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#so like sorry if you were expecting the usual Extreme Sarcasm hours and also a piece that was less fuckin nuts
larkral · 1 year
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Rules: Answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people.
Tagged by...uh, kind of a lot of people (@asocialpessimist @artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @raenestee @stitchyqueer @cutestkilla), been on a work deadline and enjoying learning more about everyone, but also exceedingly tapped out.
1. Are you named after anyone? Nope! I am especially notably not named after my second cousin who was born right before my elder sister and received the name my mother was planning on giving my sister, which she then decided to save for me.
2. When was the last time you cried? I've been doing a lot more just sitting in sad silence than crying lately, so probably like...last Saturday? No special reason, just 'cause I was in my feels.
3. Do you have kids? Two little adorable gremlin children, yes.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yeah, yep. Yes.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people? If observing objectively, I probably notice the general shape of their face. Planes and structure and arrangement of features. If it's in an interactive context, I usually pick up on what their expectations of the interaction are -- do they want something from me, are they expecting to provide me something, etc.
6. What's your eye color? Blue.
7. Scary movies or happy ending? Is neither an option? Neither. Give me befuddling comedy horror or give me I guess like an architecture documentary.
8. Any special talents? I think probably my most valuable talent is being willing to just figure out how to do the thing. And then doing it. Building a retaining wall, tiling a bathroom, making a bouquet of paper flowers, yeah, I'm gonna make it happen if I want to make it happen. I'm also going to join the group of folks who are saying that their secret talent is signing, cause I do surprise people at karaoke. ;-)
9. Where were you born? In the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. At around one mile elevation above sea level.
10. What are your hobbies? Writing, sewing, knitting,
11. Do you have any pets? An adorable tiny toy poodle mutt who everyone thinks is a puppy. She's 7y/o.
12. What sports have you played? I played flat track women's Roller Derby for 5 years, and I was pretty fucking good at it, but also it was a thing I started doing in large part because I wanted to make friends, and I ended up with 0 roller derby friends, and spending ten hours a week on a pastime where everyone there is like, so-so on me was not a good vibe. I'd love to play again someday, but it might not be in the cards.
13. How tall are you? 5'8.
14. Favorite subject at school? Art. I always really enjoyed getting lost in the process of making art.
15. Dream job? Renaissance person. I'd like to just be able to do an extremely wide variety of things both physical and cerebral.
tagging @captain-aralias @facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @petedavidsonscock @yeonjunenby @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @fatalfangirl and I, like some others, did not have the energy to check whether you'd already done this, so I'm sorry if this is a redundant tag 😘
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brutal-nemesis · 3 years
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Spiral Day 2021: Cycle(-stys) of Yikes
Waddup y’all out how’s spinning out going? Good, good, love to hear it. Hey does anyone want to watch me break Castys? It’ll be funny I swear ヽ(✿゚▽゚)ノ In reality it’s INCREDIBLY messed up so please heed the warnings shit gets dark But uh yeah for context this is when he’s stuck in the lab ✨
Castys Masterlist
Ingredients: lab whump, dehumanization, muzzle, organ harvesting and noncon surgery referenced, the boy goes nuts, starvation, dehydration, implied self-harm, implied autocannibalism 
Castys thought endless torment would be a little more exciting. 
Not that he’d expected it to be fun, but it was just...boring. Every damn day was the same. They’d drag him out of his cell to the same room, strap him to the same table, cut him open with the same knives and take out the same organs. Well, no, the organs they took varied by the day. But he only had so many different ones, so at some point he’d experienced it all before. The tests had a horrifically wide variety to them, but the common theme seemed to be Painful and Terrible and 0/10 Would Not Recommend. 
He’d fantasize about being back on his ship often to distract himself from everything. He’d imagine the sound of the waves, the feel of the spray in the wind, the smell of salt, his crew by his side...the thought of them made him happy and sad at the same time. He missed them all so much (except for Harris, he was a bitch), but the fact that he was here meant they were all safe and happy. Yeah, that was why he was stuck in this stupid place, those darned mortals and their tiny lifespans that he just had to get all sympathetic about and give himself up to these psychos so they didn’t spend the rest of their little lives in misery. Instead, he was going to spend the rest of his much longer life stuck in-no, he was going to get out...somehow.
But how? He didn’t have anything to pick the locks with. He was constantly restrained, either strapped to a table or chair in the lab or being manhandled from one room to the next by people who were ridiculously stronger than him. He’d tried to rush past the guards when they came to get him from his cell, but they’d caught him and chained his ankles together, making it nearly impossible for him to even walk. The short chain connecting his ankles and the muzzle they’d strapped to his face a couple weeks in were never taken off, just permanent additions to what it was like to be Castys. And if they took the muzzle off, it was just so they could mess with his mouth, and it went right back on afterwards, because why give food and water to someone who can’t stay dead?
So it went. Castys started to forget what it was like to walk normally, to speak with other people, what it felt like to eat, to be touched in a way that didn’t hurt, to be treated like a person. There was only the cycle of wake up, get dragged out, get sliced open, get poked and prodded and stabbed and studied, get dragged back, fall asleep and pray that tomorrow would be a little better, or even a little different. He could vaguely keep track of time by how blood-crusted his skin was, a way to tell how long it had been since the last time they’d hosed him down and chopped off his hair. The ship he dreamed of never went anywhere anymore, it was stuck, like him, because there was only here, wasn’t there? Everything else was just a delusion. The boy had always been in a cage, the ship had always been in a bottle. The square of the sky he could see out the window was there to trick him into thinking there was something else out there, but he knew there wasn’t. There was only here, and there was only the cycle.
The cycle, though, began to change, so slowly as to almost be imperceptible from one day to the next. Tests were a little shorter. Less organs were taken. They left him alone for a minute more. He hardly noticed it was happening until one day...they didn’t come for him at all. At first he was alright with it, he preferred the loneliness and the quiet to the table and the pain. But not dying at their hands every day meant the condition of his body wasn’t being reset constantly. Soon enough, hunger and thirst began to claw at him. Even if he had something to eat or drink, that muzzle was still stuck to his face, no matter how much he fiddled with it. Or maybe that was just a part of him, maybe he didn’t have a mouth, and this was just his face.
Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-
Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.
The tears, at least, moistened his dry tongue.
He drew lines. Some were faint, and some were vivid. The vivid ones were good, they were brilliantly red, they tasted so sweet, they pulsed and burned like stars. He drew so, so many, and every one was new and different and brilliant. Little cracks in the never ending cycle of monotonous agony. They let him feel for a moment like his thirst was quenched. The cracks widened, chunks broke off the sides, and then that constant feeling of hunger went away, too.
And so it went, drawing and sucking and biting and chewing in an attempt to satiate those cravings, but it was never enough, never enough, and he would wake up to unbroken skin, and the cycle could start all over again. Maybe he could have counted somehow, how many times it happened, but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t an end to count down to, there was just wake up and hurt and drink and scream just to hear something and wait for death so we can start again just wait just wait it’s coming the ship is sinking in the little bottle but it always comes back up please just let me rest just let me go I can’t do this again I can’t I can’t-
There was a new sound. A creak. Footsteps. They came back, old memories of something outside the cycle. There was someone-or was it something-standing on the other side of the bars. Its eyes were so white and empty, a color he hadn’t seen in so long that he couldn’t help but stare. It stared back, eyes narrowing and then widening.
“Castys?” He cocked his head. That sound, that word, it meant something, right? It did, it did, he was sure it did, but...what was it? And what...who was that? The more he looked, the more he was sure that there was something familiar about that silhouette. It was...distinct. Unmistakable. Unique. He didn’t remember who it belonged to, just that he recognized it. It was a someone, yes, yes, not an it, not-an-it-or-I’ll-tear-your-throat-out. So when they opened the door to his cell, when they came in, when they smiled at him, fangs flashing in the dim light, he wasn’t afraid, even if he should have been.
“I finally found you.”
Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101
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rumblelibrary · 3 years
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I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.
Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.
I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.
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Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]
Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity
He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.
He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.
Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.
Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.
The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.
But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?
Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?
Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.
Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.
So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.
He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.
He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.
He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.
His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.
The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.
He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.
His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.
He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.
Did she sense his discomfort? 
“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.
“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”
Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.
“No, I was thinking of you”
“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”
“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”
“I just called you for the bills”
“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”
She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”
“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”
“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”
She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.
He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.
He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.
She was right.
What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.
A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.
He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.
Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.
Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.
But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.
For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.
And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .
He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.
He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.
He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.
He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.
The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.
“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”
He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.
When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.
He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.
His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”
He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”
“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.
He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.
“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.
He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.
You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.
“Is that poison?”
“Rat poison” he corrected you.
You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.
“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.
He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.
He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.
“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”
He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.
Just say yes.
“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.
Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.
"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.
You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.
"Talk to me"
He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.
So weak, so helpless like a lost child.
"I can't help you if you don't talk"
Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.
"You can't help me"
"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"
He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.
"No, it is not important if I write or not"
You frowned at that comment.
"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"
He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"
Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.
When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.
His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.
"Is it Elke?"
"No, she was just right"
"About what?"
He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.
"About me"
"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."
"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"
His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.
"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"
He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"
"No"
It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.
"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"
"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"
"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"
"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”
"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"
He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.
You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.
"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"
He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.
"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"
He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.
"So you agree?"
 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"
"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured
"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"
He chuckled at that comment.
"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”
He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.
"You find me attractive?"
"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked
"I mean it"
You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"
He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.
"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"
You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"
You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.
"Tell me"
"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"
He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.
And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.
"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.
You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.
You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.
He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.
"Seb, you..."
"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.
You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.
Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.
"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”
He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”
He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.
You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 
Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.
Just like you.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty
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youngbloodlisk · 3 years
Text
Two Dresses // Ten
- Ten in a maid outfit
- female reader, also in a dress (hence the name)
- dom/sub themes
- a bit of sub ten but more dom ten
- oral, male rec
- mirror sex
- some hair pulling
- pull-out method (be smarter than a fanfiction and practice safe sex plz)
- some aftercare
@kxnkxmoon 😚
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"Hey... is it too late to maybe... change our group costume plan?"
"Nooooo..." Sarcasm laces my roommate's voice "No, Halloween is just two days away and all of us have our costumes already except who? You."
"I'm sorry! It's surprisingly hard to find a maid costume. With maid costumes being trendy all of a sudden, they're sold out everywhere."
"Check a resale sight. Surely someone is trying to get rid of one... Oh, and filter by local pickup! You don't have time for shipping anymore."
"Fine..."
After a few hours of on-and-off searching through different sites, it's a page reload around 5pm that I finally find a listing.
Posted one hour ago, cheap, pickup in my area... but horrible photos. Bad angles, bad lighting, you can barely tell what the damn thing is. No description either. If the title didn't say "Maid Costume with Garters and Collar (Good Condition)", I wouldn't know that it was exactly what I was looking for.
But, that being said... it is exactly what I'm looking for... and it's here and available.
I message the seller to ease my nerves about the product before buying it.
"hey, do you have any other photos of the maid outfit?"
It's around thirty minutes later before I get a response from Mr. 1_0LeeCha.
"i can take some but i won't be home until tomorrow. work until late and im staying at a friend's house tonight to help him with something. i have a few from when i wore it at a work Halloween party last year that i can send in the meantime?"
"that would be awesome, thanks"
"sure one sec"
I wait a few minutes as the three typing dots remain on the screen, telling me that he's scrolling through his photos to send one.
My phone vibrates and I look back at my screen to see... something I did not expect to see.
A slender, fit body in a loose maid dress. The boy is on his knees in front of a mirror with his legs spread apart. The dress is pulled up to fully reveal the black lace garters on his thighs. The hand that isn't holding a phone is holding his dick through the fabric of the dress skirt. His face isn't visible in the photo, but his neck is stretched to the left to show off the black choker.
"OH NO no no no no no i'm so sorry i did not mean to send that one"
"lol it's okay, mistakes happen. to be fair it's still a pretty good photo of the dress. btw is that a wayv album behind you?? signed?? my roommate is a fan lol how did you get that?"
"it's a long story. im kinda close with Ten."
"my roommate says that's cool lol"
"haha yeah i guess. do you want the costume or do you still need more pics of it?"
"are the other pics gonna look like that one?"
"no!! fuck no i swear i wouldn't do that to you on purpose lol. btw i deep cleaned it after i took those photos dw"
"lol no worries i was just playing. i'll take it. pickup and pay in cash tomorrow?"
He agrees and sends me the address, telling me that any time works for him as it's his day off.
I get off work around 5pm the next day and set off straight from the diner towards his address, having no need to go home first.
It's a chilly, but thankfully short, walk in my classic blue waitress uniform.
I check the address about five times before I knock on the door, to make sure I don't show up at the wrong person's door asking for a maid costume...
That would be less than ideal.
I hear someone say, "No, no! I've got it! It's for me!" behind the door before it swings open.
"Hi! Maid costume?" The slender boy, with a body I recognize a bit too well now, cocks an eyebrow.
"That's me."
"You must be freezing out here. Come on in, it's up in my room. You can just follow me."
I nod and comply, following him inside. He closes the door and leads me down the hall to the correct room.
I recognize the dresser and window from the photo, as well as the angle of the mirror leaning against the wall by his door.
He notices the way I lightly chuckle upon recognizing the scene.
"Uh- yeah..." He laughs nervously, picking up the bag with the costume in it. "That's... embarrassing..."
"Why were you taking them anyway? Personal enjoyment?"
"Uh... long story... Listen, I'm really sorry about that-"
"I'm not."
His breath hitches and he hesitates to respond, seemingly wondering if I really just said what he thinks he heard.
"H-Huh?"
"I'm not sorry you sent it. It was pretty... and pretty hot." I take the bag out of his hand.
"Oh, really?" His head cocks to the side, his confidence returning.
Suddenly, it feels as if you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
"Really. I wouldn't have minded if you HAD sent more, in fact."
"Oh? You liked it? You liked seeing me in that costume?" He boldly locks his hands behind my neck.
"I did..." I take the dress out of the bag, dropping the bag to the floor. I straighten the dress and hold it up to his body. "Do you wanna wear it one last time before saying goodbye to it? For me?"
He leans in, only an inch away from my face.
"You're still gonna buy it when we're done with whatever we're about to do, right?"
"Does it really matter?" I meet his lips for a moment.
When I pull away, he takes the dress out of my hands. He reaches down to pick up the bag which still holds the garters and choker, presses a finger to his lips playfully, and disappears into the connected bathroom.
I look around the room while I wait.
This guy has a lot more WayV albums, as well as NCT albums, all of which I recognize from my roommate's shelf.
He has a lot of books that look worn. No telling if he reads a lot or if he just bought them used...
I spot a framed photo on one of the dressers. It looks to be him and his friends (all male) in princess/similar costumes. All of them are smiling or making a funny face.
The guy I recognize looks to be in an Alice in Wonderland costume, which makes me wonder where that costume could be.
The bathroom door opens, calling my attention and making me turn around.
There he is, in that maid dress, leaning against the doorframe. He tosses the clothes he was previously wearing into the corner of the room.
I can't help but notice the orange and gray striped underwear in the pile of clothes.
"You look even prettier in person, especially now that I can see your face. I didn't expect a boy so pretty."
"Well I didn't expect you to be so pretty either... much less wearing a 50's diner waitress outfit. That's for work, right? Or did you get all dressed up to come see me?" He playfully saunters over to me and places his hands behind my neck again, in the same way they were before he changed clothes.
"Cute. And what do you do for a living?"
"Long story." He begins to close the gap between us again.
"You seem to be full of those."
"Maybe I'll explain them all next time."
"Are you implying you already want there to be a next time? We haven't even done anything yet, tiger. Are you really that needy?"
"Are you gonna keep running your mouth or are you gonna kiss me?"
Instead of responding either way, I grab his waist and turn us both around. I push him gently, but hard enough to make him fall back onto his bed.
I quickly crawl on top of him, hungrily attaching my lips to his and straddling him.
His hands run up my thighs and under my dress, resting on my hips.
Things escalate quickly as he presses his hips up, the maid skirt falling to expose his hardening cock, and he grinds against my underwear.
"So desperate, aren't you?" I quickly comment before returning to his lips.
He hums as an agreeing response.
I grind down onto him to create more friction which causes him to moan into my mouth.
I move from his lips to his jaw and slowly down his neck to his collarbone, all while still grinding roughly against his hard dick.
Soft moans leave the boy and his breathing gets progressively faster.
His shaking hand starts tugging my underwear down, and I stop and sit up to take them off for him.
Once the blue underwear are tossed into the corner with his clothes, I resume my previous action of grinding into him. This time, however, his cock is running through my folds, making me moan.
"Oh, it feels so... so good..." He chokes out, breathlessly, grabbing onto the sheets with both hands. "Please..."
He begins to rapidly buck his hips up, matching my grinding perfectly, until his body begins to shudder and his movements become jerky.
"I'm c-cl- I'm gonna-"
"Cum for me, sweetheart." I brush his hair out of his eyes, which gloss over as a sticky substance covers our respective dresses.
He catches his breath for a moment, but his energy returns fairly quickly. Good stamina, I assume.
I slow my movement on him, but continue to seek the friction his shaft was giving me, until he firmly grasps my hips and holds me still.
I can usually keep my cool, but this action definitely shocks me... especially when I look into his dark eyes.
"And w-what do you think you're doing?"
"I sub for my own benefit, not yours."
"That's actually not very subby of you."
"Your voice is shaking. That's actually not very dominant of you... but it makes sense. Did you think telling me to put on a maid costume meant you were gonna take full control?" He scoffs, swiftly flipping us over and pinning me under him. His bare knee slides between my thighs, pushing against my wet pussy, and he holds my wrists against the mattress on either side of my head. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers... "You're dreaming, honey."
His knee slowly rubs against me and I can feel the garter which is falling down his leg.
The lace brushes my clit as he moves, sending a shiver down my back.
He doesn't let me enjoy it for very long, however.
He gets off of me and stands up, telling me to get up as well.
I stand slightly confused, and extremely sexually frustrated, next to the bed as I watch him pull his white desk into the center of the room.
He pulls off the falling garter, and starts to take off the other one until I quickly tell him to stop.
