#how do they even keep finding this game?? the final season came out 6 years ago lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literaila · 3 years

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hopeless reality

BAU team x reader

request: Hii! I’m in serious need of some angsty sshhiiiit and I love your writing... Could you maybe write some platonic BAU x reader where the reader is the youngest, idk she can be like 20 or something, and a case goes TERRIBLY wrong and she’s injure dying and everyone’s like but she can’t die, she was supposed to outlive us all!

warnings: kinda sad, panicked everyone, hotch basically abandons all of them, some spoliers past season 6, no concrete ending..

a/n: I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO DIFFERENT

“I can do it.”

Those words weren't surprising for any of them.

As the youngest, Y/N was always looking for new ways to prove herself to all of them. She was used to the staring, and the scoffs people made when they saw her next to the all mighty prestigious BAU team. She was used to people looking at her and wondering if they had picked someone up off of the highway, or if she was a murder just riding along with them. She was used to being undermined and underestimated by everyone.

Age was a tricky little thing people didn't seem to look past.

But it wasn't as if she put up with it. When the local police officers were making side remarks about her right behind her back, she didn't keep her mouth shut. Didn't stand there and listen to them expect nothing of her.

And she enjoyed the looks on their faces when they realized she was listening. She liked the stammered apologies that came out of their mouths while she stared them down.

She wasn't one to bite her tongue.

And she had something to prove, to herself and to all of her teammates. She had to show them that she was valuable, that her age didn't affect how much she could do, how much she was willing to do.

And so, it was expected when she offered herself up like a doll for sale.

It's what happens during every case.

This time though, all of her teammates nodded along with her. It was a man closer to her age, only a couple of years older, and she was the most likely to lure him. The most likely to trap him in the prison of being caught.

“Okay, Y/L/N will go in, Morgan and Rossi follow her in as backup, blend into the crowd.” Everyone awaited Hotch's formal orders, ready to finally be done with the case that had taken them days to solve. “You three need to remember, he's going to be on the lookout for us, he's definitely seen the news by now.”

The three of them nodded, Y/N already antsy on her feet as she waited to leave. Definitely the most willing to catch him out of anybody else in the room.

She nodded at the rest of the team, smiling at Garcia’s “See you soon Neptune! Be careful.” from the phone on the table. She grabbed her bag, filled with clothes that would help her fit into the bar scene, and her vest. Just in case.

She started to walk out the door, trailing after Morgan and Rossi as they got ready to leave when Hotch called her back into the room.

Everyone else had already left, and her nerves were telling her to continue walking and get to her job, but out of anyone else there, she was used to being pulled back behind.

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“You shouldn't hesitate to call in Derek or Dave, this unsub isn't going to stick around if he suspects something. You know that?”

It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at his protective instincts, instead going for a smile, hoping to ease whatever paternal nerves he could be feeling.

“Course, Hotchner. I know what to do.”

She nodded at him, choosing not to stay any longer than she had to, saving herself from his double-checking, and reassuring.

She waved with one of her hands walking out the door.

Wearing a dress and both a bulletproof vest was extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was supposed to be discreet.

Y/N sat in the middle of the bar, sipping on a fake drink, throwing smiles to anybody who seemed to look at her, waiting for the one person she needed looks from to approach her.

She knew what to expect, an alpha male, expecting her to fall under his wing and go with him home- which of course would be when he would torture and murder her like he did all those other girls -and she wasn't going to let herself slip up when he was so close.

A couple of guys had come up to her already, asking her if she was new around if she needed some help getting home, if she was lost in a bar like this one. All things that she tried not to show disgust at, smiling and telling them she was expecting someone.

Though, when she saw him, she knew he would be different.

He was carrying himself differently. Smirking at everyone else, unlike a normal too confident male would. It was more threatening, like he expected everyone in the room to do whatever he said, whenever he said.

An alpha male.

Y/N could tell in almost an instant that this was her guy, and that it was time to put on a show.

It was an easy catch. The bait pulled him perfectly.

And she played the part just as expected.

Laughing at everything he said, smiling at him whenever she got the opportunity, drinking the drink she knew he was planning to spike soon.

It was a rehearsed part, one she was exceptional at.

But, when he started pushing her, begging her to come home with him, promising her that he would make it worth her while, she didn't know what to do.

With the last girls, he had waited longer, drugged them before he even dared to take them home, stayed at the bar with them so that they would be more comfortable with him.

But it had only been twenty minutes, only a short minute since he had first looked at her.

He was devolving too fast.

Y/N smiled, trying not to let the sudden nerves she felt show in her eyes, trying to keep herself comfortable sitting so close to him.

She looked over to Derek, who was sitting across the bar, pretending to drink while he listened to their conversation. He was looking back at her, giving her a look that she knew was asking if she was okay, if she knew what to do. He was worried too.

She took a quiet deep breath in.

“I haven't finished my drink yet,” she said, playing dumb, trying to act like she was innocent enough, trying to test him.

“I have plenty of drinks back at my place.”

She giggled, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking back over to Derek.

“It's so early in the night…” She whispered, flaunting her confidence, playing off her “drunkenness” as best as she could while still smiling at him.

But she could tell that he was getting impatient, and wasn't willing to wait anymore.

“What game are you playing?”

And she could hear his real voice. Not the man that went to strange bars to pick up women, but the man who murdered them as soon as he took them home. The man who was planning to murder her.

She looked over to Derek once more, once too much.

The unsub was looking with her, glaring eyes meeting Derek’s, and the reaction was written out in front of all of them.

He had seen Derek on TV. Seen him with the FBI.

He turned back around, his hand slipping to his pocket.

“You’re with them huh?” He was whispering, but his voice was demanding, furious.

And the giggle that came out Y/N wasn't fake this time, just nervous.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, her feet tapping on the barstool, her body getting ready to run, trying to smile.

“The FBI.”

He spat the words in her face. The smile falling from her lips.

The hand moving to point at her.

What was it she wondered?

What was pain?

“Physical pain inspires the worst kind of helplessness.”

Ambulances were surprisingly loud.

Louder than you’d assume.

They were threatening, and dangerous, and did nothing to help give you hope.

Derek didn't get scared. He didn't need hope to keep him upright, he wasn't threatened by any of the ambulances that he had seen before, he didn't find them too loud.

But he was supposed to be protecting her.

They all knew, going into the bar, before the bar, that it was dangerous. They all knew that there was a strong possibility that she could get hurt. But she was cautious, and she was brave. So he didn't worry. He didn't think he had to worry. Even with an unsub who was known for lashing out, for making big decisions with no thought. Hotch had told Derek, all of them, that this would be harder than normal, that they needed to be more watchful, more careful.

She’d been laughing with them in the car on the way over. Telling them that if either Derek or Rossi got in the way of her job, she’d disown them as her friends. She’d laughed and joked with them, not an ounce of fear in her eyes, no anxiety resting upon her body.

But he saw that look in her eyes.

That strange scared look.

It was unfamiliar, an anomaly to him. He’d never seen her eyes like that.

She was the youngest, the most daring, the person who offered to do anything that no one else wanted to.

She laughed when one of them said they were too tired to go out for drinks, offered to watch both Hotch and JJ kids when they were busy. She moved between them like she was mending with them, and she was everyone's best friend.

She took too many risks, moved too fast, thought too hard. She did everything on a whim, but it was impossible to stop her. Impossible to fade her from the scene. Impossible for anything to scare her like it would any person.

He’d never had to worry about her before.

She’d made it clear that she could take care of herself, that she was strong, that just because she was the youngest and most inexperienced, it didn't mean she couldn't do what any one of them could.

She was so strong.

And he’d never seen that look in her eyes before.

Desperation, trepidation. Two things that had never filled his body like in that moment.

He could see the unsub moving, he could see her worried eyes, her panicked posture. He saw everyone else around them, moving normally, none of them quite as scared as she was. He saw Rossi looking over at him from the bar.

And he saw the gun in the unsubs hands.

He wished he had been paying attention more, watching her, checking to make sure she seemed just fine. He wished he had watched the unsub, checked to make sure he couldn't see any weapons on him. He wished that he could’ve done it all over again, asked her to step back, to let him catch the guy.

And he wished he could’ve been fast enough.

The unsub had pulled out the gun, had stared at her with his threatening eyes, and she moved back, tried to get away but, she wasn't fast enough, and the unsub was too quick.

Derek had watched her stumble backward. He watched the pain light in her eyes and the panic fade out.

She used to tease him about watching everything.

“We aren't at work, you don't have to profile everyone in the room, Derek.”

Then she’d pass him a drink. Tell him that it was supposed to be fun, that they all needed a little more fun in their lives.

But now, all Derek needed was to get her eyes out of his head.

Her eyes were so desperate and panicked and worried for everyone, for everything. Her eyes were usually so brave and so curious.

He needed to get them out of his head, he needed this moment to be over.

He needed to not be sitting in the back of an ambulance with her.

It was surprisingly loud.

And scary.

He’d never been scared like this before.

Rossi wasn't worried.

He wasn't. Really.

He knew her, knew how fast her body would spring back, rejuvenate itself. He knew that she was strong, that she could stand any amount of pain, that when he saw her next she would be smiling, and she’d ask him if this meant they could have a party.

He knew she’d be fine.

He wasn't allowed to go in the ambulance with Y/N and Derek. The paramedics assured both him and Derek that only one could go, and Rossi could see the time slipping past them. He could see the clock ticking and he knew that they had to speed things up.

So, he’d pushed Derek into the ambulance.

He wasn't worried, so why would he go with her?

Besides, Derek was scared. He was shut down and focused so much on her, Rossi thought that Derek would have fought him for the place in the ambulance.

He thought about all the people he’d seen get hurt while working this job. Thought about all the times one of them made a mistake, or someone wasn't quick enough. Most of the time, they were fine. Not many people got hurt on the job.

There was always a couple weeks of leave, a couple weeks to get themselves back together, but they always came back.

He hadn't seen too many people die.

So he wasn't worried. The odds were that she would live. The odds were that she would be completely fine by the time he got to the hospital.

Because she was strong. She was healthy, had a young body, and more energy than she needed in the first place.

Rossi thought it might be good for her to slow down. This might be a good experience for someone like her. Someone who takes too many risks, goes out on a whim, and doesn't slow down even when she has the chance.

This might help her become a better agent. Someone more careful.

He wasn't worried.

She’d be fine.

Really.

JJ got the news first.

Back at the police department, while they were clearing up. She knew that Derek, Hotch, and Rossi all knew. She knew that the unsub had clued into who Y/N was, she knew that Derek and Rossi hadn't been enough to protect her. She knew that Y/N was on her way to the hospital, that she’d been shot in the field.

They didn't tell her where. Or how she was doing.

JJ had been here before. She had been in the situation of not knowing, of constant anxiety, of the questions that just bang back and forth in your head until you can get your answers.

She knew how that felt.

She looked over to Spencer and Emily, both of them clueless to what was going on, to their friend being brought to the hospital.

“Have you got the unsub detained?” She whispered, leaving the room, trying to gather all of the facts before she made assumptions.

“Yes. He's on his way to the police station now.”

“And no one else was hurt?”

“No.”

JJ nodded to herself, feeling relieved at the news.

The questions were in her head, spinning around. She knew that she wouldn't have any of them answered any time soon. Not until they could get into the hospital and see her.

“And JJ?”

Hotch’s voice was the same as always. Demanding.

“Yes?”

“I need you to tell Spencer and Emily.”

“Hotch-”

“I’ve got to go.”

And then she was left. With her news. And her questions.

And her confusion.

Of how this could ever have happened.

Hotch wasn't allowed to have a reaction. He wasn't allowed to think about it.

He was working. He had to do his job.

Members of his team had been shot before.

They all knew the risk there was in going in. They all knew how disguises couldn't hide everything. And they all knew that people got hurt doing the job.

It wasn't surprising. Wasn't anything new.

But she had reassured him. She had told him she knew what she was doing, she knew what she was doing.

He had believed her.

He could hear his voice in her head, telling all of them that she would do it. Like she always did. Like every other time, she got the chance.

She never took a step back, never looked at the situation before offering to go.

It was reckless and stupid.

