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shigayokagayama · 1 year

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teru week day seven: birthday

Teru wished he could say he had totally forgotten it was his birthday. He wished he could have gone about his morning as normal, nonchalantly checked the date, and realized oh! He was fifteen years old today!

Instead he lay in bed, sleepless, watching the sunrise through his blinds, shivering, waiting for his phone to go off.

He had told himself last night he had to get to bed early. If they called while he was asleep they called while he was asleep, he could just call back in the morning, no big deal. Nevermind that they always seemed to be too busy to pick up the phone. Nevermind that their voicemail inbox had been full for six months.

He heard his phone buzz and sat up in bed, staring at the light illuminating his nightstand. He waited until the light dimmed before he worked up the courage to reach for it.

“Hey! Wanted to know if you’d be available to swing by the office later today, just got a big assignment and could REALLY use the help. Thank you!”

Oh. It was just Reigen.

“Sure! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

Teru decided to officially give up on trying to fall asleep. It was, what, 5:30 am? Perfect time to wake up on a saturday.

As he absentmindedly flipped between TV channels he heard his phone buzz again. Reigen again?

“Happy birthday Hanazawa-kun :) Do you want to hang out today?”

Teru smiled. It was pretty rare for Kageyama to text him first. He was good enough at keeping conversations going, but initiating them seemed to be a struggle for both of them.

“You remembered?”

“Yeah! We’re almost exactly a month apart haha :)”

“☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ I have to go to Reigen-san’s around 16:00 but before then I’m free (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“I just got up but meet downtown around 9?”

“╰(*°▽°*)╯ Sounds good! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“Okay! :) See you then!”

–

Teru scanned the area as he walked through the crowded streets of downtown Seasoning City. The area seemed safe enough at a glance, but he could never be too careful. The man in a blue hoodie had been walking the same path as him for a couple blocks now, maybe it was time to quicken his pace. The man didn’t speed up to match him so Teru let his shoulders relax a bit. Oh, there was Kageyama, about three blocks away. He hurried forward, careful not to lose focus on his surroundings.

“Kageyama-kun!” he called with a wave as soon as he was on the same block. Kageyama looked at him with a start and waved back.

“Oh, hi Hanazawa-kun!” he said with a slight smile. “It’s been a bit, huh? How’ve you been?”

“Ah, I’m alright,” Teru said. Should he talk about his recovery post confession-incident or would that make things weird? “School’s been alright, and my friends from the Awakening Lab have been keeping me busy outside that. How about you?”

“Ah, I’ve been so busy with school and my clubs that I haven’t really had time for anything else,” he said, “I actually haven’t really gotten to see Reigen-shishou at all since. Uh.”

He looked away uncomfortably for a moment. Teru reached out and put a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile. Kageyama looked back and smiled weakly.

“So! What’s the plan?” Teru asked.

“Boba?” Kageyama suggested.

“Don’t think they’re open this early, coffee maybe?” Teru said.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee that much, it’s too bitter,” Kageyama said guiltily.

“Hummingbird taste buds?” Teru giggled. Kageyama snorted and rolled his eyes. Since when did he do that? “You know most cafes serve things other than coffee, right?”

“But you said coffee,” Kageyama protested.

“I meant it as a catchall for ‘served at cafes’,” Teru explained, “Context clues.”

“Do sandwiches fall under the ‘coffee’ umbrella?” Kageyama said, thoughtfully stroking his chin and suppressing a smile.

“My friend, a coffee can be anything you want it to be,” Teru said with the intonation of a philosopher. Kageyama giggled and Teru felt his heart jump. Since when did he do that?

–

“I’ll take a mint matcha frappe with extra whip,” Teru said, stepping aside to let Kageyama order, then jumping back in front of him. “Two pumps of mint actually, please.”

The cashier stared at him blankly, then flickered her gaze to Kageyama.

“Uh. I’ll have a hot chocolate I guess.” he said

“Any adjustments?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay so a mint matcha frappe with extra mint and extra whipped cream and a hot chocolate,” the cashier said. “That’ll be 1468 yen.”

Teru reached into his pocket for his wallet at the same time as Kageyama. The two of them raced to put their yen on the counter first.

“It’s your birthday,” Kageyama said, shoving Teru’s money aside, “Let me pay.”

Teru groaned and rolled his eyes, putting the 2000 yen note back in his wallet. The cashier took Kageyama’s note and handed him back his change.

“Fine,” he sighed, “But on your birthday I’m getting you the most expensive drink they’ll let us make, got it?”

“They get more expensive than yours?” Kageyama said, voice lined with disbelief.

“Oh yeah, I totally could’ve bankrupted you back there,” Teru said as they walked away, “I swear I’ve ordered 1200 yen drinks from here before with all the syrup and caramel I’ve added.”

“At that point I don’t even think that could legally be considered a drink,” Kageyama mused. Teru heard his phone buzz and his hand shot to his pocket.

Just a spam call.

He put his phone away again, trying to ignore how much he was shaking. God, why did he have to be so weird about this? It was just a phone call.

“Hanazawa-kun? Are you alright?” Kageyama asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, just waiting for a phone call,” Teru tried to say casually. Kageyama didn’t seem to believe him. Before he could press him, Teru spotted the barista putting their drinks on the counter.

“Oh! Our order’s ready!” Teru shouted before he could say anything, shouldering his way to the counter and swiping both their drinks, handing Kageyama his with a smile. To his dismay Kageyama still seemed concerned.

“What’s the phone call about? You seem kind of worried about it,” he said.

“Oh, nothing, just… uh…” Teru knew he couldn’t dodge the question a second time without making it seem more concerning than it actually was. It’s nothing, it’s not important, he shouldn’t be so anxious about it. “Uh, the last time my parents called me was on my birthday last year. So. I thought they might again, this year. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“...Since last year?” Kageyama said. Teru’s heart dropped. Why did he have to say it like that?

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty busy,” Teru said, “Hey, wanna go to the river? I saw ducklings there the other day.”

“Oh I, uh, yeah… sure-” Kageyama said.

“Great! Let’s go!” Teru ushered him towards the exit, hoping the conversation would die once they were outside.

–

“...I don’t know if they got a new phone number and didn’t tell me or just stopped checking their voicemail or what,” Teru said. The shining sun reflected off the water through the gaps in the shade of the cherry trees planted along its edge. He leaned on the railing, watching a mother duck coax her ducklings from the shore into the water. It was too nice a day for the conversation he was having.

Kageyama had barely said a word since he started talking, just…listened. It felt…nice? To be heard? To be understood? To not dedicate all his effort into throwing solutions and backup plans at a problem he didn’t know how to solve?

“I just. I feel like I should have moved on by now,” he said, “I haven’t even seen them in person since I was nine. I’ve adjusted to life without them. But…”

“It still hurts,” Kageyama mumbled gently, leaning against his arm. The two of them looked out over the water in silence for a moment. Teru could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he turned to look at him.

I guess we’re even now.

He cringed inwardly at the memory of how Kageyama’s face twisted at the comment. Why had he said that? To lighten the mood? Make himself feel less guilty? Maybe the medication they gave him at the hospital had made him delirious?

He was the first real friend he’d ever had and he felt like, with every word he said, every crossed line or potential misstep, he was closer to losing him.

How do you make someone stay?

–

“You think Reigen-san will be mad we’re late?” Teru asked.

“No, I think he’ll understand,” Kageyama said, looking away in a manner that suggested he was hiding something. Oh god, Reigen probably would be mad at them, wouldn’t he? He had gotten so caught up in talking that he didn’t notice the time. Teru noticed the blinds shut as they approached the building and froze.

“Hanazawa-kun?” Kageyama asked.

“Sorry, thought I saw something,” he said, eyes narrowed. It’s probably nothing. Maybe the sun was in their eyes or it got too bright.

As they stepped into the building Teru could feel his suspicions growing. He could see that the room was dark from the hallway. Why would Reigen turn the lights off? He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would just leave without them. Had something happened to him? Kageyama didn’t seem to notice anything was off, sauntering to the door.

“Wait!” Teru said as he reached for the handle. Kageyama looked up, puzzled. “Something feels off.”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked.

“The lights are off, and I saw the blinds close when we were outside,” Teru said, “I think someone might be trying to ambush us.”

It was difficult to read the expression that crossed Kageyama’s face as he spoke. He stared at him for a few seconds before responding.

“Well, if something’s in there, we can probably handle it, right?” he said. Teru forced a smile. He knew he meant well, but he didn’t like being humored like this. Kageyama turned the knob and opened the door. The office was dark save for the light pouring in from the hallways. Teru could detect other espers nearby, most of them significantly weaker than himself but-

“Surprise!”

As Kageyama flicked the lights on Reigen, Hoshino, Asashi, Kurosaki, the Shiratori brothers, and Mob’s little brother emerged from the dark. Kageyama turned to him with a fond smile.

“Happy birthday, Teru,” he said.

Teru stood, unable to think of how to react. Reigen motioned to the table by the couch in the corner where a chocolate cake sat adorned with candles.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted so I made an educated guess,” Reigen said.

Teru tried not to let on how strained his voice was when he spoke.

“It’s perfect.”

–

“So, afternoon next Saturday works?” he asked.

“Yep! Have a nice night, Hanazawa-kun,” Kageyama said.

Teru looked back at him and gave a small wave as he walked towards his apartment. The building was stiflingly quiet as he stepped in and turned on the lights. As he slipped out of his shoes he looked at the clock. 12 am. One full day of being fifteen.

He didn’t even glance at his phone before getting into bed.

#i planned this last year but never actually wrote it #also it was originally supposed to be a lot more light heared but i thought abt him too long and got sad #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #terukiweek2023 #teruki hanazawa #shigeo kageyama

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lavenoon · 1 year

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Can we have more hatchling AU plz?

Pain? You asked for pain? I come to deliver! <3

So the angst is canon - both boys get that moment where they just snap at the baby bird.

Dawn has had enough - and after the nth time that Robin tries to tag along for paperwork too, he asks them why rather harshly. And while their response didn't actually aim towards friendship, the immediate rejection gave them a good idea of what he thinks of them. Dawn leaves them easily, not quite thinking about the impact he left, only glad to finally have some peace and quiet. He does get that pang of not quite regret, but the thought "Maybe there would have been a better way to handle this"

Can't argue with the results however. They do lay off after that, acting much more subdued during missions. As impressive as it used to be that they actually seemed to be able to keep up with him, that performance is now slacking. Dawn is a good agent. So when he starts listening to the rumor mill, and pays attention to context clues, he knows it's not a general drop - only on missions they share with him. They're jumpy, hesitant, and their acting has become subpar, but only when he's around. That... That doesn't sit right with him. There's also the fact that he starts getting bored - Robin doesn't join as many missions, actively bowing out of shared missions offered to them, and he gets paired with other agents that don't know him or how he works. None of them stick around for a second time, so he has to work with someone new every time. It's familiar and frustrating, and he starts missing Robin's little quips and enthusiasm.

He's not sorry. That would imply he didn't mean what he said, and they aren't friends. But Robin gets little gifts in their office's pigeonhole, cereal bars and water bottles, and while their decision to have Dawn for a rival somewhat isolated them from other field agents, they do ask around and figure out that he hasn't been making any friends. Even snappier than usual, they hear - how did they stand it for so long? Well, he's not too bad usually... He just really can't stand them, so...

But then, after about two to three weeks (don't quote me on that, I may change my mind, but it works for now) they just hear their code name called out to them on the way to their office, and when they turn Dawn is just approaching them with... well, the best pokerface they've ever seen. No reading that expression.

"I see you're well."

"Uhh."

It's awkward, the silence that follows. They have no clue what he wants - and he's a proud idiot who can't articulate it either. They both fumble, and Dawn tries to take control of the conversation, "subtly" asking if the cereal bars were to their liking. That was him? Yes, obviously it was him - he knows about their atrocious self care habits! Completely ignoring his initial question, they now crack half a smile, as confused as it is. Did he... Did he feel bad?

Dawn flinches, and looks away, and they know they hit gold where they never would have expected it. Getting the words out of his voicebox feels like pulling teeth, but he forces them out.

"I may have... reacted rather harshly. While I stand by the content of what I said, there were better ways to establish that, and it wasn't relevant to our conversation at all. We don't need to be friends to work with each other, and... And you are the one agent at this location who actually seems to understand how I work, even if I can't claim the opposite yet. I would like to, with time, if you're willing."

It's not really an apology, but Robin sees him, stiff and uncomfortable, admitting to his own faults, and they have to bite back a grin. So he's scary, alright, and ruthless, yeah, but also kind of... Kind of an idiot, huh?

"... I'll be annoying."

"I'm aware."

"And you won't mind?"

"... Less than the alternative."

They snort at the honesty, even more so as it comes hesitantly. They grin, then.

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you? I'll take the next one. Just know that you chose this."

Dawn sighs, eternally suffering, and Robin chokes on another laugh. It's easy to swallow when his next words are quiet, barely audible, and something he never said to them that genuinely before.

"Thank you."

They aren't friends, Robin knows. But maybe they can be. They already made the big scary star agent admit he works best with them - surely everything else is possible too <3

(The initial conversation also is what made them cry enough for Moon to notice later that day - and something that Dawn will thus regret all over again) (Dawn starts calling them "little thief" soon after, as they stuck with the "Sunshine" for him, and it's only another step in the right direction)

Dusk technically has even less tact, and snaps at them in the middle of a mission. They just almost walked into the path of a camera again, distracted by their own energy, and he's had enough. At the very least he has the sense to immediately regret it - but the words are already out, and Robin is already withdrawing. "I'll focus," they say, and they do, and Dusk tries hard not to feel bad about the suffocating silence following those two words.

He certainly feels very bad when the next time he moves his hand near them, they flinch back. Eyes wide and trained on his fingers, even without the claws and electricity dancing between them. Oh no. He was angry, yes, and maybe upped the intimidation factor, but he didn't actually want them afraid of him.

Because while he figured that they simply don't take anything seriously, including him, Robin was being lighthearted despite the respect they have for him. They aren't as oblivious as he thinks they are (they're oblivious in different, exciting ways), and to them that little intimidation display was not the attempt of a senior agent struggling to be taken seriously, but rather a senior agent they admire all but declaring his willingness to hurt them.

Dusk done fucked up.

Robin stops "hijacking" his missions, and Dusk starts making mistakes. Because he wasn't the only one interfering to prevent mistakes, they covered his back as much as he covered theirs. And seeing them actively dodge him in the hallways of HQ just stings, even without the reprimands towards himself ghosting around in his head. He needs to fix this.

He's not as much of a mother hen as Sun, but he does know a thing or two about taking care of others still. He also has the advantage that he isn't quite as much of a peacock as Dawn, and opts for the direct approach. His pride hates being scary to the nice if reckless new agent more than apologizing. He doesn't take as long as Dawn either, and approaches them after just a few days.

Robin still jumps when he's suddenly there, but his hands are hidden behind his back and he's standing there almost hunched. They wait, silent, for him to speak - and he does, with a grimace. Still similar to his counterpart, this next bit grates.

"I'm... sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to do that - I didn't... I didn't realize."

Well, cheers, he managed the apology - as much as it sucks. Robin scoffs, not impressed either.

"What, didn't realize that someone three heads taller with sharp teeth and literal tasers for claws wouldn't be my favorite company when angry? Shocker."

