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luveline · 3 years

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in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

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spookysmujer · 3 years

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All the Stars, O. Diaz

Summary: After having a stressful week dealing with the Santos, you try to make Oscar feel relaxed enough to get him to open up.

word count: 1.3K

warnings: cute s h e t, fluff, vulnerability

a/n: Hello babes, I am putting in some weRk over these next few days! Also who has been super excited after hearing it’s official: ON MY BLOCK SEASON 4 IS HAPPENING. Our papichulo returns! Don’t worry, angst coming up next, some smut and the whole spiel, hehe. As always please: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog my work and turn on notifications for when I post new content!

requested by @justatiredfool

(gif belongs to unknown 🥺)

You were told you were silly to move in with Oscar during senior year of high school. That you had to be knocked up. Even though your parents gave you the OK, they always made it their mission to remind you that there are more important things in life than having a boyfriend. But no one understood just how deeply you connected with him. And to those who claimed it wouldn’t last, here you are 5 years later.

And with living at the Santo trap house came with its occasional inconveniences. Such as Oscar having the stress of ‘work’ follow him home all the time. And mostly, there was no problem in solving them. He did his best to separate business and pleasure. But there were days where he couldn’t and it would take a toll on your relationship. Days like today, so you want to help him relax and relinquish any stress.

When he gets home, he stops in the kitchen to press a kiss to the top of your head. He goes to the bedroom and strips down to his white tank and basketball shorts. You take the liberty to get him a beer, he thanks you with a touch when you hand it to him, “Long day?”

He hums in response as you run your hand over his head, he loves the feeling of you touching him. Touch for him is his love language rather than speaking. Which no doubt was hard for you in the beginning considering that for you, you were heavy in verbal communication. You need lots of reassurance and it was a big adjustment to learn that he likes to reassure you in a different way.

After mindlessly thinking, you reach over and take the remote to turn off the tv. He scrunches his eyebrows together and looks at you, “Com’n, let’s go.”

“Go where? I just got home, com’n.” You gather your purse and go stand by the doorway, looking back at Oscar who is still laying back on the bed. He looks at you, trying to tell you I ain’t going nowhere with his eyes. But your eyes tend to be more deadly than his. He groans before getting up and grabbing his wallet, “You don’t need it, let’s go tortuga.”

He pinches your behind as he approaches you, you squeal a little as you get away. Though he didn’t want to, Oscar knows there are days where you don’t see him much except for when he climbs into bed next to you. So instead of complaining, he just follows in pursuit.

You snatch the keys from his hand and jump into the driver’s seat. He won’t admit it but he loves to see you drive his car, it wasn’t always that way but to see you leant back, wind in your hair and head bopping to music, it’s a sight for sore eyes. Oscar keeps quiet as co-pilot and lets you take him to wherever you have planned.

Oscar doesn’t think anything when you pull up at a taco truck, you tell him to wait in the car that you phone ordered food for the two of you. When you get back to the car, he half expects for the two of you to eat in the car. However, you place the bag of food in the back seat and take off again. You drive for a bit more, taking a turn pass the sign that says “Hollywood Sign Ahead”. Most tourists have a designated area to part and hike near it. You know a way to drive up to it. Call it your rebel memory of high school. “Where are you taking me, hm?”

You look over at Oscar and smile, continuing the drive in silence. Oscar quirks his eyebrows when pulled up near a cliffside. He looks to you then tries to look over the ledge, “Com’n.” And when you walk over to his side to pull him closer to the edge, he feels a certain weight leave his shoulders. The sight is literally breathtaking. Los Angeles in a whole view makes everything that has been happening seem so miniscule. He lefts out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

“That’s why I brought you here. That release of breath you just let out that you have been holding in for God knows how long. Up here it’s different from the beach, down there you can release it but still gotta be cautious. Here, there is literally no one to see you be… you.” He keeps looking at the bustling city below. A small smile forms on his lips before looking at you. His hand cups your cheek, thumb gently gliding across the warm skin. You melt into his touch and smile.

So you both get comfy of the hood of his car and get to grubbing on the tacos. It’s nothing but silence as you eat first. You want Oscar to feel comfortable in this safe space. You have learned that the best way some people release all the pent up frustration is in silence while in the presence of others. It seemed out to you when you learnt this but sometimes it’s just another's presence that can be a tremendous help.

He finishes first and you offer your other taco, he denies it and chugs the rest of his drink. “Cuchillos put me second in command. Lots of new territories to cover. More business to handle and it’s been a fucking rough trip so far. Turning against long time allies. Taking fathers from little ones. I knew what I was getting when taking on the job but…” He shrugs, clearing his throat.

You watch him closely and quietly sighed. Not pushing him to talk more, you wait it out patiently. “I just need to know you can stick it out with me during times like this.” He says and you stop chewing your food, taken back a bit.

Oscar finally looks at you and you swallow. You set your food down to slide off the hood to stand in front of him. He watches as you step between his legs, he looks at your lips as you rest your hand on his thighs. “Remember when we had that pregnancy scare half way into senior year? Or when Cesar ran off from us at the fair? We didn’t know what to expect to have next then, just like you don’t know right now. But we always did something that no matter the outcome we knew we’d be okay, we always stuck together and did our best. I am here. I am not going anywhere, I won’t run when the going gets rough. When every single day life tries to throw us a curveball, I’m gonna be right next to you. I promise you that.”

Those special moments in life that automatically engrain themselves into your brain, the times where it becomes such a significant moment that you can later anchor yourself to. And right now is one of those moments. Oscar knew from the get go that you would remain a faithful companion in his life the moment you took a leap and moved in with him. Unknown where the future could lead the two of you. Here you are in the moment that you never saw coming all those years ago.

“Thank you.” He grabs your hand and presses a kiss on the back of it. You blush as he pulls your arm around him to get a hug. Oscar inhales your scent which has always consisted of vanilla and brown sugar. The feeling of your embrace keeps him at bay with the uncontrolled thoughts. The two of you share a few kisses, “Despite all this shit, it’s not a bad thought you know.” He tells you and you look at him quizzically.

He chuckles, “A baby, you pregnant. Doesn’t sound bad at all.”

The warmth in your cheeks makes you look away shyly. But the condensation that spread across the windows later showed no signs of shyness.

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @princesstiffxoxo @firebenderwolf @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc @roury66 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3 @starrynite7114 @spookysbabymama @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby @angelxfics @kkim120 @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches @blessedboo @lidumiw @morenokatt @gltrpzy (please let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist!)

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

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the closing shift

summary: coffeeshop au babey!! spencer and reader are nerds in love who also work at the campus cafe together (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this one’s for u, anon!!! sorry if this is lame, i normally don’t like coffeeshop au’s but here we are. also a warning: there is a lot of doctor who junk in here and also it’s incredibly self-indulgent but i don’t care :)

“So what you’re saying is you don’t like the power of love and human goodness?”

Spluttering frustratedly, Spencer frowned at you, “Of course, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that the special effects were cheesy and the plot was sometimes a little silly!”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before relenting with a sigh, focusing back on the counter you were wiping down. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit that the Slitheen really did not look good, and that maybe ‘Love and Monsters’ was one of the stupidest episodes of television I’ve ever watched, but you have to admit that Ten’s monologue in ‘The Satan Pit’ was one of the best pieces of writing in the whole show. ‘If I believe in one thing, I believe in her?’ How were you not screaming at your TV when you watched that!”

Spencer lips curled into a small smile as you continued rambling and absent-mindedly cleaning the counter. You were not doing a very good job, but he wasn’t about to stop your spiel. It wasn’t often he was on the receiving end of a ramble, and as someone who was frequently told to shut up, he would never interrupt, especially when it was about his favorite show. Especially when it was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. No, he’d sit quietly and listen, thank you very much.

“Okay,” she brought her full attention back to Spencer. “I’ll forgive you for your horrible offence. If you take back what you said.”

She looked so intently in his eyes, so sincerely his knees wobbled a little. The full force of her attention was like the sun. He felt warm inside and out, but he might be burned from the intensity of its direct glare.

“Fine, season two of Doctor Who is not a complete abomination.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied smirk. “Well, thank you, Dr. Reid. I appreciate the kind words.”

He nodded, turning to the back room. He’d almost made it through the doorway before he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “But season eight is better.”

A melodramatic gasp, and he felt a rag hit the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“You take that back, Spencer Reid!”

Making his way further in, his fingers found the knot behind his back, quickly untying and shrugging off the apron. “(Y/N), I only speak the truth. I’m a man of science, and science says that season eight is simply superior.”

You laughed along with him, murmuring grievances against this idiot genius. You reached behind yourself, fingers fumbling with the knot. After a couple unsuccessful attempts, you huffed and asked, “Hey, Spencer, do you think you could help me with my apron? I tied the stupid thing too tightly.”

He gulped, mumbling a sure thing in a way he hoped was nonchalant, but knowing himself, was anything but. Walking up behind you, he felt himself involuntarily shudder at your proximity, and he said a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in to try to keep his cool. You felt his fingers brush against your lower back, and you tried, gosh, you tried so hard to not audibly gasp (you’re not sure you succeeded). The brief contact unfortunately flooded your mind with thoughts about his long fingers that you had often admired (discreetly), and you thought about what it’d be like for him to touch you and for him to mean it, and you nearly passed out. The silence was deafening, which was funny because it seemed like you two could never shut up around each other, and the one time you needed to fill the tense air with something, there was nothing.

Finally finished with the knot, Spencer softly tapped your back twice with his index. “All done.” It came out as a whisper. He couldn’t have managed more.

“Thanks!” You spoke at normal volume and tried to put you back into regular conversation, but breaking the eerie quiet, it sounded like you were shouting.

He shot you a tight-lipped smile. “Are you all good to close up?”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort,” you said rather breathlessly, returning his smile.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he pushed open the back door and waved. “See you Thursday!”

“See ya.”

As soon as the door shut, you heaved a sigh of relief and let the tension out of your shoulders, staring at the ground. You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes. Why did you freeze up like that? Why was it weird when he left? Why did you like him so much?

———

Thursday was Spencer’s favorite day of the week. The dining hall stocked chocolate donuts with rainbow sprinkles on Thursdays. He had his chemistry seminar with his favorite professor on Thursdays. Caltech’s chess club met on Thursdays. He worked his shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.

(You worked the same shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.)

Did Spencer really need a job? No, his education was entirely paid for by the school because when you have a child prodigy on your hands, you should try to keep them. And he lived in on-campus housing and ate on campus, and he didn’t have a lot of other expenses. But his advisor told him that he might get something out of doing a job that didn’t require 100% of his brain power, might get to rest his mind for a couple hours every week. He might also make a friend.

What he had not anticipated when he started at one of the various campus cafes was meeting you. He showed up to his first shift and nearly choked when he saw arguably the most beautiful girl he had ever met in the backroom putting on an apron. Your eyes lit up when you saw him. “Hey, you must be Spencer! I saw our names together on the schedule a couple times, looks like we’re gonna be work buddies!”

By the time you turned back to speak to your guys’ new manager, he noticed his jaw was completely slack, and he hoped his mouth had not been hanging too long. He also blacked out too long to ask for your name, which he was internally hitting himself over. And he hazily drifted through the training, his mind barely focusing on the coffee. To say he was distracted by the girl next to him and the way she smelled like coconuts and cotton was a major understatement. Times like these were humbling for a twenty-year-old with two and a half PhDs.

He could barely recall anything that happened until they were cleaning out the espresso machine together silently, and he was struck with a sudden need. “Hey, I never caught your name…”

“Right! My name is (Y/N),” she answered, offering him a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Neither spoke after that, both working quietly next to each other. Spencer sighed internally, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hoped they wouldn’t spend the semester in silence. And like some higher power was listening to his wishes, you turned to him, “So, Spencer, what are you majoring in?”

Hesitant to scare you off, he tiptoed around the subject. “Right now, I’m studying chemistry.”

“Right now?”

He glanced over at you, and despite knowing you for the entirety of ten minutes, he couldn’t deny you or the inquisitive gleam in your eye even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. “I’m working on my PhD in chemistry. I already have two in mathematics and engineering. Oh, and I have two BA’s in psychology and sociology.” He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the dumbfounded look on your face, and he swallowed harshly. “Um, uh—what uh, what are you studying?”

You let out a brief laugh, and for a moment, he cringed, wondering if you were laughing at him. But just a look at you and the tenderness of your features, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Blowing a puff of air out, you grinned gently, “Well, your PhD’s are putting my bachelor’s to shame, so I’m not sure I want to say.”

“No, I’m sure whatever you’re studying is cool,” he reassured you.

Pleasantly surprised by the humility of your new genius coworker, you continued, “I appreciate it. I tend to err on the side of the humanities, not much of a STEM gal myself, and right now,” you both chuckled at your little joke, “I’m studying history and political science.”

“So am I standing in the presence of a future lawyer, or maybe the next president of the United States?”

“Good question, but I’m not sure. Would you vote for me?”

Squinting at you for a moment, he nodded slowly, “Yeah, I think I would. You’ve got a kind face.”

You raised your eyebrows at that, trying to suppress a blush. “A kind face?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, eyes flicking over your face. You felt shy under his gaze; it’s not everyday a hot genius boy stares you down and tells you you have a ‘kind face.’

Ducking your head, you fought a smile. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

And from then on, something clicked. You and Spencer talked for hours and hours during your shifts, joking and teasing (and grinning and blushing). He looked forward to working because that meant a chance to see you. (Except for Mondays, that was the one shift you didn’t have together, and it made Spencer want to scream. The dude he worked with, Andy, was nice enough, but the hours seemed to drag on when he didn’t have you to discuss weird sci-fi movies with.)

He was particularly looking forward to this Thursday because he knew you had a big presentation in your class about African revolution, and he wanted to hear all about it. In the brief moments of spare time at the cafe, he had helped you prepare and had listened to bits and pieces of it. This morning he’d sent you a quick good luck! text, to which you’d responded with thanks!!! and a stream of various heart emojis. He had learned early on that you were very fond of emojis, but it never stopped his heart from skipping a beat when you’d send him little hearts and smileys.

Entering the back room, he set his backpack on a hook and started to get ready for his shift. He gave a quick wave to the people from the last shift as they left, and he felt a little worry boiling in his gut because if they had left, that meant you were late, and you were never late. He wondered if something had happened in your presentation, and he was filled with dread. Solitarily manning the counter, he was ensnared in his thoughts; he couldn’t stand the idea of something going wrong and you being upset, so upset that you couldn’t come to work. He shifted uncomfortably, hand itching to grab his phone and send you a text to see if you were okay when he heard a door slam and a shriek from the backroom. “Spencer!”

Immediately, he ran to the back, expecting the worst, and he nearly fell over when you ran at him full-speed to launch into a hug. “Oof—” He recovered though, catching you, and he wrapped his arms around you so tightly and cradled the back of your head in his hand. His heart stuttered. He could get used to this.

You buried your face into his neck. “Oh, Spencer, you won’t believe it. My presentation went so well! My professor held me after class and told me I was one of his brightest students, and oh, I just don’t believe it!” He felt your face warm against him as you gushed.

“I believe it, I don’t doubt it for a second. You are so smart, (Y/N). I’m so proud of you. You deserve it.”

Breathing him in for just a moment longer, you finally released him, and both of you thought how everything feels a little emptier now that you weren’t holding each other. He couldn’t help but beam at you, though.

“Really, (Y/N), I’m so proud of you.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit! It’s all thanks to you being patient enough to hear me blabber on and practice, so thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He got incredibly flustered at the title and hesitated over his next words before settling on a soft anytime. And he meant it.

———

The rest of your shift that day was less eventful. You recounted some of the highlights of your presentation, to which Spencer listened with rapture. There was some discussion of who was at chess club today and if anyone there was a true match for Spencer (no one was). You played your favorite game called “Who Can Make the Most Disgusting Drink Out of Four Ingredients?” (You won with a mixture of coffee, coffee grounds, an excessive amount of salt, and raspberry syrup. (Ew, (Y/N) why is it grainy?)) And now nearing midnight, you sat at one end of the bar reading your textbook while Spencer cleaned up various mugs and napkins. He snagged the broom from the backroom and began sweeping. With a quick glance up at you focused entirely on your book, he smiled softly. Pieces of your hair had drifted out from behind your ears and framed your face, and the apples of your cheeks were flushed. To put it simply, you looked ethereal, and Spencer didn’t think it should be possible for someone to look so beautiful at the end of a long day, but here you were, always defying expectations. He thought you looked like someone from those Renaissance paintings you loved so dearly, but he knew that even if someone tried to commit your grace to canvas, it’d be to no avail. He was sure no one would be able to do you justice.

Looking down at the floor he was supposed to be sweeping, he let his thoughts wander farther. He thought about what it would be like to hold you everyday like he did today. He’d be the luckiest man on Earth, that’s what. For so long he thought about asking you out, but then he knew that someone like you would never be interested in someone like him. But then again, you were the impossible girl. You never did quite what he expected. And he never expected you to be into him. So maybe for once in his life, he’d go out on a limb and ask you if you wanted to go get dinner with him sometime. He’d take you to the Indian place on 12th that he knew you loved, and you’d sit in the oddly formal, always empty restaurant and laugh and giggle together because that’s what you always did together, and then maybe, he’d invite you back to his place, so you could watch Doctor Who, or maybe do other things (like hold hands), who knows?

He found himself praying to that god he didn’t believe in once again to find the courage as he finished up sweeping, and after he put the broom away, he walked up to you with butterflies running rampant in his stomach, so he could barely muster a glance at you. But he was going to finally do it.

“(Y/N), I —”

And that’s when he noticed that you had fallen asleep on your book. It had been a long day for you. He felt his heart grow tender and soft and if someone poked it, it very well might explode. His thoughts strayed to your conversation the other day and the quote you loved so much. I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her. He takes a step or two closer, and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear with the gentlest hand, he thinks, yeah. I believe in her.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #do people read things at 2 in the morning?#lets hope so!#bc that's the only time i write :)#my sleep schedule is not :) good :)

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harrypotterbrainworms · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s Doom

Summary: A very oblivious young boy has caught the loving eyes of Remus Lupin, but how can one express his feelings if every time (Y/N) opens his mouth, Remus melts like a box of chocolates in the sun.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name, (H/C)- hair colour, (N/N)- nickname

Words: 2587

A/N: I spent way to long on this, almost a week ;-;. I hope you enjoy it!

“Remussss, please. Pretty please with a cherry on top. I promise I’ll make it up to you” (Y/N) pleaded Remus to let him copy his homework. He had completely forgotten to do his own which was mostly Sirius’s fault, keeping him up all night.

“You do realise you have to do your homework in order to graduate, right? It’s a basic skill to have.” He cocked his eyebrow, looking up at the pleading boy in front of him.

“I know, I know, Blah blah, if you don’t learn you’ll never survive in the “real” world. I know the spiel.” He rambled on, motioning a small Remus puppet with his hand mocking the tone of his friend’s warnings.

He had spent the whole night playing tag with Sirius and racing around the courtyard like the drunk children they were. Remus knew this of course, waking up every so often to look down at them being idiots from the tower.

“And yet you still go on late night joy rides with Sirius” He sighed and closed the book he was reading as he watched his friends stuff their faces with toast and eggs.

“Please, Moony.” He begged once more, pulling the sweet and innocent face he knew Remus couldn’t say no to, even adding a slight quivering lip for dramatic affect.

The shorter boy pressed his fingers against his temples trying his best to distract himself from the sweet face of his friend, but gave in.

“Fine, last time I swear to Merlin.” He repeated the same line he always said when (Y/N) or any of his friends asked. He always managed to give in too soon to the pleads.

“Thank you!” (L/N) chirped up giving Remus the warmest smile he could, taking the few pages Remus handed him then took his seat again.

“Y-You’re welcome.” He stuttered out, blushing a bit. James wiggling his eyebrows at Remus, receiving a death glare in return.

“Padfoot, get your ass here! We have t-minus 20 minutes to copy it all” He pulled Sirius’s arm to climb over the table and sit next to him. Both of them pulled out paper to start.

“Wait you didn’t-“ The flustered boy said, not being able to finish his retort before he was interrupted again.

“Thank you again, Moony. We appreciate this so much” Remus could barely get any words out after that, only being about to nod his head in response. (Y/N) did look like he appreciated his friend’s effort to help him stay in school.

James gave him a knowing smile before continuing to devour his breakfast plate while Remus just sighed looking at the two boys copying his homework.

“You lads are gonna be the death of me.” He finally said, opening up his book again and continuing to eat his own meal.

Remus always thought he fanced boys a lot more than girls, but he knew for sure when he set his eyes on (Y/N) for the first time. They were never that close, not that he had tried to get closer. The taller boy just seemed to take a liking to Sirius more than anyone else in the group, always fooling around and getting into trouble more so than himself and James.

He spent many nights awake with James, while the other two snuck out, talking about (Y/N) and how much he liked everything about him.

The day passed by quickly as they always did, pranks and studying. Waiting for the next moon adventure.

Remus sat in the dull light of the common room that evening, relaxing to the sound of the fireplace when (Y/N) burst through the door as chaotic as ever. Collapsing on the sofa next to him.

“Hi, Moony” He smiled nonchalantly, taking a peak at the book he was reading. Remus partly ignored him, giving him an acknowledging hum.

“Oh, I see you’re reading one of my books. Do you like it?” He said while bending over to read the cover. (Y/N) as dumb as he could be, enjoyed reading just as much as Remus did. A lot of the time they spent together was in the library or reading together.

“I do, rather exciting. Didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, but thank you for borrowing it to me” Remus smiled, making (Y/N) blush a little.

“I’m glad!” He said, thumping back onto the sofa. Now trying to keep up with the pace his friend was reading at. He yawned softly, he was quite exhausted from a long day of school. He was about ready to take a nap.

Laying his head lightly on his friend’s shoulder, he asked Remus to read aloud so he could rest his eyes.

As much as (Y/N) was a pain in his ass, he was a joy to be around. A light in his life unlike the light of his other friends. The heat on his face didn’t help either.

“Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?" "It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...” He spoke in a hush tone, narrating the book for (Y/N).

“I love this part, it’s so nice” (Y/N) smiled, getting comfortable for this afternoon nap. Remus stopped for a moment looking at his soft (H/C) hair and sleep ready face.

“Why did you stop? Was it me? I’ll shut up now” He said half asleep, waiting for his friend to continue the story again and that’s how they both fell asleep that late afternoon.

His book laying over his chest, his hands wrapped around the smaller boy like two cats huddled under a sun beam.

The next week was stressful with Valentine’s Day approaching and love in the air, it was all James could speak out.

“Oh Lily, a name so sweet just like the flower. A scent so alluring, oh Lily, my love, oh how can live without you. Life is , but a muggle roller coaster going up with you” He sighed, hugging the small envelope in his arms. Sirius gagged and pretended to throw up while Remus and (Y/N) laughed at his attempt at poetry.

“This is the year, boys. This is the year Lily Evans will be mine” He looked up at the great hall’s morning sky, his eyes twinkling with the love in his heart.

The other Marauders were painfully single, as was James, but the way he talked about Lily you’d think they’re already married. Lily however looked as though she would vomit at any given time James looked at her.

Tomorrow the whole hall would be filled with hearts and love potions. He was sure someone would slip one of them a potion, it happened every year, last year they had to nurse Peter to health ‘cause someone thought it would be funny if Peter fell in love McGonagall.

“Merlin, Prongs. One more word about Lily and I might curse myself” Sirius sighed and hid his own small envelope under his robe.

“How can I?” James sighed once, looking over the Lily who was sitting with her own friends pretending he didn’t exist. He rested his hand on his arm, sighing loudly and dramatically.

The day passed once again leading the five back into their common room, all tired of classes. The conversation immediately leaped to what would happen the next day.

“I bet Lily will finally accept that we are soulmates separated by a tragic past life” James said proudly once again pulling out the small heart littered envelope he had been carrying all day.

“I bet it’ll be another Valentine’s Day alone for you, dear Prongs” Sirius said in a soft and sweet voice, not mirrored with the evil little smirt of his face.

“Fine. Let’s make a bet then. All five of us, come on” James challenged the boys in the room who looked angrily at Sirius who always started these silly bets.

“Okay, Moony? Wormtail? (N/N)? You in?” Sirius chirped

“No way, last time I had to change my hair green and silver.” Remus said shaking his head profusely, Sirius looked at him and (Y/N) with his puppy dog eyes. Almost considering changing himself into a dog to guilt trip them.