No one ever said a thing. When she offered to be the bait, all of them accepted it, expected it. They all knew that she would be the first to jump at the chance to go out in the field. They all knew that she was smart and strong, and she knew what she was doing.

None of them ever said no. It was so hard to say no to her.

But she had reassured him, Hotch had double-checked this time, just to make sure she would be safe. He put two experienced agents as her back up, two people that he trusted and knew would protect her.

“I can do it.”

She could do it.

She’d been shot.

And he felt like blaming himself, felt like being angry, furious at her for offering to go, for reassuring him and lying, and he felt like being angry at himself for letting him go, for not properly preparing her.

But he didn't have time to ponder those thoughts.

He didn't have the time.

He couldn't have a reaction.

He had a job to do.

He was working.

He wouldn't think of it.

Emily probably knew better than anyone else.

She was probably most familiar with pain. With hurt.

She knew how this would affect her, she knew how she would feel. She knew how it would change her even after she was healed. She knew how the scar would never leave her body, and that she would wince every time she saw it.

No matter how much Emily wished she wouldn't understand, she did.

She knew what would happen to Y/N.

If she lived that is. If she was strong enough, if the bullet wasn't stronger than her. If she wasn't too late, if the doctors could save her. If she would stay alive.

And she would be there this time.

If she died. If the world was cruel enough to take her away.

She would have to be with her friends, she wasn't allowed to run away again. She wasn't allowed to go across the world and break alone, she wasn't allowed to turn her back like she had before. Even if she wanted to. Even if running away seemed like the only thing she could do. She would stand by them, and learn what it felt like to have your friend die.

But she wouldn't come back.

That was probably the hardest thought.

If Y/N died, she wouldn't have the opportunity to come back. She wouldn't have the months to heal, the job across the world, she would have the pain of knowing that her friends thought she was dead, but she also wouldn't have any pain.

She’d be dead. Gone. Forever.

And Emily knew what that meant.

It almost killed her to know that.

When she watched Spencer freeze as JJ told both of them, when she saw the worry in JJ’s eyes, she knew that the only thing she could do was be there for all of them. For her, if she could. And for them, if she had to.

It was a scary thing to know your friend was hurt. To know that while everything else in the world stayed the same, several hearts were breaking with the knowledge of the pain their friend was in. It was crazy to think that not everyone's world changed.

It was selfish of her to be thinking of herself, to be avoiding the memories and the thought that came with Y/N being dead. It was selfish to assume she was. It was selfish that she wasn't doing anything to help her friends, to help herself. It was terrible of her not to hope, not allow herself to feel some relief.

But she had to protect herself.

Expect the worse, welcome the best.

Emily was scared. She was scared for Y/N, scared to be there this time, scared to have to hold everyone together like she couldn't before. Scared for the worse to be the reality. For her friend to really be gone.

She could hear her laugh in her head. She knew that it wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away until Emily could hear it again.

Pain.

She was so familiar with. She was so used to.

Pain.

Emily probably knew that better than anyone else.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

That's all Spencer knew.

He didn't know what was going to happen, if she would live, if she would die, if she was okay, if she wasn't. He didn't know what they would do without her, what would happen if she really did die, if the youngest died before any of the oldest could.

He didn't know how everyone would feel, how he would feel if she died.

He didn't know what any of them would do without her laughter, without her pushing for them to have fun when work was over, without her running around the office, making everything seem bright when it was nothing but dim.

He didn't know what would happen. What was happening?

But he knew

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

He knew that if he could see her, if he had more information about what had happened, he could figure out the probability that she would live. He knew that if he had been there, he would know how to feel, what was going to happen.

But they were sitting in the hospital waiting room. They couldn't see her yet.

Derek hadn't said a word. Emily was sitting next to Spencer. JJ was walking around, checking on all of them instead of herself, being as selfless as she could while they were all stuck in a state of panic.

Rossi was talking to the nurse again.

There still wasn't any news.

None of them were sure how she could’ve been hurt, with her vest, and her self defense techniques. None of them were sure how hurt she could be.

But

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

Spencer held onto that.

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. She wouldn't.

He thought of the sleepovers Y/N, Garcia, and he had. Like children. He thought of how both of them spent the entire night picking on him, trying to make him laugh. He thought of how she always convinced the two of them to come over, told them that it was movie night even if it was a completely random day.

He hated the thought of not doing that anymore.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She was the youngest. Everyone teased her about it. They all expected her to live for a hundred years, far longer than any of them could. She was the youngest and the brightest and the bravest. She wasn't supposed to die before any of them could.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

When she had offered to be the bait, Spencer hadn't felt worried. He didn't even think of her getting hurt, only felt relieved that this case would finally be over, that they could all go home. He didn't worry at all.

But he should have.

Because she always did this, she always offered, and no one ever turned her down. The odds were that she should’ve gotten hurt long before this.

Odds were that she was extremely lucky.

Except for now.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

Spencer didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if she would live, if she would die. He didn't know what would happen. He barely knew anything at all.

But Derek wasn't talking, Emily was silent, JJ was avoiding the topic, and Rossi had asked the nurse for an update eight times in the last thirty minutes.

He didn't know.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She wouldn't be one of the hundred.

She couldn't.

Before JJ had told her, Penelope knew something was off.

No one had called her to update on if they had got him or not. Her phone had been completely silent.

That was off.

She called her Neptune.

It was one of the planets that couldn't be seen from Earth.

She’d always asked where the nickname had come from.

Penelope had called her that because Y/N was unreachable to her. She held so much, all this brightness, and you could barely even tell from the surface.

It was a nickname that seemed to fit her more than anything else.

And she couldn't help but think of it as soon as she got the call.

Neptune. Her best friend.

She didn't understand much about profilers, but she knew that Y/N was different from all of her other friends. She didn't know if it was because she was younger, and less experienced, or if she just carried something different to her.

But it was a smart decision to be her best friend, to depend on her.

They’d spent nights together, laughing, creating insanity with every sentence, every hour that ticked past on the clock. They’d spent time laughing, and crying, learning everything they could about each other.

‘Best friend’ was a loose term, one that didn't extend far enough for their relationship.

And Penelope had known something was wrong, as soon as no one had called her.

The first thought was that the unsub had gotten away, that he was going somewhere else and they still had to catch him.

But she knew that wasn't true, because they hadn't called her to help.

And then she thought that maybe he had been difficult, that maybe it was taking all of the team to help deal with him.

But, that didn't seem quite right.

And then she thought of all the other times something like this had happened, when she hadn't gotten a phone call, and there was nothing but silence for a couple of hours.

And all she could think of, was the day Emily almost died.

And then the bullet Spencer had taken to the leg.

And then the stabbing Hotch had been through.

For Penelope, after those thoughts, she didn't have any choice but to find out where they were.

So, she hacked their phones.

It wasn't completely rational, but Penelope had never proved to do things that were rational before. And she was far too protective to not do anything.

JJ’s phone showed up at the police department they were working from. So did Emily and Spencers. Hotch was somewhere across town. Rossi was still at the bar, and Derek was at the nearby Emergency Room.

By the time she had gotten to Y/N, she knew something was wrong.

One of them was hurt.

When she finally got the phone call, she had already pulled some of her hair out, stalked the news, tried to hack into the hospital's patient list- which she couldn't because not all of it was digital -and bitten off almost all of her nails.

JJ had told her, just like JJ always did, informing all of them the best she could.

And they didn't know enough.

Penelope had no idea how her best friend was, and even though she’d asked over and over, what had happened, JJ didn't have any answers for her.

It was a stupid situation.

Penelope hoped she wasn't hurt. That the bullet hadn't gotten anywhere near anything important, that she would live just as Penelope had years ago.

If she had lived, so could Y/N.

She was young and strong and she had been wearing a vest, and there was nothing wrong with her, if they didn't know anything it was good. It was good that no one had told them anything.

That meant she wasn't dead yet.

And that's all Penelope had to hold onto.

She called her Neptune. Because she was unreachable.

She would be fine.

Her eyes. They looked so scared. Derek was so scared.

She would be fine. Rossi knew.

JJ didn't know how this could have happened.

He wouldn't think of it. He was working.

Emily knew better than anyone else.

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year.

An average of 100 a day.

She called her Neptune.

She was the youngest out of all of them.

She had to be okay.

my masterlist here.

#derek morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss x reader #penelope garica x reader #aaron hotch x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons

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chelleztjs18 · 3 years

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Lost in Assistance - Ch. 6

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

You are forced to wake up in a sudden by your alarm blaring. You squint your eyes, try to find your glasses or your phone to turn off that annoyance of the sounds of your alarm. You finally turned it off and put on your glasses then checked out the time. You forgot that you have to wake up earlier than you planned before Lizzie’s text yesterday. Once you see the time is 5 AM, you regretted that you stayed up late last night.

You groaned as you got out of the bed. Last night you decided to wake up at 5 AM just so you can give yourself enough time to get ready, let alone you have to try to beat the traffic to go to the office even though it’s Friday you just don’t want to take that risk, not today. Last but not least, you have to get the coffee that Lizzie specifically requested.

You try to get ready faster than usual. You picked semi casual attire for today with a low ponytail and flat shoes. You grabbed your purse, your laptop and every other thing you need for work today. You walk out then go to your mom’s room to check if your mom is awake.

“Ma, are you awake yet? I’m gonna go to work okay? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.” You half whispered hoping your mom can hear you but not loud enough to wake her up just in case she is still sleeping.

“Okay, good luck on your first day my dear.” Your mom replies in a sleepy tone.

You left for work but had to drop by at Starbucks near the office to get Lizzie’s large black coffee with half and half and two pumps of hazelnut syrup so it will still be hot when she gets it. That’s how she likes it and it’s one of a few list of coffee beverages she likes besides her precious seasonal pumpkin spice latte.

You finally arrived at the office at 6 AM sharp. The main building is already open due to some offices having early operation hours. You confidently go up to the office thinking it is already open as well or at least opened for Lizzie who is meeting you there but to your surprise the door is still locked and all the lights are still off. Puzzled with what’s going on, you pull out your phone and try to contact Lizzie to figure out where she is.

You try to call her but no answer. You wait for a few minutes in front of the office, then you try to call her again, which leads to the same result, no answer. Hoping that you will get an answer if you try to reach her in a different way, you decided to text her.

"Good morning Ms. Olsen, I'm here at the office. Are you on your way here by any chance? Thanks." You texted anxiously yet irritated. Fifteen minutes went by and still no words whatsoever from her. You decided to go back to your car and wait there.

You hate waiting yet that’s the only thing you can do now. Luckily, you parked at one of the Vernon’s office reserved spots so it will be easy for you to spot Lizzie when she comes. You sighed with annoyance every time you checked your phone and found nothing from Lizzie. You watch the parking spots around you like a hawk to spot Lizzie but shortly you are betrayed by your body, your eyes slowly close and you fall asleep. All of a sudden you hear your phone ring, it’s Lizzie. You jolted to check the time to find it’s 8:05. “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!’ You cursed in your mind and answered the call.

”Hello. Ms. Olsen. I’m coming right up.” You explain right away while you gather your stuff to get going. “Where are you?! You are late. I have been waiting here for 5 minutes.” Lizzie asked, pretending she was upset about waiting. Making you come two hours early and letting you wait was her plan. Little did you know, Lizzie actually saw you sleeping in the car when she parked. Of course she won’t let this situation go to waste so she decided to just go up to the office to make it look like you are late.

You finally showed up with one hand holding your purse and your laptop, the other handing Lizzie her coffee. “Good morning. I’m so sorry. Here’s your coffee. I got here at-..” before you could finish your explanation she cuts you off. “Um, my coffee is not hot, Y/n. Why is it cold? I like hot coffee in the morning. You need to get me a new one on the way there. We gotta go now or we are gonna be late. Thanks to you.” She gave the coffee back to you and walked away.

Your jaw dropped. You are so flabbergasted and irritated at the same time with what just happened as you saw her walk away with no remorse whatsoever.

“Aren’t you coming?” What Lizzie said snap you back to reality and you proceed to follow her to leave.