Now it's his turn to flinch, but reaching out still forces them a step back, so he pulls his hands back. Fidgets with them, a nervous habit he knows he shouldn't indulge, Sun already does that more than enough.

"I underestimated you, on multiple accounts. And I guess... I got used to you not being afraid. Everyone else is."

His fingers creak then, and when Robin glances at his hands, he hides them behind his back again. It makes them think - and well... They know what the other agents think of Dusk, always reacting with disbelief when they mention joining him for missions, and rather unwilling to discuss him as if he has eyes everywhere. The others are afraid.

But the agent in front of them right now? Is... kind of a dork, who hides his hands because he thinks they're scared of every little movement, and he's kind of weird about eye contact too, as if even his normal eyes would scare them, and they are pretty sure they've never seen him without the sharp teeth before, either.

He's trying. He's just kind of stupid about it. They sigh, and decide to offer an olive branch.

"Fine, Mr. Sandman, apology accepted. You can stop looking like the strangest kicked puppy I've ever seen now."

"... Mr. Sandman?"

He looks at them, somewhat hesitant - that won't do. They exaggerate a shrug.

"What, would you prefer Moon man?"

"No."

"Neat. You're getting that, then."

He smiles then, somewhat slowly, but it morphs into a grin easily. It's new, still, but it's nice, and he can't help but try it out.

"Chirp chirp chirp, the little robin sings again."

"... Hood. Robin Hood."

They squint at his grin, and sharp teeth click back into place. They aren't scared.

Dusk straightens, and then moves to walk past them. It's sudden, and they don't quite process it until his hand is already on their head and removing the little hair tie. They gasp, offended, and he twirls it on his finger when they turn.

"Give that back!"

"Next mission, little bird. Try to get it back."

He whistles as he leaves, and Robin has the sudden urge to strangle someone 1) who's neck they can barely reach and 2) who doesn't need to breathe. But he invited them - well, he better not complain then. If he insists on the bird names, well, they'll be a canary - he'll regret ever asking them to be loud again.

(He won't regret it. After this, Dusk is well aware why it's bad news when a canary stops singing - and he'd rather not have a scare like that again. They aren't quite comfortable after this, at best comparable to early rivalry senior agent Robin and rookie Dusk, but they're getting there, and both are too stubborn to work with anyone else. Works out for them, after all)

#answer let luce #anonymous #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #hatchling au #my art #I kinda. I kinda thought I'd talk about more than just these two scenes but uh. oops?#1.7K words whoopsie #the other doodles are more general dynamic vibes *before* these scares #slightly more forgiving Dawn/ Dusk after the scares; as they know the alternative is worse #... even if Robin still likes to test their patience #nerves of steel they may have but Robin is a very determined hack saw and proud of it #they're the only one who can annoy the star agent and get away with it <3

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roonilwazlibimagines · 2 years

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the bet ch.4 - r.b x female reader

Blurb: the office holds a friendly game of quidditch, well, an intended friendly game of quidditch

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: my milkshake wasn't that good :( i'm tired so next update will be tomorrow probably around this same time Warnings - regulus and evan are a little misogynistic and by a little i mean a lot, sex is heavily referenced, head injury and mention of feeling like throwing up. also lots of swearing

Masterlist | ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8 | ch.9 | ch.10 | FINISHED

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

On Wednesday they had their weekly meeting held in the breakroom considering that was the only room big enough to hold everyone in.

Regulus had taken the risk of sitting next to her and he tried not to take it personally when she moved her chair away from him ever so slightly.

“I have great news,” their boss started with, as she walked in and went to the front of the room. “It has come to my attention that we haven’t done a group bonding activity since our new arrival.” Her hand waved over in her direction and Regulus could practically feel her stiffen. “So, on Friday we will be having a friendly game of Quidditch.” She clapped her hands in front of her. “Indoors, of course, it’s fucking freezing.”

Regulus wasn't sure how, but he felt her go even more stiff. Probably at the language of their boss, no doubt. Regulus wasn’t a prude, or at least not as much of a prude as he thought she was, but even he was shocked by their boss's language when he first started.

“I’ve already organised teams because I don’t want Regulus and Evan on the same team.” Evan was sitting behind her and she felt his arm brush on her shoulder as he brought it forward to high five Regulus. She tried not to shudder away.

She was going to be on a team with Evan and the safety manager and it would be them against their boss, Regulus, and Louie. They would only have a seeker, chaser and keeper per team as it was only a friendly competition and therefore no need for a beater.

“I will give you tomorrow afternoon to organise your game plan, but until then you have to focus on work.” There was still no new potion request, so her and Regulus were stuck trying to think of a new idea.

“So, are you ready to lose on Friday?” Regulus asked when they were back in the breakroom for lunch.

“Sorry Reggie, we have the old Slytherin Quidditch Captain on our team, the one who declined an offer from the Chudley Cannons because she was way too good for them.” He put an arm around her shoulders as he sat down next to her and she shrugged it off.

Regulus was starting to appreciate her attitude. Maybe he thought she was uptight and bossy during school, but now he admired how she stood her ground and never let people make her feel uncomfortable. It was sometimes, even funny. Especially when it was his friend on the receiving end of it.

“And when was the last time this amazing Quidditch star actually played Quidditch?” Regulus didn’t know the answer, but from the context clues of their previous conversations, he was feeling confident that it wasn’t since Hogwarts, almost three years ago.

“Irrelevant,” she said in a way that made the edges of Regulus’ lips quirk up, “when you’re that good, the skill never leaves.” Evan was sitting beside her so she didn’t see the way he widened his eyes at Regulus who was sitting across from them.

But it seemed even Evan had come to appreciate her directness in this post school life because it was a look that was a mix of being amused and impressed.

“Look, I love you Reggie,” Evan began, “but I’d take her on my team over you any day.” Apparently, though, Evan hadn’t learnt his lesson because he threw another arm over her shoulders, only to have it pushed off once more.

She gave him an innocent look and Regulus took this as progress. Even if it was completely self centred, it seemed like she was actually joking around with them which meant that they were getting closer to friends which meant that Regulus was getting closer to being five hundred galleons richer.

This was going into their third week of the bet. Regulus barely had two months left and he felt like he hadn’t made much progress, but he had to remind himself who this was and that really, even getting to this stage where they could hold a conversation was a feat of itself.

And really, Regulus was learning that she wasn’t even that bad. There was still something wound up extremely tight inside of her, but there were occasions where whatever it was started to loosen and she seemed like a normal human when that happened.

Then, of course, there was the fact that she was very pretty which Regulus was really starting to appreciate. Especially on Friday morning when she arrived at the indoor stadium in a pair of leggings that were basically a second skin on her as well as a tight long sleeved top that made Regulus’ eyes wander.

Evan whistled in Regulus’ ear when she showed up and Regulus nudged him with his elbow.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

Regulus wondered if she knew she was hot. Surely she did. But she didn’t seem arrogant about it in the way that he’d expect someone who looked like that to be.

But he pushed that thought aside because for some reason, she was walking over to them.

“Good morning,” she said, “Evan.” She nodded towards the boy who had his arm rested on Regulus’ shoulder, making no effort to hide the way his eyes looked her up and down. “Regulus,” she said, “are you ready to lose?”

Regulus let out an unattractive laugh.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Shame you won’t be in your usual position,” she said in a way that made it sound like she really didn’t think it was a shame.

“I’m assuming you’ll be keeper then?”

“Of course,” she said. The first thing she had said on Thursday afternoon was that there was no way she wouldn’t be her usual position. “What are you playing?”

“Chaser.”

“Interesting.” She wanted to say that he was never good at being Chaser, but she wanted to say it in a way that would sound like a joke and considering their history, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to control that tone.

“Alright teams,” their boss walked over to them, “are we ready?”

Everyone mumbled out a yes and made their way into a circle.

“Okay, so one of the coaches will referee and please,” she said, looking individually at them all, “this is a friendly competition.” She gave an extra glance to Regulus and Evan who gave her a faux innocent look.

The referee came over, a young girl who they found out volunteered at the indoor stadium, and she went over safety. They had basic healing and pain relief potions and she knew some basic healing spells, but this was a friendly game and a friendly environment and they hadn’t had to use it all year so it was all mainly precautionary.

“Do you mind just signing this?” She asked the boss, handing over a quill and some parchment.

“Sure,” the boss said. There seemed to be quite a few pages to fill out so she turned to them all and said, “why don’t you all get warmed up while I do this?”

They didn’t have to be told twice and so the referee released the balls and they all zoomed up into the air on the broomsticks the indoor stadium had provided.

She wasn’t really sure what the plan was for ‘warm ups’. She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be like what she used to make her team do before games back in Hogwarts.

Regulus had the quaffle and Evan was flying close by to him, the safety manager coming closer to her and she smiled at her as she approached.

“Have you played Quidditch before?” The safety manager asked as she hovered next to her.

“I have,” she said, “I was Quidditch Captain.” She let out a noise of surprise.

“Wow,” the safety manager said, “I’ve never played competitively.”

In the back of her mind, she could hear Regulus and Evan messing around, throwing the quaffle around and zooming between the two girls talking, as well as Louie who was hovering on the other side of the indoor field near the goals.

“Do you watch it?” She asked the safety manager, but she never heard her reply.

As the safety manager opened her mouth, she heard Evan shout heads up as he zoomed past the two girls and then she heard the sound of the quaffle whizzing past before she heard the sound of the wind rushing past her ears as she began to fall.

Regulus wasn’t sure whether the scream came from her or from him. On instinct, he raced down to the floor where their boss had dropped the parchment and had her wand pointed to the girl now falling slowly from her broom.

She landed gracefully thanks to the boss’ quick reflexes, but she still let out a groan when she got to the ground, sitting on the floor, seemingly unable to stand up.

The bastard had hit her in the face with a quaffle.

“Ow,” she moaned, bringing a hand to her head. Everything was spinning and even though she knew the pain was in her head, it felt like her whole body had seized up.

“Shit, fuck,” Regulus swore as he got off his broomstick and knelt next to her. “Are you okay?”

“What do you think?” Regulus thought she must be okay if she was still able to sass him. The referee had come back with a potion and was making her drink it.

She had a swollen lip but the referee cast a spell and it went back to normal, even though she grimaced as she did it.

She wanted to cry. Merlin, she was in so much pain. But she already felt embarrassed by falling off her broom after getting hit in the face with a quaffle and she didn’t want to make it worse.

“Everything hurts,” she whimpered instead, and although his heart was already thumping in his chest, he felt it start to haywire. Wasn’t the potion meant to make it better?

Regulus was a beater, meaning he was pretty confident in the power of his throws and he definitely wasn’t holding back when he was throwing it to Evan. If anything, he was probably using all of his power to make it harder for his friend to catch, but she wasn’t meant to be in the way of that.

“Look at me,” their boss said, still somehow remaining calm even after Regulus had just seriously injured her. Everyone was crowding around her on the floor. Everyone else had come down from their brooms and were standing close trying to see what was going on while still trying to give her some space. “Follow my finger darling.” He watched as the boss moved her finger up and down and his eyes flickered back and forth, hoping that her eyes were following.

“That’s a good sign,” the referee said and Regulus wished he’d be able to let out a breath of relief, but there was guilt still knotted in his chest and he wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

“I think she should still go to St Mungo’s.”

“I’ll take her,” Regulus said instinctively. He was sure he heard her mumble out a no, but it was drained out by the boss's voice.

“Merlin Regulus, first the potion blows up in her face and now this? I don’t know if I should trust you.” She was joking, but as they tried to help her stand up, the boss still pushed her to Regulus. She was closing her eyes and Regulus didn’t know a lot about medicine and injuries, but he wasn’t sure that was a good sign.

She was resting most of her weight on him and he put an arm around her as the boss and referee let go of her.

“Be careful when you apparate,” the referee said, “she’ll probably be sick when you get there.”

She let out a groan in Regulus’ arms and Regulus gave them a curt nod before he apparated to St Mungos.

“Fuck, I’m going to be sick.” Were the first words she said when they got there. Her eyes were still closed and she doubled over causing Regulus to go with her.

“C’mon, you’re okay.” He tried to use a soothing voice, hoping the words of encouragement would help her as he guided her to stand back up.

Her eyes opened.

“You don’t get to tell me I’m okay after you hit me in the face with a quaffle.” So maybe he didn’t help her, but maybe he had distracted her because she didn’t say anything else about being sick.

She went back to leaning on him almost instantly, her eyes closing once more as another groan left her lips.

St Mungos was busy. There were healers and nurses moving around in a hurry and patients, moaning in pain and hobbling around. The main area was always busy and apparently today wasn’t an exception.

Regulus moved her over to the counter. There were three people in front of them and with the way she was holding her head, Regulus was scared that the wait would be too long. Eventually, they got to the desk and one of the nurses gave him a bright smile.

“How can we help you today, sir?” The nurse gave her a weary look but then went back to smiling at Regulus.

“She got hit in the face with a quaffle.”

“Oh no.” Wow, Regulus thought, really helpful. “Has she taken anything?” The nurse was getting some parchment and a quill and Regulus quickly recalled what the referee had done.

“She had a swollen lip but they got rid of that and she took a pain relief potion.”

“But I haven’t felt relief,” she mumbled.

“But she hasn’t felt relief,” Regulus echoed so the nurse could hear.

“Alright,” the nurse said looking up from his parchment, “I’ll get you to look up here for me and follow my quill.” Regulus looked down to see her with her eyes open, trying to stand up straighter.

She followed the quill with her eyes and the nurse must have been satisfied with that because he hummed and ticked something on the form.

“Wonderful,” he said, “we’ll get you to go sit over there and wait if that’s okay, a healer will be with you shortly.”

“How long is shortly?” Regulus asked, recalling the horror stories of people waiting half a day in St Mungos before they were actually helped.

“We’re very busy today sir, unfortunately, I can’t give you an exact time.”

“She has a head injury,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m aware,” the nurse said a little too indignantly, “but there are a lot of patients here with a lot of needs and unfortunately we can only do what we can.”

“She can barely stand up,” he said, losing his patience.

She couldn’t. He was right. She was also only half conscious considering the amount of pain she was in and considering the pain relief potion had done nothing.

Her face was numb and it seemed the rest of her body had followed suit because she was very aware that Regulus was basically holding her up.

She was also very aware of the tone Regulus was using. There was a small vein on his neck that she could see when she looked up at him from how she was resting her head on him.

Maybe she was delirious from all the pain, or maybe she had just been really spoilt her whole life and liked people doing things for her, but seeing Regulus argue with this nurse about getting her a healer made her tummy feel funny in a way that she knew wasn’t because she had just gotten hit in the face with a quaffle.

She came back from her train of thought when the nurse said, “the best I can do is offer her a stronger pain relief potion.” She hummed in agreement before Regulus could reply.

“Thank you,” Regulus said, but his tone didn’t sound too grateful.

Regulus guided her over to the waiting area and just as she sat down the nurse came with the potion and she drank it quickly.

She barely recalled drinking the other potion, but she thought she’d never forget the foul taste of this one. It was what she imagined a dead body would smell like, but she pushed that thought to the back of her head as she finally felt some relief.

She could still feel a second pulse thumping through her head, but she felt strong enough to open her eyes and lift her head away from Regulus, so it was progress at least.

“Did that help?” Regulus asked once the nurse had left.

