#yes this is about the third l&co book

[sojourner-between-worlds]

UPS. Hey, UPS. Why did it take so long for my book to go from Washington to Kansas City, to the point I thought it got lost.

Hey, USPS. Why has my book been sitting on pending acceptance since Saturday morning. (Its noon on Monday. Something should have happened by now.)

Why are you depriving me of joy.

#yes this is about the third l&co book #the only one that hasnt come yet #TWO WEEKS LATER #im almost done with book 2 I NEED IT NOW #and with the weather im sure as heck not getting it tomorrow much less today #which was the last day for estimated delivery window #look i know new years was in there but i still somehow go the other four EARLIER than estimated #seriously what is going ON that my book is stalled in transfer to usps from ups #random ramblings #dont mind me #i just want my book already dang it #lockwood and co #might as well tag it so everyone else can feel my pain too lol

[vryfmi]

KIPPS ANALYSIS? 👀👂

buckle up, it's a long one before we start: this thought process was made possible thanks to my fear of l&co tv series killing Kipps in teg storyline because it would be the biggest mistake writers could possibly make and here's why

Kipps is a key character for understanding the world that Stroud has made.

Each book has its own clear structure and themes that it focuses on. That said, the first book is an introduction, we get a first look at the main characters, enough to understand who they are but not to give all away all at once; we get a general idea of the world and its rules, as well as hints of an overarching plot. But it's very much on the surface, because now that the reader has a general idea, they are ready for more in-depth information. The second book focuses on the world and society, third on ghosts and talent, fourth gives us ghost lore, and fifth is a payoff. And characters, as an integral part of each story (although each book focuses on certain characters more than others) gradually grow throughout the books. All together it gives us an almost perfect sequence with great pacing and enough content to dig into it ourselves to make theories and headcanons.

So what my point is? Stroud is a genius.

The Screaming Staircase gives us Lucy and Lockwood's adventures, a tad bit of George too, ghosts are there, and of course a moral of the story - "adults are useless in this world“. This is the thought that runs throughout the book: Jacobs' screw-up, the emphasis on L&Co's independence as an agency, Fairfax and finally Kipps. As soon as we meet Kipps, he's a nuance - first of all, Fittes, secondly some adult supervisor with his agents on the run, finally he makes fun of MCs and has a history with Lockwood. However, George steps in just in time and says some rather interesting things: despite the medals on Kipps' jacket, his teams are screwing up just as much, and what George notices is that Kipps has the highest death rate of operatives under his supervision. And the cherry on top is a defeat in the sword fight. Doesn't he look like a minor antagonist?

The Whispering Skull. In characters, of course, focus is on Lucy, George, skull and Kipps. Overall Stroud gives us more insights into the world and how The Problem has changed England: we see the influence of Fittes, learn about relicmen, and how ghosts have changed the mentality of society (and driven some to madness, in Bickerstaff's case). That's good and all, but you know what Stroud is already preparing us for? You guessed it, suffering, which is why Kipps becomes an exposition of literally everything.

Through Kipps and his teams we see agents outside the protagonists. For readers cases of Lockwood & Co. are adventures, something packed with action, where things eventually work out in their favour. Compare it to cluster case, on which Kipps' team arrives including eight-year-old agents (via Lucy), which should be alarming, since these are very young children (Lucy herself was only in the night-watch kid at that age, and these are Fitties operatives already).

Chapter 29 shoves its fat hint right in readers' faces. Jopling and Bickerstaff have just been defeated and everyone is scattered in the graveyard. Lucy sits on the steps, Kipps sits a step below. A conversation starts between them that perfectly draws a line between them - both distinguishing and drawing a parallel. Yes, Kipps was an agent, was good at what he did, but where is he now? His talent has died out, while Lucy's talent is just gaining momentum. Her boundaries as an agent have been pushed, she's reaching new heights and wonders where that growth will take her next with type three ghost at her side. But then again, there's Kipps sitting there, a physical reminder that the talent will eventually fade away, that as an agent Lucy will be gone in four to five years. And Kipps knows it. He remembers himself, his peak, his reckless deeds and adventures, and how quickly it all came to an end.

By the way, interesting side note: Lucy mentioned that Fittes agents tend to be around 8-16 years old, although Kipps lost his talent when he reached his twenties and only then went into mentorship. So chronologically Lucy started developing as an agent at the same time when Kipps started losing or had already lost his talent.

The Hollow Boy. The whole Chelsea outbreak is a stroke of genius on Stroud's part: to show what happened to England without repeating himself. Genius and all. To show the panic as if for the first time, to introduce us to the operatives anew when we see agencies unable to work together, and finally to show the horror of what's happening, but now to make it as painful as possible.

Ned's death doesn't particularly hit the reader - we knew the guy, he wasn't the best. However, it's not the death itself that's important here, it's the reaction to it. It seems as if both Kipps and the rest of his team don't care all that much, the question of "how it happened" is a commonplace, and they give an explanation of how it happened in detail, with an assessment. Is that how you talk about someone who died on duty? About teenager? No, and that's the horror of it. Ned was one of hundreds of agents dying every night. He wasn't a sensation, death of children isn't a sensation in this world. But that's besides the point - Kipps cares, he even puts funeral first, not his job, which he's willing to throw away because of his own despair. Of course he doesn't want to send his agents into the thick of it and sit outside waiting, of course he wants to understand the nature of what's going on in Chelsea, but he can't, nobody can, and the situation is getting worse and worse. So Kipps' hands are down, and who can blame him for that?

In The Creeping Shadow, Kipps is once again confronted with the fact that society does not care for him. He's been given a promotion, but only for the purpose of shutting him down, keeping him out of the ghost business, even though it was the only skill he learned in life. Kipps didn't go into mentorship to command children, he simply had no other option. Neither did many agents who outlived their talent. Having left Fittes, we don't really know what Kipps was up to. Probably nothing, and where would he go? He responded to Lockwood's offer despite having nothing to offer their team. Kipps doesn't go there for the money, but out of habit, a desire to get back to what was once his routine.

And then there are goggles. To be honest, their sheer presence seems like a double-edged sword - are they a second chance or a burden holding, dragging him back? But they make Kipps the happiest we've ever seen, so let him have it for now.

And now the fifth book and again a side note: Stroud in his first draft of the book had killed Kipps after them crossing gates the last time around and even wrote the whole thing that way, but he came to his senses in time (alas, he didn't rewrite anything properly).

I have nothing to say about the first half of the book, because I have no complaints about it. The complaints start from a part with almost killing Kipps (and some other things, but that's not what the text is about). I'm not a fan, in fact, I'm a hater of what Kipps' death would have implied. It wouldn't have been heroic, it wouldn't have been a reminder that we are all mortal, it wouldn't have been the sudden punch in the gut that writers like to entertain their readers with (at least not with characters like Kipps). It would have been a major contradiction for Kipps' arc as a character-exposition, as a face of generation after generation that were sacrificing their youth for the quiet nights that never came.

And, worst of all, all of it could have been avoided very, very easily. Not wounding Kipps; the one who would have been feeling better on the other side would've been George, as he was already barely on his feet during the defence of Portland Row - who better walk chipper on the other side other than George? He'll of course survive, it's just that his condition is critical and everyone is trying to get George out of the building. But the important thing here is that Kipps doesn't stumble and fall to his death right before the finish line.

#lockwood and co #l&co #quill kipps #jonathan stroud #lockwood and co spoilers #<- just in case #analysis #thank you anon for getting this out of my system #i want to believe that writers'd been consulting with stroud enough for him to also admit that this plotline was absolutely unnecessary #inbox #.mypost

[lolotheparagon]

Jim Carrey Movies That I Recommend and Have Aged Well:

The Mask ** - You get a cute movie about a shy guy wanting to date Cameron Diaz and ends up becoming a Looney Tune man cos of a Norse mask and ends up getting the police and the mafia after him. It’s pure unfiltered fun. Even if it has a bit of that 90s stink.

The Grinch *** - While it does reek of early 2000s writing, it’s a decent Xmas movie about how consumerism around Xmas sucks, learning to trust others again and getting revenge on your bully who’s ridiculed you since childhood and Carey’s hammy as fuck in this movie. Seriously he’s the only reason I’m recommending this movie at all.

Bruce Almighty - Some sexist jokes and a shitty third act misunderstanding aside, it’s a fun movie that takes advantage of its plot about a guy with literal God powers but learns a lesson in appreciating the small things in life. Which is an important lesson to learn if the main character’s a white guy with a good job, nice apartment and a hot wife.

Yes Man - it’s ultimately Liar Liar but with learning about openmindedness being the message rather than honesty. Also it’s more soft and less raunchy than its spiritual predecessor and l like that.

Batman Forever - yeah he was in this. Riddler has never had such an ideal casting choice until Wally Wingert came along. The movies just jam with bats on it, you’ll love it

Horton Hears a Who - Its a shame Blue Sky Studios shut down cos this is the most accurate adaptation of a Dr Seuss book and it also knows how to have fun with being a kids film. Also it’s meme-tastic.

Mr Popper’s Penguins - no seriously it’s a wacky kids movie. It’s not the end of the world. I love how Carrey only took on this movie just to tap dance with a bunch of penguins like Dick Van Dyke, who is his hero. That’s really sweet.

Sonic movies - the only time Jim Carrey has been funny in recent years. I don’t really watch his content anymore cos of obvious reasons. (anti vaxxer) but it’s nice he’s returned to his silly roots.

Liar Liar * - it’s an inherently sweet movie about a dad trying to learn a lesson in honesty to save his relationship with his son. Although Fletcher winning back his wife as well is a bit of a stretch. Has this movie never heard of exes that are amicable to each other?

Asterisks:

* - Liar Liar is really into men being SA’d for a joke and it’s really uncomfortable to see Fletcher get roped into sex by a senior executive and him getting fondled and forcibly kissed by his female client. Wasn’t the 90s all about stopping workplace harassment?

** - There was one scene in the Mask where he seduces Cameron Diaz and it reeks of Pepe LePew vibes. Although things didn’t go too far apart, the fact we didn’t have a scene of Stanley immediately regretting that or at least have him and Cameron Diaz’s character bring that up during the jail scene later on really bugs me. Also Stanley’s sleazy friend pisses me off.

*** - Someone on the crew was really horny for Martha May Whovier (mostly cos she’s played by Christina Baranski) cos she’s clearly only there for fanservice. Seriously she wears slutty Christmas dresses, there’s a scene where Grinch’s face gets plastered into Martha’s cleavage, the mayor simping for her is played by Jeffrey Tambor is just creepy. What’s even worse is that during a flashback scene we see a younger Martha May suggestively licking a lollipop at a young Grinch during class… YIKES. I don’t care if that was meant to be a joke it’s still fucking creepy.

#jim carrey #Jim Carrey movies #movies that have aged well #90s and early 00s movies were fucking weird man #the Grinch #sonic movies #bruce almighty #yes man #horton hears a who #mr poppers penguins is really fun #the mask #liar liar

[aphroditelovesu]

I have a question since you have read ACOTAR you could answer it do you think Feyre should be High lady in my opinion she shouldn’t I mean she could be high lady, but why right away because if I was in Rhysand place I could’ve never done with he did and I find him a bit of a hypocrite in a kind of sense, because as we know Rhys sacrifices a lot for not only the people he loves, but for his people in general, and he says that if I remember so if he cared a lot about his people, why would he put Feyre High lady I mean she does not know one thing about ruling not to mention that she is a foreign person to the Ilyrians I don’t think I spelled that right but let’s get back to the point she doesn’t know anything about ruling like she didn’t even know how to read and write, and she doesn’t have the etiquette of Royal life, and I know a lot of people might come at me for this, but it’s my opinion even in history since I know that you also like history, maybe you know that Co ruling rarely works I’ve known only one place that did co rulers and that is in Greece in Sparta they had like two kings elected and if Rhys could’ve named her or titled her high lady because of what she sacrificed to prythian and the people not to because she’s someone’s mate that would’ve been better in my opinion. People will just start hating that especially that most sople in Illyria are not even feminists they clip female wings off I mean he could’ve at least given her time to adjust to politics he could’ve titled her his consort and then after she brings him a son, and like had the time to adjust like a few years, he could name her high lady I know some people might find me annoying that’s just my opinion and I wanna know what you think

Hii, anon! Sorry for the delay in replying :)

And answering: I don't think Feyre should have become High Lady, not in the beginning. Of course I support that all female in ACOTAR who are mated/married to High Lords should become High Lady, but Feyre shouldn't have become in the second book, in my opinion.

Now, don't get me wrong, I adore her but Feyre was too young and inexperienced to become High Lady, at least in the beginning. Maybe during the third book or the fourth yes, but I thought she became too early and with no experience in politics. I think it would be more or less like putting a 16-year-old teenager to become president of a country.

I love Rhys, but there are many things he does that I don't agree with, like hiding the risk of Feyre's pregnancy. I know he thought he was protecting her but she was the one carrying the baby so she should know. He loves too much and doesn't mind sacrificing everything and everyone he loves for and that's dangerous, especially for a High Lord.

I like that he thinks of her as his equal, but I don't think he made the right decision naming her his High Lady so early on. Maybe after the War against Hybern or in Nesta's book, but not in ACOMAF.

I don't find you annoying and I agree with you!! ❤️❤️

~ Lady L

#ask #acotar #opinion

[freddie-weaselbee]

Grade A Business//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief semi-nudity, slight language, two suggestive comments, y/n drools on fred but like in a cute way

Summary: As one businessman makes a trip across the ocean to talk to new investors, he meets his new partner, someone a lot more familiar than he was expecting. 

Prompts: Only One Bed with dialogue prompts “if we get caught, I’m blaming you” and “I don't want to be alone”

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Day 2 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

  Fred had never gotten used to traveling on Muggle airplanes. He never had a need to before, not with everything being a train ride, floo network, or apparition away. But as he and George progressed into adulthood, and the businessman life no less, they found themselves constantly on the move and needing a fast and easy way to travel without drawing suspicion. Except for the one time that Fred’s magical briefcase set off every airport security system imaginable, but he’d learned from that mistake. 

He was relieved to be exiting the JFK airport in New York City, clutching his luggage and thanking Merlin that his feet could now touch solid ground. Being in one of those huge steel contraptions was nothing like flying in a broom. He had no control over anything and it drove him absolutely insane. Luckily, he was safe now, and one step closer to being done with this awful business trip. 

At the beginning of their business endeavors, Fred and George would travel together, trying to pick up business at other locations for Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. But as the shop grew and the locations became more and more foreign (so far having shops in Paris, Cairo, and Madrid) the brothers realized that the operations would have to be solo missions to allow for the other to run the shop for longer periods of time. Usually Fred didn’t mind taking the trips by himself. In fact, he rather enjoyed the alone time and flexibility in schedule. But this meeting was supposed to be a big one, and he was feeling quite nervous about having to tackle it himself. 

Big investors located in the states were meeting with him to discuss opening a joint operation in New York City, combining his shop with another renowned wizard business that they deemed would be most profitable. Fred groaned internally just thinking about it. He didn’t want to have to share this new shop with anyone, no matter what the new investors thought. What if the other co-owner was a horrible person? Or worse, what if they had no sense of humor? They’d ruin the Weasley reputation and make it some boring book store. Or puzzle shop? Honestly Fred didn’t know much about the other business, just that he already didn’t like it. 

Hailing a cab, a trick his sister-in-law Hermione had shown him years ago, Fred lugged all of his prototypes--skillfully hidden from Muggle eyes and detection systems by layers of spells--into the trunk before hopping in, giving the address of the hotel the investors had booked for him. He was about to shut the door when a panting scream startled him enough to make him stop. 

“Wait! Hold the cab!”

Doing as he was told, Fred kept the door open and allowed the stranger to climb in, suitcase and all. 

“Thanks,” you said, Fred noting your distinct British accent and strikingly familiar features. “I really need to get to my hotel, I appreciate it--”

“Y/N?”

Shocked, you finally looked at your ride partner’s face for the first time. Soft brown eyes. Freckled face. Bright ginger hair. 

“Fred?! Fred Weasley?” You knew for a fact you weren’t mistaken, this was definitely the Fred you remembered. Or maybe it could have been George? It had been so long since you had seen either of them. Since Hogwarts, in fact. 

Luckily, Fred nodded, confirming your belief that this was the older Weasley twin and saving yourself from heaps of embarrassment. “Y/N L/N, what are you doing here?”

Fred and you both wore matching grins, stretching from ear to ear. What an insane coincidence. What were the chances that you two would be in the same cab, in the same city, in the same foreign country?

“I’m actually here for business,” you said. “After Hogwarts I opened my own shop--”

“Excuse me,” the cab driver interrupted, wasting no time with politeness nor formalities. “But I have cars lined up behind me and I don’t know where you wanna go little lady. So let’s get on with it, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah of course. It’s, umm, oh shit which hotel was it? It’s on 53rd and 10th, I know that…” You trailed off, trying to remember what your hotel was called. You dug around in your purse, hoping to find a piece of paper with the name on it. “I think it was called--”

“Lotus Hotel.”

It was Fred who had interrupted you, once again, and once again you were just as bewildered as before.

“That’s right,” you said after a few seconds of confused silence. “Yes, yes the Lotus Hotel please,” you told the driver with confidence. Turning back to Fred you tried in earnest to understand what was happening. 

“So same location?” the driver asked, to which Fred confirmed before you were speeding off down the crowded streets of the city. 

“Oh, I get it,” you said in understanding. “Same hotel as me?”

“That is correct, love. What are the odds?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a half suggestive half just plain goofy manner, awkwardly shuffling so that his long legs had room amongst your many bags. 

“That is quite a coincidence,” you agreed. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even choose the location. I have a business meeting in the morning with possible investors and they set everything up for the stay.”

Fred’s mouth practically dropped open at what you had said. “You’re kidding. These investors don’t happen to be Robbie Goldstein and Rachel McMillan, do they?”

“Ok, you need to stop doing that,” you said, officially freaked. “That’s the third time you’ve predicted something and it’s starting to creep me out. You never were very good at legilimency.”

He hushed you quickly, hoping the cab driver hadn’t caught onto the magical term you just used. Thankfully, he was too focused on the roads to notice. 

“Ok, Y/N, one last question.”

“And then you’ll explain how you know all this?”

Fred ignored your question and continued with his own. “You said you opened a business. Are you perhaps meeting with another business owner to discuss a collaboration on a new store opening in the city?”

“Yes!” you said, eager to know how Fred could have known that. Was this another one of his pranks? Did he have hidden cameras in the cab somewhere? “How do you know all this?”

He only laughed, a joyous and very relieved grin overtaking his face. Sticking out his right hand, he grabbed yours and shook it eagerly. “Well, Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to be reacquainted. I’m Frederick Weasley, your new potential partner.”

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

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh thank Godric, I was worried you’d think I was grown up and mature now.”

You laughed heartily as you dragged your bags out of the cab, thanking the driver before he grunted annoyedly and drove off. Your drive from the airport had gone faster than expected, mostly due to the fact that you and Fred had so much to catch up on. 

