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scaryscarecrows · 1 year

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Antoine doesn’t bother knocking. He hasn’t for years and he’s not about to start now. Besides, his hands are full. It’s all he can do to open the door in the first place.

No one’s in the hall, but he’s stolen from the kitchen enough times to know where it is. It’s in the back of the house, next to the dining room–

“Who the Hell–”

“Shit–”

Once the mutual flailing and terror stops (and the tart is unharmed!) he realizes the person he about walked into is just Dove.

…

She looks exhausted. He’s not surprised, given all that’s happened, but she really does look terrible; dark circles for days and the painful sallow color from not sleeping. He probably doesn’t look much better, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and holds out the tart in apology.

“My sister sent this over,” he says, like he didn’t almost just die of fright. “I guess the pear trees were a little overzealous this season.”

“I’ll thank her when I see her,” Dove says, sounding like she also almost just died of fright. “Come on, you can put it in the kitchen.”

The kitchen hasn’t changed. He remembers being ten years old and sneaking in here to grab fruit–or better, cookies–off the counter. The cabinets had seemed high, then, high enough that he and Jason had had to carefully sneak chairs in to get into them (and been caught more than once). Now, it’s just a matter of reaching up and pulling one open.

He sets the tart down and swipes an apple from the bowl (he’s had enough pears in the last four days to see him through the season, he will swear on that). Before he can bite into it to lay claim, Dove’s pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good you made it back,” she says roughly. “I didn’t see you at first and with Jason–” Yeah. With Jason. “Thank God you made it back.”

Some days, he’s not sure he did. He wakes up to squeaking so loud he’d swear they were in the house, to horses screaming in fear and to the overwhelming scent of blood.

He hugs her back all the same, wishing he could be ten again.

“How’s Jay?” he asks her, once he’s bitten into his apple. Easier to have the grounding apple flavor for this, because the last time he and Jason had any sort of conversation, Jason had been busy dying and making him promise to tell Dove m’sorry, m’so sorry, she was right, I never…

It wasn’t pretty, that’s all.

“Better,” she says. “A bit. The doctor thinks he’ll be all right.” It’s something. He’ll take it. “You can go poke your head in, if you want. If he’s asleep, out, but you can say hi if he’s not.”

“I think I’ll do that.”

“Only for a minute!” she calls after him, and yeah, sure, only for a minute.

He’s not asleep. He’s lying in bed, obviously, but he’s awake, looking at the fire with a closed book on his chest. He’s pale and his breathing is still rough and for one awful minute, all Antoine can think is that they never made it home, that they’re still in the damn woods and that he’s stuck here watching his oldest friend die over his stupid fucking heroics and–

S’okay. S’okay.

Antoine raps on the frame and informs Jason, because somebody should, “You look like complete shit.”

“Choke, asshole,” Jason says, but he’s grinning anyway. “How’d you get here?”

“Dove let me.” He pulls the desk chair out enough so he can fling his boots onto the footboard. “My sister sent over a pear tart.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re busy almost dying and she wanted to give Dove a break.” Jason throws a scrap of yarn at him. It…doesn’t even reach the foot of the bed, to be honest. “So she told me, ‘he’s your stupid friend, you take it over’, like it’s somehow my fault you got stabbed.”

“Your sister scares me.” Jason levers himself upright and stacks his pillows behind him. “The army should take her, this would all be over by next Tuesday.”

“It would.” Now that he’s sitting up, he looks…well, he doesn’t look better, but he looks less dead. “How the hell are you still alive?”

“God and the Devil are fighting over who has to take me,” is the flippant reply, like his face isn’t still creased with pain. “You didn’t run into any trouble, did you? With the kids?”

It had been a silent, frantic push. The girl–Amicia–had managed to get it together well enough, for the most part, but her brother had been a little more upset. Fair enough, he’s what, eight?

What kind of monster hunts down a eight year-old?

“Nah,” he says, realizing belatedly that he hasn’t answered, even though they had this conversation before. Jason was…really, really not okay, though, so. “Nah, didn’t even see a deer.”

The fire snaps and they both flinch, Jason’s hand going out to where his sword’s been for two years and Antoine reaching back on instinct for an arrow he doesn’t have– shit–

Just the fire. Just the fire. Not the rats, it’s not…

They’d both accepted, mostly, that there was a very real possibility of dying horribly when they left home. They’d agreed to that. What they hadn’t agreed to, what nobody had agreed to, was the possibility of being eaten alive by swarms of rats.

Here, now, it seems insane. Rats swarming over a grown man in full armor and eating him in seconds? Preposterous. He’s only brought it up once, to his sister, the night he got back. They’d both had a bit to drink and even then, she hadn’t really believed him.

Jason goes slack, breathing hard, and murmurs, “I don’t want it out, but I could do without the sudden noises.”

That’s the thing, isn’t it. Every little darting shadow, or sudden noise, and he’s straightening up and straining to see any place at all where the damn things could get in. And as terrible as it is, he’s glad he’s not the only one.

“Did Dove believe you?”

“Not really. I didn’t…she’s already upset. ‘Cause of me.” He gestures towards his stomach. “I didn’t push it.”

“Honestly, it’s probably for the best,” Antoine admits. “We thought we’d brought you home to bury you.”

“What about you? You share any fun stories?”

“My sister’s skeptical, and I don’t want my nephew hearing anything, so. I let it go.”

They fall silent. Jason returns his attention to the fire, breathing slowly. Antoine sighs, settles into the chair a little more, and tries to remember what it was like not to panic at sudden noises.

He can’t.

“Yknow,” Jason says suddenly, “I could still die.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, no. Listen. Somebody sent muffins over yesterday, I know they’re down there. But I can’t exactly make it downstairs on my own.”

“Don’t involve me.”

“Think of the guilt you’d suffer if I up and keel without having one.”

Honestly, he wouldn’t. However, depending on where the muffins came from, they could be worth swiping.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But if I get caught, I’m dragging you down with me.”

THE END

#jason todd #antoine drouot #dove marquis #why do they kick me?#emotional damage #plague tale 'verse

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triscribeaucollection · 2 months

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Trials of Youth Ch 8

(A centaur, minotaur, and kitsune walk into an ambush... except it's the Goddess of Fate who wants a quick word. And to provide them with snacks)

(Aka I'm trying to trick my brain into working on the next chapter of my second book, and it is. Proving Uncooperative. So here, have some teenage shenanigans and tell me what y'all think)

---

“You can’t be serious.”

Lepl winced, and tried to give his best friend a discouraging poke in the ribs. But Mifu just batted his hand away, scowling at their third companion.

Sana, in return, folded her arms and glared back up at him. “I’m perfectly serious. As long as it’s here, why not use the road?”

“Because it’s an Arriv road! As in, Arriv use it! And if we try to do the same, we’ll almost certainly get caught!”

“Almost,” Sana pointed out, “Is not the same as absolute. Besides, I can smell any Arriv coming half a mile away! We’ll have plenty of time to vanish up into the long grass-”

Before he could second guess himself, Lepl coughed. “Uh, no. You can vanish into the grass, sure. Me and Mifu? Not so much.”

