#it was in spanish and also i was in the middle of my reading slump so it doesnt count. i'm older. i can appreciate it now

[celticwoman]

classic got only one more vote than contemporary but it still won

#choose wisely. i trust y'all #also if anyone has a favourite wuthering heights film adaptation lmk. i'd like to watch something #btw. i did read a bit of dorian gray like. 5 years ago for lit class #it was in spanish and also i was in the middle of my reading slump so it doesnt count. i'm older. i can appreciate it now #cami.txt

[meow-sic]

hi elliot! can you do a drabble or hcs of how kuroo, the miya twins, oikawa, and bokuto would propose to their s/o? if that's a lot of characters, then pls just take your pick but pls include kuroo! thank u so much!! btw i really like your "they accidentally hurt you" post. it provides realism and a middle ground to the usual extremes we see in reader-insert content - idyllic/saccharine vs dark content (•ˇ‿ˇ•)

how they propose to you 𓍢 ᭡

includes : oikawa , kuroo , bokuto !

warnings : some misunderstandings in oikawa’s from a prank lolol , some cursing !

a/n : hi anon! ur my first anon message and you warmed my heart<333 also i lowk got inspiration from bokutos from a spanish music video i watched in spanish class today, sue me lololol

oikawa tooru

he’s just dumb

he thought it would be funny to try to prank you

dumbass

butttttt knowing his luck, it didn’t go as planned—

okay, well, it started off innocent— he planned to try to casually slide it in, maybe catch you off gaurd, then get down on his knee and ask you to marry him!

but, when you were on top of him tickling him, he wanted to get back at you.

and like tooru oikawa, he didn’t fully think it through.

“mei! stop!” he laughed, as a joke. it was supposed to be a joke.

you stopped your fingers that were wiggling by his sides. you slumped on his lap. “what?”

he peeked at you and smiled. “what do you mean what?”

“who’s mei?”

“i didn’t say mei,” he replied, your eyes watered and you got off of his lap. he sat up and stared at you. “y/n? are you okay?”

he got up but you already were in your room, slapping the door shut.

“stupid tooru! you made ‘em upset,” he scolded himself quietly.

when he walked up to your shared room, he heard the sniffles and sobs that came from the other side that broke his heart. he knocked on the door three times before entering.

“honey,” he walked over to you and hugged you. you sobbed into his chest.

“how long has it been going on tooru?” you asked through your sobs.

he pet your hair, “what do you mean baby?”

“don’t act dumb! it’s like—“ you paused. “it’s like you’re trying to ignore the fact you’ve been cheating!”

he thought you knew he was joking. “y/n—“

“if you’re not going to tell me then i’m leaving,” you turned around to start packing your bags.

his eyes widened in panic. “nonono! no, shit—“ he was embarrassed. “i didn’t mean it! it didn’t happen! mei isn’t real!”

you stopped packing, “what?”

“she—it was supposed to be a joke. a joke to make you stop tickling me. it’s dumb because i don’t think things through. but that’s why i need you— i need you to be there so you can stop me from doing the stupid shit that i do,” he looked at you to see if you were looking at him.

and you were, you looked pissed. he sighed and bent down on his knee, pulling out the ring he had gotten weeks ago.

“y/n, i know i’m dumb. but please, forgive me for this stupid prank, and please stay with me forever. don’t leave, please.”

“stand up.”

he did so, and he wasn’t sure what to expect, but a slap across the face wasn’t it.

“you’re a fucking idiot, tooru oikawa,” you laughed, kissing him. “but— i suppose that’s why i’m here. and i’m not leaving.”

he beamed at those words, he wasn’t sure if he smiled wider in his entire life. he kissed your cheek repeatedly, “i love you so much

kuroo tetsuro

PLEASE- he would set you upppppp

giving you hints, to where he is

but not random hints, it would be like a mini time line of your relationship

he would through a lil chemistry is there to mess with you

lovingly, though<3

you woke up alone in bed, a little confused since your boyfriend would always be there— to kiss you good morning.

you rolled over to grab your phone from its charger, looking at the text message from kuroo.

boyfrie tetsu<3

good morning baby<3 sorry i’m not there this morning, let’s play a little— hide and seek game, the prize is a big one!

the first hint: we didn’t quite meet there, but it was where i became your “boyfriend” for the first time

good luck baby!<3

you were confused by his text, and honestly, you almost wanted to ignore it. it’s too damn early for this.

but, you can’t. you knew he was going to be waiting for you, and you can’t leave him all alone.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you groaned and started your day. you still got dressed none the less, and went to a café you always go to.

as the barista handed you your drink, you saw a note on it.

dear y/n,

you’re probably here for your morning coffee, but, none the less, this is where we first started to ‘date’! that one guy who wouldn’t stop hitting on you, and your prince charming (aka me aka the most handsome man ever) came to your rescue;)

where we promised each other is your new hint, good luck!<3

you knew where it was once you read the bolder letters. you thanked, and tipped the barista. you were more than happy to remember the memory.

“tetsu, it’s so late out, what if we get kidnapped!” you ranted your anxieties to him.

“kidnapped? you think anyone would dare to fight your prince charming?” he kissed your head as you two walked. “we’re almost there.”

he led you to the bridge that curved over the water like a C shape. you both leaned forward on the cement railing and looked at the moon.

“i’m so in love with you, y/n.” he admitted out of the blue, you looked at him.

“i’m in love with you too, tetsu.” you leaned your head on him, he wrapped an arm around you.

“i know we’re only in highschool. but i promise, i’ll marry you.”

“i’ll be waiting for that day, tetsu. even if it’s till we’re sixty, or if we’re only in our young twenties and being stupid. i’ll be waiting for you.”

you both melted at each other’s words, you shared a passionate kiss.

you ran up to where the bridge was. your pace slowed as your boyfriend came into view. he was holding flowers, and a lock.

you panted, “i hate running tetsu.” you breathed out, he laughed at you. “i know, sorry.”

you stood straight, looking at what he was wearing. it looked fancier than usual. “what’s the lock for?” you asked.

he looked at it and smiled, “i remember, it was our second year of college. you were so mad that they changed the bridge. that they changed the fencing, and couples started to put locks on it.”

“..and?”

“and i was thinking we could do one too?” he questioned. you smiled and grabbed the lock. you bent down and locked it, he wrote both of your initials on it.

you stood up, but your boyfriend stayed on his knee.

“tetsu what are you doing?”

he pulled a little box from his back pocket, a few pedestrians stopped and watched what was happening.

“when we were sixteen, we made a stupid promise to each other at midnight on this bridge. and i promised i would marry you. y/n, i told you ten years ago, when we were sixteen, that i love you.” he paused for a second to look up at your face, which was in shock. “and i still do, so please, keep the promise and marry me.”

“oh my god, oh my god! yes yes!” you got on your knees with him. he laughed at you for getting on your knees with him instead of waiting for him to stand up.

you tackled him in a hug while other people clapped for you two.

bokuto kotarou

tbh this stressed him out

he wasn’t sure when, how, or what to say

you two had talked about marriage and how you two would gladly marry each other

but he wasn’t sure when!!!

he kept the ring on him at all times just incase:)

you and bokuto were just returning from a walk. the snow was heavier than expected by you two, so when you got home to a pile of snow, you were thrilled.

“kou let’s make a snowman! like we did with your old team, c’mon!” you dragged him by the hand to your front yard.

you and bokuto were always childlike in your relationship, you two getting excited at the tiniest things that makes you two act like children. so when you saw the snow, you felt more than joy.

you began by making a small snowball in your hand, and rolling it as you walked around your yard, to form a big snowball for the base. by the time you were done with the biggest snowball, bokuto was done with the medium sized one.

“okay, if we pick it up at the same time, it shouldn’t break,” you lifed the medium sized snowball with him. you set it on top of the biggest one.

“hey hey hey! y/n! let me make the tinniest one while you get the scarf, carrot, and eyes and smile,” he suggested. you nodded and kissed his cold cheek before heading inside to quickly grab the items.

you grabbed a pink scarf, a white hat that kou got you one year, and a carrot and some coal for the eyes and smile.

when you headed outside, you saw the snowman was all made. your insides felt bubbly as your childlike happiness was showing.

you ran out to him. “i got everything kou!”

“okay! you decorate, and don’t turn around until i say so. i have a surprise for you,” he replied. you were confused at what the surprise could be, but you agreed none the less.

you put the carrot in the middle of the snowman’s face. you then placed the eyes, and tried your best to make the smile symmetrical.

you wrapped the scarf around it’s neck, and put the hat on top. “okay kou, i’m done! can i turn around?”

there was a short pause, “okay now you can.”

you turned around to him on his knee, holding out a ring. your mouth dropped open to see writing in the snow.

will you marry me? ♥︎

“yes! yes yes!” you basically screamed, tackling him and kissing him repeatedly.

“the ring! wheres the ring?” he questioned. you both started to dig it up in the snow, laughing at how stupid you two were.

you found it, and slid it on your finger. “i cant wait to marry you, baby.” your hands slid up and down his chest before you kissed him.

#[fairyakaashi]🥮 #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq fluff #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa fluff #kuroo fluff #bokuto fluff #.nonnie<3 #.requests<3

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

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

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now. 

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them. 

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left. 

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though,  Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it. 

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier. 

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click. 

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

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

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything. 

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam. 

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side. 

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

 " -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed. 

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news. 

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.  

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

 Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me." 

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind." 

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh." 

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach. 

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"  

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat." 

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't." 

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R;  a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

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

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in. 

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?  

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?" 

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

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

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone. 

"Yes, sir. As you requested." 

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,”  Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.” 

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

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

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions. 

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall. 

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying. 

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley,  please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course." 

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology. 

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that. 

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest. 

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again.  Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

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

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. 

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions. 

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron? 

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

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

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko@callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow@jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801 @debmcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @queenrileyrose @cordonia-gothqueen

FRI Tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3  @drrookie @busywoman​ @sfb123​ @masterofbluff​

#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #bbrandy2002

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 1

Summary: After a close call with a reporter that resulted in Simon getting hurt, Linda makes a difficult and heartbreaking decision. Meanwhile, Wilhelm returns to Hillerska, hoping to at least rekindle his friendship with Simon, only to find that even that was no longer possible.

Title inspired by Taylor Swift's "Come Back, Be Here."

Note: So... after several weeks of obsessing... I finally did it... I finally wrote Young Royals fanfic. And, I really shouldn't because I have Grad school and a part-time job and I barely have time to breathe.Speaking of that, I probably won't have a consistent update. There might be times when I disappear for several weeks. Please be patient and understanding with me, I'm still trying to balance school and work.

AO3 link

It was supposed to be a normal day of running errands – a trip to the grocery store, dropping off mail at the post office, and maybe getting ice creams as a treat on the way home. But, no, Simon should have known better than to think that his life would somehow go back to normal during Christmas. After all, the prince had denied his involvement in the viral video and Simon had broken up with him to give both of them some space. This all happened only a week ago.

But, even after all that trouble and heartbreak, here he and his family were, being chased down their own street by paparazzi with their stupid cameras and fake sympathy.

“Simon, won’t you tell us your side of the story?”

“Is Prince Wilhelm lying? Are you in a relationship?”

“Mrs. Erikkson, how did you react when you found out your son may have been involved with the prince?”

“Don’t say anything,” his mother hissed in Spanish, clutching Simon and Sara’s arms tighter against her side.

The plastic bag of groceries was digging into Simon’s skin and he wished he could adjust his grip but he didn’t dare slow down. Those hyenas at his heels could catch them and he didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.

But, then, Sara let out a startled scream. A reporter had grabbed her arm, making her drop the groceries. Clementines rolled out of the bag and onto the pavement.

And, just like that, Simon saw red.

“Let go of her!”

He ripped his arm from his mother’s hold and lunged at the reporter, pushing him away from his shaking sister. The reporter, a middle-aged man who had probably been doing this for a long time, released Sara. But, before Simon could pull her away to safety, searing pain exploded at his cheek. He tasted the blood before he even realized what had happened.

His mom and Sara screamed.

The other reporters began to yell at the first one. Things like “What is wrong with you?!” and “Fuck, you can’t touch our sources like that! We’re gonna get sued!”

His name was being called. It sounded like Sara.

But, Simon, feeling dazed and tired, just stared up at the bright blue sky. He didn't even realize he had fallen to the ground. It was a nice day, though.

It should have been an ordinary nice day.

 .....

“Thank you, officer, we really appreciate your help.”

“Just doing our job, ma’am. Please don’t hesitate to call us over if you see any more suspicious individuals around your home. We’ll send someone over, immediately.”

“Thank you.”

Linda bid the police officers a good day and shut the door. With them gone, she finally lowered her mask and allowed the weariness of the day to manifest in her bones. She leaned back against the closed door, letting out the breath she had been holding.

No matter how many times she had dealt with the police, it never failed to make her exhausted. She should be used to this by now.

When she and the kids still lived with Micke, it wasn’t uncommon for neighbors to call the cops to complain about her ex-husband disturbing the peace. Mostly because he was yelling at her and the children. Sometimes, even hurting her. (He never touched the children. Linda never let him. The one and only time he almost laid a hand on Sara was finally when Linda finally gathered her children, important documents, and a few meager possessions and fled into the night.)

Linda believed that they were past all that. That in this new life she built for herself and her children, they would never have to call the police to their home or worry about their safety ever again. But, after what happened to Simon today, she could no longer hold on to that dream. Not for the time being.

She knew what she had to do to keep her son safe, even if it hurt her. Even if Simon would resent her. She hoped he wouldn’t. That he would see that she was doing this for him.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Linda straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, and began to make her way back to the living room, where she could clearly hear her children bickering on the couch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sara asked her brother.

“I’m fine,” Simon answered, sounding annoyed. “He didn’t even hit me that hard.”

“You could have hit your head!”

“But, I didn’t.”

“You should have left him alone.”

“He touched you!”

Sara pressed her lips together and looked away as she dabbed ointment to her brother’s bruised lip. Simon flinched, which made his sister’s lips quirk to an amused smile.

But, despite her children looking seemingly okay, joking around and teasing each other the way they always did, Linda couldn't stop looking at that dark mark marring her son’s handsome face. 

Clearing her throat, she stepped into the living room.

“Mi amor, how are you feeling?” she asked, sitting on Simon’s other side.

“I’m fine, mama,” he replied, immediately. “It’s just a scratch, it will heal in a few days.” He grinned. “It makes me look badass though, right?”

Sara snorted. “More like reckless.”

“A reckless badass.”

“Mi amor,” Linda interrupted, gently, not wanting them to start bickering again. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Simon straightened up, looking serious. Linda’s chest felt heavy as she took his hand in hers and stroked it. Sometimes, she wished her children were still small and had no other care in the world except for what candy they could get at the grocery store that week.

“It’s about school,” she began.

“I’ll transfer back to Marieberg,” Simon said, misunderstanding where the conversation was going. “I don’t mind. Sara can stay at Hillerska, she has friends there now, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Besides, Rosh and Ayub are excited to have me back.”

Linda shook her head. “I don’t think you should go back to Marieberg either.”

At that, Simon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I should go to another school? There aren’t any others close by.”

Linda sighed as she looked her son in the eye. “When the… video… first came out...”

Simon flinched and looked down at his feet.

“... I thought about how to… protect you. Especially after what happened today-.”

“Mama, I can handle it,” he interrupted, still unable to look at her. “I was fine today.”

“No, you weren’t,” Sara interjected. “You got punched.”

Simon glared at her. “They’re just reporters, I can handle them.”

Linda squeezed his hand. “It’s not just the reporters, Simon. It’s also… the others. Remember that boy from the other day? He followed you home! He could have hurt you!”

Simon's eyes flashed in anger at the memory. “But, he didn’t, you drove him away. And I would have been fine, I could take him.”

“That doesn’t stop me from worrying!”

Linda ran a hand through her hair, frustrated and cursing her son’s stubbornness. Unfortunately, that was one thing he inherited from Micke.

“Anything could have happened and I can’t protect you! Not at school, not at the grocery store, not even here at home! And do you know what that does to me?! I worry about you every time you’re out of my sight, Simon!” 

Unbidden tears brimmed at Linda’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had to be strong. She was making the right decision.

“A few weeks ago, I called your Tia Elena. She already knew what happened, the news reached them...”

“Oh, God!” Closing his eyes, Simon groaned and fell back against the couch.

“… and she actually suggested that… you go to live with her for a while.”

Almost immediately, Simon’s eyes snapped open and he sat up. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure, before, because I don’t want you to be away from us. But, after what happened with that boy from the other day and the reporters today… I think this is the best thing for you.”

“To send me to America?! That’s the best thing for me?!”

Simon pulled his hand away from her hold and stood up, presumably to stalk off to his room.

Linda tried to blink away the tears. “Simon, mi amor, please! This is the only way to keep you safe!”

“You’re sending me away! From you and Sara and my friends! My whole life is here!”

“It’s only until this all dies down, I promise. You can transfer back to Marieberg next school year. But, just for this term. Please, Simon.”

She watched Simon’s stiff back as he processed her pleas.

“W-What about a visa?” he asked and the hope in it broke her heart. “Don’t I need one of those? And they take time, don’t they? By the time they process it, school’s gonna start and I still have to travel and-.”

“You have an appointment with the U.S. Embassy the day after tomorrow,” Linda interrupted. “Your Tia Elena took care of everything. She even sent some money along to help with the fees.”

“Oh.” Simon’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “W-Would they even have room for me?”

“There’s only her and Ana now ever since Ricardo left them. And she says you can work at her store to earn some extra money, if you want.”

From the corner of her eye, Linda spotted Sara, who was unusually quiet. Her daughter was staring at her brother, her face unreadable. It was difficult to read Sara these days. But, Linda hoped that her daughter understood why she was doing this.