“A little,” she mumbled and Regulus nodded. His leg was bouncing now that she wasn’t leaning on him and he was biting his lip anxiously.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, turning to look at her, “I didn’t-”

“You were never good at being chaser,” she cut him off. He looked at her with his mouth open and she continued. “I was going to tell you this morning, but I didn’t want to be mean.” She was talking softly and Regulus wasn’t sure whether or not he was meant to laugh.

He’d been trying to laugh with her all week, but he wasn’t sure this was an appropriate time.

“When have you ever stopped yourself from being mean?” She shrugged her shoulders, wondering if the potion the nurse had given her was making her loopy because she regretted saying that.

“Obviously you have no self control when it comes to being mean,” she said accusingly. Both of them were staring at the other and she saw the way Regulus’ eyebrows quickly furrowed together in confusion. “First the potion and now this.”

“Both of them were an accident,” he was almost pleading with her and for some reason she giggled.

“I don’t believe you.” He gave her a pointed look. His eyebrows raised and his forehead creased and for some reason, she giggled again.

Yeah, that potion was definitely making her feel loopy.

She rested her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes. It was much easier than looking at Regulus, it made the knot in her tummy come undone.

“I don’t think you should close your eyes.” She heard him whisper and she slowly opened them, looking up at him. He had brought his face slightly closer to hers and for some reason, her heart started beating the tiniest bit quicker.

“Why not?” She pouted, whispering back.

“I’m not sure,” Regulus admitted, still keeping his voice low, “I feel like I’ve read somewhere that you shouldn’t.”

She didn’t know what to say so she did what he told her to do and she kept her eyes open, looking into Regulus’ grey ones.

He kept looking back.

Regulus had been swearing ever since he saw Evan move at the last second and tried to follow him, knowing it was a bad throw as soon as the quaffle left his hands.

This was ending his third week into the bet and it wasn’t a good way to end it. Hitting her in the face with a quaffle.

“You can go home if you want,” she whispered. She seemed drowsy and Regulus genuinely did feel bad so the least he could do was stay here until a healer came to see her.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, thinking that if she said yes, he’d have a hard time leaving her. He may be arrogant, but his mother did raise him with some manners and he knew his mother would be mortified if she found out he left someone he had injured by themselves, especially when they had her last name.

She blinked up at him quickly. Weirdly enough, she didn’t.

She already had her suspicions that the potion was making her loopy but this was all the confirmation she needed. She would never want to spend more time with Regulus Black, this was the potion speaking.

“No,” she mumbled it so quietly that Regulus wasn’t sure he’d even hear her if he didn’t see the way her lips moved.

“I wouldn’t have left you,” he found himself saying, “I was the one who injured you.” He paused, “And I am really sorry.”

She was looking up at him and Regulus couldn’t believe he had known her for almost ten years and had never noticed how pretty her eyes were. She was blinking slowly and Regulus was sure the guilt was getting to him because he was ready to do anything to get rid of the pain etched on her face.

“I can’t feel my face,” she admitted, finally lifting her head up and repositioning herself. Regulus pulled his head away from her and sighed. “If you had done this when I was captain I would have kicked you off the team.”

“Would you really?” He asked, the start of a chuckle already forming on his lips.

She hummed.

“If you hit the captain in the face with a quaffle?” She asked incredulously. “Yes,” she scoffed, “firstly, you were beater so what were you doing with a quaffle in the first place? And secondly,” she paused, suddenly not as confident as she was mere seconds ago, “I would have thought you did it on purpose.” Regulus couldn’t help the way his lips curved up.

“Well you thought I blew the potion up in your face on purpose.”

“And I still kinda think you did this on purpose too,” she cocked her head to the side as she looked at him and he frowned.

“I didn’t,” he said and she sighed.

“The only reason I believe you is because I don’t think you’d purposely injure me in front of the boss.” She paused. “Unless you’re just really good at faking accidents.” He laughed, he couldn’t help it.

“If I wanted to make it look like an accident I would have done it during the game.”

“Good to know,” she scoffed, but she was smiling. And Regulus was smiling. And for a brief second, he forgot about the five hundred galleons.

“Well anyway,” he said, “if you kicked me off the team then you’d miss your best beater.” She scoffed.

“I don’t know, Knott was a pretty good beater.” She pretended to think about it.

“But my replacement wouldn’t have been that good.”

“You doubt my coaching abilities, there was only one reason you were such a good beater.”

“What?” He asked, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Because of you?”

“Yes, because of your amazing captain.” He shook his head.

Had it always been this easy to have a conversation with her? Upon reflection, Regulus didn’t think he had ever tried to have a conversation with her bar the small talk they’d been making since she started. And it brought up a funny feeling when he considered that he never would have tried to have a conversation with her if it wasn’t for this bet.

“Amazing is a strong word,” he trailed off and she scoffed.

“Sorry, how many years did we win the Quidditch cup while we were at school?”

“Three,” he said sheepishly, knowing where this was going.

“And who was captain during those three years?”

“Irrelevant,” he said, “you just had a good team.” She opened her mouth at him in mock surprise, the ache that was once clouding her thoughts, now starting to disappear.

“If I hadn’t just suffered a head injury, I’d argue with you but we both know I’m right so it’s pointless.”

Regulus laughed again. He didn’t think he’d ever laughed this much with her. Ever.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the people around them groan in pain and chat with their loved ones.

She had her arms folded across her chest and Regulus hated it but he was once more reminded about the clothes she was wearing and for a moment, he couldn’t look away.

For some reason, he was starting to feel guilt, and not just because he had hit her in the face with a quaffle.

“Do you think they’re still playing Quidditch?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Yeah, winning a friendly game of Quidditch is much more important than your wellbeing,” he said in a serious tone before giving her a pointed look that made it clear he was being sarcastic.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t be mean to me, you just hit me in the face with a quaffle.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No, the potion the nurse gave me was much stronger than the one the referee did. I still have a bit of a headache, but I can feel my face now.”

“That’s good,” he said.

He was suddenly back to bouncing his knee and biting his lip. He started thrumming his fingers on his thigh. She was still looking at him but he had to look away.

He wasn’t sure why, but his heart was beating fast and he was hoping that even if hitting her in the face with a quaffle set him back, this conversation they were having was making up for it.

Regulus thought they’d be waiting here much longer, but after about an hour of them going back and forth like that, a healer finally called for her and for some reason, Regulus stood up with her.

She gave him a funny look, but didn’t say anything.

Her parents had spoiled her for her entire life and she hadn’t done anything like this by herself and that was the only reason she wanted him there with her.

“So,” the healer said as they all sat down, “what happened?” The healer was an older woman with a kind smile, and it made her feel better and not as scared.

She explained how she got hit in the head with a quaffle and that the referee had done a spell on her lip and made her drink a potion that did absolutely nothing, and then how she came here and drank another potion that had seemed to make the pain go away, but still left a pounding headache.

The healer put on some gloves and told her she was going to take a look at her lip.

“It seemed she got the swelling down, but it seems some of your capillaries have broken so there will be some bruising.” The gloves were cold on her lip as she pulled her bottom lip down with her thumb and then squished them together before stepping away and taking off her gloves.

Regulus felt like he had to turn away. It didn’t feel right to watch.

“And you still have a headache?” The healer asked, writing something down on the same piece of parchment the nurse had originally filled out.

“Yeah,” she nodded, swaying her legs ever so slightly over the chair.

“The nurse said you didn’t have a concussion, and I don’t think you do either, but I’ll do a spell to make sure there is no lasting damage. We are currently trialling a potion at the moment to target general symptoms of various diseases and illnesses,” her head twitched towards Regulus, “you are by no means required to, but that is an option we can test. If you’d like some more information, I have this.” The healer handed her a pamphlet and she turned to Regulus who was already looking at her, a small smile on his lips.

“Sure,” she said, a little too enthusiastically. The healer nodded and handed her the potion.

“We’ll have to send you away with some paperwork so we can understand just how effective this potion is and we ask that you don’t take any general relief potions unless absolutely necessary so we can understand the full impact of this new potion.” She nodded and let the doctor perform the spell that made it feel like there was a warm liquid trickling down her head.

She shivered, the potion her and Regulus had created two weeks ago warm in her palm as they said goodbye to the healer and left her office.

“I honestly thought I’d given you a concussion, I’m glad it wasn’t,” Regulus said as they walked back into the general area.

“Honestly, me too,” she said, a small smile on her lips contrasting the topic of their conversation. “But I get to trial our potion.” Regulus had never seen her so excited and he couldn’t help but smile with her.

“Hope we did a good job.” She almost corrected him and said that it was really all of his doing, but she really couldn’t be bothered to argue about it with him, so she let it go.

“Thanks for staying with me,” she said and Regulus wasn’t sure he had ever seen her look so sheepish. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen her be anything but her confident self. “I really appreciate it.”

“Well I was the one who caused it.” He said as they stopped walking and turned to the other. She gave him a small smile and a brief nod.

It was close to lunch time, but she didn’t think her boss would mind if she went home. Besides, the game was only meant to go half a day, and then they’d have lunch and be free to go.

But just to be safe, she’d send her an owl as soon as she got him.

“Well, enjoy your weekend.” She said and Regulus furrowed his eyebrows together ever so slightly.

“I’m not letting you apparate home.”

“Why not?”

“You just got hit in the face with a quaffle.”

“The healer said I was fine.”

Regulus wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure why he was so set on apparating her home, but he knew he had to. It was the right thing to do.

“Just let me do it, it will make me feel better.”

“Well,” she said sarcastically, “if it makes you feel better.” He gave her a cheeky grin.

“Yeah,” he said, “it would.” She rolled her eyes at him, the parchment and trial in her hands. “Tell me a place near your house so I can apparate there.” She told him a popular landmark and took a step closer to him. He put out his hand and she held onto his arm.

She hadn’t noticed when they got there because all she could focus on was the pain, but this time, she realised that she hated apparating with someone else. It was so awkward.

The launching feeling always made her body tense, but now with Regulus next to her it seemed it was her body's natural instinct to cling onto him and she hated how she practically jumped off of him once they got there.

She huffed, moving on the spot to try to get rid of the nausea she was currently feeling. She wasn’t going to tell him, but she was glad Regulus had offered to apparate her home.

“How far away is your house?” He asked.

“About a five minute walk.” He nodded and started walking.

“Are you coming?” He asked, stopping and turning around when he didn’t feel her presence behind him. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to walk her home, but they had already made it this far together, so they might as well get to the end.

Regulus was also glad that he had apparated her home. He wasn’t really focused on it when they apparated to St Mungos because he was sure he was going to faint from the guilt, but this time, she grabbed onto him and Regulus could feel her body pressed against his and he could smell her shampoo and he was glad to feel the cool air on his skin when they finally got there.

She walked quickly to catch up with him and there was only a brief flash of guilt that entered Regulus’ mind when he happily watched the way her body moved as she quickly came next to him.

“I’m really sorry, again,” he said, mainly just to have something to say. And he was actually sorry.

“It’s okay,” she said and he realised that this was the first time she had accepted his apology. “But I’ll probably never let you live it down.” She shrugged her shoulders casually and he smiled.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

If he was being honest, he expected more. This was the ice queen after all. The one who had put Evan in detention for a week because he kept coming to Quidditch practice to cheer everyone on.

“He’s a distraction!” She had argued, and Professor Slughorn was not going to be the first professor to not let her get her way.

But maybe he had reached his goal. Maybe this is what being friendly with her was like. He assumed it was, at least.

He hoped it was. That would mean that he had achieved his goal. Much earlier than he had intended. Who knew all he had to do was hit her in the face with a quaffle.

The thought briefly entered his mind that if he knew that’s all it would take, he would have done it earlier, but then he decided that that was mean and he didn’t necessarily feel like being mean to her anymore. Not to her face and not behind her back.

Regulus thought this was fine. It would make getting into her pants much easier and much more enjoyable for him.

“Well, enjoy meeting up with your friends,” he said when they got to her house.

“Thanks, and thanks for staying with me again. Have a good weekend.” She gave him one more smile before he apparated home.

For a minute, he thought this was too easy, all he had to do to get in her pants was be nice to her. Regulus had done a lot harder things in order to get in a girl's pants before. This was going to be easy.

#regulus black #regulus black blurb #regulus black imagine #regulus black angst #harry potter #harry potter blurb #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders blurb #marauders angst #rb #rbi #rba

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tklpilled · 2 years

Text

free and young

(jon, tim)

summary: jon refuses to let go of his stoic persona, even on his birthday. tim takes matters into his own hands.

a/n: my motivation is gradually running out but it’s at least longer than some others. for ‘surprise’! for context, this takes place after the recording of jon’s surprise party found in early s5.

[this is a sfw tickle fic!]

See, Tim knows that Jon naturally always seems like he wouldn’t know fun if it slapped him in the face. But, being Jon’s friend before the archives, he knows that it wasn’t always this bad. He knows Jon’s only putting on a persona, he’s just not sure why.

He hopes that, with his friends and enough wine, Jon would be willing to crawl out of his shell a bit more. Which—Jon’s certainly more talkative than usual, but he still manages to keep his composure throughout it all. Tim’s disappointed when Jon goes back to his office for all of a few seconds before he remembers that the door is unlocked.

“Boss!” cries Tim as he stumbles in, hurrying over to the desk and slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

Jon sighs. “What do you want.”

See what he means? “I’ve been thinking,” Tim announces as he takes his arm back in favour of resting his elbow on the desk, shoving papers aside to make room. “You’re too uptight.”

Jon quirks an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well, y’know,” Tim says, “you’re always acting like you’ve got a stick up your ass. And as your best friend,” he ignores Jon’s skeptical look, “I think you should let loose a little!”

Jon turns back to his desk. “Why should I do that?”

“You’ve got a fun side to you, believe it or not,” says Tim, prodding Jon’s chest. “I’ve seen it.”

“I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.”

Ah, so Jon is going to be difficult. That’s alright. Tim’s dealt with him before, after all.

And, see, one of the many things Tim’s learned about him is that it’s actually quite easy to get Jon to open up; in theory, at least, because it only works when Jon is in a good mood—by his standards, of course.

So, at Jon’s refusal, Tim does the only thing that comes to mind: he reaches out and scribbles his fingers on Jon’s stomach.

The reaction is immediate. Jon jerks backwards as he starts to laugh, not having enough preparation to be able to pretend it doesn’t affect him.

“T-ihim!” he gasps, choked out in between uncharacteristic giggles.

“This is your own fault,” says Tim, pinching Jon’s lower ribs. “Better keep it down, you don’t want Martin knowing how ticklish you are, do you?”

#my fics #arty writes #tickle fic #tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #tim stoker #lee!jon #ler!tim #jontim #augtickletober2022

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fightingthetides · 1 year

Note

∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out . // ummmmmmm

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||

A bit earlier than planned, but Ravein returned from a mission he’d been out on for a while. He’d been away for about a month, and he knew from communications that his buddies had also been off on missions of their own. He could feel the tension in the air, but the moment he stepped into base, all the hushed mutterings came to an abrupt start.

Not a pleasant way to be greeted as one could imagine. Unnerved, he starts looking around, attempting to find any context clues for him to go off of. He recognizes one person in the crowd, who stopped like a deer in headlights. If his memory serves him right, he had been on a mission with Haru last.

