#like I wouldn’t trade their text to speech voices for the world but I still always wonder | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bordeleaubeau · 4 years

Text

someone like you - trevor zegras

chapter one wc: 6161

you keep your head down as you and your management team walk through the crowd of people that had gathered outside of the airport once word got out you were finally taking a break from the music industry. it wasn’t going to be very long - just the summer, so you had time to recoup and still spend your summer as an actual teenager. and without people watching and documenting your every single move.

“y/n, hurry up!” your manager, hope, yells, yanking roughly on your arm to keep you moving. because god forbid if you stopped for one second, you’d be trampled on the ground.

but it’s hard. you’ve got girls of all ages -- eight to twenty-something -- yelling, trying to get your attention for a quick selfie or an autograph, even if it had to be on their arm. sometimes you felt awful, but sometimes you wished they would understand that you just needed a break. you were exhausted. you were physically and mentally drained.

you had been in the spotlight since you were twelve years old and one of your singing videos had gone viral. since then, you signed with a record label in los angeles, got an agent, headlined for taylor swift, and had your own tour. all before the age of seventeen. you weren’t sure how all of this happened but somehow it did. and while sometimes it got exhausting, like right now and all you want is to be in your own home in the arms of your mother, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

once you and your team get into the airport you’re finally able to let out a breath of relief. the sunglasses that had been covering your eyes, not just protecting them from the sun but also from the flash from the paparazzi cameras, were now sitting on top of your head.

“that’s the biggest crowd we’ve had in a while,” your fashion stylist, sabrina, grumbles as she straightens out her outfit. “it’s ridiculous. we announced the break yesterday, how did they know she was leaving today?”

“they want their last glance at her before she disappears, isn’t that right, kid?” hope nudges you and you give her a soft smile. she gives you a tight lipped smile. she was the first one to realize you were worn out and she was the one that had suggested you taking a break in the first place. “the paps just want to get their last bucks in before they can’t get any of her, that’s all.”

caitlyn glances down at her watch and grimaces, “alright, y/n/n. we’ve gotta get a move on. your jet is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, let’s go.”

you nod your head at your agent, turning to the members of your team that had come for your little send off. “thank you all, and i can’t stress it enough, for absolutely everything. you’ve all been here since i was fourteen and have stuck by me since then and you’ve all made me the girl i am today. but i need this break more than anything. no paparazzi. no screaming fans. no one asking me for autographs. back at home i’m just me. and i want to be just me again.”

you’re choking up by the end of your short speech, and before the tears can fall and can ruin the makeup kylie had spent nearly an hour perfecting you wipe them away.

“oh sweetheart,” hope mumbles and quickly hugs you. “i love you honey, you know that. you’re the daughter i never had. i don’t want you to turn out like the rest of them, and we all know you need this more than anything.”

you nod against her shoulder, too afraid to speak and you to end up crying. so you quickly say your goodbyes to everyone before caitlyn has your arm linked in hers and she’s walking you towards where your plane was waiting for you.

“are you sure you’re gonna be okay, y/n?” caitlyn asks quietly, glancing over at you. “it’s okay to tell me if you’re not, you know.”

you shrug. “i’m not sure yet. i’m absolutely exhausted. i haven’t been able to write a good song in months, or think straight, or have a single second to myself. i just don’t want to come back and everyone has forgotten about me by then.”

caitlyn stops you both in the middle of the terminal, her stepping out in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders forcing you to look at her. “y/n l/n, no one is going to forget you. you’re america’s sweetheart! that one took the entire world by storm from her singing the national anthem at a patriots game. that headlined with her idol. the one that sold out madison square garden. honey, they couldn’t forget you even if they tried.”

you crack a smile. “thanks, cait. now let’s go, okay? i’ve got a puppy to pet. my little sisters and brother. my momma, travis. i’m excited. i’m ready to be a normal teenager.”

“there she is.”

__________________________

stepping off the shuttle bus in nantucket is like a breath of fresh air that’s enough to make you want to cry tears of joy. the ferry ride was calming, sitting and watching the waves rise and fall just like you had on the first day of summer and the last getting ready to go back to greenwich before fame struck. it was nostalgic, sitting on the ferry going back to the place you loved to call your home.

“y/n l/n is that you?” you could recognize that voice from anywhere. you turn on your heels quickly to see the curly blonde haired girl that was one of your best friends on the island.

“andie!” you shout, your eyes going wide. getting a few looks from people walking on the streets. but it wasn’t like they didn’t know who you were - you knew practically everyone on this island and they knew you. but to them? you were still the sweet little twelve year old girl you were when you left.

andie and you both sprint towards each other, and when your bodies collide you wrap your arms around her waist, the two of you rocking back and forth as you feel the love bubble up in your chest. “god, i missed you so much, y/n/n. why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” andie pulls away just enough to look at your face.

“it all happened quickly,” you explain. “hope suggested it to me after an incident. i’ll explain it over coffee at handlebar tomorrow morning, okay? i have to get home, my mom is expecting me any minute now and i can’t keep her waiting anymore, okay?”

andie nods, knowing the relationship you had with your loving mother. “got it. text me, y/n/n. but i’ll see you tomorrow.”

with one last hug you’re headed back into the direction of your summer beach house. you let your feet guide you to the house, a large white house with plenty of decks, windows, and sunlight. the house you spent every summer in up until you were twelve years old. since then, you had always been in california with the exception of your headline tour and your first personal tour.

all of your belongings had been shipped here, and according to the text from your mother you were lucky that they had arrived earlier today. so the second you walked through that door? you were a normal teenager. that’s what everyone on the island thought of you as and that’s what your family always treated you as.

except you never even have to walk up to the front door. your mother is a step ahead of you - she throws the front door open and runs the few feet towards you to close the gap before her arms are thrown around you. “hi mama,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her torso.

“y/n, honey,” she pulls back, her hands cupping your cheeks before she gives you a sad smile. “how are you doing, sweetheart? hope kept me updated - i’m so sorry we weren’t able to make it out there it’s just that-”

“you just couldn’t get out there. i understand, mom. i know you were trying everything you could and it just wasn’t working.” your mother gives you a tight lipped smile, grateful that you had understood.

“alright, hon. come in. mia has been going on and on about seeing you since we told them you were coming home.” your mother leads you back into the house, where travis, your step father, stood holding your three year old half sister, addie with a smile. mia, your other half sister, comes running from the living room.

“hey hon,” travis smiles, and he goes in for a hug, but before he can mia wraps her arms around you.

“y/n!” mia squeals, her feet alternating as she patters them against the floor in excitement. “i missed you. dylan missed you, too. but he won’t say that.”

you look over travis’ shoulder to see your only fully biological sibling, your eleven year old brother, dylan. he’s got a grimace on his face and his arms are crossed over your chest. to say the least, that was the expression you expected from him.

“dyl, are you gonna say hi to your sister?” your mother asks, and in response, dylan shakes his head before turning his back to you and marching up the stairs. your mother sighs, “i tried to get him to warm up to the idea of you coming home, y/n/n, but, i’m sure he’ll come around soon, alright? he’s got no choice.”

you nod, trying to mask your hurt with a smile. “okay, mia, your dad needs to hug me too you know,” you laugh, giving an apologetic smile to travis as mia was still latched to your legs. mia lets out an exaggerated sigh before she releases her hold and you get to walk forward to hug travis, addie still in his arms.

“hey kid,” travis smiles, wrapping his free arm around you. addie grimaces, turning her head away. “you’re holding up, right?”

you nod, “i am. i feel great, i feel fine, i feel perfect. there’s no need to worry about me okay? i’m right here,” you reassure him with a smile. “now, where’s the baked spaghetti i was promised?”

you spend the rest of the night spending it with your family - or your mother, travis, and mia for that matter as dylan seems to avoid you at every cost and addie got put down to bed. but you still wouldn’t trade that time for the world. you had an entire summer to make up for too many lost years with your family.

the next morning you wake up feeling more energized than you had thought - it hadn’t even been twelve hours since you had gotten home and you were already feeling a million times better than you had when you were in california. but it was monday morning, you had slept in until 9am instead of your strict 7am wake up call, and you were feeling amazing.

after a few minutes of scrolling aimlessly through your phone and responding to texts - one being from andie, saying something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make breakfast anymore - your stomach begins to growl and you decide to go and get breakfast. you push yourself out of your bed, taking a moment to enjoy the view from your bedroom window you never got sick of and you for sure missed, before you were heading downstairs.

but you freeze in your tracks at the sight of a brunette boy in your kitchen, the refrigerator door wide open as he searches for something. you don’t know what to do. so you clear your throat, and immediately he’s turning to face you.

“who the hell are you?” you ask, your eyes still wide. “and why are you in my house?”

“your house?” the boy asks, looking puzzled. “oh so you’re - oh, okay. uh, i’m trevor. i babysit your brother and sister during the summer.” the brunette boy sticks his hand out for you to shake. “trevor. trevor zegras.”

you grab his hand. “y/n, y/n l/n.” you respond, letting your hand fall right back to your side. “uh, how long have you been babysitting addie and dylan?”

trevor shrugs, leaning back on the island in the kitchen while taking a sip from his water bottle. “probably like four, five years now? they love me, not to brag or anything.” trevor flashes you a teasing smile and you can’t help but to roll your eyes playfully at him.

“yeah, makes sense. i’ve lived in california for the past five years with my aunt, so.” now it’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “uh, if you have the kids, do you mind if i go upstairs?”

trevor shakes his head, “not at all. your parents wanted you to have it easy when you got home and i’m supposed to help with that. just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

you give him a weird look, already assuming he may have known a bit more information than what you would have liked. “yeah, i will. thanks trevor.”

you offer trevor a sweet smile and he gives you a head nod before you turn around and head back up to your bedroom without getting the glass of water you came down for. with a sigh, your eyes fall on the white acoustic guitar that was sitting on a stand in the corner of your room. you have a mental debate with yourself before you finally huff out a sigh and walk over, grabbing it by the neck and grabbing the leather journal that was on your nightstand. you grab the pen from the cup on your vanity and sit down on the plush bean bag in the corner of your room.

“okay, you can do this,” you mumble to yourself, your fingers fumbling around on the fretboard before you finally strum out an e minor chord. it had been nearly a month and a half since you had even looked at your guitar, and the last thing you expected to do in the first few weeks you were in nantucket was to attempt to song write.

you try to strum out a quick melody, and once you deem it somewhat decent, you flip through the pages of your song book, flipping past all of the songs you started but never finished to a fresh new page. you jot down the few chords and attempt to continue. but just like the past few months, you hit another wall.

“ugh!” you groan dramatically and fall back onto the fuzz of the bean bag chair. you run your hands over your face, letting out a sigh. “what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me!”

you lay like that for a few more moments until you feel your phone ding from your nightstand. you let out another heavy sigh before pushing yourself up and grabbing your phone off your bed.

hope wilson: Hey kiddo just checking in on how things were going at home. Staying hydrated? Well rested? Love you.

y/n: just woke up from a nap, i’ve been up since like 6 this morning. but yes i’ve been drinking tons of water and i’ve already pulled out my book to try and write. nothing. i love you too hope, i miss you already

hope wilson: What did I tell you Y/n M/n L/n? I thought I forbid you from songwriting for at least a month. You’re supposed to be relaxing. I’ll send someone to check up on you if I have to.

y/n: i just wanted to see if i could get anything out! the answer is no. i can’t. also, there’s a boy here, his name is trevor, and apparently he babysits my siblings over the summers and he’s still around so i’m not stressed out trying to watch the kids while my parents are working

hope wilson: Well keep your head up please honey. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. Love you.

y/n: i’ll update you later tonight. love you more

you’re about to lock your phone when instead, the door to your bedroom flies open and in comes barreling your five year old little sister. “y/n/n!” she giggles, her arms out wide as she belly flops onto your bed, a complete giggly mess.

“mia,” you hear trevor grumble and he’s then standing in the doorway of your room, frozen in his tracks unsure if he could come in. “i’m sorry, y/n. she heard when you came downstairs and i tried to make her stay but she came running up.”

“it’s okay, really trevor,” you reassure and flash him a smile, gesturing for him to come into your room. your hands then go underneath mia’s arms to lift her onto your lap. “what are you up to, pretty girl?”

mia giggles, her head pressing into your chest before she looks up at you. “can we play? pwease?” she opens her eyes wide and juts her bottom lip out, and there’s absolutely no way that you can say no to that face.

“mia, y/n needs to rest. she had a long day yesterday and i’m sure she’s exhausted,” trevor looks up at you, waiting for your agreement that never came.

“no trevor, it’s okay. i don’t mind. i want to spend time with her, and addie, and dylan. i’ve maybe seen addie three times. mia probably a dozen. you don’t have to worry about it, really,” you try to reassure trevor, but a part of him still seems to be apprehensive.

“it’s just -” trevor cuts himself off with a sigh. “your parents just want you to not have to worry this summer and i promised them i’d make sure the kids were off your back.”

you smile, standing up from your bed and picking up mia as you did so. “i promise, it’s okay and it’s not bothersome whatsoever, now let's go downstairs, right pretty girl?”

in response mia just giggles, her head resting on your shoulder as she starts to talk some nonsense into your ear that she might just be saying to trevor. trevor follows the two of you out of your room, closing your bedroom door behind you. you walk downstairs, and there at the bottom of the steps addie stands, a puppy dog look on her face.

“trevy!” she cries out to the best of her ability, the pacifier in her mouth making her mumble some of her words. you look over your shoulder at the brunette boy who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“trevy?” you half-smirk to yourself at him. trevor shrugs. “that’s cute.”

“trevy, uppy, uppy,” the toddler continues to chant, her arms raised waiting for trevor to pick her up, her baby blanket clutched in her tiny fist. once trevor reaches the bottom of the steps he scoops her up and sets her on his hip, his arm wrapped around her securing her in her place.

“where’s dylan?” you ask, peering around the corner to the kitchen where the eleven year old was nowhere in sight.

“probably annoyed at me that i left him in the middle of our chel game,” trevor mumbles, starting to b-line his way to the living room like he owns the place, but you stop in your tracks.

your eyebrows furrow as you place mia onto her own feet, “your what?”

“our chel game.” he answers like it’s nothing, and you’re left to follow him into your living room where sure enough the brunette boy is sitting fumbling with the ps4 controller in his hand.

“it’s about time,” dylan shoots trevor a glare, but trevor smiles instead of making a face back at him. “i was ready to start the game and keep scoring on you. we both know you’re not that good anyway.”

trevor looks taken aback at the comment from your little brother, and it looks like it takes him a few seconds to recover from that blow. “well uh, wow. okay dyl. i see how it is,” trevor mumbles as he sits down on the couch placing addie in his lap, wrapping his arms around the toddler and about to grab the controller before dylan stops him once more.

“i want ice cream,” dylan announces, placing his controller on the coffee table. “can we go get ice cream, trevor?”

“um,” trevor mumbles, looking over at you. “i don’t know, dyl. maybe tomorrow?” he suggests.

dylan’s eyebrows furrow in, and he crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at trevor. “why not?” he whines.

in trevor’s lap, addie’s head tilts to the side. “trevy doesn’t like ice cweam!” she exclaims, a small giggle leaving her lips. your mouth drops open.

“what? no way, we’re going now. let’s go,” you announce, causing dylan to cheer. trevor huffs, but nonetheless he still gets up from his seat and he picks addie up. you walk over to the wall hook and grab you floral lanyard that had your wallet attached to it. “what are you waiting for, trevor?”

trevor shakes his head with a smile, and with his free hand he sticks his hand out for mia to grab. she silently follows along with trevor, and dylan is already three feet out the door ahead of you all.

“it’s too gorgeous of a day for you two to be playing video games all day inside. plus i haven’t been here in forever and i’ve been dying to go to jack and charlie’s for forever,” you can’t help but grin. going to jack and charlie’s had to of been one of your favorite memories growing up. you went at least two times a week whenever you were staying at the beach house and you’d always walk there with your mom, travis, and dylan.

“can’t say i don’t disagree with you, y/n/n,” trevor smiles over at you and he grabs the sunglasses that were tucked into the collar of his t-shirt to put them over his eyes. he sets addie down onto the concrete on her own two feet but holds her right hand leaving you to hold your hand out for her to take yours. at first, she’s hesitant, but addie reaches up and grabs your hand with a giggle.

mia and dylan are walking just ahead of the two of you only by a few feet. “so, how old are you, trevor?” you ask, glancing over at him and his gaze is set forward.

“eighteen. what about you?” now it’s his turn to look over at you, and you’re trying to keep your gaze set forward, biting your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

“seventeen.” you answered simply. the two of you then fall into a comfortable silence walking towards the cute beach shack that was jack and charlie’s. mia is skipping happily, dylan is walking in silence, and addie is swinging whenever you and trevor lift your arms.

“trevy,” addie then begins to whine and she drops your hand, frozen in her spot. “uppy, uppy pwease, trevy.”

trevor lets out a sigh before leaning down and picking addie up once more. “she hates walking, i swear. every time we go for a walk, minutes in i end up holding her. but i guess i’m not complaining.”

“i wouldn’t complain if i were you, trevor,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. your eyes land on your little brother. “hey dyl, how’s hockey going? still a goalie, right?”

dylan tosses you a look over his shoulder, one of pure disgust as his nose scrunches up creating creases in his forehead. “no. i’m a forward now, like trevor.”

you see trevor smile softly out of the corner of your eye and it’s taking everything in you not to have a smart-ass remark at your younger brother. “oh yeah?” you ask, voice raising a few octaves. “i didn’t know you played hockey, trevor.”

“well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, y/n,” trevor chuckles. “i’m going to boston college this fall and playing with them.”

“so you’ve got to be really good, right? you committed?” trevor nods.

“he committed when he was sixteen!” dylan pipes up, and it seems like for the first time of the day there’s a smile on his face. “i’m gonna be like trevor. i wanna commit at sixteen, too.”

you laugh, not at dylan, but at the fact he had dreams that big. “buddy, you’re eleven. you only have five years.”

and just like that, the smile on his face is gone again. “yeah well, i’ve gotten really good. you’d know that if you were here. but you’re not.” he shoots at you, and immediately you’re recoiling and trying to pretend that that wasn’t a jab straight to the heart.

trevor notices your immediate change in demeanor. “hey, dylan that wasn’t nice. your sister can’t help it if she’s busy, just like when i’m busy and can’t go to your games.”

“you go to his games?” your voice cracks, but you cover it up quickly with a cough. “i mean, that’s really cool. thank you trevor.”

trevor shrugs, “i try to. for the past two years i’ve spent the year playing up in michigan, but when i come home i try to go to a game or two.”

you nod slightly as the five of you walk right into the ice cream parlor. mia squeals, running right up to the glass that covers the ice cream. “trevy look! they have wocky woad!” she giggles, and addie claps her hands not full understanding, but acting like she did.

“what are you gonna get, bud?” you ask, placing your hand on dylan’s back, but he shrugs it off and walks up to the glass like mia had.

“y/n-” trevor begins, but you quickly cut him off.

“it’s okay, trevor,” you sigh, scanning the chalkboard for the specials of the day and all the different options you could choose from. you inhale a deep breath before looking over at him. “what do you think you’re gonna get?”

“no, i think i’m good. hockey diet, you know? i normally try to stay away from this stuff,” you can’t help but pout at him.

“you’re no fun, you know that? live a little, trev,” you crack a smile, nudging your elbow into his side but careful to not hit addie. “what about you, addie girl? what do you want babes?”

addie makes a disapproving noise. “we usually end up getting her a baby sized chocolate,” trevor explains for the three year old. “and it looks like those two are already ready to order.”

you let out a sigh seeing mia and dylan already telling their order to the cashier working the register. dylan then turns to look over at the two of you.

“i’ll just have two scoops of nutella chocolate, please,” you request followed by a sweet smile. then you turn to trevor. “last chance, trevor. and it’s on me.”

trevor goes to open his mouth, but the blonde haired three year old in his arms speaks for him. “wocky woad!” she recites from earlier, followed by a clap of her hands. “wocky road, wocky woad!”

you smile, your eyes going from addie to trevor’s blushing cheeks before going back to the cashier. “and two scoops of rocky road, and then chocolate in a baby cup.” the cashier nods and he turns around to start grabbing cups and cones.

“well i guess i’m eating ice cream now,” trevor chuckles as he adjusts addie in his arms. she then starts to play with the fabric of his shirt and babbling about something.

“yes you are,” you grin and trevor tries to give you a deceiving look, but it doesn’t seem to work on him. “oh come on, trevor. it’s not that big of a deal, it won’t kill you to eat it once.”

“it might. you never know, y/n.” you playfully roll your eyes at trevor and his ridiculousness. “i’m joking, i’m joking. i’ll just have to work out a bit more this week.”

“like these three aren’t enough exercise for you?” you ask, looking over at trevor. at this point addie has both of her hands on trevor’s cheeks, her mouth dropped open in an ‘o’, a fascinated look on her face like she was mesmerized.

“addie girl, what are you-?” trevor starts to ask as he tries to pull his face away from her hands.

“shh, trevy,” addie scolds, her hands pressing into his cheeks and squishing them together. you start laughing at the look on trevor’s face, and soon he’s laughing along with you and addie continues giggling like always.

you shake your head with a smile at the two of them. addie pulls her hands away from trevor’s face and wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck. the cashier comes back with all five orders of your ice cream. you see trevor dig into his pocket for his wallet, but you beat him in opening yours and handing the cashier your card.

“y/n, you-”

you cut him off, “yes i did, trev. it’s not that big of a deal, i promise. this is the least i can do for you trust me.”

trevor lets out a sigh. mia and dylan grab their cups of ice cream and you pass trevor his and then addie’s. you grab a few napkins and stuff them in the pocket of your shorts since you’re a hundred and ten percent positive that one of the kids will end up with ice cream all over their face.

“what do you guys wanna do now?” you ask, taking a spoonful of your ice cream and bringing it to your lips as the five of you walk out of the ice cream parlor.

mia gasps, “can we go to the beach? we don’t have to go swimming because it’s late but i just wanna go.” she pleads, looking up at you and then looking at trevor.

“i don’t see why not,” you say and besides you trevor agrees. then you all are walking in the direction of jetties beach, addie stumbling besides you and trevor as she walks eating her ice cream.

the walk doesn’t take all that long, and before you know it you’re about to walk onto the boardwalk that leads to the stand. you slip your sandals off and you hold them in your hand, but trevor holds his hand out to take them.

