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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #headboard #game suit

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theraspberryler · 3 years

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IRL Benchtrio Tickle Fic (creative, I know)

Welp, here you go! This is my first ever fic, and I’m actually kinda happy with how it turned out.

Summary: Ranboo’s staying with Tubbo in the UK, and Tommy goes over to visit them. However, Ranboo ends up finding himself in a,, mood, of sorts. He overthinks the situation too much and ends up freaking out, but luckily, he’s got two awesome friends who are there for him! (hurt/comfort)

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then move on please~

TW - Panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ranboo had been in the UK with Tubbo for a couple days now, and the two of them have been having a blast, the pure joy and excitement of finally getting to see each other in person had given them the energy to keep going constantly over the past two days, with them doing multiple streams and other activities. They had decided to meet up with Tommy that day, planning to record a vlog for Tommy’s vlog channel, but the past nights of practically no rest had caught up to the two, and when Tommy arrived at Tubbo’s house and saw how exhausted they appeared, he insisted they take the day to rest. They could record the vlog later, it wasn’t a big deal.

Of course, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately protested, but once Tommy made up his mind he was a force to be reckoned with. Eventually they settled to spend the day relaxing at Tubbo’s house, no cameras, and Ranboo had to admit, it was pretty nice. The three of them hadn’t had the chance to just talk without the stress of cameras being in their faces for quite a while, and they all needed the chance to just mess around and act like kids. No need to worry about carefully choosing their words to avoid any discourse.

Tommy was currently sitting in the chair at Tubbo’s desk, aimlessly spinning in circles as he recalled the events of the previous day, waving his hands around with an animated expression. Tubbo and Ranboo were seated on opposite ends of Tubbo’s bed, Tubbo laughing at Tommy’s over dramatic retelling of,,, something. Despite his best efforts, Ranboo couldn’t seem to pay attention to Tommy’s words. He told himself that he didn’t know what was causing his fidgety mood, but he knew he was lying to himself.

Earlier that day when Tommy first arrived, he shoved the door open with his usual flair, and loudly announced his arrival. Obviously excited to see him, Tubbo and Ranboo rushed over to greet him. Ranboo had instantly gathered Tommy up into a hug and held him close. And despite the show Tommy put up of not liking Ranboo, he latched onto the other as well, though of course not without poking fun at the other for being so eager to greet him, and a few playfully exchanged insults. That had been great, the thought brought a smile to his face. The part that had Ranboo squirming in his seat right now, was the way Tommy scribbled his nails into his sides after not being able to come up with a witty comeback to one of Ranboo’s playful jabs. It was brief, and after laughing at the squawk Ranboo let out good-naturedly, he dropped it. But, it was more than enough to send Ranboo’s brain spiralling into a lee mood, which only intensified as the playful atmosphere in the room continued.

Ranboo had told Tubbo before about this,,, liking of his before, and he had responded with only positivity, and he knew deep down that Tommy wouldn’t judge him either, but he still tried to forcefully shove the mood down, still telling himself that it was weird, and that Tommy and Tubbo would surely mock him if he admitted to them how he was feeling.

The only problem was, while Ranboo was lost in thought, the other two had noticed how unusually quiet he had been, and Tommy paused his storytelling, asking if he was alright. At the attention being turned to him, Ranboo froze up, and his nerves kicked in, but he still tried to play it off.

“I-I uhm, y-yeah, I’m fine.” Ranboo cursed himself for his lousy attempt to reassure them, and the other two clearly didn’t buy it.

“You sure, ‘Boo? If we’re doing something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell us.” Curse Tubbo for being so damn sweet, and those big, worried eyes that were carefully observing him. Ranboo fidgeted in place, refusing to make eye contact with either in the room. He was silent, getting increasingly frustrated with himself. Why couldn’t he come up with a response? Why did he have to be so bad at social interaction? This is so stupid for me to get worked up about, just say something!

As Ranboo remained silent, Tommy and Tubbo’s concern for him only grew, and Tommy pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in. making his way over to sit on the bed next to him. Seeing how uncomfortable Ranboo seemed, they didn’t push him to talk anymore, and both shuffled around to sit on either side of him. Ranboo risked a glance to his side, and, catching his gaze, Tommy offered him a kind smile, slowly reaching out to softly grasp his hand. And, oh shit, Ranboo could feel that familiar burning behind his eyes, and he quickly pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face into them. God, why were they always so sweet to him? He was getting so worked up and upset over a stupid mood, and couldn’t even manage to say anything to them! In his frustration with himself, the tears in his eyes began to overflow, and his breath hitched.

Tubbo pressed up closer to him, bringing his arms up to wrap around Ranboo, before he paused.

“Hey, ‘Boo, it's alright. Can I touch you?” Ranboo managed a nod at that, and Tubbo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. It was a little awkward with Ranboo being so much taller than him, but the embrace still served its purpose and Ranboo melted into his touch. Tommy brought his free hand up to Ranboo’s back, rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Ranboo, it's okay. We’re here. Breathe with me, yeah?” He hadn’t even noticed how his breathing had sped up, but he allowed Tommy to guide him through the panic attack, as he counted their breaths, in and out, moving the hand on his back up and down along with the rhythm.

After a few minutes of counting and failed attempts, Ranboo had managed to considerably calm down. In that time, the three of them had managed to maneuver into a laying down position, both Ranboo and Tubbo practically laying on top of Tommy, nearly crushing him, but somehow, they were comfortable. After a couple more moments of them all breathing together, Tubbo broke the silence.

“Hey, ‘Boo, you think you could manage to tell us what happened? You don’t have to, but it would help Tommy and I be able to help you.” Ranboo took a deep, stuttering breath, before he opened his mouth to speak. His voice was rough and scratchy, but he pushed on anyway.

“I-Its stupid, really. I was just in a certain, u-uh,, m-mood, and got frustrated with myself. I-I’m fine, really, I was just upset that I couldn’t say what I was thinking.” Tubbo caught on to what Ranboo meant by “mood” pretty quickly, Ranboo having told him about it before. Tommy still didn’t know what he meant by that, but pushed on anyways, and spoke up.

“That's not stupid at all, not being able to say what you’re thinking can be really frustrating and scary. You did a great job just now, though, with telling us what happened, I’m proud of you for that.” Ranboo whined at the slight praise, though he couldn’t deny how Tommy’s words and reassurances made him feel better.

Tubbo forced himself to sit up, stretching his arms and rubbing his eyes.

“Why don’t we put on a movie? And, uh,, if you wanted to um,, do something about that mood, ‘Boo, we could. Or not! Whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t wanna push you! We could just watch the movie!” Tubbo was hesitant to offer; not because he didn’t want to help Ranboo with his mood, oh no, he just didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like he had to.

At the offer, Ranboo felt his face heat up. Wow, and to think that he could have just gotten that so easily. Ranboo pushed the mildly self-deprecating thought away, and shyly nodded in response, hiding his face in his hands. Tommy, still confused as ever, just watched their interaction, not saying anything.

Tubbo gently pulled one of Ranboo’s hands away from his face, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Is it alright if I explain to Tommy, ‘Boo? You know he would never judge you.” Ranboo looked away and nervously bit his lip, but nodded after a few moment’s hesitation, pulling his hand back. Tommy looked between the two, his confused expression growing concerned, both because he was worried this “mood” Ranboo was in was something bad, and because Ranboo had thought that he would judge him for it. Tubbo noticed Tommy’s concern, however, and was quick to set him straight as he guided Ranboo to lay down on the bed of his back.

“Don’t worry, Toms, it's nothing bad. Ranboo explained it to me over Discord one night. I’m pretty sure he called it a ‘lee mood,’ which basically just means that he's in the mood to be tickled!” Tubbo didn’t miss the flustered squeak that Ranboo let out when he said the word, and smiled fondly at him, even though Ranboo couldn’t see it, since he was covering his face.

Tommy, upon hearing that indeed nothing was wrong and this “mood” was something as sweet and innocent as that, instantly lit up.

“Awe, Ranboo, that's so sweet! There's nothing wrong with that at all! You want us to tickle you, big man? Is that alright?” Ranboo squeaked again, and thought this just may be the most flustered he's ever been, but it’s not a bad feeling. Definitely not.

He couldn’t even attempt to hide how happy Tommy’s positive response made him, and at the light, teasing tone in Tommy’s voice towards the end sent tingles down his spine. Unable to find his words, Ranboo just nodded in response, curling up slightly. He let out yet another squeak as he felt someone’s hands on his sides, unable to hold in his anticipatory giggles even though the hands weren’t even moving yet. He shyly peaked out from behind his hands to see who had placed their hands on him, only to immediately hide again as the other two cooed at his reaction.

“Giggling already, ‘Boo? I haven’t even done anything!” Ranboo shook his head in response, his giggles heightening in pitch.

“Dohohon’t tehehease!” Tubbo pouted playfully at Ranboo, not that he could see him.

“Awe, why not? It's fun teasing you, because I get to see your adorable little flush and hear your sweet giggles!” Ranboo only whined louder, causing both lers to laugh.

Tubbo began to lightly massage little circles into Ranboo’s sides where his hands were laying, occasionally scratching his nails into the sensitive skin. Ranboo, his sides being a fairly bad spot and already being wound up from the teasing and anticipation, let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, arching his back.

“Whoa, did you see that Toms? His sides must be sooo ticklish!” Tubbo snickered.

As much as he was enjoying watching Tubbo tickle Ranboo to bits, Tommy decided he was bored of just watching, and would find a spot as well. After a couple moments of consideration, Tommy fluttered his fingers over Ranboo’s neck, gasping excitedly at the squeaky giggles the spot produced. Ranboo shook his head back and forth and scrunched up his shoulders, still keeping his hands over his face.

“C’mon, ‘Boo, stay still for me, yeah? It’s hard for me to tickle you when you’re moving around all over the place.”

Ranboo still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it had been such a long time since he’d been tickled, he honestly wasn’t sure where he was ticklish, or even if he was ticklish at all anymore.

So when Tommy’s fingers glided over his ears by accident, even he was surprised by the shrill shriek that he let out. The sound startled the other two into stopping for a moment, and Ranboo felt himself flush darker. He was about to start apologising when suddenly Tommy’s fingers were back to his ears, tracing his nails around the shells of them.

“Holy shit ‘Boo, I didn’t even know someone’s ears could be so ticklish,” Tommy giggled.

“SHUHut uhuhuhup!” Ranboo’s plea fell on deaf ears, as Tubbo picked up his tickling at Ranboo’s sides.

“No fair! How come Tommy gets the good spot?” Tubbo playfully complained, a childish pout on his face. Tommy let out his signature barking laugh, and stuck his tongue out at the other.

“Sucks to suck, bitch boy!” Tubbo just huffed in response, deciding to try out a different spot; maybe he could find a spot worse than his ears.

Ranboo would normally laugh at them and play along with their childish antics, but something about how they were talking about tickling him so casually was extremely flustering to him.

“Guhuhuys! NohoHOHO!” Tubbo’s fingers had pressed into the divots between Ranboo’s ribs, vibrating them in place. Ranboo threw his head back in laughter, his hands finally leaving his face to instead latch onto Tubbo’s wrists, though he didn’t push them away.

Tubbo grinned victoriously, flashing Tommy a cocky smirk as Ranboo began kicking his legs out underneath him. Tommy just growled in response, immediately searching for a new spot. He experimentally squeezed at Ranboo’s thigh, being rewarded with another hiccup, but not much else. Tommy pouted as Tubbo cackled at him, narrowing his eyes at the shorter.

“‘Sucks to suck,’ huh Toms?” Tubbo mocked, eyes lighting up as he reached Ranboo’s upper ribs, causing Ranboo to let out a louder hiccup than the others and a squeak.

Ranboo couldn’t even attempt to form proper words now, between how hard he was laughing and how flustered he was, and he was enjoying every second of it. After a bit longer, Tubbo began to slow down his fingers, allowing Ranboo to take a breather.

As Ranboo began to recover, Tommy smirked as he got an idea. He gracelessly shoved Tubbo off of Ranboo, earning him an undignified squawk from the shorter, before he sat himself on Ranboo’s hips and unleashed all ten of his fingers along his belly.

Ranboo jolted like he was electrocuted, not expecting the sudden attack, before snorting and falling into loud belly laughter. As Tommy crowed victoriously, Tubbo couldn’t even bring himself to be upset that he lost their little ‘competition,’ instantly cooing at Ranboo.

“Awwe, does someone have a ticklish belly?” After a moment of violent thrashing, Ranboo went limp, and just accepted his fate. Even though he was laughing so hard his belly was starting to hurt, and he could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t deny how good this felt. To be so carefree around his friends, not even trying to muffle or contain his reactions as he snorted and laughed to his heart's content.

“NAHAHAHA- *snort* T-TOHOHOMS!” Tommy laughed as his name was called out, pulling his hands away from Ranboo’s belly, flopping on the bed next to him. Tubbo climbed back up on the bed as well, laying himself across the other two. Tommy grunted from Tubbo’s weight being added onto him, and pulled Ranboo into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Ranboo buried his face into Tubbo’s hair, trying to regulate his breathing. After a minute of comfortable (almost) silence and Ranboo’s giggling still hadn’t let up, Tubbo laughed, rubbing his shoulder.

“You alright, Boo?” Ranboo nodded, his head falling back against the bed, taking deep breaths.

“Y-yeahahaha, I’m goohohod.” Tommy fondly rolled his eyes as the giggling still didn’t completely stop, pulling the two closer to him. Tubbo shifted around, wrapping himself around Ranboo, before relaxing and closing his eyes. The only two followed shortly after him.

“Softyinnit.”

“Shut the fuck up Tubbo.”

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #lee!ranboo #ler!tubbo #ler!tommy #ler!tommyinnit

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popopretty · 3 years

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Storm Bringer Spoilers (10)

A small part from the Epilogue where Chuuya and Dazai met up with Dr. Wollstonecraft. It was from one of the translation requests I got long ago and this part is fun, everyone is so adorable, so here it is.

Feel free to retranslate if you want. Just note that I am not a native speaker in either Japanese or English so I make mistakes sometimes.

Chuuya went back to the pier, and as he was about to get on his bike, a black car slowly approached him. The window at the back seat slowly came down and the person inside called out, "Chuuya".

That was Dazai. It was a rare sight. He had his black suit and his tie on, the formal attire for guests greeting.

"Work is in five minutes."

Chuuya and Dazai were standing under the gangway of a luxury passenger ship.

That was a ridiculously expensive fancy liner. The ship that Shirase had boarded before that was incomparable to it, both in size and materials. Its paint was chalk-white without a spot, the five-story guest rooms were decorated like the finest hotels. No matter where the passengers went, they would be accompanied by a skilled guide on board. The ship was also known for its navigational capability. Even when it sailed at twice the speed of an ordinary ship, its turbulence was less than one tenth of a normal one.

That ship was called "The Boswellian".

The government's passenger ship that only high-ranking government officials were allowed to board.

The gangway was lowered and delegation descended in front of Chuuya and Dazai's eyes.

First were the guardsmen in black suits. They cautiously looked around at all directions. The bulges around their waists showed that they were all carrying guns.

After that came some bearded men who looked like officials. Old, capable, with gray brown eyes that showed no hints of what they were thinking. Their clothes were of top-quality. A man carrying a cane with a golden spiral pattern on it was pushing the crew who was trying to help him off board with the tip of his cane, so crudely as if he was chasing away a stray dog on the street.

"The noble demons of England have showed up." Dazai murmured in a voice that only Chuuya who was standing next to him could hear.

Those people were high-ranking officials of the British government who came here for the post-incident investigation, the “Assassination King incident" that occurred through multiple levels of state secrets. A team of investigators were dispatched to Japan to investigate this serious case that went beyond a normal criminal case, and report to the government. And Port Mafia had come forward to welcome the team and cooperate with them in the investigation, as a party to the case.

Illegal organization Port Mafia is in charge of welcoming the investigation team of the British government.

It was an odd situation, but there was a certain rationale and calculation of the Boss behind it.

First of all, the one who had the whole picture of the incident this time was neither the Ministry of Foreign Affairs nor the police, but Port Mafia. As from the beginning, the European governments had been trying to hide it completely from the Japanese government. Also from the Port Mafia side, they also had a reason to keep a close eye on the movements of the mighty British government.

That was because they suspected that these people might try to eliminate every person of Port Mafia who was involved in this incident to cover up the "Assasination King incident" that arose from the state secrets.

Obviously, Port Mafia had no intention to reveal the truth and the secrets of the case. But it was hard to tell how much the British would believe in words of a criminal organization. That was why Dazai was sent to greet them. If they really had the intention to eliminate the people involved, Dazai would have to negotiate to stop that from happening. If the negotiation failed, then Port Mafia would have to eliminate the investigation team before the other party had the chance to eliminate them. That was why Chuuya was accompanying him. Depending on the other party's actions, this might turn into an interstate war that involved the whole Port Mafia.

“Well, let the fun deception game begin.”, Dazai said excitedly as he headed towards the investigation team.

The guard men immediately reacted to the person approaching, their hands reaching for their waists where the guns were.

“Thank you for coming all the way here, ladies and gentlemen of the great British Empire.” Dazai's attitude changed completely as he greeted the guests with a fluent and courteous voice. “You must be the members of the investigation team? I know this is sudden but may I ask who your representative is?”

“Representative?” the guardsman whom Dazai directed this question to looked rather confused and tilted his head. "This is the technical advisory unit of the investigation team so if you say representative, I think that might be Dr. Wollstonecraft...”

Dr. Wollstonecraft?

Chuuya tilted his head. He had heard that name somewhere before.

“Aa!” Dazai seemed to get it right away. “I heard that name before. That’s the skilled engineer who designed Investigator Adam Frankenstein, right? Hmm... you must be Dr. Wollstonecraft then?” Dazai followed the gazed of the guardsman and called out to the most dignified and oldest man in the investigation team. He had a shaggy white beard, a receding hairline, and two medals for achievements in the military science sector pinned to his chest.

The old man noticed Dazai’s voice and laughed out cheerfully.

“No no, I’m not Dr. Wollstonecraft. I’m just tagging along. Doctor is... Look! She's getting off the ship right now.”

Dazai and Chuuya followed the old man’s eyes and looked up at the ship’s gangway. At the top of it, an oversized travel suitcase was left there unassisted. Wait...

“Okay. Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Wollstonecraft... Oh so this is the said country? It looks bigger than on the map.”

The small figure that appeared from behind the suitcase, no matter how you looked at her...

“... How old is that?”

That was a little girl.

Blond hair, white blouse. The suitcase was big, but she was also small enough to be completely hidden behind it. She wore a big pair of round glasses that covered half of her face. And on her chest were more than twenty medals for achievements in science.

“Hey hey...” Chuuya made a drawn face.

“Oh! It's getting interesting.” Dazai laughed happily.

The little girl struggled down the gangway. She was holding the oversized suitcase, or rather, clinging onto it as it dragged her downwards.

“Heave ho! I am.. heave-ho... Dr... heave-ho! Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley, heave-ho!”. The girl spoke every time she got off one step, still clinging on to the heavy luggage. “People call me the girl with a genius brain but, heave-ho, those are people who don't have the ability to see the essence of things. Heave-ho! My achievements are thanks to my special skill that make any designs possible. Heave-ho! And because I am a genius.”

