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imagining-in-the-margins · 5 years ago

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 12 | S.R.)

Summary: A week later, Reader tries to reconnect with Spencer. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW)   Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yrs), penetrative sex, degradation, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, BDSM, choking Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST

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You might think that dating Spencer Reid would make doing your homework way easier, but you would be wrong. Turns out that dating a genius includes him lecturing you on the importance of learning things yourself.

That’s why I had been sitting at his kitchen table with him for at least two hours, struggling to finish the last five problems on my assignment while he casually read a book in a language I couldn’t even place.

“Speenceeerrr.” I called from across the table, reaching in his direction with the saddest pout I could form.

“Don’t whine,” he answered without even looking up. Jerk.

“I’m bored,” I continued to whine without any shame, “Can I come sit on your lap?”

“No.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I realized he was in one of his stubborn moods. But that was fine. I could deal with stubborn.

“Please?” I asked, only to receive another immediate “No.”

This time I put both of my hands in front of me, pressing my breasts together while I leaned over the table as I asked, “… Pretty please?”

That was enough to get him to finally lower his book, peeking across the table to see me staring at him with wide doe eyes and a coy smile.

“You’re very cute,” he said with an extremely brief smile, returning back to his book when he concluded, “Still no.”

“Come on!” I cried with a groan, “I promise I’ll behave.”

He laughed at that, idly flipping a page before speaking. “Oh, you do? You promise?”

“Yes!”

“Fine. Bring your homework,” he instructed, gesturing to me to come over without ever putting down his book.

I scrambled to collect everything, happily padding over to him and dumping my book, notepad, and pencils in front of him. Once I was there, though, he suddenly raised his hand to stop me.

“Take off your pants.”

With a raised eyebrow, I shifted my hip to the side to inspect his suspiciously calm, vague demeanor.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Considering that response was completely unhelpful but also incredibly hot, I listened. I tried to make a little bit of a show out of it, but his eyes were glued to the page in front of him until my pants finally hit the ground.

“Take off the rest.”

It was then that he started to look at me. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, licking his lips as he began undoing his own pants.

The sound of his buckle coming undone was enough to spark butterflies in my stomach, and I began removing my underwear with a renewed vigor.

“Don’t look so excited, little girl,” he warned in that low register that usually accompanied his more dominant persona. I considered arguing back, but ultimately just let out a playful giggle.

After he had finally removed his bottoms enough to reveal himself, I bounced on my toes as I waited for the command I knew was coming.

“Sit down.”

There it was. Allowing him to guide my hips to turn me around so that I was facing the table, I swung my leg over him to straddle his lap, lowering down onto him slowly.

And slow was the only word for it. He didn’t allow me to move more than an inch every few seconds, his breath hitching each time until I was fully seated on him.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face, my mouth hung open with hungry breaths. When I tried to begin moving my hips, however, he halted me with a firm grip on my hips.

He clicked his tongue in my ear, digging his fingers into my sides as he held me there. “I don’t think so. You’re going to sit here and stay very still until I tell you to move.”

“But—“ I barely got a word in edgewise before he countered.

“You promised to behave. Now do your homework. I want to finish what I’m reading.”

I huffed, struggling to move one more time and ultimately failing. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do your work and be patient and maybe I’ll fuck you, or get up and get nothing. Those are your options.”

I was certain that if I could see him, he would have that clever, devilish smirk he always wore when he was fucking with me. But I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, leaning forward to grab my pencil from the table to hopefully finish my work quickly. If he wasn’t going to check it, I could just bullshit it.

Of course, as soon as my pencil hit the page he shifted underneath me in a very purposeful way, forcing himself even deeper into me.

“Fuck!” I gasped, gripping my pencil tighter as I arched my back.

“Language.”

With a deep breath, I forced a smile as I issued an extremely sarcastic apology.

“Sorry, daddy.”

After that he was much kinder, allowing me to work without any more rude interruptions. Granted, my maximum capacity to function was still very low, and it took me at least ten minutes to finish three of the five questions.

It was hard enough having him inside of me, the warm throbbing of his cock like an extension of myself at this point, but once he finished the book, it was a completely different level of impossible. Because no sooner did the book hit the table than were both of his hands on me.

One hand remained rooted on my hip, halting any attempts at movement while the other crept up to fondle my chest. I took the new ministrations to be permission to move, but he quickly cut off that train of thought as he leaned his chest against my back.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Daddy—“ I desperately whined, my hips moving with a mind of their own even as he tried to hold me down. Spencer was still dedicated to making it worse, moving my hair to one side and latching his mouth onto my neck.

“Keep going,” he mumbled into the skin.

So I tried. I cannot stress enough how hard I tried, my mind functioning much like a toddler being told to focus on math while sitting in front of a fucking funfetti birthday cake.

“Wrong.” Spencer whispered in my ear, his eyes apparently watching my botched attempts at my homework. With a general sound of displeasure, I erased my previous answer and changed it.

“Still wrong.”

Breaking the scene for just a second, I hoarsely begged, “Please, Spencer.”

He must have sensed my mounting frustration, because soon he was palming my breast much harder, his hand finally letting my hips begin to rock.

“Tell me, is it just because my dick is in you, or are you always this clueless?”

The breath left my lungs in short bursts, his words both hurtful and hot against my ear. I didn’t let it faze me, still scribbling some answer on the sheet while I spoke. “I-I told you before I can’t... I can’t focus when you’re inside me.”

He lowered his hands, running them down my bare thighs before dragging them back up, leaving angry red marks in his wake.

“You should’ve thought about that before you asked to sit on my lap.”

This time, he lightly nibbled on my ear once he stopped talking, laughing at the way a shiver ran through my body.

“I didn’t think you would do... this,” I quietly confessed.

“So you just wanted to tease me? And now you’re mad I beat you at your own game?”

Rocking back and forth, I groaned, “It wasn’t a game, I just wanted to sit on your lap!”

“And now you are sitting on my lap and you’re still whining.” He retorted, his hands returning to their heavy petting wherever they could reach.

“Because I want you to fuck me!”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

If I had been sexually frustrated before, now I was essentially feral. The harder I tried to move, the more he tried to stop me until I got fed up, forcing out a few hostile words.

“Fuck you.”

His hand flew up to my face, grabbing my cheeks roughly and forcing my lips to pucker.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why would I listen to you if you aren’t going to fuck me?” I muttered through my contorted face, now struggling to lift off his lap.

He wasn’t having that, though, and roughly tugged me back down onto him while he thrusted up into me.

“Because I said so,” he ever so kindly reminded.

“Fuck!” I cried out at the rough intrusion, continuing with an even angrier exclamation, “Fuck you!”

“Fine.”

I’m not sure what it was about his voice when he uttered that one syllable, but dread coursed through my veins. I couldn’t tell exactly what was coming, but I knew he was going to have fun doing it.

“If you want me to fuck you, I will.”

Before I could protest, he had swept the items on the table onto the ground and lifted me off of him. He dropped me harshly against the table, standing so he could have the upper ground.

“After all, you have quite a bit of naughty behavior to answer for. And right now, I’m more than happy to administer the punishment.”

I rolled my eyes at the way he always managed to drag these things out. We both knew I was going to be a brat, so why waste our time with threats I clearly wanted him to follow through on?

“Just shut up and fuck me already.”

Spencer bitterly laughed, staring down at me with far too much amusement as his fingers brushed over my lips.

“How badly do you want it, little girl?” He said as he continued the trend of sudden, rough movements by shoving his fingers down my throat. “I should’ve warned you not to do anything to me you don’t expect me to do to you in return.”

Gagging lightly on his fingers pressing down against my tongue, I only felt my need for him to fuck me skyrocket. Through the lustful haze, I managed to remember what he had done to me in this situation… and how I had responded.

I bit down on his fingers just hard enough to leave a small indentation on them, and he jerked his hand back the same way I had.

His slap across my face was just as hard, too. The sound filled the room, and I had to bite back a moan at the way my cheek stung where his hand had hit.

When I turned my face back to him, I bit my lip before smiling.

“Do it again,” I giggled.

But he didn’t listen, because of course he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed my hips, flipping me onto my stomach on the table, my face pressed against the wood.

“I don’t take orders from you, bitch.”

Another shiver ran down my spine at his words paired with the sound of his belt slowly being removed from the loops of his pants.

“And honestly? I’m tired of hearing your voice.” He finished, his hand reaching around to open my mouth. He worked the belt between my teeth like a bit for a horse, tugging back on the material. With my head craned back, I began to rub my legs together, already missing the way it felt to be filled by him.

I tried to groan in disapproval, but it just came out as garbled noise. Spencer didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s been so long that you’ve forgotten I’m not as nice as you. That I’ve been taming brats a lot longer than you.”

For a moment I was left there just like that, laid out on his kitchen table for his consumption. I could tell from the silence that he was enjoying watching me squirm, taking in the brief image of me submitting to him without a fight.

But then the moment ended with one swift thrust into me. The force was enough to rattle the table and I grunted from the impact.

“If you’ve got a problem, don’t bother trying to tell me, because I don’t fucking care.” As he spoke, he gave a thrust after each clause, somehow becoming progressively more aggressive.

I’d felt him like this once before, although under different circumstances. This time he wasn’t just using me to get through pain. This was something else.

The freedom I could feel flowing between us was intoxicating, and for once in my life I didn’t want to fight him. I didn’t have to. He was already doing everything I could have ever asked of him.

At least, that’s what I thought until he started talking again.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his hips slowly to make sure he was fully entering me with each thrust. “You really love keeping your daddy’s cock warm, don’t you, little girl?”

It was always strange, to feel the duality of Spencer. The way that his words could sound so much like praise while littered with downright filthy words. Or how he used one hand to gag me with his belt and the other tenderly caressed my sides.

“You’re so good at being a pretty little slut for me. Letting me use you.”

His voice was so smooth, with a confidence I was unaccustomed to hearing from him. My fingernails scraped at the table, trying to fight against the way my entire body slid against the wood.

I could feel my muscles desperately clenching around him, my feet trying to remain on the floor. The light struggle didn’t go unnoticed, with a dark laugh coming from Spencer as he leaned over top of me, pressing me down with the weight of his body.

“I don’t understand how a slut like you has such a tight little cunt.”

A loud moan escaped from the little space between my teeth and the leather, and I could feel the saliva dripping down my chin. Tears had already started forming in my eyes, my cheekbone still raw from his hand now burning against the table.

“What’s it going to take to break you, huh? Or have I already?” He whispered as his fingers gripped my hips with bruising force.

“No fight left in you, little girl? You gonna give up? You gonna cry?” He mocked, earning my first attempt at a response. The gag got in my way, though, and it just came out as a wrecked sob as he entered me with another rough thrust.

“Speak up.”

The next noise out of my mouth was a guttural groan, my back arching enough to lift my face from the table and loosen the belt against my lips.

“Here, I’ll make it easier for you.” He said before using his hand to wrench the accessory from my teeth, tossing it in front of me on the table. I could see my teeth marks against the leather.

“S-Spe…” I tried, but couldn’t even finish his name. My mind seemed somewhere else, some place to which only he could take me. Nothing else mattered here; nothing except pleasing him.

Which is what made his nails against my skin so exciting. But still, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as the way he continued to laugh at the mess he made of me.

“How pathetic. You can’t even say my name? Doesn’t matter anyway.” He stood back up, providing him the leverage to drive further into me once more, pulling my hips back against him with both hands now.

“A useful cunt doesn’t talk. So don’t even think about bothering with your little safe word now. I’m not stopping until I’m finished taking what’s mine.”

I’m not sure if it was from the way my lips caught on the wood, how hard I was biting down on my lip, or a mark from the belt, but I could taste blood somewhere on my lips.

“Don’t stop.” My voice was weak and hoarse from disuse, but the words were audible, and that’s all I cared about.

I was a little surprised, though, when Spencer immediately withdrew. Then I realized that I had inadvertently given him another order, and he didn’t seem too happy about the fact it was one he wanted to follow.

With much more strength than needed, he lifted me by my arm and flipped me onto my back. My joints had given up even when the rest of me hadn’t, leaving me lolling like a rag doll under his will.

I could only imagine what he saw, my cheek only slightly less red than the blood tainted spit covering my chin as I held my body open to him.

The smirk on his face was positively feral, like a predator admiring his catch before going in for the kill.

“You’re so fucking filthy. You actually like this, don’t you?”

When I didn’t immediately answer, he brought his hand against my cheek much lighter this time. Although I knew it wasn’t a smart response, I couldn’t help but giggle at the way it caused goosebumps to ripple over my skin.

His hips snapped forward, entering me completely all at once. Spencer couldn’t stop himself from moaning, belying his stoic nature in scenes like this. He was enjoying himself so much that he couldn’t hide it anymore, and the thought just made my heart beat harder.

“Fuck me harder, daddy!” I suddenly begged, rocking my hips forward in time with his thrusts.

“God, you’re such a dirty bitch,” he responded, doing exactly what I’d asked by driving into me as the table screeched against the floor. It didn’t last long, with his hand coming up to my throat and clenching my airway within seconds. There was no warning this time.

“You’re nothing but a little toy that likes being fucked like a cheap whore.”

I would have screamed out in agreement, but I could barely manage to breathe under his unrelenting grip. Instead, my eyes began to roll to the back of my head, my mouth open in an attempt to take in any air.

“Go ahead, go to sleep, little girl. I don’t need you to be awake for this part.”

The butterflies in my stomach had migrated to my chest, filling every inch of space that used to be filled with air. The burning in my face was even hotter now, and I honestly felt I might collapse in on myself if he didn’t finish soon.

Luckily, his hips began to falter the longer he watched me scraping at his hand on my throat. With one more thrust, he threw his head back with closed eyes.

The sweat on his brow showed just how much of himself he gave to this moment, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. Seeing him come undone inside of me was one of my favorite past times.

“Fuck!” He growled through clenched teeth. His fingers twitched harder against my neck as I felt him spill his release deep inside of me, his hips still trying to push further into me. Once he opened his eyes, it’s like he suddenly remembered that I still hadn’t taken a breath, my face draining of color before he quickly lifted his hand.

I gasped, my lungs both burning and finally relaxing as they filled with air. My energy nearly drained, I hoped to god that he wasn’t planning on making me move anytime soon. For once, I was actually grateful that he hadn’t tried to get me off, too. I’m not sure I could take it.

I closed my eyes and laughed to myself about the irony of me not protesting him staying inside me now. Soon enough, he had pulled out of me, muttering another string of curse words as he tried to find the ability to walk the few feet over to the counter.

The sound of running water felt so far away and so serene. I smiled, knowing what was coming before it happened.

Sure enough, his hands were on me once more, cleaning away the evidence he’d left behind with a warm paper towel.

My face was last, with him taking extra care to be gentle. My eyes fluttered open, looking at the way he seemed to look straight into my soul, seeking any validation he could find that I was going to be alright.

“How are you, little girl?” He asked anyway, and I just sucked my bottom lip into my mouth as I smiled.

“Dirty.”

I had meant it as a joke, but I could see a flash of guilt in his eyes. Grabbing his forearm, I started to try to sit up against my body’s wishes. Something told me he needed me to be closer to him. He needed me to be okay.

“Can you stand up?” He asked, supporting my body weight with both hands on my back.

“Yeah, I think so,” I laughed.

Once I was upright, I realized that while he was still fully dressed, my legs were fucking freezing. Spencer noticed, too, and already had a plan in place for this situation.

“Let me clean you up.”

“You already did,” I responded with a nervous glance when his fingers ran through a piece of my hair hanging in my face. He just gave me that judgmental, deadpan expression that told me he knew I was trying to get out of something.

“Come on,” he said with a light pat on my ass before guiding me towards the bathroom. “We need to warm you up, anyway.”

I couldn’t argue with that; honestly, the idea of a shower sounded delightful. Still, some part of me felt strangely awkward about something so intimate. I clearly wasn’t nervous about him seeing me naked.

The thought of him taking care of me, delicately cleaning away any remaining evidence of sin, just got me much too excited. It didn’t take me long to realize that my apprehension wasn’t going to stop him.

He kept his hand wrapped around mine the whole time, even as he turned on the shower and checked the water. I didn’t mind, enjoying the glimpse into domestic life with Spencer Reid.

Although I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, I let him take off my remaining clothes before helping him remove his.

Steam filled the room that was remarkably calm. The usual suffocating sexual tension felt worlds away as Spencer helped me into the shower. My muscles immediately responded to the hot water, and I let out a happy sigh as I heard him enter behind me.

His hands were back on me, gently caressing every curve of my body under the water. Still, his touch was not sexual in the traditional sense. He pulled me closer, letting the water fall over both of us until there was nothing dry left.

Normally it would uncomfortable, for one of us to have to remain outside of the water, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. It was like all of the focus he had in that supercharged brain could only be placed on me. Keeping me happy, safe, and warm.

And I was.

I couldn’t tell if he knew that. It felt like he didn’t.

With my back still to him, I heard him rustling with the travel-sized bottles I’d started to leave behind. I wondered to myself if I should just start leaving regular items now.

I was distracted from the thought by his fingers diligently working through my hair and on my scalp, massaging the product into a lather. For a touch I claimed to be nonsexual, I felt it all over my body.

Tilting my head further back, I nearly fell over onto him in the pleasurable haze he’d created. He just gave a small chuckle, nudging me back up so he could continue.

Before he finished, I gave a soft sigh and a mewl. When he turned me around to begin helping me wash it out, I saw the goofy smile on his face.

“I love you.” He said it like it needed to be said at all. As if he weren’t tenderly caring for me in that very moment.

A selfish part of me hated when he said it, because I still wasn’t sure when I could say it back. It seemed like there was never a right time. Before, he had been worried it would be about the suspected pregnancy, and then it had been the drugs. Now, I feared it would be swallowed into that post-coital dysphoria he always brought up.

Thankfully, he didn’t make me say anything.

“Close your eyes.” He said, tilting my chin back and maneuvering his fingers through my hair to rid it of the shampoo.

It had been a long time since I’d felt cared for like this. I didn’t know how to react. My heart was overwhelmed.

He repeated the process with the conditioner, and I remained silent once again. But Spencer didn’t seem like he missed our usual snarky repartee. I began to worry something deeper was wrong... again.

That thought was an unfortunate one to have, because it caused me to turn around. I took his hands in mine, stretching out his arms to see the remnants of bruises still peppered over his skin.

“Don’t think like that, little girl.”

His voice was harsh and crackling, filled to the brim with self loathing that I always hated to hear.

“They’re fading away, and I’m still here. There...” he paused, swallowing and trying to keep himself steady before continuing, “there won’t be any more.”

But there was still a struggle in his words. I wasn’t looking to chastise him, and it hurt to see he expected it. Which is why I began to slowly shift so that he was under the water, a weird mix of a smile masquerading as a pout.

Once he was under the water, he made a face at the way it hit him differently at his height. I ignored it, grabbing his soap from the side of the tub and pouring it into my hand.

He didn’t say anything when I started to run my hands over his chest and back. He just watched me with a quiet reverence, his eyes occasionally closing with a sigh of relief.

They stayed shut when I moved to his arms, wishing I could just wash away what was left of his scars.

“I’m not worried.” I finally spoke as I took his hands in mine, smiling at the way my fingers could be so much smaller than his and still fit so perfectly in his hands. Using the positive inertia, I wrapped my arms around him and let the water wash over both of us like a third member of our embrace.

His hands stroked my back so delicately that I barely noticed them at all. As much as I enjoyed the dramatic change of pace from our earlier activities, there was something undoubtedly off with the way he was holding me now.

I let it go for a minute longer, just so we could make out way back out of the tub. With a speed that I would never expect from someone who had exerted as much energy as he had, Spencer had wrapped me in a towel and left to fetch me his clothes for me to wear in an instant. We both knew that I’d brought my own change of clothes, but neither of us spoke about it. It was much preferable, we had each privately decided, for me to be swamped in the fabrics he loved.

Not a moment too soon we were laying in his bed, curled into a messy pile of limbs trying to convince the other that our bodies really couldn’t exist without the other. I’m not sure if it was the way his fingers still dusted over me like they would shatter me or that look in his eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling any longer.

“Babe,” I cautiously began, taking his hand and pressing it fully against the cheek he so clearly wanted to touch, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It was curt and unconvincing, so I continued.

“Are you sure? You know how I feel about you lying to me.”

He sighed, rolling onto his back and away from me. His arm covered his face, but I could still see the way his eyebrows furrowed beneath it.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

At this point I was just so grateful that we’d finally made it far enough into our relationship that he didn’t feel the need to lie to me more than once. Still, I was terrified by what he could possibly say next. What was he going to tell me next? That he had a secret child? A wife?

“I just… Sometimes after we have sex I feel…”

He peeked at me, probably noting the confusion and anxiety clear in my features.

“… Like I’m the worst person in the world.”

Those previous emotions were quickly replaced with an exasperated and false gasp as I pulled myself over to him.

“Well, that does wonders for my self-esteem, Dr. Reid.” I laughed, looking up at him from where my head rested against his chest. His heart even sounded troubled somehow.

“No, it’s not that. God, no. You’re amazing.”

“I know, right?” I continued to joke, hoping that it would make his vulnerability at least a little bit easier. It seemed to work, and his arms found their home around me once again.

“I spend almost all of my time, every day, trying to find and stop murderers and rapists. The worst possible people on this earth; people that everyone agrees are evil incarnate, and then I come home and…”

He trailed off, but it was obvious what he was going to say. It was hard to hear him compare himself to the men he hunted. He didn’t talk often about work, but he’d said enough for my chest to hurt at the implication.

“Spencer…”

“How can I feel like I’m a good person when I get off on hurting something as beautiful and innocent as you?”

“I am not innocent,” I scoffed, pushing at his chest to prop myself up again. Positioning myself to hang above him, I smiled when his nose twitched from the way my hair tickled his face. His eyes flickered back and forth, seeing something I’m not sure I would ever understand.

“Yes, you are. It’s one of the many things I love most about you.”

His hand on the back of my head convinced me to close the gap between us. I planted a soft yet meaningful kiss on his lips, but it wasn’t enough to stop the racing thoughts.

“Spencer, you aren’t anything like those guys.” I assured him, running my hand through his damp hair that had just started to curl.

“I’m not always so sure.” His eyes had finally met mine, unsure and petrified all at once.

“Well, I am.” I didn’t know how to explain it to him. He was always the one who had the words to explain things. All I had were quotes from people much smarter than myself.

“Look me in my eyes right now and tell me that you would still enjoy it if you honestly knew I wasn’t having fun.”

“I don’t know.”

I could recognize that he didn’t mean it. Those endorphins he was always talking about were screwing with his head. I’d seen his reactions when I was in pain. He did not like it.

“Spencer. You’re just going to have to believe me when I say that you are a good man. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

His tongue swept over his lips before he bit down on it, trying to swallow his doubts before he could give them any more life.

“I love playing with you, and I trust you with my life because I know you would never do anything to risk it. Okay?”

Spencer looked like he was finally starting to get it. Either that or he had just realized I wasn’t going to change my mind. Regardless, he gave a small pout as he said, “Okay.”

Shimmying further onto him, I swung my leg over his hip so I was practically sprawled over him like a blanket.

“Now tell me you love me,” I teased, settling onto him while he groaned at the sudden weight.

“I do love you.” He laughed when he said it, which was my goal in the first place.

With feigned bashfulness I cooed, “Awww, thanks.”

“You’re such a dork.”

The insult was such a ridiculous notion to me that I was convinced I had heard him wrong.

“Wow, I’m going to pretend like the man with 3 PhDs didn’t just call me a dork.”

I nestled my face to his neck, feeling the way his heartbeat was fluctuating as we began to settle into the calmness of a simple night together.

“It takes a dork to love a dork,” he opined in the dorkiest manner possible. But considering how those words in his voice brought so much joy to my heart, I chose to accept his hypothesis.

“Pffft. Go to sleep, old man.” I muttered, reaching up to loosely cover his mouth with my hand. The feel of his mouth curling into a smile before kissing my palm was all I needed to feel safe enough to sleep.

“Thank you, (y/n).”

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

The next morning felt a lot like the way the previous night had ended. I swear, it was almost like Spencer and I hadn’t moved an inch throughout the night. Maybe we really had been that tired.

Either way, I wasn’t tired anymore. I knew that if I stayed splayed out on top of Spencer while I was this restless, I would wake him up anyway. So I slowly inched off, hoping not to disturb him too much.

To my surprise, he barely stirred. Don’t get me wrong; his arms followed my body and required all of my strength to peel them off of me.

“Babe, I have to get up. I’ll be right back.” I mumbled, practically crawling out of his grip while he grumbled nonsense into the pillow.

He was so adorable that I almost felt bad about leaving him there alone. Almost.

See, Spencer had done so much for me in our relationship up to this point that it was starting to feel lopsided. I didn’t like that. There is something about owing people anything that doesn’t sit right with me.

That’s why, after sleepily brushing my teeth and trying to control the disaster of a bird’s nest on my head that resulted from sleeping on wet hair, I set out to do some good old fashioned chores.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Spencer kept things - one of the perks of having a boyfriend with such a hatred of germs, I guess.

I don’t honestly know how long I spent topping off the cleaning around his apartment, but it couldn’t have been that long. The place was basically already spotless. Once I was satisfied, I picked up the thing I had been avoiding: my homework.

And that’s when Spencer conveniently awoke, ready to distract me from finishing the last few problems once more.

“I never thought I’d see you willingly doing your homework.”

I turned around from the couch, smiling at the state of my sleepy boyfriend still wrapped in a blanket. Adorable.

“Well, someone distracted me last night.”