Sara didn’t want to leave Hillerska and that was fine, she had gone ahead and applied for that Grant to be a resident. But, even if Simon applied for a Grant too and became a resident, he would still get chased by reporters. He would still get recognized and followed by creeps and people who wanted to do him harm in Bjarstard. But, in America, with Linda’s older sister, he could be safe from the scandal.  

“Is there really no other way?” Simon asked, softly.

Getting to her feet, Linda moved towards her son and wrapped him in her arms.

“Mi amor, I know this is difficult for you. It is for me, too. I want nothing more than for you to stay here in Sweden with me and your sister. But, I want you to be safe. I want people to stop stalking you and bothering you about something so… traumatic. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to go to school and live your life in peace. In America, no one knows who you are. You can live normally again, go to school, and even… date someone new.”

Simon flinched in her arms and she regretted her words.

What Simon had with Wilhelm was truly special, something for the books, the kind of love story you often watch on T.V. and read about in books. She had never seen Simon as happy as he had been when he was with the prince, even if they thought Linda didn’t know. (Of course, she knew! She was his mother!) It was only a shame that their story ended in a tragedy that not only broke her son’s heart but also brought negative and unwanted attention onto his life.

“Simon, please,” she begged. “Just for a few months, I promise, mi amor. And, then, you can come home and life will be back to normal, I’m sure. Please.”

Time felt like it was slowing down as they stood there in the middle of the living room, Simon slowly breaking in her arms and Sara only watching helplessly.

Finally, her son let out a breath. “Okay,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll go.”

Linda burst into tears and buried her face against the fabric of Simon’s orange sweatshirt.

Despite her own heart breaking into pieces at the thought of being away from her son, she was also so incredibly relieved.

 ......... 

The Christmas break was too long, in Wilhelm’s opinion.

He spent most of it making required public appearances, sitting in on council meetings, and attending royal parties. He went about his duties like a robot, his emotions numb and something in him broken. His mother thought he would get over it if she threw enough things at him to keep him busy enough to not think of Simon. But, obviously, it didn’t work.

Simon was the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the mornings and the last thing he thought of before he slept at night. He had tried texting but his texts went unanswered. His calls would result in just ring after ring after ring until voicemail picked up. He spent many hours just scrolling through Simon’s Instagram, not seeing any new posts. Rosh, Ayub, and Sara had all blocked him so he couldn’t even see any posts of Simon, if there were any.

During the yearly Christmas party hosted by the Royal family, it was normally Erik who had to socialize and make nice with all the nobility and distant relatives who came. But, this year, Wilhelm had to do it. And it was fine, at first. He managed to remember some names and those he didn’t remember, he managed to sidestep with a polite “sir” or “ma’am.” But, then… But, then!

His mother introduced to him the daughter of a Duke whose name he couldn’t remember. With the way his mother smiled and practically pushed the girl to his side, Wilhelm knew exactly what she was doing. It ruined the rest of the party for him, as well as that poor girl’s Christmas. Wilhelm was so annoyed that he ignored her when she tried to make conversation. Eventually, he caused her to break into tears when he bluntly said that he didn’t care who designed her dress.

The Queen tried to scold him, called him a disgrace, and demanded that he get himself together. Wilhelm only shot her a blank look, excused himself, and left the party.

There were no more attempts at setting him up after that.

So, when Christmas break ended and it was time to return to Hillerska, he was relieved. He dutifully packed his things, including the small Christmas gift he got for Simon. He was hoping that even if they couldn’t restart their relationship, they could still be friends. Wilhelm would take anything Simon was able to offer him right now, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Your Royal Highness,” Malin called through the door. “You’re supposed to be at the church in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Malin!” Wilhelm called back to her.

The prince looked over his appearance in the mirror one last time, making sure his school tie was tied properly and his jacket free of lint. Not that Simon would care about those, but Wilhelm wanted to look his best, for once. He even got a haircut over break. He wondered if Simon did, too. He couldn’t wait to see him.

Feeling the anticipation brimming inside him, Wilhelm made his way out of his room. He joined the others in leaving Forest Ridge to head to the church. Ahead of him, Henry and Walter waved, pausing to let him catch up to them.

Despite their initial impression on Wilhelm, they really did mellow out the more he got to know them. And when the video came out, they were the only ones who didn’t look at him weirdly (at least, not blatantly to his face) and never once asked about the video. They even texted him a Merry Christmas over break. He would take their company over August’s.

And, speaking of the devil, there was his traitor of a cousin now, pushing through the other boys to get to him. Wilhelm quickened his steps, not wanting to get caught in a conversation. He had successfully avoided him during the Christmas party at the palace after giving firm instructions to Malin and Johan to ensure that he didn’t get close to Wilhelm.

Luckily, his bodyguards were most likely doing exactly that as Wilhelm made it to the church and slipped into a pew without August catching up to him. Henry and Walter slid in after him, chatting about their holidays.

“Wonder what they’re singing this time,” Walter wondered aloud.

“Hope it’s something good,” Henry added.

Wilhelm only smiled, his annoyance at August finally melting away and replaced by excitement to see Simon and hear him sing again. Christmas break was too long.

Finally, the whole church had filled up and the Headmaster signaled for everyone to be quiet.

The choir entered.

Wilhelm spotted Felice and gave her a small wave. She had remained a great friend to him throughout the break.

As the choir began their song, Wilhelm scanned the heads, looking for that familiar head of curls. Someone else was doing a solo this time, a girl he didn’t know and her voice was nice but it wasn’t Simon. Why wasn’t Simon doing the solo?

Wilhelm couldn’t even hear the song or decipher the lyrics. His eyes desperately scanned all three rows but he couldn’t spot Simon.

Where was Simon?!?! Did he miss the first day of school?!?!

But, Sara was just a few pews ahead. She wouldn’t leave home without her brother.

The excitement that had earlier filled him turned into fear.

Did Simon quit the choir?!

Not caring about how it looked, Wilhelm scanned the pews across from them and the pews behind him, trying to spot those curls. But… he couldn’t see them. Not one strand.

The choir had finished singing now and the Headmaster had stood up to welcome them to another semester, go over the rules of the dorms, and list the school administration’s expectations from their students.

All of it went over Wilhelm’s head.

And, finally, they were dismissed to go to their first class of the day.

Wilhelm shot up and, muttering apologies to Henry and Walter, made his way out of the pew. He ignored the “hello’s” sent his way and hurried to the front.

Sara and Maddie were chatting with each other as they made their way down the aisle, all excited smiles and talking about how wonderfully Felice sang.

“Sara!”

The girl slowed down and froze upon seeing him. He saw the anger flash in those normally calm eyes. Then, she turned her gaze away and walked past him.

Wilhelm was not giving up.

He turned around and gave chase. “Sara! Sara, wait! I just need to ask you something.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Prince,” she seethed, not stopping.

He hated to do it but he gently grasped the arm of her school jacket. “Please, I need to ask you. Where’s Simon?”

Sara pulled her arm away, glaring at him. “Why do you ask?”

Wilhelm swallowed. “He didn’t sing with the choir. And I can’t find him anywhere and I just-.”

“He doesn’t go to Hillerska anymore.”

Wilhelm’s heart stopped. “What?”

Sara shrugged, turned on her heels, and walked away. Maddie shot Wilhelm a pitying look before hurrying off after her.  

His chest felt tight. And it seemed like there wasn’t enough air for him to breathe.

Simon... left?

#young royals #young royals netflix #simon x wilhelm #young royals fanfic

[notmrskennedy]

The List

(Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral?Reader)

A/N - In order to curb the crushing weight of being bested by a vacuum cleaner at work and stressing about my calc test, I’m posting this. I hope you all like it as much as the last one. Y’all are just the fuckin sweetest. 

Also, this was inspired by @definitelynotkatesblog and her awesome work Something to Cry About. It’s the cutest freakin thing. 

Summary - A little list on what makes Reader fall asleep at night...

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - swearing, but what’s new?

----

1. A Podcast Episode on Epicurus and the Hellenistic Age

“Spencer, christ,” you laugh, fluffing your curls. “I can assure you that I am not touchy and sharing a bed won’t kill us.”

Spencer fidgets in his spot in the doorway, crossing his arms to keep from shaking too much. Is it wrong to be jealous of your casualness surrounding this? Is it wrong to wish away that massive crush he’s got? Just at least for one night—pretty please with a cherry on top.

You wait with a half raised eyebrow at the side of the bed he clearly doesn’t sleep on. Your hand poised above the comforter like it’ll make his decision any quicker. Like you can’t see the turmoil that has to be written across his face.

Because what does this mean? What does it mean to sleep in the same bed with your best friend for the first time? What if you end up snuggled up in the morning? Is that bad? Is that good? Is he totally secretly wishing that’ll happen and spur you in falling in love with him just as much as he’s fallen for you?

He glances one more time between your calm eyes, the made bed, the clock, the giant college t-shirt you’re wearing, finally back to your face. He nods. Adds in a dash of blushing. A teaspoon of agreeing words.

You shake your head, smile at him like he’s an idiot—though he supposes he is with you—and wrench the covers back. Like you belong. He wants you to belong.

There’s still time to back out and sleep on the couch. Does he really want to?

He wills his feet forward. Tries to tell himself that this is just like every night. Sets his watch on the nightstand, plugs his phone in, slips into the covers.

“Hey, bud?”

He hums as he turns his head to look over at you. He’s still sat up in bed, hand poised over his stack of books. Are you going to tell him to turn out the light?

You smile, shifting your weight ever so slightly. You’re the restless sort and he wonders how you work the boring middle management job that you do. Pulling your lips back into a nervous smile, you gently say, “I can’t fall asleep to the quiet, do you mind if—“

“Do you want me to read to you?”

He hopes the excitement goes unnoticed. It seems to as you chuckle. “I wish it would work. You’re too interesting, Spencer Reid. Podcasts on Hellenistic philosophy however—do you mind if I listen? It won’t be too loud.”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.” Never for you.

“Thanks, Spence,” you chirp through a stifled yawn. And as you turn the podcast on and flip over to press tightly onto the pillow, you say, “and don’t worry. I promise I keep to my side of the bed.”

And unlike the liar he wishes you are, he wakes up to find that you are very true to your word.

2. Discovery Chanel, Documentary on Revolving Door Manufacturing

He’s never seen you cry before. You make it a point to keep saying between sobs, “I hate crying in front of other people. I’m so sorry.”

He can’t fathom why it’s you that’s sorry, not after you asked him to pick you up from your mother’s. The same mother who’s apparently found it within her purview to explain just how much she hates you over a nice dinner. He’s buzzing with anger on your behalf—anger that clearly isn’t shared, though he knows it’ll come later.

It takes roughly 20 minutes to get you over the hill, trading tears for tissues. Snot for begrudging smiles at his bad jokes. He’s promised himself that he will listen—for once in his goddamn life—to your whole story without interrupting. You seem to appreciate the sentiment, punctuating the whole experience with asking for one of those hugs that just never ends.

You try to explain it—“like cats, Spencer, you know?”—like he doesn’t already empathise completely.

And weirdly enough, it gets to a point where you two switch positions without breaking the crushing amount of contact you have. It gets to a point where you insist on watching the most boring documentary he’s ever seen on revolving door manufacturing. It gets to a point where you pass out after 15 minutes and turn over into his chest.

He doesn’t dare move. Not until he’s effectively sure you won’t be waking up anytime soon. Spencer falls asleep with your soft breath fanning across his chest and his hands tangled in your hair.

5. A Librivox Recording of ‘The Five Orange Pips’

Now this is ridiculous. And he says as much as you roll your eyes. You’re both sweaty and exhausted and he’s sure he’s never met someone who looked this awake after a romp at one AM. Your eyes are twinkling the same way someone does after they’ve run a mile and feel like they need to run another. You’ve got energy and he can’t fathom it.

“Spencer,” you whine, falling back into the bedsheets. It’s really the first official time you’ve spent at his house as more than a friend—much more. He’s gotten accustomed, understanding even, to the little podcasts you listen to to fall asleep. There’s no sense in understanding your sleeping habits, not yet at least, but he understands the boring, droning voices you let lull you to sleep.

But this! Sherlock Holmes?

“Y/n, I literally have the story on my bookshelf. I could read it to you if you’re so choosy!” he mirrors your position with a huff, already reaching out to drag you over into his side. The feel of your skin is addictive. The safest kind of high he can get. The only one he really wants.

You pout, sticking out your lip. It’s adorable and breaks the tweak of frustration resting hard in his features. “Love-bug, with you talking to me, I’d never fall asleep. It just doesn’t work like that and I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine,” he mutters, effectively pulling you close enough you can share the one pillow. You giggle, kiss his nose, and reach behind you for your phone. It takes five seconds for the Librivox recording to start and he realises that as he listens to the intro, he’s already dropping off. It’s understandable—he guesses—but he hopes that one day you’ll pick a story he hasn’t read already.

9. News in Slow Spanish

Listening to you get ready for bed will never be tiring, Spencer thinks. Not when he’s playing a game with himself. He’s so terrible at guessing what you’ll choose to listen to. There’s never any rhyme or reason. Never a solid thought process that he can decipher. He’s kept to making a list—half because he likes lists, half because he wonders how long it’ll get.

Four months in and he’s at number 9—more or less.

This one shocks him though. Has him poking his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still stuck in his mouth. You’re pulling your hair out of a pony tail, humming along to the intro music for a newscast in Spanish. Do you speak Spanish?

“Sugar plum—“ he loves every weird nickname you’ve given him over the months— “I can hear the whine of your brain from here.”

It’s then you turn to really look at him. Smirking. Gleaming in the shadows of the bathroom light. Wearing nothing more than a sports bra and shorts. His mouth runs dry as he tries to keep his thoughts present and clean.

He takes the toothbrush from his mouth. You giggle as he speaks through the spit. “Do you speak Spanish?”

“I must not talk about work enough,” you mutter to yourself, slipping into bed. Like you belong. “My entire job is setting up relationships between the hotel company I work for and Latin American, well, anything. Hotels, river cruises, restaurants—I speak Spanish more than I do English some weeks.”

He nods, finishes brushing his teeth to process the thought. No, you don’t talk about work enough, and he’s suddenly worried about what you don’t talk about. It suddenly feels suffocating. Like he doesn’t know a single thing about you. Like he’s never known anything about you.

But as you drag yourself into his side once he’s beside you, as you kiss his cheek and settle in, he’s reminded that he doesn’t need to know everything to care. For you to care back. There’s enough time in the world to figure out all the other stuff. He’s content to learn as it comes. Appreciate every new thing he can get his hands on.

And, hey, if you listen to this podcast enough, he might learn Spanish too.

11. Whose Line is it Anyway? Reruns

“No, absolutely not. I’m putting the kibosh on this. The applause will drive me wild. Please, y/n, anything else.”

15. Spencer

If there hadn’t been a nightmare involved, it wouldn’t have been as terrifying to find you not in bed. To hear the door latch click with someone’s arrival. Or someone’s departure.

He’s out of bed before he can process. Before his brain can calm down enough to remind him that it’s fine. That there’s no way a burglar is going to be as loud as you’re being in the next room over.

He jumps out of the bedroom, ready to strangle the intruder with his bare hands, when you give a startled shout, “Jesus christ!” 

Spencer settles. Realises that it’s just you in a sweatshirt and slippers. You look utterly exhausted in the dim light of the apartment. Fidgeting and restless despite the slump to your shoulders. He vaguely wonders if he should make you a pot of coffee to calm you down.

The world catches up to him and he slumps into the wall. Is it so wrong to be this decidedly tired after a nightmare that he could’ve sworn wasn’t coming back? The two of you stare each other down, both equally apprehensive to the other for decidedly similar reasons.

Spencer’s entire body is beginning to light on fire. He doesn’t want to burn you in the process.

You’re buzzing and tired and angry and there’s no reason to take any of that out on him.

“Can’t sleep?” he finally prompts.

You scrub your hands over your face, fluff your curls, in response. “I walked the stairs four times, bug. I’m so—“

“Frustrated?”

“Yes.”

He nods his head, waves you over. You half heartedly trudge over to him, lean your head into his chest and feel at least a tiny amount of frustration drift away. He pulls you both back to bed—he can’t believe he’s functioning this well, but maybe it’s just because he’s fulfilling the need to think about anything else. There’s a hesitance as you lay back down and he knows that you’ve probably tried everything. That you don’t believe you’ll get any sleep at 2:45 in the morning.

“You’ve worked through the list then?” he asks. Your eyebrows pinch as you settle onto your side, giving him your full attention. “The things that make you fall asleep,” he clarifies, “you know, that list.”

“Do you—do you keep a list?” your voice is almost judgemental, but decidedly too curious. He nods. “I’ve never had anyone care that much.”

“So where are you at?” he says instead. There’s too much to unpack. Too much for his still swimming brain. He needs something concrete. “What’ve you tried?”

You go through your list, letting every inch of agony you’ve faced for the last four hours creep over your face. Spencer watches as you turn over one more time and groan into the pillow. “I think I’d rather just suffocate at this rate.”

He chuckles. “Stop being dramatic. Come here, let me try something.”

“But—“

“Just—please, y/n?” he doesn’t understand your refusal to trust him sometimes—it’s always about such strange things, like how he does the dishes or what brand of milk to buy. You scoot over to him, settle into his chest with an indignant huff. As if you aren’t tightening around him like a vice.

He clears his throat, drags his fingers softly up and down your spine, and picks the most boring thing—for you at least—he can think of to recite: quantum physics. He feels you relax after a minute. Your eyes close and your nose sinks a little deeper into his shirt. It takes nearly two chapters to get you to zonk out. Long enough that he’s worried you were right, that he was just too interesting for you. Even if he was reciting quantum physics literature.

He keeps droning for a little time after he thinks you must be—have to be—asleep. And just as he settles, just as his eyes are closing and he could drift off peacefully, he doesn’t miss the ever quiet, ever gentle words, “You’re too interesting, Spence, too goddamn interesting.”