Lizzie decided to sit at the front passenger side with you driving. You drive in silence, still upset that you have to go to Starbucks to get her another hot coffee. You ordered hers and your usual coffee. You got both of your orders, you put yours in the cup holder and you hand her hers. “Ice coffee huh in the morning? Grande Espresso frappuccino, light ice double blended with extra shot in a venti cup. Just because you like cold coffee in the morning, it doesn’t mean other people like it too, you know?” She commented sarcastically. “Ms. Olsen, I got there at 6 just like you wanted me to, I tried to call and text you but no answer. That’s why your coffee got cold. It has been sitting for two hours.” You broke your silence but are still trying to keep it cool.

“Oh yeah, I slept in, didn’t hear my alarm.” Lizzie answered nonchalantly.

“Are you kidd--” You said in your mind then you took a deep breath. Hearing how she answered you, it made you connect the dots and you know what she’s up to. You know it’s normal if she really slept in but this happened on the first day you work for her, coincidence much.

“I see.” You said it sarcastically and nodded slightly. “What? What do you see?” You got her attention. “Oh nothing. You did it on purpose didn’t you? You are trying to give me a hard time working.” You calmly confront her. “I told you I slept in. It’s up to you how you gonna take my answer.” Another nonchalant answer came out from her. You chuckle sarcastically then pull over and turn your head to look at her. She looks back at you confused.

“Look, Ms. Olsen. I don’t sugar coat things so please hear me out, I know you don’t like me because I got hired as the assistant you thought you don’t need and I don’t fancy you either. What you did this morning is completely childish and to me, you really give yourself a bad name such as a brat. I’m just here doing my job. As professional as you are and as stubborn as you are, no matter what game you are playing now, I won’t quit because I’m not a quitter. So why don’t you just let me do my job until the contract ends?” You raise one of your eyebrows and give her an intimidating smile then you start to drive again to the location.

Despite the fact that Lizzie actually got caught off guard with what you just did and with everything you said, she refused to give in. In fact it just provoked her more and started to ramble angrily “I told you I slept in! Just so you know, I have my own reason why I don't need a new assistant! You know nothing about me! So don't you dare call me a brat! Don't get too cocky. I’m not a quitter either. I’ll win.” She replied and just like that, they soon got into an argument and everything turned into one competition between you two girls who have the same level of unyielding obduracy. Nonetheless, both of you are consumed by your own ego and anger.

You scoffed. "Oh come on! We both know you did it on purpose! I'm not stupid! 2 plus 2 is 4! Why don't you want a new assistant anyway? It's not that bad!" You raised your tone a little.

"Why the hell do I have to tell you my reason?! It's a personal thing! You work for me, don't you remember that?! Being childish is way better than being cocky like you. Just because you are the best assistant that Mitchel has, doesn't mean you're better than anybody else! So if you are as professional as you said you are, why don't you just zip it and drive?!"

The driving is now filled with tension and awkward silence. You decide to turn on the music just to calm you down. Clair De Lune by Motez Remix plays. The tune is actually catchy enough to Lizzie’s ears, she never heard this song before so she secretly checked the title on y/n’s car screen. “I don’t like this, I want to listen to something else.” She lied just to push y/n’s button yet again. “My car, my choice of music.” Lizzie rolled her eyes to what you said.

Luckily the traffic wasn’t that bad, you both arrived at the location on time. Lizzie gets out of the car and slams the door as she is still upset with you.

The photoshoot session starts. Both of you only talk when it’s needed. Not a single eye contact happens between the two of you. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch. Lunch is already catered, you prepared a plate for her, place it on the table. You sit with the photographer and crews on another table near hers.

She sits and about to eat but was stopped by something she noticed on her plate. Something that she hates, onions.

“Umm, Y/n, I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away. “ And why is that?” curious why she said that, you go to take a look at her plate and notice what’s the problem. “Sorry, I didn’t notice there’s onions there.” You added.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind eating it if there’s no onion in it. Since you are my assistant, I will let you do your job just like what you asked me to do earlier.” She said it sarcastically but in a low tone and gave you a smirk, knowing she just served you back your own words from the argument earlier.

You realized what she wants you to do, it won’t look good if the photographer and the crew see you argue with you since they didn’t hear what ridiculous “assistance” Lizzie just asked you to do for her so you just do what she asked you to half heartedly.

The rest of the session continues then you both go back to the office when it’s all done. The whole ride was awkward and silent from both of you with soft music playing in the background. Tension is in the air but that doesn’t stop both of you secretly exchanging glances to each other without you both knowing.

You both arrived at the office’s parking structure just to separate to go home and move on with your day.

Ch. 7

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

I AM ONCE AGAIN SORRY

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 9

When Zemo got to the bar, there was no one there. He had gone inside looking for you, had asked all the staff when he couldn't see you there. He began to panic when they told him you had left a while ago.

Rushing back outside, he looked left and right rapidly. He saw no one. He got back into his car and drove. He would drive all night if he had to. He just had to find you.

He kept trying to call you, but you wouldn't pick up. At some point you turned your phone off, which just made him worry all the more.

Pietro Maximoff.

He hadn't heard that name in years. What happened back then had always hung over him like a dark cloud, but it had been so long since anyone had ever said that name to him.

He had to explain. You needed to know what happened. If Zemo lost you, what would be the point? How could he race without his lucky charm? He couldn't let this get between you both.

He felt horrible lying to you. There was so much he hadn't told you, but he had never wanted you to find out like this. He should have been honest from the start.

Zemo could only imagine what you were thinking. What must you think of him now?

How long had been driving? He had no idea. He hadn't found you yet. It was becoming harder and harder to keep up his facade. He wanted to yell, scream, punch something.

Everything was falling apart.

The only place he hadn't checked was home. He had no idea how you would have got there, the walk being too far, but it's all he had left.

He makes the drive back.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was full of worry, anger, regret.

He pulls up to the house, but all the lights are off and there is no sign of life. He has the key for the door, there's no way you have got in. He looks down the path to the garage, it looks undisturbed. The garage is locked up tight.

You're not here.

His phone rings.

Zemo scrambles for the device, nearly dropping it from how bad his hands had begun to shake. He looks at the screen, but is left disappointed. It's not you.

James Barnes

He answers it.

"Whatever it is better be important. I have urgent business to attend to." Zemo is surprised by how level he can keep his voice right now.

"I'd say this is important."

"Well, what is it?"

"I bumped into Y/N on my way home. It's only because of Sam I was able to recognize them."

"Where are they?" He asks, almost urgently.

"On the last train home for the night. Zemo, what the Hell happened? They were hysterically upset. I swear I'll kick your ass if you did something stupid."

"It wasn't something I did. Were they alone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Y/N had gone to meet someone. A wicked young woman who I may run over if I see her," he hisses down the phone.

"I didn't see anyone else."

"I have to go."

Zemo hangs up. He has to go to you, but first, he has to meet with Stark. The only way that nasty little woman could have known about that incident is if Stark had told her.

Tony Stark had been there that day.

Zemo gets into his car and he drives. He drives like a man on a mission. He doesn't care how late it is, Tony Stark will see him tonight.

If Zemo loses you, he will never forgive himself. He will never forgive Tony Stark.

He will never race again.

The lights are on at Stark's homebase. Zemo spends a few minutes parked outside looking at the window. The curtains were drawn, but movement could be seen vaguely behind them.

He gets out and marches up to the door. He knocks harshly.

In the seconds before the opening of the door, many thoughts flashed through Zemo's mind. He had no idea what would happen here tonight, all he did know was that Tony Stark was a cruel man who wanted to ruin everything good in his life.

Zemo had been beyond lucky they even let him race again after what happened.

The door opens. Stark stands there.

The way he looks at Zemo, it pisses him off. He stands with his chin up, head held high, looking down at Zemo. He knows why the Baron is here. He had anticipated his visit.

"What a surprise," Tony says, no emotion to his voice.

"What have you done?'

"What I had to." Tony walks away, leaving the door open. He walks over to his alcohol cabinet and pours himself a drink. Zemo steps inside, glaring daggers at the man. His hands clenched into fists as he grinds his jaw.

"That was six years ago."

"It still happened."

"You know it wasn't my fault."

Tony stands, drink in hand, looking at his rival. Here was a man who had been broken once before, and stands broken again. Stark did you a favour. Zemo wouldn't be here now if you had gone back to him after that, so he can only assume you left.

"You are the reason that kid is dead. Everyone knows it."

Zemo shakes his head.

"You are the reason people see me as a murderer. I did nothing to you. That, out there, is competition. We play the game by the rules and we play fair. At least, we're suppose to. I do not like your dirty tricks, Stark."

Tony doesn't move. He stands there, still.

"I was lucky they even let me race again, but even luckier when Y/N came into my life. You are taking away everything I hold dear, piece by piece. You are ruining me."

"You ruined yourself when you took up racing," Tony says, coldly.

"You just can't let it go, can you? You don't like that I am better than you."

Tony doesn't reply.

Zemo takes slow, careful steps toward Tony. His eyes, glazed with tears, do not look away from his gaze. He only stops when he is directly in front of him.

"If I lose Y/N, you will never hear the end of this. You're cruelty knows no bounds, Stark. I fell so very sorry for Miss Potts. How can she be so fond of a man like you who turns careers and flaunts around with other women. Does your little bird know you are a heartless bastard?"

"You don't scare me, Zemo."

"Not yet, I don't."

Zemo grabs the glass from Stark's hand, throws it at the wall behind him, and then marches away.

He has to see you.

By the time he reaches your town, it's about one on the morning. Though there is the chance you're sleeping, he is here and he will takes his chances.

He knocks on your door.

There are no sounds, no sign of movement, but there is a light which he can see under your door.

You're home.

"Y/N." His accent is heavier than usual, wavered by emotion. He leans up against the door, ear pressed against it.

You're there.

He knows you're there, listening.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about me. Pietro Maximoff died in a terrible accident. His car malfunctioned. It was an accident that turned into a case because someone decided to ruin my career."

He waited, wanted to see if you would say anything.

You didn't.

"I have raced before. I won on my first race. I won again, the second. A racing star, they called me. That was the first time Tony Stark had lost. Suddenly, he had competition. Real competition. Before, he would leave everyone in the dust, winning over and over again. Then I showed up. After my second win, he had my car checked. He was furious because it was legal. He assumed I had altered it against the rules because there was no way his cars would lose. Then that happened."

He hears you move. You're right behind the door.

"Pietro Maximoff was a crazy good driver. Apparently he was awed by me. I told him if he crossed the line that day, I would tutor him. We made a deal. However, his car malfunctioned after the third turn. He drove head first into the barrier, full speed. His car caught fire. He was alone. It took too long for the team to reach him. He died on impact, they say. He was dead whether they got to him or not."

He sighs, hand resting up against the door.

"I did not tamper with his car. I did not kill that boy. Tony Stark made them believe I did with no evidence to prove it. I was found not guilty of attempted murder, but I was disqualified from racing up until I finally made an appeal. This season is my first racing season in 6 years."

He waits.

He hears shuffling, but nothing else.

"You have to believe me. If I lose you too... i have nothing left."

Nothing.

You don't say anything. The door does not open. He steps back in defeat. He doesn't know what else he can do, what else he can say.

Except, "If you still hold feelings for me, then please be at the next race. If you come, I'll know you'll forgive me. I know you'll still love me. If you don't, then I will never bother you again. I'll know that I have ruined everything and I will live with that regret until the day I die."

He takes a deep breath and steps away further.

"I love you. I want you to know that. I love you."

You cry silently as you listen to him walk away. It's not until you're sure he has gone when you let your cries out.

On your coffee table sat your laptop. As soon as you got home, you had been researching what had happened that day.

There was no evidence.

Just articles and speculation.

The fact that you even believed for a moment he had killed a young man like that made you sick. How horrible of a person could you be?

Helmut deserved someone better than that.

He has spent so many years living with a tragic accident over him, and you hadn't even talked to him about it.

You felt awful.

You spent most of the night heartbroken. Sleep eventually paid you a visit, but it was hardly restful. You just woke up in pain.

Race day was coming fast.

What were you going to do?

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief @breadsquash

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #AU

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krappykawa · 4 years

Text

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.1)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more.

warnings. language

word count. 4.2k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. i started writing this a few weeks ago and it was originally just going to be a one-shot but it got almost up to 10k words so i just decided to split it up HHSKFJ

Oikawa Tooru has perhaps one of the strongest drives when it comes to hard work.