I bend down on my knees in front of him and carefully take the lace between my teeth.
Looking up at him, he's practically drooling watching me slowly drag the garter down his leg with my teeth.
Once it reaches his ankle, I let go and he kicks it off to the side.
Before he can even speak, I lift up his dress and wrap my lips around his tip. His knees buckle for a moment at the sudden sensation.
He leans back, grabbing onto the edge of the desk behind him for support.
I take as much of him in my mouth as I can, almost on the verge of gagging, and try to handle the last part with my hand.
I can tell he's trying to resist the urge to grab me and fuck my mouth, so I try to make it worth it with the way I suck and lick and stroke him.
When I look up at him with innocent eyes, he shudders and pulls me off of him, also pulling me to my feet in the process.
"If you keep that up, I'll cum again... and I'm not cumming again unless it's because of your wet little pussy. So, bend over the desk."
As I follow his instruction, I realize what he did.
He placed the desk in front of the mirror. The same mirror from the photo which started all of this.
He positions himself behind me, flipping my skirt up and running a slender finger over my pussy.
"So wet..." He sticks that finger in his mouth and licks it clean. "And so delicious too."
He runs his finger through my folds a few more times and sucks them clean as he lines up and pushes into me.
The stretch burns in the best way possible.
I grip the edge of the table as he starts to rock his hips.
My back arches and my eyes shut tightly, but he tells to look in the mirror.
The way the mirror is angled, I'm able to see under the table and watch him fuck me. I watch him disappear inside of me and come back out, which only makes me realize more just how big he is and how deep he's reaching.
He places one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder before he picks up his pace and starts to fuck me harder and faster.
I can't hold back my moans, feeling him so deep and watching it all happen in that mirror.
I notice his cocky smile.
He removes his hand from my shoulder and reaches down to rub my clit, causing my legs to start shaking. My orgasm starts to approach.
"Look at you..." He smirks at me, locking eyes with me in the mirror. "So pretty and getting ruined by a boy in a maid dress. I'm sure you expected this to go differently, didn't you?"
I let out a loud guttural moan and avert my eyes to the desk right under me, my head facing down.
"Baby, I can feel you clenching. Are you getting close?"
I shakily nod my head and feel his hand leave my clit for a moment as he takes a hold of hair at the root and pulls my head up to look at the mirror again.
"Watch it. Watch yourself cum all over my pretty cock."
He lets go of my hair, clearly expecting me to remain looking in the mirror, and he starts playing with my clit again.
My toes curl and I have a hard time keeping my head up as my orgasm finally rushes through my body. I clench around his dick and he helps me ride out my high before pulling out and jerking himself until he cums on the back of my uniform.
I feel almost limp as I lay across the table. My eyes are heavy, so I simply close them. I can't see anything that happens, but I can hear and feel that he goes to the bathroom and brings back a towel to wipe the cum off my clothes.
"Can you stand?" He asks gently.
I can, and better with someone to lean on, but my legs are a little shaky.
He uses the dampened part of the towel he got to wipe at the cum on the front of my clothes, before carefully having me sit on the edge of the bed.
He helps me pull the dress off of my sweaty body, tossing it to the pile of clothes.
"Wait here." He instructs, going into his closet.
He comes back with some comfortable looking sweats and hands them to me to wear.
I slowly dress myself and watch as he quickly changes his own clothes and then takes all the soiled clothes in his arms and leaves the room.
When he returns, the clothes in his hands have been replaced with a few bottles of water.
"Here, hydrate." He smiles, handing me one of the bottles. "I tossed the clothes in the wash. I hope you can stay for a bit, but if you can't then I can come bring you your clothes once they're dry-"
I don't miss the shining glint in his eye when I cut him off with:
"No, it's okay. I can stay for a while."
We both chug a couple bottles of water each before cuddling up in his bed to talk... which quickly turns into napping.
I wake up to a darker window than when I fell asleep, and I carefully pull myself away from the man to check the clock on the nightstand.
9:00PM.
I've been here for almost four hours, and asleep for almost three of them.
Quickly, a lot of thoughts come to mind.
One of us needs to put our clothes in the dryer.
I need to go home, I can't stay the night here.
Should I wake him?
As I watch his sleeping face, calmly breathing and mouth slightly open, I can't help but smile at how adorable he looks.
Before we cuddled up together, I placed my phone on the nightstand. I slowly and quietly pick it up, opening the camera and snapping a little photo of him.
I'll ask him when he wakes up if it's okay for me to keep it.
I brush a tuft of hair out of his face, which makes me remember when I did that same thing a few hours ago.
I feel my face heat up as I think back to what we did...
Around a half hour later, he's rudely woken up by his phone ringing.
Sleepily, he answers the call from a phone contact named "YangX2".
"What do you want?... Well, now I am... I don't know, uh-" He turns to me. "Are you planning to stay over?"
I shake my head, trying to be as polite as I can.
"She isn't... Yeah, I know... Obviously... Oh, thanks dude... Hey, that's mine!... I don't care that you found it, it was in my pants... Fine, if you've already spent it then-... Whatever... Yeah, thanks... Bye."
He hangs up and looks at me again.
"Good news and bad news. Good news, YangYang put the clothes in the dryer for us when the washing finished, so they're dry now. Bad news, he found money in my pants and bought him and Xiaojun some snacks at the convenience store."
I laugh with him about his stolen cash, which evolves into an awkward silence.
"Well, um... I should get going. My roommate hates being alone in our apartment at night."
"Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll go get all your clothes for you." He gets up out of the bed and rubs his eyes as he leaves the room.
I make sure I have my phone and my bag, as well as everything that's supposed to be in the bag, while I wait.
Far too soon, he's hugging me goodbye next to the taxi he called for me.
My load is lighter by a couple monetary bills and heavier by a (clean) maid costume.
"Oh! I almost forgot..." I take out my phone and pull up the photo I took of him sleeping. "You just looked so peaceful and cute... is that okay?"
A smile lights up his face, as if somebody taking a photo of him asleep is the cutest thing anyone's ever done in his eyes.
"Yeah, absolutely."
"Good. I'll... I'll see you around..." I trail off, realizing he never even told me his name.
"Yeah, I'll see you around..." He also trails off, probably realizing that I never gave him my name either.
We share a look, however.
A look that says that some things are better left a mystery.
I get in the cab and close the door, giving the driver the address of an apartment building just a couple blocks from where I actually live.
The moment I open the door to my apartment, I'm attacked.
"Where did you go? What happened? Are you okay? I thought you just had work until 5 and then picking up the costume. So, why didn't you get home until 10pm?!"
I explain everything.
Well, not everything of course... but the general things.
"Oh my goodness... was he cute? You said he stans NCT, of course he's cute. Do you have a photo of him?"
"Yeah, actually..." I pull up the adorable sleeping boy on my phone and show her.
Her eyes about pop out.
"TEN?!"
"Huh?"
"That's Ten! That's a member of WayV!"
"Wait- what?"
I suddenly remember what he said when I asked about the signed album in the photo.
"Kinda close with Ten" my ass...
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Note
Please prompt number 2, if you can of course!!! Ah, Bloom says "Kiss me" only if you can.
I am so fucking sorry you had to wait this long. I hope it doesn't happen again, or at least the wait isn't as long. Hope you enjoy.
Damn wizards. Bloom cursed in her head as another pretty powerful beam was aimed directly at her, only narrowly missing her as she managed to side step it, while she struggled to put on a shield. Of course they had to run to Omega, into the coldest and probably the most dangerous dimension there is. Of course, she was immensely grateful they didn't chose some sort of populated area for this battle, but icicles and sharp objects flying from the ceiling of the cave really weren't her idea of an ideal date. They were more in the realm of an ice witch. The thought of Icy made her shudder and loose focus for a brief second.
"Bloom!" Sharp voice echoed through the cave as another spell flew over her head. She barely managed to turn around to face the one that called her before she was pulled to the side, and what she would come to realize only a second later out of the harms way, when a painful groan rung out next to her. She turned towards the figure the floor and nearly threw up when she saw blood on it.
Valtor was laying on the floor, clutching his bleeding arm with an impressive gash on it, and Bloom would've made a joke about him acting like a prince on a white horse if she wasn't so busy trying to hold the content of her stomach there where it belonged. She stood in a stupor for a few seconds but another painful groan snapped her out of it. She dropped down next to Valtor in a crouch as her hands roamed over the injury,as if she wasn't sure what she should do.
"Layla don't!" Stella's shriek made her turn around only to see Layla disappear after the wizards, that she didn't even realize stopped throwing spells at them, deeper into the Omega. Bloom turned back towards Valtor who gripped her arm and gently shoved her away from her as he struggled to stand up. She wanted to ask what the hell is he doing when she noticed Brandon rushing towards them as Morgana held a shield to protect her warrior fairies and specialists.
"Go after them!" Valtor was shouting words at her but his voice seemed muffled, almost as if she was hearing him through a thick fog, compared to the loud noise falling debris made as it collided with the icy floor.
She shook her head negative. "You're hurt! I can fix it! I just need a couple of minutes!" She saw his eyes widen comically as Brandon finally reached them and grabbed Valtor under his good arm and hauled him up. Bloom rose with them, her hand with magic, gathered in the coiled fist, still hovered above his wound.
Valtor shook off Brandon's hands as he leaned closer to Bloom and gripped her forearms. "They need you more than I do! Layla needs you! I'll be alright! Now go give those wizards hell!" When he healized she was still hesitating and that she was about to protest, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to himself as his forhead came to rest against her own, which was an unusual sight because he had to bend down quite a bit despite the fact she was in heels and she tilted her head up towards him as far as it would go.
The tension between the two former enemies was palpable from the moment the portal to Gardinia opened and no one was immune to it. Since the now-on-the-good-side Valtor stepped through the gates of Alfea in an effort to combine forces with fairies to battle one of his acquaintances, Ogron, who apparently rubbed him the wrong way in the past, the sparks flying from both guardians of the dragon flame were hard to ignore. Even Sky seemed to recognize the not so innocent glances the two sent to each other on a daily basis, and therefore letting Bloom go seemed like the only rational option. Bloom was pretty sure there was even a bet going on between the specialists and the Winx girls whose primary focus was the relationship of the two guardians. She heard Stella complaining once, when she thought Bloom wasn't listening, about how she will lock them up in a magic room until they... talked their way through their problems. Mind you, talked was not the term Stella used.
Valtor squeezed Bloom's hips in a bruising grip and the flashbacks seemed to evaporate before her eyes. His sharp features slid back into focus and Bloom opened her mouth to say something but Valtor was slightly faster about it. "There is something I've been meaning to talk to you about! But in order to do that you need to go there," he pointed behind her in the direction wizards of the black circle disappeared, "and win this battle!" She opened her mouth again to finally say something only to realize she had nothing to say. She snapped her mouth shut and nodded. "Go! We'll be fine!" And just like that she broke out of his hold and rushed towards the battle sounds.
Valtor turned around on his heels and this time grabbed still shocked Brandon and pulled him towards the protective dome Morgana struggled to keep up. His arm stung unpleasantly but the bleeding stopped and regeneration already started knitting torn ligaments and tissue together. His commanding voice rung out. "Alright, let's get out of here." No one dared to argue, well almost no one.
"What about the girls, we can't just leave them to fight the wizards alone?" The blonde prince was sending glares in Valtor's way but they weren't as hostile as he expected. Valtor turned his head to look at the place where Bloom dissapeared.
"Layla is their responsibility, and besides, we ourselves are more of a liability than help. "
Sky nodded and Valtor grabbed one of the injured fairies while specialists helped the rest as they made their way out.
Ground shook beneath Valtor's feet as an epic battle raged in the tunnels beneath the ground. Valtor could feel pulses of magic, light and dark beams equally strong, until something seemed to happen and light magic prevailed. Valtor held his breath. Time seemed to stop. Not even a single sound was heard. Seconds passed. Until a familiar beating of wings disrupted the eerie silence and six fairies flew out. Valtor's heart climbed into his throat. The winx seemed to be one fairy short, one fiery fairy short to be precise. Valtor focused on the flame raging in his chest as it searched for it's other half. The pull in his chest seemed to get stronger until it almost bursted from it's place of residence when he saw Bloom flying out with Nebula in tow. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief as cheers of both the Winx and the rest of the fairies rung through the valley.
The Frutti Music bar was overflowing with people. Andy and his band took the stage as Roxy served drinks to the impatient customers and Klaus hurriedly mixed cocktails behind the bar. Everything seemed to return to normal, almost like nothing happened in the first place. That was one of the things Valtor never understood about humans. No matter how big of a trouble they seemed to find themselves in, they never lost hope. His arm almost healed in the few hours but Flora insisted that he should wear a bandage just in case the wound reopened.
His gaze ran over the bar, searching for a group of six fairies, or more precisely, searching for a head full of bright red hair that somehow always managed to stand apart from every environment and every crowd. He found what he was looking for on the other end of the bar and he made his way towards them. As he drew closer he noticed another blob of silver hair that belonged to only one person Valtor knew. An arm grabbed Valtor's biceps and he turned towards the owner.
Brandon handed him a cocktail and Valtor's confusion must've been pretty obvious because Brandon shrugged and said, "I figured you'd want something to drink before you face Faragonda."
Valtor laughed, a deep sound coming somewhere from his stomach, even his shoulders shook with it. "I am unsure just how much it will help me relax, considering the fact I usually indulge in something a bit stronger... but I appreciate the effort."
"I didn't believe Stella when she told me you can be pleasant to be around."
Valtor raised a questioning eyebrow. "What is your opinion now?"
"That I should always believe what my girlfriend says."
Valtor chuckled. "I'd take that with a grain of salt. After all, I can also be really unpleasant."
"Oh we know." He slapped Valtor on his shoulder. "Good luck man. You'll need it." Valtor had a sneaky suspension Brandon wasn't refering to a meeting with a headmistress of Alfea. He looked at the retrieving back of specialist with a smirk on his face. Who knew not all of them were just fools with an inflamed ego and fancy swords.
He shook his head and took a sip of the drink he had in his hand and then grimaced. The cocktail was definitely something that Stella or Flora would prefer. Fruity and sweet. He stepped towards the group he originally intended to meet and managed to catch what Faragonda was saying. "I'm extremely proud of you girls."
"You should be." His booming voice reached them and Faragonda jumped a bit, startled, as seven pairs of eyes turned towards him. "They did defeat the wizards all by themselves." He locked eyes with Bloom who had a smile on her face and Valtor felt his lips twitch upwards.
"Something happened to your arm Valtor?"
"An icicle fell on it. Just don't tell me you're worried about me Faragonda. I'll start thinking you care." Valtor rolled his eyes as sarcasm dripped from every word.
"What a shame it only grazed your arm. I would think that enormous head of yours makes for a convenient target. It's so massive it probably has it's own gravitational pull." Faragonda smirked and it looked surprisingly evil on her.
"Are you sure you're a fairy and not a witch Faragonda? Might wanna erase that smirk from your face unless you want people to start thinking otherwise. " Valtor looked at her with challenge in his eyes as his lips formed in an evil grin that would scare lesser beings but it only managed to irritate Faragonda.
"Touché Valtor."
"Thank you, I try." He handed the fruity cocktail to Stella that tried really hard to resist laughing at the irritated face of her headmistress, but some giggles still escaped, as she held Flora's arm for support. He turned towards Bloom who now had a hand across her mouth so Faragonda wouldn't see her laughing but the adorable wrinkles around her eyes crinkled, a clear sign she was smiling. He made a gesture with his head that indicated she should come with him when she finally finished laughing and looked at him. He heard Stella squeal in excitement as Flora gasped when Solarian princess gripped her arm. Bloom bit her lip and took Valtor's offered hand as he lead them to the beach and away from the crowd. He heard Stella scream about how 'It's finally happening!' And Flora's gentle voice telling her to calm down because 'You're crushing my arm Stella.'
They walked hand in hand through the crowd, some of the guests giving them weird looks, but Valtor's intimidating form seemed to part the said crowd like a Red sea. She stopped at the exit that lead to the beach, Valtor offering his support while she bent down to take off her shoes because she learned that high heels and sand don't really mix that well. She once again took his hand when her bare feet touched the now pleasantly warm and no longer scorching hot sand but she also went step further, something that greatly surprised Valtor, when she intertwined their fingers.
They walked hand in hand for a while, not daring to break a rather pleasant silence. When they were far enough from praying eyes of the people Valtor finally stopped and turned towards the ocean. He was eager to get Bloom alone but now that they actually were alone he started wondering if it was really a good idea. He felt Bloom's eyes drilling a hole at the back of his neck but he patiently waited for her to make the first move and break the ice so to speak.
"So..." her voice broke through and Valtor turned towards her, "you wanted to talk. Well here we are. What did you want to tell me?"
Valtor chuckled bitterly. "I wanted to talk to you about... us. But now I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
She crossed her arms underneath her chest. "Are you having second thoughts?"
"Not in the way you would think. I know I... like you." He inhaled sharply, "Dragon, I sound like a teenage boy."
Bloom giggled at that statement but Valtor could see if was forced. "But?"
"I don't know if this will work." Admitting that he didn't know something wasn't simple for him and he realized Bloom knew it as well when her lips pressed together in a small but embarrassed smile. "I know we have... something. Something is obviously here but... will that something be enough to keep us motiva-"
"Kiss me." She interrupted him with a phrase Valtor never thought he would hear directed at him. His mouth opened and closed but no sound escaped. He was shocked into silence.
"W-What?"
"Kiss me." She repeated loud and clear. "You want to know if the chemistry we have will be enough to... get us through it." She lowered her gaze as blush appeared on her cheeks. She shrugged. "It's like a Schrodinger's cat. We won't know unless we try." Her eyes swept across all the surfaces she could find until they locked on Valtor's shocked one's. She squirmed and averted her gaze as she started fidgeting and her arms came to hug herself in order to make herself appear smaller. "Of course if you don't want to that's ok I was just making a sug-"
In all the rush she was in to excuse her impulsive words she failed to notice that Valtor finally got over his shock and has quickly reduced the distance between their bodies. This time it was Bloom that got interrupted as Valtor cupped her face and did exactly what she asked him to do. He sealed their lips together, cutting off her nervous speech in the best way possible. There was no firework or explosion behind closed eyelids, just an incredible heat that coursed through their veins. He felt Bloom's breath hitch but she quickly recovered and her arms came to grip his shoulders as she stood on her tip toes and craned her neck upwards. Valtor chuckled at her attempts to make this easier on him but took pity when she whined and pressed her lips harder against his. He bent down as his tongue swept over her lower lip, asking for a permission that she granted without any resistance, and his arms came to wrap around her waist before he picked her up and she let out a noise of surprise as her feet no longer stood on firm surface.