“Hey, aren't you going to help her with that heavy luggage?” Chuuya couldn't stand it anymore and asked the bearded old man next to him.

“Hahaha. Doctor is the type of person who doesn't want anyone to touch her luggage.” the old man laughed cheerfully. "Even Her Majesty wouldn't be able to take that from her. Because if we do so, she will start crying and screaming, just like a kid who has gone back 10 years in time."

“If she goes back that much, isn't she gonna end up in her mother’s belly again...?” Chuuya said with a tired face.

“Also, she may look like that, but Doctor was really looking forward to this trip. That case is filled with her favorite essentials for this trip. No-one will be able to take it from her.”

“Old man! Don’t go around talking about me like I am just a normal little girl! I might be short but I will be a full-grown decent adult very soon.... heave-ho!”

Dr. Shelley finally got to the end of the gangway. She wiped off the sweat on her face and fixed her clothes with her hands. “Phew! Nice to meet you again, people of Japan. Well... you are Chuuya-kun right? Thanks for taking care of Adam.”

Upon hearing Adam’s name, Chuuya's face looked like he just shallowed a bitter thing down his throat. "I am not sure." , he then said. "The one who was taken care of was me."

The little girl fixed the big glasses to the middle of her face and stared at Chuuya.

“He died saving me... Doctor, Adam is your best work, right? I'm sorry for breaking it.”

“Hmm.”

Doctor Shelley observed Chuuya from the left, from the right, then stared at him closely from the front. Like she was observing an interesting research subject.

"You are right, Adam is my greatest work." , she said with her arms crossed. “Rather than sending him to a good-for-nothing island country like this for investigation, I’d have him in the lab and continue the research to upgrade him.”

Chuuya listened in silence. His expression was not looking at something in front of him at that moment. What he was seeing was some scenes of the past.

Doctor Shelley cleared her throat like a child then continued, “The best thing about Adam is that, he is equipped with the intelligence to think and judge the situation by himself. In other words, Adam chose to sacrifice himself out of his own will, his own judgement.” Dr. Shelley smiled. “Because you are worth it. I believe in Adam. I appreciate your apology, but it’s not something you need to worry about.”

Chuuya opened his mouth, trying to say something but he couldn't put it into words. Just like a child who had forgotten his way home, he just stood there with a stunned look on his face.

Seeing Chuuya like that, Dazai giggled as if he couldn't do anything about it.

“First off, from the beginning I didn't like the idea of using Adam for such a worthless investigation.” Dr. Shelley crossed her arms, looking sullen. “The government is always like that! They send out machine investigators for missions and when they are done with it, they just blow it up together with all the secret information. Even though we could have got the best test data from interacting with different cultures from those solo missions! Just because it's for the sake of human's life, they think that they can neglect science like that?”

To Chuuya and Dazai’s surprise, Doctor Shelley ordered her subordinate for “that” and had a black tube the length of an arm brought to her.

"That's why, such an ill-natured person like me had installed a detachable sub-processor and non-volatile memory. Without telling the government.” She took out the thing inside the black tube. “In here.”

The thing inside the tube that had the length of an arm, was actually an arm.

That was Adam’s right arm, the arm that Chuuya sent flying and stuck into the ground when he was escaping from inside of the Demonic Beast Guivre.

“This is...” , a question mark appeared on Chuuya’s face. “After the incident, I searched the scene but couldn't find it anywhere. Why is it here?”

“I mean, it's rather obvious to do this, isn't it?” Dr. Shelley put her finger on her huge travel suitcase. After her vital signals were verified, the auto-lock was released.

The figure that came out from the suitcase took the arm. And he said as he was attaching it to himself, “Do you want to hear an Android joke, Chuuya-sama?”

Chuuya stood still in shock. He kept his mouth open in surprise. Finally, he took a breath slowly through that mouth. A deep breath, as deep as he could. Then his expression changed as if he was about to burst.

And he laughed, "Hahaha...!"

#bsd #storm bringer #sb spoilers #bsd spoilers #spoilers #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #mary wollstonecraft #bungou stray dogs

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sunaswife · 3 years

Text

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: <3 thanks for all the support so far

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Thirteen

“Kuroo-San I’m very flattered but in reality I’m seeing someone.” You chuckled awkwardly as you both walked to the lounge after today’s game. “Really?! Since when! About a month ago during the black Jackals game you just said you were a single mom!” He exclaimed. “Well..in reality..I’m trying to make amends with the father of my children. We were both dumb and immature but now since we’re older, we can have a decent conversation. And I still have feelings for him in a way and he’s already confessed..so...” you scratched the back on your head. “Have you accepted his confession..?” He asked. “Well..I mean I kind of changed the subject..” you replied awkwardly. “Poor guy..” he put his hand on his chest as if he felt the pain. “Well it’s not right to pressure someone into going on a date with them so I’m sorry. I was out of line. And I hope everything goes well between you and Rintarou.” He said with a soft smile. He patted your head and walked away down the other hall, you just stood there dumbfounded. How does he know Rin is the dad..?

You haven’t checked social media or sports news so you’re not sure if people already know. You made you way into the lounge and opened your small locker. You took out your purse and walked to your car, you tried walking as fast as possible to avoid talking to people and when you were in the comfort of your car you took out your phone.

Your eyes widened at the amount of phone calls and messages Rin sent. You didn’t even have a chance to read the messages since you decided to call back Rin and wonder what is going on. “It’s about time you answer.” He immediately gritted, he obviously sounded pissed. “Excuse me?” You immediately said with such confusion.

Does he seriously think he can get away with talking to you like that?

“I said it’s about time you fucking answered. Why weren’t you answering my calls or messages?” He asked. “I was obviously working.” You said in a duh tone. “Is something wrong?” You asked. “YES something is wrong! My son almost died and I didn’t know what to do!”

Your heart dropped. He almost...died..? “W-wait—“ you shook your head. “What do you mean he almost died?” You asked. “He had an allergy attack and I had to use an epipen. I didn’t know what to do at the hospital. I rarely had any information. You never told me if the kids had insurance or anything.” “Is Rini okay?” You immediately asked. “Yes he’s fine. But you didn—“

“I’m on my way. For the next eight hours, think before you speak, okay? Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” You warned. “Whatever.” He muttered and hung up. Immediately your heart clenched and you threw your phone at the passenger seat. You rubbed your face and leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel.

“What the fuck.” You sighed. Throughout the drive back to Hyogo your hands began shaking thinking about your kids and Rin. The kids went through something traumatic, and you weren’t there to help them or to protect them. What kind of mother are you? You wanted to slap yourself so hard, jump off a cliff. Receive some sort of punishment for being such a stupid mother and trusting Rin with your children.

After a few hours, your makeup needed a touch up, your hair was a mess for running your hands through your hair hoping your son is okay. Your eyes felt droopy. You’ve only slept a good six hours between drives and it’s way past midnight. The sun began to rise and you finally passed the billboard welcoming you to the hyogo prefecture. You went to the hospital Rin said they were at and you quickly parked and made your way inside.

The poor lady in the office seemed startled at your appearance, your clothes were wrinkled, and your shirt was untucked and unbuttoned from the top, you had bags under your eyes, you were a whole mess. When she gave the room number you slipped off your heels and began jogging to your location. The door was opened so you peeked in and saw your daughter playing with her fox plush on the uncomfortable couch chair.

It was like she sensed you so she looked up and you made eye contact with your little girl. Her eyes immediately watered and she hopped off the chair crying. “Mommy!” She sobbed and you immediately bent down to pick her up. You held her close and her grip tightened around your shoulders. “Rini doesn’t feel good..” she mumbled in your ear. “I know baby, I know.” You answered and dropped your heels by the entrance.

You made you way inside and saw Rin hunched over on the bed sleeping. He was holding Rini’s hand who was also asleep. He looked alright and you sighed in relief. “Have you slept, Akira?” You asked and she nodded. “I slept with Rini, but grandma wanted me to go back home with her. But Rini needed me. He’s my twin.” She wiped her eyes and slightly pulled away. You neared the other side of the bed and pulled the lounge chair closer so you can sit. Akira was on your left thigh with her head still on your shoulder. You looked at Rini sleeping and you brushed some hair out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes and he smiled lazily, “I missed you momma..” he mumbled. “I missed you too. I came as fast as I could.” You assured. “I was so scared.” He admitted. “I know..and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” Your eyes began to water. “Don’t cry mommy.... then I’ll cry..” Rini held your hand with his free hand.

Your wiped under your eyes with the sleeve of your blazer to stop the tears from falling and you smiled again. “Okay I won’t cry.” You said and released a breath. “Can you sing me a song?” Akira asked in your neck, “Yeah I want a song too, please.” Rini pouted and you nodded. They had a favorite song from a certain show that they enjoyed the most. You began to sing softly and Rini squeezed your hand and Akira began to fall asleep again.

I always thought I might be bad

Now I'm sure that it's true

'Cause I think you're so good

And I'm nothing like you

Look at you go

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special

You saw as Rini’s eyes began to close so he could fall back to sleep, you heard snoring right in your ear and realized Akira knocked out as well. “You have a beautiful voice.” Rin said softly as he rested his head on the side of his arm. “Sorry that I woke you up.” You quickly apologized. “No it’s fine..” he yawned and slowly sat up. He winced slightly, “Damn I need to see a chiropractor.” He muttered and you released a small chuckle. “Me too.” You said.

“So is Rini okay? What happened?” You asked and he sighed and looked into your eyes. “My mom got some burgers from a restaurant where peanut oil is used. She didn’t know Rini was allergic and I didn’t check the bag.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You raised your voice and his eyes widened. “Your mom almost killed our son and you blame me for leaving you without any information?” You asked and he looked down guilty. “She didn’t kn—“

“Of course she doesn’t know because all day she was acting like a conceited bitch instead of being a grandmother to her grandkids. She even called me a whore—“

“No she didn’t.” He immediately interrupted. “She didn’t because you stopped her. But that’s what she thinks right? I model for Hana’s company to support her and to build up my self esteem and now I’m a whore? And you had the audacity to talk to me so rudely when I didn’t do anything. If you’re going to be treating me like that then there’s the fucking door. You understand? Never again will I be disrespected by a man.” You said and he had no words.

“You make it seem like I did it on purpose. I was sleep deprived and scared. I felt like I was going to throw up.” Rin squinted his narrow eyes.

“Do you have any idea what I felt when I got a call eight hours away that my son almost died? Imagine how I feel when he calls out to me and I’m not there. I feel like I failed them as a mom, my chest hurts and I’ve always been there. Always. And now I leave them in your hands and something happens and I can’t get there soon? I almost had a panic attack on the drive!” You exclaimed and he stayed silent. He didn’t want to continue fighting. He’s sure the kids are awake and listening to everything.

“I’m sorry.” He said and looked at his hands. He felt defeated and disappointed. You shouldn’t be so hard on him, it’s been less than a month since he took on this role. “Hey look at me.” You called softly, he looked up and you made eye contact once more. “I’m sorry for going off on you like this, I’m just as upset and afraid as you are and I’m sure you haven’t slept much.”

“I could say the same for you, you look like shit.” He cracked a tiny smile and you rolled your eyes with a giggle. “So did your mom eventually decide to be a grandma or she still hates me so she’s not getting close?” You asked. “She went back home to bring some clothes and then to get us some breakfast. I sent her a screenshot of my notes.” He said and you nodded. You obviously still felt uneasy with her, but they deserve a grandma and if she’s being civil you have no reason to take them away from her.

There was a knock at the door and you and Rin immediately turned your heads. “Oh you must be mom..” the doctor said. “Yeah I’m mom.” You said. She explained that Rini stayed longer than usual because he is a child. After a severe allergic reaction there can be aftershocks hours after the person receives treatment and that can lead to a seizure. She praised Rin for quick thinking and following proper steps to insure his child’s safety.

When the doctor left, Rin’s mom waltzes in and she freezes when she sees you. You take a deep breath and release and decide that it’s best to keep quiet. You wouldn’t want a clique animosity between you and your maybe future mother in law.

“I brought Rini some spare clothes.” She said as she opened Rin’s old gym bag. “He doesn’t own that jacket.” You pointed out. Her face flushed slightly, “I know..but this was Rintarou’s favorite jacket when he was his age..I thought it would be nice to wear. I have a lot of Rin’s old baby and child clothes.” She admitted softly, almost scared that you would snap any minute. And you would, so she was wise to walk on eggshells.

“Okay that’s fine.” You gave in. You helped Rini get dressed while Rin was talking to the doctor and getting ready to check out. You walked barefoot down the hall with your pink heels in your right hand, while Akira held your left hand. Rini was holding hands with Suna and Rin’s mom was holding their stuffed animals. She trailed behind you four and saw how you and Rin swung akira with you arms, her little giggles filled the hall releasing serotonin to the patients and nurses nearby.

“Momma aren’t you gonna put your shoes on?” Rini asked, “My feet hurt and I don’t feel like falling.” “But it’s hot outside, you can burn your feet.” Rin spoke up, “I think I’ll be fine.” You assured. He rolled his eyes and let go of the kids. You were about to step on the asphalt of the parking lot after checking both sides and all of a sudden you’re being knocked back from your legs and carried bridal style. “RINTAROU PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT.”

“Nah.”

The kids giggled at their parents funny behavior, you kicked the air and squirmed but his grip tightened. “Do you really wanna get down?” He asked and you said yes. He pretended to drop you and you gripped onto his shirt for dear life and he started laughing. “I swear to God I am going to kick you where the sun doesn’t shine.” You muttered. He finally put you down but you were so distracted you were already at your car.

Karin took the kids to her car since the car seats are in there, so now it’s just you and Rin. “You give me a headache.” You told him. “But you love this headache—“ both your eyes widened and he stopped, “—sorry.” He immediately apologized.

You turned away to yawn and you muttered an it’s okay. He opened the car door for you just like old times, much to your dismay and he closed it when you entered. You put on your seatbelt and he fixed the seat and complained at how tiny you were. He was expecting you to fight back and bicker but you were already asleep.

He leaned forward and fixed your head so you wouldn’t hurt your neck. He started the car and began driving back home. He saw the two empty cups of coffee and some energy bar wrappers on the floor. The phone wasn’t playing any music but the volume was up to 20. You must have been so tired driving all last night and the night before for nine straight hours. No wonder you blasted music to keep you up and drank coffee.

He soon made it home and tried waking you up, but you didn’t budge. Not even shaking you work. You were a muttering unconscious mess when he helped you out and carried you bridal style once again. His mom let him in and he told Akira to unroll the futon in the living room since he couldn’t take you upstairs. He successfully placed you down and helped take of your blazer, he thanked god you were wearing an undershirt thanks to akira checking (no somnophilia shit here atm) and he helped unbutton your dress shirt so you wouldn’t feel hot. He put a light blanket over you. “Can’t believe I have to get you ready for bed like a child.” He muttered with a shake of his head. “Silence bottom, it’s mimi’s time.” You said in your sleep.

The kids ate their breakfast in the car as well as Karin. They were already awake and playing with Chewy outside again. “Mom.” He called, “Yes?” She asked from the kitchen. “Can I borrow your makeup wipes?” He asked. She smiled softly, looking out the window to check on the kids. “Yeah go ahead, they’re in the bathroom.”

Rin came back with the wipes and began wiping the makeup off your face. He didn’t want to press too hard to hurt you. But damn, this makeup was hard to take off. Finally you slept comfortably without makeup, without any interruptions. “Sweet dreams, love.” He smiled and moved the hair away from your face.

He stood up and grabbed the bag with all the kids school stuff and sat in the picnic table outside. “Alright you rascals time for school!” He yelled and the kids yelled an okay and went to join their dad.

“Hey dad..” Rini said. “What’s up?” Rin looked at his son, “I love you a lot. To infinity and beyond. Mama says that’s called unconditional love.” He said and Rin smiled with a nod. “Exactly, and I love you two unconditionally as well.” He said and Akira peered up from her work sheet. “Do you love mom unconditionally?” She asked Rintarou.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Fun facts:

Someone asked me to do fun facts and if I had any for future chapters so here I go

The song YN sang is love like you from Steven universe but this is my fav version.

‘Mimi’s’ means sleeping time, Akira didn’t know how to say sleeping when she was a toddler so she would say Mimi’s cuz uncle Oikawa would say “es tiempo de dormir.” Which means ‘it’s time to sleep’. So MIMIS is taken for the ‘mir’ in dormir. (Sorry that was a long explanation) (if you live in a Mexican household then u might usually hear this)

YN drives a Black Honda CR-V (nice mom van) ☺️ while Rin has a White Nissan GT-R but he’s thinking of trading it in for a four door sports car to take the kids and yn along

Rin still has his old black mustang in a garage rental back in Tokyo where he would drive with YN everywhere. He wants to fix it up and gift it to one of his kids when they’re older 🥺

Idk why I’m talking about cars

Rin was a blushing mess when he was getting yn ready for bed and his heart stopped when she snuggled into him

After he admitted he loved YN unconditionally, Akira called him a simp

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @atsumusdomain @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

#haikyuu suna #suna rintarō #miya atsumu #miya osamu #suna rintarou fluff #suna x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x you #Haikyuu au #suna rintaro x reader #suna x y/n

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Violet Evergarden Movie Summary

The initial plan was to make this a short bullet-point thing, but I felt like there was too much to clarify and I had no choice but use novel references to explain certain parts, so I decided to just write a normal summary. Many thanks before-hand to my friend Yuuki, who gave me all this info.

Apologies for taking relatively long with this thing. Not even I expected that I would end up writing this much. Buckle up for the ride, ‘cause it won’t be fun.

Nope, not kidding. It really won’t.

First thing I need to make clear is: this movie is one and a half hour long and divided into three parts and two different timelines: the times when Violet existed and the times after she dies. Already in the beginning of the movie, Violet is dead.

Yes, you read this right. She’s dead.

Now, I don’t mean that she’s dead in the literal sense. This is 60 years in the future. She might be alive or not, but it’s never said. However, the timeline of 60 years later is considered an era without Violet, apparently because she has retired and her “legend” is over, so to say. It’s also a time where Auto-Memories Dolls don’t exist. That’s one good punch in the face. Let’s keep counting.

The movie is sort of like a tale being read by someone else, which at some point goes into Violet’s first-person POV. The whole thing is kind of a look back on Violet’s life tragectory and how it took a new turn when she decided to continue looking for Gil despite all the mess of the TV series.

The era where Violet exists is an era where telephones are being introduced to the people, so Auto-Memories Dolls are starting to become unnecessary. I would argue that the creation of the telephone isn’t enough for an entire occupation to start disappearing so quickly, since new inventions are normally extremely expensive and not everyone has access to them (or even knows about their existence) so immediately after their conception. Realistically speaking, ghostwriters would still be important as long as there were still so many people unable to buy phones. Not to mention that this is a steampunk world where compulsory education doesn’t seem to be a thing yet, so even in the off chance that everybody can buy a phone, there would still be a lot of people who can’t read or write on their own. But all of this clearly went over the animators’ heads, so not only ghostwriters but also the mail business in general are nearing their doom in the movie.

The one looking back on Violet’s life was Ann, who was telling it all to her granddaughter, Daisy (who, by the way, is voiced by Morohoshi Sumire, the same girl who voiced the seven-year-old Ann). Ann had kept all the letters that Violet ghostwrote for her mother, as well as the newspapers about the CH Postal Company. Looks like the article was printed after Violet left CH, since she isn’t in the picture with everyone else.

