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#we went in a VERY different direction since there was no one to tell me it was a bad idea
allylikethecat · 8 months
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Last week's rules still apply to tomorrow's A&E Fic chapter - Bestie has abandoned me and therefore this chapter has not been viewed by another living soul before being posted, meaning you are getting more raw, unfiltered content from Ally's brain and Imma need y'all to give me feedback accordingly ❤️
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hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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Today felt like the last day of summer... I spent a long time following a little stream, looking for the spot where I'd found wild currants last year. They had clearly moved to a different spot, or maybe I'm just bad at finding things again because the only landmarks my brain finds worth remembering are stuff like "there were two baby cows to the left" or "there was a majestic hawk perched on a fencepost." I did know the currants grew near a waterfall that's near a little hamlet, and (unlike the baby cows) both were still here one year later.
Half an hour into our quest Pandolf had decided we must be looking for water, so he stopped like "Here!!" every time he found a noteworthy watery spot, it was very sweet.
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Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to find my favourite berries this year, and I went back to the road—and found raspberries instead! The last ones of the summer...
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I was like "I accept this consolation prize, world, thank you" and had started picking raspberries when I heard soft dainty footsteps on the road behind me. On reflex I said "Bonjour !" as I was turning around and then realised I'd just said bonjour to this lady:
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She walked up to me like she was about to ask me for directions, but then went right past me and walked on with the same purposeful air.
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She stopped to admire the view above the waterfall like an old lady on her routine evening walk, then she was on her way.
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Pandolf and I went in the opposite direction, to go home, and we soon found another pony who was clearly the first one's pasture mate. This one was in her pasture and she looked sad and abandoned (and/or outraged). She kept pacing and then stopping behind the fence and whinnying.
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After we crossed the hamlet we saw a guy on his tractor on the road—he was on his way to a pasture where you could see a little herd of cows who had formed an orderly queue in front of their milking parlour. It was evening milking time and the ladies knew it.
Cows queue like British citizens, I mean very politely and patiently, but still I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hesitated to stop the guy to tell him about the fugitive. I chose the compromise of trotting besides his tractor to give him the news, and the tractor was very loud so he couldn't hear me well and I had to sort of convey the concept of escaped ponyhood with hand gestures. The guy looked in the direction I was indicating and then nodded and moved his arms in a philosophical gesture of total acceptance, like, "Such is life." Or maybe it was "Not my pony, not my problem."
I on the other hand feel a deep sense of community with people who have escape artist animals, so I ended up turning back to see if I could at least orient the pony in the vague direction of her pasture. I found her at a crossroads, wondering where tonight's walk would take her.
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When I tried to go around her and shoo her back in the right direction, she went off the road and down by the stream, which wasn't the plan, and Pandolf happily followed her then barked at me like "hey!! water!!" Our search for water had ended but I followed them to humour him—and! I found some wild currants! down by the little bridge that the pony was waiting for me to notice like some mystical guide.
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There were no actual berries to be found, I'm a bit too late for that, but I got some cuttings to transplant near my house and since I thought I was going to go home empty-handed it made me feel successful anyway.
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So maybe the pony saw me meandering near her pasture looking for currants and decided to escape so she could help me out. A criminal with a heart of gold. If I'd walked by the bridge I might have seen the currants without her help because, guess what, last year's hawk, Guardian of the Gooseberries, was still there on his fencepost nearby. What a good landmark! But I wouldn't have walked by the bridge without the pony's prompting as I had already given up on my search, so she did escape for a good cause.
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I tried to use the currants as bait to attract the pony (let's call her Mrs Berry) towards her pasture, but after I pulled the leaves out of her reach for the third time I lost her trust and she stopped paying attention to me. So I had to go back to the good old method to make shetland ponies move, i.e. walk behind her and occasionally pretend-kick in the direction of her bum, the way you'd shepherd a reticent pigeon.
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Her friend looked pretty indifferent upon seeing her again, so I think she wasn't whinnying out of worry but because she's a Pirlouit (a snitch).
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I opened the pasture gate but Mrs Berry had absolutely no intention of going home so early. She went in the opposite direction, for a little stroll around her hamlet. (Look at Pandolf merrily leading the way! He loves escape artist animals, he thinks they're so much more fun than everybody else.)
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Nobody was home in the house by the pasture and I decided to let Mrs Berry stroll, now that she was no longer on the road walking away towards the distant horizon. I figured she must be a Pampérigouste, a known local personage who goes out for an adventure every now and then. We let her have her harmless fun in the two and a half streets of her little village, and since we had lost some time following this pony round, the sun was now quite low and Pan was all prettily backlit as he frolicked on the way home <3
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
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Torn
Kewis x Child!Reader
Summary: No one tells you anything
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Something bad happens to Mom when she's away with Chelsea.
She comes back with crutches and a bandage around her leg. It's pretty bad, you gather, but no one tells you what exactly is wrong with her.
"Careful, chook," Mom says as you round the corner chasing after Helen," Don't run so fast. I'm delicate."
You give her an unimpressed look at interrupting you but don't say anything because she's hurt. You have to do that a lot now. Mom is very busy trying to recover, Mommy tells you often, and that you shouldn't interrupt her while she's doing that.
Mommy is trying to clean up around the two of you while muttering to Auntie Sam on the phone. You think that's a little funny sometimes, that you have an Auntie Sam and the Mom's adult name is Sam too.
It's kind of funny but you don't dwell on it for long because Helen pops her head up over the coffee table that Mom's using to stretch her boo-boo leg. Helen gives you a look that says 'keep-playing-with-me' so you hurry to follow her, grabbing the jingly bells on a stick to wave at her.
It's her favourite toy and you shake it for her to paw at.
"Hey," Mommy moves past and takes it off you," Mom's trying to relax. How about we play quietly?"
You huff but don't argue. Helen mews rudely at Mommy as you go to sit in your play corner.
Mommy's packed away all your loud, interesting toys so you're forced to play with the boring princess toys Grandpa got you for Christmas. You make one of your dinosaurs eat her.
Usually, when you play with dinosaurs, Mom comes over to play with you but she and Mommy are cuddling on the sofa and talking in hushed voices.
You know that means they're having an adult conversation about Mom's injury that they don't want you to hear about.
You know the very bare minimum about Mom's knee. You knew she hurt it when she went on holiday with Chelsea and recently came back home from the hospital surgery she had.
She walks around on crutches now and isn't allowed to pick you up or run around with you anymore.
It's very annoying and it makes her sad sometimes. You try to cheer her up but Mommy always directs you to play by yourself because she's scared that you'll hurt Mom.
"What are you doing there, chook?" Mom asks when she watches you take the clothes off of one of your princesses.
"Dinos can't eat clothes, Mom," You reply," Got to be naked to eat."
You brutally smack your Spinosaurus against the princess and make crude eating sounds with your mouth.
Mommy wrinkles her nose in disgust like every time you do something like this. You think Mommy's a bit like a princess sometimes because she likes dressing up all pretty and is less willing to play rough with you like Mom does.
"What happened to playing nice?" Mommy asks," We have to treat everyone with respect."
You roll your eyes. "Toys aren't real people, Mommy. They're just pretend."
Mom laughs. "She's got you there, Kristie."
Kristie is Mommy's grown up name and you think that's kind of cool. Her name is even like a princess name and sometimes Auntie Sam jokes that she's the princess of eyebrows.
Mommy is very proud of her eyebrows but she's not been taking care of them like she usually does because she's very focused on helping Mom with her knee.
At the thought of Mom's injury, you huff and bumshuffle your way with your Spinosaurus and Allosaurus over to Helen sitting in her cat tree.
Sam watches you go. You've been different since she came home injured. Not different enough that she's overly concerned but enough that she's begun to notice it.
"She's doing it again," She whispers to Kristie as they both watch your little shoulders slouch into yourself when you turn around, as if to check that they're both still there.
Your eyes stay focused on where Sam's leg is propped up on the table.
"I think the injury is throwing her off a little," Kristie replies with a sigh," I imagine this is a lot."
"Are we paying enough attention to her? I mean..."
They watch you as you wander back to your play corner and try to drag your big tub of dinosaurs over to Helen's cat tree. You're practically obsessed with dinosaurs ever since you caught a rerun of Dinosaur King on the tv.
It had launched an obsession that Sam likened to her own for football and your absolute favourite thing was handing her and Kristie dinosaurs so they could play with you.
"Heya, Chook," Sam calls out," Do you need some help there?"
"Can't help," You grunt as you helplessly tug at the box," You're hurt."
"Well, I can help," Kristie says, already moving to get up.
You freeze her with a look of contempt. "Can't help either. You have to look after Mom." You move around the box to push it rather than pull and it suddenly gets a lot easier.
It's a stupid thing to be proud of, Sam thinks, but she's proud nonetheless. You're a good little problem solver and you're clearly picking up on hers and Kristie's behaviours without it being fully explained to you.
You sit in front of Helen and put out a dinosaur in front of her. Sam's not sure what kind it is but that's fine because you clearly do, as you choose your own dinosaur from the box and make it fight Helen's.
Kristie moves to sit crosslegged next to you. You spare her a glance but go back to playing.
She reaches into your box.
"Can't touch unless you're playing," You say firmly," And you can't play.
"Why can't I play?"
"Because you have to look after Mom."
"And that means I can't play?"
"No." You make Helen's dinosaur lay on its side and die because that's what happens with dinosaurs. "Because Mom's more important than playing and I'm littler so I can be forgotten."
Your words don't really make sense and yet somehow makes perfect sense to Kristie. She sighs.
"Are you feeling sad? Because I haven't been playing with you since Mom hurt her leg?"
"I'm not sad," You say as you pick out another dinosaur for Helen," I'm littler than Mom and she's bigger and has a boo-boo so she needs to be looked after."
"Mommy can still play with you," Mom says from her spot on the sofa. She hasn't said much since Mommy came over but she has been watching. "If you bring the box over here then I can play too."
You glance over your shoulder with a look that makes it clear you think she's lying. "You can't play, Mom," You say," Because you've hurt your knee and you're delicate. You said so."
"I did, didn't I?" Mom laughs a bit awkwardly. "As long as you don't run around or anything, we can still play. Here." She awkwardly moves to sit on the floor, throwing a sofa cushion down to rest her leg on as she sits by the coffee table.
You're still a little sceptical and you glance at Mommy to check. She's in charge of what you do with Mom because you're littler than her and she's got working knees.
She gives you nod. "If we all stay sitting, we can play at the table."
Kristie tries not to feel the guilt in her chest when you light up like a Christmas tree and shove your box across the floor. You never used to look so happy when she and Sam offered to play with you.
"You can be the Microceratus, Mommy, because it's pretty like you." You hand her the toy. "And you can be my Ornithomimus because it's fast." You hand Sam the toy.
Sam smiles. "Thanks, chook. What are you going to be?"
"I'm going to be Spinosaurus," You say," Because they're my favourite."
You dip into your box to grab your little trees and bushes to dot around the table to make a scene. You go to grab your Spinosaurus before stopping. You glance between Sam and Kristie.
"Can...Can we play later too? Please? If Mom's knee is less hurt?"
Sam smiles at you. "Of course we can play later, chook."
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somevagrantchild · 6 months
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Missing Loustat scene discovered in Anne Rice's diaries
I HAVE SOMETHING AMAZING TO SHARE WITH YOU!!
As I was reading Anne Rice's diaries in the special collection library at Tulane University while I was in New Orleans for the Vampire Ball, I discovered this intensely sexy scene she wrote between Louis and Lestat that never made it into her books. This is Anne Rice's original writing, never before shared anywhere online.
Anne Rice wrote this scene by hand in her diary dated November 6, 2015 (which she mentions is the day before Stan's birthday. He would have been 73😭). I have deduced that it is her very first (and very rough) draft of the scene that eventually became chapter 4 in Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis, aka the scene where Louis agrees to move into the chateau and be Lestat's partner/companion again. The final version of the scene in the book reads like wedding vows, serving as the beginning of their marriage in the modern era. As you'll see, the first draft was rather different. 
In Prince Lestat, Louis and Lestat's interactions are extremely brief, and they aren't able to talk beyond one stolen moment to reassure each other of their love. It would seem that in the six months between the end of Prince Lestat (when Louis thinks to himself that he will be with Lestat very soon), and the beginning of Atlantis (when that finally ends up happening), Louis and Lestat do not have any intimate conversation. They may have talked somewhat, but only briefly about superficial matters, or they may have not even spoken to each other once over those six months until Lestat asks Louis to meet him in New Orleans for chapter 4.
In an earlier diary entry, I found a note where Anne said she wanted their first reunion conversation to begin by finally addressing Louis dumping Lestat's body in the swamp after Claudia tried to kill him—something they have never once discussed. So when I came across this scene in a later diary, I could tell it was a direct follow-through on that idea. 
The scene begins with Lestat speaking to Louis, and it seems they are outside on the streets of New Orleans, but someplace private where they aren't being observed by mortals. This is different from the final book version with them sitting at a sticky table at the Café Du Monde (though it is similar to how Lestat tells us they walked around the city streets together for hours after the reunion scene was over). 
Anne headed this part of the diary entry with: Early on: L+L quarrel—
“I can forgive her for what she did. She was never a human being. She went from being an infant to a monster. But you—you stood there and watched. You carried my body into the swamps and dumped me there as if I were trash—you were the one I hated! How could you do that to me? Decades we’d been together!”
He stared at me for the longest time—not defensive, not angry.
“I could do it because I was afraid,” he said. “I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.”
“I don’t believe you. You were fine without me. You were preparing to sail to Europe. You were making plans.”
A torrent of words.
“Stop!” he said. “I’m here now. I love you! I thought you wanted me here! I thought you’d forgiven me. I thought we had a second chance, now, you and I. And miles to travel together!”