To her credit, the kitsune actually paused to consider his point. “...fine. Maybe we won’t use the road, then, but we can still travel alongside it. Or is that also too risky for your tastes?”

Mifu’s scowl deepened, his tail swishing with annoyance at Sana’s tone. But he didn’t protest further, and soon enough the three of them set off, winding through the low sloped hills that lined the stone causeway.

Lepl was used to temporary hoof-paths through grass, or the odd track worn down to bare dirt, and part of him felt sorely tempted to go take a look at how the road was crafted. But the rest of him knew good and well Mifu would pitch the all-mightiest of fits if he tried, so that was out. Instead, to keep himself occupied, the minotaur reached into one of the packs slung across Mifu’s lower back and dug around for his thread kit.

While the boys maintained a steady gait, Sana kept periodically darting up the hills around them, nose raised to the sky, ears twitching as she turned in place to scan their surroundings. It took a few back and forth passes for her to notice the frame in Lepl’s hands. “What are you doing?”

“Weaving,” he answered.

Face scrunching up, she drifted closer for a better look. “That little thing is a loom?”

“Sure is.” Lepl briefly paused running his needle through the vertical strands, and held it out for her to see. “My grandmother notched and put the bones together for the frame ages ago, when bad storms kept us inside the entire cold season and I was bored. My hands are bigger now, but I still like to use this one instead of something larger.”

“For what? You can’t possibly make any useful sized cloth on that.”

Mifu snorted. “He gives everything he makes to my father. Sew enough small squares together and they become a blanket just fine; an extra warm one, too, if you double layer it and stuff the inside with dry grass.”

Sana’s head stayed tipped to one side as she watched Lepl resume his work. “...I’ll take your word for it.”

But she didn’t go on ahead of them again. Instead, the kitsune stayed by Lepl’s side, paying attention to how he switched between dark and light shades of blue yarn, gradually adding more layers to his small bit of cloth. Apparently it proved so interesting for her that the woodsmoke ahead never registered.

The three of them came around the edge of a particularly wide hill, and walked right into a small campsite.

Lepl tripped and nearly fell flat on his face. Mifu froze with a front leg still raised off the ground. Sana’s hands leapt towards her weaponry. And the little old Arriv - drab green skin, with long hair wrapped up in a scarf, but did that mean a goblin or orc - just kept on turning the odd contraption set up over her fire. The scent of roasting sweet nuts filled the air.

“Don’t fret yourselves, now,” the Arriv called, without looking over her shoulder. “You don’t cause me any trouble, I won’t cause you any either.”

Sana promptly snarled, leaping to place herself in front of the boys, but didn’t draw either of her blades. “You’re trespassing, goblin.”

“Oh? This is the Borderlands territory, child. I believe that means you must be trespassing as well.”

Another snarl made Lepl slowly reach forward, and curl his hand around Sana’s shoulder. “No trouble intended, uh, ma’am. We’ll just go around, now.”

The goblin hummed. She picked up an empty cloth pouch, and used a thin metal rod and hook to tip over her spinning pot contraption, pouring roasted nuts into the bag. “You’ll hit the town of Plaimik in another day or so, if you keep following the road. They’re rather famous around these parts, if you didn’t know.”

Lepl exchanged a wary glance with Mifu, who asked, “Famous for, what, exactly?”

“Biggest gladiator arena of any slave town in the Borderlands. If you aren’t trying to go there, I’d suggest heading at least half a day north in order to go around.”

She’d been trembling faintly when Lepl first touched her, but at that, Sana went completely still beneath his hand. “...what’s it matter to you?”

“Oh, very much or very little, depending on your choices.” The goblin plucked a nut back out of the pouch, and popped it into her mouth.

“That is not an answer.”

“Would you prefer I stay silent and not say anything at all?” Chuckling lightly, the goblin pulled the pouch’s drawstring closed, and then- then tossed it to Mifu, who caught the thing with a startled yelp. “A parting gift, as thanks for not attacking my little old self. Go to Plaimik or sneak around, as you will, but I won’t let anyone claim Shan let them leave without some token or other.”

“Uhh... thank you?” Mifu poked the pouch cautiously. Lepl leaned a little closer and breathed deeply through his nose, mouth already watering. The goblin only chuckled again, turning back to her fire and picking up a larger sack to pour more nuts into the pot contraption. Lepl backed up first, pulling Sana along with Mifu right behind them, and they went around the hill to continue onward. “...are we going north?”

“Of course not,” Sana snapped, shoulders still clearly tense even after she shrugged off Lepl’s hand. “I can’t afford to lose that much time. And we are not eating those!”

“Why not?” Lepl asked. “They smell good. And she ate one, so they can’t be poisoned.”

“Like there aren’t herbs that don’t affect Arriv but will kill Amkyn!”

Mifu rolled his eyes and let Lepl snag the still-warm pouch from his hands. “I think you’ve got that backwards. There’s only a few things bad for Amkyn across the board, but plenty of stuff that won’t bother our stomachs while doing awful things to Arriv who try to eat them.”

Sana muttered something rude, but at least didn’t try to stop Lepl from tossing a couple of nuts in his mouth and crunching down. “Ooh - these are tasty! Mifu, try some!”

The two of them managed to work through most of the pouch by the time Sana relented, and stole the remaining nuts for herself.

#original writing #turning point trilogy #trials of youth #sana swift-tail #mifu oyatusen #lepl lehsayo #may I interest you in some teenage adventurers in these trying times?

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lisa-the-lighthearted · 7 months

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❤️, 💥,💛, and 🎬 pretty please?

What is your favorite line you’ve written in a fic?

Probably (actually no, definitely) the line, “To say that I am her father, that is my greatest victory.” From the last chapter of The Butcher’s Daughter. I cry sometimes while writing (is that normal? Lol! 😅) but there was something about that line that was such a gut punch. And still is every time I revisit it. It’s just exactly what William would have said under those circumstances. Almost feels like I didn’t write it, he did. 💖

What is one canon thing you wish you could change?

There are a lot of little things in the movie that needed to be fleshed out more. The worst offender, in my opinion, is Charlotte and Benjamin’s relationship. It’s just so… weird. There’s clearly a history there. Like maybe he was in love with her but married her sister because she was the eldest? Something like that would make better sense than how it is presented in the movie. Which reads more like, “You’re not your sister. But I guess you’re the next best thing. I’ll marry you now because you vaguely remind me of her.” 🤨 I dunno.

Fancast?

I have a couple. Like I’ve always mentally cast Elle Fanning as Annabelle/Marigold/Mabel. Especially after seeing her play Mary Shelley! Elle has this default as such a cheerful, adorable little ray of sunshine… but her range! My God! I could go on about her all day, she’s probably my favorite actress of all time! Hannah New’s character in Black Sails was my inspiration for Sylvia. Oh! And I think Georgia King would be brilliant as Giselle- she was SO funny in Austenland… but considering Giselle was originally designed after Ksenia Solo’s portrayal of Peggy Shippen in Turn: Washington’s spies… I’d probably hypothetically have to take both actresses to a craft store somewhere and see which one has the most convincing freakout over a yarn sale! Lol!