“trevor, you don’t have to. i’m capable of holding my own shoes,” you laugh, slowly handing your sandals to the brown haired boy. “thank you.”

trevor also helps addie take off her small flip flops and he holds them as well along with his own sandals. mia and dylan are already long gone, the two of them bolting down the walkway and towards the water. you, trevor, and of course addie find a suitable spot that you can sit and watch your two siblings and you sit down on the sand. addie climbs right into trevor’s lap and continues to eat her ice cream.

your gaze lands on mia and dylan who are splashing each other with their feet down in the ocean. you can’t help but smile, even if dylan seemed to think you were the worst person in the world, and mia barely remembered who you were.

“y/n,” trevor mumbles, and you turn to look at him, the slight breeze blowing your hair back ever so slightly. “i’m sorry. i hope you’re okay that i’m so close to them.”

you shake your head, “trevor, it’s okay, if anything, i’m glad that they have someone like you in their lives. someone that’ll go to their games, and hang out with them and do all the sibling things i miss out on all the time. i just - thank you.”

“it’s no problem y/n, i promise you that. i love spending time with them, my sisters don’t like being around me like yours do. and addie? god, she’s adorable. i’m her own personal jungle gym it feels like.”

you laugh, catching addie’s attention and she starts giggling because she doesn’t know any better. “yeah, that’s how it seems to be. i wish i could be in her life more, i don’t even think she realizes i’m her sister. even if i’m half, i’m still her sister.”

“how come you don’t come home more often then?” trevor asks, and he leans over with his spoon to grab a spoonful of your ice cream.

“hey!” you laugh, and in response you get a sneaky smile from trevor. you reach over and take a spoonful of his before you respond to him. “my schedule just doesn’t allow it, you know? school, important things i have to do, my aunt doesn’t really want me leaving all that much and i don’t wanna mess up anyone’s lives here.”

“yeah, i think i get what you’re trying to say.” trevor says and the two of you turn to look out for mia and dylan. “do you wanna go down to the water?”

you nod as you finish the last spoonful of your ice cream. trevor holds his hand out and you place it in the palm of his hand and he puts it right next to your shoes that lay in the sand. the three of you stand up, and immediately you notice the chocolate ice cream all over addie’s face.

“oh addie, babe,” you mumble and grab a napkin out from your pocket. you go to rub the ice cream off her lips, but she turns her cheek. you can feel your heart drop in your chest.

addie shakes her head, “no. want twevy.” you frown and look up at trevor who looks down at you pitifully. you hand him the napkin and he crouches down to addie’s height to wipe it off. once all of the ice cream residue is off, he sticks the napkin in his pocket and grabs addie’s hand.

you cross your arms over your chest and the three of you walk down, the sand squishing between your toes as you walk closer and closer to the water.

“y/n/n!” mia giggles. “come here, come here!”

you smile, walking into the water ankle deep to where dylan and mia were. you look over your shoulder, “addie, come here love.”

addie shakes her head and turns to hide her face into trevor’s thigh. you see trevor sigh and he crouches down and tries to talk to her, but she continues to shake her head. “i’m sorry.” he mouths to you and you shrug, turning your attention to mia who’s busy splashing dylan.

mia kicks her foot, splashing water onto you and you giggle. “hey!” you laugh, reciprocating the action and splashing mia as well. the two of you go back and forth until dylan decides to splash you as well, but his kick is more powerful and he nearly drenches you. he starts laughing and starts to run back towards the land where trevor is sitting with addie in between his legs. “come here you little monster!”

you’re faster than dylan and his short legs, so you managed to catch up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, making sure to try and get him wet as well. “this is so mean!” dylan yells, but he’s laughing before you know it and you can’t help but grin like a fool. it’s like he’s starting to come around.

trevor smiles at the semi sweet interaction between you and your brother. “are you ready to go, you guys?”

“what, you don't want a hug too, trevor?” you tease with a mischievous smile. trevor’s eyes go wide and in an instant he’s picking up addie and starting to run away from you. “get back here you giant goof!”

you hear trevor laugh as he continues to run away from you, but eventually he runs far enough that he stops and turns around, heaving out a sigh. “alright, fine, but only because we need to get back to those two.” he gestures with his free hand back to where mia and dylan are sitting in the stand.

you grin and wrap your arms around trevor, staying there for a few seconds before you pull back. sure enough there’s multiple wet spots on his gray t-shirt. “see? wasn’t so bad.”

“yeah, yeah,” trevor mumbles with a smile. “okay. let’s head back to the house, yeah?”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes #spencer knight #anaheim ducks #boston university #boston university hockey

147 notes · View notes

peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

enemy of my enemy is my lover

summary: you planned on just going to a meeting with an adversary, hoping to gain more territory in the process. you left with something much, much better.

pairing: mobster!bucky barnes x mobster!reader

words: 3,226

trigger warnings: smut (oral - f recieving and vaginal sex), mob dynamics

notes/other: this was inspired by ask received by @bucky-plums-barnes a long, long time ago about a mobster!bucky headcanon that describes the plot to this fic. while i could not find the exact ask (trust me, i tried), i credit the anonymous genius & gen heavily for inspiring this. thank you both!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Each step you make is loud, sharp; the sound of heels clicking against the cold, cracked cement of New York City. It’s something, one of the things, that makes you powerful – sends this thick feeling of invulnerability through your veins, as if you’re some deity returning to her alter.

That feeling – one of untouchable power – has always been…sort of…hard for you to conjure. It’s not like you’re not not powerful in this world absent your fantasies. You run the second most powerful mob in the country! You’ve got a large pull in international trade! You’ve got major influence in congress and almost every state senate! You’ve got money, a smoking hot and super amazing boyfriend, and loyal coworkers. What else do you need?

Regardless of all that, roaming the streets at night never fails to send a special kind of shiver crawling across your skin. It’s a particular type of fear, one that makes you pull your steel grey coat closer to you as you roam the street, makes your hand cling tighter to the .45 in your deep, righthand pocket.

As you reach the alley where the deal you’re brokering is supposed to take place, your phone buzzes a few times in a row. You have an urge to check it, to make sure the man you love is okay, but letting your guard down now wouldn’t be wise. You’ve got to keep a keen mental sharpness about you to make sure no one kidnaps you (or worse) or fucks you over at your own deal, but still, the only person who would be texting you at this godforsaken hour is the man you left at home, and in this business you can never be too careful about the ones you care deeply about…

Your thoughts are interrupted (quite rudely, you might add), by the sound of a thick winter coat shuffling – as if someone were to be rolling their sleeves up. The noise of the fabric gets louder as the person – a man, you soon realize – steps closer. A man with sharp cheekbones and a dark beard and beautiful, pillowy lips.

His gaze, even under the dark baseball cap that lacks insignia, seems hauntingly familiar. You can’t place it, and it seems rude to ask if you’ve met before, given the circumstances. Still…something seems…recognizable about this mystery man.

You don’t realize it, though, until the man opens his mouth and asks about the new baby seal in the San Francisco zoo. It’s the right code, that’s not what throws you. Rather, it’s the gravely voice of the man you’ve been dating for years that stops you in your tracks.

“Bucky!?” you call out, completely confused and abandoning the correct coded response. “Why are you out here?”

Bucky, now meeting your eyes, seems just as bewildered as you are. “I, uh…I’m….what, what are you doing here?”

You have no idea how to respond, mind too baffled to form words. “Wh…what…”

You step closer, carefully – as if he was some rabid cat you found behind your apartment building. His beautiful baby blues are wide, eyes narrowed – you gasp when you get close enough to smell the cologne, his cologne, the exact scent you bought him for Christmas the year previous. “Are…are you…you’re…are you the White Wolf?”

Bucky visibly steps back at the mention of the street name – the street name of the guy who runs the mob that (similar to yours) is based in New York and works in black market goods. He tries to hide his shock, just in case what he thinks is happening definitely isn’t happening. In all honesty, Bucky can’t tell which one would be worse. “And, you’re uh. You’re…um…are you….are you She-Devil?”

If you were disoriented before, you have no word to describe how much your brain is short-circuiting at the thought that this man – the man you love, has secretly been running not only a mob, but a rival mob, this entire time.

“Do…wait,” you shake your head to try and collect your exceptionally scattered thoughts. “Are you the guy who wanted to negotiate territory with me?”

Bucky hesitates for a second, body tense and reluctant to say anything. You’re both still, not daring move a muscle and the both of you stare each other down. It feels like an eternity before he does anything, your surprise only growing as a massive, shit-eating grin spreads across his gorgeous, scruffy face.

It’s a look you know well, one you’ve come to both love and despise. It’s the same look he gave you when he told you he wanted to build (not pay someone else to build, build himself) a deck in a house you moved out of two months later, when he almost got a face tattoo, when he sold your house (you know, the one he wanted to build a deck for) to buy one three streets away. That’s the look he get when some grand idea that will probably turn out to be a disaster – the look that says “this may be a disaster, but the only way to see if it is will be to try it.”

In an instant, Bucky closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. As he arms wrap around you, you can feel him rub at the small of your back, just as he always does when he’s trying to keep you calm. “Yeah, babygirl. That’s me. I’m the White Wolf.”

You press your face in the warm embrace of his coat, muffling your speech. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

Bucky shrugs as he answers. “Didn’t want you to feel unsafe, I guess. Didn’t want you to worry about me.” He presses a kid to the top of your head. “Better question, why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh, your small voice becoming even tinier. “I dunno…same reasons as you, I guess. Felt like I’d be dragging you into something you wouldn’t want to deal with.”

Bucky barks a laugh into the night, the sound reverberating off the tall buildings. “Seems reasonable.”

You pull away but refuse to make eye contact as tears well in your eyes and cloud your vision. For a mob leader, you’re very emotional. “Baby, are you sure? Like, are you sure this is okay? I mean, we kept this major part of our lives from each for literal years…like, does that say something about us as a couple? And we’re, like, rivals, we’re supposed to be competing against each other for money and goods and ports and clients and-“

Bucky cuts into your anxious ramblings by pulling you back into a tight bug. “Hey, hey! Baby, listen. This is a good thing! A great one, if you want it to be!”

You wipe at your nose with your hand. “Are you…what do you, are you sure? What do you mean?”

Bucky nods, eyes ablaze with excitement for the future. “Of course, baby, listen. Separate, our mobs are both powerful, right? We can agree on that. But together? With the territory, the influence, us...together, we could rule the fucking world.”

Technically, he isn’t wrong; with your strategy and Bucky’s brutal execution, your combined business could easily become the apex predator of the mob scene within the Western hemisphere. What Bucky had, you lacked, and vice versa. You’d studied his…business…for years (before you knew it was Bucky who ran the Pack, of course) as you climbed the ranks of your own mob. You know they have hands in several international black markets, have relationships with lots of lots of rich people who do lots and lots of bad things and pay lots and lots of money for those bad things.

Oh God, you’d never think being power-hungry and love drunk could feel so good. Your mind fogs over with all the things you could do if you had Bucky and his gang by your side, you could do anything. Simply by territory you’d be outgunning Hydra, let alone the combined wealth and human capital. You’ve never felt this exhilarated before in your life, the freezing night air electrifying your rib cage and-

Bucky and you grin madly. Wordlessly, you clasp hands and walk back to your shared apartment halfway across town. Both of you are silent until you’re safely inside your secured home. As you pull your hair up into a messy ponytail, Bucky began grabbing bowls for dinner.

“You know-” he said as he ladled soup out of the deep red Crock Pot. “Now that we aren’t desperately trying to hide our occupations from each other, we can move into a bigger house?’ Bucky says it like a question, but you know better.

Normally you’d tell him “no, of course we can’t do that, we can’t afford it.” But now that you both know that you’re each hiding hundreds of millions of dollars in offshore accounts, slush funds, and dummy corporations throughout the world…

“Sure,” you shrug. “Why not.”

Bucky grins like a child on Christmas. “If we’re gonna rule, we need the proper palace.”

You forego giving into Bucky’s terrible, awful joke to hang up your studded coat, to take off your business casual navy-blue pants and black button-up in, and change into a pair of workout shorts and some tie-dye hoodie you thrifted about ten years ago. Bucky calls them your “thinking clothes,” attire you wear specifically to center yourself, to clear your mind of everything except the task at hand.

During dinner, you and Bucky begin to plan how you can consolidate assets, personnel, jobs, and everything that comes with heading mobs. It’s a long talk, one that lasts long into the night and ends with hastily-drawn diagrams and maps strewn around your living room.

It takes hours and way too many pots of coffee, but eventually the plan for the merger is laid out in front of you – all the graphs and math and official language handwritten in your neat cursive (along with a few notes scrawled by Bucky) on over twenty sheets of pristine printer paper.

Bucky sighs happily when he sees it all finished. He’s standing, desperate for a bird’s eye view of the entire thing.

You, on the other hand, are much too tired to stand. You settle for, “How does it look, babe?” as you draw two lines for each of your signatures below both of your full names.

When you look up, you see Bucky – eyes twinkling with joy. “It looks…,” he sighs, happily. “Amazing. I love you so much.”

You giggle, drawing lines for a few witnesses (you’ll make a few of your associates sign tomorrow). “I love you, too, babe. Now, you still got that champagne from our visit to France?”

Somewhere between the front room and the wine fridge, Bucky had you pinned against the wall and was cupping your clothed pussy.

“While I think you look great,” Bucky murmurs against the hot skin of your neck. “You’re wearing just a little too much for me.”

In an instant he tears the skimpy shorts from your body, the sound of ripping fabric making you moan;

“Fuck,” you gasp as one digit, then another enters you. “Holy shit that feels good.”

Bucky pulls away enough to look you in the eyes, smiling as he watches your jaw slacken from the pleasure. “Yeah? You like that?”

If you could speak you would, but each word just comes out as a breathy moans. Your first orgasm hits you like a wave, Bucky pulling it from you with crooked fingers and his lips on yours.

When you come down Bucky carries you to the bed, undressing himself as you do the same.

He pulls you to the end of the bed by your ankles, pushing your legs up to your chest. He enters you easily – bottoming out within a few thrusts.

You and Bucky moan into each other’s mouths as he fucks into you.

“Oh God,” he groans, moving to kiss at your neck. “Holy shit!”

He rubs at your clit with the thumb of one hand as he bites bruises in your collarbones, desperate to hear the symphony of sweet sighs and deep moans as you near another peak.

“Come on baby,” Bucky murmurs into your lips. “Come on, cum around my cock for me.”

It doesn’t take much after that – a few more circles around your clit in time with his thrusts and soon you’re scream and nearly tears the sheets from how tight you’re gripping them and your whole body convulses from pleasure.

Bucky finishes himself onto your stomach, head thrown back in pleasure as he does so.

He takes a minute to collect himself, still panting as he grabs a tissue to clean you off.

After water and a snack (two granola bars you had stuffed into your bedside drawer an unknowable amount of months ago), you curl into Bucky’s chest, tracing the litany of tattoos there. “Weren’t we supposed to drink to celebrate?”

Bucky lets out a full belly laugh. “Probably. But the alcohol is all the way downstairs. Plus, I know something else I can drink to celebrate?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Only you? Why don’t I get to get drunk?”

Bucky just smirks, moving you off of him. You’re about to protest but begin to understand once he pushes the covers off the both you to make room for himself between your legs.

“Trust me,” he tells you, leaving kisses on your skin between every few words. “You’ll love this a lot more than any old champagne.”

And, of course, he was right.

The next day, you meet with your closest adversaries. While you two wait in the conference room in the building Bucky took over after it was condemned a couple years back, you can feel your heart ram into your ribcage. It’s less from anxiety and more from anticipation, knowing you might face major backlash from the people you trust the most.

The first to arrive is the woman you trust the most in this world: Natasha. She doesn’t move towards the table, simply stands just inside the doorway while staring you down. She doesn’t recognize Bucky, but doesn’t enjoy being below the eyeline of a man she’s never seen before.

“Natasha,” you say, desperate to remain calm. “This is Bucky. We’ve been together for five years. And he’s the leader of the Pack.”

In a fashion much atypical for Natasha Romanoff, her eyes widen slightly. “Oh…” she says after a long while. “Okay then.”

She promptly sits down with no further questions.

As with many business, heads and second-in-commands of mobs rarely come face to face. They have goons, messengers that do their footwork. Descriptions of the faces belonging those in charge pass around akin to rumors, only whispered quieter.

Which is why, when Steve comes in, he has no idea what to think until Bucky introduces you and Natasha.

By the time Bucky’s finished talking, Steve’s beat red. “Buck, what the fuck is this.”

“Just,” Bucky sighs, worried about his phrasing and angering his best friend on the face of the planet (whether that be Steve, for reasons that feel obvious, or you, for reasons that feel even more obvious). “Sit down. We’ll explain-“

“’We’ll!’” Steve nearly screams.

Bucky is the only one who flinches at the sudden loud noise. You finish his sentence for him. “Yes. Bucky and I will explain.”

Steve doesn’t like it, doesn’t like taking orders from a rival. Still, he sits at the large, oval conference table opposite Natasha.

The last two people to come in are the head of you and Bucky’s legal departments. Wanda gives you a single nod before sitting next to Natasha, a man Bucky addresses as “Tony” sits next to Steve.

You exhale deeply once the metaphorical dust settles, encouraging Bucky to begin the spiel he had prepared last night been orgasms four and five.

“Alright. We have,” he sighs. “We have decided to combine our two…” Bucky struggles to find the right word. He worries for bugs and secret agents and misunderstandings, brain always struggling to remember that this is sacred, secret business. Any crack in any of the numerous protective facades could mean its downfall, along with the loss of billions of dollars and his life.

“Entrepreneurial endeavors,” you finish for him.

You hear Natasha snort, amused by the avoidance of saying gang and mob and illegal distributor of goods. The rest of your cohort are silent, unsure of what to say next.

Each beat of verbal inaction leaves you more fearful than the last, your heart getting louder and louder in your ears.

For what feels like forever, no one says anything.

Though, with the pounding of blood in your ears, they could be screaming obscenities at you and you wouldn’t be able to hear them.

The only thing that seems able to quiet the noise is Bucky’s fingers intertwining with yours.

Only then do you hear Wanda speak, her accent tinging each word. It’s comforting, to hear something so familiar.

“I assume you both have drawn up something that,” she eyes the man across from her with a look dusted with disdain. “Tony and I can look at.”

Bucky slides the thick document, held together in a beat-up binder you found under a bookshelf, across the table. Wanda is the one who stops it and looks into it first.

She says nothing, holding her tongue as she allows Tony to eye the document. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and pushes them to the corner of his nose as thumbs through it, looking bored and tired.

“Yeah, this shit looks good,” Tony says quickly, shoving the dark glasses back over his eyes. “Can we leave now?”

The resounding silence continues until you break it yourself, attempting to detail for Steve and Natasha what it all means. They listen diligently and sign where needed, Natasha being decided on as the most likely to type it up into an official document and send it to the necessary parties.

Once it’s all over, you and Bucky ride down in the big, glass elevator together – excitement electric in the air.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asks. It doesn’t seem to be out of concern, even if tears of happiness are pricking at your eyes.

“God,” you tell him, voice breathy and ecstatic. “I don’t even know how to describe it. I just, I don’t know. I’ve been so terrified I’d have to hide this forever – or that you’d find out, or that someone would figure out who you were. And now…I just,” you wipe at your eyes, and Bucky pulls you into his chest. “I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I know you’re protected. And I don’t have to hide this from you. And I’m so fucking happy about it.”

Bucky kisses the top of your head, tucking you under his chin. “Oh, baby. Darling I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

The two of you stand in silence, holding each other until you have to exit. Neither of you say anything until you’re both in the car, safely on your way back to your shared home.

“We’re in this together right?” you ask, looking at Bucky as he keeps his dark eyes on the road.

Regardless he smiles, moving his right hand from the wheel to rest on your knee. “Always, baby. Always.”

#mobster!bucky barnes #mobster bucky barnes au #winter solider #bucky barnes x reader #mobster bucky barnes x reader #lukis writes things #fun fact this drafts is almost 2 years old #and i kinda hate it but listen its done and its on the internet now

194 notes · View notes

goalcaufield · 4 years

Text

someone like you - spencer knight

chapter one

wc: 6161

“y/n, hurry up!” your manager, hope, yells, yanking roughly on your arm to keep you moving. because god forbid if you stopped for one second, you’d be trampled on the ground.

caitlyn glances down at her watch and grimaces, “alright, y/n/n. we’ve gotta get a move on. your jet is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, let’s go.”

you’re choking up by the end of your short speech, and before the tears can fall and can ruin the makeup kylie had spent nearly an hour perfecting you wipe them away.

“are you sure you’re gonna be okay, y/n?” caitlyn asks quietly, glancing over at you. “it’s okay to tell me if you’re not, you know.”

you crack a smile. “thanks, cait. now let’s go, okay? i’ve got a puppy to pet. my little sisters and brother. my momma, travis. i’m excited. i’m ready to be a normal teenager.”

“there she is.”

__________________________

“y/n l/n is that you?” you could recognize that voice from anywhere. you turn on your heels quickly to see the curly blonde haired girl that was one of your best friends on the island.

andie nods, knowing the relationship you had with your loving mother. “got it. text me, y/n/n. but i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“hey hon,” travis smiles, and he goes in for a hug, but before he can mia wraps her arms around you.

“y/n!” mia squeals, her feet alternating as she patters them against the floor in excitement. “i missed you. dylan missed you, too. but he won’t say that.”

“hey kid,” travis smiles, wrapping his free arm around you. addie grimaces, turning her head away. “you’re holding up, right?”

but you freeze in your tracks at the sight of a blonde boy in your kitchen, the refrigerator door wide open as he searches for something. you don’t know what to do. so you clear your throat, and immediately he’s turning to face you.

“who the hell are you?” you ask, your eyes still wide. “and why are you in my house?”