Bloom was first to break the kiss as her teeth came to bite her already swollen lips. "Wow." It was the first thing she spoke since he kissed her and he laughed at her surprised expression and astonished whisper.
"Wow indeed." He lowered her feet back on the ground but she swayed for a second so he kept his arms on her waist just in case she got light headed. "So... is the cat alive?"
"Alive and kicking." Her hands gripped his shirt.
"Hmmm."
"Maybe we should, ehem, repeat the experiment a few more times... just so we're sure in the result." Valtor's pupils dilated and his grip on her waist tightened.
"We should be careful." His voice was a growl and Bloom shuddered visibly. "We might set something on fire."
"Well," Bloom smiled as she lifted her head up once again and her hands started tugging on his shirt to get him closer. "at least there's an ocean to extinguish any wild fires we might cause."
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kodzukenscorner · 4 years
Text
Akaashi, Sakusa, and Iwaizumi in a long distance relationship
anon asked: Can you please do a headcanon for Akaashi, Sakusa, and Iwaizumi, where they have a long distance relationship and when they meet their s/o for the first time in person?
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a/n: ok how did you know who my three fav characters were-- but fr can you tell how whipped i am for them
wc: 1,457
✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶
Akaashi
You and Akaashi had started texting when he got your number from your school’s volleyball team roster
You were the manager of a rival team and he took it upon himself to text you, trying to set up some sort of practice match or training camp
Normally Bokuto or one of their managers would be in charge of that but since they were in their third year and busy enough, Akaashi decided to do it
You were extremely nice and respectful over text and he was happily surprised when you two started communicating
Soon enough your texts became more frequent and they started drifting away from the topic of volleyball
You had started by asking him how long he had been playing volleyball and why he started in the first place and that led to asking about his childhood and other hobbies he has
He returned the questions and the two of you started spilling your life stories to each other
Your texts were a daily ritual and every time you had a free moment, you were definitely texting each other
Akaashi was getting teased by his teammates for it, wondering who the mystery girl who had caught his attention was, but he wasn’t going to tell them
He texted you once saying his teammates thought the two of you were dating
He nearly combusted when you texted back saying you wouldn’t mind if the two of you were dating
And just like that your subtly flirtatious texts were now more overtly romantic and you were calling each other by sweet pet names and nicknames
All this time and he still had no idea what you looked like 
Until the practice match you two had set up weeks ago finally came around
He was ready to jump out of his own skin when your team finally arrived at the gym and you lined up to greet each other
It was easy for him to spot you since you were the manager and he had told you his jersey number so you knew exactly who he was
You kept your eyes glued on each other the whole time
After the greetings were over the two of you slinked away to an isolated corner of the gym where you finally formally introduced yourselves
His heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice for the first time and he couldn’t help but blurt out the words he had been thinking since he first saw you
“I promise to take you on a real date after this match. I’m sorry we started dating in such an unconventional way, you deserve so much more because you’re wonderful and beautiful and-”
He wanted to keep going but he was desperately trying to fight back the blush that was rising on his face
And your laughter stopped him right in his tracks
Suddenly he had a new favorite sound
Sakusa
You two had first started talking in an online forum
Sakusa had a more difficult time than most when it came to making friends
He always came off as cold and people weren’t used to his prickly nature and aversion to germs and touch in general
So he turned to the internet to try and meet some like minded individuals, and that’s where he met you
He had posted in some forum complaining about people lacking basic hygiene
You responded to his post about people not properly drying their hands after washing them, agreeing with him
You two went back and forth complaining about proper bathroom etiquette until you stopped responding
He just assumed the conversation was over until you popped into his private messages
You were the one to first tell him that you wanted to get to know him better, you thought his dry sarcasm and straight forward responses and views were endearing
He was confused but he had come on here trying to make friends in the first place, so he obliged you
And so the two of you began chatting every day for weeks about everything and nothing
You were the first person he would turn to whenever he wanted to rant about something and you loved knowing that he trusted you enough to tell you these things
You were talking about face masks when you decided to be a bit bold and sent him a picture of yourself with your new mask, adorned with little weasels on them
Up until this moment Sakusa wasn’t really thinking about what you looked like but when he saw your photo he felt his breathing hitch
You tried to get him to send you a photo of himself by slyly asking what his mask looked like
Unfortunately he replied saying he usually wore plain white masks, nothing special
You sulked for most of the day afterward until, hours later, he sent you a selfie with his mask, unprompted
You gasped out loud, not at all expecting a picture or expecting him to be so...hot 
After that you started sharing selfies with him more frequently and every now and again he would send one back which always managed to make your heart soar
One day you took it a step further and asked him if he wanted to meet up somewhere quiet
To your surprise he actually said yes and you set up a date at a small cafe
He was extremely punctual so you weren’t surprised to see that he had arrived before you
Approaching the table he was seated at, you greeted him timidly and he nodded back at you
“I uh- got you this” You pulled out a handkerchief with little weasels on them, handing it to him
“You know, since our first conversation was about drying your hands and all”
You trailed off, unsure how to read his facial expressions but then after what felt like an eternity he took the handkerchief from your hands
You finally made eye contact with him and he slid his mask down, revealing his full face to you for the first time
He smiled sweetly at you “Thank you”
You practically melted right then and there
Iwaizumi
You were a relative of Oikawa’s and whenever the two of you talked, he always brought up his best friend “Iwa-Chan”
You knew plenty about him thanks to Oikawa’s incessant ramblings but you’d never actually seen him or spoken to him
Then as Oikawa’s birthday was coming around you decided you wanted to visit him as a surprise since it had been while since the two of you had seen each other
You didn’t want him to find out about it so you managed to get ahold of his best friend, Iwaizumi
Iwa also knew who you were, Oikawa had mentioned you a few times, so he was happy to help you plan out your trip and make sure Oikawa was at home when you showed up
You two talked over the phone and texted a bit, planning it all out and you confessed to him that Oikawa talked about him all of the time and you knew an embarrassing amount about his life
Then the two of you then started talking about yourselves and got to know each other better
He would call you every couple of days just to tell you about silly things Oikawa did to piss him off and really just to hear your voice
One day, as Oikawa’s birthday got closer, you suggested video chatting to finalize your plans
Iwa happily agreed and the two of you finally saw each other’s faces for the first time, even if it was just through a screen
You were so taken aback because you were not expecting him to be this attractive
He was the first to speak up, “Oh shit you’re hot”
He was quick to realize what he said and did his best to try and recover
You were laughing so hard you were nearly in tears
The conversation ended up being the two of you just chatting and talking about everything except Oikawa’s birthday
Then when his actual birthday came around, Iwa had constant butterflies in his stomach
He was supposed to pick you up from the train station while the others were supposed to make sure Oikawa was at home for when you arrived 
He spotted you first, waving you over to him
When you got up to him, you stopped in your tracks and he was confused until you opened your mouth
“Oh shit you’re hot”
He was a flustered mess, looking anywhere except at you while you just chuckled and took his hand in yours, walking towards the surprise party that was waiting
“I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m more excited to see you than Tooru”
“Me too” 
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jilytho · 3 years
Text
Blind Dating and Miscalculating
Blind dating au where Lily is on a blind date and wrongly assumes James is her date
Read below or on AO3 :)
“Whew does Mary know how to pick ‘em!” James looked up in shock to see a woman, apparently under the impression some Mary somehow ‘picked’ James leering at him, teetering from side to side as she pulled back the chair opposite him and clambered into it, nearly knocking off the unused wine glass closest to her. 
Drunk. Drunk but also gorgeous. Red tendrils that likely at one point in the night were neatly arranged were now flung about her shoulders in partial disarray. 
“Scuse me, I’m not quite sure you’ve got the right-”
“I told her I didn’t want to go! I said,” she reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling it towards her, wide eyes locked on his. One look at her bright green eyes (beautifully green eyes, his favorite shade of green, actually) was enough to tell that while the lights were on, nobody was home. “I said, Mary!” She exclaimed, continuing to cradle his hand close to her while gesturing wildly with the other, “Mary I have no interest in dating, period. Nevermind getting set up with some random strange man. Especially with the name Mark. I mean, look, no offense Mark and other Marks of the world but it really is a rather plain name.” She paused to catch his gaping mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish before continuing. “That’s not to say that plain is always a bad thing or that extravagant names are a good thing,” she stumbled over the word extravagant and pushed right past it, “I mean I dated this bloke, Severus, once and I thought wow such an interesting name, fascinating. Nope. Dead boring and borderline stalkerish fellow as it turns out. So you’d think I’d like plain after an experience like that, wouldn’t you?”
She stopped abruptly, eyes staring at him expectantly, apparently waiting for some form of agreement. 
“Erm I suppose so?”
“Exactly! You’d think! But I mean, Mark. So mundane. I just assumed the person would be mundane as well. Probably an accountant or a lawyer, blech. Not to mention I was a bit nervous, been a little since my last date if I’m being honest. Not that there weren't offers.” She gripped his hand tighter, “There were offers, Mark. Don’t start thinking I’m desperate. I had offers.” She dropped his hand and folded her arms as if he had suggested otherwise. 
“I didn’t say- I’m not, I'm sorry can we back up for a-” his words and thoughts were a jumbled mess.
“Anyway,” she huffed, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arms, “anyway. Anyway, what was I saying? Mark! Yes, Mark. So as I was saying, I didn’t want to go on this date at all but Mary was all ‘it’ll be good for you! He’s so cute! We’ll get drinks first!’ and so I agreed to come meet you, but may have drank more than three margaritas but in my defense it was 2 for 1 and Mary was paying and I can never pass up a good deal. So that's why I’m late. But I am here. I am here with you, Mark, and you are far less boring looking than I expected. Yes, much cuter than any Mark I’ve ever met. Mary did well.” She nodded approvingly, sitting back in her seat and smiling constantly. 
From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius walk into the restaurant and see the woman in the chair Sirius had been meant to occupy. James immediately tried to signal with his eyes, “HELP, HELP, HELP” without alerting the redhead in front of him when Sirius, the bastard, winked at him lightly, turned on his heel, and left.
She hadn’t noticed his desperate face as she was busy scanning the menu over and when she wasn’t calling him Mark or yelling in his face she was quite pretty. Extremely pretty, actually. Like exactly the kind of person he’d want to have one a blind date. Or a non-blind date. Any date really. And the girl clearly needed food in her stomach to soak up some of her margarita, really it would be irresponsible to leave her like this. The least he could do would be to keep her company, pretend he was Mark to try and minimize her embarrassment, and then make sure she got home safe. 
“You know,” she met his eye over her menu as he spoke, “for someone who seems to have a lot of opinions on my name, I don’t believe Mary ever told me yours.” 
She laughed lightly, a beautiful wind chimey, tinkly noise that sent delight shooting down his spine. 
“Lily, Lily Evans.” She reached her hand across the table again, this time for him to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” 
“Pleasure is all mine, Lily, Lily Evans.” He shook her hand lightly and looked back at his menu. 
XX
Dinner seemed to fly by. Once Lily got some food into her system she sobered up rapidly, yet sobriety in no way impacted her ability to keep him completely enthralled and entertained. Each passing minute made him more inclined to legally change his name to Mark and live the lie for the rest of his days. 
Sure their life would be a lie, he thought as she threw her head back laughing over some asinine story he was telling of Sirius, red hair swirling around like flames, but it would be fun. 
Not only was she bold, she openly mocked his ordering bourbon, ruthlessly holding nothing back despite only knowing him for a matter of minutes, but she was also unbelievably sweet. Listening intently to every story he shared, telling multiple of her own where despite being an ass kicking journalist she somehow also found time to volunteer at the animal shelter and had fostered three different dogs in the last two months. Ruthless, for sure, as she batted her eyes at him over her water glass causing all sorts of feelings to start to stir. She would give James, correction- Mark, a run for his money and then some. Barely an hour of sitting across from her and he was pretty sure he’d take his dinner knife to Mark's throat if the bloke ever actually did show up. Whether it be from jealousy or fury that any human being could ever stand up this goddess in front of him. 
The conversation flowed easily. Leaping seamlessly from her parents professions to his childhood mischief to the time she dyed her sister's dog key lime green. Her dad had a thing for flowers, apparently, marrying a Rose and insisting on making their daughters Petunia and Lily. 
“You could keep up the tradition, you know. Get your kids some flower names. Maybe something unique,”
“What?” She scoffed, “and subject them to years of cheesy, thoughtless bouquets of a flower you hardly like just because it’s your namesake? I don’t think so.”
“Then make it a flower they’d want to get! Or an herb, like Basil. Everyone wants a Basil plant around.” He pointed his drink at her as she spluttered incoherently, “are you telling me you don’t love a basil plant?”
“You’re right, how dare I overlook such a top quality name as Basil.” She drawled out in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I suppose we’d go with something more colorful though, like Anemone!” She looked like the idea was pure genius and now he was the one spluttering in her face. 
He tried not to let his heart burst at her use of we. 
“I’m sorry, isn’t that the ocean thing? The Nemo thing? The sea anananamename thing where they live? That’s what you want to name your child?”
Her eyes were screwed shut as she clutched her chest, gasping for air through her laughs. 
“What?” He grinned at her, not caring if he had somehow said the wrong thing or appeared dumb when her laughter was so intoxicating. He felt a tingling run straight down his spine. 
“A sea,” she gasped out through choked laughs, “anemone!” 
“That’s what you just said!” He continued to argue. 
“Whew,” she wiped a stray tear from one eye, “truthfully you’re not that far off base at all. Same exact spelling. But they do have anemone for flowers that are on land as well as the sea. I’ve just never heard someone butcher a word so spectacularly.”
“Yes well, you know I’m quite good at that.” He leaned back in his seat as her eyebrow quirked up. “In fact, so good that I have been named the anti-Spelling B Champ,” he nodded matter of factly and continued on as if she wasn’t gaping at him, echo of a laugh still present on her face. 
“It’s true! Annually, all the people that hate spelling b’s gather and compete to see who can truly butcher a word the most. I’ve won every time. You’re sitting with a nationally ranked word ruiner.”
“Oh wow, however could I have not known. Do you have any secrets of the trade you could share?”
“I usually would never divulge such confidential information but just because you asked so nicely and because you are in fact stunningly gorgeous, I’ll give you one.” He leaned in conspiratorially, hitching a finger for her to do the same, and dropped his voice low. “To really put yourself over the top and seal that victory,” he looked side to side dramatically, checking for eavesdroppers before looking back on her, “is all about the silent Q.” He sat back again and watched her shoulders shake lightly with poorly concealed giggles. 
“Personally,” he grinned strongly, all pretense of secrecy gone, “I like to throw a minimum of three in there just to really set myself apart. Once I did a silent q followed by a silent x. I nearly sent the judge to an early grave.”
“You know I bet what would have really done him in is if you followed the x with a p but you pronounce the p like a-“
“Lily?” James reared back to find some bloke standing next to their table staring anxiously in between the two of them. “Are you Lily?” Lily nodded lightly, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, eyes flitting between the newcomer and James. 
“Um yes I am, I’m sorry do I know you?” 
A wave of cold dread overcame him, realization sinking into his chest. The newcomer, just about their age, polo and khakis, easily could have been a lawyer or an accountant. He had to explain before she realized as well and he looked like a total lying creep. 
“Lily, I can explain-“
“I’m Mark, I’m so sorry I’m so late. My car broke down and I didn’t have your number.” 
They spoke at the same time, the real Mark reaching a hand out to shake Lily’s. 
She didn’t take it. Instead she swiveled dumbly between the two staring accusingly at the real Mark. “You can’t be Mark. I’m having dinner with Mark. You must be here for someone else.”
“Lily, I really can explain if you’d just-“ James started again as Lily whipped around to face him. “You! You liar! Who are you?” She pushed back in her chair looking at him as suspiciously as if he had just announced he liked to moonlight as a serial killer in his spare time. 
“I’m sorry, your name is Mark as well?” The real Mark stared down at James politely inquiring, as if this was all perhaps a genuine mix up and not a case of an imposter stealing his date. 
“Not quite, its erm James. But truly if you think absolutely it the names are quite similar, the whole second letter being an A and the part about being in the Bible and what not.” Mark's eyebrows rose and Lily did not appear amused by his comparison. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lie or anything, I just… you sat down and assumed I was Mark and I was actually meant to be meeting a friend but you were just so pretty and funny and I didn’t want you to feel like you’d been stood up so I thought I could come clean later but I just wanted to get to know you. I’m sorry, truly.” She looked at him, hurt and confused, and he just wanted to hang his head low and apologize another half dozen times. 
“I can leave so you two can get on with your date,” his heart sank as he stood, gesturing the open chair to Mark without quite meeting his eye. 
He forced himself to look up at Lily, “I really am sorry. It was really nice to meet you, have a nice evening.” 
He turned lightly and began to head out of the restaurant, feeling Lily’s eyes burning into the back of his head even while he heard Mark sit down across from her and apologize again for his lateness. 
He was barely out the door when he heard her yelling his name, his real name, from behind and spun back around to watch her jogging to catch up to him. 
He braced himself for her to yell at him or hit him or completely tear him a new one and gave her a forced smile. 
“Lily, I-“
“Is your name really James?” she huffed, somewhat out of breath. 
“Erm yes. Just James. No Jim or Jay or weird nicknames really…” his right hand came up to ruffle the back of his hair, still anxiously waiting for her to scream at him. 
She reached up on her tiptoes, hand snaking around the back of his neck (oh god she was gonna try and hold his head still so she could really hit him strongly) and used it to pull herself up closer and his head down and touch her lips lightly to his. 
The light kiss sent shockwaves down his body as he froze, processing what was happening. 