In this era, CH’s main office has been turned into a museum. Nerine is shown working in it. Of course, she’s a grandma by then. Speaking of the CH personnel, Erica also quit being an Auto-Memories Doll and became a playwright like Oscar. She appears in the newspaper, though, so she probably a while left after Violet did. Taylor also appears there.

Back to Daisy, she was writing a letter to her parents, in order to learn how to properly convey feelings with written word. The message of this scene seems to be that, no matter the tools, what’s important is that we convey our feelings to the people we love.

As we see in the trailer, Gil’s mom has passed and Violet runs into Dietfried when visiting her grave on the anniversary of her death. To anyone who is wondering: yeah, Gil never went to see his mother and she died thinking that he was dead.

Nobody knew that Gil was alive. Not his mother, not Dietfried, not the Evergardens and not even Hodgins. No one.

Here’s what happened to Gil in the anime: he survived the incident at Intense, of course, but got separated from Violet in that explosion. His tag miraculously stayed on the same spot, though, as we saw in the TV series. Now, since this isn’t explained in the anime at all, I have to make it clear: the tag is that necklace the soldiers wear. It contains their names and ranks, so that their bodies can be identified even when they’re irrecognizable. Without the tag, the people who rescued Gil had no idea who he was, so he was sent to a different place to get treated. He ended up at a monastery hospital instead of the one in Enchaîné. I would debate that his uniform alone is enough to identify him as someone from the Leidenschaftlich Army, or maybe they could’ve just asked him which troop he belonged to after he woke up and relocated him to where his fellow men were, but who even cares about all these plot holes anymore? Definitely not me.

Anyway. After Gil was discharged, he ran the fuck away. Like, literally.

If anyone out there was hoping that Gil would finally have his moment to shine as the self-sacrificing, thoughtful and ridiculously kindhearted character that he is in the novel, I have bad news for you. What we had here was even worse than it being Gil’s excuse movie. It’s like the whole thing was made to drag his character so deep through the mud that he’ll never be able to get up again. There’s pretty much nothing in this one and a half hour that actually justifies what he did to Violet. I’ll elaborate on this as we go on.

Anime!Gil became a nomad and went traveling. He offed his ass to the island where that lighthouse displayed in the most recent official art is located (that’s why Gil and Violet were at the beach on the movie poster). He doesn’t have a prosthetic in the anime because, apparently, he was more worried about disappearing as fast as possible to somewhere he would never be found, and never attempted to contact anybody. So nobody knew that he was alive, hence the grave, which, as we feared, was not a fake one. His family really did think he had died.

This is a point that I have already addressed before, but that also means Gil really did abandon Violet to luck. If anything dangerous ever happened to her (as it did, and it was always very obviously likely to happen, since she was the southern army’s most outstanding soldier and quite literally fled from the military), he wouldn’t even know. If word ever got to him, it would probably be too late. And even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help her. More than allowing her to live freely, it felt like he was running away from his responsibilities regarding Violet.

Punch on the face count is currently at six.

By sheer coincidence, Violet learns that Gil is living in that island. She goes to see him and Hodgins goes with her after trying to stop her at first. When Gil finds out that they came to see him, he outright refuses to meet them. It pretty much takes the near entirety of the goddamn movie for them to see each other face-to-face. I say face-to-face because all of the following shit happens:

Hodgins goes to talk to Gil. It lasts about 20 minutes.

Gil talks to Violet from behind a door. This one is about 10 minutes.

Dietfried also comes to the island to talk to him. Also about 10 minutes.

At long fucking last, Gil goes to see Violet. But that, too, is only for about 10 minutes.

Hodgins gives him a speech very similar to what happens in chapter 8. Now get ready to fall back from your seats: Dietfried basically goes there to tell Gil that he won’t run away from taking over the family anymore, so Gil can live freely. Yes, Dietfried is officially a better Gilbert than Gilbert himself. I crave death.

So, after much ado, they come to a conclusion: Gil will stay in the island. In order to completely free himself of the shackles of his bloodline, he stays behind, living the way he wants to. ‘Cause all anime!Gil wants is to rot away alone by the sea, apparently. Now prepare yourselves, for it gets worse. Ready?

Violet stays with him in the motherfucking island.

That’s right, ladies and gents. Another fear became true. She quits her job at the CH Postal Company and goes to live with him. Well, at least, not as a housewife. She starts working with mail services in the island, and Gil helps her with it. Her life goes on like this and she dies in the island as well.

This is where the timeline after Violet passes away comes into light, parallel to the era when Violet was alive. Daisy talks about what happened after Violet left CH, as if it were a tale from the distant past.

That’s it.

The movie paints this as a happy ending. I can hardly see it as one. I know it almost looks like everything was solved, but it just got swept under the rug.

The main point that makes me sad in this ending is that Violet’s character development did a 360 degree flip. In the end, she threw everything to the air and went to live in someone who she always put before everyone else, even herself, but who didn’t do the same for her (in the anime). She’s gone to a crammed little island, where she led an uneventful life away from everyone and everything that’s ever had a positive impact on her. All she has is Gil.

Of course, he’s all she needs, but he isn’t all she should have, and that was the entire point of pushing her to go live on her own. Which is exactly what she earns in the novel: two loving parents, a father figure, a brother figure, a best friend and several other friends and acquaintances whom she formed a bond with. She has all she needs, so she doesn’t have to cling to Gil for any reason. There’s no emotional dependance on him anymore. She doesn’t need him to be whole. She just wants him because he happens to be the best person she’s ever met.

Anime!Violet is most definitely not whole. She almost got there, but then she backtracked completely. And anime!Gil... in my friend’s words, is a weakling. There’s nothing in him actually worth all this undying blind love. Sure, he’s full of regret and shit, but it’s too easy to only act upon it now, by vanishing into thin air like a coward.

The deal with novel!Gil is that he looks around at everything he has, everything that had been burdening him and killing him on the inside all his life, and decides to make use of it for Violet’s sake. He continues being family head and working in the army, amassing money and connections in order to have every means possible to protect Violet should anything happen to her. And as it turns out, he does end up having to use those means, more than once, but he will keep this up for as long as he needs to, because he lives for her now. That’s what makes him worth all the blood, sweat, tears, mental sanity and even body parts that she gave away for his sake: he pays it back. Every cent.

Punch in the face count ends at twelve. Thirteen if I include the fact that the movie ends with a last shot of Violet after she and Gilbert do a pinky swear. Looks like they were really trying to buy everyone with tears.

Oh, well.

I hope this has been a good enough summary. Sorry if I rained on anyone’s parade. I’m pretty sure we won’t get a remake ever, so I really wish we all can get over this soon.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #violet evergarden movie #summary #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hodgins #dietfried bougainvillea

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Instinctive

It’s Who I Am

Part 1

Description: How would The Falcon and The Winter Soldier have played out if you, the younger daughter of Howard Stark got involved? You had been kidnapped by HYDRA at a young age, your mind taken from you as they forced you to work towards creating new weapons for them and when HYDRA had fallen you had gotten free with your scattered memories for you to slowly piece together.

Word Count: 2603

You woke up for the morning, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. This had always been a problem for you, HYDRA had tampered with your mind from when you were a tween up until only a few years ago. HYDRA had taken things from your mind and put what they had wanted in. This had left you broken, able to remember somedays and not others, waking up and not knowing where you were, one moment you'd be at home and the next time you're aware of anything you're in a grocery store.

Since you had been released by HYDRA you had learned more about your past such as the fact that you were the daughter of Howard Stark, younger sister of Tony Stark, Ironman. You couldn't remember any of this though, you just had to take the word of other people saying that that was who you were. Six months ago you had come back along with half the universe, this lapse of time wasn't anything new to you so you were able to keep going better than billions of others. But the world was broken and you felt the need to help some way, some how.

You kept a journal, writing down all that you knew and remembered one day to the next. This helped you keep a better grasp of reality and your life but things were still spacey. But your urge and desire to help kept pushing at you despite that you were struggling to get your life together. You had a niece and a sister-in-law who tried to help, but you didn't know them, as much as they wanted to know you, you couldn't let them in.

One day the desire to act on that urge you had, the urge to help people readjust to their lives, to make up for the damage you had done while under HYDRA's control. The option to act on that urge presented itself. It was as you were sitting on the edge of your bed after waking up, you were scrolling through your phone when something caught your eye. It wasn't the new Captain America the government had presented, but it was the group called the Flag Smashers. They had attacked and robbed a Swiss bank, why this caught your attention you weren't sure but you knew you needed to look into them.

Despite not having a very good memory you were still smart, things engraved in your mind, knowledge you didn't have access too until you were using it. It was easy for you to find out more about the flag smashers because of this ingrained knowledge which you held. That small lead was enough for you to follow, you tell Pepper you're leaving and will be back later, later meaning eventually. From there you go out to the garage, where you had been busy building things in order to keep your mind occupied.

You had made yourself a suit, not like your brother's, not like Pepper's or Peter's or any other one which Tony had made. You put on the suit which you had built, it wasn't painted or anything, it was just the colors of the materials you had created it with. Your suit was just an experiment, basically a t-shirt and leggings that you had made it possible to fly with. The only other thing it did was record where you had been and what you did while wearing it, to help you remember.

You put on your suit, and put in the coordinates of where it is you're wanting to go then you take off. It doesn't take long for you to get where you're wanting to go in your suit, it's light and comfortable allowing you to move without restriction. It's when you enter the old warehouse that you hear voices ahead of you, you move quietly towards the voices, something you had learned during your time at HYDRA, despite not being sent out on missions.

It's as you round a corner that you see a man standing down the hallway in front of you. You quickly duck back around the corner, only to back into a wall. No scream leaves your mouth as a hand covers it to prevent any noise from being heard. Tears come to your eyes as the cold metal of the hand covers your mouth, unremembered memories causing you to panic. Fear begins to shut down your body and your knees give out from under you.

It's as your legs give out that the man behind you speaks, "who are you?"

Your heart in your throat, your mouth doesn't move to try and answer and thats when that other man who had been down the hallway in front of you comes around the corner. Your eyes meet his and there is a moment of recognition. "Hey, Bucky, let her go, she's good."

Theres a pause before the metal hand lifts from your mouth and the man in front of you catches you, helping you gain your balance before he lets go.

The moment his hands leave your shoulders your spunk comes back. Quickly recovering from the fear the feel of that metal hand over your mouth had brought upon you. The feeling of a cold metal hand over your mouth was hauntingly familiar, there was a reason it scared you even if you couldn't remember why.

The moment the man's hands leave your shoulders you turn and look at the man behind you, who had grabbed you, and you see his eyes, eyes you had seen many times before. The man in front of you recognizes you and seems to regret grabbing you, "sorry," he says softly, confirming that fact.

"It- it's fine... you're-" theres a pause as you take a good look at his face, making sure it is solidly in your mind, "Bucky." Then you turn and look at the other man, "and you're," a pause as you study his face, "Sam... Wilson?" you ask.

"Yes, thats me, Sam Wilson, you're y/n Stark right?"

You nod, "yeah, thats me..." your heart rate finally slows and you gain your composure. Your few pieces of memories concerning these two told you you could trust them and that they were most likely in that warehouse for the same reason you were, "I'm here to help." Then theres another pause, "I don't- I cannot remember a lot but I want to help."

Sam and Bucky look at each other for a moment before nodding to one another. They both know the stubbornness of the Starks, and Bucky unfortunately knows you better than you seem to know yourself, and he knows that there is no convincing you to not help. "Alright, come on," Sam says and tilts his head a bit to signal for the three of you to continue the way you all had individually been heading.

It doesn't take the three of you long to come to where it is that the flag smashers were loading the trucks with the stolen medicine and other supplies. Bucky goes to rush in and Sam stops him, you wait, taking your time to follow behind them, unsure of yourself even if you knew you wanted to be there to help. As soon as there is the possibility of a hostage and the trucks begin to move Bucky takes off running and Sam flies after him. You shake yourself out of your stupor of thought, spacey as always as you try to hold your mind together, then you take off after them, gaining easily as your suit allows you to fly faster than Sam and Bucky can move.

The next thing you know you watch as Bucky is thrown from the back of the leading truck and into the windshield of the one following behind. A fight quickly breaks out and you are more than able to hold your own. The only time in your life you remember fighting was when you fought Thanos but you reflexively knew how to move, how to defend yourself and fight back against those much stronger than yourself.

You roll with the punches able to intercept and avoid as needed, at one point you feel a rib crack as you take a hit and make a note to make your suit more protective the next time you have a chance to work on it. The first thing that shocks you during the fight is when a shield flies over your shoulder and knocks a flag smasher back from you.

When that happens you turn to see the man who had been named Captain America now standing on the truck, fighting along side them, along with another man. The flag smashers are stronger than them though, they knock Bucky off the truck and Sam has to rescue him, sending the both of them flying off into a field. You, despite coming here alone to fight, didn't want to continue this fight alone, considering yourself alone as you don't trust this Captain America person, he just gives off bad vibes.

You jump off the truck and fly off to find the two men you had joined. They're already up and moving again when you land beside them and Sam looks at you, "you left?" He sounds a bit surprised, you don't know him, he doesn't know you and obviously the connection you share with Bucky isn't a good one yet here you are, leaving the fight to find the two men.

You shrug, "most of my memories are from the last 6 months... I don't know many people," you glance at Bucky as you walk along side him, "but the two of you are at least familiar. I don't know either of those guys so I'm trusting my instinct since thats about all I have."

They both nod a bit, "well, welcome to the team I guess," Sam says before changing the topic back to the flag smashers and what it is they could be doing and how they had definitely been fighting against super soldiers. You stay relatively quiet, only jumping in when you had. something to share from the research you had done into them to even know you'd be able to find them here. To be completely honest Sam is surprised by how different you are from your brother, he didn't expect you to be a replica of Tony because of the fact you had basically been raised by HYDRA but other than that from what he had heard you were vary similar in attitude to Tony. You still had that stubborn and sometimes arrogant air about you that Tony had, even if you were quiet and didn't offer as strong of an opinion as Tony always had.

All too soon your conversation is interrupted by a jeep pulling up and driving alongside the three of you. "That didn't go as planned, huh?" That John Walker guy attempts to start a conversation and the Jeep stops for a moment and the back door opens for the trio to get in, but then silently the trio decides to just keep walking, not getting in.

The jeep continues to drive beside you Sam and Bucky, John continues to try and talk, and only gains a response when he brings up wizards, and Bucky immediately says, "there's no such thing as wizards."

"Alright, then it's aliens or androids-"

"Or super soldiers," Sam interjects.

"Super soldiers? For real?" asks the man who seemed to be John's partner, not that kind of partner, they're just a couple of guys being dudes, what could be better than that?

"Alright, then we gotta work together," the captain says.

Only to be interrupted by Bucky once again, "that's not happening."

Eventually this conversation just leads to Bucky being passive aggressive and John insisting the three of you get a ride to the airport with him. Once all of you are in the truck you take a moment to stare at both John and Lemar as you come to learn his name is, you try to memorize their faces. You don't catch much of what is said during this time besides that they used Sam's tech to track them and John claiming to be the government.

Finally John gets uncomfortable with Bucky's staring and turns to look at you, only to be greeted once again by someone staring at him, "do they always just stare like that?" he asks Sam.

"You get used to it," Sam replies.

This is when you decide to finally say something, "I need to make sure I know your faces."

John looks at you, he hadn't been prepared to have you there with Sam and Bucky so it takes him a moment to place you. "Why do you need to do that Ms.Stark, need to get to know your new coworker's faces?" He asks, once again using that cringy friendly smile that seems glued to his face.

You see no problem with honesty so you just say, "No, Josh. You see I have a few memory problems, I don't know you so I'm trusting my gut. And its as simple as me needing to be able to pick you out of a crowd seeing as my gut says not to trust you."

After that you hear a slight noise to your right and glance over to see Bucky not even trying to hide the slight laugh he had let out at John's expense.

John doesn't know what to say to that, surprised by your blatant honesty so he pauses for a moment and gains composure before saying, "it's actually John Walker, not Josh."

You simply shrug, taking not of the fact that misnaming him had struck some sort of nerve with him. Sam and Bucky take back over, looking to Lemar and asking who the hell he is.

"Lemar Hoskins."

"Look, I see a guy in tactical gear hanging out of a helicopter I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins," Sam says.

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky asks in disbelief. "Stop the car," he shouts for the jeep to come to a stop before he climbs out as John tries to stop him.

You move to get out as well, not wanting to deal with them at the moment. As you do that John gives Sam a little speech about how he isn't trying to be Steve, but it would be easier to be Captain America if he had Captain America's "wing man" at his side.

"It s always that last line," Sam scoffs before following you and Bucky down a path.

You're clenching your jaw as you walk, Sam notices and takes a moment to ask, "you good, y/n?"

"I'm fine, just trying to decide why I don't like him." You pause a moment before turning to look at Sam again, "I should get going." You pause and lift your arms, showing your shirt, "I need to go fix this thing, so that next. time I don't crack another rib."

Sam looks at you for a moment, "wait you're just walking around with a cracked rib like it's nothing?"

You shrug, "yeah, it hurts but like it's not that bad."

Sam shakes his head, "told you earlier that you're a part of this team you might as well just catch a ride with us, especially if you're planning on just coming right back once you get fixed up."

Theres a moments pause as you turn once again to look at him, offering a small smile, one of the first you've shared in a while, "alright... thanks."