“your house?” the boy asks, looking puzzled. “oh so you’re - oh, okay. uh, i’m spencer. i babysit your brother and sister during the summer.” the blonde boy sticks his hand out for you to shake. “spencer. spencer knight.”

you grab his hand. “y/n, y/n l/n.” you respond, letting your hand fall right back to your side. “uh, how long have you been babysitting sadie and dylan?”

spencer shrugs, leaning back on the island in the kitchen while taking a sip from his water bottle. “probably like four, five years now? they love me, not to brag or anything.” spencer flashes you a teasing smile and you can’t help but to roll your eyes playfully at him.

spencer shakes his head, “not at all. your parents wanted you to have it easy when you got home and i’m supposed to help with that. just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

you give him a weird look, already assuming he may have known a bit more information than what you would have liked. “yeah, i will. thanks spencer.”

you offer spencer a sweet smile and he gives you a head nod before you turn around and head back up to your bedroom without getting the glass of water you came down for. with a sigh, your eyes fall on the white acoustic guitar that was sitting on a stand in the corner of your room. you have a mental debate with yourself before you finally huff out a sigh and walk over, grabbing it by the neck and grabbing the leather journal that was on your nightstand. you grab the pen from the cup on your vanity and sit down on the plush bean bag in the corner of your room.

you lay like that for a few more moments until you feel your phone ding from your nightstand. you let out another heavy sigh before pushing yourself up and grabbing your phone off your bed.

hope wilson: Hey kiddo just checking in on how things were going at home. Staying hydrated? Well rested? Love you.

hope wilson: What did I tell you Y/n M/n L/n? I thought I forbid you from songwriting for at least a month. You’re supposed to be relaxing. I’ll send someone to check up on you if I have to.

y/n: i just wanted to see if i could get anything out! the answer is no. i can’t. also, there’s a boy here, his name is spencer, and apparently he babysits my siblings over the summers and he’s still around so i’m not stressed out trying to watch the kids while my parents are working

hope wilson: Well keep your head up please honey. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. Love you.

y/n: i’ll update you later tonight. love you more

“mia,” you hear spencer grumble and he’s then standing in the doorway of your room, frozen in his tracks unsure if he could come in. “i’m sorry, y/n. she heard when you came downstairs and i tried to make her stay but she came running up.”

“it’s okay, really spencer,” you reassure and flash him a smile, gesturing for him to come into your room. your hands then go underneath mia’s arms to lift her onto your lap. “what are you up to, pretty girl?”

“mia, y/n needs to rest. she had a long day yesterday and i’m sure she’s exhausted,” spencer looks up at you, waiting for your agreement that never came.

“no spencer, it’s okay. i don’t mind. i want to spend time with her, and addie, and dylan. i’ve maybe seen addie three times. mia probably a dozen. you don’t have to worry about it, really,” you try to reassure spencer, but a part of him still seems to be apprehensive.

“it’s just -” spencer cuts himself off with a sigh. “your parents just want you to not have to worry this summer and i promised them i’d make sure the kids were off your back.”

you smile, standing up from your bed and picking up mia as you did so. “i promise, it’s okay and it’s not bothersome whatsoever, now let's go downstairs, right pretty girl?”

in response mia just giggles, her head resting on your shoulder as she starts to talk some nonsense into your ear that she might just be saying to spencer. spencer follows the two of you out of your room, closing your bedroom door behind you. you walk downstairs, and there at the bottom of the steps addie stands, a puppy dog look on her face.

“spencey!” she cries out to the best of her ability, the pacifier in her mouth making her mumble some of her words. you look over your shoulder at the blonde boy who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“spencey?” you half-smirk to yourself at him. spencer shrugs. “that’s cute.”

“spencey, uppy, uppy,” the toddler continues to chant, her arms raised waiting for spencer to pick her up, her baby blanket clutched in her tiny fist. once spencer reaches the bottom of the steps he scoops her up and sets her on his hip, his arm wrapped around her securing her in her place.

“where’s dylan?” you ask, peering around the corner to the kitchen where the eleven year old was nowhere in sight.

“probably annoyed at me that i left him in the middle of our chel game,” spencer mumbles, starting to b-line his way to the living room like he owns the place, but you stop in your tracks.

your eyebrows furrow as you place mia onto her own feet, “your what?”

“our chel game.” he answers like it’s nothing, and you’re left to follow him into your living room where sure enough the brunette boy is sitting fumbling with the ps4 controller in his hand.

“it’s about time,” dylan shoots spencer a glare, but spencer smiles instead of making a face back at him. “i was ready to start the game and keep scoring on you. we both know you’re not that good anyway.”

spencer looks taken aback at the comment from your little brother, and it looks like it takes him a few seconds to recover from that blow. “well uh, wow. okay dyl. i see how it is,” spencer mumbles as he sits down on the couch placing addie in his lap, wrapping his arms around the toddler and about to grab the controller before dylan stops him once more.

“i want ice cream,” dylan announces, placing his controller on the coffee table. “can we go get ice cream, spencer?”

“um,” spencer mumbles, looking over at you. “i don’t know, dyl. maybe tomorrow?” he suggests.

dylan’s eyebrows furrow in, and he crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at spencer. “why not?” he whines.

in spencer’s lap, addie’s head tilts to the side. “spencey doesn’t like ice cweam!” she exclaims, a small giggle leaving her lips. your mouth drops open.

“what? no way, we’re going now. let’s go,” you announce, causing dylan to cheer. spencer huffs, but nonetheless he still gets up from his seat and he picks addie up. you walk over to the wall hook and grab you floral lanyard that had your wallet attached to it. “what are you waiting for, spencer?”

spencer shakes his head with a smile, and with his free hand he sticks his hand out for mia to grab. she silently follows along with spencer, and dylan is already three feet out the door ahead of you all.

“can’t say i don’t disagree with you, y/n/n,” spencer smiles over at you and he grabs the sunglasses that were tucked into the collar of his t-shirt to put them over his eyes. he sets addie down onto the concrete on her own two feet but holds her right hand leaving you to hold your hand out for her to take yours. at first, she’s hesitant, but addie reaches up and grabs your hand with a giggle.

mia and dylan are walking just ahead of the two of you only by a few feet. “so, how old are you, spencer?” you ask, glancing over at him and his gaze is set forward.

“eighteen. what about you?” now it’s his turn to look over at you, and you’re trying to keep your gaze set forward, biting your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

“spencey,” addie then begins to whine and she drops your hand, frozen in her spot. “uppy, uppy pwease, spencey.”

spencer lets out a sigh before leaning down and picking addie up once more. “she hates walking, i swear. every time we go for a walk, minutes in i end up holding her. but i guess i’m not complaining.”

“i wouldn’t complain if i were you, spencer,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. your eyes land on your little brother. “hey dyl, how’s hockey going? still a winger, right?”

dylan tosses you a look over his shoulder, one of pure disgust as his nose scrunches up creating creases in his forehead. “no. i’m a goalie now, like spencer.”

you see spencer smile softly out of the corner of your eye and it’s taking everything in you not to have a smart-ass remark at your younger brother. “oh yeah?” you ask, voice raising a few octaves. “i didn’t know you played hockey, spencer.”

“well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, y/n,” spencer chuckles. “i’m going to boston college this fall and playing with them.”

“so you’ve got to be really good, right? you committed?” spencer nods.

“he committed when he was fourteen!” dylan pipes up, and it seems like for the first time of the day there’s a smile on his face. “i’m gonna be like spencer. i wanna commit at fourteen, too.”

you laugh, not at dylan, but at the fact he had dreams that big. “buddy, you’re eleven. you only have three years.”

spencer notices your immediate change in demeanor. “hey, dylan that wasn’t nice. your sister can’t help it if she’s busy, just like when i’m busy and can’t go to your games.”

“you go to his games?” your voice cracks, but you cover it up quickly with a cough. “i mean, that’s really cool. thank you spencer.”

spencer shrugs, “i try to. for the past two years i’ve spent the year playing up in michigan, but when i come home i try to go to a game or two.”

you nod slightly as the five of you walk right into the ice cream parlor. mia squeals, running right up to the glass that covers the ice cream. “spencey look! they have wocky woad!” she giggles, and addie claps her hands not full understanding, but acting like she did.

“what are you gonna get, bud?” you ask, placing your hand on dylan’s back, but he shrugs it off and walks up to the glass like mia had.

“y/n-” spencer begins, but you quickly cut him off.

“it’s okay, spencer,” you sigh, scanning the chalkboard for the specials of the day and all the different options you could choose from. you inhale a deep breath before looking over at him. “what do you think you’re gonna get?”

“no, i think i’m good. hockey diet, you know? i normally try to stay away from this stuff,” you can’t help but pout at him.

“you’re no fun, you know that? live a little, spence,” you crack a smile, nudging your elbow into his side but careful to not hit addie. “what about you, addie girl? what do you want babes?”

addie makes a disapproving noise. “we usually end up getting her a baby sized chocolate,” spencer explains for the three year old. “and it looks like those two are already ready to order.”

you let out a sigh seeing mia and dylan already telling their order to the cashier working the register. dylan then turns to look over at the two of you.

“i’ll just have two scoops of nutella chocolate, please,” you request followed by a sweet smile. then you turn to spencer. “last chance, spencer. and it’s on me.”

spencer goes to open his mouth, but the blonde haired three year old in his arms speaks for him. “wocky woad!” she recites from earlier, followed by a clap of her hands. “wocky road, wocky woad!”

you smile, your eyes going from addie to spencer’s blushing cheeks before going back to the cashier. “and two scoops of rocky road, and then chocolate in a baby cup.” the cashier nods and he turns around to start grabbing cups and cones.

“well i guess i’m eating ice cream now,” spencer chuckles as he adjusts addie in his arms. she then starts to play with the fabric of his shirt and babbling about something.

“yes you are,” you grin and spencer tries to give you a deceiving look, but it doesn’t seem to work on him. “oh come on, spencer. it’s not that big of a deal, it won’t kill you to eat it once.”

“it might. you never know, y/n.” you playfully roll your eyes at spencer and his ridiculousness. “i’m joking, i’m joking. i’ll just have to work out a bit more this week.”

“like these three aren’t enough exercise for you?” you ask, looking over at spencer. at this point addie has both of her hands on spencer’s cheeks, her mouth dropped open in an ‘o’, a fascinated look on her face like she was mesmerized.

“addie girl, what are you-?” spencer starts to ask as he tries to pull his face away from her hands.

“shh, spencey,” addie scolds, her hands pressing into his cheeks and squishing them together. you start laughing at the look on spencer’s face, and soon he’s laughing along with you and addie continues giggling like always.

you shake your head with a smile at the two of them. addie pulls her hands away from spencer’s face and wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck. the cashier comes back with all five orders of your ice cream. you see spencer dig into his pocket for his wallet, but you beat him in opening yours and handing the cashier your card.

“y/n, you-”

you cut him off, “yes i did, spence. it’s not that big of a deal, i promise. this is the least i can do for you trust me.”

spencer lets out a sigh. mia and dylan grab their cups of ice cream and you pass spencer his and then addie’s. you grab a few napkins and stuff them in the pocket of your shorts since you’re a hundred and ten percent positive that one of the kids will end up with ice cream all over their face.

“what do you guys wanna do now?” you ask, taking a spoonful of your ice cream and bringing it to your lips as the five of you walk out of the ice cream parlor.

mia gasps, “can we go to the beach? we don’t have to go swimming because it’s late but i just wanna go.” she pleads, looking up at you and then looking at spencer.

“i don’t see why not,” you say and besides you spencer agrees. then you all are walking in the direction of jetties beach, addie stumbling besides you and spencer as she walks eating her ice cream.

“spencer, you don’t have to. i’m capable of holding my own shoes,” you laugh, slowly handing your sandals to the blond haired boy. “thank you.”

spencer also helps addie take off her small flip flops and he holds them as well along with his own sandals. mia and dylan are already long gone, the two of them bolting down the walkway and towards the water. you, spencer, and of course addie find a suitable spot that you can sit and watch your two siblings and you sit down on the sand. addie climbs right into spencer’s lap and continues to eat her ice cream.

“y/n,” spencer mumbles, and you turn to look at him, the slight breeze blowing your hair back ever so slightly. “i’m sorry. i hope you’re okay that i’m so close to them.”

you shake your head, “spencer, it’s okay, if anything, i’m glad that they have someone like you in their lives. someone that’ll go to their games, and hang out with them and do all the sibling things i miss out on all the time. i just - thank you.”

“how come you don’t come home more often then?” spencer asks, and he leans over with his spoon to grab a spoonful of your ice cream.

“hey!” you laugh, and in response you get a sneaky smile from spencer. you reach over and take a spoonful of his before you respond to him. “my schedule just doesn’t allow it, you know? school, important things i have to do, my aunt doesn’t really want me leaving all that much and i don’t wanna mess up anyone’s lives here.”

“yeah, i think i get what you’re trying to say.” spencer says and the two of you turn to look out for mia and dylan. “do you wanna go down to the water?”

you nod as you finish the last spoonful of your ice cream. spencer holds his hand out and you place it in the palm of his hand and he puts it right next to your shoes that lay in the sand. the three of you stand up, and immediately you notice the chocolate ice cream all over addie’s face.

“oh addie, babe,” you mumble and grab a napkin out from your pocket. you go to rub the ice cream off her lips, but she turns her cheek. you can feel your heart drop in your chest.

addie shakes her head, “no. want spencey.” you frown and look up at spencer who looks down at you pitifully. you hand him the napkin and he crouches down to addie’s height to wipe it off. once all of the ice cream residue is off, he sticks the napkin in his pocket and grabs addie’s hand.

you cross your arms over your chest and the three of you walk down, the sand squishing between your toes as you walk closer and closer to the water.

“y/n/n!” mia giggles. “come here, come here!”

you smile, walking into the water ankle deep to where dylan and mia were. you look over your shoulder, “addie, come here love.”

addie shakes her head and turns to hide her face into spencer’s thigh. you see spencer sigh and he crouches down and tries to talk to her, but she continues to shake her head. “i’m sorry.” he mouths to you and you shrug, turning your attention to mia who’s busy splashing dylan.

mia kicks her foot, splashing water onto you and you giggle. “hey!” you laugh, reciprocating the action and splashing mia as well. the two of you go back and forth until dylan decides to splash you as well, but his kick is more powerful and he nearly drenches you. he starts laughing and starts to run back towards the land where spencer is sitting with addie in between his legs. “come here you little monster!”

spencer smiles at the semi sweet interaction between you and your brother. “are you ready to go, you guys?”

“what, you don't want a hug too, spencer?” you tease with a mischievous smile. spencer’s eyes go wide and in an instant he’s picking up addie and starting to run away from you. “get back here you giant goof!”

you hear spencer laugh as he continues to run away from you, but eventually he runs far enough that he stops and turns around, heaving out a sigh. “alright, fine, but only because we need to get back to those two.” he gestures with his free hand back to where mia and dylan are sitting in the stand.

you grin and wrap your arms around spencer, staying there for a few seconds before you pull back. sure enough there’s multiple wet spots on his gray t-shirt. “see? wasn’t so bad.”

“yeah, yeah,” spencer mumbles with a smile. “okay. let’s head back to the house, yeah?”

#someone like you - spencer knight #spencer knight #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #usa hockey #usntdp

130 notes · View notes

supercorpandbeyond · 4 years

Text

Lena and the Black Mercy (a one shot)

PLEASE NOTE

Lena is a werewolf in this world. At a young age she was experimented on by Lionel. Recently Shes been told Kara was going to most likely not make it after a Kryptonite explosion. Hurt and in grief, Lena runs to Lexes old lab and pulls the black mercy on herself.

If kara doesn’t live she doesn’t want to live without her. This is after she wakes up. I need help deciding whether or not Kara should pull her out or they should die together.

———————

Lena opened her eyes before frowning. She was expecting to see her birth mother. She was quite excited about it.

But instead? She was facing the Luthor mansion.

“Lena! There you were! Mom was worried about how you ran off like that!” At the voice Lena flinched whirling to see Lex, as a 12 year old running towards her. It was then Lena glanced down at herself to see… she was a kid. Huh. She had not expected that at all.

“Mom was worried?” Lena asked uncertainly as the Lex with scruffy hair grinned at her.

“Of course Lena! I know this might be hard for you, given your new; but I promise you’ll love it here. Okay, Ace?” He questioned.

Tears nearly welled up at the old, old nickname and Lena gave a nod as her brother held out his hand.

“I’ll be here for you every step of the way.” He said grinning.

Lena took her big brothers hand. It’s not what she expected, but she would take it.

—

“Calm down darling, you only have some sauce on your face.” Lena gave a shy smile as Lillian had reached towards her during dinner. But instead of hard fists, the mother gently wiped her daughters face with a gentle napkin.

“There we go, honey.” Lillian looked with such adoration at Lena, Lena felt so… loved.

“I’m sorry Miss. Luthor.” Lena murmured bashfully and Lillian only shook her head.

“For the last time, you can call me mom.”

And she did.

—

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Lena grunted roughly as she had just practically been shoved over.

“Oh! Hi! I’m- im so sorry! I didn’t! I didn’t see you there!”

It was the second day of middle school but Lena would recognize that voice anywhere. Kara. As Lena looked up with anxious eyes, she found the face of her mate staring back at her. I finally found you. Lena thought to herself.

“Uh, are you okay? You’re crying.” The blonde pointed out to which Lena quickly wiped her tears away with a small laugh.

“No, no, it’s okay. Just from surprise that’s all.”

“I’ll walk you to the nurses. What’s your name?” The blonde asked holding out a hand as Lena took it with a smile.

“Lena Luthor. And yours?”

“Kara Danvers.”

I’m gonna marry you someday, Kara Zor-El.

——

“I’m sorry we kept this secret from you for so long Lena, but I was afraid. What I wanted to talk to you about was that… you, Lena Luthor, are a werewolf.”

Lionels words came out with concern and careful choosing, and Lena couldn’t help but feel her heart break.

This was supposed to be the happiest timeline.

“Are- are you gonna experiment on me?” She whimpered out sadly.

A sudden booming hearty laugh caused her to glance up out of surprise before Lionel shook his head and gently roughed up his daughters hair.

“Of course not, sweetie. Why would we ever do that? Werewolves are special, and so are you. I’m having an old friend come over to help you on this journey… since I can’t. I love you Lena.”

And it was.

——

“C'mon Ace! Gonna be late to the fireworks show!” Lex’s excited voice called out and Lena rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics. He was 22 and still acted like a child.

“Hold on, I’m calling Kara to tell her to meet us there!” She yelled back in response.

“-So you’ll be there?”

“Of course I will! See you in ten!” Kara’s response came and Lena chuckled. Her alien teenage girlfriend could get her in five if she wanted but of course liked to appear normal.

Lena walked out, texting her when suddenly she was hit with a spray of water and gasped.

She looked up to see Lex, with a devious grin on his face.

“Haha! I totally got you!” Lena suddenly smirked dropping her phone and lunged, shifting midair to tackle her brother and licked him with slobbery kisses to which he protested.

“Lena dear, please don’t shift out in the open, love.” Came Lillian’s soft voice although she was amused at the sight before her.

Lena jumped off her brother who was no longer as excited as earlier.

She raced in the house and quickly shifted and changed before walking back out, this time to see Kara, conversing with her father. At the sight, Lena perked you immediately running and to tackle hug her girlfriend. Who of course heard her in advance and whipped her head around to race towards lena as they met in the middle, Kara picking Lena up and spinning her around.

“I missed you.” Lena whispered as she was set down. Kara grinned and leaned in so their foreheads were touching.

“I missed you too.” Kara murmured back.

“Get a room, love birds!” Lex called out behind them but Lena merely leaned in further, catching her girlfriend for a kiss.

A sudden blast of water caught them off guard as they pulled apart, gasping to look up and see Lex as the culprint. This time before Lena could do anything Kara had used her super speed to grab the soaker and soak him right back and yelped.

“Nice one Kara.” Lionel spoke up as he watched what he knew would be his daughter in law soon. Kara only chuckled.

“Thank you Mr. Luthor.”

“Please, call me Lionel.”

The rest of the night was fun and shenanigans, but most importantly. It was family.

——

“I’m nervous.” Lena said pacing… well, nervously. They were in college now, just graduated actually.

“Kid. You’ll be fine. Okay? Just don’t worry about it. Kara looks at you like you hung the stars.” Alex said waving the Luthor off.

“More like you’re her sun.” Sam commented from besides Alex who chuckled.

“Nice one, honey,” and Sam grinned before capturing the older Danvers lips in a brief kiss.

“Don’t worry Aunt Lena. It will work out.” Ruby suddenly pipped up from the couch with some sort of grin like she knew something.

“Thanks Ruby.”

Before Lena could say anything else, there was a knock on the door and Lena opened it to see Kara. Lena let out a quiet gasp at how gorgeous she looked. She had really dressed up.

“You ready, m’lady?” Kara said in a goofy voice and Lena fondly rolled her eyes at her girlfriend of several years.

“Ready when you are, babe.” Lena retorted with a grin but took her arm that was held out for her.

They ended up going to some fancy restaurant, then Kara flew them to an amazing hillside where there was a treehouse and a picnic down below set up.

As they were eating, suddenly Kara spoke up.

“Lena Kieran Luthor. When I met you I nearly plowed you over because I was so excited there was mozzarella sticks in the cafeteria. I wouldn’t trade being late for lunch that day for anything.”

Lena chuckled fondly at the memory and grinned.

“Even if it cost you your mozzarella sticks?” She teased poking the Kryptonian in the side. Kara chuckled lightly and shook her head.

“Especially if it costed me my mozzarella sticks.” Kara said before continuing on.

As she got further in her speech, Lena suddenly had an epiphany, but by the time she had she found Kara looking at her with bright eyes, getting down on one knee.

“Lena Keiran Luthor, will you make me the luckiest woman infinity and beyond and marry me?!” Lena couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped between her sobs.

Of course she would make a Disney reference while proposing. Instead of answering Lena smiled pulling out a container of her own causing Kara to look on confusion but then Lena got on one knee herself,

“Only if you, my silly Kryptonian, Kara Zor-El, will marry me.” Inside the container wasn’t a ring. But a bracelet.

And the Luthor kept her promise to herself all those years ago and married her.

——

Lena frowned as she looked around for her mate at the Luthor house.

Finally deciding to check her childhood room she opened the door to find Kara, seemingly slightly dazed

“Kara! Love! There you are? What took you so long silly?” Lena said leaning against the doorframe with amusement at her wife.

“I said earlier you don’t have to be afraid of my parents anymore, we’re already married love.” Lena giggled holding up her hand to show off the ring.

#supergirl #lena luthor #supercorp #karlena #kara danvers #one shot #supergirl fic #fic #supercorp fic #mine

44 notes · View notes

trashinaglass-archive · 4 years

Text

Snowy Vacation

Request: Hi, I’ve been binge-reading your writing over the past few days and I’m in love!! If requests are open, would you mind writing a Harry Holland x reader where he proposes somewhere on vacation with both of their families and then fast forward to the wedding? Thank you so much and I hope you’re staying safe x

A/n: Thank you for bingeing my work. I’m so happy you like it❤️ I’m not gonna lie, when I first read this I was ready to give a hard no just because it’s kinda similar to a Tom fic I already did, but it’s such a sweet concept. I can’t turn it down. Hope you like it.