After he and George had left Hogwarts in their grand exit, they’d created the shop they’d always dreamed of, parking it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You, on the other hand, went about creating your success in a much more conventional way. After finishing your last year of school, you started working full time at Zonko’s at Hogsmeade, trying to save up enough money to start your own business. 

Many long hours and tiring days later, you opened up your little place, a toy store and puzzle shop. It was a similar setup to what the Weasleys did, but as you described it, “my toys don’t blow up in the user's face.”

You were now very excited for tomorrow’s meeting, the one you had been dreading beforehand. Your business was much smaller than Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and this would be your first international location. You were afraid that the owner you would be forced to work with would be some stuck up rich big whig who wouldn’t allow you to keep any of your small business charm in the new location. But learning that you would be working with Fred, well that was a relief for many reasons. 

Fred rang the hotel desk bell, chatting happily about ideas for the shared shop and new products that fit with what both of you wanted to do. 

“Hello there,” said the hotel receptionist, coming around the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“Two night stay for Frederick Weasley,” said Fred. “Should’ve been booked by Robbie Goldstein.”

The young man typed quickly into his computer before offering Fred a hotel key card. “Here you are Mr. Weasley, room 504. We serve complimentary breakfast from 6 to 9 every morning down in our west hall. If you need anything don’t be afraid to call down and we’ll assist you in any way we can.”

Fred nodded at the man. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He turned to leave before you grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back. 

“Wait for me,” you said. “I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

Fred smiled and waited behind you as you took your turn at the desk. 

“Y/N L/N, also booked by Robbie Goldstein.” 

He clicked away again but paused for a few seconds, seemingly confused. “You said Y/N L/N?”

Starting to get nervous, you nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Is the reservation not there?” You didn’t want to think about having to find somewhere else to stay, especially because it was getting so late. 

“Oh no,” the man replied. “It’s here all right.” Ignoring the confused looks you and Fred were giving each other, the receptionist handed you a hotel key card and gestured to the elevator. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us. You’ll be staying for two nights in room 504. Don’t forget to enjoy our complimentary breakfast from 6--”

“I’m sorry,” Fred interrupted. “But that’s my room. You did say 504, right?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, not bothering to try to understand the predicament. “Mr. Goldstein booked one room for the both of you.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Fred, silently asking him to help you figure this out. But instead, Fred just broke out laughing, having to brace himself on the front desk. 

“I guess that’s what you expect when you let two investors who specialize in pranking shops make the room accommodations.”

“This isn’t funny Fred,” you said, although you had to give Robbie and Rachel credit for this joke. Turning to the receptionist, you sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “There’s at least two separate beds, right?”

He glanced down at his computer screen before looking back up at you with a guilty smile. “Well, about that…”

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

“Alright, I’ll take the couch, I’m sure it’s a pullout, it has to be.”

Fred stood in the doorway watching you mumble mostly to yourself. As tired as he was and as much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep, somehow watching you freak out about the sleeping arrangements was a much better use of his time. 

He watched as you threw the pillows and cushions off of the couch and felt around for a lever, something, anything that would allow you a place to rest. Your face lit up as you felt a small impression and yanked with all your might, only causing you to thump backwards onto your butt on the hotel room floor. 

Kicking off his shoes, Fred jumped onto the bed, sighing as he let his body relax. “Come on in darling, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

He opened one eye slightly, just enough to see your reaction. You were trying again to make the couch open, although you both knew that it wasn’t a pullout. Nevertheless, you kept pulling at every spot you thought could make a difference. 

It reminded Fred of the good old days, back at Hogwarts when you two were so close. You were always so stubborn, and he didn’t realize just how much he had missed having you in his life. He always wondered what happened to you after he and George left, but with the shop opening up and the war around the corner, he never had the thought to write you or track you down. He hoped this time after you two parted ways you would still remain in touch. 

You groaned loudly, slapping the couch with one of the pillows you had thrown earlier. Nothing was going as planned and you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no need for a pullout.” You stomped over to the bed and angrily pulled the blanket from off of him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to grab it back but you were too quick. “That’s not fair, it’s cold!”

“If you get the bed,” you said, wrapping yourself up, “then I get to stay warm. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at the small bundle of you wrapped up in the hotel quilt, looking like an angry little burrito. Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner, followed next by his undershirt before he unbuckled his belt. He turned to face you slowly, feeling your eyes on him as they peeked out of your wrapping. 

You quickly turned your gaze and glared at the floor. “What are you doing?” you said, hoping Fred didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. He did. 

He continued to undress, leaving him only in a pair of red boxers that left little to the imagination. “Going to bed, as you said,” he replied nonchalantly. He grabbed a toothbrush from his suitcase and made his way to the bathroom, making sure to walk extra slowly and give you a longer show. 

“This is so unprofessional!” you yelled after him. 

“We’re not business partners until tomorrow, love,” Fred said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “As far as I see it we can do anything we want tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you shed the large blanket and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from your bag, hoping you’d be able to change before Fred finished in the bathroom. As he emerged, he saw the tail end of you throwing the shirt on, flashing your thighs and part of your panties for half a second. He averted his eyes out of respect, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running away with what he just saw. 

You shuffled past him, taking your turn in the bathroom. How in the world had this happened? How had a nice catch-up with a friend turned into an awkward back and forth the night before the most important business meeting of your life?

All you wanted to do was fall asleep, go through with whatever tomorrow brought you, and pretend like this never happened. But as you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Fred had taken the blanket back, leaving you with nothing except your t-shirt and an uncomfortable couch. 

“Fred, let me have it,” you said, trying to yank it from his grip. 

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by one of the many pillows he was cuddled with. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, give me the blanket now or so help me…”

Instead of responding, he just reached out and patted you on the top of your head before rolling over and pretending to snore. He was infuriating. 

You sulked back to the couch, accepting your defeat. You pulled out all of the clothes in your bag, hoping they could form as some sort of makeshift blanket. But after a few minutes of shivering and curling into the smallest ball possible, you realized that you’d never manage to sleep like this. Fred was staring at you, partially amused and partially concerned. You looked away. 

“You can always share with me, you know,” he said, patting the bed next to him. 

You scoffed and turned away. “Like I said, Fred, we’re soon-to-be business partners. Imagine how that would look! I’m fine right here, thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence you snuck another look at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, and was instead looking more concerned than before. “You’re going to freeze to death over there.”

“Well maybe that’s because someone stole my blanket.”

“The blanket comes with the bed, and the bed comes with me. Take it or leave it.”

It took everything in you not to scream. You wanted that warm, soft, comfortable bed more than anything at the moment. You needed it. Oh but it would send such a bad message if anyone ever found out…

“If we get caught I’m blaming you,” you relented, trudging over to the bed and crawling underneath the covers, ripping the blanket from a very amused Fred. 

“Who’s gonna catch us, Robbie and Rachel? They’re the ones that set this up! Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.” 

“It better not,” you said. “And make sure you stay on your side of the bed, I mean it! No touching.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Fred said, rolling slightly closer to you. “You act as if we’ve never done this before. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times.”

Your face went red at his words, wishing he would have phrased it a different way. 

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, hearing how his words came across. “But the amount of times we’ve cuddled up in the Gryffindor common room or up stargazing in the astronomy tower. It’s just me, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“We were also 17 and a lot closer back then,” you retorted, remembering the fond memories you had from your high school days. 

Fred huffed and returned to his side. “I’m not saying we weren’t. I just wish you weren’t acting so different now. It’s like we’re barely friends anymore…” His voice drifted off, wishing that he could go back and change the past. It had been 8 years since he last saw you. 8 whole years. Maybe things would’ve been different if he had tried to stay in touch. You’d never even visited his shop in those 8 years, never seen everything he was so proud of. He was stupid to think that one reunion was going to bring back a friendship that was practically already dead. He was even more stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, fate was giving him one last chance to shoot his shot, close to a decade later. What a right idiot he was. 

On the other side of the bed, less than a meter away, similar thoughts raced through your mind. 8 years. Why hadn’t you, in 8 years, made one trip to visit their shop. Sure, there was a war going on and you were busy starting your own shop, but things had been fairly calm the last few years. Why had you never reached out? Almost subconsciously, you reached out physically for Fred. Your hand brushed up against his back before you tensed and drew back. You both stilled for a few moments, before Fred rolled over, facing you. 

The two of you just stared at each other, both playing mental images of what your lives could have looked like the last 8 years if just one of you had done something. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Fred asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head. He moved closer. 

“Are you?” you asked. He shook his head. You moved closer. 

Your faces were now about a foot apart. You moved your hand to rest it between your face and the pillow. Fred copied your actions. You laughed softly, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into your face. 

Fred reached his hand out to move it before hesitating. “Can I?” His voice was so soft, so full of care. His hand hesitated in the air for a second before you nodded. He brushed the strands behind your ear, fingertips so gentle that you got chills up and down your spine. He let his hand linger before it moved to cup your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

His hand left your face and moved down to your waist, eyes not leaving yours in case you ever grew uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him just like you used to do all those years ago. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and hummed contently, before both of you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

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

“Freddie, Y/N! How are ya!”

Robbie Goldstein, a plump man with fading hair ran up to greet you and Fred in the lobby of his and his partner’s office, shaking both of your hands fervently. 

“Hey Robbie,” said Fred, slapping the man on the back. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Same with me,” you said, glad you could finally meet the man with whom you’d been discussing business through letters in person. 

Robbie looked between the two of you, sly grin on his face. “Ah, so I see you’ve already met them. Wouldn’t happen to be because of a little mishap at the hotel last night, would it?”

You groaned internally, hating that someone else knew about the previous night, but Fred only laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“A great prank, I must admit, but Y/N and I actually go way back. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, so nice try. I couldn’t imagine how that would’ve gone if we were complete strangers.”

Robbie’s face fell a little before he shrugged and nodded his head in defeat. “Well, what are the odds of that?”

“Astronomical,” you said, giving Fred a subtle tap with your foot. 

Robbie gestured for the two of you to follow him into the conference room where discussions about the new business would commence. “Well, I’m glad that you two seem to get along then, this is going to make things a lot easier. Oh, and don’t worry about arrangements tonight, I’ve decided not to let my joke stretch on and I booked another room for one of you for your last night in town.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, and stepped into the conference room. “Thanks Robbie, that makes things a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” said Fred hesitantly, “thanks for that.”

He shut the door behind you and straightened up. There was no place for personal feelings in this business negotiation. He needed to do what was best for his company and yours, no distractions. No thoughts of crushed hope that suddenly plagued his mind. 

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

Fred hated the bed he was sleeping on. Granted, it was the same bed as the night before, but this time it felt different. It felt like it was mocking him. You had been the one to offer to change rooms and it seemed like you couldn’t wait to get out of there and to your own bedroom, free of any Weasleys. It made Fred sick to think about. 

He had just gotten used to the idea of something happening between the two of you. Last night, it all seemed perfect. You had cuddled the same way you had before, talked like nothing had changed. Hell, he even woke up with you lying sprawled out on top of him, a little trickle of drool falling onto his chest. He didn’t mind. 

But now, everything that happened the night before seemed like a dream. 

Fred knew he’d at least get to see you sporadically from now on. Your business negotiations with Robbie and Rachel went great, and the two of you, three counting George, were going to be combining forces and opening a joke and toy shop in the city sometime within the next year. It went exactly how Fred had wanted it to go, and yet so horribly wrong at the same time. 

He didn’t want to only interact with you as a business partner and casual friend. He wanted so much more than you were willing to give him, and having to see you and write you and work with you was going to be torture for him. He buried his face in the pillows, gripping the large blanket to his chest, wishing it was you instead. Stupid Robbie and his stupid pranks and stupid business and--

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Fred lifted his head to check the clock. It was 2 in the morning. Who in the world would be knocking this late at night? Fred slowly got out of bed, too tired to bother putting anything more decent on. He looked through the peephole of the door but his eyes were too blurry to make anything out. Groaning, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

Standing in front of him, clothed in the oversized t-shirt from last night and a pair of booty shorts, was you, looking nervous and embarrassed. Fred hadn’t noticed the previous day, but the shirt you had been wearing was one of his old Quidditch practice jerseys, all beat up and way too huge on you. He remembered the day he gave that to you, or rather when you stole it from him because you complained about it being too cold. Fred had to hold back a laugh at the irony. 

“I, umm,” you started, not knowing what to say to him. How were you supposed to explain that you missed him so much that spending one night away from him was too much for you to bear? How last night had been the best sleep you had in years because of how content and at peace he made you feel. How could you convey all of your feelings to him at this very moment?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Fred wasted no time in picking you up, laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs around. “Fred Weasley, you put me down!”

He did as he was told and threw you onto the bed before jumping, arms and legs spread out, and landing straight on top of you. “I’m so glad you're here,” he said, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He pushed himself up, scanning your face to make sure what he did was ok, but you grabbed his face in your cheeks and pulled him down into a long kiss. Fred smiled through the kiss, almost laughing at how everything was working out. Maybe fate did have something to do with it after all. 

Fred pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “So,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “how about we put this bed to good use?”

Tag List: @famdomhideout​ @amourtentiaa​

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #only one bed

[keijislove]

Happiness: Harry Potter X Muggle!Reader

Ding dong

The bell at Number Four, Privet Drive rang.

‘Boy, scurry off!’ Petunia growled at Harry; afraid he would do something to the person who was at the door.

Harry hid inside his old broom cupboard.

Even after spending two whole years at Hogwarts, and about to start his third, the Dursleys never let him come and see whoever was at their door.

It’s not like I’d stun them, Harry gloomily thought. I’ve got better things to do.

In truth, he really hadn’t.

Which is why he peeked through the small crack in the door to see who was there.

Petunia opened the door.

‘Er, yes?’ Harry heard her say.

‘Mrs. Dursley, good afternoon!’ a voice spoke.

The voice was gentle and sweet, a great variation from the Dursleys’ harsh, barking tones towards Harry.

It was the voice of a girl; one he did not know.

‘How may I help you dear?’ Petunia smiled.

‘Er, well, Dudley took my maths book yesterday, and I-I have a test coming up day after, so could you please ask him to lend it back?’ the voice asked.

‘Of course.’ Petunia smiled. ‘Come in, dear.’

That was when Harry finally saw the owner of the calming voice.

It was you.

Looking ever so beautiful and elegant with a halo of politeness surrounding you.

Petunia went upstairs to retrieve your book.

He did not know why exactly, but Harry felt like he had to talk to you.

He had to.

And if he didn’t, then the chance would be lost forever.

He walked out of the cupboard.

‘Oh!’ you exclaimed in surprise.

‘Er, sorry.’ He muttered, feeling foolish.

‘No, no... quite alright... I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N. you are?’ you asked, holding out your hand.

‘Harry. Harry Potter.’ He said, shaking your hand.

You frowned slightly. ‘Potter... I’ve heard that before... you’re Dudley’s cousin, aren’t you?’ you asked.

‘Er, yeah.’ Harry awkwardly said.

For a moment, a small flash of fear took over your face, but you tried your best to hide it.

Harry noticed it anyway.

He felt anger bubbling up inside him.

‘I don’t go to St. Brutus’ if that’s what’s scaring you.’ He said with more venom than intended.

You looked positively nonplussed. ‘Oh? Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry. It’s just that... Dudley says such awful things about you... I’d started thinking you were a mad hooligan!’

‘Dudley says a lot of things that aren’t true. For instance, he beat up a toddler and told me he’d won a boxing match.’ Harry shook his head.

You giggled slightly.

‘So... you’re his friend, then?’ Harry asked.

You looked down. ‘Uhm... well, no. I’m afraid he’s not very nice to me. I don’t think he likes me much.’

Harry felt yet another wish to strangle his cousin.

‘Why’d you lend him your book, then?’ he asked in confusion.

You sighed. ‘I didn’t. He took it from me when we were out during recess.’

‘Prat.’ Harry muttered.

When they heard Petunia’s footsteps, Harry jumped back inside the broom cupboard.

She was wiping fake tears, mumbling.

‘Diddykins, always such a gentleman. Asking for a girl’s book so politely.’ She mumbled.

You had to look away in order to roll your eyes.

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

Needless to say, you and Harry became friends since that day.

The Dursleys would always kick him out, and this used to annoy him, but now he had somewhere to go, so he used to leave without a word.

You two would meet up in the nearby playground and do one of the things Harry considered a big privilege.

You’d talk.

Nothing in particular, you’d sit on the swings and just talk.

Harry deeply wished he could tell you about Hogwarts, how Voldemort was a huge threat to his existence, but what would you think?

You’d call him mad.

You still followed the same routine.

You’d talk, everyday you’d talk and talk and one day he would leave, leave you behind, lonely.

Things however, changed quick after that.

He had just gotten home from third year, and was spending the summer there.

You had met up as usual, and he’d excitedly told you how his best friend, Ron Weasley, had invited him to stay over that Sunday for the rest of the vacation.

‘Oh... you’re leaving so soon?’ you had asked, and Harry thought he had heard the slightest bit of sadness in your voice, but that couldn’t be.

You wouldn’t be sad if he left, he wasn’t even on your priority list.

Which is what he thought.

To you, Harry was that cute boy whom you could consider one of your closest (and only) friends.

So, upon hearing that piece of news, you were jealous of this Weasley person.

No, that wouldn’t be right. You thought. He’s been at that school for three years; you’ve just met him. Why would he want to stay because of you?

You had been lonely that summer, and when Harry came back, it was unusual.

When he came back from his fourth year, he was a mess.

He’d jump at the slightest things, like a cat or a stray dog, and would hyperventilate a lot.

One day, he’d had a particularly bad panic attack.

You were on your swings, as usual, when Harry started rolling around on the floor, clutching his head.

You had gotten used to this, so you crouched next to him.

‘Ssh, Harry, breathe.’ You’d soothingly whisper. ‘Focus on your breathing, take deep breaths. Yes, that’s better, isn’t it?’

Harry was more grateful to you than he could have been.

Despite you not knowing the reason his scar hurt, you didn’t poke in further.

You left it at that and helped him whenever he needed help the most.

Your heart sank when Dudley’s gang came marching.

You hurriedly propped Harry up on the swing, before sitting down yourself.

‘Come on a date with a girlfriend, have you?’ Dudley sneered at Harry, his mates laughing loudly.

Yet another surge of anger passed through Harry’s body. ‘Beat up another ten year old, Dudley?’

‘This one deserved it.’ Dudley nonchalantly replied.

‘Five against one... that’s nice.’ Harry snapped.

Dudley’s lips curled over his teeth in a snarl. ‘At least I’m not afraid of my pillow! Don’t think I don’t hear you moaning in your sleep!’

A muscle was jumping in Harry’s jaw.

‘Leave it.’ You whispered.

‘Oh, don’t kill Cedric!’ Dudley mocked. ‘Who is Cedric, your boyfriend?’

More laughter issued as you held onto Harry tighter.

‘Mum, he’s gonna kill him!’ Dudley went on. ‘Where is your mum? Where is your mum, Potter? Is she dead? Is she dead?!’