What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

Sounds cheesy but… just have fun with it! And if you find that it ever stops being fun, step away from it for a while. This is challenging because, as writers, we fall in love with our projects. I am over the moon, madly in love with Waterford and everything that it has developed into after years of writing about it. But it is very far from canon and definitely not everybody’s cup of tea. The readership has always been pretty low, save for a few loyal, wonderful and supportive readers who have been with it from the beginning! (Like you! 🥰💖) Whenever I get discouraged, I just have to remind myself that I am doing this for fun and I fell in love with this project in the first place because it is fun!

Thank you so much for the asks, my wonderful friend and also just… I know I say this often, but words always seem to fall short here… thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading my work and for engaging with it. Writing, as you surely know, can be such a lonely thing, but having readers who make you feel seen and heard and appreciated… that is the greatest gift any creative could ever receive. 🥹💖🥰

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

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I’m jumping on the baby fever train! Choo choo. But I don’t have any money for a ticket. I’m a transient riding the rails with my stick and bindle. all I can offer you is half a tin of beans and the company of a scraggly dog that follows me on my travels. I’ll let you pet the mutt I’ve named Sparkplug if you’d be so kind to spin me a little yarn about Santi having a baby with a reader with whom he had a one night fling…. *shakes can of beans at you* I’ll even let you have the first bite o beans.

Why thank you!! I will let you take the first bite of beans if I can sit next to Sparkplug. May I call him Sparky?

Alright, heat those beans up while I weave this tale (this tale that got too long, oh my god I hope the beans are still warm)

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, angst, ends in fluff

It's hard to tell Santiago what happened

He gave you his number, but he did so in a way that he obviously doesn't expect you to use it.

It was in like a passing, 'let's get dinner some time' but said in a way that he clearly never expects to see you...Ever again.

So when you use the number, when you call and not text, he sounds confused. Confusion melts to flirty intrigue, jokes about coming back for seconds.

You ask him to meet you for coffee. You barely know this guy, this is big news. A public space would be better.

Santiago comes in all cocky, grinning. He must assume you're gonna fuck in the bathroom.

You wait until he's two sips into his coffee to tell him that you're pregnant.

You try not to be too offended when he asks, "Are you sure it's mine?"

"You're the only person I've had sex with since, like, last year, so...Yeah.”

Santiago leans back in his seat, eyes sweeping your face before he turns back down to his cup of coffee. You can see his jaw working.

"What do you wanna do?" He asks.

You've been asking yourself that since you found out. You haven't told anyone in your family about this, none of your friends. You've been stewing and worrying alone.

"...I don't know." It comes out of you quietly, shaking like a rattle.

Santiago doesn't coddle you. He doesn't tell you that it's going to be alright. He just tells you that he'll support whatever you wanna do.

"What if I wanna have it?" You ask.

"I'm not gonna try and stop you."

"Would you want to be involved?"

Santiago sighs, and your chest twists with discomfort. You have to stop yourself from raising your hand to protectively and defensively rest on your stomach.

“With what I do, I’m not...I don’t spend most of my time in the States.”

“What do you do?”

“Is that important?”

“That’s a pretty stupid question if I’m gonna have your kid.”

Santiago grimaces, leans in and lowers his voice, and tells you.

It’s startling, but not wholly surprising. You’d seen the scars, the dog tags.

“Look,” Santiago adds. “I’m just—I’m trying to set your expectations here. If you decide to have it, I’m not necessarily going to be around.”

“No, I—” You shake your head. “I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

Santiago nods a touch, though he doesn’t seem to believe you.

“I’m leaving at the end of the week,” He says. “Think you’ll decide by then?”

“Maybe.”

“...Don’t rush it. I was just wondering.”

And then Santiago slides out of the booth. “You’ve got my number. Let me know.”

You do let him know. You call him two weeks later, and tell him that you’re keeping it.

“...Alright,” He says.

You don’t ask if he wants to be involved, if he’s mad at you. They’re answers that you’re not sure you want.

“I’ll send you updates if you want updates,” You tell him. “Either way—You know, no worries.”

“...Sure.”

The space that he puts into these answers is concerning, but you try not to read into it.

“Bye, then.” You hang up without another word and toss the phone onto your bed. Then you look down at your belly and poke it. “Guess it’s just you and me, huh, kid?”

You send Santiago updates.

You start getting checks. When you text him about them, he just says, ‘Baby shit is expensive’.

He tells you he won’t take any of it back, even when you try. The two of you settle on an amount for him to send regularly.

You only send him ultrasounds and doctor’s notes—not pictures of the bump, or thoughts that you have on names, or the progress of the nursery.

You’re eight months along when your buzzer rings late at night. You frown, pushing yourself up from the couch and setting aside your nearly-decimated pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Who’s that?” You murmur to your belly as you head for the door. You press the ‘talk button’ and ask who it is.

When Santiago’s voice crackles through, you’re briefly stunned. And then you hit the ‘open’ button.

You stare down at your maternity PJs, and the swell of your belly peeking out between your sweatpants and top.

When there’s a knock on the door, you jump just a little. You take in a deep breath and swallow thickly before you open the door.

Santiago looks as surprised to be there as you are. He searches your face for a moment before he says, “Hi.”

“Hello.”

His eyes drop to the swell of your belly and his mouth works wordlessly for just a second. Then he asks, “Can I come in?”

It’s weird being around him. There’s no crackling sexuality between the two of you as there was that first night, and far less tension between the two of you than there was at the coffee shop.

Santiago just looks around, then down the hall. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, and you nod, saying, “The one on the left.”

Santiago goes, and you follow. He takes his time after he flicks on the light, looking around the cool mint green of the nursery—the crib, the toys, the rocking chair, the changing table and dresser.

“...You’ve got clothes?”

“In the dresser and the closet.”

“Diapers?”

“Uh-huh.” Then, “I got a lot from the baby shower.”

Santiago nods a little, walking over to the dresser and pulling the drawers open to look at them before he nudges it shut again. He turns to look at the window, the baby monitor, then you. “...You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod. “You?”

He doesn’t answer that, just takes a moment and says, “I’m going to be, um...I’m back in the States—for good.”

“...Okay.”

You don’t ask if he’ll be nearby, if he has plans. They’re questions that you don’t think you want the answers to.

“...Will you tell me when you go into labor?”

“Yeah, of course,” You insist, “I was always gonna—I mean I wouldn’t have not told you.”

“Okay.” Then—“I should get going. I have to unpack.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you—“Nearby?”

“Bout five minutes away.”

You tell yourself not to read into it, not to expect support, but it makes your heart tick up in your chest. You just nod, and step back to let Santiago out of the room, and follow him down the hall to your front door.

He stops at the door and turns back to you, looking at your belly.

“Can I, uh...” He starts, brow furrowing a little. You lift your shirt wordlessly and reach out, taking hold of his hand and placing it on your belly.

You see a shift in him, and he takes a step closer.