I tried to throw some roasts in there bc I feel like that’s all they do but I’m pretty bad at it pls give me sympathy laughs

Gif from google bc tumblr ain’t got near enough

Trying to plan a vacation with the Holland brothers was a task on its own; trying to plan a vacation with their family and your family together was a nightmare. You all had to find a date where everyone could get off work, take off school, and make sure everyone had plane tickets to arrive around the same time. By a miracle, you felt, everything had been planned successfully, and you found yourself in the snowy mountains of Finland.

You spent the night before introducing everyone and chatting before you were out like a light. You almost forgot where you were the next morning, but it was the most beautiful view to wake up to. The morning light was just peaking out over the horizon as you sat up in bed, taking in the new scenery.

“You think that’s nice,” Harry’s voice interrupted the silence, scaring you a little. “Wait till you see it at night.”

You turn to look at him as he leaned his against the doorframe, wet curls flopping in front of his face. “My hair drier is in the cabinet,” you inform him with a smile as you stand up, making your way toward him. “Don’t want to get hypothermia on the first day out.” You kiss him once before turning to leave him to himself.

The smell of bacon wafted through the air as you made your way up the steps, dishes clinking as the few morning birds ate their breakfast. “Morning, y/n,” rang out as you approached their line of vision.

“I made some breakfast if you’d like some,” Sam informed you.

“You’re the best, Samuel,” you said as you made a plate for yourself and a second for Harry, knowing he’d be up in a few moments. You place the two plates down as you sit and begin to eat yours.

“Awe, is this for me?” Tom asked as he appeared from his room, motioning to the plate beside you.

You shrug, “it was for your brother, but you can have it, it’s all the same.” He let out a quiet yes and sat down, shoving the food in his face. Tom and your brother were talking about snowboarding when Harry made his way to the kitchen.

“Morning, bro. Your girlfriend made you a plate, but she gave it to me because she likes me more,” Tom announced causing you and Harry to both laugh.

“You’re pathetic,” you reply.

Harry shook his head, making his own plate. “No, it’s fine. I got a good morning kiss, and you woke up by yourself. You can have a plate if that makes you feel special.”

The other boys laughed while Tom shook his head, blushing a little. “She still likes me more,” he shrugged.

Harry sat down next to Sam, eating his breakfast as your brother continued the conversation from earlier. “So we snowboarding today?” All the boys agreed with excitement in their voices. “You going too?” He asked you.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’m kind of worried about busting my face open. You guys know I’m not the most graceful.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Harry assured you. “Mum mentioned going into town to shop or something so you could go with her.”

You nod, “yeah that’ll probably be better.”

“Dammit,” your brother muttered. “I was looking forward to seeing you wipeout.” You roll your eyes, throwing your used napkin at his face. The boys laughed as he cringed, swatting the paper away from him with a fork.

. . .

“I think I’m gonna do it tonight” Harry announces once the boys were in the car, driving to the snowboard rental.

Your brother grimaced, “ugh, please tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are because I do not need to hear that.”

Harry chuckled, “no, uh, proposing.” He had talked to his brothers about it, Tom going with him to pick out the ring, but he hadn’t mentioned it to your brother. He didn’t mean to be disrespectful and leave him out of the loop, but he also didn’t think to talk to him about it beforehand.

“Oh shit,” he replied with a laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to.”

“So you think she’ll be happy about it?”

“Absolutely. That girl- she cares about you a lot. She’ll be over the moon.” Harry smiled as he took in the sentence your brother said. It comforted him to know he was going into this knowing you felt the same way.

“You got the ring?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, digging into his pocket to pull out the small leather box. Opening it to reveal the diamond inside.

“You brought it with you?!” Tom exclaimed in confusion.

“Well I couldn’t leave it there for her to possibly find, now could I?”

“Let me see,” Sam interrupted, leaning closer to the front seat. Harry turned around in his seat, showing off the ring he chose- an oval diamond sitting upon a thin silver band. “That’s gorgeous.”

“She’s gonna love that.”

“I hope so.” Harry laughed, recalling all the times you’d shown him different pictures of manicures you loved. “She wasn’t too subtle getting the message across,” he joked.

“At least she tried, dude. My girl didn’t leave me any kind of hints before I proposed to her. Total shot in the dark,” your brother shared.

“I reckon it went well then?” Tom asked, amused by the story.

He nodded, “five years and counting.”

. . .

“So how was your flight down?” Nikki asked as you walked down the streets of Finland. After stopping in a few shops, you had decided to walk around and take in the beautiful sights, admiring the cute lights hanging in the midst of the snowy town.

“It was good,” you told her. “A little long for my liking, but compared to some people, I can’t complain.”

She nodded, understanding completely. “Yeah, those boys. I’m not sure how they do it.” There was a cute little coffee shop ahead that you decided to stop at to warm back up.

“And speaking of boys,” your mom chimed in, looking at you. “What’s going on with yours?”

“What do you mean?” You asked with a confused expression.

Your mom shrugged, taking a sip of coffee before answering. “Just- how is everything? And can we expect a ring anytime soon?” She nudged you with her shoulder.

“Mom!” You exclaimed in a hushed tone, slightly embarrassed that she’s asking in front of Harry’s mother, but Nikki laughed along with her.

“What?! I’m just curious,” she defended. “You two have been dating nearly as long as your brother’s been married.”

“We’ve talked about it, but I’m not sure it’ll happen soon.”

“How fun would it be if he did it here? With everyone around?” Your mom suggested.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I feel like he’d prefer to do it in a more private setting.”

“Think about how beautiful those pictures would be though,” Nikki chimed in. “The mountains, the northern lights!”

“If they show up,” you remind her. The northern lights were gorgeous and something you’d always dreamed to see in person, but they weren’t promised. They change and appear when they want to. There was little guarantee with Mother Nature.

Both moms pointed a finger at you, signaling you were correct. Nikki pulled her phone out, reading a text from her husband.

“Dom says they’re headed back to the house now. Why don’t we make our way back to?”

. . .

Everyone decided to end the day with dinner at a nice restaurant recommended by one of the rangers the boys bumped into earlier. After it was done, everyone piled back into the home while you and Harry decided to talk a short walk around the area. You were surrounded by trees as you approach the edge of the lake, water lapping as you gasped.

“Harry, the lights!” You exclaimed before turning back to him but finding him on a knee with his hand in his pocket.

He chuckled nervously as he began to speak. Your hands moved to cover your mouth as you realized what he was doing, tears ready to fall.

“I spent all day trying to come up with the perfect speech, but now I’m drawing blanks,” he laughed. He pulled the box out of his pocket, holding it tightly in both hands. “I love you, and I want forever with you. So, will you marry me?”

He opened the box to show you the gorgeous ring inside, but your eyes were so flooded with tears you could hardly make it out.

“Yes.”

You buried your face into his neck as he hugged you tight, the cheers from both families coming from behind you. After a moment, Harry pulled away, taking the ring out of the box to slide on your finger.

. . .

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time- Mr and Mrs Harry Holland.”

Screams of excitement erupt as you and Harry make your way inside the venue. It was such a surreal moment to experience, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. The two of you stood in the middle of the dance floor as you go straight to your first dance, the soft music blaring over the speakers as you look to your new husband. Foreheads presses together as you focus on yourselves until you were forced to talk to your friends and family.

Once the first dance was finished, you made your way to the table were you were instructed to sit.

“Hey, everyone!” Tom spoke as all the brothers made their way to the front of the stage. “We wanted to do something nice for the newly weds today so we decided to make a short video to relive some memories and just share the reason why we’re all here today.”

“So this our wedding present to you from your brothers. We love you guys,” Sam nodded before stepped down with the other boys.

“Awe,” you said as the lights dimmed and images popped up on the wall. The first picture being the first picture you two ever took together, transitioning to the picture in Finland when you got engaged- the green streams of light making the picture stand out.

Nikki tapped your shoulder as she noticed it, whispering, “told you it would be gorgeous.” You laughed. Pictures and short videos continued to flip through as you tried your hardest not to cry.

‘Y/n!’ Paddy yelled as he appeared on the screen. ‘I’m so excited that you are officially joining our family. You really are the best sister I could ever ask for, and please let me stay over when mum and dad get annoying!’ He finished, throwing a thumbs up as everyone laughed.

‘Congrats you guys! You both deserve the world, and I’m so happy for you. Take care of my twin for me!’ Sam smiled to the camera.

‘Welcome to family, y/n! You’re such a great partner for Harry, and you’ve always been so kind to all of us. I really can’t see our lives without you so thanks for marrying this div. Love you both,’ Tom waved as the screen went back to the different photos and films before fading to black. Harry & y/n Holland appearing on the screen in beautiful cursive with your wedding date below it.

Everyone clapped as the lights came back on. The brothers making their way to your table- you and Harry standing to hug them, thanking them for the sweet film.

“Group hug!” Paddy yelled and the boys all engulfed you in a big hug between the four of them. You laughed but thought about how much you loved the three crazy boys surrounding you. You were so lucky to find your way to Harry.

#this is entitled snowy vacation bc i probably googled snowy vacation 100 times to try and pick a destination for the snowy vacation #harry holland #harry holland blurb #harry holland one shot #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine

35 notes · View notes

cupidmarwani-archive · 4 years

Text

Five Times the 126 Noticed Something + One Time They Said Something

Summary: Five times they notice the codependency and one time they speak up. (Also available on AO3 @cupidmarwani)

Warnings: Codependency, neglect(?)

WC: ~3.1k

1. Paul

Paul has made a career out of his instincts. They’re always spot on and he picks up on the things that other people miss at first. He’s learned to trust himself. After all, it’s saved his life and that of his crews countless times. It would be crazy to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his head when he watches the way TK and Owen interact sometimes.

He can’t exactly put his finger on it at first. It’s not a life or death situation, or anything that would warrant mentioning it, but he can’t help the thought that something is off. They’re close, sure. Closer than a lot of parents and their children. Maybe it’s bordering on too close, however, because his heart does a strange flip inside his chest when he watches the way Owen pulls TK to the side and says something to him in a low voice with a hand on the back of his neck. It’s an affectionate gesture they’re all used to; Owen had done that to Carlos when TK was in a coma, to Judd when he had a meltdown, to Mateo after a rough call- it’s like a pat on the back. But what gets to him is the fact that TK looks seconds from bursting into tears, quietly nodding along to whatever’s being said.

When Paul glances around to find out if anyone else is seeing this, he finds no one. They must all be busy. It’s just him, trying to appear casual as he watches Owen go through whatever speech he has while TK just agrees and eventually starts chewing on his hoodie string. Owen doesn’t stop him, but he doesn’t let go of him either. Paul doesn’t believe Owen would hurt him, now, in the past, or ever, but something isn’t entirely right here.

Once their conversation is finished, the two hug, and Owen retreats to his office while TK wipes his eyes quickly. That’s when he decides to intervene. He walks up to TK and sets a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. The kid’s cheeks are flushed and eyes a little glassy.

“Everything okay?”unusual for him

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just-” TK takes in a shuddering deep breath. “I’m all good. I just don’t like disappointing Cap, you know?”

“Right.”

For today, Paul dismisses it as TK being sensitive to negativity, which isn’t too out of the ordinary, but he still can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than meets the eye.

2. Judd

It takes a while for Judd to get used to the new 126. He takes the same route to work, but the firehouse is different, and the people inside even more so. Of course he loves them just as he did his old crew, but there’s still parts of them he’s putting together in his head. While he knows how they all take their coffee, he’s still working on things like what marks their frustration or pain.

Out of them, he thinks he’s gotten the closest to Owen so far. They have shared experiences, if nearly two decades apart. And Owen has this fatherly pride about him that makes Judd feel safer than he’s willing to admit. No matter what happens, he’ll be safe and in good hands. That’s a good thing. They’re all under the guidance and protection of a damn good captain, one Judd wouldn’t trade for anything, and yet, he notices after a while that Owen can be a bit strange at times with his son.

Not in a bad way, it’s just… a lot. Judd kind of brushes it off as them being really close, but sometimes it gets to him. They’re on a call, with another structurally unsound building, and when Owen insists on going in once again, he’s not talking normally on the radio. He’s not updating them on the situation, he just keeps asking about TK over and over. How he’s holding up, if he’s alright, what he’s doing.

“Cap, he’s fine,” Judd eventually says. “Focus up. Where are you in there?”

That mostly gets Owen back on track, but when he comes out of the building with the survivors, the first thing he does it look for TK, who promptly launches himself into Owen’s arms and clings to him, telling him to be careful. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s… Judd can’t put his finger on it. Come to think of it, the two of them live and work together. The only time he’s seen them apart was when TK was shot, and even then, Owen rarely left the house.

“They’re really close, aren’t they?” he mutters to Paul.

Paul nods, but doesn’t say anything. What is there to say? They just watch, and both TK and Owen seem much more at ease and focused now that they’ve had that moment. Judd has never been that close with his own father, even when he was a little kid who idolized him. While he never doubted his father loved him, he’s sure that he wasn’t this invested in Judd’s every move either.

Owen helps the survivors to the paramedics while TK watches him with a careful eye. He’s clearly searching for any injuries or any sign of a toll on Owen’s already weakened lungs. There’s nothing there, but TK still jumps when Judd clears his throat.

“He’s okay.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Judd hesitates for a moment before continuing. “Are you?”

TK doesn’t answer him.

3. Marjan

It’s the middle of the night when Marjan wakes up. She isn’t sure what caused it at first, but a quick survey of the bunks shows that TK and Owen are both out of bed. Curiosity piqued, she gets up and heads into the main area, where the two of them are on the couch with TK asleep, head on Owen’s lap. Owen seems to be headed that way too.

“Everything okay?” she whispers, coming closer. TK’s eyelids flutter, but he doesn’t wake up. It’s good to see him resting, she know he’s had a hard time falling and staying asleep ever since he was shot. Many a night she’s received texts from him at indecent hours. Everyone has. “What happened?”

Owen cracks an eye open to look at her. “He doesn’t sleep by himself anymore. Not when he’s had a nightmare. I’ll be honest, it helps me sleep better too.”

Instead of commenting on the fact that TK is 26, and Owen is his father, Marjan goes to the kitchen to make herself some tea. While she boils the water, there’s rustling and a distressed sound, followed by Owen’s voice, too soft for her to make out words, but loud enough to hear the soothing tone no doubt intended for TK. It must really be a rough night. She pulls two more mugs out of the pantry and digs out their favorite blends of tea to hopefully help with the struggle. While she’s never been shot, she has her fair share of trauma she’s struggled through, and is no stranger to nights like these.

Upon her return with the tea, TK is curled up with his knees to his chest, resting his head on Owen’s shoulder and staring off into the distance. She presses tea into both of their hands and takes a seat across from them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

TK shakes his head and Owen shrugs. He wraps one of his arms around his son as they share their tea, and the three of them spend the night out there together. Marjan falls asleep last, and notices how they sleep much easier on the couch together than they do in their bunks, as though TK is still a young child who needs comfort through the night. Maybe he is. It’s none of her business, though, since it’s not like it’s hurting anybody, and she simply files away the information to deal with later. Whatever makes them happy, she supposes.

4. Mateo

TK has the day off. He’s out with Carlos, headed to some flower thing or whatever to look at all the spring blossoms and have a date like they rarely get. Mateo’s happy for the two of them. It’s the kind of thing they deserve. And yet, the entire day, Owen is completely off his game. He’s distracted and on his phone more often than he’s not, to the point that even Judd seems to have noticed, and Judd isn’t usually the first to pick up on those cues.

It’s not really a big deal until they’re on a call, and Owen won’t get off his cell phone long enough to pay attention to the fact that Marjan and Paul are trying to get his attention on the radio from the rescue inside the burning building. Seeing someone in charge of their safety so completely distracted is scary. What if something happens to them because the captain is distracted?

In a moment of (stupid) bravery, Mateo grabs Owen’s phone right out of his hand and shoves it into his own pocket, where it clicks against his much cheaper flip phone. Now he has his attention, and also his frustration. Just as he opens his mouth to chastise him, Mateo points at his lit up radio.

“Marjan and Paul have been trying to get to you for a while,” he says. “You should answer them.”

As Owen responds to them, he doesn’t take his eyes off Mateo’s pocket, as if the world is ending and the only way to save it is to once again have his phone in his possession. Mateo holds his ground, no matter how scary it is, until the call is over and everyone is safe again. Marjan and Paul ask what happened, now that they’re in the clear. Mateo doesn’t have it in him to tell them, and Owen just says that something was going on with TK.

Mateo returns his phone and Owen is on a call right away, stepping away from all of them and talking rapidly into it for what feels like forever. It’s weird. If Tk is actually in trouble, they’d all be on their way to help, and he would have at the very least sent a message to one of them as well. This silence isn’t like him. And it’s not normal for Owen to be this worked up, even after he hangs up and says that everything is alright with TK. If it’s fine, why was he so upset?

Something isn’t really adding up, but it’s not Mateo’s place to get involved, he doesn’t think. It probably won’t happen again, and no one got hurt. Still, what if it does happen again, and this time someone actually gets in trouble because Owen is too busy on his phone to take care of his team? Mateo doesn’t want to die, and he definitely doesn’t want any of his crew to die either. He looks to Marjan, because she always knows what to do, but she’s staring at the back of Owen’s head with an unreadable expression he isn’t necessarily eager to decipher. It can’t be good if she’s that upset. Paul and Judd seem just as put off. Mateo decides to bring it up later, in private, and find out what’s going on.

5. Michelle

It’s not even a bad injury. Owen tripped over his own feet in the firehouse and managed to land on his wrist wrong. Michelle’s 99% sure it’s just a mild sprain, but she’s taking him to the hospital either way just to be safe, given the job. He’s going to be fine, and he’s calm and composed as ever. Most of the team is, too.

Key word being most.

TK is borderline hysterical, asking Owen over and over again if he’s alright, how bad it hurts. He’s pulled Michelle aside three times to ask if she’s sure that it’s nothing major. He questions if Owen fell because of his cancer, if he could have injured himself more than what’s obvious, if she’s sure his vitals are okay. It’s not just worry over his dad, it’s a whole new level of complete panic that’s so unlike him given the work they all do for a living. She now has a second patient to deal with, as though Owen isn’t a handful in of himself when she recommends he get checked out at the ER.

She leaves Owen in Tim and Nancy’s care while she gets TK to sit down and take deep breaths because he’s started hyperventilating. She can’t figure out why he’s so upset, but for now, the most important thing is calming him down before he hurts himself. The last time she watched him struggle this hard to breathe, he had been shot. This is something completely different. Something that sets off more than a few red flags.

“TK, honey, can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily.

“Okay. I need you take deep breaths for me, alright. In, hold it, out. C’mon, just like me.”

After a moment, it becomes clear he’s trying, but it just isn’t enough. None of the other members of the 126 are stepping in, so they don’t seem to know what to do either. Maybe Owen would if he wasn’t already loaded into the back of the ambulance with the other two paramedics.

“Your dad’s okay,” she tries. His whole body is shaking with the force of his panic. “He’s just fine, I promise. Trust me. He just hurt his arm a little, and we’re only sending him to the hospital as a precaution. He’s okay. You’re okay.”

And yet, the only way she manages to calm him is bringing him to the ambulance and letting him ride along. He grabs onto Owen’s uninjured hand and just sits beside him quietly, looking up at his father’s face every so often as though looking for signs that he’s hurt worse than he initially let on. Michelle can’t help wondering why he would react so strongly.

Owen and TK are both off shift for the day because Owen has chemo when they all bring it up. It’s been a couple weeks since the falling incident, and as they all eat dinner, Judd blurts out, “Anyone else think something’s kinda weird with Cap and TK?”

Instantly, every fork on the table stills. They’ve all seen something at this point, sometimes more than once. Marjan takes a sip of her water and tells them that she saw them sleeping on the couch one night, and Owen told her they can’t sleep without each other anymore. Nothing else helps Tk’s nightmares, and Owen just feels better knowing his son is safe and sound. From there, they’re each sharing moments they’ve seen that just don’t feel right. The way TK cried at an expression of disapproval, Owen forgetting to look after his team because he was worried about TK not answering his phone. All the little things they’ve seen over the course of their time at the 126. The two live together. Owen broke into TK’s apartment back in New York because he wasn’t answering his phone. Every shift, they come in and leave together. They’re so worried about each other it surpasses the normal, healthy familial bond.

“You don’t think…” Mateo starts, trailing off and looking at Michelle.

“God, no, absolutely not,” she says immediately. “Not even a little bit. No. But they are really really codependent.”

Paul nods. “Yeah, I mean, I get they’ve been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy.”

“And it’s a danger to the team,” Marjan adds, clearly remembering when Owen was too distracted by TK to respond to her and Paul’s distress call.

For a moment, they return to their dinner, no one sure how to go forward with addressing this. There isn’t a right way to tell your captain and crewmate that they’re codependent and should probably see someone about it. Michelle finally speaks again after a few bites of salad.

“I think we should talk to TK first. Owen’s stubborn, even if it comes from a place of love.”

“Or we could talk to them both at once,” Judd suggests. “That way no one feels alienated.”

“Five hundred dollar word from the cowboy.”

“Shut it, Marwani.”

Marjan flicks some mashed potatoes at him, which he narrowly avoids. Luckily Paul has the good sense to stop him from retaliating, otherwise everyone would be scrubbing food off every surface in the dining area for hours, which is very much not the point of any of this. Once things calm down, they decide to talk to Owen and TK on the next shift, even if it’s awkward, because they have to protect each other, and that includes their captain and TK.

When TK and Owen come in the next morning, the whole crew are standing around in the truck bay, like this is an intervention. It kind of is. Before they can ask what’s happening, Paul asks them to have a seat, and they all gather up in a lopsided circle.

“Is everything okay?” Owen asks.

Michelle is the designated speaker, for the most part. Everyone figured she’d seem the least confrontational. “We’ve just all noticed some things that we’d like to talk about,” she says. TK looks to Owen and lifts his hoodie string to his mouth in a nervous habit they’ve all watched him indulge. “Obviously you guys are close, and it’s good that you are.”

TK looks up at her. “But?”

“But we’re worried that maybe you two are a little bit… too dependent on each other. Not being able to sleep separately, is-- TK, you’re 26. You should be able to sleep on your own. Owen, you should be able to sleep without knowing exactly where your son is. I get that you’ve both been through things, but this isn’t normal.”

“I don’t see why any of you should have an opinion this, when-”

Paul interrupts him. “It put our lives at risk, Cap. You were busy texting TK when he was out with Carlos, and Marjan and I could have died because you weren’t paying attention. And it puts your lives at risk, too. Having a panic attack because your dad fell isn’t healthy.”