You had released Harry; however, it was not him who went up to Dudley.

‘Pathetic!’ you snarled in his face. ‘What do you think you’re playing at, joking about his mother’s death? Absolutely pathetic!’

Dudley had given you a half smile, gesturing to his friend.

One of the boys held you and slammed you against the roundabout, making you hit your head as you groaned.

Harry jumped up and pointed his wand right at Dudley.

It was at that moment, that the skies darkened, as if a storm was ahead.

In mid-summer.

You and Harry walked home, Dudley following behind.

Suddenly, you felt cold.

Not because of the lack of warmth, but because it became really, really cold.

You heard a scream as your vision darkened.

Harry choked for air as a Dementor held him in place, desperately searching for his wand.

He saw you collapse to the floor, panting heavily.

With great effort, Harry grabbed his wand and managed to croak out.

‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!’

A silver stag rose out of Harry’s wand tip and fought off the Dementor holding him in place, before heading to you.

The Dementor instantly dropped you, almost scowling, which it would have done if it had no face, and glided out of the alleyway.

Dudley looked sick, but Harry didn’t care.

He rushed to your side immediately.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, cloaks.’ You whispered. ‘Cold air, c-cloaks, I saw my father die... all o-over a-again and i-it was so c-cold, all over...’

Harry shushed you, smiling understandingly at your rambling, disgusted at whoever sent those stupid Dementors to harm somebody as innocent as you.

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

‘So... he’s a wizard.’ You clarified, looking at the batty woman whose living room you were sprawled across.

‘And a ruddy good one at that, I mean, a corporeal Patronus at his age-’ she said.

‘Mrs. Figg.’ You interrupted. ‘He’s... he’s going to come back next summer, isn’t he?’

‘Of course, dear, whyever not?’ she looked at you as though you’d gone mad.

‘Those things... Dementors, as you said... were they trying to harm Harry?’ you tentatively asked.

‘Yes dear, sadly, yes.’ Mrs. Figg distractedly muttered. ‘Mundungus Fletcher, when I get my hands on that little squat again, I swear!’

You were trembling.

Something was after Harry, something terrible.

And you were in no power to help him.

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

‘Is something the matter?’ you asked, trying hard to keep a straight face.

‘Have you ever tried macaroons; I reckon they’re brilliant.’ Harry mumbled, ignoring you.

You rolled your eyes. ‘Harry.’

Sighing, Harry looked at you. ‘Hm?’

‘What’s wrong?’ you repeated.

‘Nothing.’

Lies.

‘Harry, something is very much wrong, and you know it.’ You disapprovingly said. ‘What is it?’

Harry sighed. ‘Its just... he’s growing stronger, you know. I... I fear there might be a day where I go to Hogwarts and never come back.’

Your heart sank into your stomach.

‘Its... cmon, Harry.’ You spoke. ‘We can’t... if you think like that, then, you’re not going to fight very well, are you? I’ll have you know, I am always here for you, and I have absolutely no intentions of letting whoever kills you live in peace.’

Harry chuckled at your scathing threats.

‘I’m gonna miss you, Y/N/N.’ Harry mumbled, intertwining your fingers with his.

You sighed. ‘I’ll miss you too Harry.’

More than you can imagine.

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

‘Harry Potter, open this door!’ you screamed, banging furiously, not caring it was raining and you were sopping wet.

‘Harry, I swear, I WILL BREAK THIS DOOR!’ you yelled, ripping your throat raw.

The door hesitantly opened, as a certain boy stood before you.

Choking an enormous sob, you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

Sobbing into his shoulder, you melted into his touch.

‘Ssh Y/N, ssh.’ He mumbled soothingly.

‘Harry Potter.’ You croaked. ‘You had best returned from this war ALIVE.’

‘I’ll try Y/N/N.’ Harry whispered. ‘I’ll try.’

Your sobs were growing uncontrollable, and Harry did the only thing he could think of to shut you up.

He kissed you.

Slowly and carefully, his lips took in your own, as you melted into the kiss.

Not caring about the salty tears you could taste, you gently stroked his cheek.

When you pulled apart, you sniffed. ‘Good luck, Harry.

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

The rain beat down on your house heavily, as you sat near your window.

Something was wrong, you could sense it.

He’s alive... God, no, he’s alive, please.

Each thought, each dream, showed you endless ways Harry would be dying.

You hated it.

After many days of crying, a knock on your door made you jump.

‘Y/N!’

That voice.

That amazing voice.

Trembling, you opened the door, seeing a messy haired Harry standing there, tears painting his face.

‘My God.’ You gasped. ‘You’re alive. Oh, Harry!’

After yet-another hug, Harry came inside.

‘I reckon I should’ve made this more special.’ He said seriously. ‘But I can not wait any longer.’

You watched, confused, as Harry took your hands.

‘Y/N L/N, the moment you came into my life, I have felt nothing but pure happiness. I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?’

You gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

Sobbing harder, you hugged him.

‘Yes.’

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #muggle #muggle reader #harry potter x muggle reader #lo #romance #angst #fluff #hp

[quirklessidiot]

Title: blood son [oneshot; filthy rich sequel]  Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au ft. kageyama tobio as your son] Genre: major angst ahead, thriller, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: A full circle of madness finally comes to an end.

Warnings: sexual themes, rape, yandere behaviorisms (just some obsessive and disturbing stuff), very dark themes, anxiety, trauma, depression, eating disorder, unwanted pregnancy/children (y/n hates her kid here), suicide,  gaslighting, and Y/N’s decent to madness

Notes: happy 800 due to a lot of uh people asking for a short sequel, here it is...for better understanding, please read filthy rich skskksks anyways onto the story…i cant write smut for shit sIKE also fuck men and women like this, if you see them chok’em and chunk’em in the basin.  yes tobio is ur bby boy here idk kageyama and sakusa have the same energy i just couldnt resist i swear sksks

Filthy rich // series masterlist

A moan escapes your lips when you feel the hot liquid fill your hole, your expression is tantalizing and completely erotic. Something that he can’t seem to stop looking at, your body that was now a canvas of his marks, was a reminder that no one could have you. 

You're oblivious to it all, the things he did. The things he wanted to do to you, the dark thoughts, you were like a small rabbit in the den of a large wolf. Completely trusting, completely dumb and he’s taking advantage of it.

He stuffs and fills you up with his seed so that you’ll never leave him. 

He wants to breed you.

Your belly swelling with his children.

It was definitely a dream come true.

Your eyes snap back to reality as the bus stops in front of the new town, you had moved towns earlier since the town started to become a tourist destination. The idea of staying there would be too risky despite having the alias of Kageyama Miwa. You were still in hiding and you feared to even open the news despite it being eight years since you ran away.

“Okaasan, are we going to go down now?” a small voice asks.

You turn to find his son staring right at you, it had been a cruel reminder for him to look a lot like his father. You knew that he didn’t have any part in this, he was a victim just like you but you couldn’t help but be distant and not-so affectionate.

This was his kid.

His blood.

You couldn’t help but shrivel away.

“...Okaasan will just take her duffel bag on the overhead, just wait right behind me.” You say quietly. Tobio was a good boy, he was quiet and obedient. If the circumstances had been different, you’d adore him but every time you looked at him, all you saw was his wretched father and the unnamed things he did in the name of ‘love’.

To be honest, you didn’t know what else Sakusa did aside from trying to get you pregnant and holding you back from leaving. 

You didn’t even want to try to find out. If he was willing to go through such lengths to have you stay, it was more than enough reason to run away. You held onto your child’s hands as you made your way to your new home, it was smaller than the last one but this was alright.

It was clean and livable.

Tobio stays at the side, out of your way as you begin to fix up the house. The young boy isn’t social for his age towards his peers and you should be worried yet you can’t bring yourself to be, “Okaasan’s going to go to the grocery store, would you like anything?” you ask.

“Milk.”

“Alright, just stay here okay?”

He meekly nods as you awkwardly pat his head and  tie your roughly chopped hair in a tight ponytail, over the course of eight years, time has not been kind to you. You had grown unhealthily thin, probably lost some hair due to stress, and the bags underneath your eyes due to the lack of good sleep was evident.

You tell yourself that he isn’t looking for you now.

That he probably found a new plaything but you couldn’t help but look behind your shoulder every time. You didn’t even expect to get this far away, last you heard whilst you were at the station towards the last town eight years ago, you were being searched up and down by the police all over Tokyo.

You really thought you’d be found out and you feared for the worse but the farther you went, the less news reports you saw.

They probably thought you had died.

Which was good on your part that time because you’d rather be dead in a ditch than be caught up with a man like him again.

“...-Kusa Kiyoomi is expected to marry the daughter of Akiko Corp soon…”

You tense up at the mention of the very familiar name as you pass by the appliance store, shakily you turn to the tv screen to find a video of Sakusa Kiyoomi with a woman who had the same hair color as yours. Everything around you is muted now as his cold gaze fills the tv screen, your heart is thumping quick. 

He isn’t here.

He isn’t here.

“...It’s quite the love story of the century, don’t you think? After the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s beloved eight years ago, he met her a few years back and he seems to be doing well.” The tv anchor smiles on the screen as she talks to her co-host but inside you were shaking, what did happen to your missing person report? Curiosity starts to gnaw your insides as you head to the internet café before going to the grocery store.

You didn’t have the guts to look then but after seeing that report, you pull up on the secluded part of the internet café and search up your case. Your mouth dries up, the search was still on-going much to your surprise. There was even a website dedicated to it, “...Y/N L/N might be suffering from hysteria and psychological problems, please contact us immediately when you see her.”

Your eyes narrowed at the report as you shakily cup your mouth and choke back a laugh, that bastard really had the audacity to diagnose you with that when he was the one sick to the head.

Once again, the bile on your throat starts to pile up.

It still wasn’t safe.

You’d probably live your whole life on the run.

On the run with his son that scarily resembled him, how fucking cruel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes glaze over the small town in discontent, apparently his bride-to-be wanted to get married here and who was he to refuse? All he wanted to do was get this over with so her father can shut up.

“Kiyoomi-san.” a small dainty voice calls out, he turns to his side to find (h/c) staring right at him. Akiko Hideyo is the daughter of one of the most powerful businessmen in Tokyo, he met her at a function a few years ago.

The very first time he saw her was from behind, it was a rather scary resemblance that he had to stop himself from approaching her by calling your name yet when he started to talk to her and hear her dainty voice, he realizes that she’s not even like you at all.

She was gentle and dainty like a deer.

Albeit his little bunny was gentle when they got together sometimes, he always recalled how you were filled with spunk. How you weren’t even afraid to put him in his place and how you were all over the place but seem to look beautiful whilst doing so.

He always recalled wanting to control you yet you never seem to succumb to it.

It had been eleven years since you first met, eight years since you had disappeared without a single trace and Sakusa is stuck with some third-rate look alike for relief. Every time they fucked, it was always from behind. Hideyo thinks it’s just his preference but in reality, it was because her back had such strong resemblance to you and he’d imagine every time that it was you.

He misses the roughness, the high, the erotica. 

The only things you could provide.

It was never enough, it was only you, you, and you.

“...Have you decided what flavor you wanted? Komori-san mentioned that you liked vanilla.” his fiancé meekly says.

Hideyo was boring.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s just doing this because he has never seen someone closely resembling you, “Anything would be fine.” He replied in a clipped tone. As the car comes to a halt for a moment because of a large truck backing from a driveway, his attention shifted towards a young boy bouncing a volleyball against the pavement outside his window. There are scratches on his knee cap yet the boy had a blank look on his face, he was sort of reminded of himself when he was younger.

As he was about to look away, he sees a woman approach the young boy and bends down to his level to check the scratches.

The woman’s small figure isn’t even the least bit familiar yet his attention can’t seem to go away. He watches her tuck the strand of stray hair and he finally gets a good look and it feels like the world stops turning at how the woman scarily resembles you. Albeit the figure was smaller and the hair was another color and unevenly chopped short.

It was no mistake.

“Y/N.” He mumbles yet as he’s about to open the door, the car starts to move. Kiyoomi’s fist tightens as he uncharacteristically yells at the driver to stop the car, Hideyo jumps on the seat and before she could say anything else, the business mongrel is out of the car, running to where you stood.

Yet just like a ghost, you were gone and so was the little boy who had oddly resembled him.

These days you had even a harder time sleeping. Maybe it was because there was a little leak on the ceiling, or better yet, maybe it was because the heater wasn’t working, or maybe it was because you were at a new place which made it harder to adjust.

You sat at the side with your expense book on hand, your gaze on his son who was peacefully asleep. Tobio was growing older soon and he needed to settle down at one place for high school and college. A part of yourself ventured deep and dark in your mind, the thought of leaving him at an orphanage seemed better now.

He had a fake last name anyways, the bastard wouldn’t be able to find him. 

You’d be doing this boy a favor since you never saw him as your kid and he’d be away from his very messy world.

Your thoughts are immediately disrupted when you hear a brief knock on the door. This made you tense up, it was late, Why would there be a need for visitors? Your son is quick to be awoken by the second knock and you immediately press your hand on his mouth and while your other finger is on your lips to signal him to keep quiet.

Another knock.

Tobio looks worried, it wasn’t his first time to see an episode from you but this time, something feels different. You're shaking more and you look like you’re about to pass out any moment. “Stay quiet.” you mouth as you crawl towards the door and press your ear on it to confirm who was on the other side, too afraid to even take a peak on the window.

Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was your thumping heart, Tobio had voluntarily placed a hand on his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Another knock.

You shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god out there for this person to leave.

“...I don’t think anyone lives here.” You hear someone say on the other side, the voice sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint who it was, this wasn’t Sakusa for sure,  “Are you sure that the information was right?”

Silence again.

“Hm.” The person hummed, knocking again, “Well, this place seems like a dead end. The landlady said that she’s not familiar with the tenants here so we could be wrong…”

The voice started to decrease and you feel yourself slowly starting to breathe easier. Tobio slowly put down his hand and there you saw it, the fear on his eyes. You breathe in and out, calming yourself, this place isn't safe anymore, “Tobio, take your bags. We’re leaving.” you only say.

You don’t even hesitate to leave despite it being the middle of the night.

Tobio is right in front of you as you go down your small apartment and you think everything is well, you really do yet luck didn’t seem to be on your side that night.

“...Y/N?”

A dreadfully familiar voice calls out, didn’t they leave? Why? why was he here?

“O-Okaasan.” Tobio mumbles, grabbing your hand and hiding behind you.

Your head hurts, you wanted to just be selfish and leave Tobio here with this man, his father, the wretched, vile creature who had betrayed you. You wanted to run.

You didn’t feel safe.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t make you feel safe.

“Y/N…” He repeats, slowly approaching you, “It’s me, bunny.”

Oh, how you hated that pet name. It sounded like you were his plaything, like you could never escape from his set-up. Before you could say anything else, he invades your personal space once again and envelopes you in a very,very tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” He whispers on your ear and your shivering, not from pleasure but from fear, “Shh, it’s alright. I found you. It must’ve been hard to be alone out here.”

Get away.

Get away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You yell, pushing him off of you as you stagger away from him. Tobio remains behind you, completely shaking.

“Now, Y/N-” he tries to shush you, “We should go home now, you’ve spent so much time away from me but I understand, you were probably just scared to tell me you were pregnant, right?” 

He cups the right side of your face and places a chaste kiss on your temple, tears are threatening to spill as you realize that this was all over. You couldn’t escape now, this lunatic wouldn’t let you have at it.

The soft and plush bed is completely foreign to your back, Kiyoomi had you separated from Tobio because apparently you were still too ‘unstable’. It made you mentally scoff, between the both of you, he was the unstable one.

You wondered if they started to feed the small boy lies about you, Kiyoomi definitely milked it out to the press for sure. When he had found you, not only were your friends and family in a frenzy, the media was having a field day too. He had broken off the engagement and he used your ‘mental illness’ card on them and it worked.

Another story was weaved on papers, a love that transcended through time.

You let out a low sardonic laugh.

Mental Illness, you wondered if this could be a ploy for a suicide. After all, you’d rather be face first on the pavement than stay here with a son about to be fed on lies and a crazy bastard who sleeps next to you at night.

You stare out your window, the curtains were drawn as you looked at the free birds.

How envious.

“Y/N?” Kiyoomi comes in, a food tray in hand, “It’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N it’s been two days, all you ate was an apple-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N, our son-”

“He was never my son.” You harshly snapback, your voice sharp, “He’s yours through and through, a fucking incarnate of you and a curse. He’s not mine. He never will be.”

You suddenly feel the presence of the small boy behind the door and there stands his boy, staring right at your eyes yet you feel nothing for him. You never felt anything for him. The moment they placed him on your arms to nurse, there was no joy nor light.

All he brought was a painful reminder.

Kiyoomi places the tray to the side and closes the door behind him, Tobio’s blank gaze still on you, “...Those aren’t words a child is supposed to hear, Y/N. Especially ours…” he inches closer and you clench your fist tightly and he places his hand on your neck and lightly holds it. 

You aren’t scared of him anymore, the nicest thing this guy could do was kill you, really.

“Maybe we should have a girl this time, hm?” his hand trails upwards to softly caress the side of your face.

You’re immediately frozen by his sudden choice of words, no, no-

“Maybe you’ll learn to love Tobio even more when you’re pregnant with another of mine-” before he could finish what he was about to say, you raise a hand and slap him right at his face, it must’ve been hard since it left a mark, “Ah, Y/N. I didn’t know you still liked it rough-”

“D-Don’t, I-I can’t get pregnant.” You're shaking this time as you try to come up with a lie, “I-I can’t…”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, “Why not?”

“I’ll die.” You lied, “When I had Tobio I almost died, my body couldn’t handle it. T-The doctor had said that if I were to have another, I’d die…”

The lie didn’t save you that moment, really. He has become an expert at detecting your lies so instead of a reply, he harshly places his lips on yours and despite protests, he just pins you down.

He’s harsh on you that night, spilling and stuffing you with his cum, whispering that you’ll have it all and that you’d be his everything but all you could do was let a small hiccup escape your lips as you tried to hold back your cries.

‘Someone, anyone, please.’ you pleaded internally.

You don’t see Tobio until a week later, the boy has grown a tad bit chubbier and is adorned with expensive clothes. Sakusa, on the other hand, has been force-feeding you to the point where you threw up right after meals (secretly, of course) 

You sit down at the couch as your son blinks at you, “...I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence and you shut your eyes tight as you recalled the harsh words he heard last week.

“I’m sorry too, Tobio.” you could only reply because genuinely, you did feel like you went too far this time. He didn’t choose to be born, a part of you should’ve saved him the misery and left him at the orphanage that time, “Do you hate me?” you ask.

“No.”

“You should.” You say quietly, “You should hate your otosan too.”

Tobio remains quiet at your words.

“When you grow older, don’t end up like him. don’t end up like us. forget us when you have the chance.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good and If you ever get the chance to leave, promise me that you get out and don’t look back.”