You roll over, your back pressed against his side. He wants to laugh. He doesn’t, just ends up dreaming of something nearly as peaceful as falling asleep beside you.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #Criminal Minds

[awkwxrdapple]

Sometimes - Javier Peña x Reader

“Sometimes, just sometimes, well alright maybe all of the time.” - Sometimes by Gerry Cinnamon (x)

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: What you have to know is that I am a sucker for “there was only one bed” style tropes. It’s just fluff and sleep related angst. With no back story, it just is what it is. This came to me while I was in the middle of my chem midterm so enjoy :) I’ve set it up for a second part I think, so we will see how it goes haha.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you ok?”

Javi exhaled smoke slowly. You weren’t expecting an honest answer, or any answer at all. You just had to ask. Watching him sit, slumped, on your sofa was worrying. The man looked exhausted. You were used to having him lounge lazily on your couch whenever he came round, but this time it was different. Before, he still had an air of confidence around him, whereas now he looked like he was ready to drop any minute.

After a few seconds of no reply you changed your question. 

“Are you sleeping?” 

“No.” 

The short, blunt answer startled you as you were still expecting to get nothing back from him. You were happy he was with you now, that he had come to your apartment. Something was clearly bothering him, and maybe a stranger wouldn’t have been able to tell, but luckily for Javi, you weren’t a stranger. Far from it. 

“Do you try to sleep?” It was a stupid question, but one you needed to ask. You knew his habits, he could spend all night out in a bar or a brothel to avoid sleep if he wanted to. The latter being one that brought a nasty taste to your mouth. 

“Not any more.” As you had expected. 

“Javi, you need to try.” Your voice was soft. 

“I have tried.”

“Try again then.” 

The lights of the buildings of Bogotá were bright against the inky blackness of the night sky. Your curtains were still open showing the proof that it was late. You had been sitting in each other's company for a while.

Javi saw you looking up at the window, and instantly felt guilt at keeping you up too. Just because he wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight, doesn’t mean that he has to stop you too. 

“I should go Y/N.” 

Bringing your attention back to Javi, he seemed to look even worse than he did a few minutes ago. There was no way you were going to let him out of your apartment to go and do God knows what until tomorrow morning when he would start the self-destructive cycle all over again. 

“No, I want you to stay. Please.” 

“Why? You need to go to sleep and I’m keeping you up.” Javi removed himself from your sofa and took steps towards your door. 

“Javi, look at me.” He did stop and brought his gaze to yours. “Would you sleep if you stayed here?”

Your question threw him slightly. It was something he had never considered as to him, that would be a huge imposition on you. But now you were the one to mention it, maybe it would work. He had nothing to lose in the sleep department. He either would, or he wouldn’t. Yet, he also had a lot else to lose. Staying here, in your apartment, knowing you were lying peacefully only a room away, had so many domestic connotations. That was a reason he had never considered staying at yours ever, because could he put himself through that? The magnetic pull he felt around you would be ever harder to resist if he said yes. 

As soon as he let himself slip just once, it would be harder the next time. And then all his worries of keeping you safe and out of his complicated, dangerous life would manifest into reality.

“You can sleep in my room and I will have the sofa. I really don’t mind.” 

Your eyes were pleading him to stay. 

“Thank you. But I can’t. But thank you.” 

Trying not to look at you again, Javi left your apartment before you could try any harder to convince him to stay. 

+  +  +

The next time Javi knocked on your apartment door, it was much later in the evening. You had even been lying in bed for the past half an hour reading. The knocking on your door had startled you considering the hour.

“Javi, what-” 

“Can I take you up on your offer?” He was leaning against the door frame in a way to hold himself up. His body language screamed of fatigue. You wondered how his day had gone. Had he been on a stakeout? Had it been dangerous? 

“What offer?” You were confused for a moment. 

“Sleep… here.” It almost pained him to admit he wanted the comfort and safety of your apartment. 

Your eyes widened when you finally realised what “offer” he was referring to and opened your door further to let him in. 

“I don’t want to bother you at all.” Javi started, wandering over to your couch. “You won’t even know I’m here, apart from the fact I’ll be on your couch.” He let himself fall heavily down onto the cushions. 

“Javi it’s fine don’t worry. You can have my bed if you want and I’ll sleep out here.” You walked to the linen cupboard to reach down a spare pillow and blanket.

Even before he entered your apartment he knew you would say this, and he had planned what he would say in return. There was no way he was going to have you give up your own bed. He was the one imposing on you. 

He hadn’t even consciously realised he was at your door until you had opened it to reveal you wearing pyjama shorts and a tank top. You found it hard to sleep sometimes in the Colombian heat. The amount of skin on show surprised Javi, making him even more aware of your presence. The thrill of the idea of running his hands over every part of your exposed skin was intoxicating. If he wasn’t so utterly exhausted he may have done. Soft. That’s the first word that came to mind upon seeing you in cozy clothing. 

“No, I’m fine here, honestly.” At least Javi had the strength to fight you on this. 

You considered him for a moment, weighing up your points for a good counter argument, but he had already made himself comfortable. Instead, you just handed him the pillow and blanket. 

“Thank you, hermosa.” Javi drawled lazily shoving the pillow underneath his dark hair. 

The nickname didn’t go unnoticed. Your Spanish was good enough to know what he had called you. You wanted to revel in it, allow yourself a small bit of joy that he used that word to address you. Until you remembered that you probably weren’t the first, or last, girl to be called that by Javier Peña. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You saw he had already closed his eyes. And for the first time in weeks you could finally describe him as peaceful. You were going to ask him about his day at work, to try and work out what had finally made him come to you, but by doing so now you would only disturb his peace. 

+   +   +

You woke suddenly, and surprised yourself by the blackness of your room. It still wasn’t morning yet. Your phone read 4:32. 

Remembering Javi was in your apartment, you had the urge to see if he was actually asleep. Was being here actually giving him any respite against his insomnia? 

Trying not to make any noise, you crept to your bedroom door and opened it as quietly as possible. From here you could see his figure lying still on the sofa. A thin sliver of light from in between the drawn curtains shed a small amount of light into the main room. You could tell from the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that he was in fact, asleep. 

Smiling to yourself you closed the door again and retreated back into the darkness.

+   +   +

Javi sleeping on your couch sometimes became routine very quickly. 

You had got used to leaving the pillow and blanket there every evening, as more often than not he would turn up to use it. You liked it, it was nice knowing where he was, and even nicer to know that when he needed someone, he came to you. 

When you offered him your spare key he was incredibly reluctant to take it. You wanted him to have it so he could come and go as he pleased at night. You knew staying at his own apartment wasn’t working for him, so you wanted to give him freedom in another safe space. 

Eventually, he did accept the key, and sometimes he did use it. Whether that be to leave and come back at night for something, or to let himself in if you had gone out for the evening. You would come back to find him passed out in your living room, the curtains still open giving the tranquil scene an urban backdrop. You would creep around him and close them silently, before retiring to your own bed. 

Amazingly, you found your sleep had improved too. Although some nights you were more aware of the man in your apartment with you. Knowing he was in the other room was soothing, but at the same time maddening. The fact that you were too good friends meant you could never offer your own bed to him, with you still in it. No matter how much you wanted to. So you just were content with knowing that you were helping a friend. Javi had started to look better even from the first night he had spent at yours, something that only got better with time. 

One night was very different though. 

You had just finished eating dinner at the little breakfast bar in your kitchen when Javi practically stumbled into your apartment. At first you thought he was drunk, but then it became apparent that something else ailed him. There was a horrible purple bruise on the side of his face. 

“Javi!” As soon as you saw him you ran towards him and helped him to sit down. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

“Well it’s obviously not.”

You cautiously brought the tips of your fingers to the afflicted skin. He winced as you touched it - just as you thought. It wasn’t fine. 

“What happened?” Your voice was almost a whisper. You knew what he did for a job, you knew it was dangerous, but only now were you seeing that with your own eyes. In all the time you’d known Javi, you had seen him get into a few scrapes but nothing as bad as this. The bruise covered from next to his right eye all the way down his cheek. 

“One of Escobar’s sicarios had a gun, which ran out of ammo, so he used it in another way.” 

You were still inspecting the damage. There was no obvious swelling so icing it wouldn’t do anything now. Rest is what he needed. 

“Please tell me you managed to get a few punches in too.”

“Unluckily for him, my gun was working perfectly.”

“Ah…” You wondered how the other guy managed to get so close.

Javi turned to look you dead in the eye. Your face was already so close to his and the close proximity almost winded you. You had always been fascinated by his dark brown eyes. You hadn’t known anyone to have eyes as dark but still so lovely to look at, because they were so warm, and comforting. Yet, there was something else that was there too. Something that may be considered wary or even haunted. What had Javi witnessed as part of his job? 

Neither of you had said anything for a few moments, however neither of you had made a move to shift away from each other.  

“Has work been a lot like this recently?” He could still hear your whisper even though you could barely hear yourself. 

“Yeah it’s been… difficult lately.” 

“You are so brave and strong though Javi.” He winced at your words. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.” 

“I don’t, not from you. You’re just wrong.” 

“No I’m not. You are, even if you don’t believe it.” You allowed your words to be flooded with determination. You hated that he thought this way about himself. 

Javi leant forwards and instinctively put his head in his hands. He winced again at the contact. The affection you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming. 

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not really, I feel more dizzy than anything.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“No I don’t. Cause for one, this was an unauthorised stakeout.”

“Javi.” 

“Y/N please, just let me rest.” 

Putting everything else aside and prioritising Javi’s well-being you found yourself saying, “Come and lie down on my bed.” The couch was no place for someone injured. 

You briefly saw a flash of worry cross his face. Was the thought of lying on your bed so bad? 

You helped him up and he leant on you on the way into your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes at the door and you allowed him to lie on his back. 

“You know you shouldn’t be left alone.” 

“I know, that’s why I came here, because I know you would watch out for me.” 

You were now lying on your side next to him, and upon hearing that you felt a blush creep into your cheeks. You would always watch out for him. You were glad he knew that. 

“You should rest.” You moved to get up but a strong arm caught your arm. 

“Stay please.” 

“I was only going to get the blanket to sleep on the floor in here.”

“No I mean, stay here. Please.” His hand was still wrapped around your forearm. 

“Ok.” You agreed, and settled back onto the bed, bringing the sheets up over the both of you. 

“Goodnight Javi.” You said softly, for what felt like the millionth time recently. That in itself was soothing. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” 

Every cell in your body was on fire as you could feel his body heat radiating through your bed. You wanted to reach out and have some physical contact with him. Nevertheless, you knew he needed rest, and you were only friends, so there were boundaries. You rolled over to give him space and willed yourself to sleep. 

+   +   +

The first thing you thought when you woke up was how warm you were. Not an uncomfortable heat, just nice warmth. 

Javi’s arm was around you. 

Sometime through the night he had moved so his chest was up against your back. The muscles of his arm were strong and solid. You wondered if he had moved consciously, or unconsciously. You couldn’t decide which was better. He was definitely still asleep though, as the rhythm of his breathing was even and shallow. 

You, consciously, snuggled back into his embrace, and could feel yourself dozing off again until you were startled by movements from him. Javi’s arm tightened around you even more and he moved so his face was nestled into your neck, you could feel his nose lightly touching your skin. 

You couldn’t help but grin. You thought about all the times he had slept in your apartment but not in your room with you - it was a waste. You’d both been missing out on this. Maybe in Colombia this was the closest feeling to home you both of you would get. 

Masterlist 

#this is actually the first time ive written for any of the pedro boys #just fancied writing this one #to see how i could do and whether i want to do anymore in the future #javier pena #narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #storyofavengers

[nineteenninety-six]

Could I request some angst of the Shelby boys coming back from the war only to be told that their baby sister (Finns twin or maybe younger, whichever your prefer) is dying of the Spanish flu

I changed my mind about how this would end about midway through writing it lol

TAG LIST: @futuristicslimemongerbanana @dayna041101 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sweetgoodangel @shadow-of-wonder

WC:2126

It’s Too Early To Say Goodbye

When Tommy and his brothers stepped off of the train at Small Heath station, they expected to see their aunt and younger siblings, ecstatic to see them after so long but they were only greeted by Ada and Finn, who looked happy to see them but were also weighed down by something. 

They instantly knew something was wrong and they felt out of place as their fellow soldiers reunited with their family, the tears of joy and screams of happiness of the people around them turned into muffled background noise as they approached their brother and sister.

Finn ran ahead and leapt in Arthur’s arms, the eldest Shelby brother easily holding the ten-year-olds weight and Ada ran into John’s arms when they got closer. There wasn’t a dry eye between them as they reunited with each other but eventually, the elephant in the room had to be talked about.

“Ada, where’s Polly and (Y/N)?” Tommy asked

Ada seemed to shudder before she looked around at the crowd around them, “Let’s get out of here first and then I’ll tell you.”

The eldest Shelby brothers looked at each other in confusion but followed as she left the station and to a quiet place around the corner. Finn was back in Arthur’s arms and had buried his head in Arthur’s neck, hands tightly clenching his shirt.

“(Y/N) has the Spanish flu…” Ada quickly began to cry as she talked about her younger sister, “Polly’s with her now, didn’t want to leave her alone.”

Tommy stared at his sister in shock before he suddenly brushed past his siblings and rushed home, not even bothering to wait for them, his mind focused on his little sister.

(Y/N) was closer to a daughter than a sister to Tommy. She and Finn were twins, (Y/N) younger by a few hours and when their mother suddenly died a few years after their birth, Tommy had taken the role of a parent for them. Arthur, with the occasional help from Polly, looked after John and Ada and he and Tommy had to find ways to support their family. Their father was a deadbeat, so it was left to two young men, barely out of their teens to support and provide for the family.

Tommy and (Y/N) had a special bond, and it was no secret they were each other’s favourite sibling but (Y/N) was six when Tommy left and now four years later, Tommy wondered if they were still going to be each other’s favourites since so much had happened and so much time had passed-if (Y/N) survives that is. 

As soon as he opened the door to the house on Watery Lane, Tommy threw his bag to the side, not caring where it landed and thundered up the stairs. Polly met him on the landing and while her eyes watered at the sight of him, she knew it wasn’t the time for a reunion. Tommy’s thoughts were only on (Y/N).

“Don’t get too close, Tommy.” His aunt warned him and Tommy gave her a weak nod in understanding before he slipped past her and into the room.

The sight Tommy was greeted with was the first thing to make him feel sick in over three years. Tommy thought France had desensitised him, he had gotten used to the sight and smell of death, he had walked past countless of dead and dying men, there were even times where he walked over them, in the tunnels in France he no longer feared death and had even expected it but the sight in front of him struck a new fear in him. 

(Y/N) was placed in the middle of the bed, a light blanket was thrown over her so that she didn’t overheat but Tommy could see how she was soaked in sweat. 

Tommy made his way over to her, his heart racing and his mouth dry, the sight of her looking so poorly and helpless made him want to cry and he felt himself tear up as he pulled her hand out from under the blanket and tightly gripped it in his.

(Y/N) stirred from the movement and blinked warily at him, “Aunt Pol…?”

“It’s me, princess. It’s Tommy.” 

(Y/N) merely blinked some more before she drifted back off to sleep.

Tommy could hear the loud stomps from his brothers as they climbed the stairs and moments later the door quietly opened and they shuffled in. He didn’t turn around to face them, only focused on (Y/N), though he heard Arthur’s muttered ‘Jesus Christ’ and John’s whispered ‘Fuck’.  They moved to the end of the bed and looked at their baby sister with sad eyes but they didn’t dare to get any closer.

“I know you this is not what you wanted to come home to and that you probably wanted to celebrate but this has to be brief, I can’t afford anyone else getting sick” Polly told them as she slipped inside with a bowl of water and some rags, “Especially not you John, you need to care for your kids.” 

Arthur and John nodded, giving their baby sister one last pity filled stare before leaving but Tommy remained.

“Tommy-“

“I’m not leaving Polly” Tommy interrupted whatever his aunt was going to say.

Polly sighed, “Then you can help me then. Pat her down and keep her cool with the wet cloth and I’ll make her some soup. Hopefully, she eats.”

Tommy harshly swallowed and nodded, taking the bowl from his aunt and soaking the cloth before ringing it out and dabbing it on (Y/N)’s forehead.

Polly lingered by the door, not yet leaving, “She dips in and out of sleep a lot, you should talk to her. She missed you a lot and I bet your voice will comfort her.”

Tommy nodded but didn’t speak until he heard her going downstairs.

“I missed you, princess” Tommy murmured after a few moments, “I missed you so much but your parts in the letters helped me a lot. I think I can recite all of them from memory now, considering the number of times I re-read them.”  

Tommy continued to cool her down with the rag, brushing it over her arms and chest, “Don’t tell anyone but I missed you the most.”

(Y/N) shifted slightly causing Tommy to freeze in his place but once it was obvious she was still asleep he continued.

“At one point, I was more afraid to come back and have you not recognise or remember me than I was to die.” He confessed, “You were so young when I left, still basically a little kid and I didn’t want to leave you, I hope you know that.”

As Tommy got carried away talking openly and patting her down, he missed how (Y/N) slowly blinked her eyes open and how she tiredly stared at him

“Tom?” She croaked, her throat dry.

Tommy whipped his head up when she said his name and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he climbed onto the bed and pulled the ten-year-old into his arms, pulling her tightly against him. (Y/N) didn’t seem to be bothered that she had been suddenly dragged into an awkward position as she weakly wrapped her arms around Tommy.

Tommy started to cry, too much was happening at once, he was still suffering from the war, he was finally back home and his baby sister is deathly sick and he couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Hello, princess” Tommy pulled back and gently laid her back down in the bed as she wasn’t in the clear yet. 

Tommy helped her sip the water that Polly had left out before he laid down next to her on the bed not wanting to move away even for a bit. He pulled her close to him, frowning at the heat that was radiating from her body before soaking the cloth back up and patting her face with it. 