“I like the name James so much more.” She whispered against his lips, barely a breath away. That was all he needed to throw an arm around her waist and tuck her snugly against him, the other hand going to caress her cheek and bring his lips back to her, stronger than before. They kissed deeply and sweetly and he felt it down through his toes and in every single nerve in his body. 
When they pulled apart, still wrapped up in each other, and she lightly hummed his name against him, he felt suddenly very sure that there was no sound better than her saying his name. 
“So, I’d really like to do that again. And the date again. With you knowing my name the whole time preferably. Preferably right now. What's to say I go take care of the bill and you take care of the real Mark and we go get some ice cream, maybe?”
“What’s say we do.” She intertwined their fingers and pulled him lightly back towards the restaurant for a fresh start.
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wwwhttps · 3 years
Text
To Learn to Feel Alive Chapter 2
Woo! Excited for skyward sword tomorrow mostly because of MOVEABLE CAMERA!! But here’s a new chapter hehe
Ao3 link for A++ experience
Chapter 2: Small Signs
She should've expected the nightmares. After all, for a century her whole life was a never-ending nightmare. It only made sense that the memory of that torture would translate into her dreams.
What she wasn't expecting was for Ganon to suddenly morph into Link, his face soulless, his eyes empty sockets as he plunged a sword through her chest. His mouth opened, and Ganon's distorted laugh could be heard.
She woke up with a scream tearing from her throat.
Hands grasped at her shoulders. "Princess Zelda! Are you alright?"
Panting out, her throat burning, Zelda opened her eyes to see Paya's burgundy ones swimming with worry. She was kneeling next to the mattress, hands still on her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, placing a hand on her chest. "I didn't scream too much, did I?"
Paya shook her head quickly, dropping her other hand. "Just the once. You were thrashing, though. That's why I was here, checking up on you."
"Did I wake you? What time is it?" There were no windows on the second floor, an interesting design choice.
"It's midday, Zelda. You were asleep for twelve hours," Paya explained, then smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Well-rested," Zelda replied shortly, not ready to get into how she really felt. "Have you seen Link at all this morning?"
"No," Paya shook her head with a frown. "He wasn't in the village."
"What? Where is he?" She couldn't get the image of his empty eyes out of her head. She had to see him. Forget what state he's in.
"We don't know, Zelda. He tends to disappear without a word, usually with the Sheikah slate's teleportation feature." The Sheikah slate's what? That was new. She didn't have time to think about it.
"I'm going to find him." Zelda got to her feet, brushing the wrinkles out of the robes she slept in. She slipped past Paya and headed down the stairs.
"Stop right there," Impa ordered when Zelda beelined for the door. Zelda paused, turning slowly. "There's no need to spent countless hours searching. He always comes back."
"But-"
"You need to eat, Princess. When was the last time you did?" Impa accused. Zelda's silence spoke volumes. "A century ago. Paya, please prepare the Princess some beef noodles."
"Yes, Grandmother," Paya said, and Zelda crossed her arms like a petulant child as the young Sheikah walked away.
"Sleep well?" Impa asked pointedly, a twinkle in her eyes.
"Wonderfully, thanks for your concern," she replied with blatant sarcasm. "Just a few nightmares where Link kills me."
Impa gave her a pitying stare she didn't want. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"I'd like to talk about it with Link, the one that's currently missing." There were two implications of her words, depending on how one interpreted them. She meant them both.
"Very well," Impa replied, before closing her eyes, signaling the end of their short conversation. That was fine by Zelda.
Paya returned shortly with a steaming bowl of noodles. Zelda took it gratefully, just now feeling how hungry she was. Plus they looked extremely appetizing. Sheikah noodles were the best.
She devoured them quickly, before setting her bowl down and heading out the door, not sparing Impa a glance. She heard the elder sigh behind her.
"Your Highness," the guard at the bottom of the stairs greeted with a dip of his head. He wasn't alone, there was a second guard today.
"Hello, er.."
"Dorian, Your Highness," he filled in for her. "And that's Cado."
"Nice to meet you both. Have you seen Link?" Zelda looked around the village for any hint of blue.
"I saw him this morning at the crack of dawn," Cado offered, getting her undivided attention. "He disappeared in a swirl of blue lights right in front of the arrow shop."
Where had he gone at such an early hour? To still be gone? She didn't give him any orders, why would he decide to leave without a specific task?
She huffed, going back into Impa's. She wasn't going to search for him. Impa was right, it would be pointless.
"I take it you took my advice?" The elder asked rhetorically. Zelda stuck her tongue out at her, taking a seat on one of the cushions and crossing her legs. Perhaps some meditation would do her some good. As well as kill some time.
The door burst open a half hour into her meditation. Her head whipped around to see Link walk in. She got to her feet and walked directly in front of him, pushing a finger into his chest.
"You! Where have you been?!" she interrogated harshly. He merely blinked, and she was glad to note his eyes weren't gaping holes. "No one told you to go anywhere. I told you to eat, that's it. Why did you leave?"
His face remaining blank, he slipped the Sheikah slate into her hands. She looked down in confusion. "What? You didn't answer me."
Link stared at her, then at the slate.
"The answer is in the slate, Princess," Impa butted in.
"I knew that," Zelda said defensively, then brought the slate up so she could look at it. "What am I looking for?" She began to swipe through the familiar screen.
As she went through the inventory, something caught her eye. Were those health potions? And beside them were bandages. She looked up at Link in surprise.
"You got potions and bandages!" She grabbed his arm and saw that he replaced her makeshift bandage with a real one. "I thought you said they were unnecessary. So why..?"
"To make you happy," Impa stated lowly from her perch. Zelda turned to look at her in befuddlement.
"That can't be it. He doesn't care if I'm happy." She looked back up at Link curiously, searching for a reason. "It's because I wanted you to have them, isn't it?"
"Yes," he responded. Zelda turned to Impa with a smirk.
"See? He was simply taking a request," Zelda said, happy to have been proven right. But she was unhappy at the same time. He didn't care. She let her eyes fall upon him again, studying his face for any sign of emotion.
He may as well have been made of stone.
"Did you eat anything today?" she asked him. He shook his head, and she nearly facepalmed. "Link, you need to eat. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Remember to do that, please."
Link stared, then nodded. "As you wish."
"No, Link. Don't do it for me, do it for yourself," she enunciated. He nodded again, equally as robotic. "Now go. Eat." She couldn't bear to look at him any longer. It hurt her heart seeing him this way.
He turned and left, and Zelda put her head in her hands, dropping back to the cushion.
"You sent him away so quickly after wanting to find him so badly," Impa noted, her judgement clear.
"What else am I supposed to do with him? Talk to a wall?" Zelda asked spitefully.
"Talking to him wouldn't hurt." Impa stated, then raised an eyebrow. "Pretend he's just your silent appointed knight again. He didn't talk back then either."
"He had feelings back then. I know that, because I would often hurt them." In the beginning, at least.
"You could always ask him to smile," Impa jested. Zelda didn't find it funny.
"Yeah, and I'll make him do a little dance as he does," she said sarcastically. Impa cackled, then became serious again.
"Just treat him like a normal person. Maybe he'll come around eventually."
Zelda sighed. "I'll try."
-
She didn't end up trying for a few days. Instead, she avoided him like she used to, only this time he wasn't looking for her. Wherever he was, she would be somewhere else. Or she would order him to do some trivial task away from her.
The only thing she would do was make sure he was eating, which they did sometimes together, whenever Impa invited them both to dinner. It was during one of these dinners that she noticed he ate just as quickly as he used to, and just as much. That had caused her to excuse herself from dinner so she could avoid him some more.
Her nightmares also continued. She woke up hyperventilating every morning, with only Paya to comfort her. She wished it was Link.
It was as she began to head up the stairs to Paya's room when Link entered one day that she was exposed for her actions.
"I think it's time you two leave," Impa declared, and Zelda's face paled. She stopped in her steps and went back into the room to stare accusingly at the elder. Link still stood in the doorway.
"What? Why?"
"It's been four days, you've healed enough. You've avoided him enough." Impa gave her a pointed look full of disappointment. Zelda's face heated as she glanced at Link. His eyes were on her. They always seemed to be on her.
"Well-" she floundered, glaring back at Impa. "Where do you expect us to go?"
"You can start by going to Hateno. Link probably didn't bother fixing the slate, and Purah's there."
"Purah?" Zelda repeated her friend's name. She and Purah had become close, sharing in their pursuit of knowledge. "Purah's still alive?"
"Unfortunately," Impa muttered. "She set up a lab in Hateno. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."
Zelda couldn't pass up on the opportunity to see her friend. Even if it meant traveling with Link. She crossed her arms. "Fine, we'll go."
Impa grinned. "I knew you'd agree to seeing my sister. Safe travels."
It was getting dark out, just after dinner. "We'll leave tomorrow, it's too late now."
"Bah, fine. But if I hear you sneak out at night without Link, I'm coming after you personally," Impa warned her. It was an effective threat, Zelda wouldn't dare cross her.
She turned and addressed Link. "Go get some sleep. We'll leave at dawn." She didn't bother watching him leave, instead going upstairs so she could get ready.
The Sheikah slate was with her most of the time now, after her confiscating it from Link so he couldn't disappear with it again, and she used it to pack her things. She and Paya had gotten her new clothes at the clothing store the second day, so she stuffed those into the slate, briefly marveling at how they disappeared. And really, that was all she owned, so she was done.
Paya came upstairs a little while later. Zelda gave her a smile, looking up from the slate's inventory that she was swiping through. It was interesting to see what Link had picked up during his month in the wild. There were a good amount of weapons, and very little else. Did one truly need three lizal tri-boomerangs?
"I heard you were leaving tomorrow," Paya said softly, sitting across from her on the mattress. "I'm going to miss you, Zelda."
Zelda gave her a small shrug, feeling a warmth in her chest. "I shouldn't be gone too long. But I'll miss you too, Paya. You've become a good friend and a great comfort to me." She recalled waking up crying one morning, with Paya there to hug her until she stopped.
"I consider you a friend as well," Paya told her warmly, gripping her hands. "Please be careful on your journey. I know Master Link has no problem protecting you, but.."
"I know," Zelda interrupted. "He's changed. I'll be careful." She squeezed the girl's hands before pulling away. "I leave early, I'm going to bed."
Paya dipped her head. "Okay." She left, to her own bed.
Zelda slipped under the covers, pulling them around her and laying on her side. Her brain was running rampant with worried thoughts about tomorrow, and she willed it to shut off.
She eventually was able to drift into unconsciousness.
-
She dreamt of better times, of her and Link at the castle, as well as outside the castle. She dreamt of hotfooted frogs and way too much Goron spice, and of Link's look of utter disgust when the two were combined. Most of all, she dreamt of his blushing smile when she rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek.
Her dream ended, and her eyes opened to see Link standing above her, his empty blue gaze on her. She let out a shocked gasp.
"Link! What are you doing in here!" She sat up, shooting her gaze towards where Paya usually slept. She wasn't there. Where was she?
As usual, he didn't answer. His eyes scanned over her face before meeting her eyes, and holding out a gloved hand. She studied it curiously, before taking it and letting him help her to her feet.
"Thank you," she said, dropping his hand after a moment. She walked past him, hearing his footsteps follow behind her as she made her way downstairs.
Both Paya and Impa were there. Impa had a grin on her face that Zelda was suspicious of.
"Why was Link upstairs while I was sleeping?" she asked, squinting at Impa.
"I told him to wake you up," Impa stated dully, though her eyes held mischief. "It's past dawn, you slept in, Princess."
"Oh," she replied dumbly. Perhaps it was because she wanted to hold onto her dream for as long as possible. "Well, we should get going now, shouldn't we?" She couldn't help but feel like she was being kicked out.
"You should. Tell my sister I say hello,"  Impa requested, then gave Zelda a gummy smile. "Please be careful, Zelda. And don't forget to visit."
"Understood," Zelda said with a respectful dip of her head. She offered the two Sheikah one last parting smile, then turned to Link. "Let's be off, then."
He nodded, and then walked with her out the door and into the chilly morning air.
Link's horse was already prepared for the journey, as it stood free of any ropes securing it. She was well-trained, it seemed. But how could that be, when she didn't even have a name?
Zelda watched as Link suddenly gave the horse an apple. It came as a relief that he at least knew to feed her, if not himself.
She got on after him, and with a kick of his heels against the horse's flank, they were on their way.
-
An hour in, they were crossing the place where Link fell. It gave Zelda chills.
Stay strong, she willed to herself. It wouldn't do to break down now. Instead she focused on Link alive in front of her, even going as far as wrapping her arms around his waist. He didn't even twitch. It wasn't very comforting.
Perhaps some attempt at conversation would take her mind off the dozens of guardian husks.
"Your horse still needs a name, Link," she said to him. "She's surely helped you a lot, it's not nice to not give her one."
Link's gaze remained in front of them, at the broken guardians. No, she brought her attention away from them. A sigh left her at his lack of response.
"Fine. If you're not going to name her, I will," she huffed. Her thoughts went back to the day she was freed from Ganon. The fearlessness in the mare's eyes after going up against a beast one hundred times her size. The perfect name came to her. "How about Courage?"
Link was silent for a good moment, and she was expecting no reply. So she was caught by surprise when he said, "Sure."
She smiled, happy to have him say something after so long. "Great, Courage it is. What do you think, Courage?" The mare snorted below them, and Zelda didn't know if she should take that as a good noise or a bad one. She decided it was the former. "I think she likes it."
Link remained quiet. At least it wasn't an awkward kind of quiet. Her thoughts returned to the field around her, she couldn't help it. This field was where she lost him, and never quite got him back. She wondered, did he know? Did he remember dying? She didn't know how much he did remember, if anything at all. He at least knew who she was.
"Link, do you recognize where we are?" She had to know.
"No, Princess," he responded in record time. Her heart jumped at the fact he actually addressed her.
Well, that answered that. "Oh," she said quietly. "Well it's a bad memory for me."
Link nodded, and then snapped the reins, causing Courage to trot faster across the muddy field.
She didn't order him to move faster. But he seemed to pick up on what she wanted nonetheless. What did that say about him?
She didn't want to think too much into it. Instead, she squeezed him a little tighter. "Thank you, Link."
Maybe it was because of the trotting horse beneath them, but she swore she felt him twitch under her touch.
-
"Link, we need to stop to eat," Zelda said a few hours into their trip, when the sun shone directly above at midday. Her stomach was rumbling, she hadn't had breakfast, and she was guessing neither had Link.
As soon as the words left her mouth, he pulled back on Courage's reins. The horse stopped on command, chuffing once. Link's head turned to look at her.
"Well, we don't have many options," she said, pulling out the slate. She swiped through the inventory, looking at the apples and mushrooms. They were all unappealing to her.
"Next screen," Link suddenly said, and it caught her off guard. That was the first time he spoke unbidden.
Listening to his suggestion, Zelda swiped to the next screen, where she expected to see zero prepared meals like she saw yesterday. Instead, she was surprised to see an array of meat skewers and mushroom skewers, as well as some baked apples. Her eyes lifted to Link in poorly concealed wonderment.
"These weren't here yesterday, when did you have time to make these?"
His eyes bore into hers, still as blank as ever. "Last night."
She told him to go to sleep last night. Had he gone against her direct orders? She was ecstatic to hear it, but tried not to let it show. It proved that he was capable of thought other than what others wanted from him.
"This is wonderful, Link," she told him warmly. "And you made a few different things for me to choose from, that's thoughtful of you."
His empty stare wasn't as disheartening as it normally was. Because now, Zelda knew there was someone behind that stare.
And she would do everything in her power to get him free.
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Text
The Iowa Caucus Happened
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A job offer slides into Rafael’s DMs as he waits to find out if it’ll be a new start or prison on February 8.
Accidental Feminist Icon
Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba
“Mister Barba?”
Rafael didn’t like hearing his name from the young woman behind him, especially not given what he’d done. He’d texted Carmen on the first day of the trial, and she’d agreed to look into the offers from attorneys he knew, and some he didn’t, while he sat beside Dworkin and emotionally prepared himself to testify. The ones he’d looked at the night before came from people he didn’t like or were last resorts. He’d moved from his visceral response to finding law to back his actions. Applying logic could let him detangle himself from his conflicted emotions. Catholic guilt wrestled his humanity. That said, he also found himself desperate to introduce Ollie to music as Carmen worked from his apartment that first afternoon, not caring for once as the toddler drooled or sneezed or spilled all over him.
“Yes?” he asked, taking his coffee from the cart. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“We haven’t. I follow you on Twitter.”
“Ah,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss-”
“Rachel Sullivan. I have, like, a reading Twitter.”
“I’ve seen that! Read with Rachel? Your icon is a copy of Howl?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, chuckling. “I just- listen, I know it’s bad what’s going on and a lot of people are really hurt and going after you. Do I get it? No. But, I think you didn’t get a good choice, and you did what’s right for you. When it seems impossible, it’s not my place to judge something I can’t fathom. And a lot of people feel the same. A bunch of us have a group chat and we hope everything goes well and you get to start again.”
It was a stark contrast to his interaction with mami or emails from church ladies. There was an acknowledgement of disagreement, but he needed more people to respect that they weren’t there like she did. He also remembered watching his father die, and while he didn’t like the man, he regretted not ending that pain. It only drew out hurt for everyone. 
“Thank you, Rachel. That really means the world to me.”
“Good luck today,” she said, giving him a wave when she took her coffee and left. By the end of the day, Rafael hated Peter Stone for being a damn good prosecutor, and he wondered if there were any cases he’d tried, especially the ones before SVU that he was wrong on. He made his way into a new bar, definitely not his usual during all of this, and he sat and drafted his resignation. It took longer than he cared to admit, and he restarted and reread it time and time again. By the time he was drunk, he’d written something he could proofread the next morning and ignored calls from Olivia, Carmen, and mami. 
He decided it was time to do what he had been dreading, logging into Twitter. Since Carmen had cleaned it up, more people had found him, and he was able to easily ignore anything hateful by skimming for murder or murderer in the body of the tweet. He skipped those, and Rafael was surprised to see some apathy, sympathy, or respect for his reasoning. Lazily, he scrolled his direct messages. A select few of the people who knew him contacted him with revulsion, but his filtered messages were filled with vitriol. He found Rachel’s account again, following her back and deciding he could break his unspoken rule of only following people he knew or the occasional blog/podcast/museum/celebrity. If anyone contacted him with kindness, he was now more open to the reciprocity of Twitter; no one would be asking him to prosecute their case soon.  