“I just hope that maybe,” Michelle says, cutting back into the conversation, “bringing what we see to your attention might mean you guys can talk about having better boundaries in place. Maybe see a professional about it so you can function without each other.”

TK and Owen share another one of those looks, and the 126 can only hope they’ve gotten through to them.

#911 lone star #911ls #owen strand #tk strand #mine #fic

31 notes · View notes

tommyquackson · 4 years

Text

Not Working | p. parker | part 4

Not My Gif

summary: you and peter are together but maybe it’s just not working anymore

warnings: angst, depression, fluff cussing i think?

note: this was the final chapter and i loved this series. thank you guys for supporting it and showing it love. Make sure you request and read my other fics. ok love y’all enjoy!!!

this is Midway School of Science and Technology calling to inform you, you’ve missed 13 consecutive school days and if you miss 2 more you’ll be at risk of failing your courses and we will have to send police over to do a wellness check. We hope to see you in school tomorrow. Have a great day

So it’s been 13 days. You haven’t left your house in 13 fucking days. You’re beginning to smell yourself, you haven’t bathed or showered since the night everything went down. You just lay in bed, watching whatever black and white shows playing on MeTV at the time. You only eat about once a day, when reciting old life insurance commercials begins to hurt your brain. Your phone died a long time ago and you’re just now listening to the messages in your home phone.

You click delete on the message and let the next one play.

hey y/n, uh it’s Brad. Look i know you hate me but you haven’t been at school and nobodies heard from you so I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I do care about you and i wanted to say-

you roll your eyes and click delete again.

hey honey! Aunt May here, just wanted to let you know me and peter are safe and back home. I’d love for you to come over and have dinner on thursday, and don’t worry Peters visiting Tony so he won’t be here. Call me back or just show up okay hon. Love you bye.

Your hand dangled over the delete button before you sighed deeply. May never did anything to you, but how were you gonna pull it together enough to get to her. You were exhausted all the time, even if you never do anything. You looked at the time and date on your home phone and realized it’s Wednesday. You sigh deeply and pick up your home phone to call May.

ring ring ring

“Y/n! Hey honey, how are you?” Mays voice sings through the phone and for a moment the world seems a little brighter.

“Hey May,” You croak out, you havent spoken in almost 2 weeks and your throat hurts. “I’m not doing well May, everything hurts and I cant even get out of bed. I cant go to school, or eat or sleep or shower May I hate this. I hate it.” Your already raspy voice breaks into sobs and you wonder if she can even understand what youre saying.

“I’m on my way y/n, its gonna be okay. I love you and I’ll see you in 10 minutes.” May speaks strongly before hanging up the phone. You do nothing but change pajamas and grab a bag of chips before moving back into your bed and wait for May.

It’s not long before May is knocking and slowly opening your front door.

She looks at you with tears in her eyes before walking over and oulling you into a hug. It feels weird to have human contact but you dont pull away, just allow her to cuddle you.

“Lets get you a bath, I’ll help you wash your hair.” She smiles lightly before pulling you up and towards the bathroom.

You sit on the toilet while she gets the water and bubbles ready. Once its ready she turns away while you strip down and step in, letting your body sink into the hot water and lavendar bubbles. She immediately picks up water in a cup and pours it over your head, careful to not let it spill in your eyes, shes treating you like a mother treats an infant but you dont have the capacity to stop her. You sit in silence for a while as she brushes through the mats in your hair until you decide to speak up.

“May? Does he love me?” You croak out

She chuckles lightly before answering.

“When I first met Ben, I knew right away I loved him. He swept me away without knowing it. It was instant love, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. The way he looked at me made the world disappear and I knew it was the kind of love they write books about. The kind of love that turns rainy days from gloomy to comfy, turns blistering heat into warmth and fun, Ben turned everything into a fairytale effortlessly.

When you and Peter were in the 7th grade, and we threw him the birthday party, that youd planned most of, I remember looking at Ben and he was looking at me with the fairytale look. Ya know the one all the hot actors do in movies. Anyway, he was giving me that look and when I turned my head and watched you give Peter his present, I saw him give you the look, and you gave it right back it was precious. After that, everyday I saw you standing with Peter, he looked at you with the fairytale look, When he talks about you its with the same adoration he talks about Ben.

There is no doubt in my mind Peter loves you with every bone in his super body, y/n. You’re young and he can be a bit niave sometimes but he loves you unconditionally honey. You love him more than he loves you and he loves you more than you love him.” She stops brushing my hair and without a word begins washing my body with bodywash. I didnt even realize I had started crying until I saw a tear fall into the tub.

“I love him May. I feel like I need him to breathe, to live. I just dont understand how he could choose her over me.”

“Because hes a teenage boy and sometimes he doesnt think about what hw has, hes just like his uncle ben i’ll tell you that. You need to talk to him, maybe not now but soon, you need to tell him everything in your brain until its empty and your throat hurts from talking, and he will listen until his ears are sore from listening and his head hurts from understanding. Now, come get dressed and I’ll order us some pizza” May shakes her hands and drys them while handing you a fluffy towel.

She spends the rest of the night, telling you about this season of the Bachelorette while she helps you clean and do laundry.

“Thank you May.” You hug her as she grabs her purse to leave.

“Anything for you baby,” She kisses your head and wavees goodbye. You take a deep breathe and walkback to your room, plugging in your phone to charge.

After a few minutes it turns back on and slowly notifications start coming in, texts and calls and emails and dms from people and your old friends. You clear them all and head for you contacts, you find Peters name and decide to text instead of call.

peter

Hey

Can you come over?

hey, is everything okay?

I need to talk to you

Of course, I’m on my way.

You sigh and begin writing down everything you need to talk about, until you hear a knock on your window. You shakily stand up move towards your window, opening it and taking a step back.

“Hi” Peter whispers with his hands in his pockets.

“Hi” You whisper back.

“What’d you uh wanna talk about” Peter asks, slowly bouncing on the ball of his feet.

“Uh okay, um please sit. So um, as you probably know i haven’t been to school in a minute and uh that’s because ive been laying in my bed depressed and confused. May come over today and she helped a lot and she convinced me to talk to you about everything and that’s what i’m doing so I just need you to listen to everything in gonna spill out and i’m gonna do my best to make everything make as much sense as possible.” You look to Peter for confirmation and continue when he nods quickly.

“Okay uh first, I wanna say I’m sorry, for everything. For Brad, for ignoring you and yelling at you and for being a shitty friend. You were right about Brad and i’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I just wanted so bad to be wanted ya know? I was feeling so insecure about you loving me that I ran to the first person that showed interest in me. I’m also sorry i basically ditched you guys for him, i just couldn’t look at any of you without feeling nearly sick. But i miss my best friends and I miss you Peter.

I’ve known since we were children that you were special to me. I always assumed it was one sided because I’d seen you go after other girls so i felt like there was no way you could ever love me as much as i love you, but I know now that you do, or did or do i don’t know but I do know that for me, you’re everything I need. We’re soulmates Pete, I can feel it. I feel deep in my heart that the universe made us just to be together and being without you would be to deny the universe herself and who am i? I need you so much when you aren’t around me i can barely breathe and a part of me is missing. I love you unconditionally and I always have.

What you did with Mj killed me, shattered my heart because I felt like once again, you chose her over me, your bestfriend and girlfriend and I hated that feeling each time I got it. The night i broke up with you I cried until my head hurt to much to stay awake, i felt stupid for thinking you wanted me more than her and I understood it. I looked at Mj and it felt like a no brained to pick her but it still never felt right. I know you didn’t mean it and we’re still so young peter. We’re basically kids trying to form a life long relationship and we don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know how or what i’m going to do but I wanna be with you peter. I would have to take it slow of course but that’s where i’m at with us. So um yea.” You let out a sigh of relief of getting everything off your chest. You look away from Peter and wipe the tears that had fallen during your mini speech.

“I love you. I do. So much. Ever since our breakup i’ve been planning and wondering how to get you back. I felt lost without you and I never wanted you to feel less than. You’re perfect in every way y/n. You’re my oxygen and MJ is honestly just a friend. She could never make me feel the way you make me feel. We’ve got May and Ben type of love babe I swear we do. It was a stupid mistake but of you give me another chance I promise I will spend the rest of my life proving to you you mean the world to me and i will choose you again and again. I love you y/n and i want you to always know that.” Peter speaks through tears as he pulls your body close to his. He whispers how much he loves you against your temple as you break down and sob into his chest.

“Can you stay the night?” You whisper up at him.

“Will you let me take you out? Friday?” He looks hopefully at you. You smile lightly and bite your lip.

“Yes.”

“Then yes. I’ll stay with you” He kisses your forehead once more, before pulling you both under the covers to cuddle into you fall asleep to the beat of peters heart.

taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @silver-winter-wolf @just4muggles @randomtrashpanda @sunshine-ybba @jin-hyuks @lovely-geek @jackiehollanderr @des0rbitadx @flowersgirl02 @eridanuswave @dear-selena @lavender-lovin @greatpizzascissorstaco

#tom holland headcanon #tom holland #peter x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #brad davis #imagine

58 notes · View notes

carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

Link

Happy Birthday to @vkelleyart ! This is a gift fic for you based on the prompt for a character who is “unable to open their eyes for a few moments after a kiss” (I didn’t forget you liked that one!)

So here is a day in the life with SImon and Baz. Hope you enjoy it and enjoy your day!

Read at Ao3

In Between Days

Baz

It’s the fourth week in a row I’ve invited myself to the Bunces’ home. I can’t spend my weekends alone at Watford when I know Simon is just a few hours’ drive away.

It’s not like we don’t talk on mobile. Well, I talk. Simon mostly gives me monosyllabic answers and drawn out silences. But I get to hear the sound of his breathing and that calms me. I know it calms him too. I talk to him until he falls asleep most nights, until I can hear his breath puff in and out through the speaker (mouth breather).

Bunce usually takes his mobile from him once he’s asleep and then she tells me what Simon doesn’t: how he’s sleeping, if he’s eating enough. What goes on during his days with her, when I’m sitting in class—desperate to reach out to him—but forcing myself to translate interminably long passages of Greek for the Minotaur instead.

Father has let me have the Jag at Watford this term. I asked him for it near the end of the holiday break. He heard me out, when I made my request for it, his forehead creasing in concentration. “He’ll be alright with Martin and Penelope, Basilton. I’ve no doubt about that. And Wellby will make sure to check in on him as well. He’s awfully fond of the boy.”

“So am I.” My words came out as a whisper. It was the first time I’d been so open to Father about my feelings for Simon. I don’t regret saying it, no matter what his response.

It’s true and I’m done hiding.

Father’s hand gripped my shoulder briefly. “I know.”

My eyes darted to his. His expression eased and a hint of a smile quirked his lips. “I may be old but I’m not blind. It wasn’t hard to puzzle it out at Christmas.”

I could feel my ears go warm as what little blood I have rushed into them. I opened my mouth to make some retort but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t deny it.

And he didn’t seem perturbed by it.

“And if I had been too thick to notice then, it certainly wouldn’t have escaped my attention now. You’ve spent practically every moment driving down there to see him.” Father waved a hand at me, as if to forestall any comment on my part. “It’s understandable. The boy has been through the unthinkable.” He shook his head and his hand made an involuntary movement towards the inside pocket of his suit jacket, where he keeps his wand. “Simon needs the companionship of those who care for him.”

My mouth went dry. This was not the direction I expected this conversation to go. I should have known better than to underestimate Father’s powers of perception. He’s sharp and Daphne’s a natural empath, so I suppose it was inevitable that they would figure it out. I swallowed in an attempt to force some moisture to my mouth. “So, you’ll let me have the car?” I needed to get back to the point at hand. I wasn’t sure I could handle the intensity of a heart to heart at that moment.

Father nodded. “Yes, yes. You’ll try to figure out some other way to get to him if I say no.” There was an unexpected glint in his eye as he spoke. He must have appreciated my perplexed expression because he raised his eyebrows, shoved his hands in his pockets, and huffed an unanticipated laugh. “You know your mother and I started dating at Watford.” This was a startling topic. I’ve rarely heard him speak of those times. Most of my information has come from Fiona.

He kept speaking, eyes gazing off in the distance somewhere over my left shoulder. “Your mother would always come here for the summer and I would be in Suffolk.” His eyes darted to me again. “I know every possible route from the estate there to our door here.” He huffed again. “I can’t tell you how many times I asked my father to borrow the car so I could save time on travel and have more time to spend with Natasha.” He pulled a key fob out of his pocket and dangled it in the air between us. “I’ll not make you endure the vagaries of the British rail system the way he made me.”

I took the keys from his hand. “Thank you.” I meant it. I was in a state of shock, honestly. He’d been utterly nonchalant about my feelings for Simon, uncharacteristically forthcoming about his past with my mother, and so unexpectedly kind about it all. I put out my hand to shake his and he gripped it with both of his, for longer than usual.

“Don’t park it at the lot near the Wood. The snow devils are hell this time of year. The last thing you need is them messing about with the motor or pelting the car with chestnuts. If the Mage’s Men could park off the Courtyard so can you. Mitali should have no problem with it.”

Headmistress Bunce has had no problem with my car or my mobile. She reversed the technology ban as soon as she set foot on the grounds. Considering she had provided Bunce with a contraband mobile during eighth year, this did not come as much of a surprise to me.

I grab the key fob from my desk and make my way down the steps of Mummers. The snow is swirling with the wind but there’s not much to speak of on the car yet. It’s early still. It might be thick by the time I get back tonight.

I’ll have to come back tonight. The Bunces’ home is bursting at the seams with people. There’s no place for me to stay when I go. Simon theoretically sleeps on a cot in Bunce’s room though I think she lets him crash on her bed more often than not. She complains about his wings enough.

I’m envious.

I know Bunce and Simon are just friends. I’m not bothered about that. I just miss his presence in our room so much that it hurts. There’s an ache in my chest when I look at his empty bed.

I’ve left it all just as it was the day he bolted to come find me. Dirty trackies in the corner, an untidy pile of books on his desk, his wand on the table, his bed a rumpled mess.

Slightly more rumpled now because I’ve been curling up on it, inhaling the faint smoky scent of him it still holds.

The motorway is fairly empty this time of day. I’m not a morning person by nature but the earlier I get on the road the longer I can spend with Simon. I’ll forego a few hours’ sleep if I can spend those hours with him instead.

I texted Bunce before I left, so she’ll know to expect me. She’ll make sure Simon’s up and about. He used to always be up with the sun, the bloody git, blundering around the room. I’d wake up to the sound of him only to huff and groan in mock annoyance. I’d watch him from under my half-closed eyelids as he riffled through his papers, hunted under the bed for his shoes, shrugged on his uniform jacket.

Simon’s not such an early riser anymore. Bunce says he still wakes with the sun, on the nights he gets any sleep, but he’s not up and about. Not until she harangues him for a bit. Or more than a bit. She usually manages to chivvy him to the kitchen for breakfast but then he’s a lump on the sofa for hours after.

Thousand-yard stares. Long stretches of immobility on the Bunces lumpy sofa. Silent walks with me.

He was never one for many words, but in the time since the Mage’s death he’s been painfully laconic in his speech.

I know he’s still in shock. It’s so much to take in. Simon had so little to begin with and now he’s lost that. The Mage. Ebb. Wellbelove. His magic. Watford.

He’s still got Bunce.

And now he has me, for whatever that’s worth.

It breaks my heart that his world shattered, just as my fondest dream finally came true. I’m not sure I’m a worthy trade.

I rap on the Bunces’ front door when I arrive. The snow is thicker here, flakes swirling around my head as I stamp my feet to stay warm. The door flies open and Priya rolls her eyes at the sight of me. “Oh, it’s you.”

I follow her in, relishing the warmth that washes over me. Headmistress Bunce is seated at the kitchen table, tapping away at her laptop. “Basilton.”

“Headmistress.” She usually makes the trip home early Friday afternoon and heads back to Watford at first light on Mondays.

“They’re in Penny’s room. You know the way.”

I give a warning knock on the door before I lean in to take a look. Bunce is seated at her desk but her chair is spun around to face Simon. He’s sprawled out on his stomach, wings nestled against his back, shirtless as usual.

“Baz.” Bunce greets me first, but Simon is already sitting up as she speaks.

I drop down on the bed next to him and press a gentle kiss to his temple. “Good morning, love.”

Bunce, as expected, snorts. “I’ll leave you two for a bit, shall I?” She ruffles Simon’s hair as she walks past us and then give me quick squeeze on the shoulder. Our eyes meet and she shrugs.

Not much has changed then.

Simon ends up on his side, head in my lap, as I lean against the wall by Bunce’s bed, my fingers sliding through his curls. I tell him about my week, all the stupid, useless, trivial things that happened at Watford since I’ve seen him last. Anything to distract him.

“Dev’s been sick this week so Niall tried to use “snug as a bug in a rug” to tuck the blankets around him when he was shivering and damn near strangled him instead. They got so damn tight around him it took both of us to get him unraveled.”

Simon tilts his head back to look at me. “You didn’t come up with a spell?”

There’s a glint in his eye, one I haven’t seen in far too long. I’m so desperate for it, I must be imagining it’s there.“I wasn’t there when he cast it. Niall tried something else but that just unwound the weave of the blanket and he couldn’t spell that away. Left Dev wrapped up like Frodo after the spider got to him. That’s when he shouted for me.”

Simon blinks up at me. “You didn’t use an “as you were”?

I’m not imagining it. Even his tone of voice is sharper.

I shake my head, focused on keeping my own voice calm and steady. “No, that would have just taken him back to the too-tight blankets. You know you can’t keep doing “as you were” over and over, once you’ve done another spell. It would just go back and forth between the two most recent ones.”

“How’d you get him free?” This is perhaps the most interest he’s shown in happenings at Watford since I returned to school. I can’t help the sharp flare of hope that shoots through me.

I keep my voice light. “I used scissors.”

“You did not!”

“I had to. I couldn’t think of a spell to put the blanket back together and every time I pulled on a strand it just got tighter.”

“I’ve never known you to be at a loss for a spell.” Simon narrows his eyes at me. I know this look. It usually presages him jutting his chin out in that delectable way of his. “Why didn’t you use “into thin air”?

Why the bollocks hadn’t I used that? Hadn’t even thought of it. I had just snatched the scissors from Dev’s desk and proceeded to decimate the shreds of the blanket. Perhaps the darkening shade of Dev’s face had alarmed me too much.

I feel quite mortified about it now. Blast Niall. He didn’t think of it either.

I still can’t tamp down the rush of warmth that comes over me from Simon’s words though. Not only for his faith in me, or for his immediate ability to think of an appropriate spell for the situation, but also for that brief spark of the old Simon. That’s progress, isn’t it?

It’s more than I’ve seen so far.

I shrug. It’s a terrible habit I’ve undoubtedly picked up from him. “I’m not infallible. Dev took Niall’s blanket in recompense and made him deal with the mess we left behind. Now they’ve been fighting over how warm to keep the room since Dev’s got the only blanket.”

A flicker of a smile crosses Simon’s face. “If it was you, I’d have just made you share.”

My heart beats faster. I think I might swoon at his words, it’s not beneath me.

I don’t want to disrupt the moment though, so all I do is run my fingertip along his jawline. “You’re warm enough I wouldn’t have to share it.”

“Prick.”

“Mouth breather.”

I force myself to keep my breaths even. I can’t recall the last time he insulted me like this.

I’ve missed it.

Simon stares up at me silently and I trace the freckles along his cheek until I reach the one I’ve loved for years. I press my finger to it, keeping my tone casual as I speak. “Are you going to be a lazy bones and stay in bed all day, Snow? I thought we had plans to take you shopping today.”

I attempt to devise some reason to get him out of the house each time I come. Food, shopping, a film. I’ve not been too successful so far but I think at this point even he’s sick of wearing Premal’s old clothes.

I get him up and rummage around the untidy pile of clothing at the foot of the bed until I find a shirt. I spell it on then spell his wings and tail invisible. I can’t do much about the awful track bottoms. Does no one in this family wear jeans?

We’re definitely going to do something about the lack of them in Simon’s wardrobe today.

We wander around the city center, drifting into shops, getting coffee and scones (of course we get scones).

I eventually find an upscale men’s clothing store and drag Simon in.

“This is too posh for me, Baz,” Simon hisses in my ear as I make my way to the shelves of jeans near the back.

“Nonsense. It’s about time you dressed in something other than chavvy track bottoms and Premal’s lurid tshirts.” I flick through the jeans, eyeing Simon as I do. He’s shorter than me but with a more solid build.

At least he used to be. I’m not sure of his size anymore. He’s lost weight since the end of last term.

I won’t think about that right now.

I find a few pairs that appear to be the right size. They may be a bit long but he can just cuff them. I toss the jeans at him and move on to the shirts. He trails behind me like a forlorn puppy.

“Baz.”

“Hmm?” I’m riffling through some fitted crew neck shirts that are velvety to the touch. These will do nicely.

Simon tugs at my sleeve. “Baz. I can’t afford any of this.”

“You can actually, with your leprechaun gold, but that’s not relevant at the moment. I’ve got this. I promised to take you shopping and this is going on my account.”

He looks as horror stricken as if I’d announced a nation-wide shortage of butter. “I can’t let you do that!”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s too much money. I can’t have you buying me clothes.”

I put the shirts down and reach for his free hand. “Simon. I want to. I’m your boyfriend and I want to do this.” I step closer to him. “Let me do this for you, please?”

He frowns at me, eyebrows drawn to the middle of his forehead. I squeeze his hand. “What’s this really about?”

Simon’s eyes dart away and then return to me, the expression on his face harder to puzzle out now. “I just … I just don’t need all this.” He gestures with the arm holding the jeans and then rapidly clutches at them before they slide out of his grip. “I’m fine with what I’ve got. I can go to a thrift shop, find something in my size. You don’t have to do this.”

It dawns on me then that he’s never done this. Simon’s never gone into a real shop, to buy new clothes. Not even an H&M or a Uniqlo.

It’s all been hand-me-downs at the care homes or cheap thrift shop finds. Or the occasional Christmas gift from the Wellbeloves.

The only full set of new clothes he ever had were the uniforms at Watford. The ones he wore all the time.

The ones I gave him interminable amounts of grief over, back when I was just his prick of a roommate and insufferable nemesis.

It makes me furious at the Mage all over again. Couldn’t he have taken Simon to a real store, to buy some nice clothes? Just once?