“Oh, did they?” He joked as he came over to plant a kiss on the top of my head before making his normal beeline to make his morning cup of coffee.  But after I heard the familiar clinking of mugs, I paused my work with a smile.

“... Did you... did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah, why?” I called back, hearing the loud grinding of the gears moving in his mind.

“And made coffee.”

“Yes.”

I remained looking forward because somehow it made his confusion all the better. His hand was sliding against the counter top before moving to the stovetop, where I heard him moving the grates.

“... Did you clean my entire kitchen?”

“You’re very perceptive, Dr. Reid.”

He laughed, walking back over to me from the other direction with a pleasant, if not goofy, grin. He was going to say something else, but stopped when he noticed the basket filled with clean laundry on the floor next to the couch.

“You did my laundry? How long have you been awake? How did I sleep through this?”

Although he bent over to pick up the basket and turned to carry it off to the bedroom, he kept his eyes on me, waiting for my answer.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “A couple hours? You must have been tired.”

His eyes narrowed in an attempt to see through me, to learn the secrets of how I had managed to out-Spencer Reid him with my particularity.

“What? It’s not a very big place, Spencer. And most of your clothes are dry cleaned.”

As he walked away, I heard him groan. Like he should be embarrassed by the state of his apartment. Honestly, his starting point was cleaner than even the best deep clean would do for my apartment. If anyone was embarrassed, it was me.

“You should’ve woken me up,” he called from the hallway.

“You looked too cute!” I shouted back when he disappeared around the corner. “I didn’t want to ruin it. You don’t get enough sleep.”

Upon his return, he stood above me with a sarcastic scrutiny. I put my pencil down, looking up at him from my cross legged position on his couch.

“Is this what domestic life with you is like?” He asked, unable to hide his admiration any longer.

“Only when you’re nice to me.” I teased, reaching forward to grab the blanket still hanging over his shoulders to pull him closer to me.

“I’m always nice to you.”

“Then I guess that’s your answer.”

Losing his balance just a bit, he awkwardly stumbled onto the couch, plopping down next to me with the total lack of grace I’d come to expect from him.

“Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do any of that.”

“I wanted to.” I admitted, brushing his unruly curls out of his face. “Because now you have nothing to distract you from paying attention to me.”

He groaned, craning his neck away from me at the words, “Should’ve known there was a catch.”

“Oh yes,” I continued, climbing onto his lap with no resistance on his part. “I was thinking you and I could go to the park and…”

“Don’t say it,” he warned, raising a finger to my lips.

I didn’t care, and shouted past the digit, anyway.

“Please, Spencer! Take me for a picnic! Just once!”

“You know how I feel about picnics.”

Now it was my turn to whine, grabbing his hand between mine and lowering it, leaning forward in the hopes it would distract him.

“You can eat before and just feed me fruit. Spoil me rotten.”

My distractions didn’t work, and he didn’t even bother trying to kiss me back. He just spoke hurriedly into my lips.

“It’s not even just the food I’m worried about! Did you see the numbers of Lyme infections in the county?”

My eyebrows popped up, and I stuck my tongue out for a second in my excitement.

“Ooh, Doctor, you can check me for ticks,” I cooed.

Closing the space between us, I gave him a light, chaste kiss. Despite returning it, he also gave back a pout.

“Please don’t make me do this.”

Conveniently, he had forgotten that I was much more experienced at pouting. What I did next wasn’t really a pout, though, it was more like puppy dog eyes and a childish grin meant to evoke the strongest sense of guilt.

He dropped his head back, closing his eyes like he didn’t have an eidetic memory that would burn my cute nonsense into his brain.

“Why does the begging only work one way?”

“Is that a yes?” The excitement was clear in my voice, which must have sealed the deal.

Because he just sighed, running his hands up and down my waist.

“Fine. But I’m going to check you for ticks after and I promise you will not like it.”

This time when his hands made their way down my body, I rocked my hips against his. I could feel his erection already straining under his pants.

And he was acting like he was actually disappointed.

“You always say that and I always like it.” I pointed out, reorienting my heat over his erection and continuing my motions back and forth against him.

“Oh, really?” He tried to act calm, but I felt the way his fingers got tighter, his hips bucking up every couple of seconds.

“Yes,” I breathily whispered into his mouth before melting into a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

It didn’t last long, with his hand threading through my hair and pulling lightly to expose my neck to him.

“Tell me what you like, little girl.”

When he uttered the words, I noticed he was placing small kisses against the same pattern of his hand that had been wrapped around my neck. The thought alone consumed me, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation of his tongue swirling patterns over my pulse.

“You,” was the only syllable I could express.

The light chuckle he gave sent shivers down my spine, his bottom lip dragging over my skin while he savored the newly forming memories.

“I never got to spoil you last night,” he reminded, bringing a hand down to stroke my thigh.

“Oh, I wasn’t disappointed at all.” I was going to continue, telling him that he didn’t have to get me off every time. Then again, I knew that he wasn’t going to accept that answer, anyway. Regardless, he spoke quickly and with confidence when he said, “I’m still going to make up for it. Take off your pants.”

I wasted no time springing up from my position with a cheeky little taunt. “This sounds familiar.”

“But this time you were a good girl.”

The distinction was not lost on me, and I had to admit hearing him call me a good girl in this context turned me on more than I had thought it would. Apparently, I was wrong for thinking I was entirely a brat, because right now I just wanted to hear him praise me.

“Maybe I should do that more often,” I happily hummed as I began to straddle him once more, pausing for a moment for him to lay languid, open-mouthed kisses against my breasts.

He paused just for a second to growl, “Don’t you dare.”

I didn’t bother saying ‘I told you so’ because he was already pulling my hips down so that I could sink onto his length. Biting my lip to try and stifle the full moan, my fingers returned to their place embedded in his skin.

“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and through a clenched jaw, “I don’t think you understand what you do to me.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. I could only guess the effect I had on him by just how stupid the bona fide genius got when I was around.

When I could look into his eyes again I pushed his hair back with both hands, trying to express my feelings with each roll of my hips.

“Tell me about it,” I purred, my mouth hanging open as he started to thrust up in slow, synchronized movements.

Through the heavy panting and strained motions of his muscles, he spoke with a clarity that demonstrated how long he’d thought about his words.

“I just… I’ve never been able to picture a future until the day I met you.”

My heart stopped for a moment before continuing its strong, hard rhythm against the inside of my rib cage. I wanted to see the look on his face, but he had buried his head into my neck and hair. Each inhale seemed so purposeful, reminding me that I smelled of his soap.

I smiled at the way his hands felt just like they had last night, holding themselves back from claiming me with the rough, greedy nature they so often did.

“I can recall any minor detail from any point in the past. I relive them so often, but the future? That was always this terrifying, suffocating concoction of unknowns until that night.”

It almost felt like I was there again, feeling the bass shaking the chair I was sitting in when I kissed him for the very first time. I thought about the compassion in his eyes when he learned the truth about our situation.

Although it had only a few months since then, it felt like a lifetime ago. I couldn’t and didn’t want to remember a life before Spencer Reid.

Once again reading my mind, he stopped laying kisses against my shoulders to hold my face in his hand, stroking my cheek while our bodies continued in their need.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

When he thrust up this time, his eyes shut and his mouth hung open as he pulled our foreheads together. I continued to watch him, watching how his eyebrows furrowed and he tried to focus on remembering this moment more than usual.

“A future with you, huh?” I whispered, my features softening as he struggled to look at me through his own infatuated haze. “It sounds nice.”

He smiled, and I continued before he could take my lips with his own.

“A white picket fence. Two little bratty genius babies.” My attempts to excite him were absolutely working, because with each idea I provided, the urgency with which he pulled me down increased.

“Just a normal, domestic life,” I laughed, my legs beginning to shake as he held me against him with each movement, “with Dr. and Mrs. Reid.”

“Fuck,” he muttered without providing any other answer before pressing his thumb against my puckered lips.

I took it into my mouth quickly, lavishing it with my tongue as much as I could before he removed it. His hand then shot down to where our bodies were joined, beginning to rub my clit in rough, circular strokes.

The trembling that was once contained to my legs spread throughout my entire body, the moans spilling out of my mouth without a care in the world for who might hear. As long as Spencer was enjoying my responses, that’s all that mattered to me.

I wanted him to see the things I could never say. The way I felt whenever I was with him.

“Don’t tempt me, little girl. Keeping talking like that and I’ll steal you away from whatever plans you had.” He spoke in my ear with that low register, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could hardly breathe, and I spent all my energy trying to follow his words.

“Take me.” I urged, feeling the tension in my muscles approaching their breaking point. “Take me, Spencer. Please.”

It was with those words that I felt my body give into him, my muscles gripping him and begging him to join me in my release. But he waited, giving a few more rough, deep thrusts into me.

“Just like a true daddy’s girl.” He chuckled, watching as I came undone, my body eventually going half limp in his arms. “You’re already spoiled rotten.”

My skin was sticky with sweat, and the sounds of our bodies colliding together in the dim morning light continued to overwhelm my senses. He seemed to enjoy the way he could clean me just to dirty me all over again, and I almost made a comment about it, but I couldn’t find the words in time.

Instead, I just whined, “I want more. I want it.”

He didn’t respond with words because he didn’t have to, his broken, shaky thrusts spoke for him. Using both hands to slam my body down against him one last time, he gave a guttural moan against the side of my face.

“It’s all for you, little girl.” He said between breaths. I cried out at the sensation of him filling me, my muscles clutching onto him like a vice, begging him to stay with me until he was completely spent.

He took the offer, pulling my body against his and leaning us back while we caught our breath. Eventually, I was the one to speak, my words suddenly sleepy and disoriented from the emotional toll of our encounter.

“Thank you.”

His chest still rose and fell with his deep breaths, trying to stabilize his heart before he spoke.

“For what?”

“Loving me.”

That look on his face was back; the one that begged me not to say the words back to him. I hated it. I wanted to tell him the truth, and now felt like such a perfect moment. But at the same time, I understood why he didn’t want it associated with sex.

‘Right now you just think that because your body is coursing with endorphins and adrenaline,’ I could hear him saying, ‘Once that goes away, you might find you feel differently about me.’

But it wasn’t true. I would feel this way about him forever. I already knew that with every fiber of my being. Then again, there was no point in arguing with him.

I would just continue to show him however I could, through loads of laundry and sleepy kisses. My ‘I love you’s would be subtly explaining who got what side of the bed and whether our children would look more like me or him.

At least for now. Until he decided he was ready, or until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I really hoped it would be the former.

—————————————————

| Part 13 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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heresathreebee · 4 years ago

Text

Brackish and Briny Waters (two)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Settling into your new house Part 1 Masterlist Part 3

Tags: +17 | 1.7k words | just really fucking domestic stuff, one (1) bad attitude, presumptuous behavior, unprotected morning sex, more remodeling.

AN: I kind of know where I'm going with this. The conflict will be subtle at first but it's there I promise.

The first day goes by fast and for Ralph meeting every single person on staff in this prestigious school was like trying cheeses and wines in a vineyard– fun at first but you get a stomach ache because somebody forgot to tell you not to swallow and there are just so many of them each more rich than the last. By the time he crosses the threshold to his new home, he's exhausted and annoyed.

"I told you not to unpack without me."

You look at him from the kitchen and shrug. "I needed stuff, baby. I already wrote a list of things to work on in this 'bare bones' house you put us up in and I was bored."

You don't care for his attitude but offer him the covered plate anyways. "I saved you some dinner."

All at once, Ralphie's anger melted from his face. He shuffled his tired feet across the still empty living room and pulled you into his side. The plate was warm (still warm or recently warmed up, he couldn't tell) and his stomach growled.

"M sorry," he said, "I don't mean to be an asshole."

You smile your forgiveness. "Long day?"

"Yes," he hisses. "I already can't wait for the weekend."

You chuckle. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad. Give it a chance, baby!"

"As you wish."

After eating, Ralph is right to sleep despite his insistence you finish packing together tonight. A part of you thinks it's the climate here– fresh sea salt air and less artificial light to disrupt the body's natural sleep patterns. You took off his shoes and empty his pockets because he was just 'resting his eyes for a moment,' then slid in right next to him. He's fine without a blanket, but you pull the back of the quilt over your rear and curl into his side. Sleep comes easier tonight than last night and you dream of wallpaper and wood smoke cologne.

DAY THREE

The rest of the week gets easier for the both of you. You arrived on Monday and unpack the bigger furniture together by Wednesday with the help of some locals. Ralph is getting to study the lesson plan for Ms. Lewis' math class and establishing a gentle authority with his temporary students. He is still excited for the weekend, intent to help you figure out what to do with the walls of the house.

"Has anybody come to see you at the house yet?," he asks you Thursday night.

You pause dicing onions to think. "Besides the neighbors to the north and those Vayle boys? No."

Ralphie raises his eyebrows and drops them, an involuntary gesture made more for himself than you.

You put a hand on your hip. "Why?"

Ralphie waves you off and continues mixing the meat with the spices. "Nothing. It's just everybody and their fucking moms has been asking me about you."

"What?" This was news to you. "Why?"

"Because they're nosy," he replies, "asking me about my whole life story and I let slip I had a wife and then they just wouldn't shut up about it."

You swat his shoulder. "Well don't sound so depressed about it. Do you not like having a wife?"

"No!" Ralph huffs and turns to look at you as he says, "I just hate that every single one of them bugs me about a million personal things and then I mention you and it's the only thing they can talk about now."

Ralph turns back to stirring the pan and grumbles to himself, "might tell them to fuck off and just hoard you forever…"

It clicks in your head at least a bit. Ralph's a born and bred city kid. In the city nobody cares who you are, what you like, or where you're from. Strangers don't want to be anything more than strangers. Their eternal social motto is 'don't waste my time' and anyone who acts differently is probably scheming something.

You chuckle and rest your chin on his shoulder. "You're forgetting these are a different breed of people. Rich and educated socialites more over but suburban, maybe even rural. We're probably the first new thing to happen to them in decades, and communities like this don't have a 'mind your business and I'll mind mine' attitude."

Ralphie flicks you a look but you know he knows you're right. It doesn't mean he has to like it but at least he understands it's not malicious, at least not inherently. It's out of his element, a little out of yours too, but you'll have to adapt and play by their rules if you want to stay here for a while.

The dining room table can seat six, but your Ralphie takes a seat right next to you at a corner so he can hold your hand while you eat. Homemade tacos ease your apprehensions a bit and you go over the remodeling plans with him until midnight. Getting ready to sleep, you wear your thinnest shift and wrap around him like an octopus, your warm core brushing over his barely clothed manhood in temptation.

Ralphie hums, tucking a stray hair back into your bonnet. "We need to get up early tomorrow."

It's a weak protest. The two of you keep rocking into each other and sighing at the feeling of friction but eventually fall asleep despite the delightful buzz of sexual energy surrounding you. You do wake up when Ralph flips you under him and sucks a few marks into your neck.

You spread your legs to accommodate his breadth, feeling him settle deliciously and glancing at the bedside clock. It's barely 5 o' clock and the sun is rising. You gasp as you feel Ralphie's cock slide into you and he's met with little resistance. You two have sex for the first time since you moved and it's been so long that the affair is short lived.

Ralph already has an apology on his lips but you shush him and come a moment later with your fingers brushing your clit in tandem. He peppers you with a dozen more kisses as silent promises to make it up to you.

You shower together, barely bumping elbows as this bathroom is way bigger than your New York City apartment ever was. You chat idly about the weekend and the town and when you're ready to leave, you grab the manila folder where you store the plans for the remodel. You've even got samples from the wallpaper, only taking the ones you like and want to replace.

"I know we probably won't find exact replicas but I want to at least find something similar."

Ralph squeezes your thigh. "Ok, ok. We'll try."

While this town doesn't have a McDonald's (the town over does and it's fancy for some reason), it does have a Home Depot (also pretty fancy). You know you'll need wood and screws and glass panes to finish that solar room but that's not the goal for today.

Ralph skips right over the green paint swatch section to the creams. He's rambling about paint brand pros and cons, he did his research on the way in since you were driving and he brought the book from the school library. You follow and half listen.

"What?"

Ralph finally catches on to your soft smile. You glance around to make sure no one is in earshot because god forbid these gossipers over hear your conversation right now.

"I guess I got you pretty excited last night, huh," you say with a sense of pride. Ralph feels the opposite about his performance this morning.

"I just… I think it's just been a while." He occupies his hands by grabbing every single free swatch sample on the shelf and says, "I promise I will make it up to you."

You roll your eyes in a not unkind way. "It's fine, babe, really. I uh… it feels kind of good to know I still have that kind of effect on you…"

Ralphie sports a smile of his own and puts you under his arm. "Of course you do, sugar."

He leans down to plant a kiss on your lips when you're interrupted by a bright voice. It's so startling that your husband bounces away from you. He stares wide eyed at the woman who interrupted you and he gets that dark look in his eye that only you can see.

"Jesus, Julie," he tries his best not to growl her name. "This is Julie, she's a teacher at the school. Julie this… is… my wife."

Julie makes a noise like a whistle. "Oh my god you are so much more beautiful than I imagined! Ralph doesn't have a picture of you in his office!"

"It's on my desk," he huffs, "it's the one turned towards me."

"And why would you do that?"

"...so I can look at it while I work…?"

Julie's… a little too hands on for just meeting you. You're too reserved to say something about it so you sling a loose arm around her back and hope Ralph doesn't say something for you.

"Hi Julie, it's nice to finally meet you," you tell her. "Ralph's been slowly but surely introducing me to the concept of his coworkers."

"I can't believe we haven't met before now! Ralph keeping you all to himself, me and the other teachers are just so curious about you," she coos. It feels almost put on, like overindulging in sweet to play up her first impression. You let it slide though, maybe it's just your city lens.

"Well, uh, once we've got the house fixed up a bit, we can plan a housewarming party," you suggest. "But not a day before and you may quote me on that, miss!"

Julie laughed and gave you her phone number 'in case you need anything at all.' Ralph breathed easy once she finally left and you tug his ear gently. "She's veeerry friendly."

Ralphie shoots you a glare like you'd made a joke he didn't find funny and you go back to debating the paint to use for your walls eagerly.

@escape-your-grape @hoodoo12 @softbeej @go-commander-kim @beetlesstuff @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

#three bees writing #smut #🐝🐝🐝✒#Ralph Lamont #ralph lamont x reader #alex brightman #black reader insert

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

first blood

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: angst, general asshole-ness.

word count: 4.6k

description: part 3 of 5. how did you become ransom’s glorified babysitter? and why the fuck are you keeping this job? who knows. you hate it, you hate him, but... the money.

note: tumblr is being super shitty rn so I can only post on mobile, but I really wanted to get this off my desk! will add a read more and properly link later 💕

prequel to the assistant && four christmases, spoiler free loves.

You have to do this.

You don’t think your eyes will ever feel normal again. They were dry and scratchy. There were no more tears to shed. You’d buried your Mom two months ago, but you didn’t know how it would ever feel okay. She did everything for you and Julia. Everything. She worked hard, made pretty good money, allowed you to have a part time job and just focus on school. Julia was in this really nice private school, she played the cello now for fucks sake. She had friends and was talking about maybe starting soccer soon, but after funeral costs and your sister’s tuition the life insurance money was running out.

You had to sell the house.

You’d moved the two of you into a small apartment right outside of Chinatown. Not the safest area, but not the most unsafe either. You’d be fine. You had each other, and she needed you to do this. You had to do this.

For her.

You sat uncomfortably in the cheap office chair, sitting across from a woman with too many papers on her desk, everything sloppily arranged around a couple of potted succulents and a framed picture of her and her three kids, no spouse.

“So your last job was in tutoring?” She asked you. You shifted nervously in your seat, nodding your head,

“Yeah, I tutored a high school student in English and Math.” You needed some water. The cheap pencil skirt and blouse you were wearing made your skin itch. She types into her computer some more.

“So why are you here?” She asked, “Why not continue tutoring?” A few more clicks and then more typing.

“The family I worked for paid me pretty well,” You admitted, “But she’s graduating this year and they didn’t need me anymore, I don’t really,” You cleared your throat, “I don’t really have much job experience outside of that and I need to start making money now… I’ve put out job applications but haven’t really gotten any luck.” Not with the income you needed anyway. The woman nodded. The plaque on her desk said her name is Stacy Chandler.

“Alright, here you are.” A printed page, address, date, and time. A job. Clerical work. Data entry. You have to do this...

“How was your last day of school?” Julia sat heavily at the kitchen table, backpack slumped on the floor next to her. She buried her face in her arms.

“I’m never going again.” Came muffled from her mouth. She lifted her head to look at you. The beginnings of puberty. You’d recently gone bra shopping for the first time. Real ones, no more training bras. You’d recently taken her to the dermatologist for her acne, but she’s not good at remembering to put on the expensive creams you bought. What a hard time. You don’t envy her.

“Luckily for you,” You smiled, placing a fudgy brownie in front of her, “You don’t have to go back for three whole months!” She rolled her eyes heavily, taking the brownie and disappearing into her room presumably to sit on her computer until dinner.

She was feeling the absence of your Mother just as you were. You weren’t sure what to do here. You loved your sister and you know she loves you too, but in the last few months it’s just been closed doors and a few parting sentences. Only because you had to work so much. Only because she spent a lot of time at friend’s houses where you’d think she would feel normal for a while. It would help ease the burden of being in your mid-twenties and suddenly feeling like a single mother. Of course you can sleep over at Mila’s house, her family is going to their cabin for the weekend of course you can go!

You didn’t know what to do other than keeping her in school and alive. You weren’t ready for this. But the only other option was your estranged aunt who reeked of mothballs and was constantly asking you if you were married, or dating, or ‘You’re Mother wouldn’t have wanted this’. No. It was very clear that your Mom wanted the two of you to stay together, and that’s how it’s going to be.

This summer she was going to spend with her friend Mila at their family’s lake house. Mila’s mother was a stay at home mom with six kids under the age of 12 and would be planning to spend the summer pintresting activities and projects with them while simultaneously getting out of her stuffy-old 10 bedroom, 8 bathroom mansion. Lucky her. Lucky Julia.

The apartment would be empty without the 12-year-old pre-teen for three months, but Julia has really been looking forward to it. Her bags were packed and ready by the door.

You hugged her tightly in front of Mila’s house, burying your face in her hair, partially not wanting her to go, but otherwise knowing that she’s going to have a better time than you could ever provide her. “Okay, you can let me go now.” She shifted in your arms, trying to pull away.

“Just another minute.” You mumbled, pulling her in tighter. “I’m gonna miss you.” She laughed,

“I’m gonna miss you too.” The two of you pulled apart and you tucked her hair behind her ears, cupping her sweet face.

“I love you,” You said very seriously, “If you ever want to come home just-”

“I’ll let you know.” She was getting impatient, the car Mila’s mom was taking to the lake house, a beautifully large black Range Rover sat packed next to you, they were waiting. “I love you too.” She slowly backed away towards the car.

“If she gets homesick, my husband still comes back every week for work so he can bring her home if need be,” Andrea was her name, Mila’s Mom. “She’ll be fine.” Andy was really nice. She made a lot of the food the two of you had eaten in the early days after your Mom’s death. Her gentle reassurance soothed you slightly. It made driving away a little easier, but it didn’t stop the tears that fell as you entered your apartment, alone. For the first time in a while. You didn’t have to hold it in anymore.

You sunk down against your front door, staring out into your living room, tears rolling down your cheeks in the silence of the home. Dirty shoes lined up against the wall, throw blanket hanging halfway off the couch, dirty dishes from breakfast still in the sink, and somewhere you’re sure under all of it was the will to pick yourself back up.

You just didn’t know if you were ready for that quite yet.

But you did it anyway.

More clerical work. More data entry. More bills going half paid and others being ignored all together. Student loans you didn’t even want to think about from a school where you hadn’t even graduated. Medical bills you didn’t even know where to begin paying back, itchy stockings, and uncomfortable shoes. With every day that passed you reexamined your life. How did you get here?

A new job, a new office. Temp assigned, but you knew who worked here. The building that housed it stood tall against the Boston skyline. Contemporary. You sat comfortably in a cushy office chair. The plaque on the desk read Linda Drysdale, CEO. And you waited.

You hadn’t seen the Thrombey’s, let alone the Drysdale branch of the family, for five months. Zero contact. Joni had talked to you last, thanking you for helping Meg, but also trying to sell you eye cream. “You really should invest in taking better care of yourself.” Which was her kind way of trying to tell you that you look old. Thanks.

You couldn’t imagine what Linda would want you for. You’d been doing some filing, they were transferring all of their documents to digital and hired extra help to do so, you were one of three hired from your particular temp agency, but yesterday she had called you personally and asked you to come in for an appointment today at 3 pm. And here you are.

Waiting.

There was a portrait of her family on the wall. Linda herself sitting in a high backed intricate chair, her husband Richard standing to her right, and to her left was her son, Hugh. He went by his middle name Ransom. They were stone faced, serious looking. This painting seemed ridiculous. If you didn’t know the Thrombey’s you’d think it was there to be ironic, as a joke, a play on what rich families were like.

But they were a rich family, and this is what they were like.

Linda was self-serving. She only ever talked to you when it suited her own interests and as soon as she was satisfied she would quickly direct her attention somewhere else, to someone more important. She used you to get what she wanted and when you served her purpose you were gone. She had no time for anyone, only her father. Anything for Harlan.

Richard was a predator. He was always making an uncomfortable comment about either your body or your face. He stood uncomfortably close at times and liked to settle a hand on the small of your back. He was a well kept man, throwing his wife’s money around like it was his own. He kept a money clip of hundreds in his pocket.