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oatmilkovich · 3 years

Note

not sure if you've shared your acting thoughts on j.a.w. but would love to hear if you have any stand-out moments. it keeps hitting me what a powerhouse he is and his arc (and especially the incredible power of his scenes with emmy) pretty much singlehandedly kept me watching through seasons 6-8 when a lot of other storylines dragged on! i'm still happy with the show in a post-fiona world but i really miss the lip and fiona dynamic as it really felt like the backbone of the show and the gallagher family!

hey! <3

you sent this weeks ago and i am profusely sorry about that. i haven’t talked about jeremy yet but since it was lip love hours on the dash today, i decided to have a crack at it. lip’s storyline has definitely been the most consistent and solid throughout the entire show – there’s never really a time i don’t enjoy watching his scenes (though i do find it difficult to watch the helene sl in s6). he and emmy consistently worked phenomenally off one another and though i really miss emmy now, i do think we need to hand it to jaw and his contribution to carrying the show for it’s run.

there’s a lot I could talk about with jeremy’s work so i’ve had to pick a couple of my favourite things for today, otherwise i’d be writing for hours. discussion under the cut!

remember: this is all my opinion! i’m just an unemployed actor in a pandemic.

one of my ultimate favourite things about jeremy’s performance is the way he approaches lip’s monologues. in my personal opinion as an actor, monologues fucking suck. they’re unnatural, difficult to pull off and so easily end up being a vehicle for the self indulgent actor to just hear their own voice. luckily for us, jaw manages to knock them out of the park every single time. the key to a successful monologue is a hell of a lot of prep work before hand – you’ve always got to remember that no one monologues and talks at a great interrupted length naturally, that’s just not how humans exist and interact in the world, so an actor always has to consider why their character continues talking and doesn’t stop after the first line. their objective for the scene – what they want to gain – has to be so solid, so vital to the actor/character that we believe they can’t stop talking until they achieve it. an objective is the only thing that drives dialogue forward – we only speak out loud because we want to achieve something. now, there’s an incredibly fine line between pushing to achieve your objective during a monologue and allowing the objective to push you. this is never a problem with jeremy’s work.

a good objective goes hand in hand with how the lines of the monologue are delivered. every line a character speaks is new to them – the actor rehearses a line but the character doesn’t – each thought behind a line, even if it’s something they’ve thought about before, is new to them. when you’re working in a scene with another actor and trading dialogue, it’s easier for that new line of dialogue to feel more natural as a response to your partner – when you’re on your own in a monologue this can be a huge challenge. monologues are badly done when everything sounds rehearsed – you can tell when the actor isn’t working from moment to moment and is simply saying the lines they’ve learnt in a huge chunk. you don’t believe they’re speaking to achieve their objective, they’re simply speaking the lines on the page and probably are thinking about how good they sound. again, this is never a problem with jeremy’s work.

now let’s look at this monologue from 5x08:

this is a really well done and subtle monologue on jeremy’s part – it’s one of my favourites and it does a really good job at highlighting how detailed and personalised his work is. before he even begins to speak, you can tell jeremy is prepared for the circumstances of scene. lip is completely riddled with tension – you can see it in the way he clenches his jaw and wipes his hands on his trousers – as an audience member, we already know there’s a hell of a lot on his plate. this monologue is a moment where he allows it all to bubble over.

lip’s obviously trying to get some leeway on his college finances by explaining his situation to his adviser – perhaps that was jeremy’s objective (to achieve help with his finances) but as he continues talking, it morphs into really heartbreaking glimpse into lip’s pov of being the ‘golden goose’ of the family. it’s the first time we really hear his thoughts on ian’s diagnosis, monica’s illness and how guilty he feels every single day being away from his family. lip asking for a favour becomes less about financial help and even more so about being heard. he needs someone to understand and hear him out. to understand the heavy pressure he feels to achieve what everyone else expects of him.

a monologue has a mini storyline arc within it and jeremy takes us on journey as we watch lip continue talking, continue exposing himself, putting himself in a horribly vulnerable position. he starts by easing himself in – cracking a joke about how they should get to know one another because he’ll be there a lot – but as soon as he starts going into detail about ian and why he needs an extension on payments, there’s a significant shift in jeremy’s delivery and lip’s relationship to how badly he needs this. jeremy allows himself to fully experience each thought before he delivers a line – he doesn't rush and allows moments to breathe. every single line he says, every single sibling or situation he mentions, we get a glimpse of his pov on the subject. these moments of pause allow lip’s journey throughout the speech to be so clear to us as audience members, there’s never a moment where a piece of dialogue feels delivered falsely or preplanned. jeremy doesn’t push to achieve anything and we follow lip throughout the speech on his journey without a clue where he’s going to end up.

by the end of the monologue, lip’s desperation to be understood is clearer than ever. he’s panicking but jeremy never overplays it. even as it builds and he begins to visibly get more emotional with tears in his eyes, it never becomes a performance. jeremy always manages to get the balance right and it’s just a really, really beautiful reaction to his circumstances and truthful acting coming from the moment. it’s a huge deal to bare his heart like this to someone – a stranger at that – and jeremy manages to capture that vulnerable dent in lip’s pride perfectly. he’s not yelling, he’s not pulling his hair out, but we still completely understand why this is so important to him. although I'll never know how he actually prepares his work, his text work here is deeply personalised – you can tell jeremy has given lip’s pov a good thought. I believe him the entire way through, his objective is clear and whatever it was that jeremy decided to use worked perfectly for both his motivation and our belief.

as someone who has shed a tear over performing many a monologue, he makes it seem so fucking effortless – i think that’s what really gets me. i’d love to see him do work on stage one day. as i said, there are about a million things I could talk about when it comes to jaw’s work on the show. this baaaaaarely even scratches the surface! I wanted to talk about another monologue here too, but i think this got long enough only talking about one!

please always feel free to ask me about any specific moments if you have any pressing questions, i can’t promise i’ll get to it very quickly (i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!) but i will always try.my inbox is always open for anything, acting or otherwise. it takes me a while, but I really, really do love talking about this stuff.

thanks for reading! <3

#willa’s acting thoughts #sorry this ended up being about one scene and not more #but i just really really love this scene and i love his work #and i could talk about it for hours!!! hours!!#okay this made me nervous so i’m gonna go brush my teeth 🏃‍♀️#enjoy #jeremy allen white #shameless #lip gallagher #also surprisingly no one has asked me about emmy yet #but i was thinking of maybe looking at her conditioning force work w s4 and s9 ish #but ajdhshabdhajqksb #asks #actingasks

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

no service (gbd)

the boys do their first no tech challenge since you and grayson get together, and though they make it, something goes terribly wrong at home

word count: 5k

warnings/tags: angst, worried!grayson, hurt!y/n

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :)

Your POV:

“I dunno, I just have a weird feeling about this one.” Grayson’s fingers were twisting and untwisting the hem of your shirt, his nerves evident as you laid next to him in bed.

“Gray you’re gonna be fine, it’s just like before. You’ve got the van, and you’ve done survival stuff. Everything is gonna work out. I am gonna miss you though,” you gave him a sad smile.

Since you’d started dating, you’d been attached at the hip. You still had an apartment of your own, but if you were honest you needed to just bite the bullet and sell it - you practically lived with the twins, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. But that also meant that this was going to be the first long-ish stretch that you weren’t with each other.

“It’s just 7 days baby, it’ll go by so fast.” Now he was comforting you, of course.

“You’re gonna have the best time, I can’t wait to see the video when you get home.”

“I’d send you pictures, but you know we won’t have our phones,” he sighed, running a finger along your jawline. “Not being able to see this face all week is gonna suck.”

You blushed deep red, warming his fingertips before you pulled away and crawled across the bed.

“Hey, where ya goin’?” Grayson pouted, but you ignored him for a second, going over to the dresser where you kept some of your clothes full time. You reached down, pulling out the little album that you’d been making as a gift for Grayson down the road. You pulled out one of your favorite pictures; from one of the first weeks that you’d been dating, it was the two of you with the LA skyline in the background, with you looking up at him as he smiled.

“Here, take this with you.” You handed him the photo. “I know E will probably give you shit, but just hide it somewhere. Make sure you bring it back though, that one’s my favorite.”

“I love you,” he responded, but you barely heard it, because at that exact moment Ethan was banging on the door and yelling “GRAY! C’mon it’s time to go!”

“And i’m going to kill my brother,” he groaned, reaching out and pulling you to him tightly, falling back on the bed. You landed on top of him, and his lips were on yours before you could say anything. He kissed you roughly for a minute, a bit of urgency there as he knew you weren’t going to be able to do this again for a while. Ethan knocked on the door again, and you felt Graysons arms tighten as he rolled over, putting you underneath him

“Go Gray, before he beats the door down,” you teased, pushing gently on his chest.

“I could just stay here with you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Go,” You giggled, pushing harder.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, kissing you again before getting up. “Alright E, I’m coming!”

You followed him to the door where Ethan was standing in the doorway.

“Finally get him to stop crying and leave?” E asked.

“Oh shut up,” you teased, pushing on his chest so you could get by. He followed you, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you headed out to the van, which you knew was already packed.

You stayed out of the shot as they filmed a little intro explaining what they were doing. Grayson was so much more excited these days in all the videos, but even more so in the ones that had to do with adventures. You watched as the locked their phones in the box they’d used before, storing it under the benches in the van.

Once the cameras cut, Gray made his way back over to you, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“I love you. I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmured into your hair.

“I love you too Gray. Be safe.”

“You too. Call Ricky if you need anything okay? He’ll still have his phone for emergencies.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

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

Grayson’s POV

His mind was already wandering as he continued driving down the road, already in Arizona. They were headed to Big Bend National Park, with the new challenge of not using their phones for navigation. Ethan was actually a good navigator, so once he got on the right highway it was just a matter of driving through Arizona and Texas, then down to the Mexico border to get to the park.

“I think all this footage is gonna be sick, and I’m excited to get some star shots once we get to the park,” Ethan said. Gray just nodded along, watching the road.

“You good bro? You’re off, I can feel it.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a pit in my stomach about this whole thing. It’s makin’ me anxious,” Grayson explained, fists tightening on the wheel of the van. Ricky was in the back, sound asleep.

“What about it though? Is it something specific?” Ethan asked.

“I can’t put my finger on it. I just have a weird feeling. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just in my head.”

“Is it Y/N?”

Sometimes, Grayson really hated sharing a mind. And this was one of those times. He stayed silent, which was enough of an answer for Ethan.

“She’s a fully capable person Gray. She’s gonna be fine without you for a few days.”

“Thanks asshole, I know. Just drop it.”

“Whatever,” Ethan shrugged, settling down into his chair a bit more, crossing his arms and getting comfy for the long trip ahead.

And a long trip it was. They made it to the park around 1am, and were amazed at what they saw. Above them was the whole milky way, clear as day.

They shot a quick clip explaining the main reason they’d come all the way to Big Bend.

“It’s a certified dark zone, which means no one is allowed to have building with lights out here. So theres no light pollution at all, it’s one of the best places in the world to see the stars,” Ethan explained. Grayson wasn’t paying too much attention; instead he was gazing up, and suddenly missing who he wanted beside him more than anything.

It was going to be a long few days.

Your POV:

The first four days were alright. You spent your time wandering around the house, enjoying all the space. You sat in Ethan’s comfy chair in the living room while you watched netflix, cuddled up in one of Grayson’s blankets from his bed that you’d dragged with you. It smelled like him, and it was comforting.

When that got boring you’d change into a swim suit, heading out to the pool - you’d given it a good cleaning, which you knew the boys would be thankful for when they got back. You were determined to get more of a tan than Gray by the end of the summer, and if you had any chance at all you needed to get a head start.

By day five, the boredom was starting to get to you. You wanted to talk to Grayson, see his face, see his smile, hear his laugh. You even resorted to going back and watching a few of your favorite videos of theirs, just to hear his voice. You felt pathetic while you did it, but you also couldn’t really bring yourself to care too much if you were honest. All throughout the day you caught yourself pulling out your phone to text him, but you knew he wouldn’t see them.

Still, you’d send a message just for fun, knowing he would see them once he got back and was allowed to have his phone. You could just imagine his face when he got back and saw all the little messages you’d left.

miss youuuuu

hey u should come home now, k thanks

I stole your favorite hoodie and you’re never getting it back oops

im gonna hide all your building stuff, that’s the level of boredom i’m at

this shit sucks

i love you

I wanna go on the next adventure :(

But as you sent the last one, it sparked an idea.

You could make your own adventure. Nothing was stopping you, and you had nothing better to do. The weather was nice, and there was supposed to be some good surf coming in.

And so, that was that. You packed up a towel, your wetsuit and some sunscreen, heading out to the car. You decided to take the Bronco, just because it had the surf rack on top. Grayson still wasn’t too keen on anyone driving his car, but he trusted you with it more than Ethan, and you knew he wouldn’t really care.

So you packed up your surfboard, struggling a bit to get it on top of the roof and strapped down - Grayson always made it look so damn easy. But you managed, finally getting in and heading to the beach. The drive was beautiful, as always, but you missed being in the passenger seat with Grayson’s hand on your thigh.

Damn. These last few days were gonna suck.

Grayson’s POV:

“I think we’re really getting the hang of this bro. I’m excited. We could do this full time, for real,” Grayson grinned, packing up a few things in the van while Ethan filled up the packs with water. Ricky was filming, so he took the opportunity to explain what was happening.

“So guys, today we’re going on the longest, and most difficult hike in Big Bend. It’s called South Rim, it’s about 14 miles total, but we’re gonna split it up and actually camp about halfway so we can get even cooler views tonight. Now, Ethan and I like to say we’re hikers, but honestly, we kinda suck.”

“Yeah, we uh, we’re not great,” Ethan chimed in.

“So this should be fun!”

“Oh yeah, great time.”

“And obviously we don’t have our phones, so we’re gonna have no idea what time it is, we won’t be able to call for help if we get, ya know, mauled by a mountain lion or something.”

“Bro, why would you say that!?” Ethan groaned.

“It’s the truth! Well, I guess Ricky has his phone though, so we’d be alright.”

“My phone hasn’t had service since we got here,” Ricky countered from behind the camera.

“Oh we are so fucked dude,” Ethan grumbled.

And in all honesty, it put a bit of a pit in Gray’s stomach, knowing he wouldn’t be able to contact anybody if something happened. But he pushed the thought from his mind, moving to help his brother pack up the tent and begin their trek.

Your POV:

The beach wasn’t too crowded, which was a blessing. When you said you liked to surf, it usually meant that you liked to catch 1 wave out of the 50 you tried for. You were a beginner, that was for sure. There were only about 20 people on the entire beach, and a few surfers out on the break, with the lifeguard keeping a close eye on them.

Even if you didn’t feel it, you looked the part in your wetsuit, board tucked under your arm. You snapped a quick picture, sending it to Grayson’s non-existent phone just for kicks.

wish you were here! you’d be laughing at how much I’m gonna suck. love you!

After it sent, you put it away in the waterproof box you’d brought. You made your way over to the lifeguard station, waving up at the man sitting atop the chair.

“Hey, I’m here by myself, do you care if I leave this box here with you?” You asked politely.

“Yeah that’s fine. Be careful out there,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the water. You put it down by the legs of the chair, jogging towards the water. The ocean was cold when it hit your skin but you adjusted quickly, diving in and heading out to the break.

And as you predicted, you missed practically every single one you tried to get up on. You hit the water over and over again, your arms sore from pushing up to standing, even if it was to no avail.

You began paddling in after about an hour, accepting defeat, when suddenly you noticed everyone beside you paddling out instead of in.

The lifeguard’s whistle came too late. By the time you turned around, the wave was already there, towering feet above any that had come prior.

And you were right in the break.

You’d read about these before. Rouge waves, you remembered. Random waves that come from nowhere, with no apparent cause. You had just enough time to suck in your breath before it crashed directly over your head.

It felt like the inside of a washing machine looked - that was the only way you could describe it. And then you felt something warm on your head, and everything went black.

Grayson’s POV:

It was the morning of day six, and Grayson had never been more ready to get home. The pit in his stomach was a rock now, and he had no explanation for it at all.

“Bro we’re actually disgusting. Like we need a real shower somewhere, or we’re never gonna get the smell out of this van,” Ethan said. And he was right. After all the hiking and sleeping in the tent, the three of them reeked.

“We could do a gas station shower, we just gotta map our way there without our phones. I don’t think that breaks the rules, we just aren’t supposed to use technology,” Ricky shrugged.

“Alright sick, we might as well start driving. Gray, you okay?” E asked.

“Yeah. Just don’t feel good,” he mumbled. He kept himself curled up in the back of the van, head resting on the table as Ethan found his way out of the park and towards the nearest town.

Grayson couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. He wasn’t dehydrated, he hadn’t eaten anything bad. He should be having the time of his life, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was like the time that Ethan had cut his leg open when they were kids; Grayson wasn’t near him, but he just knew. It was exactly that feeling, except Ethan was right there in front of him, perfectly fine. So he just kept his head down, hoping whatever it was would pass.

They found the gas station about 45 minutes later, and the three of them headed in eagerly. Maybe a good warm shower would clear his mind.

And once he was done, he did feel better. But only slightly. It was getting harder to breathe. He headed out, noticing that Ricky was already in the van and Ethan was waiting outside.

“Gray, dude you don’t look good. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m getting sick man. I’ve been sick to my stomach since yesterday, and I feel like I can’t breathe now. Maybe I’ve got a really bad allergy to something out here. I’m sorry man, I’m trying to shake it so I can be up for the video, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Guys.” Ricky’s voice was serious, much more serious than normal.

“What’s up?” E asked.

“I just got service again, and I’ve got 12 missed calls, all from the same number. I don’t recognize it though. LA area code.”

“Call it. Call it now.” Grayson’s answer came before he could even think about it. He felt like he was going to hurl.

Ricky dialed it back quickly, holding the phone up to his ear. The twins climbed in the back, sitting down across from him at the table.

“This is he.” Ricky said. “Um, yeah, yeah he’s right here.”

Grayson’s blood went ice cold when Ricky held the phone out for him.

“It’s for you.”

He felt robotic and he reached out, taking the phone and putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr. Grayson Dolan?”

“Yes.”

“Hi Grayson. We’re just calling on behalf of Ms. Y/N Y/L/N from King Hospital, you’re listed as her primary emergency contact.”

“Is she alright? What happened?”

“She’s stable right now. We don’t have all of the details, she’s been in and out of consciousness. She was in an accident -”

“Accident?” Grayson’s voice cracked, and Ethan stiffened up beside him. As if it was instinct, he felt his brothers hand on his shoulder, anchoring him just enough that he could listen.

“She was out surfing at Manhattan Beach, the lifeguards said there was a rouge wave. They got her out quickly, but they think she hit her head on some rocks when she went under. She wasn’t breathing when they got to her, but she was stabilized in the ambulance. She told us to call Ricky off her phone when she was conscious because you wouldn’t have your phone. We’ve had her sedated so her brain could rest, but it looks like we’re going to need to take her in for surgery, because we found some deep lacerations on her head and want to check for anymore significant damage.”

“Surgery?” Grayson expected himself to go numb, but he almost had the opposite. He was so overwhelmed that it was crippling. “How soon?”

“As soon as we’re able. She isn’t able to give consent, so we needed to get in contact with you if possible. Are you able to get here quickly?”

“I’m - I’m not in the state, I’m in Texas.”

“Well, a telephone consent will do,” the nurse said.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Yeah, I consent. Do what you need to, please just be careful.” It was dumb thing to say, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Thank you Mr. Dolan, we will. And we’ll keep you updated. Should we call at this number, or the one you have listed?”

“The one I have listed is fine, I have it now.”

Ethan knew exactly what that meant and was immediately scrambling to find the box with their phones while Ricky got the key ready off his keychain.

“Alright, speak soon Mr. Dolan.”

And with that she hung up the phone.

“I’m gonna be sick,” were the only words that Grayson could manage as he crawled to the back of the van and hurled over the bumper. Ethan followed him, holding onto his shoulders and trying to stabilize him so he didn’t fall out.

“What do we need to do Gray?”

“Drive. We need to get home, now.”

Without further questions, Ricky climbed into the drivers seat as they closed up the back of the van, immediately heading in the direction of California.

When Gray finally managed to get enough air in his lungs, he was able to look up at Ethan, who was sitting opposite of him.

“Y/N’s hurt. I think it’s pretty bad.”

“Tell me what happened.”

And so he did, to the best of his ability. He didn’t have very much information, which was the hard part. But he told his brother everything that the nurse did.

“Well, if she was with it enough to give them Ricky’s number instead of yours, that’s good. That means she was alright when they got her in the ambulance.”

“Right. I wonder if she tried to call me.” The thought made his stomach tighten.

“Your phone was dead, it’s charging up front right now. Either way, we’re headed back as quick as we can.”

Grayson noted that the van was moving quite quickly - Ricky was definitely speeding, but he didn’t care.

“E.”

“I know Gray. I’m scared too. But she’s gonna be alright. She has to be.”