“No need to convince me twice, I’m always in for a bet”

“I’m always in too” Peter chimed in, though no one was surprised as he just did whatever James asked anyway. “Fine, I’m in. What’s the bet?” Remus finally gave in after the whole group joined in, he felt as though he was gonna regret this.

“All us dashing young men need to find a date tomorrow. Anyone who’s rejected has to spend the night on the Quidditch pitch, no blankets, no clothing. Only underwear”

“Deal.” Sirius said quickly, shaking James’ hand.

“How do we always get dragged into this?” Remus sighed and let his head fall back onto the sofa, his arms over his face.

The next day was grueling work, everyone already had a date. James hadn’t asked Lily anything yet, his anxiety suddenly overcoming him, Sirius had been slapped in the face about 5 times, (Y/N) remembered he didn’t know anyone else, Peter had actually acquired a date out of some miracle and Remus was nowhere to be seen.

“Anyone see, Moony yet?” Sirius sighed, a small ice pack on his face. All the men looked completely defeated except Peter who had practically skipped over to them with the news he had gotten a date.

“Nope” (Y/N) quickly looked around the great hall as they sat for lunch, he was a little worried about him. Maybe he was brooding somewhere alone. Maybe was crying that he couldn’t find a date, maybe he was-

“I’m gonna go look for him” He stood up quickly, speed walking towards the closest boys bathroom, then the next and the next. He couldn't see him in any of the bathrooms. He was a little more worried now, well a lot more worried.

A little tired and defeated with the next bell ringing, he got to the next class first and to his surprise and relief Remus was there.

“Idiot. You scared us, we barely saw you today, what the fuck?” He came up behind him and flicked his forehead scolding him. He apologised and said he had to fetch a special package from the owlery alone. (Y/N) didn’t ask anything, just glad to see nothing bad happened.

“Any luck on a date?” He said, still waiting for the other classmates to arrive.

“Not yet, might look at real estate on the pitch” He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in his wide smile, flushing (Y/N)’s cheeks a bit.

They chatted for a short while before the last three troublemakers burst through the potion room door. Peter still has a bright smile on his face.

“Why so cheery, Wormtail?”

“He’s the only one of us with a date” James sighed loudly, still clutching his letter for Lily. He looked a lot less confident than yesterday, Peter deflating his ego even more.

The day passed and soon they were sulking on the sofa together, all now very painfully single besides Peter who was happily owling the Hufflepuff girl he had asked out. James finally had the courage to give the letter to Lily who just gave him a small smile before immediately b-lining out of potions. He was crushed, a broken shell of a man, at least that’s how he described it. Sirius had received about ten more slaps across the face. The other two had just accepted they would be huddling for warm on the pitch or so they thought.

“Here guys, we deserve it” Remus stood up suddenly grabbing the mysterious bag he was hiding under the couch.

He handed each one of the boys a small box of handmade chocolate, Remus’ specialty. They all lighted up suddenly at the prospect of chocolate except for (Y/N). Who got discreetly given a slightly bigger box and when he opened it, they were all heart shaped unlike the other threes’.

“Thanks so much, Moony! What would we do without you” (Y/N) smiled brightly, causing Remus to stiffen up a little.

The other two very quickly realised their chocolates were different than the (H/C) boy’s were. They know what was up, but (Y/N) was not in the loop.

“I’ll be back.” Remus quickly said, doing a 180 turn towards the porthole, leaving the others.

“I hope Moony’s okay. Maybe he got rejected.” He frowned looking at the closing door. He wanted to check up on him, but maybe he just wanted to be alone.

The other two in the room looked at each other, at their chocolates and back at (Y/N). They both decided it was about fucking time, if Remus wasn’t gonna do it. They would.

“You really are dense, (Y/N). He likes you, isn’t it obvious?” James said not looking up from his homework as he sat on the desk in the common room. Sirius shrugged in agreement and (Y/N) looked a little shocked.

He looked down at the box of heart shaped chocolates in front of him, everything finally clicking in his mind as he face palmed his brain.

“Oh my god. Wait really?” He questioned again, the thought had never crossed his mind that Remus would feel the same way he did. He never thought Remus was gay like he was though now that he thought about it, it was kind of obvious.

“You really didn’t know?” Sirius said while struggling to unwrap the ribbon off his own valentine chocolates. (Y/N) really felt dumb as a rock.

“Fuck.” He cussed under his breath, quickly exiting the room to find Remus.

He saw a flash of light hair belonging to the boy on his mind, he raced toward him in a fast walk. Quickly catching up and grabbing his shoulder.

“Moony! Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t know these were those kinds of chocolates” (Y/N) said a little out of breath still clutching the box in his hands, looking at them briefly before turning to the taller boy.

“It’s fine, (N/N). I don’t think you would’ve accepted them anyway.” Remus sighed softly, what looked like a few tears running down his face which (Y/N) immediately wiped off with his finger gently.

He smiled widely at the crying boy next to him, then gave him a huge hug.

“Yes I would have! I would’ve loved getting chocolates like that.” He said brightly, gripping onto the taller boy’s neck tighter. Not wanting to let go.

“You would?” Remus sniffed quietly, barely speaking over a whisper. He breathed into the (Y/N)’s necks, smelling the sweet smell of his coconut shampoo and cologne.

“Of course! I’m sorry I’m a little oblivious sometimes. I do like you, though… a lot.” He said sheepishly, blushing into the crook of Remus’ neck.

“You do?” He questioned again, his crying stopped and he felt very warm and fuzzy. The butterflies in his stomach beating him up.

“YES! Now come eat these with me. We won the bet.” He let go of Remus and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the common room again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” Sirius said as he saw his two friends hand in hand.

“Looks like we’re sleeping outside” James sighed, looking at the pitch from outside the window...

“So cold.”

#Young!Remus Lupin #young!sirius black #young!james potter #young!peter pettigrew #Young!Remus x Reader #remus lupin x male reader #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #Marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #hp #x reader #x male reader

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weepingvoidpenguin · 4 years

Text

The Gods’ Blessing (Pt. 2)

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Summary: In your world, everyone had a soulmate. That’s just how things went. Everyone had some sort of Indicator that their other half was out there, be it telepathy or a red string that connected these two strangers. Yours was one unspoken of, in fact, you’d never heard anyone say that they had the same Indicator as you. And because of this rarity, you longed to meet the person who could gift you with what you lacked, maybe not so much so to be with the person but more so to finally see what others took for granted. Yet, you held onto the hope that one of your best friends was your Meant-To-Be but he has his eyes on another girls and the little green monster slowly engulfs you at the deterioration of your hope.

Warnings: Light swearing, some spelling errors or reader insert errors

Word Count: 4,554

Author’s Note: Heya! Thank you all for the love on the first chapter! I love all the comments made, they all warmed my heart! lol. I tagged those that wished to be tagged so if you don’t see your name and would like to be tagged in the next part please let me know! Again, thank you so much!

The rest of the weekend flew by uneventfully. There was lots of studying, lots of waiting, lots of Spider-Man not showing up. You couldn’t say you were surprised, only mildly disappointed. You knew he was busy, of course he was, he stops muggings and villains all the time. So then why couldn’t you shake the feeling of hoping he would make time to see you?

You were being ridiculous, you knew that. But all the logic in the world couldn’t subside the pull in your chest at the thought of seeing him again. It was the same pull you had when you first met Peter. Overtime you’d learned to ignore it, though that didn’t make it any less there or painful.

For the second time that night you looked away from your window, deciding he wasn’t going to show up and locked the escape shut before turning off your light.

Maybe tomorrow, you thought and shook away the silly intrusion before falling asleep with your anticipation hidden cunningly behind your fatigue.

“So how do you think you did on the Bio exam?” Ned asked, following you to the lunch room and taking his normal seat beside you.

“I think I did pretty well, there were only a few instances that I wanted to implode but all the other instances I just wanted to leave so that’s good,” you joked and thanked Ned for helping you study last week.

“So how was the exam?” MJ asked once she sat down at the table and pocketed her phone, no doubt just having gotten off the phone with her soulmate.

“Good,” you simply said, throwing Ned a wink and chuckling amongst yourselves.

“How was your weekend?” Ned asked MJ and she immediately went on a spiel recounting the events that unfolded over the weekend for her.

Peter and Liz soon took their seats at the table together and they greeted everyone but the only thing you could center in on was their intertwined fingers. MJ saw you staring at where their bodies connected and she kicked you under the table, pulling you out of your daze. Your panicked eyes landed on hers and you saw the pity in them. She wanted to comfort you, to tell you that you would eventually meet the person you were destined to meet and all the heartache for Peter would pass like a dream but she couldn’t say anything. Not with them sitting right there.

The lunch period couldn’t pass quickly enough, your twisted heart made the seconds seem like hours and the minutes like decades. It was all you could do to pry yourself away from the table and head to your next class seconds before the dismissal bell rang. As if that would help though, you had the next two classes with Peter.

“(Y/N), wait up!” Peter shouted behind you, getting lost in the crowd of teenagers.

“Go away, Peter,” You whispered to yourself, hating the envy you felt towards Liz and the betrayal you felt from Peter. But he had never betrayed you, he never made any promises to you. It was clear practically from the get-go that his interest lied in Liz and only Liz so you should be happy that he finally landed his dream girl. One that he’d been working so hard towards, almost as hard as you tried with him.

“(Y/N), hold on a second I have to – woah, wait, are you okay?” Peter asked once he caught up with you and saw the red of your eyes.

“Peachy, Parker,” you responded and pulled your sleeve out of Peter’s hold.

“Parker?” He asked, caught off guard by the name you addressed him by. You only called him Parker when you were upset with him. He’d heard that name a handful of times in the past few years and every single time it made his gut wrench. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Mad?” You scoffed, walking through the door of your Math class, “I’m not mad, what gave you that impression?”

Peter took his usual seat next to you and leaned over the rail on the desk, “(Y/N), please just talk to me. I'm sorry for whatever I did, I just hate it when you’re mad at me,” he reached out to grab your hand in his but you stuck it in your backpack to grab a pencil instead.

“You’re not sorry, though.” You shook your head and glued your eyes to the blank whiteboard at the head of the room. You were acting irrationally, you knew that. He didn’t have a clue as to what was upsetting you and rightfully so. He’d been oblivious to your feelings for years now so you didn’t know why you expected him to just randomly figure it out.

You sighed and rested your head on your hand, “It’s nothing, Peter,” you spoke much softer now, “Please, just drop it,”

Peter opened his mouth as if to continue arguing but decided against it and faced the front of the class. Usually, you and Peter filled the classroom with your laughs and jokes but this period passed in silence as did the next one you had with him.

You wanted to ask him how long he and Liz were an item but he’s too smart for his own good and he’d connect the dots. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t. He hasn’t connected them thus far. You figured it had to be over the weekend. They’d been so cuddled up against each other while watching the movie that it made sense that they would come back to school the next week feeling even more comfortable with each other.

You figured you could casually ask Liz later in the day but you didn’t even think you wanted to. You mean, did you really want that answer? Did you want to know when they started dating and how it began and who asked who on the date? No. You didn’t. So you remained quiet the rest of the day, afraid your voice would betray you if you spoke.

“Mr. Stark, why am I here?” Peter asked the billionaire in front of him.

Once the final bell rang signaling the end of the school day, Peter walked out the front of the building as he always did but was shocked to see Happy front and center waiting for him. Apparently, Mr. Stark had wanted Peter to come over and meet the team since everyone was together again for the first time in years.

Normally, Peter would be ecstatic to go. He loved seeing Mr. Stark and he’d been urging to meet the team for so long now but all he wanted to do was swing (no pun intended) over to your place and talk to you. He figured if you wouldn’t talk to him as Peter then maybe you’d talk to him as Spider-Man.

But he knew he couldn’t decline so he hopped in like a good boy and let Happy drive him to the Stark compound.

“Nice to see you too, kid,” Tony shot back, a little offended that Peter wasn’t happier to see him.

“Sorry,” Peter apologized, “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way I just have a lot of homework to do,”

Tony eyed him suspiciously but nodded and threw an arm around Peter, “Usually, I’d leave you in misery on the weekdays but I wanted you to meet the team since everyone is here and I don’t know how long before that happens again. So, we’re taking the opportunity now,”

Peter nodded, a bit of excitement in his step though his mind was elsewhere. Tony opened the door for Peter and everyone’s eyes landed on him, causing Peter to feel smaller than he was. There was a silence as everyone took you in but thankfully someone had the decency to break the ice.

“He’s a kid,” Mr. Banner spoke up after a short while.

Tony scoffed, “You should’ve seen the things I was doing at his age, you could hardly call me a kid,”

Bucky eyed you with sadness in his eyes, Peter was so young, too young, to be exposed to the horrors that they all had to face. But he knew Tony wouldn’t make him do something he didn’t want to do. In fact, you’d heard Tony explicitly order Happy to keep Peter under watch and make sure he wasn’t recklessly throwing himself into danger. Whenever a big fight came up, Tony wanted Peter as far away from the battle as possible. That was about the only thing Bucky could appreciate about Tony.

Once the awkward stillness of the ambiance subsided, Peter actually had a pretty good time with the team. They joked about missions they had and recounted everyday life events. When they weren’t out there fighting for the world, they were almost normal.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Tony had forced Peter to say his good-byes to the team that Thor had said something that encased his mind for the rest of the night.

“Young Parker!” Thor boomed, his arms outstretched for him, “I cannot wait to see what the world makes of you!”

Peter smiled at Thor, “Thank you!” He beamed at the compliment.

“We spent much time deciding what to do for you and your other half. Your lady and you will do wonderous things!” Thor chuckled with a gleam in his eye.

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Deciding? What do you mean?”

Thor’s happy demeanor changed quickly to one of panic, “Nothing! I speak foolishness,” he tried to cover up but his curiosity got the better of him, “Have you not figured out who your partner is yet?”

Peter shook his head, “Uh, no. Not yet,”

Thor’s head lightly cocked to the side, “How could you not? You’ve been together for so long already,”

“You know who my Soulmate is?” Peter asked, surprise evident in his tone.

“Well, of course! We wouldn’t have spent a millennium creating you just to forget who you are,” Thor boasted, pride on his shoulders.

“Creating?” Peter repeated, his mind not being able to wrap around Thor’s words.

“All right, buddy.” Tony patted Thor’s chest and tried to pull him away, “You’ve screwed up enough as it is,”

Thor’s joyous mood was not dwindled by Tony’s interruption, “You have great things ahead of you, Peter Parker. Great things ahead for both of you,”

“Come on, Thor.” Natasha intercepted, dragging him away from a bewildered Peter.

Peter looked up at Tony with an eyebrow raised, “What was that?” he merely asked, pointing lazily at the thundering God.

“Don’t worry about it, Kid. You’ll understand soon enough,” Tony half explained and called for Happy to come over. “Drop him off, will ya, Happy? And maybe pick him up some food on the way, he’s too skinny,”

Peter shook his head and walked out the door with Happy knowing Tony wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to know.

You had just managed to finish your homework by the time the sun set outside so you grabbed a mug of warm liquid and perched on your fire escape, hoping that a certain someone would join you. An hour had passed and still nothing so you went back inside to grab a blanket and wrapped yourself in it and turned on your favorite show to begin watching it outside, hoping the distraction would make the time go by faster.

You had eventually become so immersed in the characters on your screen that the shaking of the fire escape caught you by surprise and you grabbed your phone from midair to prevent it from crashing onto the floor.

“Jesus!” You said, resting your hand on your heart to calm its pace.

“Nope, just me,” Spider-Man joked and cocked his head to the side, “What are you doing out here?”

You cleared your throat and took a sip from the warm mug in your hand, “Thinking,” you twisted the truth a bit.

“About?” He asked, taking his normal seat next to your window and stretching his hand out to have a drink.

You handed him the mug and wrapped yourself deeper in the thick blanket, “Everything. I’ve just been thinking a lot recently,”

“As opposed to other times?” He asked, pulling his mask up ever so slightly to drink.

You chuckled and elbowed him, “Quit being a jerk,”

He chuckled too and lifted his hands, “Sorry, it’s just kind of sad seeing you out here,” he admitted, setting the cup down in the little space between the both of you.

“So you visit me because you think I’m sad?” You asked, a hint of irritation in your voice.

“No! Not at all!” Spider-Man tried to defend, waving his hands in front of him before sighing, “It’s just, I like spending time with you and knowing that you’re upset makes me want to make you not upset, ya know?”

You eyed him suspiciously but then giggled at his lame explanation, “Yeah, I guess so. I don’t think I’d like to see you upset either,”

“No?” He asked, a visible raise in his eyebrow area through his mask.

“No,” you confirmed and looked away from him, afraid he would see the blush on your cheeks.

“So, then what’s upsetting you?”

You sighed and rested your head against your window, “Remember how I told you that my crush on this guy was unrequited?” You asked, still looking away from him, “Well, I’d always hoped that maybe I had a chance with him but after today I know there isn’t one,”

“How come?” He asked, scooting closer to you so your shoulders were touching despite you being wrapped in the blanket.

“He’s with someone,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder, “Someone I can’t compete with,”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just let you stay there on his shoulder while he tried to connect the dots in his mind but he couldn’t come to a resolution. “Why do you have to compete? Why not just tell him and see what he says?”

You snorted, “Would you tell the person you liked for three years that you had feelings for them?”

Spider-Man sat quietly for a moment, looking straight at you before shaking his head, “No, I guess not. Not if I thought she didn’t like me back,”

“Exactly,” you said, crossing your arms, “I’m hoping I just get over him soon but it’s been three years and everyday it gets harder to keep it a secret from him,”

“Maybe it gets harder because you’re supposed to tell him,” he offered.

“I thought we went through this,” you said, “Besides, I’m not even sure we have the same Indication anyway,”

“I get it. I’ve never met anyone with the same Indicator I have either,” he said.

“You have a weird Indicator too?” You asked, sitting up a little bit straighter.

He nodded, looking up at the sky above you and the little hope you had dwindled as he seemed to be able to see the glistening lights. “Yeah, that’s why I was so curious about yours,”

“Well, what is it?” You asked, tensing around the warm mug in your hands.

He looked down from the sky and faced you, “Yeah right! I asked you first,” he teased and was rewarded with a huff from you.

“So?” You persisted.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered.

You grumbled and sat back against the window, “Forget I asked.” You waved your hand as if dismissing the subject then looked over at him, “You cold?” You asked, noting that the air had been chilly tonight.

You opened up the blanket and offered him the available sheet. He looked at you for a moment, not wanting to say that his suit kept him comfortable despite the temperature outside. So he shrugged and scooted closer to you, wrapping the sheet around his shoulder and connecting it back in the middle.

You two stayed like that, mumbling about how your weekend went and you’d let it slip that you’d waited for him both Saturday and Sunday. He teased you for waiting for him but it strangely warmed his heart that you had wanted to see him again so soon. He always thought Peter Parker was never good enough for you but now that you were here, resting your head on his shoulder and falling asleep in the safety he offered, he thought Spider-Man just might be.

Peter picked up your sleeping body and crawled back into your room, placing you gently on the bed before tucking you in. He wanted to do something more, to kiss you goodnight, to lay beside you, anything really. But Peter and Liz had just become a thing and in truth he’d been dating her to attempt to get over you. It wasn’t fair to Liz to have Peter and for you to have Spider-Man. They were one and the same. Or maybe they weren’t?

Peter walked around your room, admiring the pictures you’d had hung up on your wall of all of them. He loved how much you cared for them and for that reason he was too terrified to tell you that for as long as he’s known you, he’s wanted more than a simple friendship. He wanted all of you and everything you had to offer but he didn’t think you wanted him. You didn’t want Peter Parker. But your interest in Spider-Man was something he could work with.

He looked back at your sleeping figure one last time before shutting the window behind him and taking his normal patrol for the night.

You awoke to a panicked tapping at your window and you sat up in your bed, your hair sprawled all over the place. You turned towards the source of the noise and saw the masked boy tapping against the glass, leaving a red liquid in its wake.

Blood.

You shot out of bed, making sure to land softly as your mother had been in the next room over sleeping. You hurried to the window after locking your bedroom door and caught Spider-Man as he fumbled over. You did your best to place him on your bed, not worried about the stains that were bound to show up.

“What happened?” You asked, panic coursing through your veins.

“Robber. Bank. Machete.” He wheezed out, toppling over onto you and your hands were now soaked from the warm liquid.

“We can’t do this here,” you said, afraid your mom would wake up and kick him out. “Let’s get you to the roof.” You grabbed your blanket and rushed to get the emergency kit your mom had in the bathroom. Luckily, she was a doctor so she has almost everything you needed. The only problem was that she was a doctor, not you so your stitching would be a lousy job.

You threw Spider-Man’s arm over your shoulder and fumbled out of the window, closing it behind you and walking up the two flights until you reached the roof. He collapsed on the edge and you sprawled out your, thankfully, red sheets so the gravel wouldn’t dig into his back. You placed him as gently as you could on the blanket and began taking out the supplies you needed, placing them beside his open wound.

You almost threw up at the sight. The gash was deep and went from the front of his torso to the back.

“All right, hold still,” you said, dowsing your hands in rubbing alcohol and soaking the wound with it as well.

He hissed in pain and your shaky hands pressed sterile cloth against the wound to soak up the extra blood. You turned the light on from your phone and rested it on the ledge to hold it in place. You threw the dirty cloth aside and barely managed to get the thread through the hole of the needle as adrenaline ran through you.

“Got it!” you whispered, immediately making a thick knot and placing down the needle. “We have to take this off.” You reached around, looking for the opening of his suit but his weak hands kept yours at bay.

“No! Just work around it,” he ordered, barely managing to get the words out.

“Spidey, I can’t do this without seeing the gash!” You tried to argue, keeping your voice as low as possible.

“No, (Y/N),” he somehow fought back and you internally screamed at him, knowing you had no choice.

“Fine!” You shouted and grabbed the area that was already torn and ripped it apart even more to get a better look at the wound.

“Okay, this’ll hurt a little,” you warned and placed your hand against his ribcage to steady yourself while you stitched him up.

The lights from the city disappeared all at once and you were surrounded by nothing but darkness, even your phone was gone. The only thing you could see was Spider-Man laying in front of you, the pain that was evident through his mask no longer there and he stared up at you in confusion as the place where you pressed against him radiated with a cooling touch. You looked down at your bare skin touching his torso and how it glowed with a yellowish hue.

“What the hell is happening?” You asked, not being able to pry your hand from his body until all the blood had disappeared and the gash had closed. “What the fuck?” You asked incredulously, finally managing to get your hand back.

“What are you doing?” You asked him but he gripped onto your wrist and looked around just as confused as you were.

“This isn’t me,” he defended and stood up immediately to place you behind him in a defensive stance.

Pitch black was all that surrounded you, you couldn’t even see the outline of the building around you nor the streetlights glowing. All you could see was the masked hero in front of you and you clung onto him in fear.

Come find us.

A voice echoed all around you, causing Spider-Man to turn in multiple directions, looking for the source of the noise. Your panic subsided as the voice lulled you, calling you forward. You stepped out behind Spider-Man and walked forward, somehow knowing that whoever was calling out to you meant no harm.

Spider-Man grabbed at your wrist, his fingertips peeking through the tears on his suit and causing the same cooling sensation to erupt from your point of contact. He looked down at where he held onto you then back up to your eyes, realization dawning on him as to what was happening.

“It’s you,” he said, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly, “It’s always been you,”

And your chest burst with emotions galore. That strong pull you’d felt whenever you’d hung out with him intensified by 3000 and it took all your strength not to throw yourself in his arms. Your body called for him, demanded him but you couldn’t just give yourself to him despite how desperately you wanted to.

His grip loosed on your wrist but he pulled on your arm and you did exactly what you were trying to prevent from happening. You pressed your chest against his, loving how firm it felt on your own, and his hands rested on your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. Your hands went up on their own accord and you found the hem of his mask, bringing it up just enough to expose his lips and he leaned in, holding you as tightly as he was holding on to this moment. A moment he’d waited so long for. And a moment you’d fantasized about over and over again, you just didn’t know it.

His lips pressed against yours and you melted into the feeling. You wrapped your arms around his neck, shifting your head to mold your lips exactly to his and when you say that they fit together perfectly, you meant it. His lips danced against yours, moving in unison as heat radiated through your body to be replaced with the equivalent of a cooling breeze.