You watch him raise his other hand, gently smoothing his hands around your stomach. You lift your eyes to his face, taking in his warm, watering eyes, his full lips pursed into a thin line, and his lashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly, perhaps trying to hide his tears.

You hope the baby has his curls.

Santiago becomes a more frequent visitor in the last two months of your pregnancy.

He starts visiting not only to check in on how the baby’s doing. He starts speaking with you, too. You start getting to know the father of your child.

It’s...Kind of nice. The film of nerves and distance drop away, and the teasing and smiles that led you to sleep with him in the first place sneak back in.

A week before your due date, you sit on your couch with Santiago, watching a movie, Santiago’s hand absently resting on the swell of your baby bump.

“...Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” He suddenly asks.

You glance over at him and nod, “Yeah.” Then, “You wanna know?”

Santiago glances down at your belly before turning back to the tv.

“Nah.”

You smile a little bit, turning back to the tv. “Alright.”

“I can wait.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s only a week.”

“Sure, Garcia. Keep protesting, I’m finding it cute.”

When you go into labor, Santiago is the first person you call.

He’s at your apartment in three minutes.

When your baby girl is born, Santiago is right there with you, telling you to push, telling you you’re doing an amazing job

As Santiago cradles the baby, as he strokes over her tiny nose, he mutters, “You could’ve just told me it was gonna be a girl.”

You smile tiredly up at them, eyes on the bundle. “You actually waited the week. I’m impressed.”

Santiago spends the first few months close to you. He starts to sleep on your couch.

When that begins to bother his neck, you offer to let him sleep in bed with you, “Just so you—Oh, don’t look at me like that—”

“You want another one already?”

“That is not funny, Garcia. But you know what, fine, sleep on the couch, enjoy the crick in your neck.”

He starts sleeping in your bed. He has a few changes of clothes at your place.

He has a level of involvement that you never thought he’d be around for, but you’re incredibly happy with.

The two of you are also becoming more...Friendly.

You don’t know if it’s the fatigue, or the fact that you wake up in his arms most mornings, but Santiago is being more affectionate with you these days—touchier, lighter to tease.

It’s still not like that first night—things have shifted in a way that you can never change, and you know it.

Seeing the way he is with the baby helps, too.

Santiago is so good with the baby.

He’s calm. He speaks to her in tender tones. He sings to her in spanish under his breath when he’s trying to get her down.

He encourages her, teases her, is always careful with her.

Santiago is present when you need him to be. And he’s pretty sweet with you, too.

He takes the baby to give you an afternoon, spoils you with little surprises—from a gift card for a pedicure to your favorite candy bar.

You’d never thought that it would be like...This with him. You thought you’d raise the baby alone, and that Santiago would drop in every few years to see how the kid is doing, if that.

“...She’s sleeping better now,” You tell him when the baby is around five months old.

“Yeah.”

“So...” You bite your lip, watching him wash the dishes, “So you don’t have to...I mean—” You go quiet when he looks at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean...” You avert your eyes as it seems to click with Santiago.

“I’ll stop crowding you,” he says.

“No! That’s not what I—I just, you’re paying rent for an apartment you’re, like, never at. It doesn’t seem fair to you, it’s a waste.”

“I deal with it.”

“I know you do, but that doesn’t mean you should.” And it’s stupid to say, but—“So you should move in.”

Oh. No.

Santiago freezes for a second before he reaches out, shutting off the faucet.

“You sure about that?”

“Sure,” You offer, a little nervey, “I mean, I know it’s only five minutes away, but I’d miss you—She’d miss you, you know.”

Santiago turns to face you, and your heart thumps roughly in your chest.

“You would miss me?” He repeats.

“...Yeah,” You admit softly.

Santiago drops the dishtowel and crosses the kitchen. He cups your face and draws you in for a tender kiss.

It’s like an electric shock, it shoots right through you. Your eyes slip shut, and you raise your hands to grip his shirt tightly.

Santiago crowds your back against the counter, his hands wandering your body covetously.

You bite back a whimper, and then groan as the baby’s wails come through the baby monitor.

The two of you part, and Santiago takes a step back, muttering, “I’ve got her.”

You tug him back in before he can get far, planting another warm kiss on him before finally letting go. He grins at you as he goes.

You raise your hands to your face once he’s gone, hiding your own grin, and its softening when you hear Santiago’s voice through the monitor just a moment later.

#Santiago Garcia Imagine #Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia x You #Santiago Garcia headcanon #Pregnancy cw #pregnancy mention #Tw: pregnancy

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

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hii, could do 19,21,27 and 30? maybe like a day off at home with spencer? <3

Just Your Average Rainy Sunday

Summary: Staying in bed with your boyfriend all day, life can’t get much better than this.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content: just domestic fluff

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: this is from my prompt requests (which are now closed). i have one more left to get to and i’m so excited for it! i already have it all planned out!!! anyways, enjoy the fluff...

Masterlist

Your eyes fluttered open to see the dreary gray sky from the window dimly lighting the bedroom. The calm pitter-pattering of rain against the glass almost lulled you back to sleep until you felt Spencer pull you closer and start littering kisses along the back of your neck.

“Morning, love,” you whispered as to not disturb the blissful peace.

He hummed in content, “I’ll get us coffee. You stay here,” he planted one final kiss on your lips.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you smiled.

Spencer came back minutes later with two warm mugs in his hands. He handed you your favorite mug which he got for you while away on a case. It had two bunnies on the front and said “Guess how much I love you!”. Spencer crawled back under the covers with his mug that you got for him that read “Books, because it’s too peopley outside”.

“What do you want to do on our rare coinciding day off?” Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist, encouraging you to lean on his shoulder.

“Hmmm,” you thought out loud, “I want to do nothing all day, but with you.”

Spencer grinned, “I can get behind that.”

You and Spencer spent the morning in bed, munching on bowls of cereal and catching up on the latest show you were watching together.

After about the fourth episode in a row, you were losing focus but Spencer was still glued to the screen.

“Can I paint your nails?” you asked.

“Sure, what color?” he stuck his hands out.

You opened your nightstand drawer, “I have red, light blue, pink, dark green, black, white, and purple.”

“Can you do the dark green, black, and white just like yours so we’re matching?” Spencer pointed to your nails.

“Of course, babe,” you smiled.

You got to work pushing his cuticles back and filing his nails before putting a base coat down and finally the top glossy clear coat.

“I love it,” he beamed, inspecting his nails, “And I love that we are matching even more,” he grabbed your hand and interlocked fingers.

“I hate to say it but once this episode is over, I think we should actually get out of bed and be productive. I need to do some laundry. I’m out of clean bras,” you said.

“Or just don’t wear one and then you can stay in bed all day,” Spencer grabbed you before you could get out from underneath the covers.

“I’m out of pants too. Are you suggesting I should go pantless to work tommorow?” you asked, amused.

“Fine, we’ll do laundry,” he sighed, releasing you, “Only I get the privilege of that view,” he smirked.