Tobio may have been eight years old that time but he knows fear when he sees it and he knows promises aren’t meant to be broken. He remembers those words well because it was the last long conversation he has with you. 

The month of December rolls by and it’s cold, you’ve given up fighting back at this point. Your glassy eyes are directed to the window, not even wanting to look down at your bulging stomach. Kiyoomi doesn’t even need to tell you twice to not leave the house, you decide upon yourself to just stay at your room on bed the whole time.

You wonder, just how high is it from up here? Would it hurt?

“Y/N?” a dreadful voice calls out.

“Hm.” 

“You haven’t gone out of our room in two months. You haven’t even seen Tobio.” Sakusa points out, you were like a obedient doll now. So lifeless, so still, you wished he’d discard you already.

“I might say something again, I don’t want to bother.” You replied truthfully, gaze still avoiding his.

The raven-haired man starts to caress your plump face, you had grown chubbier since the beginning of your pregnancy, he couldn’t be anymore happier to finally be there for you.

This was perfect.

You were finally his.

You weren’t letting go.

“...Don’t you ever regret it?” You finally ask, turning to him, your blank eyes staring at his rather deranged ones, the eyes that you once loved was now just a reminder of your resentful life.

“Which one?” He asks, inching in closer to kiss your neck, your collarbone. You let out a meek sigh as you shut your eyes and internally prayed for this to be over quickly as he removes your ribbon that held your flimsy nightgown together.

“You killed people.” You uttered, “Took my life away, don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Right, how could a monster like him have such empathy? You feel his cold fingers brush against your folds, trying to stimulate it.

Everything except your body screamed no but you were just too powerless now. You wondered, how could you even end this all? Was jumping out the window the only solution now?

“...Right...” You let out a soft painful moan as he dips his finger inside. You’re under the idea that despite this happening countless of times, you’re body would be numb to it all yet each time it happens, it pains you even more,  “You even had to kill your ex-fiancé’s father for us to get married.”

You had come to realize just how deep his obsession was, the man was willing to kill to anyone who got in the way of your ‘love’. You remembered finding out about your ex-chief one night, about how he had chopped off his fingers and left him to bleed dry in the alleyway for the rats to feast on.

You remembered when a news came up that his supposedly future-father-in-law had died in a violent explosion during breakfast time and how he was nonchalant about it.

“...It’s all for you, Y/N.” He implores as he kissed your thighs and continue to stimulate your now wet folds, “All for you, Tobio, and my new little girl.”

“You’re sick.”

“Mhm. You smell good, I should continue using the soap from awhile ago when I clean you, right?” he hummed, ignoring what you had just said as he dipped his head in and take a kitten lick on your sex. You let out a small cry as your body betrayed you.

Your prayers for today are unheard yet again.

“...Y/N, you barely come out of your room these days.” Komori exclaimed, it turns out the visitor from last time who knocked on your door was him and as much as you wanted to knock his teeth out, you decide not to because you don’t see the point in doing violence these days.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, pregnancy does take a toll on your body.” He nods in agreement, it seemed like this was a casual thing for him, like you just weren’t repeatedly rape or mentally abused by his cousin, “Tobio certainly takes after his father, don’t you think?”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of the little boy, you had small hope for him either ways so you didn’t exactly cared for him anymore.

“I suppose so.” 

“You’ve gotten boring these days, Y/N.” Komori plainly pointed out, “It’s a wonder how my cousin gets to stick around ya. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Komori’s eyes narrowed at your hollowed response, you were so ungrateful. Here his cousin was, treating you with such delicateness and with all the attention that the other women wanted but you looked anything but happy about it.

If this was Hideko, she’d be elated.

But no, he had to be stuck with an ungrateful pompous bitch like you.

“How high up are we, Komori-san?” you suddenly ask.

He blinks at the rather weird question, “Fifty floors.”

“Hm.” You hummed, “That certainly is high.”

Komori would regret answering that question very soon though.

When the winter dawned upon a new year and you finally snap, you decide to answer your own prayers and opt to salvage yourself from this madness and cruelty once and for all.

Sakusa Tobio is nine years old when you, his mother, six months pregnant, jumped out the bedroom window from a fifty-foot story building two months into the new year. Your face is flat on the pavement and completely unrecognizable, the last conversation you both had replays on his head like a broken record through the years and only when he’s old enough that he realizes that he was no one’s son. 

His okaasan didn’t loved him nor did he want to be associated with his father for all he did was bring pain and disgust.

The boy is eighteen, fresh out of the academy, right in front of his baby sister’s and your mausoleum. He makes it a habit to visit you both a day before your death anniversary,  not wanting to be in the same room as his father yet this year he makes an exception.

Recently, he had turned over some evidence and his own testimony about what his father had been doing. Everything, from illegal works to the people he killed to your tragic end. It’s enough to file a case and have him set to jail for life, even his fancy lawyers couldn’t defend him. 

His lips sting because his Uncle Komori had punched him in the face and called him an ungrateful bastard like you but it was alright.

It was all over.

He plans to change his name back to Kageyama Tobio (the haux name you had given him when you were on the run) right after all the fiasco, it’s a kind name and the first name you had given him, he likes to think that this was also a gift from you that time, a new beginning straying away from you and his father's cruel ties. He had also felt that it was too unkind for him to use your last name despite his grandparents' persistence (he was after all, conceived through forceful means).

And although he wanted to hate you for those words you said that time when he was eight. He couldn’t really bring himself to after hearing what you had to go through, you were a victim. He couldn’t dare imagine what his father did to you during the last few months leading to your death.

Yet, right now. It was finished.

You could rest now.

“I did it, Y/N-san.” He mumbles as he bows down. As he got older, he has also foregone the idea of calling you by the name you loathed and shriveled away from, “I got out and I didn’t look back. Thank you for everything.”

Kageyama Tobio never visits you right after again, as promised.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu yandere #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu x you #sakusa headcanons #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #yandere!sakusa #yandere warning!!! #oh right tobio is ur son here #filthy rich #📝📝.filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

[matthewbeilschmidts]

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

-

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

-

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

-

And so their friendship starts.

-

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

-

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

-

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

-

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

-

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

-

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

-

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

-

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

-

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

#hetalia #prucan #prucanweek #APH Prussia #APH Canada #.txt post #I forgot all my writing tags #will fix later HAHA

[fallin-4-ya]

spilled amortentia

spilled amortentia 

cedric diggory x reader

summary: y/n and cedric diggroy hated each other, but when things finally start to turn around for the two some secrets about some spilt amortentia will be confessed.

warnings: bickering, enemies to lovers & that's all! (gif is not mine, credit to owner!)

requested? yes/no

words: 2.1k

Y/n didn’t like Cedric Diggory. Borderline hate, if she was being honest with herself. His stupid smile, his stupid eyes, his stupid laugh, his stupid face. He was just so nice, so genuine, so handsome. And y/n wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Cedric didn’t like y/n y/l/n. Nearly hated her if he was being honest with himself. Her stupid hair, her stupid lips, her stupid voice, her stupid face. She was just so beautiful, so intelligent, so funny. And Cedric wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

Their not so friendly hatred, competition, began third year. Nobody really knows why it began or how it started, but just that it was best you steered clear of the two when they were in the same room as each other. Something to do with potions class and a spilt amortentia, and that’s about all anyone could remember.

The charade went on for nearly three years before anyone had anything to say about it. It wasn’t until sixth year when y/n’s friend Hannah turned to her in the common room, daring to question her.

“Why do you hate Cedric so much?”

“Hannah, I don’t hate Cedric,” y/n placed a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “That would imply that I cared.”

She smiled sarcastically at Hannah, turning out of the common room and into the corridors. Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes. Yes, she might have hated Cedric, but she was right about one thing. And that, was not caring about him.  y/n went on with her day, dreading the afternoon that was to come. She had double potions with Cedric.

y/n had been Cedric’s potions partner since third year. Of course, she had no idea why, as their last names so far apart and they clearly didn’t get along. Perhaps Snape had it out for her ever since she gifted him a bottle of shampoo once. But, that wasn’t the point. The point was is that she would have to spend a whole double period of potions sat beside Cedric with his horrendous, shiny hair and those horrible, rosy cheeks of his.

She gagged just thinking about it. However, the funny thing was that they had been quite the pair their first two years at Hogwarts. They could always be seen together between classes, studying in the library and even sat next to each other voluntarily. Things changed though, the following year. Cedric and y/n sat beside each other in potions, their task for the day was to brew a beginner’s batch of amortentia. Seemed simple enough. Challenging, but straight forward.

It all happened so quickly. They had just finished brewing their potion and Cedric was the first one to learn across the desk and sniff the potion. His face when completely white, looking at y/n with bulging grey eyes. She laughed, “What is it, Ced?”

“Nothing,” He answered back quickly. “Why don’t you have a go?”

Cedric pushed the cauldron towards y/n and before anybody could see or have time to stop it, the entirety of the pot tipped over and spilt all over her. Her breathing stopped and her eyes flickered up to Cedric Diggory with glaring eyes. She hardly had any time to realize what her potion smelt like because she stormed out of the room so fast and so furiously, that Cedric had no time to respond. 

And it wasn’t until she was half way through the corridor when she cursed herself, because of bloody course she had to stink of Cedric Diggory. The boy who she smelt in her amortentia.

That wasn’t even the worst part, because their potion was so strong for the next week she had boys and girls alike following her around the school like puppies. Chasing after her because she stunk of their desired scent. At that point she looked far beyond loving the boy she had smelt in the love potion. She vowed that day to hate Cedric Diggory forever, and word caught onto Cedric pretty quickly because he didn’t even look her way after that.

Their new form of communication strayed farther from the wonderful conversations they once held, to quick insults thrown at each other. When eye contact was made, which was rare, eyes would either roll or simply look the other direction.

y/n shook her head, trotting off to the dungeons to where her two hours of torture would begin. She exhaled sharply, taking her seat next to the brown-haired boy. Cedric shifted in his chair, feeling the presence of y/n.

“How are you today, y/n?” Cedric asked, a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“I didn’t even know you could talk,” scoffed y/n.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

The girl laughed, “Exactly what I said it meant. Not like you ask me how I am on a daily basis, let alone speak more than two words to me unless you have to.”

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” Cedric said back, a smirk plastered onto his face.

“Oh, you got me on a good day, wee one.” She smiled brightly from ear to ear, then turning back to face professor Snape at the front board. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach, a nervous excitement. Before she identified the feeling, the lecture began and all attention had shifted from the pit in her stomach to the black cauldron inferno of her.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had a conversation that lasted longer than four seconds with Cedric.  y/n had forgotten how soothing his voice was and his dry sense of humor had always brought a smile to her face. Yet rather than harboring these thoughts, she shook whatever she was feeling off, immediately remembering why she hated the boy. Though, however hard she tried, the next week those soft sorts of feelings made their way to the surface more often than not. And it seemed as if Cedric felt the same way.

Rather than their usual cold greetings, they acknowledged each other with nods, then the following week, a casual smile, the next a wave. The students at Hogwarts felt the world shift, because were Cedric Diggory and y/n y/l/n actually getting along? Nobody could believe that the two could co-exist in the same room without ripping the other’s head off. It became even more baffling when he approached her on more than one occasion outside of class.

It was a rainy day and y/n sat in the library working on a charms essay. She flipped mindlessly through the books, searching for something about a confundus charm; however, her searching was interrupted by a loud stack of books hitting her table.

“Oi!” She gasped, startled by the noise. The source of it being no other than Cedric Diggory himself.

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Cedric grinned.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers.” y/n remarked back, mindlessly reading through the pages of her charms text book.

“Listen, I need some help with the potions essay.” Cedric asked. She cocked her head at him, he looked rather nervous to ask for something as simple as help with a potions essay.

“Sure,” y/n shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Cedric thanked her and exited the library as swiftly as he came in. She then headed back to the common room herself, joining Hannah, who was sat by the fireplace.

“So,” Hannah started cautiously. “What did Cedric want?”

“Nothing really,” y/n sighed. “Just asked me for some help in potions that’s all.”

She shrugged and went back to writing. Hannah face palmed, looking at her friend with a disappointed expression, “You honestly believe Cedric Diggory wanted your help in potions. He nearly does all the assignments for you in class and has top marks in all his subjects.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” y/n looked up from her parchment.

“Wow, you are so bloody thick.” Hannah replied, shaking her head.

Anya, a girl in the year right below the two, laughed. She quickly brought her hand up to her mouth and went back to focusing on the book she was reading. y/n sharply looked at hear, “What are you on about, Anya?”

Anya plopped her book on her lap and laughed mockingly, “Seriously?” She beckoned the two girls who sat in front of her. y/n sent her a look, a mixture of confusion and anger etched across her face. Hannah sat in silence sharing looks with both girls.

“Well, y/n, if you really need me to spell it out for you,” Anya sighed. “You love him.”

y/n let out a laugh so loud the entire common room turned to face the group of girls. This had been the funniest thing she had heard in a long time. Tears formed in her eyes, however her laughing ceased when she looked back up at both Hannah and Anya, who held straight faces. “Why aren’t you two laughing?”

“Because-“ Hannah hesitated. “Because you are. It’s practically plain as day. You talk about him nonstop, really. Not to mention the way you look at that boy, its plain to see for anyone. You can convince yourself you still hate him, but we all know that’s a load of hippogriffs”

The two girls looked back at y/n, her lips pressed tightly together. Her thoughts danced rapidly in her mind. Visions of Cedric Diggory swarmed her and her pit in her stomach was replaced with butterflies. Did she actually like him? Was the hatred she gave him just a coverup for how she truly felt? Was she really that scared? There was no doubt that she held a deep resentment for the boy, although now a days she may even consider him an acquaintance, but love?

His stupid eyes, his stupid smile, his stupid laugh, his stupid face– oh. 

She felt heat climb up to her face, turning red in an instant. y/n shook the thought, the possibility, of her loving a boy she swore to hate. She rolled up the parchment she was working on and stormed from the common room.

Trying to clear her head, y/n paced around the castle. She found herself sitting in an empty corridor, watching the sun setting from the window. A presence appeared.

“Mind if I join you?” the voice called. y/n’s head snapped up, Cedric. She nodded, motioning the space on the bench besides her.

“It’s beautiful,” Cedric said, watching the colors of the sky melt into one another.

“I suppose it is,” y/n replied, her lips tugging into a faint smile. “Reminds me of when we first came to Hogwarts, how magical everything was.”

“The good old days,” Cedric smirked. He paused, taking a deep breath. His grey eyes flickered up at her, a warms encased in his gaze. “Y/n, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He looked at her with shy eyes. y/n felt it all come up, her emotions and her thoughts, awaiting to come out. But she couldn’t let them. She stood up instantly, taking Cedric by surprise.

“No!” she shoted. “No, you can’t do this! I vowed to hate you for the rest of my life. And that's exactly what I’m going to do!”

“Are you serious?” Cedric deadpanned.

y/n looked him straight into his eyes, “Of course, I’m serious. You spilt a whole cauldron of amortentia on me.”

“We were thirteen.” He said back to her, almost sounding confused.

She huffed at his answer crossing her arms, “Well, Cedric, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you weren’t the dumb boy I smelt.”

The words fell off her tongue quicker than she could think about them. y/n gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth. Cedric stood very still, staring blankly at her. They both waited for the other to say something further, but neither of them could find the words. Cedric was the first to break the silence.

“Wait, you­—you smelt me in your amortentia?” he asked slowly. y/n shook her head, looking towards the ground. “Y/n, that day in class, why I spilt the potion, I didn’t mean it. I was just so in shock because you were the girl I smelt in mine. I was so caught up in the moment. I wish I told you sooner.”

y/n’s head shot up, locking eyes with him. Cedric smiled sheepishly, a blush crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Cinnamon, linen and citrus. That’s what you smell like.”

“I don’t know what to say, Cedric,” y/n smiled. “You just smelt like that horrible cologne you used to wear third year.”

Cedric laughed heartily, letting out a hey!

“Kidding,” she giggled. “Kidding. Fresh parchment, apple pie and autumn. Quite lovely really.”

Cedric took her hand, wrapping it in his. He pressed his lips gently against her knuckles, and for a moment it felt as if they were thirteen again running around the corridors, drinking butterbeers and being kids again. Where they didn’t know hatred for one another.

y/n took a deep breath, flickering her eyes up to meet his. She looked down at his lips and he leaned it, pulling her into him. His hands glided up to rest around her face, where he dived into her. It was like they had belonged there for eternity and they had been too blind to see each other in all of the perfect beauty they bestowed. All because of a nervous boy and some spilt amortentia.

(‘I still can’t believe you spilt the entire cauldron on me’ ‘Oh, shut it.)

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #cedric x reader #cedric x y/n #hufflepuff #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #amortentia

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Second chance

Summary:��7 months passed since Dave found out the woman he loved didn't die. Would she ever remember him?

Pairing: Dave York x OFC (can be read as reader insert)

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: amnesia, f e e l i n g s, angst

A/N: I tried myself on another part of this. I hope you like it.

Part one: two lives

Masterlist

*Taglist in Reblog

Dave York wasn’t someone who believed in second chances. It came with the line of work he was doing. Had been doing. Sighing, he looked at the small house in front of him. He had been sitting in his car for almost 15 minutes, his heart too heavy to open the door, get out of the car and walk over to the door where she would be, still not remembering any moment they had shared.

It was Lissy’s third birthday.

Of course he was invited, the paternity test had confirmed that shortly after their run in at the park. And even though she couldn’t remember him, she would never deny Lissy having a father in her life. Many things had changed in the 7 months since the park.

Dave had quit his job, having made enough money to last three lifetimes. She had moved to town, so Dave would be able to build a relationship with his daughter. Lissy was the sweetest little girl, warming up to him within weeks. The first time she called him Daddy would be something he would forever remember.

They were in the park, him, Lissy and her mother, after having lunch and there were three pigeons chasing Lissy.

“Save me Daddddyyyyyy,” she had cried, jumping into his arms. He had laughed, hugged her close to save her from the pigeons, hiding the emotions behind his mask.

But she was getting better at reading him.

While Lissy was well on her way to being a Daddy's girl it was her mother that seemed to have a hard time letting Dave in. Of course, in a perfect world she would have remembered their whole life together before the accident in the moment in the park. But they weren’t living in a perfect world. And she definitely didn’t remember anything about him. It was hard, looking at the woman he still loved and seeing that she didn’t feel the same way. He had sent Carol a huge bouquet of flowers a month after the park with an apology for not having been a better husband in the past.

It was hard for Dave. Especially when he noticed patterns in her behavior that were just so much her.

She still couldn’t cook, but she tried.

“I do have a mouth more to feed, so I was thinking about taking some cooking classes,” she had said in one of their sessions. Oh yeah. They were going to therapy together every week. Dave thought it would help her remember, but in the end, after 6 months of nothing, he was questioning why he was going.

Because you love her, he thought to himself.

Today would be hard. Not only because of the birthday but because she wanted to introduce Dave to the man she had been dating for a month now. It truly was over and he somehow had to make his peace with it. At least he had Lissy to look forward to.