Ransom was a piece of shit. He was a self-centered egotistical asshole who was sure to make your life a living hell every time he saw you. There was always a comment, a jab at your clothes, your hair, the fact that you are poor. He once ‘accidentally’ threw your cardigan away because, “I thought it was one of those fucking rags you dust with, I didn’t want it touching my burberry.” He, like his father, felt predatory. Something about being a rich white man just really got them going, and the money clip with the hundreds… a learned habit.

“Alright,” Linda’s voice came from the doorway, you turned slightly in your seat. She was on the phone, “Well we will send Michael out to show them the properties instead, I’m sure we’ll find something they like.” She gave you a finger, hold on, even though you’d been sitting here patiently waiting for her for close to twenty minutes now. “Okay,” She continued, “Sounds good.” Sitting down in her chair, tapping a few keys to illuminate her computer screen. “Alright now, bye-bye.” She took her phone from her ear, looking down at the screen before placing it face down on the desk and smiling at you.

You knew that smile. She wanted something.

“So, Y/N right?” You nodded, “I see you’re looking for work.”

“Well, I’m with a temp agency right now but-”

“Would you like something a little more permanent?” A permanent job? The Thrombey’s had paid you very well to tutor Meg, better than you were making now. Granted you had only worked 15 hours a week when you were tutoring her, so $20 an hour didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but if they were looking for something, anything full time…

“Absolutely,” You smiled, shifting in your seat, “I’ve had trouble being hired because my-”

“Okay so you’re going to need Ransom’s number, and you’ll start tomorrow.” Your smile dropped.

“Ransom needs a tutor?” You asked skeptically. She laughed.

“No, he needs an assistant.” She gestured towards herself, “I can’t keep telling him when or where to be for family events and he has a fairly active social life so I’m gifting him an assistant for his birthday.” Oh.

“I uhm,” You really didn’t want to work for Ransom. You REALLY didn’t want to work for Ransom. “How much would it…?” You trailed off nervously.

“My father paid you $20 an hour to tutor Meg, yes?” She asked, typing something into her computer, no longer looking at you.

“Yes, he did.” You moved trying to see what she was typing without bringing too much attention to it. She was drafting an email.

“So I’ll pay you the same. Ransom will set hours for you and decide what days of the week he’ll need you and what else he wants you to do,” She waved her hand dismissively, “Cleaning, cooking, whatever.” She scribbled on a post-it before peeling and handing it to you. “Here’s his number and address, you can go over the particulars of your job tomorrow morning.” You opened your mouth to speak again, ask her the million and one questions you have but before you could say anything she dismissed you, “That is all.” She said. And she was done with you.

She got what she wanted. And now she wanted you to leave.

So you did.

“Well,” He grinned, “Linda really scooped you up from the bottom of the barrel, huh?” You stood on Ransom’s front porch. The only texts you sent and received last night were ‘What time do you need me to be there?’ and an hour later the reply of ‘11’. The scumbag was standing in the doorway, leant against the frame, looking down on you. In more than one way.

“Can I come in?” You asked. You really didn’t want to do this. But a $12 an hour temp job versus $20 hour stability… hard to beat. He smirked, pushing off the frame before looking you up and down, turning to disappear into the house.

“Take off your shoes.” What a fucking joke. His house was a mess. Clothes thrown haphazardly around, a pile of dishes not in the sink, but on the counter. Abandoned cups, tv was rolling on in the background, some political documentary. The house, while contemporary and clean, well kept on the outside. The inside looked like a frat house during rush week. You didn’t want to take off your shoes in fear that you’d step in vomit or something worse.

He grinned off to the side, “Had some people over last night.” He explained, drinking what looked like orange juice from a coffee mug. The vodka bottle that was capless on the counter led you to believe that orange juice wasn’t the only thing in the cup. “You can start by cleaning up.” He gestured around, sinking back down into the sofa. “I’m sure I’ll think of something else you can do when you’re done.” The fucking prick.

You shut the door a little heavier than intended, slipping your sneakers off and placing them by the door. “You’ve got a laundry room?” You asked, he didn’t look away from the television,

“Basement.” And he was done with you too. The tone was very, don’t talk to me. Which honestly you were grateful for.

You cleaned up his messes, the red solo cups that littered almost every surface in every room, laundry was running in the basement, dishwasher working hard to sanitize the first round of plates and cups that could fit, the others waiting patiently in the sink as you wipe counters and dusted picture frames, the thick film of unappreciation. He didn’t care about his house, his furniture, the art that cost more than your apartment that lined his walls. His clothes, while having an extensive closet, some were threadbare and with holes.

He didn’t care.

And it made you angry.

You thought of the furniture you were able to keep from your Mother’s house, well oiled and kept. No scratches. The fabrics of the couches and chairs carefully cleaned and maintained.

His sheets were stained and you were unsure when the last time he had washed them actually was. The dampness made you gag. It wasn’t long before you were cleaning under his feet. His ankles crossed and feet resting on the coffee table as you straightened the area around him. You felt his eyes on you, briefly, but ignored it.

“Do you have any real clothes?” He asked suddenly. He stood from the sofa, rounding it to pull the vodka bottle back out from the cabinet you’d placed it in, pouring heavily into the coffee mug before leaving the bottle and the orange juice carton he followed with next to it.

“These are real clothes.” You stated, coming behind him to put the items away. He scoffed,

“I’m important,” He claimed, “I go to parties, events.” He took a large mouthful of the screwdriver he’d just made, “You can’t wear clothes like that if you’re gonna be babysitting me the whole time.” You rolled your eyes,

“I don’t have to go. You set my hours, I don’t-”

“As much as I love the whole, ‘I’m poor and don’t care what I look like’, thing you have going on,” Ransom laughed, “You’re gonna be around me, and as a reflection of me, you need to look presentable.” He gestured to the demin shorts a t-shirt you were currently wearing, mismatched socks on your feet. You felt your face flush. “And slap a little makeup on.” You rolled your eyes at that. Fucking dick. He smirked when you didn’t reply, turning back around to leave you and disappeared upstairs.

He didn’t come down for a while. In that time you’d finished cleaning the living area, the house looking a complete 180 from where it had been when you’d originally entered, it was nearing dinner time. Your stomach was growling and you’d realized you had been cleaning for five hours without stopping.

You didn’t get to enjoy the sense of accomplishment because Ransom came down the stairs not a moment later, dressed for his evening. If you didn’t hate him so much you’d drool. He looked good. Patterned slacks, chelsea boots, a lightweight white button down, blazer over one arm. “Let’s go.” He said, not stopping on his way towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” You felt gross, covered in grime from cleaning, sweat dried on your skin you knew you probably didn’t smell amazing, hair frizzed up in a bun. He didn’t answer you, continuing outside. You sighed heavily, throwing the pair of socks you’d just matched back into the laundry basket before slipping your shoes on and following him outside.

“C’mon!” He yelled from the front seat of his beamer, sunglasses on his nose, he was annoyed with you. Whatever. You sat heavily in his passenger seat, the dickwad not even giving you time to close the door before he was speeding down the driveway.

“Where are we going?” You asked again. One hand on the wheel, the other’s fingertips brushing against his lower lip he looked at you from behind his sunglasses.

“To dinner.” He smirked, looking back towards the road as you merged onto the interstate.

He was a fucking asshole. If you hadn’t thought he was before you definitely knew now. You were surprised the hostess even let you into this place. It was expensive, and you were very, very underdressed. Point taken Ransom. Thank you. Fucking prick.

He took glances at you ever so often, seated a few feet away from him at the long banquet style table that housed all of his ‘friends.’ Gorgeous women and equally as gorgeous men who had money to burn. You weren’t sure any of these people have ever worked a day in their life, much like Ransom himself. You’d met a few of them before, briefly, when Ransom would show up and ask Harlan for money before disappearing for a week, one or two of them would be in tow bragging about going on some guy’s yacht or flying out to some private island.

Regardless, they weren’t talking to you. You were a strange interloper, easily ignored, but only after a few poked fun at the stray dog at Ransom’s heels. It only stung a little bit when he laughed with them. You were wildly uncomfortable. You poked at your deconstructed salad, the little bits lined neatly up on the plate, a smear of salad dressing beside it. This menu was ridiculous. Why were you here again? You were so hungry and this was not your speed at all. Ransom’s booming laugh met your ears and you could feel the anger rising in your chest.

Fucking asshole. You hoped he would choke on one of the olives in his martini. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked. He fucking smirked, cheersing you with his martini before it met his lips again. You could kill him right now.

The money.

Technically you were still working. As the sun set behind the horizon. You’d been at work, technically, for about 10 hours. That’s $200. Okay, you can do this. You can do this.

You know he did this to embarass you. He made it clear when you’d pull up to the restaurant to give you a taunting look. Whether the dinner was already planned or he had planned it after the conversation about clothes and makeup earlier was anyone’s guess. You had the feeling it was the latter.

He’d paid the bill after all.

The entirety of it.

You’d wished you’d ordered more.

Afterward a giggling girl took your place in the front seat, you glared at the back of her head from the back seat,

“Ransom.” She whined, leaning over in her seat to press her lips to his neck, “I want you to fuck me.” Lips around his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth. You shifted your gaze to the window, the city landscape passing your eyes as you’d pulled into another valet parking, a bar this time. A nice one.

Ransom and the bubbly girl from the car ride over slipped hastily into the bathroom, he’d sent you a dark look before leaving you to your own devices. Looking over the cocktail list while sitting uncomfortably on a bar stool while your boss was fucking a girl who’d laughed at you for being a ‘dog’ earlier in the bathroom of a bar that had a $20 old fashioned and their most expensive wine came with a thousand dollar price tag.

“You lost?” Another smirking asshole, sidled up next to you at the bar as you took a sip from the beautifully balanced old fashioned you’d tacked onto Ransom’s tab. He was handsome, the guy bothering you, almost everyone in this room was handsome. The lights low and romantic, candles on every table and across the bar, soft music played from the piano across the room where a man sat gently stroking the melodies to create the ambiance of the room. Close, cozy, romantic, and dark enough to forget yourself in.

“Oh c’mon honey.” The man slipped onto the barstool, thighs spread wide around you as you face away from him, his hand meeting your back. “I can help you find what you’re looking for.” His breath reeked of alcohol. You glanced over at him,

“I’m fine thank you.” Another sip, damn this drink was good. He chuckled, moving in closer, drifting a hand down to your thigh.

“Don’t be like that.” He laughed, “You obviously don’t belong here honey.” His hand traced your bare thigh, “You’ve gotta be wanting some company.”

Ransom had returned face flushed and you could almost see a tiny bit of white on his nose, but it was quickly rubbed away. He sat on the opposite end of the bar, the girl from earlier taking his lap. He looked down at you briefly, he had to have seen how uncomfortable you were, how this guy was breathing down your neck. He ignored it, ordering a drink from the bartender.

“I don’t want any company,” You shoved the man’s hand away, “Have a great night.” He leaned back in his seat, downing his drink before leaning back over to put his face in yours.

“Fucking ugly bitch.” He spat, standing from the stool, “Tryna give you a little charity here, you could've at least been grateful.” You wanted to leave. He shoved your shoulder slightly as he walked away from you, no doubt going to bother some other unsuspecting woman in his radius.

You needed some air, taking the last sip of your drink you’d scooted back from the bar, walking by Ransom to take your exit, walking out into the summer night. It was early summer. It was still only 60 at night. A chill went through you. You hadn’t expected to be out so late, the comfortable denim shorts and old ratty t shirt you’d chosen to wear had obviously been a mistake for this day. Ransom made sure to make you see that.

The bar was on the harbor, and it brought in a breeze that caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You checked your phone, the battery almost dead. Julia had been texting you periodically, but not as much as you would have liked. You scrolled through the most recent messages, you asking how her trip was going and what she was up to and her stilted replies. She was busy you supposed. She didn’t need you, but right now you really needed her.

This night has been a massive blow to your self-esteem. You’d never felt more ugly and unwanted in your life. You just wanted to go home, but Ransom wasn’t done yet. You looked at him from the window, his fingers were gone between that girl’s thighs, they were both drinking expensive cocktails, completely oblivious to you.

He’d watched you exit, not giving it much thought it seemed, because he hadn’t made any motion to bring the night to a close, but you weren’t really expecting him to. It was Ransom’s world and you were just living in it. You worked for him. And you wondered if this is how every day is going to be from here on out. You really don’t know if you could do this forever, but you knew you didn’t want to go back inside.

So you didn’t.

Thankfully Ransom stumbled out about thirty minutes later, girl from earlier on his arm. “Let’s go.” He said. Valet pulling the beamer around he threw you the keys, “Take me home.”

He sunk down in the back seat, high and drunk. His words almost incoherent. Her’s were no better. They sloppily attacked each other in the back seat, indecently. And you were pointedly looking anywhere but in the rearview. Soft grunts and moans made you uncomfortable for the fourth time that night. Your skin crawling in unease as the girl’s giggles turned into breathy moans. Your foot sunk against the gas pedal in hopes you’d get back to his home faster, tears welling up in your eyes. The cry on the way home was going to be so good. So cathartic.

The gravel crunching against the wheels of the car was a sweet relief, so was the haste in which you left the keys in the car, running and skipped to your own car. His eyes met yours through the darkness as he was leant up against his car door, slacks loose around his hips, the girl’s lips attached to his neck as her hand worked quickly between his thighs. He smirked, waving a sarcastic ‘good-bye’. You turned your eyes to the road, cranking up the radio as you began to cry.

You didn’t want to do this anymore.

A text came through right as you finally laid down in your own bed, snuggling into the covers, ready to forget the night.

See you at 9.

taglist // @littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @Diedrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah @sleepycvpid @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @starlywars @gifsbysimplysonia @rocknbasil @imnotelasticheart @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa @steviemae @bemysugarbean @truefangirlheart @babiiface95 @mydarlingharry @elzzin @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #chris evans

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dragons-socks · 4 years ago

Text

Baby Bumblebee chaptr 5

Bumblebee awoke in a strange house, on a strange bed. He scrambled up, trying to ignore his pounding head. It wasn’t until he noticed Sam passed out in his desk chair that he realized that this was Sam’s room.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Mikaela said, placing a hand on Bee’s shoulder and pushing him back down. “You’ve got a lot of people worried for you, Bee.”

Bee brought up his hands to sign his apologies, but stopped. They were wrapped up in white gauze. He studied them, trying to remember when he’d hurt them. The energy-blasts from last night hadn’t hurt. His hands should be fine, right?

“When Sam called Captain Lennox, he was still asleep, and hadn't even realized you had left. Do you know how bad he would have felt if Sam and I hadn’t woken up and you were just taken by the Cons?” She asked, voice hard and unmoving. Bee flinched away. “You know Ironhide will most likely just drive you to us even if Lennox isn’t there. He did it last week. So why isn’t Ironhide with you?”

‘Didn’t want to come here.’ Bee signed in stiff, aching movements.

“What do you mean?” Sam’s asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Instead of easing the tense atmosphere, he just added to it.

‘Wanted to go home.’ Bee said.

“You were already home, I don’t-” Mikaela put a hand up to stop her boyfriend.

“You wanted to go to Optimus? Lennox told you about their base-switching.” She asked. Bee nodded, looking up at the ceiling so he didn’t have to look at either of them.

“Stop it, Bee.” Sam sounded as tired as Bee felt. He sounded as if an age old ache finally settled completely into his bones, locking into place. “Optimus has already made his decision. He doesn’t want you near him or the other Autobots in this form. At least when you’re this small.”

“Sam!” Mikaela yelled, smacking her boyfriend over the head.

“What? He needs to hear it. He won’t stop chasing the Autobots until its said.” Sam defended.

“You could have said it with a lighter touch.”

“We’ve been trying to do that for a month, and look at where that got us? Bee ran away from the captain and almost got kidnapped by Decepticons.” Bee wanted the bed to collapse in half and eat him whole as the teen couple started to yell over him as if he weren’t in the room. He felt his eyes well up with tears as frustrations lodged in the middle of his throat, too thick to swallow.

Bee tried to get their attention after a while, but they were in their own world at this point. It wasn’t until Lennox slammed the door open that the teens stopped arguing. Lennox didn’t stop walking until Bee was in his arms.

“We’re getting you a phone, and a tracker. And you are so grounded.” Lennox didn’t sound angry, though. He sounded like he was about to cry, which for some reason had the floodgates on Bee burst.

“You know, for a being who didn’t have actual tear ducts for most of their life, Bee sure does cry a lot.” Sam laughed, only to punch in the stomach by Mikaela. “Ow.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“I’m not comfortable with overly emotional situations.” Sam bemoaned.

“What happened to his hands?” Lennox asked, holding Bee’s hands in his own to inspect the bandages. Bee sat there looking disgruntled, but didn’t pull away.

Sam and Mikaela stumbled over each other as they tried to explain what happened from when they arrived. About the energon beam that shot from Bee’s hands. Lennox turned to Bee, who shrugged, just as new to this situation as the rest of them.

“An energon blast?” Lennox whistled, still not letting Bee from his side. He looked down at the soft blonde locks and piercing blue eyes that peered up at him. “How is that even possible?”

“Your guess is as good as ours.” Sam sunk back down in his desk chair. Bumblebee shuffled his hands out of Lennox’s grasp. He had a theory.

‘Breakdown said something about an energon signal emitting from me.’ Bee winced as his wounds pulled on some of the signs.

“If Bee is still emitting a signal like a Cybertronian, then that means he’s in trouble. Like real big trouble.” Sam realizes.

“And with Prime and his team having just cut ties its going to be a while before we reform contact with them.” Lennox rubbed at his temple.

“So what do we do?”

___________

“Hey, Bumblebee!” Raven ran up to Bee. “Why didn’t you go to school yesterday? And what happened to your hands? Can you sign now? Does it hurt?”

‘Hey, Raven.’ Bee signed.

“That was my name again, right?” Bee nodded. Raven smile grew wider. He lifted his hand in the sign for ‘F’ tapped his cheek and quickly pushed away. Bee was startled at the sign. It was the sign for ‘bee’, And also how Lennox, Sarah, Sam, and Mikaela have been signing his own name. If they remembered to sign as they talk. Not that they had to, because he wasn’t deaf, but it was good practice for them to understand him better. “My neighbor’s grandson is deaf so my mom said I could ask him to teach me how to sign so we can talk! He said that was how to say bee.”

Bumblebee nodded. He finger-spelt his name and then did the sign for ‘bee’, then he finger-spelt Raven’s name and did the sign for ‘Crow’, which was basically just signing ‘black bird’.

“That’s so cool! That’s all I know, but I super promise I’m going to learn all of it so we can actually talk!” Raven pumped his fist in the air.

‘You do that.’ Bee signed, nodding his head. He couldn’t get the smile off face. Raven was just so nice to him.

“So, why were you not at school?” Raven settled down.

Bee pulled out the small cellphone Lennox had bought for him yesterday. Raven gasped, going on another excited babble about the device and how cool it was that he had one even though he wasn’t in even in middle school. Bee mostly ignored his friend as he carefully typed out his explanation. He didn’t have to pass the phone over to Raven, who just read it over his shoulders as Bee typed.

“Oh, is Lennox your dad?” Raven asked. Bee gave a shrug, but then nodded. “You should just call him ‘dad’ then. It had less letters so it’d be easier to sign too.”

Bee shrugged. He didn’t see why he couldn’t do it.

“So you ran away two nights ago and some bad people tried to kidnap you and your dad wouldn’t let you go back to school before you got an actual way to contact him in case of emergencies and also signed you up for self defense classes and like martial arts and stuff?”

Bee shook his phone in Raven’s face. That’s what he just wrote out, so yeah, it’s what happened.

“Why did you run away?” Raven asked.

‘Complicated.’ Bee typed.

“I ran away once. My mom wouldn’t let me watch cartoons. I had to go home when it got dark though and when I did she grounded me and wouldn’t let me watch cartoons for even longer.” Raven shook his head. Bee decided to keep his thoughts to himself. For some reason there were times when it was harder to remember that he was actually ten thousand years older than everyone on this planet. And then there were times like these. “So what happened to your hands?”

Bee mimicked falling and scraping his hands on the ground. Raven went on another word dump of how he fell and scraped his knee so bad he had to get stitches. Back and forth they went. Raven asking a question, Bee answering in a few short words and then Raven going on for five minutes before the cycle commences. It was nice to be honest.

The school day continued. And like all the other days, Bee was bored. He knew how to speak English and he knew that the internet could answer all of these questions for him if he needed to look up what region the rocky mountains were located in America. He’s had to do it before. Math class was cool. He’s seen Ratchet and Wheeljack make cool things out of just strings of numbers.

His favorite class was after lunch. Technically, everyday they cycled through a few different subjects. Spanish was extra boring, because he couldn’t really participate because most of the class was talking and that was kind of hard when a giant mech rips out your vocal chords. Gym was fun, but no one wanted to be partners or on teams with the weird mute kid. Art was - it wasn’t his thing.

His favorite class was music. He didn’t care for the recorder he had to learn to use, but he did like when the teacher brought out his guitar. It looked so cool. He wanted to learn how to play that.

Bee found himself climbing into Ironhide after the last bell. Lennox waved at one of the teachers that were standing watch and pulled away, but not to the direction of their house. Bee sunk further into his seat, letting out a series of sighs and whines. He had thought Lennox was joking about signing him up for some human self defense/fighting classes.

“It’s for your own good. Ironhide is trying to get in contact with Optimus now to see what we should do, but its not going well. I don’t think you want to be shackled with a bodyguard for the rest of your life, and I don’t want to have to worry every time you leave the house.” If Epps or any of his men found out how much he’s been outright mothering Bee, Lennox would be teased for the rest of his days. That didn’t stop the jack hammering of his heart when he thinks about Bumblebee, his kid, getting captured by the decepticons.

“Chin up, kid. I’ll be sure to mention to Lennox’s crew that he’s a mother hen.” Ironhide promised.

“Saws the one who did the search for ‘the perfect gym’.” Lennox flicked the steering wheel. Ironhide slammed the driver’s seat back in retaliation. Bee couldn’t help but laugh as the human tried to fight the autobot. Which got the attention of both and they formed an alliance against the kid.

Bumblebee scrambled into the back seats of Ironhide, kicking Lennox away as the man came for him. He tucked himself in the corner right behind the driver seat, thinking himself safe. Only for the seat to slam back again.

They pulled into the gym not too long after.

#human bumblebee #transformers #bumblebee #william lennox

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brainlessacademia · 4 years ago

Text

Interesting...

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

~fluff~

Word Count: about 2k

Note: hey y'all this is my first ever writing. Please tell me what yall think and what suggestions you have. thanks!.

You hated school

Well mostly you hated English and how difficult it was.

But what definitely didn’t make it any easier was having him as your partner for your classes’ poetry project.

Right when you heard that you two would be partners you couldn’t be more annoyed.

Bakugo seemed to have his same bothered expression on but with a little something else, you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Now you weren’t going to lie.. you did find him attractive. But you knew he wouldn’t go for you. He didn’t seem to reciprocate any kind of feelings. You weren’t even sure he knew your name. What also got you was-

“Hey”

His voice snapped you out of your daydream and brought you back to reality. Which was that you were working together in the library.

You suddenly felt super embarrassed and tried to hide your face from getting red but you don’t think it actually worked.

“Yeah?”, you replied as if you’d been paying attention the whole time.

“So are you going to show me what you ducking got so far or what?” Bakugo snaps.

That’s right you were here to work on the project after all.

You take out the papers from your bag and hand it to him.

As he’s taking the papers from you, his fingers brush over your hands and give you chills ever so slightly.

Why am I getting excited over just his hands touching mine. I’m so dumb. You think to yourself.

He starts skimming your paper.

“Well, can I see yours too?” You ask.

“Mine are fine.” Is all he says.

You roll your eyes. Of course he thinks his is perfect and just wants to check if your work meets his idea of good.

You look around the library and notice all the other kids studying. You look around for a while just seeing if anything will catch your eye. You then look at Bakugo reading your work and you swear you see him look down really fast as if he’d been looking at something else.

Confused, you ask “Uh.. how is it ?”

You wonder if you were just thinking too deep into it. He couldn’t have been looking at you could he ?

“ it’s alright, but i think you should change the third poem thought”

“Oh really, and how about yours? I think I should see yours to know too”

“Mine are good dammit. But since you're being so goddamn annoying I’ll show you them.”

He takes out the papers from his bag and forcefully hands them to you. To your surprise they were actually pretty good. You're wondering how he got so good at English and especially at writing poetry. You looked at him just above the edge of the paper and you swore he was trying to look like he hadn’t been staring at you.

“You misspelled irresistible by the way “ you huff as you give the papers back to him.

“Fuck you.” He says as he snatches them back with just the hint of a smile on his face.

You wonder if you’re just crazy but you can’t but help find him more attractive when he does that.

“I think we’ll only need to meet one other time. I think we got almost everything covered.” You say. You feel almost sad that you won’t really have a reason to meet with him anymore. Then you remind yourself that it’s useless anyway because he doesn’t feel anything.

“Yeah sure whatever.”

The next morning you were up pretty early. No one was in the kitchen yet so you enjoyed the quietness. You hummed while looking around for something to eat. You didn’t really feel like cooking anything so you decided that cereal would do. As you were pouring you noticed that Kirishima walked in.

“ Hey”, Kirishma says

“Hey Kirishima”, you say back.

“Are you seriously just making cereal ?” Kirishima says laughing.

“Come on, I didn't feel like making anything else.” You say tiredly.

“Come on let’s make pancakes I’ll help you.” He says while smiling.

Of course you give in because who wouldn’t want pancakes over cereal. Also you wouldn’t be doing all the work so that’s nice too.

You ended up both making a mess of the kitchen laughing and throwing pancake mix at each other. You and Kirishma got along pretty well. He was always nice and brightened up the mood anywhere he was.