She’s gonna be alright

He repeated the words over and over again in his head, sometimes mumbling them aloud. A few minutes later, his phone was charged. Ethan climbed to the front to get it. Without having to ask, Ethan knew that Grayson wanted him to screen his texts, just to see. And he could tell there were texts from her just by his face.

“E. If she text me about all this and I didn’t answer, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to, she didn’t take her phone in the water. These are all from before.”

He held out his hand.

Looking at the texts was his undoing. He could hear her voice, clear as day in his head as he read them, making it all the much harder. He began to sob, uncontrollable ragged sounds. Ethan put an arm around his shoulder in silent support, as he often did. And Ricky continued down the road.

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

It was the longest 15 hours of his life. They’d checked to make sure it wasn’t quicker to stop in Phoenix and put Grayson on a flight - driving straight through was faster. But god it felt like it was taking years. He held the picture he had of him and Y/N in his hand, but he couldn’t look at it for too long without losing it.

Ethan was driving now, with Grayson in the passenger seat - he hadn’t been forced to take a turn, everyone knew he was in no shape to drive.

Everyone in the car was on edge, which meant they all jumped practically to the ceiling when Grayson’s phone rang. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Dolan?” It was a different voice this time.

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Y/N’s surgeon, just calling with an update. Y/N is out of surgery, and she did great! No complications, and the damage seems pretty minimal, though we’ll have to see once she wakes up.”

He took his first real breath in the last 15 hours.

“That’s great news. Thank you.”

“So she’s in recovery right now, but she’s gonna be unconscious for the next 30 minutes or so. Should we be expecting you?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m headed there right now, I should be there in about 25 minutes according to my GPS.”

“Alright perfect. Well, she’s in room 828 on the post op wing when you get here, just sign in at the desk and we’ll bring you up. We’ll take good care of her.”

“Thank you so much doctor.”

“She’s alright. Out of surgery, should be waking up soon,” he explained as soon as he hung up. The relief was obvious, especially for Ethan. Gray had been so caught up in his own worry that he’d forgotten how worried Ethan must be - Y/N was practically his sister. Grayson watched as his brother pressed just a tiny bit more on the gas, racing towards the hospital.

When they arrived, Grayson couldn’t get out of the van fast enough. He bolted for the entrance, with Ethan in tow. Ricky stayed in the car out of privacy, offering to get them anything they needed.

They went through the motions of check in - something they were all too familiar with - and Grayson followed the nurse up to the post op floor, where he was transferred over to the nurse that had initially called him.

“She’s starting to stir just a bit. Just to prepare you, we aren’t sure how confused she’s going to be when she wakes up. With the mixture of anesthesia and her concussion, she may be very out of it. Just be patient with her, she should come around to her normal self within the next few hours. She’s right through here.” The nurse stopped outside the door, opening the door with a gentle push.

“You wanna go alone, or do you want me with you?” Ethan asked, hesitating.

“With me.” He didn’t have to think about it.

Grayson went in first, and if Ethan hadn’t been behind him, he probably would have fallen to his knees. Y/N was in the hospital bed, gown over her still form, her head partially wrapped in gauze. She had oxygen tubes in her nose and was breathing deeply, laying flat on her back, eyes closed. Just the image of her in the whole hospital garb was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He hated it more than he could have imagined.

Once he was stable enough on his feet, Grayson headed to her bedside. As he got closer, she started to stir a bit, fingers twitching as he sat down as gently as he could on the side of her bed. It was as if she knew he was there already, even though he hadn’t said a word or touched her at all.

“Mmmmmm.” She started to make a noise, her dry lips parting.

“Baby?” Grayson leaned forward, taking her hand in his, careful not to move her IV.

“Mmm- mad.” She mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Mad?” He looked back at Ethan for clarification, but he just nodded. Grayson raised a hand up to cup her cheek, and she smiled, resting her head in his palm. He revealed in the feeling, taking it in.

“Bronco.” This time, her word was clear, though it didn’t make anymore sense.

“Baby. Y/N, can you open your eyes sweetheart?” Grayson coaxed, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

“Tryin’. It’s heavy,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows. He could tell she was really doing her best, which made his heart squeeze a bit tighter. When she finally managed to lift her eyelids, he could tell she was exhausted.

“You’s gonna be mad at me,” was the first sentence she managed to string together, though all her words were drawn out and slightly garbled.

“Why would I be mad at you baby?”

“I drove the bronco, left it at the beach. Probs some homeless guy living in it,” she said, resting all the weight of her head onto his hand.

“It’s okay. I really couldn’t care less about the car right now.”

“Don’t say that, Ethan will be big sad.” She gasped then, sitting upright a little more. “Ethan! Hi buddy!” She had just noticed him at the end of the bed. She blinked hard, like she was trying to bring him into focus.

“Hey girly, how yah feelin?”

“Got a cracked skull, but i’ms okay. But guess what?”

“What?” He asked.

“Still smarter than youuuuu,” she shrugged, and Grayson couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

She really was back to normal.

“You want me to go get the car?” Ethan asked, sitting on the opposite side of her bed and for once, choosing not to throw a comeback. He really had been worried.

“I don’t have keys. Or my phone. I left em with the lifeguard,” she pouted, her lip curling down. If it wasn’t so pitiful, he would have found it adorable.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it,” Grayson reassured her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

The nurse came in then to check on her. Ethan moved out of her way, and Grayson was about to move away, but Y/N grabbed his hand, using all her strength to hold him there.

“Don’t go,” she whimpered, and he swore he could feel a piece of his heart crack.

“I’m right here, just getting out of the nurses way,” he promised, kissing her hand and standing next to the bed.

“You guys are fine, I’ll let you know if you’re somewhere I need to be,” the nurse smiled. “How’re you feeling Y/N?”

“Sore, but okay.”

“Well, you’re a trooper. I’ve never seen anyone come out of anesthesia so clear headed before. Now, you might get confused in a little while, but that’s just the concussion, and it’ll pass, okay? Just gotta give it time. You just rest and give your body some time to heal. You should be ready to rock and roll out of here in the next few days, okay?”

“M’kay. Is my phone lost forever?” She asked.

“Actually the lifeguard that pulled you out dropped off your box with your things earlier. It’s over there with your other belongings.”

Grayson made a mental note to find that guy and thank him profusely in the future. Ethan went over to the personal items bag, bringing it over to the bed. Y/N started to rummage through it, pulling things out one by one.

When she got her wetsuit out - which took some effort - she frowned, running her finger over the new cut that Grayson assumed was made by the paramedics. He tried as hard as he could to not picture what the ambulance looked like when that cut was made.

“They cut it,” she pouted. “That was my favorite one.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Grayson reassured her.

“M’kay,” she mumbled, satisfied. She cuddled down a little bit into her pillow, obviously exhausted. Grayson continued going through the bag, getting the keys and her phone out of the box.

“I’m gonna get the car before it gets towed. Give you all a minute,” Ethan said quietly, having a hand out for the keys.

“Thanks bro. I’ll keep you updated.”

He was extremely grateful, but he couldn’t find the words. He hoped Ethan knew.

“Gray,” Y/N said quietly.

“Hey baby, I’m right here.”

“M’tired,” she murmured, holding a hand out. “Can we sleep?”

“You can sleep sweetheart,” Grayson reassured her.

“C’mere. Come up here,” she said, patting the bed next to her.

Grayson obliged, sliding his arms under her knees and behind her back, scooting her over just enough so that he could slide into the bed beside her.

“Much better. I missed you. Maybe don’t go for so long next time,” she said, curling up against him and getting as close as she could.

“Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you for a long, long time.”

“Sounds good to me,” she mumbled, but she was already falling asleep before the end of the sentence. So Grayson held her close to him, relishing in the feeling and lulling off to sleep.

#I really love this #I watched too many of their survival videos haha #lynds writes #grayson imagine #grayson imagines #grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twin imagines #ethan dolan

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bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

a permanent solution to a temporary insanity

Pairing: Mason/m!Detective, with a side of Adam/Nate (implied)

Words: 5257

Summary: Unit Bravo discover the detective has... a lot more tattoos than they would have guessed. Felix is delighted. Mason is intrigued. Nate and Adam are just worried this is going to cause issues with Rebecca, somehow. Tina and Verda become chaotic disasters when they’ve had some alcohol in them.

Takes place at the beginning of Book 2. Title taken from a quote my granddad likes to use whenever he wants me to know he disapproves of my tattoos.

AO3 Link | Ko-Fi <3

"Get your foot off the table, you fucking barbarian!"

Mason can hear the voice of the detective's coworkers from across the bar, but even if he couldn't, Chase's scent is easy enough to track. The muted bite of coffee, the sharpness of pine tempered with clary sage. The cooled sweat of a long day, and, just barely perceptible, the intoxicating undercurrent of his blood.

Mason's awareness narrows down to that stimulus, and he weaves his way through the meager crowd. He is only vaguely cognizant of his unit following behind him, so focused on finding--

He hears a laugh, low and husky, a bit of a scuffle, and he finds the detective sitting at a table with the pathologist, Verda, and the Bobblehe-- Officer Poname.

Chase's back is to him, and he’s sitting in a chair at the end of a table squished into a corner. Verda and Poname are opposite him in a booth against the wall, laughing, while Poname tries in vain to wrestle Chase's scuffed combat boot off the edge of the table. The smell of alcohol is strong between the three of them, but that is not what makes Mason stop dead.

Chase's leather jacket is draped over the back of his chair, and underneath, what Mason always thought was a full turtleneck sweater is actually completely sleeveless. The detective's arms are bare, save for intricate swirls and clusters of ink, mostly black, but with some pops of color here and there. Some of it is flowers, some words, a few bones and animal skulls. Abstract shapes and lines, a few sharp little designs, from shoulder to knuckles on both arms-- and Mason suddenly realizes Chase always seemed to be wearing supple leather palm gloves that matched his jacket, or, when it was colder, cozy wool fingerless gloves so he could still use his phone without trouble. Not tonight, though. Tonight his hands are bare, his arms are bare, and the ribbed shirt he’s wearing is clinging to him and really showing off the stout strength of his torso.

Mason grunts as Felix runs into his back, and time seems to pick back up to normal speed while his companion loudly complains.

Chase's head turns upon hearing the familiar voice, and Mason gathers his wits and offers a smirk and a carefully relaxed wave, sauntering up alongside the man, who raises a glass full of some dark mixed drink to him.

"There’s nothing we can do until we’ve got more information about our case, so I'm off tomorrow-- ask Rebecca," he informs Adam, who is looking disapprovingly between the detective's lax, sprawled posture and the half-empty glass held loosely in one hand, "so I don't want to hear you bitching about what I'm doing."

Adam's mouth pinches, Nate chuckles and tries to stifle it, and Mason coughs out a ragged laugh. But all that is lost to Felix shoving his way bodily around Mason to grab Chase's wrist (thankfully the one without the drink) and shout, "You've got so many tattoos!"

Chase gives Felix a lazy once-over, his brow quirked. "Yeah? And?" He looks a little bemused, as if he can’t quite figure out how this came as such as a surprise to any of them, much less a busybody like Felix. He obviously can’t say it in front of his coworkers, but Mason remembers Chase’s time with Murphy. The hospital gown and the needles and bandages. But even though they could all see in the dark just fine, there was a bit too much going on to really notice more than some smudges of dark ink on his neck and arms.

He thinks their minds might be going to the same place, for a moment, because Chase’s mouth twists from a lazy smile to a grim frown, dark, serious brows scrunching. It’s a slight gesture, barely noticeable, but he jerks his head once, as if to shake off the memories.

They’re both, thankfully, distracted by Felix whirling around to point accusingly at Mason. "Did you know he had this many?"

"If I did, would I tell you?" he sneers. Felix pouts mightily, but then pauses, and smiles. A slow, creeping smile, his eyes narrowed smugly.

"If you did know, you'd have been telling everyone you saw what the detective's got under his clothes any chance you got," he taunts. "So you must not have!"

Nate can't quite stifle his laugh this time, and Mason shoots him a dirty look.

Chase chuckles, low and smoky, and brings the glass to his lips again. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of tattoos. Almost more than bare skin by this point, I think?” He looks to Verda and Poname as if to confirm, though with an odd little smirk that makes Poname giggle helplessly and Verda roll his eyes.

“Verda would know best,” Poname teases. “How much of Chase have you seen?”

“Enough to know that, yes, the un-inked real estate is scant at best.” He takes a demure sip of his drink while Poname cackles.

“My boss fucking hates it,” Chase snorts into his glass, gesturing vaguely with the free hand he’s rescued from Felix for Unit Bravo to sit. He finally removes his boot from the edge of the table (which makes Poname throw her hands in the air) and uses it to push the chair next to him out, dark eyes flickering up to meet Mason’s for a fraction of a second, stoking a low sort of heat in his belly. He takes the offered seat before Felix can (to some very vocal complaining) and lounges back, angling the chair so he’s able to watch the detective without making it too obvious.

Nate slides into the booth next to Poname, who immediately turns her gaze almost reverently to him, and Adam sits stiffly alongside him, giving the both of them an unreadable look. Felix posts up alongside Verda, smiling with annoying cheerfulness across the table at Chase and Mason.

“If your boss hates them so much, how’d you get the job?” he chirps, still marvelling at all the inked skin on shameless display. It makes Mason feel a bit twitchy, and he swallows down the urge to bare his teeth at his teammate with two very ignorant human witnesses in front of him. He distracts himself by subtly eyeing a splash of color on Chase’s solid shoulder in the form of a wrought-iron lantern with a single guttering candle inside, wreathed in wilted and dying flowers that trails shed petals and leaves down his bicep to mingle with other patterns.

“Mum’s got connections,” Chase drawls, swirling his glass and impressively feigning nonchalance. The ice cubes inside clink softly. “As you all know.”

The quiet that follows is damning, and Chase breaks it by tossing back another gulp of his drink. This close, with his senses full of the detective’s overwhelming… everything, Mason can tell it’s rum and Coke-- rather heavy on the rum.

Nate is the first to speak, offering a politely neutral, “You told us you were given a choice between the police academy or prison.” His tone lacks any judgement, but his brows are furrowed just a bit. Beside him, Adam’s expression is carefully blank. Good for both of them, because even clearly, comfortably tipsy and oddly candid, Chase’s gaze is sharp and analytical, his shoulders just this side of too tight.

“Yeah, well,” he goes on, staring past Nate more than at him, “Rebecca’s influence goes a long way, I learned. So after I graduated from uni-- top of my fuckin’ class, thank you-- I went off on a bit of a wild tear, you know, acquiring cars under mysterious circumstances,” Poname sputters into her drink and laughs, and Chase just gives her a dry look before she regains herself enough for him to continue, “and selling them for scrap, I miraculously didn’t wind up going to straight to prison, thanks to Rebecca pulling some strings and dragging me back here by my ear.” His lip curls faintly, and there’s a flash of something in his expression that seems to drop the temperature in the bar by a few degrees. Felix meets Mason’s eye and visibly shudders.

“That doesn’t really explain the tattoos,” Mason says, offering an easy segue to something… else.

“Sort of does,” Chase says with a shrug, eyes heavy-lidded. “I had a pretty wild childhood up to that point. Got my first stick-and-poke when I was, what? Thirteen? I think the kid who gave it to me is working at the bank now.” He snorts. “My point is, it was the one thing about my life I ever got to control. I had to be perfect, but so long as I did well in my academic pursuits and set myself on exactly the path my mother wanted for me, in my free time I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.” He rolls his shoulders again and knocks back the last of his drink, setting the glass down just a little too hard on the sticky tabletop.

“I drank, I partied, I fucked around. What else do you do when you’re a kid with no parental influence in your life save for a picture on the mantel of an empty house? You go off the fucking wall is what you fuckin’ do. Anything for even a shred of attention. And I still managed to graduate with honors, right? First in my class in secondary school, and in uni. Didn’t matter, did it?” His face goes hard, brows furrowing. “She didn’t bother to congratulate me in person. I got a card on her office stationery that I doubt she even wrote herself. My graduation from uni she didn’t even respond to the invite I sent, but I still stupidly hoped she’d show. She didn’t care until I snapped and she actually had to step in. Take a break from her job and come collect her errant brat.” He scoffs, and it sounds like a gunshot in the sudden silence that follows.

Nate looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening, but Adam touches his wrist and it snaps closed. Even Felix is stunned silent. Verda and Poname just exchange twin looks of familiar distress, but before anyone can say anything, Chase stands up so suddenly his chair shrieks across the floor. Mason, Nate, Adam, and Felix all wince at the sound.

“I’m going to get another drink,” the detective mutters, stalking off into the crowd. Mason looks over his companions, eyebrows raised, decides he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, and gets up to follow.

Chase is leaning against the bar, asking the bartender for “something stronger than a rum and Coke, holy fuck,” and doesn’t even look up when Mason moves to stand beside him.

“I get moody when I get drunk,” he says by way of greeting.

“So you’re always drunk, then?" Mason drawls. "Not very professional of you, Detective."

Chase snorts and turns to look at him, but he doesn’t say anything-- just closes his eyes and rubs his hand over the rough fuzz of his shaved head. Mason’s gaze is drawn to his hand, and he spots a ouija planchette inked into one knuckle, a pentacle on the next, then an eye, and a crescent moon. They look old, faded and a bit blown out. When Chase opens his eyes again, the bartender has given him another drink, and from the smell, it’s a highball with a hefty pour of whiskey. He takes his first sip almost gratefully.

“Those the stick-and-pokes you mentioned?” Mason asks.

Chase holds up his hand. “Hm? Oh, yeah, a couple of ‘em. Not the first ones.” He turns his hand palm-up, and gestures with the glass. “There on the wrist.” Along the inside of his forearm is an intricate dagger with thorns twisted along the blade, but a few centimeters below the point, there is a tiny, blurry skull with a black forked tongue. “Toby Doherty, year 8. We put together a tattoo gun in his dad’s garage by pulling apart his little brother’s RC car. Think we got into more trouble for that than the tattoo.” He huffs out a rough little laugh. “I just think his mum was too nervous to actually shout at me, but I was never allowed back to their house afterwards because I was a bad influence.”

Mason reaches out and takes his hand, pulling it a bit closer so he can study the skull more closely. That’s what he tells himself, anyway, though he doesn’t think he’s fooled, and he doesn’t think the detective would be either. Especially when he rubs his thumb over the raised lines. He can feel Chase’s pulse through his thin skin, blood pumping hot and steady. This close, his pine-and-sage scent is stronger, and it fills Mason’s chest. "It's cute," he says, little more than a breath between them. He leans in, pulls the detective's wrist close to his mouth. He can feel the heat of his skin, almost taste the warmth just beneath, and Chase's breath is soft and quick and deafening in his ears.

“Chase!”

He drops the hand as if burned, and looks away from the detective before he can see how he reacts. Poname is toddling up to them, swaying a bit, and she wiggles her way between them to toss her arms around Chase's middle. He raises his highball in the air to keep her from spilling it, and she giggles.

"Chase, come back, you've got to show them!"

He groans. "Show them what?"

She only giggles louder and starts pulling him back towards the group, using the much steadier detective as a bit of a crutch to keep from stumbling through the milling crowd. When they arrive back at the table, things aren't really more comfortable than when they'd left, but they're not less so either, which Mason supposes is more than they could ask for. He takes up his seat again, but when Chase moves to do the same, Poname keeps hold of his arm.