I nodded.
“A second chance!”
I nodded.
Then I took hold of him as if I was going to kill him. I threw him up against the wall and bit into his neck for the first time in two hundred years—the first time since the first time—and when the blood gushed into my mouth, I saw again—for the first time in two hundred years—his soul, his heart.
I was lost in his mind, his thoughts, his dreams, flashes…
I drew back—I’d drunk too much. He was being held there by me, his head bowed. I slapped him hard and when he opened his eyes, I pushed his open mouth against my neck. I forced his fangs into me.
And we were together, wrapped in one another’s arms…
Finally I pushed him back.
He was sitting on the paving stones, hair in his face, back to the wall. I took his hand and helped him up.
“Kiss me,” I said. “No, really kiss me.”
Finally I let him go.
“I can’t live without you! “ he said. “I swear, you wander off on me again, I…”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.”
We walked along in silence.
“He loves you too,” he said.
“Who?”
“The silent one, the one who’s never spoken to me, the one inside you.”
It was time. I could have lingered a half hour more in the old times, but the time was now.
The End 
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Above is the clean version, which I have corrected for missing punctuation, missing letters/words, and necessary dialogue tags.
Below is the original rough version as I have transcribed exactly from Anne Rice's handwritten diary.
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“I can forgive her for what she did. She was never a human being. She went from being an infant to a monster. But you—you stood there & watched. You carried my body in the swamps & dumped me there as if I were trash—you were the one I hated! How could you do that to me? Decades we’d been together!
He stared at me for the longest time—not defensive, not angry.
I could do it because I was afraid, he said. “I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.”
“I don’t believe. You were fine without me. You were preparing to sail to Europe. You were making plans.”
—A torrent of words.
“Stop! I’m here now. I love you! I thought you ’d wanted me here! I thought you’d forgive me. I thought we had a second chance, now, you & I. And miles to travel together!”
I nodded—
“A second chance!”
I nodded—
Then I took hold of him as if I was going to kill him. I threw him up against the wall & bit into his neck for the first time in 200 years—the first time since the first time—and when the blood gushed into my mouth I saw again—for the first time in 200 years—his soul, his heart—
I was lost in his mind, his thoughts, his dreams, flashes — (more)
I drew back—I’d drunk too much He was being held there by me, his head bowed. I slapped him hard & when he opened his eyes I pushed his open mouth against my neck. I forced his fangs into me.
And we were together, wrapped in one another arms — (more)
Finally I pushed him back.
He was sitting on the paving stones, hair in his face, back to the wall. I took his hand & helped him up.
Kiss me. No really kiss me.
Finally I let him go.
I can’t live without you! I swear, you wander off on me again, I … I ”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.”
We walked along in silence —
He loves you too
Who
The silent one, the one who’s never spoken to me, the one inside you.
It was time. I could have linger a half hour more in the old times, but was now —
The End 
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The spots where she wrote (more) are clearly areas where she intended to expound upon all Lestat was seeing and feeling in Louis's mind, soul, and blood, and then what he felt and saw as Louis was drinking from him. How I wish we could know what she would have written there! Also the lines that start or end with a — make me wonder if she intended to add more to those bits as well. Would she have actually written out Lestat's torrent of words?
Lestat's line "Kiss me. No really kiss me." isn't in quotation marks in Anne's diary. I chose to add them, because there were many other obviously spoken-aloud dialogue lines also without quotes. But it is possible that Lestat only thinks these words as he and Louis are kissing each other. It reminds me of in Queen of the Damned, when Daniel thinks, "I like kissing. And suggling with dead things, yes, hold me." The narration doesn't tell us Armand actually starts holding him, but Anne's style of using internal monologue makes it clear that's what happens in the action. So the "Kiss me." could be similar in this instance as well. And in that case it might mean Louis is the one who initiates the kiss, and this is Lestat’s internal “yes, yes!!” reaction to it. But I do suspect he is actually meant to be saying it aloud.
With the em dash at the end of it, the very last line could have been meant to continue: "but was now ______" was now...something. But considering she wrote "The End" after it, it seems like it was meant to be a final statement, so that is why I added the missing words I chose in my edited clean version.
Although this conversation is very different from the one we get in the final version of Atlantis, I do still see elements of it in the book's scene:
Louis's line "I can’t live without you! I swear, you wander off on me again, I …" became "so I'll come. And when you tire of me and want me gone, I'll hate you of course."
They still kiss, really kiss. In the book, it is moved to before their conversation, when Lestat first sees Louis in their Rue Royal flat, wearing the new clothes he ordered for him and Louis says, "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" and Lestat is so shocked, he's unable to respond.
They do still discuss Amel in the book version, in much more depth than he is mentioned here. Louis having never heard Amel's voice in his own head remains consistent. 
They do still go walking around the streets of the Garden District, though it happens after the conversation, not during it. Lestat does say they talked for hours during that walk, but about Amel and what's been happening to Lestat as Prince. Not about themselves or their past. 
MY THOUGHTS!
The confirmation here that Lestat never tasted Louis's blood before their new marriage begins in Atlantis is one of the most amazing parts to me, when combined with the offhand way that Lestat mentions what Louis's vampire blood tastes like in Blood Communion. Even though the final version of Atlantis never shows us Lestat drinking Louis's blood (either forcefully like this scene, or consensually in other ways), the mention in Blood Communion does confirm that it DOES happen off the page at some point during the years between Atlantis chapter 4 and the beginning of Blood Communion. 
We know that Louis drank much of Lestat's blood at the end of Merrick, and this was his first time doing it because we were told in previous books how much he resisted his powers being increased by drinking ANY other vampire's blood. It is nice to have it confirmed that Lestat never bit Louis or drank any of his blood in return either before or after Merrick. But now, after Lestat becomes Prince, this is now a new element to their relationship. It makes me consider more strongly that Anne perhaps meant to imply that they then for the first time began to engage in blood sharing the same romantic way Lestat did with Akasha in Queen of the Damned, and then in the even more explicit way she shows us with Rhoshamandes and Benedict in Prince Lestat. 
I don't take all Anne wrote in her diaries as canon. It is clear that much of what she wrote there were spitball ideas that she later chose to absolutely reject (as opposed to deciding they were true but she just didn't mention them in the books). But I do not see anything in this scene that the final versions of the books contradict. So even though this scene didn't actually happen in canon, we can believe that the feelings and emotions that drive this scene are still canon. And I love that for us 🥰
I have cross-posted this on ao3 to give us a good place to talk back and forth to each other about it in the comments section there. Reblog and reply to this post as much as you like, but if you want to have some conversations and share your own thoughts on what she wrote, ao3 will give us a much more organized place to do it, where other people will be able to easily find and read your meta as well.
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navia3000 · 14 days
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s o l o n g , l o n d o n
Includes : Aaron Hotchner
Genre : Angst
Warnings : Mentions of break downs, drinking, mentions of depression symptoms, not proof-read
Based On : So Long, London by Taylor Swift
Part two : All My Ghosts
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You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?
I died on the altar waiting for the proof
You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days
“Haley wants us to get back together.” Upon hearing those words, her heart dropped. She realized why Hotch asked her to come on this ‘date’. She thought he was finally going to ask her to make whatever they were official, but she now knew he just wanted to let her down easy.
“What?” She asked. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes, her view of Hotch blurry and distorted. Though she couldn’t see very well, she could see the pity and regret written on his face.
“She wants us to try to be a family again.” She took a second to process his words.
“And, what did you say?” She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.
“I said yes.” He watched the tears fall from her eyes. “I had to, for Jack. For my family. We both knew this wasn’t a sure thing, Y/N. I’m your boss, and our jobs are dangerous enough, this wasn’t going to work.” He was right. Since she started at the BAU, she developed a crush on her slightly older, and incredibly intimidating boss. She would’ve never thought he felt the same towards her, and she was constantly teased by her fellow profilers about it, until he asked her out on the way home from a case. She was elated. They went on a couple dates, and she was sure they were going great. Until now.
“And Haley gave you the out. Instead of telling me, you led me on,” she choked on her sobs. She reached for her purse, preparing herself to leave Aaron Hotchner and her heart along with him. “Go back to your family, Hotch. And don’t worry, I’ll pretend like nothing ever happened.”
And I'm just getting color back into my face
I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place
The team was shocked and confused when Y/N took a two-week leave of absence. She left without telling anyone or saying where she was going, she didn’t even tell Hotch, going straight to Strauss and asking for her leave, using the ‘family emergency’ excuse. They were even more surprised when she returned, acting as if she hadn’t just left without a word.
She could feel their eyes on her the minute she entered the briefing room. She sat down, chin high, eyes forward, not daring to look any of them in the eye for fear they would see through her facade.
Hotch’s eyes burnt a whole in her head. They hadn’t talked, interacted even, since that night. And while she was going to be profesional, she didn’t want him thinking he broke her heart, even if he did.
“Y/N, good to see you back.” JJ was the first to address her, the first to break the silence. She gave JJ a smile, and turned to look at the file sitting in front of her, keeping to herself throughout the briefing.
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
The team had moved the briefing onto the jet, the case being of a serial killer who was quickly devolving. The profilers all noticed their fellow coworker and friend’s strange behavior, her demeanor entirely different to the one she wore before her leave. She wouldn’t indulge conversation with the others, always directing the topic onto the case. The agents had also picked up on Hotch’s behavior; how his eyes would linger on Y/N for a little too long, and how he avoided referencing the woman.
Emily was growing even more concerned for her friend as the minutes passed, and when she saw her heading to the front of the jet for coffee, she quickly followed. “Hey,” she alerted Y/N of her presence, turning and closing the curtains to give them some privacy.
“Hi,” she gave a tight-lipped smile, moving to go back to her seat before Prentiss grabbed her arm.
“What’s going on?” She saw her friend’s face harden, her eyes moving to her feet.
“Nothing,” she knew better than to try and pretend like nothing was wrong around a bunch of profilers, but she couldn’t admit to herself that hers and Hotch’s break up was taking a toll on her. She was skinnier and paler, and was clearly struggling with something. But she couldn’t even call whatever happened between them a break up; they were only going out for a month and they hadn’t even told the rest of the team. So, sticking to her word, she would continue to act as though nothing happened.
“Oh, come on, you know I don’t believe that.” Emily dropped her grip on the girl’s shoulder, moving to fiddle with the coffee cups on the table. “Something’s going on. We all see it. You don’t have to talk about it, but, I want you to know we’re all here for you.” She saw tears pooling in the younger girl’s eyes, and her concern grew and her heart broke and all she wanted was for her to be okay. “You can talk to us. You can talk to me, or JJ, or even Hotch.” At the mention of his name, she broke. Her tears ran down her face, and sobs racked her body.
Emily hurried to hug her friend, shocked at her sudden breakdown. She heard the curtain being pulled, and turned to the sight of the team’s concerned eyes on the pair. But, she made sure to watch Hotch, noticing his own eyes becoming glossy at the sight of the crying agent.
For so long, London
Had a good run
A moment of warm sun
But I'm not the one
She sat on her couch, drowning her sorrows with a bottle of wine. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had just left her apartment after a night spent of crying and laughing, the women comforting her after she had confided in them about all that happened with Hotch.
She felt better, but not great. Her heart still hurt every time Haley and Jack came to visit Hotch during his lunch break, and she kept having to excuse herself to the bathroom whenever she was around him for too long. The team pretended not to notice the tension between her and Hotch, and they both refused to acknowledge each other unless it referenced their work or a case they worked.
Everyone knew something happened between them, and they knew their friend was not okay, so they pushed past it in hopes of nursing their friend back to happiness. She was incredibly grateful for all their friends were doing for her, but it wasn’t enough.
Nobody knew that she had just given Strauss a request for a transfer from the Bureau; none of the others knew, all but one person. The same person who’s name lit up on her phone, his calls going unanswered as she sipped on her glass of wine.
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avatar-anna · 10 months
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I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him
The Thing About Having Six Kids
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so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!
Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader
Simone
(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)
Y/n: i'm pregnant
(one day later)
Y/n: Harry?
Harry: Are you sure?
Y/n: i'm sure
Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it
Harry: I don't know what to say.
Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that
Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot
Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.
Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?
Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me
Harry: What are you going to do?
Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you
Harry: I was just shocked that's all
Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents
Harry: Shit my parents!
Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now
Y/n: but i think i want to keep it
Y/n: the baby
Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not
Harry: I'm sorry. You know...
Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?
Harry: It seems too early to joke about this
Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment
(ten minutes later)
Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go
Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy
Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.
Harry: What are you talking about?
Harry: Y/n?
3 missed calls from Him <3
Collette
"Let's have another baby."
Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.
"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.
"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.
Perhaps a little too easily.
"Say something."
Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.
"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."
"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."
"I...I have," Y/n said.
She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.
"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."
It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.
"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."
"But management—"
"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."
This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.
"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.
"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.
Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.
She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.
She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.
"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.
Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.
"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."
"That's not what I—"
"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."
He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.
"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "
Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"
Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."
Maeve and Jules
"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"
"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.
Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"
"Amazing," Harry breathed.
Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.
Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.
Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.
"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."
"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"
"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.
His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.
To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"
The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."
"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.
"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.
Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.
The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.
She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.
Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.
"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.
"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"
"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."
Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."
"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."
So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.
Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."
"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.
"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."
It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.
"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.
"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.
"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."
"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"
Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."
"You never know," Y/n finished for him.
Geneva
"We have some pretty big news to share."
Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.
They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.
Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.
"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.
Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.
"We're having a baby!"
Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.
And then things took an interesting turn.
"Who won?" Jeff asked.
"Won? What do you mean—"
"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."
A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.
"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.
"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."
"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"
"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."
Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."
As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.