“I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) murmured.

Tommy smiled at her, “I missed you too and when you get better, we’ll go horseriding, okay?”

(Y/N) smiled back at him, excitement lighting up her eyes before she slumped back down in the bed, still clearly exhausted, “‘m hungry.”

“Polly’s making you some soup, she shouldn’t be long.” Tommy combed his fingers through her hair, something that had always calmed and comforted (Y/N).

“You here for good? Not going back to France?” 

“I’m not going back to France princess, don’t worry” Tommy pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Polly found Tommy cuddled up to (Y/N) in her bed when she returned with her dinner and she sent Tommy a scathing glare, it had been hell trying to look after (Y/N) and she hated the idea of it spreading through the house.

Tommy shrugged apologetically at his aunt before he helped (Y/N) sit up so that she could eat. The room was silent as (Y/N) ate until she finished and complained to her aunt that she was hot and sticky, so when Polly left to get a bath ready for her, Tommy and (Y/N) were left alone again. 

“If I get better…can we go to the fair?” (Y/N) asked

“There’s no if, you are going to get better and when you do, I’ll take you to fair, okay?” Tommy told her.

Polly came in to get (Y/N) for her bath and after Tommy carried her to the bathroom, he let them do what they had to do while he went downstairs to his brothers. Arthur was playing with Finn, who immediately ran over to him as soon as he spotted him and Tommy felt guilty that he had forgotten his youngest brother in favour of their sister.

“Alright, Finn? Did you hold down the fort whilst we were away?” Tommy asked as he lifted his brother up.

Finn nodded, “I’m glad you’re back...too many girls”

Both Arthur and Tommy laughed at his words, Finn had been surrounded by women for the past four years but now his brothers were back.

Tommy spent some more time with Finn until Polly told him that (Y/N) was done with her bath and was asking for him. When he reached her room, he found her tucked up and waiting for him.

“Can you tell me a story?” She asked as soon as he stepped in.

Tommy settled into the seat next to her bed and began to recite a story that he knew off by heart. It was (Y/N)’s favourite story and before the war, she demanded that he read it to her every night and after so long, he no longer needed the book because he remembered every word.

(Y/N) fell asleep quickly, the illness draining so much of her energy and Tommy sat there watching her sleep, his eyes focused on the movements of her chest, making sure she was still breathing. He would forgo sleep every night until she was better if he had to.

He didn’t notice Polly slip in until she spoke up, “She’s a Shelby girl, she’ll beat this.”

“I spent four years in France, digging tunnels day in day out and fighting men so that you were safe over here. Then I come home and I find my baby sister on death’s door.” Tommy’s voice was quiet, “It’s not fucking fair”

“It’s not but she will pull through and I know you will do anything for the little girl. You’ll make sure so that she’s never wanting and you’ll protect her from everything you can.”

“She’s not going to die. I won’t let her.” Tommy declared.

Polly felt her lips pull into a smile in the first time in a while before she left them alone.

True to Tommy’s words, (Y/N) didn’t die. Thanks to her aunt’s determined efforts, (Y/N) pushed through the worst of the flu and over the following weeks (Y/N) returned back to full health, she regained the weight she lost and was quickly becoming bored of being confined to bed which had turned her to start trying to convince her brothers to ignore Polly’s instructions but none of them was willing to face a telling off by their aunt. But soon enough, (Y/N) was out of the bed and back to causing mischief with her twin.

Tommy and Polly watched as (Y/N) ran around with Finn, both of them giggling as they chased each other.

“I told you she’ll be fine” Polly told him

“I know.” Tommy gave her a smile before he rounded up his youngest siblings so they could go to the fair as he promised. 

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #sister!reader #imagines #john shelby imagines #arthur shelby imagines

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 4

I’m running out of pre-written chapters :’D

Day 4 of @biodad-bruce-month event!

Chapter 4: Habits

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

-

School wasn’t the same without Jason around.

The ride to school was silent, the rain falling that morning didn’t help. If anything, it only made Amira feel colder. 

Walking the halls without him by his side was torture, Amira missing his banter over the latest book he was reading. Their banter of the pronunciation of a word they were learning in spanish class. How did she ever deal with the solitude and whispers behind her back when she used to be by herself?

Gym class was terrifying, Amira finding herself leaning against the wall as everyone else got into groups to play dodgeball. Some groups avoided her gaze while some looked at her and sneered. That’s right. Amira only played with Jason since he never held back simply because she was a girl. He was the only one who treated her as an equal. He was the only one who was willing to pair with her, no one else never daring to approach them.

All her other classes seemed to go the same way, finding herself alone and in a corner of the room or isolated from the groups formed during science.

Lunch was something she never knew she would dread. It felt like everyone watched her every move. That she was judged with each step she took. No longer being able to bear the torture, Amira ran to the school library, ignoring the looks she got as she ran there.

Slumping into a lone cubicle on the second floor of the library, Amira looked around. There was no one else there, only a librarian at the front desk. 

She took out her workbook, deciding to do something with her uneasy mind. And if anything, she could stay here until the school day ended. Father would understand.

She didn’t know how long she had been there, how engrossed she was with her work until she got a tap on the shoulder. Amira quickly grabbed the hand, bending a finger back. 

“A..mira, it’s me. Dick.” She quickly let go, averting her gaze from him.

“Dick? How did you find me?” Amira asked, dumping her things into her bag. “And sorry.”

“It’s alright. And the dismissal bell rang half an hour ago. As to how I found you, a classmate of yours saw you run out of the school lunchroom. Said I might find you here.” Dick explained, soothing his finger.

Richard watched as Amira averted her gaze, Richard noticing her digging her nails into her palm. “Amira, you alright?” When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “Sorry, that was stupid of me to ask.” 

He didn’t expect Amira to hold his hand, her grasp tight.

“He’s gone forever, isn’t he?” Richard heard her voice crack, watching a tear slip down her face. “He won’t ever come back, right?”

Dick quickly brought her closer to him, letting her cry into his uniform. He stood there quietly, patting her head as she continued to cry. “Don’t leave me alone either Richard! Don’t leave me! Don’t go!”

“I will try, Amira. I will try.”

-

When Amira asked Dick to never leave her, she didn’t mean this.

During the evening, Dick would help Amira with her homework or if he was in a patrol, he would talk to her through the comms.

During the short weekend, he would take her out to go shopping, of course, with Alfred accompanying them.

Then came the school week.

That Monday morning, Dick patted her head before the two headed to their respective classrooms, some of the girls in her class asking how she knew him. Turns out that despite the clear age gap (and being in different buildings), some of her classmates were captivated by his charm.

What did Jason call it? Charisma? She forgot.

During lunch, Dick barged into the lunchroom and found her, dragging her to his classroom where he would introduce her to his friends, as in, his entire class.

“This is Marinette! She’s a very close friend of mine! Practically my sister from other parents!” Dick said with a grin, ruffling Amira’s hair as he did so.

The girls in his class cooed, buttering Amira in hopes of gaining her brother’s favor.

“Guys, leave the poor girl alone. She needs her space.” A girl sitting away from the group said, Amira looking to see who it was. She didn’t realize she was staring until the girl beckoned her to come closer. “Hi, name’s Barbara Gordon. What’s yours?”

“Marinette.” Amira said. “Marinette Dupain. I’m part of the middle school wing, grade 7.” 

“Dupain? Like the bakery-”

“Yes!” Amira said, quickly rambling about the bakery, not noticing how Dick smiled as he watched her lighten up.

Maybe he should bring her over more often.

-

The next few days were definitely different for Amira.

Out of school, Amira would be joining Dick at the Cave, learning a few basic gymnast skills. Learning flips and other tricks were exhilarating, Amira absorbing the new skills easily. 

Sometimes, some of Dick’s friends would join in, Amira quickly taking a liking to Wally out of three of them, no offense to Garth and Vic. Perhaps because Wally was the one who made sure to make her feel included that caused Amira to grow a soft spot for him. Whenever he would come over, Amira always made sure to have cookies ready for him.

She enjoyed the smile that would radiate off him, Amira always looking forward towards his next visit.

At school, Amira would go over to Dick’s classroom to talk with Babs during lunch. 

(That was Amira’s name for her, although she didn’t dare to call Barbara by that nickname. They weren’t exactly close friends...yet.) 

She adored talking to Babs about the latest pastry or about Babs’ father’s latest case. (Amira found it hilarious that their dads respected each other both in and out of work.)

It’s been a solid month since she began merging into this new routine, Amira practically skipping as she made her way to see Babs. Just as she was about to make her way inside, she was quickly pulled back, Amira now face to face with a kid...her age? But one thing was for certain, she had seen him before...but where? Surely she would remember a kid that carried a portable camera-

Timothy Jackson Drake. The Drakes only son...only child.

The only reason she remembered him was due to the newspaper she found on the dining table her father left behind that morning. Something about his mother was the headline of the paper.

“You’re Marinette, right?” He asked her, Amira wondering what he wanted with her. This was the first time both children ever spoke to each other.

“I am. Do I-”

“Name’s Tim -Tim Drake- from the elementary wing, grade 5. Anyways, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Where’s Jason?” He asked, Amira feeling her heart drop. “I’ve noticed that-”

Amira knew that the boy kept talking about something, but she didn’t know what exactly. 

Jason’s name just kept echoing within her head, Amira’s head replaying the past month in her mind.

How did she forget about Jason? Why did she forget about Jason? How dare she forget him?!

“-Mimi! Mimi, please, listen to me!” Amira registered a voice, a voice she always heard. “Amira, please, talk to me!” It was big brother.

Amira looked at Dick, his eyes wide with panic, Amira registering the tears that dared to slip from him.

Without another word, Amira hugged him, her grasp on his school jacket tightening as her mind slipped back to Jason.

“I didn’t mean to forget him! I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Amira sobbed, hating that she was breaking down at school, hating that everyone saw her at her most vulnerable point. Hating herself for forgetting Jason. “He probably hates me for forgetting about him. He hates me…”

“It’s alright Amira. It’s alright.” She heard Dick whisper to her, watching as the two left the school grounds. “He would never hate you Amira. He loved you too much to ever gate you.” Dick reassured. 

That was the last time Amira ever saw Gotham Academy.

-

Ever since Amira broke down at school, she remained cooped up in her room, not letting anyone enter it, not even Alfred.

Dick had tried to coax her to come out by telling her that Wally had come over to talk to her, but Amira didn’t budge from her room. 

Not until Bruce asked her to come to his study to talk.

“Did you want to speak to me, Father?” Amira asked, closing the door behind her. 

She knew why she was there. She knew why her father called her to his study. 

After all, it wasn’t that easy to create a cover story of why Dick and Amira came home while school was still in session. It was especially hard when the school called Bruce, asking about the whereabouts of the two of them.

“Amira. Take a seat.” Bruce said as he motioned to the open space in front of him. It’s been a while since she had been at her father's study, noticing the new window seats. They weren’t there the last time she stepped foot into his study. Then again, the last time she did was when…

Now that she thought about it, Amira couldn’t help but look at her father.

Despite the dim lightning of the study, Amira could easily see the worn out features on her father. His eyes were shrouded in darkness, circles deeper than ever, the bags under his eyes darker than before. 

The corners of his eyes were red and tired, her father’s lips now forever in a frown. 

How could she forget? How stupid was she to think that she was the only one suffering when clearly, her father was too? What about Dick then? Was he also-? And Alfred...

Amira shook the thought from her mind, deciding to pile up the cushions into a corner and taking a seat, letting her back lightly touch the pile. It was only then that she noticed her old Batman plushie.

“I thought...I thought this was thrown out.” Amira said, picking up the old thing, the colors faded, Amira running her fingers over the stitched up arm.

“It was, until I asked Alfred if I could keep it.” Bruce said, letting a sigh leave him. “Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the past.” Amira remained silent, letting her head hang. So this is why he called her to his study. 

Amira listened as her father drifted to his memories of when he ventured the world. Of how he met her mother. (That was the first time he actually talked about her to Amira. Sure, he would mention her mother’s small quirks, but Father never told her stories about her.) Of how he met Amira...as an infant. 

How Bruce kept making mistake after mistake, wanting to give up various times as he found himself lost. How he thought he wasn’t enough to help raise Amira, that he wasn’t fit for the job. 

How he found his efforts finally being rewarded in the shape of Amira growing into the girl she was now. For Dick finally being able to flourish despite his parents’ death. How Jason was able to have a better life once Bruce took him in.

“Where did I go wrong?” Bruce asked, looking out the window. “What did I do that caused-“

“You did nothing wrong.” Amira reassured. “You did nothing wrong Dad. If anything, you always did your best to make sure we were fed, clothed...safe. We couldn’t have asked for a better father.”

Amira sat there in silence for what seemed like minutes before Bruce looked at her. 

“But clearly, that wasn’t enough.” Bruce said, getting up from his seat. “I’m sending you to Paris.”

NEXT

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020

[yume-fanfare]

Start line

this is the translation of one of the short stories posted to celebrate LIPxLIP’s birthday, you can read it in japanese here. it has been translated from this spanish translation by mieltrabajos

---

“Suzumi-san, why don't you come over to our school?”

It was in her last days of middle school that a Sakuragaoka teacher invited her, told her he was the advisor of the track and field club. At that moment, she was about to go back home, feeling down because she hadn't accomplished the goal she'd set three years earlier: be one of Japan's top 10 athletes.

During middle school, Mr. Yamazaki had taught her about track and field. He was a college professor, but she caught his eye during a race. However, Hiyori had heard that Sakuragaoka was in Tokyo. She didn't quite process it at the time, confused as she was. Studying in Tokyo had never crossed her mind. She thought she'd go to a highschool nearby, just like everyone else.

Hiyori lives in the countryside. There weren't many schools to choose from, and even if they did have entrance exams, most people got in because there simply weren't enough students. For that reason, local public schools didn't have track and field. In fact, most club activities weren't active. And, even if they were, they weren't competitive enough nor had proper teachers. So Hiyori had thought she'd have to give up on running after middle school, it sounded impossible.

Of course I want to keep running. It was what I focused most on my third year of middle school. I loved running more than anything else, it was all that I had. But, Tokyo is too far away. I was told to “think about it” for now, but I still don't know, it's so complicated.

During lunch break, Hiyori slumped over her desk, groaning. Shirakawa Satoe, her best friend and classmate, stared at Hiyori while eating a sandwich.

“What's the matter, Hiyori? Does your stomach hurt from eating too much?”

“Waaaah, Sato-chan, what should I do?”

She held her head in her hands. The week after finishing the club tournaments, Hiyori couldn't do anything but worry about track and field.

Because of this, I feel like my stomach has become very heavy.

Today's lunchbox had two big rice balls and fried shrimp, but she didn't feel like eating.

“Are you still worried about the Tokyo school?”

“I'm worried precisely because it's Tokyo… It's so far away, like on the other side of the world!”

“It'll be fine. You're Hiyori, you'll be able to keep running if you work hard!”

Hiyori shook her head. 

“No, it's impossible no matter what!” 

“But it's only a couple of hours away by plane, isn't it? And around ten by bus. Maybe it's closer than you think.”

“I don't think I have enough money to fly.”

“True, why is it so hard? If I had money, I'd go to a live in Tokyo or Osaka…”

Hiyori and Satoe sigh.

I wonder if I should give up after all…

She still hadn't talked to her parents about Sakuragaoka yet. Her mom seemed convinced she’d go to a local high school at the last parents-teacher conference.

If I wanted to go to a Tokyo school, Grandma and Grandpa probably wouldn't like it… And Dad will get really mad...

“It's hopeless…” Hiyori said, putting her head on the desk again. “What if I took the exam without permission? If I pass, there would be no going back!”

“... And how would you live in Tokyo?”

Hiyori lifted her head and saw Satoe had crossed her arms.

“That's the problem.”

Paying rent, living expenses and the tuition fees with just a part time job would be really hard. It's not impossible, but Hiyori doesn't think she'd be able to do something like that and track and field. Going to Tokyo would be pointless then.

“But you want to run, right?”

“I do. I've been working as hard as I can and… I haven't given up on being in Japan's top 10.”

“Do you want to be a professional runner in Japan's national team?” Satoe laughed and poked Hiyori's cheek with her chopstick.

“I'm not fit enough for that yet but… I don't want to stop running.”

‘You can run anywhere, you don't have to join a club’. I'm sure that's what my parents would answer. I know. But that depends on each one's determination.

I hadn't thought about going to Tokyo until that teacher appeared with the Sakuragaoka invitation. This wouldn't be happening if that hadn't occurred. That invitation is like Eden’s apple.

“Then, why don’t you take the plunge?”

“You say it like it’s easy!” Hiyori whined.

“Because you want to go, don’t you? It’s written all over your face. You’re easy to read, Hiyori.”

“I don’t think so. Tokyo is… scary. There are lots of people there. I’ll be alone, without any friends… I don’t know the streets or anything, I’ll get lost for sure!”

“But, you’ll be able to make as many friends as you like! You’re Hiyori.”

“But I’ll never be able to make a friend as good as you again, Sato-chan!”

Satoe laughed, shook her head and stood up. Her hair was messy.

“Hearing you say that makes me really happy, Hiyori,” she exclaimed with a booming voice.

“Okay, I've made up my mind! I'll go to the same school as Sato-chan. Never to a different one! It's decided, I'll reject the offer!”

Satoe laughed loudly, full of glee.

But then, her face turned serious.

“But… actually. I want you to go to Tokyo, Hiyori.”

“Eh…?”

“It'd be a waste to stay here in the countryside. I'm sure Tokyo is much more fun.”

“Sato-chan…”

“I want Hiyori to decide herself. Because it's you, Hiyori.”

But what about… us two?

She was confused, but Hiyori mumbled a “yes” as Satoe took out two small packets out of a bag.

“Which one do you choose?” She held up both packets for her and smiled.

They were pockys, a strawberry packet and a lemon one. Hiyori, worried about the hard choice, ends up taking one of each.