“Okay seriously let’s make a few more than finish up we’ve made a huge mess.” You say as you throw some more flour at him.

“Fineeee” he whines.

You were both laughing and playing around and it wasn’t till you felt a chill go through your body that you realized someone else was there.

You looked over and saw Bakugo standing at the entrance to the kitchen with an almost mad look on his face.

“Oh hey Bakugo want some pancakes?” Kirishma says as he’s pouring batter on the pan.

“What the hell are you guys doing” is all Bakugo says.

“Uhh making pancakes obviously? Need your eyes checked?” You say matching his attitude.

You couldn’t place the emotion on his face. He seemed mad but you wondered why. He was definitely trying to suppress some emotion but what was it? He seemed bothered but more than usual. But he’s always bothered so is there really any difference?

“Just shut up and clean up this mess” Bakugo huffs. He walks and purposely bumps into you while walking towards the pantry.

“Soo you don’t want any ?” You say playfully as you hold up an extra plate with pancakes on it.

“Hell no” Bakugo says while still looking in the pantry.

“Well I’m gonna go get ready for class today” Kirishima says. He’d been eating his pancakes while simultaneously making them which resulted in more of a mess but he actually cleaned it pretty well.

“See ya y/n , Bakugo.”

“See ya” you replied

Bakugo didn’t seem to want to reply, him still putting on an attitude while searching for food.

After Kirishima left, Bakugo turned around and started walking to the table you were sitting at.

“I’m only going to eat this because there’s nothing else to fucking eat.” He yells as he grabs the extra plate and sits across from you.

“Uh huh I’m totally sure there’s nothing else to eat.” You reply.

Later during class you were trying hard not to fall asleep. It’s not like Math was anything fun anyway. Soon the bell rang and class was over.

To your surprise Bakugo caught up to you as you were walking. “I think we should meet again tonight so we can finish the project for good. '' he says.

You were surprised he wanted to meet today when the project wasn’t due for a while.

“Oh sure, Um where do you want to meet?” You ask.

He didn’t reply which you took as he didn’t really have a place to meet. Which further confused you on why he asked to meet suddenly with short notice.

“Well Um we can meet in my room if you’d like ?” You posed. You couldn’t really think of anywhere else to meet, plus you only had little to work on so it shouldn’t take that long.

“Sure whatever, I don’t care. “ he replied.

He seemed not his normal self. Like something was bothering him outside of everything that already bothers him.

“Hey you’re the one who said we should meet what's with the attitude.”

“Yea yea whatever. See you there” is all he said. Before you could say anything back he was already ahead of you to your guys next class.

Next class was science which you didn’t really mind because your lab partner was always high energy. Halfway through the experiment you and Kaminari realized you messed up completely and just created an utter mess of the table. You both laughed it off and tried to fix your experiment but cleaning it up was the worst.

“Hey y/n bet you won’t drink this.” Kaminari laughed while pushing the beaker of god knows what towards you.

“Yea no way how about you I’ll give you 5 dollars ?” You pose.

“Omg 5 dollars you got it ?!” Kaminari yelled while “drinking” but you could clearly tell it was a dumb magic trick.

You roll your eyes.

“Shut up I know you didn’t actually.” You say laughing.

Something caught the corner of your eye. You turned and you noticed Bakugo staring at you and Kaminari with a glare on his face. Bakugo turned away before you had a moment to react. Was he actually looking at us? You thought to yourself. No way and was he mad? But why ? He’d been like this almost the whole day. Maybe something was bothering him. But what did it have to do with me ?

You ended up cleaning everything with Kaminari and class ended soon after.

Back in your room you looked at the clock. 6 pm. You completely forgot about meeting with Bakugo. You two didn’t discuss a time so you just got ready anyway expecting him to show up any moment.

Soon enough about 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door. You got up to open and sure enough it was Bakugo.

“Thanks for setting up a time.” You say sarcastically. You realize you’ve been smiling for a little too long so you stop and try to change the mood.

“So uh... are you going to come in?”

“Waiting for you to move out the goddamn way . He snorts

“Oh right” you reply. Embarrassed you didn’t realize you were blocking the entrance.

You both sat down at your desk. You assumed Bakugo wasn’t going to break the silence so you decided to.

“Can I see your poems so we can decide what order to put them in?” You ask.

Without a word he hands them over to you. You were surprised you didn’t get any sort of back talk or complaints. You decided not to question it and start reading through them.

“I think y-“.

Just as you were about to say something his lips met yours. You didn’t move. Was this really happening you thought to yourself? All the times you thought he didn’t even notice you and now this was happening.

You pulled away and said, “Bakugo what-“.

“I-I like you okay? I didn’t want to say anything about it before but I knew I had to today so there you go.” He said while avoiding your eyes.

You leaned back in and kissed him. You thought he was so cute in this moment so vulnerable and shy, avoiding your eyes.

It gave you a sort of confidence boost.

Know he felt the same way as you.

“Aww why didn’t you tell me before Bakugo”. You said after pulling away.

You noticed he got super red and you pulled him into a hug.

“Well after I saw how much fun you were having with Kirishma and Kaminari I knew I had too soon.”

You pulled away from the hug with a smug look on your face.

“Ohh were you jealoussss ? Was that why I caught you looking at us today ?”

“You’re lying I was looking at you guys.” He said avoiding your eyes again.

“Oh my goodd just admit I know you were. It’s Cute.” You said.

“No I didn’t. Not at all.” He said while rolling his eyes.

“Okkkayy finee.” You said sarcastically.

You gave him another hug and you guys decided to get on the bed and cuddle for a while.

You were surprised he could be so soft and his usual fiery self at the same time. You guys stood like that for a while. You started scratching his head and he seemed to like it. He held you tightly and you wished this could’ve happened earlier.

You sat up a bit and met his eye level. You held on to his hand and questioned, “ waittt does this mean you lied to me ?”

“What do you mean I didn’t lie about anything?” He said. You noticed he looked concerned

So cute.

“You didn’t really wanna work on the project huh.” You said while putting on a fake sad face. He pulled you back down into his arms and ruffled your hair.

“Are you serious? We’re literally cuddling shut up” he said.

“Uh huh so you did lie.” You said playfully. You crossed your arms as if you were mad just to play around with him.

“Fine you know what if you wanted that I’ll just leave.” He huffs while getting off the bed.

“Wait you know I was just jokingggg” you while pulling on his shift for him to come back.

“Exactly what I thought.” He said back while smiling.

“Now come on let’s cuddle. I'm cold without you.”

#mha #bnha #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #my hero imagines #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bakugou x y/n

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unstoppableforcce · 5 years ago

Text

a mistake ( 6 )

pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

previous part | next part | masterlist

a/n: if I promise things get better, would that make this hurt any less? this was originally attached to part 5, but grew into its own part!

“How bad is it?”

Your grip grew tighter around the wound and he swore he saw stars again, sadly, not in the way you normally induced them in his mind. Tighter and tighter and the pain only got worse, never numbing or adjusting to it, every quiver of your less than steady hands like a stab over and over and over—

“I’m not a doctor.” Voice tight, he knew you well enough to hear the stress even if it was so dark he couldn’t see anything.

It was the same tightness your voice had when you were stuck, when there was a problem you couldn’t solve. It didn’t happen often, but some days when he’s wandered out and found you out and working a problem somewhere in the hanger, sometimes he’d hear it slip in.

It was your panic reaction, as minor as it was, he could tell the difference in tone.

It must have been bad.

“Are you okay?” His head lulled back against whatever partially solid structure he was propped up against, his eyes strained to make out your face twisted in concentration. But it was too dark. He had to find comfort in your pain-inflicting grip.

“I’m fine.” You chopped out quickly but shook your head almost as fast to pull back the heat you laced the words with. “I’m sorry, I’m okay, I’m just not great with blood.”

He lifted the arm that still worked, intertwining his fingers loosely into the back of your hair. His arm was weak, he could barely hold it there, but he had to keep you close, to feel you there.

Except all he felt was blood.

“Babe—"

You flinched from his touch, “I’m okay, it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing…”

“You’re the one who’s going to bleed out, we can worry about me later.” You fought, keeping the pressure, eliciting another grunt from his throat.

He inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the pain but there was no success, it only grew with your adjusting pressure, forcing his eyes to clench shut. Another shift, he had to clench them even tighter, tight enough to see stars again.

He just wished it had all gone differently. He didn’t imagine you were going to melt away all of your inhibitions, all your concerns or reasonings, but the worst he thought you could do was turn him down again. And now things were so much worse than even the disastrous reaction he also planned for.

“I’m always worried about you…” He exhaled loosely, not even realizing the words which were falling from his lips.

“You shouldn’t, I’m okay.”

It must have been blood loss. He felt sick to his stomach and light-headed all at once. But he tried to ignore it, stifling every grunt and groan. “I can’t help it.”

“Poe—”

“Did you mean it?” He sighed, hand falling deft from your head, his grip all but gone. “That you love me…”

You pulled a hand from his arm and reached it, even as blood-stained as it was, back to his face, slapping him gently. Then slapping him gently again. Then not so gently.

“You can’t pass out, I need you to stay awake.” You pleaded, waiting for him to blink his eyes back open before returning your grip to the lengthy and deep cut along his arm. “Please stay awake.”

He groaned at the grip adjustment and nodded futilely. “It’s just… I’m trying babe.”

“We’re deep down here, Poe, it’s going to take them a while to find us, you need to stay awake.”

He nodded again. He had done that math already.

Whatever had happened, some kind of explosion or attack on the base, he figured they couldn’t be the only people stuck in dorms or injured. If it rattled this far down, it must have shaken the main hanger and base much more.

He got out easy, it was some falling metal from the ceiling which sliced through him. You were thrown to the ground, the back of your head bled slightly but you were having a much easier time…

He could only imagine how bad things were up top.

The pain was back as you shifted onto your knees, any move of your hand shifting the entire pain system coursing through him. Maybe he didn’t get out easy, maybe it was bad...

“Poe, you have to talk, keep talking.”

Your voice sliced back through. He swore his ears were tuned for the sound. Since you came up next to him in the bar that night, and any time since then, he could pick your voice out from a parsec away.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the last sound he would hear now.

He had to shake himself out of it. Think about something else, he tried to override his own brain, think about something else...

“Do you think it’s the First Order?” He muttered out, reopening his eyes in search of you again. Eventually, his eyes would adjust to the dull lighting, right? Eventually, he’d be able to see you?

He needed to see you.

“I don’t know.”

“We haven’t had an attack in so long and…” He was drifting off again.

“Poe—”

“I’m trying, kriff, babe I promise.” He huffed, “I’m trying.”

But he could feel his breaths growing more and more jagged in his lungs, the only thing grounding him, keeping him from slipping all the way gone, was your constant grip, no matter the pain that came with it. Though, he was feeling the pain less and less.

He didn’t imagine that was a good thing.

“Did you mean it?” He fluttered his eyes, banging his head back, trying to snap himself back awake.

“Did I mean what?” You hummed out, clearly trying to focus.

“That you love me…”

You remained silent. For a brief second, he thought he drifted off and missed your answer, but he could feel each of his breaths, he could still make out the shape of you in the light. He was still awake; you were just quiet.

“Babe?”

Your voice was tight again. “Yes.”

“That’s good.” He laughed out with almost all the strength he had left, enough to get a small stifled laugh out of you.

But it barely lasted a second. You recoiled from it, sniffling and wiping your nose onto the sleeve over your shoulder.

“Are you crying? I can’t see you…”

“I’m not crying.” That was a lie. He could hear your voice growing tighter and tighter.

“I’m going to be okay…”

You scoffed, “Yeah, I know. I just don’t like blood.” You tried to cover it up, but he knew better. There was too much there.

“Don’t worry…” He dragged his good hand over your bare thigh where you knelt next to him, soft only because he didn’t have the strength for anything else, otherwise he was sure he’d be gripping onto you like his life depended on it.

He wasn’t all too sure it didn’t at the moment.

He rubbed just enough to let you know he was still breathing; it was the most comfort he could provide. But he could also feel you shivering under his touch.

“We’re trapped ten floors underground, I can’t see anything, you’re bleeding out and the ventilation isn’t running…” You shook your head again. “And it’s all my fault.”

“Babe, it’s not—”

“I knew something was coming, that something was wrong—” He lifted his hand up to your face, trying to numbly wipe away the tears he could feel you trying to keep back.

“You didn’t—”

“Your ship was sabotaged, Snap’s too, then the shields… I knew something was up…”

He let his head fall back again. The memories were coming back. Each day or night you came over, he remembered the casual mentions. The wiring mystery. The shields…

They had been attacked, and if what you suspected was true, some part of it had to come from the inside. And that was a thought worse than the pain as your grabbed again, readjusting your grip as your hands were doused in his blood.

“It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Poe, if I knew something was wrong—”

“You didn’t know this was coming—”

“I-“

“You didn’t do this.” He urged, tightening his grip as much as he could on your leg. “Babe, this isn’t on you.”

“Poe, you’re going to bleed out and I did this—”

“And I thought you weren’t a doctor” He tried to lighten the mood, but even he couldn’t get behind it, he just didn’t have the heart for it. “I’ll be okay.”

“So, you’re allowed to be worried about me, but I’m not allowed to worry about you?” You scoffed back, sniffling once more.

He swore his heart broke to hear it. You spent so much of your time around him hiding all of your emotions, but this was you coming as close to bearing your soul to him as you seemed to be capable of, and it broke him. He just wanted to hold you, he wanted to reach out and hold you—

Your hand readjusted, slipping against his skin wet with blood and the pain was back again. “I’m sorry…”

“No, no…” The light-headedness was back, his sarcasm all that could leak through. “No, it feels good, please keep moving, that’s great.”

You could feel him slipping, but you couldn’t slap him again, you couldn’t pull away.

“Poe, please, stay awake, stay with me…”

“I’m here, babe, I’m not going… I’m not going anywhere…” He was drifting again, head leaning back—

You sat up further on your knees, trying to keep your grip steady as you leaned closer to him, nudging your forehead up tight against his, as close as you could press.

“Stay with me, please, just hold out until help…”

His lips were moving but nothing was coming out, he was drifting further and further.

“Poe please—”

“I’m here babe…” He tried to push back, to lean into you but he was running on fumes.

“Stay with me.”

His eyes fell shut. Everything was just as black as the room. All he could hear was the faint sound of your voice. But it was growing fainter and fainter…

“Stay with me…”

#star wars #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe x reader #angst

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joyfulsongbird · 5 years ago

Text

Bruises And All- Chapter 6

Eurydice is still out of her depth in this new place, and especially overwhelmed in Orpheus’ presence. Not that she wants to get away from him, the exact opposite, actually.

here’s the link to Chapter 5!

EURYDICE doesn’t like the dark. She decided that long ago, but here, where the rain pelts against the window not too far away from her head and the moon covered by storm clouds, she is more than worried about what it contains. there are no stars, there is no moon, it’s pitch black in this room that smells of that boy. it smells like Orpheus, like old wood and the faint metallic smell of guitar strings. she can hear the wind blowing through each crack of the house, she curls up against herself in this twin bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

she trembles, shivers go up her spine as she tries to contain all of her body heat under these thin covers. her body does not want to cooperate with her, so finally, finally, she convinces herself that sleep is not happening and gets up, dragging a quilt with her along the way and wrapping it about her shoulders.

she doesn’t know exactly where she’s going or why but anything is better than lying stagnant at the mercy of the dark. she’ll just wander this building until her legs are so tired she can’t stand on her own two feet anymore. It's an old technique she’s used for a long time: no bad dreams if you don’t sleep, no being afraid of the dark if you’re sitting at candle light. no, she’s not afraid of the dark, she just doesn’t like it. she just always likes to be able to see her fingers when her hand is held out in front of her, she likes that assurency. that she’ll always be able to be covered in light.

her feet drag on the floor as well as the blanket as she carries with her. her feet are blocks of ice, numb against the scrape of the wood. she has calluses even on the bottoms of her feet, where do those come from?

Eurydice expects it to be dark when she gets downstairs but there’s a faint golden glow flowing out from behind the bar, as she turns the corner, her eyes catch a candle. with wax dripping down onto the saucer it sits on, not even a proper candle holder. they are poor, she can see that, with candles in teacup saucers because they don’t need teacups in a bar.

he’s leaning against the bar, a drink in his hand.

oh my god oh my god what’s he holding he’s holding it over my head my head hurts my clothes smell like whiskey mom’s gonna be able to tell she’s gonna know she’s gonna know she's gonna know she's gonna-

The clink of the glass wakes her from the breath revere. and when she glances towards it, she sees that the liquid is clearly not whiskey or alcohol of any kind. it’s white and thick, more opaque than any cocktail. He drinks warm milk when he can’t sleep... of course. of course he’s innocent like that.

“good morning.” the side of lip quirks up to the side nervously, an attempt at a joke. She gives a small courtesy smile.

“I didn’t think anyone would be awake.” she says under her breath.

“me neither.” he replies, taking another small swig of milk. “mister Hermes usually lets me spend the night down here when I can’t-”

“I can leave.”

“no! no- no, that’s totally ok!” he stumbles to reassure her, taking two steps towards her and one step back. Still one step forward, she acknowledges that in her mind. she waits for her body to move backwards away from him, but she doesn’t. she lets it be like that. one step forward. “it’s lonely, anyways. it’s nice to have company... for once.”

“don’t you have you have your-your- mister Hermes and your aunt and uncle and everyone.” she says, trying to point to how lucky he is. with this family at fingertips length, with people just up the street who would throw themselves in front of a train for him.

“yes. yes, of course, I just mean... it’s different... with you.” the tips of his ears are turning pink, and she feels the urge to back away rising in her again. “sorry. sorry, I was just about to make some tea when you came down? do you want any?”

“uh- yeah, I’d like that.” she itches the back of her neck, feeling strangely warm. tea would be nice, to give her something to do with her body while she stands there in front of this boy. who looks at her... just looks at her. He fills a kettle with water from a sink over against the wall and puts lights on a stove quickly with a match before putting the kettle over the fire.

“Here, let me-” he goes all the way around the bar and picks up two of the stools under his arms and carries them over to the other side. He sets it down, brushing it off quickly even though there’s no dust to be seen. “there, um, have a seat.”

she’s never known a gentle man that she can remember. “how old are you, Orpheus?”

Hermes already told her but she asks anyway. “I’m 19.” he says absently.

“did you go to school?”

“for awhile, I dropped out when I was 15.”

“why?”

It's the first time she’s seen him tense around her. He shifts from foot to foot, nerves rattle through his entire body. He reads like an open book but she can’t quite figure out the meaning under the words. “I- I wasn’t a very good student.”

He's an awful liar.

she scratches the top of the bar with her black nail polish fingernails. the silence falls around them like blankets of snow, covering her body in a fuzzy cold that infiltrates her entire body and soul.

“did... did you go to school?”

“no,” she murmurs. “no, I didn’t.”

he turns around then, concern etched across his every feature. “never?”

something in her rises up. “I’m not stupid, I-I know things, okay? I know math and all that, I can read, and all that, I just never went to... to a building. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said that, I didn’t mean that.” he rushes to say right away. the water starts to steam on the stovetop, he turns back to that as he continues speaking. “Who taught you, then? if... if you still learned.”

she doesn’t want to answer, so she doesn't. He slides a steaming cup of tea to her. He nods and says what she couldn’t get out. “you taught yourself?”

Eurydice nods. shame is laced through her entire body, from the hands that cold the hot mug, to the tips of her hair that brush just in front of her eyes, to feet that are linked behind the bars of the stool. this shame always sits under her skin, always bubbling under the surface, she hates when it overflows into the visible eye. she doesn’t cry when she feels shame, but she sinks into herself. she falls back into habits she hates. she doesn’t speak, she doesn’t make eye contact.

“that’s alright, that’s fine,” he sits across from her, also holding a mug of steaming hot water. “you’re probably smarter than me, I never... I don’t know anything past the eighth grade.”

she wants to drink something stronger but knows he’d never let her.

“at least you have the arts to fall back on,” she says, as if they were discussing their careers. “at least you have some skill.”

“I bet you have a lot of skill,” he replies. “I bet you’re good at a lot of things.”

“depends on how you define ‘good” I guess,” she mutters. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“okay.” he says, stopping himself immediately. “what do you want to talk about? or... we don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.”

she grips the mug harder in her grip, she won’t let her muscles relax because then she’ll start shaking.

he’s getting too close.

if she scooted her chair forward about a foot and a half, their knees would touch. Just the thought of that sends panic signals up her spine, creeping into her skull like spiders. tentative thoughts of just getting up and going. going, until she’s out the door. going until she’s lost herself in a sea of tranquility and she never- if she goes she will never have to worry about touch anymore.

if she goes, she won’t need touch anymore. That's what she wants. That's what she’s always wished for. for her fingertips to not feel what is underneath them. for her eyes to never water. for her body to numb and dull and lose all feeling. she doesn’t want to die, she just wants to live in a world without color. without texture. in a play doh, pillow soft, smooth world where nothing hurts... and there’s no one to hurt. she can’t possibly remain here where this boy resides, knowing full well she will hurt him.

“I-I don’t...” she doesn’t know what she wants anymore. she doesn’t know why she’s here.

“I’m cold.” she admits.

“oh!” he jumps out of his chair. “it’s super warm down in the basement, where the furnace is. we keep a sofa down there, if you’d want to go. it’s really cozy.”

“I- um, alright.” she slips off of the stool, quilt still wrapped around her shoulders. He's so eager. something in her tells her to stop, to not go down there with him, but the other part, the part that watched him drink goddamn warm milk in a bar follows him willingly. with his open palms and warm eyes, she follows him. with a swift look over his shoulder to make sure she’s following, he leads across the bar to a sidedoor.

“watch your head when you reach the bottom.” he warns, before descending into darkness.

it’s pitch black down there. no way.

“Orpheus!” she calls, hugging herself close. “Orpheus, there’s a light down there, right?”

A pause. “Orpheus?”

silence for a brief moment, a moment that lasts too long. where her heart stutters and she’s quite sure something has happened to him.

“the electricity is out, I’m just lighting some candles. one second! you can come down, it’s not as dark as it looks!” his unaccompanied voice floats up the stairs.

it’s not as dark as it looks, that’s what he said. she reminds herself as she takes the first step, the quilt drags at her feet and she lifts it, careful not to trip. Each step is easier than the last, as she slowly walks into the warm darkness below. and as she reaches the bottom, her body quivering slightly in what she might call fear, she realizes that he’s right. that when she looks to her right, she sees him, standing there, all tall and gangly; leaning over a small table lighting a candle. not far from him is a navy blue couch, only big enough to fit maybe three people, if they squeezed together. and in the far corner to her right, the large furnace emits warmth through this whole room.

he smiles at her and waves her over. she does. her body feels much warmer now, with the furnace and the quilt wrapped about her and the fact that the floor here is covered in this semi-soft carpeting. she could stay down here for a long time, this is a different world than up there. with it’s soft lighting and thicker atmosphere. She highly prefers this to reality.

“you can sit, if you want.” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I left your tea up there by accident, I’m just gonna get it.”

“oh-” but he’s gone before she can even say that she doesn’t need her tea. she hesitates for a moment before meandering over to the couch and sinking into it. The cushions are large and soft and allow her to just sink into it, making her feel very small and fragile. like she’s surrounded by soft, pillow-y clouds.

He runs down the stairs, or walks as fast as he can down the stairs while holding a still steaming mug of tea.

“here you go!” he says, handing it to her. She holds it gingerly for a moment and takes a small sip.

“thank you.” she allows a small, tight lipped smile to slip through. and he beams back at her, as if he just competed in a world class competition for being the sweetest boy alive and came back with 1st place. She leans forward and places the mug on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

she leans back, tucking her legs underneath her, trying to get comfortable. she can’t seem to. everything feels too- too big. every single movement is multiplied by ten in this small space, every word she utters seems to have some meaning underneath. maybe it does. maybe it doesn’t. but looking up at Orpheus, she can’t help a warm feeling pool in her chest. she recognizes it, a want, a part of her wants to pull him close. it’s only an animal attraction, there’s nothing really real about it.

“are you going to sit? or just stand there the entire night?” he blinks at her, as if he really had been going to do just that.

“I- uh- okay.” he lowers himself to sit beside her, discomfort laced through every single one of his movements. she feels guilty almost immediately.

“Orpheus, if you don’t want to sit that’s fine, I-”

“no, no,” he begins, twisting the hem of his shirt around his fingers. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

This gives her a pause. “hurt me?”

“not... not physically hurt you. you just seem... I don’t know, scared, and I don’t want to intrude on your space or anything.” It's touching, even if a little over cautious, that he’s thinking this deeply about her needs and feelings. the thought buzzes in the back of her head: no one had ever done that before.

“you aren’t.” she promises and reaches towards him to cover his hand with hers, or partially cover it. “see? totally fine.”

he gives her that goofy grin again and that feeling bubbles up again, a dozen observations flood her mind. how warm and calloused his skin is, how such a kind boy could be so hard worked. It was always her experience that the men who bragged of all of their hard work and calluses were the cruelest. it surprises her that she can even touch this boy, because when she looks him right in the eyes, she can’t help but think of a different boy. a boy with different eyes, who had no hope but war brewing in his chest. but touching him... being this close... She can acknowledge their differences. Orpheus is leaner, his eyebrows aren’t as prominent on his face, and when he smiles, his lips don’t curl back on his teeth like an angry dog’s. In five years, Eurydice imagines he will already have smile lines.

just a few minutes ago, she was inside her head about how close they were becoming while seated at the bar but down here it is a different realm. down here, they exist in a space without time or movement or touch. there is just them and the warmth and the couch beneath them. she doesn’t feel angry or sad or reckless or skittish, she feels... It's almost safe. almost. she feels as if she could spend hours down here and never want to leave but it’s what exists up those stairs that makes her feel uneasy. it’s what is outside that she fears. the outside where she’ll have to go to soon, the outside she’ll flee to once this storm has blown over. no matter how many offers are made, no matter how sweet this boy is, no matter how much she wants to stay, she is leaving.