He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"
"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"
"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"
"Eight months?"
And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.
Natalia
"I want Mommy!"
Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."
Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.
Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.
"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."
Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.
Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.
And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.
Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.
And he was missing it.
He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.
"Daddy?"
Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.
"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.
Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."
"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"
Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.
The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.
He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.
What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.
He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.
Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.
"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"
"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.
Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—
"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.
Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.
Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.
"Is that baby sister?"
Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"
The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"
"Mommy!"
"Mommy?"
"Mommy's home?"
Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.
"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"
There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.
"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.
"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.
"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.
Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."
"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.
"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"
Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."
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dreamwritesimagines · 5 months
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The Eye of the Hurricane [1] - A Night Out
A.N: Here we go my loves, the first chapter! ❤️ I hope you'll like it, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️
Summary: A night out with an old friend can lead to surprises.
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don't condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
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Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to have a normal life.
Granted that was never in the cards but you liked to pretend from time to time. You knew it was selfish and incredibly dangerous as everyone kept reminding you, yet you didn’t care. After all, it was one of the very few luxuries you couldn’t afford and you were nothing if not determined.
Besides, considering since you were expected not to be a part of the family business, you figured you could enjoy the benefits for the time being.
So far, there was no sign of any bodyguards your father always made sure to put on your tail which meant he was blissfully unaware of where you were or what you were doing. If it were any other time, you would have been surprised by that alone but surprises seemed to be the theme of the week. To be completely honest, you had your doubts when your ex from college had contacted you to say he was moving to the city and wanted to catch up with you. Even though he was one of the very few ex-boyfriends you had broken up with on good terms, he still had an inkling about your family and most of the time, people were too intimidated by that to catch up with you.
With good reason.
But tonight was going to be different. Setting up a casual dinner and drinks night outside your father’s territory was a great first step for in your opinion, for a couple of hours you could pretend you were a normal girl who was having a normal night out with a normal guy.
You even drove your own car to the bar, something you hadn’t done in a long time.
“So yeah, let’s just say that it wasn’t the wisest decision.”
You let out a laugh, tilting your head.
“I don’t know Ethan,” you said. “Taking a girl to a horror themed corn maze? You get an A for effort.”
“In my defense, it was like two weeks after you broke up with me so I wasn’t thinking straight,” he said. “Besides, she said she liked horror movies.”
You hummed. “And how did that go?”
“Terribly,” he pointed out with a grin. “We got lost, and then I had this bright idea of finding the guide myself and we went in different directions, and she got out and I ended up getting even more lost.”
You pressed your palm on your mouth to hide your laugh.
“Then she sent the guide to find me,” he said and you cleared your throat, trying to keep a serious expression.
“You do realize you are the type of person who wouldn’t last an hour in a horror movie, right?”
“People who are trying to survive in horror movies have too much ambition if you ask me,” he said and sipped his drink. “How about you? Any terrible dates since our uh…fairytale romance?”
“We dated for like three months during sophomore year Ethan,” you said with a laugh and he nodded with a grin.
“They were good three months though.”
“Oh please,” you said. “I’m not even sure I could call that dating, I basically had to beg you to spend time with me.”
“We spent a lot of time—”
“In daylight,” you corrected yourself. “You had no problem finding time for me at night.”
He scrunched up his face, then nodded his head.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah I’m…I’m sorry about that. I was an ass.”
“Water under the bridge,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “College is the perfect time for relationship mistakes, and to be honest I was kind of an idiot.”
“Oh come on Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “I was the idiot. You were perfect, you still are.”
You scoffed.
“Not even close, trust me,” you said and raised your hand at the bartender, motioning for another drink. The bar wasn’t crowded by any means, only another couple by another booth and three men playing pool. A silence fell upon you and Ethan shifted his weight.
“So uh—can I ask you something?”
Your heart skipped a nervous beat but you made sure it didn’t show on your face. “Sure.”
“Was it…” he paused and took a deep breath. “Was it true?”
The waitress brought you your drink and you thanked her, then turned to Ethan again. “Hm?”
“You know, back in college there were all these rumors,” he stammered. “About your family and you never really said— whether they were true or not.”
Ah. Back to that, of course.
You had practiced this calmness way too many times for it to falter even for a moment, and you sipped your drink.
“I totally forgot,” you said. “Remind me what those rumors were?”
“People used to say your father—he and his business partners, I mean,” he said with a nervous laugh. “My friends used to say the city was divided between them.”
“Sounds quite medieval,” you pointed out, leaning back as a couple of men walked in, chattering. Ethan thought for a moment, then scoffed a laugh.
“Right,” he said. “I don’t know why I…don’t mind me. It does sound unreal, I mean—what are the chances that a couple of families rule the entire city, right?”
“I don’t know, I hear it was a thing in the 18th century,” you stated, catching the gaze of the man who had just walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. You eyed him up and down and by the time your gaze fell on the shape of the gun tucked underneath his jacket, you had already straightened your back, your whole body going tense.
“Jesus you should’ve heard the things they said. To be honest with you, I actually believed that whole underworld thing for some time,” Ethan said as the man said something to his friends while your eyes darted around the room, your heartbeat getting faster as you reached for the knife beside your plate.
Great.
This was not your ideal night out alright.
“Now to think about it, it’s not—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence when you threw the knife at one of the men and kicked the chair under Ethan, making him lose his balance before you flipped the table so that you could use it as a cover for you both as soon as the shooting started. The bullets wheezed past you, the couple by the other booth screaming while you pushed Ethan’s head down.
“What the hell is going on?!” he asked as you looked over the table for a second and turned to him, your heart beating in your ears, adrenaline rushing through you so fast that it made your head spin.
“I can explain later, do you have a gun with you?”
“What?!”
“I don’t think I should be repeating myself right now Ethan!” you hissed as shots echoed through the bar and he shook his head.
“No of course not!”
“The one time I ditch the bodyguards,” you grumbled “This is unbelievable…”
“Miss Y/N!” the man’s voice rang over the bar and you gritted your teeth. “The infamous princess. Such a surprise meeting you here, where are your daddy’s men?”
“On their way here I’m guessing but before they get here, I just have one question,” you called out. “Are you guys fucking idiots?”
He tsk tsked.
“That daddy of yours spoiled you too much,” he said. “Has anyone told you that?”
“Yeah, multiple men,” you retorted. “Didn’t end well for them I’ll tell you that.”
“I’d say it looks like it’ll end well for me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure buddy,” you said. “I’ll be surprised if you last the night.”
Several gunshots came from the corners of the bar, and you took cover again but before you could say anything else, you felt someone grab you and pull you upright. You grabbed the gun from him and fired it right at his knee, making him let out a scream of anguish and fall to the floor. The door of the kitchen was kicked open right before more guns were fired in the chaos which made it clear that it wasn’t Steve’s men who were trying to shoot you considering it was his territory, this was his one of many bars and these new people, whoever they were, were shooting at his men as well. It made absolutely zero sense that someone would attack you like this, especially since—
“Everyone stop or the next bullet goes through his head!”
 You turned to point the pistol at the owner of the voice but as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach. The man –probably the leader— holding the gun at Ethan’s head smirked and motioned at you.
“Drop the gun sweetheart.”
“Y/N, don’t!” Ethan said, trying to get out of his grip but the man fired the gun through his shoulder, making him yell out in pain and you gritted your teeth. The headlights of a car flashed outside, capturing your attention for a moment before you lowered the gun, someone hastily grabbing it from you. The leader pushed Ethan to one of his friends and stepped closer to you, now aiming the gun at your face but you were way too good at keeping your fear under control in situations like these to flinch at it.
You’d had a lifetime of practice after all.
“So what do you say we take a little trip outside huh?” he asked and you arched a brow.
“What do you say you go fuck yourself?”
He cocked the gun and you rolled your eyes.
“Oh no, a gun,” you deadpanned, checking your fingernails. “Am I supposed to be scared now?”
“This is not your daddy’s territory, girl.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glances from your nails. “Doesn’t matter, you idiot. The truce has been going on for years now, and anyone who breaks it will pay for that mistake with their lives. What is this, your first day on the job?”
“No one taught you not to smart mouth the man holding the gun?”
“No one taught you not to sign your own death sentence?” you asked back and he gave you a dry chuckle, taking a step towards you, still holding the gun.
“Keep talking like that,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take my time with you before handing you over to the boss.”
You opened your mouth to retort but before you could say anything, a deafening shot echoed through the room and blood splattered all over your face and your dress. The leader’s lifeless body dropped to the floor and you wiped at your face with a grimace before you turned to glare at your savior who looked almost amused at your annoyed expression.
“Bucky,” you gritted out and he winked at you, that arrogant grin you knew so well pulling at his lips.
“Hi Charm.”
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itsgrimeytime · 1 month
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i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter
Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.
TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.
[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]
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You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.
"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.
Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.
"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"
"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"
"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"
"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."
"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"
"Sometimes you can't find much-"
"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"
You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"
Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.
Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.
Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.
It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?
You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-
You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.
Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.
Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?
You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.
"Maggie said ya got a headache?"
Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?
The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.
"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"
His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"
Shit.
"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"
"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."
How did he know that?
"Rick, seriously-"
"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"
"Rick," you tried again.
"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.
You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"
"She can wait," he responded, simply.
"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"
"'S not as important as you."
The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-
And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.
Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.
It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.
Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.
That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.
You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.
Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.
"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."
Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.
"Ya need some help?"
Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.
And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.
You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"
Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-
"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."
You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.
No one likes laundry duty.
"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"
"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.
That had to be a lie.
"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."
"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"
"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."
Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.
"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.
"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"
"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."
"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"
He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."
You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."
He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-
"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"
Good god.
You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"
"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."
You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.
Shit, maybe they're onto something.
You decided to ask around.
"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.
She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.
"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"
Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.
"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"
She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."
She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.
"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."
"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"
"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"
Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-
"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.
"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"
"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"
You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."
You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-
"Carol," you repeated.
"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."
"Carol."
"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."
"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.
"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."
"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."
"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."
You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.
You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.
"Hey, Daryl?"
You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.
He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.
"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."
He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.
"Everythin' alright?"
You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."
He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.
"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.
"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."
Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"
"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"
He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"
"Yes," you swallowed.
"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.
"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."
Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.
Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."
You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.
"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"
"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-
"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."
You tried to speak, but he continued.
"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"
You didn't say a word.
"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.
You took a deep breath in, good god.
"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."
And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.
You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.
Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.
The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.
He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.
You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.
Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.
You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.
"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"
Carefully, you straightened out his collar.
You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.
"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).
You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."
He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.
With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.
Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.
Shit.
She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.
"What was that?" she asked, carefully.
You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."
"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"
"I'm not," you answered -plainly.
Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).
You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-
God, you were useless.
It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.
Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.
You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-
And then, there was a knock.
Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.
Knock.
It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-
With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-
"Rick?"
He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.
You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"
"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."
"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."
Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.
"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."
You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"
He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.
"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"
"I need ya."
You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"
"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."
"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.
"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."
"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"
"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.
It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.
He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."
"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.
"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"
"Rick."
"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."
"Rick," you tried again.
"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"
"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.
"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"
You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-
You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."
Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-
"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"
He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).
"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"
He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"
"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"
He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.
"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"
He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.
"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."
He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-
"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."
You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."
He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"
"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."
"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.
"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."
"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."
"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."
"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."
"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."
Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.
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theostrophywife · 7 months
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kiss with a fist | chapter eleven.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: 18 - one direction.
author's note: please enjoy my pookies in domestic bliss.
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The streetlights casted shadows on the sidewalk as you climbed the steps to your childhood home. As you made your ascent, fresh flurries rained down from the winter sky, covering the quiet neighborhood in a blanket of snow. Beside you, Theo fidgeted with the hem of his cashmere jumper and roughly combed a hand through his curls for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. 
You slipped your fingers through his and squeezed. “Don’t be nervous, Teddy. They’re going to love you.” 
Theo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the only tell signifying his nerves. Over the past few months, you became more and more attuned to your boyfriend’s body language. For someone who always had a sarcastic comment at his disposal, there were a lot of things that Theo conveyed without words. 
For example, you now knew that incessant tapping of his fingers meant that he was in dire need of a cigarette break, the slight clench of his jaw was a warning that someone was about to get their head bashed in for flirting with you, and that a tongue against the cheek meant to meet him in the broom closet immediately. Needless to say, you’d become an expert on reading Theodore Nott and right now, he was a never ending novel of nervousness. 
It didn’t surprise you. When you first invited him to Christmas dinner, Theo had grown so quiet that you actually checked his pulse to see if he was still alive. You were cuddled up in bed at your dorm when you sprung the question on him. It had only been two months since you officially started dating, but you knew without a doubt that you would be taking Theo home to meet your parents at some point. The only question was when. 
Then your mum had outright demanded that you bring him by for the holidays in her latest letter, which pretty much sealed the deal for you. Theo’s family wasn’t really big on celebrating Christmas given its origins, but his nonna had invited you to come to Triora for New Year’s, which you gladly accepted. She was as eager to meet you as your parents were to meet Theo. 
The two of you had taken each other’s news very differently. At first, you were nervous, but the excitement of learning more about your boyfriend's family offset the jitters. Theo, however, went into full psycho mode in the weeks leading up to his visit. He made you quiz him on traditional muggle festive activities, asked a million questions regarding your parents and their expectations, and even got special permission for an emergency shopping trip to muggle London so you could help pick clothes that were ‘boyfriend material.’
The boys had made fun of him incessantly, but Theo didn’t care one bit. He was on a mission to win your parents over and nothing was going to stand in his way. Pansy said it was the most work she’d ever seen him put into anything. Luna thought it was incredibly sweet, albeit a bit amusing to listen to you explain the concept of Santa Claus to your very confused boyfriend.