He saw a message from Tripp Greene. In Harvard, they’d had an unspoken alliance as the two scholarship kids in their cohort, a silent allegiance that continued into law school. There were very few people Rafael respected personally from Harvard, but Tripp had remained kind, even if he worked in something as ruthless as politics. They’d been reunited by Rafael’s uptick in Twitter popularity. He was more proud than he should be by the potential presidential candidates that had followed him. Rafael should have known Tripp would reach out; he was ever the silent cheerleader and had watched a sibling die on life support when he was at Harvard. They’d discussed the morality of pulling plugs and the selfish desire to keep people alive, though most of it had been Tripp talking and Rafael listening.
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While moving to Iowa seemed extreme, he was acutely aware that he would end up haunting the DA’s office and Manhattan SVU like some ghost of ADAs past instead of moving forward. His mother had a boyfriend and looming retirement that seemed likely to take the pair to Miami, where she could play grandma to his grandchildren. There was nothing left for him here but Carmen, and while a great friend, she was not enough to erase the last twenty-one years of his life. When Carmen called for the fifth time that night, he ignored it, but it was quickly followed by Answer the phone or I tell Olivia I haven’t heard from you. With a groan, he answered when Carmen called again sixty seconds later.
“I’m fine. I don’t want to delve back into a play by play of my day.”
“That’s why you’re drunk at seven o’clock,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm as she pretended that solved everything.
“It’s only been two hours?”
“You’re not at Forlini’s.”
“I’m not hanging out with Stone.”
“Send me your location. I just picked Ollie up from mom’s.”
“Take your son home, Carmen. I’ll be fine.”
“But we could talk about how much I also hate Stone. I’ll even stop and let you grab take out from that Cuban place you like.”
“Deal,” he acquiesced, motioning he wanted to close his tab. “Call me when you’re close.”
“Deal. ETA is about fifteen minutes.”
He polished off his scotch, signing the check and tipping well before taking his briefcase and leaning against the wall as he waited for Carmen’s SUV. She waved at him out the window, and he hurried into her passenger seat. Though he always knew that she was a great secretary and assistant, Carmen was proving to be the friend he needed right now. Olivia, in the few phone calls they had, was unwilling to discuss anything but the case. She was in cop mode, and she talked to him like she could swoop in and fix what he had done. While she thought he didn’t know, she’d talked to McCoy, talked to Stone, talked to anyone who would listen. But what she didn’t understand is that he’d accepted going to prison was a possibility, but it was one he felt was worth it.
“Barba!” he heard from the backseat, smiling softly to see Ollie more awake than he’d expected. He’d seen the boy periodically, mostly during evening handoffs when Carmen’s mother would drop him off so Carmen could take him home. There were a lot of single mothers in his life, and all were exceptional. The last few days, Carmen and Ollie both had spent a lot of time with him. He kept introducing Ollie to music and movies and foods like he could make up for everything Drew wouldn’t experience by making sure Ollie did.
“Oliver!” he smiled, twisting around to smile at him. The boy kicked his leg, and the blue stripe on the rubber of his sneakers lit up. “I like your shoes.”’
“Thanks,” he giggled, kicking again. 
“You’re good with him,” Carmen smiled, the navigation now leading her to get his take out. 
“He’s a good kid. Noah made me better with kids. Liv said I held him like a sack of flour at first.”
“You’ll be ready by the time you have your own.”
“I work too much.”
“That can change.”
“I don’t deserve to have a child,” he shrugged, and he could see Carmen purse her lips. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be good at it anyway. Wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I might end up like dad. No kid deserves that shit.”
“Bad word!” Ollie scolded, tablet in hand as he watched a movie.
“Sorry, Ollie. Stuff.”
“You’ve never told me what he did.”
“He wanted heterosexual, toxic machismo and got a swarmy, emotional bisexual.”
“You’re not that emotional.”
“He took care of that,” he said darkly. “I used to cry when he went after mami. That turned his attention to me.”
Carmen knew there was nothing she could say, so instead she silently took his hand, squeezing softly. He was taken aback at first, but he kept her hand loosely in his as his head lulled against the headrest. It was strangely grounding, the physical affection. He’d felt like he was swimming the last few days as memories of his father, his father’s death, his childhood, and each case he tried bubbled up. That wasn’t including the vision of baby drew and Maggie in the hospital room that lingered everywhere. 
The conflicting guilt and conviction he’d done the right thing also broke a damn and the feelings he’d suppressed- loneliness, guilt, abandonment, distrust- were all bubbling to the surface. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to process them so he could focus on a conviction rate and moving forward that he didn’t have the tools everyone else did sometimes. Right now, Carmen felt like an anchor, and he was grateful for her. 
He got out of the car when Carmen parked, ordering enough food for three adults, one take out container containing whatever he thought a toddler could handle. Soon enough, they were settled in his living room and eating, though Ollie had minimal interest in the pork, beans, and rice in front of him. The thought crossed his mind that when he took one of the out of state jobs, he wouldn’t have Carmen there like this. He was sure this friendship would be short lived; when he didn’t need her anymore, she’d leave him. That’s what usually happened, wasn’t it? She just felt bad for him.
“I’m moving to Iowa,” he blurted out before he was able to spiral into the self loathing he’d recently discovered.
“That’s far,” she said, and he thought he could detect sadness in her voice.
“There’s FaceTime.”
“Not quite the same, but I’ll take it.”
“Tripp understands,” he said, sobering up as the food hit his stomach. “He lost a sister. Watched someone dying like with my dad except she’d been born that way. It was years, Carmen.”
“That’s a lot. I’m going to miss you, Rafael. Ollie will too.”
“Come visit. If the tickets are bad, I’ll pay. Or cover renting a car.”
“You’re drunk,” she chuckled. 
“Sorry. Best friend. It’s the rules.”
“We’ll come. But I can afford tickets.” 
“Promise if it’ll make things tight, you’ll let me. You’re raising a kid. No kids means I can afford to get my friend the occasional plane ticket.”
“Deal.”
“Next week, will it be Des Moines or prison? Who knows! I’ll probably grow a beard either way. Think they’d recognize me in prison if I grow a beard?” 
“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Stop shaving and we’ll find out.”
She could see Rafael getting tired, head leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. She preferred when he joked about all of this. They were stuck waiting, and this time the next night they’d probably know. Ollie climbed between them on the couch, and she realized her boss wasn’t the only one almost asleep. 
“You two can stay,” Rafael yawned, hand smoothing Ollie’s curls back. 
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. It’ll be nice not being alone in the morning. And you can stay here to work. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you hate Stone. He’s a good attorney. Doing his job.”
“His job is wrong.”
“That isn’t his fault. If another ADA had done what I did? I’d be prosecuting them.”
“Go get ready for bed,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. As she scooped Ollie up, she kissed the top of Rafael’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Carmen?” She turned in the doorframe. “Thank you. For all of this.”
“I’m glad to, Raf. Promise you’ll actually sleep.”
“I promise.”
“Night, Barba,” Ollie yawned, waving over his mom’s shoulder as they entered his guest room. Maybe Iowa was going to be too far if he didn’t go to prison. He was getting quite fond of having Carmen around quite quickly. He wasn’t going to be her superior anymore, so this friendship could be something he maintained. 
Olivia would be a given; even if they were primarily united around work, she was also one of his closest friends and maybe not working together would make him relax. Hell, maybe the end of his life in the city would do it. Rafael couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt he was chasing an upward trajectory in New York City. Even at Harvard, the plan had been to return. Maybe coming into Des Moines established would let him feel comfortable just existing. 
He liked cooking and reading in the park and going out dancing on occasion. He rarely had time for two options, and the latter made his cheeks red with embarrassment at the prospect of a colleague seeing him during the outing. In Iowa, maybe he could go dancing and take up a new hobby and wear jeans without feeling like something was out of his control. 
He woke up before Carmen, excited to be able to cook for her. He appreciated the fact she was happy to help him, but she had paused her own life for the last few days. Their friendship was relegated to offices and dinners by the office. He’d come to her baby shower and birthday parties and even a holiday party, but that was it and that had other colleagues present. Except maybe the baby shower, but he was determined to buy up whatever was left on her registry when the day came, using mami, abuelita, and the older women at church as pseudonyms to pretend he’d just let family know. 
“You can cook?”
“I just never had time,” he shrugged, tray coming out of the oven.
“You made pastries?” 
“Pastelitos de guayaba.” Carmen didn’t miss how proud he looked as he admired them. They were something he’d always made with family. “They aren’t hard, but abuelita used to make them for me all the time. Puff pastry, sweetened cream cheese and guava paste. Cafe con leche on the way.”
“You couldn’t sleep?” He shook his head, pouring the espresso and adding the milk before placing mugs at the breakfast counter. His mouth was set in a line now, the corners sucked in as he focused on the countertop. Her hand rested on his, giving a squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. “We’ll be helping you pack for Iowa in no time.”
“I hope,” he nodded, biting into a pastry. Ollie came out, eyeing the countertop. “Want one, Oliver?”
“What are they?”
“Delicious,” Carmen groaned, having torn into her own. That was enough for Ollie, who accepted a pastry from Rafael with a soft Thank you before biting into it carefully.
“Wow! It is good!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
It felt a somber affair, despite the pastries, when Carmen saw him off to court. She chose to wait in his apartment, ringer on high and news coverage on. Ollie was easily entertained by the toys she had in the car, and the phones were forwarded to be answerable on her cell phone. By the end of the day, she’d put dinner in his slow cooker and cleaned most everything at least once. And then her phone rang with his ringer. She’d picked one of the other presets for him long ago, and she watched Ollie with his blocks as she answered.
“Rafael?”
“Not guilty,” he exhaled, still unable to believe it as he surveyed his office to begin packing. Her desk was empty, and he didn’t mind today because if she had been here, McCoy would’ve had her helping Stone. Carmen was his assistant, his friend, and it was bad enough to know Stone would probably take his place at work.
“Thank God,” she whispered. “Did you turn the letter in?”
“I put it on Jack’s desk. I’m hoping to be gone buy his return. I think three heavy boxes will cover it. Plus anything I hung, but other than diplomas most of it came with the place.”
“I put dinner on. Ollie and I ran to the store and picked up short ribs and potatoes and carrots. I needed something to do.”
“Nervous you’d be visiting me in prison?”
“You know damn well juries can be swayed. You’ve done it.”
“And I’m safe. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you get to go to Iowa.”
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ohdaim · 3 years
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april fool's day oneshot
hi guys, i wrote this today in one sitting, and it's lazily edited:) i'm recovering from an oral surgery and on strong medication, so i hope this makes as much sense as i think it does.
Ship: Ignis Scientia/female reader Summary: You are a Citadel valet working the night shift, frequently attending to Ignis' car. You have no idea how to talk to him. He has no idea how to ask for your number. Words: 1849 idk if this is considered fluff or just mutual pining but with like,, idiots
__
Stir together bread crumbs, garlic, parsley…
You scanned the rest of the newest recipe on your favorite cooking blog, Feeding The Fussy. As always, it looked delicious. As always, you rated it five stars and typed out a comment.
I followed the recipe exactly, but I left out the bread crumbs and cheese. I used shrimp and bacon grease instead. Terrible recipe. Won’t make again.
Putting your phone away, you came to attention when someone stepped out of a Citadel elevator across the lobby. You worked night shift as a palace valet and hardly saw anyone but for a few regular night owls. One of them approached now, and gods, you were nervous all of a sudden.
Ignis was your favorite regular. He was polite, tipped well, and made small talk so you wouldn't have to. You didn’t know what he did in the Citadel or why he so often left at four in the morning. You just knew you had a big crush on him and, for that reason, could never carry a full conversation without getting sweaty palms.
“Good morning.” He greeted you first. “Quiet night?”
You nodded, entering the info you needed to check his vehicle out of the system. You wanted to say something, anything. Nerves got the best of you, and you excused yourself into the back room to get his car keys. On your way out, you held them up. “I’ll have your car here momentarily.”
Ignis didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at you. His attention was on his phone, a corner of his mouth curled upward.
You paused, taking in the smirk with shy curiosity. That was a new look. What was he smirking at? When he seemed to remember himself, he schooled the look and met your eyes. Startling, you repeated yourself quietly and went through the doors leading to the parking garage.
Ignis’ car consistently smelled like coffee wrapped in leather. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you buckled in. Because you wanted to linger in the nice scent--was this extremely weird? Yes, of course--you checked to see what the buzzing was about.
An email. You’d gotten a reply from the Feeding The Fussy chef. They’d liked your comments in the past but hadn’t addressed your obvious jokes. You stared at the subject line for a beat, then opened the message.
Thank you for the review. Almost as insightful as last week’s eight hundred word description of your current diet and how my recipes conflict. Do you have any suggestions on how to improve this one?
Your nervousness grew so heavy, it burst in bright red over your face, a flame in your chest. The chef was talking to you. You’d chalked it up to luck that they understood your sense of humor and the intent of your comments. Never had you thought they’d give more than a like. You typed a response before getting back to work.
Pro tip: Using a microwave is faster than the oven. Also, I’ve begun a new diet (details to follow), so is there any way to make this recipe without the ingredients?
Ignis’ car was fancy but less so than most others in the garage. You always felt a pinch of regret when pulling it up to the lobby entrance. Driving a car like his just to see how fast it could go, it wasn’t something you’d ever get to do. You didn’t own one yourself, and truthfully, you'd only gotten a driving license to be qualified for this job. Getting out, you waved at Ignis and extended an arm toward the open driver’s seat.
Tip passing from his hand to your own, you bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. He thanked you, getting into his car. You waited for him to drive away, likely the last person you’d see this shift.
“Ah, pardon me,” Ignis startled you by climbing back out, the car door hanging open. He held something out to you. “I believe you dropped this.”
You looked at your phone in his hand, your eyes wide, nervousness becoming embarrassment. Quickly grabbing it, you bowed again. “Sorry.”
Ignis chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Good thing I noticed when I did.”
Nodding emphatically, you wished he’d just go before you humiliated yourself further.
Clearly not reading your mind, he lingered a moment longer. “In truth, I--”
“Have a good day, sir.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him and hadn’t expected him to say more.
He cleared his throat and smiled. “Same to you.” Thanking you again, by name this time, he left.
Back in the quiet lobby, you put his tip with the rest you’d made that night. You sat behind the desk and buried your face in your hands. The sting of feeling stupid in front of Ignis was abated by the underlying excitement that came from talking to the chef you admired.
They specialized in meals for picky eaters, which you were. They used clear directions, so they could be followed by an amateur chef, which you really were. They sometimes added personal anecdotes spiced with sarcasm and dry jokes to the recipe’s background, which made you feel safe to comment. You refrained from checking your inbox, content to wait until you were home to see if they’d replied yet.
Two attendants arrived for the day shift, and as you hitched the strap of your bag over a shoulder, readying to leave, one of them told you to wait.
“You should pick up a new nametag before your next shift.”
Glancing down at your uniform, you remembered you’d lost yours several days ago. “Oh, right. I will.”
You stepped into an elevator, pressing the button for the metro station level. New nametag. Dumb. You had your work badge but still required a tag. How else would the Citadel inhabitants know who to thank for fetching their expensive cars? You rolled your eyes at the thought, already annoyed. You’d have to come to work early to pick it up. Was it too soon to quit and attend culinary school? You needed to make a bit more money first. Ignis tipped large bills, but still, it’d take years of picking his car up every morning before you could afford tuition.
Grinning to yourself, you weaved through the incoming morning crowds and boarded a train home. It had felt nice, hearing Ignis say your name on his way out. He was the only person who ever addressed you, so maybe getting a new tag was worth it for that alone. Ignis was just-- He truly-- You really liked when he came down, that was all.
It didn’t strike you for another several hours, as you filled out the online request for a new Citadel employee nametag, that Ignis must’ve remembered your name. You supposed a great memory was probably just another part of his polite demeanor. That’s what you told yourself, at least, to keep your crush from growing. You didn’t even know the man.
You attempted the chef’s latest recipe, and as it cooled, you--very casually and not nervously at all--checked to see if they’d replied.
I’ll keep that tip in mind. As for your question, I recommend the following replacement recipe: brew a cup of coffee or tea, sit somewhere comfortable, and enjoy the beverage knowing your comments haunt me whenever I cook.
You read and reread the message, then laughed into a hand. Worth the wait. You ate a bite directly from the dish on your counter, huffing through the fresh heat with mild regret. They deserved a genuine review after such honesty, but it seemed you were doing little more than burning the roof of your mouth. So you took a picture of the food, offering a thumbs up with one hand in frame, and sent it as a reply.
The next night you worked, Ignis arrived much earlier than expected--before midnight, no less. He was coming in rather than going out. Another man was with him, someone blonde and unfamiliar. Ignis opened the back to retrieve something, turning you down when you offered to get it for him. The blonde man, his smile sincere but awkward, complimented your shoes.
“Thanks.” You didn’t really know what to say. People chatting with you was uncommon.
“They match your uniform’s tie… thing.” The blonde man was red in the face. Someone needed to tell him he didn’t have to make small talk. You were just a valet. He persisted, his smile broad. “It’s nice, y’know. You’re, like, coordinated and stuff.”
“Prompto.” Ignis closed the back and proffered a piece of luggage toward the other man. “Leave her be.” When the man took the bag from him, Ignis gave you the car keys. “I apologize for my friend. He can’t contain himself around beautiful women. Add inebriation, and he’s a lost cause.”
You gripped the keys tightly, taking in everything with a slow nod. Yes, of course, right. All of that made sense. Ignis was bringing a drunk friend into the palace. Normal Ignis stuff.
“Do you think Cor’s gonna be mad at me?” the blonde asked Ignis, walking backwards from the car toward the lobby doors. “Iggy, what if Cor gets mad at me?”
Ignis rolled his eyes, a hand checking his inner jacket. “A tad late to worry about that. Go directly to the barracks and try to sleep it off.”
“Where are the barracks again?”