His tenacity is a thing of nature, something that awes you time and time again, no matter how many times you’ve seen him pick himself up before. It might be one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

But despite how in-tune he is with his senses on a mental standpoint, his Achilles’ heel lies with his inability to pick up on the signs his body gives him when it's had enough. Well, he can, but he just chooses not to listen.

His first encounter with a crack in that heel came in his first-year, where you had to stand on the sidelines and watch as he fell to the ground during a game with a resounded sweep of gasps around the gym. That injury benched him for more than half the season.

It was from that point on that you and Iwaizumi decided that if Oikawa wasn’t going to take care of his own body, then it would be up to you two to make sure his head is still above water.

So it doesn’t surprise you when your phone flashes with a text message from Iwaizumi during one of your shifts at the bakery.

1 new message: iwa (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Received: can you come pick up shittykawa

“Tooru?”

A figure sits slumped against the benches in front of Aoba Johsai high, his eyes closed as he lays back. There’s something beautiful about the way that he looks almost ethereal in this relaxed state, the most relaxed you’d seen him in months. When he hears his name from your lips, he slowly blinks and sits up, the aura of relaxation falling from him.

You almost regret having said anything in the first place when he puts up his guard the moment he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” An easy smile falls between his lips, one that could’ve easily fooled anyone else. He always was very good at portraying happiness and contentment, especially when he’d been followed everywhere by people that only really want to see Oikawa Tooru, popular ladies’ man with charm that could make your mother swoon.

But you’re one of the select few that knew him before he learned that his charm was a crucial asset in his arsenal. You knew him at his highs and his lows, so the convincing smile on his lips doesn’t convince you in the slightest. That’s because you notice the way his arms seem to sit limply in his lap and the way his eyes convey fatigue rather than joy. You also know that Iwaizumi called you here for one thing.

“Don’t Y/N-chan me. Iwa texted me.”

Oikawa’s facade seems to fall at that, replaced with a troubled expression. He brings his right hand up to wipe at his face in frustration. “Listen, I don’t know what he may have said, but he’s exaggerating. I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He can’t seem to meet your eyes. “Well, that’s a lie considering that you’re out here right now and not in that gym,” you say matter-of-factly.

“He physically dragged me out here!” Oikawa whines, throwing his hands in the direction of your school’s gym.

A bemused chuckle leaves your lips as you move to sit beside him on the bench. Oikawa moves his bag to give you more room to sit, but you don’t move any closer. “And when has that ever stopped you?”

Oikawa getting kicked out of practice by Iwaizumi and even on select days, by their coach, is not an unusual occurrence. Iwaizumi has forcefully dragged Oikawa out of the gym before. Each and every time, Oikawa just marched right back in, despite Iwaizumi’s rage and his coach’s warnings. Even when his extra practice hours cause detrimental effects to his knee, Oikawa never seems to back down.

It was something both you and Iwaizumi had grown used to in your years of friendship with Oikawa -- his incredibly stubborn determination to somehow work himself to the point of bad health.

That’s how you know something different has happened today, because Oikawa is sitting out here on a bench rather than arguing with Iwa about how “a few more serves won’t hurt him!” (though they most definitely do, and Oikawa never seems to learn).

You turn your head to look at him. He’s quiet now, though he still doesn’t meet your eyes. His gaze is instead focused on a dog that’s running in the park opposite the school. You know that he’s avoiding confirming your accusation.

When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to talk anytime soon, you sigh. “All I’m saying is that if you really believed that you were fine, you would be using all your blood, sweat, tears in order to find a way back into the gym. Especially since the qualifiers are coming up.” You lean back against the bench as well, letting your eyes watch the dog happily run with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. “But instead you’re here, sitting on a bench in the afternoon. And from the looks of it, you had no intention of heading home.”

He still doesn’t turn to look at you, the only indication that he even heard you is the mild tick in his jaw. You try not to think about how perfectly sculpted his side profile is.

When he finally does speak, he still avoids your accusation of his fatigue and instead asks, “Why did Iwa-chan call you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the bakery?”

You shrug. “Business was slow. Besides, my boss likes me enough to let me go early today. He said I’d have to work overtime this weekend though.”

At that, he finally turns to look at you. In the split second that you glance at him, you catch the guilt in his gaze before he looks away again. “You shouldn’t have come. You already overwork yourself being the only decent baker besides your boss that works there.”

A smile spreads on your face, your tone teasing. “Oikawa Tooru wants to talk to me about overworking myself?”

“I’m serious. You work too hard at that bakery for the measly amount that they pay you. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you try to cover your under eye circles with makeup.”

You feel your stomach jump, the familiar feeling causing your lips to tug upwards lightly. Tooru has been one of your best friends ever since you moved into the house across from his when you were seven years old. You hadn’t known when it happened, but you had come to school one day last year and just suddenly knew that your feelings were no longer limited to platonic when it came to the brown-haired volleyball captain. It’s in moments like these where you wonder how he hasn’t managed to figure your feelings out, considering how observant he is of everything else about you.

“Yes, well I’m sorry that we can’t all look like we spawn from a god like you do. It’s seriously unfair how you can still look like that when you get even less sleep than I do.”

There’s only a hint of teasing in his voice when he says, “You think I look that handsome?” He turns to face you again, and this time there’s a blink of surprise lurking in his chestnut eyes. Especially now, with the sun casting golden glows on his hair and skin, he looks beautiful to you.

Painfully, it reminds you about how unrequited your feelings are. Not that Oikawa has ever outright rejected you or even acknowledged knowing anything of your feelings, but him reciprocating your feelings didn’t even cross your mind as a possibility most days. Not with the group of girls that are always vying for his attention; not when his ex-girlfriend was what everyone thought was his perfect match; not when he hadn’t even attempted a committed relationship since Yua-san broke up with him all those months ago.

“Y/N?” His voice drags you out of your train of thought. You realize that you had been staring at him this entire time.

You play off your thoughts with a roll of your eyes and turn your head back towards the park. “No,” you lie. “I just hear comments like that from your fan club all the time.”

He nods lightly, his eyebrows creasing. “Right. Right, of course.” You’re about to ask about the odd tone in his voice when he speaks again. “You never did answer my question. Why did Iwa-chan send you here?”

“He wanted me to make sure that you actually went home instead of finding somewhere else to practice,” you say. A chuckle escapes your lips. You’re happy for the change in topic.

“I am not that hard-headed!” You raise a brow at him. He pouts. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

“A little?”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Now you’re just being mean!”

“Yeah well, it’s payback. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

“In your ass, I hope.”

You try to keep the blush from your cheeks as your mind takes you in a completely different direction. Suddenly, the space between you two seems too small. “You might want to rethink what you just said.” You try not to stare at his mouth as it falls open, your mind still invading your thoughts with images that you should not be fantasizing about when he’s sitting right beside you.

“Wait.” Oikawa’s eyes go so comically wide that you almost forget your own embarrassment. “Jeez, that did not come out in the right way. Not right at all.” For what seems like the millionth time, he looks away from you, though this time it seems to be out of his own mortification over what he just said. There seems to be a blush to his cheeks, but you very well might have just imagined it.

You let out a laugh, your arms coming up to clutch at your side. “I cannot believe that you’re supposed to be the big hotshot volleyball player that every girl has a crush on. There is not a charming bone in your body. I refuse to believe it.”

Oikawa lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t have to charm you when you already love even the uncharming parts of me. But if anyone asks, I am completely perfect. There are no uncharming parts to Oikawa Tooru. Don’t you dare spread false rumors, Y/N-chan!”

An amused snort leaves you at his last three sentences, but you decide to respond on the first part of his words. “Me? Loving you? Very unlikely.” You tease, trying your hardest to keep a straight face when Oikawa begins to pout.

“If you don’t love me after all these years I will actually start crying right now and then those girls that follow me everywhere will come for your blood for making me cry.”

You chuckle again, catching yourself before you roll your eyes again. Next to you, Oikawa has his arms crossed with a convincing pout sitting on his lips that makes him look like a child. You smile despite yourself. “Okay, okay keep the dramatics to a minimum.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?

“Say that you love me.”

You feel a small pang as you plaster a smile on your face. “I mildly like you more than like,” you say, not really sure if you’d be able to say those three words to him at this point in time. Not when you know that they’re true.

Oikawa’s pout deepens, but you’re adamant on not saying more.

“That’s all you’re getting from me, Crappykawa.” Suddenly you find yourself amused at the way you managed to sound exactly like Iwaizumi. It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spent so much time with him.

“Call me pretty and I’ll drop it.”

“You’re so needy sometimes, you know that?”

“Very much aware, Y/N-chan. As if you and Iwa-chan would ever let me forget.”

An eye roll comes easy to you and this time you don’t try to stop it. At this point, an eye roll is almost like a natural reaction to anything Oikawa says. “Fine. I’ll admit you’re not bad too look at.”

“Not great, but I’ll take it,” he concludes. “I can slowly feel the crack in my ego being restored.”

“If you want to be complimented please go seek out the never-ending stream of girls and guys that come your way hoping for even an ounce of your attention.” You hope that he doesn’t notice the mild bitterness in your voice. “I’m almost positive that they’ll be willing to tell you just how pretty you are and how everyone in the world should be in love with you.”

“They should be, shouldn’t they?” Oikawa bemuses.

A laugh leaves your lips despite your efforts. “You are insufferable sometimes. I don’t understand why I’ve kept you around for so long.”

“There you go with the insults again,” he tskes. “Have you and Iwa-chan been spending time together without me?”

“Iwa and I are friends you know?”

“Yeah but you’re supposed to be my best friend,” he pouts.

“You already said that line to Iwaizumi yesterday when he opted to carry me instead of you.”

“Yeah, well … I met you before he did!”

“Because you threw a volleyball at my head!”

“It was an accident!”

Laugher spills from both of your lips at the memory. It isn’t until Oikawa’s hair brushes upon your shoulder during his laughter that you realize that the space between you and Oikawa had increasingly gotten smaller. He’s so close that your thighs are only centimeters apart.

As your laughter dies down, Oikawa’s bubbly personality begins to slip once more and the fatigue on his face becomes more evident. Eventually, he rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach flutter pleasantly at his proximity. Even now, you can smell the cologne he regularly wears, the one you helped pick out back in first-year that he’s worn ever since.

Once the silence lasts for a few moments, you finally attempt to ask him about practice once more. “Are you finally going to tell me why you didn’t fight back when Iwa threw you out of practice?”

He sighs. “I guess you can say that I’m a little bit tired. Plus my knee hurts like all hell has reigned down.” His voice is so much different from just moments before that it’s hard to believe that they come from the same person.

“You’re exhausted,” you say. It’s not a question, but more of a definite statement.

“More or less,” he responds quietly.

This time, it’s you that sighs. “Just … be careful. I get that you want to beat everyone and go to Nationals, but you’re no good to your team if you fuck your knee up so badly that you can’t play.”

“This year is our last chance,” he mumbles. “I just don’t want to look back later and wish that maybe I’d practiced just a little more.”

“You can’t beat anyone if you’re sitting on the bench from an injury that you got from overworking yourself.”

Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice. You almost feel guilty. Almost.

“You’re going to work yourself to death. Iwaizumi and I aren’t just going to stand by and watch you dig your own grave,” you say softly. “For his sake, at least. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try,” he says. For some reason, you believe him.

The two of you sit there in silence once more, the wind blowing lightly on your hair and the sounds of a busy town echoing around you. You wish that you could bottle this moment up and keep it with you forever, even if it’s only a testament to how much Oikawa values you as a best friend and nothing more.

The thought makes your stomach drop in the slightest bit. It’s usually easy to contain your depth of feelings for Oikawa when the air around you two is lively and joking, but you’ve found over the years that quiet moments like these are the ones that really tear at your heart.

He’ll never know the extent of your feelings for him, and you’re too afraid to wonder what would happen if he did know.

Oikawa turns his head only slightly to look up at you while still continuing to lean on your shoulder. “You okay?”

You give an almost imperceptible nod. “We should head home. I don’t know what Iwaizumi might do to you if he finds you out here after practice ends,” you say.