Wind whipped violently around you, flailing your hair (unless you have short or curly hair then dismiss this) and smacking you in the face but you didn’t care. You immersed yourself in him, feeling his body flush against yours, his hands pressing your hips against his and then moving one hand up your back to grab your neck, making sure you couldn’t pull away.

Memories flashed before your eyes, memories that weren’t your own. You saw you through his eyes. The affection and call he felt before you’d touched for the first time. You witnessed him get bitten by a radioactive spider and the first time Tony approached him. You lived his most important memories, all without ever seeing a face behind the mask. That was a decision the Gods’ wanted him to make.

Come find us.

The voice called again and both you and Spider-Man pulled away, out of breath from the overflow of magic upon meeting that made you both lunge at each other moments ago.

He scanned your face over and over again, his arms still holding you to him desperately and the smile that sprawled onto his face made you want to see it for the rest of your life. When he finally managed to look away from you, he gasped at the sight above him.

“Look,” he said, twisting you around and holding you from behind.

Your heartrate accelerated as you brought your gaze up at the sky you’d waited so long to see. Your body shook in fear and anticipation and all the other wonderful things building up inside of you. You held your breath and looked up and the sight made your draw drop.

It wasn’t like the stars you’d seen in pictures or movies. They didn’t look how anyone had described. They were so much more. The sky had an abundance of stars, with little empty space between them. You could see hundreds of thousands of balls of light and yet you could differentiate every single one of them. You instinctively knew which balls were planets and which were suns. There was a cloudy streak across the sky illuminated in blue and purple that looked like a vortex into another galaxy. You could see the belt clear as day with no strain or telescope required. Everything was accessible to you. Everything was known to you. You weren’t just seeing the stars you were perfectly and clearly seeing your galaxy. You’d only seen photos like this once or twice in your lifetime and you figured they had to have been created by someone who could see everything that you could because this was magic at its finest. At its most raw and beautiful. And you fell in love with what the Gods had gifted you as it was truly a blessing.

You somehow managed to pry your eyes from the sky and admire the man behind you who hadn’t yet built up the strength to pull his gaze away from the sight above.

Spider-Man was your soulmate. The Spider-Man. Now all you needed to do was find out who the hell he was.

Tags : @wherewecomealive @theolwebshooter @watson-emma @le-yona @alainabooks143 @dark-night-sky-99 @myr5heart @the-ducks-umbrella @shameless-danni @powerstrangerdacre @whutisthus

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p3nny4urth0ught5 · 4 years

Text

One Step Back - Prologue

Hey guys. This is the Clark Kent fanfiction that I posted about a few weeks ago or whenever that was, the Clark Kent x ex-fiance/ex-best friend! reader. The first few parts are going to be more focused on Clark just FYI until I officially introduce Y/n. This story is supposed to take place after the movie Justice League. This is the Prologue and I’m just going to warn you, it is pretty long.

I haven’t written anything in a while and certainly not something this in depth so please be kind. If you want to be tagged please let me know.

Big shout out to @singeramg for being so encouraging and helpful through this process. Couldn’t have done with without her. Enjoy!

Clark sat in the living room he shared with Lois and stared off into the distance. He could hear Lois talking but the words weren’t computing for some reason. It all sounded garbled, like she was talking underwater. Magazines were spread out on the coffee table as well as binders and other paperwork. The coffee in his cup has gone cold long ago but still he gripped it like it was the only thing anchoring him in the room. Since he came back and was able to take a moment and relax because the world wasn’t in danger of being completely obliterated, there had been one thing and one thing only on his mind. He had been withdrawn and distant and there was no doubt in his mind that if Lois hadn’t been so busy being the ground-breaking journalist that she is and also trying to plan their wedding that she would have confronted him about it already. She wasn’t exactly shy about getting the answers she wanted, one of the many reasons why she made such a good journalist.

He took a deep breath and set down his mug. Clark felt guilty that he hadn’t been more present. He loved Lois and he knew he should have been more active in their wedding planning but he had such a difficult time concentrating recently. His eyes flitted over to her and he felt such adoration seeing her speak so passionately about something she cared about. The guilt gnawed at him knowing that she was talking to him about their biggest day in their life and he couldn’t even be bothered to listen because of how distracted and overwhelmed he was.

“What kind of flowers do you think we should have?” He flinched at how loud her voice seemed now that he was well and truly listening.

His eyes widened at the question. Flowers. He hadn’t really considered that for some reason. Did Lois have a favorite flower? Clark couldn’t remember. Every bouquet he’d ever gotten her had a variety of kinds and colors. Did she like roses? Tulips? Lilies? He could honestly say that he didn’t know. He mentally berated himself, that was something he should know about his fiancé.

“Clark? Did you hear me?” She asked.

He gulped and cleared his head of all his jumbled thoughts before just saying the first one that popped into his head. “Marigolds.” His voice cracked at the word and he nearly felt his heart beat out of his chest at the thought.

Lois laid her hand on his and it took everything in him not to wince at the feeling. Ever since he’d come back from the dead his senses had been extra sensitive, especially touch. “What did you say honey? I couldn’t hear you.”

Clark shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. He was finding it hard to open his mouth and repeat the word he had just said. His hand reached for his mug and he took a big gulp of the cold coffee, wincing at the temperature and taste before clearing his throat again. “Marigolds. I think they would be nice for the wedding.

“Hmm.” She retracted her hand and pulled out her phone. Her nose scrunched up and he could see from his seat that she was looking them up online. “I don’t know. What about tulips? Those of my favorite.”

He nodded his head but inside he was wincing. “Sure, that sounds nice.” He was disappointed, he couldn’t believe that he didn’t know her favorite flower.

She smiled and he noted that while her smile used to make him feel lighter than air, which is saying something considering he can literally fly, but now he just had a sinking feeling in his chest. Lois stood, grabbing her empty mug and his half drunk one and taking them to the kitchen. He could hear her turning on the sink and washing the cups. “I was thinking red.”

He turned his head toward the kitchen in confusion, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“Red for the color of the tulips silly. What else?” She laughed. “What do you want for dinner? I was thinking Chinese. How’s that sound?”

Clark ran his fingers through his hair, he couldn’t relax. He had been constantly on edge and talking about the wedding was just making things worse. It was bringing up all the stuff he didn’t want to think about. He felt awful. “Yeah. That uh- that sounds great.”

The wedding magazines stared up at him, making Clark feel even worse than he previously had. When he’d gotten the ring, he’d been so sure and so excited to propose. He hadn’t even gotten to actually propose to her because his mom had given Lois the ring after he’d died and she’d been wearing it since. Clark looked down at the magazines and his breath caught in his throat at the photo in one of them. It was a more rustic style wedding, something he knew Lois would never go for. Everything about it reminded him of home, the bride in particular. She had flowers in her hair and her gown, while still elegant, was simple. A peach colored sash was wrapped around her waist and in her hand was her bouquet which comprised of the same flowers in her hair in an organized-chaotic fashion. He could practically see a young girl who he couldn’t get off his mind in the dress, the colors in particular bringing him back into his jumbled mess of thoughts.

The sight alone took him back to the days when his dad was still alive, when things were so much simpler and yet so complicated as well. Clark found himself lost in thought, going back to the days when his biggest worries were keeping his secret and helping out his parents with the family farm. He could practically smell the homemade biscuits and taste them on his tongue. There were nights even now when he longed for the stillness, the quiet, the peace that the nights offered back home. He didn’t get that kind of tranquility in the city, or anywhere else for that matter, with all the hustle and bustle. His heart ached for the things and people he had left behind, one of which has been plaguing his every thought since he returned.

“Clark?” He turned to look at Lois and realized that he must’ve been best in his own head longer than he thought as the food had already arrived and was spread out on the coffee table. The magazines and such had been cleared away and only the one that had caught his eye remained, clutched tightly in his hands. “Did you see something in that one that you like? That one wasn’t really to my taste but I did see some cute ideas in there.”

He turned and put down the booklet on the end table nearest to him. Now, more than ever, he felt like he knew what he needed to do to help him clear his guilt, to focus on Lois, to get his head out of the past and back to the present. Clark turned back to his fiancé and took the take-out from her hands before placing it on the table.

“Honey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He sighed and smiled softly at the woman he loved.

“Lois,” he took her hands in his own, “I think that you have noticed that I haven’t been myself lately and in an effort to spare my feelings have declined to ask me about it. Am I right?”

She nodded and scooted closer to him on the couch while gripping his hands tighter. “You’ve been through a lot recently and I didn’t want to overwhelm you more than you already are.”

Clark rubbed the back of his neck and grit his teeth. He felt even worse now. He knew she had noticed. “I’m sorry that you have been keeping that inside.” She stroked her thumbs along the back of his hands. “And I know that I haven’t been very helpful with all the wedding plans–”

“Hey, Clark,” Lois released one of his hands and cupped his cheek. “It’s alright. I have been managing just fine on my own. I don’t blame you at all for being withdrawn.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and he felt like an even worse person for her feeling the need to protect him. “Just tell me what you need.”

He shook his head. It shouldn’t surprise him how well she knew him by now. He cupped her hand that was on his face. “I think,” he eyes met hers, “that I need some time to get back to who I am.” A sigh passed through his lips; he was nervous about this next part. “I think I might go back home for a while.”

Her smile widened. “That sounds great Clark. I’m sure your mom would love to see you.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “When do we leave?”

And just like that, his heart sunk in his chest. “Um actually I think it’s important that I do this alone.” The joy on her face faded. “I just have a lot of stuff to work out and I don’t want to take you away from work. Don’t you have a big story you are working on anyway?”

She nodded; her brow furrowed. “Okay yeah that makes sense, I guess. How long do you think you will be gone?”

He winced. “A few weeks, maybe a month or two at the most? I don’t know honestly.”

Lois sighed and gripped his hands before releasing them and standing. She started pacing around the room mumbling to herself. Clark sat back in his seat on the couch. He pinched the skin between his eyebrows and groaned. His stomach was in knots. He knew he was asking a lot and he had lied about his intentions for his time away. Well, he hadn’t lied per say but he hadn’t told her the whole truth either. He knew if he had, she would have demanded coming, and this was something he had to do on his own. For goodness sake she didn’t even want him to go alone now and she didn’t even know the entire spiel.

“I don’t like this Clark, but I will go ahead and agree to it because of how you have been recently.” She turned and sat next to him on the couch again. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”

He set his mouth in a grim line and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She cuddled into his chest as he kissed her forehead. “You won’t. I’ll only be gone for a little while. Knowing you, you will be so busy with everything that you’ll barely notice I’m gone.”

“That’s probably true.” And with that it was like a weight had been lifted. He knew what he had to do and while he knew that what he was planning was probably going to make him feel like an even worse person than he already did and cause him more pain, that it was the right thing to do. Clark hoped that in the long run, it would help him, and her. He was going back home to make amends with the woman who was once the most important person in his life, his ex-fiancé and best friend, Y/n, who he hadn’t seen in over ten years. And just like that, the weight that had just been lifted off his chest, came crashing back down. He was so screwed, she was going to eat him alive.

So that is the Prologue for this story. Sorry if it’s rough. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think and/or if you want to be tagged. I’ve already started on Chapter 1 but I have no clue when it will be finished. Thanks everyone!

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fandom-meanderer · 4 years

Note

Is it okay for me to request a fluffy one shot? where the whole class of golden deer (+ Sylvain, Dorothea & Felix) helps Claude to come up schemes on how to confess to a dense!Fem! Reader and everytime he tries to confess, it's always thwarted either by "I am Ferdinad Von Aegir" as he wants to help her in Lance or other students. Not even yelling I love you to the reader doesn't work as she's really that dense. Later, Claude approaches her and sincerely confesses to her and she accepts it.

Ohhhh yes, you know I love my fluff! Let’s get this fic going!

Claude watched you bounce into the classroom, Sylvain and Felix in tow while you chimed on about your morning. You took your seat next to him and he leaned back in his chair.

“Hey, (Name).”

“Hiya, Claude,” you grace him with a short wave before turning to your notes.

He has to be honest, the day the Professor successfully invited you to join the Golden Deer was the best day of his life. To him, you were perfect. Wonderful. Smart. Strong. He could go on for days on end on how much he loved you.

Oh, and he has. He has indeed.

“(Name!)” You stop dead in your tracks and turn to the house leader.

“Claude! Hello,” you smile. He feels his heart race even faster as he nears you. “What can I help you with, boss?” You joke.

“I think your wonderful, amazing, lovely, and perfect,” the words tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought, and he quickly caught himself. His facade always seems to break around you.

“Oh,” a slight pink rose onto your face, before your lips curved upward. “Thank you, I think the same of you.”

What.

“Okay, bye, Claude!”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“I love you!”

“Aww, that’s so sweet! I love you too!” And you quickly turned on your heel and walked off. Claude buried his hand in his hair and groaned.

And it continued like that for an entire week, you couldn’t be this dense, could you? Well, turns out, yes, yes you can.

“Ferdinand,” the Professor spoke up, and the said noble looked towards them. Claude blocked it out, right now, in his head, he was piecing together the perfect scheme to get you to fall for him. He then heard the chair screech next to him, causing him to snap out of his thoughts and look towards you.

“Where are you going?” He asks. You blink a few times.

“Oh, Ferdinand’s gonna teach me some Lance techniques,” you say, pointing towards the loud boy, who was half out of the door already. “I’ll catch up with you later!”

“Okay,” he watches you walk out.

“Oh ho, that’s so sad,” Sylvain laughs. Dorothea sighs and hits the back of his head with a book.

“I’m so sorry, Claude, he’s an idiot,” Dorothea frowns. Felix scoffs next to her.

“For once, I’ll have to agree with Sylvain, your relentless attempts are starting to become tiresome,” Felix states. He juts his thumb towards the door and raises his eyebrow. “Sylvain and I know (Name) better than anyone. And I’m telling you that all you have to do is give her a heartfelt confession.”

“No, no, no,” Dorothea cuts in. “You have to-”

“Oh!” Hilda and Marianne jump into the conversation. “Are we talking about Claude’s love life? Count us in. We have the perfect idea.”

“You have to be a man about it!” Raphael chimes. Ignatz looks up from his book and shakes his head.

“I think a nice-”

“Just take her out,” Leonie shrugs.

“I personally think that (Name), being the noble lady she is, wouldn’t ever date you, Claude,” Lorenz deadpans. The room falls silent.

…

“Wait! Wait, please, let me back in!” Lorenz shouts from outside. Byleth dusts their hands on their pants and locks the door. They look back to their students, their straight face never changing.

“Continue.”

“Okay, Claude, here’s the game plan,” Hilda sits in front of him, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

You look down at the note in your hands. All it said was a simple: “Gazebo, tonight once the sun sets. - C.R.” Your thumb grazes the initials gently, what could he want?

As you approach the gazebo, you almost do a double take. Was that really Claude? It had to be, his uniform was adorned with that yellow cape, but why did he look like that? His hair was slicked back neatly (Courtesy of our local Songstress) and he seemed more... poised? It didn’t sit right with you, who was used to his usual laid back behavior.

“Please, (Name), sit,” he gestured toward the seat in front of him and you complied. You looked at the set up around you, the gazebo was lit up by various small lights that wrapped around it like vines, the moon and the stars shone above you by now, and the gazebo was decorated comfortably with a mix of yellow and neutrals. Before you were three lit candles and what you assumed to be dinner.

“Is this... this is a dish from my home!” Your eyes sparkle.

“It is!” Claude smiles. He cheers in his head, Sylvain had suggested it to him, after all, maybe he was good for something after all. Then, a soft tune filled the atmosphere, it sounded like singing.

“Is that Dorothea?”

“It is, she said that she would be practicing tonight,” Claude places his hand on his chin, pretending to be recalling his classmate’s words.

“Oh, how wonderful,” you smile. You take a bite of your food and a beautiful mingle of flavors entrances you. “Oh, it is so nice to eat this again...”

“Favorite of yours?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you nod. You look up at him again and catch him staring. “Oh, is something the matter?” Claude reaches over and wipes a crumb away from the corner of your mouth.

“There you go,” he says softly. “How about me?”

“Hmm...” you look at him for a moment before reaching over and rubbing the top of his head, restoring it to its usual messy locks, then you pressed his shoulders down. “There you go, much better.”

“Oh... um... thank you,” he says. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Claude, anything.”

“Just know that I am one hundred percent serious about this, (Name),” he says. You nod.

“Go on.”

“(Name) I really-”

“Goodness gracious! What an odd place to see you two!” A new voice shouts. You jump in your seat as a new figure approached.

“Oh! Hello, Ferdinand!” You wave. Claude places his fork down on the table, a tad bit too hard, but neither of you noticed. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the lights and I got curious,” he laughs. Then you hear shouts behind you, and as you look back you see Sylvain stumble onto the path, followed by an angry and slightly awkward looking Felix. You can make out the conversation clearly.

“Sylvain!” Felix’s voice is shaky. “You... you idiot... You idiot! How could you have thought, how could you have believed that this would go well!” Felix throws a shaky hand behind him. Sylvain just shrugs. You continue to watch the scene, wondering if you should go break it up. Not realizing what was happening behind you.

Yes indeed, behind you, Dorothea lunged out of the bushes and tackled Ferdinand into another, covering his mouth and dragging him away while Claude processed that his scheme has ultimately failed. Finally he shook his head and tapped your shoulder. You look back at him and tilt your head.

“Let’s go back to the dorms.

“Lets,” you agree.

The walk back wasn’t awkward, so to say, you just felt like you were missing something big, which was important for you especially. Finally, you stood in front of your dorm and the two of you stand for a moment. Right as you reach for your door handle, your hand brushes against Claude’s, and you both immediately retract from each other.

“Oh, after you,” you mumble.

“No, no, you can do it,” Claude answers.

“Oh... right, it is my room,” you say. You reach for the handle and Claude speaks up again.

“(Name), wait,” he says. You look at him, resting your hand on the handle. “That thing I was going to say before we were interrupted...” he says.

“Yes?”

“(Name). I’m in love with you.” You stare at him, piecing two and two together. “I think you are the most... Gods, how do I say this? You’re perfect. You’re kind of oblivious, and you’re not the best when it comes to battle, but you’re just... You’re the perfect balance to us. To me.” You’re silent at his confession, and for a moment Claude’s hopes drop, just as he is about to cover up for his spiel, you take his hand in yours and smile, rubbing gentle circles on top of it.

“Claude, you’re such a silly boy,” you laugh lightly. “I feel the same. I have for a while now, actually. Why didn’t you just say something?”

...

You did not just say that.

Tell him right now that you did not just say that.

Claude clears his throat and hugs you, ignoring the burning pain for a moment and cherishing the moment.

“Have a good night, Claude,” you say, pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Claude opens the door for you and watches you walk in, before closing it gently behind you.

He turns around and jumps up slightly. Before him, hiding behind the pillars and bushes, is the entirety of the Golden Deer class plus the Professor themselves.

“What are you all doing here?” He whispers hurriedly.

“Moral support,” Byleth nods their head. Then they give him a simple thumbs up. “You did good.”

The door opens behind him and Claude jumps up again.

“Oh, Claude, you left-” You make eye contact with the Professor. “Oh, everyone’s here. Hello!” A collective chorus of “Hi”s and “Hello”s filled the yard in front of you. Claude sighs.

Maybe this scheme wasn’t such a disaster?

468 notes · View notes

nctxnation · 5 years

Text

A Haunting in Neo City

➳ Pairing: Renjun x Reader

➳ Genre: Romance | Buzzfeed Unsolved AU

➳ Word Count: 4.8k

➳ Warnings: Mild Language

➳ “Of all the problems and complications in my life, I had not expected love to be one of them.” ― Stacie Evans

You spun around in your chair, eyes tired of seeing the screen after finally finishing another article. The coffee mug next to you, empty, and your brain still sleep deprived and sluggish.

“You look like shit.”

You groaned, pressing send on the computer and turning to see your partner in crime, or more like partner in the occult and crime.

“Hello, to you too, Renjun,” You flicked a paper clip at him and he rolled his eyes as it bounced off his chest. “I’m just tired. Yeri and the girls’ invited me out for dinner last night.”

“Fun,” He grinned, jumping onto your desk, knocking papers to the side. “All I did last night was see how many pens Jisung could stuff in his mouth, nine, by the way.”

“I’m guessing you have some news for me,” Your eyes zeroed in on the stack of papers in his hands. “Let me guess a cursed doll that terrorizes its owners?”

“Been there, done that, remember?” He smiled down at you, eyes brightening at the prospect of a new adventure. Your heart fluttered at the eagerness in his tone and the sparkle of his eyes, “We’re going out to Neo City to scope out the Evermore Woods, aka the Haunted Woods of Neo City. There’s supposedly haunted cabins and we might just end up possessed, you in?”

Of course, you were in. You’d follow Renjun anywhere, he didn’t know that. You sure as hell didn’t want to submit to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness that would ensue after disclosing your romantic feelings to your coworker and closest friend.

“Do I have a choice?” You grinned snatching the prints of research out of his grip. “We’re not gonna end up possessed, it has never happened.”

“You never know,” He was positively buzzing with excitement and it made you beam at how adorable he looked. “I have a feeling this one is gonna be a good episode though.”

“You always have the craziest shit up your sleeve,” You noted, glancing through rumored sightings of ghosts and wild stories that spurred from college students partying in the woods. “This is no exception. Sounds like a fun roadtrip to me.”

“Wait ‘til you read about the Ghost of Jieun they saw there, it’s some crazy shit I kid you not!”

Renjun went on the full blown spiel, trying to persuade you that the woods were indeed haunted and it wasn’t just a hoax. He did this all the time, seeing as he was the one who fully believed in the paranormal between the two of you. You were the one who decidedly followed him throughout his supernatural investigations sprinkling witty commentary as you weren’t as sold in any stuff like that.

You were often the cause of Renjun’s constant hysteria as you seldom kept quiet and continuously egged and taunted any ‘spirit’ that might be lurking. It got to the point Renjun would keep a small bottle of holy water in his car and occasionally spray you with it just to make sure you weren’t actually possessed.

A long ass story about some ghost later, Renjun was summoned by Jeno who needed help as Haechan had gotten his hand stuck up some tubing they were filming a video with. You took that as your cue to refill your empty coffee cup, to regain some life and have at least a semblance of a normal, functioning human being.

You however didn’t expect yourself to be cornered by Yeri and Yuta, who were looking far too devilish. Their evil smirking were making you want to add them to the list of possible people to perform an exorcism on, part of Renjun’s never ending list.

“So, you and Renjun looked pretty cosy there,” Yeri commented, subtly glancing at Yuta whose face only darkend with mischief.

“We’re partners on this ongoing project,” You deadpanned, pouring in some burning hot liquid into your mug. The steaming zest of life. “He literally has no choice now, the loser is stuck with me. We ordained it with a blood oath which is pretty on brand for us, I guess.”

Yuta cackled heartily, “No wonder you guys’ are in love. You have the same sense of humor.”

“Thanks,” The words processed in your brain slower than Internet Explorer. “Wait--what? In love? Renjun and me?”

“Am I speaking in Japanese?” Yuta winked at you, sipping his coffee so smugly you wanted to slap him. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not like that,” You began to feel uneasy, their staring was predator-like. “How many times do I have to spell it out to you guys? Renjun and me, we’re friends and co-workers, nothing more. So, we share a room every once in a while and have inside jokes, you and Winwin do too.”

“Mhmm sure,” Yeri shrugged it off, “One day we’ll get you to admit your love for each other.”

“Not gonna happen,” You gritted out, taking your mug and walking away as fast as you could so they couldn’t see the intense blush coloring your features.

“You better send a wedding invitation!” Yuta hollered as you rounded the corner and saw Renjun and Haechan laughing about his incident.

Your heart warmed as Renjun’s eyes met yours and you could have sworn you saw a fondness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. A small sliver of hope slithered its way into your heart, but you crushed it easily on account of it being your sleep deprived brain creating scenarios in your head that weren’t real.

Unbeknownst to you, Renjun sighed in aggravation. His little frown catching Haechan’s attention.

“You might as well tell Y/N you like them,” Haechan said as he watched your retreating figure.

“It’s not that easy,” Renjun admitted, “Y/N and me are a team, we have our own series and its doing really good. I don’t want to ruin any of that knowing they don’t feel the same.”

“You sure about that?” Haechan snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun snapped, ready to put Haechan in headlock at any given offense.

“I mean the supernatural isn’t the only thing your blind to,” Haechan patted his friend’s shoulder and left, leaving Renjun more confused than before.