You and Spencer were sitting on the floor of the laundry room, folding the freshly-washed clothes.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, holding up a maroon crewneck, “I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“I normally don’t but it was at the bottom of my go-bag on that case in Alaska last week and I was freezing. It was from my math team in high school,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, I’m stealing this from you because it’s like your football letterman jacket but way cooler. The girlfriends always got to wear them except I can parade around the fact that my boyfriend is actually intelligent rather than a meathead who probably has five concussions,” you smiled.

“Take it, it’s yours now,” Spencer confirmed, “I want everyone to know that the former captain of the math team at Las Vegas Public High School is capable of getting the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“I’m only with you for the fame that comes with that title,” you joked.

Spencer grabbed your basket of folded clothes and brought it back into the bedroom.

“Bed again, please?” he pouted.

“Fine, we’ll put the clothes away later,” you relented.

Spencer dove into bed and patted the spot right next to him, making you giggle. He grabbed his book while you made yourself comfortable with your yarn and crochet hook.

“What are you making now?” Spencer asked.

“Mittens for you in case you have another case in Alaska or somewhere else chilly. Can’t have my boyfriend being cold when I’m not there to cuddle with him and give him all my precious body heat,” you spoke as you stitched away, “And they’re purple to match your scarf!”

“I can’t wait to wear them,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked as Spencer opened up his book to the page he was on.

“Of course, love.”

A/N: fun fact i actually love to crochet and i would crochet spencer a pair of mittens so fast

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid one shot #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

Ah right sorry! I dont know how but my brain was like 'yes discord is exists in minecraft'- Yes of course I dont mind! You can do whatever you want with the request :) Good im happy to hear that! And Thank you!

Original Request: Could I request a shy and quiet reader forgetting they're on a discord call and starts to sing a song that they are listening to? and whoever is on call with them joins in? maybe with Tommy, Wilbur and some other characters you want to write for :)

Remember to eat and drink water!

Secret Singing - Reader Insert

Pairings: none stated but can be read as Wilbur x Reader

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Jack Manifold

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request <3

Summary: Wilbur was busy, but not busy enough to help Y/N set up their workspace at their favorite spot! Going off to fulfill his own errands only to come back to a nice and beautiful tune in the air.

Words count: 2125

Authors Note: Lmao you are valid, I mean after all skype is canon in the dsmp 💔 Skype my abhorred 💔

Also adhd went brrr again, I tried looking over it a ton but there might still be a few mistakes!

“Oh, wow! Need any help with that, Y/N? That’s a lot of wool you got there!” Wilbur was running through L’Manberg to deal with some errands but stopped in his tracks, having to do a double take as he just saw a mountain of blue wool on legs walk towards his direction. Only then did he notice that it was Y/N who was holding on to a basket with the wool in their arms.

With a concentrated expression Y/N turned around a bit so they could look at him. Pieces of loose wool was laying in their hair or was stuck on their flushed face “Oh! Didn’t see you there! And it’s alright! I’m just getting it over to my bench!”

With their bench they meant the wooden bench they set up themself next to a small pond. They loved working close by it hence the bench to make it a bit more comfortable. It was also still a minute or two off and with the way Y/N was already struggling with the basket, Wilbur couldn’t just stand and watch. How could he hope to be a proper president when he didn’t help people who clearly needed it?

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face, stepping closer to grab the basket from them “Nope, let me help you. Not taking no for an answer.”

Y/N let out a few weak protests but ended up just pushing it into his arms, not wanting to accidentally spill the freshly treated wool unto the ground.

“Hey, um, be- bend down a little, Wil.” their voice weak and wavering like usual. Their shyness getting ahold of them again.

Not even thinking about why they asked this of him, he obliged. They then scoped up the top of the soft mountain so Wilbur had actually a chance to look across. He might be tall but that didn’t help when you held something big in your own arms.

With a soft satisfied smile they begun moving again and for a second Wilbur just stared as he readjusted his grip on the surprisingly heavy basket that Y/N probably made themself. Following after them and making sure that no stray pieces of wool would fall off.

“So, what’s all the blue wool for?” he asked.

For some reason this seemed to amuse Y/N “Well, a lot of our clothes use blue wool. The flag as well! I need some blue thread to either stitch some more flags down on clothing or when repairing them. Same for the flags flying about. General stitching. Besides can’t hurt to have some extra, might even sell some!”

In hindsight this made sense. When this whole L’Manberg situation started out Y/N offered to help stitch together their torn clothes. Over time they got really good at it and nowadays they have kind of turned into the resident seamstress.

Wilbur once apologized for pushing them into this profession only for them to vehemently shake their head “No! It’s fine! I- I enjoy it! It, uh, it also gives me something else to do than worry about our existence.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was something that he lacked. Everything he did was dedicated to this new nation after all and he would lie, and he did, if this didn’t take a bit of a toll on him sometimes.

Once they arrived at the bench, Wilbur softly placed down the wool next to the seating area as Y/N carefully returned the extra wool back on top. They then sat down on the bench while taking out their tools out of their inventory to turn the wool into yarn or thread.

It wasn’t unusual finding them working here, especially when the weather was playing nice. Often enough sitting together with other people in sometimes comfortable silence or happy chatter. Either making thread, stitching or whatever work they had to do and could do outside.

“Thank you, Wilbur! I’m sure you are busy so I won’t keep you longer but you are welcome to join me if you are done with work before me.”

Wilbur picked some of the stray wool off his uniform and sighed, not particularly looking forward to the work “Yeah. I’ll come around if I can. I’m going to meet up with Tommy in a bit so he might join as well, not sure though.”

Y/N nervously chuckled “Yeah, don’t worry. I know.”

They then begun to set up their tools to start working. Not even looking after Wilbur who begun walking off again in a snail’s pace. He really wasn’t looking forward to his work at the moment but alas it was very important.

It took a bit, but he soon arrived at the building he and Tommy set up as something of a headquarter. It was basically just a room covered in maps, scrapped ideas, plans and a few weapon and armor pieces.

Tommy was already waiting inside for him. He looked a bit annoyed with his arms in front of his chest. Before he could complain to him though Wilbur already threw his arm around Tommy and led him to his latest sketched out plan for L’Manburg. Trying to distract him with work.

They were mostly discussing how to ensure the safety of the new nation and how to create a functioning system inside that would ensure that everything inside would move along smoothly.

Hours passed as they schemed and begun setting a few safety measures up or helped the residents of L’Manberg where they could. Jack Manifold later joined them as well. Helping and even offering ideas of his own to incorporate.

“I think that is all we can do for today. I’m getting seriously tired.” Jack sighed, cleaning the dust off his hands on his own clothes.

“You’re going home?” Tommy asked.

Jack crossed his arms, his eyes wandered off to the side behind his mismatched glasses as he thought for a second “Mh, I was hoping we could hang a bit, you know, outside of work. Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Oh! I promised to maybe spend some time with Y/N if they are still at their pond!” Wilbur suddenly exclaimed, remembering the exchange from a few hours ago.

A happy smile appeared on Jack’s face “Let’s go together then! I haven’t seen them in a while, and it’s been even longer that I hung out with them while they worked. It’s always very calming for some reason.” The last part he muttered but Wilbur caught it.

He wasn’t the only one who thought like this. Most of the people in L’Manberg were drawn to them especially in this chaotic time. It was nice having someone like that around.