That's the thought that makes her place her hand gingerly back in her lap, already missing the warmth it gave. but it isn’t a matter of “don’t get attached” it is “don’t get too close, it’ll hurt him when you go”.

it’s him.

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chloelucia13 · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 7: MADMAX

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: A year after getting Will back, things seemed that they were going back to normal. Well, almost everything

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, descriptions of medical procedures, it’s pretty tame this chapter (it’ll get crazier, trust me)

Word Count: 1947

A/N: We’ve finally reached season 2! This chapter is a little short, but they’ll definitely get longer. I’m gonna start a masterlist for this series so it’ll be easier to binge. I’m glad you guys have enjoyed it so far! I have a lot of plans for this season and the next, and I’m hoping to finish season 3 before the new season comes out (fingers crossed!). Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @just-my-fandom

Catch up: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

You were nearly half asleep when the bell rang, signaling the end of your math class. In an instant, you were out of your chair with your bag slung over your shoulder and running towards the door to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan.

Tina stood at the door of the class, handing out neon orange invitations to her yearly Halloween party that had a reputation for having the cops shut it down. You avoided her hand when she reached an invitation out to you, hurrying forward to walk in-step with Jonathan.

A moment later, Nancy caught up to you two, handing each of you one of the invitations. “You guys are coming to this,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“’Come and get sheet-faced,’“ Jonathan read the invite out loud before scoffing. “No I’m not.”

“Oh come on,” she whined before turning to you. “Y/N, tell him he has to come.”

You sighed. “Nance, I don’t go to parties.”

“I can’t just let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Well you can relax, we’re not gonna be alone. We’re taking the kids trick-or-treating,” Jonathan explained.

“All night?”

“Yeah.”

“No, no way. You guys are gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you hummed, letting out a chuckle.

“Yeah, that sounds like a nice night,” Jonathan joined in, playfully nudging your shoulder with his.

Nancy sighed and stopped at her locker. “Just come, guys. I mean, who knows, maybe you guys will like, meet someone,” she pleaded, opening her locker.

Just as you were about to scoff at her claim, Steve appeared out of nowhere and picked Nancy up, making her squeal in surprise. You and Jonathan exchanged a look and slipped out of there as quietly as possible, heading out towards the parking lot.

“Does Will have his appointment today?” you asked once you guys reached his car, sitting down on the hood.

He sat next to you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I think so.”

You nodded, pursing your lips for a moment. “Should we go to the video store after school and get some movies he’d like? We could have a movie night?”

“Yeah, I think he’d like that.” He gave you a smile, but let out a sigh afterwards. “But Bob is supposed to come over tonight.”

“Oh come on, Jonathan. Bob’s nice!”

“I guess. He’s just... off.”

“He’s just normal, Jonathan. He’s happy. It’s odd to us, but it’s not a bad thing. And besides, he makes your mom so happy, and I’d take Bob over Lonnie any day of the week.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He pursed his lips for a moment before turning back to you. “How have you been feeling?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Like, I feel normal, but I also feel... I feel like something bad is gonna happen. Like an sense of impending doom.” With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes. “And I’ve been getting zero sleep. I’ve been having nightmares for the past few weeks, and I haven’t had any in months. Maybe it’s because it’s around the same time when everything happened last year, but I don’t know.”

He nodded along to your words, listening intently. “Do you think that going to the party would help take your mind off things?”

“Jonathan, you know I don’t like parties. The loud sounds...” You shuttered. “I just don’t know.”

“Wouldn’t you want to have a normal high school experience before you graduate?”

“Wow, Jonathan Byers is trying to convince me to do something normal?” You chuckled and nudged his shoulder.

“Come on, nothing else about our lives is normal. Why shouldn’t we have one normal experience?”

You let out a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

***

By the time Joyce and Bob got back with Will, you and Jonathan we’re nearly passed out on his bed listening to Joy Division.

You had shot up with a start at the sound of the door creaking open, forgetting where you were as your fight or flight kicked in.

Jonathan sat up right after you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just mom and Will, you’re okay,” he whispered, sensing your panic. “You’re safe.”

You let out a small sigh, rubbing at your eyes. “Right, sorry,” you choked out before taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

He took both your hands in his and rubbed soothing circles on your palms as you regulated your breathing. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You sure?”

With a shuddering breath, you squeezed his hands and gave him a smile. “Positive. I just... Had to realize where I was. I’m good now.”

He gave you a doubtful look, but nodded. “Okay.” He stared down at your linked hands for a moment, a small smile growing on his face.

“What’re you thinking about?” you hummed, noticing the smile on his entranced face.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “Nothing, I just...” he sighed, shaking his head again. “It’s nothing.”

You rolled your eyes but took the hint to not push it, instead getting up off the bed and sifting through his cassette tapes. Your hand stopped on what appeared to be a new tape, one that you hadn’t seen before. With a hum, you picked it up and read the label. “’For her.’” you read aloud, your heart sinking a little. You turned to him, holding the tape up. “Who’s this for?”

His face immediately turned a bright shade of red as he scrambled out of his bed and over to you. “No one,” he rushed out, reaching out for the tape.

You arched an eyebrow at him and studied his movements for a moment before realization dawned on you. “Nancy.” You let out an incredulous chuckle. “That’s why you want to me to go to the party with you!”

“No!” He snatched the tape from your hands and put it back in the box. “Can we just drop it?”

“Absolutely not! You need to tell me, Jonathan! I’m your best friend, you have to tell me!”

He let out a huff and sat down on the edge of his bed, searching for what to say. “I... I like her, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him. “Y’know, you could’ve just told me you wanted to go to that party for her and I would’ve caved a lot quicker.”

He turned his head to look at you. “That’s not why I wanted to go to the party.”

“Oh Jonathan, don’t give me some bullshit about how you wanted me to go to have fun-”

“But it’s true!”

“Jonathan, I’m not mad. You like her, and I’m happy for you. I’ll go to that party with you.”

Suddenly, Joyce opened Jonathan’s bedroom door and peeked her head inside. “Movie night?” she hummed.

You nodded, grabbing the three VHS tapes you and Jonathan rented and handing them to her. “We stopped at the video store after school today,” you explained, giving her a smile.

She scanned each movie before handing them back to you. “Awesome! I’ll make some popcorn!” She hurried away, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You let out a chuckle at her excitement, something that was very rare nowadays, and turned back to Jonathan. “You okay?” you asked, noticing the blank look on his face as he stared off into the distance.

He nodded, coming back to reality, and pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go get Will,” he voiced, walking to the door without another word and leaving you to follow him.

The two of you walked over to Will’s room and knocked on the door before entering. “Hey bud, we didn’t know what you’d like, so we got a variety,” Jonathan explained as you showed them to him before setting them atop his bookshelf. “Take your pick.”

“Whatever you want,” Will stated before returning to the drawing in his lap.

“Alright,” you hummed, sharing a look with Jonathan before the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. “What are you working on?”

“Zombie Boy? Who’s Zombie Boy?” Jonathan asked, sneaking a glance at Will’s drawing.

Will hesitated for a moment. “Me,” Will voiced quietly.

“Did someone call you that?” you questioned, voice laced with concern.

Will stayed silent, eyes focused on his drawing.

“Hey, you know you can to talk to me, talk to us. You know that, right?” you urged. “Whatever happened. Will, come on, talk to us.”

“Stop treating me like that!” he snapped back, making you furrow your brows in worry.

“What? Like what?”

“Like everyone else. Like there’s something wrong with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan spoke up.

“Mom, Dustin, Lucas, everyone. They all treat me like I’m gonna break. Like I’m a baby. Like I can’t handle things on my own. It doesn’t help. It just makes me feel more like a freak.”

You frowned deeply, clutching the bee pendant of your necklace. “Like we’re freaks,” you hummed in response, pursing your lips.

“You’re not a freak, neither of you,” Jonathan said, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah, I am,” Will argued. “I am.”

Jonathan clenched his jaw, letting out a huff. “You know what? You’re right.” Jonathan scooted up on the bed and turned to face Will. You turned around and tucked your legs under yourself. “You are freaks.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and Will’s gaze rose from his drawing. “What?”

“No, I’m serious. You’re freaks. But what? Do you want to be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else? Being a freak is the best, I’m a freak.”

“Is that why you don’t have any friends other than Y/N?” Will asked, earning a laugh from you.

“I have friends, Will.”

“Then why are you always hanging out with me?”

“Because you’re my best friend, alright.”

“I mean, I’d rather be best friends with Zombie Boy than with a boring nobody,” you added, playfully nudging Will’s shoulder as Jonathan’s words sank in.

“Who would you rather be friends with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers?” Jonathan added.

Will made a disgusted face. “Ugh,” he groaned.

“Exactly! It’s no contest.”

“The thing is, nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world. You got it?” you told him.

“Well... Some people like Kenny Rogers,” Will countered.

“Kenny Rogers?” came from the hallway, and Bob popped into the open doorway. “I love Kenny Rogers.”

Will and Jonathan exchanged a look and chuckled, earning a light slap to their legs from you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Will brushed off, a big smile on his face.

Bob grabbed the tapes from off the shelf, looking through them. “Mr. Mom,” he whooped. “Perfect!”

As soon as he left the room, the two boys broke into giggles once more. “Hey, be nice!” you chided, letting out a slight giggle yourself. You pushed yourself off Will’s bed. “Alright, I guess we gotta go watch a movie now.”

Will nodded and set down his drawing pad and colored pencils before hopping off the bed and going out into the hallway.

“Hey Y/N?” Jonathan voiced, getting up off the bed and walking to you, stopping once he was only a foot or so away from you.

“Yeah?” you hummed, turning to face him.

“Thank you for helping me talk to Will.”

“Of course. There’s no need to thank me.”

He nodded, but there seemed to be something else on his mind.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go watch the movie.”

54 notes · View notes

parkeraul · 6 years ago

Photo

→ boyfriend • 1 | t.h. & s.m.

prologue | part 1

author’s note — hello, girlfriends. first of all, i really wanna apologise for the lack of writings lately & for this shitty moodboard. plus, i wanna give the hugest shoutout to @itrocksmysocks who’s been sending me pictures and stuff to help me get inspiration to write this series [thank u so much, latina neighbour!]. for now, i’m gonna update this series once in a week, then the next i’m gonna reserve the next one to write, then update on the following week and it’ll go on and on. enjoy!

pairing: tom holland x shawn mendes x reader college!tom | college!shawn

masterlist ┊add yourself to my taglists ┊give me feedbacks.

words — 3,4k; warnings — flirting, cursing, mentions of alcoholic drinks.

“People on the very back: Listen!” Mrs. Edwards shouts, banging against the board twice with her pen. “This graphic is very simple, okay? If you keep on talking and talking, it’ll become your worst nightmare and there will be no help during the final test.”

The white board had been completely taken over by lists of informations, numbers, theories and graphics in at least 3 different colours. It’s been an hour or almost two since she started crossing the entire board with red, green, blue & black and Tom feels amazed by how well she manages to understand the entire system she’s been writing for so many time. As a class he signed for just to have some more complementary hours, he can straight tell you he’s not exactly caring about it that much. It’s way too fast and too mathematic for his mind.

All the people sitting around him in the classroom are already letting the tiredness consume them. Some are sighing and dropping their pencils; some are rubbing their faces repeatedly; some others are actually paying attention and probably trying hard not to freak out. Considering the white walls with white tables and chairs, if no one said that this is a math class, people would probably walk in and think it’s a sanatorium. All faces exhausted and it’s clear to see that at least 90% of the class can’t wait for the summer break to rescue them all — the 10% left is filled with the boys that have been sleeping for the past 30 minutes.

“Next class we’ll get back to the basic analysis to freshen up a bit, I recommend you to bring one or two books to do some research as well—“

“Hey, dude,” Jacob whispers close to Tom, sitting on the chair in front of him as he turns his head — far enough to see Tom leaning in through his peripheral, but not far enough to lose sight of Mrs. Edwards giving further endorsements. “Match tomorrow at 5?” “Sure,” Tom agrees, keeping his ‘attentive’ on the teacher in front of the class. “Have you guys picked the entire team already?” He says nonchalantly. It’s typical: In Fridays, after everyone’s last class, friendly football match with the boys from the athletic team of the Empshire University.

“Ian, Ryan, Heather and Matthew: You guys cannot miss the next class at all. You guys have been bailing for a long time and one more skip it’s deadline for the four of you—“

“Same thing,” Jacob says and Tom starts to close his books, pulling his backpack up to tuck them inside of it haphazardly. “But we’ll add John Mayer to it because Kevin’s not coming.” “You don’t have to say John Mayer, his gang’s not here,” They both look around the classroom, failing at being discreet as they search for any friends of… Well… ’John Mayer’. Tom zips his bag close and Jacob turns around to do the same while everyone else’s already prompting themselves up to leave. “And you better put him in the defenders, far away from the frontline.” “I knew you’d say this!” They laugh under their breaths, also getting up to finally inspire some fresh air outside.

“See you next Thursday.” Mrs. Edwards says almost quietly, arranging her stuff while the room starts to get empty.

The corridor had never felt this comfy before. It’s crowded and a little bit loud but a lot better than Classroom number 9. As students from all courses starts talking to each other, Tom takes a look across the wall and spots new posters.

This wall is known as The Great Wall of Empshire —or Wall–E for the intimates. The Wall–E is a large blue wall that stands out from the regular white & grey ones of the building. Also, is where students pin folders and posters to warn the whole college about whatever seems to be relevant. It mostly holds notices of people looking for roommates, lost & found stuff, a special space painted in red for teacher’s announcements and messages from the secretariat of the university. As the results of the finals and classes stuff starts to fade away, the posters to summer parties slowly take over the big blue rectangle in the exact middle of the corridor to one of the two buildings that build the Empshire University.

Coming closer, Tom watches Missy climbing tiny–trembling stairs to glue a folder about Musical Theatre auditions. She’s sure struggling and, although he feels bad, he laughs in anyways as low as he can. Obviously, he doesn’t come out as subtle as he planned and gets a very–stressed Missy Langford slicing his entire being in two with the mad look in her blue eyes.

“You’re being very helpful by laughing,” She huffs, tapping the big poster repetitively to make sure it won’t fall for the next week. “Asshole.” “Oh, Miss, come on,” He teases, smirking like the asshole she just called him. “I thought we were over that part. Asshole! – Idiot! – Douche! Get outta here! You know? Last summer’s business, love,” Tom brings up a memory they both shared some time ago, knowing how pissed she’d get with the dialogue all over Tom’s charming accent in a playful tone, which sure has nothing to do with the atmosphere of the moment itself. “I swear to God that if this thing was any stronger, I’d jump onto your face right now.” After rolling her eyes, Missy spits at Tom and sees his smile widening stupidly. “Anyways,” Crossing arms, Tom steps closer to the Wall–E and leans against a blank space. “What’s that?” “We’re doing Hairspray,” She answers flatly. “Not that you’re allowed to subscribe, of course.” “Who said?” Tom frowns and squeaks way louder than usual. What now? Is she going to forbid him to audition to an open–invitation? “Jesus.” Tom’s jaw falls dramatically, “Oh! Swearing to God… Talking to Jesus, apparently,” He quirks an eyebrow, faking surprise. “Didn’t know you had friends outside college.” “Will you shut the fuck up and help me get down?” Missy gives the poster one last strong tap — probably thinking about slapping Tom’s face instead — and stretches an arm towards him. “Not that you deserve it, but–“

Tom goes silent at the moment he gets his back off the wall to help Missy, noticing Jacob coming closer suddenly with someone else.

“Is it here?” The person with Jacob asks, holding a big orange poster. “Yep,” He confirms. “We call it Wall–E!” The answer to his information is just a laughter that makes Tom immediately forget about giving Missy a hand, bringing him to step closer to the conversation. “Hey man, where were you?” At the moment Tom asks, Jacob instantly gets what he’s trying to do. Not that Tom wasn’t kinda nosy sometimes, but they’ve been hanging out enough for his moves to look predictable. Way too predictable. Jacob says nothing, only squints his eyes and the silence suiting the four of them is slightly uncomfortable. “Uhm… I asked him for help as he was waiting for people to open some space so we… Could… Walk until here.” The voice is hesitant and sweet, although, while Missy eyes the person — The person looks at Tom, then looks down — Tom looks back & Jacob watches Tom prepare a whole scene inside his mind. “There’s some tape upon that tiny cabinet that you can use,” Jacob points to the front, past Tom and Missy Langford, “And if you can put it wherever you want as long as it’s in the blue area.” “Thank you so much! I’ll help myself with anything, don’t wanna take more of your time.” “No worries,” Giving a smile, Jacob walks to the side and then to Tom, offering his hand to a high–five. “I think you’ll be okay.”

As he feels the deep gaze of his friend as he passes by, Tom understands the second intentions of the phrase as if Jacob had just said “very smooth, my friend, shoot your shot” and left. It’s not that Tom Holland is a complete womanizer — the term Prince Charming fits him better, he says —but everyone who knows him decently is aware of the fact that he has no time for bullshit. No ceremony, no playing around. If Tom Holland likes someone, he’ll sure let this person know and try a move. If it goes right then awesome! And if it goes wrong he won’t go bitter about it longer than two or three seconds. He’ll eventually forget even though he doesn’t want to.

The british boy watches another struggle. Tiptoeing, the other person lifts the poster to see if it’ll fit in the only larger space left on The Great Wall as Missy climbs down the stairs by herself, analyzing the entire scene with squinted eyes.

“Here, luv,” Tom gently moves closer and takes the poster in his hands. He tiptoes as well and reaches the blank spot easier. “I think it’ll fit, don’t ya?” “It sure will!” The answer comes out in a chuckle. “I don’t believe we met, actually,” With feet back on the floor, he holds the banner while he looks directly to the owner. There’s this stupid beautiful smile adorning his face kind of shyly, but surely threatening to widen more as his fingers run through his brown hair. “I’m sorry. I’m Y/N,” She says, smiling back at him and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tom notices the delicate pair of earrings shining through the locks. “Beautiful! Beautiful name,” His brows frown quickly, listening to her voice like his favourite band’s singing his favourite song of all time. His mouth wants to say ‘beautiful face too’ with ‘beautiful lips’ and a ‘beautiful eyes’, but his brain works harder to keep his dignity safe somehow. “And your name is?” Suddenly, his throat goes dry. He tries to clear it, eyes blinking rapidly and he stretches an arm to find support on the wall. The jeans on his legs goes tighter, the white t-shirt for summer weather feels hotter than a thousand coats and the backpack on his shoulder heavens like he’s carrying a bag filled with rocks. What the heck? “My name?” “No, idiot,” Missy says behind Tom. “My name.” Rolling eyes, Tom slightly turns around and clenches his jaw, looking at Missy Langford’s sarcastic face with everything but appreciation. “Will you shut the fuck up?” He mumbles through gritted teeth. “I’m tryna get lucky in here,” And this time who rolls eyes is Missy, fixing her yellow shirt and putting it back inside her blue jeans. “I’m Thomas, darlin’. You can call me Tom.”

Or future ex–boyfriend, Missy thinks to herself feeling a tiny bit of heartache annoying her chest. It’s been around four months since she argued with Tom, which led to their break–up. Well, Missy calls it a break–up. For Tom, nothing’s been broken up because what they had was just a thing, a sudden meeting of feverish hormones boiling through their bodies. No one ever kneeled down and asked gently, no one ever posted pictures online or introduced the other to their parents. He notices the way she’s still bitter about it, but after a thousand conversations and discussions, Tom had just decided to let her be until the ache goes away eventually, since his words were apparently not helping at all.

“Tom,” Y/N confirms, nodding along and looking at him. He reacts with a smile, coffee eyes drinking her in. “Thank you, Tom! I should probably go find that cabinet where the tape might be at—“ “I’ll show you!” Tom interrupts, prompting up his body and fixing his shirt. “By the way, what are you announcing? Do you need a place to stay or share?” “Oh, no! Not at all,” Y/N warns as soon as she drinks in the way Tom’s tone of voice fell worried. The boy looks down at the poster, trying to find the main information of the paper. “It’s just a party. You’re both invited, actually! It’s gonna be at my place… Tomorrow afternoon.”

Tom says nothing, just removes his eyes from the folder to look at Y/N’s charming smile. He didn’t need any more reasons to say something rather than yes — the other words slipping out of her mouth were soundless to him, his eyes were too hypnotized by the way her lips were moving; hypnotized in a way his ears stopped working for a moment but his head managed to nod along to whatever she proposed. Yes, yes and yes. A thousand times yes to whatever she just proposed.

“Well, I’ll find the tape to hang it on,” She comments, eyeing the couple as her feet start to plan their way to the middle of the corridor. “I hope you can make it.”

Her sweet smile makes it hard for Tom to think twice — not that he even considered doing this, but it’s new to him how the entire surrounding seems to slow down the pace and noise when Y/N simply breathes and smiles sweetly. This is not right, not one bit, he thinks. His heart never raced this fast before; his mouth never craved other lips as it’s doing at the moment but one thing is certain: this party’s going to ease down his thirst one way or another. Tom only realizes that Y/N went away when the frame in front of him becomes Missy. She’s got a smirk on her face and two of her fingers travel across his collarbone, right next to where his white shirt ends. She feels the warmth of his chest increasing underneath the pad of her index and middle fingers, eyes traveling across his softened expression.

“Pick me up at 2 o’clock tomorrow?” She asks rhetorically, melting slightly when he takes her hand to plant a kiss on her knuckles.

By the hand, he drags her body closer so he can murmur next to her ear the same word he’s been saying repeatedly for these past months.

“No.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were going to ditch us for that party tomorrow, you bitch!”

Shawn rolls his eyes, smiling widely as he manages to carry his backpack, water bottle and guitar case towards his car. Brian, on the other hand, doesn’t feel like smiling back.

“Answer me!”

“Dude?!” Shawn stops, putting down his case to grab the keys inside his pocket. “It’s just a football match, we do this every fucking week.”

“Exactly! We do this every fucking week—“

“Man, Y/N’s gonna be there,” He smiles again, pressing the button to unlock the doors. “You know how much I’ve been waiting for this day to come over.”

“Wasn’t she in London?” The redhead asks, walking beside his best friend as he bends down to get the guitar case once again.

Things are heavy in Shawn’s hands and back, but the thought of finally seeing Y/N again after a semester of torture shots a wave of numbness through his nerves. The blue shirt feels hotter and the black jeans are surely tighter, but the way his heart floats around his chest makes him feel light like a feather.

He misses her.

Misses her smile, her eyes, the sound of her voice and her laugh when he first talked about his feelings for her. Shawn noticed that she didn’t believe him at all, but that impression didn’t last long in his mind — the way Y/N got close to his lips to mumble sweet nothings had sent him to cloud 9. Then his trip flew down to hell just as quickly when she pulled away to walk past the door, leaving Shawn’s pout kissing the air and the side of his bed empty. Next thing he knew, Y/N was on a plane ready to spend half of the year exploring the british airs of South West London. The song he wrote about her ended up staying inside of his second drawer, but the long-sleeved jersey of his favourite Hockey team went away with her — making Shawn’s hand itch to find home on that body, taking back what’s his and what he wants to be his.

“Exactly,” He imitates Brian’s words. “Was.”

Brian says nothing, feeling defeated. His brows only lift while his eyes close, knowing that he can’t fight Shawn when he’s like this. Obsessed.

“You should come too,” He invites, putting the tip of his bottle inside his mouth to hold it while he pushes the door open. “Heard–Djulia–iths–gonha–be–ther’.”

His guitar case flies to the backseat along with his backpack, Shawn stepping to the side so Brian can tuck his stuff into the car too.

“I have no fucking idea of what you just said,” Brian tosses his bag while pointing one finger to Shawn. “But I’m not leaving my mates behind because of some girl.”

This time, the one to lift eyebrows is Shawn. His gaze narrows Brian as he hangs the driver’s door open.

“First, you know she’s not some girl,” He corrects. “Second, Julia is gonna be there. It’s a pool party, dumbass.”

While Brian walks to the passenger’s door, it’s like magic. Julia is out there, walking–dancing outside the campus with her friends around her, singing whatever song that was. His blue eyes can’t drift away from her until she’s disappearing behind the cars parked.

“Pool party?” He asks distractedly. “See, that’s the part I hadn’t understood before. I mean, I love football but you know I never say no to a party.”

Message from +44 20…: Hi!! You left before I could even ask for your number…

Y/N gets out of the shower to immediately find her phone buzzing and ringing. The screen doesn’t show the entire text, but she doesn’t need to think that much to figure it out. Opening the app, she finds a second message popping up right after.

+44 20…: I got it from the party poster, I hope you don’t mind

Her bottom lip gets trapped between her teeth, a stupid smiling drawing her face as the profile photo loads. There he is. Messy damp curls atop of a babyface, glasses in front of those chocolate eyes and bare chest. Whew. Typing, feeling like a teenager as her stomach gets butterflies, she can notice the way her breathing goes unpatterned.

You: hey, london boy. there’s no problem! i’m glad you did 😇

It’s fun to Y/N how the text got instantly seen, the ‘typing…’ showing up below the new saved contact’s name in seconds.

