over his companion's shoulders. "C'mon. It's not too long a walk if you know where you’re going.”

*****

  Technoblade isn't the most talkative person in the world, but Phil doesn't mind.

It's easy to keep up a meandering conversation for the two of them, about other travelers and thieves he's seen around the Moors. Technoblade makes thoughtful little noises as Phil rambles, and doesn't seem to mind the way Phil flies when he talks. Usually that would be considered rude around the Moors, and Phil does it all the time without meaning to. Technoblade doesn't say anything about it, just lifts his head while Phil hovers above him.

"And here we are!" Phil announces once they're out of the woods, past the stones marking the outer edges of the Moors, "The ancient battlefield, with a stunning view of his majesty's castle there in the distance."

"It's majestic," Technoblade agrees, ducking under a low branch and stepping out after Philza, "The sunset really accents it, I think."

Phil grins at him. Technoblade's lips quirk up in return.

"So," Phil begins, touching down next to him. He clasps his hands together behind his back and lets his wings settle, "Where are you going?"

Technoblade shrugs, "Just travelin' right now."

"Oh?"

"Yep," he points to the castle, "Used to live up there. Had to leave cause someone stole my dad's job."

"Where's your dad now?"

"Gone."

"Oh."

"So I'm lookin' for a new place to live."

"Ah," Phil nods. He moves to stand next to Technoblade, so they can watch the sunset side by side.

It's quiet, for a while. There's a late summer breeze playing with the ends of their hair, as well as stray patches of sunflowers dotting the field.

Eventually, though, Technoblade reaches out to pat Phil's shoulder, offering a few words in farewell.

"We'll see each other again.”

It sounds like a promise, the way he says it. That makes Phil worry.

"You really shouldn't come back here, mate," Philza answers, before Technoblade can get too far away, "It isn't safe if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He looks back at him, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

"And if I made that choice, Philza, if I came back," Technoblade asks, "would you be here?”

“Well, I would, but-”

“Then I’ll be fine,” He interrupts, turning around again while waving one hand as if dismissing Phil’s worries, “You know what you’re doing.”

That startles a laugh out of Phil, and he can’t bring himself to protest Technoblade leaving.

“Alright, but don’t come back too soon!” Phil calls after him, “I mean it when I say this place is dangerous for humans!”

“Good thing I’m not human!”

That has him laughing again, as he watches him go. The stranger in the Moors turned out to be a thief, and after a thief, a new friend.

Phil waves goodbye, even though Technoblade can’t see it. He's excited to see him again, whenever that might be.

#sbi #sbi fanfic #philza #technoblade #sbi maleficent au #how do i tag for this fandom i actually have no idea askdjfaksdf

[faejilly]

nightmares turn to dreams

for @flaine1996​ as part of the @masseffectholidaycheer​

Part 2 of 2: after (fic) [part 2: before (music)]

aka Thane & Kaidan during ME3, and how they’ve dealt with their lives after they met Shepard (background F!Shenko) because how you do a thing matters.

*

Hospitals are too damned bright.

This one's at least got big picture windows, so it's not all that fake white sterility.

If Kaidan thinks about it too much it makes him feel worse, though, because he's inside a space station. It's not real sunlight, it's not real fresh air, and yet it fools him for a moment every morning when he first looks "outside", and wants to crack the window to let some of that in.

But the outside's not much different than the inside, even with all the cultivated plants and water out there. (There are plants and water in here, after all. They'd wheeled him to the atrium as soon as he could manage sitting up, and they let him walk himself there now that he's a bit more mobile.)

He misses the wind off the seashore, the tang of real pine as the air starts turning cold, the way frost makes the inside of his nose tickle. (It'd be a terrible idea, of course, sitting outside in a Canadian autumn in the shape he's in, but he wants it, beyond rhyme or reason or logic.)

Or maybe he wants it to be summer, sitting on a porch drinking a cold beer.

Nothing quite like a cold beer on a hot day, his grandmother had told him once, back when he'd been granted his first spare sip of his father's drink, and almost spat it out again at how dank and bitter it had tasted. She'd had a quirk of a smile on her face, and the rest of the adults had barely smothered their laughter at his expression. Though you might not agree with me on that one just yet.

Or ever, his mother had answered, shaking her head over her sparkling water. She never did drink beer, and seldom used wine for anything other than cooking, either. Some of us still don't.

"You still with me?"

Kaidan blinks, makes himself focus on Tiana, his physical therapist. "Sorry," he answers, his voice rough in his too dry throat. He reaches out a hand, and she slips a water bottle in it before he can even ask. He drinks, tries not to think too much about how different the tepid liquid is from the beer in his memory.