Said boyfriend now looked panicked as he peered inside of the black bag he’d brought along. “Are you sure I shouldn’t have sent a flower arrangement ahead of time? Or a bottle of vintage wine from the vineyard? I was going to, but I didn’t know what we were having for dinner and there’s truly nothing more embarrassing than paring the wrong wine with—”
You pulled him down by his scarf so that you were face to face. “Theo, this isn’t a soiree at Malfoy Manor. My family is as far from high society as you can possibly be. We’re just normal people. There’s no need to worry, babe.” 
“I really want them to like me,” he said softly. 
You grinned. “Well then use that famous charm of yours and win them over like you did with me.” 
“Yeah, but you were after my smoking hot body,” Theo responded sarcastically. “It’s harder when I don’t have that as an advantage.” 
He yelped when you slipped your cold hands underneath his jumper. Theo pried your fingers from his stomach before warming them up between his own. “See what I mean? You’re only using me for my perfectly sculpted abs.” 
“I’d like to lick those perfectly sculpted abs in my childhood bedroom at the end of the night, so make sure you make a good first impression in there.” 
“As if I don’t already have enough pressure on my shoulder,” he declared dramatically. “Now I have to swat your horny little hands away from me all night.” 
“Oh, please. Like I haven’t caught you adjusting yourself countless times since we left the train.” 
“It’s not my fault that my girlfriend’s absolutely fit, alright. The extremely short skirt doesn’t help either, love.” 
“I’m wearing tights, you pervert.” 
“Yeah, but when has that ever stopped me?” 
“Behave, Theodore. I promise to reward you after.”
Theo sighed and flicked your nose. “I am but your humble servant, cara mia.” 
You giggled and kissed his cheek. “Now come on, Teddy. Time to be a big boy and meet your girlfriend’s parents.” 
The minute you opened the door, the nostalgic smell of freshly baked cookies and pine filled your senses. Christmas had always been a special occasion in your household, so it wasn’t surprising at all to find the entire flat festively decorated. The foyer was covered in floor to ceiling with fairy lights and wreaths lined the narrow hallway while garland twined around the staircase into the second floor. Theo peered around in wonder, seemingly amused by the statues of glittery snowmen, red nosed reindeers, and the white bearded man carrying a sack of gifts. 
“Looks a bit like Dumbledore,” Theo said. 
You snorted before leading him into the living room. The fireplace was lined with stocking and lit with a flame that cast a soft, cozy glow upon the fresh pine tree, which was adorned with a combination of ornaments and other quirky trinkets that you had collected over the years. Underneath it sat a mountain of neatly wrapped gifts. 
“Is that you, bug?” called your father’s voice. 
Your parents emerged from the kitchen, walking hand in hand towards you and Theo. Your father offered your boyfriend a warm smile, while your mother sized him up like she did to her opponents in court. 
“This is the infamous boyfriend, then?” she asked with a raised brow. 
“What my wife means to say is that we’re very happy to meet you, Theodore. Y/N has told us so much about you.” 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Please, call me Theo.” Theo shook your father’s hand before handing your mother a bouquet of sunflowers. “Y/N told me that sunflowers are your favorite. I hope these are to your liking, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 
Your mum’s expression softened as she accepted the flowers. “These are quite lovely. Thank you, Theo.” She admired the sunflowers and smiled. “How did you manage to get your hands on these? They’re out of season for the winter.” 
“My family grows them in an enchanted greenhouse back at our vineyard. My nonna actually helped me pick them out. She said that a real gentleman never shows up empty handed,” Theo flashed a charming smile before pulling a fresh tub of gelato from his bag. “Which is why I’ve come with dessert as well.” 
“Flowers and ice cream?” Your father asked in an impressed tone. “Your nonna raised you well, young man.” 
You chuckled. “It’s gelato, dad. Calling it ice cream is practically a criminal offense in Teddy’s eyes.” 
Theo blushed at the nickname while your parents shared an amused look. “Well, Teddy,” your father playfully teased, “You can educate us poor English folk on the intricacies of gelato after dinner.” 
Calling the spread your mum had prepared dinner seemed like an understatement. She certainly didn’t hold back on preparations this year. All of the classics were there—prime rib, yorkshire pudding, praline chestnuts and sprouts, and roasted potatoes. While you enjoyed the food at Hogwarts, there was truly nothing like a home cooked meal. 
“Before we dig in,” your father started, “We have a little tradition in this house. Every Christmas, we go around the table and say a few things that we’re thankful for. You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to, but it’s been a bit of a ritual for us since Y/N forced us all to do it because she thought it would earn her more presents from Santa when she was five.” 
You flushed in embarrassment. Theo grinned at you like he’d just learned a life changing secret. “I’d love to participate. Maybe I’ll get extra gifts from Sandy Claws, too.” 
The cheeky bastard shot you a wink, which made your parents laugh. “It’s Santa Claus, Theodore.” 
“Potato, potato, amorina.”
With a fond eye roll, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll start us off then. I’m thankful for mum and dad. Loons, Pans, and the boys. Teddy, of course. And my last year at Hogwarts.” 
Your mother and father went next. In true mum fashion, the first thing she gave thanks for was her landslide win against another misogynistic barrister. She used a few colorful words to describe him, which made Theo’s eyes grow wide before he burst into laughter and whispered that he now understood where you got your attitude from. Dad’s declaration was considerably less vulgar, but very sweet and endearing nonetheless as he gushed about his two favorite girls. 
When it was Theo’s turn, you were surprised to find him a bit shy and nervous. You grabbed hold of his hand underneath the table and squeezed in reassurance. 
“I’m thankful for my wonderful girlfriend and her lovely parents for inviting me to Christmas dinner. I’m thankful for my friends and family, especially my crazy old nonna who regularly gets into screaming matches with the neighborhood pigeons. And…I’m thankful that I’ll be attending Cambridge in the fall.” 
“You got in?” you asked excitedly, nearly leaping off your chair. 
Theo nodded sheepishly, chuckling as you threw your arms around him and squealed. “Oh my god, Teddy. That’s amazing. I’m so excited for you!” 
“Congratulations, Theo,” your mum said. “You should be very proud of yourself.” 
“Well done, young man,” your dad added, clapping Theo on the back. “Well done indeed.” 
The rest of the dinner went smoothly. By the time dessert rolled around, Theo had completely won your parents over. You swore that he could’ve charmed the feathers off of a hippogriff. No one in the muggle or wizarding world was safe from the cheeky little grin of Theodore Nott. 
After gorging yourself on stracciatella, your parents were more than happy to pull out the embarrassing childhood pictures. A delighted Theo devoured every humiliating picture of you from your unfortunate bowl cut when you were three to the slight overalls obsession you had at age six. He beamed at a photo of you posing proudly with your Hogwarts letter. 
“That was a very special day for our little bug,” your father recounted fondly. “Professor McGonagall delivered the letter in person and explained that our baby girl was a witch.” 
Your mum smiled, recalling the memory. “Obviously, it was a lot to take in, but Minerva was incredibly patient. Neither one of us knew that magic was actually real, but I suppose that after the initial shock wore off, we weren’t really all that surprised. We always knew that Y/N was special.” 
Theo twined your fingers through his. “Yeah, she really is. Y/N has kept me on my toes since first year. I don’t think I would’ve tried this hard at school if it weren’t for her.” 
“Oh, we know,” Mum said with a chuckle. “She used to write letters about the infuriating Nott boy who kept taking the top spot in class. Imagine our surprise when she told us that the two of you had started dating.” 
“This one was adamant about meeting you properly,” your father chided as he wrapped an arm around your mother. “Said she wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t break our little girl’s heart.” 
“I assure you, I wouldn’t even dream of doing such a thing. Y/N has my heart in her hands and she has the power to do whatever she pleases with it.” 
You blushed furiously, but Theo didn’t even appear fazed. For him, this wasn’t an attempt to flatter or impress your parents. He was merely stating facts. 
“Smart answer, Theo.” Your mum said, nodding in approval. “We expected nothing less. It’s clear that you adore our daughter and vice versa. My husband and I are genuinely pleased to meet you and we’re looking forward to seeing more of you in the future.” 
Theo beamed and placed an arm around your shoulder. “I’ll be here for as long as she’ll have me.” 
You chuckled softly as your father sniffled a little, blinking away his teary eyed expression. “Well, we’ll leave you kids to it before dear old dad gets any more sentimental than he already is. Be sure to introduce Theo to Bandit, bug.” 
After you parted for the night, Theo turned over to you with a smile. “So, bug. Do I finally get to snoop around in your room?”
You sighed dramatically. “Fine, but not a word about my stuffies or else I’ll stupefy you and send you on the next train home.” 
“My lips are sealed, amore mio.” 
The door to your bedroom creaked slightly as you made your way inside. Theo followed closely behind and took in every detail. You looked around the room, trying to see it from your boyfriend’s perspective. 
The walls were painted a vivid sky blue color and all of your furniture came from a French vintage market, designed to fit perfectly with the overarching Marie Antoinette theme. There were gold stars painted on the ceiling, which you and your father had painted over the summer after your first year. It had taken the entire holiday since the Ravenclaw within you insisted on properly depicting an accurate star chart. 
Books littered every corner of the room, some neatly categorized in shelves and others strewn in every available nook and cranny to accommodate the overflow. This year you opted to arrange a small stack of your favorite novels, twining fairy lights through them and forming the perfect book lover’s festive tree. 
By far your favorite place in the whole world besides Hogwarts was the little bay window that faced west of your neighborhood. You had many fond memories from your childhood of curling up with a good book under the warmth of the setting sun. 
Theo made himself comfortable on the cushioned bench and stretched his long legs. He grabbed the stuffed raccoon perched on the windowsill and grinned.
“And who might this be?” 
You plucked your favorite stuffed animal from your boyfriend’s hands and settled into his lap. “Teddy, meet Bandit.” 
The edges of his lips quivered. “You named your stuffed raccoon Bandit?” 
“I realize it may not be up to your sophisticated standards, but keep in mind that I was two when I got him. Bandit was the best I could come up with.” 
“I’m not making fun,” Theo said, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “I happen to think it’s adorable. I bet you used to cuddle with him every night.” He poked Bandit’s fuzzy nose. “Sorry mate, but I’m afraid I’ve taken your spot and I’m quite loath to give it up.” 
“You do a lot more than cuddle with me, Theo.” 
Your boyfriend covered the stuffed raccoon’s ears. “Not in front of the stuffie, dear.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his hands away. “I’d apologize for her vulgar behavior, but I’m sure you’ve witnessed it far longer than I have.” 
“On second thought, I think I much prefer to cuddle with Bandit. He gives me a lot less sass.” 
Theo tilted your chin, grinning as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “You love my sass,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Not as much as I love your ass.” 
He chuckled as he pressed his lips against yours. You sighed as he kissed you deeply, your fingers automatically fisting the front of his cashmere sweater. Theo tasted like stracciatella and spearmint toothpaste and you smiled as his arms snaked around your waist while his tongue flicked against your bottom lip. 
Theo caressed the curve of your jaw and pulled away reluctantly. “As much as I love where this is heading, I’d like to give you your present before you maul me entirely.” 
You swatted his arm. “I don’t maul, Theodore.” 
“Maul, devour. Same difference. Now come on, love. It’s already past midnight, which means we can exchange gifts.” 
“Fine,” you sighed exasperatedly. 
In reality, you were more than excited to do your first exchange with your boyfriend. You walked over to your dresser and retrieved the neatly wrapped gift hidden within. The green and silver wrapping shimmered in the moonlight and was topped with a silk black ribbon. Theo grinned as he presented his gift, which was adorned in blue and gold paper. Sometimes it was scary how similar your minds worked. 
“You first, cara mia.” 
Theo watched as you carefully unwrapped the present. You pulled out a gray fleece jumper and chuckled when you saw the Cambridge crest embroidered on the front. It was identical to the one Theo had given you at the start of term, but with a more legible design. 
“I hope that this doesn’t make you think you’re getting your old jumper back.” 
“Of course not. I have long accepted that every one of my jumpers will end up in your greedy little hands.” You stuck your tongue out rather childishly while clutching the jumper, which made Theo chuckle. “That’s not all, my love. There’s another gift in there for you.” 
Sure enough, underneath the jumper was another smaller box wrapped in gold. The paper looked suspiciously lustrous. You wouldn’t have been surprised if it was made from actual gold. As soon as you saw the corner of the book, you nearly shrieked. 
“Theodore! You absolutely did not!” 
Theo smirked. “I absolutely did too.” 
In your hands was a first edition illustrated copy of Pride and Prejudice. It was bound in soft leather and had the original blue cover surrounded with golden peacock feathers. Aside from a few wears and tears, the book was in pristine condition. It felt almost sacrilegious to hold such a beautiful piece of literature in your hands. Especially since owning it had been your dream since you were a little girl. 
“How did you know?”
“The field trip to Edinburgh. I saw you looking at it in one of the bookshops.” 
“That was over a year ago,” you said in complete astonishment. “Back when we were still bitter enemies. I can’t believe you remembered.” 
“I remember everything about you, my love.” Theo smiled softly. “I’ll never forget the way your eyes lit up that day. I didn’t even think twice before buying it if it meant seeing you smile like that again.” 
Your eyes filled with tears. “It’s too much, Teddy. This must’ve cost a small fortune.” 
He shrugged. “What’s the point of being rich and handsome if I can’t spoil my girlfriend? Money isn’t an object, principessa. I’d gladly drain my vault at Gringott’s in exchange of making you happy.” Theo swiped a tear from the corner of your eyes. “Besides, the book is non-refundable so you better make sure to put it to good use.” 
The laugh that left your lips was slightly hoarse and your chest constricted with emotion as all of your affection for this sweet, wonderful boy threatened to spill over. 