Renjun thought it was easier to be cornered by ghosts, demons, serial killers, and bizarre monsters than having to ever come close to admitting his feelings for you. Your friendship ran deep and he didn’t want to derail the dynamic he worked so hard to upkeep. Plus, he didn’t think you’d like him, you got along swimmingly due to the fact that you two instantly clicked. You were his best friend, in his eyes, telling you he wanted something more was severely scarier than facing ghouls.

The matters of the heart were always something terrifying.

Renjun placed his folder of information neatly on the table, eyes bright as he faced the camera. You sat next to him trying your best not to stare too much at him. You failed of course and you hoped your audience thought none of it. The comment section had a few comments littered about they way you looked at each other. The last thing you needed was your full blown heart eyes for Renjung to be the one thing your viewers discussed.

“This week we will be exploring the haunted cabins in the Neo City Evermore Woods.”

Gosh, even the way his voice went into professional mode was starting to sound immensely attractive to you.

“Do you think we'll see bears?” You asked, smirking at the frustrated sigh he let out. The edges of his lips turned upwards and that in itself was enough to have you glowing.

“The woods are crawling with ghosts and demons and you're worried about bears?” He chuckled, it was so like you. It was one of the many things he liked about you, even when it clashed with who he was.

“I just don't want to take my chances.”

“But you'll be okay with being possessed?” His eyes bulged out of his face and you giggled at how comical he looked.

“I'm being realistic. I guess we can trace a circle around us.”

“Of salt?”

“No, dirt like with a stick. For the bear, Renjun. Not the ghosts.”

“Isn't that from Spongebob?” He regarded you with sparkly eyes full of amusement.

He loved the way you made the tension in his body release, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at your own stupid jokes. He was seriously gone and he hoped it didn’t get captured on camera.

“Yeah that's where I get all my educational information from.”

He started wheezing and you joined in laughing at how silly you sounded. That was your role in this dynamic duo, he took everything regarding the supernatural seriously and you joked about it. You two were like yin and yang in a sense, you balanced each other out.

“Well, I get all my educational information from reliable sources,” Renjun began addressing the timeline of the Disappearance of Jieun, to telling about her murder and the hauntings of the lake and cabins.

You added your own commentary, smiling when the camera turned off and Renjun excitedly high fived you. Yup, you were way too deep.

“You were really funny out there,” He said, shuffling all his papers back into his folder, “Great stuff. I think I’m going to need an inhaler or something.”

“Nah, I think I sounded cringey,” You waved off his immediate protests, “I just wanted to take the time to say that you really put a lot of work into this series and it shows. You’re doing amazing, Renjun, and you deserve to know it.”

“Couldn’t do it without you?” He was too sweet, he was going to give you tooth decay.

“I don’t think--”

“No, of course you don’t see how great you are,” He interrupted you, placing a small warm hand on your shoulder. “But I see how great you are and I think you should know you make this series worth doing.”

“Renjun…”You swiped an imaginary tear off your cheek, ignoring the actual tears building up. “You really are the sweetest person in the office, don’t tell Jungwoo I said that.”

The weight of his compliment and your lack of though, had you wrapping his frame around your arms. He froze, but then melted into your hands.

“I’m serious you make the other half of Spooky Duo,” Renjun’s warmth blossomed a new kind of warmth in your heart, “I love you, Y/N...I mean, you’re the best partner in crime money can buy.”

“You threatened me to join you,” You sniffled, ignoring the fluttering feelings the eight letters he murmured brought you. “I had no choice in the matter, but you’re a great partner in crime...I love you too, Renjun.”

The love you felt was different than the love he felt that much you knew. No lack of sleep or caffeine rush was going to lull you into a false reality that you made up in your head. He didn’t feel the same.

There was beat, in which you both stood, arms tangled and breathing rough, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment was broken when Yuta and Yeri stumbled into your work room claiming a group meeting. You scrambled away from each other, your eyes having totally not been hyperfixed on his lips. Renjun cleared his throat and fist bumped you claiming you as the best friend he could ask for, before he went on his merry way.

You sighed, not trying hard enough to hide you own dejection, but you followed behind him. This, unfortunately, only roused Yuta and Yeri even more as they began gossiping about the office, murmuring about how any day now the Spooky Duo were finally going to get together.

It was dusk, night barely stretching across the horizon when you reached the edge of the Evermore Woods. The forest was cold, dark, and dense. It was the picturesque vision of any horror movie setting, horrific and nightmarish. It would certainly allow for your mind to conjure up the scariest of things to crawl from out of the forest, had you been creative enough for it. From the look in Renjun’s wide eyes, you can tell he felt the eeriness set in too.

The uneasiness reflected in Jeno and Jaemin’s eyes, your camera crew for tonight. Haechan and Yuta were already setting up things in the cabins. Renjun gulped and led the way down the path, Jeno and Jaemin stayed a couple of steps behind you two, jostling through the greenery with their equipment.

“Are you afraid of anything?” Renjun trekked through the foliage skillfully, the bright flashlight guiding him, although there was a subtle shake to his grip.

“Yeah, dying alone. Thank God I have you.” It was meant as a joke, but the weight of your words rang heavy and poignant in contrast to the eerie silence of the night.

Renjun deliberated for a moment, before following it up with a quip of his own, “I'll feed you to the demons before you even get to me.”

“That’s to say there’s even demons.”

“Our viewers think you’re a demon.” His eyes were playful, reeling you in and effectively turning you into mush.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that.” You squashed the butterflies easily, falling into step behind him.

“Do you think we’ll catch some real footage of something?”

“What if we see Bigfoot?”

“Wrong episode,” Renjun smiled, “Do these woods spook you out? What's that noise?”

“Do you know what a cricket is? Speaking of Bigfoot,” You poked his side and he flew up, sending you a glare, “Remember last time? Dude, you were practically crying.”

“I thought we were gonna die,” He defended, “How was I supposed to know Johnny was in a Bigfoot costume ready to scare the shit out of us.”

“That was the whole point,” You said as you finally reached the small lake where the Ghost of Jieun was rumored to be seen. “Are you down for a late night swim?”

Renjun focused his thermal camera on his surroundings, frowning as he caught sight of nothing out of the ordinary. “Should we try the spirit box? Maybe we can speak to her.”

“Chick was murdered by a man, she probably has some deep issues,” You said, plopping down on the wet grass that covered the lip of the lake. “She probably won’t want to speak to you. Or maybe she’s hiding in the cabins back there.”

Jeno and Jaemin propped up all the filming equipment and readied the camera to start filming. They signaled Renjun to get started and he immediately launched into ‘YouTuber Renjun’.

“We’re here at the Evermore Woods of Neo City. As you can see, we have Green Water Lake right behind me and some of the cabins that remained from the old campground. People say the Ghost of Jieun likes to linger around this general area, near the dock.”

“Wasn’t she killed by her lover?” You bounced a small pebble into the water and watched it ripple.

“Yeah, he dated her. He actually said she was too beautiful to be murdered and she agreed and used that as her tactic to live for one more minute.”

“I--what?”

“Yeah she was basically like ‘Please don't kill me, I’m too sexy for this disrespect.”

“Do you think he was like hahaha don't die your so sexy...oops sorry my knife fell into you.”

“We really shouldn't be joking about this here,” Renjun bit his lip, glancing around nervously.

“That sounds like a freaking skit from American Horror Story 1984! How am I supposed to take it seriously?”

“Because we're probably standing within the general vicinity of the crime.”

“Oh, shit.” You turned towards the cabins. “Should we go inside?”

“You want to go first or should I?” He asked, brushing off bits of grass of his pants and helping you up off the ground.

“The non-believer always goes first,” You smiled, pinching his cheek, “You, my dear, are last because you’ll most likely freak out and that will be great footage.”

“Please don’t summon anymore demons from the pits of hell.” Renjun begged, although you caught subtle lilt of amusement in his voice.

“Can’t make any promises,” You took the spirit box and thermal camera from him. “It’s not like anything exciting ever happens anyway.”

“Be careful.”

The words were simple but the way he said them, dripping with concern. You almost turned around to see his face, but you knew that if you didn’t stop walking towards the cabin, you’d kiss him then and there. Your feelings were growing and him being the sweet, caring person he was, wasn’t helping your case.

“Honestly, Renjun, is probably pissing his pants right now.” You told the camera Jeno was pointed at you, he agreed silently with a grin. “He’s always terrified, but is like an eager puppy wanting to catch anything.”

“Y/N probably raised hell in there, but what's new.” Renjun called out, opening the door to one of the cabins.

“I did no such thing...just told the ghost to screw itself for not singing Fergalicious to see if it's real or not.”

“Fergalicious wasn't even a thing back then.”

“Fergie withstands the fabric of time, it's all an illusion, Renjun.” You walked up to him and he made room for Jeno and you to enter. “Maybe something will come out if there’s more of us. It could want variety in its selection.”

The door closed behind you and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of everyone in the room. There was a freakish vibe to them, more so than when you were alone. Jeno swept the camera around the room, catching every cobweb and dust particle within view. Jaemin focused his camera on the Renjun and you waiting for some action.

“Okay, if there’s anyone--Jeiun or any other ghost can you say something to let us know you’re hear.” Renjun flipped the spirit box on and the room was flooded with static noise and the occasional gurgle of something possibly otherworldly.

“My name is Y/N and this my buddy Renjun,” You licked your lips, feeling the chill of the night creep up on you like a frosty hand. “For his sake, can you say something? Is it like in Ghost Whisper, that you have unfinished business and that’s why don’t cross over?”

“Ren…”

“Oh, fuck,” Renjun began to blubber.

“Y/N….” The voice was barely audible above the static, but still managed to erupt a trail of goosebumps down your arm. It clearly sounded like the voice of a girl. “Ren...jun…”

“Oh, hell no,” Renjun looked on the brink of a breakdown, he clambered towards the exit but Jeno blocked it. “Jeno, what the hell!”

“I...am...Jieun…”

A shrill noise pierced the ear and the static of the spirit box became muffled right after. Suddenly, Jeno began to move frenetically, casting the camera aside on a wooden table. His eyes were twitching and his arms waved in the air as if he were possessed.

“Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice was hoarse, he gently shook Jeno.

His eyes widened as Jeno glared down at him and then smacked him on the side, knocking him straight down. Jaemin whimpered from the brute force of his hit and recoiled as Jeno wailed violently and incoherently.

“J-Jeno?” Renjun grabbed your arm and shoved you behind his body, shielding you from any harm Jeno may cause. “Hey, man, if this is about you not getting to pick the location, we can work this out?”

Jaemin got up and quickly grabbed a hold of Jeno whose eyes were rolling back, his whole body contorting under the hold of Jaemin. Renjun pushed you back, slowly stumbling into the small closet in the corner of the room.

“I think he’s possessed!” Jaemin shouted, pinning Jeno down and waving you two off. “Take cover somewhere, I don’t think I can hold him down for much longer.”

Renjun hesitated, not believing his eyes. You pulled him back and ducked into the small closet, the only thing you could hear was the violent rustle of the wind outside and Jeno’s screeching.

“I shit you not if this is one of your pranks Y/N--”

“It’s n-not,” You stuttered, your whole body quivering like a feather in the breeze. “I swear to God Renjun, I don’t know what’s going on.”

Jaemin’s screaming ceased, there was silence, then a loud, thumping. Jeno’s fists hit the door in frantic, solid beats shaking the door with each hit.

“He loved me,” Jeno’s voice sounded distanted, higher pitched, “He said he loved me. He said I was beautiful, yet he killed me.”

“Jieun?” Renjun almost sounded sympathetic and you wanted to cry at how sweet he can be, but this wasn’t the time. “Is that you in Jeno? Look, I’m sorry for--”

“You’re not sorry!” Jeno’s thundering voice was full of anguish, “You mock me with your love!”

“What?” You cleared your throat, finding it hard to sound anything remotely human when all you wanted was to sob.

“Your love for each other,” Jeno as Jieun said, “I thought I had that with him. I was wrong. All I want to see is the love I never got.”

“Is she on crack?” You blurted unthinkingly causing Renjun to silence you with a frantic glare. “I mean, oh yeah, we have a very deep friendly affection.”

“Love,” possessed Jeno corrected, “Tell each other you love each other. You never know what life might throw at you. Enjoy love while you can.”

“Is that a threat Ghost Lady?” You didn’t know what to think of possessed Jeno’s words.

“I’ll let you out only if you speak your heart’s desire.”

“Heart’s desire?” Renjun laughed perturbed by the ghost’s insinuation. “This is crazy.”

“Confess your heart’s desire or face the consequences!” Jeno began banging on the door again and it looked like if he slammed his fist one more time, it would crumble under his sheer strength.

“Renjun do something!”

“Okay, okay, stop Jieun,” Shaking like a leaf, he turned to you ignoring the persistent badgering and grumbling from possessed Jeno. “Y/N, if we don’t make it out of this alive I’m sorry I dragged you into this place.”

The lack of heartfelt confessions only angered Jeno even more.

“Hey, Samara chill for a second, okay?” You looked at Renjun, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You don’t force me to go anywhere with you, truth is, I’d follow you to any stupid place you want to go. It doesn’t matter if I think it’s haunted or not, for work or not, I’d still follow you anywhere.”

“What?” His breath knotted in his threat and as your breath fanned across his cheeks, he could have sworn he’d be the next ghost to inhabit that cabin. You were too close and his poor heart can only take so much in one night.

“I don’t know if its the fact we’re about to die,” You wanted to be swallowed by some random hole in the ground or have creepy ghost Jeno drag you away. “Or the fact I can’t see you since it’s dark as shit in here. Or even the fact that I’m starting to think this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up in my desk with you hovering over me with fresh coffee and that cheesy smile of yours that I lo--”

“Y/N.” The way he spoke your name so softly and lovingly, made your temperature rise the cold of the dinky closet no longer affected you.

“Oh, right, sorry,” You rushed through your words, wanting this all to be over, “Truth is I like you, Renjun. I’ve liked you for a long time and that’s why I didn’t need a lot of convincing to join your team.”

“Is that true?” Samara-Jeno asked.

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“I like you too, Y/N,” Renjun’s voice cracked and your heart swelled. “I’m not...I have no words to describe it. But I like you so much and I never had the courage to say it.”

You smiled, shrouded in the darkness he couldn’t see the pure happiness on your face.

“I’ll leave this body now,” Samara-Jeno said, breaking the heart-eyes-through-the-dark spell you two were in. “You can rest easy, I’m gone…Hey, you guys what the hell happened?”

“Holy shit it worked!” The sheer exuberance of him confessing and you not being in danger had you squealing. “I didn’t think that would work!”

Renjun, however took this differently, “Yeah, you’re such a good actor. That confession...wow.”

“What?” You didn’t even have time to process the crushing sensation his words brought. “Oh, yeah, good one right?” You knew it was too good to be true.

“For God’s sake--”Jeno threw the door open and you clambered over to grip Renjun close to you.

Jaemin sighed exasperated as he readjusted the camera in his hands. You crawled out of the closet, disoriented and bewildered by everything going on. Haechan was handing Chenle money (“Told you they were dumb to see their love”) and bitterly glaring at you two. Yuta and Yeri looked like they wanted to bang their heads.

“What the hell is this?” You shrieked as Renjun gaped at his coworkers.

“This was a set up!” Jeno explained, outraged by the sheer dumbassery you two possessed. “You guys literally confessed to each other like we wanted! Then straight up made it sound like it was all acting...what the heck!”

“You guys are really something else,” Yuta shook his head. “Love is blind and makes you oblivious, but you two are just dumbassess.”

“Wait, so you like me?” Renjun’s eyes widened at your accusation.

“You like me too?”

“Yeah, I actually wasn’t lying,” You felt sheepish at all the pairs of eyes glued on you. “I do like you, Renjun...enough to go ghost hunting even though I don’t believe in that.”

“I like you too,” He cupped your cheek in his hands, ignoring the camera Jaemin pointed right at you. “You’re my partner in crime and I kinda wanna have you around to hunt more ghosts.”

“That’s an offer I can’t resist,” You grinned, kissing him gently on the cheek. “However, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner after, all this ghost hunting makes me hungry.”

“Deal.” The same fondness in his eyes you thought you imagined before, returned and your eyes reflected that fondness. “Now, what the hell were you guys thinking this was a great location and we could have had awesome footage!”

You spent the rest of the night scouring the woods for ghosts, although you didn’t find any. Renjun and you, trailed behind everyone, hand and hand and beaming brighter than the moon above.

“What do you think our viewers are gonna make our ship name be?”

“I hope it’s not something silly,” You gripped his fingers tightly, yanking him closer to you. “There’s something I’ve really been wanting to do, but doing it in front of everyone and in haunted cabin, just didn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” His fingers caressed your cheek, letting them trail down as he placed his hand on your arm. He marveled at the way you shivered under his touch. He was getting too cocky and needed to be stepped down a notch.

You pecked his lips quickly, the only witness to your kiss was the moon and stars. He soften under your touch, holding you tighter. You pulled away all too quick for his taste and laughed as you made your way towards the cars and the group.

“That’s what you get for being a tease!”

He smiled and followed you spraying holy water from his spray can at your retreating figure.

“You really are a demon!” He joked as he caught up to you and took your hand in his again.

“Another one to add to the list of completed missions,” You grinned shuffling into the van. “Up for another adventure?”

“With you, yes,” He would never stop making your heart flutter.

“I swear to God if you two are going to be this cheesy, I am going to regret setting this up in the first place.”

Yuta was only kidding, considering he was the biggest shipper. The next day at the office the video of you two confessing to each other was seen by everyone. For once, you were glad to have been terrorized by an alleged ghost. You watched as Renjun walked over to you, glowing, and a folder in his hand. Yeah, you’d definitely followed this dork through any “haunted” place or anywhere for that matter.

Paranormal Neotivity masterlist

#neotober #cznnet #neowritingsnet #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun #nct renjun #nct dream fanfic #nct dream

264 notes · View notes

searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Self Promo Sunday

My next fic disappearing from Ao3 is another speculation fic from before season six featuring Hyde as the bad guy in a Prince Humperdink scenario. It’s kind of silly, to be honest.

Summary: Mr. Hyde is forcing Emma Swan into marrying him. But Hyde has never seen the Princess Bride. Emma has. She knows how this ends.

Rating: G

Words: just shy of 2,000

On Ao3 until 11/10/19

Tagging the usuals:@snowbellewells @jennjenn615 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook@kmomof4 @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree@whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @distant-rose@shireness-says @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @welllpthisishappening @hollyethecurious @stahlop

In this day and age of modern, independent women, you would think dreams of princesses, castles, and balls wouldn’t even enter girl’s minds anymore. And yet … how does one explain the continued popularity of Disney princesses? Sure, maybe some parents are playing into gender stereotypes, but plenty of moms in sensible suits making six figure incomes are more than willing to plop down 75 bucks for one of those top of the line dresses at the Disney Store. And even if some women try to deny otherwise, why are so many women still swooning over Mr. Darcy? (Or, secretly, Flynn Ryder, smolder and all.)

Emma Swan was no different. By day she hunted down scum bags in sensible knee high boots. But by night … Well, let’s just say she was no stranger to Ben, Jerry, or Mr. Darcy. (As for Flynn Ryder, she would deny that one to her dying breath. She had no kids, so she had no excuse for watching Tangled to begin with).

But Emma’s favorite was The Princess Bride. Sure, Buttercup sometimes got on her nerves (What?! NOW you choose to pick up the damn branch! Help the man, girl!), but Emma couldn’t help but be moved by Westley’s utter devotion to her. Every time Westley declared to Buttercup that even death couldn’t stop true love, Emma would pause with her breath caught in her throat, spoonful of rocky road paused halfway to her lips. If only men like Westley were actually real.

Then she found out Disney princesses were, in fact, real. So were their princes. There really were fairy tales with true love and happy endings. But a real Westley? Doubtful. Until … there he was, the man in black. Lopsided grin, mesmerizing eyes, and a quick-witted tongue. She tried to suppress the schoolgirl fantasies, swearing even when she hauled him in for a kiss that it couldn’t possibly be as good as she dreamed. But the kiss was. And he was. What she had dreamed. “As you wish,” and everything. Even “death can’t stop true love; it can only delay it for a little while.” Yes, even Westley was real. Only his name was actually Killian Jones. And his more colorful moniker, instead of Dread Pirate Roberts, was Hook.

If she was living out her little fantasy, Emma should have anticipated a Prince Humperdink and a forced marriage at some point. Yet she hadn’t. They had done the whole death thing. A Prince Humperdink seemed rather anticlimactic. However, enter from stage right … Mr. Hyde.

Yeah, figures. Her Prince Humperdink was Mr. Freakin’ Hyde. I’ll take psychopaths for two hundred, Alex. Apparently, there was some prophesy about the child of the savior, so Hyde wanted to father it with her. Thankfully, his Victorian sensibilities required marriage first. Thank god.

Emma knelt in front of the door of her locked room, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she attempted to pick the lock with a hair pin. She may be Princess Buttercup in this little drama, but she wasn’t just going to sit around and wait. She had already tried her magic. Her non-existent magic, apparently. She wasn’t sure what Hyde had done, but she wasn’t able to use it. Just when Emma thought the lock had clicked open, a jolt sent her falling backwards onto her rear. Emma swore under her breath as she got to her feet. So much for picking the lock. She turned instead to the window. Bars. It was a stark reminder that she was being held captive in an asylum. No castles for Emma Swan. No sir. For her story, it was an asylum. Fitting.

Emma stood and began pacing; gnawing on her fingernails as she racked her brain for a plan. As she did, the door swung open. Emma lowered her hand quickly and squared her shoulders. No need to let Hyde see any nervousness or fear. Yet it’s a servant girl, not Hyde who shuffles into the room, a white wedding dress draped over her arm.

“Pardon me, Miss,” the maid says shyly. “I’m to get ye into yer gown and fix yer hair.”

Emma crosses her arms smugly over her chest. “I’m not putting that dress on because I’m not marrying the psycho.”

The maid – Mary, if Emma remembers correctly – looks around nervously. “The master told me ye would say that. He says he’ll put it on ye heself if ye refuse me help.”

Emma narrows her eyes, marches forward, and snatches the dress out of Mary’s hand. She knows, unfortunately, Hyde’s super-human strength from her run-ins with him in Storybrooke. “I’ll put it on myself,” Emma mutters. She stomps behind the dressing screen in the corner. “It also doesn’t mean I’m marrying him.”

Emma puts the dress on as quickly as she can, but needs Mary’s help in buttoning up the back. As the maid works the buttons, Emma speaks, a tilt to her chin. “Killian is coming for me anyway.”

Mary says nothing at first, simply steering Emma towards the vanity. Emma examines the dress as she sinks onto the velvet stool. Hideous. Huge. And the bows! What is this? My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Mary begins deftly working on her hair, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. “Yer pirate is rather dashing, Miss.” Emma meets Mary’s eyes in the mirror. The maid ducks her head before continuing, a blush coloring her cheeks. “Eyes like the sea after a storm …”

Emma gasps. This maid has never been to Storybrooke. So that means … Killian is here! This Mary girl has seen him (hence the blushing). Emma’s hand goes to her breast without thinking. Resting there, hanging from a chain around her neck, is the garnet ring Killian gave her in Camelot as well as the engagement ring he gave her just a week ago in Storybrooke. Emma had feared Hyde would take it, so she had slipped it onto the chain with the other ring. Luckily, the high Victorian neckline of the dress conceals them well. Emma smiles and exchanges a glance with the maid. He’s here!

Mary finishes with Emma’s hair. Though the dress is an over the top mess, Emma’s hair, thankfully isn’t. Mary has expertly pulled a little back from the sides and top with pins, letting the rest cascade in soft curls down her back. Mary lifts something from a mahogany box atop the vanity table and sets it on Emma’s head. A crown. Not a tiara. A full-on crown. Just like Princess Buttercup’s in the movie.

“Um … “ Emma wets her bottom lip. “Don’t you think it’s a little … much?”

“Oh, law, Miss!” Mary exclaims. “Yer a princess, Miss! And a bride. A princess bride.”

Emma suppresses a chuckle. The girl would think she was making fun of her.

Mary suddenly stiffens as Hyde strides into the room. She curtsies quickly, mumbling that the bride is ready, and hurries from the room. Hyde stands behind her, awkwardly placing his hands on her shoulders. “Nervous, my dear?”

Oh, so he wants to play out the whole scene? Fine. Emma knows it by heart.