Tom (Empshire): 👀👀👀 Hahaha That’s good to know. I’m really looking forward to your party tomorrow

You: you’re gonna make it? that’s perfect 💓

Tom (Empshire): Of course I am! Wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling

Unconsciously, Y/N’s legs clench together just to the imagination of his accent speaking these words loud and clear to her. Even with the dripping hair and body wrapped by just a towel, she jumps on her bed before she falls to the floor.

Tom (Empshire): Do I need to bring something?? Like beers and stuff

You: not really. unless u wanna drink something specific but as long as you’re here… just don’t forget your suit, darling 😛

If she only knew that Tom was exactly how she was picturing… Bare chest, wearing glasses, damp hair and thrown onto the sofa with a boyish grin. Tom honestly couldn’t think about smooth ways to flirt with her, he felt too intimidated — almost like Tom wasn’t Tom. Who would’ve guessed that Tom Holland could watch his moves to talk with a girl?

Tom (Empshire): I won’t haha

Then he couldn’t resist.

Tom (Empshire): Anyways, can’t wait to see you again… It was lovely to meet you earlier today. Good night, pretty one!

With burning cheeks and racing heart, Y/N twists in bed as she holds her phone for dear life. Coming back to the Empshire University fell flat at first, but with the taste of London still stuck in her life somehow, this looks as interesting as being in the United Kingdom itself — with a summertime way more catching than the winter. Her limbs couldn’t stop pulsing and the anticipation ran along her most sensitive spots mercilessly, making her thighs tighten even harder with a big smile tilting up the corners of her swollen lips from all the biting.

You: good night, t. can’t way to see you too. it’ll be awesome.

taglist of girlfriends: @lostinspidey – @goldenmndes – @shawnsunflower – @jawnjendes – @itrocksmysocks – @emilyxkate – @tell-me-when-ur-ready – @particularnervous – @grayxzabdixfer – @shawnssongs – @arypesanchez – @shawnmendes-s – @shawnsheaven – @mylifeisafxingmess – @perfectywrong – @whysparker – @blairscott

tagging mutuals [if you wanna be untagged, please sorry in advance & let me know]: @mcuspidey – @devilmendes – @snowflakeparker – @strangertingle – @honeyrosemuffins.

#tom holland #shawn mendes #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #mine #ficsofmine #series

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itsgonnabe-brian-may · 6 years ago

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Finals Week Forgetfulness

// Gwil x reader

wc: 1.5k

I hope you don't mind but I was loosely inspired by @sweetlygwilym & as a science person I need more sciency y/n on my dash. Also, this fic was born out of pure procrastination so its trash but that okay, It's a lil blurb and fluffy.

Tags: @joemhazzello

Today was Friday and Monday was the start of your last round of finals for the year. But they weren’t done yet and you needed to study, so you dragged yourself out of bed. Though the peacefulness of it coaxed you back. Your boyfriend, Gwilym, still sound asleep. You had gotten out of bed before Gwil, which was a rarity. Gwilym woke to an empty bed, initial confusion was replaced by the realization that it must be finals week. With a groan he pulled himself from the duvet, having the same thought as you. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he pulled on his attire for the day. Next, he padded into the kitchen in search of caffeine that he desperately needed.

It was hard not to notice your frame hunched over your books, almost like getting closer to the pages allowed you to absorb the information quicker.

“Studying already I see,” Gwil mused pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“Mhm,” you mumbled back barley lifting your gaze from your textbook, not wanting to lose focus.

A low chuckle escaped his lips before placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of you. Thin steam whisps carried the sent to your nose, the sent alone was almost more effective in waking you up than the actual coffee.

“God, your a blessing,” you smiled up at him and taking a sip. You couldn’t help let out a groan of pleasure. It was the start to a long day, long weekend. However, you’ve been through it before and it was your last round of finals before finally getting your degree. Giving you a burst of motivation. It also helped that you had Gwil, he would always make sure you slept and ate. Having been together for roughly 2 years, around 4 weeks of finals, you guys had a routine. You would get up at the crack of dawn, steal one of Gwilym’s sweaters and pair them with leggings, and study all day. Barely acknowledging people outside of the ones mentioned in your textbook. Normally you’d kick Gwil out to stop the distractions but today he was full booked with Interviews, so making sure he wasn’t bothering you wasn’t going to be an issue, not that he was an issue.

Throughout the day your coffee cup refilled and emptied as papers became more and more scattered. A half eaten sandwich sat beside your text books. The table had been turned from a place of gathering for people to a place of gathering of notes, notebooks, random study sheets, and highlighters. Lots of highlighters. All laid about haphazardly. But you were too absorbed into your studies to notice or care. Your passion for your major made it so much easier to study. You had gotten your Bachelors of Science and worked for a few years before deciding you wanted to go back to school and get your Masters Degree. It wasn't really going to advance your career but you enjoyed it, which is all that matters. You were lucky to have Gwil as your number one supporter, even if he understood nothing that came out of your lips when you got excited and went on a tangent. Normally, you'd catch on and apologize, but Gwil just shut you up with a kiss because he found your smarts incredibly hot. Just not on finals week.

Gwil’s day was definitely more exciting than yours. The 3 interviews he had scheduled turned out to be a blast. Plus anytime he could get with the full cast of Bohemian Rhapsody was a good time. Though he was mostly excited to get back home, maybe a little anxious, but mostly excited. Today was the day that Brian and Anita May were coming over for dinner as a thank you from both you and Gwil. Mostly Gwil, because there was no way he could have done his job without the immensely helpful and kind guidance of Brian.

You were also excited and planned an elaborate meal, except you had forgotten. Caught up into your studies was an understatement. So when the door opened and you heard Gwil come in laughing you perked up slightly. However, it wasn't until you heard two more voices chime in that you stood up pushing the chair out of the way and walked to the hall.

“Gwil, love, is that you— Shit“ you called running a hand through your messy hair. The last part was muttered under your breath as you suddenly became self-conscious of your appearance and the mess of study materials scattered about.

The 3 turned in your direction pausing their conversation to exchange greetings.

Brian gave a small wave in your direction, trying to hold back his laughter at your frazzled state.

“Y/N, it’s wonderful to see you again,” Anita spoke up pulling you into a hug as you silently thanked the gods that this wasn’t your first time meeting the pair. Brian was next to pull you into a hug, eyeing the mess of papers on the table.

Gwilym just pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You forgot didn’t you,” He chuckled quietly.

“Yea... I guess I got to caught up in studying,” you laughed shyly and moved to clean it up. However, Brian beat you to it. His curiosity had gotten the best of him and was already glancing at the math and physics problems that filled each page. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as he delicately picked up your notebook.

“Physics?” Brian guessed looking up at you with a kind.

“Yea, I’m actually about to get my Masters,” you explained sheepishly busying your embarrassed hands by gathering loose sheets of paper. You were no stranger to who Brian was and his PhD in Astrophysics. Sure you admired the man for being an absolutely brilliant musician and kind man, but you were more impressed with his passion and intelligence. The rest of the cleaning process was halted by conversation. The two of you quickly began discussing complex theories and laws. Gwil was kind enough to place a glass in wine in your hands, but it went untouched as you and Brian needed both hands to talk & visualize things.

"You understand anything of what they're talking about?" Anita asked Gwil as she helped prepare a simple salad.

"Not a bloody word," He laughed happily.

"Oh good, glad someone's with me," she responded patting his shoulder gently and laughing about something to herself.

Eventually, dinner was ready and the conversation shifted to anything and everything. Then the conversation moved to the living room where more wine was poured and more topics were brought up. You had drifted closer and closer to Gwil throughout the evening. Now you were pressed into his side on the couch, nursing a glass of Merlot talking to Brian about particle physics in stars. Again you two had fallen down a wormhole, though there's no physical evidence that they exist, of science-based conversation. Gwil had his arm wrapped around you and watched you admirably, still not understanding a bloody word. As much fun as the night had been you couldn't stop suppressing your yawns every 5 minutes. You had been up for at least 20 hours at this point, and the Merlot was not helping. Thankfully Anita noticed and kindly bid Brian that it was in fact time to go, for real this time. As each time they had attempted to part conversation drew them back. And no, it wasn't just the physics theories. Gwil and Brian had shared the same intensity conversations about guitars and books.

"Thank you for coming, I'm sorry It wasn't the nicest but I hope you still had fun," You apologized as you hugged goodbye.

"Nonsense! it was lovely, thank you for inviting us over," Anita smiled kindly.

"No, I believe it you who we thank, especially during precious studying time," Brian said sending a wink in your direction.

"Either way, thank you for coming, it was lovely having you," Gwil added finishing up the thank you's and they left.

As soon as the door was closed and locked you practically melted into his arms. With a gentle swoop, you were in his arms and on your way to the bed you had waited to return to all day. You lazily pulled off your leggings and clambered into bed, immediately resting your head on Gwil's chest.

"It blows my mind that you can be so smart and cute, I don't know what I did to have you in my life," He breathed out pressing gentle kisses to the forehead.

"I love you Gwil, especially when you put up with my studies," you murmured tilting your chin to look up at him.

Instead of responding he connected your lips to his. The kiss was lazy but filled with admiration and love. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you blissfully allowed him in. Your body fell heavy and all stress from the day disappeared like your fingers in Gwil's brown hair. There were no ulterior intentions to the show of affection, just pure love and admiration. When you pulled away you placed a small kiss to his cheek before driting off into the peace. Hoping to find solace in it for as long as you could before dawn came and you were forced to finally face the mess of papers still on the kitchen counter. Where sitting on top of the notebook a pale colored sticky note saying "Wishing you the best on your finals - Bri" would be found.

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #brian may x reader #gwilym lee #brian may #professor!gwil #queen imagines #queen x reader #gwil x reader #gwilym imagine #gwil lee x reader #gwil imagine

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the-rovarians · 6 years ago

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Some Information on Rovarians

- Basic Appearance/Anatomy - *They look like the Spirit/Opportunity rovers, except for the following differences.

Average height-around six feet tall

Average weight-around 500 to 600 pounds

Two robotic humanoid arms with five-fingered hands

Midsection below the shoulders is thicker and slightly darker in color

Females have lighter-colored solar panels than males

Two pairs of eyes

One set of eyes (the bigger ones) sees like we do. The “regular” eyes. The smaller ones see in infrared

The four camera eyes are what create facial expression, with shutters and apertures.

Their voices are synthesized, but still sound completely human, making it harder for others to write them off as just robots. They're beyond that, they're people

The solar panels can fold and unfold at their owner's will, allowing parents to carry the youngest ones on their backs

- “Reproduction” (Growing the Species) -

The actual Rovarian is a combination of the parents’ programming and code, which is what contains the personality, the “soul” (do not try it with Earth computers, it won’t work. They have special alien computers that do literally nothing else but this.)

Rovarian "sex" is just two people putting code into a computer.

The new code is generated by randomly selecting parts from each parent's code. These are NOT "designer babies".

Although traits are randomly selected, this doesn't mean the child could end up with an extra arm or missing eyes or anything.

The new child's code is then sent to special replicators that produce the frame, program it with the child's new code and activated.

The child “grows” as their code and programming evolves and matures.

They start out as little Sojourner models, as their programming isn’t yet complex enough to handle a big adult body.

They stay that way from “birth” to early toddler age (about 1 or 2 years for humans) then transition to a miniature version of the adult body.

The old frame is then reused for another child, or is recycled for its resources (yeah, these guys are way smarter with their resources than a lot of today’s humans)

They continue through gradually larger versions of this frame until they’re in the adult one, which on average is somewhere around 6 feet tall (of course there are 5 and 7 foot area outliers.)

When a Rovarian dies, their frame is either recycled (for another Rovarian or for resources) or buried, depending on the wishes of the family and/or the deceased person's last requests.

This is the way historical figures are remembered. They are interned either beneath or inside their respective monuments.

- General Society Roles -

Once they reach adulthood, they’ve been schooled and educated in all the stuff that everyone needs to know.

About a Martian year (1.88 Earth years) after the transition to the adult frame, they either take on a profession as a civilian, enter the government in some way, or join the Rovarian equivalent of Starfleet (some choose to join Starfleet itself) where they eventually get posted to a ship and captain, such as Captain Kiali of the Rovarian flagship Artax.

They generally choose their names from stars (Admiral Sirius), constellations (soldiers Centaurus and Crux), or other astronomical bodies (Ensign Messier, ambassador Lady Carina).

Metal bands worn on the upper arm indicate rank, department, and specialty. Some may also have an insignia for a specific ship on their rank band.

One does not need to be in government, military, or fleet to have department and specialty bands. For example, general practice doctors will have Medical department bands, surgeons will have Medical department bands and Surgery specialty bands

- Historical Events and Achievements -

The last of a dying race found the twins (Spirit and Opportunity), and, knowing they were going to die, decided to save the rovers, giving them their own life force, as well as their own technological knowledge of how to use resources they had stored on Mars. Very little is known about this race, except Spirit and Opportunity’s hazy memories of them. Rovarian historians suspect they purposefully erased all records of themselves, though why is unclear.

The Rovarians claimed Mars as their homeworld and an evolved Spirit and Opportunity as their co-leaders.

Before official First Contact, a human military-esque group of xenophobic extremists planning to wipe them out before they could “invade and enslave us” (which never crossed their minds) ambushed a landing party with the twins (Spirit and Opportunity), who came back to visit the place and people who made them.

The twins were the only survivors, and the group stole their ship, using it to lure others to Earth, where cells of the group waited.

The Rovarian crews were overwhelmed and slaughtered, and the ships used to wage a short but bloody war on the Rovarians, with battles fought on both planets (Earth and Mars), and in space.

At one point, NASA’s Reconnaissance Orbiter took pictures of a Martian plain littered with fallen Rovarian warriors, as well as their living friends and family searching for their bodies.

Some humans did side with them, and the conflict, while essentially ending in a draw, led to Earth working with them instead of against, as it was made clear they have no desire or reason to invade us.

Opportunity was severely, almost fatally wounded in one of the war’s battles, but the JPL rover teams turned the lab into a makeshift OR and were able to save him (after figuring out how to airlift/transport him safely and without further injuring him)

JPL was on the Rovarians’ side from the start of the war, since they already kinda felt like the rovers were more than machines,

They're the ones who got the rest of NASA to take the Rovarians' side, which helped turn the tide of the war, since the extremists then had a harder time communicating with their space and Mars forces,

NASA was in charge of almost everything space, and almost nothing got to or through space without them knowing it.

Add to that NASA also gained access to Rovarian tech, which enabled them to make it even MORE difficult for the extremists to function by cutting off communication completely.

As a result, the stolen ships had no warning and no time to prepare before a Rovarian fleet showed up to apprehend them.

An important feat of theirs: Massive magnetic field generators at the poles, so they could give Mars an M-class atmosphere. This makes trade and diplomatic matters much easier, since most species require such an atmosphere.

Having advanced alien tech, they were able to pick up on pretty much everything we were doing. And I mean EVERYTHING. That’s why the Rigel filter (named for its inventor) was created. It blocked out all the offensive (to a Rovarian) communications humans send. (it’s basically a spam filter (that actually works) on steroids

- Social Customs, Beliefs, and Daily Life -

Water and food are replicated as needed for visitors.

Farming is kind of a waste, as the whole species feeds off of solar energy (which, thanks to advances in Rovarian medicine and science, can be stored in much larger amounts in the same size battery)

There are artificial solar energy generators for emergencies.

The Rovarians actually find the human obsession with sex/sexuality/female bodies to be super weird and a little disturbing/off-putting

It's actually HUGELY insulting to make sexual comments to them.

Relationships are based on feelings for the other person.

They actually think the sex obsession is what holds humans back from advancing more quickly.

They avoided money. They do more of a large scale barter system, and everybody contributes to the society in various ways.

They have stores of other species' currency, but it's only used for trade with said species.

This way, nobody ends up in poverty and there's no 1 percent elite.

Even healthcare is given based on how urgent your need is. (the field of regular psychology is still needed. These are people, not just programs, and people always need regular psychology)

The system works smoothly, and crime is mainly just thievery and vandalism (because every species is going to have born criminals.)

Stuff like murder, which is very rare, is obviously still a crime, as is most of the major stuff ( dealing in illegal contraband, scams, espionage, etc.)

Things like racing shuttlecraft around planets are common activities anyone could do.

- Rovarian Stardate System -

The first two digits of the stardate indicate the century

The second two indicate the exact year (Earth year*)

The third two are the Earth month

The decimal point number is the exact day.

For example, this stardate, 215004.05, translates to April 5, 2050, in the 21st century.

They use Earth time because Mars time is only practical for those actually on Mars. For those on ships, it doesn’t make much sense. (this is just a cryptic way of saying that I am too hopeless at math to convert everything to Mars time. There’s lots of decimals involved in that.)

- Arts -

Music

No wind instruments

Non-electronic music consists of strings, percussion, and vocals (singing)

They do also play electronic music (think Daft Punk, Basshunter, or any other techno artist)

The overall style can range from sounding like Celtic or New Age to sounding like techno or dance music, or anything in between. It depends on who’s playing.

Architecture

Very futuristic, but with sharp, boxy design and edges

Lots of metals and glass for materials, very clean and shiny

No stairs, it’s all ramps or lifts (elevators)

Some buildings, usually those with huge crowds moving through, such as the spaceport, have moving sidewalks and moving ramps (Rovarian version of an escalator.

Cities have very tall buildings, thanks to the planet’s lower gravity making it easier to lift materials up to those heights.

Many buildings (especially the tallest ones) are designed to light up at night, some having patterns of color change or light movement

A plaque inside the main entrance of the building credits the architect, as well as everyone who helped construct it

Sculpture

As with architecture, metals are the primary material used

Depending on the artist, the piece can be something ethereal-looking, something futuristic, or something inspired by Earth art styles

There are many installment pieces, especially in cities. These can be inside buildings or out in parks and other public areas.

A plaque or sign placed with the piece credits the artist and anyone who helped construct it.

For smaller sculptures, a signature from the artist can be found directly on the piece itself

Visual Art

There are Rovarians who draw and paint, both traditionally and digitally

Many digital artists like to animate their work

They may also include an animated version of their signature

Traditional painters, along with ordinary paints, will also use metallic and/or glowing paints in their work

Like traditional Earth artists, they sign their paintings. The same is true for Rovarian drawing artists.

Some Rovarians practice textile arts such as weaving fabric, as this is a commodity that can be good for trading with other species

Other media for Rovarian visual artists include, but are not limited to: holograms, fiber-optics, LEDs, found items (for “upcycling”)

Theatre/Dance

Yes, these do exist for Rovarians

The first ever live production was a retelling of the twins’ story through dance, with singers and musicians providing the music

Costumes are typically very elaborate and eyecatching, unless the production calls for more subtlety.

Dance style is usually smooth, flowing, and graceful, though it can also be sharp, snappy, and energetic.

Literature

Very similar to Earth literature, except that the genre of erotica does not exist

Some writers will collaborate with an artist to create a graphic novel or a holo-novel

FINALLY got the information on these guys up.

Photos courtesy of @nasa , myself (the craptastic drawing), and an artist whose name I couldn’t find, but I know it’s someone awesome because of that Opportunity painting

#sci-fi #aliens #original species #rovarian #nasaAU #mars rover

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chemicalmagecraft · 6 years ago

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The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 4

A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews. They sustain me. To those of you who gave encouraging words and recommended other works for me to see, thank you guys especially. Even though I don't know where to legally watch Kenichi and NEEDLESS. Just saying, this is, in my opinion, the part where this story is going to start picking up. Also please just pretend that all the math checks out. It'd be way too annoying to calculate the exact HP and MP Izuku should have based on actual math... Did I mention that I hate math? In hindsight, this was kind of a bad fanfic for me to decide to write considering how much I don't like math... too late now! (In all seriousness, though, if any of you could figure out an actual formula for me to use when calculating HP and MP and stuff, that'd make my job SO much easier and I'd be really grateful.)

Shout out to Ryuuji's The Games We Play! Again, go read it if you haven't.

xoxoxo

The next breakthrough came about three months later.

I continued to grind my mental stats and any skills I could without making too much noise in the dead of night. Turns out that part of Gamer's Mind is apparently the ability to stay up all night long without needing to sleep, which was very useful. That night, I was doing some antiderivatives in my head when I heard two pings.

Through rigorous studying, your INT has increased by one!

The skill 'Mana Affinity' has been created through INT rising above 50.

Mana Affinity (Passive) LV1 EXP 0.00%

Mana. A mysterious power that allows people to do extraordinary things. This skill increases the user's sensitivity and control with that power, granting them an affinity with mana.

10% increase in mana recovery rate.

5% increase in total MP.

5% increase to magic attack.

5% increase to magic defense.

30% increase to MP-related skill effects.

I blinked. Then, I slowly got up and silently did the "You Got The Thing!" pose from Zelda. "Dah-dah-dah-daaaaaaaah," I whispered. That was a game-changer. If I got a skill like that for increasing every stat past fifty, and perhaps even other intervals, then that would be very, very useful. I brought up my stats.

Name: Midoriya Izuku

Title: The Gamer

Level: 6

HP: 1550/1550

MP: 2100/2100

STR: 32

VIT: 36

DEX: 34

INT: 51

WIS: 45

LUK: 30

POINTS: 5

MONEY: 0 Yen

SKILL FRAGMENTS: 3500

Definitely something to look forward to. It looked like I had to get the stats above fifty, and not just at fifty. I noted that my WIS was already approaching fifty. I'd ended up using Meditation a lot, seeing as it restored my HP and MP and I could use it anywhere that I needed to wait without drawing too much attention. I decided to just grind WIS at every possible opportunity until I passed fifty. I closed my eyes and began meditating.

A few days of Meditation grinding later, I finally got it.

The skill 'Nature Affinity' has been created through rising WIS above 50.

Nature Affinity (Passive) LV1 EXP 0.00%

The power of the forces of is nature great. The wrath of nature has leveled cities and decimated towns. This skill increases the user's sensitivity and control over those forces, granting them an affinity with the elements.

25% increase to mana recovery rate.

10% increase to elemental attack.

10% increase to elemental defense.

50% increase to element-related skill effects.

I grinned. Sure, I didn't as of that moment have any elemental skills, but I knew I could get some. In fact, I decided to do just that the next day.

xoxoxo

Despite how tiring it was, those long days I spent training with All Might and Kacchan became precious memories to me. Not only was I receiving help from All Might, but I was finally getting to be close to Kacchan again. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed having him as a friend until I got him back. Sure, he was... abrasive... but you could see how much he really cared if you looked closely enough.

The thing that I loved the most about those training days, however, was that I could finally use my Quirk. True to his words, All Might showed off his teaching license and had us sign some forms that said that he'd be officially tutoring us to use our Quirks the ten months before the entrance exam. With that, we were allowed to use our Quirks on the beach so long as he was around and we didn't use our Quirks on anyone that wasn't part of the training.

Kacchan came flying towards me, sparking palm facing me. "DIIIIIIE!" he screamed. His explosion, however, was blocked by a blue barrier that shimmered into existence around me. It shattered, but not before protecting me from all of the damage. "I still think that that's fucking annoying, by the way," he said as he landed back on the ground.

Mana Dome (Active) LV 28 EXP 32.95% MP 45

A spherical barrier made of mana used to protect the user.

Protects against some damage.

Additional 45 MP used per minute.

A useful skill that I'd managed to puzzle out early on from seeing its description in the Skill Grimoir, which I'd been grateful for because I hadn't had to spend Skill Fragments on it. "If it works, it works," I told him, then adjusted my stance. "Now come at me."

"AND FUCKING HOW!" He blast-propelled himself at me, firing a second blast in just his right hand to make him spin for a punch. It would've been a good move... had a small sheet of mana slightly thicker than my Mana Dome not appeared in front of my blocking arm. "FUCK!"

Mana Shield (Active) LV 24 EXP 98.67%

An adaptation of Mana Dome that forsakes full-body protection for efficiency and increased durability.

Has higher durability than Mana Dome.

50 MP used per square meter of shield per minute.

"Again, if it works, it works," I repeated with a cocky grin. This caused him to scream psychotically and charge at me. Kacchan was still so easy to rile up. He threw more of those enhanced punches, and I blocked each one. I then shot a blue rope of mana at him, which bound around his body.

Bind (Active) LV 13 EXP 5.45% MP 5

A skill to tie an enemy with a rope made of mana. Can only be used by those who have a talent in manipulating mana.

I'd made the skill after making a sort of rope with my mana and using it to tie up Kacchan in a spar. Actually, I got a skill called Mana Rope first, but using it to tie up Kacchan gave me a skill called Bind. "You still have too much of a temper, Kacchan. That won't be too good for hero work, even if you've been improving a lot," I said as I snapped my fingers. The Bind dissolved on cue.

Name: Bakugou Katsuki

Title: Lord Explosion Murder

Level: 21

HP: 2800/2800

MP: 1750/1750

STR: 42

VIT: 46

DEX: 55

INT: 37

WIS: 25

LUC: 14

Quirk: Explosion

Emotions: Angry

Fire Affinity: 50

His stats were coming along nicely. I'd noticed that I could see a thing that said fire affinity in his stat screen after I got Nature Affinity, probably from being more sensitive to the elements. "Shut the fuck up, Deku. You of all people don't get to say anything about what is or isn't good for hero work. Now heal me, my fists feel like I just got in a boxing match with a brick wall." I sighed and walked over to put my glowing green hands on his, causing a similar glow to spread to his hands as the bruises faded.

Healing Hands (Active) LV 3 EXP 54.86% MP 50

The power of a charitable soul to channel mana into a target's body to heal them.

55 HP restored, removes minor illnesses, debuffs, and negative conditions.

The second skill that I actually spent fragments on. It'd cost me 1500 and needed me to have 55 WIS before I could get it, but it seemed like it'd be worth it at higher levels. Or I could just spam. I'd immediately tested to see what it'd do to All Might when I got it. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near the level needed to come even close to restoring him to his former glory, but he told me that he felt better and the skill got EXP off of it, so that was a plus. I'd ended up regularly using it on him as grinding.