“Ti amo, Theo.” 
“Ti amo cosi tanto, Y/N.” 
You kissed the tip on his nose and smiled at the blush warming Theo’s cheeks. “You know you’ve made it nearly impossible to follow that up, right?” 
“Why do you think I wanted to go first?” You swatted his arm, which only made him grin in response. “I’m kidding. I’m sure I’ll love your present.” 
You nodded, pushing the green and silver box towards him. Theo opened it slowly and lifted the lid. He immediately smiled when he saw the vinyls. After a trip to Camden Market, Theo had fallen in love with a record player and lugged the thing all the way back to school. The boys were fascinated by the muggle invention and played the few records Theo owned until they were scratched beyond belief. 
Theo shuffled through the Smiths, the Cure, the Clash and Fleetwood Mac with increasing excitement. When he pulled out the Queen record that you purposely saved for last, a fond expression settled over his features. 
“I think I knew I was in love with you the night you snuck me into the music room,” he said softly. “I suspected it for a while before that, but then I heard your cute little snort for the first time and I knew I was done for.” 
“Oh my god, Theo. You totally had a crush on me. How embarrassing.” 
Theo rolled his eyes affectionately. “Thank you, amore mio. I really do love it. I can’t wait to listen to all of them.” 
“There’s—um—another gift in there for you.” Your boyfriend raised a brow at your sudden nervousness. He moved the vinyls aside and found a golden badge carefully wrapped in black silk. A broom and wand was etched on the gilded surface as well as Theo’s name. Underneath it was the title ‘Sports Coordinator.’ 
“After the slug club dinner, Harry and I started working on something. We both agreed that the separation in this school is doing more harm than good, so we talked to a few people from different houses—Cassius, Hannah, Colin, Cho and a few others who felt the same way that we did. After meeting a few times, we proposed creating an inter house committee that basically acts as a student governing body that represents members of every house equally. We can all collaborate on making decisions regarding social events, academic clubs, and even school policies. McGonagall approved it just before break. We’re hosting our first official meeting when we get back. Pansy agreed to be social coordinator, naturally. Cassius wanted to be treasurer. Did you know he’s quite good at maths? The other upperclassmen will be involved as well, but we wanted to leave the officer positions to the younger years because they’ll be spearheading it after we leave.” 
You took a deep breath, anxiously fidgeting your fingers. “I was wondering…if you’d like to be the sports coordinator? I was thinking you could arrange the first interhouse quidditch game. I overheard you and the boys talking about it before.” Theo stared at you in absolute silence. “It’s alright if you don’t want to. I just thought maybe—”
The sentence was cut off as Theo took your face between his hands and kissed you more fiercely than he’d ever kissed you before, which was saying a lot. Your boyfriend was definitely not shy with physical displays of affection. It only took half a day for the rest of Hogwarts to know that you were officially dating after Theo kissed you in the middle of the Great Hall for everyone to see.
“Is that a yes?” you asked when he finally let you up to breathe. 
Theo pressed his forehead against yours and smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.” He took the badge and pinned it onto his jumper. “I’ll wear the badge proudly, my love.” 
You chuckled. “Sorry that my gift isn’t as good as a first edition Jane Austen novel.”
“Are you kidding? This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me. You single handedly created a new governing student body so that my friends and I and whoever comes after us won’t live in constant hate and judgment. You’re amazing, amore mio. I love that smart brain of yours.” 
“Merry Christmas, Teddy.” 
Theo gathered you into his arms and kissed the top of your head as you both looked out the window to watch the snow fall softly over the quiet neighborhood. 
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
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lesbianchemicalplant · 6 months
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If you're surrounded by people who call trans people by their deadnames, you're most likely in a hate group. But a possible alternate explanation is that you're in academia. And it's not because that many academics are openly transphobic -- they just don't know that the site they fully trust, Google Scholar, is telling them to do it. Google Scholar was developed in 2004 and has changed very little since then. It supplanted a lot of hard-to-use library search indices by providing a Google-style interface with a single search box. Now it's the most name-recognized site for searching for almost any paper by almost anyone. One aspect of the design was, authors are just a kind of search term. An author is a cluster of different ways to abbreviate a name, like Firstname Lastname, Firstname M. Lastname, and F Lastname, and you might see different forms in different places, but the underlying name will never change. This is because Google Scholar was built by, and for, cis men with unchanging Western-style names. The "almost anyone" who you can search for excludes trans people, among a lot of other people it represents poorly. And because Scholar will not change, it should perish.
I fought the goog, and the goog won I changed my name in research, retroactively. I broke the assumptions of Google Scholar, and Google Scholar hid my papers from search results when it couldn't model what was going on with them. It would particularly suppress search results for my new name, which were just confusing distractors for the results it really wanted to show, for my deadname. If you ask it how to cite me, it will auto-generate you a citation of my deadname. I fought hard to remove citations of my deadname, replace PDF files, take down papers I couldn't replace, take away all the evidence of my deadname that I possibly could. Not to keep it from the eyes of people, but to keep it out of the Google Scholar model. I partially succeeded in making my new name more searchable, and even got it to show up in the auto-generated citations in some circumstances. For a fleeting moment, I claimed victory. But Google Scholar countered by finding my absolute most obscure things that count as publications, ones that I can't kill because they were not really alive in the first place, and bringing them to the top of my search results, so it can use them to keep helpfully directing you to my deadname. Signing in and claiming papers on an "author page" doesn't help, because author pages are one tiny link in search results that nobody clicks through, because the papers are already right there. Most trans people quit research rather than deal with this, and even though I found myself with more energy and opportunity to fight for my name than most, I quit research too.
There! We fixed it for cis people Google knows about this. I raised the issue with them in February 2019. It became an internal bug report in July 2019, which I have never seen, but from what I've heard about it, it quickly went far astray from what I was trying to tell them. "Allies" inside Google came up with extremely dumbass theories of how to represent trans people in a way that fit Google's preconceptions. I've posted about the problem at various times on social media (mostly Twitter when that was a thing). I tweeted about how Google's name model doesn't even work for cis women, given that many women change their names at some point in their lives. This got some traction and led to an amazingly quick response, along the lines of "oh shit! We fixed it for cis women." The new feature they added allowed a person (who had claimed papers using a Google account) to link together their multiple names, as long as they were okay with all the names being shown at the top of their search results. The first trans person to try using the feature was extremely surprised and dismayed by the prominence it gave to their deadname, and asked "do you think they talked to even a single trans person about this feature?" Nobody has ever heard Anurag Acharya, the creator of Google Scholar, say anything about the problem of name changes on his platform, or really anything attributable to him at all. But I know he knows about it.
The one time we got their attention Google got banned as a sponsor of Queer in AI, partially because of Google Scholar, though if you ask most people now they'll say it's because they profit from AI weapons systems. Which is also a thing. But Google Scholar was enough of a part of the issue that an exec actually got on the phone with non-Googlers about it for the first time. The exec was Jeff Dean, head of AI, whose organization does not actually include Google Scholar. When pressed on the issue by Queer in AI, he defended Scholar's lack of name changes, saying -- I believe this to be a direct quote -- "we have to ensure accurate information". Calling trans people by their names does not fall under the category of "accurate information" to the latently transphobic Jeff Dean. In another rare instance of public communication, a couple of painfully assimilationist trans Google FTEs promoted a horrible idea where publishers would have an API for informing Google that someone's name had changed in their archives. That's right, you wouldn't control your own name, dozens of publishers would, all with their own processes ranging from gatekeepy to nonexistent, and you'd have to out yourself and beg to every one of them to press the Here's A Trans Person button. The only good thing about this proposal is that it was so obviously unworkable that they didn't do it. Aside: If you are a Google full time employee, and you are trans, you are assimilationist. I'm sorry. I know your life circumstances mean you have to be. There used to be non-assimilationists there, and they joined the union and got illegally fired in 2019, or they quit in solidarity with the people who were fired in 2019 or 2021, and that leaves you, keeping your head down and keeping your job. You're still reading this paragraph, and that's amazing, so here's what I need you to know: from your position, you cannot advocate for the needs of trans non-Googlers, unless you allow trans non-Googlers into the conversation. Contract workers, though, you're cool. You fought for a trans man, working at a Google data center, to stop having to wear his deadname on his badge, and you won.
There is a solution I know that Google would not invest a lot of development effort into fixing a pet project like Google Scholar (though, again, "we fixed it for cis women" came remarkably quickly). I know that Google is institutionally incapable of letting people control their own identity without being a gatekeeper, that it's just not in the realm of things they dream of. There is still a solution. It's so easy. It plays to Google's strengths. There's even a business argument for it. They just need to shut it down. Google Scholar can have a plot in the Google graveyard next to Hangouts, Picasa, AngularJS, Cardboard, Inbox, Orkut, Knol, and the dearly departed Reader. It will be missed, for a bit, and then real librarians and archivists can get back to doing the job that Google monopolized. They'll know how to do it better this time. The Internet Archive is already doing it, and they let trans people change their names. I made a site about all this, scholar.hasfailed.us. I haven't been raising the issue enough since the fall of Twitter, and I think it's time that I get back to it.
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0vergrowngraveyard · 4 months
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It was another quiet and still night in Green Hill.
Sonic was sitting on his bed in Tails’ lab, leaned up against the wall of his room. He didn’t use his bed very often, he always preferred the couch since it was easy to just plop down on and pass out, but he’d been using it a lot recently.
He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to use the usually forgotten room. It's not like what piece of furniture he decided to lay on really mattered, he rarely slept either way.
Ever since he returned from the Shatterspace, everything just felt…different.
It wasn’t a good or bad thing, it was just different.
He was different.
And it’s not like he was very discreet about it, his friends definitely noticed. They just never said anything about it.
Well…that wasn’t entirely true. There was one person who occasionally hinted at his concern, but was never direct about it.
He knew the hedgehog too well to do that.
He looked down at the back of one of his gloved hands. For a split second, his white gloves turn grayish with white lines forming a grid, a familiar piece of technology at the center of his hand.
He blinked and it was gone.
Sonic sighed, putting his hand being his head, his other resting on his stomach, as he closed his eyes.
“Sonic?”
His ears perked up at the sound of his name. A small, fond smile forced its way onto the hedgehog’s muzzle as he opened his eyes halfway, his emerald green eyes meeting the baby blues that belonged to his little brother.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, kiddo?”
Tails’ expression went from unreadable to annoyed in record time, an all too familiar glare forming a knot in Sonic’s stomach. A small pout formed on the kit’s lips as he averted his gaze downwards.
“And before you go and call me a hypocrite,” He moved the hand that was situated on his stomach, bringing it to about shoulder height and pointing down. “I am in bed.”
“You know that’s not what you mean by that.“ Tails groaned, rubbing his gloveless paw down his face. “And I was but I…I just…nevermind.”
Eyes slightly wider, Sonic took another look over his brothers’ appearance. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, gloves, or even socks, all four brown paws visible, and his fur was slightly ruffled. He always wore at least socks and gloves in his workshop and if the fuss he made anytime Sonic messed with him was anything to go by, he hated his fur being unnecessarily messy.
The kid was right, he had been in bed.
He noticed Tails starting to turn to leave and he sat up a little straighter as he swallowed past the lump forming in his throat.
He really didn’t want him to go.
“D’you have a nightmare?” Sonic asked him, desperately hoping that his voice sounded normal enough but alas, the kid could read him like an open book. The look he gave him definitely suggested that his voice wavered a bit.
Tails fidgeted with the tip of one of his namesakes and glanced back at the floor. “N-no, I just…it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”
Sonic begged to differ, Tails never came looking for him when he was upset anymore — even during thunderstorms, he’d argue that he was too old to look for comfort in his big brother and that he should be able to handle it himself — so the fact that the kit was standing in his doorway looking upset meant something was wrong.
And Sonic had a pretty good idea as to what it was.
“I can guarantee you it’s not, bud. What’s botherin’ ya?”
Tails was quiet for a few seconds, most likely debating if he should voice his worries. His grip on his tail tightened as he took a sharp breath, mentally preparing for the daunting task that telling your big brother about what’s bothering you apparently is.
“It’s just…” He started, refusing to meet his eyes, “ever since we got back from the cave with the whole prism thing, you’ve been…weird.”
Sonic’s mouth pressed into a line, it seemed he had guessed correctly.
“You’re constantly trying to be around us, but you’re also distant. A-and…it sorta feels like you’re walking on eggshells around me specifically.”
The kit’s ears pressed against the back of his head. “So uh…I guess I just wanted to ask if I did anything to upset you recently?”
Sonic just stared at him. The answer was no, easy. It was pretty much always no. Tails could never upset him. But the words were caught in his throat.
Because that was it, wasn’t it? Tails could never upset him, but someone who looked exactly like him did (well, he wouldn’t say that Nine upset him, either. It was more like he scared him, but even that felt a little harsh.)
He knew it was wrong, projecting one two-tailed fox onto another. He thought he’d learned his lesson, but considering his baby brother was standing at his doorway at the ass crack of dawn, hurt by the way he’d been subconsciously treating him like he had been the one who tried to steal his prism energy, it was pretty obvious that he hadn’t.
But he couldn’t help it that everytime he looked into the kit’s eyes, all he saw was that angry and hurt version of him.
He must’ve been staring for too long because a small “I’m sorry…” snapped him back to reality.
Tails had shrunken in on himself, looking smaller than he usually did. He looked so…young. He looked so guilty even though he hadn’t even done anything. He turned to leave, namesake still in his hands.
Sonic sighed, spreading one arm open. “C’mere bud.”
Tails’ eyes went wide in disbelief…and embarrassment.