Oikawa nods and detaches his head from your shoulder.

The two of you have only walked a couple of meters when you hear a group of girls squeal from not too far away. Oikawa tenses from beside you.

“Your fanclub found you,” you say.

“I’m aware.”

He doesn’t make any move to look back at them or stop. Instead, his pace seems to speed up.

You furrow a brow. “You don’t want to talk to them? Thought you loved their attention?”

“Ouch. You really know how to wound a man, Y/N-chan,” he says with a small smile on his lips. You take notice of the weariness in his features. “But while I do enjoy them feeding my very justified ego, I am far too fatigued to deal with them.”

You nod and continue to walk beside him. The less interactions he has with his fan club, the better your mood will be. Besides, you weren’t going to fail Iwaizumi by not doing the one thing he asked you to do and not take Oikawa home.

A giggle reaches your ears once more, and you sneak a glance behind you. The girls are talking amongst themselves, but still obviously walking in the direction you’re headed in.

“Well, what do you wanna do? Cause they’re coming.”

Oikawa sighs and you notice a tick of irritation in his clenched jaw. You can see a million thoughts going through his mind, but before you can ask him about them, he reaches out to grab your hand.

“Is this okay? I’m just hoping that they’ll leave me alone if they think that you and I … uhm.”

Oikawa’s hands are long and calloused, but they feel nice as his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones. You try hard not to let the little gesture get to you. “Yeah … yeah of course.”

The two of you fall into silence again, mostly due to his fatigue and your inability to form coherent words that don’t have to do with his hand in yours. You’ve held hands with Oikawa before, but it was never with the intent to make you two look like a couple. You wish more than anything that he would break the silence before you blurt out something that you don’t want to.

Your wishes are answered when Oikawa asks, “They’re still following us, aren’t they?” Oikawa still doesn’t look back as he says it.

In your short reverie you had forgotten about the girls behind you. You sneak another glance at them and find that Oikawa’s assumption is correct.

“Yeah, they are.”

Oikawa makes an incoherent noise. “Y/N-chan, could you be a dear and describe what they look like? I have a feeling I know who exactly they are.”

You turn back again, and really take a good look at them. They’re pretty. Really pretty, you think. You wonder for a second what they could’ve done to make Oikawa so adamant on not speaking with them.

“There’s three girls. One with cropped red hair, one with long blonde hair, and one with brown hair in a high ponytail.”

“Oh, it’s them again. I don’t know what to do to get them to leave me alone at this point,” he sighs.

“Who are they? What’s going on?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Ichika-san and her friends. She sent me a love letter about a month ago. I tried to let her down easily, but it seems that she has yet to give up.”

“This girl is your stalker?”

“Not quite. At least, I hope not.”

The noise from behind you two gets increasingly louder. A giggle echoes on the mildly empty street and you catch Oikawa’s name being whispered between their conversations. Now that you’ve found out about what they’ve been putting him through, your annoyance spikes.

“Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I’m not keen on these girls finding out where you live.”

Oikawa is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in indecision. It seems that he makes up his mind when he turns his head to look at you. “Kiss me.”

Your step momentarily falters.

“What?”

He shakes your intertwined hands. “We’re already holding hands. They might get the memo if we …”

“Oh.”

“I .. I mean only if you want to. You don’t have to. I just figured that .. nevermind. It’s a spotty plan. They might still not leave us alone and --”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You weren’t going to pass up a chance at kissing him, even if it’s only for a diversion. This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anyways — you’d long since given up on him reciprocating your feelings, and this way you can kiss him while saving yourself from the possible embarrassment of rejection.

“You will?”

“Where’s the harm? It’s just a kiss right?” You can barely hear yourself talking over the beating of your heart. “Besides, it could work.”

Oikawa shoots you a grateful smile. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready then.”

You try to shake out your nerves and instead focus your time in looking at your surroundings. The sound of giggling is still in close range when you spot a tree nearby. It’s still pretty out in the open, but not so much that you and Oikawa might draw stares, at least not from anyone that isn’t a part of the group of girls behind you.

Gathering enough courage to not insanely mess this up, you tug on Oikawa’s hand to drag him with you in the direction of the tree. You make sure that you’re still in the line of sight of the three girls when you snake your arms around Oikawa’s neck and pull him down.

His lips are softer than you imagined, and you’ve imagined kissing them more times than you’re willing to admit. Pleasantly, he tastes like oranges, which you don’t quite understand, considering that you can’t seem to remember him ever being fond of oranges. But then again, you can’t quite think of anything besides the feeling of his lips on yours.

Your lips move fluidly against his, soft but not entirely without passion. It takes everything in you to not kiss him with the force that you want to be kissing him with.

Hands come down to grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him, gently placing a hand on the small of your back. You run your hands through his hair and wonder to yourself why you hadn’t ever played with his hair before. If you ever make it out of this with your senses still intact, you’d make playing with his hair a part of your regular routine.

He makes a small noise against your lips when you make the mistake of pulling a little too hard on his hair. His grip on you tightens.

You don’t know how long you two stand there, lips locked with each other, but Oikawa doesn’t make any move to pull away. Instead he deepens the kiss by running his tongue against your bottom lip and pulling you even closer. You stifle a noise that threatens to come from deep in your throat. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and tips your head so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He has fantastic lips, you think.

It’s only until you feel the air in your lungs begin to dwindle that you force yourself to pull away. The kiss lasted for longer than you expected, and by the way you pant with every breath, it feels like a kiss that the rest of the world should not have been privy to.

You keep your eyes closed for a moment more, wanting to savor the moment for just a little longer. The moment you open your eyes, you’ll have to come back to the reality that this was just a one-time thing. You’ll have to come back to reality and remember that this kiss likely doesn’t mean anything to him.

Slowly you open your eyes, and find that Oikawa’s already staring at you intently. His breathing comes out staggered, and his eyes have turned a few shades darker. What used to be a soft chestnut brown looks almost close to black. In them, you notice a flicker of an odd emotion that looks too familiar, but you don’t want to hope for anything.

You slide your hands down to his chest. His hands are still planted on your back and face, touching you both gently and carefully. “Did it work?” Your voice comes out small.

He seems to wake up from his trance then, and turns to look in the direction that the girls were before. You look behind you to see one of the girls running away with her head in her hands. Her two friends follow after her in an attempt to console her.

“I think it did,” he says. And what he says after is so quiet you almost believe that you imagine hearing it. “In more ways than one.”

part two will most likely be up on thursday next week :)

#oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #reader insert #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader

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bakubub · 3 years

Text

favourite time of year

w/c: 1.2k

written for @kal0psi-a 's halloween collab

folding the sticky dough carefully, just as the recipe instructed, i try my best to ignore the itching in my nose in a feeble attempt to stay concentrated, but give up when it starts to irritate my eyes.

"eughh, because of you there's flour in my nose," i complain to my boyfriend, who has his chin hooked over my shoulder and very heavily leaning over me.

"hey, don't complain! have you seen my hair?" he asks, stretching his neck to show me. sure enough, his hair is more white than it is black. i rake my hand through it before he can say anything, my dough covered hands clumping his hair together as an avalanche of flour sprinkles all over my chest.

he screeches, jumping back from me and i quickly use this chance to start running, because based on previous incidents, there's a 90% chance he will chase me relentlessly.

his cough from across the kitchen halts my escape plan, "are you happy now? i have flour in my nose too," he complains.

i watch in amusement as a cloud of flour puffs around him in the shape of a mushroom as he sneezes heavily, looking quite literally like a cartoon character and quickly near him to snap a picture. this will do nicely for the autumn section in this year's album.

since we started dating, tetsuro and i have been taking photos of one another, which we organise into albums by year, separated by season. it started when he gave me an album on our first anniversary, now, 6 years later and married, putting together an album of the past year has become tradition. each season we do an activity that correlates with the vibe, and today, we're making pumpkin pie with halloween shape indents because really, what else comes to mind when you think of fall?

i laugh loudly at the photo i took, his face caught mid sneeze, and it seems to flick the switch deep within tetsuro that i thought i had flicked earlier, and his feline gaze snaps to mine, before lurching forward in an attempt to catch me. i move just in the nick of time and run to the other side of the bench. he chases me until we're playing cat and mouse around the bench like children, slowly stalking one another as the other makes it as though they're backtracking but running forward instead.

"give up, wicked witch!" he exclaims, putting his right hand on his heart and holding the other outwards as he closes his eyes, apparently overwhelmed with emotion, "it is i, prince tetsu-" in the midst of his theatrics, i move in for the kill. his need for dramatics is most definitely his achille's heel, i think as i stab him in the hip with my fingers, and he yelps, opening his eyes only to find the mouse catching the cat.

"and the wicked witch of fall wins!" i yell, jumping up and down, getting flour all over the hardwood floors.

"fine, this round goes to you. your reward? a magical kiss from your prince charming," he says, leaning in and halting my celebration.

"the prince kisses the witch? haven't heard this fairy-tale before," i mutter before he silences me by placing a soft but unhurried kiss on my lips. my hands automatically make their way around his neck, and i lean back slightly as his hands firmly hold my waist, providing protection and support even in a moment as miniscule as this. in the glow of the autumn sunset, painting our kitchen with a golden hue, with the man i love in front of me, everything is perfect. we break off, his forehead leaning on mine, neither of us moving away.

"this is our fairy-tale, with its own happy ending."

looking up, I'm met with his golden brown stare, the small specks of gold especially visible in this lighting, practically glowing. his white turtle neck hugging his form nicely, and his raven hair sprinkled with flour, i can't help but wonder if this is what we're going to be like in the future, when we've lived our lives, and grown old together; the only indication of our age being the salt and pepper hair, and the slightly more prominent lines around our eyes from spending a lifetime of smiling.

because that's how it would be, i think, to have tetsuro next to me for eternity, to smile and to laugh every day.

he has to kneel down considerably to reach my lips with his own, to rest his forehead on mine, but the look on his face and the emotion in his familiar, beautiful eyes reflect nothing but comfort and content, genuine even as he says stupid and cliché things. in a way, he’s promising me nothing but a life full of the music of our happiness.

"i love you, witch," he whispers, as if afraid to ruin the moment by speaking.

i kiss him again, before pulling out my secret weapon and dumping more flour over his head. "love you too, prince!" i screech as i run away. i hear his chuckles as he chases after me, muttering empty promises of revenge just as he did before, and every other time, and hopefully, if my luck holds out, every time after.

---

"okay, nod gonna lie, dis ith really goo-dh" i say, speaking with a mouth full of the pumpkin pie we finally got around to baking.

i watch him snap a photo of me, smiling through my full mouth, knowing full well i have pie all over my mouth and teeth.

“you’ve never looked better, babe,” he says, chuckling, before trying it himself, moaning through his full mouth, "oh mhy gohd." i roll my eyes as he continues, "baby, thth is fudding amathing," he says, taking another, and then another bite.

“slow it down, moron. you’re going to choke and the wicked witch is going to have to ruin her comfy position to give you the heimlich,” i say, my legs crossed on the carpeted floor with my feet nice and warm in my thick panda bear socks.

“how abouth we sthip straighd to the kith of life?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a mouth full of pie.

"how about you shuffle the cards, prince? i'll pick a movie," i suggest, or rather order, raising my brows. he salutes sarcastically as he sets down his plate and goes to get our worn out deck of uno cards.

"i thought you were a witch, not a princess," he mutters once he swallows his pie.

"actually, i married the prince so that legally makes me a princess. c'mon tetsuro," i say, pressing play on a random comedy to play in the background.

with the fireplace going under the television, and our pumpkin spice and cinnamon candles lit, the room is cozy, warm and calm.

that is until tetsuro yells his profanities about me placing a 2+ on his 4+.

"THAT'S NOT ALLOWED! YOU CAN ONLY PLACE A 4+ ON TOP OF A 4+"

"since WHEN?! THIS WASN'T THE RULE LAST WEEK!" i scream back, refusing to back down. i am not picking up four cards. "i would never cheat. unlike YOU," i accuse, shoving another fork full of the pie into my mouth in defiance.

he dramatically gasps shoving a fork full of pie into his own mouth, and glares at me. i glare right back, both of us wordlessly agreeing that whoever loses the staring competition loses the uno argument. ignoring the burning in my eyes, i keep my expression neutral as i watch the tears building up in tetsuro's lashline, his right eye twitching and turning slightly red.