"Thanks," Kacchan grumbled. "Now let's move on to regular old hand-to-hand."

"Though seriously, why do you know martial arts?" I asked.

"Hey, fuck you, man! Quirk Fist is a good discipline! All the kata are adaptable enough to be used in conjunction with Quirks and it teaches you the kind lateral thinking needed to use Quirks in combat! You've seen my moves! And I've already seen you improve since you started! Now get in your stance!" And so it continued.

xoxoxo

After a long day of sparring and the leveling up of multiple martial arts-related skills (as well as Physical Endurance), I walked over to All Might. "I've decided how I want to spend the rest of my Skill Fragments," I told him as I healed him.

"Very good, young Midoriya! What are you going to get?" he asked, then handed me the Skill Grimoir. I opened to book to one of the bookmarks that All Might had placed.

Summon Basic Elemental (Active) Skill Fragments: 2000

Long ago, man learned of the power of nature and learned to harness it. Some learned to not only harness nature's power, but give it life of its own and summon it at will.

Elemental's power dependent on skill level, WIS, and elemental affinity.

"I'm pretty sure that the ability to make elementals could be really useful, at least from what the skill says," I said. "I'm still not sure why the skill's at such a low price, but I'm not really complaining." I placed my hand on the skill.

You are attempting to buy the skill 'Summon Basic Elemental.' This will cost you 2000 Skill Fragments. Confirm purchase?

I hit the "yes" button. As with the other skills, the words turned into light and flew into me. I frowned. "What's wrong, young Midoriya?"

"What's Deku working on?" Kacchan came up and asked, sipping his water bottle.

"The elemental summoning one," I told him. "It looks like summoning an elemental for the first time is a lot more complex than just using the skill. There's a whole ritual that I have to do get a contract with an elemental."

"Well then let's get started," Kacchan said. "Can't be too hard."

I looked up at the sky. "Yeah, but I can also tell that the ritual will make me unconscious for several hours, and it's getting late. I'd rather not worry my mom by coming home super late."

"Okay, so let's go do it at your house. That way your mom knows where you are."

I thought about it. "Okay. I take it you want to watch?"

He shrugged. Eh, why not? I don't have anything better to do." As we walked home he asked me, "Hey, Deku. What does that elemental-summoning skill even do?"

"I can summon elemental... magic things, I guess... that can control whatever element they're tied to. If I have more than one type of elemental, then for the moment I'd only be able to have one active, though that'll change as the skill levels up."

"So you can make multiple?"

"Yeah, but I have to have an affinity for whatever element I'm using. I gained a skill called Elemental Affinity that gives me bonuses to using elemental powers and other stuff, which allowed me to make an affinity that I can use for it. Actually, my Observe tells me that you have a fire affinity that's five times as high as my affinity."

He scoffed. "Well no shit. I've got a violently pyrogenic Quirk. I'd need it to not blow my hands off. Probably." He was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I've been meaning to ask, a lot of your skills, the way their descriptions read, it almost seems to imply that other people can use your skills."

"Did you read my Gamer journal?" I asked him. "How did you even read my journal? I've kept it in my inventory except for the times I wanted to read or write in it."

"I looked over your shoulder while you read from it a few times, dummy. It's actually a really interesting read. What, didya think I snuck in while you slept and somehow got you to open your inventory and take out your journal in your sleep?"

"That wouldn't work," I told him, then sneakily snuck my journal out of my inventory without anyone seeing. "Though if you want to read my journal you could just ask."

He happily took the journal and started looking through it. "Thanks, but you didn't answer my original question. What the fuck is up with your skills?"

"I honestly don't get it. It... seems like it. Heck, the Summon Basic Elemental ritual has a mention of a contract from ages past, so who knows."

He nodded, then turned the page. "What does it feel like to use mana, then? Maybe it feels different from using a Quirk. Or similar. Or whatever."

I thought about it for a while. "It feels like taking from a well of power, then directing it in the way I need to. When I use the skills, though, it feels like the power is being directed in the way it's supposed to go. If I concentrate enough, though, I can... 'divert' the 'flow' to do something else."

"Huh," he said, then looked at his hand. "That's kinda what Explosion feels like, but it only ever goes to my hands. Weird."

"Hey, are you done with my book? I'd like to put an entry in for Summon Basic Elemental." He grumbled but handed my book over. I began writing the entry down with a pencil that I snuck out of my inventory.

"So what Elemental are you getting?" he asked.

"Huh?"

Kacchan scoffed. "You can only get one at a time, so I'm guessing you're only going to get one, even if you could probably get more."

I smiled and put my finger on my lips. "It's a surprise, Kacchan."

"It's earth or air isn't it?"

I stared at him for a second, then cleared my throat and said, "I will neither confirm nor deny your theory, but what makes you think that?"

"You said that your INT and WIS are both over fifty by now, so you're probably smart enough to know to start out with an elemental that you've always got material to work with. Sure, you could totally figure out some sort of fireball spell, but that'd be more MP used for something less versatile, so that's something you're gonna save 'til later. The only options that you're going to have a lot of are air, which if you don't have it then everyone's dead, and earth, which probably includes rocks, minerals, and maybe even refined metals. Both are more readily accessible than fire and water. Of course, if there're more elements than the four classic ones, then maybe element five is also a good option, so I don't know." Wow, he was putting his high INT score to work.

"I thought about making a cheese elemental, but I didn't think it'd be that gouda," I replied.

"Deku I swear to God."

"We're here," I said. We'd just walked up to my house. "Let's eat dinner before I do the ritual."

Mom was happy to have Kacchan over for dinner. "I'm glad to see you boys getting along after so long," she said as she set curry on the table. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you come here today, Katsuki-kun?"

Kacchan grinned. "Deku's gonna do some sort of magic thing and I wanted to watch." Mom looked at me for answers.

"I got a skill called Summon Basic Elemental that lets me use things called elementals to control the four classical elements. To use it, however, I have to perform a ritual that works as a sort of 'contract' with the elemental, and that might make me fall asleep."

"Oh," Mom said. "Okay... I guess that's okay, just brush your teeth before you do it. Also, you wouldn't mind if I watched, would you?"

"No, go right ahead," I said.

Later, after I brushed my teeth and Mom and Kacchan joined me in the living room, I laid my journal on the table and opened it up to the page on Summon Basic Elemental... or rather, the second and third pages, which were occupied almost completely by the summoning circle needed to perform the ritual. Two concentric circles, one only slightly smaller than the other, and with a five-pointed star in them positioned so that the points were all on the outer circle. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the air around me, how it felt...

Air Affinity: 10

...and on my new air affinity. "I, Midoriya Izuku, call upon the ancient contract of ages past to summon thee," I chanted, blushing at the way it was worded. Kacchan snickered. "I hope you heed my call. Come, Air Elemental!"

"Fucking called it!" Kacchan yelled. Something in the air stirred. Despite the fact that we were indoors, the wind began to pick up. It all swirled into the center of the circle, forming a miniature tornado. The tornado collapsed in on itself, the air solidifying into the form of a young boy with blue robes and short hair and wings that looked like they were made of varying types of cloud. Kacchan started laughing hysterically. "HAHAHAHAHA! HE'S FUCKING TINY!" The boy was also small enough that I could hold him in the palm of my hand. Despite his small stature, I could feel a powerful presence coming from him. He looked at me with piercing blue eyes, making me feel like I was staring into the sky.

"I'll begin in accordance with the ancient rituals. My real name is Midoriya Izuku. You have heard my true name; please tell me yours." As soon as I finished sayning it, I felt myself pull apart, scattering into millions of pieces. I flew away, soaring over hills, mountains, valleys, and even oceans. I was no longer bound to a material form. I was free to go wherever I wanted, even if it meant everywhere. I was as free as the wind!

I was the wind.

I saw the living room again, except I was gone, replaced by a swirling hurricane in human shape. As I watched, the hurricane dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

And then I was back to normal. The air elemental was sitting on my hand. "I am here," he said. "My name is Halitus. You are Midoriya Izuku?"

"Yes."

"We are one, as the ancient contract dictates."

"Our souls are one."

"I am Halitus."

"I am Midoriya Izuku."

"Until our souls meet their ends," he started to say.

"We will be forever one," I finished with a feeling of awe.

"Should you ever need wind beneath your wings, call upon my power," he said with a bow, then dissolved into the air... or back to the air.

"...Okay," I said, and then felt like I was falling as everything went black.

That night, I dreamt of a gigantic storm, ravaging the whole world.

xoxoxo

Katsuki stared at the book sitting on his desk. "This thing might as well be a fucking spellbook with how much detail Izuku put into it." He flipped through a few more pages, soaking in all the knowledge that was present. "Fuck, this thing is a spellbook." He closed it. Ever since Deku had said described his mana, he'd been curious. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the power that lay within him. He'd drawn upon it so many times, using it to ignite the sweat on his hands and amplify the blasts. He'd never questioned it. It was just what his Quirk felt like. But now, now he had a theory. He drew upon the energy, but this time he didn't let it follow the path it normally took when he used his Quirk. It took a few tries, but he managed to make it rise to his hand without interacting with his sweat. He opened his eyes.

A blue glow was emanating from his right hand. He laughed. "Deku was right," he muttered to himself. He concentrated, and the mana consolidated into a small ball hovering above his hand. He thought for a moment, then concentrated on fire. What it felt like, what it looked like. He looked at the ball of mana and tried to combine it with the fire in his mind. The mana responded to his thoughts, changing from glowing blue energy to a ball of fire. Katsuki grinned. With his free hand, he opened the book back up to the page Deku had used earlier, the one with the magic circle on it. Deku, for whatever fucking reason, had even included the incantation needed to call the elemental. Not that Katsuki was complaining. He placed his right hand on the center. "I, Bakugou Katsuki, call upon the contract of ages past to summon thee," he intoned. He'd probably have been a little bit embarrassed by having to say that if any people were around to watch him.

Though, at the same time, the fact that he knew it was going to work really helped. "I hope you heed my call. Come, Fire Elemental." The fireball in his hand shifted, then began to change. It shrank down on itself, transforming into the shape of a young girl that could easily fit in Katsuki's palm. The girl had long, flame-colored hair that flowed down her back and glowed softly, with two pointed, yellow-furred ears of some sort of animal poking out the top. She had a yellow sundress with highlighting of similar coloring and glow to her hair, and, for whatever reason, she also had a tail made of fire. The girl looked at him with glowing, fire-colored eyes that made Katsuki feel like he was staring into a roaring inferno. He gulped. "I'll begin in accordance with the ancient rites. My real name is Bakugou Katsuki. I have told you my true name; please tell me yours." He felt himself begin to burn up, but it didn't hurt at all. He didn't become consumed by the fire but became it. He raged and raged and destroyed everything in his path. Entire forests were burnt to a crisp by him. He was fire itself. He saw himself, but he was made of white-hot flames.

And then he was back to normal. The fire elemental was exactly where she was before. "I am here," she said. "My name is Pyra. You are Bakugou Katsuki?"

"Yes."

"We are one, as the ancient contract dictates."

"Our souls are one."

"I am Pyra."

"I am Bakugou Katsuki."

"Until our souls meet their ends," she started to say.

"We will be forever one," Katsuki answered quietly.

"Should you ever need me to light your way, you need only call," she told him with a curtsy, then vanished in a burst of fire.

"Damn right I will," Katuki solemnly swore. He got up, then staggered. He didn't immediately pass out like Deku did, but he felt fucking drained. "Fuck that hits hard," he griped. "But why the hell didn't I wipe out like Deku?" He closed the journal, turned off his light, then went to bed.

That night he dreamt of a titanic monster of fire burning all that was in its path.

xoxoxo

A/N: Oh, snap! Sorry for the repetition, but I felt like elemental summoning is something to savor. Anyone who figures out what the designs of the elementals are supposed to be gets ten points, by the way. I was going to make this chapter a little longer, but I felt like that last bit was excellent cliffhanger material, so here we are! Don't worry, next chapter will be longer. Hopefully. As always, I'd like to say that I'm always open to constructive criticism. Also, if anyone would like to suggest skills, I'm definitely going to include any suggestions that I like enough, so do that if you want. Thanks for reading!

#The Gamer Hero Deku #Gamer Hero Deku #fanfiction #GHD CH 4 #BNHA

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iliketowrite1996 · 7 years ago

Text

Spaces and Secrets part 5

AUTHOR’S NOTE- I had to change something and I don’t know if it was specifically started, but you are about 24 and then 27 weeks along in this chapter!

Warning- mentions of legitimacy of the child, mentions of events from the Black Panther movie, family secrets and infidelity. Also, I wrote this with a cold so I may delete it later,

@greenswishbish gave me the inspiration for this chapter!

‘’I am confused,’’ Adanya looks to you, a frown on her face as she sips her glass of juice.

Ado is sitting next to her, munching on his after school snack.

‘’Honey, daddy’s friend Nisa and her daughter, Nyala, will be moving in to the palace,’’ you explain, holding Abioye close to you.

‘’But why,’’ she stresses.

After your press conference this morning, you and T’Challa decided that you needed to tell the children about Nyala and her before the news broke to the world, and the children found out like that. Which is why you are here, having a conversation more awkward than the one you did with the babies when you and T’Challa got divorced.

‘’Adanya, my daughter,’’ T’Challa signs, ‘’Ado, my son. You know that your mother and I love you, your baby brother, and the new baby very, very, very much. Yes?’’

‘’Yes, baba,’’ Adanya and Ado agree in unison.

‘’During the time that your mother and I were divorced… I dated someone else. And she came to me not long ago and said that she has a daughter.’’

‘’What does this have to do with us,’’ Ado looks confused, and you can tell that he is trying to understand why this is of any relevance to him.

You can also tell that Adanya has officially had enough.

‘’Wake up, Ado! Dad has another baby, not with momma. So, we have a baby sister that we don’t even really know,’’ she tells her brother, ‘’And that’s the lady and her baby living in the palace now.’’

‘’So what’s going to happen now,’’ Ado is turning to his sister, who is sitting there with an unreadable expression on her face.

‘’Momma and daddy are going to break up,’’ she finishes her juice, ‘’Can I be excused?’’

‘’Bast,’’ T’Challa sighs, ‘’Adanya, sweetheart, your mother and I will not be breaking up again. We are going to work it out.’’

‘’No,’’ she shakes her head, ‘’Everything has changed. I don’t see you anymore! You’ve already spent more time with your new daughter these last few days than you have with me!’’

‘’Adanya Udaku!’’

She’s running now, out of the dining hall and down the hallway.

T’Challa is standing, ready to go after her until you place a hand on his shoulder, ‘’Leave her be. She needs to process this.’’

You all do, but especially the children.

‘’Baba, that is our new baby sister?’’

‘’Yes, Ado. She is. But, rest assured, I do not love you or your sister or your brother any less. We will just have to make some changes. No matter what, though, your mother and I will do everything in our power to help you and your sister. To make this easier.’’

‘’Okay. So you and mommy are not breaking up again?’’

‘’We are not,’’ you reassure him, trying to bury the thought that had come up in your mind several times this week once again.

‘’Okay then. I am going to see how Adanya is doing. Can I be excused,’’ he leaves as soon as you nod, chasing after his sister.

‘’This is a mess, ‘’ T’Challa sighs, placing his head in his hands.

‘’It is. I won’t lie to you. But, hey, we've been through madness before. So, we just have to get the kids through this, and then we can focus on ourselves and our marriage.’’

Because, now, there is no way that Nisa is going away any time soon.

This was three weeks ago. Since then, trying to get into a normal routine has been challenging to say the least. The children were formally introduced to Nisa and Nyala the day after you told them the truth, and things have been different ever since.

There are only three things that you could all agree on: the children should spend as much time together as possible, none of you are to pit the children against each other, and no fighting in front of the children.

That’s how you ended up having breakfast together every morning, you and Ado and Adanya and Abioye on one side, Nyala and Nisa on the other side and T’Challa at the head of the table.

Things lately have been chaotic at best, silent at worst. The children are processing this. Well, Ado and Adanya are. Abioye and Nyala seem to be aware of a change, but they do not exactly process how their worlds have shifted. All of the children need a break, need a moment to acknowledge the fact that indeed, their world has shifted and things will not be the same. Even with the watered down version of the truth, they still seem to have more questions than you can answer.

Only a few truths remain: you and T’Challa love Abioye, Ado, and Adanya more than anything.

T’Challa will do his best to keep the peace.

And Nisa is the actual definition of trifling.

Nisa… Nisa is just a pain. She’s under your skin now, taking residence like an angry rash that you can’t relieve. Though you are trying to build a home from this brokenness, she’s making it quite difficult.

And today is no different.

‘’Does it hurt,’’ she questions you when the children are on their way down as she packed her own child into her high-chair.

‘’Does what hurt?’’

‘’Knowing that you’ll never quite be rid of me.’’

That was completely out of pocket.

But you are trying not to engage- in the interest of the baby.

‘’I’m choosing to ignore your remarks,’’ you tell her, trying to be the adult in the room since she’s gonna be a big, trifling baby about things.

‘’Does it hurt knowing that I shared that bed with him? That my lips touched his before yours ever could? That he has been mine long before he was ever yours? That those same sheets,’‘ she’s like a snake, slithering around you and ready to prey on you, voice low so that the babies won’t hear you, ‘‘ that he lays you down on every night are the ones that I was on top of with him? That just burns you, doesn’t it? That every time he was with you, he was thinking if me? That I’m the one he chose to come back to?’‘

You pull her to the side, farther away from the children so that they can not hear as they happily munch on their fruit.

‘’Does it hurt you knowing that he did choose you again, and, yet , I’m still the one with the ring on my finger? That we are determined to make this work? Because honey, lets not forget that he broke things off with you several years ago, not the other way around. Now I am trying to do right by you for that child’s sake. But I will not hesitate to have you removed from this palace if you do not check yourself. T’’Challa and I talked about this last night- that you want so badly to win that you’d do anything to get him to fall. You are the definition of a sabotage, Nisa. But if you think that I will let you wreck what he and I have worked so hard to painstakingly rebuild? Honey, you don’t know me. The Black Panther may be the protector of Wakanda, but I am the protector of these children. And, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re working through this mess. Besides- I am not the one that kept the child from him.’

Her head snaps over to look at you , and she narrows her eyes, ‘’I have my reasons.’’

‘’I bet you do,’’ you set a bowl on the table, ‘’Now stop it. I will not argue in front of these children.’’

She has her reasons, she says.’

Yeah. Sure she does.

Whatever they are, you are going to get to the bottom of it.

Because something just doesn't feel right here.

Ado and Adanya arrive then, carrying their backpacks and dressed in their school uniforms. They hug you, spare a glance at Nyala and Nisa and sit at the table.

‘’Say good morning, children,’’ you tell them, simply for the sake of installing diplomacy and politeness.

‘’Good morning,’’ Adanya does not look at Nisa as she begins to drink her juice.

‘’Morning, Ms. Nisa,’’ Ado nods to her, ‘’Hi, Nyala.’’

Things are tense to say the least. Adanya hasn’t really spoken to you much since the news broke. She responds in short sentences. When she is with you, she just sits quietly. Her teacher says she’s been closed off at school, that she doesn’t really engage with the other children and chooses to read during free activities time and recess instead.

‘’Hey,’’ you push some hair back, ‘’I like your hair today. Who did it?’’

‘’Thank you, momma. Auntie Shuri did it,’’ she reveals, proud of the hair pulled into a curly bun at the top of her head.

‘’Any plans for school today,’’ you notice Nisa watching you both as she feeds Nyala, glancing at you two every so often.

‘’I think we have a math test today,’’ she shrugs, ‘’Nothing important.’’

‘’What about you, Ado,’’ you question as you move Abioye’s cup of juice to pour him some more, ‘’What’s going on with you at school today?’’

‘’We are working on a garden! All of us are working in groups and each group plants a different thing,’’ he tells you, ‘’My group is planting flowers!’’

‘’That is so amazing, Ado! I can tell how excited you are. When do you guys think you’ll be done?’’

‘’We are working on it all of this week and showing it to the parents next week. Do you think that you and baba could come?’’

‘’I’m sure we can work that out,’’ you agree.

Ado beams at you then, the widest smile you’ve seen from in three weeks. He chats with you then, discussing his school day and what he will be doing as Adanya eats her breakfast, eyeing her little brother warily.

The children eat for about five more minutes before you rebind the that they need to be getting to school, and they take their dishes to the kitchen before leaving with Ayo and ready for the day.

You finish feeding Abioye, giving him to a nanny so that you can grab T’Challa can make it to your doctor’s appointment.

And so you can get away from Nisa.

Not that she needs to know that.

T’Challa Udaku is a man of his word. He keeps his promises, no matter how hard they are. So when he promised you that you’d work things out this time, he is determined to make it work. When he promised that he’d be there for his children, always, he advised that to include Nyala as well. He is determined to right his wrongs, to fix his mistakes, to take care of what he needs to.

But even the Black Panther, the hero and protector and king of Wakanda, is only human.

Even he needs some reassurance.

‘’Why are you so silent? We just heard that our baby is in excellent health. Even with all of the stress lately. What is wrong?’’

‘’I am sorry.’’

‘’Sorry for…’’

‘’For everything. For this mess that I have dragged you and the children in to. I just… I am trying to do the right thing on all counts. You see, I ran from it, or tried to, when Erik Killmonger made it here. I can not do that anymore. I am trying to do the right thing , but I feel like I am only making things worse.’’

‘’You are being hard on yourself,’’ you place a hand on his arm, ‘’Listen to me: you are human, T’Challa. Human. It is fine for you to make mistakes. You did not try to sweep this under the wrong, you are taking care of it. Everyone makes the choice that is right for them, and this was yours.’’

‘’Why,’’ he squeezes his eyes shut, ‘’Us… are we…’’

He trails off, but you have been with this man well over a decade. If anything, you know him better than he knows himself.

‘’We can’t let this tear us apart. Or our family,’’ you stress, taking T’Challa’s hand in yours, ‘’It won't’ be easy, and maybe it is not realistic, but I believe that we will get through this. Do you?’’

He opens his eyes, staring at your hand in his, ‘’I do.’’

‘’Great. Now, I think you need to have a certain talk with a certain princess.’’

He sighs, thinking about the conversation that he has been avoiding this far for the last three weeks.

‘’My love, I do believe that you are right,’’ he admits.

So, after he finishes all of his meetings and events for the day, he plans to go talk to the one person who he hasn’t during all of this.

Even if she doesn't want to talk to him.

He finds his oldest daughter in the palace garden after her school lessons or done for the day, reading a book and enjoying the sounds of nature.

‘’Adanya,’’ he speaks, startling her, ‘’Can I please talk to you.’’

‘’What is it, daddy,’’ she questions, bookmarking the page that she is on and setting it to the side.

She looks more and more like you each day, T’Challa notices. He can see your eyes, smile and cheeks, and his nose and ears.

It’s magnificent.

‘’You and I have not spoken much lately. Um… how are you?’’

‘’I am doing well, daddy. I was just reading. Do we need to talk about something important?’’

‘’We do, actually. Um… How are you feeling about everything that has been happening lately?’’

With Adanya, much like you, it is sometimes better to dive right into the question rather than tiptoeing around it.

‘’I am gone,’’ she nods, ‘’Just fine.’’

‘’You do not have to do that. If you have any questions or concerns, I’d love to hear the,;;

Also like you, once she has had enough, Adanya has had enough.

‘’I am trying to give you and your new daughter the space you need, To bond,’’ she grits, ‘’You want to spend more time with her than you do me.’’

‘’Adanya, why do you think that?’’

‘’It is true, isn’t it? She comes and you spend time getting to know her. You do not care about me anymore.’’

‘’Adanya Udaku,’’ he silently begs her to look at him, ‘’I love you and your brothers so much. You, and your mother, are my world. I love you with the love that I have for Wakanda- unconditional. I know things have changed. I know that I have not been there for you lately. But, if you’d give me a chance to prove it, I will show you. I am not perfect, Adanya. I am still balancing all of this out.’’

She is looking out over the landscape then before turning to him. ‘’You promise?’’

He chews on that, because he can’t promise that it will ever be completely and perfectly balanced.

All that he can promise is to be there for his children, and to love them unconditionally.

‘’I promise to do what is best for you and your brothers and sister, even when that’s not easy. Deal?’’

She’s thinking about that he can tell as she puts a finger to her chin and thinning.

‘’Okay,’’ she nods, and accept when T’Challa givers ehr a hug.

But there is something that is still weighing on her mind, and she wants it to be addressed.

‘’Daddy, I’m still your princess right?’’

She has a unique relationship with her dad. She’s been worried all week that Nyala would come in and take that relationship away from her, stealing it away like an unknowing little thief and keeping it for herself. In Adanya eyes, that relationship, this bond,is more precious than jewels.

Who could blame her for feeling protective over it?

‘’That is one thing that you will never have to worry about, Adanya. Did mommy and I stop loving you when your brothers came along?’’

‘’No, daddy.’’

‘’Do you think we will stop loving you once the new baby comes along?’’

‘’No,’’ she shakes her head again, her braids swinging.

‘’And we will not stop loving you now,’’ he takes her umber, sun-kissed skin in his, ‘’I promise.’’

She is smart and mature, but she is still a child. He forgets that sometimes. When he looks at her, he sees the light- everything good in this world, everything good about himself and about you. He sees the future queen of Wakanda.

Now, he sees his little girl. He sees a child who has been thrust into a bed of changes, much like a small sailboat expecting to survive on turbulent seas.