“W-what? No-! no. It’s fine, really. I can go, there’s no need for this. Really! I’ll—“
“My arm’s gettin’ tired kiddo.” The hedgehog said, gesturing his head towards the open spot next to him. “Ya got like, 10 seconds.”
Tails hesitantly took a step forward, looking up at his brother to see what he’d do and once nothing happened, he took another step and looked up again.
Then he walked as fast as he could to his brother’s bed, climbing up and curling into his side. Sonic let out a chuckle as he pulled his little brother close to him, Tails responding by snuggling closer.
They sat in silence for a while. Sonic gently rubbed the kit’s back as he blankly stared ahead. The sound of palm leaves gently rustling in the wind was the only thing that filled the air.
“I really am sor—“ Tails started to say, but he was cut off by Sonic ruffling his fur.
“Shush, you.” The hedgehog said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”
He looked down to see the kit looking at him, a confused expression on his face. “But-“
“Nope. I’ve just been a little stupid is all. Nothing that’s your fault.” Sonic expected the quiet that would follow, so he let his guard down, until he heard a small snicker coming from the fox kit.
“That’s a recent development?”
Unfortunately, he forgot how cruel his beloved baby brother could be.
Sonic’s gaze shot towards the kit, his expression turned to one of obviously fake shock as his brother giggled quietly into his side. He squeezed the kit as hard as he could without actually causing damage, Tails wheezing out a laugh in response.
“And here I was having a moment, speaking from the heart and all that, and this is what I get?” He said in a joking tone in between Tails’ giggles.
“You set yourself up for that one, don’t blame me!” The kit said, earning being trapped in a headlock and dragged halfway onto the hedgehog’s lap and noogied mercilessly. “Sonic!”
“Nuh uh, you don’t get any mercy after that!”
They both continued to laugh for a few minutes. Sonic dragged his little brother fully onto his lap, the kit squeaking as the hedgehog wrapped both arms around him in a tight hug. “Sorry for makin’ ya feel like something was wrong, bud.” he said.
Tails snuggled up against his big brother’s chest, feeling nothing but the security, love and warmth he’d grown up with flowing throughout his body as he melted into the hedgehog’s touch, a soft purr making itself known. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Sonic’s arms stayed looped around the kit as he leaned back and closed his eyes, the rumbling from the fox’s chest soothing the knot that had formed in his own, just like it always did.
The comfortable silence returned. Sonic was glad that the conversation turned light hearted. He didn’t think he was ready to even begin to explain whatever the hell happened in the Shatterverse, especially to Tails. Not when he knew the kit would blame himself no matter how many times he was told not to.
As the hedgehog felt his brother slowly drifting into slumber, his soft breathes slowly evening out, he suddenly felt a burning need to say something to him. Something he never usually said out loud because he never needed to. It always went without saying, that’s just how close their bond was.
But after everything that happened…
“Hey, bud?” He whispered, the kit stirring as he gently tapped him.
“I love you, Miles. I don’t want you to ever forget that, ok?”
Wide blue eyes snapped up at him, blinking owlishly. He was definitely confused by the use of his real name, but instead of voicing that confusion, he just smiled and nuzzled into his brother’s chest.
“Love you too, Sonic.”
Somewhere in the Shatterverse, there was another twin-tailed fox kit who sat alone in The Grim. Another Miles who had no big brother to cuddle with when he had nightmares or when he was just worried that he had somehow hurt his feelings.
Deep down, Sonic hoped his words would somehow reach him just as they reached the twin-tailed fox kit asleep on his chest.
He leaned forward, placing a light kiss on the top of his little brother’s head before he slowly followed the kit into slumber.
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pickingupmymercedes · 4 months
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Wrong for me - Charles Leclerc
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📷 @/nicolo.furicchia
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! f1 related! reader (the reader is a tp's daughter, I wrote with Toto in mind but there's no names)
song: Angels - Miley Cyrus
warnings: angsty but happy-ish ending
wordcount: 1k
a/n: Bit of a short one but it is my first time writing for Charles, so would you guys give some feedback? Also I'm thinking of opening up requests for drivers x readers with songs inspirations, I actually really like to take songs as inspirations
I know that you’re wrong for me, gonna wish we never met on the day I leave
It was everything your father had warned you not to do, yet it was everything you’ve thought about ever since he walked through the f1 paddock back in 2018. You knew he was wrong for you, but the very thought of each other consumed every inch of logical judgment in both of you. He had a couple of girlfriends since, they were all nice and polite, you tried to stay away but it didn’t make much of a difference. Their official reason for the break ups were the hardships of dating a driver, but he would tell you sometime later some of the exact words he heard were “Why am I always so sure your mind is on her?”.
A puppy love that had burned bright for a little over 6 months when you were still 16 but somehow had managed to quietly find its way through to today. Only this time the flame had threatened to burn not only your hearts but the entirety of his and your father’s team. The tension between the two of you had always been evident to those who knew what had happened back then, but as the 2024 season went further it was more than obvious to anyone with eyes that there was something there. Feelings and desire neither of you would dare to act upon and that would further build an atmosphere that could be felt and cut with a knife, making you wish every day you had never met.
When you finally realized you had the same effect he did on you, hurting him was how you protected yourself from giving in to the urge to fall head first into a love that you believed would not be able to thrive. So as his relationships crumbled down to their inevitable ends, you embarked in a string of meaningless flings in search of someone that would take your mind off of the one thing that you truly wanted.
Bringing him down to his knees with every ghosting you’d purposely inflict him, finding some unimportant meeting to attend instead of where you said you’d be, all the while excitedly celebrating his first win, birthday or even little achievements, moments of weakness you’d let your true emotions surface, only to shut him out right after, pledging to not drag him down the rabbit hole that was your blinding infatuation, with what you believed to be his way out of “misery loves company”.
Some of the drivers, protective as they had become of you, caught on pretty early how although Charles wouldn’t confess his affections, he would never candidly deny them either, which resulted in rising untrust between some of them, with your father on the other hand taking the blind eye approach and ignoring what was obvious until he couldn’t anymore.
You tried to pretend things were taken care of, but every time you found yourselves in the same space sparks could almost be seen coming from every other direction. The breaking point being a very public and loud display of how tense things were between you and him one Saturday night at the paddock, the motive long forgotten as both of you screamed at the top of your lungs for things the other had no fault. The frustration of walking on egg shells around each other clearly evident on the screaming match, and your father’s first intervention resulting in two grown adults looking like sulking toddlers who had just been told they had to deal with their emotions before anyone got seriously hurt in the cross fire.
That wasn’t the last time, and although you would try to keep discussions and screaming matches alike from happening, the public stares and midnight bedroom escapades escalated to a point where everyone decided enough was enough, and you were both locked at the FIA conference room, to either “kiss or scream it out” – their exact words.
“I’m not like your past relationship, Charles. I won’t bring you security, peace and quiet. I’m a mess and you know it, you’ve seen it. Everything I touch turns into a huge media monster and I’m fated to lose every single person I love. It’s not your fault I ruin everything, and it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need” You confessed, looking him with bloodshot eyes, tears falling freely.
“I don’t want them, I want you. Baggage and all, media attention and crazy fans, protective father and f1 drivers haunting me for years to come… The mess and everything they always said you’d be, because that’s the woman I fell in love with.” And although you had reservations on what you believed could be a relationship with the power to destroy his life, and potently his career, you gave in, letting your heart speak louder than your fears.
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doberbutts · 4 months
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We have a little free pantry in our front yard (toothbrushes, tampons, shelf-stable snacks bottled water, etc.), and I read a lot about people's experiences having one online before we put ours up re: expectations about potential interactions with people using it, but nothing prepared me for how weirdly aggro *other* people sometimes get about us having it as a form of "activism" as opposed to some other, more nebulous idea of broader social change. "Don't you think it'd be better to volunteer at or donate money to a homeless shelter, so those people can get the actual help they need?" "Shouldn't you focus more on trying to campaign for policy changes that will help more people than one street corner if you care about this problem?" "Isn't doing that a waste of time?" "Aren't you just encouraging people not to get help?" I do that other stuff when I can. This is something small I can do - in addition to raising awareness and fighting for bigger change, when I have the time and money and spoons - and at least, when I don't. It's crazy to me to approach social justice issues with such an all-or-nothing mindset as some people seem to. I've met enough of the individuals who utilize it to know it makes a difference in a very tangible way for the people directly around me.
No, I agree entirely.
Corny and dated as it is, there's a reason the saying is "be the change you want to see". If no one within the community puts in the work to fix the community's problems, even in little bits and pieces, then how will anything change? Raising awareness only goes so far. What happens when all anyone is, is aware? Aware, and still doing nothing, waiting for someone else to put in the work.
Sometimes, that someone is going to need to be you. You can't just wait around and wait for someone else to do it for you.
If I see someone digging through the trash for food, I wave them over and offer them food from my house or fresh food from a store or take them to a restaurant where they can order whatever they want. If I'm getting groceries and I see someone very obviously homeless struggling to pay for their food, I tell the cashier to add it to my bill. No one starves in front of me. Ever since I stopped needing to rely on food stamps, no one starves in front of me.
This past summer I saw someone splayed out on the sidewalk in 95F weather in direct sunlight. I couldn't tell if he was unconscious from drugs or passed out from the heat or just simply had fallen asleep in the shade and then the sun moved. I was getting groceries so I added a bunch of hot chicken to my order plus several bottles of refrigerated water. I went over to him and woke him and explained that I was worried he needed medical attention. He'd passed out because he was tired, he told me. I offered him the hot food and the water and he thanked me, telling me he'd run out of water the night before and food the day before that and didn't have any money to get any more.
Everyone else had been walking around him like he was just an obstacle on the sidewalk. No one had thought to offer any help. When I walked away, some folks who saw me told me that that was very nice of me. I don't think it was nice of me. I think that's just what you should do if you see someone obviously in distress. They agreed that he seemed like he needed the help. They didn't act. They agreed that the compassionate and right thing to do was to offer assistance and make sure he was okay. But they didn't do it. They waited for someone else to do it.
I've mentioned in passing that I volunteer for the local teen LGBT club, helping lost gay kids find their way and maybe not kill themselves about it. It's not much. I mostly just text back and forth with whatever kids get my number from the adults that run the thing. Sometimes I give them tips and advice. Sometimes I'm just the cool gay uncle they tell about their latest school drama. Once or twice I've served one of them lunch on my couch while my dogs smother them with affection and they cry about their latest heartbreak. I don't do speeches or history lessons or anything like that. I don't think I'm qualified for it, in honesty. But if even one of them doesn't commit suicide, if even one of them doesn't self-harm, if even one of them no longer feels all alone in the world because I'm there when they reach out to me, that's enough.
Today on my commute to work, the guy in front of me had a major wipeout on his motorcycle. I stopped my car in a position that none of the other cars could hit him, and asked if he was okay, and waited until his friend (also on a motorcycle) had circled back around to help him off the road and check him over. I left once his friend waved me away. I offered to call an ambulance but he refused.
A couple weeks ago, also on my commute, a woman was stopped on the side of the road, waving her arms at drivers, shouting for help. I stopped. The other drivers didn't. Her car had died, she was new to town, and she was somewhere that notoriously doesn't get cell service. I helped her call a tow truck. It wasn't a trap. She didn't want to hitchhike. She just was stuck and panicked about it.
I stop and help animals get off the road. I've lost count on how many turtles I've carried to the other side. I helped my neighbor search for a dog he saw get hit by a car so he could take it to the vet. I shoveled my elderly neighbor's driveway for her, and talked my boss into giving her a major discount for her little dog's dental in which pretty much every tooth needed extraction or he would die. When I still lived in that rental with my roommates, we were surrounded by kids. Every kid on the block knew we were a safe house to go to. If they needed food or water, if they needed entertainment, if they needed just somewhere to be, they could be at our place. When covid started, I did a "reverse halloween" since Halloween was canceled, and I put bags of candy on every doorstep that I knew had kids inside. I've done a "neighborhood santa" putting a small toy plus a small gift card for the parents on every doorstep that has kids, for as long as I've lived around kids.
When I say activism requires action, I don't mean that every single person is required to save a thousand lives. The honest answer is, unless you have a lot of disposable time and money, you probably won't. But you can still make a difference. To one. To ten. To twenty.
And you know what? I'm not saying black people specifically came up with this- but how can you be surprised to know this is how I live my life when I say over and over that I was raised by black activists who lived during MLK Jr and Malcolm X and knew community action would have the longest-lasting effects? Of course I do all this. That's what being part of a community *is*.
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🎶🎻 let's see if this actually helps me find this later
WIBTA for marking up my friend's sheet music?
ok so I (15m) have a friend (17f) and we both play cello in the classical music ensemble at our school. we have both been playing cello for approx 7 years. we had very different musical upbringings: she learned to play cello in a class with a bunch of other kids, and from what I gather there were many other instruments and the teacher took kind of a hands-off approach, which is typical for the kind of elementary school she went to. I, on the other hand, learned through private lessons (which I don't think I'm better for, it's just different) and my teacher (who I still take piano and cello lessons from) is a little bit obsessive when it comes to correct technique and stuff. I care a little less about technique than my teacher, but I definitely developed quite a few of her habits: I always pay really close attention to what the sheet music tells me, especially dynamics and which direction my bow needs to go in, or how many notes I'm playing in a bow stroke. part of this is because that's what the composer would have wanted and also because when I started my teacher would make me mark everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in my sheet music. we're talking fingerings, bow markings, highlighting every chreschendo and decrescendo, putting the counting in for all of the rhythms and more. now I typically only mark super important things, like if I keep forgetting a note or something, and I rarely mark my cello sheet music in ensembles, though everyone has seen me mark my bass music, since I'm new to bass.