Making a direct bee-line for the man, who was actively trying to avoid him while also acting nonchalant (spoiler alert: it only made things all the more suspicious). Through the twisting hallways, the silent assassin notices the state that some of the hallways were in. In the back of his mind, he’s curious about who started a fight this time.

Ravein finally manages to corner the guy. Wordlessly, he stared at the man, not relenting until the man finally gives up. If there was one thing anyone knew about Ravein, was that he was stubborn and patient.

He had no qualms about following someone until they gave into his silent demands. “Alright! I give! She’s in confinement right now.”

A small head tilt in confusion. Haru had a temper and an attitude to match, but she was obedient compared to officers within the Varia who did as they pleased. The man hesitated for a few more seconds, “that friend of yours. Luca, you didn’t hear what happened to him yet… did you?”

The look of confusion and worry was all the other needed to see, “He was killed in action and the perps sent his body to base not long ago. She was the first one to see it.” As one could imagine, Haru would’ve gone insane from anger alone. Wanting vengeance was just another facet of her breadkdown.

He finally realizes that the reason the hallways were in such a state was because Haru would’ve put up a fight if others tried to stop her from going after the perps who killed Luca. She’d always joked that if anything ever happened to them, she’d hunt down the perps and then tunnel down to Hell herself to drag them back to Earth.

“When?”

“Huh? O-oh” it was rare for Ravein to speak with his actual voice, so he was taken aback, “Yesterday, we found out.” They were discussing how to keep this a secret from Ravein until the situation calmed itself. Ideally, he would’ve been away for at least another week. Alas, he efficiently finished his mission early, so they didn’t have the chance to hide the news from him.

The reticent assassin nods his head and walks away. He was surprisingly quite calm and collected about the news. It was like business as usual, where he went to his room, wrote up his report, and did whatever he normally does, read or work out alone.

When asked how he was holding up after losing his friend, he would shake his head and shrug his shoulders in response. Everyone else took that to mean, ‘it’s unfortunate, but that’s just how it is in the Varia. People die eventually.’ As it turned out, they didn’t have to worry about him—or so they thought.

When night fell, he snuck into the confinement room that Haru was kept in to force her to ‘cool her head,’ and he broke her out. Together, they left the base in search of the bastards that killed Luca. If Haru was the sort to express her emotions vocally and physically, Ravein was the sort who preferred to internalize everything and ‘speak’ through action. While working on his report, he had gone to research what mission Luca was on, and devise his plan of breaking Haru out and bringing her with him.

In retrospect, it was better that Haru had been the one that was confined first, as Ravein had the sense to break her out so they could go together. If he were the one to have found out first, he would’ve gone off the handle immediately like Haru had done.

After all, two assassins on the job is better than just one whose mind was clouded by anger and pain.

She’d never forgive him if he came back after getting revenge while leaving her behind. A few hours after the break in, an alarm that Haru had escaped her confinement cell was sounded off. It didn’t take long to realize that Ravein was missing as well.

No one was sent to go after the two because they knew full well that neither Haru or Ravein would hesitate to attack whoever got in their way. Haru, at the very least would attack to incapacitate, while Ravein wouldn’t hesitate to kill if it meant it could save a few precious seconds.

The Varia had already lost Luca, so they couldn’t afford to lose any more just to bring back two officers throwing a tantrum. “What kind of present do you think Luca would like? A hand? Maybe an ear? Hmm… maybe an eye is good.” Haru was thinking aloud as they were travelling according to the path Ravein had set for them.

It took a period of a week of them hunting and maiming anyone Ravein thought could’ve been the perpetrator behind killing Luca. Perhaps a few innocent lives were taken, but neither of them were willing to take any chances of letting the killer go scot-free. In their path a bloody trail of carnage, with some missing body parts as Haru was collecting them as ‘gifts’.

Once their personal mission of vengeance was complete, there was a sense of fulfillment and emptiness. What now? Doing this wouldn’t bring their Luca back, but it was a good way of venting their anger out on the ones responsible.

Haru and Ravein split ways after completing their personal mission to have some time to themselves. With Luca’s enemies dead, Haru could finally sit down and cry over the loss. Ravein, a person who rarely slept for long due to his constant bout of nightmares couldn’t sleep at all. It was the mere principle of being so caught up in his thoughts remembering Luca that his brain wouldn’t allow him to sleep.

Having a pictographic memory as he did, it made remembering Luca all the harder to process.

The two may have stayed out for longer before someone messaged them saying that if they stay out for too long, they may miss out on looking through Luca’s things to take before they’re disposed of. It didn’t take long for either of them to return to base to retrieve something to remember their friend by—and to also be punished for truancy.

Worth it, though.

#Voraxiia #Meme answered #Answered ask #Thanks for the ask!#Ravein answers #Quest; Haru #((In which I tried. I'm not very good at being creative and setting up scenes can you tell?))#((I do better if I have an idea of what to go off of WHEEZE. Also yes I threw in Haru bc I can))#((Gomen if it isn't good enough.))

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i-dreamed-i-had-a-son · 3 years

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Time for another realization spurred on only by Star Trek: just figured out I only know how to make friends in hierarchical contexts

#star trek #guess who this one is about folks guess who made me figure this out that's right spock #bc i was just thinking like--i'm lonely right? pretty solitary person etc. etc. and i worry often about whether that will change #and some days i don't feel like it needs to which is also 'in-character' lol i do actually quite like solitude #but that is distinct from loneliness and that's something else spock recognizes. he is a lonely character #and i was like well why don't i make other friends? and it hit me that i *literally don't know how*#like maybe i used to? freshman year when everyone was new i made some friends but they turned out to be toxic #but now? i've got no clue. except for in a context like the fencing team which has captains and subordinates and responsibilities etc.#aka.........much like the enterprise lol but no really it's a shared committment and responsibility but not something like office work #like i have no clue how to make actual friends in an office context. or in clubs anymore. or anything like that #but bonding gradually with someone over several years bc of shared moments of tension elation and hard work? that i can do #(not @ the t'hy'la bond being hypothesized to form in people who fought alongside each other as brothers of the sword 👀)#so i'm trying to think of how to make other friends and it isn't working and then bam my brain is like 'you know your favorite projectable?#'spock? well yeah he doesn't know how to make friends off the ship when he leaves he just goes 'i can't handle this it's kolinahr time' lol #so he isolates which is exACTLY WHAT I WOULD DO aksksjf and who knows maybe i will but i'm tryna follow his arc be healthy and accept mysel #but anyway so i thought about why spock can't make friends off-ship and it's because he doesn't understand how to just...relate to people #he needs a defined role and something to bring them together and a mutual passion and commitment to a task #THEN he can gradually bond with them. but just interacting with people and letting them in? just trusting some rando? nahh #which is exactly how i do it of course. so in analyzing spock i was like ooh shoot that me. dang #and my only friend('s') as a kid were ALSO from the fencing team but it was also toxic so i became even LESS likely to open up #traumatic childhoods?? just another relatable trait!! anyways yeah spock be out here as a whole fictional character teaching me about mysel #kay has a party in the tags #spock #kay can i just catch my breath for a second #*f twice and also *'

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Show Night

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.446

Warnings: Pure fluff. Competitiveness. Blurting. Hidden relationship. A little teasing. Embarassment.

Author’s note: This is a prequel to Game Night

Thank you @radaofrivia for your inspiration, motivation and for guiding me <3

Go read her stories here: Rada’s Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

“Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special treat for all of you. We have the entire Justice League here with us. Please give a warm welcome to Gal Gadot, Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Jason Momoa, Ray Fisher and Ezra Miller.”

The entire audience clapped. There were whistling, some were screaming at the top of their lungs. You were cheering just as loud. Watching your handsome boyfriend walk out and wave to everyone. A relaxed smile spread on his lips when his eyes landed on you.

You were at the Graham Norton show. Sitting on the front row. No one knew who you were except the man who owned your body, heart, and soul, and now also Graham Norton and his crew. The producers had wanted you to stay backstage, but you had been adamant on wanting to sit in the audience and watching the show live. They had relented in the end if you promised not to cause a ruckus, which you had sworn.

Graham starts asking questions about the Zack Snyder’s Justice League, and at some point the engagement ring for Amy Adams’ character ‘Lois Lane’ comes into the conversation.

“Did you in fact choose that ring yourself, Henry?” Graham asked and motioned to the monitor behind him, showing a closeup of the ring.

“I didn’t. I actually have no clue where it comes from,” Henry chuckled, his eyes searching for you. You could see he was a little nervous, as he was fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket. You put your hand on your chest and crossed your fingers.

It was your secret sign for him. A sign of your devotion to him, as you had promised to always be there for him. The idea came to you while watching your favourite anime show ‘Fairy Tail’.

“If you ever become nervous or need a reminder, then look towards me or the camera if I am not there. I will you show you this sign,” you had crossed your fingers over your heart, “Even if you can’t see me, no matter how far away you may be, I will always be watching over you.”(1)

It had been a day where Henry had had a long day filled with interviews right at the beginning of your relationship. He hadn’t wanted to ask you to come, which was the reason why you hadn’t attended, thinking he wanted to work in peace. He proceeded to come home and went directly for your lap, falling asleep in 0.2 seconds, and you had asked him to bring you with him to work, as you, an author, could work anywhere.

“… I think it is about time he finds himself a girlfriend, a woman to spend his life with,” Jason’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Henry squirming more than before. His jaw was tense as he was forcing a laugh. You felt his pain and wished you could sit next to him and squeeze his hand in yours.

“I have a lot of single friends, Supes. Say the word and I’ll introduce you,” Jason smacked Henry’s thighs with the biggest grin on his bearded face. It may have sounded like a joke to the audience but Henry knew that Jason wasn’t teasing.

“I don’t think my girlfriend will like that you’re playing matchmaker, brother,” Henry smiled. All the actors’ faces fell, even Jason was gobsmacked as his jaw dropped to the floor.

Then Henry noticed what he had just said. His head turned towards you with a look of utter shock. He had just blurted out that he wasn’t single anymore, without having consulted you. Your heart was racing, your secret had been revealed. In some way, it felt like a heavy stone having been lifted from your shoulders.

You didn’t know whether to scold him for not asking you to make your relationship public or to laugh at the horror he was sporting on that handsome face of his. You opted for the second choice, the people around you followed suit and started laughing and cheering.

“Well, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Henry Cavill is officially off the market,” Graham announced to the camera. “Now, Henry, you have to tell us how you two met.”

“We… eh… met through mutual friends. They were having a game night, and we ended up being paired together for charades,” Henry smiled at the memory. Looking at you, making you fall even more in love with him. Jason and the others noticed where Henry was looking and started shouting for you to join the group.

“Oh yes, please she must join us for the next part of the fun,” Graham pleaded.

Ray and Ezra both stood and went to stand at the edge of the stage. Each man gallantly offered a hand, which you took and was led towards the sofa. Jason moved to make space for you and was wearing a big grin, his eyes shining with glee.

After the rounds of introduction and you told what your occupation was, Graham went to introduce the little quiz game he had conjured. You were each given a button that made a sound. Yours sounded like a pig snorting, while Henry’s was a howling wolf.

“So, the winner gets to take home whatever is underneath this piece of cloth,” Graham said after he had told you the rules. He motioned to the covered box next to him.

“Everyone ready?” he asked. All the actors and yourself said yes. Henry was leaning a little forward, to be ready to push his button.

“First question: Who are the original members of the Justice League?”

You pushed your button faster than anyone, while Henry pushed his so hard it nearly flew off the table.

“Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Batman, The Flash, Superman and Green Lantern,” you told Graham. (2)

“Go girly,” Gal cheered for you. She leaned forward and raised her hand for a high five, which you returned.

“Correct! Question number two: What is the Green Lantern oath?”

*Oink oink*

Again you were the fastest. Everyone watched as Henry let out an annoyed huff, but his face showed nothing but absolute happiness.

“In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight.

Let those who worship evil’s might Beware my power, Green Lantern’s light. (3)” You quoted.

You felt the other actors starring at you. Jason gave you a side hug and told you that Henry had found not only a beautiful woman but also an impressive one and that he was damn lucky to have you. You had smiled back and felt yourself being pulled back towards Henry’s side. He held a protective arm around you the remaining of the show.

“Seriously, Cavill. Don’t want to compete with your girl?” Jason asked teasingly.

“I’ll gladly just lean back and let her have her time in the light. Besides, I’m already winning because she’s with me,” Henry smiled proudly at you. You heard the entire audience all go ‘awwwwwwwww’, so did the actors and Jason went between you and Henry to hug both of you.

“Third question: In what year was the first Justice League comic book published?”

Again you were quick to push the button.

“Depending on whether you’re talking about the first time they appeared all together which was in The Brave and the Bold #28 (4) and published in 1959, while their very first own comic book series was published in late 1960.” (5)

Henry raised his eyebrows, clearly dazzled by your vast knowledge.

“Correct again. Seems you know more about the Justice League than the Justice League itself,” Graham joked.

“I didn’t expect anything less from Superman’s girlfriend,” Ben said with an appreciative grin.

You felt Henry moving closer to you, hugging you tighter to his chest. It was the safest you had ever felt, and even though Henry hadn’t gotten one single point, he was still oozing happiness. Happy to have you by his side forever and ever.

“Here is what you’ve won,” Graham handed you the box and removed the cloth. Inside was Funko Pop figurines of every Justice League member.

After the show, you made sure that every single actor signed their respective figure, and you had pictures taken with them to remember the evening.

At home, you arranged the figures with how they look on the poster you had hung on the wall of your office.

“Another win for the team,” you said out loud. Henry walked in and hugged you from behind. He wrapped those big arms around your middle and whispered seductively in your ear:

“I’m the real winner here.”

1. This is a line from Fairy Tail episode 48 by Makarov Dreyar. I changed it a bit to fit the context.

2. Source https://ew.com/books/brief-history-of-the-justice-league-in-all-its-incarnations/

3. Source https://greenlantern.fandom.com/wiki/Lantern_Oaths_(Disambiguation)

4. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/The_Brave_and_the_Bold_Vol_1_28

5. Source https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Justice_League_of_America_Vol_1_1

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Jason Momoa #That man #Justice League #Gal Gadot #Ben Affleck #Ray Fisher #Ezra Miller #Graham Norton #Game Night #Show Night #My story #Fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic

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evilbeanghost · 3 years

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Idk completely why, no matter how many times I read the books, I always feel that the notes in Snape's book were actually written by Lily, and not Severus. I have some minor supporting theories but other than that no real reason to think this way. For starters, a lot of the tips do look like they are written to someone and not just notes for the self. The larger reason is that the handwriting is mentioned several times to be effeminate. The handwriting is described in a way to make me think it's very distinctive and should be identifiable. It wouldn't be unreasonable at all to expect the golden trio to recognize Snape's handwriting, given they've now had 5 years of the man marking their essays, leaving notes on homework, and writing on the board. Even at approximately 15 years from the time of writing, Snape's handwriting wouldn't have changed so much that it's indistinguishable. Especially for Hermione who just kinda Does That. But as no one has any idea of Lily's handwriting at the time, that makes more sense to me that they wouldn't recognize it at all. It also makes more sense to me for why Snape would keep the book after all these years. If it was full of Lily's notes and advice, he'd be more likely to want to hold onto it, whereas I can't really see someone holding onto their old textbook for fifteen years, unless it's something lost in like an attic, but in this instance Snape would have had to have held onto it deliberately for it to end up out of his home and into his office six years later.(I believe he started working at hogwarts at 21, right?) He would have had to deliberately pack it into his belongings, and why would someone carry along an old textbook? Oh! And Slughorn calls Lily a potions prodigy, doesn't he? He commends snape for his skill but Lily was the natural at potions. If snape was the one correcting the book, it would stand to reason that he would be the prodigy!(I may be mixed up at this point, I haven't read HPB in years) Regardless, it just makes more sense to me for the notes to have been written to Severus from Lily, even if sectumsempra was created by Snape.