“Why? Should I be?”

“I’m told bride’s often are.”

Okay, now this is just getting downright eerie. Still, Emma plays along. She rises smugly from the stool, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“I do not wed tonight. My pirate will come for me.”

****************************************************

Emma wonders at the crowd in the asylum chapel. Are these people here by force? Do they know she is marrying Hyde against her will? She tries to catch someone’s eye as she walks down the aisle, looking for a familiar face, or perhaps an ally. But everyone averts their eyes, avoiding her gaze.

When the priest steps forward, Emma half expects “Wuv, twue wuv” to come out of his mouth, but it doesn’t. He does wax on a little long about the sanctity of marriage. Rather ironic, if you ask Emma. Halfway through his spiel, Emma thinks she hears shouts in the corridors of the asylum. A grin lights up Emma’s face. She turns to Prince Hump – er – Hyde.

“There is my Killian, now.”

Hyde’s face, as usual, remains stony and impassive. “Impossible.”

Emma is really getting into the scene now. “Then why is there fear behind your eyes?”

“Do you have the rings?” the priest interrupts, and Emma can’t help the chuckle that bubbles up from her throat. She could have sworn he said “wings” instead of “rings.”

The sounds outside of the chapel grow louder. Not just shouts, but the sound of clanging steel. Perhaps the “woosh” and “twang” of arrows? A vein in Hyde’s forehead twitches. “Skip to the end.”

“Do you, Emma Swan –“

“Man and wife!” Hyde snaps through gritted teeth. “Just say man and wife!” The priest shrugs. “Man and wife.”

Emma grins and winks at the priest as Hyde grabs her by the elbow and hauls her out of the chapel’s rear door. They head down one short corridor and Hyde opens the door to a room more opulent than anything she has yet to see in this dark, foreboding place. The honeymoon suite, apparently. How nauseating. Hyde shoves her inside. Emma stands in front of the doorway, smirking.

“You’ve never seen The Princess Bride, have you?”

Hyde practically growls in frustration, slams the door, and locks it. She hears his heavy footfalls echoing away down the hallway.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Emma falls to her knees in front of the locked door, pulling a hair pin out of her wedding ‘do. She has just begun fiddling with the lock when she hears a voice behind her.

“Need a hand with that, love?”

Emma hasn’t even turned around yet when she cries out his name. “Killian!” She rushes to him, throwing her arms around his neck and covering his mouth with hers. She then peppers kisses across his face. “I knew you would come!”

Killian leans back with a smile on his face that quickly fades to a look of concern. “Am I too late?”

Emma laughs and shakes her head. “Hyde has obviously never seen The Princess Bride.”

A grin spreads across Killian’s face. “Ahhh, I see. Forgot the vows, did he?”

Emma beams up at him, her Westley. “Yeah. He’s a regular Prince Humperdink.”

Killian gives her his best smirk, pulling her even closer against him. “Well then, lass, to the Jolly Roger, shall we? If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pounding is coming from the other side of the door.

“But Killian, Hyde is blocking my magic somehow!”

Killian cocks an eyebrow. “You doubt me love? That was Regina’s mission. Now, poof away.”

Emma isn’t sure if the best line is “As you wish” or “I will never doubt again,” so she says neither and just flicks her hand. Sure enough, when the smoke clears, they are on the deck of Killian’s ship. She’s quickly enveloped in hugs from her parents and Henry. Regina shows her affection with snark, as usual. “What took you two so long? Were you testing out the bridal chamber?” Emma just rolls her eyes, smiles at Regina, and thanks her.

As they sail away, with the sun setting in the distance, Killian comes to her side. As he takes her in his arms, she’s reminded of a scene at the very end of The Princess Bride.

In the history of kisses, there have been five rated the most passionate, the most pure.

This one left them all behind.

#cs ff #cs spec fic #cs season six spec #cs princess bride #self promo sunday

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cleverbroadwayurl · 5 years

Text

Prom Queen (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 20)

Song: Prom Queen by Catie Turner

Word Count: 2629

Need to Catch Up? Again, everything is linked in my masterlist because Tumblr is being silly about links!

A/N: Please enjoy this new installment! I’ve been working hard on making sure that this piece is wonderful, and actually over a year ago, I started writing and rewriting this piece! I am so happy with how far it’s come and the support on it is amazing!! Thank you so much!

Taglist: @retrogarden @be-more-heidi-hansen @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @catatonic-kuragin @bluhimaweirdo @stargirl-murphy

Trigger Warnings: Jeremy self depreciating, mentions of alcohol, extreme concern, mentions of an abusive boyfriend, mentions of traumas happening to a main character, mentions of the SQUIP, if I MISSED ANYTHING LET ME KNOW

Jeremy reaches his hand out, shaking as he tries to move the cursor away from the piece of media. He stops. Sharply, quickly, he shuts his laptop and casts it aside. Rolling over, the tears that had been forming in his eyes now spill down his cheeks. He can feel his legs contracting, toes curling so hard that his muscles begin to hurt, hands gripping the blanket. You were okay. You had to be okay.

Right?

It’s been two weeks since Jeremy had packed up his entire room with Michael and landed himself back at home, in his own room, with his own bed, and his own bathroom. The change had been sudden, weird, foreign to him. There was a though as he had looked at his house—a simple one, a new one: I don’t live here anymore, do I?. As the bags rolled up and into the house, Jeremy felt himself hesitate, like the world had stopped for a second to allow him to just take everything in. Sure, he was happy to be back and see his friends, but he missed some of the people that he’d met at school. He missed being able to have explicit conversations at Michael at literally any time of the day, the 3 AM Super Smash Bros. battles on a random Tuesday. All of this even before he’d stepped into the house that he’d come to know so well. It was weird, frightening almost.

But that melted away when he set up his room and finally got things unpacked. Once everything had its place once again, it felt normal again. It had taken him a week to do that, and the second he finished, Brooke texted the group chat and asked about having a get together while Jake was still in town on vacation before his job started back up again—owning two places as an independent student wasn’t practical, so he just chose to move to the town his college was in and get a job there. He’d only be in town for a week or two, so this event would be important. It would be the only time that the group would see him before their own semesters restarted in four months.

Within the hour, it’s decided: a bonfire in Brooke’s large country backyard. The weather was finally warm enough to actually enjoy Summer activities, rather than just dream about them in the middle of class—Brooke’s words, not his. But the ability to wear a t-shirt with no coat was definitely a liberating feeling. And so it was planned. The date was set, Jake was free, and Jeremy snapped back into reality as he looked around at the done-up backyard that Brooke obviously put time into.

He glances around at the golden lights above his head, the ones from Target that are as big as your fist. The department store called them “patio lights”, but Brooke had just strung them overhead on just part of her large yard, wrapping around beams, and making what would be soon twilight calming, despite the loudness of conversations and people. Within minutes after everyone arrived, the fire was started—safely—and the party officially started. Jeremy kicked the dirt and the lemonade in his cup swished before going back to its static state.

For the safety of everyone driving, Jake mainly, who’d have to drive two hours back the next day, no alcohol was served. It just made things easier for everyone, alcohol had too many reasons to it, too many bad memories, and was too social in such a way that if one person had a drink, it’d be awkward for everyone else and visa versa. But that didn’t mean there weren’t options. There was soda, lemonade, pink lemonade, juice, and water. Of course, you could also mix different drinks together to create something new, which apparently Rich liked to do, because that’s what Jeremy ended up with after he’d asked “can you get me something to drink?”

It wasn’t a bad taste, it was just different. He’d asked for no caffeine, shockingly, because it was late and he kinda wanted to sleep that night. And Rich had kept his promise not to do that. He wasn’t going to intentionally go against someone’s wishes for no reason—that was dick move he’d been done with for almost 2 years now.

A breeze goes by, and for the first time in months, it feels good. It’s a cool 65, warm enough to wear a t-shirt and jeans, but not get cold when the breeze does hit you. The sun continues to set and the area goes from the golden that Jeremy envied and avoided so much to the darker hues of blue around him. The lights in the larger country house go on, the little kitchen window overlooking the backyard now prominent against the forest behind the party. As Jeremy zones out of conversation, he can feel heat in his chest—he missed this. He’d missed his friends, missed the get togethers, and while he really loved having people on his college campus that didn’t know anything about his junior year, he liked having people that he could relate to. He liked having a support group that didn’t need words to operate, but knew just by your actions what was happening. He enjoyed the way that he relaxed around the group, the way that everything seemed to click. No one was alone in the group, unless that person asked to be alone. He liked it. College was spent alone usually, this was…nice was the best word he could come up with.

Daisy runs through the party and stops at Jeremy. He can’t help a smile as he leans down and pets the yellow lab, her face reflecting the smile. The dog pants and enjoys the pets she gets before dashing off to a new part of the yard, chasing or following or doing something sweet that big dogs do. His heart swelled as she did so. Jeremy wasn’t sure why, but big dogs had such a soft spot in his heart. With a fluid motion, Jeremy decides to actually socialize with the people around him. His lemonade concoction swishes as he walks, and he’s careful to not spill it on himself or onto the ground. Jeremy decides to join the group of Chloe and Jenna; it’d been a while since he spoke to either of them, probably since around the holidays.

He joins in at the seemingly wrong time: Jenna’s talking about her social work classes for her major and prelaw track. She’s smart, she’s confident, and the prelaw track was unexpected, but it suits her. The information she now stores in her head is to indefinitely help people instead of using it in the snake-like way she once did. While not the social butterfly in high school, Jenna sure seems to be one in college. Good for her.

There’s an exchange on conversation, shifting to Chloe’s interest in design. She’d been debating on which design for a while, but was now narrowed down to two different kinds: textile or interior. Jeremy was sure she’d choose interior. Chloe continued to talk on, but Jeremy couldn’t pay attention to her. The things she was saying were interesting, and he’d remember the silly facts later when talking to her. He knew how much Chloe loved to talk about design and creating—he’d get the spiel later.

No, instead, something felt off. There was something ominous about the Summertime for some reason. It felt like something was missing, like there was a loose connection somewhere. It had happened before, but nothing this strong, this out of place. It was that feeling you get when first starting a horror game. That edge, that something’s wrong but I don’t know what feeling. He kicks the dirt once again, lemonade drink clonking against the sides of the cup. This time, the drink doesn’t matter, the ground is just dirt, everything just felt like shapes. Fuck, maybe Night in the Woods had gotten to him too much. It wasn’t the same kind of shapes, though. It just…everything mattered to him, but the shapes persisted around him as the feeling kept haunting him.

As a distraction, he looks at the road and the neighbor’s house across the street. It’s a wooden house, and seems to only be stained and not painted. There are shutters, but Jeremy doesn’t notice them right away. It’s almost like a much larger version of a cottage in the woods. Instead, this is in an almost field area, out in the country but not owning any land for farming. It doesn’t matter. Jeremy can’t shake the feeling that there’s something odd. The air felt different, his mind is thinking about what that one thing is. He’s too distracted for a distraction.

Another breeze passes through, and Jeremy gets a chill this time as the leaves begin applauding the night. But instead of being set back into the present, Jeremy is escorted to the past. He can remember the wooden bench, the white paint, the architecture, the light in the octagon in the center of the roof, the that he—stop. It’s a command to himself. He can’t think about you. He can’t have the memories that include his senses happen here, not now. That would ruin the night, he’d have to go home, and not by himself. There’s no possible way to operate a car while his brain is giving him flashes, beautiful moments he’d shared with you—the way you’d clutched that coffee mug in the café, the way you’d been so afraid of everything, except, for the most part, him. The way you’d fallen asleep against the window of his car as he drove you home that first night, the Instagram posts, the moments of reluctancy, how everything came crashing down during one of the longest nights of Jeremy’s life. But he couldn’t start thinking about you now. He couldn’t think about the butterfly effect, the evidence that screams at him that you’re not okay or even worse.

Now is not the moment to think about that. Those times usually end in him playing the switch until 4 in the morning, trying to rid his head of you. All anyone had to do was ask Michael about it, he’d been the one to tell Jeremy to save for fuck’s sake and go to bed. Jeremy shakes his head of those thoughts, eyes searching for Michael around the yard, but fuck, he must be hallucinating because Michael isn’t anywhere to be found. Plan B: look for Rich.

But as soon as Jeremy’s eyes scan for Rich, he can’t spy that usually easy to spot red streak that Rich had kept so nicely. It was a trademark at this point, but not being able to find the trademark was terrifying. It was at this moment that Jeremy had to find someone who could just distract him until he could find one or both of them. And that’s when the conversation at hand seemed perfect for him. Jenna’s studies were interesting, an easy distraction was laid right in front of him. So he tuned in for a bit, but his brain was only retaining little information. The conversation had turned to white noise long ago, and his hand gripped the cup in his hand, knuckles turning white from forcing himself to attempt to be calm for just long enough to pass off that things were at least okay.

His eyes finally fix on the forest that surrounds the backyard, calming trees standing proudly against the golden light from the house and string lights above them. The yellowish glow gave the scene a heavenly glow. How ironic. As the darkness continued to seep into the area, the backs of the forest better fit Jeremy’s mood. On the surface, it was light, it was easy, like the beginning of Oxenfree. But underneath, everything felt dark, something was ominous, something was missing. With that thought, Jeremy realized just how destructive to himself he was being. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about you or trying to avoid thinking about you. Wikihow was right, he shouldn’t focus on forgetting you, he should just let things happen, let thoughts happen, and not dwell on them. It was easier to stop thinking about something when you aren’t trying to actively stop thinking about it. And the logic of it made sense, it’s just much easier said than done.

So his eyes refocus on the people around him, the sky, the idea of this chill party-turned bonfire and how nice it was to see everyone again. He thought about the moments before, the plans he had afterwards, but Michael had been weird about that. They usually played games after get togethers with all of their friends, but Michael had bailed this time, claiming that Jeremy probably wouldn’t want to. It was an odd excuse, and gave Jeremy that same feeling that he’d been feeling all night—and that was it. That was why everything was so odd, so weird, and of course reintegrating yourself back into your hometown is a weird feeling by itself, because again, Jeremy definitely felt like he’d moved. With a swish of his drink, Jeremy hears footsteps growing closer and the chain link fence to keep the dogs in click open.

With a quick assumption, Jeremy assumes that it’s just Jake or Rich or something coming back from getting more ice. It wasn’t warm, but the ice was melting like it was. He supposed that the breeze couldn’t cool it down—god that was a dumb joke. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t say it out loud. Jeremy blinks, and finally he’s able to focus on the conversation again.

But the minute that he’s ready to contribute to the conversation, Chloe and Jenna had backed away a little bit, sitting near the outskirts of the yard as they look at him. Jeremy gives a shrug, a confused look, before noticing that almost everyone had backed away from him and were talking quietly. He whips his head around and locks eyes with Christine. She smiles wide, wider than he’s seen all night, and she gives him a nod before taking another sip of whatever she’s drinking. Panic starts to spread around Jeremy, worried that this was a prank. Was someone about to spill water onto him? Where was Michael, and more importantly, where was Rich? Would they need Mountain Dew Red? Had things gotten bad again? Was that the reason behind the rude prank that he was sure was going to happen?

With another second, Jeremy spots the trademark; Rich’s red streak. He’s sipping his drink, almost trying to hide the large smile on his face. Now that Jeremy notices, everyone is following suit. They all have this playful look in their eyes, almost like he was again—about to be completely punk’d by Michael Mell himself. And then, almost all at once, everyone is telling him to turn around. But he’s not falling for that, he’s not falling for Michael standing right behind him to scare him. No way, not again. Finally, there’s a sound that Jeremy can hear.

“Jeremy?”

It’s from behind him, and he recognizes Michael’s voice. Tensing and almost preparing for the worst, Jeremy starts speaking, justifying his reasoning as he does so: “Michael, I swear to god if you’re—”

And then everything stops. Jeremy’s brain stopped functioning, worse than it had in months. His mouth hung open, drink dropped and now spilling onto the dirt. If it was seeping onto his shoes, Jeremy sure as hell didn’t notice. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing as Michael stepped out of his line of sight. Jeremy can feel his mouth dry, his hands get sweaty, mind running fast enough that every motion that he’d done felt like a million years long. He wanted to say something, he prayed for something coherent and at least kind of smart to say, something that would be perfect, new, and beautiful. Something that captured everything that had been happening, but it didn’t matter. The silence was filled soon enough.

“Hey.”

It was you.

#Jeremy Heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #bmc x reader #bmc imagine #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagine

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heirs-of-prythian · 5 years

Text

5 Times Echo Wanted A Big Brother... Part 2

Here is part 2 of 6 (or 7, It depends on Tumblr being a bitch or not).

Azriel this time makes his appearance!

________________

Echo stands in her room. Hands on hips. Strands of hair are held back from her face by turquoise hair clips. She wears a green top and gray shorts with flowers stitched on it. Wings folded. A open bag lays in front of her feet. The bag already contains some things she could need for crafting.

She had a crafting date with all her cousins, except for Hemera. Because they are going to make birthday presents for Little Sun. Her birthday is in two days, on summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Hemera is turning 89 years old, which to Echo sounds old. But not as old as her parents or uncles and aunts are.

And now Art and Ari had invited everyone of the cousins except for the birthday girl to craft and make some presents for her. Which means the whole bunch would be there, Hely and Aura, Morie and Morph, Art and Ari and Cad. Echo was more than excited, Art is incredible talented when it comes to all things creative and he could definitely help her.

She actually doesn't need to bring anything. She has no doubt that Art had stocked up with everything. But she has something in mind and she needs the things in her bag for that. Probably. Just in case. Maybe she really didn't need to bring anything. Crossing her arms, the tiny Illyrian bites her upper lip between her teeth and sucks on it a little. Maybe she should just take “Asher”, her toy dog with her.

Asher is her favourite stuffed animal, he appears to be a grey Cú Faoil/Wolfhound with red eyes. She got Asher with a name already attached to it, but as a baby, she had a little trouble pronouncing the name correctly and would call it “Assa/Asha” sometimes. According to everyone, Cadan has gifted her it when she was born.

But Echo's thinking got interrupted by her father calling her. “Echo, your pickup is here!” Her pickup? Her Dad isn't going to take her to Ari? “Coming!” Curious Echo makes a quick decision and bends down to pick up Asher and goes to the front door.

Upon seeing who stands in the door, Echo brightens and she lets out a sound of delight.

Cadan! Cadan is picking her up!

He is dressed in a simple red shirt and black trousers. His shoulder long black hair is partly in a bun, keeping it out of his face. His wings aren't visible. His arms loosely on his side. He talks with her Dad.

The spiel begins.

Echo starts sprinting and jumps. Cadan had his arms already out, ready to catch her the second she started sprinting. “Hi, Little Hero!” Echo greets with a laugh, smiling at him. Cadan adjusts her a little and answer with a “Hi, Little Wonder!”, smiling back at her. Azriel meanwhile smiles with fondness at his daughter and his nephew.

“No bag?” Cadan asks her. She shakes her head.

“Just Asher. Art should have everything already, shouldn't he?”

“Smart girl!” Cad compliments her. Echo puffs her chest in pride and than giggles. “But we should get going, Little Wonder.” He adjusts her again and practically brings her into her father's waiting arms.

Echo hugs her father and then kisses his cheek. “Bye, Daddy!”

“Bye, Little Wonder. Behave and have fun.” Az tells her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, my little wonder.”

“I love you, too, Daddy!”

Father and daughter smile lovingly at each other for a few seconds. Than Azriel gives her back to Cadan. Echo stares and frowns when her older cousin keeps her in his arms instead of setting her down.

“We’ll winnow to Ari.” Cadan answers her unanswered question, as he walks out the door. Tightening his grip on her, Cadan winnows the second they are out on the street.

Hours later and a lot of crafting later. Everybody had their presents for their oldest member of the Archeron-Night Cousins ready. After finishing up cleaning the chaos they somehow ended up making, one by one, or more like in groups, the cousins left.

The first ones to go were Morena and Morpheus. The fraternal twins, Aunt Mor's adopted children. Both are blond and have dark grey eyes, that seem black in certain lights. Despite being only fraternal twins, they do look similar to each other. Morpheus or Morph yawns into his shoulder and is leaning slightly on his older by 16 minutes sister, who is a whole head tinier than him. Morena or Morie rolls her eyes at her brother's behaviour, it makes the three scars on her face like claw marks stand out a little. Echo didn't know how she got them, only that Morie loved them and didn't want them gone. She says it makes her look badass and scary. The Twins hold their presents for Hemy in their hands. They did basically the same thing. They bought two of Hemy's favourite books and decorated them to the theme of the books. The newly covered books looked very beautiful in Echo's opinion. Hemera will love them.

The spiel begins again.

Everybody hugs the twins and says “Bye, Little Wraith!” to Morena and “Bye, Little Ghost!” to Morpheus.

The next to leave are Helena and Aura. Hemera's little sisters. Helena or Hely, is a red head as Hemera, but her features are softer than her older sisters and freckles are splattered across her nose. Hely doesn't hold a present in her hands. She had already finished hers a week ago. It is new piece on her violin, which she composed for her older sister. Echo couldn't wait to hear it. Helena was absolutely amazing when it comes to playing her violin and composing new pieces. A complete prodigy in the musical field. And Echo loves it when Hely plays, it's always so, so beautiful. And emotional. Aurelia on the other hand has several framed pictures in her hands. All is full of colours. Nothing is untouched by Aura. Even the frames are painted and decorated. She couldn't decide which of her pictures she should give her older sister. So she will just give her all of them. In Echo's opinion, every picture Aura painted is pretty and amazing. And Aura seems to agree with her, as she smiles proudly down to them in her hands, while rocking back and forth on her heels.

And the Spiel begins again, as it always does. And they hug and say “Bye, Sunflower!” to Hely and “Bye, Sunshine!” to Aura.

All that are left are Cadan, Artemas, Arianna and Echo herself. Artemas has of course painted a painting for Hemera. But he hadn't shown it to them. He wanted it to a surprise for everybody. Which Ari didn't find fair, as he knows all their presents for Hemera. Echo did agree, but she didn't voice her agreement, due to Art teasing Ari. Arianna, to her own unending frustration, doesn't have even a little bit of a creative vein in her body. It irks her a lot especially with a older brother and mother like Artemas and Feyre. But Ari did manage to make something decent for their oldest cousin. It is a bookmark with sun charm on a string attached to it. It actually took her multiple times to make it until it came out good enough for her. The other first attempts were immediately destroyed due to frustration on Ari's part.

The only ones that still need to go are her and Cadan. Is her dad or mom coming to pick her up or….

She is disrupted in her thought as Cadan says. “We should get going, too, Little Wonder. It's getting late.” Echo snaps her head up. “You're taking me home?” She asks surprised. Cadan laughs. “I brought you here, I'm taking you home, silly.” Echo instantly brightens. “But can we walk instead of winnow?”

“Of course, Echo. You have everything?”

Echo nods and presses both Asher and her presents against her chest. She really hoped Hemy would like it. Her present. She decorated a few plain pens and pencils. To make them look prettier, for prettier notes.

Cadan pockets his gift, three empty notebooks decorated with quotes and suns and swords and flowers and crowns. Surprisingly the notebooks fit her pens. So now Hemy's notes can be even prettier. Than Cadan turns to Art and smirks. They seem to have a silent conversation, mind to mind. But then they nod and smile.

And the spiel begins again.

After saying goodbye to Little Moon and Little Night, Echo and Cadan have a fun time walking home. Echo holds Cadan's hand the entire way. They joke. They laugh. Cadan lets Echo jump around and walk on lower walls. Cadan had pocketed Echo's present for Hemy in the beginning of their walk home, so Echo could hold his hand.

But too soon the walk was over and they stand in front of her home. Echo knocks on the door. Her father opens it. “Hi you two. How was it?” Azriel asks as he lets them inside.

“It was so much fun, daddy!” Echo exclaims, eyes bright. Az laughs softly. Cadan just smiles down at her. Than looks at the clock in the hallway and winces.

“I should get going. I'm meeting Hemy and Art in the Day main library in a few.” Cadan explains and gives her the present he had been holding for her.

The spiel, the last one for Echo tonight, begins again and ends in a brise.

First he hugs Azriel and than Echo, saying his goodbye to both. And before Echo could say anything other back, Cadan already rushed out the door. Closing it behind him.

Echo frowns at the door. Upset, that Cadan left that early. “How about you tell me in detail what you did today, Little Wonder.” Az asks her, smoothing a hand down her hair. Echo almost instantly brightens. “Okay!” Her sadness about her older cousin leaving that fast already forgotten.