Tiana shakes her head when he passed the bottle back, a smile clear in the flare of her mandibles. "No apologies necessary. We're almost done."

Kaidan sighs out a breath in relief, ignores the ache in his thighs and back, and makes himself do one more rep, than another.

"There we go," Tiana sighs with him as he finishes. "Time to cool down."

Kaidan nods, and doesn't bother trying to speak again as they go through the familiar routine. Sweat is slick on his skin, and he hates how exhausted he is, hates the dull throb from the neutral amp they'd put in to make sure his biotics didn't flare during his recovery.

SOP for head wounds; he knows that, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

He never thought he'd miss that sharp-sweet pressure from his L2 implants, that constant background he'd forced himself to accept over the years, but now that it's temporarily suppressed he doesn't quite feel like himself, almost as off-kilter from the change in the static between his ears as from relearning the shape and stretch of his body.

He wonders, a little, how much worse it must have been for Shepard, to wake up with everything different around her, body and mind and galaxy...

He shakes his head, and makes himself focus on the here and now.

He's got it so much better than she did, he doesn't have anything to complain about, not really.

He's not isolated, he's got messages from his folks waiting for his reply, even a quick note from Anderson in his inbox. He's got a tech analysis to go over from Tali, who asked for a second opinion, and a rant from Garrus about their current REV that ends with a truly bewildered how the fuck does this damn thing make me miss the Mako?

Nothing from Shepard, but he understands that, he does. They need more than blank words on a screen. She'd come to visit him, he knew that, but he'd been too far gone, not yet awake, and he wishes...

He just has to wait.

He's getting better, even if it's at a frustratingly slow pace...

Unlike his standing dinner engagement. Krios is never going to get better.

He and Thane eat together most days.

They don't ever talk about Shepard, the one thing that they have in common, the one thing that brought them together...

It's nice, actually, to talk to someone who didn't know him before, who has no expectations, no preconceptions. Who goes still whenever Kaidan does, whenever one of them thinks of something from their past that's too heavy to let slip away quickly.

Only tonight, Thane doesn't go silent, as if he can tell that Kaidan's worries are closer to the surface than usual.

"She keeps a picture of you."

Kaidan blinks, his fork hovering somewhere between his plate and his mouth.

"In her quarters, on her desk." Thane blinks, more slowly than usual, the movement of his eyelids easy to follow. He exhales, heavy and rasping. "A reminder, I think, not just of why she fights, but how she chooses to do so."

Kaidan closes his eyes, puts his fork down with a soft tunk. It aches, twisting and bitter, somewhere in his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

He'd failed to be there for her, and yet she acted like he had been, and he wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself...

Thane scoffs in the back of his throat, the noise softer and deeper than one Kaidan would make, caught in the dregs of his illness, in the shape of his mouth and tongue. "I do not say that to make you feel worse, Alenko."

Kaidan manages half a smile, opens his eyes. "But I'm good at feeling guilty, Krios, what else should I do?"

Thane rolls his eyes, his expression soft. "Not that."

"You any good at taking your own advice?"

"I have made my peace—"

Kaidan scoffs that time, louder and sharper. "No, you haven't. Settling into dying isn't the same thing as accepting how you lived."

Thane is truly still this time, his hands pressing down on the table hard enough that Kaidan can see the shape of the seam through the thick joint in his middle finger.

"There are things I've done..." Thane trails off.

"I killed my first man when I was a teenager." Kaidan shrugs as Thane tilts his head, clearly listening, even as he doesn't quite lift his head enough to meet Kaidan's gaze. "And sure, it was provoked out of me, was mostly a protective instinct, and I'm not sure there was a way to have stopped it, not with everything else that was happening..." He trails off this time, swallows. He knows Thane is waiting for him to finish, recognizes that he's not trying to stop, that he just has to line up the words properly. "But for just a moment I was glad I'd stopped him, proud of what I was capable of doing to another person, and no matter how horrified I was a moment later, I will never again not know that about myself."

Thane nods, slow and steady and understanding. Kaidan had thought he'd understand. Not a lot of people would. "And then what did you do, once you learned yourself?"

Kaidan huffs out something that's not a laugh. "I got lost for awhile."

"Perhaps I should let myself get lost." Thane's voice is thick, and a little damp, and Kaidan can't quite tease out the emotion from his illness.

I don't think you have the time. But Kaidan knows not to say that. Doesn’t even want to, really. Thane doesn’t need the time, after all, not like Kaidan had, all those years ago.

"I don't know, I think that's hard to do when you've found yourself again, already." Kaidan lets himself smile; it's not entirely happy, but it's there, and he sees the tension in Thane's shoulders ease at the sight of it. "You've got Kolyat, and your memories. And the Normandy."