Ignis’ chest broadened with a sigh, and he left the guy hanging. Withdrawing a money clip, he held it out to you. “For your trouble.”
You hesitated taking it. The outer bill appeared to be 1,000 yen, and it was several notes thick… More than the usual tip. You took it slowly, fingertips brushing his leather covered palm, and murmured a quiet thanks.
Ignis remained, his hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn’t as put together as you were used to. Your eyes trailed downward, now noticing the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Huh.
He cleared his throat and began, “There’s something I--”
“C’mon, Iggy!” The blonde man held one of the entrance doors wide open. “If I knew Cor was gonna be mad anyway, I would’ve stayed at Noct’s.”
Ignis gave you a hasty farewell, already walking away to push the blonde man through the door. They disappeared inside, leaving an awkward wake of silence. You settled into Ignis’ coffee-and-leather scented car, a realization hitting you late, as they tended to do. Had Ignis implied you were beautiful? You didn’t entertain the thought for long. Ignis was a professional, royal something-or-other. He would never. You were reading too much into it. Surely.
On the walk from Ignis’ parking spot back to the lobby, you checked for the latest message from the chef. You’d boldly given them your number in a DM when the comment thread became unbearably long. You hadn’t held out hope of receiving a message and read their initial text at least ten times in disbelief before responding and saving the number.
Was this a new friendship? You hoped so.
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sykilik101 · 3 years
Text
Moments With You
There's no such thing as coincidence. I don't believe for a second anyone else besides her was supposed to be there that day. Fishing and owning a bike that just happened to have a Pikachu-sized basket?
We were meant to meet.
xxxxx
"Sorry I'm late!"
We'd already been traveling together for a few months now, and I'd gotten a pretty good idea of who Misty was. Quick to anger, an unwavering sense of right and wrong, and a love of water Pokémon that even I couldn't hope to match. We were past the point of simple acquaintances and could now be considered friends, but there were sides to Misty I had yet to learn about.
One of those was her with her hair down.
Her voice pulled me from my PokéDex, a speechlessness overtaking me as Pikachu's gleeful exclamation blended with the music and crowd. Everything in the background was blurry from the lantern smoke and lights, but Misty standing in her pink kimono, fan in hand, was immediately seared into my mind. For a second I was reminded of when I'd seen Giselle at that Pokémon Tech place we'd visited; she was pretty in that "make my face warm" way. I'd never gotten that feeling from Misty before, but now-
"Come on, Ash, let's dance!"
Her hand found its way into mine, and a dizzying warmth accompanied the softness of her fingers. My voice trembled a bit as I agreed, and with her extended invitation to Pikachu I couldn't help but laugh. She pulled me onto the dance floor with an infectious jubilance that suited her better than I could have thought. It was the first time that the two of us, together, whittled the hours away in the company of food, dancing, and a budding best friendship.
That was also the first time I felt soon-to-be-familiar nerves in my stomach around her.
xxxxx
"Okay."
"Right."
Traveling through a foggy forest towards a town that was supposedly home to ghost Pokémon didn't have the same energy as "summer festival," but at least I was holding Misty's hand again. It was Brock's idea, which was the perfect excuse for me to hold hers for longer than a few seconds. Even with my glove in the way, the tips of my fingers pressed into her skin, and I felt an abnormal heat surge through my cheeks. I wondered if I could convince the others that we should come through this forest on the way back.
I'd held out my hand to Brock so he wouldn't get lost; leave it to him to grab Pikachu's tail and ruin the moment.
xxxxx
"What are you two doing here?"
At this stage of our friendship, it was easier to hide any displays of enamorment behind a curt answer or a crude decision. I'd had enough practice with starting arguments after being caught staring, but I still hadn't gotten many opportunities to compliment her while maintaining plausible deniability. It was next to impossible to say something like "Your eyes are pretty" inconspicuously, so any chance I could get to say something about her, even hidden behind sarcasm or jokes, was something I wouldn't let go to waste.
I wasn't sure why Misty even agreed to help Melvin out in the first place. Misty's not an especially kind person, so agreeing to be some magician's assistant, in a Goldeen dress of all things, would definitely be high on my "things Misty would never do" list. Despite that, I couldn't help but think that she looked really...really pretty. Like, "the Maiden's Peak festival" pretty, but this time, I wanted to tell her. Hiding a compliment behind an annoying tone sounded like a good idea, and since starting an argument with her was easiest when she was in a flustered state, this was the perfect cover for me to say-
"That's a real cute outfit, Misty."
Surprisingly, I managed to keep a straight face and not stutter my words, despite inexperience threatening to wipe away the snarky tone I was going for. I was ready for the verbal retaliation she was famous for, but the sudden complaints of the audience demanding a show was a welcomed distraction. Taking a front row seat I savored the feeling of victory at having been able to call Misty cute and not end up with her mallet on my head.
It's too bad she didn't put her hair down for the outfit, though...
xxxxx
Every story I've heard of mermaids says that they're always extremely beautiful. Mermaids probably aren't real, but I think Misty is making me a believer.
xxxxx
"Careful, Ash, all that food can make your belly as big as your head."
I like that we're now at the point where her teasing comments are all in good fun. Of course, even if it wasn't, nothing was gonna bring my mood down. I'd already won my first two rounds, and I even got to eat for free thanks to a fan of mine. After having not had a meal for the entire day, all Pikachu and I wanted was to dig in.
Misty's company wasn't unwelcomed, either.
I wanted to answer her, but she happened to catch me mid-chew. My response was automatic and ready, but before I swallowed, a thought came to me. It was a nickname I'd thought about before, and I'd never found the right moment (or courage) to try it out. However, my post-battle elation made my worries feel insignificant, and I figured even if she didn't like it, I could brush it off as me just being too happy about my success to care.
"Thanks, Mist, but I can't help it! I got all this food for free! That's 'cause she happens to be a big fan of mine!"
Mist. I like the way it sounds, and the fact that she didn't immediately get that Misty eye twitch means she didn't dislike it. Although, maybe it's 'cause I'm so used to calling her Misty, but Mist feels a bit...awkward. Almost like how you'd call your girlfriend a cute nickname.
...Misty as my girlfriend...
"Ash, everybody in the Pokémon League gets to eat here for free."
So much for the fan of mine. I think, maybe, I'll keep Mist in my back pocket for future use, when it feels right to give her such a cute nickname.
xxxxx
"You're crazy!"
"Crazy is right! Never in a million years!"
She didn't have to deny it that hard...
xxxxx
"You and I will be married someday, too."
"Mhm…"
I didn't really register what Misty had said right away. My thoughts were more focused on how we were going to stay overnight in this park and hearing this girl - Temacu, was it? - talk about marrying Brock. For some reason I half-expected Brock to be going along with her imagination; after all, wasn't he always talking about cute girls and how he'd want to be with them? Did he not consider Temacu cute? Maybe he just doesn't want to marry her right after meeting her. I guess that makes sense. It would be kinda weird to want to marry someone if you're not in-
...wait, her and I, married?
"Huh?!"
I recognized that look in her eyes. Throughout our travels, anytime Misty messed up or said something she didn't mean to, her eyes always did that same thing; I could practically hear her screaming "I didn't say anything!" in her head.
The thing is, she did say it, and my brain started spinning all sorts of ideas on what she was implying by that. She could have just meant, in the future, I'd be married and she'd be married, but not to each other. That'd probably be just what she'd say if I brought it up. But...what if she was actually thinking that her and I would be married to each other? Was that something Misty thought about? Would she want to marry me?
Temacu's dad showed up, and after some talking we were invited to stay at their house instead of the park. I should have been more excited at being able to sleep in a bed instead of my sleeping bag, but Misty's response kept replaying in my mind. Even if her words hadn't registered to me right away, her voice had been calm with a bit of that daydreamy tone she used once in a while. I couldn't remember her sounding like that when talking about me.
Having packed our camping gear back up, our group began heading into the town. Brock and Temacu lead the way, with her dad shortly behind, and Misty and I bringing up the rear. As we walked I stole a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She seemed lost in a thought, her hands absentmindedly rocking Togepi to and fro as the little Pokémon looked on the brink of a nap. Eventually her gaze caught mine and she turned towards me.
"Is something the matter, Ash?"
I could ask her right now. With the others ahead of us, we had the privacy to have such a conversation. It wasn't a hard question at all. Were you really thinking about us two being married together? My mouth started to open, but something about the way she looked at me held my voice back. If I was wrong, it would just end in another argument, which would fit the status quo between her and I like usual.
But, deep down, I think I couldn't handle the idea of us fighting about marrying each other.
I needed more time to see how she felt about me. I'd spent enough time with an erratic heartbeat around her to know where I stood, but something about not knowing how she felt about this scared me enough to close my mouth, turning back towards the others.
"It's nothing."
Maybe her and I would be married someday. First, however, I needed to find out if she even liked me the way I liked her.
xxxxx
"Will I...see you again?"
"You will. I swear."
The dirt was quieter now, disturbed by two feet rather than six. The road from Viridian City to Pallet Town was familiar to me; the loneliness wasn't. The tears had subsided, but the ache in my chest was still as strong as ever as I slowly trekked down the dusty road.
I'd been ready to tell her. The mood had been perfect, if a bit more somber than I would have hoped for. Shades of purple and orange painted the sky, the sunset burning to match her hair. There was no hint of teasing or malice in the air, and the bike stationed by her side felt nostalgic; it made me think of how far we'd come since the first time I'd taken it from her. That time together, however, had come to an end, as a phone call from her sisters had sent us our separate ways.
However, it wouldn't last forever.
The handkerchief felt soft in my hands, wrapped around the bento Brock had given me. The corners were tied up perfect and sweetly, as if she'd done this for me a million times before. Her fingers had moved so effortlessly to fold the cloth, knot it tightly before offering it to me. What she'd really given me wasn't just tangible, and I think we both knew that. I know I can be a little dense, and I usually let my optimism take over when I'm unsure of something, but I think I got the message pretty clearly this time. In that moment, I could see exactly what I was looking for in Misty's eyes. Even if I hadn't said anything, I felt like she knew what I wanted to tell her.
There was something she wanted to tell me, too.
My heart, still deflated, skipped as a flush clawed its way up my face. I could be crazy and wrong on a million levels, but I'm pretty sure she feels the same way. Even if I'm either, or both...I can tell her now. Maybe I don't need a perfect moment or the right words, but I'll be ready when I see her again. She'd found her way into my life once before, and she'll do it again.
After all, there's no such thing as coincidence.
______________________________________________________
I gave myself permission to be less “strict” about trying to write Ash in character, deciding I’d let myself kinda run wild with maybe using words or descriptions you might not expect from him. This was fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed it.
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nik-the-bik · 3 years
Text
“Acts of Service” Jekyll & Utterson Fluff Fic
Y’all want Henry Jekyll/Gabriel Utterson University Roommates Fluff?
Well it doesn’t matter because you’re sure as hell going to get it.
This was going to be like...500 words and then I overshot that to hell. Critiques appreciated.
*****
If there was one thing Gabriel Utterson was good at, it was exuding a high level of pure Christian kindness and service to everyone, and especially for a very flummoxed Henry Jekyll.
Like when Gabriel made coffee and made an extra cup for Henry, just the way he likes it.
Or when Gabriel had laundry to put away and noticed the pile of clothes on Henry’s side of the room, so he hung up his shirts too.
When Gabriel was rushing off to an early morning class and Henry was still sound asleep, but on his way out the door Gabriel took a moment to put the books and papers Henry had left scattered the night before in a neat pile on his desk.
Henry had never asked him to do any of these things. They were never expected. But Gabriel was just…Gabriel. Ever the perfect gentleman, Gabriel Utterson went out of his way for others simply out of a sense of duty.
The only annoying part was that Gabriel refused to let Henry repay any favors. Henry would offer to buy a meal or a round of drinks as a thank you, but Gabriel would staunchly refuse time and time again with a shake of the head and a shy, embarrassed grin, hating being fussed over. Henry tried repaying him in tiny unasked favors as well, but he never did seem to be quite as attentive to those things as Gabriel.
So whenever Henry Jekyll noticed that his discarded dinner plate had been picked up when his back had been turned, or when Gabriel bought extra of Henry’s favorite grapes at the shop, or when he came home to find his missing sock sitting neatly with its companion in his drawer, he felt his heart pick up speed and his face grow hot with—what was it? Anger? Irritation?
He wasn’t mad—not even really annoyed. He appreciated the little gestures, certainly, but he was frustrated. Why did Gabriel insist on going to the trouble to do these things for Henry? Did he think Henry couldn’t take care of himself? Was Gabriel annoyed by Henry’s less organized living habits? Henry had been extremely apologetic for his messier habits when they first started sharing their tiny room together, and Gabriel had always insisted that he wasn’t bothered by it at all.
These weren’t acts of passive aggression either. Henry was positive that Gabriel was completely incapable of it. Each time Henry noticed these favors he made a point to emphasize his thanks to his friend, and Gabriel would reply with a warm “You’re Welcome” or “Oh, it’s nothing!” that was overwhelmingly genuine—not a note of sarcasm or even cold formality about it. Instead his eyes sparkled with such kindness and he’d smile so tenderly that Henry felt all coherency abandon him and his whole body would tense in alarm.
So why? Why did Gabriel do these things? Was he truly that selfless of a human being? Years of cynicism had convinced Henry that no one was truly selfless, that any handout came with a price, but with Gabriel… he had always been giving. Always. Even years ago when they were small children chasing one another while their fathers smoked in the parlor and discussed their shared business interests, Gabriel was always the first to share a toy, first to volunteer for chores, and second to take any kind of treat offered to the boys, allowing Henry to have first pick instead.
The unwarranted kindness set Henry on edge. Not only was it completely inexplicable, but each small gesture felt like it was piling on top of the last to amount to a large debt that Henry owed Gabriel, a debt that he was never allowed to repay.
Some nights the pressure of Gabriel’s caring weighed on Henry’s mind and refused to let him rest. He thoroughly enjoyed living with Gabriel—the two young men got along exceptionally—but kindness and warmth were not things that Henry was used to, and at nights when his mind lingered on his friend’s acts of quiet, unspoken affection, Henry felt a hot, fuzzy feeling overtake him and make him utterly restless, leaving him squirming in his own bed and all too aware of the gentle breathing coming from the bed on the other side of the room.
It was agonizing. Enough was enough.
It was time for a debt to be repaid—properly—and for Henry’s conscience to leave him be.
But how?
It was a stray comment in the early hours of the morning that finally gave Henry the burst of inspiration he needed.
Never quite falling asleep the night before, he heard Gabriel wake up and prepare himself for his earliest classes—poor Gabriel had one day a week where he was up at the crack of dawn and in class all day, while Henry’s schedule for the day only had him spending an hour in a lab, two tops. Shuffling about their tiny room and collecting his books, Henry heard Gabriel softly muttering little reminders to himself.
“I really need to dust some of these shelves.”
Henry’s attention was drawn instantly. As Gabriel made his way out the door, stopping to pick up Henry’s fallen coat and put it back on the rack, Henry was already planning out his day.
He’d clean the room.
All of it.
The two kept the space as tidy as they could, but in the months since they moved in together, neither one had taken the time to pull out a mop, a bucket of soap, a broom, or anything that would really give the space a proper cleaning.
After his lab class this morning, Henry could run back and begin tidying up. It was perfect. It would make up for all the tiny little messes Henry usually left in his wake, and for all the times Gabriel would silently follow behind and straighten up on his behalf.
He’d make a shiny, good-as-new room to come home to, and perhaps a pot of Gabriel’s favorite tea as well.
Leaving his class early that day, Henry began gathering his supplies. With a slight spring in his step, he imagined Gabriel’s delighted face as he came home to a spotless bedroom, his favorite tea ready on his desk, Henry calmly sipping at his own cup, book in hand, casually accepting his friend’s thanks and never betraying that his heart danced in his chest with the praise.
It took about 12 seconds after coming back to the room for Henry to realize he didn’t really have the slightest idea where to start with his project.
He’d never really had to clean before.
Staring at the small rectangular room, he wasn’t sure if he should start with the floors, the beds, the dresser—was he supposed to wipe down the windows?
Arms still laden with feather dusters, rags, and a bucket of sudsy water, he decided he might as well start at the far corner of the room and work his way forward. He’d figure things out as he went along. How hard could it be?
Apparently harder than he thought.
He had started with taking the duster to any surface he could reach and was disappointed to discover that despite being over six feet tall, Henry still couldn’t quite reach the top of the molding that trimmed the walls of the room. He had also bumped the bucket of water, sending some of it splashing over the side and onto the rug laid next to his bed. He’d probably have to hang that to dry. He’d get to that later, though.
When trying to scrub the floor, he realized he couldn’t quite reach all the way underneath the dresser, even when on his hands and knees. He pulled it away from the wall and exposed a lovely line of dust and dirt—an outline that separated where the dresser once stood blocking the pristine wall from the grime that plagued the rest of it. Did that mean Henry would have to clean the wall too?
He finally made his way to Gabriel’s portion of the room, carving a disheveled but (mostly) disinfected path behind him, and he came to the realization that he’d probably have to move some of Gabriel’s belongings to properly clean everything.
That presented an issue. Henry was doing all of this as a favor for Gabriel, and he didn’t want to inadvertently move something important and create an inconvenience instead. He’d have to carefully study where all his things were and make sure that everything was perfectly replaced afterward. Tearing out a spare piece of paper, he started sketching the general layout of the books and supplies that sat upon Gabriel’s desk, making notes for when he’d have to put everything away. He couldn’t explain why he felt his cheeks grow hot at the thought of Gabriel finding this little sketch, but he knew he would feel foolish he ever did. Maybe he was embarrassed that he was just bad at this whole cleanliness thing.
Feeling satisfied with his little map for later, Henry began picking up the books and notes and papers that lay on the desk. As he turned to move them to the empty bed, he bumped the bucket again and this time stumbled sending half the books and all of the loose papers in his arms across the floor. Panicking because the floor was still damp, Henry began scrambling to pick everything up before--
“What’s all this?”
Gabriel.
He was home. Early. Standing at the door’s threshold, bag still slung over his shoulder, Gabriel was gaping at him, cheeks growing red.