I realize I’m standing here, staring at Simon, clutching his hand far too tightly. “I’m not doing it because I have to, Simon. I told you. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you deserve to have anything you need or want. New clothes. New shoes. A proper jacket. Whatever the fuck strikes your fancy, because by Crowley, why shouldn’t you?”

He blinks at me. I step closer. “Come on now. I need to see how my terrible boyfriend’s arse looks in these jeans.”

Simon flushes instantly, his expression rapidly shifting from serious to flustered. It’s adorable. “You can’t be serious, Baz.”

“I’m deadly serious about clothing, Simon. I’d think you’d know that by now.” I can’t help but smile down at him.

He huffs a laugh and I relax a little. “You’re fucking ridiculous about it, you wanker.”

“Trust my judgement then, you fashion disaster. You’re a prime candidate for a complete Queer Eye makeover.”

He actually grins at me. “Well, you’re queer enough to manage all that for me, yeah?”

I am. Challenge accepted.

We exit the shop an hour later, laden with bags. I’ve managed to find two pairs of jeans that are sinfully fitted to Simon’s form, an assortment of soft shirts that hug his muscled torso, one slim cashmere jumper that clings to his shoulders, and a brown leather jacket that nearly caused me to spontaneously combust in the shop. I’m delighted with the entire lot.

A judicious use of “clothes make the man” in the dressing room allowed the clothing to appropriately accommodate his wings and tail. I’ll have to mention that spell to Bunce.

I load our purchases into the car and find a curry shop for Simon. I linger over my kebabs, just drinking in the sight of him. The color has come back to his face, cheeks reddened by the brisk winter wind. He’s digging into his chicken tikka with a gusto that’s been sorely lacking the last few weeks.

I feel a surge of satisfaction when he eyes the lonely kebab on my plate. “You going to eat that, Baz?”

“I had considered it.” I don’t mean it. I ate more than enough samosas. I’ll put some of the Watford rats out of their misery later tonight. “Oh.” He shrugs and I can’t keep up the charade.

“Of course, you can have it, you nightmare. I saved it for you.”

Simon’s face lights up as he reaches for it. It’s the little things that give me hope that he’s making some progress. I know I can’t count on it every time. I know he’ll likely regress next week. But every little bit of improvement is a step in the right direction.

We head back to Bunce’s place in the late afternoon. The days pass far too slowly at Watford and far too swiftly when I’m with Simon. I’ll need to leave soon, to make it back before the drawbridge goes up for the night.

I make some perfunctory conversation with the Professors, indulge in a whispered exchange with Bunce while Simon hangs his new clothes in her closet, and then let Simon walk me to my car. I try to drag it out as long as I can, but the sun is sinking and I’ve got no choice but to leave now.

The chill is more pronounced as the shadows lengthen. I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. Simon wraps his arms around my waist and I revel in his heat. Even now, with his magic extinguished, he still radiates warmth. It’s comforting, though I should be the one giving comfort rather than him.

Simon rests his head on my shoulder and I bury my face in his hair, inhaling the scent of him. It’s not the smoky aroma that haunts my dreams. It’s fresh and green and holds the barest hint of that familiar fragrance.

I lightly brush my lips to his temple and he turns his face up to me, lifting his head from its resting place on my shoulder and touching his lips to mine. I hold my breath. I’ve not ventured to do more than lightly kiss his cheek or forehead, not wanting to push him, not now, not after everything.

Simon presses closer, his lips firm and warm. And just like the first time we kissed, he takes the lead and moves his mouth, doing that thing with his jaw that leaves me breathless.

My lips part and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against my own.

My heart is hammering in my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears. I’ve yearned for this, hungered for his touch, not daring to seek it for myself. I’ve been content with holding his hand, letting him rest his head in my lap, feeling the press of his shoulder against my own.

I’m grateful for anything he’s willing to give me.

My eyes have drifted closed as his touch heats my skin and his mouth moves against my own. I’ve missed this so very much. We may have only had two days’ worth of spectacular snogging, but Simon’s kisses have become more than just a craving to me. I need them. Like air or water. I don’t know how I’ve survived without them.

I’d dreamed of this often enough through the years, fantasized about his lips on mine, his hand sliding up my back like it is now, his shoulders underneath my grip.

The reality is far better than I’d ever hoped.

Simon pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingle, arms wrapped tightly around each other. I can’t seem to open my eyes. I know it’s not a dream, but part of me still expects it all to vanish if I do open them.

It’s only when Simon’s hand slides up to tangle in my hair that I force myself to bring my gaze to his. The blue of his eyes is so close I can see the variegated shades that make the color so unique. There’s nothing ordinary about this boy in my arms. Not now. Not ever.

“I’ll miss you.” His words are just a whisper but I can hear them clearly.

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll call, every night.” My grip on him tightens. “I’ll be back next week.”

“I want you to, but you don’t have to. I know you’ve got schoolwork to do.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “I’ve no one to distract me during the week anymore. I’m so far ahead that I could take a week off and still not fall behind. It’s not as challenging, without Bunce there to goad me on.” I press a kiss to his forehead. “I’d rather be here with you, you know that.”

Simon’s lips brush mine once more. “I’d rather have you here too.”

I make it back to Watford just in time. The drawbridge goes up just as I reach Mummers. I take a shower, sort through my papers, read next week’s Political Science assignment. I wait until ten and then I dial Simon’s number. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey.”

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you too.”

I listen to him breathe. Words aren’t necessary. It’s enough to know he’s there.

My thanks to @basic-banshee @penpanoply and @fight-surrender for the encouragement, feedback and support for this fic during the crazy real life events going on as I was writing this.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #birthday gift fic #my writing #my fic #shopping #a day in the life

102 notes · View notes

silyabeeodess · 4 years

Text

FusionFall Retro 2019 Holiday Event Fic: Icy Imagery, pt. 2

Previous: https://silyabeeodess.tumblr.com/post/189843252259/fusionfall-retro-2019-holiday-event-fic-icy

The next day—bundled in layers of clothes with a large, black sweater draped over her—Silya marched up the spire to find around a dozen soldiers at one of its lowest bases all gathered by the Ice King’s all but forced invitation. Everyone had a holstered weapon, but fortunately, the area had already been cleared of Penguin Pests. The Ice King had manifested a table beforehand, and had laid a small spread of chips, veggies, dip, liters of Super Porp, and what looked like some kind of potato salad, but they were either slushed or frozen by the time anyone got there. Despite this, everyone had one snack or another pushed on them.

Waiting for the last of the stragglers to arrive, Silya sloshed her iced drink around in its cup without taking a sip, not for the first time that day rethinking her decisions in life. She wondered how insane she had to be to let herself get talked into this and whether or not it would amount to anything. Maybe she’d just spent so much time as one of Dexter’s lab rats that rational thought had abandoned her a long time ago.

Whatever the reason—passion, desperation, or her own madness—there she was, standing in the cold, about to take lessons from a raving lunatic. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one crazy enough to be there…

Even if only a few others showed up after her. Their pitiful numbers didn’t deter the wizard: He just glanced them over with a thoughtful pout and affirming nod before deciding to himself that they’d waited long enough. He raised his arms in a calling gesture, “Alright, alright, everybody, settle down.”

No one was saying much to begin with, all dialogue confined to a dull murmur, but they stopped to fire incredulous glances at him all the same.

The Ice King took on an authoritative persona that was almost comical, pacing in front of them as if he were their commander, ready to lead them into battle. “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here… It’s because your brains are all mush!” He waved his arms at the group. “You’re telling me that you all are capable of drawing from some kind of superpower, but you can’t even use it without a bunch of sciency junk? If it’s imaginary energy, then you should focus on using your imaginations a little.”

“Easier said than done…” someone muttered to Silya’s left. They were right. This was just the kind of thing she was worried about. IE went a lot farther than what the Ice King described—if it didn’t, then it would’ve been seen used in almost every aspect of human life—so, no, just ‘using their imaginations’ wasn’t enough. She glanced back the way she came, already considering her escape.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Who knew what kind of response he was expecting, but clearly whatever speech the wizard had prepared didn’t go much farther than what he’d already said. He glanced over the group again, the kind of look of his face that begged for someone else to step in. When no one did, he held his hands up, “Uh… look, maybe it’d just be easier if I show you.”

A light blue aura shimmered around his fingers, a clear sign to everyone of Ice King’s elemental magic. Some recoiled instinctively, hands lingering by their sheathes and holsters. Instead of directing it at anyone there, however, Ice King instead aimed for the ground. The magic scattered at their feet, manifesting in crackling icy, geometric patterns. Then it swarmed around them, a cold chill pouring over them like a sudden, snowy blast of air. Silya shielded her face from the winds with one arm, reaching for her sword with her free hand in case a stray bolt of ice trapped her legs.

Despite the Ice King’s bad history of encasing people in ice, however, none of them were harmed. Instead, the frosty cloud distorted their surroundings into some kind of strange, starry void washed in shades of green. The spire was gone and they were left hovering in the air. A mix of excitement and panic took over the group.

“What is this? Where are we?!”

“Is this some kind of imaginary world?”

“It can’t be. I’m checking the readings now, but I’m only picking up low traces of IE.”

Silya said nothing, taking it all in. There was no way this could be an imaginary world. Not that she’d ever had the chance to explore one herself, but no one could just summon one up like that! Besides, it didn’t look like much of any kind she’d seen from the reports about them: They were always spawned with some kind of wonderland-like element to them. There was nothing here. Nothing besides them…

Her eyes fell on the Ice King as their brief talk from yesterday entered her mind. Sure enough, he called them back to attention with a proud grin on his face, “Fellas, you’re in my imagination zone! Pretty cool, right?” He wiggled his brows. “It’s like a mindscape where anything goes. Even Finn’s got one of these—and he’s got the imagination of a missing sock!”

“Mindscape?” a young man echoed to her right.

Were they all currently somehow connected to the Ice King’s thoughts then? Like some form of telepathy? She grimaced, unsure of how comfortable she actually was with that…

“Yeah, everyone’s got one they can go to. Or should, I mean, I guess you shmoes never figured that out. But that’s about to change.” The Ice King hunted through his robes until he withdrew a worn, ruddy blue book. “You guys read my fanfiction, right? Since the ideas are all written out for you, it shouldn’t be a problem bringing Fiona and Cake and the rest into the world.”

Caught between a mix of irritation and guilt, Silya didn’t know what to feel worse. Did he make us come here just to see if we could bring his fanfiction to life? It didn’t exactly surprise her: Of course there was a catch. There was always something like this no matter what villain joined the Fusion Fighters. On the other hand, he had such an eager, puppy-like expression on his face that she felt bad for him. She bit her lower lip. While she didn’t have the hurt to dump her copy, she’d buried that brick of text somewhere so deep into her storage bank she didn’t even know where to find it without combing through everything.

One look at the others told her that none of them had read it either. Few of them answered him, and the ones that did had some excuse or another:

“I’ve been fighting fusion monsters, so I haven’t really gotten a chance to sit down with it…”

“Y-yeah! A-and it’d be a shame to rush through the story: It’s so… detailed.”

Miraculously, it worked, although the wizard still seemed disappointed. He lowered the book, muttering a faint ‘oh,’ before a sudden anger took over him directed at no one in particular. “Well, this was a waste of time!” The charge of emotion came and went, replaced with an excited smile, “Oh wait! I can just read some of the good parts aloud right here then! Makes sense, since it’ll keep us all on the same page.”

This time, at last, Silya finally interjected, raising her voice as a look of dread passed over the soldiers, “I think we’re good, Ice King.” Caught under his curious stare, she thought up something quick, “Think about it: No one’s gonna know your characters quite like you do anyway, so even if we managed to create them, they wouldn’t exactly be the same.”

She wasn’t lying: It was a case that happened all the time with imaginary friends. People had their own needs, desires, and impressions, and those things always imprinted on imaginary beings. It was even the case with their nanos, who took traits from themselves as often as they did their original counterparts.

“Artistic interpretation and all…” she finished, scratching the back of her head. “So, if you want to see Fionna and Cake, don’t you want them to be just like you’ve written them?”

He stared at her hard for a long moment—so long that she wondered if he’d snap again—but instead his expression turned a little sad and he dropped his gaze to the book in his hands with a casual shrug. “Yeah, sure, but I tried all that before. Even kidnapped some buddies of mine to find a life-giving mage to do it, but it didn’t work. Took forever to write all the stories again after that…”

She wasn’t even going to ask: Somehow, she just knew that they and the Ice King had extremely different ideas about “buddies.” However, it gave her an idea for how they all could get what they wanted. “How about a trade then? There this place called Fosters’ that specializes in imaginary friends. They might be able to help out. You show us how to enter our own imaginary zones and we’ll get you in contact Fosters’.”

Silya could feel the eyes drilling into the back of her skull from her fellow soldiers. They could judge her all they wanted. Frankie would probably kill her for passing the Ice King along like this, but after all the times she’d had to look after Cheese in the Darklands, the young woman felt that turnabout was fair play. If this was their chance of getting one step closer to mastering IE, then it was worth it: He could make an army of Fionnas for all she cared.

Before she could get an answer though, one of the other Fusion Fighters spoke up, “Wait… If this is a mindscape, then what about our physical bodies?”

The area went so silent that you could hear a pin drop. All heads turned to them, eyes wide with growing realization. The wizard answered somewhat dismissively, “Duh, this is an imagination zone: It’s not like I could bring those here. You’re lucky I was able to get everyone here at all. I never tried it with so many people.”

“But if we’re all here, then who’s watching our backs in the real world?!”

Continued through the following fic...

#fusionfall #fusionfall retro #ice king #fusion fighters #silya #silyabeeodess #video games #fanfic #fanfiction #icy imagery #ice king invasion holiday event #adventure time

5 notes · View notes

16ruedelaverrerie · 6 years

Photo

[Today, Courtesy of This Diagram Generated by @sebdoesstuff, a Performative Reading of the Natal Chart of Detective Gavin Reed, Born October 7, 2002, in What We Take to Be Detroit, Michigan, at an Unknown Time of Day. All Standard Disclaimers from This Post Apply, Including the One about This Being a Generalization, Because Even with the Natal Chart We’re Not Going to Get into Aspects or Full Houses vs Empty Houses or Anything Like That, I’m Not an Astrologer Nor Was I Meant to Be, Also I Need to Go Eat Dinner Now]

1. Rising Sign: presentation Sagittarius (blunt, outgoing, independent)

[The rising sign is dependent on the time of birth; it’s Sagittarius here because 12PM is the default time this website uses. My original choice for Gavin’s rising sign was Aries, because an Aries is just a Leo with an inferiority complex THAT’S RIGHT FIGHT ME ARIES but I rather like Sagittarius, actually! Did you know that every man I have ever been into but also simultaneously hated myself for being into had a Sagittarius sun sign? It’s a personal note you didn’t ask for but also it’s a broadly applicable truth.]

“I’ll make my own scrambled eggs,” says Gavin. “You cook like someone who made a deal with the devil to trade in their taste buds for pointlessly overdeveloped fine motor skills, which is exactly what you are. Your food tastes like a fucking instruction manual.”

“Is that any way to talk to your lawfully wedded husband?” asks RK900.

“THE LAW IS NOT JUSTICE,” proclaims Gavin.

Capitulating to the oppressive institution of marriage had provided them with certain tax benefits, muses RK900, but it had not done a thing to socialize Gavin. It's just as well, he thinks.

2. Sun: personality 14 degrees Libra (diplomatic, superficial, indulgent)

[Again, this post is probably more than enough contemplation of Gavin Reed, Actual Libra. This sun sign continues to be completely absurd and I am on board for this bogus journey.]

“No wait, not-- not from the back,” pants Gavin, struggling to turn himself over under RK900′s insistent hands. “I want-- I want to see your face.”

“Okay,” breathes RK900, startled by the tenderness of the request.

“I mean, otherwise there’s no point,” continues Gavin. “What? You think I’m with you for your personality?”

“...Thanks, you ruined it,” says RK900.

3. Moon: emotion 01 degree Scorpio (passionate, secretive, committed)

“You... I...” falters Gavin, fidgeting viciously with the zipper of his jacket. “...What I mean is-- that is to say, I... here’s the thing, you’re... I’m in-- I might be in-- ...I-- you--”

“Would you find this ordeal easier if we were both undressed and I was banging you like a screen door in a hurricane?” asks RK900, because it isn’t like he doesn’t know what Gavin is trying to say, anyway.

“Yes please right now,” says Gavin.

4. Mercury: intellect 28 degrees Virgo (analytical, detail-oriented, perfectionist)

“Reed, this is ridiculous,” barks Fowler. “Your report was due two weeks ago, I can’t have you sit on your ass forever. Just get it done.”

“But have you seen the body text typeface for the new electronic filing system?” protests Gavin. “The x-height on it is hideously minuscule! What it does to the counters-- it’s completely illegible, Captain! I am ASPHYXIATED by its lack of sufficient aperture! I can’t work in typographical squalor, this aesthetic is a disgrace to the force! I QUIT!”

“Your gun and badge,” says Fowler.

5. Venus: relationship 15 degrees Scorpio (loyal, possessive, adventurous)

“Here’s a handbook of sexual perversions that I’ve compiled for you,” says Gavin. He drops a gargantuan dossier in front of RK900, where it lands with a thunk hard enough to make the table shake.

“I... really don’t think this is necessary,” says RK900.

“Listen, I would literally keel over and die of grief if for some reason you suddenly decided to go slam your cock inside someone else instead of me,” says Gavin. “Tell me what freaky shit you’re into, and I’ll do it. You tell me what it takes to keep you around.”

“Isn’t there a nicer way of saying all this?” asks RK900.

6. Mars: action 24 degrees Virgo (occupied, particular, critical)

“This folder is for solved cases that haven’t been filed yet,” says Gavin, cursor hovering. “This folder is for solved cases that are partially filed. This folder is for solved cases involving drug offenses. This folder is for all cases east of Woodward but west of Broadway. This folder is for bad crimes. This folder is for cases that when I looked at them, I was like, huh! This folder is--”

“Please, your organizational scheme doesn’t make any sense,” says RK900. “I’ve had to patch up several critical errors during your attempt to explain it just now.”

“It works! I have a system!” insists Gavin. “You know how Fowler feels about me, would I still be here if I didn’t have a system that worked and got cases cleared?”

“Your continued employment at this station is a source of persistent mystery to me,” says RK900.

7. Jupiter: development 13 degrees Leo (dramatic, proud, demonstrative)

“You requested me?” demands Gavin as soon as the door to Fowler’s office swings closed, too befuddled to let his irritation silence him. “You asked to be partnered with me? What the fuck did you do that for?”

“You have... unorthodox methods, Detective Gavin Reed,” says RK900. “The capacity for improvisation is a quality I find lacking in myself. I intend to learn from your extraordinary proficiency in adapting to unforeseen circumstances.”

Gavin opens his mouth, only to close it again without managing to say anything. He turns on his heels and starts stomping away.

“Come on, you dumb shit,” he calls over his shoulder. His ears are flushed, RK900 notes.

8. Saturn: limitation 29 degrees Gemini (concrete, inarticulate, intuitive)

“As Democritus said, happiness resides not in possessions,” announces Gavin as he bursts into the bedroom, glasses on the bridge of his nose, squinting at several closely printed pages that he clutches in his hands. “There is an ethical imperative to question whether it is beneficial to hold onto that which can be held onto; if it is not, at times, more salubrious to our spiritual health to cast off that which we let fester by keeping close to ourselves. For indeed, as stagnant water breeds disease, so do we find that the objects--”

“Gavin,” interrupts RK900, “are you... are you trying to thank me for taking out the trash an extra time last week?”

“You have to let me finish,” says Gavin. “I’ve been working on this since then.”

“Hold on,” says RK900, “you spent a week writing a speech because you couldn’t say th--”

“--SO DO WE FIND THAT THE OBJECTS WHICH SURROUND US CEASE TO GIVE US JOY WHEN THEY HAVE OVERSTAYED THEIR WELCOME,” shouts Gavin.

9. Uranus: freedom 25 degrees Aquarius (scientific, original, technocratic)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We’re the generation that invented androids!”

“Some might say that you were adamantly refusing to be proud of this accomplishment until very recently,” remarks RK900. “Some might also say that it’s not your accomplishment in the least, that you had absolutely nothing to do with it, and point out that you have trouble operating a microwave on your best days.”

“They all have different ways you need to enter minutes and seconds,” says Gavin, hotly.

10. Neptune: transcendence 08 degrees Aquarius (humanitarian, secular, modern)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We’re the generation that replaced religion with unparalleled medical advances and brought us one step closer to a post-scarcity society!”

“Wouldn’t know it from looking at you,” says RK900. “Generation that replaced religion with memes, more like.”

“Who taught you to talk like this?” demands Gavin.

11. Pluto: transformation 15 degrees Sagittarius (confident, principled, revolutionary)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We replaced religion with memes and the whole world is better for it!”

“You smoke actual cigarettes and use voice-to-text to take notes,” says RK900. “I’m starting to think you might not even be Gen Z at all. How old are you, Gavin Reed? Are you a Highlander? Can you only be killed through decapitation?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” says Gavin.

BONUS. North Node: purpose 10 degrees Gemini (interaction, partnership, community)

“Go talk to him,” Tina hisses under the clamor of the bar, elbowing RK900 in the side.

“He has been uncommunicative and belligerent since my return,” says RK900, keeping his eyes fixed on the glass of Thirium in front of him. “Correction, he has been especially uncommunicative and belligerent since my return. I believe attempting to engage with him at this point would only cause him to lash out further.”

“But have you figured out why?” asks Hank. “You know what’s got his panties in a twist?”

“That is an unsolicited mental image,” says RK900, “but I believe it is related to my dereliction of duty while I was confined to Cyberlife for repairs. The damage was extensive and I was unable to assist with Detective Reed’s caseload for much longer than he has been accustomed to. The evidence leads me to conclude that he is still resentful of my prolonged absence.”

“Unbelievable,” says Tina. “Brain the size of a planet and that’s what you conclude.”

“Nines,” says Connor, kindly, “replay your memories from the night of the shooting. My hypothesis is that you may not have taken all the evidence into account.”