“Hey Dave,” she smiled as she opened the door. He smiled back, his smile not reaching his eyes. She noticed this happened more often in the last weeks.

“Hi. Am I late?”

“No. Just in time. We’re gonna cut the cake in a couple of minutes,” she stepped to the side, letting the man in. Spending time with Dave was making her feel so confused every time, yet she found herself wanting to see him more lately. Getting used to finding out so many things about her past has been overwhelming to say the least. She could see the longing in his eyes every time he looked at her in the beginning. Yet lately he seemed to shut himself off, wearing a mask to hide behind. She couldn’t blame him. If they really loved each other like he explained to her in therapy, she would die a thousand deaths spending time with him, when it was him who couldn’t remember her.

“I hope she likes her present,” Dave said, shrugging his coat off.

“She’s gonna love it. You could gift her some old socks, and she would love them,” she smiled and Dave smiled back.

“I can’t stay long, but I would love to take her this weekend,” Dave said.

“The whole weekend?” she asked. She had never spent more than a day parted from her since she was born. Dave sighed.

“We can talk about it later…”

“No, help me get out the cake and we can talk,” she said walking through the house with him following her. He could hear music from the living room and laughter and he had to smile. At least his daughter was happy with her friends.

“Talk,” she said and he sighed.

“I can’t do this anymore. I want to spend time with Lissy but I need a break…” he shook his head and she turned around.

“You need a break from me?” she asked quietly without judgment. She knew she was hurting him. And she wanted everything but to hurt the man in front of her. She could see why she fell in love with him. The old her. He was a strong and passionate man who always put his family first. There was something dangerous in his eyes that seemed to make her pulse quicken every time he let it spark through. He knew how she drank her coffee and he always warmed her hands, that seemed to be always cold, stating that they had always been like that. She spent nights awake in her big and lonely bed, trying to make herself remember him. She wanted nothing more than that. To give her and him a happily ever after but she just couldn’t. And it was starting to hurt them both.

“I don’t want to I just… If we wanna do this, co-parenting, I need to find a way to live with the feelings I still have for you. And I think for that it’s best if we take a little break.”

She only nodded, sucking her bottom lip in. Why was this hurting her so much?

“You’re dating and you deserve to be happy, but so do I,” he added stepping closer towards her.

“I know,” she whispered, crossing her arm as if she was hugging herself.

“I wish I could just flip a switch and everything would be like back then…”

“I’m not dating, I only told you that in hopes that this would make you move on,” she confessed and Dave took a deep breath, ignoring the wave of relief that flooded through his body.

“Will you let me take you out to dinner?” he asked.

“Like on a date?” she asked.

“It doesn’t have to be, but yeah. Like on a date.”

He was almost as touching her now, his chest against hers.

“But you said you wanted a break,” she whispered.

“It’s a break so I can fall out of love with you, or a date so you can start to fall back in love with me,” he said quietly and she found herself smiling softly.

“I’m not the same person you fell in love with, Dave. I may look like her on the outside, but….”

“I know. Just let me have one night. I’ll cook for you and we can talk. Without a therapist or Lissy around. Just us,” he smiled hopeful, his hand coming up to put a stray of hair behind her ear.

“Okay.”

She had never been to Dave’s apartment before. She knew that he was still living in the same place she used to live with him. She didn’t want to imagine the amount of heartbreak he went through ever since she disappeared. She still didn’t know the whole story about them. She only knew that they both met because they both had worked at the CIA. And she wanted to get answers today. There were some pieces of the puzzle that were her past, that didn’t make any sense to her. Maybe this was the reason she just couldn’t remember a thing.

She smelled something delicious as she made her way up the stairs, knocking on the apartment door. She was nervous. In all the time knowing each other since the park they never spend time alone.

The door flew open and she smiled seeing him barefoot, wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey,” he smiled, stepping to the side so she could walk in. She couldn’t stop letting her eyes wander through the big room that seemed to be hallway, dining room, living room and kitchen all at once. It seemed familiar. Dave only watched her as she slowly walked in, her fingers brushing over a bookshelf that held her books.

She jumped when she felt something rub over her feet, followed by a meow. A cat was sniffing at her feet, rubbing her soft body at her calves.

“That’s kitty. She’s… She’s your cat,” Dave explained. She looked at him with big eyes.

“I had a cat?” she leaned down to pick her up, a calmness washing over her, as the cat purred against her chest.

“You found her outside as a kitten and took her in. She’s a little over 6 years old now.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” she smiled, not letting go of the cat as she followed Dave.

“Yeah she grew on me after…” he shook his head, smiling softly before he turned from her.

“I hope you still like my paella. You used to love it,” he said.

“I love paella,” she said with a smile, leaning with her hand propped up on her hands on the kitchen island.

“It smells delicious. I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Wine?” he asked and she nodded. She watched him as he opened the bottle of wine and couldn’t help but let her eyes wander up his strong arms. When she looked into his eyes he just winked at her and she felt herself blush.

“Hungry?” he asked, handing her the glass of wine.

“Starving!” she answered.

“So we met at the CIA but I hated you at first?”

“I am a pretty big asshole to most people.”

“Must be your face. When you have this brooding look you look like you’re plotting murder,” she joked a while later, sitting on the sofa across from him. Kitty hadn’t left her side the whole evening. She was now sleeping peacefully in her leap.

Dave sighed.

“You wanted the truth. How we met. How we fell in love. How… How I thought you died and left…” he choked on his words, looking away from her. This would be hard.

“Dave… Did we kill people?” she asked out of the blue. Dave turned his head to look at her for a long time.

“Yes. Yes we did. And we were the best at it,” he added. She sucked her bottom lip in, nodding slowly. And so he told her. Every little thing. About the death of McCall and about how they took jobs outside the CIA making a name for themselves. He answered every single question she had.

“I should be scared of you and of the person I was but looking at you…” she breathed in deep, shaking her head.

“I feel safe with you. Like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be. I can’t describe it. I can see why I fell in love with you,” she smiled a little.

“This is a lot to take in. I had my suspicions about my past. There are pieces of things I remember but it’s not enough to understand them. And at this point I’m not sure if I want to remember. Though I have so many things to be thankful for from my old life…”

“Such as?” Dave asked.

“Meeting you? I wouldn’t have Lissy if it weren’t for you,” she whispered and Dave felt himself smile at her.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant. I wouldn’t have taken the job for us if I had known… I’m so sorry,” he closed his eyes, letting his head fall down. Her heart broke. Yes, she was the one who experienced the memory loss but he had all the memories. Carefully she pulled Kitty off her lap and closed the distance between herself and Dave. Taking his hands in hers, she felt him shake.

“It’s not your fault. Do you think I would have listened to you? It’s not your fault Dave. You hear me?” she squeezed his hand and felt him shudder. He let his head fall against her shoulder and she gasped, letting go of his hands to hug him against her. He was shaking in her arms as he silently cried against her shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t know I was pregnant back then. I wish I could remember. We would have been so happy,” she smiled, letting her head fall against his.

“You are such a good Dad. I wish you would have been there when Lissy was a baby. But you’re here now. And we’re not going anywhere,” she promised, her heart full. He had stopped shaking at some point, yet couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He never wanted to let go. He felt her kiss his temple and he shuddered again. One of her hands pushed under his chin tilting his head up so he had to look at her.

“I may not remember being in love with you, but I think I am falling in love with you,” she whispered looking into his eyes. Dave stopped breathing, trying to register the words that had just left her lips. He just looked at her, taking her in before he leaned in, closing the distance between them, to finally kiss her. She gasped against his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck as she melted against him. This. This is what felt right. She never wanted to let go.

Resting with his forehead against hers he smiled.

“Promise me to never leave me again without saying goodbye,” he whispered and she smiled back.

“Never,” she vowed kissing him again.

#my writing #dave york #Dave York x reader #Pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #dave york fanfic

[where-theres-smoak-2]

What I don’t get is why the antis keep claiming Alina was so much better and happier without her powers when it’s shown over and over that’s not the case? Even with completely changing M*l’s personality it still holds true that Alina never felt like she belonged anywhere. I know M*linas want really badly for their ship to be like Darklina but without the “problematic”elements but they were never thus star crossed lovers romance or equals in any way in the books or the show for that matter. He might support and protect her in the latter but that doesn’t mean he’ll actually understand her and what she’s going through(it also doesn’t help they didn’t give him real personality,lol). Also can we stop putting all the blame on Alina for being in a co dependent relationship with M*l? Like antis keep justifying their trash ship by saying it was Alina’s choice to keep her powers hidden,etc and M*l was supportive and risked so much for her. Not only does this remind me of when they use the same excuse about Aleksander having a traumatic past but it also reeks of victim blaming. Also there’s a reason why Doyalist and Westonian readings exist. From the latter’s perspective yes it’s Alina’s choice to keep her powers alway but it’s because of M*l and he doesn’t really mind that she does if anything he’s awful and unsupportive even on the show he just brushes it off and seems happy about the fact.From Doyalist’perspective M*l represents something that’s holding Alina back and from whom she needs to let go off unfortunately they didn’t happen because the author was super biased and wanted to force her endgame(it reminds me of JKR doing the same with the endgame couples in Harry Potter)but it’s 101 writing,seriously!

(Book Spoilers) (Trigger Warning: Mentions of Self Harm.)

I really struggle to believe that Alina could be happy without of her powers because in the books she is put in a situation where she can't/doesn't use her powers three times. Once in each book, in book one its when she pushes her powers down so she can stay with M*l, in the second when she and M*l are hiding from the darkling, in the third when she is kept underground by the Apparat. Each time we see her suffering, she is sickly, she feels weak and she is just generally miserable without them. I mean surely having her powers stripped from her at the end of the trilogy must have reminded her of those times when she couldn't use them before. I find it hard to believe she was happy because the narrative within the books tells me that when she struggles without her powers and that she misses using them at like a soul level, it's so damaging to her. The time she spends underground in R&R in particular where its not that she chooses not to use her powers but where she physically can't was really sad, I really hated seeing her so just, I don't know how to describe but it was like soul crushing for her and it made me feel physically uncomfortable and sad reading those scenes and seeing how much it affected her. I do feel like it likely traumatised her so I can imagine losing her powers altogether that also must have been very traumatising. She loses apart of herself. I've said it before but sometimes I feel like antis look at Alina losing her powers the same way they would if she lost a piece of jewellery, its sad to lose something sentimental like a bracelet, but you can live without it. But her powers weren't an accessory to her they were an integral part of her, LB might as well have ripped her soul out. Seeing the effect not having her powers had on her, especially when it was because the apparat was deliberately keeping her trapped to keep her weak, seeing how much she suffered, was a large part of the reason why I was so upset when I found out what Alina's fate was come the end. The fact that one of the times she went through the struggle of not having her powers was because she wanted to be with M*l and seeing how much M*l wanted her to give up her powers despite this is also why I hated that she ended up with him. I mean she pretty much self harmed because she was so dependant on him and couldn't cope with the idea of leaving him. But I 100% agree with you nobody should be blaming Alina for that co-dependency its a result of her trauma of becoming an orphan and needing someone to cling too. That's not her fault. However Alina as part of her story arc really should have grown out of that relationship as it would show how she is healing from that trauma. M*lina really should have let each other go and the really frustrating part was there were a few times in the trilogy where they nearly do. There is a moment in S&S where she seems to realise that he isn't ever going to be happy at the Little Palace and with her being in a prominent political position and she nearly lets him go. The same in the beginning of R&R where it seems like they have both accepted that they were on different paths and that they should move on from each other. But LB never commits to it and in the end we end up with that forced endgame where Alina loses her powers and ends up exactly where she started the series.

#alina starkov #anti mal #anti malina #anti leigh bardugo #answered

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Five: The Something In His Eyes

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,963

MASTERLIST

~

Over the next few days, you fell into a rhythm. You’d work on schoolwork remotely from your room. It was pretty easy to keep up with all the free time you had. 

So, obviously, the remaining time off was spent getting to know the enigma of a man 

that was Spencer Reid. You formed a rather strange acquaintanceship with him, not quite friends but more than a protector and protectee. The real question was who was protecting who?

You discovered many things about him, some quite apparent, others not. For example, you assumed he was very into technology as most nerdy types were. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He despised all things electronic, from e-books to computers themselves.

“Do you even own a cell phone?”

“Yes!” he insisted, driving you to work for the third day in a row. “Sure, it’s not a fancy smartphone, but I can dial numbers so much easier, anyway.” He handed you his old-school flip-phone.

“How do you text people on this thing?”

He laughed politely.

“I don’t.”

You took the time to interrogate him on the nuances of text language, something he lovingly referred to as ‘dreadfully impractical’.

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

Being constantly watched wasn’t as disconcerting as you’d expected. Well, being watched by Spencer wasn’t. You pretended you didn’t notice the dark blue honda with the tinted windows following you all the way to work and parking nearby. Strange that the FBI seems to need lessons in being covert.

Fortunately, rude customers and the smell of books managed to take your mind off your current situation.

What didn’t help was having to constantly stop Spencer from rearranging all the books in the shop.

“They’re categorized by the Dewey Decimal System,” he said, disgust in his tone making you stifle a giggle. “What? Everyone knows that the Library of Congress Classification System is far superior.”

“Maybe, but my workers have memorized the Dewey Decimal System. It’s easier.”

“But it’s too vague! When you’re categorizing books you need to work from all sorts of classifications. For example . . .”

It was amazing to see how passionate he was about sorting books. You’d never met a man that didn’t just throw a novel (or, more realistically, a comic book) back anywhere on the shelf when he’d finished it. Spencer treated each book like a separate piece of artwork, carefully placing them back in the correct spot without fail. He’d run his hands over the leather bound covers, caressing them as delicately as possible. You couldn’t help but notice the swiftness and gracefulness at which his hands moved.

“You okay?” you snapped out of your stupor and found him standing much closer, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You took a step back and cleared your throat.

“Yes, ahem, sorry. I need to get back to work.”

Quickly, you walked back over to the front desk, starting to update the book index.

Maybe I should have requested Emily as my protector, you thought to yourself, dusting off a returned copy of Fahrenheit 451. Spencer was super nice and a huge dork. Maybe that was the problem. It was easy to start to think of him as a friend rather than someone just doing his job. Maybe if you’d met under different circumstances you might have been . . . friends. 

But that wasn’t the case. Spencer was there to protect you. Any teasing or joking around was just a formality. But why did he have to be so damn enticing?

Around nine o’clock, customers started to peter out. Soon, the only people left in the shop were you, Caleb, your co-worker, and Spencer, who’d been sitting on the window sill reading book after book.

“Hey, I’m gonna clock out,” Caleb said, stripping out of his work shirt. God, that man took any excuse to take his shirt off. You didn’t blame him all that much. D.C, even in the dead of winter, was hot as hell. And when you had a chest like that, one couldn’t be blamed for showing it off.

“Okay, be in tomorrow at ten. I don’t trust Claire to come in on time.”

“No prob,” he waltzed out the front door into the illuminated street, the bell tinkling lightly.

You stood and stretched, glancing over to the windowsill Spencer had been sitting in.

Shocked, you saw Spencer exactly where he’d been about an hour ago, slumped up on the windowsill, fast asleep, using a book as a pillow.

Strange, though it was, that this man was an FBI agent, you couldn’t help giggling at the sight of him sacked out like a toddler.

“Spencer?” you hated to disturb him but you knew that he’d want you to wake him up. “Spencer, wake up.”

He moaned uncomfortably and stretched, jumper lifting up slightly to expose his lean stomach. It took all the self control you had not to stare.

“Whasitgonon?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

“You fell asleep,” you walked over to the loveseat in the center of the store and plopped down, sighing.

“Oh god. Sorry,” he stood, shaking himself awake and walking over to you, staring at the pile of books he’d devoured. “I guess I over-exerted myself.”

You scoffed. 

“Oh, come on. I thought you were a genius,” you teased, tossing a pillow at him.

With a little fumble, he caught it and sat down next to you, smiling.

“Yeah, but after a night of restlessness, anyone’s an idiot.” 

He said it with a sad smile, looking straight ahead. You decided not to ask about the restlessness.

“‘Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, and where care lodges—“

“—sleep will never lie,’” Spencer finished the quote for you. “Shakespeare.”

Without thinking, you looked at him, shocked to find he was already looking at you. There was something behind his eyes that made you freeze. Something curious. 

And suddenly, in that moment, that split second, something shifted. You knew it and Spencer did too. You could tell by the sudden dilation of his eyes and the sharp intake of breath he let slip.

He recognized his mistake and broke eye contact, glancing away and clearing his throat.

“What, uh, what time is it?” he said, looking for a clock while nonchalantly moving farther away on the loveseat.

“Nearly eleven,” you said, glancing at the grandfather clock, smiling at the fact he didn’t wear a watch. Why is that so endearing? “We can leave now if you like?” You grabbed your purse and started locking up.

“Isn’t it closing time?” 

“Well, usually customers stop coming in at around ten, but we close officially at eleven.”

“Then why stay? Why not just leave at ten?”

“I guess I like to think that if someone has a book emergency, it’s comforting to know that I’m here.”

You blushed. You’d never really told anyone that. Claire and Caleb probably had no idea that you stayed as late as you did. What was it that made you tell Spencer?

He hadn’t said anything so you looked at him.

The darkness of the shop made it so you could only see his silhouette. A tall figure against the light of the street lamps, he was poised and solid, staring out into the empty street. 

“Spencer?”

“Get behind me,” his tone scared you. He spoke with urgency and you could see his hand on his hip where he’d concealed his gun.

Without hesitation, you stepped behind a bookshelf, slightly peeking around it so you could see what he was doing.

He moved like a shadow, slipping out of the shop and moving onto the street, towards the dark blue honda down the road.

Why is he sneaking up on the undercover car?

There was a screech and the car zoomed off and Spencer leaped into a sprint, running after it.

It finally clicked in your brain and you scolded yourself for not realizing it earlier.

That wasn’t an FBI car.

Becoming quickly aware of the danger you were in, you moved from behind the bookshelf to behind the loveseat, crouching as low as you could and trying to slow your breathing.

Your breath froze in your lungs as the soft sound of the bell by the door tinkled, alerting you that someone had entered the store. You snapped your hand over your mouth.

Praying it was Spencer but not actively believing it was, you stayed silent, waiting for the person to make themselves known.

“Y/N, it’s me. Are you here?”

It was Spencer.

You stood up from behind the sofa and ran to him, throwing your arms around him, hugging him tight and finally letting the tears fall from your eyes.

Feeling Spencer tense against you wasn’t the best feeling, but it was worth it for the way he melted into you after a moment, sliding his hands around your waist.

Breathing in deeply against his chest, you started to relax. His chest was harder than you’d thought. There were definitely some muscles he was keeping hidden.

Before you could enjoy the embrace too much, Spencer pulled back and looked at you.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes when you separated, but it was gone before you could analyze it, turning back to his professional demeanor.