I believe this one is also from you Nonny:

Oh this is the HBP anon I just wanna make clear that I feel Snape's feelings towards Lily are 100% platonic, but didn't initially feel that was relevant to what I was saying.

Hey Nonny,

Sorry for being so late in answering you - not been around much these last few days. I hope you will forgive me :)

There are a lot of theories about Snape’s Potions book (the dumbest being that this was James’ book *facepalm*), I personally I’m 100% convinced that those are indeed Snape’s notes. To address your clues about them being from Lily, here are my thoughts:

- have you ever written a journal? We do tend to write to someone in them, it’s the same here since it seems that the notes are way more than just potions tips and corrections going by Harry’s attachment to the Prince;

- handwriting has no gender, it’s a silly notion (this is coming from someone who was a little girl with a horribly messy handwriting). Also, I don’t know about you but if you compare my highschool notes to anything I handwrite today you wouldn’t be able to recognize it either. In particular if you were to compare notes cramped in the margin of a book and intended only for myself to something where I would put up way more effort like writing on a board for other people;

- About him keeping the book for that long, it does make sense since it’s full of experimental notes. I still have some chemistry notes from my Uni days that I kept even after my PhD because it was useful. It’s the same for Snape here I think, especially since we never hear about any post highschool education in the wizarding world. There is also the possibility, since it was found among other old potions books, that Hogwarts keep old books to lend to students in need and Snapes’s happened to be among these old books;

- Now, about Slughorn, you need to take some things into account. First, when we see him talking about Lily’s potions skills, it’s always to Harry. It makes sense that for an orphan hearing about his mother is way more relevant in that context than his hated potion professor, even if the latter was equally good or even better. Add to this that Lily was pretty and popular while Snape was dirty poor and an oddball and it’s not difficult to imagine old Sluggy preferring Lily to Severus even if their skills were equals. Since I already did some dig up in the books about that specific topic, allow me to quote myself here:

I dug up my old copy of HBP in order to see exactly what Slughorn had to say about Snape’s abilities at Potions and it is cementing my first take that Severus was indeed the exceptional student while Lily was “just” very good.

This is from the chapter “The Unbreakable Vow” in HBP, the scene during the Slug Club where Slughorn is praising Harry’s skills to Trelawney just before Snape appears:

‘But I don’t think I’ve ever known such a natural at Potions!’ said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. ‘Instinctive, you know — like his mother! I’ve only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that , Sybill — why, even Severus –’

That last bit clearly illustrate for me that for Slughorn, there were a handful of very good instinctive students – Like Lily –, and then Severus Snape above them.

And a little bit further, while raving about Harry’s Draught of the Living Death to Snape himself:

‘You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, the Draught of the Living Death – never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don’t think even you, Severus –’

Again, it sounds as if Severus Snape was, until Harry, the unchallenged best student Slughorn ever had.

So you see, for me, it’s Snape’s book, it’s Snape’s nickname (I would pay to see his adult self cringe hard at his ridiculous teenage nickname tbh) and it’s definitely Snape’s notes.

It’s also very important that those are indeed from Severus Snape from a narrative point of view. The connection Harry felt, his deep empathy for the Prince coupled with how good he suddenly was in Potions under his tutelage is so important:

- it shows how similar Harry and Snape are despite their unfortunate hatred, a parallel (along with Voldemort), that is pointed out several times in the books (the lost boys who call Hogwarts “home”);

- it shows that Harry, while looking like James, is indeed more like Lily in nature and felt instantly deeply connected with young Severus, they could have been best friends;

- Harry’s relationship with the Prince indeed parallels Lily’s relationship with Severus: a deep connection of true kinship, a fascination deep fried in a thirst for knowledge, a visceral feeling of closeness, and then: betrayal.

- it shows that, despite the mean professor persona, Snape could have been an excellent teacher to Harry, if only he could have let go of his bitterness;

- it’s important because it’s a rare window into the true Severus Snape, not an act he’s putting up for the world to see. It was the first clue about his true nature and it’s very interesting that it was given to us just before Snape killed Dumbledore, apparently casting him as evil in the eyes of Harry and by extension the reader.

Here it is friend, I hope I could convince you and if not, it’s ok, it was a fun discussion. Thank you for the ask.

#severus snape #snape #snapedom #lily evans #the half-blood prince #Nat replies #nonny #I hope this makes sense #but I feel strongly about this one #don't hesitate to share your thoughts you all #long post

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reyeslonestar · 3 years

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Question what are some things you wanna see in season 3 of lone star? Character development, plots, anything

I want to see Tonya Kong write every episode. that's all. thanks for asking!

sadfkja I joke, I do have other ideas, but that is definitely high on my wish list! i'm gonna go through by character and talk about what I'd like to see for them, so this is gonna get quite long whoops...

the main thing that I'd like to see overall, though, would be evidence of an overarching season plan or arc - it doesnt necessarily have to be a plot that stretches through all the episodes or anything major, but I'd love them to have plotted out the season before they start. from watching this season and then reading interviews after the finale, they dont appear to plan many things from the start and end up throwing in ideas as they go along. if they plan it from the start they can foresee how theyre going to affect character development more, and they can have a bit more balance in the types of episodes they have, so that the season is less insane and more naturally ebb-and-flow with a few light episodes to break up the drama.

okay, onto the characters! just going to do this in billing order for simplicity's sake. customary reminder that these are just my own opinions and thoughts, and this is more of a wish list than a realistic expectation.

if you want to search for a specific character, ctrl F for one of these terms including the dash at the start:

-Owen

-Tommy

-TK

-Grace

-Judd

-Marjan

-Paul

-Carlos

-Mateo

-Nancy

press “j” to skip the whole post.

-Owen

okay so I'd love to see them actually develop his character. Owen has been given a lot of backstory with lots to play with development-wise, but to me it feels like the show never goes anywhere with it. he's got a lot going on what with 9/11, feeling responsible for the fates of his fellow firefighters, the codependence of his relationships etc. I'd like to see him go to therapy and see him grow some self awareness and seek to manage himself better, rather than all his screentime devoted to him being a hero when other characters have the situation handled. it would really show him as a good leader if he drew on the skills that his team has and refer to them for advice/ideas. realistically he is the main character, so I'd like them to develop him like one.

also, I kind of love the chief role for him? I think it would suit him really well. but it would drag him away from the 126 and split up the dynamics too much so it would make for bad tv and I wouldnt actually want to see that. good for his character though.

-Tommy

I love Tommy :) just wanted to say that.

so obviously Tommy's got a lot of grief to handle next season, and I don't want them to shy away from that. I want it acknowledged and processed. (I'd also like a little bit of seeing the twins' grief too, because they're also suffering a massive loss). maybe something with Judd helping Tommy learn to manage her grief with his own experience of losing the original 126, encourage her to go to therapy, plus Tommy, Grace and Judd all feeling the loss of Charles together. after all, Grace and Judd were his friends and they will be grieving too.

I'd also kind of like to see Tommy have something outside being a working mother. obviously we're going to need to deal with that a lot especially now that Charles is gone, but I feel like she's been assigned the Character TraitTM of being the working mum and I'd like to see them give her a hobby or something. idk. and give her a night off with Grace or something. give her something just for her.

-TK

okay so I think theres a fair likelihood that theyre going to return to looking at TK's addiction next season which im not averse to. I think him struggling with his sobriety would be worthwhile to see for his character and to show that its not a straightforward path, plus it makes sense with all the insane stuff they've thrown at them in s2. however, Id like to see it in the context of his friends and family rallying around to help and support him and show him that he's got people to rely on, and that he's allowed to rely on them, plus the support of his AA meetings and therapy. I also need them to lay the groundwork for him struggling, so putting in signs of him deteriorating so the situation makes sense. this storyline doesn't need surprises to be interesting or good, and frankly it shouldn't have any.

as for him and Carlos, I definitely want to see them househunting! I'd like to see the combination of househunting/Carlos with Tommy's kids/Grace and Judd having their baby have an impact on their perspectives regarding their future and spark that conversation (like, looking at houses with more rooms and thinking about kids, future, marriage etc). I think that maybe one of them, probably TK, or maybe both of them those boys have way too many parent issues having anxieties about being a dad could be an interesting way to add tension without being too drastic, and then that can be resolved in a way that reassures them of their relationship and reaffirms their strength as a couple. the talk about the future would also lay the groundwork towards a proposal at the end of s3.

-Grace

grace :) my love :)

I could watch episode after episode of Grace kicking ass and saving people over the phone. I'd love to see an episode set there? like, some kind of story within the call centre with all the handlers having to resolve that between them, but also tie in the first responders, so we see the fire team, the paramedics and Carlos all working but we only see the bits that Grace and the other call handlers hear, if that makes sense? also an actual Grace/Carlos team up where they are coming in from the different angles with different amounts of evidence and figuring out the best way to solve something together. plus I'd like to see her maybe get some recognition for being awesome at her job, maybe another handler coming to her for advice on how to solve something.

of course we've got the baby Ryder on the way, and I want that to go comfortably and smoothly for her. she deserves that. lots of wholesome excitement for her and Judd from the whole extended firefam, baby shower, gifts, the full works. pamper grace please.

-Judd

judd4captain2k22. please.

yeah I know its not gonna happen, but I loved judd stepping in as captain this season and I'd love to see that continued with him taking more leadership, and Owen deferring to him for advice/council in a work environment rather than personal life. maybe set up a long term idea about judd being a captain someday.

he's gonna be a dad :') so what are his anxieties about that? why were they putting it off before? was it related to his PTSD? he's got lots of people relying on him now, how does that make him feel? what if his kid loses him? id like to see him still using therapy as a tool to help himself deal with everything. lots of meaty questions to dig into there :D

-Marjan

I'd quite like to see more of her balancing her daredevil nature with the impact of that and realising how much danger she puts herself in sometimes. or on the flip side, maybe the team is dealing with a really dangerous situation and they utilise her fearlessness to save people. her relationship with social media could also come back? but bring in the development they gave her this season, and her Firefox presence is more serious, less flippant?

I think that theres now a space for her to explore her sexuality/romantic experience now that she hasn't got her engagement with Salim as a kind of failsafe. maybe she wants to put herself out there and date, but thats really daunting as shes never really had to do that before? personally I think this could tie in really well with a self discovery/exploration regarding her sexual orientation, but I doubt they’d go there with her, so thats just my headcanon.

-Paul

I want them to draw on Paul’s observational skills and perceptiveness more, especially on calls and in emergencies. I remember someone (sorry I cant remember who) pointed out that he would have been a great character to centre the arsonist plot around in terms of noticing the clues etc, so id love a storyline that revolves around him dealing with an emergency like that. I also really want a Carlos and Paul friendship so maybe them collaborating on a call to solve something, that’d be cool.

can we give Paul a girlfriend please. if im not complely insane, there was a reference to someone in like,, 2x04?? someone who put mayo in his sandwich? idk I havent checked (edit: it was aioli in his banh mi! thank you @meneatyoghurt), but if there is someone can we show him having a fun and loving relationship please. I dont need there to be any drama. just them having fun on a date or something.

-Carlos

so I know that some people are keen to see him in his police role more but I really don't need much of that. on calls with the 126 I'd like to see him be the officer in charge more, but I don't need police-exclusive storylines. I've talked about it here if you want to know why.

the only area that I'd like to see would be in the direction of reform/addressing the flaws of the system, and I think they can do that on a personal level for him, because he and Mitchell need a chat. if they'd gone with her decision in 2x08, he, Mitchell and the bank robber would all be dead, and I think thats gotta have some impact. also the fact that he was suspended for trying to preserve life. theres a lot they could work with there and maybe have him thinking about how he can do good and how he can effectively protect and serve. not to mention, the opportunity that would provide in terms of addressing his relationship with his dad and how he maybe sought approval by pursuing a police career?

also I’d like him to learn that he doesnt need to accept blame/preemptively put blame on himself and that he doesnt need to apologise when someone else hurt him. kind of want to send him to therapy. kind of want to send all the characters to therapy. but yeah, him learning that he can accept apologies and understand that he doesnt have to make people feel better for hurting him. hes allowed to be hurt and feel pained about it. and that can tie into his relationships with Mitchell, with TK and with his parents.

I think I mentioned most of the tarlos stuff in TK’s section, but I wouldn't mind at least one instance for them where we see it all from his perspective instead of TK’s.

finally ive mentioned above how i’d like a team up with Paul on a scene and both of them figuring it out together. I'd also like them having a friendship outside work, just the two of them, bonding over books and being relatively sane people compared to the rest of their friends.

-Mateo

Mateo is so sweet. I loved 2x14 and the recognition he got, more of that please! also theres still so much I want to know - one of the more consistent things they set up for him in s2 was his faith, so I want to know more about that. what's his relationship with religion and God? he's pretty isolated from his family so how does he feel about that? is his religion something that helps him feel connected to them? maybe the church helped him find a community when he first came to the states, before he got settled with the 126, and he finds reassurance in faith that God is looking after his family while he cant be there? I think maybe there's scope for a conversation between Marjan and Mateo about that, about that distance and caring for their families through faith and prayer.

also, if he's still with the horrible firehouse, I'd like to see the other firefighters being won round by his resilience and stepping up to look out for him, and someone backing him up against the captain. Mateo is used as the butt of the joke most of the time, but I'd also like to see a bit more acknowledgement of things like losing his house and the bullying hes going to get more of from this firehouse.

-Nancy

I think that her speech to Tommy in 2x14 was really telling, and I'd love to see them expand on that a bit more. first on the loss and fear of losing her friends and coworkers, but then also on her hopes and aspirations - she said she wants to be a paramedic captain so lets see her working to take her exams and qualifications, and showing initiative on scenes etc.

id like to see more of her being integrated into the 126 group. she and marjan turned up to the hangout together, so lets develop that relationship more. I would love it to be romantic but I'd also love to see that as a friendship. but also her forming bonds with others in the group as well as more of her and TK being a chaos duo. I love that they stole the ambulance, more of that insanity please!

I think thats it? if youre still reading, youre insane and I appreciate you a lot! honestly im open to all sorts of things in s3, this isnt a prediction or anything, its just stuff I think would be interesting based on where the characters are now.

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 7

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There is violence in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: *chants* BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF. *sings* they're ain't no big thing just show them a little swing. Beneficial Cucumber. Author's notes are spoilers without context at this point... Y'all-

My beta, @miscmarvelwritings . We make the best duo. I am her dumb of ass and she is my gay. I love her.

Tony was elbow-deep in a robot when I came out of the elevator, Peter holding up the spare part needed, hovering next to the engineer. Without preamble, I was directed to help and dutifully fulfilled Tony's requests. Nothing indicated that my evening stunt ever happened besides Pete's faint blush; I might as well have written it off to the tank top hugging the upper part of my body in all the right places.