“Which is the best one~!” was her answer.

She laughed and bit both of them.

---

When classes finished for the day, she left the school building. The sky was getting more and more cloudy.

High school in Tokyo…

All her life, she'd thought she'd live in her hometown forever. She hadn't even imagined moving away.

But in the end… it's impossible, Sato-chan.

Hiyori looks down at the ground, walking.

Living alone in the city, going to highschool, it all sounded like a surreal future to her. She knew it would be really hard.

No matter how badly she wanted to go.

She heard a cheerful voice coming from the school’s courtyard and stopped walking. The members of the baseball and track and field clubs were practicing on their own. Hiyori and her friends had to retire, since their three years of middle school were over and they were about to graduate. Just a few days ago, though, they also had practice like that. As soon as classes were over, Hiyori remembered, she would change clothes as fast as she could to go to practice.

“It was fun…” The words left her mouth without noticing.

She was completely absorbed looking at the practice, imagining herself with the underclassmen.

Even if she had studied at a local middle school, those three years had been full of fun things. Laughing with her friends, the ones who would go to high school with her if she stayed in the countryside, without the anxiety of having to meet new people.

I know, but my heart yearns for somewhere else.

She was unable to forget her wish to study in Tokyo.

In Sakuragaoka there would be a track and field club and a teacher who would properly guide her. And she’d be able to keep running.

There’s also the want for a nice city environment. There will be a lot of things in Tokyo that I don’t have here. I’ll probably be able to do a lot of things I don’t have here.

Even if Hiyori thought it was impossible, thinking of a new world yet to explore made her excited.

I wonder if I can make it…

For that reason, she had lots of obstacles to overcome. Like convincing her parents.

“Oh, Suzumi-senpai!” A boy noticed her and waved his arms in the air exaggeratedly.

Hiyori walked towards the courtyard where the track and field club members were.

“Suzumi-senpai, are you going home already? Let’s practice together!”

“I’m retired now.” Hiyori laughed, a bit sad.

“Huhhhh,” the boy complained. “Then just watch our practice! Like one of the retired professionals! 

“Hum… I wonder if I can run one last lap...” Hiyori brought a hand to her chin, deep in thought.

It really would be her last race in middle school.

“Great! Okay, then I’ll time you!” a second year student exclaimed, holding a stopwatch. Some other club members offered to measure the distance.

Hiyori stood at the starting line and breathed in deeply while looking at the finish line. There, the boy was holding the stopwatch, while the other students observed the race from the side benches. 

Hiyori hadn’t brought her gym clothes or a T-shirt, so she still wore the school uniform. 

She kneeled on the ground and looked ahead. 

Her heart began to race. 

The whistle blew and Hiyori lunged forward.

Now, I’m still completely happy.

I have all my friends and classmates. My mom’s meals and lunchboxes are delicious. My grandpa secretly gave me an allowance and my grandma is really good at sewing; this year she made a new yukata for me. And my dad takes me fishing sometimes,

I’m sure I’ll have fun every day here.

If she went to the city, she was sure she’d be alone every day. Living alone would be much harder than she could imagine. She wouldn’t have friends or acquaintances. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get along with everyone at a high school in Tokyo. People might laugh at her and she’d be embarrassed.

But…

There surely was a much bigger world she didn’t know about.

After crossing the finish line, Hiyori breathed in deeply and looked up to the sky. The sun shone softly between the clouds.

Maybe I shouldn’t give up before trying…

---

During the holidays, Hiyori met with Satoe in the lakeside park where they used to play. The lake’s surface was dyed in the sunset’s colors, the wind making small ripples in the water.

They sat on a bench and Hiyori spoke up.

“Um, Sato-chan.”

“Yes, yes, I see.” Satoe crossed her arms and nodded, telling her to go on.

“I haven’t said anything yet!” Hiyori exclaimed, confused.

Satoe smiled at her.

“Yes, but I already know what you want to say, it’s written all over your face. You’ve decided to go to Tokyo, right?”

Hiyori felt her eyes begin to water and she quickly rubbed them.

Of course she knew, they were best friends. Or maybe Hiyori was just that easy to read?

“I’m sorry... Sato-chan, I do really want to go to the same high school as you!”

Hiyori felt like she was betraying someone and that made her heart ache. Hiyori wanted to go away, but Satoe grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the bench.

“I see… but, that’s no good! I won’t let you!”

“Satoe…”

“Because, Hiyori, if you go to that school, you’ll have lots of fun and forget about us!”

“I would never do that. You’re my best friend, Sato-chan, no one else. I’ll contact you every day!”

“... Or so you say, but what if you get a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!” Hiyori exclaimed, waving her hands. “Impossible! That won’t happen!”

“You’ll go to the city, you don’t know. Maybe you’ll meet a handsome guy, what will happen if he takes over all your free time?!”

“Eh, uh, aaahhhh, what should I… I don’t know…?”

Hiyori felt trapped, but her voice was calmer than before. She pressed her index fingers together nervous.

“After all we've been through, Hiyori will choose love over our friendship! As if everything so far had been a game!” Satoe covered her face with her hands.

“That's not true! All my feelings are about Sato-chan! I'd never do something like that!” Hiyori said very seriously, with a hand on her chest.

Satoe peeked at her through her fingers. Then, she put her hands down and broke out laughing, she couldn't hold it in anymore. Hiyori started laughing too and so they both laughed together till their stomachs hurt. Hiyori even started tearing up a bit, but wiped the tears quickly.

In that same place, she used to sit with Satoe and talk until the sun set. During elementary school, whenever she felt down because she couldn't place high during the tournaments, she'd sit here and cry with Satoe. She had thought they’d be together the next year, and the following one.

She felt lost. She’d been so worried about making a decision.

Their laughs quieted down and Hiyori felt sad again. Her shoulders dropped.

“Sato-chan…”

“Do your best, Hiyori. Don’t lose yourself.”

“Yes…”

“Hiyori, it’s fine. You’re strong.”

“I don’t think so…”

“You can survive till the end in any dangerous environment.”

“Yes… I won’t lose! No matter what!

“And I won’t lose my position as your best friend to anyone!”

“Yes… I won’t have a different best friend ever!”

“If you ever get a boyfriend, send me the first picture you take! You have to!”

“I’m sure… I don’t think I can!”

Hiyori and Satoe met each other’s eyes before bursting into tears.

“Hiyori…”

“Sato-chan!”

“Well, if that happens, then let’s eat a lot of sweets today! Let’s hang out!”

As she talked, Satoe opened her backpack and turned it outside down. Some packets with sweets fell out of it onto her knees, the same ones they had eaten the other day, lemon and strawberry pockys.

“Wow, Sato-chan, why did you buy so many?!”

“You see… if I collect 10 tickets I might win a signed poster! From these two…” Satoe said with a very serious face, clenching her fist tightly.

Then, she held both of Hiyori’s hands.

“Help me eat them… I have to eat and eat. Like an infinite strawberry-lemon loop! I bought an entire box with my pocket money. I really want the poster!”

“Yes but...  for a signed poster?”

“Hiyori, which one do you want? You can choose as many as you like!”

“The chocolate-banana ones are better…”

“There weren’t tickets on those though…”

They both opened the packets and began eating. The sunset shone over the lake’s edge.

---

Next spring was graduation.

Hiyori went to the courtyard when the ceremony was finished. The place where she had trained for so long.

“Thank you so much…” she whispered.

In that moment, she heard Satoe call out to her. Other track and field club members were running there too, everyone came.

“I’m glad I made it on time!”

“Sato-chan… what are you guys doing here?”

“Hiyori, you’re leaving for Tokyo tomorrow… so this is our farewell!!”

Satoe gave her a white box with a ribbon. Hiyori, confused, untied it and opened the box. A brand new pair of shoes.

“Umm…” Hiyori’s eyes were wide open as she looked at everyone, amazed.

“Because you’re the star of the track and field club!”

“Please, don’t forget about us!”

“Call me some time!”

Surrounded by exclamations and shy laughter, Hiyori felt her eyes water and she pressed the back of her hand against them. Her chest was full of words she couldn’t pronounce.

“Oh, don’t cry!  We’re holding our tears in!”

“Sato-chan, guys… Thank you! I’m glad I was able to run with all of you and join the track and field club.”

“Hiyori…! Someday I’ll go to Tokyo with my pocket money! I’ll go meet Yuujirou and Aizou!” Satoe hugged her tightly as she cried.

“Who are those guys?! You won’t be with me?!”

“Of course, I’ll go meet Hiyori. I’ll pull an all-nighter and we’ll go watch a live!”

“Oh, I see. I’ll be waiting for you! But I don’t know what live are you talking about.”

Wiping their tears and changing them for a smile, everyone hugged Hiyori.

A place she didn’t know. People she didn’t know. But she was sure there would be new encounters. She would be brave and take off running.

Of course, I’ll do my best.

“Guys… I’m off!”

#honeyworks #suzumi hiyori #HERE WE GO #this story............... i love her sm #hworks #mar's translations #hw links

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO Origins “Ramirez.”

This is what my rain wanted to write today, so this is what you guys get to read lol. I am a slave to the whims of what catches my stupid brain’s fleeting interest. This was actually pretty fun o write though, so I hope you like it :)

The sound of steel cutting over ice: it’s sharp like the scraping of a blade on concrete though much more satisfying. It’s a sound he associates with weightlessness. He imagines that if he could fly this is what it would feel like. He holds his arms out to the side cutting backwards across the ice in large sweeping strokes, his feet moving in familiar patterns so effortless he could definitely do them in his sleep. He spins in a tight circle rotating  over the ice on the tips of his toes using the picks at the front of the skates to gain purchase against the cold, frozen material.

“Yo! Angel!”

He skids to a stop sending up a wave of ice crystals against one wall.

On the other side of the rink a youth hockey team is practicing drills.

“Looking good, baby.”

If he had rolled his eyes any harder he might have been able to see his spinal column.

He could see them waving at him through the glass arms around each other like they were about to break out into the throws of passion. 

Wasn’t it so nice that both of his exes had gotten together.

He sighed, guess that’s what he got for only dating within the olympic team. HE stepped off the ice and sat down on the bench pulling off his skates and setting them to the side. The two lovebirds walked closer.

Christina Swanson and Michel Castle both up and coming olympic competitors working together on a partnered ice routine they were sure was going to win them a gold medal at next year’s winter olympics.

Both of them were super hot Christina with the body of an angel and michel with the body of a greek god, but all Ramirez wanted to do was punch Michel in the dick and slap the bitch look off of Christina’s face. He wondered if that was the way everyone felt about their exes.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Christina giggled, “Michel and I were just discussing how good you are in b-”

He held up a hand, “The last thing I want to hear is a score roster for my private performances.” He pulled on his sneakers, “So if you will excuse me, I’m out before this gets petty.”

Michel smirked, “Oh come on Angel, just a bit of friendly banter. You know you would probably skate better if you got that stick out of your ass.”

“Hmm that’s weird because I distinctly remember that being your thing.” He threw his skates over his shoulder and walked past the two of them trying to ignore their side comments. He found it very funny that they were being rude to him when he distinctly remembered it was Michel who had cheated on him with christina the second time and christina who had dumped him the first time.

Not for the first time he wondered if he shouldn't just pick one side and stick with it, at least then he wouldn’t have to run risk of being forced to watch his exes dating each other...or never mind he was sure he could find a way to make that happen. He always seemed to have the worst luck with girls, or guys. He had the worst luck dating in general.

He stepped out into the hallway walking past another group of kids at the rec center and then out into the hallway where the elderly janitor was pinning up notices to the cork board.

“Morning Elliot.”

The old man turned around, “Oh Morning Angel.” The two men shook hands.

“Good yo see you up and about. The youth seem to like to sleep in, but you know what I always say early to wake early to rise.”

“Keeps a man healthy and wealthy and wise, yeah, I know.” He glanced over the man’s shoulder and towards the new gloss holo-posters. The largest one stood out, it was a recruiting poster for the Marine Corps, “Go to space with the marine corps.” He read aloud, “What are they on about.”

Elliot waved a hand, “Didn’t you hear. They’re flying that new fangled interstellar space whachamachallit out in the next few years. Guess they are looking for marines in case they get attacked by-” He wiggled his fingers, “Aliens.”

Ramirez laughed, “Cool.” He glanced up at the sky, “I’ve always thought it would be cool to go to space.” 

Elliot waved a hand, “Don’t you have some ice dancing to do or something, kid.”

His shoulders wilted a bit, “yeah, guess I do.”

He said goodbye to the old janitor and stepped out into the Texas sunlight. It was hot out here after all the ice.

Overhead he could hear the distant roar of jet engines from one of the nearest air force bases. Seemed like they had been working with jets a lot recently. He swore he had seen about a million and a half of those M-90s fly overhead in the past few weeks.

He walked over to his car and slid into the Driver’s seat staring blankly out the windshield.

What was wrong with him?”

He had been like this for weeks.

All mopy and pathetic…. Was it because of his exes, the last breakup, nah he was over them.

He slumped down in his seat and started the car heading home  with a case of some serious moodiness. When he got back he could almost forget about his issues since he was immediately tackled by his younger sister who proceeded to beat the ever loving shit out of him in a wrestling match. But then again she was also on her way to becoming an olympian, so that didn’t surprise him.

This family was pretty talented at sports.

His older sister played soccer professionally, and his youngest brother was star of his middle school football team so something could be said about that.

“Morning Angel, how was practice today?”

“Absolute shit.”

“Hey watch your language.”

“Sorry mom, just hit a slump or something.” 

HIs father looked up from his tablet where he was sitting at the table, “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah yeah, fine. I’m just going to head out today maybe catch up with friends or something.”

“Alright have fun, don’t do anything stupid.”

***

He had gone and tried to do tons of stupid things, but none of those things were what he really needed. Nothing could take his mind off the increasing feeling of dissatisfaction, which he couldn’t explain for the life of him, and that night found him sitting on the roof watching the sky darken as the sun set behind the distant line of hills. The air was hot and dusty, so he only wore shorts and a white cotton shirt  where he lay against the roof’s sloped surface. A breeze rolled past him, a breeze that carried with it the sound of some pretty colorful cursing in his family’s native tongue.

He frowned and glanced over the edge of the roof.

“Abuela!”

His grandmother held up a hand to shut him up as she crawled onto the room still cursing violently and grumbling, “Why do you always have to go and mope in places restricted to old people.” Still speaking spanish.

He helped her onto the the roof to sit next to hi her old wrinkled hand gripping onto  his arm like a steel vice. People said he had a lot in common with his grandmother. He had definitely inherited her dark tan skin dark, almost black, hair and amber eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m up here to see what you’re moping about. Did practice not go well today.”

“No of course it did.”

“Exes? 

“No.”

“Get rejected?”

“No.”

“Than what do you have to complain about?”

He smiled at her bluntness and leaned back watching as the first stars winked into place in the night sky, “I don’t know… I just…. You ever just feel sort of empty?”

“That’s called crippling depression.”

He snorted a smile, “No, not that. I mean like you aren’t doing something you should be doing, or that your life the way it is is meaningless.”

“Your one year away from being an olympian.”

He sighed and sat up resting his arms against his knees, “That’s the problem though isn’t it. I am a year away from being an olympian and it's not…. Well it’s not exciting. Shouldn't I be super nervous, excited or even proud.” He shuffled his feet, “I mean I have been working on this for years, I used to love skating…. But now…. I mean I still like it, don’t get me wrong, but it all seems so…. so …. Petty.”

He turned looking over to find her raising an eyebrow at him. 

He shrugged, “Never-mind.” Just me being dumb I guess.

“No keep going. I’m listening.”

“Well… I'm at the peak of my game, the best I will ever be, and I should be proud of that, but the more and more I think about it the less…. Important it seems. Like I just… It's like I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing off for praise and admiration only to get old and break down and then regret my youth. I have always been good at any physical activity I tried, and instead of using it for something worthwhile or useful, I'm doing this.”

“Isn’t the pursuit of betterment in itself a worthwhile cause?”

He shrugged, “I have no problem with other people doing it if that’s what makes them happy, but I just…. I don’t know if this is what makes me happy anymore.”

“Then quit?”

“After years of training. Wouldn’t that be wasting my life and my talent. Years of preparation just thrown in the trash”

“Better to waste a decade than three. Believe me, I am old enough to know. Besides, you're not even old enough to drink. I can hardly consider the years being wasted ”

Overhead, the stars winked down on him. 

***

He walked into the rink the next day like on any other day skates hung over his shoulder. He sat on the bench with the others listening to their coaches discussing sponsors , discussing how things were going with getting their team ready, about who was going to be doing what, but he could barely pay attention.

He looked around at the others, friends he had had for many years, watched them lean forward in their seats eyes wide with excitement. He could practically hear the eager beating of their hearts as they bounced on the balls of their feet. 

And he felt….. Nothing 

He glanced over at Michel and Christina, the two most vapid people he had ever met (yeah he was apparently great at picking them), and saw the eager hungry expressions on their faces.

Even they were ready, willing and prepared.

They looked excited.

He felt frustration, anger and hopelessness beginning to build up inside him. He stared down at the skates sitting in his lap. He stared out at the ice rink, a 30 by 60m oval of ice where he would be paraded for the rest of his short lived career until his young body degraded and he either walked off or someone younger and more talented pushed him off.

It was hopeless 

He felt meaningless.

He stood abruptly, skates clattering to the floor. He watched them as if in slow motion clatter and bounce. All eyes turned to look at him. His coach looked on in confusion.

“Angel, are you ok?”

The voices echoed in his head, and he turned walking out of the rink ice skates left forgotten on the floor. He heard footsteps behind hi, voices calling his name.

“What is he doing?”

“Why’s he being such a drama queen.”

He walked out into the hall passing by the cork board where-

He paused glancing down at the poster from earlier.

The marines.