"YES!" i scream as he blinks, wiping his eyes and sighing dramatically before beginning to pick up six cards, unable to come up with an excuse.

i laugh mercilessly and we continue the game, which i ended up winning after he picked up another 12 cards, flashing me the 'please have mercy on me' eyes every time he reached for the deck.

"you really are a wicked little witch aren't you?" he mutters as he gets up. i snort in response, eating the last of my pie.

"i wanna another slice," he announces. "you want?" nodding eagerly, i give him my plate.

"i want a slice with a bat," i call out, referring to the misshapen shapes we cut out on the top layer of the pie.

when he came back, he halted at the door as he silently watches me set up face masks and mani-pedi equipment on the coffee table, the entire pie tray with two forks, instead of two slices, in his hands. i raised my eyebrows, and he mirrors my expression towards my makeshift salon on the floor of our living room.

we both shrug and he comes and sits next to me, picking up a face mask packet and reading the description.

"ooh! aloe vera!"

that's how we ended up watching shitty comedies all night with white face masks on and stomachs stuffed with pie.

---

laying in bed my head resting on tetsuro's shoulder and my hand rhythmically stroking his hair, i bask in the feeling of comfort and my mind being stress free. shielded from the cold night with a million blankets and the massive man sleeping next to me, with my especially cold, numb feet tucked under his thigh, i match my breathing with his easily as i follow after him into a deep slumber.

because that's what the season of autumn is about, really. taking it easy after the adventurous months that were spring and summer, to rewind and become a home-bug again as the weather cools down. and these moments with tetsuro?

these moments are what makes this my favourite time of year.

ahhh this was so, so fun!! special thanks to @/kal0psi-a for organising this entire collab <3

#2021 fall collab #collab event #collab #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x gn!reader #kuroo comfort #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo tetsuro #fall 2021

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i-love-hobbies · 3 years

Text

Eda's reckless behaviour and overall mental health

Summary

Eda is a genius, but is very emotional when making decisions (not anger, but fear, stress ect.)

Her reckless behaviour and apple blood problem in my opinion are her ways of running from reality.

In season 1 she made a bit of progress on this issue. Then the finale happened. Then she made again progress and s2ep7 did a complete reset. And she is making progress now again.

Eda's intelligence

She's been a criminal for thirty years. She has been in the shady business for an extremely long time. Yes magic definitely helps but you also have to find a way to be on top of the game, so you can survive.

Remember Tibbles' shrinking potion. She can't really use a lot of magic if she is shrinked or poisoned and dead, can she? Not to talk about her enemies which you'd think would attack her now that she is magicless.

They haven't on screen, yet. The only ones that tried are Adegast and Tibbles and they both died without her using any magic (or close to nothing).

Now we know that she doesn't make plans a lot on screen. In s2ep3 especially she just let's Luz make the plan but that's because she is her mentor.

In s2ep6 Luz used sleeping needles which is wild magic so no, it's not knowledge coming from Hexside. Also the pickpocketing Luz mentioned.

Teachers don't do the tests instead of students.

She teaches her everything that isn't glyphs. I wouldn't be surprised if she has told stories to Luz about her best "outsmarting everyone in the room" moments.

Now we have seen some of her problem solving on screen. One of which was in ep.18 fight only using her channelled magic trough the staff (im not taking credit for noticing this, have no idea who did though) and used the bridge.

Also if she can telepathically talk to her staff. Owlbert saving Luz was probably her idea.

She had her impact on Raine's rebellion as well, without having magic or turning into a harpy.

"You are not our mom!"

"Wow, we actually helped people this time!"

"Bye, mommy Eda!"

In the back of her head she knows exactly what to do, everytime something happens.

Eda's mental health

Eda's curse and the nightmares it causes. The father incident. The fact that she probably thought Lilith was scared of her.

Lilith's hidden guilt and her taking her father's eye out don't mix well together. I wouldn't be surprised if they barely spoke even if they lived in a house together.

Her losing Raine.

Her faith in the emporer being broken.

She has seen a lot of death, that does impact people.

Season 1

At the beginning of the series she was making a lot of bad choices which don't aline with her experience.

The series starts with her getting caught by Warden Wrath. Instead of just sneaking, they were just walking comfortably in the corridors.

They are kids, one from another dimension, but her... She doesn't know better? And for a paper crown that she can replace by stealing from someone else.

Next episode we are introduced to her morning drink later on confirmed to be for adults only. And that drink didn't get a mention for the rest of the season. In that episode she is also not the most clear-headed. She didn't try to sneak, she didn't use potions. Didn't try to plan.

A list about her being impatient can go on and on.

So when does she think. When she realises it's dangerous (aka when it's right in her face). Literally in the first episode the moment she started doing stuff is when she got caught and spat on the warden's face.

In episode 2 she didn't do that because she didn't know if Luz was alive and had a hard time bottling her feelings. Like if Luz proved to him to be hard to keep tight up he could have killed her, the girl that came back for her and her son yesterday. And she proved to Eda that she is a little dangerous the previous episode with her fireworks.

Eda was rational again, after she was with both King and Luz.

As the series went on though she started to calm down a bit.

Firstly, the fact that she was so focused on fixing her card problem, after Tibbles scammed her, that she trew them away in another dimension.

I was wondering how she overcame it so quickly.

It also shows her knowledge of how to handle this type of problems which brings up a question. How did she learn it?

Secondly let's compare the first half of the season to the second.

1. Everything I already pointed out and was hiding the curse. The stuff that happened in ep.5. Her refusal to be parental in ep.7. Body swapped.

2. She gets scammed again (this time though, how do you expect that someone was digging their own grave). Didn't use a sleeping spell on the slitherbeast immediately instead was just standing there. Got caught by the fun police. Worsened King's stage fright.

In ep.15 because of her ignorance Luz and Amity almost die. Except that is not the full story. She had at this point a lot of faith in Luz and this was her friend's mind.

For Amity it's not that she hated her. Amity actually saved her in ep.12. It's because she wasn't that important for her to realise. "Omg Willow is at the very least extremely mad at her."

It's again a refusal to think, but for a stranger and not really on purpose. It was just a habit of hers.

Episode 18 and 19

At the beginning of the episode. Eda hid the curse, again.

When she learned that Lilith had kidnapped Luz. She didn't try to make a plan. She just revealed herself in all her glory while her magic was disappearing.

Shot the staff in a wall while she was having no idea, what that was supposed to accomplish.

Luz showed up and she finally started thinking.

Afterwards Lilith said we all know what and for the first time Eda's anger was the leader of her choices and Luz almost fell on to the spikes.

So then, for the very least a night, she was stuck in her mind with something, that was chasing her. She woke up to Emporer Baby the B*tch, who was telling her, he was about to go after Luz.

And no she didn't believe in Lilith, but was so overwhelmed. It was insane. So she begged. After some more running, she woke up to Luz in the Comformatoriam.

Next, she was about to get petrified and for awhile this was the calmest things have been since she got caught. Then Lilith shows up (ah yes she existed).

King jumped "She was trying to help!". Wait King was there.

Petrification beam go.

PURE PAIN!

Then she got the idea for all of them to fly away. Lilith shared the curse making the confusion even bigger. Then her magic is gone (that was a thing). She learned that the portal is destroyed. Now she was living with Lilith and might have starved to death with everyone else in the house.

After all of this she not only tried but HAD TO pretend that she was mentally stable, so they could survive this mess.

Season 2A

In episode 1 she told Luz not to go after big bounties and then tried to steal from a coven's ship.

At this point her emotions are the only thing that made decisions while they were also getting hidden. Don't get me wrong she did help and should, especially Luz but it's ALL feelings. She didn't think about consequences, which sometimes are good.

She didn't attack Lilith cause it's just not the time, she's scared from her own anger. Plus she can't really stand being with the roller coaster of emotions, that came with being in one room with her.

This didn't mean she didn't work with her and hadn't listened to the backstory, though.

The episode ends with her and everyone else not being close to dieing. Finally!

So now what? She tried to think about Lilith? Yeah, she probably preferred not to.

Then her glyph almost kills King, but Lilith showed up and helped. This is probably a familiarity she missed. So again she decided not to process it, but it definitely sticks.

She also didn't notice Luz being hurt.

Next episode, we saw Eda taking a shower which means she has healthy coping mechanisms, at least one, self-care and is not yet a workaholic.

Luz's apple blood joke is concerning.

After the events of episode 3. Luz probably told her that Lilith stayed with her and King, instead of just leaving them, get killed by Jean-Luc.

Then Eda still isn't certain where she stands about everything and Lilith just left, with her final act being, giving King mental issues.

Throughout this whole thing her mom was there with her cures/annual accidental attempt to kill her favourite daughter.

In this episode, Eda fell for apple blood signs. Rationality is out of the window.

In ep.6 she decided to help, with students getting palisman. Again not thinking about all the trauma, but finally doing something against her first instinct.

In ep.7 she heard King's "Le-" and refused to fully process, where the heck is he gonna go.

She also punched someone, cause this is gonna work?

Now she has reconnected with Raine having no idea should she even think of a romantic relationship again? And decided to be useful at least for something since she "can't raise kids".

She was helping and being very good at it, but it came from fear of loneliness.

Then she heard that Belos has a plan and just is overwhelmed. What if the kids get hurt, is she powerless?

Oh, look! Raine might be dead!

Next episode she overworked herself.

In between ep.8 and 9 she was trying to scare the beast into transforming. (She is losing her sanity. Literally the previous episode told her not to do that.)

In episode 9 again it's all emotional. She wants to feel better and be stronger, so she told King to blast her (almost blasting Amity), hit fool's blood even though Amity said the lake is further ahead.

Luckily she showed progress too.

She ate voles, which was against how she was feeling.

In ep.10 she was scared of letting Luz in the portal. I'm not saying she wouldn't have before, but I don't think it was easy.

Right now, after s2ep10, I think she isn't the most mentally stable. But she is definitely working on it.

#toh #the owl house #eda clawthorne #toh eda #eda the owl lady #edalyn clawthorne #the owl lady #toh lilith

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incarnateirony · 3 years

Note

Do you know if the CW feels any impact from the audience of their shows in countries where they're not a channel? For example in Brazil there's no CW, but some of their shows are on the Warner Channel as well as stuff from other networks.

This one is a little more complicated, I'll start at "nyes".

Here's the thing: at the end of the day, the CW is an empty vessel. It has less than 400 employees, and technically even qualifies as a "small business" resultingly. It is an LLC, meaning it has no stocks, and can not be held accountable on the stock market and the executives there have a series of protections designed to keep them from taking personal hits.

Boycotting the CW is a method to plink the armor of its much larger parents. At the end of the day, the CW--shitty as its ethics, choices and influences are--are mostly beholden to its parent companies.

Does anyone remember when I told people, the second that Wayward was cancelled, that CBS was responsible, despite Wayward being a WB IP? I explicitly mentioned Moonves, and quoted his methodology on properties, ratings, streaming and more? Then dipshits like You Know Who tried to claim they knew better, and that I was crazy/stupid, and then like a month later one of the wayward women said at a M&G that the contractual breakdown was from CBS, and This Guy Named Moonves, and then there was radio silence and the You Know Whos emitted crickets, buried the conversation, and pretended it never happened?

That's because these things are related. They all influence each other, as per my last ask (x).

At the end of the day, the things that happened on, say, Supernatural are you actually being pissed at the WB. You can see the WB's historically failing Studio Responsibility Index on things like LGBT representation here at the GLAAD website. (x)

Just like a lot of the supreme BS attempted-but-massively-failing woke content tends to spew out of CBS trying to appeal to The Young Gays while segregating The Gay Stuff off their prime network that is historically way behind the others. They have no idea how to actually make or handle that content, but slap pride flags and a few Hashtag Fact phrases on content and plug it up the CW's ass to market it to you with more rainbows and a big impressive tally list of gay characters, that the You Know Whos of fandom insist make it a great representation channel, and bury the conversation that most of those are one-off or very minor characters, dead, or worse. They're there to hit a target that's a good talking point. Nothing else. They put a gay in the background of a poster somewhere so That Counts(tm) and look how progressive they are, make sure to attend his funeral next episode.