The memories from the night of the shooting. Why, when the way that Gavin’s been acting ought to be explanation enough? Why go back to the sound of the gunshot like a cracking whip, the split second of frenzied calculation, the bullet in motion -- straight as the crow flies -- Gavin’s eyes widening as RK900 shoved him away, the sharp brittle crack of his shell coming apart, and then the terrible, painful static filling his head-- and Gavin’s fingers, slicked with blue, shaking uncontrollably as he fumbled to hold the shards of his skull together-- Gavin shouting something at him that he couldn’t hear over the noise, then Gavin’s lips still moving noiselessly when his audio processors cut out, just a deafening silence as the countdown began, and barely visible beyond the angry blur of error messages and critical malfunctions that had filled his view -- only now in the solemn clarity past the moment, RK900 could see -- in the low light of the alleyway, on his knees in filth beside him, Gavin looked--

RK900 glances up from his glass, turns to the far side of the bar where Gavin has been all night. The giveaway flurry as Gavin whips his head away, pretending for all he's worth as though there’s something very interesting on the wall next to him. He knows RK900 is looking, and RK900 knows that he knows because he stubbornly refuses to look back.

“Go talk to him,” says Tina, again.

His ears are flushed, thinks RK900, and stands up.

#detroit become human #gavin reed #rk900 #reed900 #this isn't writing #sketch #WELL THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH FROM ME #eta what the shit #does tumblr mobile not do keep reading cuts?!#s...sorry anyone who is reading on mobile #but also read the whole thing i dare you #it's a dare you have to do it

629 notes · View notes

frisbee-camp · 5 years

Text

Let Me Help

AO3 Link//Wattpad Link

Tj and Cyrus have been friends for a long time, but will that change after life comes crashing down and impulsive decisions catch up to them? (Angst, Ambi, love notes, slow burn, aged up so they're all in high school, god tier ships, mental health, and like a whole bunch more ladies! Let’s get this angst.)

Chapter 6 Why do you even care?

Cyrus had had a rough week, but this episode wasn't nearly as bad as usual. He had spent Monday in bed but was walking Nala by Wednesday. His parents had noticed but chose to give him space, they only opened his door to give him his dinner. During times like these, his mom always gave him encouraging post-it notes with pictures of cute dogs and quotes saying "You matter" and "Even waking up is an accomplishment." Cyrus' roughest episode was after his brother had died, he had spent two weeks in the dark and didn't feel like himself for another year, that was when he was 13. That was when his parents had decided to put him on SSRI's. "Hey there champ," Todd had said as Cyrus was finishing up the homework Buffy had dropped off. Cyrus was sitting on his bed with Nala in his lap. Having her there always made the world feel more manageable. Cyrus looked small and beaten down. He knew he had nothing to be sad about, but he felt horrible anyways. It was as if the sadness of seven billion people had been transported to his chest, it was unbearable. In a small voice, he said, "Hi." "Hey, honey. Feeling any better?" his mom said as both of his parents sat on the bed. His sets of parents tended to trade off on this after-depressive-episode-speech. Cyrus closed his book and held his breath, "Yea" he said under his breath. "Honey we've talked about this. You can't keep going off your meds whenever you feel like. They're there to help you" His mom had said as she gently finger-combed his hair. "Yea I know mom," He knew it was a mistake to stop taking them, but he just wanted some control over his life. "Cyrus, what is it? Why have you gotten so distant? Is it the teenager thing or something else?" Todd said as he sat next to his wife. Cyrus shrugged, his eyes started to water. Don't be so lame he thought what is it this time anyway? Why do you always have to be such a baby? "Let's try another question," his mom said gently "why'd you go off your meds Cy? You haven't touched them at all this year. You know this always happens when you go off them." Cyrus looked up at the ceiling for inspiration, hope, courage, anything he didn't have. "I-" he started, but he couldn't finish, his tears had caught up with him. He sobbed into Nala's fur. "I-" he tried again, only to get caught on his own emotions, "I don't know, I-" he felt his parents rub his back, he felt their compassion." I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." he pleaded to no one in particular. He didn't know what was happening to him, everything felt like too much, too little, too confusing. It was too much for a 15 year old. "What do you need from us, Cyrus?" His mom said as she brushed his bangs back, He couldn't look into her eyes. "We're here for you, all four of us." All Cyrus could do was nod and cry. Normal he thought, I just want to be normal. Cyrus had spent a good part of the week wallowing in his own misery, but he was feeling more like himself after he had cried in front of his parents. He spent the rest of that day finishing homework and texting his friends. Andi and Buffy (and even Jonah) had made sure to flood his phone with dumb vine compilations and cat videos. Andi had even come over to give him his very own flower crown, complete with daisies and baby's breath. They had crowned him 'Prince of the Good Hair Kingdom.' Even Nala had gotten a little crown. Buffy had dropped off his homework and hugged him for twenty minutes straight, she knew her words wouldn't help him. Jonah had flood his dm's with cat videos and frisbee videos, occasionally cats playing frisbee and anything else Jonah thought was entertaining. Cyrus had expected his friends to contact him, but he didn't expect TJ to text him at all that week, he didn't think he'd notice his absence. Cyrus felt as though he couldn't reply to TJ's messages. Sure, he had spilled his guts to him the other night, but their friendship was just different. He didn't want him to see him like this. He liked the idea of TJ thinking he was as put together as his outfits. Buffy, Andi, and Jonah all knew he wasn't perfect, but TJ had only seen him fall apart once, and that time wasn't even that bad. The next day, the good hair crew had decided to get ready for Amber's party at Buffy's house. Jonah would meet them there. "You know," Buffy said as she helped Andi get into their elaborate jumpsuit, "I really do hope we all have fun tonight, let loose and stuff." "Did Buffy Driscoll just tell us to let loose?" Cyrus had said exasperated, he was sitting on the floor surrounded by Andi's makeup, he had just finished doing his hair. He was smiling again. "Yeah, I'm cool." Buffy said, Andi and Cyrus both laughed, "You guys! This is our first real high school party, we should enjoy it and all its trashy perfection. We've worked hard! We deserve to get completely wasted. Plus, we told our parents we'd be at Andi's right? So we're good" Buffy was now rambling to herself. "Buffy, we're fine," Andi said, "we're supposed to do trashy teenage stuff. It's part of the American school system." "I for one, am not going to get wasted. I don't want everyone from school to see me like that! I have an image to keep up" Cyrus said. "Whatever you say Cy" Buffy said, "Just know that when you do get trashed, we'll have your back." Around 9pm and after eating two bags of pepperoni pizza rolls, Andi, Buffy, and Cyrus walked to the address Amber had sent Andi. "I thought this was Amber's party?" Buffy noted as they reached the door. It was a seemingly normal house on the outside, but Cyrus could already hear the trap music moving the ground. "Me too," Andi said as the door opened. "HEEEYYYYYY" Screamed Iris. "Iris?!" Cyrus stood with his mouth agape. When was the last time he had seen her? "Oh my god! Cyrus! You're so tall now! Come in come in." She gave them all light hugs and motioned for them to come in. "Is this your party?" Andi said. "Oh yeah, Amber didn't tell you? My parents are out this weekend. Everyone's in the living room right now. Drinks are in the kitchen. You know the drill." She turned to walk towards what Cyrus assumed to be the living room. He could smell the teenage musk from here. "Oh! and upstairs is off limits" she added smiling. When was the last time he had talked to her? Did she know he was gay? Probably, right? Cyrus thought about taking twenty shots right then and there, seeing Iris embarrassed him beyond repair. Seeing her reminded him of his failed attempt at a love life. He didn't want to think about his love life, but seeing her flooded him with reminders of his faults and insecurities. Plus Iris probably thought he was still a nerd. Had she told people he was a nerd? Or that he was a bad kisser. Oh god, what if she told everyone he was a bad kisser? "Okay team, Amber should be here soon, same with Marty and- Cyrus? Are you okay?" Andi waved their hand in front of his face. "Me? Cyrus Goodman? I'm great. There's a reason we're called Goodman, because we're good, always chilling, like surfer brahs ya know how it is," Cyrus said as he nervously looked around the living room. He saw a couple people he knew from his classes, but most of the people there were in the grade above them. People had been trickling in behind them and he noticed that the room was not big enough for all of them. He felt cramped. Why did he think this was a good idea? OH my god he thought what if TJ's not coming and i'm left alone as the fifth wheel? Buffy and Andi had made their way into the circle people had created in the living room. Cyrus sat down next to them. Soon enough, Amber, Jonah, Marty, and TJ had shown up. "Hey" TJ said as he sat on the other side of the circle. "Hey" Cyrus had responded. For some reason, TJ wasn't looking at Cyrus at all. Cyrus noticed that Rester had shown up too, he looked away. "Okay ladies and gentlemen" Iris had said, "This game is called 'Buffalo-" Cyrus had stopped paying attention to whatever stupid drinking game Iris had come up with, he was now looking at TJ. Tj was in a corner talking with Reed and Lester, they were smoking something, but that wasn't was Cyrus was angry about. Cyrus felt betrayed by TJ, how is it that he spent so much time worrying about him only to not want to talk to him? Why was he hanging out with Rester again? Cyrus felt someone nudge his side and pass him a red cup that smelled like grape cough syrup, he tasted it and grimaced. He looked over at TJ with his dumb perfect hair, who was now laughing with Reed and Lester and took a big gulp of what tasted faintly of coke. "Andi, I want you to know-wait, Marty, Buffy! I want you guys to know that like you're my bestest friends in the world and like, You guys. The world is so hard you know? And like dogs are so good and stuff but everything is still hard even though we have dogs" Cyrus didn't remember where he was, all he knew was that it was somehow darker inside and everything was fuzzier. He didn't really know where his drinks were coming from, but he didn't care. "I just- love you guys so much" Cyrus was talking to his friends who were all on Iris' couch nodding in serious agreement. They too had rub cups scattered around them. Am I on the floor? Cyrus vaguely remembered seeing Andi and Amber laughing hysterically, if he thought back hard enough he could even remember seeing Buffy smile and pet at Marty's face while he twisted his fingers into her curls. He vaguely remembered seeing Jonah dancing and laughing with Walker. He thought he saw them holding hands too, but it could've just been his imagination. He definitely remembered them basically sitting on each other and he definitely remembered laying on the floor alone. He could hear the other party-goers talking and laughing but only vaguely, everything was a little cloudy, dreamlike even. It was as though this house didn't exist in this dimension, as if anything that happened here wasn't real. "Hey," Cyrus heard from above him. He could see blond hair. "T?" Cyrus slurred. He tried to sit up but his body had suddenly gotten a hundred pounds heavier, so he stayed on the floor. His eyes focused a bit. "No," Cyrus could see Reed move his mouth "it's Reed dude, you're like sooo out of it. You should drink some water bro." Cyrus hummed and closed his eyes. He thought about how Alcohol made gravity work ten times better. "Reed I don't like you," Cyrus said. Reed chuckled a bit and said, "Okay bro" as he helped Cyrus sit up. Cyrus kept his eyes closed, but he noticed that Reed had brought him something to drink that didn't smell like medicine. "Hey" Reed said again, "dude, are you good?" "I don't like you, you're mean," Cyrus said. "Yea I got that thanks." "You messed up my hair," Cyrus said as he opened his eyes a bit and looked over at Reed. "I'm sorry about that," Reed said, "hey who's taking you home? Do you have somewhere to go?" "Hey! What are you doing to him?" Cyrus heard someone say to Reed. He didn't understand some of the words but he didn't care. He closed his eyes again. "Did you give him something?" He heard the same voice say. "Yo, chill. I just gave him water. I was just trying to help. Why do you care so much anyway?" Reed said. Cyrus heard his voice grow more distant. There was yelling and cursing and he thought he heard someone scream, but it felt far away. Everything felt so far away. "Whatever Reed fuck off. Your shit was shit by the way!" Cyrus heard the voice get closer "Cyrus? Hey. It's TJ." The voice kneeled in front of him. "Oh," Cyrus said "Tyler James" Cyrus saw his arm move to touch TJs head. He grinned and sang "your're jealousssss" "And you're drunk," TJ said. "Ooo says the jealous boyyy. You cangetme water too" Cyrus laid on the floor again. He liked the floor. It was comfortable. "Okay Cyrus. How much have you had?" "Uuuhhhh like a lil lil lil bitty bitty bit, I'm not even that drunk." "Underdog, you're on the floor right now." "And you're up there. So tall. Like a building," Cyrus laughed and blinked slowly, Cyrus could barely hear the music. "Uh huh now come on, get up" TJ tried to get Cyrus to stand up, but all he could do was him to sit up. Cyrus looked at him and asked "Am I really your favorite person?" Before throwing up on TJ's shirt. "Oh my god. Okay Cyrus I think it's time for you to go. Who's taking you home? Andi? Buffy?" TJ said as he sat on the floor next to him. Cyrus didn't understand what words were being said to him and whether or not he was supposed to respond so he just grinned and said "You have pretty eyes" TJ blushed furiously and called to someone. Cyrus felt himself get lifted away, and next thing he knew he was in a car and then in a bed and then he was asleep.

#andi mack #andi mack fanfic #tyrus fanfic #tyrus #muffy #ambi #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #reed with the weed #rester #wonah #buffy driscoll #marty from the party #iris #ladies this is my fav chapter so far #enjoy #let me help #my fic

3 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 6 years

Text

Aspects Ch 5

Ch 5: Performer

Perry gestured for Norm to restrain the Father until he calmed down. Norm eagerly obeyed, wrapping his dad in an enormous hug that lifted him off the ground.

“Get out here right now so we can talk about this like mensch!” the Father howled, thrashing in Norm’s grip. “And if I find you treating my daughter like a science experiment, I’ll-well, I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but once I think up something it’s gonna be painful!”

“Seriously, Dad. I’m fine. No weird cybernetics or wires on me,” Vanessa complained as she emerged from the lab. “He’s working on a few things in the lab, so don’t bother him.”

Norm lowered the Father so that he was standing again, though he still scowled in the direction of the lab.

“Hey, you two wanna watch a movie with me?” Vanessa suggested. “We can lipsync along to a non-subtitled foreign film and make up our own plot. I’ve done it with Norm before. He’s a master at plot twists.”

“ROBERT WAS NOT A LIZARD PERSON AS DR. PIERCE ORIGINALLY SUSPECTED. HE WAS ACTUALLY A SNAKE PERSON.”

Perry was glad that Vanessa knew exactly how to keep everyone occupied so they didn’t murder each other before the problem was fixed. The Father settled on the edge of the couch so he could be next to Norm.

Vanessa sorted through a stack of DVDs until she found the movie, then turned on the TV. A reporter’s face popped up onscreen, an angry frown crossing her face at the overly cheery soundtrack behind her.

“It’s National Kiss a Baby on the Forehead Day at City Hall, and lots of families are in line to see Mayor Roger Doofenshmirtz select one lucky infant from the crowd-ACK!” the reporter ducked when a guitar handle nearly clocked her in the shoulder. “I need security over here!”

“Hey, you guys are cameramen, right?” a familiar voice asked. Suddenly another Heinz Doofenshmirtz appeared onscreen, and the camera jiggled as it was forcibly turned towards him. He was wearing that showboater hat again. Must’ve been in a musical number mood.

“Hey man, this is expensive equipment!” someone protested.

“C’mon, the speech isn’t starting for another twenty minutes. That’s plenty of time for a song!” Heinz exclaimed. “Oh, actually I got the number from the Chorus Girl Union here, lemme make a call! Then you can broadcast my message to the Tri-State Area! You hear that? You’ll be under my rule, and nobody can stop me!” He frowned. “I think I kinda overdo that last part with the whole ‘nobody can stop me now’ bit. Could I get a do-over?”

“HI, CONVENIENTLY TIMED DAD!” Norm said, waving at the screen as though the Heinz on TV could hear him.

“I guess you’d better get him before he does anything too crazy,” Vanessa sighed. “I thought the whole take over the Tri-State Area thing was in the aspect you just brought back.”

“He’s not exactly a good role model,” the Father said. “You two aren’t hogging the spotlight like that if the cameras ever get turned on you.”

“Norm can have my share of airtime. I don’t really care for cameras,” Vanessa said as she popped the movie into the DVD player.

Perry jumped off the couch and headed for the balcony. He opted for his glider this time, since he wanted to conserve the fuel in his jetpack.

As he flew towards City Hall, he wondered if Vanessa and Norm would accept him calling this particular Heinz the ‘obnoxious aspect’.

Perry decided to wait out the musical number in a nearby bush, one where he would be hidden from view but still have a front row seat to the musical number Heinz had put on. Thankfully, the reporters had moved onto interviewing the volunteers in charge of the event and were completely ignoring Heinz. OWCA would definitely get on Perry’s case if he allowed a fight to be broadcasted live to the general public.

With any luck, the Flynn-Fletchers were pursuing their own activities and not paying attention to the local news.

Perry could tell it wasn’t one of Heinz’s best performances. Heinz kept glancing over his shoulder towards the cameras, barely avoiding a high kick to the head from a backup dancer. Instead of focusing on the music, he was trying to be aware of his surroundings.

Almost as if he expected someone to show up.

Perry double-checked to make sure the cameras were far away. Then he crawled out of the bush, making sure Heinz spotted him. For the duration of the song, Perry sat attentively and listened to Heinz pour out all his frustrations about his brother being a natural people-pleaser.

Heinz’s performance improved in just a few seconds now that he had an audience. The song reached a final crescendo and ended with Heinz and the backup singers striking a dramatic pose.

Perry clapped politely, throwing in a whistle for good measure.

The backup singers broke form and were about to leave when Heinz stopped them. “Hey, so if one of you is interested in a date-” Heinz began, but they rolled their eyes at him and left at a much quicker pace than before. “Okay, I get it. My number’s on the list of clients if you need to mull it over a bit first!”

Perry raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” Heinz protested. “A normal dinner date would probably be two hours. That’s plenty of time to get through the introductory phase! But I’m digressing. Anyway, you see this crowd, Perry the Platypus?”

It was hard to miss, Perry thought. But he played along anyway, figuring this aspect was the one who valued their usual routine the most. He nodded.

“They’re all lined up to give my brother Roger their full, undivided attention and their babies,” Heinz complained, gesturing to the gaggle of parents and children. “Why would you just hand your kid over to a total stranger? This whole National Kiss a Baby Day doesn’t make sense! And what’s worse is that one so-called lucky infant will get all this fame simply because Roger is holding him! And what did the kid do to earn it? Nothing! When the voters see how much of a baby magnet he is, they’ll keep him in office cause apparently holding a baby makes you trustworthy!”

Perry glanced around, but didn’t see any inventions anywhere. Heinz didn’t seem to have a portable inator on his person either. There probably wasn’t one since the Scientist had Heinz’s inventiveness.

At the same time, it didn’t seem right to cut to the actual fighting.

“Perry the Platypus,” Heinz said. “Did...did you like that song? I just had to let it out, you know? Nobody else wanted to stop and listen. They don’t appreciate hard work, I think.”

Perry gave him a thumbs-up and an encouraging nod, which seemed to boost Heinz’s spirit.

“Maybe we should find an adoring crowd elsewhere,” Heinz suggested. “You can be my musical buddy. Unless you know anyone who’d be willing to listen?”

Nodding, Perry took Heinz by the hand and led the way back to the penthouse.

Vanessa knew that most siblings fought over the bathroom, but seeing it occur with two copies of her dad was just downright awkward and embarrassing.

“AT LEAST NONE OF YOUR FRIENDS WILL BE WITNESS TO THIS DISPLAY, UNLIKE THE TIME HE PICKED YOU UP FROM SCHOOL IN A BABY BONNET AND DIAPER,” Norm declared.

“I’ve blocked 95% of that incident from my mind, Norm,” Vanessa muttered. “Please don’t mention it again.”

She turned up the volume to drown out the ruckus the Father and Scientist were causing. The Shell slumped against the couch cushion on the opposite end, and Vanessa had no idea if he was actually paying attention to the movie.

“Didn’t Vanessa put you to work or something?” the Father demanded as he pounded on the bathroom door. “And just how is Norm supposed to learn any work ethic if you’re goofing off in there?”

“Geez, calm down!” the Scientist yelled back. “Can’t a guy take a bathroom break?”

“You got thirty seconds and I’m counting down. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight....”

“Norm, if I step out for a few minutes can you promise me that you’ll prevent any explosions or murders?” Vanessa sighed, deciding that she really needed to clear her head for a bit. She stood up and stretched, grabbing her phone off the nearby table.

“OKAY!” Norm exclaimed. “PLEASE TAKE THE CARDBOARD CUTOUT OF A COFFEE SHOP I CREATED AND PUT IT IN FRONT OF THE ENTRANCE OF THE BUILDING SO WE CAN DELAY PERRY THE PLATYPUS SO I CAN CONTINUE HAVING FUN WITH DAD.”

Vanessa shook her head. “That’s not going to work on Perry and you know it.”

The Scientist had stepped out of the bathroom to continue his argument with the Father, and Vanessa ignored them both as she exited the room. Grateful for the peace and quiet of the hallway, she decided to just wait outside for a few minutes.

She checked her phone, finding that Perry had sent a text while she was watching the movie to let her know that he’d found another aspect. They were locating them at a decent pace, so hopefully this entire mess would be put behind them soon.

Get rid of unsavory aspects of personality from target.

There were plenty of things about her dad she could name that embarrassed her. Sometimes he could be overprotective to the point of dressing up as a hippie and thinking that would fool a bunch of teenagers.

Then again, he did save them all from a swarm of bees. And he did know a few tricks about roasting marshmallows over a campfire to make them taste even better.

He could be obsessive about his schemes, and often spouted platypus and ocelot fun facts at completely inappropriate times. Her friend Candace fangirled over Ducky Momo and her boyfriend’s band a ton, so she found it pretty alarming that he acted more like a teenage girl than an adult.

But since his brand of evil wasn’t all that malicious, sometimes good things came out, even if they were unexpected. She grew to enjoy being a big sister to a robot after all. Perry was a great confidant, no matter how trivial a problem seemed. And her Mary McGuffin doll was a reminder that he loved her to the point of spending nearly a decade rummaging through any garage sales in the hopes of finding a silly discontinued toy.

In the end, she wouldn’t trade her dad for anything in the world.

“Perry’s probably back by now,” Vanessa said to nobody in particular. Hopefully the aspects had given up their fight. Besides, she needed to check on the progress of the rebuilt Aspect-inator.

“He’s probably just gonna run off again when you give him the opportunity. He never sticks around for the aftermath,” a voice sneered. “No surprise that Perry the Platypus overlooked me just like everyone else. And I never even left Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated.”

Vanessa turned around, her eyes widening in surprise. An aspect of Heinz Doofenshmirtz had been in the building the entire time and they hadn’t even noticed.