A hand reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, “Angel,  you ok.” She shrugged the hand off and walked out into the parking lot. He could feel the eyes of the other skaters pinned to his back staring at him. They loved drama, and this was getting interesting.

He stood in the parking lot staring at the sun and swiveling his head.

Ah, there.

He began walking across the parking lot.

His coach grabbed him by the arm, “Angel, are you ok. Do we need to call someone. A hospital maybe. Perhaps you should sit down and take a breath and let your head clear.”

“My head is clear.” He heard himself say.

He stepped up to a door in the little strip mall and shouldered it open, stepping into the cool air conditioned room. The carpet was drab and grey, and nothing could be heard but the distant sound of a vacuum and some typing. The others piled in after him as he swiveled his head looking for the correct door.

He found it.

He pushed it open startling the man behind the desk whose name tag read Sgt Myers.

He seemed surprised as the odd eclectic group crammed themselves into his office.

Sgt Myers tilted his head, “Can I help you?”

Warm honey light dropped from the window onto his strangely patterned uniform.

“How do I sign up?”

“ANGEL! What are you doing!”

Behind him the others gasped. Sgt. Myers looked very confused.

“Er Well, we have some paperwork and a background check.”

“When is your next bus leaving.”

“Tonight.”

“Can you get me on it?”

His coach grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, “Angel what are you doing! Have you gone insane! Is this some sort of psychotic break. Do I need to call your parents! You can’t just throw away your life by joining the army.”

Ramirez pointed at the wall, “Marines.

Sgt Myers sat with his mouth open.

Ramirez shrugged his coach off, “Can you get me on that bus.”

“Er…. yeah. I guess we probably could. You’d have to do a physical and….”

“Done.”

More protests raised from the back.

“This isn't about the breakup is it?” Michel wondered.

Ramirez snorted, “Not even close, but getting away from you will be a perk.”

“Angel, try to think for a moment.”

Ramirez held out his arm allowing the man to scan the implants under the skin. There was a beep as the information automatically filled out the paperwork on file. The man looked through his background check, and seeing nothing major he shrugged. “I'll send it out to be approved…. But Kid….. maybe you should think about this for a minute. No hasty decisions.”

Behind him the others threw up a ruckus agreement.

He stayed calm, “it’s my life and my regrettable decisions to make.”

He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Angel, why are you doing this. You’re too talented to be wasted in the army. Please just come back, you’ll feel better once you get back on the ice.”

He turned to look at his coach, the other members of his team who looked on in confusion. He felt surprisingly calm and collected, “You’re right.” They looked relieved, “The ice does calm me down, which is why I don’t want to make it a career.”

More uproar.

He raised his voice, “You guys are all so excited, and the fact that I’m not just proves that I shouldn’t be here.” His heart was hammering now as his body began to catch up with his mind.

He felt the beating, pounding of his heart, the rush of blood in his head, the fluttering feeling in his chest.

And he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his nose and eyes prickling with heat.

A shiver of excitement rolled down his spine, and a grin broke out across his face.

There it was.

He hadn’t felt that sensation in a 

Very

Long 

Time 

He held up a hand against their protests, “Look I am going to miss all of you, and I wish you luck. I am super proud of all the work I have seen you guys give to this, but this is where I have to say goodbye.  Have made my decision. I am going to be a marine.” 

***

“You did what!” His mother’s voice was loud over the phone as he slouched back against the tarnished bus seat as the other young men and women filtered on.

“I joined the marines?”

“Angel Antonio Ramirez, tell me you are joking.”

“No mom. I…. I did what I had to do.”

Behind her in the house he could hear the gasps of his younger sister, “But Angel, we were going to go to the Olympics together.”

That part he did feel a bit sad about, “Sorry Izzy, but you were always meant to be the cool one in the family.”

“What is going on?’ His younger brother asked.

“Your brother joined the marines.”

“Cool.”

“Not not cool.” His mother said, “ANgel get your ass home right now.”

He sort of just smiled as -- from the background his father cut in, “Sounds exactly like something Angel would do.”

His mother was about to protest when rockus laughter cut through the background. She went silent in confusion before, “Abuela?”

“Go get em boy! See those aliens!.” She continued to laugh, “Proud of you angel, was hoping you had the balls to go and do it.”

“You knew?

“Course I knew, runs in the family. Your grandpa  ran off to join the army during the pan-asian war didn’t he?”

“Well yeah.”

“Proud of you Angel, now go get em.” She continued to laugh, and that made him smile.. Even if it was just her supporting him, he would be ok.

A sigh, his mother, “Angel, are you sure this is what you want.”

“Yes mom, I’m sure.” 

“Ok…. well call us and let us know ok?”

“Yes.”

“Love you.”

“Love you to.” 

He hung up and leaned back in his seat just as another weight dropped down beside him. He looked over, coming eye to eye with a short-blond woman with blue/hazel eyes, and a short blond buzz.

Damn she was cut.

“Sup.”she said sensing him staring 

“Nothing much.” He Said with a smile. He held out a hand, “Ramirez.”

She took his hand with a strong grip, “Maverick. So what brings you onto this ronchy ass bus.”

He grinned, “Long story.”

“I’m sure we’ve got time.” 

[juwon-ah-moved]

tag 9 ppl to get to know better/catch up with

i was tagged by @wongyuqhei thank u ayesha!! <3

i tag @serannes, @riamali, @phutianpha, @drbunnakit, @gawincaskeyy, @morksuns, @janeramida, @kittychicha and @lesbianspeedy

last song listened to: you. your friend, another guy by sem&stènn. this came on shuffle and oh my god the Memories. this was a duo of two gay guys (who are boyfriends) who make like electronic/synth pop 80s-sounding music?? and they took part in x-factor italia a few years ago and it was so controversial lmao i think there was at least one other gay person on xf before but these two were Very Clearly And Openly Gay and people did not like that. anyway just checked their spotify and they came out with a new album a month ago, maybe i’ll finally listen to more than just the same 2 songs

last movie watched: the queen of my dreams which is a short film directed by fawzia mirza and ryan logan but for feature films then it was signature move 2017 (which was also written by fawzia mirza and i really liked it!)

currently watching: a tale of thousand stars but i haven’t watched the latest ep yet (can’t deal with the angst.......) and i have a few things i started but need to catch up on (like sk8 and jjk)

currently reading: i am in such a reading slump ugh :(( but the books i am in the middle of are the midnight library by matt haig (who knows if i can finish it before the library loan expires) and i’ll be the one by lyla lee (listening to the audiobook)

currently craving: anything really, i’m hungry but since i’ll probably have leftover pasta pasticciata... that. i love it

current project: wish i had any motivation to do anything :/ every time i start something i’m like this sucks i give up. i don’t have a better answer

current mood: bleahshdsjds just. tired. i slept badly. but also i’m hungry and hopefully once i eat i’ll feel better

current wish: that the things i have going on in the coming days/weeks go well i am so anxious god bless .

currently learning: spanish technically but also i’ve been doing the bare minimum the past 2 months, i just don’t have any motivation. i feel like my last answers were so negative but i just. have been struggling. anyway

something that makes you proud: i try to be proud of the progress i’ve made in the last years even if i’m still not at my best. for example the fact that i haven’t been hospitalized in i think... more than 2 years? i don’t really remember but that’s a good sign. also, 1 year on T! very proud of reaching that !!!

#tag games #i didn't mean to be negative i'm sorry aaaaaaa

[ksyescribe]

𝐵𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝐿𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑥 𝑆/𝑂 (𝑖.𝑒. 𝐿𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠) ♡

Featuring: Nishinoya, Tanaka, Bokuto A/N: I started these headcanons a few days back when I was in the middle of a rest/writer slump and just finished them today. They’re hella messy but I really enjoyed writing them and I hope that you guys enjoy reading them :))

Nishinoya

Y’all we’ve known that Noya is a Latin King himself like cmon now? Do y’all see his energy??

Anyways he would 1000% have a latina girlfriend like I just KNOW IT IN MY SOUL

You never have to feel embarrassed about your family with him because he’s just as loud as they are!!!

He literally vibes with EVERYONE in your family

The loud ass fuck drunk uncles? He’s vibing

Ladies in the kitchen making the traditional food? Vibing. He even offers to help!!!

Little kids playing the weirdest games with a bunch of chairs at the back of the party? Vibing. 

Noya would just fit so perfectly in those loud as hell hispanic parties like I can just imagine him being a visual learner and seeing everyone dance like bachata, salsa, and all the other dances 

AND THEN he grabs you and just starts pulling you to the dance floor to dance with him

He’s actually so good??? Like he literally watched for a few minutes and just started moving?? This mans hips? Wow they’re out here swaying from side to side be prepared

Wow I went off on the party but like, Noya would just be so happy to be dating you

He really doesn’t care that you’re a foreigner and what not, he just knows your personality, heart, and whole being are beautiful and that he’s so lucky to have you

I think the whole relationship would be filled with so much happiness and excitement because you’re both learning about each other’s cultures and stuff without even trying

Like you invite him over to meet your family one day and it just happens to be the day your mom is making Pan Dulce and like the most traditional plate of food from your country

And when he sits down to eat he just loves it so much!! Literally will not stop eating, your mom’s about to cry because no one’s ever eaten her food with that much gusto before

Idk bout y’all but my parents love to take pictures from ALL our family trips and we have hats and stuff from all that so pops would probably sit down with noya and show them all of that and noya just loves it!! Like so much his eyes are starry eyes (perhaps what inspires him to travel the world hmmm)

If you have siblings he definitely will play with them when he comes over.

Will probably do that plane thing that adults do where they’re just making the kids fly all around (your siblings love him so much it’s crazy)

Never one for giving too many lessons but if you ask him about something in Japanese culture he’ll probably look a place he can take you to show you more

His favorite times are when you ask about anything food related because it means he can take you on dates to restaurants where he gets to see your reactions

He loves taking you to like the Shonen Jump shops or anything similar because just watching you go through all the parts of the store and seeing all these things catch your attention would make him so soft

Probably grabs your hand and gives you a quick cheek kiss when he’s watching you

Would be 1000% down to go back to your home country

Loves you, your culture, and even tries to learn some Spanish for you

(but his accents so thick you laugh every time he tries to speak, it’s okay you give him a kiss and some sweets from your country as a thank you for trying)

Tanaka

*inhale* THIS MAN BELONGS TO THE HISPANICS I DONT MAKE THE RULES *exhale*

Right so

I don’t even know where to begin with Tanaka because I literally have like 75000 thoughts of him at a bull riding event going through my mind

BUT he’s a soft boy I know for a fact, loud on the outside but very soft.

With Tanaka I do see him wilding out at parties

Like imagine him seeing a pinata for the first time? 

Better have a separate pinata for him because he’ll go crazy swinging on that thing

Is even more surprised that there’s candy inside!!!! Like what?? He thought hitting it was super fun but now this?

Loves it, immediately wants to break open another one

But I also see Tanaka being super soft with your family

Like have you seen the manga panel of him floating around in an apron? 

Your grandma would probably give him one of her aprons and she’ll be teaching him how to make tortillas in such a soft spanish

And he looks so panicked?? Just glancing at you every single second, trying to figure out if he’s doing it right or not. 

Constantly asking you “What is she saying? Am I doin it right? Can you please tell her I’m trying my best?” 

God I’m so soft like I just love him so much

Your grandma loves him always rubbing his head and pinching his cheeks

He always blushes super hard when she does that and turns even more red when you tell him that she likes him and calls him “Mijo” now

She actually tells him stories about the olden days back home and Tanaka listens so intently even though he doesn’t understand but then turns to you as you translate the story

Warms up to the affectionate side of hispanic families really quick, like he kisses you on the cheek when he meets your family like second nature. He even did it to you one morning and then got all red when he remembered that they don’t really be doing that shiz in Japan

I feel like Tanaka would really really like the traditions hispanic families do or how much emphasis they put on holidays and family together

Like he’ll probably come over on the 24th for Noche Buena and just loves the atmosphere of the holiday and the connection with family (and of course the food) 

It’s a really big contrast to the quieter Christmas his family will be celebrating the next day

Will definitely bring a Japanese Christmas Cake from the fanciest store he can afford as his own gift to the potluck

I know we see Tanaka as wild as hell sometimes but I feel like in a hispanic setting he’ll just go soft, or maybe I’m just soft for him who knows

Bokuto

So for all my POC do y’all know when you’re at the store with your immigrant parents and they see a cute boy and they’re like “You see him, I want you to find someone as handsome as him.” (my mom says this to me literally all the time god damn bro pls im trynna live)

This is what every hispanic mother says when they see Bokuto

All the ladies in your family will literally get FLUSTERED when you bring him home

“Ay Mija he’s so handsome why didn’t you tell us”

(This happened to me once never brought a boy home ever again smh)

Anyways he gets the approval from your male relatives when he helps them lug all the heavy shit they work with with no problem

Like he just grabs something that’s 50 pounds and he’s like , “Yeah where do you guys need this?”

He’s so versatile, like I feel like he can vibe with any setting your family’s at

Loud party type? Vibing. Gossiping in the kitchen with your aunts and cousins? Man’s is INVESTED in the chisme! The guys in your family working on home renovations or on any other project? He’s helping them hands down.

Is the type to eat ALL the food that your family offers him. He will literally have a bite of everything even before you tell him what it is. Your mom is beaming when he eats her Arroz Con Leche

Cannot bake for ANYTHING!!! But he somehow cooks meat perfectly?? I’m so?? He literally cannot make any sweets but if you gave him some slabs of meat or a pork shoulder to roast he has that down perfectly.

Your mom actually asks him to come over and help her make the Pernil for special occasions because he’s the only one who can manage to make the skin as crisp as he does. The only one who knows how to do it better is your grandma

Will beg for you to bring him stuff back to your home country. He wants it all: souvenirs, shirts, candy, chips. He even tries to give you money but you brush him off.

Of all three of these boys I feel like he’s the most likely to actually go visit your home country with you!! Like he’s so excited to go out there and see the place where your family comes from

When he gets there EVERYONE will love him.

Somehow makes friends with strangers on the street (something that I’ve done irl when I go back home lmaooo)

He wants to try every single food cart around the area.

Falls in love with the people and food of your country. You’ll probably be on your first trip and he’s already asking you when you can go back. 

If you ever take him to all the nature filled areas or just like a random river that runs through a certain area he’ll be enamored!

Loves the country, loves the culture, loves you :)

#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto imagine #bokuto imagines #bokuto headcanons #bokuto kotaro imagines #bokuto kotaro headcanons #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya imagines #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya yuu imagine #nishinoya yuu imagines #bokuto scenario #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! scenarios #tanaka imagine #tanaka imagines #tanaka headcanons #tanaka ryuunosuke headcanons #tanaka ryuunosuke imagines #tanaka ryuunosuke scenarios #this was a lot of tags #anyways i had fun with this

[brightening-the-stars]

Ms. O’Leary’s Dandelions

This is the first story I’ve posted on here, so I’m a bit nervous. I hope you like it! Any feedback is very much appreciated😊

Here’s how it all started: last March, Ms. O’Leary had decided that dandelions were a beautiful type of ground cover, and she really just could not understand why people disliked them so much. Her sentiments on this topic grew and grew, until on one infamous day, she raised her gardening shovel into the air and cried with righteous fury, “Down with grass! All hail the yellow flower!” She stormed out into her front lawn and methodically pulled up all of the grass, blowing dandelion seeds over the bare dirt.  

Now, lawn renovations were not uncommon in Ms. O’Leary’s neighborhood (it was one of those suburban picket-fence places common on the East Coast) so no-one really commented about the giant piles of dirt in Ms. O’Leary’s yard, and the piles were gone in a few days anyways. The neighbors, however, had known Ms. O’Leary for some time now, and were skeptical that the renovations would be for the better. They watched her front lawn with trepidation, and thanked whatever God seemed to be running the world at the moment for the invention of fences and walls. 

A few weeks later, Ms. O’Leary’s dandelions had risen from the dirt and unfurled their leaves and petals, bathing her yard in their flaming, golden glory. Much like Ms. O’Leary herself, the dandelions’ presence was glorious, ostentatious, and completely inescapable. It was also, predictably, loathed by all of the neighbors. All, that is, but one.

In any great war, there are the two combatants, clashing ideologies and incompatible belief systems driving them to battle as they struggle over small patches of land. There are also war profiteers, the people who arm both sides in exchange for money, but really have no stake in the affair. Finally, there are the civilians-- noncombatants who watch the battles with either horror or mild interest, depending on their proximity to the fight and the lethality of the fighting. 

In Ms. O’Leary’s war, the neighbor’s daughter from across the street, Eliza Mendez, played the part of the civilian. Being a teenager, she had too much on her mind (and too large an ego) to be truly invested in the budding conflict, but she thrived off of drama, which alleviated the boredom of sitting through Spanish every day and was available in spades. 

One early April afternoon, Eliza had been struggling with her precalculus homework, playing with her pencil as she debated calling Amelie (would it seem too needy?) when a loud bang startled her out of her thoughts. Her head snapped up, and she crept towards the family room, where her father was holding a Homeowners’ Association meeting. She peeked around the corner just in time to see her father bang his fist on the table again as he addressed his friends. 

“And who does O’Leary even think she is? This neighborhood has standards, doggone it, and she is failing to meet them. We have principles! We have dignity! And we will not allow dandelions, of all things, to be what drives down the property values in this locale!”

A cheer rose up from the assembled HOA members. A few pounded the table, which was covered with maps, county law printouts, and real estate values. Eliza thought it looked a bit like the pictures in her textbook of generals’ strategy centers during the Civil War. 

A brunette woman stepped forward. “What’s our plan of action?”

Eliza’s father frowned. “Well, I am of course open to suggestions, but I’ve been thinking, and I reckon the best way to go about this is to get her with violation of property laws.” Eliza’s father was a lawyer, and litigation was what he did best. “If we go about this the right way we won’t need to take any, well, drastic measures.”