“Guess I’ll come with you.” Tommy suddenly exclaimed, pulling Wilbur back out of his thoughts.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why not. I need to ask them to look at my coat anyhow.”

With that the group begun moving, it was slowly getting darker, but it was still warm outside, so if they were lucky, Y/N was still out.

They were chatting about what they were planning to do next or in Jack’s and Tommy’s case what they have been up to only for them to get interrupted by a tune that the wind carried over to them.

A bit surprised Wilbur looked at the others, hoping to see if they too hear it and true enough, they seemed to be just as surprised as them. Someone was singing but he has never heard a voice like this.

Frankly, it was beautiful.

The tune was sounding sad and yet the lyrics that accompanied it were hopeful. Wishing for peace in a time of turmoil. Promises of a better time filled with a deep love via the voice.

It was a song that none of them ever have ever heard. An original song perhaps?

But what really surprised them was from what direction the music came from.

It came from the pond. From Y/N’s bench.

Almost as if they were worried to scare away a wild animal, they begun to sneak towards said pond. Staying off the path and taking a wild berth. Hiding behind the trees, trying to avoid that if their hunch were right, that Y/N wouldn’t see them approaching.

Wilbur pressed his index finger against his pursed lips as they got closer, motioning for the others to keep quiet. To which Tommy just rolled his eyes, seeing how this was obvious.

Jack slowly moved around the tree and there he saw it.

Y/N was sitting on the bench, their legs crossed with a piece of fabric in their hands that they seemed to stich another L’Manburg flag into. Slowly moving their head from one side to the next to the rhythm of the song.

Wilbur followed suit, using his superior height to peak his head out above Jack while Tommy crouched down to do the same.

They were still intently staring at their handiwork, pushing the nail and thread into the cloth only to pull it out again. Their mouth turned into a happy little smile as they sang this hopefully hymn.

“Wow, I didn’t think they could sing like that.” Jack whispered, looking up to Wilbur.

He nodded, his eyes continuing to rest on Y/N’s happy expression “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

“I guess it’s fine.” Tommy just whispered back. Of course, he still had to put on his cool dude persona.

Wilbur flicked Tommy’s head “Just say for once what you really think!” He still made sure to keep his voice down, not having heard enough of the song and Y/N’s voice yet.

Tommy scowled and jumped back so he was standing at his full height again “What do you mean? I say what I think! The hell are you talking about!” He tried to keep his voice down but at the end he got louder which made Wilbur panic and clasp his hand around Tommy’s mouth.

Though Tommy saw this coming and dodged out of the way by ducking, resulting in Wilbur to fall over. Crashing into Tommy and pushing him onto the ground, both of them letting out a startled yell.

The singing immediately stopped.

“Ah! Look what you have done!” Jack whined, helping the two reluctantly up.

“Well, if Tommy would have shut his mouth!”

“You attacked me!”

“I did not! I was trying to shut you up!”

“Guys?” a soft and unsure voice broke through their argument.

All three men slowly turned around to see Y/N clutching the piece of cloth they had been working on close to their chest. Avoiding any eye contact. Their face covered in a deep blush. Chewing on their lower lip.

“Are you okay? I- I heard a thud and- I just- I wanted to make sure-“ they stammered.

Tommy seemed to be confused at that “What? No. You were singing though, right Y/N?” Getting straight to the point apparently.

“Tommy!” Both Jack and Wilbur yelled out in outrage.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and they moved the cloth up to their face. Effectively hiding behind it “No. I- uh. I’m sorry?”

“What are you sorry for? Your voice is amazing! Why haven’t you told us you can sing?” Wilbur stepped closer. His eyes wide as well but in amazement.

Though Y/N seemed to cower down even more the closer he got “Because- Because I can’t. Please just forget about it.”

Wilbur wanted to know more, hear more of their singing but they seemed panicked. Hiding away and trying to clearly get out of the situation and he had to take a step back. Guilt welling up in him.

“I’m sorry. We just heard your song, and it was beautiful. I have never heard this song. I guess we got enamored by it especially since your singing was really amazing.”

Jack put his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and pushed him back a few steps “Come on let’s drop it. They are clearly uncomfortable. I’m sorry Y/N.” He then begun pulling Wilbur along, grabbing Tommy in the process as well who just yanked his arm away from him stating he could walk good enough on his own.

“Wilbur?”

He immediately turned around again to see the nervous Y/N with a determined expression on their face. The cloth now back down.

“The song! I mean, uh, my parent taught me that song when I was a child. Apparently, they wrote it.”

“It’s a really beautiful one. Your parent must be very talented. If you feel ever more comfortable enough I would love to hear the full song.”

Y/N took a deep breath in “I know how to play it on guitar and keyboard? I could, uh, you know. Teach it to you?”

Wilbur’s smile returned to his face “Sounds like a plan.”

#mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x Y/N #mcyt reader insert #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp x Y/N #wilbur soot x Y/N #ramza writes #anon request

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teeth-and-tea · 3 years

Text

Anime I've Binged: August 2021

I've been crafting a lot recently because I wanna get my yarn work done before it gets cold so LOTS OF ANIME lmao let's gooooo

The Case Study of Vanitas: On god, this anime is gorgeous. Still being upload as it's a new seasonal, but it's a Yen Press distributed work by the same mangaka of Pandora Hearts and Crimson Shell so it's STYLISTICALLY GORGEOUS. The story is interesting and feels new but familiar enough to have guess, people who like men AND women will have something for them, and Noè is my baby boy, my heart, my lovely little lamb, the sweetest green bean on the planet <3. Can't wait for the (eventual, as told on the first episode) death of Vanitas by Noè's hands that will crush me <3. 9/10.

Oddtaxi: I was NOT EXPECTING this anime to be THAT GOOD. Oddakawa is the MVP. You think you're getting a slice of life anime with some furry elements and instead you get Paranoia Agent meets Yakuza and went to school with Beastars. Genuinely one of the best anime of the coming decade. The last 30 seconds of the last episode legitimately left me screaming and my brother had to ask me what was wrong. 11/10.

The Slime Diaries: The offshoot for That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime full of shorts while the second half of the second season was put on hiatus due to covid. Cute, bubbly, but the drawing styles for everyone was a little too off for me to entirely enjoy. However, the extra background and time they gave to all the characters really fleshed them out and gave them more depth so you have more to care about when you're watching the main series again. Not bad, pretty cute, but you won't understand unless you've watched all the way up to the middle of the Second Season. 8.5/10.

The Slow Life of a Cheat Pharmacist: Another Light Novel Slice of Life Isekai given life, I've seen better but this one isn't bad by any means. It gives you exactly what it says on the tin, with NO annoying fan service or gross (bad) harem dynamics. Pretty cute tbh. 8/10.

Mob Psycho 100 S1: The animation is INCREDIBLE. OH MY GOD. Story was solid, depictions of original characters was GREAT and Mob is my beautiful little boy I want to wrap up in a blanket and put to sleep <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 Reigen is a sweaty, sweaty gross goblin I found outside the Denny's dumpster at midnight and decided "ahh, yes, a man who is perfect to destroy and objectify all at once." 11/10.

Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid S1, S2, and Shorts: I'm gonna be real, I'm a mad lesbian who knew I was gonna be disappointed by what I wanted but knew I wasn't gonna get it. STILL super cute tho. Lucoa and Shota gave me HARD SIDE EYE VIBES THO. Tits. Tits for days. Not my favorite but I've seen worse. 7.5/10.

How to Keep a Mummy: SO CUTE genuinely went online to see if I could buy a plushie before remembering I have crafting power and twelve dollars. Slice of Life featuring an adorable cast of high schoolers and their supernatural pets. 8.5/10. I couldn't stop being delighted by how CUTE everything was <3

Elegant Yokai Apartment Life: A Slice of Life Turned Plot-ish about if Tohru from Fruits Basket was a guy and shoved in an entire apartment complex full of supernatural beings, with less explicit romantic plotlines. It's not bad but the plot is all over the place and nonsensical in the the "why did the writer think this was a good idea" way and not the "lol" way. It was a Light Novel turned published piece tho so that clears up a lot of things. Incredibly small internet presence so if you want the world's tiniest fandom, try here. 8/10.

Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average In the Next Life?!: Another in the long line up of isekais and light novels that have gained an audience, this is honestly one of my favorite of the Isekais I've watched so far. It's fun, humorous, and it's got the decent premise of "oh yeah, I'm average in all my abilities! ... If you compare them from the tiniest bug to the strongest dragon alive." It's busty jokes and certain dried up cliches are abound tho, so some of the humor falls flat. That being said: the magic is run on nanomachines. That alone gives it enough premise for me to watch it. I watched the dub which I'll admit isn't amazing, but worked for me. 8.5/10

Restaurant to Another World: Another Light Novel adaptation but this one was a much earlier one that was published a few years ago, it's so calm that I like watching it to fall asleep to. That being said, don't watch this while hungry! Or watch it while eating leftovers! Because THE FOOD LOOKS SO GOOD I WANT IT D: Lol but serious it's pretty cute, really normal, there's no plot, I almost hesitate to call this anything other than a fantasy slice of life show instead of just a series of shorts strung together to make a show. I want to eat at Restaurant Nekoya TTuTT 8/10

DISHONORABLE MENTIONS:

How NOT To Summon a Demon Lord: I got 6 episodes in before I straight up could NOT take the fan service anymore. Literally, I watched 5 1/2 episodes, paused about 4 months, gave it one last shot and watched the 6th episode, and then called it quits. It's SO GROSS IT MAKES ME NAUSEOUS. Not in a gorey way (which is preferable tbh) but in "all these hyper-sexualized, assaulted, groomed, fan serviced girls are underage or are lolis" way. Ew. Gross. I refuse. I made myself watch PRISON SCHOOL but smth about this show just... made itself unwatchable. Maybe how it's still trying to make the MC seem like a normal dude and in Prison School they were literally all written to be unlikable and everyone knew it was fucked up. Here, it's like... portrayed as normal and positive? I just can't do it fam, I hate this show so goddamn much. I'm going to bed.

#the case study of vanitas #oddtaxi #the slime diaries #the slow life of a cheat pharmacist #mob psycho #miss kobayashi's dragon maid #how to keep a mummy #elegant yokai apartment life #didn't i say to make my abilities average in the next life #restaurant to another world

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b0amagination · 3 years

Audio

Hasan and Declan - 10

Series masterlist

Content warnings: noncon touching (touching wounds), intimate whumper, threat of electric shock and breaking bones, gaslighting vibes, discussion of depression and medication.

~~~

I had to split up the audio file for this chapter so click here for (RECORDING PART 2)

Previously…

~~~

(i started this chapter in media res so set the scene: it’s the next day, declan very much enjoyed his two granola bars, and now they’re sitting together and talkin’)

“I wish this weekend could last forever, darling,” Hasan sighed, leaning their head down on Declan’s shoulder. He shivered as their hands slid down his neck, heels pressing into his shoulders.

“I’m glad it won’t,” he snarked, immediately regretting it when nails dug into the previous day’s lashes. Fine. They wanted him to be silent.

“Mmh. That’s why we need to take care of a few things today.”

Declan only flinched in response.

“First of all, let me ask about your hobbies. I already know of streaming, which is out of the question, but I may be able to provide you with games.”

“I like archery.” That was true. Declan only used it to buy time and think of what he valued the most, but it was a little funny.

“Mmmm you better not keep it up if you actually want anything from me,” they traced down a welt, and it was still threatening even though he could tell by their tone that they were joking.

“Well, I used to play clarinet. Had to sell it a few months back, though. My papa tried to teach me how to crochet once. That was kinda fun. I… I don’t know what else.”

“Don’t get your hopes up on the clarinet, dear, but I can absolutely get you a needle and some yarn. What about films? Any favorites?”

“Clue,” he answered immediately, and wanted to shove the word right back down his throat. He wasn’t here to ruin his favorite movies for himself by associating them with this! “Please ignore that. Uhh… The Princess Bride, I guess. And Bill and Ted?”

“You have very interesting taste,” Hasan commented.

“Well, don’t mind me, I’m just trying to decide what fun and tolerable movies I get to watch for the rest of my miserable little life.”

“Well, you’re right there. This is the rest of your life.”

Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Go ahead and believe it, asshole.

Hasan clapped him on the shoulders, moving to get up, and Declan scrambled away.

“So hasty, darling.” They shook their head. “You’re so open with your discomfort for someone who doesn’t want it to be exploited.”

He curled in on himself. Did he have to be so stupid? And did they have to point it out?

“Aww hey,” they reached over and stroked his hair. “I would’ve figured it out eventually. Nothing wrong with moving quickly.” Declan shuddered and shrugged them off.

“Even quicker, we get to the point where you’re tired of touching me!”

“Ohh, I don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon, if ever.”

“How convenient,” Declan grumbled.

“How indeed.”

Their thumb trailed down his jaw and slipped away as they straightened up.

“You know, I finished a special project yesterday,” they smiled, leaning down to a bag they’d left by the door. They picked something up, holding it behind their back, and Declan was even more on edge.

“What was that?” he asked, standing up and trying to get behind them and see, but Hasan spun around, keeping it out of sight.

“I’ll tell you, but you’ve got to stand still,” they said, watching him hesitantly plant his feet.

“No point in fighting, I suppose?”

“You’re really catching on.” The pride in their voice was not necessary.

Hasan stepped closer and closer, heel to toe, making defined clacks that echoed in the space. They were almost nose to nose when Hasan dropped to their knees, one landing directly on his bare foot.

“Ow! Jesus, what are you- hey!” Hasan’s hands wrapped something around his ankle, which he couldn’t pull away in his shock and immobilization. Leather, it was a leather band, but there were small chains hooking around as well, and they had a lock they were putting through those, then the metal ring on the leather, and it clicked shut.

They sat back on their heels and Declan stumbled away, unsettled by the weight of it. There was a small box on one side.

“What is this, house arrest?!”