“M-nine-L-D-G-seven,” he said robotically.

“What?” you said, removing your arms from around his neck and wiped the tears from your eyes, worrying that your brain had just short circuited.

“I got the plate but i’m sure he’ll replace it. It’s unlikely he’ll use that car again but I still need to report it.”

“I should have said something,” you murmured to yourself.

“What do you mean?” he said, whipping out his phone and typing rapidly.

“I saw the car following us earlier today. I assumed it was the protective detail.” Then, upon seeing the shocked look on his face: “I’m sorry, Spencer, I should have—“

His phone started to buzz and he answered it.

“Hotch? . . . Yeah just now. . . . Okay, I'll bring her in. . . . Yep, see you soon.”

He hung up and looked at you, a guilty expression on his face.

“I have to take you back to Quantico — uh — headquarters.”

“Okay.”

You stayed quiet the whole car ride. Spencer kept looking over at you, trying to be casual. Nothing felt casual. The way he held you in the bookstore wasn’t casual. The way he ran after a speeding car to protect you wasn’t casual. The way he’d stared into your eyes not long ago was . . . well, something, but not casual. You weren’t quite ready to explore that something yet. 

The ride up in the elevator to the BAU was dead silent. Another instance where elevator music would come in handy. 

Your reflection in the elevator doors was strange. Alien. It wasn’t you. It was as though a ghost was in your body, keeping you upright as you watched from behind your eyes, unable to do anything. It was terrifying.

Then, warmth flooded your hand, Spencer’s fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing gently.

Without turning your head, you glanced at his reflection. He was staring straight ahead, no expression, but his thumb was drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Before the doors opened and Spencer’s hand slipped out of yours, you caught a glimpse of yourself again in the reflection, only for a split second. It was still not a you that you’d ever seen before, but for an entirely different reason. There wasn’t fear or worry in your eyes, but something more. The same something you’d seen earlier in the bookstore in Spencer’s. 

Stepping out of the elevator and into the bullpen, you found yourself wondering when this would all be over with.

And definitely, totally, not wishing it might never end.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13​ @yourmisosoup

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds

[crowdvscritic]

round up // JULY 21

‘Tis the season to beat the heat at the always-cold theatres and next to fans set at turbo speed. While my movie watching slowed a bit with the launch of the Summer Olympics on July 23rd, I’ve still got plenty of popcorn-ready and artsy recommendations for you. A few themes in the new-to-me pop culture I’m recommending this month:

Casts oozing with embarrassing levels of talent (sometimes overqualified for the movies they’re in)

Pop culture that is responding or reinterpreting past pop culture

Stories that get weEeEeird

Keep on-a-scrollin’ to see which is which!

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Double Feature – ‘90s Rom-Coms feat. Lots of Lies: Mystery Date (1991) + The Pallbearer (1996)

In Mystery Date (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Ethan Hawke and Teri Polo get set up on a blind date that gets so bizarre and crime-y I’m not sure how this didn’t come out in the ‘80s. In The Pallbearer (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), David Schwimmer and Gwyneth Paltrow try to combine The Graduate with Four Weddings and a Funeral in a story about lost twentysomethings. If you don’t like rom-coms in which circumstances depend on lots of lies and misunderstandings, these won’t be your jam, but if you’re like me and don’t mind these somewhat-cliché devices, you’ll be hooked by likeable casts and plenty of rom and com.

2. The Tomorrow War (2021)

I thought of no fewer movies than this list while watching: Alien, Aliens, Angel Has Fallen, Cloverfield, Interstellar, Kong: Skull Island, Prometheus, A Quiet Place: Part II, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, The Silence of the Lambs, The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and World War Z. And you know what? I like all those movies! (Okay, maybe I just have a healthy respect/fear of The Silence of the Lambs.) The Tomorrow War may not be original, but it borrows some of the best tropes and beats from the sci-fi and action genres, so much so I wish I could’ve seen Chris Pratt and Co. fight those gross monsters on a big screen. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Dream a Little Dream (1989)

My July pick for the Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! I CANNOT explain the mechanics of this body switch comedy to you—nor can the back of the DVD case above—but, boy, what an ‘80s MOOD. I did not know I needed to see a choreographed dance routine starring Jason Robards and Corey Feldman, but I DID. All I know is some movies are made for me and that I’m now a card-carrying member of the Two Coreys fan club. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

4. Black Widow (2021)

The braids! The Pugh! Black Widow worked for me both as an exciting action adventure and as a respite from the Marvel adventures dependent on a long memory of the franchise. (Well, mostly—keep reading for a second MCU rec much more dependent on the gobs of previous releases.) Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

5. Liar Liar (1997)

Guys, Jim Carrey is hilarious. That’s it—that’s the review. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. Sob Rock by John Mayer (2021)

It’s very possible I’ve already listened to this record more than all other John Mayer records. It doesn’t surpass the capital-G Greatness of Continuum, but it’s a little bit of old school Mayer, a little bit ‘80s soft rock/pop, and I’ve had it on repeat most of the two weeks since it’s been out. Featuring the boppiest bop that ever bopped, at least one lyrical gem in every track, and an ad campaign focused on Walkmans, this record skirts the line between Crowd faves and Critic-worthy musicianship.

7. Double Feature – ‘00s Ben Affleck Political Thrillers: The Sum of All Fears (2002) + State of Play (2009)

In The Sum of All Fears (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), Ben Affleck is Jack Ryan caught up in yet another international incident. In State of Play (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), he’s a hotshot Congressman caught up in a scandal. Both are full of plot twists and unexpected turns, and in both, Affleck is accompanied by actors you’re always happy to see, like Jason Bateman, James Cromwell, Russell Crowe, Jeff Daniels, Viola Davis, Morgan Freeman, Philip Baker Hall, David Harbour, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, Liev Schreiber, and Robin Wright—yes, I swear all of those people are in just those two movies.

8. Loki (2021-)

Unlike Black Widow, you can’t go into Loki with no MCU experience. The show finds clever ways to nudge us with reminders (and did better at it than Falcon and the Winter Soldier), but be forewarned that at some point, you’re just going to have to let go and accept wherever this timeline-hopper is taking you. An ever-charismatic cast keeps us grounded (Owen Wilson, Jonathan Majors, and an alligator almost steal the show from Tom Hiddleston in some eps), but while Falcon lasted an episode or two too long, Loki could’ve used a few more to flesh out its complicated plot and develop its characters. Thankfully, the jokes matter almost as much as the sci-fi, so you can still have fun even if you have no idea what’s going on.

9. Double Feature – Bruce Willis: Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995) + The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

Before Bruce Willis began starring in many random direct-to-DVD movies I only ever hear about in my Redbox emails, he was a Movie Star smirking his way up the box office charts. In the third Die Hard (Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), he teams up with Samuel L. Jackson to decipher the riddles of a terrorist madman (Jeremy Irons), and it’s a thrill ride. In The Whole Nine Yards (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), he’s hitman that screws up dentist Matthew Perry’s boring life in Canada, and—aside from one frustrating scene of let’s-objectify-women-style nudity—it’s hilarious.

10. This Is the End (2013)

On paper, this is not a movie for me. An irreverent stoner comedy about a bunch of bros partying it up before the end of the world? None of things are for Taylors. But with a little help of a TV edit to pare down the raunchy and crude bits, I laughed my way through and spent the next several days thinking through its exploration of what makes a good person. While little of the plot is accurate to Christian Gospel and theology, some of its big ideas are consistent enough with the themes of the book of Revelation I found myself thinking about it again in church this morning. (Would love to know if Seth Rogen ever expected that.) Plus, I love a good self-aware celebrity spoof—can’t tell you how many times I’ve just laughed remembering the line, “It’s me, Jonah Hill, from Moneyball”—and an homage to horror classics. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

July Critic Picks

1. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Television Could Not Be Televised) (2021)

Even director Questlove didn’t know about the Harlem Cultural Festival, but now he’s compiled the footage so we can all enjoy one of the coolest music fest lineups ever, including The 5th Dimension, B.B. King, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Nina Simone, Sly and the Family Stone, and Stevie Wonder, who made my friend’s baby dance more than once in the womb. See it on the big screen for top-notch audio. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Robin Williams takes on the bureaucracy, disillusionment, and malaise of the Vietnam War with comedy. Williams was a one-of-a-kind talent, and here it’s on display at a level on par with Aladdin. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Against the Rules Season 2 (2020-21)

Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball, adapted into a film starring Jonah Hill), is interested in how we talk about fairness. This season he looks at how coaches impact fairness in areas like college admissions, credit cards, and youth sports. 

4. Bugsy Malone (1976)

A gangster musical starring only children? It’s a little like someone just picked ideas out of a hat, but somehow it works. You can hear why in the Bugsy Malone episode Kyla and I released this month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, plus how this weird artifact of a film connects with Gilmore Girls.

5. The Queen (2006)

Before The Crown, Peter Morgan wrote The Queen, focusing on Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in the days following the death of Princess Diana. It’s a complex and compassionate drama, both for the Queen and for Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen, who has snuck up on me to become a favorite character actor). Maybe I’ve got a problem, but I’ll never tire of the analysis of this famous family. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

6. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

This month at ZekeFilm, we took a closer look at Revisionist Westerns we’ve missed. I fell hard for Roy Bean, and I think you will, too, if for no other reason than you might like a story starring Jacqueline Bisset, Ava Gardner, John Huston, Paul Newman, and Anthony Perkins. Oh, and a bear! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

7. New Trailer Round Up

Naked Singularity (Aug. 6) – John Boyega in a crime thriller!

Queenpins (Aug. 10) – A crime comedy about extreme coupon-ing!

Dune (Oct. 1) – I’ve been cooler on the anticipation for this film, but this new look has me cautiously intrigued thanks to the Bardem + Bautista + Brolin + Chalamet + Ferguson + Isaac + Momoa + Zendaya of it all.

The Last Duel (Oct. 15) – Affleck! Damon! Driver!

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (Nov. 11) - I’m not sure why we need this, but I’m down for the Paul Rudd + Finn Wolfhard combo

King Richard (Nov. 19) - Will Smith as Venus and Serena’s father!

Encanto (Nov. 24) – Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda making more magic together!

House of Gucci (Nov. 24) - Gaga! Pacino! Driver! 

Also in July…

Kyla and I took a look at the classic supernatural soap Dark Shadows and why Sookie might be obsessed with it on Gilmore Girls.

I revisited a so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece that’s a surrealist dream even Fellini couldn’t have cooked up. Yes, for ZekeFilm I wrote about the Vanilla Ice movie, Cool as Ice, which is now a part of my Blu-ray collection.

Photo credits: Against the Rules. All others IMDb.com.

#Round Up #Mystery Date #The Pallbearer #The Tomorrow War #Dream a Little Dream #Black Widow #Liar Liar #Bugsy Malone #Sob Rock #John Mayer #Sob Rock John Mayer #The Sum of All Fears #State of Play #Loki #The Whole Nine Yards #Summer of Soul #Good Morning Vietnam #Against the Rules #The Life and Time of Judge Roy Bean #Die Hard With a Vengeance #This Is the End #The Queen

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Seven

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only Notes: Welcome back to this week's episode of Andy Barber Has Lead Me To Write Questionable Things! Set before the series. This chapter is a l o n g one, guys. Sorry bout that. Thank you to everyone that’s liked and read this!! Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Warnings: Infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you. Chapter-specific warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: I’d heard from Neal a couple of times since the seminar. I’d gotten a formal email thanking me for ‘sharing my expertise’ with the office, and then a less formal email asking my opinion on a particular strategy (which had struck me as odd, and something he really ought to go to a coworker about).