The crowd quieted. “Drastic measures” entailed a ban from the bi-monthly Neighborhood Barbecue. Ms. O’Leary always brought a divine plate of chocolate chip cookies, and they would be sorely missed if the HOA was forced to disinvite her. 

“We ought to give her a chance to back down before we come at her with legalese,” the brunette said nervously. “I know I would at least want a warning first.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a coward!” 

“Who said that?”

Eliza crept from the doorway as the meeting devolved into shouting. She had no interest in making polite small talk with her parents’ stuffed shirt friends. It was always “Oh, Eliza, do you know where you’re going to apply for college?” or “Eliza, what do you plan to major in?” Never let it be said that being a teenager on the cusp of adulthood is easy. 

The next day, Ms. O’Leary was standing on her front patio, hands on her hips as she admired her dandelions. They all seemed to be thriving, bobbing gently in the spring breeze. She lifted her gaze to squint towards the horizon, and blinked when she noticed a few silhouettes against the rising sun. Her eyes narrowed. It appeared to be Mr. Mendez from across the street. She readied herself for battle.

Mr. Mendez led the march to Ms. O’Leary’s doorstep. He and his four escorts (other officials within the HOA) were dressed in their neatest outfits, wearing their shiniest shoes. He walked up to Ms. O’Leary, and brandished some very official paperwork like a sword.

Ms. O’Leary adjusted her spectacles. “Cease and desist…” she read aloud. She smiled widely. “What a gift. More paper for my paper mache pumpkins.” Her smile disappeared. “You shouldn’t have.”

Mr. Mendez and his compatriots were sprouting truly admirable fake grins. “Whether I should have or not doesn’t matter,” Mr. Mendez beamed through gritted teeth. “The law is the law, and you broke it.”

“The law says that I cannot plant flowers in my own lawn? The law dictates that I must conform to your quaint notions of normalcy?” She paused, waiting for a reply. None came. “I thank you for your directness.” She extended her hand. Mr. Mendez handed her the papers, his shoulders slumping slightly from their tense position. He smiled smugly. Ms. O’Leary stared at him, eyebrows raised. “You may leave now.” After a beat, Mr. Mendez nodded, harrumphed, and turned away. A quick glance at his shoes greatly diminished his aura of smugness; they were covered in dust from Ms. O’Leary’s lawn. Nevertheless, he bravely rallied and marched back home, his fellow representatives offering Ms. O’Leary the requisite good day’s as they turned to follow. 

Ms.  O’Leary stared down at the paper for a few minutes, then lifted her head to the sky. She slowly ripped the cease-and-desist order into four quarters, opening her hand to let a gust of wind blow the quarters away. “If it is a war they want,” she told the fluffy clouds overhead, “It is a war they shall get!” Her voice rang across the neighborhood, echoing longer than it should have. Eliza looked up from her homework and watched her neighbor shake her fist at the sky as her father did a victory dance in the kitchen. She rolled her eyes. Why did this neighborhood have to be so weird?

Several days later, Eliza’s curiosity (and a bit of hunting around in the bushes) had informed her that the quarters of the paper fit together into a dire warning of what would happen if Ms.O’Leary failed to assimilate to the neighborhood norm. A cursory glance at Ms. O’Leary’s lawn informed Eliza that she had done nothing of the sort. Her lawn was even brighter than before. Or, at least, most of it was. Pausing on her way to take out the trash for Tuesday’s collection, Eliza watched Ms. O’Leary inspect a dark patch in the far corner of her lawn.

Ms. O’Leary whipped her head around, spotting Eliza instantly. “You, there!”

Eliza jumped, avoiding eye contact as she prepared to nonchalantly wander back up her steps. Observing the eccentric neighbor didn’t mean she actually wanted to talk to the eccentric neighbor. 

“Eliza Mendez!”

Eliza sighed and stepped forward. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Come over here and tell me what you think this is!”

Eliza hesitated for a moment, worried by Ms. O’Leary’s sharp tone, but her curiosity won out. Standing at the edge of the dark patch, she performed her assessment.

“Uhh… It looks dead,” she diagnosed with some confusion.

“Weedkiller!” Ms. O’Leary shouted. “They used weedkiller, the bastards!” She stared at Eliza with an incensed expression until she realized that Ms. O’Leary probably wanted a reply.

“That’s rough.”

“It is, indeed!” Ms. O’Leary agreed empathetically. “And all because I simply asked the Chair of the County Landscaping Department to allow my lawn to be the way I like! I suppose your father and his cohorts were forced to resort to more underhanded measures. These are truly lawless times we find ourselves in, hmm?”

Eliza nodded, trying to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards. 

“And I had been so looking forward to my dandelion tea,” Ms. O’Leary continued. “It’s good for the psychic powers, you know.” she winked at Eliza, who raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Come to think of it, psychic powers might have been useful when I was trying to persuade the County Chair… But no matter! Now, we must focus our efforts on revenge. This travesty cannot go unpunished!” 

Eliza nodded again, watching as Ms. O’Leary paced back and forth, muttering to herself. She stopped in the middle of her yard, snapping her fingers. 

“I’ve got it! Eliza,” she began, turning to face her, “Would you say these dandelions are aesthetically pleasing?”

“I guess so,” Eliza said. She had never understood why her father hated them so much.

“And it’s the responsibility of good, friendly neighbors to help each other improve their landscaping, as your father so kindly demonstrated when he vandalized my property with weedkiller, of all things.”

“Um, well--.”

“What I’m saying--” an evil grin spread across Ms. O’Leary’s face-- “is that it is my responsibility to kindly allow my glorious, flowery offspring to spread across their lawns. We can, in fact, start with yours.”

Eliza opened her mouth to object, then closed it, imagining the sheer chaos that would result from such an action. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll help.”

That afternoon, she blew a dandelion puff in her front yard, watching the seeds proliferate, spreading across the ground. So ended the first battle in what would prove to be a long and costly war. The Golden Hordes of dandelions spread across the neighborhood like wildfire, with the Brown Death of weedkiller following close behind. The battle raged, neither side able to gain an advantage. Mr. Mendez and Ms. O’Leary’s sneaking around in others’ yards gradually got more and more blatant. Unseemly dark and yellow patches appeared all across the neighborhood, and noncombatants were beginning to get fed up.

At the next HOA meeting, amidst the lawn schematics and bulk weedkiller orders, a dark haired woman scoffed. 

“This is ridiculous,” she told Mr. Mendez. “I propose that we take drastic measures.” A hush spread at her words. 

“All in favor?” Mr. Mendez scanned the room. “It is decided then. We will go to break the news tomorrow.”

The next day saw Mr. Mendez and his entourage once again marching on Ms. O’Leary’s lawn. Their imposing image was marred by the pouring rain and the ginger way that they were forced to pick their way through the mud on Ms. O’Leary’s lawn, but they rallied and Mr. Mendez sharply rapped on Ms. O’Leary’s door. 

“A moment, please!” There were some scuffling noises, then Ms. O’Leary opened the door. She was leaning against the doorframe, holding a book entitled “The Paranormal Uses of Common Flowers and Herbs”. She snapped the book closed and raised her eyebrows at the muddy group on her doorstep. “Come to surrender, have you?”

“No,” Mr. Mendez began, taking a breath to gather his courage. “We’ve come to disinvite you from the Neighborhood Barbecue.”

Ms. O’Leary blinked. “I see,” she said slowly. “And of my cookies?”

“We’ll do without.” (Ms. O’Leary swore she heard a sob from behind Mr. Mendez at that.)

“I petition to come to the Barbecue one last time to deal with unfinished business. I must demonstrate to Susan that my cookies are statistically proven to be superior to her brownies.”

“You can come when everyone’s yard is back to normal. Including yours!” 

“Very well,” Ms. O’Leary said. “When is the next Barbecue?”

“In a week.”

“I will see you then.” Ms. O’Leary smiled slowly. 

Mr. Mendez shifted on his feet. “Um. Right then. We’ll be going now.”

Ms. O’Leary watched them leave. She returned to her book as she closed the door. It was open to a page entitled “wishes”. She muttered to herself, heading out into her yard to pick some dandelions. 

On the day of the barbecue, the lawns were no nicer than they had been before. Eliza loitered around the brownie table, mourning the loss of Ms. O’Leary’s cookies. Maybe she could get some as payment for her involvement with starting this whole thing? She was broken out of her train of thought by a raindrop falling on her from above. The neighbors glanced upward, tittering in alarm. The sky was dark gray, with gusting wind shaking the tops of the trees. 

“Looks like tornado weather,” someone remarked. Susan, who was hosting, ushered everyone into her basement. The neighbors huddled together, listening to the storm pick up outside. The wind howled, and they could hear Susan’s house rattling above them.  

When the rattling stopped, they emerged to a very bizarre sight. The grass was ripped from the lawn and the barbecue setup was strewn about, but Susan’s house was untouched. A quick inspection of the backyard reported much of the same: no grass, but no lasting property damage. Wandering into the corner of the garden, Eliza did a double take. “Hey, dad!” He approached, and she pointed at the patch of dandelions that was completely untouched. (Susan had done her best to rid her yard of the pests, but they really were persistent.) They rushed back into the front yard, watching in bewilderment as many of their neighbors discovered a similar phenomenon. Dandelions are good for wishes, she remembered. As if summoned when Eliza thought of her, Ms. O’Leary rounded the corner and marched toward the gathering, a plate of cookies in one hand, and “The Paranormal Uses of Flowers and Herbs” in the other. 

“Well, that was quite a storm, was it not?” She asked cheerfully. “Although, I had been quite wishing for a bit of a breeze. It gets so hot in summer, hmm?” The neighbors stared. Ms. O’Leary’s gaze alighted upon a surviving patch of dandelions. “Tenacious things, aren’t they? I do suggest that you all plant some. They are beautiful and low maintenance.” She winked at Eliza. “And, legend has it, good for wishes.” She righted the table where Susan’s brownies had once sat, and placed her plate of warm cookies on top. Turning to Mr. Mendez, she asked, “I  trust I will see you at the next Barbecue? I believe I’m hosting.” He nodded slowly, and Ms. O’Leary turned to go. For weeks afterwards, the neighbors would argue in hushed tones about whether she had walked away, or simply vanished into thin air.

The next month saw yards full of dandelions lining the streets of Eliza’s neighborhood. The HOA had succumbed to the pressure of having a “witch” (according to Susan) in the area, and had written “Ms. O’Leary can do as she pleases” into the neighborhood building codes. Eliza sighed at her homework, and looked up through the window. Ms. O’Leary waved to her from her yard, then went back to… was her cat floating? Eliza dropped her pencil and hurried outside. Ms. O’Leary laughed, and turned inside to grab the tray of cookies that she always prepared for Eliza when she came to visit and inquire about her more unusual habits. 

#writeblr #my writing #fiction #short story #witch #cottagecore #i guess?? #spilled words #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #writing #original writing #original content #original work #first post #original fiction #writers

[boopypastaissalty]

We Are Not Broken

The Session

Dr. Flemmings cleared his throat. “Now that all of you are here, let’s begin. The first thing I want you all to do is tell everyone what happened to you. It’s okay that you are here and you all have had similar experiences. This is a LGBTQ+ safe zone, so don’t be afraid. Who wants to start?”

Everyone looked at each other, none wanting to go first. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Logan took a deep breath, “I was kidnapped and tortured because of my gender and sexuality, along with Roman and Remus,” the twins both flinched at the statement, remembering all too well what had happened and what they had all been through together, “I have scars all over my body from the various weapons and beatings. It was hell, we were all malnourished and suffering, and I remember having to watch our kidnappers beat the everloving, pardon my language, f*ck out of Roman and Remus, I don’t remember the times I was beaten all too well, but it was all because some people thought not being cishet was a crime, found the twins and then found me.”

Dr. Flemmings nodded, “Use whatever language you need to, Logan”

“Does Spanish count?” Roman piped up, both twins were multilingual, both parents being native spanish speakers, their father from Spain and their mother from Mexico, in high school Roman took French and Remus took German and begrudgingly, at their parents request, taught each other and had become proficient in both languages. Sometimes the twins talked to each other in a strange mix of English, Spanish, French, and German, something they called Enspanchan.

“Preferably a language we all can understand, Roman”

Roman slumped a little, “Ay, lo siento” he said under his breath.

“Logan, do you have anything else to say?” Dr. Flemmings asked.

Logan shook his head and fidgeted with his hands, he had never been good at processing strong emotions, he usually distracted himself by researching and educating himself on random topics, incorporating them into his Sign Language lectures at the school he worked at.

“Uh well, I guess it’s my turn,” Patton said, interrupting Logan’s train of thought, “I was taking a walk, and some guy noticed the strap to my binder and commented on it. I didn’t think much of it, I ignored him and kept walking, but then he grabbed me and started calling me… horrible things and he dragged me into the nearby woods and…” Patton took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, “He took off all my clothes and destroyed my binder. He told me I’d be beautiful if I didn’t try so hard to be a man. He called me an ‘exotic beauty’ and kept asking me what kind of asian I am. And then he started touching me and…” Patton started full fledged crying, not wanting to say it. He got quieter and almost whispered, “He r*ped me… And now I’m pregnant.”

Everyone was silent for a few long seconds, Virgil finally broke the silence “That’s… horrible. What are you going to do with the baby? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Patton took another deep breath and said “I’m probably going to put them up for adoption. Someone out there probably really wants a baby and can’t have one themselves. I’m not saying everyone should do that, though, I mean everyone’s different.”

Dr. Flemmings took note of how much Patton was crying, “You feel broken, don’t you?”

“I feel broken, violated, I wish time would just stop for at least a little while. I wish I could turn back the clock to last month and tell myself to not go on a walk that day, but I know I can’t. I feel like I’m not trans enough, like maybe I’m not actually a man.”

Virgil looked at Patton, “Bullsh*t. You’re trans enough. You are just as manly as you need to be. You’re f*cking valid.” He clapped for emphasis. This was unusual behavior for him, as he didn’t like to have attention drawn to himself, but he hated it when other trans people didn’t feel valid, mainly because he knew how it felt.

“Well, kiddo, I don’t know about all that, just look at me”

“You. Are. A. Man. And. That’s. What. Matters.”

“Fine, you win”

During this exchange, Janus had been writing out their story and held up their hand in a sort of “Stop dooting your horns, you middle school band class” gesture. Everyone looked at them, they just seemed to have that presence, the type that made people shut up and pay attention without really trying. Janus passed around the notepad, which said: After a concert, a lady came up to me, nothing new there, and was haggling me about being nonbinary and how I’m just a “broken man” and then all of a sudden, I don’t really remember this well, I felt something swipe across my throat and there was a strange warm liquid coming from my neck and then it started to hurt. The next thing I knew, there was yelling and I was on the ground with my friend Ethan, he’s the drummer, Hel, pressing down on my neck. Lola, our bassit, Truth, was calling 911. I think I passed out, and when I woke up in the hospital, I was very confused. I was on so many painkillers that I was basically high out of my mind and the most important thing to me at that moment, for some reason, was chocolate chip cookies. I specifically remember being distraught that no one would bring me cookies because I couldn’t communicate that I wanted some. Anyways, that’s not important. This person probably ended my career, the one thing I actually wanted to do with my life, and I don’t know what to do about it. I might never be able to talk, let alone perform, ever again. Also some dumb*ss took a video of it and put it on YouTube and so the whole world knew before I had even arrived at the hospital.

Once everyone had read what was on the notepad, they all stared at Janus. They looked down at their legs. After a moment, Patton got up and walked over to Janus and touched their shoulder. “What else do you like to do?” he asked.

Janus shrugged.

Virgil suddenly blurted out, remembering the chaos after that concert a few weeks ago, “Wait someone put that on YouTube? How has that not been taken down?”

Janus shrugged, not knowing why either, and pulled out their phone. They found the video and played it, looking away. Patton and Virgil looked away from the video, while Logan and the twins watched, all three feeling bad that they couldn’t seem to pull away from the chaos happening on screen, like some sort of morbid scene in a TV show.

When the video finished, Logan, Roman, and Remus were in stunned silence while Janus fumbled to keep the next video from playing, the “What’s in your pants?” meme, which was when one time Janus and the rest of Duality were on a talk show, all in costume, and the host asked Janus the dreaded question, “What’s in your pants?” and Janus had immediately responded by pulling things out of their pockets and listing them, the items getting more obscure as they went “Phone, wallet, keys, worm-on-a-string, tiny rainbow plastic babies, a dead mouse, Quetzalcoatl? [Quetzalcoatl is Janus’s pet hognose snake], and a barbie head.” the clip had spread like wildfire and had become a large part of what Janus’s stage persona, Deceit, had been known for. Everyone in the band had their own costume, usually involving half of the face being different from the other, Janus’s Deceit costume had a Jack the Ripper vibe and they had makeup to look like scales on the left side of their face. Ethan’s Hel was an all black suit and the left half of his body was made to look like dead, rotting flesh. Lola’s Truth had a black and white lace dress and her makeup was meant to make her look inhuman and had several extra eyes on the right side of her face. The final member, Tori’s Valhalla looked like a norse warrior, the right side of their face looked scarred and they wore an eyepatch over their right eye, like Odin.

“That kind of reminds me of what happened to me,” Virgil said with a shudder once the video was over. “I was hanging out with my friend, May, after your,” Virgil pointed at Janus, “concert and ended up crashing at her place. I tend to sleep pretty heavily, so I was surprised when I woke up on the autopsy table for the mortuary science program at the college I used to go to. I had barely woken up before I felt something that felt like a punch in my abdomen. I saw May, she had a knife and looked angry, she stabbed me four more times, repeatedly calling me a dirty tr*nny. I don’t think she realized I was awake. Thing is, she was the one who supported me the most during my transition and always had my back when I had first come out. That’s what hurt the most. She had apparently secretly hated me all these years and just now was releasing all that. I didn’t dare move until she had left and I started to crawl towards the desk phone at the professor's desk. I was almost there when I passed out. I woke up again to the professor shaking me, he’d always liked me and was concerned about me. He told me he had called 911 and shortly after I was hauled into an ambulance and carted away to the hospital, swimming in and out of consciousness. I think May was planning on killing me and having me be found dead on the autopsy table as a morbid surprise for the mortuary science teacher and his first period class of that day.” He was trying to control his breathing and he felt his heart rate speeding up. Virgil hoped that no one would notice and call him out on it.