Henry, still on all fours, became all too aware of how incriminating this all looked and felt his heart sink.
“Gabriel! I--I’m sorry, I’m…cleaning.”
“Is that what you call it, then?”
Was Gabriel accusing him of—no! No, no, this was bad! This was not how this was supposed to go!
Henry sprang up, heart pounding. Before he could begin sputtering out an explanation, he noticed that Gabriel had dropped his bag, and there was an unusual gleam in his eye.
Gabriel must be thinking Henry was trying to spy on him by rifling through his belongings, or rob him, or-
He needed to answer for himself. Immediately.
“Yes! Well…it started as cleaning. I felt it was my turn to repay the favor to you, since you’re always tidying up after me. I decided to clean the whole room, and when I went to dust off your shelves and your desk, I needed to move everything off, but then I also wanted to be positive that I put everything away exactly the way you had it before, but when doing so I dropped a couple of your notebooks and your papers went—”
His thoughts came to a halt when Gabriel started to laugh.
Please, anything but that.
But it wasn’t a mocking laugh. No, it was warm and jovial, and Henry brought himself to raise his eyes and noticed that Gabriel was blushing deeply, a shy grin on his face that kickstarted Henry’s already frantic heart and left him feeling breathless.
“I swear I wasn’t trying to snoop through your belongings, Gabriel,” Henry said sheepishly, gesturing to the small stock of cleaning supplies that lay strewn across the room.
“Of course not, I know you would never--”
“And I’m sorry I just wound up making a mess of your things instead,” he said, his own face hot.
Gabriel cleared his throat and straightened himself up a bit.
“Well, why don’t you let me help you with that, then?”
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Note
do you still take prompts?? i would love a lou and reid “kissing in public” one 🥺❤️
I’m always taking prompts! This came in such a good time because I have been trying to write a smutty Loureid scene and is just not coming out the way I want, so the break from it to write some fluff was blessed. Hope you like it!
Word count: 1800 
PDA
--
Reid wasn’t a social butterfly, Louise knew that.
And it never really bothered her, not really. She loved her boyfriend the way he was— quiet, brooding and intimidatingly smart. Reid was loving and caring for her in the privacy of their apartments or their friends’ apartments. He had a complete soft spot for her and, the few times someone did see him smiling in public, it was usually at Lou.
Despite hating large gatherings, Reid would always go parties with Lou. He wanted to make sure she was safe all the time, and he knew Lou wanted him there. His presence was never a bother, always a soothing company. Lou could get extremely drunk and Reid would be there. She could not drink at all and he would be there. She could go to spend hours in that party or only five minutes and he would always gladly follow her.
He wouldn’t dance or even talk to that many people, and although his eyes would never leave her body while she danced.
Lou couldn’t really complain about her handsome boyfriend staring at her dancing as if he was going to devour her.
As she said, Reid’s personality didn’t bother her one tiny bit.
But apparently his behavior annoyed the hell out of him.
“Good morning.” Lou said lazily, padding out of Reid’s bedroom. He was sitting with his back to her at the table but she could notice how tense his body was. Lou walked up to him, hugging him from behind. His body immediately relaxed, and she pressed a few kisses to his neck. “Did you wake up too long ago?”
“No.” He said, pulling her around the chair so she could sit on his lap. He gave her a quick kiss before Lou turned to the table to grab a toast and put some grape jam on it. “Maybe half an hour ago? I didn’t want to wake you.”
Lou merely hummed, taking a bite of her toast. She offered it to Reid but he gave her a shake of his head, gesturing to an enormous cup of coffee by the table. “That much coffee will kill you one day.”
He laughed, but it was clipped. Lou fully turned to him, analyzing his features. Reid was the tallest man she had ever seen, so even on his lap she had to look up at his face. Ivory skin, deep cobalt eyes and coppery hair, the sharp lines constructing his face could have landed him in a model agency if Reid wasn’t such an academic. His features that were usually relaxed when it was only the two of them appeared tense.
Lou raised an eyebrow, smoothing the crease between his brows. “What happened, Chass?”
“Do you regret dating me?”
Lou blinked. “What?”
He sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. “I’m not really your type, Lou.”
Reid knew about her ex boyfriends. Knew that they were all as social and open as she was, but Lou never thought that it was something that bothered Reid or even made him think that he wasn’t her type. She liked smart, loyal men. Liked someone trustworthy and that would always be able to match her sarcasm and jokes with sarcasm and jokes of his own. Reid was perfect for her.
“Of course you are my type.” She said as if stating the obvious. “Why all this now?”
He sighed again and turned his head, ignoring her gaze. “Yesterday…”
“Oh. Oh.” Lou said, her gaze softening. They had been to a party yesterday, and everything was going as always. She had talked to everyone and Reid was content to just observe his girlfriend on her habitat. Everyone liked Lou, he knew, and it gave him enormous satisfaction to know that despite his reserves she had fallen for him as hard as he had fallen for her. He was thinking about that the night before when he watched a guy approach Lou from behind and start dancing with her. She immediately got away, saying something to the guy and then pointing at Reid’s direction.
The man looked Reid up and down, then Lou. And then he snorted and Reid could see his mouth forming the word “Him?”. Lou nodded, and the guy laughed again but left.
“No one understands how we’re together, Lou. Some don’t even believe. And there’s a fucking reason for that.” He looked back at her, his expression almost pained. “You couldn’t be more social if you tried, and if I tried to be more recluse, I wouldn’t even leave the apartment. I— I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”
“You don’t fucking hold me back.” Her voice was harsh. She knew she should be nicer to Reid right now, it wasn’t really his fault he had insecurities about their relationship. She did too. “And the same way you think that, I do too. But I know it’s stupid because I love you and you love me and that’s all it matters. We never cared about other people’s opinions on our relationship. Let’s not start now.”
He snorted, not at all convinced.
“Would you leave me for a chemistry genius? The type of girl who can probably resolve problems in record time, undoubtedly watches those boring ass documentaries you do and most definitely has won about twenty seven awards on her field?”
“No, of course not. I would never leave you”
“Then why the hell would I leave you for someone that’s more like me?” She crossed her eyes and stared at him.
He stared right back, his features relaxing little by little. Lou never knew Reid even thought of these things. He had never even as much hinted jealously or doubt in their relationship and Lou was terrified that this would make him break up with her because he would think that he was doing the best for her. As much as Reid was a science genius, his grasp on other people’s emotions was a disaster.
“I love you, Reid. Part of me has loved you since the first time we met through Beau and you blurted out what my name meant when I introduced myself.” His cheeks became a rosy pink and Lou smiled. “You’re the best I could ever hope for. Your personality never bothered me, and if you decided to never go to a party again it wouldn’t bother me either.”
He nodded, resting his face on the crook of her neck and taking a deep breath. Lou’s arms came around his shoulders, and she just hugged him.
“I love you too, you know.” He murmured against her skin.
Lou smiled broadly, turning back to the table to eat another toast. “Of course I know.”
The rest of the day went by without too much problem. They spent the whole Saturday together at his apartment, eventually ordering food because Reid didn’t feel like cooking and Lou was a disgrace in the kitchen. When the night came and Coco swept by to pick Lou up to a party at Beau’s fraternity, Reid accompanied both women regardless of Lou’s earlier statement. He usually took care of Coco as much as he took care of Lou. And also Beau.
“Coco.” He said and Lou’s best friend smiled at her boyfriend. Coco and Reid had became close friends after he and Lou started dating. “Looking dashing. I’m sorry for my brother.”
Coco laughed at Reid while looping an arm through Lou’s. “I’m sorry for him too.” Coco chirped. Her and Beau had been playing that strange game of theirs for years now to Reid and Lou’s immeasurable entertainment.
When they arrived at the house, Coco left Lou with Reid to find Beau. Ansel wasn’t coming today, having an anatomy test tomorrow. Reid offered to help him study, but Ans just brushed him off and told him to go have fun with his girlfriend.
Lou expected Reid to go to his usual spot while she combed through the party, but instead he surprisingly slid his hand into her and took a step closer. Lou didn’t comment anything on it, but she would certainly bring it up later. He followed her around as she greeted people. She stopped to talk to a few, gesturing with a hand to the man behind her and introducing him as her boyfriend. As much as Reid wasn’t one for social interactions with strangers, he couldn’t help but be happy at the smile on Lou’s face every time she introduced him or got comment such as “You are such a pretty couple!”.
When even she tired of greeting everyone, she dragged Reid to the bar, grabbing one of those red cups filled with cheap beer. She offered one to Reid, but he merely shook his head and bent down to whisper on her ear. “I’m the DD tonight, baby. Can’t drink.”
“You’re always the DD.” She pouted but didn’t insist further. “I would be majorly pissed if I was always the DD.”
He laughed and pulled her to one of the armchairs near the beer pong. He sat down, looking at her standing in front of him a second before pulling her close to his lap.
“You were never one for PDA, Chass.” She mused against his ear so he could hear her voice clearly. His hands were on her hips, and she rested against his chest, one arm around his shoulders.
“I was going to let you roam around like the social butterfly you are as per usual.” He also said against her ear. “But you seemed so happy by holding my hand and introducing me to your friends that now I think I’ll keep you here for the rest of the night.”
She laughed, taking a sip of her beer. It tasted like piss as always.
“So I have the green light for PDA tonight?” She asked, smiling against his ear.
She could hear him snorting, one of his hands going up and down her back. “I am yours, Louise le Blanc.”
Her smile widened, and she pulled back to look at Reid. Even among this many people, he seemed for the first time completely relaxed. Reid wasn’t one for holding hands in public, or constantly hugging or kissing. She didn’t want him to change but it was so good being able to show her boyfriend off.
“Well,” she said leaning in. “Let me enjoy you then.”
His smile was as big as hers when she touched her lips to him. It wasn’t anything as hot or deep as they usually did in their apartments, but not even Lou would be comfortable doing that in public. No, the kisses were sweet and soft, and Lou couldn’t stop smiling as Reid kissed her through the night, completely at ease with her in his arms.
Tags:
@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling
(If you only want to be tagged on TOG fics please tell me and I will take you out of the general list!)
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pilyarquitect · 3 years
Note
2-6-18-27-51-62 McDuck and Gyro
2-6-18-27-51-62 McDuck and Gyro
“Just a few details more and it’s done.”
Five minutes later, Gyro took a few steps back wiping sweat from his forehead. It was finally done! A huge smile appeared on his beak.
“Okay, this little baby is officially one of my best inventions.”
Lil bulb looked angrily at his inventor. How could he say such a thing? It was he his best invention, not this… thing.
Gyro guessed what Lil-bulb was thinking. His little helper had a lot of bad temper after all... like him…
“I repeat, one of my best inventions, NOT the best. You’re really much better than this.”
He looked at Lil-bulb while pointing his last invention. Lil-bulb seemed convinced at least for now. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to destroy it. Something that would make Gyro really, really, really angry. He wanted to Mr. McDuck to see his invention before it explodes, get destroyed or something happens to it. Mr. McDuck… gyro was well aware he was just Scrooge’s number one scientist. He even blinked once to Magica referring at him just as a employee. This is how Mr. McDuck saw him… not even a good friend… he had nobody close he could call… friend, he only had his inventions and a rich boss.
The elevator door opened suddenly. Gyro was surprised to hear that sound. Who could be there? He knew it couldn’t be his intern, er- Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera, since the Hispanic duck was doing Gizmoduck things. Also, it couldn’t be Manny since the horse was in a Training Course. Maybe it was the red nephew. This duckling was a little science lover… a great science lover, actually.
Okay, the only way to know who was there was turning to look at the elevator. Gyro did this and who he was there, was the last person he expected. In front of his eyes, there was Scrooge McDuck, standing there and looking at him with a stoic expression in his face.
“Mr. McDuck?”
“Gyro,”
The chicken looked away, not sure of what to say next. He really didn’t expect to see his boss there. Surely Scrooge visited him sometimes, but it wasn’t usual for him to do it.
“Sorry for my daring, but what are you doing here?” he finally asked. Scrooge tiddled his head and his face showed slight confusion to what Gyro had just asked.
His eyes suddenly opened and scratched the back of his neck shyly.
“Oh, Fenton told me ye were working on a new invention, and I thought to come here and see how were ye going.” He admitted.
Gyro raised an eyebrow while crossing his arms over his chest. Scrooge McDuck almost never went down to his lab. Why was different this time?
“Really? I usually come to show my inventions to you,”
Scrooge seemed a little confused. Gyro couldn’t blame him, Mr. McDuck didn’t know what was on his mind after all.
“Yeah, well, I thought I could save ye this little travelling.” The old duck admitted finally.
Save or spend money… this is all what seemed to be important for the rich duck. Gyro couldn’t avoid to have his sarcasm shining with this situation.
“Wow, nice detail, for your employee…”
“Wait, what now?”
Gyro frowned while looking a completely surprised Scrooge. Would he have to explain even the most obvious things? Sometimes it sucked to be one of the cleverest minds in the world.
His voice came out maybe harder than he would want it to let be out.
“Oh, come on M. McDuck, you said once, I’m just your employee, not even a good friend.”
Scrooge’s eyes opened in shock, he seemed to be trying to remember when did he said that… well technically speaking, Scrooge didn’t say it, but he blinked twice to Magica! One blink, good friend, two blinks, just a employee, and Scrooge blinked two times. It was obvious what he thought about Gyro. Mr. McDuck seemed to finally remember, judging by his face expression.
“What? Wait, are ye talking of what I said to Magica when she had me prisoner in my own dime?”
Okay, at least he remembered it. Point for Scrooge. Gyro didn’t even take the time to answer his question. He just… looked away. He felt… betrayed by his boss.
The chicken listened how Scrooge walked closer to him, but he still didn’t dare to look at him until the rich duck put a hand on his shoulder.
“Gyro, I told that to protect ye.”
Gyro looked at Scrooge with a surprised look, and the old duck just smiled back at him.
“Imagine what Magica could have done to ye if I had answered ye were a good friend.”
“Huh?” to say Gyro was speechless was an understatement. Scrooge’s smile grew. He probably was having a great time thanks to the look the chicken was giving to him right now. The next Scrooge’s words shook the scientist deeply. Those were the last word he expected to hear.
“Gyro, ye’re more than an employee, more than a good friend. Ye’re family! And right now, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you.”
“Are you serious Mr. McDuck?”
This was a joke, it has to be, some kind of trick to make him work harder in whatever Scrooge was about to ask him to work about. Mr. McDuck seemed now a little offended Gyro could doubt of what he was saying. But… to be honest, Gyro never considered himself so close to Scrooge McDuck and again, what he said to Magica – even if Scrooge assures he said that to protect him – still felt like a thorn on his heart and this was difficult to change with just a few words
“Of course, I am Gyro! Bless my bagpipes! I care about ye!”
Okay, if Gyro had doubts, he had to admit they disappeared eclipsed by the force behind Scrooge’s words. His boss seemed firmly convinced of what he was saying. Gyro studied his face for a while and couldn’t find any hint of lie on his face. So… it was true! Scrooge considered him, Gyro Gearloose, more than a friend! Gyro was stunned.
“I… I don’t know what to say… well, maybe, after what you said, just one thing, ‘If they mess with you, they’re messing with me.’”
Gyro knew what he just said was stupid, but honestly, this was a sentence he always wanted to say, and without knowing why, he thought this could be a good moment to say it… obviously, he was wrong.
Scrooge looked at him with wide eyes. He seemed… totally confused.
“They? Who’re ye referring with they?”
Gyro awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Why did he just say such stupid think? This wasn’t in any way like him! What could he say now? What answer would be convincing to prove Scrooge he was still a smart guy? His number one scientist?
Gyro took a deep break and simply answered with the truth.
“I don’t know, whoever that dares to mess with you Mr. McDuck. You were the first person who gave me a chance when I first arrived to Duckburg. You… you… you really cared about me all those years…”
Wow, it was the first time he admitted it loudly. Why didn’t he say that before?
Scrooge smiled softly. He seemed… grated to hear those words too.
“Gyro… I’ll never stop caring about you.”
“Thank you Mr. McDuck.”
Gyro couldn’t see himself, but he guessed his smile was the biggest he did ever. Was it possible to be more joyful than he was right now? He doubted it was possible.
“Ye’re welcome Gyro.” His face showed he was proud… proud of him. The rich duck looked behind Gyro. “Now, what about your invention? Have ye finished it?”
“What? Oh yes, of course. I’ve just finished it.”
Totally unexpected for both Scrooge and Gyro, the scientist let out an extremely noisy yawn. Immediately after that, Gyro could feel his cheeks heated up, which meant that he had most likely blushed. Scrooge looked at him with wide eyes. He seemed to be studying his face very cautiously.
“Gyro, ye look really tired. Maybe it’ll be good for ye to have some rest.”
“That’s not necessary Mr. McDuck, I’m perfectly fine.”
Gyro hated when whoever it was suggested he was tired and needed rest. That was ridiculous! He could take care of himself perfectly well, thank you! But… on the other hand, he had to admit he had a tendency to not really have selfcare, which turned in more occasions than he’d like to admit that he fell asleep on his desk just to wake up a few hours later with every part of his body hurting him because he didn’t sleep in a proper place.
Maybe he should bring a bed to the lab for those occasions…
“Gyro.”
“What?” the scientist was so lost on his thoughts that he didn’t realize his boss was calling him. Oh snap, he blushed again…
“Lad, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
Scrooge’s voice sounded tender and plenty of concern for him. Even that, Gyro was stubborn, not even Scrooge McDuck would defeat him.
“But I’m not-”
Another yawn even more noisily than the one before scaped from his beak. Okay… maybe he was a little more tired than he expected.
“Okay, yes, I’m tired… a little rest wont’ hurt me.” Admitted trying to sound bored and that he only accepted it because he was forced to. Scrooge smiled proudly at him again.
“Good lad.”
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omgrachwrites · 3 years
Text
Whatever You Need - Remus Lupin
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Request: ‘Hello darling! I really enjoy your writing❤️ i was wondering, if you’re open to the requests can you make either Remus, Sirius or  George Weasley x reader. But reader has vegetative vascular dystonia? It’s a common thing on the teenage years, may involve random fainting, headaches and stuff like that (at least that’s what I have). you totally don’t have to! just never seen this issue covered in the fan fictions:) thanx🤍’ @notsolong-pause​
Warnings: fluff!