"Wait, wait, you should be standing up for this," she giggles. Verda doesn't say anything, but he does snicker quietly into his tall glass of something that smells cloyingly of fruit syrup and sweetened vodka.

"Tina, what are you on about?" he sighs indulgently.

"You have to show them King Kitty!"

Mason’s interest is immediately piqued. Felix’s is too, clearly. He sits bolt upright and leans forward with that bright-eyed little imp grin he likes to give his teammates whenever he’s teasing them about… well, anything, really. “King Kitty?” he asks with eyes sparkling.

Chase groans, sets his drink on the table, and pushes Poname away, sending her stumbling into the table while she laughs brightly. “Don’t call it that, Tina. Christ.”

“You have to show them! He’s so good!” she insists, swaying towards him again. He dodges, and damn near skitters around the table to press into Verda’s space, which would have given Poname the means to corner him if she could figure out how to move around Chase’s abandoned chair as well as Mason (side-eyeing her cautiously) without getting tangled or falling over entirely. Verda continues to laugh at their antics, pushing Chase’s hip as it crowds into his space and threatens to make him spill his drink.

“Come on, now, what could it hurt?” he chides playfully, slipping his finger into the belt loop of the detective’s cargo pants and tugging playfully.

“Hey!” Chase barks, shifting away. All that manages to accomplish is tugging down his waistband the slightest bit, exposing the edge of his black underwear and a thin sliver of skin-- inked with designs Mason can’t properly parse, though he can’t help but lean forward a bit for a closer look. “I’ll have both of your asses for harassment, don’t test me!”

“Chase, our precinct is tiny,” Verda hiccups, finally making the decision (though it clearly pains him) to set his drink aside, since it seems Chase is perfectly willing to clamber over him to escape Poname’s grabbing hands, “I’m the HR department. You haven’t got a case here.”

“Show theeeeem,” Poname whines, putting one hand on Mason’s shoulder to steady herself. A low growl rumbles in his chest, but one sharp look from Nate (who is trying very hard not to smile at the scene, while Felix is outright giggling, and Adam simply looks confused and uncomfortable) quiets him. She smells strongly like some sort of bubblegum perfume that tickles the back of his tongue and leaves it feeling itchy and thick.

“I still have to work with them,” Chase protests, but his resolve is visibly wavering, especially with the lack of options to escape.

“We won’t tell anyone!” Felix blurts, leaning across the table. “Promise!”

Mason doesn’t chime in, but it’s a near thing. The last few weeks he’s tested the limits of both Adam and Nate’s patience with his innuendos about the detective, and he even thinks Agent Kingston might be one lewd joke from stabbing him with a fountain pen.

But Chase is weakening, he can tell. Mostly because he can’t seem to figure out how to climb over Verda, and Poname’s hands have found his belt. “Fine! Fuck, fine, you menace!” he exclaims, pushing her off with a surprising amount of gentleness, considering his tone. “Just get off me!”

Poname backs off obediently, but she’s still giggling up a storm, flushed with the effort, her hair a bit mussed. Verda looks entirely unbothered, and he takes up his drink again with a smug smile. Chase returns to his chair but doesn’t sit, and Poname returns to cozying up to Nate and being entirely oblivious to Adam trying very hard not to look annoyed.

Chase takes a deep, bolstering breath, snatches up his drink, and downs about half in one swig. “You’ve all got to swear you won’t breathe a word to Rebecca about this,” he says with grave, if faintly slurred, severity.

“Oh, absolutely,” Mason agrees, quickly enough that Felix shoots him another infuriating smirk.

“Scout’s honor!” Felix blurts, nearly bouncing in his seat.

Nate smiles and nods, looking for all the world like he’s simply indulging the shenanigans, but he’s clearly curious himself. Chase isn’t terribly secretive about most things-- he’s actually pretty fucking blunt-- so this has to be… interesting, for him to put up such a fight. Adam looks like he’s bolstering himself to look away as quickly as possible so he can have some plausible deniability should Agent Kingston find out regardless.

Chase’s hands go to his belt, and Mason’s stomach clenches, heat rushing under his skin. The detective unbuckles with practiced ease, flicks the snap open, and tugs the edge of his cargo trousers and briefs (are they briefs? Mason would certainly like to find out) down just a bit. His other hand goes to his fitted shirt, tugging it up.

The hair beneath his navel is thick and dark, and the trail leading down into his trousers is very, very inviting, but Mason’s attention is drawn inexorably to the design inked into the soft, brown skin. He supposes he should have expected the name “King Kitty” to give it away, but he couldn’t have predicted what he was in for.

It’s a snarling black cat, cartoonishly stylized, wearing a jauntily cocked royal crown. Underneath, spanning from hipbone to hipbone, are the words “BOW DOWN” written in bold, jagged script.

“Everyone, meet King Kitty,” Poname proclaims with a sloppy, grand gesture to Chase’s pelvis.

“Yeah, yeah, are you happy now?” Chase groans, hiking his waistband back up and buckling his belt. He tugs his shirt down and flops into the chair, taking another slog of his drink. It’s almost gone already, and he’s sure to be feeling it soon.

“Absolutely tickled,” Verda says primly.

“Oh, completely,” Poname chimes in.

“Wouldn’t mind seeing him again,” Mason rumbles, and Chase’s eyes flick to him for a split second, dark and sparking, brows quirked. Nate sighs audibly.

“Well, are you going to tell the story too?” Verda presses. “Share with the class?”

Chase drops into his chair and kicks his feet up again, and Poname makes a vague sound of protest. This time, at least, a sharp glare shuts her up. “Might as fuckin’ well, right?” he snorts. “So, I had this ex in college--”

Both Verda and Poname make strange noises, and when Mason spares them a glance (still a bit caught up in eyeballing the detective’s lounging about like a lazy cat-- which is oddly appropriate, all things considered) they are both looking somewhere between annoyed and downright angry. Chase actually looks… guilty, for a split second, before he waves it away and continues.

“Anyway. He wasn’t, uh… Very good in bed. But I loved him or some nonsense,” he scoffs and gestures vaguely with his glass, “so I put up with it. Because I couldn’t tell him he hadn’t gotten me off to his face, right? He was a sex god, according to him, always hit the marks,” he takes a sip and snorts a bit into his drink. Verda barks out a sharp, sudden laugh that seems to startle even him.

“He did not say that! Chase, please tell me he didn’t say that to you!” he squeaks out between ragged, uncontrollable laughter.

Poname is collapsing against Nate’s side, consumed by a fit of wheezing giggles.

Chase rubs a hand down his face and huffs out a laugh of his own. “He fucking did and I have to live with the fact that I continued to sleep with him after that, every day for the rest of my life. Point is, after a lot of general university stress, I got tired of faking orgasms to save his ego, and I finally told him he hadn’t gotten me off once since we’d started dating. Crushed him, of course, and we did break up for a bit because of it. And in the interim, I thought it’d be a good idea, to, ah, ensure that the next one wouldn’t be so… lost. I had a bit of liquid courage, lied admirably to my favorite tattoo artist when she asked if I was sober, and King Kitty was born. Then when I inevitably made the bad decision to get back with my ex, the next time we tumbled into bed, I just pointed at the instructions and told him to get to work.”

He finishes off his drink, puts his foot back on the ground with a heavy clunk, and leans his elbows on the table. “Turns out, he worked best when I was a bit mean to him. Apparently it’s a thing he wasn’t aware of. Go figure.”

“Christ, no wonder he only bothers you more when you’re a prick to him,” Verda scoffs with a hearty roll of his eyes. “You’ve trained it into him!”

"That is… quite the tale," Nate offers magnanimously, eyebrows threatening to make a break for his hairline. He looks to Adam, who is looking away and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't listening at all. Mason gets the idea he knows well enough that if he opens his mouth, what comes out is likely to piss off their dear detective.

Felix about falls over cackling, which is a fine distraction for Mason to lean in close, snagging Chase's attention and murmuring, "Wouldn't mind you bossing me around a bit," with a sly little smirk.

The look Chase gives him is dry as a fucking desert, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners. "You have proved on multiple occasions that you absolutely do mind," he fires back.

And that's what delights him about the detective, he thinks. He's sharp-tongued, and he doesn't try to dull it. Prickly, but clever, unafraid to say what's on his mind. And he's never once rebuffed Mason's advances outright, just… Spiked them back with sly smirks and raised eyebrows. Challenging, a sort of unspoken, "Oh, so you think you can handle me?"

Mason would very, very much like to handle him.

"Well, I think I'd be a lot more willing to follow orders if less clothes were involved," he slyly remarks, and Chase's dark eyes brighten just a bit.

“You have to earn that privilege, pretty boy," he murmurs, lips curling on one side.

Mason is a breath away from leaning closer, when Verda's phone goes off and he stands up, startled, and bumps the table. Mason has to snap one hand out to grab Chase's empty glass before it goes careening to the floor. Poname looks a bit astounded by his (far too fast) reflexes, but she's also more than a bit foggy with liquor and likely to forget quickly.

"Shit, sorry," Verda offers sluggishly, blinking a bit behind his smart browline spectacles. "That's Eric," he explains, grabbing his coat. He's steadier than Poname, but not by much, and he leans heavily on Chase's chair when he bends to press a kiss to his bristly scalp. "Come on, you reprobate. Time to get you home." Chase grumbles and halfheartedly swats at him, a bit of red creeping up to his ears from beneath his high collar. “You too, Tina!” Verda calls, “Leave the poor man alone, would you?"

Poname, who was beginning to list against a somewhat bemused Nate's shoulder, sits bolt upright and blinks, then pouts a bit. "Hm? Oh… okay." She pushes unsteadily to her feet, helped in no small part by a few gentle nudges from Nate, and she turns to give him a giggle and a wiggly-fingered wave before Verda’s put-upon sigh spurs her to totter towards him. Adam watches her go, making a face he likely thinks is impassive, but Mason knows well enough the tense pucker between his eyebrows and the grim tightness around his mouth.

“Remember what I said,” Chase offers, heaving to his feet with a low groan that immediately drags Mason’s attention from Adam’s silent simmering, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slinging it over his shoulders. “Not a word to Rebecca about any of this.” He gives Adam a long look in particular. “My options are limited in terms of retaliation, but I can be pretty damned creative. Don’t test me.” His eyes flicker almost instinctively to Mason, and his lips twitch, but he says nothing more before he swaggers with surprising steadiness after his coworkers.

“Bye, Detective!” Felix hollers, waving enthusiastically. Mason winces, but comforts himself with staring unabashedly at the detective’s retreating backside. The second he’s out the door, Felix rounds on Adam with a bright laugh. “Look at you! You managed to be in the same room as the Detective and you didn’t get into a fight!”

“Because he kept his mouth shut the entire time,” Mason snickers. “Looked like it was killing you not to talk shit.”

“I don’t talk shit,” Adam snaps, and Nate helpfully slides out of the booth so he can escape as well. “I just point out when the Detective is being…”

Mason raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to come up with a word that’s not an insult.

“Difficult,” is what Adam settles on, giving Nate a sidelong look.

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know anything about being difficult,” Felix chimes in helpfully. Adam scowls at him and adjusts his jacket. Nate is clearly trying not to laugh and make Adam even more annoyed.

“You’re the one who felt the need to hassle the detective on his off time,” Mason hums not-so-helpfully. “Can’t blame him for being annoyed.”

“And you can’t say anything either,” Felix chirps, “Since you just went right along with it.” He’s grinning, wide and wicked, and he sways into Mason's space and gets shoved for his trouble. He totters dramatically for a second, then pops back up and snickers. "You're not as smooth as you think," he taunts. "I saw your eyes almost pop out of your skull when you saw those tattoos!"

Mason shoves him again, and Nate chuckles. "There were a lot more than I would have guessed."

"And I bet there's a lot more where we couldn't see," Felix adds, sticking his tongue between his teeth and waggling his eyebrows. Mason glances around the bar, the crowd having thinned in the last half hour or so, and decides he can get away with putting the little brat in a headlock.

Nate sighs at them. Adam rolls his eyes skyward, but they let Felix flail and squawk for a bit before Adam barks out, “Enough!” and Mason obediently releases him so he can tug his fancy scarf forcefully back into place and adjust his beanie. “Let’s just go.”

“This was nice, wasn’t it?” Nate offers with a bit of genuine cheer as they file out the door and leave the bar behind. “Getting out? Talking to people?” He nudges Adam when he doesn’t respond, and gets a faint grunt for his trouble. “Seeing the sights?”

Mason lights up the second they’re outside, inhales, and exhales a long plume of smoke, and smirks a bit around the filter. “I enjoyed the sights, at least.”

“I had fun!” Felix chirps, having already moved on from Mason’s rough treatment. “We should spend more time with the detective outside work stuff. He’s cool when he’s not all--” He makes a face, stiff and frowning with a crinkled brow, that looks pretty damned similar to the face he makes when he’s mocking their illustrious leader. Mason almost bites down on the filter of his cigarette to stifle a laugh.

“It was nice to see him unwind a bit,” Nate chuckles. “His friends seem… fun,” his mouth quirks a bit, somewhat uncomfortably, “Friendly.”

Adam makes a disgruntled noise. “Too friendly,” he mutters. Mason is about to lose the fight with himself and start snickering.

Ah, hell, he can’t resist. “I dunno, I think Natey might have a chance with the Bobblehead.” The look Adam gives him could kill a lesser man, but he just gives a lopsided grin in return. Felix, however, loses it to the point he almost falls over in the street.

Nate, ever the diplomat, just chuckles a bit and says, “Officer Poname is lovely, but she’s a bit… young for me, I think.”

Yeah, about eight-hundred-something years too young, Mason thinks, rolling his eyes. But, unlike Felix, he’s made it a point not to get involved in the love lives of people he’s got to work with. He’s already got his hands full trying to figure out the detective. Though, he supposes, he’s got to work with the detective, too. On a more permanent basis, now, it seems. But Chase is a lot of things-- stubborn, headstrong, blunt and honest-- but he’s not the type to let a bit of fun get in the way of his job, and neither is Mason. The second they stop dancing around each other, Mason will lay it out plain for him, and if he’s not on board with a bit of fun between co-workers, then that’s it. No problems.

He takes another puff of his smoke and lets the others get ahead of him, Felix still chattering happily and Nate fielding it with his usual calm enthusiasm while Adam manages to both sulk and stalk admirably alongside them both. Their voices fade into the background, and he allows himself a private little smirk, thinking about those fierce dark eyes, that stout, compactly muscled body with its bold ink, and privately wonders how much more is hidden under the detective’s clothes, and the best way to see them all.

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thescarcasticwriter · 4 years

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Special (Ben x Lantix Reader)

A/N: So I got this cool request on Wattpad for a Latinx reader. Now I try to avoid making (Y/N) and gender or ethnicity but that's mostly because I don't want to exclude anyone of color since most reader inserts are white. But people of all ethnicities deserve representation so here I go. Just know that I am very white and grew up in a very white town so if I accidentally write something that's actually offensive please call me out (nicely tho). Just note that, per the request, the only things I will 'define' the reader as having is dark curly brown hair and brown eyes. And you have Scarlet Witch's powers basically so yay. Also, the queen in this is named after the requester!

You fidgeted in your seat, nervous yet excited to get to Aurdon Prep. Your mother smiled softly at you as she reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you excited about your new school?" she asked, pushing back a brown curl from your face.

You nodded, gazing out the window, taking in the passing cottages and trees. "Yes."

"But?"

You smiled at your mom and she gave you a knowing look. "But... I'm pretty sure no one else has magic like I do."

"That doesn't matter," your mother comforted. "You are a special person and I have no doubts you will endear yourself to whoever you want."

The limo you were in pulled into the main circle of Aurdon Prep along with the other students who were moving in. The butler opened the door and you stepped out into the sun, adjusting your clothes and hair as you looked around. You noticed people glancing in your direction, likely confused as to who you were. Your mother stepped out behind you and rested a hand on your shoulder as people began to unload your luggage.

"Queen Karina Victoria! What a pleasure it is to have you at our school!" Greeted a smiling woman in a light blue suit.

"Fairy Godmother," your mother greeted, "This is my child, princex (Y/N) Victoria."

You smiled at Fairy Godmother and gave a small bow of your head. When you looked back up you noticed someone else had joined you. He had short brown hair and the cutest dimpled smile. When he realized you were looking at him he offered his hand to you.

"Hello, I'm Prince Ben. It's a pleasure to meet you princex (Y/N)." You took his offered hand, giving him a short but firm handshake. You pulled back a bit abruptly as you felt your magic spark at the contact. Ben looked confused for a moment before resuming his smile.

"Indeed it is!" chirped Fairy Godmother. She clapped her hands together. "I believe her majesty wished to speak with me, so would you be a dear Ben and show princex (Y/N) around?"

You looked at your mother with a questioning look but she just smiled reassuringly so you turned back to Ben as Fairy Godmother walked away with your mother. Ben didn't say anything, just continued to look at you with a dopey smile and a slight blush. You looked at him weirdly.

"Um, Ben?" Ben startled out his stupor. "Tour?"

"Ah, yes!" Ben exclaimed, clapping his hands together before realizing he just copied Fairy Godmother. He put his hands into the pockets of his coats.

"Well aren't you just a regular Prince Charming?" you said sarcastically.

"Thank you?" Ben looked confused, obviously not sure if you were being sarcastic.

“That was my sarcastic voice," you assured him,

“That sounded a lot like your normal voice.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ben chuckled at that so you figured he wasn't offended. You decided to offer your arm to him, raising your eyebrows at him. He blushed again (still cute) and linked your arm with his and began the tour.

~Time Skip~

You were laughing at Ben as he led you to the auditorium for the beginning of the assembly. You had really enjoyed your tour, though you honestly were only paying partial attention to it, more interested in talking to Ben about your interests and lives. As you reach the door you notice your mother and Fairy Godmother. You separated from Ben and went over to your mother. You gave her a hug and she kissed your forehead.

"My darling, remember that you are special and that I will always love you," she whispered to you before she pulled away.

"I love you too, mom," you replied as she pushed another curl away. "See you in a few months?"

She nodded, "But remember I'm always a phone call away."

Once your mother left Fairy Godmother smiled at you and asked you to come with her, prompting a confused look between you and Ben.

"No worries," she assured, "I just want to see how Mx. (Y/N) is doing so far."

Sasiftyed, Ben promised to save you a seat before Fairy Godmother gently lead you to an empty nearby classroom.

"So, what do you think of our lovely school so far?" Fairy Godmother asked.

"I think I'm going to have a good time. Prince Ben seems really cool."

"Wonderful." She clapped her hands again. "Now onto a bit of business. Your mother and I were discussing the subject of your magic."

You felt a moment of panic. "It's okay, I promise I won't use it for anything bad, I really only ever use it to grab things that across my room!"

"It's alright," Fairy Godmother soothed. "I have no doubts that you are a responsible young adult just as your mother assured me. No, what I wish to discuss is if you would be willing to share about yourself and your magic at the end of the assembly. You are the only other royal, besides Ben, that will actually be taking a throne and your mother and I felt that if you introduced yourself to everyone it would lead to fewer people trying to, ah, mob you later."

You thought about it for a second. "Deal, only if I get to chose how to show my magic."

"Perfect!"