Janus started writing and then showed Virgil: Was May at the concert too?

“Yeah why?” Breath, dammit, breath. Virgil chided himself

Janus scrunched their eyebrows and started writing again: What does she look like?

“Do you think-” Virgil cut himself off, took in a deep breath, and found a picture of May on his phone. She had a black bob with straight bangs and wore dark makeup.

Janus looked at the picture, That’s her, they wrote. One thing I didn’t mention before was that she had gotten away.

Suddenly Remus started talking “I’d stim and they’d hurt me.” Roman looked at his brother, remembering how Remus would make weird sounds, start shaking his leg, or drumming his fingers on whatever surface he could get to, and after a while their kidnappers had realized that Remus’s fidgeting and sounds were him stimming, one of his ways to try and calm himself down, started beating him more when he did. “And it started happening more and more because I was more stressed and then I had to force myself to not and I had so much pent up, that everything was a million times louder, even the smallest touches were too much, and my head felt so light and it was like I was feeling everything and nothing all at once, like I was both on fire and numb and I don’t know how to describe it.” Even now, Remus was trying to keep himself from stimming, he had his hands firmly grasped together and his legs were crossed unnaturally tight and he was visibly getting upset.

This was the first time Roman had even heard Remus talk about it. He hadn’t realized how much Remus had suffered and how different it was from how Logan and Roman had suffered. No wonder he was so despondent. He was overloaded in every way. Roman noticed how tight Remus was wound up and pulled something out of his pocket, a long, green silicone fidget toy that had small bumps on it for texture. “Hey,” Roman addressed his brother and handed him the fidget toy, “breath.” Remus took it and fidgeted, reminding himself that it was safe to stim now. “You never said how bad it was for you.” Roman said quietly.

Remus nodded, “I didn’t know how to say it.” He had nothing else to say.

Roman looked around after a long moment of silence. “I felt powerless. I’m almost always able to help, but I couldn't do anything. It was so awful only being able to watch, almost worse than getting beat regularly.” Roman fell silent again, not knowing what else to say.

“You feel like you have to be the hero, don’t you? You feel obligated to do it?” Dr. Flemmings asked. Roman thought for a moment and then nodded. “Since we’re coming to a close, I want to tell you all that you all did a good job today. Here’s what I want you all to do: Patton, read Galileo by Pual Tran, I think you’d benefit from it. Janus, I want you to write, I don’t care what you write, whether it be a song, a poem, a backtrack, whatever, as long as you express yourself with it. Virgil, I want you to use methods to regulate your breathing like the 4, 7, 8 technique and I want you to try carrying around a stress ball, same goes for you, Remus. Logan, I want you to express yourself more and come up with a way for you to get your feelings out in a safe manner. Roman, I want you to think about why you feel obligated to be the hero. And lastly I think you all can benefit from each other, as you have all had similar experiences. Thank you all for attending.”

Everyone started saying their goodbyes and started leaving. Janus met up with an older guy in the lobby who nudged them and said “Happy birthday, kid.” The older guy looked a little sad, like he was remembering something tragic. Everyone heard him wish Janus a happy birthday and started wishing them a happy birthday as well.

Patton looked at the guy and said “Is this your dad, Janus?”

Janus shook their head no and at the same time the guy said “I’m their brother. John, by the way.”

“You guys are siblings? Wow! I never would have guessed!”

Janus looked slightly embarrassed, everyone always confused John for their dad, which wasn’t too far off as John and his wife had raised them. “Yeah the twenty-one year age gap doesn’t help,” John said, lowering his gaze somewhat, just wanting Patton to change the subject.

Janus broke off from John for a moment, wrote something down and handed it to Patton. It said: He’s a little sensitive about family history. Mom died while having me and we don’t know who my dad is, so he had to raise me. That’s why he looks a little sad today.

Patton’s mouth formed a silent “O” as he slipped the paper into his pocket and waved goodbye “Have a nice day!”

John looked at his sibling, “What did that say?”

I said you were having a bad day.

“Oh, okay” he believed the white lie.

Logan was on the phone “I know dad, you’ve told me the story every year for as long as I can remember. I’m about to get in the car, so I’ll call you back”

John looked at Logan and whispered to Janus “What are their pronouns?”

He/him Janus wrote

“He looks and sounds a lot like the doctor who delivered you.”

Janus shrugged and started walking towards their car, a black Jeep, and got in, deciding to go to the cafe that John worked at, knowing that John had to go to work, and besides, they were hungry.

Masterpost

#sanders sides au #we are not broken #the tea is being spilled #hehe

[azure-firecracker]

Here is another fic, this one written for my friend who doesn’t have tumblr (I know you stalk my blog, hi! I love u!) I’m getting an Archive of Our Own (is that what AO3 stands for?) account soon, so this is the last time a fanfic will take up a ton of space.

My friend’s prompt was « Talking about their younger selves with the ship of your choice. » Here it is!

We’re Not So Different After All.

TW: Descriptions of physical and verbal fighting.

Catherine and Anne were fighting again. Jane sighed as she heard their shouts coming from the second floor, echoing loudly above the music and yelling of the bar.

It had been Anne’s idea to to out for a night of dancing, and all of the queens, though some reluctantly, had agreed. It had actually been going better than some of their other nights out. No one was sick or delirious from drinking too much, Jane had managed to get Cathy to strike up a conversation instead of just reading her book, and even the normally self-conscious Kitty seemed to be having fun.

Then, Catherine’s wine went missing. All of the queens tried to get her to brush it off, to tell her that it was probably a stranger who had made a mistake. Angry drunk Catherine was something none of them wanted to face. The problem was that calming Catherine down was infinitely more difficult with Anne smirking and giggling in the corner. Of course Catherine noticed.

Neither of the queens were completely drunk, but both were a bit tipsy, which meant they put no limits on their fighting. No volume control, no awareness of the people around them, nothing.

Eventually, their fight ended up in an upstairs corridor. People popped out of rooms, yelled at them to shut up, and slammed their doors. It didn’t help.

Looking back on it, thought Cathy, she probably should’ve seen this coming. Both queens had been getting along better lately, but they’d both had a hard week. Catherine had had to do extra shows because one of the alternates was out, and during those shows, everything had seemed to go wrong. Anne had had an unusual amount of nightmares that week, even for her. They both needed to air their grievances one last time, and it made sense to do it after a crappy week. Cathy just wished it didn’t have to be so loud.

Upstairs, the first two queens had taken a break from clawing at each other and screaming. Now they were just screaming. Progress, thought Kitty, who had followed them upstairs to make sure no one got hurt. She fully and completely intended to keep an eye on them, no matter what. Or, she had, until she heard Halo by Beyoncé start playing downstairs.

She’d been having such a fun night.

Anna was waving at her.

It was one of her favorite songs.

Just one song.

How much trouble could it be?

« See?! » screamed Anne, still a tiny bit tipsy. « My cousin ran away from you! That’s how much you suck! »

« You sound like a drunk stupid person! » shouted Catherine, also a tiny bit tipsy.

« You are a drunk stupid person! »

« You’re a stupid person, period! »

« You’re more stupid! »

« You took my drink! »

« You took my life! »

« You took my husband! »

« You took my sanity! »

« You took mine first! »

Anne glared at Catherine with wildness in her eyes. Catherine glared back.

They lunged at each other and slammed into a wall. Anne grabbed Catherine and pushed her into the elevator. The second she got to the next floor, Catherine shoved Anne down the stairs. Anne pulled her down with her. Eager to start again, only to be faced with an angry mob of pub guests.

« SHUT UP! » yelled a woman in the front.

« We can’t sleep! » shouted a little boy in the back.

« Get out! »

« Be quiet! »

« We’re filing a noise complaint! »

Before the queens knew it, they were out on the roof, the door was locked, and neither of them could get any cell phone reception.

Ten minutes later, Anne slumped against the door.

« I’m cold. »

« Of course you’re cold, Anne. It’s the middle of winter! »

« You’re supposed to give me your coat when I say that! »

« But we’re not dating. »

« So what? »

« I’m not even wearing a coat. »

« Then give me your clothes. All of them. »

« I am not stripping for you on a roof! »

« How about when we get home? »

« Anne! »

« Okay, okay. I’m bored. Let’s play a game. »

Catherine looked at Anne warily. Anne looked back at her with pleading puppy dog eyes.

« Fine. »

So they sat shoulder to shoulder with their backs to the door, hoping a little bit of warmth would seep through the cracks.

« Never have I ever flirted with someone to manipulate them, » said Catherine a little later. Anne paused.

« Well, do you mean in a big way or in a little way. Like, does it have to be to take over a kingdom or something like that, or do you mean, like, to get free food? »

« Any of it! »

Anne put down a finger with a smirk on her face.

« Never have I ever been fluent in French. »

« That is not allowed! »

« There’s nothing that says that! »

« Me! I’m saying that! »

« Did you invent this game? »

« Fiiiiine, » Anne put another finger down, « but this isn’t fair! You have all 10 fingers left, and I only have 5! »

« Alright, you can have an extra turn, but only because it’ll make you stop whining. »

« Never have I ever been fluent in Spanish. »

« You can’t do that. »

« You literally just did the same thing. »

« Fine. »

« Never have I ever been married to multiple people in my life. »

« So unfair. »

« Put down a finger. »

« Alright! »

« I’m cold. »

« I know. So am I. »

« I think I have hypothermia. »

« That’s impossible. We haven’t been out here long enough. »

« You look very pale. »

« I don’t have hypothermia, Anne. »

« Are you sure? »

« No. »

« Me neither. »

« Let’s keep talking. You can distract me. »

Anne paused. « How distracted do you want to be? »

« Very. »

« Okay, » Anne paused once more, « never have I ever had nightmares about my childhood. »

« Yes you have. »

« Doesn’t matter. »

« Why? »

« Because that’s not the point. The point is that you put down a finger. »

Anothe pause. Then, « how did you know? »

« When I was your lady in waiting, I noticed that you never wanted to talk about your childhood. I was nosy, so when you went off alone to avoid us, I followed you. I would see you go to sleep. Every time we talked about your childhood, you went to bed and woke up screaming. I’ve been wanting to ask you about it ever since we got back, but I haven’t found the right time. »

Catherine started at Anne, shocked. « I never knew you both this much. »

«  I want to know the rest, » said Anne, all fun and games gone from her face. « Tell me about growing up. »

Catherine smirked. « What’s in it for me? »

« You lose your burden. I tell you my story, and you take on some of mine instead. »

« What if I’m not ready? »

« Then I go first. When I was little, I was a wild child. I broke all of the rules, asked all of the wrong questions, and annoyed the shit out of everybody. They decided to send me to court in France. I actually liked it there, because the people understood me. It was the first time that being smart and a girl was okay. But when my family care back, they were horrified. Instead of letting me stay, they decided to throw me at the king. Even then, they refused to speak to me. Because, »Anne gulped, tears starting to fill her eyes, « there was always something so wrong with me that not even those related to me could love me. »

This wasn’t the first time Catherine had heard stories about the Boleyn family. Kitty had said similar things, and it was common knowledge that both the beheaded cousins had had hard childhoods, but Anne had always seemed so confident when she talked about growing up that everybody had assumed she didn’t care. Now, looking at the second queen, Catherine didn’t know if she’d ever seen her this vulnerable. She looked unstable, like what she heard next would determine her worth for all of eternity. Catherine wasn’t sure what to say.

« For what it’s worth, I bet you were a very cute child. »

« I was a nightmare. »

« Why? »

« Parents are supposed to love you unconditionally. Mine didn’t. I must’ve done something wrong. »

« Has it ever occurred to you that the problem might be them? »

« Well, Henry did the same thing, so no. »

« Henry’s a dick. »

« Doesn’t matter. »

« What if I told you that that also happened to me? »

« I’d have to hear more to believe it. »

« Fine, I guess it’s my turn. » Catherine took a deep breath. « Ever since I was born, I was bred to be the next queen of England. I was raised on English customs, not my own. I learned to be quiet, polite, meek, and submissive. The trouble was, I wasn’t. I was too loud, to agressive, too talkative. I spent too much time sneaking off and playing with swords. My parents found out. » Catherine gulped. « They were warriors, both of them. I’ve never seen anything scarier than them when they were angry. I never forgot the sounds of their shouts. When I turned 15, they were all too happy to get rid of me, but I never stopped wondering how I’d been so awful as to get them to shout so loudly. »

Catherine was surprised to see Anne grinning at her

« What? »

« Catherine of Aragon, you were a wild child! »

« I was not! »

« Oh, you absolutely were! »

« I was a bad child, not a wild one. I’m still bad. »

Anne’s smile broke and she stared intently at Catherine, face filled with worry.

« Still too loud, too bossy... »

Anne looked more serious than Catherine had ever seen her, even when she was comforting Kitty.

« Well, Catherine, we were both unruly children. So if you’re bad, than so am I. »

« But you aren’t! »

« Then neither are you. »

There was a pause, then Catherine broke into a small smile. « We’re not so different, are we? »

Anne smiled back at her. « It’s nice to know I’m not the only one. »

« I still think you were a very cute child. »

« How would you know? »

« Well, you’re a very cute adult. »

Anne’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the Spanish queen. « Catherine of Aragon, are you flirting with me? »

Catherine turned bright red. « What? No! I was only... »

Anne could see how uncomfortable she was, so she decided to change the subject.

« Want to finish the game? »

« Yes. »

They played for a little while longer, but Anne could tell something was off with Catherine. She was glad she’d been able to help lighten her burden, but she also had a feeling there was something else Catherine wanted tonight, something she might’ve never had before. Anne knew she hadn’t. So she took a leap of faith.

« Never have I ever kissed someone and really liked it. »

Catherine looked at her in surprise. « Not even Henry? »

« Not even Henry. I was too busy trying to please my family, and by the time I stopped, he was planning my execution. »

« What about other times? »

« Other times? »

« Making out in bars, people you kiss after three dates, like that. »

« It’s empty. I enjoy it, but it also drains me. I end up worse off than when I started. »

There was another pause, what felt like the millionth that night. Then, « so you’ve never had any really good kisses, then? »

« I suppose not. »

Catherine looked up and stared right into Anne’s eyes. The green of her eyes reflected the moonlight and made the first queen feel like she was staring at two jewels.

« I guess we’ll have to fix that, won’t we? »

Anne looked back at Catherine. Her eyes were like melting pools of chocolate, warm and welcoming and safe. Anne had never seen anything to beautiful. Little did she know that Catherine was thinking the exact same thing.

« I guess we will. »

#six musical #six the musical fanfic #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #aralyn #i love my best friend so much

[my-day]

question tag

i was tagged by @memehyungwon ✨✨ ty bro ❣️

rules: answer 10 questions, tag 10 mutuals to answer 10 questions you write

1.what book would you recommend to me and why? 

i always recommend de profundis by oscar wilde or six of crows by leigh bardugo. so now i will go with the illuminae files. that trilogy is just so cool. the format is so interesting to read or the audiobooks? they are like a movie. 

2. what is a hobby you loved doing as a kid that some may think is dumb? 

i didn't have like strange hobbies as a kid. i have always been on the shy introverted side. i liked a lot reading fairy tales that my mom brought to me and my sisters (books bigger than me) so… 

3. if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? 

what's the name of the doctor? im kidding, idk i don't tend to wonder about things like this. i just roll with life you know? 

4. what movie trope do you think you fit the best? 

the mad scientist. maybe the evil mad scientist. bro, you have seen how crazy i got sometimes, all the time.

5. what's a common misconception people have of you? 

that I'm stuck-up. that im a showoff (i don't know if im right in spanish is "ser presumida") maybe it's because i have resting bitch face.

6. who would be on your dream concert line up? (no limit for the amount of artists. you decide) 

just give me a concert with kbands. just imagine everyone there. (not that i want day6,the rose, n.flying, onewe, lucy, hoppipolla, iz and everyone else together in the same place, not at all)

7. would you rather be able to travel back in time or would you rather travel to the future but you'd never remember what you saw?

i would rather the past. just for mere curiosity of how things really happened… and to fight bosie with my own two hands

8. your house is on fire. you have just enough time to run in there and grab one inanimate object. what's the one thing you're going to save from that blazing infierno? (family and pets are safe so don't worry) 

or that awesome oscar wilde compilation i got, I haven't read that bitch.

9. what's the funniest thing you ever heard said about you? 

in middle school, a friend's mom told me that i was too funny to be the best of my class (yes i was a nerd, but also that was so funny to me because she said it straight to my face)

10. what one song that without fail WILL make you cry? why? 

i cry with a lot of songs but on the top of my head, i need somebody and afraid by day6, laura by bat for lashes, and im here by kim kyung hee, she's in the rain by the rose, pacman by eaj, end of love by florence and the machine. 

now the questions for @fangirlingbase @zopsera @pizza-for-mybbys @maggiedea @justjongho

1. get me out of my reading slump, recommend a book you couldn't stop reading

2. what's that random memory that always comes go your head for like no reason?

3. what's your favorite ice cream flavor/combination?

4. what's that piece of clothing you find perfect for you?

5. is there a name you find really pretty? which one is it?

6. what song would you pick to run through a field of flowers?

7. if you could jump over a bed with someone, anyone who would it be?

8. tell me a random fact of knowledge you have

9. what's would your superhero/supervillain name be?

10. what's your aesthetic in 5 words or less

#are my questions weird? #i wrote them as they came out of my head #also you don't have to do it if you don't want to