"We both have Shepard."

Kaidan nods. He knows he does, knows he will, when he can stand on his own, when she comes back. It might not be what it was, nothing's ever exactly what it was, but they'll still have... something. They'll make it enough, he's sure of it. "We'll always have Shepard. And she'll always have us."

"Always?" Thane doesn't have an eyebrow to raise, but the expression's familiar nonetheless, sardonic but not as heavy as he was a moment ago. Thane doesn't have much time left.

“How she chooses to fight, remember?” How you live matters, even when you're not around to see the consequences. Kaidan knows he'll never forget Thane Krios, and the company he had during this odd oasis in his life. Knows Shepard never forgets any of her friends. Kaidan's smile is a bit easier this time, and it widens even further when he sees Thane smile back, small but sincere. Thane understands. "So yeah. Always."

#flaine1996 #masseffectholidaycheer #mass effect #kaidan alenko #thane krios #jilly writes #me ot

[moonlit-mizukage]

Tsukishima Kei x reader Ache 2

Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending

Word Count: 1.6k 

Summary: It's been one month since (y/n) left tsuki, she won't answer any one now, but when Yamaguchi sees her unexpectedly, Tsukishima is now given a second chance with his love. 

Characters aged up!!

AN: This part was highly requested in my inbox so here is part 2 of my Tsukishima angst! Thank you for all the comments and requests for this part! I was really happy to be making a part 2!

Read part 1 here!    |   Masterlist 

It's been almost one month since the break up between Tsukishima and (y/n). Tsukishima was acting more distant with everyone then he was before. If he wasn’t working he was at home, hugging a stuffed stegosaurus (y/n) had given him on their first year anniversary. Yamaguchi would show up at his apartment to make sure he was eating. Yamaguchi was trying to reach out to (y/n). She responded once telling him she knew he didn’t care about her, then blocked Yamaguchi right after. 

Even though (y/n) was putting on an act that she was fine to Yamaguchi, it was the farthest thing from the truth. She sat in her apartment, longingly gazing out her window most nights. She would stare down at the city lights remembering all the evenings she spent out with tsukishima close by where she was. She decided one particularly rainy night that she would head out to get some groceries. 

The rain was coming down almost as if it was a waterfall. (y/n) had left her apartment forgetting to grab her umbrella or even a jacket with a hood. She walked up her block to the nearest store entering inside. Not too far from where she was standing, a wide eyed Yamaguchi had spotted her. He was picking up something to take over to Tsukishima’s house for them to eat. (y/n) just grabbed a simple bowl of cold soba already premade in a small cooler. She left as quickly as she came. Yamaguchi was one person behind her in line. She didn’t seem to notice him. She was lost in her own thoughts. He knew she wouldn’t talk to him as anyone who tried she would block them, claiming Tsukishima made himself very clear. 

Yamaguchi knew how bad Tsukishima was doing so he couldn’t help himself from walking at a safe distance behind (y/n).He was having a silent battle with himself over if this was just creepy or if he had a good reason. He looked up noticing she was climbing up the stairs to what he assumed was her new apartment. He watched as she walked up to what looked like the fourth floor, third apartment from the end. He stepped under the side protecting himself from the rain as he pulled out his phone sending a quick message to Tsukishima. 

Upstairs in the apartment, she dropped her soaking wet coat down on the floor. She approaches her bathroom as she falls to her knees, crying once again. The empty rooms are constant reminders to her of what she once had. She thought she may have seen Yamaguchi out tonight, but she worries that she had just imagined it due to the overbearing loneliness she had felt lately. 

At Tsukishima’s apartment, Yamaguchi was now walking in the door to a sad Tsukishima sitting, still holding his dinosaur plush. “Did you get my message?” 

Tsukishima reached for his cell phone that was sitting on top of a small oak table in front of him. 36 4th floor 3rd from the end. “What is this supposed to mean Yamaguchi?” 

“We are going out, come on.” Tsukishima looked down at his pajama pants. “Don’t fight me on this please.” Tsukishima sighed. 

“Can we just take the car so I can stay inside? It’s raining.” 

Yamaguchi sighed and picked up the keys. “Let’s go.” 

Yamaguchi drove them down to where he was earlier that day. He pulled up into the small grocery store he was already in that day. He left tsukishima in the car as he went in. 

“What are these for?” Yamaguchi dropped flowers onto Tsukishima’s lap. Yamaguchi then began driving the short distance in the continuing rain storm. He pulled up in front of (y/n)’s building. 

“(y/n) lives here.” 