I was disappointed, I won't lie to myself - I expected Tony to tease me at least a little bit, snark something vaguely lewd and move on. But the engineer was quiet today, eerily so, almost to the point where it seemed he was ignoring me on purpose. My pride didn't let me begin any of our usual banter so I frowned in silence, making the appearance of a very focused person. Bolts and screws - most interesting things in the world!

As usual, I clocked out first around eleven thirty, leaving Pete and Tony some time to discuss their secret science stuff. Usually I would be exhausted by this point which left little to no room for jealousy but that night, emotions hit me like a freight train and it took me every ounce of my willpower to head out to Bruce's for the inevitable "I'm disappointed in you/Fuck safely" round of brainwashing.

My brain kept returning to the downwards tilt of Tony's mouth and the somber mood around him. I hated seeing him so...unhappy and tense.

The moment I set step in Bruce's lab, I saw the man's back hunched over a tube, I felt the same energy coming from him. What a fucking day! The sigh that left my mouth was resigned. "Bruce?"

A couple of seconds passed before he turned. He attempted a smile but it didn't reach his eyes at all. "Hi, Princess."

I cocked my head in defeat. "If this is the part where you lecture me, let's get over it. Or even better, you say nothing and we carry on," I pursed my lips, inspecting my nails in favour of actually facing the scientist.

I heard the click-clack of his instruments being placed on the table and the soft taps of his shoes against the tiled floor. His arms reached around my shoulders before I could even attempt to pull away, one of his broad palms tucking my face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not mad, baby girl," He told me quietly.

I felt some of the tension dissipate, wrapped my arms around him, coming to a realization the man was all but melting into me.

"Just stay safe, alright? I don't want you to get hurt," With the same quiet tone, Bruce gently shushed my worries away. "If something is wrong, you can come to me. You know that, right?" He sounded painfully hopeful as he withdrew just enough to capture my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye.

Something about the look in his eyes made my heart ache. I didn't have the heart to refuse, nor did I want to, so I nodded. Promptly, I was embraced yet again, his lips resting on the crown of my head, both of us swaying gently.

I've never wanted to cry so badly in my entire life.

"I'm a fuckin' mess, Bwucie, you haven't got a clue what you've gotten yourself into," I settled for a round of self-deprication instead. Bitter as it was, it was the barenaked truth.

"Then you're a beautiful mess," I could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. So I smiled, too, obscured by his lab coat.

As much as I didn't want to leave the embrace, like, ever, I had to get home before one o'clock - before mother went to bed, zonked out on Valium and Ambien from the endless supply closet courtesy of my dad. "M'hafta go home," I mumbled.

Bruce sighed deeply. "I'll grab one of Tony's cars and drive you," He went over to remove his lab coat as I gaped. "I'm a forty-five year old man, I can drive." He chuckled humorlessly.

"Tony won't mind?" I asked the first question that popped into my mind to attempt dispelling the awkward moment.

"Trust me, he won't mind at all," Bruce mumbled darkly. I wondered what's up with that but the immediate future for me was already planned out: I was really looking forward to going home, crawling into bed with my clothes on and having a good old fashioned cry.

We made quick work of locating a set of keys and peeling out of the garage in Tony's shiny Audi R8, tires squealing on the wet pavement. It had stopped raining sometime during my robot building but the city was still filled with puddles. I could smell the moist, decaying leaves through the tiny gap of the window, the city was drowning in autumn like I was drowning in my own cluelessness.

The adrenaline rush, the weight of Tony's foul mood, the grief and pleading that radiated off Bruce mixed into a horrendous cocktail of misery and pain. Too much pain for my little, weak, dumb heart to handle. And all these people out in the streets, dressed to the nines despite the disgusting weather - laughing, hugging and drunkenly giggling, it was like salt on my wounds, rubbing it in how much of a good time they were having.

"This your house?" Bruce pointed at the black, high gate of the entrance to my garage.

"Yeah, it's a bit much," I nodded absentmindedly, seeing Bruce's eyes bulge at the sheer size of my estate. My mother wouldn't settle for any less than the best so having a monstrously huge (for NYC) home was what she got. Dad just signed the checks.

Bruce hummed.

I made a face, reaching for his warm hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Bwucie," Smiling at him, I used up the last of my good mood to show the gratitude he deserved.

He pulled me into a tight hug right over the middle console. It wasn't comfortable by any means with the numerous buttons and switches poking at the soft of my stomach but there was nowhere else I'd rather be than in his arms during that moment. The breaths that left me felt like they were punched out of my chest cavity by steel-toed boots.

"Good night, Princess. Sweet dreams." He kissed my cheek, lingering just a tiny bit.

I did the same, rubbing softly against his stubble and giggling at the ticklish sensation. "Night night, Bwucie."

I waved at him again as I unlocked my front gates and watched him speed off from behind it, obscured by the shadows of the decorative trees growing right behind the fence.

Bruce's face had morphed into something akin to torment or suffering the moment I disappeared from his immediate eyesight and it baffled me to no extent. I ransacked my brain left and right, searching for a reason I might have inadvertently caused him to feel that way but found none. The only logical reason was that he was just lonely. He didn't have many friends from what I gathered and if judging by the proud tone in which he spoke of Will-Mr Davies today, he desperately needed some other company than his teammates. I wish I could have helped.

Mother was nowhere to be seen when I entered the house so a beeline for my bed was successful. The ugly, loud, dry-heaving sobs weren't in any shape or form attractive or acceptable to show to anybody but me so when they forced their way out of me, the pillow keeping me company. I cried as for everything that was happening to me as much as I sobbed because of the self-pity I was indulging in.

It was pathetic, really. My mother would scoff and my father... Well, he'd offer me to 'cheer up, throw a party, do normal teenager stuff'. The bottle of wine I kept in my closet was empty in no time: I justified that as a single lady in a big city, I was entitled to relax once in a while.

Who was I lying to? I downed a bottle in twenty minutes just so I could fall asleep and begone from all this bullshit for a while.

On Monday, I anonymously submitted the documents pertaining to Thompson's behaviour to the school board and to a local newspaper that was known to dabble in socialite gossip. Next day, an investigation was promptly launched and important-looking people started to appear in the hallways, going in and out of the principal's office. Flash was pulled out of class by two police officers: at this point, half the student population was unashamedly filming it on their smartphones, me included. With grim satisfaction, I sent the video directly to the group chat with an added message of "so long, fucker".

Steve didn't even remark on my profanity, just sent a thumbs up.

It really fuckin' blew up the next morning. The news was plastered across every paper, every social media site - "Midtown Principal's son arrested for grand theft auto and assault", "Midtown Principal Being Investigated for obstruction of education" and other ridiculous headlines that had me, Bucky and Natasha in shit-fits.

Flash returned to school on Wednesday accessorized with a pretty ankle monitor and a sullen frown. During lunch, he sat only with two of his closest minions instead of the chatty group he was usually seen with. Everybody avoided him like the bubonic plague, even teachers ignored him.

With the final bell, me and Pete went on to look for Happy outside the school territory.

I was spending nearly every evening at the tower either in Tony's or Bruce's lab or sandwiched between Wanda and Bucky on the couch, gossiping while TV shows mutely played in the background. I had found a second friend in the face of Winter Soldier who, much like me, spent a lot of his days occupied by the internet or in a general state of confusion. Bucky was charming, funny and very flamboyant. I enjoyed the no-nonsense attitude and zero fucks that he gave the world in general.

The moment I stepped on the other side of the gate, I immediately knew something was wrong. Peter squirmed uncomfortably beside me, looking frantically in every direction, trying to spot Happy's car in vain.

"Ay, Parker," The familiar obnoxious voice of Peter's bully reached our ears. "You wanna tell me how you got your grubby little hands on that file?"

Thompson had brought back up with him, the idiot that he was. He was standing off to the side, leaning against the fence while five older boys surrounded us in a tight circle.

"Leave us alone, Flash, you're already in trouble," Peter tried reasoning with the bully meanwhile I... I was searching for a cleaner, dryer spot to dump my $1500 bag onto in preparation for the inevitable. I was no stranger to swinging my arm - as a frequent house party guest, I've had to fend off enough unwelcome advances. I've been told I have a mean, mean right hook.

"Bold of you to assume Peter would actually steal something," I stated in a bored tone once my bag was out of the way and Pete was standing securely behind me. I wasn't afraid of Flash, mostly because I knew he'd step back for the fear of retaliation from my family was usually too much.

"Oh, look at that, the weirdo is talking," Thompson mocked, getting up and standing right in front of my face. "You know, I don't get why the likes of you have to go to school with us, normal people. See, Peter here might be a little wimp but at least he won't shoot up the whole school one day because his daddy didn't love him enough," Thompson decided to test his luck. To finish his epic tirade with a flourish, he spat on the ground next to me.

I snorted. "Wow, that's an awful lot of smart words for someone as dumb as a doorknob," I shook my head in disdain. "Look, either you go now or I'll sue you so far up your ass, you'll be sucking dick in prison just to get something to fill your stomach with." And wow, that comeback was really, really good. I was proud of myself.

I saw pure rage mar Thompson's already ugly face into something demonic and ducked at the last moment, feeling the blunt sting of his knuckles connect with my left cheekbone. Reflectively I swung, too, decking him straight in the nose with all the rage and despair that was burning deeply inside of me at that time.

I heard gasps all around me as the students whispered, shouted and cheered at Thompson's confused form hitting the ground. He held his face and his palms were stained a deep crimson; I felt something warm on my face, copper in my mouth.

"Does anybody want some of that, too?" My tone was icy. I shrugged off the hand that landed on my shoulder, glaring down one of the boys who came with Thompson.

"Shit, cops, RUN!" One of the students suddenly shouted and just like that, both me and Flash were surrounded only by a handful of students who had filmed the entire incident on camera. God bless technology!

"Uh, I think you're bleeding," Pete timidly remarked from behind me, hand still awkwardly outstretched towards me. He cast a guilty look to the side where Happy was running towards us, phone held to his ear, no doubt already on the line with Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Shit, fuck, SHIT. I didn't plan for this!

The police officers called an ambulance for Flash and took my statement while I was holding my bleeding nose up to the sky, much to the officer's dismay. Happy had passed the officer his mobile phone and I briefly heard Tony's voice saying that I will be taken care of in the tower's medical suite - and let's face it, no cop will go against Iron Man's charm and wit.

As an eighteen year old, I could refuse the on-site medical assistance that the city provided and my parents weren't required so I was let go after my statement was taken and my injuries photographed.

Not that the photoshoot really was required. Multiple people had the incident on video, from multiple angles. It was an open and close case. I called my mother in the elevator (she didn't answer) and left her a voice message with the bare facts of the situation and my current whereabouts.

Seeing the whole team assembled in the living room, some nervously twitching, some anxiously pacing, I couldn't help but let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "Oh my god, guys, I'm not in a coma, stop acting like I'm in a coma!"

Bucky was the first to approach me, carefully hugging me and steering me towards Bruce. He looked a bit rough, green-ish? I guess. But the first aid kit was already on the table and Stephen Strange was hovering nearby.

"You decked the sucker real good, doll," Bucky's Brooklyn accent made his speech less intelligible but he definitely got all the cookie points for the heat and the passion.

"Ditto. Should've kicked him in the balls, too," Natasha smirked and Steve mirrored her smirk with a darker twist.

"I'm going to sue him so darn far up his ass," Tony seethed, looking absolutely livid.

"Don't worry, mother's got it handled," I obediently laid down on the couch, staring up at Bruce's wide eyes and Stephen's focused face.

"You are fearless and fierce, dear lady," Thor boomed from somewhere.

All of this was making me... Emotional. I just punched a piece of human garbage, it was not a big deal, okay? He had it coming. I chuckled uncomfortably, wincing when Bruce began dabbing at the dried blood on my face with a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol. "Petey, you alright?" I asked, worried about the sudden onset of silence from the usually chatty boy. He mumbled something. "Speak up, I can't hear shit with all the ringing in my ears."

That earned me a worried look from doctor Strange and a frown from Bruce.

"I should've protected you-I mean-it's not that you can't do it yourself, or because you're a girl, it's just-I," he suddenly stopped.

"Go ahead, kid," Tony urged him with unmistakable kindness in his voice.

"You see, I'm-I'm actually Spider-Man and I'm afraid to accidentally kill someone, 'cause I'm really strong." Pete blurted out.

I had to replay his words several times in my head to get to the gist of what he was actually saying. Shy little Peter? Spider-Man? So that's why he was such a fucking pacifist? I mean, it made perfect sense if he really was strong enough to lift cars and hold together collapsing bridges like I'd seen on YouTube.

"Huh," I stated after a brief pause. "I guess I did double the work today, dumped out some trash and prevented a potential murder. I'm on a roll and I deserve chocolate cake," I rambled to distract myself from the incoming dull headache and the sting of the alcohol against the split skin of my cheek.

Strange chuckled, looking, possibly, the happiest I've ever seen him. Bruce giggled too. A tiny bit.

"Friday, order the biggest, most expensive chocolate cake that can be delivered in... Two hours," Tony immediately spoke up.

"Cake," I mumbled happily, a strange drowsiness overcoming me, making my eyelids droop. "Hey-mmm, doc?" I slurred, seeing Stephen's face fall. "M'think m'concussed, f'king 'ell!" The snort that left his mouth was absolutely hilarious; I started giggling, too, startling Banner into action.

He picked up his phone, saying something I didn't understand at all.

"Y'kno," I had this totally bright idea I absolutely NEEDED to share with everyone. "Y'kinda look like the guy... Wha's'is name... Bendy-snap Crum-ble-sticks? No, wait," Snorts and giggles began to resonate through the room as the amount of Doctor Stranges suddenly multiplied by two. He was a WIZARD, that was so cool! "I think... Mmm, yes... Benadryl-Claritin? No-no-no, 'das meds," Woah, a lot of people were there and they were suddenly all laughing. I wondered what was so funny. It was hard to think with so many people laughing; my temples were pulsating uncomfortably. "Wait, I know, I know!" There were wheezing noises now, noises that distinctively reminded me of Tony and Wanda and Bucky. "Bubble-butt Coitus-snack!" I triumphantly exclaimed, finally happy to have gotten it right.

The laughter turned into truly demonic cackling, surrounding me, they were so loud I almost managed to get fully afraid. And then, I passed the fuck out.

TAGLIST IS OPEN Y'ALL.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #Bruce Banner fluff #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #Stephen Strange x y/n #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #bun writes #party favours #IN THIS HOUSE WE PROTECT PETER PARKER WITH OUR LIVES AND FACES

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

this is the life

ole miss rafe x reader

you and your boyfriend deal with your ~futures~

literally no one asked for this lol, i’m sorry

(warnings: cursing)

Your animal and dairy sciences seminar had a report due that you’d stayed up very late making last minute edits to because you were stressed it was really bad. The next morning was brutal. Not only was in an 8 a.m. lecture, but your coffee machine was out and you overslept, barely giving yourself enough time to get to class before the professor checked attendance.

You slid into your seat, out of breath, just as started scanning the seating chart for attendance. The boy who sits next to you turned to ask, “Library was backed up this morning?”

“What?” you asked, halfway paying attention, still scrambling to get your notebook out.

“Since you’re running late, I’m assuming it’s because the library was busy when you went to print your report.”

Your stomach dropped and you swore, “Fuck. I forgot to print it. Fucking fuck. I submitted it online but I forgot we needed to hand him a physical copy too. Oh god I can’t afford to fail this class.” You were getting worked up and the boy was starting to look more and more like he regretted talking to you in the first place.