In her now, he sees someone who needs him a bit more than Wakanda needs the black panther at the moment.

So he grabs her hand, strolls around the palace garden and addresses her concerns, asks her about her day, laughs with her.

Because, right now, this is the most important and heroic job he could be doing.

Three more weeks pass, and you are now twenty seven weeks along. T’Challa has done better at balancing his job as king, Black Panther, and being a dad. He keeps you and Nisa as far apart as possible, but makes sure that, as the mother of his child, she is taken care of.

It isn’t until a meeting with the elders, the leaders, Shuri and Ramonda that things suddenly hit the floor.

For the past few days, she’s been more under your skin than usual. She has been bringing up how she wants Nyala to have what your children have, about her right to the throne, about her privileges.

And you’d tried to work things out with her, but she demanded that things be taken to the elders before she leaked his treatment of her daughter, though not unkind at all, to all of Wakanda.

So here you are, twenty-seven weeks along and trying to stay afloat on a raft of calmness in a sea of stress.

You can already feel the stress pulling you in, but you are trying not to drown.

No, you will not give her that satisfaction.

‘’The child is illegitimate. She is not eligible to be the queen of Wakanda.’’

‘’My child has just as much a right as any of those other children,’’ Nisa spits at the elders. ‘’Or did you forget that T’Challa has had a child out of wedlock with his soon-to-be-again-wife?’’

‘’That is not what we are discussing,’’ M’Baku replies, ‘’We are discussing your child and the right to the throne.’’

‘’My child has the same right. She is his child. Who knows how many children T’Chaka sired?’’

‘’You will not speak ill of my father,’’ T’Challa snaps at her.

‘’Is the reason that you returned to try to get your child to the throne,’’ one of the elders questions, walking around Nisa and sizing her up.

‘’If that were the case, don’t you think that I would have returned before now?’’

‘’No, you love the drama of it.’’

‘’Think what you want of me. Be all high and mighty. But look down off of your soapbox long enough to realize that I would never put my child in an uncomfortable position if I did not have to.’’

Her eyes are as wide, as wild as the accusations and comments that are being thrown at ehr. She dodges them gracefully, pushing each dart away from her with calculated responses.

‘’Then why would you wait so long to tell King T’Challa about his daughter.’’

‘’I have my reasons. The only reason I am here is because she is indeed his daughter, and she deserves the same treatment that all of his other children are getting. Regardless of the fact that I am her mother,’’ Nisa hisses, ‘’If you’d all had your wy, that would’ve disqualified her. Because I am her mother.’’

You look to T’Challa, because you know she is right. After the paparazzi got those pictures of her leaving with T’Challa one night, you noticed you hadn’t seen many, if any at all, since.

And you never thought about why.

‘’Please,’’ Shuri laughs bitterly, ‘’You used him before, for your own selfish gain. And now yo show up here, three years later. Eh, why should anyone believe you?’’

‘’Because, with all due respect,’’ Nisa grits out, obviously meaning no respect, ‘’Maybe your family isn’t as perfect as you think, Princess Shuri.’’

‘And what exactly does that mean,’’ T’Challa questions, ‘’The elders called this meeting. I did not. So if you have anything that you need to be said about my family, we can do it in private. But this situation can not consume our whole lives. What has been said has been said, what is done is done.’’

‘’No! I am tired of keeping these things hidden, swept under the rug. You see your dad did it when he killed Prince N’Jobu.’’

‘’Nisa, stop,’’ you try to warn her.

‘’And look at how well that turned out N’Jadaka shows up here, begging for the throne, even willing to go so far as to kill you for it. He did not succeed, no. But are you willing to cause another situation of that size just because you want to protect your reputation?’’’

‘’Your heart is so filled with hatred!,’’ T'Challa seethes, “Tell me: what are your reasons for returning? Why wait until now? Why keep my daughter away from me when all of this could’ve been over a long time ago?”

“I-“

“No. I am not finished. People blame me for the choices that I made but I shall take full responsibility for them. I can tell the truth: I messed up. What are your reasons for returning now? Why, when I tried to get into contact with you did you ignore me until I gave up? You’ve never been quiet about anything a day in your life, Nisa. It’s who you are and I accept that. But you may not come in here, and you will not come in here, and disrespect my wife, my children, or my country. Nyala is more than welcome to stay here in the palace, but I am afraid that I must ask for you to be leaving.”

“You can’t do that! She is only two and she needs me! I’m all she’s had her whole life, you can’t take me away from her!”

And here is where T’Challa is caught between a rock and hard place. Because he wants to take care of Nyala, but Nisa is her mother. And he respects her as the mother of his child, but she is disrespectful. She is rude and she is disrespectful, and she is not who he wants around Adanya, Abioye, Ado and the new baby. Nisa is a storm- she leaves a lot of damage in her wake. She’s been toxic for him ever since the day that they first met. But, like fool’s gold, he saw something shiny. She saw someone that she could manipulate and use. So, in a way, they were a perfect match.

It is a demented and twisted thing to think, but it is truth.

‘’T’Challa, you think that your family is so perfect, but they are not. T’Chaka proved that. I have my reasons for not coming forth with Nyala when I found out that she was pregnant, and it has everything to do with your family!’’

But, like a storm, she is terrifyingly powerful and beautiful, something that you can not always be prepared for.

‘’Then what are your reasons? Why keep my child away from me for so long? Was it something I did?’’

That throws her, throws everyone in the room, because they do not know T’Challa like you do. They don’t know how he carries the weight of the world on his shoulder, so he has to be firm and strong and unbreakable. However, he always has to be flexible, moving to the rhythm that other people drum out and squeezing into the spaces that they try to confine him to.

As solid as ice, as fluid as liquid, all depending on the circumstance.

But even ice can break, and water can dry up.

‘’Enough,’’ Ramonda steps forward then, holding a hand up, ‘’That is enough. She says that she has her reasons for keeping Nyala a secret from T’Challa for so long, and she does.’’

Nisa’s breath hitches and she looks to Queen Ramonda, shock on her face.

The shock is on T’Challa’s face as his mother stops in front of him.

‘’Mother, what is going on? What are you saying?’’

Like a storm, Nisa and Nyala blew into your lives unexpectedly. And with very little warning.

Like a storm, it was something you could only do so much about.

And neither of you are prepared for the words that come out of Ramona's mouth next.

‘’T’Challa, it was not Nisa’s decision to keep Nyala away from you for so long. It was mine.’’

I know ending on cliffhangers suck, but I promise there is a reason. Forgive me!

DISCLAIMER- ALL MARVEL CHARACTERS, TRADEMARKS, FICTIONAL UNIVERSES AND SUCH BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.

@soulmates8 @airis-paris14 @greenswishbish @chaneajoyyy

@afraiddreamingandloving @halfrican-heat @sisterwifeudaku @greenswishbish @airis-paris14 @90sinspiredgirl @shesakillerkween @myboyfriendgiriboy @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @afraiddreamingandloving @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @niecey4cocaine @chaneajoyyy @halfrican-heat @bezzywazhere @melaninmarvelgirl62 @hutchj @chaneajoyyy @ashanti-notthesinger @niecey4cocaine @melaninmarvelgirl62

#black panther x you #t'challa x you #t'challa udaku x you #t'challa #t'challa x reader #t'challa udaku #tchalla x reader #reader #reader insert #black panther imagine #black panther #shuri black panther #shuri #shuri udaku #ramonda udaku #ramonda #imagines #imagine #sequel

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bgmxbbj · 7 years ago

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7 Ways to Spend First Year with Your Baby

A week or so after I had my first baby, my friend Susan stopped by -- just in the nick of time: Will had been crying for what felt like hours and nothing I did helped. Susan, who'd just had her second daughter, calmly scooped up my inconsolable newborn and did a sort of combo side-to-side swaying and up-and-down jostling that magically lulled him out of Waa-Waa Land.

I've had three kids since then, and Susan's "mommy jig" has been a lifesaver with every one of them. But I never would have known it if I hadn't let her help me out -- and that's exactly why she, and I, and other moms who've been there want you to remember these seven rules:

1. Asking for help does not make you incompetent.

Precisely the opposite, in fact. Sometimes, there's no other way to get from point A to point B. Even if there is, getting there alone can take twice as long and make you crazy.

Kim Ganier of Huntington Beach, California, was always a self-sufficient person -- until her first baby, Laci (now 3), was a week old and Ganier found herself doing laundry while "someone else was sitting in my glider and cuddling my baby. The lightbulb went on," she says. After that, visitors were put to work so Ganier could enjoy Laci. Her advice now: Speak up, be specific about what you need, and say yes when offered help of any kind. "You'll feel guilty at first, but you'll get over it," she says.

It'll be easier if you remember that someday you will reciprocate -- if not to the particular mom who helped you out, then to another. Several months ago, I was having dinner out with my kids when the mom at the next table asked if I had an extra diaper. I happily handed one over. Sure enough, not long after that, I discovered I'd forgotten to bring a clean swim diaper to the pool and had to go begging from lounge chair to lounge chair for a spare. A better-prepared mom than I saved the day.

So never let guilt or embarrassment or even your ego get in the way of accepting help. Improvising a diaper is a lot harder than returning a favor.

2. Babies don't need as much new stuff as you think.

They seem to outgrow everything from stretchies to bassinets overnight, so why stock up? "I wish someone had told me not to buy cutesy, expensive clothes for my newborn," says Kristine Shuler, mom of 3-year-old Kaylee in Baroda, Michigan. "Little did I know she would spend most of the time in T-shirts from Target. She didn't wear half the clothes I bought!"

There are two lessons here: First, take your time when deciding what you'll really need. Do a little research, make a list, and stick with it. book is a great resource for teasing out what to buy and what to skip, by the way.) Second, as tempting as it is to buy everything fresh and new and adorable for your first baby -- resist. Some items, like swings and bouncy seats, are used for such short periods of time that they never see much wear and tear. Can you borrow from a friend? If not, check out

Marilyn Sklar swears by a children's resale store in her town. "When my daughter, Raquel, was born, I started buying gently used clothes from there. Later, I brought in some of Raquel's clothing and took an in-store credit to purchase more," says the mom of two in Phoenix. "Now I recycle that way whenever possible. We're saving money and being green!"

3. Getting a baby to sleep is worth the trouble.

This is a matter of basic maternal math: baby zzz's = mommy zzz's. Veteran moms will tell you that figuring out, early on, how to get your baby to go to sleep, stay asleep, and take regular naps is key to getting through that entire first year. "Being sleep-deprived is a fact of life, but the sooner you get sleep figured out, the better," says Michelle Wilkins, a mom of three in Blacksburg, Virginia.

For Theresa Cole, mom of Ethan, 5, and Jordan, 1, in Kansas City, Missouri, the trick is to get your newborn used to falling asleep on his own: "Think twice about feeding your baby to put him to sleep. He's a clean slate, waiting to learn how to do things. If you teach him he can only drift off with a boob or bottle in his mouth, that's the only way he will -- even at two in the morning. And, seriously, who wants to deal with that every night for the next couple of years?"Follow more to check african congo mask

I'm a firm believer in consistency. When my third baby was 9 months old and not taking decent naps during the day, I came up with some new routines. I stopped letting him catnap in the car while I ran errands, and planned outings around his naptime, to make sure he could go down in his crib. I also turned his room into a sleep haven (blackout shades, white-noise machine). Pretty soon he was napping twice a day, and snoozing better at night, too. To keep daytime noise to a minimum, Jamie Pearson, mom of Avery, 7, and Max, 5, in Palo Alto, California, adds this tip: "Make a diplomatic front-door sign that says, 'Baby napping. Please visit us another time.' "

4. Competitive parenting: not cool.

Of course you already know that babies develop at their own pace. And of course you know there's more to your baby than when he hits milestones. But when it seems like every kid in the playgroup except yours is sitting up or saying "Mama," it can take all your willpower to act like you just don't care.

It's totally understandable to compare. But for the sake of your sanity, it's worth trying to stop. "I made the conscious decision to believe the experts who said that the spectrum of normalcy was wide," says Susie Sonneborn Blim, a mom of three in Montclair, New Jersey. "I also stopped hanging out with moms who were constantly boasting about or obsessing over their babies' milestones, because that played a huge part in how caught up I got with comparing my baby to other babies."

Pearson had a similar tactic: "When Avery wasn't the first -- or second, or third -- baby in my mothers' group to crawl, I told myself that the impatient, intense, irritable babies were always the early crawlers and walkers," she says. "I kept these theories to myself, of course!" If you're truly worried that your baby is falling behind, bring it up with your pediatrician. She should be your go-to expert when it comes to your child's health and development -- not the bragging, pitying other moms.

5. You and your baby don't have to be joined at the hip.

Experts say: Being touched, held, carried, and cuddled is vital to a baby's development. Moms answer back: There's nothing more delicious than touching, holding, carrying, and cuddling a baby -- to a point. When it's clear that you and/or your baby need a break from each other, take it. This is especially true when your infant's wailing or your pre-toddler's whining is about to push you over the edge. Hand her to Daddy or send out an SOS to a friend or relative.

If there's no one you can call on for help, take a tip from Christine Klepacz, a mom of two in Bethesda, Maryland. "When your baby is crying and you could burst into tears yourself, or when you're just overwhelmed, it's okay to put her in her crib for a while and sit by yourself. She's safe, and sometimes she needs time away from you, too. It's okay. We all do it!"

It's equally important to carve out time for yourself regularly -- not just when you're about to go off the deep end. If there's one thing Jennifer Geddes, a Parenting staffer and mom of two girls, learned during the first year, it's that "you have to take a few minutes for yourself here and there. It's essential to being a happy and healthy mom. I was so concerned with attending to my daughter's needs that I neglected my own. I barely ate, slept, or left the house," she says.

If you're thinking, "Yeah, right -- I can barely get a shower," wait: It's doable. You just have to plan ahead, be creative, and adjust your definition of what constitutes a relaxing break. Where, prebaby, you were used to spur-of-the-moment shopping sprees or on- a-whim workouts, you might find, like Marilyn Sklar, that your idea of a good time now is "a glass of wine and a good book after the children are in bed." Or a brisk walk in the morning before they get up. Me, I swear by weekend matinees. I can get a lot of regenerative mileage out of two hours by myself in a cozy, dark theater with a bag of popcorn, lost in a great story onscreen.

6. The best baby stage is the one you're in.

"They grow up so fast." The reason you'll hear this from everyone and her grandmother: It's true. Kim Lavergne of Nashville, mom of 2-year-old Justin, remembers feeling like time was crawling after he was born. "In reality, the days go by so fast that the next thing you know, your child is no longer a baby," she says. "I've learned to cherish and enjoy the time I spend with Justin."

Charlene Kochensparger of Centerville, Ohio, who has a daughter and a son, seconds that. "First-time parents tend to wish the time away -- 'I can't wait for her to crawl, walk, talk' -- and not enjoy the moment," she says.

The time slipped away from Loretta Sehlmeyer of Dix Hills, New York, because she was so focused on being a perfect parent to her son, Christian, now 4. "I fretted so much over caring for him that I missed the entire experience. I honestly didn't notice that my baby was growing and changing a little bit each day. I spent a lot of time looking at him, but I was way too distracted to actually see him," she says.

"So take some time each day, real time, to hold your baby and do nothing else but use your senses to connect with him. Smell his sweetness, and look at those tiny fingers and toes and amazing little nose."

7. There's no one else like you.

Only a handful of babycare rules are written in stone (specifically, those having to do with health and safety -- like, you really should always put a baby to sleep on his back). Most everything else is up for interpretation. "It's great to read up, solicit opinions, and listen respectfully to advice you haven't asked for," says Michelle Wilkins. "But you know your baby and yourself best. You'll know when an idea resonates."

Adds Chantel Fry, mom of Dylan, 3, and Madalyn, 7 months, in Pittsburgh: "You're going to be different than the next mom. Not better, not worse -- because you do the best you can, and if at the end of the day your child has laughed, and is clean and fed, you can go to sleep knowing that you did what is expected of you." No matter how you did those things, exactly, you can be proud that you're inventing your own special way of being a mom.

#baby products #best baby products

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nicollechoo0321 · 4 years ago

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Week 7 (16/03/21)

Task : Story writing Book Title : Covid 101 : Funny Edition

BEGINNING

Hello, Lengzai’s and Lenglui’s. Welcome. My name is Kepoh. The story that I’m going to tell you will forever remain in the history books and it will be passed down to your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren. So prepare your cheap popcorn……………and enjoy.

PART 1 : CORONAVIRUS

Once upon a time, not long ago, inside a wet market far…..far away, a virus baby was born, and that baby’s name is called Coronavirus………….or Covid-19? ………….whatever you like to call it. Wah I tell you ah, this Corona is a troublesome little virus. Just like it’s ancestors, very naughty, yet evil. I think ah this Corona is the Thanos of all viruses, just a snap of the finger and almost half of the earth’s population go bye-bye. Now let me tell you a little bit about Corona. Corona likes to do parkour. Why? Because it likes to jump here jump there to each persons body. Once you and the person who kena the virus touchy—touchy, you will also kena the virus, after you will start to experience the following symptoms………… Fever, coughing, tiredness, aches and pains, sore throat, diarrhea, conjunctivitis (whatever that is), headache, loss of taste and smell, difficult breathing, and many more.

PART 2 : HOW IT ALL HAPPENED

Now that you know how stupid dangerous the Corona is, now I will show you the saddest part of the story, where it has changed the world and our lives. So again…….sit back, prepare your nuts, and enjoy. It all started from the sprawling capital of Central China’s Hubei province, Wuhan, China. In December, it has expanded to touch all corners of the globe. Upon millions of people around the world have been infected and hundreds of thousands of others have died due to the Corona. Haiyaa……..sad ah. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL!!! Because of the outbreak, people have no choice but to stay at home. Some even lost their jobs! And you know, if the person lost their job there will be no income, if there’s no income, that means no money, if no money means no food, if no food means starvation, if there’s starvation that means DEATH! Scary ah. Anyways, the virus is dangerous, and we must be very careful. But not to worry, Kepoh will tell you how to prevent the virus from happening. You all might be curious “Eh! Kepoh the virus so deadly can prevent one meh?” OF COURSE CAN LAH! Just like when you bad at math, can improve meh? ----------- OF COURSE CAN MAH! *#@!!**[cursing]

PART 3 : PROTECTION 101

I’m sorry………. excuse me for my bad temper. (pg 31) Anyways, like I said, there is a way to prevent, and that is……………… (pg 32) SOP (pg 33)

NO 1! WEAR A MASK! Wearing a mask is a must especially when you are outside. Masks can help protect us from the virus. Ever since the outbreak of the virus started in Malaysia, many people fight to buy masks. And some selfish people decided to stock up those masks, which leave some poor and vulnerable citizens nothing to protect themselves…….I mean………HELLOOOOOOO!!!!! YOU THINK YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE IN MALAYSIA AH!? WE NEED PROTECTION TOO YA KNOW. AT LEAST BUY 2 BOXES FIRST LAH, NOT ENOUGH THEN BUY AGAIN MAH!!!........MA HAII……… And also……Some idiots decided to use this opportunity to scam people. Haiyaa……shortage in masks……kena scam some more. What can get more worse than this….. IN FACT! THERE IS! Since masks have became the most needed product in the market now, many markets, pharmacies, retail shops have started to raise the prices …..SAD AH…… But of course there are some IDIOTS who don’t want to wear masks, because they don’t want to hide their ugly…I mean beautiful face. Moving on……

NO 2! SANITIZE YOUR HANDS! (pg 41) Yes……sanitizing hands can help kill the virus. The virus mostly appear on the surface of objects, so whatever the hell you touch, no matter if it’s your BF, GF, mother, father, sister, brother, cousin, aunty, uncle, best friend, your lousy neighbor, your ex, your parcel, the table, the floor, there is a 70% chance you will have the virus on your beautiful hands. So also remember…………SANITIZE YOUR HANDS (and also the things you touch). Next……

NO 3! SOCIAL DISTANCING! Ah………you all might be asking “Har, Kepoh. That means I cannot go yumcha with my friends loh, I cannot go clubbing loh, I cannot holiday loh”. Let me ask you this, do you want to live or you want to die with your friends. You choose. Don’t say Kepoh did not warn you. Anyway, social distancing is very important, you have to make sure to stay 1 meter away from each person, because you never know whether he/she will have the Corona. Of course there are good and bad things about this. The good is you can protect yourself and you can get away from that one person you hate dearly. (Ha ha ha ha).The bad is you die.

Last, but not least……..

NO 4! STAY AT HOME! This method is even more effective than the rest ah I tell you. Stay at home if you can, don’t go cuti-cuti Malaysia. Talking about this topic ah, Kepoh’s volcano is about to explode ah. Some people never listen one! Sooooo selfish! Like to ke sana ke sini! Not responsible! Think they are immune to the virus! Some even say “Oh, I won’t kena one lah”, “Aiya I’m not scared lah”. Erm……………you’re not scared, I’m scared mah. Walao #@!*!!^%*[cursing]

PART 4 : THE LOCKDOWN

Sorry………..got too carried away. Now here comes the serious part of the pandemic.

THE LOCKDOWN In march 2020, the “Movement Control Order”(MCO) was announced. Every corner of Malaysia is under full lockdown. Wah I tell you, once the government announced the MCO ah, all hell broke loose. Many people charge to the supermarket and flip the heck out of it, stock this and stock that, wah…………its like World War III ah. Which means schools have stopped (yay~~~), some move on with online classes (haiya~~~), offices closed, some work from home, businesses are forced to shut down (sad ah~~~), cannot cuti-cuti Malaysia (even sad ah~~~). During this period of time, Malaysian’s have come up with things to do like, stacking toilet paper, clean the house until niama cannot recognize, coming up with weird food combinations, like milo + Maggie and etc. A lot has happened throughout this period, but the one thing until this day Kepoh still find hilarious and probably the most stupid yet embarrassing thing that has happened in the history of this country is this:

[visual of the news article (self illustrated)]

How in the world did she come up with this. If Kepoh’s wife ang~ang~ang~ in front of me wearing makeup, I’d immediately divorce her, no more wife. Some people have mixed reactions with this MCO, Kepoh broke it down to 2 types: THE INTROVERTS & THE EXTROVERTS. The introverts leh, don’t give a damn about this MCO. In fact, to them its like winning a lottery, happy as hell. The extroverts leh, its like prison to them. All they can do is party by themselves. (Aiya, Kepoh feel sad for them.) Slowly, the number of cases started to drop. And the government announced CMCO. You all must be so confuse now “Eh, Kepoh, this CMCO got any different meh? Just a C in front there”. Relax, let Kepoh explain to you. CMCO means “Conditional Movement Control Order”, easier to say its less strict than MCO. Many businesses can start to operate, you can dine-in, you can go outside have a little exercise. BUT. Still cannot cut your hair, ke sana ke sini, interstate travel, etc. Even though we’re given little freedom, but that doesn’t mean we can do as we please, it is still a must to follow SOPs. KALAU TAK ADA HAL, JANGAN KELUAR. After all the CMCO, the number of cases started to drop even more. Hence, the government announced RMCO. I know you all will ask again “Eh, Kepoh, now what is this RMCO ah?”. RMCO means “Recovery Movement Control Order”. In short, we are nearly going back to our normal lives. Every business, schools and offices were reopened, interstate travel is allowed, but most importantly, we can finally cut our hair! Now this is the most frustrating part. We were thiisssssss close to finally be Covid-free. BUT THEN!

KABOOM!!!

Second wave of the pandemic strikes us like an atomic bomb. But the story is too long to explain, to make things short, I will show you a drawing of what happened.

[Illustration]

That’s not all. The third wave came. So fast like how your money disappear from your bank account. Kepoh don’t want to explain anymore, just refer to the drawing. Kepoh need some rest.

[Illustration]

PART 5 : THE CURE

Kepoh thought, “Is this the end? When will all of this be over? Can this Corona be stopped? Are we able to see the blue skies again?” When all hope was lost, suddenly, a shiny form of liquid dropped from the sky. BEHOLD! THE VACCINE! Is this it? Is this the cure we’ve all been waiting for? Yes, you are correct. We can finally say bye-bye to Corona. After all the hardship we’ve been through, we finally can stop breathing our own stinky breathe. We can finally sneeze and cough however, whenever, wherever we want (please don’t do that lah) without other people assuming we have the virus………. YOU THINK ITS SO EASY AH! IN YOUR DREAMS! When the vaccine arrived in Malaysia, the people think “Oh, its not safe one lah”, “Oh, its poisonous one, very dangerous”, “Oh, not effective one lah”, this and that. WALAO EH! First you complain when will the vaccine come, now the vaccine came, and then you complain not safe! Kepoh really cannot tahan these people ah. Kepoh think they scared to take the vaccine, such pussy cats. Its like they rather die by the virus than by a tiny bottle of liquid. Haiyaaa, such failure.

ENDING

WOW! What a rollercoaster ride! Congrats on reading everything until the end. Kepoh don’t know how you did it, but you have earned my respect. SALUTE! SALUTE! SALUTE! But Kepoh must conclude one thing: No matter whatever MCO or SOP, the most important thing is self-discipline and responsibility. If you very LC, confirm you kena the virus one. But if you are responsible, follow all the SOPs, even a grenade could not kill you. I know…. I know, you all might diss me “Kepoh, you sure? You’re being exaggerating, how can discipline and responsibility save ourselves from the virus.” Shut up lah. You dare diss me again I tell you I will hunt you down. Enough talking, its time to say goodbye. The moment you close this book, you will not see me anymore. Kepoh will not miss you…… I mean will miss you dearly. (Haiyaa, now I’m going to be collecting dust on the shelves now).

BYE~~~

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