____________

And that's all for Part 2. I hope you all like it.

If you have any questions feel free to ask me. I would love to answer them.

Tagging: @beaubcxton @lux-et-tenebra @mindnumbmikey @starlightheir @guthiix @iamthebonecarverr @tswaney17 @feyres-painting-studio @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

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thorne93 · 6 years

Text

Custody Battle

Prompt: You had a son with your first husband, Keanu, but he’s being raised by your new husband, Tom. The two men cannot stand each other, and every time Keanu shows up unannounced to see the kid, he and Tom always end up arguing.

Word Count: 1751

Warnings: divorce, anger, fighting, language

Notes: this took me so long to write….But thanks to my beta @like-a-bag-of-potatoes I got it done

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername@kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

Tom Hiddleston: @camigt1999 @lenawiinchester

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was your son’s first day of school and you were so nervous and excited. What would his teacher be like? What would his class be like? What kinds of friends would he make? He was your first and only son, so far, and you were probably more nervous than he was. Your little baby was going off to school, and you knew these years would fly by now.

You were upstairs getting ready, putting in earrings for your day before you dropped Jaxton off at school.

Meanwhile, Tom, your second husband, was helping Jaxton get his backpack all ready with his new school supplies and a good, balanced lunch when the door opened.

“Anybody home?” your ex-husband called out but you didn’t hear him, you were too far back in the massive house. But Tom definitely heard him and it sent an angry shiver up his spine.

“Jaxton, buddy, why don’t you wait here?” Tom asked nicely before ruffling his dark curls and went into the foyer.

“Keanu,” Tom greeted coolly.

“Tom. Where’s my kid? It’s his first day and I want to take him to school myself,” he said point-blank. When it came to these two, there was no love, friendliness, or warm feelings. These two despised each other.

“No, Y/N and I are taking him,” he answered, glaring at Keanu.

“Excuse me? No, he’s my kid, I’m taking him.”

“And where were you when he needed school supplies? And new school clothes? And a backpack? And orientation?” Tom demanded as he thrust his arm gesturing toward Jaxton in the kitchen.

“I was working, you asshat, you outta try it,” Keanu spat. “Jaxton!” he called, glaring at Tom.

“Dad!” Jaxton sang as he ran into the formal living room then to the foyer.

“Hey, buddy! You ready for your first day?” Keanu asked as he squatted down.

“Sure am!”

“That’s my sport. Come on, I’m taking you.”

“But, I thought Mom and Tom were taking me?” he asked as he took his father’s hand.

“We are,” Tom promised sweetly before bringing a deadly gaze to Keanu.

“Like hell. I want to see him there.”

“Too bad! You should’ve been here for all the other things. You can’t just waltz into my home like you own the place!”

“I don’t own the place but I do own my son!” Keanu shouted back.

Suddenly, you heard a commotion. You ran to the top of the stairs and saw your ex-husband.

“Keanu? What are you doing here?” you asked curiously as you descended the stairs.

“It’s Jaxton’s first day, right? I wanted to be here for it.”

“Oh...I see. Well Tom and I were going to take him…” you started. “But I don’t see why we can’t bring one more,” you answered kindly. While your marriage had fallen apart, you didn’t hate Keanu by any means. You were actually pretty good friends, so long as Tom and him weren’t at each other's throats.

“Are you serious?” Tom accused. “He can’t just bust in here all the time, unannounced, and pretend like he can just take Jaxton when he wants.”

“We didn’t have a battle over custody, remember?” you reminded your husband firmly, but kindly. “He’s well within his legal right to see his son whenever he wants and take him wherever he wants.”

“But he’s my son too and this is our house and he just barged in here--” Tom stopped himself sighing.

You gently touched his arm. “Sweetie, we’re going to be late, let’s discuss this later. We’ll take my car.”

“Yes! Dad’s coming!” Jaxton said, pleased.

You all piled in the SUV, Tom up front with you as you drove, and Keanu in the back with your son. At first, the air was incredibly tense until you said, “How about some music? Jaxton, what do you want to hear?”

“Sandman!” he requested gleefully.

“Okay, Metallica it is,” you said with a laugh. You turned on the music and Keanu started to ask Jaxton about starting school.

After about half an hour, due to traffic, you finally arrived at school.

“Okay, we’re here. Do you want me to walk you in or drop you at the door?” you asked as you turned around.

“Could you take me in?” Jaxton asked, his pale features contrasting his dark little curls. He was giving you a pout and you couldn’t resist. In all honesty you wanted him to let you take him in but you wanted it to be his decision.

“Sure, baby.” You got out in your white dress, thin gold belt, and black velvet heels. All of them, something you’d designed. Life as a fashion designer had its perks, besides the money and glamor. You went around to his side and got him unbuckled and helped him out.

“Can Dad and Tom come too?” he asked hopefully. You winced slightly at the request, because you knew both men would want to come with you two.

“Uh, sure. Keanu? Tom? You two wanna come?” you asked. They immediately opened their doors and joined you on the sidewalk. Jaxton held your hand as you went in and got Jaxton’s class information, a packet, and made your way to the teacher’s classroom. All the while, the two men were trying to stay clear from one another, the animosity palpable.

“Is this Ms. Britsky’s class?” you questioned as a woman stood outside greeting kids and parents.

“Yes it is!” she said cheerfully. “I’m Ms. Britsky. And who do we have here?” she asked as she leaned down and Jaxton clutched your leg.

“I’m sorry, he’s sometimes shy,” you answered with a smile. “I’m Y/N Hiddleston,” you greeted, extending your hand. “This is Tom, my husband, and Keanu, Jaxton’s dad. And this little champ here is Jaxton Reeves.” He had kept his father’s name because Tom hadn’t adopted him and you didn’t even want to imagine what that would be like between those two. It hurt you to have different last names, it was silly, but you wanted Jaxton and you to at least share the same last name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jaxton,” she said overly sweetly as she leaned down. “Mr. Reeves, I love your films,” the teacher gushed and you smiled back at him.

“Thank you, ma’am. I really appreciate that. I’m glad you like them,” Keanu responded with a slight, polite nod.

“Oh absolutely.”

Tom rolled his eyes and set his jaw.

“Well if you want to take Jaxton to his seat, the day’s about to start for these little ones,” Ms. Britsky said.

“Okay. You ready, Jaxton?” you asked.

“Mom, I’m scared,” he said in a small voice. You crouched in front of him.

“Oh, baby, don’t be scared.”

Keanu got next to you and held his son’s shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy. Remember my movie of Bill and Ted?”

Your son’s face lit up at the mention of the silly comedy. “Yeah! Excellent adventures.”

“That’s right! Just think of this as one of your own excellent adventures. You’ll find your own Bill in there to have fun with.”

“You sure?” he asked, still a little nervous.

“Yeah, bud. Absolutely.”

“Your dad is right,” you added. “It’ll be fun. There is nothing that should scare you. You’re going to learn more colors, how to add and subtract, you’re gonna have long recesses with friends who will run and scream with you. How’s that sound?”

“Well…” he started, “that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“See?” You kissed his forehead and took his hand and the three of you led him inside to the desk that had his name on it.

Pretty soon, the other moms came over and greeted your ex and current husband, gushing over their movies and shows. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, and the urge to swat their hands away from both of them. But you swallowed all of that down because you knew how detrimental a jealous wife (or ex-wife) could ruin their popularity ratings.

The teacher came in and started class, introducing herself, how long she’d been a teacher, the whole spiel. What they would learn in the fall, and what they would start with today. She said show and tell was in a week and the first open house was in a month.

“Okay, bud, we’ve all gotta go to work,” you said as you lowered to look at him. “You’ve got our numbers, right?”

“Yes, Momma.”

“That’s my smart, prepared boy.” You kissed his head as you left, told him you loved him, and blew him another kiss as Tom almost had to drag you out of there before both of his dad's patted his back and wished him luck.

You got back in the SUV and drove back home to get Keanu back to his car.

“Thank you for letting me come,” he said as he got out.

“I couldn’t deny you of his first day,” you answered, shrugging.

“Who’s going to pick him up?” Keanu wondered.

“I will.”

“Could we alternate or…?”

“Oh please,” Tom scoffed with a pissed off tone. “Y/N, are you really going to let him pick him up?” he asked with an irritated tone as he gestured to Keanu.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “How about this? I pick him up and you can come over for dinner and we’ll all talk about his first day?”

“I’d like that. See you tonight, Y/N.” He kissed your cheek and nodded a curt nod to Tom before tossing himself in his Charger and speeding off.

You sighed as you turned to him and got back in the SUV, ready to drive Tom to his set.

“Would it kill you to be nice to him?” you asked gently.

Tom countered, “Y/N, he just barged in this morning. It isn’t his home.”

“But Jaxton is his son,” you reminded.

“I know. You don’t have to remind me. I’m not saying he can’t see him, I’m saying he can’t just drop by any time he wants. He never gives us any warning. What if we’re in the middle of something? What if my parents are over? What if you and I are being intimate?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” you defended as you drove through the streets of LA.

“But it could,” he challenged. “I’m not saying take Jaxton away. I’m just saying he call us a few hours or a day before hand.”

“I’ll talk to him about it tonight,” you promised.

“Thank you.”

#custody battle #Keanu reeves #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #Keanu reeves fic #tom hiddleston x reader

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 6 years

Text

Birthday Shenanigans

Plot: AU He’s the top of your class, comes from a well-off family, and he happens to be your best friend. But everyone else writes him off as a nerd who is cute, but has no game. Birthdays happen once a year and this one takes the cake with a few changes. What better way to spend his birthday...shopping with you and proving those haters wrong?

Rating: PG-13 (Language, talking behind someone’s back, lingerie store, mention of past bullying)

Characters: RM x Female Reader, feat. mention of other members.

Notes: This is based on a dream I had recently, tweaked slightly with a different opening. The item mentioned in the one shot is inspired by this set. Thank you @btsreactsarchive for letting me bounce the idea off of you.

How’d your test go? Sent 14:12 PM

Joon

Do you need to ask? Sent 14:15 PM

You rolled your eyes when you saw your friend’s response. He was all riled up last week about how he did on the test for History, staying up all hours of the night trying to cram as much information into his head before class the next day. You knew he had this in the bag – hell, he tended to lose his cool too much before big exams and projects, which you blamed on his parents for instilling in their eldest.

You leaned against the lockers, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for your best friend to get out of his final class for the day. Granted you were early, seeing as your Shop Class teacher thought it would be nice to let everyone go early before the weekend.

Once the bell rang, you looked up and kept an eye out for your friend in the sea of students leaving their classrooms. You spotted him stumbling out of the classroom, nearly falling on his face. A hand caught the lockers closest to him and he straightened up, fixing his glasses as a few jocks snickered at his misfortune. He ignored them as he gently nudged his way through the crowd, catching your eye.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jang decided to ramble on about some British war...in run on sentences might I add,” Namjoon sighed with a shake of his head.

You pretended to look horrified and clapped a hand to your cheek. “No! Say it isn’t so! She had the audacity to speak in run-on sentences in front of Mr. Valedictorian Kim Namjoon? Oh the shame, the tragedy!”

Namjoon rolled his eyes at you and you grinned cheekily as you walked toward the entrance to the school. You almost made it to the front when Crystal grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side.

“Y/N! Thank God I found you!” she declared. “So, Taehyung invited me to his party tomorrow night and I’m freaking out! I mean, me! Kim Taehyung asked me to come!”

You nodded and shot her a thumbs up. She grasped both of your hands and added that she needed a wingwoman for tomorrow night. At her question, you tried not to wince as you pulled your hands from hers. You weren’t as close to her as you used to be and she had gotten quite annoying after she couldn’t stop babbling on about Taehyung and her silly crush on him. Hell, the girl did so much talk about trying to get him, yet she never tried until this party invite she got. Plus, you already had plans in place.

“Sorry Crys, I’m already hanging out with Joon – it’s his birthday tomorrow,” you explained as you glanced back at him.

He was hanging by the door, waiting patiently for you to wrap things up. You frowned when he got jostled by one of the soccer players, a punk named Jungkook, who managed to make him drop his binder, notes scattering all over the place. Before you could walk over to help him, the captain of the swim team came to his side to help him collect the notes.

“Ay Jungkookie! Apologize to your hyung!” Hoseok called over his shoulder.

Jungkook ignored him and Hoseok sighed before handing Namjoon back his notes.

“Sorry – he’s getting a little too smug after that last victory,” Hoseok sighed. “Congratulations on the top grade on the exam by the way. Wish I did better, I mean, the B’s not awful, but my dad’s probably gonna talk my ear off about it.”

“Oh thanks,” Namjoon replied as he pushed his glasses up. “A B is good – not an easy test after all those threats she made.”

Crystal noticed where you were looking and sighed with a huff. “You’re joking right? The nerd? What the hell are you planning on even doing with him? Like, practicing facts and reading textbooks for fun?”

You backed up and shot her a confused look. “Hey, he’s my best friend. Who cares if he doesn’t go out and party hard like everyone else here? He’s got dreams and aspirations he’s working toward!”

“Are you guys like dating or something? I mean, that’s the only reason I could see you spending so much time with him!” she asked, hand on her hip.

You shook your head, fingers wrapping around your bag strap. “It’s. His. Birthday.” you stated. “Friends celebrate birthdays together. Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you with your crush, but I made plans with Joon a long time ago.” Before she could say anything, you turned and headed toward Namjoon, who was bidding Hoseok good bye.

“You could have gone to the party,” Namjoon spoke up after walking home with you in silence.

You jerked your head up and raised a brow. “You heard that?”

He shrugged and explained that your friend wasn’t exactly being quiet or discreet when she spoke with you. You pursed your lips together and sighed.

“Joon ignore her,” you ordered as you hoisted your bag higher on your shoulder. “She’s not close to me anymore. All she ever does is whine about Taehyung this and Taehyung that! Ugh she rambles on about him but she can’t even puck up the courage to say anything other than ‘Hi’ to him! Besides, I hate going to parties like his because you know they’re gonna involve the cops a couple of hours in.”

“True, true,” Namjoon sighed as he paused at the entrance of his neighborhood. “Hey so, I was thinking...can we, I dunno? Go shopping or something tomorrow?”

“Um Joon it’s your birthday so we can do whatever you want,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. Shopping wasn’t a favorite in your book but for your best friend, you’d do anything.

You had known each other since you were kids, his parents moving to your town from Ilsan, South Korea. His parents had come into a lot of money from a grandparent. Combined with a high profile job transfer for his father, they had been able to buy a home in a gated community. Not many people at school knew about his wealth, partly because he was shy to share that information with anyone. You had been one of the few kids to welcome him warmly and not treat him like a freak when he revealed how smart he was compared to your classmates. Hell, you even punched out one idiot, screaming at the bully that Namjoon was probably going to become the next Bill Gates.

“Where and when?” you asked him.

“I’ll text you tomorrow morning okay?”

“Mall’s already open Joon, where the hell are you?” you sighed as you checked your phone again. You crossed your legs and tried to ignore the growling sounds your stomach was making.

Namjoon had texted you when you got up, saying he’d meet you at the best mall in your town, AKA that high end one with all of the snooty boutiques and high end brands that people coveted. He asked you to hold on eating before he met up with you, saying he was going to bring coffee and breakfast. You nearly protested that you could cover breakfast and coffees, but he won his way, saying he’d see you around the time the mall opened.

He hadn’t asked you to dress up, but you took the effort to put on a clean, neat look that made you presentable so clerks wouldn’t snub you as easily. Comfortable flats, a long skirt, and a t-shirt, the whole look finished with a blazer.

You checked your phone again before you saw the last person you wanted to see today: Crystal. She was coming your way, distracted by something that someone else was saying, which you took as a sign to move by a pillar, hidden from her view. You didn’t recognize the girl she was with, but it was probably some other lackey who was suffering through her dramatic ‘OMG I’m going to Taehyung’s party – what do I wear?’ spiel.

“OMG I have nothing to wear to the party tonight!” she wailed to her companion.

“Chill, just buy something, tuck the tags in, then return it!” the other girl replied.

You bit your lip at the idea. Sure you didn’t like some of the snobby people who worked at this mall, but it seemed unfair to simply buy something, wear it once, then return it with the lie that you only tried it on at home. They had to make a living too, after all.

“You’re a lifesaver for coming with me!” Crystal sighed. “Can you believe Y/N? We’ve been friends for a long time and she chooses the nerd over me!”

“Who, the valedictorian?” her friend asked.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and narrowed your eyes. Now you were tempted to reveal yourself so you could wipe that smug bitch’s look off her face. You didn’t care if she trashed you but Joon...

“Should I try Gucci? I think Tae loves Gucci, right?” Crystal asked.

“I’m worried about their return policy,” her friend warned.

“I swear I need to find a rich boyfriend or some – whoa hello there...” Crystal murmured as her eyes drifted to someone passing by her.

You glanced around the pillar to see a young man clad in a white blouse, tucked into a pair of grey dress pants walking your way. His hair was parted to the side and was dyed a taupe, almost grey color. Once your eyes met, a familiar dimpled smile cross his lips and you blinked in shock upon realizing who it was.

“Joon?!” you gasped when he came closer. “What? How? Um wait, where are your glasses?”

He chuckled as he held out the go-to container in one hand with two coffees and breakfast sandwiches from a cafe, one cup bearing your name. You lifted the cup from the carrier, mouth still gaping.

“I’m wearing contacts today,” he explained. He draped the matching jacket over his shoulders before raising his cup to his lips. He took a sip from it and nodded at a bench a few steps away. “Wanna sit and eat before we come up with a plan of attack?”

You nodded as he led the way, ignoring the stares from Crystal and her friend. He placed the carrier between you once seated and removed his cup again, raising it toward yours. “Cheers!”

“Happy Birthday,” you added, tapping your cup against his. “Oh and here’s my present for you. Sorry it’s not designer.”

“I don’t care if it is,” Namjoon reassured you as he accepted the bag from you, unwrapping the tissue covered parcel. He smiled when he saw it was a beanie themed to Ryan, his favorite LINE character, which you made. You also bought him a small plush to go with it and he grinned brightly once he saw both things. “I love these! You made the hat?”

“Yup, seeing as you needed a hat and what better than to make it like your favorite LINE character?” you replied before unwrapping your sandwich. The initial shock of seeing your best friend looking like something out of a magazine spread had worn off, but it was still hard for you to wrap your head around. You thought Joon looked good regardless of being “nerdy” – he had a charming smile and could make glasses look good. Not that you were complaining about his current look, but one had to wonder...

“Hey so, when did all of this happen? I mean, you look sharp, but you don’t need to change your style for me or anything. You know I don’t care about appearances,” you said.

Namjoon swallowed the mouthful of his sandwich he was eating and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Yeah I know. I was thinking about some of the people we see at school every week.”

“Their opinions don’t matter Joon.”

“I know that! But today’s my birthday and I kind of felt like...well, changing things up. Maybe mess with their heads a little. You always said those people were due for revenge at some point,” Namjoon mused, a glint in his eyes. “Plus...Umma said I was due for a haircut.”

You snickered at his last sentence and he took another sip from his cup. You finished your sandwich and made a face.

“Well I wish I owned something nicer, cause I look like a slob compared to you,” you sighed.

“What are you talking about? You look great! Wait, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a skirt before!”

“I was trying to look presentable so the clerks don’t think I’m a hobo,” you shot back. You tried not to roll your eyes as you spotted Crystal coming over to you, waving dramatically.

“OMG! Y/N I didn’t know you were here!” she called out with a faux excitement. Her eyes focused on Namjoon and she took a step towards him. “Who’s your hot friend here?”

Namjoon rose from his seat on the bench and offered his hand to you. You stood up and collected the trash from your breakfast.

“Good morning Crystal, nice to see you too,” he greeted with a smile that bordered on a smirk.

Crystal shot him a confused look and looked at you for help. A matching smile appeared on your face as you nodded at Namjoon.

“We need to go, right Joon? Think you said something about getting your watch repaired?” you drawled.

Namjoon flashed his wrist, which had a pricey Rolex clasped around it. “Yeah you’re right. Sorry ladies, we need to go – the store gets pretty busy throughout the day and I’d like to have it back for tonight.” He gestured for you to go first and you thanked him, passing a trash can to toss the wrappers and napkins in. He followed, catching up to walk beside you and the both of you waited until you rounded the corner before bursting out in a fit of laughter.

��Oh. My. God.” you huffed as you tried to breathe between laughs. “Did you see her face?”

“Oh she looked...” Namjoon covered his mouth his hand as he howled at the memory of Crystal’s baffled look.

“You know, I normally hate shopping but this has been fun,” you admitted as you took a break outside Burberry.

Crystal had stalked you for a few stores, probably trying to get a glimpse of what you and Namjoon were doing. You weren’t spending any money, but you would busy yourself searching the racks and showing Namjoon things to try on. He’d go into the dressing room and emerge to strike dramatic model poses, making you laugh. He did purchase a few staples for his closet, most of them being on sale. The clerks treated both of you well, one offering you drinks and light cookies while he tried things on. When you excused yourself to the restroom at one point, Crystal had tried charming Namjoon, probably hoping he’d buy her something expensive too. Instead, Namjoon politely rebuffed her, quoting exactly what she said about him yesterday and excusing himself to find you. She gave up after his rejection and you hadn’t seen her since.

Throughout the day, you crossed paths with a few jocks from your school, many dragged by their girlfriends for a sale at Victoria’s Secret. They didn’t recognize Namjoon, many just nodding and saying he looked cool as they waited outside the store for the girls to be done.

“I had fun too,” Namjoon admitted. “Feels good looking a little different and messing with everyone’s heads.” He tilted his head and smirked. “You didn’t feel a burning desire to join the madness in Victoria’s Secret?”

“Ugh hell no! That looked like a battlefield and I swear I’d be eaten alive first!” you groaned with a shake of your head. “Plus their stuff is total crap – it doesn’t last for more than a few washes and it’s overpriced.”

Namjoon tilted his head at the last comment and you sighed, explaining that your mom took you there many years ago once puberty hit. But the hype for the store died when you realized your first bra fell apart after the seventh wash. Instead, you spent your money on bras elsewhere. He nodded before looking off in the distance, spotting a store on the far left.

“Hey, can we do one more store then lunch?” he asked. “Hope you don’t mind – I made reservations at this one place and they’re not until 13:45.”

“Sure,” you replied, standing up and fixing your skirt. “Which store?”

Namjoon didn’t respond, choosing to take long strides in the direction of the shop and you struggled to catch up. He paused once he was a few feet away and grinned cheekily. You caught your breath and looked up to read the name on the boutique overhead. La Perla.

“Joon what the hell?”

He turned to you and jutted his full lower lip out, trying to look cute. You stared at him flabbergasted and he pouted.

“Come on, humor me!” he whined. “I have a good reason to go in here!”

“I’m not putting on some skimpy number for you,” you warned, crossing your arms.

“For my birthday? Please? I’ll pick something appropriate – no actual bras or underwear.”

You stared at him giving you a puppy look and huffed, saying that you’d do it this time only. “No pictures or video,” you warned him as you grasped the handle on the door.

He gave you a mock salute as he held the door open while you entered. You stepped in and locked eyes with the clerk who greeted you, wishing you could just leave and never look back.

The clerk who was standing before you was someone you knew from middle school – she had been two grades above you and bullied you because you accidentally stepped on her stupid duster sweater she was wearing one day. You plastered a fake smile on your face when she didn’t recognize you and you quickly turned toward a rack of their ready-to-wear clothing, inspired by lingerie designs.

“We have a Sale on our Spring/Summer items,” she announced.

You nodded, muttering a thank you as you moved to the area where the sale items were housed. Namjoon picked up a negligee trimmed with lace and grinned as he held it up. You shot him a glare and he quickly put it back.

You skimmed past some evening or special event dresses before pausing at a pair of pants, tailored with a slim fit and a high waist. They were a deep red color and the fabric felt nice between your fingers as you stroked the material. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all.

“I’ll try these,” you said to the clerk as you held out the pants. She nodded and took them from you while you skimmed the rack to make sure there wasn’t anything else to try.

“Are you ready?” she asked as you approached her.

You nodded and she beckoned for you to follow her to the dressing rooms. She threw back the curtain and hung the pants on a hook. As she was turning to leave, she paused to look back at you.