“I mean he’s pretty chill, so I’m sure if you explain he’ll let you bring it by his office later.”

The boy had a point, but you were already too far gone. For the rest of the class, you were unfocused, and if someone asked you what he lectured on, you’d have no clue, so preoccupied with rehearsing how you were going to beg him for an extension. You only had one other class, and you’d definitely be able to print it out and run it to him between them, but that was depending on if he let you.

Just as class was ending, your phone vibrated in your hoodie pocket, and you checked it, immediately calmed at seeing a text from your boyfriend. Rafe sent Can’t wait to see you this weekend and whatever had a grip on your chest loosened enough for you to take a full breath for the first time since waking up.

After speaking to your professor and his reassurance that you didn’t really need to worry much about the written report, that it was just to ensure everyone had it turned in prior to class, you left, much happier, but the exhaustion hitting you straight in the gut.

Thankfully, all you had left that day was a communication elective and then to drive to Rafe’s apartment in Oxford. He’d convinced you to make the trip because he wanted to show you around the place he’d called home for four years after leaving behind his “hometown trauma.” His words.

Your class flew by, people were giving speeches and you’d given yours Wednesday, so you sat there mindlessly, half asleep, until she dismissed the class for the weekend. Stopping back by your apartment to pick up your overnight bag, you decided to last minute check your PO Box, it had been a while. To your shock, you actually had mail, and when you saw the return address, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.

There was about a two-hour drive to Rafe’s apartment from Starkville, and you had the option of opening the letter containing either the best news or the worst news of your life before the drive or at Rafe’s apartment. Part of you wanted to know then, but a stronger part of you wanted to be with Rafe so he could comfort you if necessary.

Instead of making a decision, you felt your tired brain could not, you called Rafe. He answered before the second ring and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I see that receptionist job taught you some useful skills.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Answering my calls fast, that’s good because my time is money.”

Rafe sighed, “Can I help you?”

“Someone’s mad. But, yes, should I open the letter from the vet school now or wait until I get to Oxford.”

You heard some shuffling around before he answered, “You think you can wait? I actually have something to tell you too.”

“Yeah, um, sure,” you were a little worried, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. We just need to talk.”

“Right, talk, are you sure everything’s good?”

“Yeah, stop worrying. Just drive on over.”

You had been excited to go visit, but after that phone call you wanted to go back to bed. With a deep sigh, you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and slumped backward. Blinking away the spots, you buckled up, pit in your stomach, and drove to your favorite coffee shop in Starkville. If shit was going to go down in Oxford you were going to have your comfort drink.

StrangeBrew’s drive-thru was packed and you tapped your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as you waited to order your blueberry cobbler cold brew with soy milk. Right as the barista handed you the to-go cup, your phone vibrated and Rafe had sent drive safe!! <3. The fuck did that mean in the context of your earlier phone conversation?!

The drive to Oxford was boring as hell. You’d made it before, a band you liked had played there one night, and you and some friends had made the reluctant trip to see them. Turning on your podcast, you focused on nothing but the drive, pushing aside relationship doubts and the growing anxiety about the letter sitting in your passenger seat.

You called Rafe when you got close, and he was waiting outside his building when you finally found a visitor’s spot. He jogged over to grab your overnight bag and bent down to give you a quick kiss, before greeting you with, “Hey, baby, how was the drive?”

“Boring as fuck, nothing new.”

“Went smoothly?”

“About as smooth as possible. I’ve had to pee for the last like 40 minutes though, so it’d be great if I could do that now.”

He laughed and turned to walk to his building, motioning for you to follow him. You did, scampering a little to keep up with his long strides, and he unlocked a door on the first floor, holding it open for you, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Rafe was sitting on the couch when you made it back out to the living room, and you finally took a good look at him. His laptop was on the coffee table and he was wearing a pair of Ole Miss sweats, a worn-out t-shirt, and a pair of glasses you were unaware he needed.

“Take a picture,” he interrupted your train of thought and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up, Cameron. Now, tell me what you want to talk about so I can open my letter.”

“No, open your letter first and then we’ll talk.”

You weren’t sure why he was so insistent or why your heart rate tripled, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t the coffee. With shaking hands, you held up the letter from the MSU Vet School. All of your undergrad work came down to that letter, whether you’d have to take a gap year and try to find work to apply again or whether you could move forward in your career path.

Rafe watched on eagerly as you carefully tore it open and started reading. Eyes jumping across the page, unable to focus, you barely made out, Congratulations and We welcome you and We look forward to seeing you next fall.

With a gasp, you launched yourself at an unprepared Rafe and latched on, arms wrapped around his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly and asked, gently, “Good news?”

“I’m going to Vet School,” you whispered, voice cracking in the middle of your sentence.

“Fucking right you are, my little Rockstar.”

Your face heated up and you buried it in the crook of his neck, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Only to come crashing back down a few seconds later as you remembered Rafe wanted to talk. Pulling back slowly, you asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

His face lit up and he leaned forward, hanging on to you so he didn’t accidentally dump you onto the floor, and grabbed his laptop. Clicking to his email, he showed you the message he had pulled up from Mississippi State University Department of History Admissions.

“So, you know I’ve been interested in teaching,” he started, “and I’m debating whether I’d like to teach college or not.”

“Yeah, last we talked, you were leaning toward college professor, right?”

“Right. Well, I applied to a few schools that had a PhD program I was interested in, and I heard back from my top choice.”

Your mind was racing, still not connecting the dots, until he motioned at his laptop. Looking back down, you skimmed the email, telling him that he’d been accepted into MSU’s PhD in European History program and gasped, turning back to him in excitement, “No way?!”

“Way,” he told you, wide grin on his face.

Jaw dropped, your mind raced to put together a coherent thought, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The program is good, this isn’t a new thought, but MSU obviously jumped up my preference list to the top after we got together.”

“Fuckin whipped,” you teased and he tilted your chin down to kiss you.

Pulling away he brushed some of your hair back, “Only for you.”

As he leaned in again, you were the one to pull back, “Wait, we have to celebrate!”

Rafe groaned, “No, let me kiss you.”

“No! I want food, I spent the entire ride thinking I was going to get dumped when I got here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“We need to talk,” you quoted, “that’s one scary fucking sentence, Cameron.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I just wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well you did.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again and pulled back to add, “You really think I’d make you drive all the way here, just to break up with you. I’m wounded you think that lowly of me.”

“You are an asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched your cheek gently, “Be nice to me, I’m sacrificing my dignity and lowering myself to Mississippi State’s standards.”

Blinking a few times in surprise at his sudden switch, you told him back, “Fuck off, I’m sure you were last choice as soon as they saw where you got your undergrad degree.”

Without saying anything else, he kissed you again, gripping behind your knees and shifting so your back was on the couch. As he lowered himself down on top of you, you decided that food could wait. You had your future to celebrate.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #college rafe #ole miss rafe

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Messages from a Hacker (Part 4)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil

Characters: Virgil, Logan

Summary: Virgil almost pulls a fast one on Logan and gets tea as a consolation prize.

Notes: Time travel AU, sort of stalkerish behavior, (not really because he is never attempting to acquire the information to get to Virgil and doesn’t pry into private things, but still watch it if it’s a trigger)

This is set during the story Folds in Paper

‘I’m impressed.-L’ Virgil hesitated when the email popped up on his lunch break. He hadn’t gotten a message from Lo since helping Janus get coordinates to a university in 2008 the day before. He’d gotten a vague courtesy email a couple of hours prior that said his help had panned out, meaning they’d probably managed to find Pat.

He decided to play innocent. ‘What?’ he typed back.

‘I may even have not noticed the search in the University database if I wasn’t already fully aware of what was going on.-L’

‘…How?-AM’

‘The Pat Janus recently caught is far earlier in the timestream than I am. The event happened literally years ago for me.-L’

‘…Dammit.’

‘Yet, if I was unaware of the situation, I possibly would not have caught on. Therefore, I am still impressed.-L’

‘I assume since you’re telling me this, past Pat is now long gone.-AM’

‘Very much so.-L’

Virgil sighed. He was sure Janus was pissed. ‘So, why 2008?-AM’

‘There is a shop that has good tea.-L’

“mmhmm and why do you know it has good tea?-AM’

‘I had an occasion to go there at some point in time for some reason. Neither of which I am disclosing to you.-L’

‘pls?’

‘No.-L’

‘Was worth a shot.-AM’ Then before Lo could respond. ‘Must be good tea.-AM’

‘It is, though some of it might be nostalgia. They have a lavender milk tea they make by hand in the summer months. I am the only member of my friend group that likes it.-L’

‘Cool. Lavender’s nice. One of the better scents, though I haven’t tasted a lot with the flavor.-AM’

‘Are you near your office?-L’

‘Sus.’ Virgil returned. Then, ‘I’m in my office. Why?’

Instead of getting an answer from Lo, there was a knock on the door. Virgil blinked at it, suddenly very suspicious and not just playfully suspicious.

‘what did you do’ he sent off as he walked to the door to open it.

Benny was standing there with a small box in his hands. “You have a delivery, Professor,” he said offering him the box. He seemed a bit confused, and Virgil started to wonder by what method the box had been delivered before deciding he didn’t actually want a migraine today.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Virgil said, taking it. He nodded awkwardly and then closed the door on him. He set the package on his desk and just looked at it for a moment before sighing and reaching over to open it. As he expected from context clues, it was a plastic cup of tea with a cute little logo on the side of a cat sleeping with its tail curled up over its nose.

He picked up his phone. ‘Did you really just illegal time travel me a cup of tea?’

‘Define “illegal.”-L’

Virgil groaned and put his head in his hands without responding.

Another email popped up a second later. ‘Do you like it?-L’

Virgil shook his head in exasperation and then grabbed the tea to stick the straw into it. He took a sip. It was appallingly sweet for the 4500s, but… ‘yeah-AM’ he typed.

‘Really? I’m glad.-L’

Virgil smiled and bit his lip before sending, ‘Maybe we could grab tea together sometime.-AM’

‘Would I be walking into a sting operation?-L’

Virgil’s lips twitched. ‘…Maybe…-AM’

There were a couple of moments before Lo responded. Virgil took another sip of the tea while he waited. ‘Maybe.-L’

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 5

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #ts sides #folds in time universe #adriana writes #not pieces fic #time travel #stalking type behavior

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aj-illustrated · 3 years

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*pulls up a 97-slide PowerPoint* I’m so glad you asked

Ben is an OC co-owned by me and @finnoky! The short of it is that he’s an orphan who Varian helps save from a life of crime, and who later gets adopted by Quirin!

More about him under the cut:

Age: About 12

Birthday: He has no idea, but thinks it might have been sometime in the autumn.

Likes: Quirin, Varian, farmwork, tending to the sheep, his dog (Achilles), the Challenge of the Brave (spectating and later competing), adventure stories, head pats, strawberries, friendly roughhousing, drawing

Dislikes: Cramped spaces (he’s claustrophobic), people hugging him, carrots, books with complicated words, cold weather, any kind of tight or scratchy clothing

Fun Facts:

Ben meets Varian about nine months after the end of the series.

He’s good friends with Kiera and Catalina! They’re the only kids his age who can beat him in a fair fight.

He eventually grows to be taller than Varian, and absolutely uses that fact to tease him.

He’s an excellent pickpocket, though he hasn’t stolen much of anything since Quirin took him in.

He’s got a knack for drawing— he’s not too good with words, so he finds it easier to express himself with pictures. He’s also a leftie!

He’s been almost adopted several times, but Quirin is the only foster parent who kept him around for longer than a month.

Backstory: Ben is an orphan who’s been given a raw deal in life, and as a result is kinda pissed off at everyone and everything all the time. The orphanage he grew up in was lacking to say the least, and he spent much of his early childhood being routinely abused and neglected, often lashing out in aggression at those he deemed to be a threat (which was most people). He eventually starts getting into trouble with the law and is tossed in prison for multiple counts of petty theft and assault, and it’s around that time that he meets Varian, who is helping to reform Corona’s prison system and is disgusted to see that they’re still punishing children as if they were adults.

He gets Ben out of prison, but the orphanage refuses to let him come back, so Varian convinces Quirin to take him in. Quirin agrees for a few factors: 1. Ben reminds him of Varian when he was going through a rough time, and how Quirin wasn’t able to help him then, 2. He’s not getting any younger and could use some help around the farm (plus Varian has been worried about him getting lonely, now that Varian has basically moved into the castle), and 3. The kid deserves a shot at having a healthy, stable home life.

Ben only agrees to go live with Quirin because trying to survive on the streets is no picnic, and also because he’d really rather not stay in prison for any longer than he has to. He figures that it won’t last, anyway— Quirin will lose patience with him and kick him to the curb, just like every other foster parent/guardian he’s been handed off to. He gets very confused (and a little annoyed) when Quirin turns out to be incredibly patient and willing to give him as many chances as he needs. In response, Ben acts out and does everything he can think of to convince Quirin that he’s rotten to the core, but nothing works.

Ben doesn’t want to get his hopes up or let himself get attached. He manages to annoy everyone else: the other villagers, Varian, even Eugene (who visits sometimes), but never Quirin. The most he ever gets out of him is an irritated sigh.

Throughout all of this, Ben is also finding out that he kinda likes helping out on the farm, and he’s pretty good at it, too. He’s very strong for his age, and a fast learner.... except for one thing: he can’t read. The orphanage had tried to teach him, but it never really clicked and they had long since given up on him, so he just never learned, instead relying on pictures and context clues to figure out the meaning of written words. As he continues to grow more attached to Quirin, he starts wanting to be better, to deserve the love and acceptance Quirin is offering him, so his self-consciousness about reading (among other things he doesn’t like about himself) really starts to bug him.

While he's sociable and generally gets along with other children, he does have the flaw of a short temper. So when he's targeted and called out for his apparent lack of academic intelligence, things get ugly, fast, and he gets in a fight. When Quirin asks later what it was about, Ben is reluctant to tell him, and is even less enthused when Quirin later suggests enrolling him in school.

He eventually admits to Quirin that he’s illiterate, expecting to get belittled or even compared to Varian (who is an actual genius and is kind of intimidating to Ben). But Quirin.... he doesn’t care that Ben can’t read, and even offers to help teach him or find him a tutor if he wants to learn. It’s after letting himself be vulnerable and accepting Quirin’s help that Ben starts to wonder if maybe... maybe he has a shot at being part of a real family.

He starts to let himself feel at home in Old Corona, thinking (or rather hoping) he’s found somewhere he belongs... as much as he hates to admit it, he really likes it here. So he tries to keep on the straight and narrow so he can stay longer, even making an effort to be nicer to Varian (who is more than happy to help him with his reading and is the one to introduce him to the Flynn Rider series). For the first time, Ben’s future is looking bright.

Until he loses his temper again.

On a visit to the capital, he passes by his old orphanage and gets in an argument with one of the kids he used to know (and wasn’t on particularly good terms with). The argument quickly gets personal, and then physical, and Ben takes it way too far— by the time the guards arrive on the scene to break it up, the kid Ben was fighting is a bloody, mangled mess, about a minute away from passing out. The guards don’t care what awful things that kid said to Ben; all they care about is that this boy with a history of violence and petty crime just savagely attacked another child, and Ben is swiftly arrested and taken to the dungeons.