“How did you… when did you.... Where?” 

“The place I texted you.” Tsukishima was already out of the car closing the door before Yamaguchi could finish. Tsukishima was running, not being cautious of how slippery it was when he tripped on the last step, scraping his right knee off the wall of the fourth floor knocking him over. He looked down at his ripped pajamas as his knee was freshly wounded, bleeding. The flowers were now damaged as he had landed on them. He regained himself as he rushed towards the door Yamaguchi had messaged. 1...2…3 There. He thought to himself as he hammered on the door. Tsukishima did not realise how hard he was knocking anymore as he just kept going, desperate to see her once again. 

On the other side of the door, (y/n) was sitting in her window again sniffling. She assumed it was from the rain making her ill, not aware she had started crying again. She thought about how nice it would be to have tsukishima here to nurse her illness away. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud hammering on her door. She slowly approached her door as she looked out the peephole. There stood a tall blond figure, touching his ripped open knee. Tsukishima?? She thought she was imagining it as she pulled open her door. 

“Kei?” 

He looked up to meet her eyes, sleep deprivation clear on her face along with marks from what looked like tears. Her hair was messy and wet, eyes puffy and swollen. She held her arm up covering her mouth as the other held the door tightly. 

“Kei, you’re bleeding...” She reached out to him pulling him inside her apartment seating him on a couch. 

“(y/n), these are for you.” He hands her the damaged flowers in his hand. She takes them and sets them down on the little table. “I’m going to get something for your knee.” She rushed off to the bathroom. 

Tsukishima looked around the apartment, it looked as if someone was moving out rather than living there. She came back rushing to him. 

“What happened Kei? Are you okay?” She picked it up to clean his wound. 

He groaned out in pain. “I slipped running up the stairs, I didn’t want to wait another minute to see you.” 

“Kei...” she said as she looked him in the eyes. Tears could be seen forming at the sides now. He reached over and brushed them away.

“Please just hear me out.” She nodded in agreement. “I’m not good with expressing my emotions… I made a mistake. Well many mistakes. I should have tried to talk to you about how I was feeling. I wasn’t intentionally pushing you away. I did avoid you and I was rude, and I was just-” He took a deep breath. Tears now falling down his face. 

“It’s okay Kei, take your time.” She said as she placed her hand on top of his. 

“I didn’t want to break up. I was just, distancing myself so I could hide my surprise for you.” He reached into his pajama pants pocket and pulled out a ring. “I was going to propose to you (y/n), on our second year anniversary this month. I just was scared you would say no, and then I just distanced myself and then I skipped dates to avoid telling you. I just acted like a huge prick and I-” 

Tsukishima was cut off by (y/n) pulling him into a kiss. Tsukishima at first thought he was imagining it. He moved his hands up into her hair, adding more passion into the kiss. The two only pulled away when they needed air. 

“Kei, I am sorry too, for everything. I feel so bad for what I said to you. Loving you isn't a mistake, it's the greatest thing that has happened to me. I missed you so much.”

Tsukishima pulled her into his chest, his heart beating in her ear drum. 

“I love you more than anything, I’m so sorry for everything too. This last month has been terrible without you, will you come home with me (y/n)?” She pulled away looking up at him.

“Of course Kei. I missed you more than anything. I know you have troubles expressing your emotions, but let's work on it together.” 

“On one condition,” she looked at him with clear confusion on her face. He let her go fully and got down on his non injured knee. “Will you marry me (y/n)?” 

“Yes! Kei  I love you so much. I can’t believe you had this in your pocket.” She said leaning down, giving him another kiss. 

“I love you too, so much, I always have it in my pocket, just in case I saw you again.” She looked at him as she covered her mouth with her hand, 

“Kei.” 

Oh, and (y/n), thank you for giving me another chance and making me the happiest man I could ever be.” He pulls you into a hug again. They stayed there for a while. “Oh, Yamaguchi is in the car.” 

She chuckled, “Let me grab my bag and we can go.” 

“Is this your apartment?” he asked. 

“No it’s my friends.” 

On that note the Tsukishima helped her grab her bag as they headed out, back to their once shared apartment. 

Back in the car, Yamaguchi apologised for following (y/n) and not trying to talk with her. She didn’t seem to mind now that she was back in Tsukishima’s arms. Yamaguchi dropped them off as they headed upstairs. The two changed as they climbed into bed together. Tsukishima pulled (y/n) into his chest. 

“I missed holding you like this.” He spoke softly into her hair. 

“I missed it too Kei.” She said, as she gave him a light kiss on his chest.

Tsukishima’s dinosaur plush was no longer his go to hold as it was still sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

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