“Excuse me for saying this, but you seem familiar – do I know you?” she asked.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and opened your mouth to answer, but was cut off by Namjoon yelling your name, saying he’d be sitting outside waiting for you to show him the pants. Thanks a lot Joon.

“You look good,” the clerk said with a polite smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

You stared dumbfounded at the curtain, wondering if you were imagining things. Was she actually being civil? You almost pinched yourself but decided against it, remembering why you were standing in a dressing room of all places.

Turning your attention to the pants, you unclipped them from the hanger and unzipped the back. Your flats were kicked off and you draped your skirt on the chair. One leg was in the pants when you heard a knocking sound on the wall by the curtain.

“Y/N, your boyfriend wants you to try on the matching top with the pants – what size are you?” the clerk called out.

You blinked when she said ‘boyfriend’, struggling to get the pants on. You called out your top size and she left to find it. She probably thought Namjoon was your boyfriend, which would explain why you were in a fancy lingerie store trying things on.

You heard her heels clicking toward your dressing room and she dangled a matching red crop top through the curtain opening. “Let me know if that size works for you. If not, I think we have the next size up, but I’ll have to check in the back.”

“Oh um, thanks,” you said as you took it from her. You zipped up the pants and stared at yourself in the mirror, one hand holding the matching top and the other bunching up your t-shirt so you could see the waistband on the pants. Your eyes wandered to the top in your hands and you sighed.

It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline that dipped low enough to show a sliver of cleavage. The bottom was finished in a similar manner to the top of the pants. Normally you detested wearing crop tops like this, but since the pants were high waisted, maybe it would look okay?

You tossed your t-shirt onto the chair and unhooked your bra, draping it over the back of the chair. You unzipped the side on the crop top and put it on, adjusting it so it lay flat and supported your breasts properly. A quick glance in the mirror made you take a double take.

The set was...hell, flattering with a small amount of skin showing between the bottom of the top and the waist of the pants. It almost reminded you of something a 40s or 50s era girl would wear, only more modern and very expensive. You didn’t even want to think about how pricey these still were.

“Y/N, may I see?” Namjoon called out.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and straightened up, pushing the curtain to the side and walking out to the couch where Namjoon was seated. He was sipping a sparkling water, one leg crossed over the other. Once he laid eyes on you in your new ensemble, he raised his brows with a nod of approval.

“You look strong,” he murmured with a smile. “Like a boss. Seriously, you look so good.”

“Thanks,” you murmured as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s...beautiful. I mean, normally I don’t go for tops like this, but it looks...cool with these. I feel kind of classy retro in a way.”

“So yes or no jagi?” he asked with a wink.

“Ummm...I’ll have to think about it,” you replied with a small smile, going along with his little charade. He probably overheard the clerk call him your boyfriend.

You walked back to the dressing room and closed the curtain, checking the tags on the clothes. You winced when you saw how expensive they were, despite being on sale. Before you could start changing out of them, you heard your phone ding and you retrieved it from your purse.

Joon

So what is the damage if you got them? Sent 13:27 PM

You

Definitely not in the cards. They’re too expensive! The pants alone are over $200! Sent 13:28 PM

I don’t have that kind of money to spend right now! Sent 13:28 PM

He didn’t reply after that and you took that as a sign to get dressed and make your way out of here. You hung up the items before slipping your own clothes on. As you were smoothing out your skirt, you heard another knocking sound, accompanied by the clerk’s voice asking how everything fit.

“They fit beautifully, but I’ll have to give them some thought,” you replied as you threw back the curtain. You held out the items to her with a polite smile and she glanced back at the register before looking at you.

“Really? Cause your boyfriend said you’re taking them,” she remarked. “He’s about to pay for them right now.”

You stuck your head out of the dressing room and saw Namjoon was waiting by the counter, card in hand. He winked at you and you shot him a knowing smile before looking back at the clerk.

“Well I guess I am,” you remarked.

She took them from your hands and draped the pants over her arm. “Hey um...listen I know I was a bitch when we were kids. I had some messed up stuff happening to me and...well, I handled it terribly. Um, any chance we can put it behind us?”

You blinked and studied her face for any signs that she was tricking you. She stared back with a small smile and nodded wistfully at Namjoon. “He’s a keeper from what I can tell. Smart, handsome, a good guy...wish I was lucky.”

“Yeah he’s full of surprises,” you murmured with a smile.

“Joon you didn’t have to spend so much on me today – it’s YOUR birthday!” you complained once you were far away from the shop.

“But you’ve done a lot for me as a friend!” he protested. “Also, wasn’t it nice to show that girl that you’re doing better? I think I remember you telling me she made your life a living hell in school.”

“Well...yeah but she did apologize while we were in there,” you admitted. “She thought we were dating.”

“And look at all those haters before today that said we were undateable!” Namjoon joked. “Today, we’re vibing and riding high!”

You rolled your eyes as you nudged him in the arm. “Funny, but in all seriousness, I will pay you back for those – promise.”

“Actually if you wore them to school – with a jacket so you don’t get yelled at for bare shoulders – while I wear my fancy suit, we could have one last troll day,” he offered with a smirk. “Can you imagine how many people would lose their shit seeing us? We could get the last laugh.”

“That does sound tempting,” you pondered.

“Please for me, I say we do it,” Namjoon begged. “I overheard a few guys in the locker room saying you’re a dude with long hair. Prove ‘em wrong.”

“With that, sounds like we got a game plan for Friday,” you declared with a smirk. “We’ll dress normal, then Friday rolls around – BOOM!”

#BTS AU #BTS imagine #BTS RM #BTS RM imagine #RM imagine #Kim Namjoon #Kim Namjoon imagine #KNJ #tw: mention of bullying #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2373

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florrickandassociates · 6 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 2x07-- Day 450

Recap under the cut!

Big things, of the secret variety, are happening at LG. The conference room’s walls are covered; NDAs are laid out on the table. There is also one big, comfy looking chair in the conference room, looking out of place amid all the standard office chairs.

Lucca’s the first to ask what’s going on. Marissa isn’t sure—it’s top secret; all she knows is that the partners’ schedules have all been cleared.

“Have you seen this?” Marissa changes the subject. “Chicago lawyer playing cards.” “What?” Lucca asks. “Most wanted playing cards. They already have the four dead lawyers,” Marissa explains. The website peddling these cards? Is in Comic Sans. Thank you, whoever made that choice. I’m guessing you did it intentionally and I appreciate it. It’s an alt-right website, Marissa says. “What are you doing looking at an alt-right website?” Maia asks. “I look at everything,” Marissa states. I don’t think it’s that weird! Weren’t they just on a case about belonging to radical groups online?

Lucca wants to know if any of the RBL lawyers are in there. Marissa says she’s going to order a deck and find out. Maia’s appalled at the thought of giving this group money (tbh I am too).

Maia asks what’s going on in the conference room, and Marissa shrugs and says, “The ways of the partners are mysterious to us mere mortals.” Have I mentioned that I love it when we can see the power structures at work? Because I do.

Marissa tries to get information out of Diane—even how long the meeting will last—but Diane doesn’t say anything.

Luckily for us, we’re viewers and not employees, so we get to know what’s happening. It’s an audition for the DNC’s business, conducted by Ruth Eastman. I didn’t expect to see Ruth back on the show, ever, after how badly the writers botched her season seven arc (so much promise squandered!) But here she is. And she’s used much more effectively in this episode.

While I’m thinking of it, the promo for this episode was in Russian, but nothing in the COTW (aside from a few mentions of collusion) is about Russia. So… was the entire promo a shout-out to the TGW/F/The Americans fans? It wouldn’t be the first time. And I’ll take it.

“We’re in a very peculiar time,” Ruth says. Diane laughs, because a good 25% of Diane’s dialogue these days is just laughter. Ruth isn’t bothered: she says laughing is the “only sane reaction these days.” Diane agrees wholeheartedly. “We’re living in a time of farce, not tragedy,” the writers have Ruth explain. (I phrase it like that because, come on, that’s exactly the point of this season’s tone.)

Ruth is there with an interesting opportunity: the DNC wants a plan to impeach 45 ready to go if a blue wave happens in November, and so they’re auditioning law firms to decide which arguments (and which lawyers) will be the most effective. For now, this all has to stay hush hush, lest voters get the idea that a vote for a Democrat is a vote for impeachment and get scared off.

After some build up, Ruth turns to write on a white board. The marker doesn’t work. “New!” she says, pleasantly, discarding it. She starts the build up again: “This is the question we want you to ponder and answer…” But the next marker doesn’t work either. “WELL, SHIT!” she says angrily, throwing the marker to the floor. This is the best thing Ruth has done on this show.

Carine, a woman on Ruth’s team, volunteers to get more markers. Ruth keeps going with her spiel.

Carine grabs the nearest employee, who happens to be Maia, and asks where the black markers are. They flirt/banter on their way to the supply closet, and Carine thinks Maia looks familiar. Maia deflects the question and shows Carine the markers (they only have pink and purple, because it’s funnier that way).

“Seriously, I know you from somewhere. Where?” Carine insists. Maia thinks for a minute. “Okay, so you know how we just had a little exchange back there and I made you smile, you made me smile?” “Yes, I remember.” “Well, remember that when I tell you who I am,” Maia says. I wonder how many times she’s used (or will use) that line.

“Are you a serial killer?” Carine jokes. “Oh, close. Maia Rindell,” Maia introduces herself. Hee.

Carine recognizes that name. Maia walks away to avoid prolonging the awkwardness, but Carine isn’t as put off as Maia assumes…

Meanwhile, Lucca is working on a case about a film shoot when she notices Francesca walking down the stairs. She excuses herself from a meeting, and her client assumes it’s because she has to pee. His pregnant wife always has to pee, so he feels it is his place to inquire about Lucca’s bathroom habits. No matter how many times Lucca says she doesn’t have to go to the bathroom, the client won’t believe her.

Maia greets Francesca. Lawyer, professional greeter, same diff.

Francesca has brought Lucca a present, and Lucca asks Maia to go deal with her client (“and tell him I’m not going to the bathroom”). I have a question! If Lucca could spot Francesca from the room she and the client were sitting in, can’t the client see that Lucca is by the stairs and not, in fact, in the bathroom? ANYWAY. Maia’s job in this episode consists of knowing where markers are kept, greeting visitors, and informing Lucca’s clients she’s not in the bathroom. Is… there no work for Maia to do? Should I be concerned about RBK’s future? Are they overstaffed?! WHY DOESN’T MAIA DO WORK?

“Very nice meeting you. I think your dad stole some of my husband’s money,” Francesca tells Maia. Ok, People Recognizing Maia is my new favorite running gag. “Sorry,” Maia apologizes. “That’s a good thing. He’s an asshole,” Francesca says, emphasizing asshole. She’s so fun.

In Lucca’s office, Francesca tells her that she’s given up drinking, except wine. Well. That’s… something, I guess?

Francesca’s gift is a stuffed dog that sings “If You’re Happy and You Know It” and claps its hands and waves its ears. It is adorable and grating. “For my grandchild,” Francesca says, touching Lucca’s stomach. Why do people just go and touch pregnant women’s stomachs without asking if they can? I have never understood this.

Over the course of this whole scene, the dog’s flapping ears are visible, at least in part. It is wonderful and distracting and the only thing that could make it more Good is if they were in an elevator.

Even rewatching this scene, with captions on, I cannot see anything other than the dog and its ears. I think Francesca is saying she wants to be in the baby’s life and Lucca’s saying she doesn’t want Francesca involved. But I don’t know. Because ears.

After Francesca leaves, Lucca immediately moves to discard the dog. Francesca doubles back and almost catches Lucca in the act, but the second she turns around again, Lucca shoves the dog in a drawer.

“People understand emoluments,” Adrian is saying when we return to the conference room. They do? By that name? ‘Cause I just had to spell-check that word (even though I know what it means). I’m joking, because I think what Adrian means is that people understand the idea behind it. Still, a weird sentence.

Julius is opposed to the whole idea. He thinks the Dems are starting with the goal and working backwards. Some other partner wants to go after collusion. And Diane wants to go for obstruction, because of the precedents. (And the fact that there are so many paths that could make a good case is why I disagree with Julius. Maybe they’re starting with the goal, but how much does that matter if there are many valid reasons for having that goal? But then, I guess Julius would take issue with my use of “valid”…)

Adrian is against what Andre (the other partner) wants to pursue: collusion. He thinks it has too many Russian names for the public to understand it. Adrian’s whole strategy here is to find the argument that will be the easiest to sell.

Diane is so fired up about this, and I love it. (I also think she’s making the best case.)

“He’s not above the law!!” Diane exclaims. Nobody’s above the law! (Sing it with me!)

Julius won’t quit with these silly arguments. Now he’s comparing Republicans wanting to impeach Obama to what’s going on here. I don’t think it’s just my political bias speaking when I say that’s ABSURD.

Julius’s whole thing is that 45 was voted into office so he shouldn’t be impeached and then removed from office. So… Julius is anti-the concept of impeachment? I think his argument is a little more nuanced than that and he’s making the better case: that impeachment isn’t a tool for political parties that didn’t get their way. I’ll spare y’all my half-informed political rants and instead make this point: I appreciate that even Julius’s points have some validity to them. Too often, this show simplifies these arguments or handles them poorly, and this episode… does a pretty good job.

Ruth steps out for a minute, and reminds RBL of their mission: to choose a strategy, something that will stick the way emails stuck to HRC. (Don’t remind me!! Those goddamn emails.)

With Ruth out of the room, Adrian tries to get Julius to stop losing them a client. Julius says he’ll play devil’s advocate. Then Adrian tries to get Liz to speak up. She’s been watching and taking everything in.

Ruth takes a call about “Barnsdale. Illinois 1st.” She asks Lucca if she can use some random office, and commandeers it before Lucca can respond. She picked a bad office to have a private conversation in, though, because it’s one of the ones with the angled glass walls. These offices—which I’ve been wondering about for WEEKS because they don’t seem the slightest bit private—have gaps in the windows and it seems like (and turns out to be the case that) someone in the hallway would be able to hear every word said inside of the office.

And it just so happens that Lucca overhears the exact conversation she needs to overhear: a Congressman up for reelection is being asked—well, more like told—by the DNC that he can’t run again because he’s a groper. Lucca recognizes what this means: it’s the district Colin was thinking of running in.

So Lucca does what all Good characters would do: distracts Colin at work with her presence until he forgets what he’s talking about, then walks away.

Colin’s first thought is that something happened with the genetic screening. Lucca says it’s not that; it’s about his mother. “I didn’t want to run; my parents wanted me to run,” Colin says when Lucca asks him about the Illinois 1st. “Oh, so you’re not running?” Lucca counters. And Colin? Can’t answer that definitively.

Colin says he won’t run if he has to campaign, but if all he has to do is get the support of the DNC, he’ll run. Uh huh.

Lucca’s fear is that she’s being used for political gain. It’ll look better if she and Colin are together. Colin tries to keep Lucca out of it, even going so far as to say Lucca can tell his mother to “fuck off,” but… you don’t have to watch the rest of the episode to understand that’s never going to happen.

Then Colin asks about the genetic testing. Lucca says, “Oh, everything’s… good.” Colin mentions a family history. Does anyone else feel like she might be hiding something here? This is a weird scene. She’s already said the baby’s fine, yet they have her double back for this conversation AND they mention Colin’s family history? It would not shock me if Lucca was waiting on some test results and keeping it to herself. But also, like, I have seen this show and it would surprise me even less if we never heard about this again.

I may have to take back what I just said about Julius, sadly. Diane makes the more nuanced point I extrapolated from Julius’s words and Julius tries to rebut it. So. Whatever. It’s in early scene cross-talk (you know, the lines that aren’t meant to make a point but are rather meant to show you that there’s heated debate, so you can jump in mid-scene and it won’t feel awkward), and I’ve heard weirder things (like Alicia explaining why we don’t need female politicians in 220, a line I don’t think I was supposed to notice because I was supposed to be paying attention to her poise and the ease of her answers) in early scene cross-talk.

This audition doesn’t seem to be going well. That’s when Liz speaks up. She starts talking about some evidence that came across her desk at the DOJ. At first, I thought the writers were trying to introduce new facts into their hypothetical, and I was disappointed. But that’s not what they’re up to. Instead, they’re having Liz tell an increasingly elaborate, and possibly not baseless (would ANY of you be surprised if pieces of evidence similar to the ones Liz invents actually existed?) story to prove her point. Liz is demonstrating that the story keeps changing. “You’re all missing the point! It’s not about choosing one charge or another for impeachment. It’s about everything. It’s about who he is. It’s about what the presidency is. Charging him with obstruction, that’s going by the old rules. And the new rules are these. ‘I have a tape.’ ‘Where’s the tape?’ ’15-year-old was raped, and I’ve got the evidence.’ ‘Where’s the evidence?’ ‘Same place as the tape.’”

Diane laughs. “My God, this is insane!” Julius replies.

“No, no no no. This is shameless,” Liz clarifies. “And impeachment has to be shameless, or else it’s gonna fail.”

“So. You lie,” Julius accuses.

“No, no no no no no. You just don’t back down,” Liz says. “But there is no tape!!” Julius says. “Uh-uh. That’s what you said. I didn’t say that,” Liz argues. God, that’s what reading the news today feels like. Like logic and facts are no longer persuasive.

“Listen. This isn’t about truth anymore. And it’s not about lying. It’s about who’s backtracking, and who’s attacking,” Liz concludes. I don’t know what to think, and I love that. Liz’s approach is outlandish. It’s also convincing. And it’s maddening. These things should be based on facts. And yet!

I love that I can agree with Liz and think her point is absurd/laughable at the same time. I love that the show is able to capture the way that laughable and strategic can be the same today. It’s super effective.

When Ruth leaves for the day, Adrian immediately begins talking down to Liz in front of all of the partners. “Liz. Liz, Liz, Liz, what the fuck are you doing?!” I do not like this side of Adrian, especially when Liz is (obviously) being strategic and novel.

And also effective! Ruth tells her colleagues at the DNC that “we might have something here.”

Aaaand, credits. Another female writer this week! She wrote an ep last season too. And she’s great: I spent 17 minutes convinced the Kings had written this one because she captured the tone and the big moments so well. Also, I just googled her (her name’s Tegan Shohet) and she has a really fucking impressive resume. She did her undergrad at Harvard, has a law degree from Yale, and she has another degree from Oxford.

Maia and Amy (hello, Amy!) are kissing at a bar after the credits end. They’re out on a double date with Marissa and Drew, the guy from the ricin scare. Drew has this look in his eyes like he’s on something. I don’t like it one bit.

He and Marissa start making out mid-conversation. It’s almost aggressive, and not like Amy and Maia’s kiss just moments ago. Part of that is, I think, that we’re supposed to see Amy and Maia as a bit passionless right now, but it also seems… weird. Something is up with this dude. I don’t trust him.

But I would rather watch him and Marissa making out than hear Amy and Maia state “facts” that screw up the timeline!!!!!!!!!!! LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU WITH YOUR “WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR FOUR YEARS” BUSINESS WHEN I LITERALLY WATCHED YOU MEET AT MAIA’S 18TH BIRTHDAY PARTY; I’M BUSY WATCHING THIS AWFUL DUDE STICK HIS TOUNGE IN MARISSA’S MOUTH.

Drew also has no filter. Oh, and then he gets up at hits someone, claiming they took an upskirt of Marissa. But before that happens…

Amy and Maia are talking about getting married! And we didn’t get to see how they smoothed things over after 2x02? What a shock…

(Well, also, I feel like this ep pretty strongly suggests they didn’t really work through that.)

Seriously though, what the hell is Drew doing? What is his deal?

Marissa, who believes someone took an upskirt photo of her, reacts to Drew’s actions as though he’s a hero. She rewards him with a kiss. That makes Maia smile, because… I don’t really know. It makes Amy roll her eyes. Can we have Amy as a regular and not Maia?

“We need to toast your news!” Marissa says, making plans for the second consecutive weeknight. “Our news?” Amy wonders. OOOOOF. That relationship cannot be in a good place.

Maia seems kind of… turned on? By Drew and Marissa.

Amy doesn’t believe that the dude in the bar was actually trying to take an upskirt. Amy thinks Drew just wanted to hit someone. I agree with Amy here.

Amy then asks if they have to see them again. Maia says that Marissa’s a friend.

Amy tells Maia to talk to Marissa because people like Drew can be “dangerous in a relationship.” I had that same thought just from the way he was kissing her in public (it seemed quite possessive). And you know what I don’t need? For another investigator on this show to end up in an abusive relationship.

(That said, this is MILES better than any Kalinda/Nick bullshit.)

Now cameras are being installed in the conference room.

Marissa clearly stayed out for several more hours after Maia and Amy headed home. She’s wearing sunglasses at her desk and can barely answer questions. That’s also a big warning sign. Marissa’s hungover at work. It’s not a pattern yet, but I’d hate to see it become one.

Lucca meets with some partners about her client, Lock. She wants to give them a heads-up, but it seems he’s already left the firm because of Lucca’s pregnancy. Well, he said her “mood swings,” but lol.

Even Liz, who’s very understanding, is inclined to believe the client. Every time Lucca tries to defend herself, someone tries to comfort her or calm her or tells her not to get upset. I love Cush’s delivery of the line, “I’m not getting upset…” because she says it with just a hint of confusion. She doesn’t sound upset (at least not unreasonably so). She sounds like someone who’s slowly realizing that no one will take her words seriously as long as she’s pregnant.

Every time Lucca tries to take action, the partners shut her down and offer to help. It’s just weird. I can’t speak to whether or not it’s realistic because I’ve never been pregnant, nor do I work at a law firm managed mostly by non-parents (or any sort of law firm, for that matter), but it feels like it’s realistic. It’s subtle and the partners are encouraging, but they are making assumptions about Lucca’s work performance and capabilities based on the fact she’s having a baby.

Ruth appears! RBL is now one of four! Naturally Adrian believes this is because of what he and Diane were saying, and not because of anything Liz said. He believes this so strongly he calls Liz aside to give her an order. “No more shit Liz, okay?” He says like she’s a child (a child with a potty-mouth, I guess). She calls him on it. “Adrian, when did you get the impression that you could order me around?” He denies it, and Liz goes STRAIGHT to talking about their marriage. The teacher who married his student for her ties in the legal world CONDESCENDED TO HER? I’m just shocked. (Lol no, this is how I have been picturing their marriage for a few weeks now.)

Adrian asks Liz again to get behind the obstruction charge (Diane’s idea) so they can seem united. She says she’ll consider it.

I wonder if the reason Adrian can’t see that Liz has a plan, and that her plan is working, is that he’s so used to underestimating her.

Adrian and even Julius get behind Diane’s plan. It’s so transparent that they’re trying to show they’re united. “Now, we may disagree, but we find consensus,” Adrian explains. LULZ.

As soon as Adrian says “consensus” and Julius echoes it, Diane announces she’s changed her mind and now sides with Liz. This surprises even Liz! Ooh, will we get more on the Diane/Liz tension?

“I’m tired of ‘when they go low, we go high.’ Fuck that! When they go low, we go lower. Impeachment isn’t just about the law. It’s about persuading people. And if it’s one thing that we’ve seen this past year, it’s that lies… persuade. Truth only takes you that far… and then you need lies.” Guys, I’m seriously terrified by how much I understand this. Even the fact that my first reaction upon hearing this was, “she has a point” and not, “what??? That’s a lie!” scares me. When TGW was airing, I wouldn’t have believed that Diane would ever say this. And I wouldn’t have believed that would be my reaction. But, then, I also wouldn’t have believed this country would elect Donald Trump. What I’m saying is that regardless of whether this is a good strategy or not, or if it’s morally sound, or hypocritical, the way that it’s not easy to dismiss or laugh at is… the point.

Julius calls this “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” “You’re just as bad as you’re accusing him of being,” he explains. ACCUSING? Come on, Julius. If you think the word “alleged” would need to be in a sentence that calls him a liar…

Anyway. Another thing I love about Diane’s speech is that it’s coming both from a character place AND a political place. The next part of her rant makes this point well: “I’m just done with being the adult in the room. I am done with being the compliant and sensible one. Standing stoically by while the other side picks my pockets, while the other side gerrymanders Democrats out of existence. A three million person majority and we lost the presidency. A Congress that keeps a Supreme Court justice from being seated because he was chosen by a Democratic president.”

(I am gonna keep going on this but LOL Julius what planet do you live on where that’s not what happened? FACTUALLY THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED.)