Words: 1171
A/N: Thanks for the request @notsolong-pause​, I read a couple of articles on this so I really hope this is okay! And I hope it’s okay that I did it with Remus! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
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As you stared at the paragraph you had just written for your Charms essay, the words grew blurry in front of your eyes and you let out a slow deep breath as you rubbed your temples. You could feel a migraine coming on; you were just hoping that you wouldn’t get a bout of fainting to go along with it. You had been in the library for hours now working right through the first gloriously sunny day of your weekend; you preferred to get all of your schoolwork done at once because it seemed much more efficient that way.
It was also preferable for you to work in the library because the common room was much too cosy and you just knew that the crackle of the roaring fire and the plush armchairs would provide a huge distraction. You would never get anything done that way. And then, there was your boyfriend Remus, you were still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship and all you wanted to do was curl up on his lap.
You were startled when you heard footsteps and glanced up to see your boyfriend walking towards your table with a worried look on his gorgeous face, “Y/N babe, are you alright? You’ve been here all day,” he leaned his hip on the side of your table and he reached out and slid his fingers through your hair lovingly.
You smiled tiredly and leaned into his touch, “I know, I’m sorry, I wanted to get all my work done in one go. I’ll be up in the common room soon though,” you promised.
Your promise did nothing to diminish the worried look on his face, he was a worrier, so much so that you hadn’t told him about your vegetative vascular dystonia, “are you sure that you don’t want a hand? I don’t want you working yourself into the ground, it’s not healthy,” he took your hand in his own, peppering kisses along your knuckles.
You smiled at the gesture but nodded all the same, “I’m sure, I’m nearly done but thank you for offering. I definitely should have been placed in Ravenclaw,” you giggled, trying to relieve some of the tension on Remus’ face.
He grinned and leaned in to kiss you, “well, I for one am thankful every day that you were placed in Gryffindor,” he sighed, “please don’t be long.  I worry about you Y/N,” he knew it was futile to argue with you so he sweetly kissed your forehead and he made his way out of the library.
About half an hour later you stumbled through the portrait hole, you were suddenly uneasy on your feet but you were holding it together pretty well.
When you snuggled up to Remus, Sirius made a cooing noise and started talking in a sickly sweet voice, “oh look. How cute are they?” Sirius was always teasing the pair of you but you didn’t mind.You giggled while James smirked and Lily shook her head in amusement.
Remus scowled at his best friend as he pulled you closer, “bugger off Sirius.”
Both you and Remus spent the evening curled around each other, talking about nothing in particular as you traced the thin white scars on his handsome face. You stayed that way until you could barely keep your eyes open and you shuffled up to bed.
Just as you had expected, you were jolted awake by the most mind splitting headache and you instantly regretted piling on the stress that previous day. All you wanted to do was go and lie down in a dark room alone so you left a note for Lily and you made your way to The Room of Requirement. You weren’t sure for how long you were lying on the big bed in the middle of the room focused on your breathing before you heard hesitant footsteps. All you could do was groan, you just wanted to be left alone and you didn’t even glance up to see who it was.
“Y/N baby? Lily told me where you were,” Remus started hesitantly, “are you okay?” he sounded worried so you cracked open an eye to look at him. His eyebrows were knitted together but you had to admit that he did look adorable.
You sighed as you patted the space next to you, “I’ve got the worst headache ever, a great perk of having vegetative vascular dystonia,” you said, sarcasm lacing your voice.
“Huh?” Remus asked as he moved your head gently so it was resting in his lap.
You smiled at the confusion in his voice, “to put it simply, I suffer from extreme fatigue and I’m more prone to headaches and fainting spells, it’s really quite common. It’s because I piled on the stress yesterday.”
“Oh Y/N,” Remus sighed as he stroked his fingers through your hair and you almost moaned when you felt his cool hands on your forehead, “I knew that you were working yourself too hard. Can’t Madam Pomfrey help with any potions?”
You shook your head, “no, every potion that I’ve tried has not worked. Headaches are normal though, I’m just glad that I’m missing out on the joy of my usual fainting spells,” you giggled and Remus tutted.
There was comfortable silence in the room as Remus’ fingers stroked through your hair, occasionally rubbing against your temples; he was just the best boyfriend in the world. You appreciated the fact that he was here with you, he was making you feel so much better and he didn’t even know it. You blew out a deep breath as you focused on the feeling of Remus’ gentle fingers buried in your hair.
“Can I do anything to help? I want to do something to help,” he asked and you just knew that his teeth were digging in to his bottom lip.
You smiled as you took his hand and pressed a kiss to his wrist, “just keep doing what you’re doing. Please, it’s making me feel so much better.”
“Well, I’m glad,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead and you felt him smile against your skin, “how come you never told me?” he had a note of hurt in his voice and you sighed, pouting up at him.
You shrugged, “well for one, you’re like a worried mother hen,” you laughed, “and for another thing, you have other things to worry about, I didn’t want you worrying about this as well. It’s pretty normal for teenagers Remus,” you repeated.
“Baby, I don’t care how much I have to deal with; I will always have time to help you through things. Please let me.”
You nodded as you sat up and smiled at him, cupping his jaw as you leaned in to leave a lingering kiss on his lips, “thank you for being here Remus. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled as he rested his forehead against yours, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip, “I’ll always be here for you Y/N. For whatever you need.”
-------------------------------------
Marauders taglist: @notsolong-pause​ @smiithys​ @kashishwrites​ @siriusblackspam​
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obxlife · 4 years
Text
One Thing Right (Rafe x Reader)
A/N: Okay so first of all, I love Rafe. I think he’s one of the best and most complicated characters by faaaar. So I was going to write a Rafe fic eventually, but I received a message that made me say Fuck it and start writing right away. Also, I decided to use the lyrics of the song One Thing Right (Marshmello & Kane Brown) to write this soooo yeah.
Pairing: Rafe x Reader
Request: literally anything Rafe I will read it (not really a request but this is the exact message I got that made me want to write a Rafe fic)
Summary: Mainly about your relationship with Rafe and its dynamic.
Warnings: Drug use, sex, fighting, mentions of murder, swearing
ONE THING RIGHT
I’ve cheated and I’ve lied
I’ve broken down and I’ve cried
I've got nothing to hide no more
You walked into the Cameron’s house expecting to see Rafe waiting for you on the stairs as he usually did. You had been dating for over a year, and every time Rafe would send you a message asking you to hang out, he would wait on his stairs until you arrived. 
However, this time he wasn’t there. 
You could also hear muffled screams coming from the upper floors of the house, and as you walked up, you realized they came from Ward’s office. 
“What are you even doing with your life, Rafe?” you heard him scream at your boyfriend. “Where are the generators? Huh?”
You couldn’t hear Rafe’s replies, so you left the office door behind and turned towards his room. Once inside, you sat upon his king-sized bed waiting for his arrival. 
Only a couple of minutes later did he walk in. There were tears brimming his lash line, and he froze once he saw you. 
“I forgot you were coming over,” he said, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands.
“Yeah, I guessed as much,” you replied. “What was all the screaming about?”
“Just drop it, Y/N,” he tried to brush it off.
This had been occurring for a while now, where you asked Rafe a question and he would try to avoid responding. Sometimes he would just ignore it. 
“You can tell me,” you whispered to him as he lay down beside you and rubbed a hand on your thigh.
Rafe simply sighed, closing his eyes and turning away. Was he really shutting you out? Not once before had there been a secret between the both of you, and now he wasn’t even talking to you. 
Pissed off, you stood from the bed and grabbed your bag. You approached the door, but right before you touched the handle, you heard a sob come from Rafe’s lips. 
Instantly, you turned back towards him. You sat down on the mattress as softly as you could and brought out an arm to rub circles around his back. 
You stayed like this for a little while longer, until he sat up and turned towards you. He hugged you tighter than he had ever hugged anybody before. He could feel you whispering sweet nothings in his ear but he couldn’t make out a single word you said. 
All of a sudden he said, “I’ve been doing cocaine for a month.”
Your movements stopped. “What?”
Rafe pulled away, feeling how tense you were, and tried to explain himself. 
“I - I tried it a couple of weeks ago, and then I just couldn’t stop. Everything feels so fucking good when I’m high. I don’t worry about my dad or Sarah or Wheezie or anyone and I feel free. I feel no pressure from anyone.”
“What do you mean you’ve been doing cocaine?” you asked, still in complete shock.
“I - I - I just went to the Cut this one time. And I met Barry. He gives me it as long as I sell it. But I haven’t been able to sell as much as I planned, so I gave him the money I had saved. And that way I could still keep buying it.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It makes me feel free. B - but now, I have no money, and I owe Barry, and I owe my dad some generators, and - fuck. I just don’t know what to do. Y/N, I need you to help me, please.”
Anger took over you. “Help you get off of the fucking drug you’re using or help you pay back the money you owe so you can keep buying that shit?”
Rafe stuttered. “B - b - both.”
He stared at you in a pleading manner, but you were still angry at him. “Rafe, I swear to God, if you’re lying to me and you only want to pay the money back so you can buy more fucking drugs I -”
“I won’t,” he promised, cutting you off. “I just need to get back on my feet.”
You sighed, feeling sorry for him. You couldn’t just not help him. He was the love of your life, and he needed you. 
“If you are lying, Rafe, I’m going to be so angry,” you made clear as you took his hands in yours to show that you would help him. 
“I’m not, I’m not,” he assured. “I have nothing to hide from you anymore.”
I've loved and I've hurt
Broken people down with words
More grace than I deserved, for sure
“What the actual fuck, Rafe?” you asked him as you held onto the small bag filled with white powder. “You said you were going to stop.”
Rafe groaned as he heard your screams. “I know, I know. This is just a small fallback, babe.”
“Small fallback, my ass,” you continued to scream. “What are you going to do when all of your money goes down the drain because of this stuff?”
“Y/N, I’m telling you. It was just a fallback. I swear this won't happen again.”
You scoffed. This made his anger rise. “Yeah, right.”
Your sarcasm was not helping Rafe feel better about himself, and he was pissed that you, the one person he felt was supposed to support him no matter what, were angry at him. 
“Just shut the fuck up, okay?” he suddenly exploded. You immediately fell quiet. “I’m fucking trying to get my shit together, okay? So stop being a bitch about it and shut up!”
You felt as if all the wind inside of your body had been knocked out of you from a punch. You felt your heart break softly as you tried to forget what Rafe had just called you. 
Realization hit him once he saw the empty look and your eyes and the tears about to fall. He felt guilty as he attempted to take your hands in his. You pulled away. 
“Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean that. At all,” he tried to reassure you. “I was just mad at myself for having done drugs again. It isn’t you, okay?”
You believed him. You truly did. So ignoring the pain in your chest you put your hands in his. “Okay.”
“I promise,” he began, “to never do this again. I’m sorry I hurt you. Can you forgive me?”
Trying to smile at him, you felt a tear escape your eye. He brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe it away. 
“Yeah.”
Rafe, noticing that you were letting him touch you again, pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back and whispering into your ear: “You are so much more than I deserve.”
You stayed still but mentally nodded along with him. You were more than he deserved, but he would eventually become someone that deserved you with your help.
Known to be crazy, known to be wild
Mama had to suffer a little devilish child
Ain't no stranger to the troubles at my door
The party surrounding you was in full swing. 
You were sipping from a cup and you looked around at the rest of the Kooks, smiling and laughing. Their expensive clothes were similar to yours, and you tried to count all of the Rolex watches you sighted. You quickly lost count due to the fact that there were too many. 
Music was coming out from the speakers but instead of dancing, you stood to the side. You were sipping on a red solo cup filled with beer when you felt two strong hands circle your waist. 
“Hey, baby,” Rafe said into your ear. You smiled and turned towards him so you were chest to chest. 
“Hey.”
You looked over his shoulder and noticed all of his friends were accompanying him. You smiled at them as if to say hello. 
Suddenly the song changed and you recognized it as Rafe’s favorite. Gasping he turned towards his friends and began belting it out with them, all the while still latching onto your hand. 
You smiled as they became goofier with their actions as the song continued, and noticed that you hadn’t seen him smile like that in a while. 
Soon enough he was drunk and was pulling you on top of a table to dance around with him. He was the life of the party, boisterous and outgoing, and he pulled you along with him. You laughed and danced and followed his lead in regards to every single idea he had that night. From jumping from Topper’s roof into his pool, to sneaking into Topper’s parent’s room, and to smoking some weed. 
You had been drinking the whole night and excused yourself to go to the bathroom. As you went in you heard some girls gossiping about someone bringing coke to the party. At this, your ears perked up. However, they never mentioned who had brought it. 
You exited the bathroom and began to look for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. You began to grow frustrated and angry. You just wanted to make sure it wasn’t Rafe consuming the drugs. 
Finally, around an hour later, you found him. He was seated around a table that clearly had some traces of the white powder you hated. He was surrounded by his friends and a couple of random people, but when he caught your eyes he smiled. 
He walked towards you. “Hey, where were you?”
“In the bathroom,” you replied, trying to look into his eyes. 
“I missed you,” the blond said, smiling at you. Finally, you managed to look into his eyes. Fuck. His pupils were dilated. He had definitely done more than a line tonight.
You wanted to get mad, but you couldn’t. The one thing you had noticed about him tonight was that he had been extremely happy. You decided you would let it go for now. You couldn’t bear to break the smile he had right now on his face.
I've been at the wrong place at the wrong time
Chasin' all the wrong things most of my life
Been every kinda lost that you can't find
Rafe was pounding into you as you both panted. 
You had been alone in your house when you decided to invite him over, and things had quickly escalated. 
When you were both done he pulled out and lay next to you. You were still panting and relishing on what the feeling of him inside you had felt like when you turned towards him and pushed yourself onto his chest. 
You snuggled into him, ready to fall asleep. Your arms went around him, causing you to feel the hills and valleys of his muscles that covered his abdomen. 
You sighed happily.
However, Rafe was not wrapping his hand around you and instead was reaching for his phone. Barry had sent him some messages.
“Babe,” he said while trying to softly push you off of him. “I need to go.”
You frowned. “Why? I thought you said you weren’t busy.”
Fuck, Rafe thought. “Um, yeah. But Topper said he needed my help with something.”
He was lying, of course, But you believed him, pouting to show how displeased you were with him. He just laughed as he pulled his pants on. 
“I promise next time we’re gonna cuddle for a really long time,” he said, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. 
“It’s okay,” you said softly, “but I’m going to remember your promise about next time.”
Rafe laughed again and leaned down one more time to kiss you before exiting your room. A few seconds later you heard your front door close. 
You decided to shower as you felt icky all over from your previous activities with your boyfriend. Prodding into the bathroom, you turned the water on and hopped in. You scrubbed your skin and washed your hair before cutting the drain and stepping out into the steamy bathroom. 
Right when you were done getting dressed your phone rang. 
“Hello?” you said, picking up the call without looking at the caller. 
“Hey, Y/N. It’s Top.”
Why was Topper calling you? “Um, hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he assured, “I was just calling because I can’t reach Rafe. He with you?”
You were shocked. Rafe had lied to you? Where the fuck was he?
Then, everything seemed to click. He was probably at Barry’s. 
“Um, no,” you answered Topper. “Sorry.”
Topper sighed. “It’s fine. Well, anyway, talk to you later.”
Once he hung up the phone you pulled up to your text messages with Rafe.
You: Where are you?
You: And don’t lie. I know you aren’t with Topper. He called me.
You waited for his reply. However, nothing came back. He had left you on read. 
You fucking knew it. He was with Barry. Again. 
Been the kind of guy girl's mamas don't like
Runnin' with the wrong crowd on the wrong nights
'Cause I've been wrong about a million times
But I got one thing right, you
Rafe was sobbing into your chest. You were in shock, one hand in his hair and the other on his back, but both unmoving. 
Rafe had killed Sheriff Peterkin. He had really done it. You couldn't believe that your boyfriend was a killer. 
His arms tightened around you as he kept on sobbing and you were brought back to reality. 
“Oh my God,” you said as you tried to push him away. “Please tell me your lying or that this is some sick, twisted joke.”
You finally pushed him off of you. He tried to mask the hurt in his eyes that he felt from you distancing yourself but he failed. 
“Why would I lie?” he asked looking down at his hands. They were trembling. 
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck fuck.”
“But, baby, it was an accident, okay?” he tried to convince himself as well as you. “It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t want that to happen.”
You believed him. That was what baffled you the most. You always believed whatever he said. However, you shook your head. “N - no, Rafe. You killed her.”
“Don’t say that!” he screamed. “I didn’t do that!”
You were shocked but not scared. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew. But you also knew that you couldn't just let him know that you believed him. You had to know if he was sorry, and you had to find a way for him to change.
You curled up into a ball trying to get away from him. Your back was pressed so deep into his wall you were afraid you might fall right through it. This was all an act.
You needed to convince him to change. You had to make him believe you wanted to leave., So you shoved yourself up and turned towards the door, but found it was suddenly blocked by Rafe’s body. 
“Please,” he began to beg. “I - I know I’m broken. And that I’ve done a lot of things wrong. But please, don't leave me.”
Your heart clenched for you to stay. Your mind, however, wasn’t sure it was the right timing to go back to him. He had to know this was his last chance. 
“Rafe,” you sighed. “You’re going to have to prove yourself to win one last chance.”
Rafe smiled and fell to his knees. He began to beg and to plead so much for you to stay that you actually could feel your heartbreaking. 
“Look,” he began, “I know I've done almost everything wrong in my life, okay? I know that. But I also know that you are the one fucking thing that I got right. And I can’t live without you.”
You sighed, knowing that no matter what Rafe did, he would just have to sweet talk you for you to stay by his side. 
“Stand up,” you said defeatedly. “This is your last chance. I know I always say that but this time I really mean it.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Do you, Rafe?” you questioned. “All you have to prove to me is that you don’t want me to be the only right thing in your life.”
“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good,” you said, sighing in relief. “Because I really love you and it would kill me to have to break up with you.”
He smiled at that, wiping his tears away. “I love you, too, Y/N.”
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