Recently, since it's about 2/3rds of the way through the school year and we have a good group, my ensemble has been playing more challenging stuff. the parts or more intricately layered and dynamics are a pretty big thing, especially for the cello section, since we basically have one line for half of a piece which is just to play some half notes that crescendo and decrescendo over and over. and it's like, all we do, like it's a pretty big part of the song. the issue is that my friend just kind of ignores the dynamic markings and bowings in the music and what the other cellists are doing (there's three of us, including me and her and she sits in between us) so she just kinda plays the piece at the same volume. the whole time. and it's written right there. and she's heard me play it solo without the ensemble before, so in theory she knows how to do it. and after seven years of playing the cello, you should have the bow control to play quietly.
now, this wouldn't annoy me so much if her ignorance wasn't a recurring thing. last year, we played aquarius with the jazz ensemble and we both really liked the piece. except we had this one part. we had to play a bunch of tied whole notes in the beginning. just two in a row and then we'd change bows. (if you don't play an instrument, a tied note is basically when the note is played over two measures, in this case we would play the same note fore eight beats, and then reverse the direction of our bow) now, I can hold my bow in one direction for eight beats. it's not fun or easy and I'd rather play a melody or bass line to begin with, but if you're playing quietly (like we were supposed to be) you can maintain a pretty steady pace for eight beats in one bow. my friend NEVER did this. she would just run her bow back and forth on the note until we moved on to the next and then do the same there. and I'm talking like she'd play maybe ten notes while we played one. which, obviously, through off the rhythm. we weren't as close last year and I didn't know she'd been playing as long as she had, so I ignored it. but, she kept doing it and she still does. I've confronted her about it multiple times, saying how it's like if you breathed half way through a note on a wind instrument, how it messes us up because her bow will go in a different direction than the other cellos and hit me in the elbow a lot, and how it makes us look weirdly messy. every time she just kind of says okay and walks off.
now, I think my friend could benefit from having her sheet music marked like my teacher used to make me, because clearly just mentioning it to her is not enough and as we move on to harder music it's making us look worse. so, wibta if I brought some extra pens and highlighters and reminded her to circle or highlight different dynamic, rhythmic and bowing notations if she doesn't play them the first few times?
What are these acronyms?
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acotarxreader · 1 month
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Shadow and Flame pt 4
Azriel X Reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, punchable High Lords
A/N: Okay Part 4, added action and suspense with higher stakes hehe Please let me know what you think, your words are so encouraging. Also as an aside Lúdás is an Irish word for traitor, a little trivia in there for you, without the fadas for ease of your own pronunciation.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
*********
Drip, drip, drip.
You rolled the back of your head along the damp brick, trying to release tension from your shoulders, knees cuddled into your chest for some ounce of warmth. Your hollowed eyes resembled the deep chasms beneath the Autumn Court where your cell rotted and shuddered. The soaking air leeching any semblance of inferno from you.
Drip, drip, drip.
You groaned at the sounds of your Father's guards passing through the jail corridors, throwing a glance towards you as they marked your presence. Three months of the same routine. Three months since your father rebroke your bones and shattered your soul but Azriel was safe, Velaris was safe. A consolation prize. You had stopped crying soon after being locked down there, mourning a life for a moment you thought you could have. 
Drip, drip, drip.
*********
“At what point do we just get a big net and steal him away in the night?” 
“It's not funny Cass” Feyre reprimanded the Illyrian, the Inner Circle gathered for a family dinner in The House Of Wind, Azriel notably absent. Plates piled high with food went untouched as you were once again the topic of conversation. 
“Well it's gone beyond sulking, he's locked up in his room, staring at a candle he won't let anyone blow out, he's frightening the staff'' Amren glanced towards the staircase leading in the direction of Azriels chambers. 
Elain lurched forward suddenly, the table turning to her in confusion.
“Something is- something is wrong with Lucien” the table looked frantic between one another. No one had seen Lucien since Azriel had all but banished him from the circle. Cassian flew from the chair up the stairs, crashing into Azriels chambers to find it empty. 
“Azriels gone!” Panic grew in all of them. Had he gone back for more? The table dispersed in chaos, darting in different directions to where they believed they'd find the two. 
*****
“Azriel, this is becoming very much too Illyrian for me” Lucien stood suppressing his shaking legs, blood running from his face.
“No such thing” Azriels eyes were wild, scorch marks scratching his leathers. The two stood warrior stance ready, books, papers, and furniture askew across the scope of Lucien's office in Velaris. Azriel had had enough, enough waiting, enough wondering, enough hurting. He believed you ran from him that night three months ago and he had become determined to find you again, to beg for clarity. Lucien had the information he needed, he was able to get to you before and he would help Azriel get you now, even if Illyrian persuasion was needed. 
“I will not tell you about YN, I do not know the answers to your questions” Not all untrue for the Prince of Foxes. He had begged his father for leniency towards you, offered himself for replacement but it was no good, he was iced out by his family's court once again. Lucien couldn't tell him any of that, he didn't want Azriel chasing Autumn's Daughter enraging their father further
“You lie!”
“I do not! And I do not understand this infatuation-” 
“Infatuation! That's what YN said I had that day in the woods, that came from you! Now tell me your meeting place!” Azriel threw his shadows to slam into Lucien, knocking him for a moment off balance. That's all Azriel needed, he sprung for the Emissary, pinning him to the bookcase of his study, sending more books crashing. Truth Teller now in hand, Lucien allowed panic to show in his eyes as Azriels raged in storms and clouded pain.
“I-will-not-tell-you-where-my-sister-is” Lucien choked out, face rapidly losing colour. Sister. Sister. Sister. The word crashed over Azriel, he released the pressure stepping back. Lucien caught his throat and massaged his crushed windpipe. Shit he thought, blaming the temporary cut-off of oxygen on his admission. 
“Azriel!” Rhysand winnowed into the chaotic scene with Cassian by his side. Azriel stood, pale face, processing.
“You lie again Emissary” he seethed
“I do not, she is the Autumn Court's daughter, my…our father's pride and joy. She is…she is his to use” he slumped slightly, the nature of the Court of Autumn's conduct always a source of disgrace for him. Azriel pushed his mind from having an existential crisis, his whole purpose for existing was to know everything about everyone and you had fully slipped through the cracks, what else had he missed in work?
“Oh my Gods, Az you fucked Lucien's sister” Cassian broke the silence in a very Cassian way, Rhysand hitting him in the chest. 
“You. What?” Lucien bit out, flames came to his side once more, cocking his head in challenge. 
“I-” Lucien leapt forward tackling the conflicted Shadowsinger, sending him sailing to the ground as they rolled in hand-to-hand combat. Cassian caught Rhysands arm, pulling him back from intervening with a “let them at it” facial expression. 
“FIRST YOU COME FOR MY MATE! THEN YOU COME FOR MY SISTER! IS NOTHING SACRED TO YOU HEATHENS!” Lucien blared as Azriel rolled, using his wings for the upper hand, rolling until he was on top of Lucien.
“YOUR FUCKING SISTER IS MY MATE” Azriel had Lucien pinned by the arms to the floor as he roared, the air almost sucked from the room at the silence that followed. Azriel let Lucien's arms go with a thud before standing again, dusting the soot off his leathers. Lucien pushed up off the floor, wiping a forearm along his bloody lip.
 
“Az” Rhysand tried softly as Azriel strode over to look out the window of the study, down on the winding streets of his beloved city. He raised his hand without facing the three, needing a moment of reprieve. 
Lucien looked at Azriels two lost Illyrian brothers before moving cautiously behind the Shadowsinger, laying the most gentle of hands on one of his shoulders, soft heat radiating through. 
“Azri- Az we will get my sis- your Mate back” Azriels wings slumped slightly at his frenemy's words. 
A maroon envelope burst into the room to land on Luciens desk, the four looking conflicted towards it.
***************
“Stand” the darkened figures' chilling voice carried through the dimly lit passageway and across the cell bars. You released a breath from your long broken soul before standing on weakened wobbly legs, the weighted shackles tethering your wrists grinding against your movement. Rings of water encased in the shackles for good measure.
“Arm” was grunted at you as the cell door unlocked itself allowing the males to step in. 
“Ludas, we went to training camp together. Can you at least look at me when you order me around?” you raised your eyebrow to the tall male figure in front of you. The back of his hand sliced into your face with centuries of training and force, sending you crashing to the floor swearing as you slammed into it.
“Do not speak out of turn” 
“Oh I am so telling your mother when I get out of here” you scoffed, spitting the blood in your mouth at his shoes and pushing back off the rocky wet ground, the male slightly tensing at your words. 
“Get it over with, whatever lashings you have” you threw out your arm and closed your eyes waiting for the whip that didn't come. Only a weight release from your wrist. Your eyelids shot open to find your shackles smashing to the floor, metal bracelets filled with water replacing them. Before you could question, a hood was thrown over your head, and a weight shot into your stomach as you sailed over Ludas’ shoulder. 
You landed with a thud on a cold solid floor, the sound of flame whispering sorrows for you. The hood was snatched, blinding sunlight sent your head screaming as you tried to adjust after three months below the Court. 
Your focusing eyes landed on Eris' face, who looked as though he'd seen a ghost and in some way that's what you were. Your copper eyes greying, mud and moss coating your hair, shirt and trousers torn to shreds from the beatings and rats you fought off nightly. A long call from the copper princess he saw you as the last time he saw you. Another deserter you thought to yourself. 
“Stand and smile Daughter-” your screaming eyes shot to the male sitting on the throne of your people.
“-it's the eve of your wedding day after all” vertigo. You felt vertigo. Your eyes spinning in your skull, unable to summon any ounce of strength until darkness met you once more. 
******
Lucien walked slowly towards the envelope as if it could strike him at any moment. The three watched, Azriel’s stomach beginning to do turns on itself. The headed paper slipped from its casing, the Autumn Court emblem proudly on display. Lucien's sorrowful gaze read down the sheet as if it were his very own life sentence but it was yours. The paper fell from his shaking hands to the floor beneath him as he turned and vomited into the filing cabinet adjacent. A wedding invitation addressed to the Night Court members.
**********
You woke up to the warmth of fire, fire not belonging to you, unsettling you instantly. You sat up in the brick red sheets, ignoring the whirlpool headache growing in you. You felt different, you felt clean. You looked down to see deep forest green silk covering you, your hand shooting to your now soft and shiny hair. Your trembling legs brought you to the mirror in the room you didn't recognise. You had returned to your beauty as if the past few months never happened. But there in the mirror, you saw the staunch reminder that it very much did, the metal and water bracelets swirling around your wrist like the bonds they were, tethering you without chains. Your hand found a small scar along your lip where Ludas had marked you, it still trying to stitch together under your weakened powers. 
Your eyes frantically searched the room for the door out, with none to be found, you had been winnowed into this new plush cell. You felt yourself roar. Roar and roar and roar. 
“YN! You'll wake the hounds!” You whipped around to your father's voice, how long had he been there? He looked so put together, so reserved, nowhere near the man who roasted your skin on flames of rage three months previous. 
“Leave me go, I've done my time, I-”
“Now does that sound very like me?” Beron laughed sickly, sitting himself down on the sofa, arms spread along the back, the picture of ease, his wild flame daughter tamed. He looked at you like you were his pawn to play and you had never felt so much so. 
“The Shadowsinger was an interesting side quest for you wasn't it?”
“Stop” he laughed at your attempt at defiance, you couldn't hear him speak of Azriel, he'd shatter you all over again. 
“Tomorrow you will marry the General of the Vallahan Legion-”
“-I will do no such thing!” You snapped, your father standing back to his feet. 
“This back-chatting is getting out of hand, where's my malleable piece of copper gone?” 
“You killed her” you said so eerily calm, unwavering steeliness growing in you. 
“Well I suggest she resurrects herself ahead of her nuptials” ice dripping from his voice as his searing touch caught your wrist pulling you in. 
“Vallahan will be powerful allies and I have graves picked out for you and your brother's precious night court. You will behave. You will do as I say or you will join them in the dirt”
“I will go to my grave regardless if you make me marry him” 
“That can be arranged once you've signed the dotted line for all I care” and you believed him. He didn't care once his pawn had moved into place who took her out. He stood again, easing over in your direction, his flames leaping to life, willing to ignite chaos at their master’s will.
“I hope you’ll cheer up dear, you’ll make your guests so very sad seeing a weeping bride, although not that they’ll be smiling for long” you went cold at his tone, what does that mean you screamed inside your head and he laughed as if he could hear you. 
“Well now YN, you know very well that I enjoy killing two birds with one stone”
“What are you planning?” 
“Oh please don’t say it with such hatred. I’m giving you a wedding present, one last look at your beloved Shadowsinger” your eyes went wild at his words, you moved to lunge for him in pure unadulterated anger but his flames wrapped around you pulling you to the ground without burning you. 
“Sleep well my piece of copper, big day for you tomorrow, I'm so proud” he caught your chin so roughly, eyes piercing through you, releasing your face with a jolt and dissolving into flame. 
******
Part 5
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tmntxthings · 8 months
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Hey, I hope this request motivates you a bit! I was wondering if you could do little scenarios with the Rise boys reacting to accidentally hitting their S/O while they stretched?
You know that thing that happens when you're standing too close to someone and they move or do something and end up hitting you in the face, it happened to me at college sobs 😭
Have a lovely day! <3
一∑ Accidents Happen・゜・。
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author’s note: sksksks sure sure, I wanna say this has happened to me too but I can’t recall a specific scenario which makes me think it has happened just I’ve obliterated it from my memory out of embarrassment?!?
note 2.0: so I did Raph’s first, forever ago and a bit of Leo’s then just now I did Donnie’s and Mikey’s, everyone’s is a bit different and it’s like 3am idk how to feel! BUT WE POST ANYWAYS
warnings: cursing, injuries caused by accident, attempts at humor, crack, fluff, unedited
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Raph was super excited to help you learn self-defense! It was a great skill to have. Just in case ya know! Plus it would make you feel more confident too.