~Time Skip~

You were sitting next to Ben in the front row, a girl named Audrey on Ben's other side and a shy girl name Jane on your other side. You bit your lip nervously as the assembly started to come to an end. There were a lot of people here, but at least what you had planned will be funny.

"Lastly," Fairy Godmother began, smiling at you, "we have a new student that we would like you all to meet!"

That was your queue. You stood up from your seat, winking at Ben as you walked again (and he blushed again, damn). You walked up the stage and grab the microphone from Fairy Godmother. You took a steadying breath and faced the crowd. You could see some curious looks, but most of the audience was hidden by the lights.

"Hello, I am crown princex (Y/N) Victoria of Edronia. I am sixteen and will ascend the Edronian throne in two years. I came to Aruadon in order to learn more about your way of life in hopes of helping me in the future." You paused in consideration. That was all you could think of. Well, here goes nothing. "Okay this is going to sound weird, but would you mind coming up here Ben?"

You saw Ben point to himself to confirm your request. You nodded at him and sent him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. He walked up to the stage, offering the crowd a smile. There was whispering in the crowd, seeming confused. You glanced at Fairy Godmother who looked confused as well. You turned to Ben, lowered the microphone, and asked, "I know we just meet, but would you trust me for a moment?"

He nodded after a moment, not seemingly terribly scared so you decided to continue. "So I know magic isn't really a thing in Auradon but it is in Edronia and I was born with a special type."

Without further ado you sent out (F/C) tendrils of magic to Ben, gently lifting him a few feet in the air, nothing crazy. The whispering increased as you lowered Ben and smiled one last time at the audience before handing Fairy Godmother (who looked a bit paler) her microphone back. You offered Ben your arm again, hoping he would take it. He started at you in a daze, again.

"Ben?" you called nervously. He broke out and smiled at you again, taking your arm and leading back down to your seats as Fairy Godmother tried to quiet the crowd.

"Would you," Ben paused, looking at you hesitantly, "would you be willing to show me more of your magic later? You know, without levitating me."

You chuckled at him as you sat down, noticing Jane's awed stare. "Buy me food and I'll show you."

"Deal."

A/N: Hope this wasn't horrible. If any Latinx reader has suggestions for improvement feel free to share! As I said, the last thing I want to do is be offensive in some way.

#descendants #descendants ben #prince ben x reader #prince ben #reader insert #latinx reader

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter One: Evaluation

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Shane Benton gets a new patient, veteran “Sy” Syverson. He’s one of the most complex cases she’s had, in more ways than one. She thinks he’s already starting to like her and what’s worse...she feels the same.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None, really, mentions of war and trauma and some hate on the Chicago Cubs, but like…it’s not MEAN! (I’m a Missouri girl, and for the purposes of this fic, Sy is a Missouri boy, and we will bleed for our sports teams. Lol!)

A/N: Inspired by this post right here, and hopefully turning into some splendid fluffy and smutty stuff for my lovely Cavillry babes all around including the two that essentially forced me into this. Lol! (I’m thinking I’ll have at least three or four more chapters.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3.

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it!

Shane was working on her morning's notes as she scarfed down her lunch. So many hand's-on patients made for a busy so called "lunch hour." Time which their boss was always reminded them was only half for their personal use, and could be taken away if census demanded. She was pretty sure it wasn't legal to make such threats, but thankfully, the secretaries usually had the therapists backs.

As she typed, she got a notification in her messenger app.

Just a head's up, your 1:30 is such a major babe I could barely look at him while I checked him in, so good luck with that.

Heather, one of her best friends in the office, had warned her, as she always did when there was a potential problem with a patient.

Oh, and his KOOS score is 27.5! Yikes! Shit, she'd seen arthritic grandparents with better scores on that test, which essentially rated your ability with the affected knee. Ideal was 100. She pulled up his chart review to see what she was getting herself into with this guy.

Tricare insurance, so, a vet. And only a year older than she was, so, recent discharge, or even active duty. She pulled up his order…shit. Traumatic tear of the anterior cruciate ligament. With damage to the medial collateral ligament as well. And a patellar dislocation. Repairs had been done, but this guy was in bad shape. He was going to be coming a while.

She replied to Heather.

Damn, that's bad. I'm looking at his order, and I'm already thinking I'm gonna want to try to keep him on my schedule if we can. And three times a week. If not with me, Jordan, if he's got openings. Can you start working on that when you have time?

Sure thing…I think you'll be glad you kept him on your caseload once you get a look at his face…and like all of him. Even on crutches, he's tall as shit!

Heather, come on. I'm a professional. I have a doctorate ffs. Lol

You also have a uterus, to the best of my knowledge, and it's about to explode. Promise.

Haha, okay. I'll be out for Prince Charming in about ten. Lemme pop a breath mint and run a brush through my hair.

Good call.

Shane did just that, but still pulled her dark hair back into her customary functional high ponytail, made sure there was no stray food on her shirt, and headed out of her treatment room for her patient.

As she walked down the hall to the waiting area to get him, she noticed a slumped and bearded figure leaning forward on a set of crutches, a KC Chiefs baseball cap slipping up off of his forehead revealing short cropped dark hair. She smiled at his repping one of her home teams, and stepped up to him, greeting him warmly, but formally.

"Mr. Syverson?"

"Ma'am." he said, as he adjusted his cap and stood immediately at attention, still relying on the crutches, but making himself as tall as possible. He really was a soldier. Despite her proximity to Fort Leonard Wood here in St. Robert, Missouri, she didn't see many military men.

"Hi, My name is Shane. I'm a physical therapist. I'm going to be working with you today."

"Oh, okay. They told me my therapists name was Shane, I figured…"

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Don't worry, I act like one of the guys. You'll hardly notice."

"I doubt that." he muttered, but she ignored it. She didn't know which would be worse. Him being a macho chauvinist who couldn't deal with a female therapist, or having a crush on her and making things weird. She'd had both. And it never ended well for her.

"Well, let's go have a chat in the treatment room."

They walked toward the room she'd just left, and when they arrived, she asked him to set on her plinth mat.

"Could you please verify your date of birth for me? Gotta make sure I got the right patient in here."

"May the 5th, 1983."

"Thanks, and the last four of your social?"

He told her, quietly, and against her will, a shiver ran up her spine at the softness the bear of a man exhibited in his voice when trying to maintain privacy. But she kept her composure.

"Excellent." she began typing her eval note, and asking him questions. He began telling the harrowing story of the mission, the mission that effectively ended his career in the military as he knew it. At lest, what he could tell her. Obviously some of it was classified, but certain details she would need to know in order to know how he it and how to treat him. She could tell he was trying to hold it together. Reliving the trauma was probably triggering to an extent. Her heart went out for the broad-chested, blue-eyed man.

"God, that's incredible. The fact that you're alive is amazing, Mr. Syverson."

"I go by Sy, ma'am. And as aware as I am of that, it's tough to feel good about it when some friends in my squad weren't so lucky." he examined the pattern on the tile floor as he rubbed the heel of his hand against the wide thigh of his injured leg. A nervous habit, she presumed. She had similar quirks.

"That must be difficult for you." she knew she was getting off-track from what she needed for her SOAP note, but after all, he was going to be on her caseload exclusively for the foreseeable future. She'd have time to flesh out the goals and basically finish the eval next visit.

"Yeah, but I know there's a lotta guys' got it worse'n me, ma'am."

"We think that should make it better, but it never does. And if I'm calling you 'Sy,' you have to cut the ma'am business. It's Shane, even to my patients." she smiled.

"Sorry, m--sorry. Habits die hard."

"Just like John McClean." she chuckled, not expecting him to get her ridiculous movie humor. But he laughed.

"Did you just make a Die Hard reference?" he smiled, and the sunshine of it paired with the stunning blue of his eyes nearly sent her flying into the wall. Thankfully, she had something to occupy her gaze in the form of her laptop, where she tried to document on him.

"Did you just get one of my movie references? Because nobody around here appreciates that I'm a total movie nerd. I'm wasted on these people."

"Ya know, maybe you're right about feeling like I'm getting PT from a guy." he chuckled.

"I told ya!" she laughed, but tried not to let her heart sink too far.

The evaluation continued with her doing strength and range of motion measurements on his knee. "Okay, push against my hand…now resist when I push…now bring your foot back against my hand…and resist when I pull." she did this with both sides to compare relative strength. "Great job. Okay, I'm going to see how much range you have in your knee. Lay back on the table for me, please." she thought she saw a flirty glint in his eye, but again, she ignored it. She had a job to do. And it was to hold this goniometer up to his knee and see how many degrees of flexion and extension this man had in the joint while trying not to think any salacious thoughts about the thigh connected to it.

"Okay, now, listen, Sy, I know it goes against your instinct, but I'm looking for pain-free range of motion, here, so don't be a hero. Don't move it farther than you can without hurting it. And let me know if it starts to hurt when I move it."

"Yes, ma'am." he winked.

"I'll let that one slide, I guess." she giggled. She concentrated on the numbers she was getting from the big protractor, and typing them into her eval, and not the man lying before her.

"Okay, I'm gonna get the other knee now to compare for goals."

He nodded.

"Were you pretty active before this happened?" she was more or less making small talk, as she could tell by the condition of the rest of his body that he was incredibly fit.

"Yes, m--yes, I was. We had a gym on base, nothin' like what y'all have here, just some machines and a few free weights."

"No bikes or treadmills or anything?" She herself liked the elliptical, but knew it was a considered more of a girl's machine in the gym world.

"Nah, with electric being spotty where we were stationed, we sorta had to…get creative, I guess you could say, for cardio." she let it slide, apparently there was an inside joke to which she wasn't privy.

"Right, understandable. Well, here, we don't have to get that creative. I'm gonna put you on some equipment gradually, and just warm up the knee, then get to work on joint mobilization and myofascial release. But at this point in Dr. Potter's protocol, he only wants gentle stretching and weight bearing as tolerated. We can start a bit of strengthening after next week."

"So, you think I'll be back to running anytime soon?"

"We can make that a goal, Sy, because I can absolutely get you there. But you're going to have to take it slow. You've got not one, but three major injuries we have to contend with, and there is major trauma in there. But it will heal. With time and effort. And like I said, don't be a hero. The number one rule of therapy is 'if it hurts, don't do it.'"

"I'll hold you to that, m--Shane."

"You're a quick study, Sy. I think you'll be alright. Looks like Heather's put some appointments in for you already. If any of them don't work, call us, and we'll try to get them swapped. I'd like to keep you on my schedule as much as possible, but if there's a conflict in your schedule, any of our therapists will be terrific. And I'll make sure they're looking at your chart and protocol thoroughly before seeing you."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Okay, I'm gonna print out your schedule for you, and a few exercise handouts I'd like you to work on, especially on days you don't come here. And I'll know if you don't do them, because you won't have improved…so, you better do them."

"Yes, ma'am." she half expected a salute. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, maybe I'll give you three strikes on the ma'am thing."

"Baseball fan, too?"

"Not that three strikes is so obscure that I'd have to be to know it, but, yes! Major St. Louis Cardinals fan."

"I knew I was gonna like you from the start. Although, being brought up 'round Kansas City m'self, I'm more of a Royals fan."

"Hey, only time I don't root for KC is when they're playing my Redbirds. And even if my team loses to them, it hurts less than if they lose to, say…the Cubs." they shared a scowl of disdain for the Chicago team. "Although, I was happy for them and their fans when they won the series back in 16."

"Yeah, I guess we could afford to let them win one in a hundred years…I'm hoping their next one comes long after I'm in the ground." he chuckled.

"Can't have them getting a big head, can we?"

"Nope! Sure can't!" they both laughed at their mutual interest in dissing rival sports teams.

"Okay, I'll be right back with those handouts." she ran to the office all in one machine to grab the papers she'd printed for him, making sure they were all his and not another patient's. She put them in one of their folders and headed back to her room where he sat on the mat, waiting for her with a smile under his rather impressive beard.

"Before I let you out of here, what questions can I answer for you about what we did today?"

"Oh, uh, nothing comes to mind. You explained everything really well. Did you look at my schedule? Am I with you all the time?"

"Hmm, let's see here, looks like the next two, yes, but I'm off next week, so Heather put you with Jordan, which is what I asked her to do. You two will work great together and he's got a great instinct for injuries like this. And I'll talk to him before I leave. He's one of the best PTAs I've ever worked with, I promise."

"I guess, if you have to take a vacation. I'll see you next time though."

"I'm looking forward to it. That's when the real work will begin, Sy. And our number is on in this paperwork if you have questions, and I've put my card in here, too." they shook hands, and he grabbed the folder from her.

She saw him out of the room and into the lobby. She'd finished with him a bit early, but her next one was already waiting. She needed a break. To collect herself. To breathe.

"Jason! Hey! Go on and get on the recumbent bike, level two. Ride until I get there. We'll get a lot done today if you're already warmed up. I've got a note to finish. And then I'll be in. I should be 15 or less."

While the 19 year old with a torn meniscus hopped to her instructions, she went back to her computer to attempt to finish Sy's eval and pretend that she didn't already have a serious and intense crush on him. This was going to be a long twelve weeks…at least.

Up Next: Chapter Two-Therapeutic Procedure

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #netflix sand castle #sand castle

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lilaacstars · 3 years

Text

with a touch of gravity (and quite madly)

ch. 5: my broken drum.

Marinette holds a glass of wine close to her chest as she crosses the sea of people in the apartment.

It is still a mystery for her how Alya manages to befriend so many people and be comfortable with all of them in her apartment. Marinette has always been social, but never to this level. She swears she just passed by a girl Alya and she once met at a Zara store as they were in the queue for the changing room.

Alya is moving around from group to group, and Marinette doesn’t want to drag her away to stay with her. She searches the room with her sight, looking for a place to enjoy her glass without anyone loudly speaking in her ear, as they chew the amazing food Alya’s mother has prepared for the occasion.

The balcony is crowded with people smoking, but just on the corner of the window and the couch, there’s a perfectly calm space for her to be. Right beside a table of already served glasses and more alcohol and liquor for people to come and choose their favourite poison.

The smoke doesn’t get in and no one is actually sitting on the couch, and so she goes, sitting on the arm of the couch and drinking her wine.

keep reading or read on ao3

Nino should arrive at any minute with the ice Alya sent him to buy, she just has to wait for his familiar face to appear on the door and call for him before anyone else decides to speak with him.

Or for Adrien to appear first.

Marinette has her phone in her hand and looks down at the screen, but no messages have popped. It bothers her, making her frown.

Adrien should’ve landed an hour ago and he hasn’t texted. If something had happened to make him let, then he would have texted too. But he hasn’t.

Her fingers tap across the screen a million times, scribbling and erasing, and going back to write a message that she never ends up sending.

It is ridiculous to get so fixated on this little thing, that in any other day wouldn’t be a problem, but with how terrible the last weeks have been, being away from him, and knowing that he got angry when she fell asleep on the call, her nerves are getting the best of her.

“Oh, but would you look at that, if it isn’t my favourite ex-girlfriend!”

“I’m your only ex-girlfriend,” She laughs, leaving her now empty glass back on the table and jumping to hug him.

“I’m counting ex-flings, and even if not, you’re still my favourite.”

“Then if those are the rules, you’re my favourite ex too.”

They both laugh and start chatting not waiting for a second to catch up on life.

Obviously, one of the first things Luka asks, is where is Adrien.

“He is supposed to come here straight from the airport,” Marinette says and takes two champagne flutes from the table, offering one to Luka, “But I am afraid the plane might have run late.”

“Thanks, Nette,” He smiles, receiving the flute, “Where did he go to now?” “Milano, the offices there had a mishap, and his father sent him to fix it,” Marinette resists the urge to pout, “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“In the kitchen. She needed to take her medicine and asked Alya for water. She is gonna knock you out with love, she wouldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to be back so she could see you.” “Aw,” Marinette smiled tenderly, “I’ve missed Zoé too. I’ve missed you too.”

“And I’ve missed you. I miss going to concerts together. We should find a concert on a date we are both free and just go. Paris or London, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’d love that! I heard All Time Low has an upcoming tour, they tend to book shows in London.”

“That’s great!”

Luka continues naming bands that they could start keeping an eye on to go see in concert when Zoé joins them cheerfully, running towards Marinette and almost making them both drop to the floor.

With her there, the conversation turns to their life in London, their upcoming plans for films and music, and then they ask about her. They want to know how is she doing at uni, if her last project is going well if any brand has called for her to do her internship.

The conversation flows at a rhythm that makes her happy and at ease, completely forgetting about her phone and leaving it on her purse back on the couch as they move to the kitchen to look for food as they speak.

The lights of the kitchen are dim as in the rest of the apartment, with the oven on burning giving a calming orange tint to the environment, the bar doesn’t have the chairs on, displaying the food for the people in the living and dining room to go pick up, so Marinette and her friends group up on the other side, Luka leaning against the fridge, Zoé by his side and Marinette looking at them.

They pick up on waffles on sticks and chat a little bit more.

Marinette is eating her second waffle -a chocolate filled one with strawberries- when arms wrap around her waist and lips brush against the shell of her ear.

“ Princess, ” He purrs and the initial surprises fades away as she melts into his arms.

“Adrien!” Zoé and Luka cheer happily.

“Sunshine boy is finally here!” Alya says walking towards them and winks at Marinette.

Marinette turns her head to him and smiles. Adrien has already read her mind and leans in for a kiss.

“I missed you so much,” She says giving him another kiss and turning around completely this time, to see him face to face.

Adrien smiles and caresses her cheek.

“Me too, so damn much,” He kisses her forehead.

With so many people present, and being in the middle of a conversation, they can’t have the rencounter they wish they could.

“Do you want something to drink or eat, mon coeur? I just finished a waffle, I’m sure you’re going to love them, I can pick one for you as I go pick up a new glass of wine.”

“I’ll just have wine, I ate a sandwich on the plane so I’m fine,” He smiles and kisses her cheek before they walk towards the drinks’ table.

“When did you land? I thought you would be here before midnight.”

“Same hour I told you, there was a problem with my bags that made me stay at the airport longer than I should have.”

“Oh, that sucks. You should have texted or called me,” She gives him the glass and drinks of her own.

“I didn’t want to worry you, and I was coming either way. If I had taken a little longer I would have let you know.”

“Okay,” Marinette nods, not wanting to fight for something so little, even if it still bothers her, “Did you have a good flight? You look a little tired.”

“It was… not the best,” He winces, “I tried to look good…”

“And you do, I love how that shirt looks on you.”

He does look pulled together and nice on that dark turquoise silk shirt and black skinny trousers with sleek boots to match, but she can see through all that.

“You looks handsome as ever, but I know you well.”

“Thank you,” He smiles and squeezes her shoulder as she serves their wine, “You look stunning by the way… if there weren’t so many people around I would show you how much I’m loving how you look on that dress.” He says that in a whisper and a playful smile curls on his lips.

Marinette turns around with a shaky smile and bright red cheeks.

“What a shame.” Adrien tsks and shrugs, “I can show you later if you’re still interested.”

“I might,” She leans forward, pressing herself to him as she passes him his glass.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” He winks and they meet in a short kiss.

Adrien puts his arm around her waist and they walk back to the kitchen together.

“There they are, we thought we were going to be forgotten,” Alya teases.

“Sadly, I have manners,” Adrien flashes a smile.

“You still got here late.” “The airport’s fault, not mine. I’ll make it up with my gift, I promise.”