This may all seem like a huge aside to the initial ask but it's necessary framework to present, in association with the above-linked previous ask, on why holding the CW accountable is important. Because at the end of the day, be it the Nadria Tucker issues with WB/DC and their firing her for racist/sexist reasons; or the erasure of gays on Supernatural to the point there's clearly an order to their related syndication networks where they won't even air 15.09 or 15.18 again much less the finale; or the bullshit attempts at being woke on Walker where they think making ICE prisoners a talking point to launch a white man cop's story as relatable to an ICE officer's struggles is good marketing; to things outside of it, like--as posted by POLOL member Rebarn in the server,

-- these are people actually being mad at choices made by the CBS and WB. The CW is just a vessel to deliver it with minimal accountability and a PR mask people eat up like the gay candy they're trying to sell you even if it's just sugar free beaver anus flavoring.

But because of the size of these giant merged companies, like--trying to tackle WB head on for example is a fools' errand unless everyone pulled their heads out of their asses and ended this "I DO WHAT I WANT" personality and started heavily networking with say, DC fandoms and adjacent to do substantial damage to their franchises far larger. But, again, deferring to the above linked previous ask, if you knock out the CW as a content vehicle, even if it's smaller, you suddenly dent 6, 7, 8, 9 zeroes out of WB/CBS profits because you CAN knock down the CW, and change how they have to peddle their product.

To round full circle to your ask: just because the CW isn't in your country doesn't mean it does no good to boycott the content. Because the profit still goes to the IP holders (CBS, WB), and it's still part of the joint statement, as well as lowers the digital franchiseability of the products they're trying to resell on the market, internationally.

For example you know how internationally Netflix shows a lot of "Netflix originals" that are very obviously not originals, but are instead shows from other sources? That's part of The Rights Game. Initially CW and Netflix had a brokered deal of bulk packaging for a very large, very pretty price to them that helped bankroll them for years. This is also why CBS started shoveling absolute fodder content down the CW's throat that could run on just about negative ratings -- again, I point to the Moonves interview I cited as implication to why Wayward was bumped off the line -- so CBS could run away with the digital profits 100% licensing things in dozens or hundreds of companies. But CBS threw a goddamn hissyfit about merchandising rights when Netflix was like hey if we're gonna source all these shitty shows can we get like 10% of the merch value and CBS threw themselves on the mcdonalds playplace floor kicking and screaming, and then CW lost its legendary netflix deal which made them have to start peddling their content individually.

So if you cut off viewership of this content internationally, its franchiseability tanks, and CW continues to lose a huge part of its bankrolling value both with digital and to its parent companies using it as a vehicle to deliver content to shove into digital venues. The lack of the Netflix deal is why CBS is also wandering around like a pauper to platforms trying to find a home for its content--like convincing WB to host Walker on HBO Max, where I promise it's not going to do well. Most of its audience is beyond streaming age, and I promise no young 20 something is gonna open HBO Max and be like YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT TO WATCH, THIS YEEHAW COP REBOOT WITH JARED PADALECKI SPITTING IN A POT AND PULLING UP HIS PANTS. They're gonna fuckin' turn on Game of Thrones or something. Netflix, hulu, amazon don't fuckin' want it because they see that on the horizon. They're not gonna pay the money CBS wants for it. CBS All Access is for old people and they're too noncommittally fake woke just enough to piss off the Trumpers (points back to point about CBS content/representation way up there). So CBS DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT ON ITS OWN STREAMING PLATFORM.

Walker's housing arrangement on HBO Max is actually an early symptom of CW death throes, and CBS trying to figure out what the hell it's going to do once the CW goes under. It burned its netflix bridge, and soon won't have CW to try to float/sell/farm its content. Streaming apps don't want their content anymore. Their content underperforms.

So yes, absolutely boycott these products internationally. It adds to the weight of what's going on and continues to make CW less and less valuable on the front, continues to damage the actual IP holder parent companies and take their products to their knees, and continues to expediate the decline of it all in one network of fuckery. The same way the CW was a strength for its parents by webbing between them is now a way to drag them into a collective undertow and force bad business results on them all around, essentially inverting its value, expediting the rate at which they decide the CW is a money sink, and making them watch the 0s fly out of their bank account in a way that--say--trying to tackle the WB directly wouldn't accomplish.

CW no longer owns the rights to SPN, hence deleting its YT content. WB does. But WB has been feeling the crunch enough that brand new unopened S14 complete season blurays with specials are being sold under 10 dollars at walmart with 2$ off other movie tickets on the front and still not going off the shelves. That's them even trying to recover costs on releasing them to begin with. The WB tried to put out a mega 15 season uber collectors set giveaway enter by RT and got like, 300 RTs total. They need traction, they're not getting sales, and we're seeing the active results.

Continue to put heat on products that came by way of the CW as a result of their communal meddling being bad for business in any way possible, even after CW is no longer airing it and once the money is going straight into the IP holder parent company pockets. Not only are you then making The Correct People(tm) hurt, you're further devaluing the CW itself and accelerating its heat death which STILL will end up massively dinging the WB/CBS for reasons explained above in ways that kicking the titans in the shins itself wouldn't accomplish.

Hopefully that clarifies.

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ironwoodprotectionsquad · 2 years

Note

Taking a year off may not improve anything. Remember Game of Thrones? They did that and out came the worst rushed final seasons. The showrunners grew tired of the show. I think CRWBY are in a similar spot. The writing remains bad, the music turned passionless, and many VAs are just phoning it in. The island is a placeholder setting to put the girls in because they have no idea how to write the huge cast of characters assembled in Vacuo. It's also a plot detour to avoid the fallout from volume 8.

Hey anon! I do kind of have to agree it just feels like the writers don’t care about the story anymore and only really care about the money they can make from the show. It’s like they want to write for different character in a different setting which is why side characters get all the development and screen time rather then the mains who really deserve to have the spotlight. It’s sad that they’ve lost their love for the show but they really should at least try and find someone who’s passionate and wants to be writing for the show to take over because it does no one good to force yourself to keep writing for a series you clearly don’t love anymore.

It’s sad because once upon a time when a friend was first getting me into the series, she thought their would be something like 20 seasons and I was pumped. But now? The thought of the 12 seasons is painful and I hope it ends on 10 and doesn’t try and force three seasons for Vacuo. If they don’t want to find another set of writers then just...end it and focus on something you want to write.

But focusing on volume 9....yea unfortunately it very much so feels like them trying to avoid the girls having to face any sort of consequences. My worst nightmare is their being a time skip and everything from volume 8 has already resolved itsel9f and everyones moved on and ready to fight Salem whose been sitting on her ass for....IDK reasons? It just feels like once again CRWBY doesn’t want to admit the girls could ever make any mistakes no matter what and that makes for a dull and lifeless character and it sucks. The show and fans deserve so much better that such soulless writing. What happened to the magic from volume’s 1 through hell 6? It’s really the recent volumes that started falling flat. Even volume 7 had something and then volume 8....it just crashed and burned.

#RWDE #rwby bashing #rwby critical #rwby critique

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prettyboyjackhughes · 3 years

Text

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24 and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor.

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs.

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else.

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing.

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy.

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight. I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade.

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works.

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place.

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton.

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet.

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me.

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down.

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes.

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs.

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little.

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

“Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead.

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me.

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head.

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face.

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor.

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting.

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed.

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan.

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless.

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs.

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing.

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response.

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me.

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises.

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on.

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

“Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps.

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them.

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living.

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car.

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks.

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

“So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again.

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van.

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me.

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep.

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed.

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us.

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either.

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

“No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch.

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again.

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me.

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out.

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?” Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I.

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic.

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands.

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me.

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new.

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head.

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions.

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed.

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another.

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena.

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?

#sidney crosby #dylan cozens #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #Dylan Cozens imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey #hockey boys

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

Wolfstar x Friends (Truthful Thanksgiving Day!)

This is a wolfstar fanfic based on Friends’ season 6 episode 9: “The One Where Ross Got High.”

Remus realizes that he should go and check on Sirius and help him in setting the plates for today’s Thanksgiving dinner. Sirius has taken the lead in cooking department and was very emphatic about his dislike towards people interfering and commenting about his cooking skills, so Remus has been smart enough to steer clear from his way. However, as the game finishes at Marlene and Dorcas’ apartment, who were also their neighbors, Remus gets up and tells them that he’ll meet later. He is always hopeful when Marlene and Dorcas are left alone because there is always a chance was for them stop their pining and finally becomes more than just roommates.

He comes in his and Sirius’ apartment, and finds that Sirius is looking drop-dead gorgeous, wearing muggle clothes. Half buttoned red collar shirt, black pants and damp hair dripping into his silver eyes, which means he just came out from a shower as the scent of tropical shower gel is also mixing with the aroma of turkey filling the room. Sirius looks up when he senses his presence, and beams up with the widest smile. Remus smiles back but then the other one is smiling for too long, and also there is something strange about that smile—something uncomfortable—as if he is sitting on a cactus plant but struggling to pretend that all is well.

“So guess who’s coming to Thanksgiving dinner?” Sirius says, still smiling weirdly.

“Filch and Mrs. Norris?” Remus jokes, and flops down on the sofa in Sirius’ direction.

“I miss James.” Sirius rolls his eyes, “No, Effie and Monty!”

“Oh that’s great!” Remus relaxes, “They haven’t seen the place since I moved in.”

Suddenly, Sirius is grinning a little too wide, and looking anywhere but him.

“Yeah, and if you don’t mention that we live together that’ll be great! I was thinking about eating around 4!” He says all that in one breath, and Remus has to take a second to process of those words, and then it hit him.

“Why can’t I tell them that we live together?” Remus asks, trying his best to ignore the way Sirius was becoming jumpy and nervous as he starts to stir something white in the bowl.

“Cause they don’tknowthatwearedating. Do you think we should eat in the kitchen?”

“Why haven’t you told them?” Remus asks, a little confused.

“Well…ummm,” Sirius finally looks at him, his eyes guilty and soft, “I was going to, I really was, but at some part out of nowhere, I didn’t.”

Remus was too much concentrated on the way Sirius was becoming too much fidgety that it was almost entertaining to watch him, but he retaliates anyway.

“What!? Why haven’t you told them? Wouldn’t they be happy? I mean they mean so much to you! They are just as your parents as James’—“

“SO! DINNER IN THE KITCHEN AROUND FOUR! I’LL SEE YOU THEN!” Sirius’ voice is raised, and his face is a too sardonic to keep Remus from chuckling a little.

“Sirius…” Remus calls him in a singing voice which never fails to dissipate the tension from Sirius’ body, as he stops and looks at him with big puppy eyes, “Why wouldn’t they be happy?”

“Well, umm, because, umm mainly,” Remus is getting irritated until the other finally says, “They don’t like you.”

“WHAT!?” Remus is gaping at him because not even in his drunken mind he ever had the thought that James’ parents would not like hm. They were too good to take Sirius in as their second son, the Potters were the only pureblood family to be the best in their hospitality, and were very much embracing as they didn’t object when Sirius told them that he was gay.

“I’m sorry! Remus!” Sirius becomes jumpy again, advancing at Remus to calm him.

“Why! Why don’t they like me??”

“I don’t know…I mean maybe you are very quiet and sarcastic...and that may consider to be rude or something…or maybe because when you are reading, you don’t respond people who are trying to tell you an idea for making your bed a little hotter?”

Remus crosses his arms, looks at Sirius, deadpanned face.

“Is this why they don’t like me, or you don’t like me?”

Sirius smiles guiltily, “I know I should’ve told them, and I don’t really care what they think, love, but I’m sorry.”

“You know what, it’ll be okay!” Remus suddenly feels optimistic because of course, it’s not Sirius’ fault and he hates to see the guilt in his eyes, “Because when they come over, I will be all charming. I will make them fall in love with me, and then we’ll tell them.”

“You really think that would work?” Sirius’ silver eyes lights up.