“First things first! We gotta loosen up, I usually start with arm stretches.” Raph said with a toothy grin. He couldn’t stop smiling. He loved being able to hang out with you, but you had asked him personally to train you for self defense. Not any of his brothers! He was honored and didn’t want to mess up!
Raph then grabbed his left elbow and started to pull it, making the muscles there taunt. You immediately started to copy him. Asking if your form was right which had Raph moving closer and correcting you just slightly. “Just like that! Now other side!” And when Raph went through with the motion of doing his other arm, it was too late.
The smack resounded throughout the weight room and if things couldn’t be anymore horrible, because of his stature, he had quite literally smacked your face.
Stunned you held your cheek. It stung. And Raph was a ball of tears instantly. “Oh— Y/n!!!! Are you okay??? I’m so sorry!!! I didn’t mean to, I should’ve backed up!! I got too close and— Raph’s so so sorry.” He was on his knees in front of you. Telling you to smack his face in return. And you just laughed, saying that it was okay.
“Once I learn these self defense moves you won’t be able to land a hit like that again!” You joked.
Raph could only whimper. He felt horrible. He was a horrible teacher! And it took some convincing from you to get the ball rolling again. He sniffled here and there because he just couldn’t get it out of his mind. He was hard on himself for sure. Even though it was an accident he wouldn’t forgive himself!!
Leo was prone to doing weird shit randomly. Like striking a pose anywhere, anytime he saw fit. So while sure I could totally come up with a prompt for stretching like I did with Raph…but in my head…more realistically… it would be because Leo was up to his regular shenanigans again!
He had texted you not that long ago that he was planning on portal-ing over! It was a common occurrence, it made for traveling back and forth to the lair fast. If only the side effects wouldn’t hit you like that one ride at the fair, the Spaceship 9000?? The one that spins, and spins, and spins so fast that the piece of metal your buckled into moves up and down??? Right?? I’ve only went on it once so this is like a very bad descriptor but hopefully someone knows what the heck I’m talking about.
Going through a Leo portal was like that. The feeling of getting spun around so much that your stomach didn’t feel like it was in your body anymore. More like it was splattered all over the ground. Or three miles back in the direction from which you came. You wondered absentmindedly if all portals were like that. Or if that was just because of Leo?
Anyhow, it had been a while since he had sent you that message. You were used to him coming instantly after sending the message. Really not even giving you enough time to read the damn text! You sighed and got up from your bed and headed to the living room where he would be portal-ing in. But instead of going to the couch, you wanted to try and guess where the fool would land. Maybe closer to the actual door, as if he had used it to begin with?
It was while you were thinking, that a blue portal opened above head not but mere inches to the left of you. There had been no whirring or whizzing noises. No “Geronimo!!” Or “Heads up!” call outs. It was ninja silent stealth mode at which Leo came in. Eyes closed, and once he was through, only then did he holler, “And he sticks the landi—“
A loud thwack could be heard as one of his hands collided into you as he did a ridiculous windmill motion with his arms to steady himself. And it hurt like hell where he had slapped your arm. “Shiiiiiiiiiiiittttt!” The force had knocked you a little ways away too! As you held your arm where it stung and closed your eyes to not start crying, and then your mouth to not start yelling.
“Y/n???” Leo opened his eyes and shook the hand that had hit your arm. “My bad! You’re usually in your room when I come, and I just— I don’t know!” He rambled, a nervous smile on his face as he watched you close up.
Silence. Breathing. That was all that could be heard. Leo started feeling really guilty. He hadn’t been holding back his strength because he was an idiot and didn’t know you were there. “I’m really sorry..” he murmured. Not coming in close because he didn’t want to anger you further.
“It’s..cool!” You shook your arm, eyes opening and god damn it they were watery. “Oh no it’s not. Let me get you some ice. Fuck. I’m really really sorry.” Leo springs into action at the sight of your unshed tears. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” You tried to console him but didn’t deny the need for ice. Relief was felt when the ice pack met your skin. “Still wanna come over?” He asked timidly, wondering if he had ruined today in general too. “Duh, I’m going to be fine Leo! How about we stop for ice cream, on you and then it’s all even mkay?”
Because you knew if you didn’t say this then he would just continue to hold onto the guilt despite all your words and reassurances. “One waffle cone coming up!!” Leo cheered, his dramatics back on as he twirled a sword to make another flashy portal, you could only hope you would survive the journey.
Donnie has a stick. “Technically Y/n, it’s a bo. Bo staff. Not a stick.” Your eyes narrowed in on his weapon of choice. “Looks like a metal stick to me.” You told him plainly. He huffed. He knew that his weapon wasn’t always the one to wow people away. It wasn’t flashy like some people *cough* *cough* leo *cough*. “Okay I lied, it’s not just a bo, it’s a tech bo!” Donnie emphasized, spinning the said weapon around between his fingers before making it land on the ground vertically. Before you could question further he clicked a very inconspicuous spot on the bo, which was basically a finger-print reader that took half a millisecond to expand out and show off a variety of other weapons attached to his bo.
A saw, a drill, and the list could go on but those were the main two you recognized before it contracted back into stick form as you liked to call it. “Nice,” you nodded, giving Donnie his props where they were due, because it was pretty cool. It was like a multi-tool. You said that aloud too.
“Yeah but way better cause I made it.” Donnie amended because he couldn’t allow himself to be compared to such everyday items. He was better. Much better.
You opened your palm out, “can I try?” Insinuating you wanted a go at holding his stick. Well, his tech bo. But he made you spell it out for him. “Try what exactly?” He asked, right eyebrow raising. “Holding the stick” “It’s not a stick.” “Okay okay, can I try to hold the tech stick?” “Maybe, if you say it properly and also realize that you are most definitely going to hurt yourself with my tech bo.”
You made a face at that. “I most certainly am not!” You retorted and made a grab for the tEcH bO. It was out of your reach before you could even get close. And this game of keep away continued until you, asked with a “pretty please can I hold your almighty tech bo!?” Donnie was satisfied, clearly, with a smug look on his face as he allowed you to snatch it away from his hold. Finally.
You turned it around in your hands. Making slow circles. Donnie immediately trying to coach you on a better method, “Your feet aren’t in the right position~!” He chirped happily, as if correcting you was an absolute pleasure. He continued to badger you, despite your genuine efforts to improve. And at one point it all became too much, like he was being haughty. Holding it over your head that you weren’t catching on quickly.
“I get it Donnie! I suck!” You yelled and brought the metal bo down sharply. Right on your toes. You did have socks on. But the thin material did nothing to prevent the instant pain that had you crumpling down, bo falling out of your hand to instead cradle your injured foot.
It was embarrassing. The loud clatter of the bo hitting the ground, the rush of Donnie coming in close, kneeling to try and analyze the damage. You were so angry and so embarrassed that despite the pain, you pushed him away. Sniffling and whimpering, “Leave me alone!” You cried. And yep you were crying. Rocking back and forth now on your butt in an attempt to somehow ease the pain that was flowing from your toes, through your foot, all the way up to your ankle. Had you broken something?!?
Of course you hadn’t pushed him far, nor hard enough to knock him down. But he felt horrible. He felt like he was the reason this had all happened in the first place. Egging you on and messing with your head, truly being a bit of a jerk. “Just let me look please? It may be broken Y/n, it’s..high grade titanium…” he muttered the last bit because he was in no way trying to show that off in this moment. And the look in your eyes when you finally met his concerned stare was heartbreaking. He saw how red and puffy they were from the agitated tears, your cheeks ruddy as well. “Please?” He tried again. Coming in close hands up and out as a show of meaning no harm.
Slowly, your hand came away from your own toes, and Donnie peeled off your sock and assessed the injury. Light touches here and there and profusely apologized when you hissed in pain. “It’s not broken! Just bruised, pretty badly, I’ll go get some ice and then some wraps, just stay right there, don’t move!” And he was off moving swiftly as went in search for the items he required.
He gave you the ice, letting you decide how much pressure to put on the wound, and he stayed silent as he got out a few different wraps. As your tears dried and the sniffling ceased, you noticed how serious Donnie looked. When he came back down to kneel by your foot, he decided to checkup the entire area. “What about this, does this hurt?” He asked pressing lightly on a different part on the top of your foot. “Not really, it’s all getting kind of numb now,” the ice was doing its magic. He nodded, chewing on his lower lip. “I think I should wrap it now,” he said but made no move to start until you gave him the go ahead.
He was very careful. Taking all the time in the world to make sure the wrapping was perfect. When he finished he sighed, and looked up at you sincerely, “I’m sorry for being such an ass… you were doing really well but I just kept..” he sighed again shaking his head as it dropped. Looking back down at your wrapped foot. “Dee.. we like to get in each other’s nerves, you just did a really great job this time around,” you admitted with a slight laugh. But he only smiled weakly, still feeling so guilty. You huffed and shoved at his shoulder lightly, “hey, honestly I think it was your bo getting back at me for calling it a stick so many times!”
He couldn’t help but smile at that one. If only a little. “How about this? You grovel for the rest of the day, andddd order my favorite pizza?” He was quiet, thinking. “How about I just get the pizza?” Finally looking up and looking a bit better, “I don’t knowwww…” and the two of you were going back and forth once more, laughing it off.
Mikey, bless his heart, was having a fabulous time when it came to your yoga sessions. You had gotten into it and dragged the brothers into your new hobby. But the only brother who truly stuck with it was Mikey. Of course this should’ve been a no brainer, what with his acrobatic skills when it came to soaring into the air, from building to building.
So it wasn’t odd that the two of you were together in the gym alone at the lair. Sometimes he’d come over to your flat and the two of you would yoga in the only big room you had (the living room). But most times it was more convenient to do it in a space that was created with exercise in mind. After getting nice and warmed up, talking about each others day and updating one another on any tea it was time to get down to business.
“What’s on the roster today??” Mikey asked already bouncing lightly back and forth. Pumped to do anything when it came to hanging out with you. “Ahhh let’s see!” All the gossip had left your brain clueless to the new yoga you had learned recently so you needed to open up your phone and check your notes really quickly.
Mikey (ever the busybody) came in close, going up on his tippy toes to peer at your screen. Your elbow went out playfully, hitting him in the side plastron. He feigned injury, staggering back clutching where you had touched. “Betrayal!” He fake coughed. “And I thought Leo was the dramatic one!” You teased further.
At this both hands moved to cover his heart. “Take that back!!” He gasped though he could hardly hide his pleased smile. “And if I don’t??” You countered, forgetting about the phone as the screen turned black under inactivity. “Then I’ll make you!” Mikey’s face turned downright villainous (as much as a cutie patootie can), hands up and fingers at the ready to tickle you into submission.
Immediately you were fleeing. You were no stranger to Mikey’s tickling in fact the last time you had been caught in his clutches you were begging for mercy. You almost gave in right then and there at the memory but you couldn’t help but think that maybe this time you could get away.
Fool. What a foolish thought.
You were a yoga hobbyist. Mikey was a fucking ninja! The odds would never be in your favor, but he did let you think you had a chance. Letting you run around in their home gym, getting by with barely a fingertips distance away. You were breathless by the time he caught you which only worsened when he started tickling at your sides and neck.
He had you trapped, he was on top of you, between your legs, hands moving fast and causing you to laugh out of control. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, your leg jumped out and tried to slam into Mikey’s side to free yourself from further torture. But he had actually bent down lower making the trajectory straight for his head. It must’ve been ninja instincts because he caught your leg easily in a tight grasp.
“Mercy!” You called out breathlessly. To which he clicked his tongue, letting go of your leg to go back to tickling. That obviously hadn’t been what he wanted to hear. “Okay okay! I take it back!” You pleaded, batting away his hands quickly. To which he continued to try and get past until he moved way too fast for you, smacking your chin accidentally when he had been aiming to just tickle your neck.
Time force. As the sound resounded, with your punctuating “Ow!” Mikey froze. Hands still, pupils shaking as it replayed in his mind. He had hit you. Accidentally of course. But. He had hit you. You were still in pain, recovering from the shock and rubbing your sore chin. While he was receding into his shell, his hands moving back into himself as he apologized. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I don’t know what, it was just so fast, I’m sorry!!” He was blubbering, by the time you opened your eyes to see how much this had hurt him too.
“Angie! I know! Hey, we were just roughhousing! It got out of hand, it’s okay! I know you didn’t mean it. It was an accident!” And he clung to that word. “It really was an accident. An accident. I’m so sorry. What should I do? Lemme see!” His hands moved suddenly to touch your chin but it was like the sight of his own hands getting close to you made him fearful. He retracted once more, squeezing them into fists and putting them to his chest as he moved to get off of you. To give you space.
“Mikey!” You chastised, getting up and following after him. You grabbed his hands, holding them. “Hey hey, it’s okay! Look I’m not afraid of them and neither should you. It was an accident Mikey, plus I’m already feeling better.” Slowly his fists unfurled and you brought his hands up to your face, positioning them to cup your face. He looked up, with a watery smile. “I’m really sorry,” he said one more time. “I know,” you smiled down at him. “It’s okay!” You made sure to say. And he nodded, relaxing a bit as a shaky breath went through his body before his hands held onto you more securely. Rubbing his fingers back and forth soothingly.
Then he moved back, only to jump and tackle you into a crushing hug. “Yoga?” He asked while digging his head into your neck. “Yoga!” You agreed, and he held onto you like a monkey for a bit before clambering off to return to his mat. “Alright alright, position number one!”
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