Diane has always been the adult in the room. That’s a role she’s fantastic at playing, and she loves it. And now she’s tired of it?! That can’t just be because of Trump. That’s what someone who lost her best friend, lost her husband, lost her money, lost her clout, watched her candidate lose an election, and, finally, felt and still feels like there’s a target on her back would say. Why should she be the one to hold things together when everything else is falling apart? What’s the point of acting like the rules still apply?

Julius says some nonsense about how if Diane really believes that, she’s lost all faith in the law. To which Diane replies that she has a gun in her desk “and I’m this close to taking to the streets.” That, my friends, is someone who is all of the things I said above, and also on drugs, would say. And somehow, that person is… Diane Lockhart.

(And weirdly, while I can’t say it’s necessarily the direction I want to see the writers take Diane, I can’t honestly say it’s out of character. Terrifying, right?)

IT DID NOT CATCH MY ATTENTION THE FIRST TIME THROUGH BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAIA IS DOING AT WORK? CHECKING TWITTER. (I mean, I check Twitter at work. I’m sure most people check their phones at work. You could catch the most productive employee on Twitter at work. But somehow we have endless amounts of time to show Maia not working and no time to show Maia working.)

Carine is back, to tell Maia about her own father. He was a disgraced senator, so she’s part of the “damaged offspring club” too. Hey, where are Zach and Grace? Is Zach still in Paris (lol) with his wife (hahahaha) writing his memoir (bwahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha)? How’s college treating Grace? ANYWAY. NOT THE POINT.

The point is that Carine and Maia are making a connection.

Also that in one scene, Maia manages to: Surf Twitter on her work laptop, flirt, and make plans to go drinking. Writers, come on. Throw me a bone. Give Maia work to do. (Two of these things are not her fault—Carine and Marissa come over to talk to her—but still!)

Marissa pops by to invite Maia to go out dancing at 10 pm on a work night. Maia turns it down initially, but then says maybe. What does she have to lose? She could show up hungover the next day and it wouldn’t matter. IT’S NOT LIKE SHE HAS ANY WORK TO DO!!!!!!

When Marissa leaves, she’s all “luv uuuuuu” (that is my approximation of the tone) and Maia quietly whispers back “love you.” Am I supposed to be getting the feeling that Maia’s crushing on Marissa? She also smiles a little after Marissa walks away.

“There’s a tweet I think you should see,” Maia informs Lucca. Lucca asks if it’s about work (of course it isn’t; that would require Maia to be working NO I WON’T STOP) and it’s about Colin’s campaign. Specifically, a horribly racist tweet about how he got a “black girl” pregnant (“hashtag Sally Hemmings”)

“So I’m a black girl. A black, pregnant, plantation girl,” Lucca responds. Maia is like “I don’t think it implies that” which, I mean, I buy Maia holding that opinion because it would mean she is super privileged, white, and didn’t pay attention in history class and you KNOW I would believe all of those things. But also, it’s a mean tweet that refers to Lucca as “a black girl.” Why would Maia even want to defend that?

Lucca’s TRENDING too. I wish Lucca would trend. Not for this. I mean publicity for the show.

Also trending is Earth Day. Wanna know something fun about Earth Day? It is in April. Specifically it’s April 22nd (which is a Sunday and the day of the next episode, but I will ignore that because it’s close enough and Earth Day could be trending in advance). Lucca is due in May. She is four months pregnant. WHAT MONTH IS IT, SHOW?

Maia accidentally kicks a drawer under Lucca’s desk and it begins to sing. “What is that?” she asks. “It’s a dog,” Lucca replies, as though that explains anything.

Lucca furiously begins to type—to Tweet! This is a bad idea. Has Twitter ever been a good idea on this show when it was controlled by anyone other than Eli or Marissa Gold? (No.)

Lucca (@lquinn) has fired off a reply tweet (“I’m the black woman having Colin Morello’s baby and my name is Lucca Quinn. Did Sally Hemmings have a law degree? #MoreLikeMichelle”) that is snarky and probably misguided, especially since it’s a trap laid by Colin’s campaign manager NotEli. (He isn’t getting a name.)

More bickering, verging on nervous breakdowns, are happening on the DNC live feed. The juiciest live feed since the NSA was listening to Alicia? Anyway.

“I’ve spend the last few months feeling fucking deranged! Like I’m living in some bad reality show! Going numb! All Trump, all the time! What’s real? What’s fake? Well, you know what? I just woke up,” Diane yells. And by yells, I mean yells. Damn.

Liz takes Ruth outside to try to get her to get Julius out of the audition. Liz always has some kind of plan.

Later, Adrian walks into Diane’s office, concerned. “I have never been more all right,” Diane says. U SURE? Did you just take a hit of something? Adrian asks how much of this is show and Diane is like, it’s a show!

Adrian wants to know about the gun in her desk. Yeah, I feel like that’s a valid concern, given that there is a GUN IN HIS WORKPLACE. Not only is that probably illegal but it’s also a hazard.

Marissa brings more bad news: the Chicago lawyer playing card deck, and we get to hear a few of the names in it. David Lee (IS ANYONE SURPRISED?). Patti Nyholm (Ditto). Laura Hellinger. WAIT WHAT? LAURA HELLINGER IS THE SWEETEST. (Can you tell I just rewatched season 4?) What is there to hate about Laura Hellinger!? Why bring her name, of all the names, into this?!

The partners decide to ignore it for now—why give it more attention?—but Adrian, Liz, and Diane are all in the deck. Damn.

Upon seeing her own face on a card, Diane says, “To answer your question, Adrian, yes, I have a gun in my desk.”

It’s at that moment Ruth interrupts to ask Julius not to join the RBL team for the remainder of the audition. Julius, after hearing he’s out, flips off the other partners. Professional. Though I can’t really criticize him, because it’s not like anyone else is being professional.

Maia tries to convince Amy to go to the dance club with her. Amy has a trial starting the next day and she doesn’t want to go, so it’s an impossible sell. Maia makes a bogus excuse: she thinks she should go so as not to be impolite. To Marissa. She sees. Marissa. Every. Day. She and Marissa are friends. It is not impolite to say no to going to a dance club at 10 pm on a work night with someone you went out with the night before. This is an excuse. Maia wants to go out; Amy doesn’t. So Maia’s looking for any reason she can find to go out.

Maia also misses a crucial detail—that Amy’s trial starts tomorrow so there’s no reason to wish her good luck now. This seemed weird the first time through, but then I realized: Maia and Amy live together. And that’s the kind of comment you make to someone you’re not going to see for a little while.

Lock wants Lucca to be his lawyer again. Lucca suspects that Maia might have called him (no that would involve Maia taking initiative so it’s unlikely). But no. The answer is that he’s on Twitter. And that’s when Lucca realizes that she has power.

She shows up at Colin’s door. “I’m not gonna marry you. I’m not gonna pretend otherwise. I’m not gonna lie, I’m not gonna mislead, and I’m not gonna be the woman who stands by your side. I’m the mother of your child, a close friend of yours, and a registered voter in the 1st Congressional District of Illinois. You want my support, you’re gonna agree to my terms,” she demands.

She goes on: she will do one appearance a month, issue a statement, and do interviews. Damn. Colin didn’t even have to negotiate for that.

Francesca is also at Colin’s house. So is NotEli, whose first words to Lucca are “Wow, that’s pregnant.” Off to a great start!

NotEli’s name is Stephen Rankin-Hall. I will continue to call him NotEli.

Now we get some exposition about the campaign. We’re actually doing this. The writers wrote Alicia out and found a way to bring campaigns back.

More deliberations in the conference room. The DNC is watching in real time, and they’re missing the fire of the deliberations with Julius. Using all the coded language in the world, Ruth requests that RBL show their “more pugnacious attitude.”

As soon as she leaves, the partners prove they got the message loud and clear. “They want us to be street,” Liz says, with a trace of anger. No one’s thrilled about it, but they’re all willing to play along. “I will be the angry black woman,” Liz decides. “And you can be Black Lives Matter,” she says to Adrian. (He chuckles.) “What about me?” Diane wonders. “You keep us calmed. But we can’t be calmed. But you’re the white conscience,” Liz says. LOLLOLLOLLOLLOLLOLLOL.

And back to the conference room they go, playing their roles perfectly until they’re screaming at each other about how fantastic Ta-Nehisi Coates is. It’s hilarious. And it piggy-backs off of the point the show made last week: there are certain roles that even (especially) those who call themselves progressives expect people to play based on their race. Diane’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and she gets to be the conscience because she’s a classy white lady. Liz and Adrian have been strategic throughout all of this and they’re understood when they play up their anger in a very specific, stereotypical way.

(I don’t know that this strategy actually works in the context of the show, since we know that Liz and only Liz is chosen, and I’m going to guess her initial idea helped her more than this show. Even still. The firm is flat out told by the DNC that they will do better when they fit into an easy, familiar (racist) narrative.)

Liz and Adrian sit together in his office after their performance. “I never know how far is too far,” Adrian says. “At least you’ve reached a point in your life where you can admit it,” Liz says. That’s pointed.

Just want to take a moment to say I’m very happy with the addition of Liz. She’s fascinating, Audra’s fantastic, and I can tell so much about Liz from even the tiniest moments. Also, usually characters who are as sneaky as she is towards the other regulars come off as villains. That’s not how Liz comes off, and she was literally introduced as Alicia’s biggest rival and reintroduced as someone who made a move against Diane.

Maia invites Lucca out dancing. She’s going to turn it down anyway, but then Colin, Francesca, and NotEli show up and she has a good excuse not to go.

NotEli and Francesca want Colin and Lucca to get their story straight. “Look, we’re not expecting you to be the good little wife or girlfriend. That’s the old playbook. It stopped working in 2016,” NotEli says. Oh for fuck’s sake. You can’t just add the word “little” in there and distract me from the fact you are talking about Alicia.

But this line reminds me of two things that I’ve been thinking about lately. The first is that the Good Wife narrative really isn’t timely anymore. It certainly was in 2008. It even was in 2011 when I started watching. But now? Who cares? A dude abuses his office, and now, I think, the media is more likely to wonder about what woman is going to run for his seat than about whether or not his wife will stand by his side. Well, either that happens or absolutely nothing happens and millions of people think it’s perfectly okay to have a president who makes comments about “grabbing women by the pussy.” Either way: it’s not the narrative that fascinates people (or the media) today. And if you’re not caught in the middle of a scandal? It’s even less essential. “Family values” haven’t totally disappeared from politics by any means, but this isn’t 2008.

The other thing this line reminds me of is that, well, I fucking miss Alicia Florrick. It may be accurate to say that “the good little wife” is the old playbook. It’s been on the way out for a while now, so it’s only semi-accurate to say it stopped working in 2016. It is, however, accurate to say that The Good Wife ended in 2016. I like the idea of revisiting these themes, in a very different world, with a very different character. What I don’t like as much is that every time I see Lucca get pulled into situations that very, very few people would understand, I can’t help but want her to call up her close friend who’s lived through it. There are very few other moments when I long for Alicia to be on this show. And I still don’t, really, want her to make a guest appearance. But I want Lucca to have a friend. I want Lucca to have that friendship. And I can’t believe that Lucca and Alicia had a falling out, off screen, big enough that Lucca wouldn’t have reached out to Alicia for advice. If they’re not going to give me Alicia, can they at least stop teasing me?

(“Good little wife”? TEASE.)

Anyway I love how blunt Lucca is. For some reason, NotEli believes Lucca and Colin will be asked where their child was conceived, and he also believes this is a question they should answer. Colin starts to answer, saying things got intense when they were on opposite sides. Lucca jumps in and bluntly says, “So we worked through all that tension by fucking in the courthouse restroom.”

NotEli and Francesca stare at her and Francesca laughs, thinking (hoping) Lucca’s joking. But she’s not done. “It was a family restroom, so we locked the door,” she adds. NotEli says maybe they’ll have to massage this a little. Or you could, like, not talk about where you fucked?

And then the toy dog starts to sing, because of course. (It’s less effective this time.)

Now we’re at the club with Marissa and Maia. Maia’s theme song is playing. Seriously, just read these lyrics: “I clock out my 9:00 to 5:00. I’m ready for the weekend to bring me back to life. Don’t live to work, I work to live.” See?! It’s Maia’s song! Working normal hours (in a profession notorious for requiring long hours) and viewing a job as a chore and not something she’s passionate about!

MAIA IS SO AWKWARD, BUT SHE IS ALSO SO COMMITTED TO ACTUALLY TRYING TO DANCE.

(As you might expect, Marissa is not at all awkward.)

Carine appears at the bar when Maia goes to get a drink! They start talking about their fathers until Maia’s like, “Do you really want to talk about this?” and Carine says no. And then Maia says she wants to dance, so they start dancing. And they get pretty into it.

A little later in the evening, Maia and Marissa talk at a table. Marissa has her arm around Maia. “Am I boring?” Maia asks. You want me to answer that, Maia? You are, and it’s not because you have a stable relationship. I actually find that interesting. ANYWAY. In the world of the show, Maia is worried she’s boring because she’s in a long-term relationship.

Marissa calls Maia a “fucking ninja.”

“I feel like I’m cheating,” Maia worries. “You’re dancing. Or do you mean with me? Because I’m ready for anything,” Marissa responds. Is Marissa saying she’s bi? Or is she joking? Or just drunk? I feel like we may see more on this front. But maybe not.

Oh my God. I have accidentally paused the screen on the most awful drunk!Maia face and I’m not going to post it because I’m not cruel.

“What do you want?” Marissa asks. “I don’t know. Sometimes I want stability. Sometimes I don’t,” Maia answers. Hmmm. Much as I would love to see Maia in a committed relationship, what I would love even more is an arc where Maia, whose life had been very stable up until the scandal, realize that actually, maybe she doesn’t need to follow the easiest, most stable path. Maybe she’d rather be single, or with someone else, at this stage in her life. Wanting stability is a very Alicia thing. It doesn’t have to be a Maia thing, too.

(Nope, I will not turn this into a backdoor way to talk about Alicia and her priorities. I am tempted, but I will resist the temptation.)

Marissa just asks Maia wants right now and Maia says, “That’s the question.” Marissa tells her to go dance, but Maia decides to leave instead.

Maia also tells Marissa that Drew is “great.” I am on Amy’s side here…

Carine finds Maia outside and starts to say goodbye when… Maia kisses her. In the middle of the street. Carine kisses her back. And then they get in an Uber together and make out. Nice, Maia.

I don’t have strong feelings on Maia cheating, mostly because I am not sure I consider her a cheater for this. This behavior—and the behavior we’ll get to in a minute—is cheating. But… she’s cheating on someone she’s had doubts about, someone she barely wants to spend time with, someone who testified against her in court (??), and someone we’ve barely gotten to know. That’s not to say that cheating is justified if that’s the case. It’s not. My point is that I don’t know what Maia’s going to do next. If what she does next involves keeping this from Amy and acting like everything is normal, then yes, she is a cheater and ughhhhhh, Maia. But if this is really the final straw/a wake-up call that causes her to either work through her issues with Amy (including actually telling her she cheated) or break up with her, then it feels like less of a betrayal to me. I don’t know where I’m going with this. Moving on. I am sure I will have more thoughts, hopefully clearer and more fully formed ones, once the next episode (that addresses this plotline) airs.

Carine gets called into work, where she falls on the ground because she is drunk. They have to leave, but she wants to stay a few more days!

Ruth tells the name partners the DNC’s decision: they’re hiring a team of lawyers from various firms, and they just want Liz. “Like the Avengers,” Diane observes. Yes, you read that right. Diane made that observation. Diane Lockhart.

Adrian calls Liz “Wonder Woman” and Ruth corrects him that “That’s the Justice League.” Hee. Look at Diane and Ruth, knowing their superheroes better than I do! (Though I actually understood both of those references.)

Will Liz actually take the offer? I’m unsure. I don’t want anything that means less Liz, so I’m hoping either she doesn’t take it or she does but it doesn’t reduce her screentime.

Ruth tells her assistant to turn off the DNC cameras. But he can’t, because Maia and Carine are busy having sex, on camera, in the office. You’re such a good employee, Maia.

Carine would know about the cameras, but I don’t think this is a set-up (I think she’s just drunk, though wouldn’t be shocked if it was a set-up). Maia wouldn’t know about the cameras, but for fuck’s sake, Maia, do you think you’re supposed to be having sex at the office? Oh, you know what? It’s Maia. She probably thinks that’s what offices are for.

(I so badly want to end my recap there, but also, this Trump impeachment Schoolhouse Rock style song is A++++++ and I’m not sure why it exists but I’m glad it does. It’s also by the same guy (Jonathan Coulson) who did all the BrainDead recap songs (if you did not watch BrainDead, you should) so I’m a very happy fan.)

(Omg, and the slow instrumental “If You’re Happy and You Know It” over the credits is great.)

#The Good Fight #TGFThoughts

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alphacrone · 7 years

Text

zimbits hospital meetcute au?

CW: hospitals, IVs, medication, minor talk of health issues (Crohn’s, pneumonia, infections). No death or super serious/life-threatening health issues.

Jack wasn't close to his maternal grandfather, but that didn't stop him from visiting him in the hospital every day.

Though Grandpa Lou wasn't on death’s doorstep, he wasn't well and it was summer, so what else was he going to do with his time?

Unfortunately, all Grandpa seemed to do when he visited was sleep. Jack supposed there wasn't much else to do in a hospital. So when Grandpa dozed off, Jack would often grab a cup of shitty coffee from the waiting room and wander the halls, staring at the generic art on the walls and wonder if he would be a bad grandson if he just went home.

About a week after Grandpa was admitted, Jack found himself wandering the halls yet again, smiling politely at the nurses as he passed by their station. His tongue felt rough and dry from where he’d burnt it on his coffee, and he was just about to resign himself to sitting in Grandpa’s room and browsing random Wikipedia articles on his phone when a bright voice cried out.

“Please, Amanda, please. It’s Wednesday, I always have a video up on Wednesdays. I need to bake something!”

A young man dressed in a hospital gown and gray sweatpants stood near the kitchenette where nurses kept their stores of Jell-O and broth. Though his pallor was sickly, he had large, warm eyes that tugged at something in Jack’s gut. A nurse stood next to the man, hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” she said, kind but stern. “One, there’s nothing in here but a fridge, a kettle, and a microwave, so you’d have a hell of a time baking and two, you really shouldn’t be walking around without an aid just yet. You’re not a fall risk, but you were only admitted yesterday. Let me take you back to your room.”

The man -- Eric -- pouted. “But it’s boring in there. And my legs were cramping.”

Nurse Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Because you unhooked your leg compressors.”

Eric didn’t waver. “Because they sound like Darth Vader breathing. I couldn’t sleep!”

“C’mon, Eric,” she said, sounding tired. “You need to rest.”

“But my legs,” Eric said, voice pitching close to a whine. By that point, Jack was nearing uncomfortably close to them, and while he wanted to hear more of Eric’s honey-sweet southern twang, it would soon be obvious he was eavesdropping. So, instead of just walking away and thinking about brown eyes and handsome boys for the rest of the day, he stopped and turned to them.

“I can walk with him- with you,” Jack said, first addressing Amanda, then Eric. “If he- you need someone to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Eric said, not unkindly. At Amanda’s glance, he conceded, “But it might be a good idea, in case I pass out. Thank you.”

Amanda smiled at him; she’d been attending to Grandpa for the past two days, and they’d chatted every time she stopped by to take vitals and administer medication. “Alright, but not too long. Your magnesium levels are still low. When’s your next window for Norco?”

“In an hour,” Eric said quickly. “And I will need that as soon as possible, thank you, ma’am. It’s all hurting pretty bad right now.”

“Okay, I’ll try to get that for you as soon as I can,” Amanda said as her radio crackled. A garbled voice came through, and though Jack couldn’t understand a word, Amanda seemed to take directives from whatever was said. “One more lap, then back to bed,” she said, pointing at Eric.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said easily, grinning as she left. “I’m Eric, by the way,” he said, holding out a shaky hand. Jack shook it, marvelling at how calloused Eric’s fingers were.

“Jack,” he said.

“Jack,” Eric repeated, as if testing the taste of it on his tongue. “What’s a healthy-looking gentleman like yourself doing here? Surely you didn’t come for the amazing coffee,” he teased, nodding at Jack’s cup. His IV machine clicked loudly, and the wheels squeaked a little as he rolled it slowly and clumsily down the hall.

“My grandpa is sick; we think it’s pneumonia.” He shrugged. “It’s not life-threatening, they don’t think, but I live close by and it’d be irresponsible not to come by and meet with the doctors every day.” Jack paused, looking down at Eric. “No one ever tells you how boring hospitals are, though.” Eric laughed, the grunted in pain. “Ain’t that the truth. I haven’t been here 24 hours and I’m bored senseless. I guess that’s a step up from the utter agony I was in last night, but it’d be easier if I could just bake something. Surely some of the people on this floor could eat pie if I made it. I just need a kitchen…”

“You’re a baker?” Jack asked, taking ahold of Eric’s IV pole to help him better navigate.

Eric smiled at him gratefully. “Yeah. I run a YouTube channel, baking tips and whatnot. And I need to get a video up to my viewers, but I don’t want to disappoint them with some lame two-minute spiel from a hospital bed on why there’s no recipe this week.”

This startled a laugh out of Jack. “You know, you won’t heal if you overexert yourself like this,” he said, helping Eric turned the IV pole around as they hit a dead end. “Do you know what you’re in here for?”

“No,” Eric said glumly. “The E.R. doc said she thought it was Crohn’s, but the Internist thinks it might be an infection. Either way, I can’t digest food anymore and it feels like there’s a huge knife shoved into my abdomen, which is not ideal for someone who creates recipes for a living.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, unsure of how else to react. “That...sucks.”

Eric snorted, elbowing Jack in the ribs. “That’s an understatement. Ugh-” He stopped suddenly, clutching at his gut. “Ow-ow-ow-ow- Yeah, Amanda was right. Can you help me back to my room?”

This was how Jack ended up walking between the IV and Eric, holding the pole in one hand and Eric’s hand in the other. They moved slowly and carefully down the hallway as to not jostle Eric too harshly, and eventually they made it to a small room. Jack helped Eric lie back against his pillows, face drained of what little color it had.

“Thanks,” he muttered, frowning deeply. “Once I get my Norco I’ll be able to sleep, I think. Ugh, I hate this. I hate all of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said again. “Can I...can I get you anything?”

Eric gave him a small, rueful smile. “An oven?”

Jack laughed and patted the man’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do. How about some ice chips?”

Eric nodded excitedly, and Jack left in search of the ice machine. By the time he got back, Eric was fast asleep. He left the cup on the rolling table by the bed and snuck away, a plan hatching in the back of his mind.

Jack arrived at the hospital the next day to a healthier-looking grandfather and an incredibly grumpy Eric. He told Jack that his mother was on her way to Boston, but all his friends were out of town for the summer and things were getting lonely in the hospital.

“Would it help if you could bake?” Jack asked, reaching down for the large bag he’d brought with him.

Eric shrugged and readjusted the blankets piled on top of him. “Yeah, probably. I always bake when I feel bad. It never fails to make me happy.”

Biting back a grin, Jack pulled the poorly-wrapped box from the bag and set it on Eric’s lap. Stunned, Eric stared at it for a moment before tearing off the paper with the frenzy of a child on Christmas. When he saw the label on the box, he howled with laughter, weakly slapping at his knee.

“An Easy Bake Oven?” Eric practically shouted. “Jack, this is too much. You’re too much!”

Jack wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, so he asked, “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Eric held a hand over his heart. “I love it. Oh, you have to help me set it up! This is gonna be the best video ever, thank you!”

Jack felt himself grinning wider than he had in a long, long time. His cheeks ached with it, but nothing could compare to the ache in his heart as his eyes skimmed over the dimples in Eric’s cheeks, the light dancing in his eyes.

“You know, you’ll have to eat everything I make,” Eric said, pulling Jack from his thoughts. “I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything yet.”

“Well, of course,” Jack said. “You’re the baker. I’m the taster. I eat a lot,” he added, feeling a bit silly. But the kindness in Eric’s smile made him feel bold, open about himself in a way he rarely could be.

“Oh, well,” Eric said, cheeks turning a pretty, healthy shade of pink. “Then you and I? We’re gonna get along real well.”

[My writing tag]

[My online novel, The Discourt Knife]

#check please!#anna writes things #omgcp fic #zimbits #zimbits fanfiction #au #hospital au #pre-relationship

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