My interactions with Neal and Andy had led me to the conclusion that I wouldn’t be so stupidly interested in (or incredibly irritated by) Andy if I properly had my eye on someone else. Despite the fact that Neal had seemed interested, he worked with Andy, and that was way too close for comfort. I hadn’t bothered with online dating for a couple of years, and I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since my junior year of college. Though, after nearly a whole half hour of swiping through Tinder, I was already losing hope. Nora had mentioned a few other apps for me to sign up for, but I’d just wanted to start with one and work my way up. I stopped on one profile, considering. He was cute.... Looked a bit like Neal. I sighed, swiping right before moving on. I’d heard from Neal a couple of times since the seminar. I’d gotten a formal email thanking me for ‘sharing my expertise’ with the team, and then a less formal email asking my opinion on a particular strategy (which had struck me as odd, and something he really ought to go to a coworker about). I had replied with an honest and business-minded email, which had surprisingly kicked off a back-and-forth. The content mostly steered toward work -- he’d asked if the Christmas season made me work schedule better or worse; I asked him if judges disapproved of ugly sweaters, and if so, were they worth risking it on the off-chance it endeared you to the jury. I frowned when my phone screen switched to a phone call, displaying the name ‘Laurie Barber’. I got off of my couch and and headed into the kitchen, wine glass in hand. I drained it before hitting the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello?” I asked. “Hi!” Laurie was bright on the other end. “Hey,” I greeted, “What’s up?” “I wanted to invite you to our Christmas party!” I cringed, setting my wine glass on the counter and stepping over to my fridge to retrieve what was left of the rosé. I’d been avoiding Laurie’s invitations for a few week’s now -- to the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot marathon fundraiser for Jacob’s school, to the Newton town tree lighting, to spiked hot chocolate night with her and Toby (because apparently I’d managed to make a good impression on Toby at brunch). Laurie would’ve been running at the Turkey Trot, but she’d told me I could “hang out with Andy at the water station for the participants” while she was running; she’d helped organize the tree lighting, and would’ve been busy, but “don’t worry, Andy’ll be there!”; spiked hot chocolate night would’ve been at the Barber residence. God knows if he would’ve been around. But a Christmas party? “It’ll be tons of fun-- caroling, s’mores, and-- an ugly sweater contest, that was Jacob’s idea, he saw some really fun ones on the internet,” Laurie was going on as I poured myself another glass of wine. I considered this as I put the bottle down. It was a party. There was be scads of people there, Andy would be co-hosting. There was virtually no chance I would be alone with him under any circumstances. Besides, I’d turned down so many of Laurie’s invitations that I was starting to feel bad. "Sounds like fun! Can I bring anything?” I asked. -- The fear that Andy and I might wind up alone somehow was further assuaged the second I stepped into the Barber household. It looked like half of the Newton Bar Association had been invited, as well as the PTA of Jacob’s school, a third of the student body, and the board of the Children’s Cottage. I located Laurie quickly enough, smiling at the blinking Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer sweater that was too cute to constitute as an ugly one. She drew me into a warm hug, grinning. “I’m so glad you made it!” She said, steering me into the kitchen and taking the bottle of wine I’d brought from me. “No ugly sweater, huh?” Toby was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, pink-cheeked and wearing a Where’s Waldo Christmas sweater. She held her hand up, gesturing for me to give her a twirl. I chuckled, holding my hands up in surrender and doing a small spin in place, the skirt of my dress flaring out a bit with the movement. “I had a Christmas party at work and I didn’t have a chance to change before I came. Besides, I knew I’d never top what you two would be wearing,” I said. Toby hummed, nodding. “You’re excused,” She said. I smiled, leaning against the counter beside her. “That dress is darling, though,” Laurie complimented. I smiled, smoothing my hands over the red velvet fabric. “Thank you! It has pockets,” I said, tucking my hands into them. Laurie and Toby ‘Ooo’d before we all descended into giggles. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine or eggnog or anything?” Laurie asked, turning toward where the drinks were laid out on the counter. “Oh-- Do you have white wine?” I asked. “Yep, we have riesling, and chardonnay, and sauvignon blanc.” “Chardonnay please,” I said, pulling my phone out as it buzzed in my pocket. ‘You got a new match! 😍😍😍’ I had a racked up a few of the notifications in the last few hours, but I tended not to check Tinder while I was at work. I glanced at Toby and Laurie and, finding them both occupied, I opened the app. I looked through the new matches, a few of whom had already messaged me. I answered a couple before I tucked my phone away again, accepting the glass Laurie held out to me. “Cheers,” I said brightly. -- “Of course, you really want to invest now-- In a few years, the value of gold is going to skyrocket.” Gary Lanzman was, quite possibly, the most boring man I had ever had the misfortune to wind up in a conversation with. “I did not know that,” I said, shaking my head a little bit (I still didn’t know that, I hadn’t processed anything he’d said since ‘hi, I’m Gary’). I frowned as my phone buzzed repeatedly in my pocket. “Oh-- I’m sorry,” I reached into my pocket, pulling it out and looking at the number, “It’s a client, excuse me,” I said, shooting him and Toby an apologetic smile as I excused myself. I answered the call, muttering, “Hi! Give me one second, I’m just trying to get to a quiet place.” There were no quiet places fucking anywhere; the Barber house was packed to the rafters with respectable but noisy people. I wasn’t even going to try upstairs; it would be a fight to get to where my coat had been flung over the back of the couch and I wouldn’t go out without it, it was freezing outside. I spotted the door to Andy’s office and frowned. I had gone in once or twice back when I babysat Jacob, but I’d never spent much time in there. I squeezed past a couple of people before I tried the handle. The door was unlocked. I opened the door, peering inside. The room was dark, and blessedly quiet. I relaxed, shutting the door behind myself and hurrying over to flick on the lamp on Andy’s desk. “Hi! I’m so sorry about that,” I said quickly. -- “Right... Absolutely, and that is why Nora and I are keeping such a close eye on this,” I said. I had been on the phone for nearly half an hour. In that time I’d kicked off my heels, paced around Andy’s office, and finally taken up residence on the edge of his desk, swinging my feet back and forth as I worked to assuage my client’s worries. I jumped at the sound of the door opening, hand coming up to my chest when I saw Neal poke his head in. I sighed silently, signalling to him that I was on the phone. He nodded, and I figured that that would be that, but instead he stepped inside, shutting the door behind himself with a smile. I raised a brow as he wandered around, looking at the books on Andy’s shelf, trailing his fingers along the spines. I had the feeling Andy wouldn’t like that. “Mhm... I completely understand. Tell you what, I can send you an email tomorrow morning that outlines everything that we talked about. If you like, we can schedule a call with Nora on Monday and just make sure we’re all on the same page... Well of course, Millie, that’s what I’m here for... Yes, you, too. Have a great weekend...Okay...Okay...Thanks. Bye.” I pulled the phone away from my ear, shaking my head a little as I hung up. “Everything alright?” Neal asked. “Yeah, just uh,” I swept my hand through my hair, “A heavy-handed client.” “Did I hear you say you’d be sending her an email in the morning?” Neal asked, leaning against the bookshelf across from me. I nodded. “I was planning on going in anyway, this is just getting added to the list,” I admitted. I slid off of the desk, toeing into my shoes and picking up my glass of wine from where I’d left it on Andy’s desk. “Yikes,” Neal commented. I smiled. “It’s not that bad.” “I think you might work more than I do.” We were quiet for a moment; Neal wasted no time in looking me over, and didn’t bother to be subtle about it. I quirked a brow as he met my eye again. “No ugly sweater?” I asked. Neal smiled. “Not quite my thing,” He said. “Why not?” “Just...Not my style.” “I’m sure you could’ve found one that looked like a suit and tie.” Neal laughed, pushing off of the bookshelf and ambling closer to me. “Maybe,” he conceded. He stopped within inches of me, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. “What are you doing in here?” I asked. “Would you believe me if I said I was looking for the bathroom and got lost?” He asked. “Not for a second.”  Neal’s smile widened, and he nodded before he turned and fiddled with a paperweight on Andy’s desk. “I saw you duck in here and I didn’t see you come out.” “Well, that would be because I’m still in here,” I teased before striding away from the desk. I retraced his steps, looking over a few of Andy’s books. I could feel Neal watching me as I pulled one out, skimming the back cover. “Hey,” Neal said softly, coming up behind me, “I’ve been meaning to ask you--” Whatever it was was cut short by the door opening to reveal a moderately irritated looking Andy. “There you are, Loguidice,” He said, leaning against the now-open door. He kept one hand on the door knob and tucked the other tucked in his pocket as he stared Neal down, “Your date’s looking for you.” My brows rose. I glanced back at Neal, whose jaw had gone tight with irritation. “Thanks,” He said stiffly before glancing back down at me. “I’ll see you out there,” He added lightly, smiling before he left the study, brushing past Andy. I turned back to the book, wiggling it back into its place. I froze as I heard the click of the door close and Andy say, “She’s not that cute.” “Hm?” I tipped my head in his direction without turning to look at him. “His date.” “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” I said. “Well, it explains why he’s more interested in being alone with you.” I took a sip of my wine, hoping it would dampen the butterflies in my stomach and explain the redness taking over my ears. I plucked another book off of the shelf, looking it over. “I see you chose professional over personal,” I said, thinking back to the conversation we’d about Neal weeks before. I understood what Andy had meant now; Neal was very outwardly ambitious, and Andy keeping him close by could signal to Lynn that she was on her way to being ousted, even if it wasn’t true. “You think I made the wrong choice?” His voice was closer now, but I didn’t turn to see just how close. I was a little afraid to find out. I tucked the book away again before I turned, walking back over to Andy’s desk and looking over the stack of books there. “I couldn’t say. You know your own situation better than I ever could.” “You’d know it better if you weren’t avoiding me.” “I’m not avoiding you.” “No?” Andy asked. “Nope.” I set my glass of wine on the desk, reaching into my pocket as my phone buzzed. It was a Tinder notification. “You need to get that?” Andy asked. I shook my head, turning and leaning back against the desk, dropping my phone back in my pocket. When I looked up, I found Andy just a few feet away, leaning against his bookshelf as I had been before. It was clear he’d been a late arrival to the party - he’d only stripped out of his suit jacket, had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Andy said. “I just said I didn’t need to get it.” “I meant between you and Neal.” My brow furrowed as I considered his question. “What could you have possibly interrupted?” I asked. “You tell me,” He said, folding his arms over his chest. “We were just talking.” “About what?” “Work.” “Whose, yours or his?” “Mine, but we had talked about his, too.” “What about yours?” “I had to step in here to take a call from a client. He commented that I work a lot.” “Do you think he was trying to suss out availability for some kind of one-on-one time?” “Objection. Leading the witness,” I teased. Andy laughed, shaking his head. When he looked at me again, it was from under his lashes, this warm, disarming smile on his lips. “C’mon,” He said softly, in a way that told me he thought I was being naïve. I rolled my eyes. “What does it matter what Neal and I were talking about?” Andy straightened from his lean, hands still tucked in his pockets as he drifted closer to me. I watched him warily, heart rabbiting in my chest as he got closer. Was it stuffy in that room? It had to be-- I was boiling. What the hell did they keep their thermostat set to, anyway? “Maybe I don’t want you talking to him,” Andy said. He was close enough to touch, close enough to speak so low without having to raise his voice, close enough that I could see the chain peeking out from underneath his collar. It was a struggle to keep my eyes locked with his, not to let them greedily wander over his lips and neck like I wanted to. “You have no say in who I talk to, Barber,” I pointed out. Andy frowned a little at that, head tipping to the side. “Why do you call me that?” He asked.  “What?” “You never use my name.” “Barber is your name.” “You know what I mean.” Andy crowded closer, hands resting on the desk behind me and caging me in. I was sure he could hear my heart pounding, or at least feel where our chests were brushing together. He looked down at me, eyes dark with something I couldn’t place. “Say my name,” he murmured. It was a simple request, so why the hell did it feel so goddamn salacious? I swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry. “...Why?” I asked. “Because I want to hear it,” Andy reasoned. “You afraid I don’t know it?” I sassed, trying to regain some composure, some semblance of the upper hand. Andy wasn’t having it, though; the attempt made his lips twitch with amusement before his head dipped closer. My eyelids fluttered as his lips skimmed over my jaw. “Barber--” I mumbled, raising my hands with the intention of pushing him away.  Instead, they curled in the fabric of his shirt, the traitors, savoring in the crinkling of the crisp fabric in my grip, in the press of muscle that I feel under the layers of cloth. Andy tutted against my skin before he lifted his lips to my ear. “Doesn’t have to be loud,” he murmured, “Say it.” I shivered at the puff of his breath against my ear, the light scrape of his beard against my cheek. I shouldn’t have touched him. I had to let go. I had to let go, and push him away, and laugh. This was a joke, this was all an awful, awful joke. It had to be. Even my hottest dreams hadn’t felt this good-- And we were barely doing anything. “Andy,” I mumbled. I squeezed my eyes shut as I did, heat flooding my face. I felt ridiculous, exposed; I wanted to curl myself into his chest as if I could hide from him there. Andy hummed in approval, the sound vibrating against the hinge of my jaw as his hands lifted from their post on the desk, skimming over the curve of my thigs and sliding up. They gathered in the fabric, bunching it up a bit. I squirmed against him, breath coming out in short pants as I squeezed my thighs together. Andy’s hands settled on my waist, thumbs rubbing soothingly over the fabric, like he could still me that way, as if I could be calm. “Say it again.” I didn’t think I could. I shook my head a little bit. Andy’s thumbs pressed a little harder into me. “C’mon, sweetheart,” He soothed, “I know you know it.” I sucked in a sharp breath at that, unable to help myself. “Andy,” I exhaled. I bit my lip as Andy began to press kisses along the line of my jaw. One of my hands uncurled from his shirt, lifting and hovering over at the side of his neck, unsure. “It’s okay,” he murmured against my cheek, “You can touch me. I want you to.” I turned my head a little to meet his eye, shy in my curiosity before I let my hand settle against his skin, faintly registering the ridges of his chain under my palm. Andy nudged his nose against my cheek, dropping another kiss against to my jaw, then my chin. He went still for a moment, watching me before he brushed a tender kiss to corner of my mouth. I let my hand slide up his neck, grasping at the hair at his nape. I more felt than heard the approving rumble he made before his lips were at the corner of mine again, pressing another kiss to the same spot, lingering, soft, warm. It would be so easy to turn my head and catch his lips with mine-- Or to slide my hand up into his hair and pull like I wanted to. If I just leaned back on the desk a little more, spread my legs, Andy would have plenty of room to-- I jerked back from Andy as I heard the doorknob jiggle. We were still pressed close together as Andy turned to look at the sound; his hands didn’t fall away from me as they should’ve. “Andy--” I hissed, pushing at his chest and sending him a couple of steps back. He frowned down at me, affronted. “Hey, Andy, have you seen-- Oh, there you are!” Toby said brightly, cheeks flushed, “Come on, you haven’t even tried to find Waldo on my sweater yet!” She said, holding her hand out to me. She was tipsier, saw nothing off about my own flushed appearance or slight dishevelment. I didn’t shoot Andy a second glance or reach for my glass where I’d left it on Andy’s desk. I took hold of Toby’s hand and let her pull me back out into the throng of party-goers. I lingered for five more minutes, told Laurie I’d have to work early in the morning, and managed to leave without seeing Andy again. Nothing I did could get rid of the thought of him, though -- of his hot breath on my skin, or his hands on my thighs, or his lips on the corner of mine. I got a text from a number I didn’t know as I pulled into a parking space at my apartment building. (8:24 PM) Nightcap? (8:25PM) Who is this? (8:25 PM) Neal. I got your number from Laurie. I looked down at my phone, leg bouncing restlessly. There was no way I’d be able to go upstairs and face the rest of the evening alone. I needed to get out of my own head for a while. (8:26 PM) Your date won’t miss you? (8:26 PM) She’s not a date, just a friend. That was good to hear. I’d already gotten in the middle of one too many couples that evening. I pushed that thought down with a shake of my head, texting Neal my address. (8:27 PM) My place is a lot more fun than a packed bar. (8:27 PM) Be there in twenty.

Tag list: @fanficadddddict69 ; @nina-sj​; @rosalynshields

#I Could Be Your Sometimes #andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber imagine #andy barber x reader

[uenodivision]

Sakurai Clan Drama Track 1 - So It Goes.

Pt. 2

-- The Long Pub, Ueno Division --

[The time had struck 7:08 PM, as one of the most popular bars in the Ueno Division slowly began to fill up as more and more people who had just gotten off work started filling in the empty seats. Numerous conversations could be heard as workmen began complaining to one another about their bosses, their work schedules, their co-workers, their spouses, etc. As the alcohol began entering their bodies, their conversations became less inhibited and more provocative.]

[Nestled in the very back of the bar sat two women at a medium-sized circular table. There were three seats present, but only two were taken, which the women were currently seated on. The third one remained vacant, meaning that someone else was expected to be joining them. One of the women, a Catholic nun, sat patiently on the left of the table, silently reading a large book with a red cover. The other one, dressed like a businesswoman, sat on the right of the table with her arms crossed, and her left foot tapping the floor continuously.]

Shisuta: *Looking up from her book* Kisouna-san, could you kindly please stop that?

Kisouna: *growls under her breathe* Sorry Shisuta, but if you haven't noticed, I'm a little annoyed at the moment.

Shisuta: Yes, I can see that. *Places the book down on the table*

Kisouna: She's the one who called this so-called 'emergency meeting', and then she doesn't even have the common decency to show up on time!

Shisuta: Perhaps she's simply stuck in traffic. I'm sure she's trying her hardest to make it here as we speak.

Kisouna: Or, knowing her, she probably just forgot and remembered at the last second.

Shisuta: Kisouna-san...

Kisouna: Don't 'Kisouna-san' me, Shisuta. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get a babysitter for Yomi this late? And this was the only day out of the week I get off early from work. I was really looking forward to speaking some quality time with her! Instead, I'm stuck here at this dingy, Godforsaken bar waiting for her to show up for some meeting that we could have simply discussed over the phone or any other time!

Shisuta: I understand. But Aranai wouldn't have called us out here if she didn't feel that it was important.

Kisouna: *sighs* You are a far better person than me, Shisuta. For the life of me, I will never understand how you manage to put up with her for all this time.

Shisuta: Aranai is a good person and a nice young woman. She just has her own way of showing it.

Kisouna: Whatever. *Checks her watch on her left wrist* I'm giving her another five minutes before I decide to leave, so she better hurry up.

Aranai: I'm already here, Boss-Lady.

[Yelping in fright, the prosecuting attorney looked behind her as the leader of the group's team stood, wearing her former biker outfit. Under her arm were a variety of rolled long pieces of paper. What they were exactly was unknown.]

Kisouna: Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!

Shisuta: Kisouna...

Aranai: Look... *Sits down in the empty seat in the middle, dropping her long pieces of paper to the floor, under the table* ...do not start with me, okay? It has been a long-ass day...

Shisuta: *Scowls* Aranai, language.

Aranai: *Scowls back, before sighing* Fine. It has been a very long and very stressful day for me, okay? The last thing I need is any lip from you right now.

Kisouna: Oh, I'm so sorry, your majesty! I didn't realize that you were so stressed out! I mean, it's not like Shisuta or I haven't been working hard all day at our respective jobs while you've been doing who knows what with your free time! And it's not like you didn't call this emergency meeting at the last minute when we could have had something else planned for the evening. Please accept my most sincerest apologies for not realizing that you were so stressed and tired!

Aranai: *glares* Look you, I just said I'm not in the mood for any of your shit right now, okay?! You have no idea what I've been doing all day, so don't act...

Kisouna: And you have no idea what either of us have been doing all day! Unlike you, we have to work for a living to provide for our families! So don't act like you are entitled to special treatment just because you're a little bit annoyed! Imagine how I felt when you suddenly sent a text an hour after I left work telling me to meet you at a bar for some damn meeting that we could have easily discussed on the weekend or some other day!

Aranai: Bitch, if you don't calm your ass down in about five seconds, I'm...

Kisouna: You'll what?! Start a brawl right here in the bar? How very masculine and typical of you!

[Before the two women could speak or do something, they suddenly heard a loud thump on their table, making the both of them jump in shock. Looking over, they saw Shisuta smiling at the both of them. However, unlike her usual gentle smiles, this one had a dark feeling to it, which meant that though she was smiling on the outside, inwardly she was feeling quite annoyed and upset, no doubt at her friends' behavior in a public place.]

Shisuta: *smiling a dangerous smile* Are the two of you quite done?

Aranai & Kisouna: *Scared out of their wits* ...H-Hai.

Shisuta: Good. *Her smile goes back to normal* Now then, I understand the both of you may be annoyed and stressed, but that is no excuse for insulting or belittling one another. We are a team, and more than that, we are friends. This is not how friends should act with one another.

Shisuta: *Looks over at Kisouna* Kisouna, I understand how you feel, but bringing up a person's past when they've moved on from it, or are trying to, is not okay. *Looks over at Aranai* And Aranai, you must understand how Kisouna feels. She had plans to spend with her daughter this evening, and your meeting ruined them for her, especially when it was given with no prior notice. So can you see why Kisouna-san may feel a bit upset?

[Both women looked upset and somewhat embarrassed as the 'heart and soul' of the team called them both out on their behaviors.]

Shisuta: Now, let us start over, shall we? Please apologize to each other, so we can begin this meeting.

Kisouna: R-right. *Clears her thought and looks at the team leader* I apologize for what I said. Yes, I was annoyed, and I still am, to be honest, but that still is no excuse for what I said. I apologize.

Aranai: Y-yeah. Same here. Sorry. *Scratches the back of her head, embarrassed*

Shisuta: There! See? *Smiles a gentle smile* The Lord is surely smiling on this scene. He loves it when His children get along with one another. So let's endeavor to do that more often, shall we?

Aranai & Kisouna: H-hai.

Shisuta: Good. Now then... *Looks over at Aranai* ..could you explain exactly what was so important that you called us here?

Aranai: R-right. *Clears her throat, before standing up and reaching into the left pocket of her jeans. She pulls up out a crumpled piece of paper and puts it in the middle of the table*

Aranai: I received this letter in the mail about a week ago.

Kisouna: *adjusts her glasses on her face as she picks up the letter to read it* Who's it from?

Aranai: *Frowning* Chuohku.

[At this, both Kisouna and Shisuta look up at their team leader, surprised.]

Kisouna: *still shocked* Chuohku?!

Aranai: That's what I said.

Kisouna: What for?!

Aranai: *Points to the letter in her teammate's hand* Read it and find out.

[Obeying, the attorney began scanning the letter. Adjusting her seat, Shisuta moved closer to her friend, reading the letter, as well. Both pairs of eyes took in every letter, word, and sentence, the Chairwoman's voice in their minds.]

Otome: Dear Ms. Norikoru, as you probably are aware, the upcoming Division Rap Battle Tournament will commence in just a few short weeks. As the leader of the Party of Words and Japan's current Prime Minister, I am sending you this letter to inform you that both you and your team (Sakurai Clan) will be participating in the next tournament. Your opponent(s) in the tournament is unknown at this present time, but information will be sent to you and your team in the coming weeks about the other teams.

Otome: In the meantime, I strongly suggest you and your team begin practicing your skills together to form a cohesive unit. I have witnessed your team in action before and have heard your voices clearly, so I know that three of you will make for an interesting tournament. I look forward to a good show. Do not disappoint me. Sincerely, Otome Tohoten.

Otome: P.S. Just in case you are thinking of refusing the invitation, do be aware that your former crimes are still on file and can be sent to the Ueno Police Department at any time. And neither your teammates nor your friends will be able to protect you. Do keep that in mind.

[After finishing the letter, both women blinked, as their brains slowly processed the information that they just had read. Shisuta bowed her head and could be heard muttering something under her breath. A prayer, maybe. Kisouna, let the letter fall out of her hand onto the table, as she crossed her legs and placed a hand on her forehead.]

Aranai: Now you see why I needed to have this meeting tonight.

Kisouna: *Lifts her glasses up onto her forehead, rubbing her eyes with her index finger and thumb* ...You said you'd received this letter about a week ago, correct?

Aranai: *confused* ...Yeah, so?

Kisouna: I see. *Places her glasses back onto her face, and looks up at her leader, scowling* So then, can you kindly explain to Shisuta and me why you felt the need to wait till now to tell us this important bit of information?

Aranai: I would have told you both sooner, but I needed to get some things ready.

Kisouna: What things?

Aranai: *She reaches under the table and picks up one of the sheets of paper, unfurling it for the others to see* This.

[Kisouna and Shisuta, who seemed to have stopped her prayer for a brief moment, looked at what their leader had placed on the table. Getting a good look at it, their eyes grew big and wide as the sheet of paper was actually a poster. And on the poster was the group's logo and name.]

Aranai: *Proud of yourself* What do you think? Pretty cool, right?

Shisuta: Umm... *She tries to think of the right words to say* ...It's uhh... very pink and pretty...

Aranai: Right?! I had a friend of a friend make them for me. Luckily, the design was relatively simple so it only took him a couple of days to do. He just finished today, so I...

Kisouna: This?

Aranai: Huh?

Kisouna: This is what you spent the better part of a week doing? *Her voice is steadily rising*

Aranai: Hey, I needed some sort of way to get people here hyped up. If we're entering this Division battle, then we...

Kisouna: Instead of spending the week maybe, I don't know, researching the other teams, you spent your time developing posters to put around the city?!

Shisuta: Kisouna-san, calm down!

Kisouna: I will not! *Looks back at Aranai* Do you not realize what this means, Aranai?! We are going to be entering a Division Rap Battle! Do you know what that means?! *Without waiting for an answer, she continues her tirade*

Kisouna: It means, we are going to go up against other teams from the other Divisions! Divisions like: Aoyama, Saitama, Shinagawa, Kyoto, Harajuku, Akihabara, and who knows where else!

Aranai: *confused* Okay, so what's your point?

Kisouna: The point is, Aranai, instead of spending time making artwork, you could have spent that time doing research on the other teams! Inspecting them for their strengths! Their weaknesses! Anything that might give us an edge against them! As it is now, we are at a complete disadvantage!

Aranai: Hey, will you chillax already? Like the letter said, we don't even know who the other teams or Divisions are. We'd just be wasting time and money traveling to them.