At this point, Ben has cooled down enough to realize just how serious his situation really is. Even if they let him out of prison to go back to Quirin, he’s sure this is the last straw and that Quirin won’t want anything to do with him— he’s violent and dangerous, and no matter what he does he can’t seem to stay out of trouble, even when he really does try his best to be good. He hates himself for blowing his one chance at finding a home and family, and consoles himself by thinking that it was only a matter of time and at least the wait is over (boy’s got some raging self-loathing issues if you haven’t noticed).

Varian gets word that Ben’s been arrested and heads down to the dungeons to hear his side of the story, but Ben is too ashamed to even look him in the eye. Ben was told by the guards that, although he won’t be left to rot in the dungeons or thrown onto a prison barge (as per the new regulations regarding juvenile justice), he’ll be sent away to a correctional facility for delinquents— aka, reform school. Ben has no idea what to expect, but based on what the guards have been saying about it (very loudly, just outside his cell), it sounds no better than regular prison.

Varian is having absolutely none of this and contacts Quirin to tell him what’s going on— Quirin is up at the castle within the hour to try and bail Ben out, or at least renegotiate his sentence. However, since Quirin is not yet technically related to Ben— for the past year or so, he’s legally been closer to a parole officer than anything else— the law states that he can’t actually do much to interfere with Ben’s bail or sentence, especially since the boy is a repeat offender and is now classified as a menace to society.

Instead of giving up on the situation, Quirin decides to become Ben’s legal guardian right then and there, whipping out the adoption papers he’s been keeping in his vest for weeks— he’s been wanting to ask Ben if he’d like to be adopted for a while now, but he could never find the right moment. Now seems to be as good a time as any.

It takes a day or two to sort things out (Nigel and Fred both aren’t too keen on releasing a violent criminal for any reason, even if that criminal is like twelve), but Varian is able to pull some strings with Raps and Eugene to give Quirin full guardianship over Ben. Meanwhile, Ben is expecting he'll be shipped off any day now— when he sees Varian come back down to the prison with a guard, he expects it's to say goodbye... not to remove his shackles and lead him back upstairs to the throne room, where Quirin and Rapunzel are waiting beside a stack of paperwork. They only need one more signature to make the adoption official: Ben’s.

Luckily, Varian and Quirin have been helping him practice writing his name, and once he signs, Quirin tosses Raps the bail money (which she had whittled down to like two coins) and they head back home— Ben’s permanent home.

Ben’s story is a result of many many rambles between me and Feen on Discord, and I don’t think we’re gonna be stopping anytime soon— Ben is such a fun OC to flesh out XD

Feen and I are actually running a Q&A for Ben over on Feen’s Instagram story, y’all should go check it out!

#ben #tangled oc #tangled the series #tts ocs #varian #quirin #long post #AJ draws #AJ talks #finnoky

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 3 years

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@dressrosaa and anyone else unfamiliar with pretty little liars, a postmodern tone poem about girlhood and violence, an experiment in storytelling divorced from linear time about how all cops are bastards and dads are even worse, one of the most bafflingly homophobic pieces of media i have ever seen despite the fact that the showrunner for all seven seasons is literally a lesbian like GIRL are you OKAY blink twice for I NEED THERAPY:

pretty little liars tells the story of four friends: spencer hastings (deranged genius/former and future speed addict, perfect); hanna marin (blonde shoplifter/recovering bulimic, an angel we don’t deserve); emily fields (gay swimmer, has no personality but it’s hard to tell if that’s because pll is homophobic or because shay mitchell CANNOT act but is almost hot enough to make up for it); and aria montgomerry (the fucking goddamn worst i know it’s wrong to hold this much hate in my heart for a sixteen year old who spends the ENTIRE show being sexually preyed upon but in my defense it is fiction and frankly barely even that; truly the relationship between pretty little liars and our normal human understanding of narrative is tenuous at best; the point is if aria were real she would be deserving of infinite compassion but she is not so she just sucks). a year after their queen bee alison disappears, her body is found, at which point they all start getting texts from the mysterious “A,” who knows their secrets with NSA-bugging-a-therapist’s-office precision and seems to have nothing to do in life other than to torture them into constantly endangering themselves or betraying each other or doing other horrible things that will then hang over their heads for 800 years.

PLL is sort of like what if a classic dead blonde whodunit has a nightmare octopus baby with jj abrams “mystery box” storytelling spliced together with a sense of pacing even more deranged than the magicians at its most unhinged; the reason i make so many jokes about its lack of interest in physical spacetime is because it’s technically canon that two and a half entire seasons, during which among other things spencer has a nervous breakdown and an addiction relapse and goes to rehab and then gets out of rehab T W I C E, takes place between the first week of school and thanksgiving break. it is not by any means a “good” show and it’s pretty clear that any “ideas” in it were there by accident, but watching 6 seasons in a month was one of the most enthralling television experiences of my life, and it really does love to remind you that no men on earth are good (*except for hanna’s street rat hacker boyfriend caleb played by tyler blackwell whose face makes me feel extremely safe who is the most perfect dreamboat in the history of televisual dreamboats). part of its unhinged M. O. is of course keeping you constantly guessing about who “A” is, taking you through like 7000 red herring reveals (along with some real reveals later retconned as beta-A’s working for the real A - i’m telling you this shit is fucking nuts) in which we spend a couple episodes thinking (if we have never watched a television show before) that so and so must be A, only to have their nefarious behavior explained away by some other mechanism.

i’m giving this context because i am taking your inquiry about the throwaway reference i made as a chance to explain my favorite of the A fake-outs, which centers on ezra fitz. who is ezra fitz? he is a demon in human disguise. he beats out craig manning on degrassi for worst fictional boyfriend in the history of teen melodrama. he is a dude who macks on a fifteen-year-old aria montgomery at a bar the weekend before school starts and then turns out to be, surprise! HER ENGLISH TEACHER. because the show, despite being incredible and amazing and iconic, is also very bad, their relationship, which goes on and off the entire seven seasons and winds up endgame, is sold as like a torrid and angsty secret affair, and not the creepiest thing that has ever happened. despite the fact that ezra is the closest the show has to a male lead and played by the second hottest dude on it, in season 4 they were running out of A candidates and started giving us shady clues to ezra’s shadiness, discovered and mostly put together by spencer, who simultaneously was coping with the stress of trying to get into an ivy league college while also saving herself and her friends, all of whom take turns sharing one brain cell leaving her to do all the thinking, from the constant assault of a blackmailing emotional terrorist who at this point has also tried to kill them several times. one time aria winds up in a box on a train next to a dead body and also it’s halloween and adam lambert is performing on the train, god when riverdale season 1 was good i thought riverdale was like what if pretty little liars but on purpose but with the benefit of hindsight clearly PLL had what riverdale fucking WISHES it could.

in order to deal, spencer has fallen on her old pill-popping ways (for, just to reiterate, the second time after leaving a mental institution in the span of like 10 weeks), and JUST as she is on the verge of really PROVING that their english teacher is A, she suffers a stimulant-induced psychotic break i.e. gives the show their framing device for doing a Theme Episode around the theme of Film Noir, where everything is in black and white and everyone talks funny. you can watch a clip here to get the flavor. sidebar at this point alison has appeared to every single character i think and it’s like still fully a mystery whether they all individually hallucinated her at times of stress or if she’s secretly alive. once again this show owns.

anyway her friends totally freak on spencer when she tells them her theory, because she is literally the only person in town with a brain, but then we get this amazing episode where aria (a child) is at her english teacher’s cabin for the weekend and he’s acting exactly like a serial killer the entire time and she starts to have doubts and has a very tense ski lift ride with him and THEN! THEN what’s amazing is that ezra is NOT A, but in explaining why he has been acting so shady despite not being A they manage to somehow make him not ONLY worse than an english teacher who was fucking his high school student but ALSO make him POSSIBLY WORSE THAN AN ACTUAL MURDERER IMO, because it turns out that he met alison briefly before she died/fake died and then got obsessed with her death and SO he came to town and got a job at the school AND MADE OUT WITH THIS DEAD TEENAGE GIRL’S EQUALLY TEENAGE FRIEND IN THE BAR THAT DAY AND PURSUED A SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH HER AS HER ENGLISH TEACHER.............................................. IN ORDER TO DO RESEARCH FOR A TRUE CRIME BOOK. LITERALLY the most incredible thing i have ever witnessed on television. it’s SO incredible and PLL is SO far from being what you could call a “normal” “story” that my love for it is not even diminished by the fact that aria eventually takes him back because this show is evil and she is stupid (again i would NOT say that of an ACTUAL child victimized by an english teacher/pathetic truman capote wannabe, but aria is made up and not around to hear about how bad she sucks and i hate her) (my god she’s so bad guys like you simply cannot watch the show and retain empathy for her it WILL break you). it does help that in between those things ezra gets his dumb ass shot. yeah for “love” or whatever but like he deserved it i’m not gonna complain.

anyway i hope that helps clarify matters. just to stress the important part, this is not in the top 10 most deranged things that happened on this show. one time A snuck into a dentist’s office and knocked hanna out with laughing glass and implanted a tiny strip of paper in her gums which when the liars extracted it later read DEAD GIRLS DON’T SMILE. another time for a fashion show they were getting dressed up and one of them realized she was wearing a corset made of human finger-bones. they all go to jail because they have been framed but then on the way to jail they get kidnapped in an underground bunker styled to look like their childhood bedroom where A makes them milgram experiment each other for three weeks. watching this show will literally change the structures of your brain. i heard it’s finally legal in oregon now.

#pll

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mercurygray · 3 years

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Making Of Featurette - Build An OC

Some of you may have seen my post yesterday about how to introduce an OC and met my new gal, Phyl, who seems to have broken a land speed record on acquiring fans.

The challenge posed yesterday - or more, the question - was how to introduce an original character, but it was also sort of a fun exercise for me to take a look at my process for creating a character from scratch at the same time.

There was some discussion about whether including the Toccoa training sequence was necessary, and while that applies to a large number of BoB OCs, many of whom find themselves included in the unit for various and sundry reasons, it doesn't apply to all of them, so part of the spec was also to create someone to whom that rule wouldn’t apply.

But why ask that question? The opening scenes at Toccoa serve a specific storytelling purpose - they establish the relationship between Sobel and his men, paint a picture of a difficult training program, and create an environment to explain why these men bonded like they did.

The larger issue here, then, isn't about whether training was important, but rather 'Have your given your character believable context and backstory and set them up for success within the narrative?' For some original characters who are being included in the unit, that context and their integration is essential to the story. For others, that context will need to come from somewhere else.

We also talked about a character's 'purpose' within the narrative. For most of my fics, I start with a specific romantic purpose in mind, but I didn't have one of those here, so I started with a wartime service - the WAAF - and a name. I used common 1920s UK name lists and a random name generator to assemble some possibilities. Having a name to roll around with helps a little, sometimes and can change, too!

The Women's Auxiliary Air Force fills a wide variety of roles within the RAF, but a great number of jobs for women are in technical positions, learning new technologies like radar and range-finding. Assignments at stations closer to the channel would be much busier than those further inland, which solves two problems. One, it means my OC is closer to Aldbourne, which is in Wiltshire, well out of the way, and two, a sleepy station allows for much less technical knowledge because I don't have to describe people actually using the equipment they're seated next to.

So - Air Aux, very technical, (so she's smart) slow assignment (so she's either not good at her job or she asked to be here?). People get bored all the time at work, so they bring stuff to do. My OC needed some stuff. I had a thought that the British Intelligence Services solved a recruitment problem by putting out an advertisement for people who enjoyed solving crosswords. This was a covert way to get in people who were interested in language and could see patterns and think critically. They're cheap, they're published in a lot of newspapers, they're a good way to pass time on a long shift.

Puzzles are always better with a freind, so I started writing some dialogue between unnamed OFC #1 and OFC #2, later Phyllis and Bernice.

Unkempt women, nine letters.

Us.

I think that leaves us a bit short, I said nine letters. Slatterns! Right, thirty five down, a sticker that doesn't know it's been licked - oh, a stamp.

Why do you bother asking?

Because I'm trying to be sociable, and it's helping keep me awake.

Starting in conversation is helpful to me only because people don’t exist in a vacuum - you can find out more about them, I have found, in group settings, than trying to build them away from all human contact.

As I started writing this dialogue, it came out that Phyl (reading the clues) was really good at puzzles (smart again), and Bernice, her friend, wasn't. Bernice asked why Phyl hadn't done something with that, and that question got me thinking - maybe the reason Phyl didn't go into codebreaking was because they didn't want her - because she's of a slightly lower social class. One of the books about codebreakers is called The Debs of Bletchley Park for the simple reason that a lot of upper class debutantes ended up getting posts there because they knew someone.

I fiddled around with some backstory and dropped some references in for flavor, though I'm still not sure where she's from - in my head, Phyl still speaks with an RP accent. I thought about making her from Yorkshire (thank you, All Creatures Great and Small) but McCray is a Scottish name, so her father or grandfather might have immigrated, probably for work, so I considered Hull (boat-building) Sheffield (mining) and Manchester (manufacturing) as possible cities. National Service could be and often was a great mixer of classes in the UK, and allowed women to do and see things that wouldn't have been possible before the war, so a young woman from a working class background could make something of herself with hard work.

Though this didn't make it into the sketch, the magazine I used for the crossword, MacCleans, is a periodical from Canada. I thought about putting in a reference to one or more of the pilots on their base being from Canada, but in the end it didn't work, so the reference got cut. There's actually a story in that particular issue (April 1943) about Bomber Command. A reference to other pilots or officers on base would give me some more characters to play with in later scenes, and possibly set up a romantic entanglement, if the Canadian officer gave her the magazine as a gift, knowing she liked puzzles.

I didn't do too much with this in specific, but as the scene played out, I got the sense that Phyl is older than Bernie by a few years, and has also been in the services longer - she's seen more, heard more, and done more, and is used to this life. And we sort of see that in the scene - she's prepared for the night shift with her crossword and her cup of tea, whereas Bernie is fidgeting.

In a cursory look through tumblr, I found a quote from Sergeant Anne Lowe, talking about the Battle of Britain, saying "You always knew when they were dead when they took their names off the board. (…) There were so many. They mourned each other so simply and with no fuss and went off rushing into the air again. Now at last, we began to know and understand a little and now we knew war. Always there was a sound of weeping. Every day some girl was weeping."

So, someone who had been longer in the service, who had lived through life at one of those busier coastal installations, had lived through the Battle of Britain, had watched a lot of men she'd danced with come back changed or not come back at all, would have a very different perspective than a young woman who just joined and comes with none of that baggage, and is anxious about being on a slow assignment when she could be doing something much more exciting.

The ending line of the scene - "She would learn. They all did, eventually" was supposed to be a hat tip to the fact that something has happened to Phyllis in the past, regarding boyfriends or making new friends, which would hopefully pay out when she meets the promised Americans in the next scene.

So. Started with some dialogue, let the two characters in the scene feel each other out a bit and learned more about them in the process, tried to come up with some backstory that would support them and a story going forward, tried to give them some context within the story and the larger picture of the war, hopefully gave the reader some reasons to come back for the next chapter.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

More on that Anne Lowe quote:>> http://spitfiresite.com/2010/09/battle-of-britain-1940-losses.html

#director's commentary #phyl mccray #1940s girl gang #meet my originals #original character

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