“Hey, I can be pretty charming, babe. Won you over didn’t I?” Sirius laughs and leans in to brush his nose with his.

“I don’t think my parents would ever be a hopeless romantic like me.” They kiss the tension away, and then after waits for James, Peter and Marlene to come over for the dinner. Apparently, Dorcas have just moved in with Marlene, and according to her, she is going to meet some of her dancer friends to celebrate Thanksgiving, much to Marlene and Peter’s enthusiasm because Hot dancer friends and hopeless singles? Why Not?

The Potters comes to Sirius and Remus’ apartment, and there is all meet and greet session going on before Sirius exclaims, not at all coping with his subtlety, “Look! Look who it is! It’s Remus, Mom and Dad!”

“Oh it’s so great to see you, Remus.” Mrs. Potter smiles funnily, apparently not reaching her eyes, while Mr. Potter is just staring at him with his narrowing eyes but Remus is determined to change their impression about him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter, you look wonderful and it’s great to have you here! Let us take off your coats!” Remus can see the confused looking Potters, as he reaches for Mr Potter’s shoulder, “Woah! Snowing out in the Hollows?” He wants to slap himself for his needy sarcasm because there is a painful silence and Sirius is giving him THE glare.

“No.” Mr. Potter replies, walking away to sit in the living room.

“You are going to be fine, sweetheart.” Sirius slips his arm to tug Remus by his waist, “Just be yourself…but not too much.” He quickly pecks him on the cheek and scurries away to sit with the Potters.

In the meantime, Remus goes over to James who is in a heated discussion with Marlene.

“Hey, Prongs? Your parents like me, don’t they?” Remus asks.

“Pfft! Of course! They like you.” His eyes still on Marlene casting a delicate spell of the dessert Lily has made for the dinner.

“Pads just told me that they don’t?”

“Yeah, they don’t like you.” His eyes were still on the glass tray.

Sirius’ eyes are wandering around even though Mrs. Potter is talking to him with such amusement about her new neighbor.

“Honestly, Sirius, you should meet her! Her son is your age and is so cute—“ but she stops when Mr. Potter clears his throat a little prominently, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah I might stop myself, but you should meet him! He is such a nice kid.”

Remus can see the discomfort etched to Sirius’ face as he won’t stop scrunching his nose, but then he is gesturing him to come and sit among them. Remus does nothing but obey him.

“So, dad, Remus is one of James’ best friends! You remember him right?” Sirius beams up.

“James sure is a great guy!” Remus interjects, thinking hard of something eloquent and of course, charming, “I’ve always felt how a young man turns out as a reflection on his father.”

This pretty seems like a success, because there is nothing sarcastic about it. The tone was okay, the words were just fine, hope the smile is not too wide.

“Uh huh.” However, Mr. Potter doesn’t seem to cooperate with him as he takes a sip from his wine, and Sirius’ facial expressions are now coming out too strongly.

Mrs. Potter comes to sit beside Mr. Potter, and now James is here to with his stupid grin and messy hair.

“Oh, Mum!” Sirius jumps on his chair which almost jerks Remus out from his, “Remus was just saying that he likes your cardigan.”

“Oh, thank you, Remus. I just bought it.” Mrs. Potter is smiling which makes Remus excited.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s very beautiful! It’s crème colored and tight and—“ WHAT!? TIGHT!?

Now everyone is staring at him, and he couldn’t feel more mortified.

“I did not mean tight—I mean not too tight—not that I was looking—I mean why would I look because I’m—“

Sirius elbows him to stop. James doesn’t stop sniggering, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter has a resigned look on their faces.

“What’s the matter with him?” Mr. Potter is now whispering but werewolves can hear still, right?

“I think he’s stoned again.” Mrs. Potter whispers back before Sirius gasps. Oh he heard that, too.

“What?” He is glaring now.

“Dude! I need to talk to you.” James is flushed red as he grabs Remus by his arm, dragging him to the room. Remus is feeling hot and cold, and he has an urge to hit someone in the face. Maybe James.

Once there were in the room, James begins, “Okay…I think I know why my parents don’t like you.”

“You do!? Why?”

“Okay look, we were young,” James chuckles hesitantly but Remus doesn’t join, “Okay, after fourth year, summer holidays happened. I got high in my bedroom. And then my parents walked in and smells it. So I said that you were here who got stoned and jumped out of my window to escape.”

“What!? Why did you do that!?” Remus is almost there in hitting the other’s face.

“I don’t know…you were the first name that popped in my head. I’m sorry!”

“What about Sirius!?”

“I knew that wouldn’t be believable because he comes from Noble house of Black! But look I didn’t think it would matter—“

“How can that not matter!?” Remus is surprised at his voice becoming so high-pitched.

“How was I supposed to know that we’ll become closer after you told us about your furry little problem? And also and most importantly how was I supposed to know that you’ll end up living with Sirius after Hogwarts, who happens now to be my adopted brother!”

“What about that all Friends Forever stuff?”

“I don’t know…I was all high…” James is trying his best to make out puppy eyes, but no, Remus is not going to fall for them

Then the door is slammed shut as an angry looking Sirius is in the room. Remus turns to face him, and he looks very cute. Is this the time? Says a small voice in his brain.

“Mum and Dad sent me here to find out that if you” He points at Remus, “were getting James stoned!?”

Remus tells everything in one breathe, and is little entertained to watch Sirius getting enraged as if someone has lit him up by fire. Before Remus knows it he is lunging at James to rip him out.

“You’re—dead! Son of—“ He is hitting, but more like pinching, squeezing James, who is murmuring ‘sorry’s’ Remus pulls his boyfriend back, as much as he is enjoying the fight, he knows that it’s no use of getting defensive at each other because the problem still lies within.

“Look, that’s not going to help. James, you tell the truth to your parents.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay I’ll tell them.” James sets his dangling glasses on the bridge of his nose, while Sirius is still glaring daggers at him. He slips out of the room carefully away from Sirius’ thundering rage, leaving him and Remus alone in the room.

“Okay, so I guess it will be alright.” Sirius sighs, looking extremely tempting. Remus holds him by the waist which seeps away the tension from Sirius’ body. He makes a humming sound and buries his face in the taller boy’s chest.

“I’m glad you’re shorter than me.” Remus says in his hair

“Why?” A very grumpy and muffled voice reaches him, immediately making him laugh.

“Because you can relax your whole self in my arms when you are having a tough day.”

There is silence but Sirius has held him a little tighter now, then the muffled voice returns again, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The dinner goes on, and clearly James is trying his best to avoid the conversation with his parents.

“Why is it so important for Sirius?” Marlene says to Remus while eating the leftover yams from Lily’s plate, “I mean he doesn’t have to care. Just tell Mr. and Mrs. Potter that you guys are dating and living together, going to get married soon, and have kids like a happily after…”

Remus is staring at her how she is not at all interested, while making eyes at Dorcas who has just stopped by to borrow a bowl for her party.

“Is there something in your yams? Or is that just the effect of pining after your roommate?”

“Shut up.” Marlene scoffs, finally meeting his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“The Potters are Sirius’ only family. Can’t you see they call him ‘son’ and he calls them ‘Mom and Dad.’ He needs their approval too, and I understand that. I would have felt the same if my parents didn’t like Sirius which they don’t the way I want them to, because apparently he is a Black.”

“Yeah, but come on, your parent at least know that you guys are serious about each other. I meant SIRIUS.”

“Ha-Ha. That joke’s a hundred million years older now.”

The dessert is served, and nobody is looking forward to the mishap Lily has done. Trifle! Who doesn’t like a trifle? Except that it is not a complete trifle but also a shepherd’s pie. So it’s a no-no.

“It tastes like feet!” Peter whispers harshly when everyone has left from kitchen to the living room.

“I like it.” Remus snapped his head up from his plate to see Marlene eating it passionately.

“Are you kidding?” He snorts.

“Well, what’s not to like? Custard? Good! Jam? Gooood! Beef? GOOOOOD!!”

Remus can say he is not that surprised because Marlene has two most foremost things in her life which includes food and being a raging lesbian.

Sirius has thrown his dessert from the balcony, and is currently convincing Lily that a pigeon ruined his dessert.

“So the bird grabbed it? And try to fly away with it…and then just dropped in on the street?” She asks, utterly confused.

“But if it’s any consolation before the pigeon dropped it, he seems to enjoy it.” Sirius replies while Remus has to keep a hand on his mouth to secure the laughter bubbling out of him.

James is still sitting with Marlene and Peter, not making any effort to do his job. Sirius glares at him probably the fourteenth time.

“James, let’s go.” He says, as Remus is sitting in the living room, watching the scene.

“Oh yeah, about telling Mom and Dad, I was thinking maybe writing a letter.” He tries to laugh with Sirius who has a stony face.

“You know what, you had your chance.” He turns away to step towards Mr. and Mrs. Potter sitting on the couch. “Mom, Dad, James smoked weed in fourth year.”

“What!?” They both says in a unison.

“You are such a tattletale!” James hisses, and then sheepishly sits in front of his parents, “Mom, Dad…umm remember in the summer holidays, when you walked in my room and smelled the you-know-what.”

“Yes.” His parents says in unison again, but this time their glares are fixed at Remus.

“Well, I told you it was Remus who smoked it but it was me…I am sorry…”

“It was you?” Mrs. Potter looks hurt. However, Remus can see Sirius still not looking contented with the situation.

“And, Dad, you know that employee who you fired from your hair potion company, he didn’t burst the batch of glass bottles, James did!”

James looks stunned as Mr. Potter is looking at him with a disappointed look.

“The chandelier in the dining hall didn’t break because of the thunderstorm coming from the opened window, Sirius’ spell did!” James retorts.

“James has been suspended from working in the Ministry for eight months!”

The Potters gasps.

“SIRIUS AND REMUS ARE LIVING TOGETHER!” It was Remus’ turn to gasp, but Sirius was raging like a dog who has been hit on its tail.

“JAMES MARRIED MY BROTHER WHILE HE WAS DRUNK, THEN GOT DIVORCED!”

“I’m in love with my roommate!” Marlene yells from her table.

“I wasn’t supposed to put beef in the trifle.” Lily says apologetically.

“I WANNA GOOOO!” Peter shouts, looking bored.

Remus is taking a while to process all of that has happened but eager to see how the Mr. and Mrs. Potter are going to deal with it.

“That’s a lot of information to get in 30 seconds.” Mr. Potter is rubbing his temples.

But then Mrs. Potter stands up, “Peter, if you want to leave just leave.”

“And no, Lily dear, you were not supposed to put beef in the dessert. It did not taste good.”

Lily looks sad, but Marlene is convincing her that she loved it.

“And I’m sorry, Marlene, but I think you should start by confessing your feelings to your roommate.” Mrs. Potter continues. “Sirius, love,” She smiles at him, “Why did you have to hide the fact that your important relationship is beyond me?”

“And we kind of figured about the broken chandelier, son.” Mr. Potter is also smiling now.

“James…” Mrs. Potter turns to her son with an upset look, “Drugs…Divorce?”

“What happened, son?” Mr. Potter asks.

“I got tricked into all those things…” James tries to defend himself but actually trails off.

Remus feels his heart thudding in his chest.

“Remus!” Mrs. Potter exclaims and he abruptly stands up from his chair, “You’ve been James’ best friend all these years, stuck by fighting his drug problem!”

James huffs while Sirius snorts.

“And now you take in up on Sirius as well! I don’t know what to say...” Mrs. Potter chuckles and then says, “You are a wonderful human being!”

Remus almost screams, “Thank you!”

“No, Thank” Mr. Potter gets up and kisses Remus’ cheek, “YOU!”

Remus can feel that he has never smiled so wide.

“James and Sirius, I don’t know what I am going to do about the two of you.”

They both look miserable, and Remus can recall their Hogwarts times when they would receive detentions and Mcgonacall would ask him to make the two of them realize their mistake and never do it again.

“I’ll talk to them.” Remus says, smiling ear to ear, as he is sandwiched in Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s embrace.

#wolfstar #Wolfstar fanfiction #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar x friends #thanksgiving #James Potter #magical au #post hogwarts #Lily Evans #dorlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #peter pettigrew #Potters #Sirius is Monica #Remus is chandler #James is Ross

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