Kisouna: It doesn't matter, Aranai! If you had informed Shisuta or me ahead of time, then maybe we could have done something to prepare! Like the letter says, the rap tournament is in only a few short weeks, and we've not anything to get ready for it! *Mentally exhausted, she collapses in her chair, her tirade over with* We are doomed.

Aranai: No, we're not. Look, we have plenty of time, okay? Whenever we can, we'll all either practice rapping alone or together. And once we have information on the other teams, we'll spend time learning about them, okay?

Kisouna: *Looks over at Aranai* You make it sound so simple...

Aranai: What's not simple about it? We're already a pretty good team, separate or together.

[Kisouna sighs, rubbing her forehead, as she feels a headache coming.]

Shisuta: Look, this news has been a bit of a surprise for all of us. *She stands out of her chair* So, why don't we end the meeting here, and reconvene again at a later time, okay?

Kisouna: Good idea. I need to hurry home and tuck Yomi in.

Aranai: What?! But we still need to discuss where to put our posters.

Shisuta: Maybe at a later date, Aranai-san. As I stated, this news has been a bit of a shock. I need to return home and meditate on this.

Kisouna: As I said, it would have been nice if someone had mentioned this to us earlier. Then we might have had time to compartmentalize all of it.

Aranai: Well, sorrrry.

[Kisouna rolls her eyes as she stands from her table, exiting the bar with Shisuta following behind her, and Aranai taking up the rear, juggling the posters in her hands.]

Kisouna: *Sighs as she steps outside* We should try to get together on the weekend sometime so we can discuss our next move.

Shisuta: *Nods* Yes, that seems like a good idea.

Aranai: Fine with me. Just as long as it's not at my house.

Kisouna: *Ignores Aranai* Good, then I'll send you both a text detailing the...

[Before the attorney could finish her sentence, she and her friends were alerted to a woman's scream in a nearby alley.]

-- Random Alleyway --

[A woman in her mid-to-late 20s stood scared as she stared at a group of ruffians approaching her with lecherous looks on their faces. It was quite obvious what goal they had in mind. The woman looked for a way to escape, but it was quite obvious she was literally caught between a rock and a hard place.]

Woman: N-n-no p-p-please.

Ruffian #1: Hey, hey, hey, what's the deal lady? Me and my friends are just looking for a good time is all.

Ruffian #2: Yeah, you satisfy all three of us, and we'll let you go. No harm, no foul.

Ruffian #3: *Laughs pervertedly*

Woman: N-no, someone help!

[As the men continued to approach, they stopped as they heard a whistle from the entrance of the alleyway. Turning around, they, along with the woman, were surprised to see three other women standing there. The one in the middle stood with her hands in her pockets and looked barely out of high school. The one on the left looked like a nun, and the one on the right looked like a woman of business or something.]

Aranai: *Scowls at the ruffians* Hey fellas, don't you know that when a woman says 'no', that's usually what she means?

Shisuta: For shame. *Shakes her head, sorrowfully* Truly the Lord is saddened and upset at this display.

Kisouna: Hmph. *Glares at the ruffians* Disgusting. Men like you sicken me to the very core.

[At first, the ruffians were confused, but upon seeing the women, their lecherous thoughts returned.]

Ruffian #1: Well lookie here, my women come to play with us!

Ruffian #2: If you three stay right there, we promise to treat you nice, after we're done with this one. *Points to the trapped woman*

Ruffian #3: *Laughs pervertedly*

[Looking at three men, the women of Sakurai sighed and shook their heads.]

Kisouna: These fools need a hard lesson in respect. *Places a hand behind her back before taking a microphone out of nowhere*

Shisuta: Agreed. *Reaches into the breast pocket and takes out a microphone* I truly abhor violence, but I'm afraid I can't let you get away with this.

Aranai: *Laughs as she takes a microphone out of coat pocket* You lot picked the wrong day to do this. After the day I've had, letting off some steam is gonna feel really good. *Looks to her teammates* Let's teach these guys a lesson, Sakurai Clan-style!

Shisuta & Kisouna: Right!

[Aranai:]

Let's rock!!

Well now, what's all this? People starting trouble? In my fair city of Ueno? Uh-uh, skedaddle on the double But oh no, it's too late You missed your chance, now here's your fate Time to mete out your punishment Boss-Lady, what's the Verdict?

[Kisouna:]

Guilty, guilty, guilty! Times three for all of thee Attempted rape and assault And don't dare say it's not your fault! You'll be punished highly Take your rap with no complaint And don't try to beg for mercy You can get that from The Saint

[Shisuta:]

Heavenly Father, hear me now As I come before your throne Please give your everlasting mercy To these three misguided souls Really? Thank you so much! God has forgiven you But as for your punishment, He said 'I'll leave that up to you'

[Sakurai Clan:]

Here in Ueno, there are three rules You all must obey: 1: Don't start trouble 2: Don't lose your way 3: Most important of all Never disrespect the Hana (flower) If you break any of these, your fate is this: Senbonzakura!!

[As the last word was uttered, a group of what looked like cherry blossom petals enveloped the three ruffians before it suddenly exploded, causing the ruffians to scream out in pain. Kisouna looked at the scene, a serious look on her face. Shisuta had her eyes closed, and her palms together, as if praying. Finally, Aranai stared at the scene, a fearless grin on her face.]

-- 20 Minutes Later --

[After alerting the police, the ruffians were handcuffed and soon led into a police car. They were all covered with black marks and burns on their skin, due to the combined attack of the Sakurai Clan.]

Kisouna: *Talking to one of the police officers* I expect a copy of your report on this incident on my desk no later than noon tomorrow, understand?

Police Officer: *salutes* Yes ma'am!

[As the police officer returned to his cruiser, he was prepared to drive off, but stopped as Shisuta tapped on his window seal.]

Shisuta: Just a moment, please.

[Walking to the back of the cruiser where the criminals sat, they were confused when Shisuta placed something in one of their laps. It was a red-covered book with the words, 'Holy Bible' on the front.]

Shisuta: Whilst serving your punishment, please read that and meditate on its words. If you do, I promise you'll all be better men for it.

[Smiling a gentle smile at them as the window seal rolled up, the Catholic nun watched as the police cruiser drove off down the streets. She then walked back to where her teammates were.]

Shisuta: Oh, where is the young woman?

Kisouna: She called her husband to come to get her. He arrived just before the police did. After they got both their statements, they were free to go.

Shisuta: I see. That is good.

Aranai: *Stretching her arm and back* Man, that was just what I needed.

Kisouna: *Nodding* I hate to admit it, but yes, I agree.

Shisuta: *Nods* Indeed.

Aranai: So, wouldn't you say that we're still a good team even without practice?

Kisouna: *sighs* Aranai, our skill was never in question. I know that all three of us are good, but that still doesn't change the fact that we may be up against powerful teams.

Shisuta: True. But I feel that we have a good chance. No matter who opposes us, as long as we work together we can succeed.

Aranai: Exactly! Cause unlike the other teams, the sakura is on our side.

[Holding up the team's sign, Aranai waited for her teammates to reciprocate. Nodding, Shisuta did so. Both women then looked at Kisouna, who simply sighed, before mimicking them.]

Kisouna: I'd kill to at least a fraction of your optimism.

Aranai: It's not optimism, it's confidence!

Shisuta: *laughs* Indeed.

Kisouna: Well, you'll have to share some of that confidence for next time. Until then... *she begins walking down the street to where her car is park* ...stay safe, both of you.

Shisuta: You, as well. Good night, Kisouna.

Aranai: Later.

[Waving goodbye without looking back, Kisouna disappeared down a street corner, leaving her friends behind.]

Shisuta: *Looks at Aranai* I assume you'll be staying over again tonight?

Aranai: Sure, as long as I don't have to sleep on the couch again.

Shisuta *Sighs* It pays to be grateful, Aranai.

Aranai: *Shrugs* Meh, I'll work on it.

[As the moon slowly, but surely, shined in the night sky, it declared the end of another day in the city of Ueno...]

To Be Continued...

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #drama track #kisouna yuzairu #shisuta heisha #aranai norikoru #ueno division #sakurai clan #so it goes

[jaeminlore]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Jaehyun

summary: you can count on me

words: 2.2k+

category: jaehyun x gender neutral reader unless i slipped up, in which pls tell me so i can fix it, coworker au, fake dating au, fluff, jaehyun wears sweaters, pillow fights, mistletoe (but not in the way you’d expect), jaehyun sees reader holding a baby and short circuits, this is the softest thing i’ve ever written and i’m proud of it

warning(s): christmas is explicitly mentioned as opposed to any other holiday, this is based off of a more southern/american style christmas that i’m used to, some drinking but no one gets drunk

When your co-worker, Jaehyun, approaches you a day before winter break, you think little of it. The two of you are the only teachers in the school less than forty years old, so you often hang out together.

You figure he'll wish you a gentle happy holidays in that soft voice of his, and be on his way.

Instead, he looks nervous, wringing his beanie through his fingers. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "Two full weeks of no pay, and all of my family has planned a Christmas in the Bahamas without me."

Jaehyun whistles lowly. "That sounds a bit..."

"Sad?" you stuff your books into your box. "Yeah, but it's whatever. I'll find something to do."

"You could come home with me," Jaehyun says. "I mean, my family thought I was bringing a significant other anyway, so it kind of works out."

"Huh?" You glance up at the fellow teacher in his stupid teddy bear cardigan. It makes him look soft and cozy. "What works out?"

"I need you to pretend to be dating me during break."

"Why?" you ask. The only reason you aren't more surprised is the fact that Jaehyun is always using weird anecdotes to get out of things, and you assume this is nothing different.

"Like I said, my parents think I'm bring home a significant other."

"Why don't you just tell them you don't have one?" you ask.

Jaehyun pokes at the miniature globe on your desk. "If I told them that, they'd try to hook me up with one of their picks. Listen, when I lied to them, I didn't think they'd insist I bring my significant other to family functions."

"That's kind of what happens when you're dating someone," you say. "Anyways, so what? I pretend to be dating you, and in return I get free food and board for the holidays?"

"My mom will buy you a present," Jaehyun adds on.

You hand Jaehyun your box of things you have to take home during break. "Here. Carry this to my car, and you have a deal."

(It's only on the way to his parent's house when you realize that you might have to buy all of his family presents, too. When you voice these concerns to Jaehyun, he reaches over the console and pats your knee. "Not to worry. I just put our names on everything.")

-

Jaehyun's mother's hugs are a lot like Jaehyun's. She squeezes you tightly, as if she's a boa constrictor and you are merely the innocent prey.

Jaehyun doesn't save you either, he just giggles at your disheveled  appearance and fixes your hair. "Mom likes hugs."

"Oh, so do you," Mrs. Jung swats at Jaehyun's arm. "Anyways, tell me about the two of you."

"Oh!" You clear your throat and move closer to Jaehyun. You actually have no idea what he's told them about you, and you also didn't make up a cover story, so you're a bit out of luck.

Luckily, Jaehyun lies like a politician. He wraps his arm around your waist and laughs. It's fake, you know, but his mom seems to believe it. "We're at the same school, mom. I've told you about Y/n before."

"Oh! The third grade teacher?" Mrs. Jung finally makes the connection. She turns to you. "He used to gush about you all the time. I never realized you're the one he asked out."

Jaehyun's grip on you tightens just briefly, so you figure Mrs. Jung has said just a bit too much. Still, you have to play into the facade, so you lean into him. "I gushed about him a fair bit, too. And then one night I asked him out, and he said yes."

"Oh, you asked him out?" Mrs. Jung's eyes sparkle with interest. She has the same adorable dimples as her son.

"Only because he was too cowardly to do anything about his massive crush on me."

Jaehyun snorts. "Yeah, right. We both know I'm braver than you."

You turn to face him, eyes narrowed as he steels you with his cocky gaze. "Oh yeah?" You say, eyes drifting down to his lips, curled into an attractive smirk. "Prove it."

You see the moment Jaehyun short circuits. You see it as clear as day, the way he loosens his grip and opens his mouth, but no words come out.

His mom snickers. "I think Y/n is braver, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun can only sulk as he shows you to his room.

-

Mrs. Jung told you to take a nap to recover from the traveling, since the actually holiday festivities don't begin until everyone arrives tomorrow. Since you and Jaehyun are early, you get the privilege of extra sleep.

Jaehyun eyes his full-sized bed from his college days. His room is now a guest room, since he hasn't lived at home in years. But it's still got traces of him in it, like the baseball trophies from college (you try not to think of Jaehyun in a baseball uniform), or his high school diploma framed over the bathroom door.

You pull back the green-striped sheets. "I am not going to disobey your mom. I'm going to sleep."

"Ditto," Jaehyun says. He heads over to the window and drops the drapes so that the room is coated in darkness despite the afternoon sun still outside. "I'll take the floor."

"Why?" You ask, and you're already burrowed under his covers in your lounge-wear.

Jaehyun's eyes drop to your thin tank top before he looks away. His ears are a suspicious shade of pink. "I mean... wouldn't it be weird to share a bed?"

"Are you going to pull a move on me while I'm trying to sleep?" Your blunt question sends Jaehyun into a fit of coughing, which causes you to laugh out loud.

He glares at you and shuffles over to the other side of his bed. "I hate you."

"You can't hate me; you're my boyfriend," you mock.

Jaehyun tackles you then, covering your body with his own as you giggle in shock. "You're so annoying. I should've taken someone else."

"Right," you fight back, grabbing his arms and pushing him up until he's just straddling your waist, holding onto your hands. "Who would you ask? Meredith, the secretary?"

"Her red hair is pretty sexy," Jaehyun says as if HES thought about it before."

"She's like, fifty," you laugh.

"Or Taeyong from high school math," Jaehyun says. "He's cute."

"Honestly? Yeah." You let go of his hands and glance up at the ceiling. "If Taeyong had asked me, this entire day would've gone so differently."

"Oh, shut up," Jaehyun grabs his pillow and gently shoves you with it. "You can't even look him in the eyes."

"Neither can you!" You protest, voice muffled beneath his pillow.

"It's not my fault he's cute!"

"It's not my fault either!"

Jaehyun lifts the pillow and raises his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh.

"Are we arguing over Taeyong from high school math?"

"Who doesn't even know we exist?" Jaehyun answers. "Yes, I do believe we are."

"You're heavy," you grunt. You attempt to push Jaehyun off of you, but in seeing your discomfort, it only spurs him to place his full dead weight on top of you.

"Goodnight," he says, voice right beside your ear.

You know he's teasing you, because the two of you are pretty close and it's not weird. Still, you can't help but like the feeling of him being so close to you, even if it isn't as intimate as you'd like.

You sigh; give up. "Goodnight, Jaehyun."

-

Jaehyun's family is wild. His uncle (from England, apparently) brings stories about his weekly bar crawls. He also brings Christmas crackers, and you and Jaehyun steal a few extra when no one is looking, if just to get a few extra goodies.

And so explains the paper crown atop Jaehyun's head, nestled within his chocolate curls.

He looks adorable as always, but more radiantly so, and you wonder if it's his family that brings this out in him, or the mulled wine.

I want to kiss him, you think, and it's not the thought that scares you. He's an attractive man, and it's been bound to cross your every now and again.

What scares you is the thought that comes after. I could fall in love with him.

And you really aren't sure if it's the wine in your own belly, or the disorienting sound of Mrs. Jung's staticky radio, playing a distorted version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

However, Jaehyun has been holding your hand the entire day, absentminded rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. It shouldn't make your heart beat faster because it's all a show, but you find yourself playing into the facade, if just to make it last a little longer.

Jaehyun and you are sharing an armchair while the children beg the adults to let them open their gifts already. You've got your head on Jaehyun's chest, and he's covering you with a gaudy reindeer-themed blanket.

It's then when the door opens, and a woman and man walk in, the man holding a baby in his arms.

"Jina!" Jaehyun shouts. "Henry! Erin!" Then he whispers to you. "That's my sister and her husband. And their little baby," he says softly.

Erin is around one or two years old, and she seems in good spirits despite the bow tightly clipped to what little hair she has.

You get up so Jaehyun can hug his sister, and when she sees you, she gives you a hug as well. "You're the Y/n Jaehyun has told me so much about."

Jaehyun's ears go red again, and he ignores Jina's statement in lue of showing her to the presents around the tree. "Thank God you're finally here. I think the kids were going to riot if they couldn't open any presents yet."

Jaehyun settles back down with you, and you remind yourself to ask him why his family seem to already know about you.

But then the kids open whoopee cushions from Uncle Jaehyun, and all is forgotten as they begin to force everyone to sit on top of them.

-

Jaehyun truly thinks he's going to go insane. In retrospect, perhaps asking the person he's had a year-long crush on to be his fake date wasn't the best idea, but it was his only option.

And now he likes you even more, as you make an effort to get to know his family.

You don't have to, but you're wearing the sweater his mom bought for you, and you've got a stupid paper crown on your head that perfectly matches his.

And when Jaehyun rounds the counter to make some hit chocolate for the two of you, he watches you approach his brother-in-law and ask to hold baby Erin.

And now Jaehyun is truly going crazy, because you've got a baby on your hip and you're dancing to the staticky radio, singing in goofy voices with Jaehyun's younger cousins.

And he knows, knows he's in love with you.

He hopes to God this isn't a one time thing.

-

Your head feels a bit fuzzy when everyone is sent off to bed.

Jaehyun grabs your hand and pulls you into his room. "Come on. Anyone who survives a day with my family deserves a prize."

You're not sure where he had hidden it, but Jaehyun grabs a small wrapped box and hands it to you. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," you say, a bit distracted as you open it.

Inside, it's a small charm bracelet. The charm? Mistletoe.

You snort, and pull the bracelet over your wrist. "How subtle, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun's ears are red again. "Actually, I was just teaching my kids about mistletoe. The druids believed it had healing properties, and could bring the holder good luck—"

You wrap your arms around Jaehyun's shoulders and lift your hand above his head. You kiss Jaehyun before he's finished talking.

He gasps against your lips in such an innocent way that you have to wonder if he actually didn't mean to give it to you as incentive. Before you can worry, however, he's got his hands bunched in the sweater his mother bought you, and he's pulling you flush against his body.

His lips are soft and warm, and they taste like cinnamon. Every touch he gives you sends a lick of fire across your skin, and it's only when Jaehyun puts his hands beneath your sweater that you realize just how cold his hands are.

You shiver against him. He nips at your lips, smiling at your offended gasp. He moves away, places one kiss atop your forehead, and then presses his forehead to yours. "I didn't give you the mistletoe so you would kiss me, but I'm glad you did."

"Me too," you say, warmth flooding your chest again. "Now, how about you explain to me why your family keeps saying you've talked about me before."

"Actually," Jaehyun moves away from you. "I'm pretty tired, so we should just get to bed."

You tackle him again, laughing with mirth when he catches you and hugs you close to him. "I've liked you for awhile, okay?" he says.

"Now was that so hard to say?" you tease, just before receiving another pillow to your face.

#nct au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct scenario #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun scenarios #destwrites