“Marinette told us you were in Milano,” Zoé says.

“Yes, there was something wrong with the promotion in the stores, and father sent me so I could see the business side of things.” “Did you get to run around the city?” Luka asks what everyone is thinking.

Adrien’s father has always been a subject that makes everyone uncomfortable and angry. When they first started dating, it was really hard for Marinette and Adrien to have time together.

Adrien’s school was close to Nino’s home, so she would ride the bus with him and they would wait outside his private school to have a few minutes with him before his chauffeur picked him up. It was one of the reasons why Nino and Adrien got so close.

Everyone wanted to meet Adrien but Marinette would have to make excuses for him all the time, it didn’t take long for everyone to realize how controlling his father was.

Things got better once Kagami came back on Adrien’s life and let her use him as an alibi anytime he wanted if she could do the same back.

“No, most I did was walk around with a gelato from the hotel to the store,” He shrugs, “But it’s fine, I’ve been there before.”

“I guess,” Luka whispers but Marinette hears. It's obvious that he is angry on Adrien’s behalf.

Marinette gives a sad smile to her friend and leans towards her boyfriend to snuggles on his arm.

Adrien looks down and smiles at her, rubbing his thumb over her hip in a tender manner.

“Well, at least you got to relax for the chaos that is this city,” Luka laughs, “I miss Paris a lot, but I would be lying if I said that I don’t get happy once a day knowing that there are no akuma attacks in London.”

“ Really? ” Adrien asks, surprising Marinette not only by how fast he reacts but that he is interested in continuing the conversation, “I didn’t even think about it. I don’t trouble myself with that ‘chaos’ and I live a calm life here in Paris, so it wasn’t much of a difference in Milano.”

Marinette pinches the bridge of her nose. Of course, that is his answer.

It’s not a bad or a mean answer, but Marinette can hear the actual feeling behind his words.

“That’s actually shocking,” Zoé says and her eyes open wide, “I really can’t believe you don’t think about it.”

“I don’t,” Adrien shrugs and take a sip of his wine.

“He never talks about it,” Alya adds and shots a concerned look towards Marinette.

Subtly, Marinette waves her hands to let her know that everything is fine. They can’t change subjects only because of her.

“Nothing at all?” Luka and Zoé question.

“Nothing at all,” Adrien nods.

“What about Ladybug? What do you think about her?” Zoé asks, taking a step forward as her eyes show her curiosity.

“I don’t think about her at all,” Adrien answers, unfazed, but Marinette can feel the tension building inside him.

“That’s your lost, Adrien,” Alya says, “She is so fucking cool.”

“Yes, she is,” Zoé nods aggressively, “C’mon, there must be something. I don’t think is possible to not have an opinion about something.”

“I gotta agree. For example, I think she is hot,” Luka adds, moving his hands, splashing a little of his beer.

Marinette chuckles. It’s not the first time she’s heard this from Luka, and she isn’t surprised by it either, after all, they dated, she knows he likes her physically. However, it still, makes her blush.

Adrien looks frustrated, he closes his eyes and sighs.

“Yes, I guess she is really fucking hot, but that’s it ,” Adrien answers and takes a sip of wine, looking away from them.

Marinette can feel her cheeks warming up more than before. He’s never said that to her.

“Sadly, the catboy is hot too,” Zoé sighs and leans into Alya who nods along.

“If you like the psychotic type,” Marinette adds, without missing a beat.

Adrien shifts beside her, and the hold he has on her waist tightens.

“So, you do think he is hot.” Luka laughs.

“Yes, objectively, he is hot. I would be blind if I didn’t admit it. He has pretty eyes, and a devilish smile that I’m sure melts more than one, and he is fit, and his shoulders are broad and his arms inviting and look like-” She stops. No, “Yeah, he is as hot as he is insane.”

“ Insane? ” Marinette hears Adrien whisper in disbelief.

The rest of her friends keep talking and arguing, all in lightness and good faith, a few jokes here and there, but she is unable to fully pay attention as she sees Adrien’s expression turns from slight annoyance to full-on rage.

“I mean, there is a good side,” Alya says, Zoé and Luka nod.

Adrien’s hand drops off her waist and this time is her who stiffens.

She takes his hand, and squeezes, hoping he can look at her and calm down, but he is already talking before she can put her plan in motion.

“Are you all fucking experts on moral compasses now, or what?” Adrien asks half laughing but his tone is piercing.

“I don’t think we need to be experts, Adrien,” Luka says and looks at Marinette with utter confusion.

Adrien blinks slowly, in disbelief, and let out an arrogant chuckle.

Marinette panics and does what she knows best: an escape plan.

She turns to Adrien side, to grab him by his arm, and purposefully hits the glass of wine he has in hand. It splashes to the carpet and it falls on Adrien’s shoes as well as hers, and because of that also in her pink stockings.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, baby,” She acts out real concern, and takes a step back, “Ugh, why am I always so clumsy?”

“It’s fine,” Adrien says but he still manages to irradiate the same level of anger as before.

“Here,” Zoé says giving her a few napkins and they both kneel down to clean the carpet. Then Zoé helps her clean her shoes.

“Thank you,” She says and stands up again, “I really am so clumsy, I’m sure you girls are starting to remember a thousand stories.” And just like that, the subject has changed because Alya begins laughing and starts telling one of the many stories.

Marinette smiles in triumph and goes back to Adrien.

“I think I need more wine,” Adrien says, shaking her off before she can even think of touching him.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t go to the table in the living room, fading in with all the other people at the party.

Her smile disappears.

She stays listening to Alya talk, but when Adrien doesn’t come back after ten minutes, she excuses herself and walks through the apartment.

It doesn’t take her long to find him, she knows he would go to a quiet and empty room.

So when she opens Alya’s bedroom door, she sees him on Alya’s balcony, leaning in the frame of the window.

The lights are off, but the lamp post of the street and the glow of the little stars on the sky falls on him, spectral white illuminating his narrowed green eyes, his frowning expression and a condescending smile.

“Was it worth staining your favourite pair of pink stockings for the distraction you tried to pull?” He shots at her.

“Is it worth it to be angry at me after we were away for a week just because of a stupid argument?”

“Oh, it is not a stupid argument, is a stupid subject.”

“Just because people don’t have the same opinion as you, doesn’t mean they’re wrong,” She knows how these arguments go, she might as well cut it at the beginning.

“It’s not that at all. I just feel like you- everyone is judging someone without knowing their full story.”

“And I think you’re projecting your own personal issues, mon coeur .”

“Oh, so now it is me who is in the wrong?” Adrien turns around, one crooked accusatory brow at her, “Didn’t you just-

“Don’t do this,” Marinette crosses her arms in front of her chest, “I hate to fight about this, I’m so tired of it. You can’t keep getting angry just because people don’t see it through the same lens that you do.”

“Do you think I enjoy this? I’m tired too, that’s why I am angry because everyone keeps bringing it up! There are so many other interesting things to ask and talk about. I hate this insane obsession everyone has with them as if we haven’t seen the same crazy fight scene over and over again for four years.”

“Zoé and Luka just came back from London, of course, they will talk about it.”

“Why? Why must they talk about that with us?”

“It is a common subject, Adrien, what else do you want them to talk about?”

“About you , for example.”

Marinette blows a raspberry.

“I’m serious!” He throws his hands up, and walks towards her, standing next to the bed, “We haven’t seen Luka and Zoé in a while, they could have asked you about uni. You’re rocking it.”

“They did ask, Adrien, you weren’t here yet.”

“But-

“No, ‘but’… please I’m tired. These weeks… you’ve never been so annoyed by it before. What’s happening to make you so angry about it? Why do we keep fighting? Whenever I would name it you would brush it off quickly, but we didn’t use to fight.” Could it be that he has started to put the pieces together? Could he know her secret and that’s what has him so worked up?

He gulps and brushes his bangs aggressively.

Adrien takes a step away from her and walks to sit on Alya’s desk chair.

“Adrien…” She pushes, staying where she is but ready to approach him.

“You got hurt.” He answers and clicks his tongue, moving his head side to side.

“ Adrien. ”

“I told you I would never let anything happen to you… but you had already gotten hurt that day, and I wasn’t there to help you. I can’t stop thinking about it, I can’t stop thinking that it could be worse than a few bruises, then the bloody wound… and I wasn’t there for you.”

“Hey, hey, you can’t blame yourself for that,” She places her hands on his shoulders, “How could you know that there was going to be an attack? I myself didn’t know I was going to be on that street at the same time an attack was happening, but it happened, and that’s life. You can’t let anger consume you, especially not when it’s over things you can’t control.”

“I just want it to be over,” He presses her head against her chest, “For it to end and not have to worry ever again if you’re caught in the crossfire or not.”

“I want that too, but you can’t be worrying about me so intensely that you are in a bad mood all the time,” She hugs him, hands tangling in his hair, “And I thought we already established I’m invincible.”

“It’s not funny, Nette,” He sighs, “How could I ever stop worrying about you?”

“You can care about me, the normal, healthy amount, but if you cross the line, you turn gloomy and moody and that… that makes me sad, baby.”

He looks up again, his expression dripping concern and sadness and so much guilt. It isn’t her objective to make him feel bad, but he has to know how his actions affect her.

“I don’t want to make you sad,” He stands up and holds her from her shoulders, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just try to control your temper,” Marinette takes his hands, pushing them off her shoulders and dropping them so she can intertwine their fingers, “And on the other hand, I promise I will not bring up the subject unless the situation calls for it.”

“Like when you want to swoon over the hot leather catboy?”

The statement is atrocious but the fact that he is joking makes her look past it.

“I did not swoon!”

“Broad shoulders? Inviting arms? A devilish smile that could melt-

“ Stooop! ” She pushes his forehead and pouts.

“I’m just repeating what you said, princess,” He giggles, “I already knew that hot blondes are your type, but that was quite the speech. I hope you talk the same way about me when someone asks.”

Marinette laughs, a constant in her relationship with him.

“Oh, please, that doesn’t even come close,” She jumps and hangs from his neck, pulling him down to her, “But I refuse to stroke your ego, so I won’t tell you a word of it.”

“You know it’s worse if use my imagination.”

“I’ll take the risk,” She nuzzles her nose against his, “Should we get back to our friends?”

“Let me hold you a little longer,” He whispers and hugs her tighter, “A week without you is the worst kind of torture there is.”

“You’re the one who left me,” She pinches his cheeks playfully, “Next time take me with you.”

His smile doesn’t meet his eyes, “Yeah… if only-” He doesn’t finish his thought and kisses her neck instead.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence, for him to turn dark because of his own thoughts, and yet she isn’t able to figure out why. She hopes one day she’ll be able to unveil it, but right now is not the time to turn their sweet moment into another fight.

#ml fic #adrienette #ladynoir #read on ao3 #watogaqm

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

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Living with Tim Drake

Notes: I got request for Damian and SO moving in together (which I will get to some day). But then I kept thinking about Tim and how I haven’t shown him much love lately. So I wanted to do a little character study of him. Words: 1,818

You didn’t expect a message so quickly. After all, you just posted the ad for a roommate an hour ago. You texted back saying you’re free to talk and your phone buzzes in your hand. You quickly answer, bracing yourself for what kind of freak is in need of a place to stay so urgently.

“Hello. This is Tim. I’m a college graduate and currently doing an internship at Wayne. Your place is really close by so it’s perfect for my commute.”

Wayne is a little more than 5 kilometers away from your place. Definitely a length you wouldn’t like to walk on a daily basis. Especially since your neighborhood isn’t the best. But hey, it still beats Crime Alley and Arkham, right?

“Hi, Tim. This is Y/N. But you obviously already know that. So I’m going to do a quick background check before I send you my address. I mean, you understand, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” he answers right away but you could almost hear his nerves. He goes quiet for a bit and then you hear a notification that someone just sent you a message. “I don’t really have any social media accounts or anything--” You’re suspicious already. “But I am in the Gotham Gazette a lot.”

“What?” you instinctively say. Not thinking. Ignoring the image of the screenshot he sent you. “What did you say your last name was?” You’re already flipping open your laptop and opening the Gazette website.

“Drake. Wayne. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

When he shows up at your door with a single duffle bag that wouldn’t even fit all of your pants, you greet him with a raised brow. “You know, I really thought this was going to be some sort of practical joke but you are him.”

He laughs nervously, “Yeah… Living with that nightmare every day.”

You stare him from inside your apartment before you laugh and let him in. You lounge over the kitchen counter and offer him some coffee. His eyes instantly brighten up at the caffeine rush.

“This is really good.”

“Yeah? I work at a cafe nearby and it turns out I like making coffee.”

He looks at your set up behind him, a small commercial espresso machine with an extract bar with two spouts and a steam nozzle to warm up the milk, and a coffee grinder filled to the brim with whole coffee beans.

He looks back at you quickly. “Please let me live here,” he blurts out with full conviction. It stuns you and then you laugh. “I’ll pay double your asking price.”

You stop laughing then. “Deal.”

Tim settles in quickly in your apartment since he doesn’t have too many things. A week’s worth of clothes, his laptop, two pairs of shoes, and some toiletries.

You had a roommate before him but she just disappeared half a year ago. You called her family and it turns out that she ran off with a lover. You thought she would be back in a month’s time but 6 months have gone by and her advance payments are about to run out.

Needless to say, Timothy Drake-Wayne is now sleeping in a pastel purple bedroom littered with motivation posters and 30-Day challenge workouts.

“You can take them down, you know.”

Tim shrugs, “I kind of like them. They help me get up in the morning.”

You roll your eyes.“Yeah sure.” Tim is not a morning person. He only thinks he is. He’ll wake up past noon. Then when you get home, he’ll greet you good morning even when it’s dark outside.

“Is that a cut?”

Without thinking about it, your hand reaches out to brush back his bangs and look at what is actually a gash on his forehead. “Tim, it’s still bleeding. Wash it!!”

Before he could reply, you go to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. You start fussing over the antiseptic, cotton, and gauze while he’s just staring at you. “Tim, wash it under the sink,” you repeat.

A little dazed, Tim finally gets up and goes to the sink. You wait for him to finish, with a towel ready to dry his face. As soon as he’s done, you start dabbing the antiseptic on his forehead.

“Hey. That doesn’t hurt.”

You make a grim face, a look of disgust really. “Is that why you didn’t treat it? Because you’re afraid it’ll hurt.”

He laughs, “No no. It’s just-- Usually when Alfred does this, it stings.”

There are so many things you want to say to that. Who’s Alfred? Why don’t you tend to your own wounds? What happened? But instead, you say, “Do you often get into fights at Wayne or something? I always thought the people there are either frail-bodied nerds or millionaires too afraid to mess up their cuticles.”

Tim laughs a little louder, “Why does it have to be at Wayne? I could have gotten this while saving children from a human trafficking ring down by the docks.” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You narrow your eyes, unamused, “What a coincidence. After work, I just put the Joker back in Arkham Asylum.”

He shakes his laughter, making it harder for you to put the gauze on. So you grab his chin to keep him steady and then expertly placed it on his gash with one hand. His eyes follow your hands, making him appear cross-eyed and you almost laugh. Then his eyes widen.

“Wait a minute. Did you just get off work? It’s almost 6? PM?”

You roll your eyes but you don’t really meddle with his sleeping schedule. He usually leaves the apartment when the sun is coming down and you never hear him come in. But you just assume his internship at Wayne is at night.

You wonder if he gets paid for it because he comes in 7 days a week, every night and sometimes even in the afternoon (or god forbid in the morning). But he doesn’t really need the money so maybe it’s a family obligation thing?

Sometimes though, like once or twice a month, he gets a day off. He’ll sit with you on the couch while you drink the mochas you made and binge-watch NCIS.

“You know…” you say one day, hugging your mug to yourself. “You never did tell me why you chose to live here.”

“I did, didn’t I? It’s close to Wayne--”

“Bullshit,” you call out. “I get that you bike to work so it’s an easy commute but you own part of Wayne. I know you can get a driver to get you there or work from home or not work at all if you wanted to.”

Tim looks at you for a moment before he goes quiet. He’s staring into his mug and lightly shaking it to watch the liquid move around inside.

You suddenly want to slap yourself, “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to know--”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, smiling. He places the mug on the coffee table. He grabs the remote to lower the volume down and then hunches with his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the screen.

“It was just good timing when I saw your post. It was getting a little crowded at the manor.”

You keep looking at him and wonder if you should stop him. This almost looks painful for him but Tim keeps going.

“When I first got there, I was the only one there. Dick has his own place. Jason was--” he shrugs, “It was just me, Bruce, and Alfred.” Alfred, you now know, was actually their butler, but Tim talks about him more like a parent, to both him and Bruce Wayne.

“It was great. Mostly quiet. Peaceful. And then like a hurricane, all of them just came, one by one. Dick, Jason, and then Damian. It was a nightmare. We were at each other’s throat. Literally!” he’s staring wide-eyed at you, half-hoping you’ll know he’s telling you the truth. “And I couldn’t get a single good night’s sleep. I just-- I needed my own place. Away from them.”

Tim releases this long sigh, one that feels like he’s been keeping for a while. “When it was just me, Bruce, and Alfred, I never noticed it because I was too self-absorbed-- about the adoption and the--” he looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights then coughs and continues, “I didn’t notice that they weren’t as happy as I was. That they were in silent mourning.”

“So when my brothers were at the manor, Bruce and Alfred-- They were shocked but I’ve never seen them look happier. It was so small, almost barely a hint of a smile. And I just--” He sighs again, this time leaning back to rest his head against the couch. “So I feel a little guilty about leaving.”

You wait in case Tim had more things to get off his chest. This is the first you’ve heard him talk in broken sentences. He’s usually a lot more composed that his sentences are always grammatically correct, full-structured, and well-phrased. Like listening to an essay.

When he doesn’t say anything more, you ask, “Do you regret leaving?”

Tim Drake stares at the ceiling. He visits the manor every now and then but not much has changed. They’re still fighting a lot, with less intent to kill, but still enough to seriously maim. But really he misses seeing Alfred every day, helping him in the garden and eating his home cooking.

And Bruce. He wonders if Bruce is doing fine. If he’s happy Jason is back or proud to finally have his own son fighting side by side with him. He hopes Bruce’s is a little upset he left. He wishes he’d mourn for him a little like he did with Dick and Jason.

But is he happy? Tim was feeling overwhelmed by the past that his brothers brought back with them. So much pain, regrets, and hatred. He never knew families could be so complicated. One minute they wanted to murder each other and the next they’re risking their own lives to save you. ‘Do I regret it?’ he wonders. ‘Do I regret doing what Dick and Jason have done, leaving the nest-- the cave and the Titans-- to find my own way of life? My own path?’

‘Not one bit.‘

Then he turns to you with every intention of saying just that. He looks at you while you hold your white Superman mug in your hand, your lips hovering over the rim and the steam rises up to your face. He watches the light smoke dance as your breath goes in and out.

Your eyes are staring at him with your hair hanging down, framing your face. He watches your cheeks slowly go red and your eyes widen. You look away, missing the same shade of red covering Tim’s cheeks.

“Crap.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Tim Drake #Tim Drake fanfiction #Tim Drake imagine #Tim Drake x reader #Timothy Drake #Timothy Drake fanfiction #Timothy Drake imagine #Timothy Drake x reader #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

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