#phineas and ferb #aspects #heinz doofenshmirtz #perry the platypus #vanessa doofenshmirtz #norm the robot

8 notes · View notes

dualwieldingtymber · 7 years

Text

In the Game - ch 1

Cullen and his friends are a bunch of nerds. Does this include Regan Trevelyan? Maybe.

note: This is in the same universe as the Starting Over series with Regan and Alistair, but it involves Cullen and Regan Trevelyan, more than a year before Alistair and Regan Cousland meet. I just kind of wanted to do something a little different with this pair, and thought this could be fun.

Find it on Ao3 here.

“You must really like this one.” Dorian pulled out a small stack of expensive-looking plates and carried them to the table. “If you’re inviting her over for our weekly game.” In the years that he’d known the man, he’d never once invited anyone he’d gone out with to join them. He’d been pleasantly surprised when it was first brought up, though the subsequent planning had been slightly headache-inducing.

Cullen looked over at his friend and shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “I do.” He began setting up the map he’d prepared for the start of the evening as well as the things he would need to run the game. Several rolled up maps were placed next to his chair, just in case. He pulled out the figures for the characters he, and the rest of the group were using, as well as the figure she’d picked out after she’d made the request to join them and done the basics to create her character. “You don’t have to pull out your company plates, you know.”

“Oh, let him have his fun.” Bull’s voice was muffled by whatever he was doing in the kitchen. “You know he’s been itching for a dinner party.” There were a few clanks, followed by a muttered curse in qunlat before he spoke again. “Sera said she’d be running a little behind; said there was something special she was picking up.” He came out of the kitchen carrying a platter of meat and cheese in one hand and a tray laden with brownies and cookies in the other. “When should we expect your friend?”

“I think we can call her his girlfriend at this point, amatus.” In the time it had taken his partner to bring the food over to the buffet table against the wall, Dorian had set out the plates and managed to produce glasses and silverware for each setting. “And of course I need to use the company plates. We are having real company. We must make a good impression; even as we are protecting her fragile, low-level … what is she playing, anyway?”

Cullen felt his cheeks warm slightly. They’d never actually discussed their … exclusivity, though as far as he knew, neither had gone out with anyone other than each other. “She … ah, she should be here in ….” He checked the last text from her. “… in about five minutes.” He checked over the setup once more, glad that he’d had most of his maps laminated long ago. Should anything spill, his hard work would be protected. “She settled on a dual-wield rogue. I let her roll to settle on her starting level while setting up and she’s not starting as low as she could – she’s starting at level five.”

“So she’s two below Cassandra’s.” Bull pulled out four folders from a drawer in the buffet and set them down next to his plate. “Has she ever played before?” When the blond man shook his head, he grinned. “Well, I guess this is a good way to find out how serious she is.”

Before Cullen could ask what he meant, Dorian was sailing past him to answer a knock at the door.

“You must be Miss Trevelyan, yes?”

Cullen could hear a muffled reply, though he couldn’t make out what was being said. He took a step away from the table, toward the door.

“Oh, you brought fruit!” Dorian stepped back to let the new arrival through the door. “And you found another member of the party. Good for you.”

Regan glanced down at the platter of strawberries, apple slices and grapes in her hands and tried not to blush under his gaze. She’d debated about bringing something for days before settling on something easy. “My mother drilled it into me; you don’t visit someone empty-handed.” Her voice was soft, almost embarrassed. She followed his directions toward the buffet while the second arrival made her way in as well.

“Cassandra, so glad you could make it this week. We’ve missed your smiling face.” Dorian waited until she made it through the door and into the apartment before closing the door. “I’m surprised there aren’t more speculations as to your extracurricular activities with Cullen since you both keep requesting the same evening off.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes and just shook her head as she walked to the table. “I was lucky to get the weekend off. I am taking a short trip after we finish tonight. I do not know how exactly Cullen manages to schedule his day off so easily.” She quietly made a couple small sandwiches, scooping a little fruit onto her plate as well before taking a seat.

“I’m glad you made it.” Cullen stepped up to Regan and brushed a soft peck of a kiss on her lips. He could hear his heart in his ears. Even after months of dating, his insides still fluttered and his heart still raced just being near her. It had the potential to make running tonight’s game difficult, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He tried to ignore the eyes of the others, especially Dorian, when her arms slipped around his waist and she kissed him back.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She grinned at him as she pulled back, then looked over her shoulder at the table. “So … where should I sit?”

Dorian swooped in again and guided her to the seat nearest Cullen’s set up. “You’ll sit here.” He pulled out her chair, smirking at the frown crossing his friend’s face. “As soon as Sera arrives we can –“

The door swung open, effectively cutting off Dorian’s speech. “Let’s get this thing started. I’ve brought the ale!”

“Kaffas. How can any of you drink that swill?” Dorian practically turned up his nose as he took the case of ale from the newest arrival and carried it into the kitchen.

“Relax. I brought you an’ the new girl something special.” Sera pulled a large bottle of wine from the bag slung over her shoulder with a grin. “Thought you’d want to impress the fresh meat with somethin’ befittin’ your … her … station.”

“Really; you all don’t need to do anything special for me.” Regan felt her cheeks grow warm at the idea of them trying to impress her. She didn’t think of herself as any better than the rest. “I mean, really … I’m not my parents; I’d be happy eating off paper plates and drinking water.”

Bull grinned as Cullen took his seat behind the screen that separated what he was doing from the rest of the table. “They’re worried that this will scare you off, so Dorian’s doing his best to impress you in order to distract you, just in case.” He flashed a teasing grin at his husband, and passed out the folders at his side to Cassandra, Sera, Dorian, and himself while Cullen handed Regan a folder of her own. “Let’s get this game started.”

Additional note: I want to thank @nerdyskirt for her help with all the D&D parts. I have never played Dungeons & Dragons (I tried once, but the people I was playing with were not very welcoming or patient with a newbie, so ...). My knowledge of the game is pretty much limited to what I've seen on Critical Role, so ... without her, this story wouldn't happen.

Go to Ch 2

#Cullen Rutherford x Regan Trevelyan #Cullen Rutherford #Regan Trevelyan #Modern AU #In the Game #Dorian Pavus #Iron Bull #cassandra pentaghast #Sera #nerdyskirt

3 notes · View notes

heyheymarya · 6 years

Text

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Hello. Miss America has done away with the swimsuit competition, evening gown competition, oh, and the word pageant. Kate Spade committed suicide. Sigh. It’s been a long, hard week.

I realize many people from pageant land and outside spectators have spoken out with their thoughts on the Miss America Organization’s decision to no longer include the swimsuit or evening gown competitions in their now America’s Got Talent with interview portion contest. But what kind of former journalist/occasional blogger would I be if I didn’t throw my two cents in?

It’s easy to hear of news that somewhat affects you or your world and immediately become enraged and want to start a riot (just me and my friends? Oh, okay.). But despite the indignation I felt at the decision to eliminate two important pieces of the Miss America pie (see what I did there? :)), I held off. Mainly because I deleted social media off my phone and had less access to share my thoughts with the world. But also because I didn’t need another excuse to post old photos of myself in a swimsuit-- ahh, sweet memories.

But then. A friend of mine who I love and admire and often look to for wisdom and insight said something that really stopped me in my tracks. She has a podcast that I listen to weekly because I’m proud of her and I miss her, and she briefly touched on the Miss America decision this week. She didn’t have a ton of time left to speak about it but nonchalantly said something to the effect of “Honestly, I’d be okay if Miss America went away all together because I don’t really see the good pageants contribute to society anyway.” *Insert wide-eyed face emoji here* I thought I’d shake it off, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if that’s how a lot of people feel. Which surprisingly to me left me feeling unsettled. Let me explain.

For background, in 2009 I went off to a little place called God’s Country, aka the University of Georgia. Up until then, I had been a pretty “successful” individual for my 18 years. Nothing Nobel worthy, but essentially if there had been a grade or award to achieve, I did. With little to no effort. I’m baring my soul here, but I will tell you that I was one of those kids who, yes worked diligently most of the time and when the going got tough I cracked down and got it done, but GENERALLY good grades and achievements were things that came naturally to me. It was a little bit of natural giftings/Myers Briggs type stuff and a little bit of environmental factors. I had little to worry about because I grew up a white girl in suburbia with loving parents who believed in me and sacrificed for me to have anything I wanted (not like a Mercedes when I was 16, but like piano lessons for every week of my school-aged years and band practices and drama camps and voice lessons and a black escape to get myself to all these extracurriculars after I drove the mini van for a few months). When I was a freshman in the high school marching band, I thought it would be fun and good practice to try out for Drum Major so that when I was old enough to be Drum Major in a year or two, I would have more experience. I got Drum Major as a Freshman. I didn’t even know that was possible and apparently it wasn’t really a thing until then. Sophomore year, I randomly competed for a new pageant in town and because of previously-stated outgoing personality and piano lessons, I won. As a senior, I was beat out for Class President for the first time and was devastated I wouldn’t be able to give a speech at graduation. But the administrators asked me to anyways-- what. When I went to UGA, I got into my top choice sorority, earned a competitive spot as a Tour Guide on campus as a Freshman, and generally got by just fine without a ton of effort but a good bit of gratitude. I HAVE A POINT TO THIS OBNOXIOUS LAUNDRY LIST: when you spend the majority of your life breezing through, the first sign of turbulence is a doozy. I started not getting stuff just because I showed up (the horror!). My dad’s health hit a rough spot. I started experiencing some real boy drama. And because I hadn’t really had to deal with hard things, I turned to all the wrong places for solace. Boys, nightlife, social media, striving HARDER, putting unrealistic pressure on myself; for the first time my self-esteem was plummeting and I didn’t even realize it, let alone know how to healthily handle it.

I hit a pretty hard low and it took some really true friends to be honest with me about the person they didn’t recognize anymore whom they were living with. Slowly, I started learning what it looked like to live like the person I actually wanted to be. One day, a favorite teacher from high school reached out inviting me to compete in my hometown’s Miss Cherokee Rose pageant. It was a preliminary to Miss Georgia and the winner of that went on to Miss America. I didn’t really have dreams of becoming Miss America, but I did have noble aspirations of having abs on spring break that year, so I said yes. And it was the first time in my entire life that I set a goal and worked towards it. And, truly, by the grace of God (and probably the whole Myers Briggs and voice lessons and working out thing) I won. And when the crown was placed on my head, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather (partly because my legs were giving out from squatting as the crown was being pinned on my head) when one of my future mentors looked at me and said “You’re going to Miss Georgia!” I knew that was the next step, but I didn’t really start out on this thing to go to Miss Georgia! I didn’t belong there! I was quirky (weird) and petite and brunette and wasn’t THAT great of a singer and said silly things to make people laugh but was certainly not polished or poised enough to compete in a state pageant. But for the next 6 months, I worked toward become stage-ready inside and out. Turns out, there were several girls from UGA that were competing as well so we started texting and hanging out before Miss Georgia week even arrived. Many of them had competed before so I learned the tricks of the trade like putting hemorrhoid ointment on the bags under my eyes and how to apply butt glue so your swimsuit doesn’t show more of your hiney than is appropriate even for a swimsuit competition. But the more time I spent with them leading up to the pageant and during the week, the more I realized the depth that each of these young women contained, the passion for their communities, the dedication to their craft, the love for people that showed up through actions like visiting Children’s hospitals and investing in girls younger than them. I was in awe. After months of eating grilled chicken and spinach and spending time at the gym instead of the bars and reading about foreign affairs and local policies rather than binge-watching TV (well, we still did that a lot), I competed at Miss Georgia and won a preliminary swimsuit award and non-finalist interview award. For the first time ever, I was awarded a trophy based on my hard work and dedication rather than being in the right place at the right time. And that felt good-- empowering even.

I continued for two years in this crazy world we call pageant land, and my last year competing anyone who knew me knew I KNEW I would be crowned Miss Georgia that year. My fitness was at an all-time high. My platform was relevant. My gown was amazing. My interview was darn-near flawless-- I think I can say that... I had the HIGHEST interview score out of EVERY other contestant that year! It was in God’s hands! Annnnnd I lost. Like, really lost. Like had the highest interview score and still didn’t crack the top ten. If this had happened to the girl that showed up at UGA four years prior, a trainwreck would have ensured. Yes, I was upset and disappointed and confused. But never, ever, in that moment or any after did I doubt my ability or worth or value BECAUSE of the lessons I learned in the process of competing in the Miss America Organization. You don’t spend three years intentionally working to become the best you you can be without learning the true power and meaning that lives inside you. It wasn’t my plan, but I knew God was making it all work for my good and looking back on the past four years since, I was right.

I will tell you I’ve never met more serving and loving men and women than the ones who spend their free time volunteering for the local Miss America and Miss Georgia boards serving as mentors and coaches to the 18-24 year olds like me who often just needed a grown up other than our parents to speak encouragement and truth into our lives. I met some of my greatest friends and the mother of my God-children through rubbing ourselves down with fake tan, eating dried fruit and Puffs on couches while problem-solving the world’s issues, and coaching each other on the perfect French turn or confident gown walk. To you, it seems like just a pageant. To me, it was the foundation of much of my adult life and the reason I am who I am today.

Now I spend much of my days coaching, encouraging, and pointing young men and women to truth about themselves as the Director of People & Development over three Chick-fil-A stores in Athens, a leader of first-graders in our church’s elementary school environment, and a small-group leader for a circle of college girls. I would say the large majority of my weeks are spent with college-aged or right-out-of-college-aged individuals exploring the unique gifts God has given them and how they can use those talents to better themselves and the world around them. I teach first graders that we should make wise choices and that we can trust God no matter what. I remind college girls that they can do ANYTHING through the power of the Holy Spirit within them and that they are worth so much more than their grades, achievements, or failures. I would not be able to do any of this if it weren’t for my time competing in the Miss America Pageant because it is there that I learned that MY true value wasn’t in winning a pageant, but in the ways God has gifted me, in the way I love others, and ultimately in the way God loves us by teaching us hard lessons through something even as trivial as a swimsuit competition. My time competing for Miss Georgia is where I learned what it looks like to live intentionally, working towards something with my eyes never wavering from that prize. Back then, that prize was a shiny swimsuit plate or even a shiny crown. Now, I use those same muscles and skills I learned then to run toward the prize set before us which I believe is freedom in Christ.

So, yeah. I would say pageants, and Miss America specifically, contributes good to our society. When you have an organization that encourages young women (and, for me, during the most formative years of my life) to become the best they can be mentally, emotionally AND physically, all working to better their communities while learning what is looks like to compete not against the friends beside them but against their former selves... that is game-changing. These are the women who have become and are becoming our future doctors, lawyers, teachers, mothers, politicians, and influencers who at the very beginning of their adult lives learn the value of hard work (physically, mentally and emotionally), the importance of not living life solely for yourself, and that their value cannot be found on a scale or even in someone else’s opinion of them. In today’s society of selfies, SnapChat stories, and finding value in Instagram likes, what is better for our society than that?

0 notes

omcik-blog · 7 years

Text

New Post has been published on OmCik

New Post has been published on http://omcik.com/the-risks-to-the-economy-of-trumps-isolationism/

The risks to the economy of Trump's isolationism

President Donald Trump’s historic win ushered in a huge boost of economic optimism. The stock market roared. Consumer confidence hit a 15-year high.

But after just one week of governing, there are already second thoughts.

‘; for (i = 0; i 4) afterParagraphFour = true; currentParagraph = storytext.childNodes[i]; heights += currentParagraph.clientHeight; if (heights >= limit && insertAfterThisParagraphIndex === -1) insertAfterThisParagraphIndex = SMARTASSET.setDivIndex(i); console.log(“insert after paragraph number ” + i); console.log(“HEIGHTS = ” + heights); console.log(“LIMIT = ” + limit); } /* div with id=”ie_column” */ else if (storytext.childNodes[i].nodeName.toLowerCase() === ‘div’ && storytext.childNodes[i].id !== “undefined” && storytext.childNodes[i].id ===”ie_column”) heights = 0; limit = 80; insertAfterThisParagraphIndex = -1 /* embeds from twitter, facebook, youtube */ else if (storytext.childNodes[i].nodeName.toLowerCase() === ‘div’ && storytext.childNodes[i].classList.contains(’embed’)) heights = 0; limit = 80; insertAfterThisParagraphIndex = -1 /* cnn video player */ else if (storytext.childNodes[i].nodeName.toLowerCase() === ‘div’ && storytext.childNodes[i].classList.contains(‘cnnplayer’)) heights = 0; limit = 80; insertAfterThisParagraphIndex = -1 /* images */ else if (storytext.childNodes[i].nodeName.toLowerCase() === ‘img’) heights = 0; limit = 80; /* images stored in figure tags */ else if (storytext.childNodes[i].nodeName.toLowerCase() === ‘figure’) heights = 0; limit = 80; } if (heights >= 875 && afterParagraphFour) storytext.childNodes[insertAfterThisParagraphIndex].insertAdjacentHTML(‘afterend’, smartAssetDiv); smartasset = document.getElementById(‘smartasset-article’); smartasset.style.float = ‘left’; // allows module to have text float to right smartasset.style.marginRight =’20px’; smartasset.style.marginBottom =’25px’; }

SMARTASSET.setSmartAssetScript = function() console.log(‘starting setSmartAssetScript’); SA = document.SA ; SMARTASSET.setSmartAssetDiv(); SMARTASSET.setSmartAssetScript();

Trump’s executive order Friday banning refugees (and other visa holders) from seven countries from entering the U.S. renewed fears of whether Trump’s agenda is slowly cutting the U.S. off from the world.

Isolationism isn’t good for most businesses. And the message from business leaders is coming in loud and clear: This ban hurts business. CEOs of major American companies like Netflix (NFLX, Tech30), Google (GOOG) GE (GE), Goldman Sachs (GS) and Ford (F) quickly decried the order.

Wall Street also sent a powerful message Monday as the stock market put in its worst performance since the election. Up until last week, many on Wall Street and Main Street focused on Trump’s plans to cut taxes, spend more on roads and bridges and scale back regulations.

But Trump’s executive order Friday threatened to derail the momentum. That along with the talk of 20% tariffs on Mexico (or other countries) is bringing back fears that America’s ties with the global business community are under siege.

“American business and the American president are now at odds. It is impossible to be a successful global corporation with the ‘Trump Wall,'” wrote Peter Atwater, president of Financial Insyghts in his note Sunday.

Here’s a rundown of how bad it could get for the U.S. economy if Trump pushes forward with an isolationist agenda.

Related: Trump’s travel ban: Companies and executives speak out

1. Loss of top talent — America wins in business because it has been able to attract a lot of the top talent from around the world. Companies like Apple (AAPL, Tech30), eBay (EBAY) and Oracle (ORCL, Tech30) were founded by immigrants or the children of immigrants from countries that are part of the Trump immigration ban.

Friday’s ban is already preventing PhD students, doctors, researchers and business leaders from returning to the U.S. or traveling abroad. Google (GOOG), for example, says at least 100 of its employees are impacted. Beyond the immediate impact, the ban might cause talented young people who were to go elsewhere. Canada has been quick to put out the welcome mat.

Get ready for “unintended consequences” wrote Mahamed El-Erian, chief economic adviser at Allianz, on LinkedIn, “that ultimately could prove counterproductive and harmful to national security, the economy, and America’s moral authority, values and standing in the world.”

Related: These companies wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for immigrants

2. Big American brands and tourism could take a hit — Goldman Sachs has already sent a note about the “growing risks to global trade.” The bank recommends that clients invest in companies that are smaller and doing most of their sales in the U.S. Translation: America’s big global brands could suffer.

A company like Apple has over 200 suppliers around the world, according to Macworld. Anything that prevents the flow of goods or people across borders will cause upheaval.

On top of that, tourism makes contributes about $1.5 trillion a year to the U.S. economy (roughly 8% of GDP), according to the World Travel and Tourism Council and U.S. government data. Friday’s ban and the ensuing chaos at U.S. airports over the weekend could cause foreigners to book trips elsewhere.

Related: Will Trump kill the Trump rally?

3. A trade war — No foreign country will send a thank you note to Trump if he enacts tariffs on foreign goods coming into the U.S. They will retaliate. Mexico is already talking tough about a rapid response, and China’s army went as far as to warn the risk of war as “more real” over the weekend.

This is exactly what Republican business executives like Mitt Romney and Meg Whitman warned about almost a year ago. They said Trump could send the U.S. into a recession if he cut America off from the rest of the world with walls, tariffs and severe immigration restrictions.

It hasn’t happened yet, but the possibility is growing that it will.

This could have a swift impact on American jobs. For example, 6 million U.S. jobs depend on trade with Mexico alone, according to the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. And experts are already warning that costs will go up for many goods if Trump implements a tariff (another word for a tax).

Related: The tech firms fighting Trump’s travel ban with cash

4. Uncertainty could return rapidly — There’s widespread consensus that the refugee ban was poorly planned and implemented. It raises questions about how well prepared Trump is to tackle even bigger issues.

“The net result is more uncertainty and jitters among investors,” says Naeem Aslam, chief market analyst at Think Markets UK. Stock market volatility — known as the VIX — jumped 17% Monday, although it’s still at very low levels.

On top of that, the message from the business community to Trump since the election has been: Focus on tax cuts, lowering regulatory hurdles and infrastructure. Now there is concern that Trump is focused on the wrong priorities. That breeds greater uncertainty as well.

“The one issue that matters the most for Wall Street — tax reform — isn’t on the front burner, and could get delayed amid the furor over immigration,” says Greg Valliere, chief strategist at Horizon Investments.

One of the key economic problems under President Obama was that businesses sat on cash and didn’t invest much in the future. They won’t do that now if they see too many risks.

Related: A 20% Mexico tariff would pay for the wall. But it would hurt Americans

5. China may seize this opening — China is already trying to take advantage of Trump’s protectionism. Chinese President Xi Jinping delivered a robust defense of trade and globalization in a major international speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos. It’s a glaring contrast to Trump doubling down on his calls for “America First” policies.

In his first week in office, Trump also pulled the U.S. out of the Asia-Pacific trade deal known as TPP. That opens a big door for China to be the leader in negotiating a broad Asian trade pact instead.

It remains to be seen what other opportunities Trump may give President Xi. If, for example, Trump doesn’t show up to global meetings like the G20, that immediately makes China’s voice more powerful on the global stage.

Of course, foreign businesses trying to operate in China still face a lot of “hostile” hurdles. China’s talk of free trade isn’t always backed up by its own policies.

But the bottom line is if the U.S. puts up more trade barriers, the world’s No. 2 economy will look more attractive. China is already signaling it’s pulling out the welcome tea. That could have repercussions for years to come.

CNNMoney (New York) First published January 30, 2017: 2:33 PM ET

Terms & Conditions apply

NMLS #1136

0 notes