“Essentially, yes,” Hasan chuckled, towering over his cowering form once again.

Declan scuttled to the wall, sitting against it so he had space to inspect the anklet. There was some kind of box on it, and he could swear it was buzzing with energy it hadn’t been a few seconds ago. It reminded him of…

“That was supposed to be for an electric dog fence, but I’ve… repurposed it,” they shrugged with a bashful smile. “I placed it around the perimeter of my house, and I’m sure you’re starting to feel that, seeing how close to it you’ve gotten. The voltage is far higher as well.”

“Oh my god, fuck you!” Declan growled, kicking the device against the floor.

Hasan strode forward, catching his ankle and wrenching it up. They looked down his outstretched leg with a bitter glare.

“I’m really trying to give you a chance, here, Dec,” they sighed. “I could’ve snapped your knees the moment I brought you here and been done with it. Crushed your shins. Smashed your ankles. Ground every bone in your foot to a fine powder…”

Declan shuddered as they traced from his knee down to his ankle, paying special attention to the leather before finally dropping his leg, allowing him to curl into himself. He was so tense he was shaking.

“I would’ve been entirely satisfied in the knowledge that you didn’t have the ability to escape. But you know why I didn’t?” They paused long enough for him to shake his head. “Because I respect you. I respect your integrity and your feelings. I respect-”

“You don’t respect me!” Declan’s head shot up, incredulity shining in his rageful eyes. “You’ve made me feel the worst I’ve ever felt! You don’t listen to me! Don’t use that shit against me!”

“Yes, I’ve made you feel, but those feelings are ones I’ve accepted and encouraged you to explore. I’m always listening, I promise, but there are many requests that are unreasonable or contradictory to our progress.”

“Respect is fucking mutual! If you can’t respect all of me, then that’s it. You don’t get to call it something nice. You don’t get to feel better.”

“Dearest, please breathe. I think you’re misguided, and I think you’re taking this without the nuance that the subject demands.” Hasan explained, kneeling before him and taking his hands in their own. “We can’t manage every aspect of each other at every time. And I’m sorry if it’s upsetting you, but that’s a part of yourself I wish to draw out.”

“I don’t feel better! None of this makes me feel better!” He tried to tear his hands away, but the grip on them tightened in warning.

“Then what can I do to help, darling?”

“You can-”

“Within reason,” they interrupted, giving him a look.

“Nothing helpful is within your reason.”

“Then you better rethink what you consider helpful, because I’m still offering.”

“I… Hasan, I don’t know,” Declan sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine this situation being any better for me.”

“Think about comfort. About basic wants.”

“...I’d, uh, like to sleep without being chained up. And in a bed.”

“You know I can’t trust you without restraints right now.” That made sense. Frustrating, but at least he got some excuse that wasn’t bullshit for once— in the way he defined bullshit with Hasan, anyway.

“The bed? Please?”

“I’ve got an old camping cot in the garage,” Hasan offered, like that was the only option they had.

“That’s… you don’t seem strapped for cash.”

“You want the cot?”

“Yes,” Declan sighed.

“Good boy,” they crooned.

“Yeah, no, if you were testing I’ll let you know the results: that felt disgusting.”

“Felt pretty alright to me.”

“Just don’t do it again.” He knew damn well he couldn’t stop it, but it was worth a try. At least that wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to hear before. Though he wanted it even less now.

“I won’t ask you to act out, but if you don’t wanna be praised I can absolutely punish you instead.”

“Woo. I’m a good boy then,” Declan deadpanned. That was silly and borderline petty, but so was this whole situation.

“God, you’re funnier than you should be, especially now.”

“I know. It’s the mental illness.” Hasan reeled back, seemingly recalculating everything about him.

“Shit, wait, ah shit! Do you need me to pick up medication? Were you on any?!” They wrung their hands and Declan could see their train of thought going off the rails.

“This is what you care about?”

“Yes!! Because shit like serotonin syndrome and withdrawal are real things! I am not prepared to take care of you for that!”

“Oh my god, calm down. I was, but a real low dose, thankfully. For depression. I was coming off them to switch, which obviously never happened and doesn’t matter at this point. They were fucking with my anxiety, and I don’t need their help to do that now,” Declan sighed, trying to lock the resentment down so he didn’t escalate the situation.

“Hmm, I suppose not,” Hasan giggled, “and there’s no point trying to get anything for you right now. If your depression starts getting worse during the day, let me know, okay? We’ll do something about it.”

“And now you care about my dumbass feelings.”

“You’re ill, Declan, and I’m sure you’ve felt the depths that leads to.” Their tone was eerily serious. Knowing.

“Nothing worse than what torture can do to me alone,” Declan tried to smile, but it fell flat.

“You know that’s not true. They’re two entirely different things.”

“So, I suppose I’m not the only person here who has intimate experiences with mental illness?”

“Why did you think I have this tattoo?” Hasan slid their sleeve up to show their bicep and the black semicolon that stood out on their tan skin.

“I… didn’t see it. I think the only time I could’ve is when you were… you know. So I didn’t notice.” A repulsive feeling spread through him at the thought that his kidnapper of all people was the first person they’d known who could relate even remotely to his experiences. They could take advantage of it, his mind supplied, and he tried to wave it off.

“Well, now we know. Anything else you need?”

“Breakfast. And… water? Available regularly?”

“I think I can arrange something like that.”

“And…” He hesitated, but Hasan was listening. “Can I ask for lemons to put in it?”

“Now you’re getting needy. I’ll see what I can do.”

They winked and spun on their heels, leaving just like that.

~~~

Next...

~~~

Tag list: @suspicious-whumping-egg

Ask to be added or removed!

#whump #whump writing #my writing #noncon touching #intimate whumper #threat of electrocution #threats #gaslighting #gaslighting tw #it aint sticking but it do be happening #depression mention #medication mention #nonbinary whumper #male whumpee #Declan Labelle #Hasan Badeaux #aight i think that's it on tags #woot woot i just gave a graphic design presentation and now brain go fast #why do i always set up posts during this class. this is our final not even on the same day but i do be putting together a post #bro i didn't realize the work i was posting was up to here yet #congrats y'all now have my last finished chapter because i fell behind it's finals week #but we done!!! we finished that shit!!!! time to go home!!!!!!! and do more writing!!!!!!!!!!#if everything goes to plan i should be taking a moment from the main storyline for nemi's hardware day this upcoming tuesday #i am about to sneeze nooooo my classmate is giving a presentation #okay i got it we're good #anyway yeah winter break is here and i'm hoping to get some epic writing done #scheduling this for when i'll likely be on the road so hope this posts :P #tumblr's a lil bully sometimes

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

hiii i have a prompt i guess? i'm making a folklore cardigan (in green lol) so maybe teaching frankie how to crochet or knit or just be homey?

We have some soft hours here!

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of others having a baby

MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was a dark and rainy afternoon, and for once, you had the afternoon off. It was a chilly, drizzly, mid fall day, perfect for making a cup of tea and curling up on the couch and watching television.

You opened the windows in your bedroom and living room just enough to let in the fresh air and set the kettle on stove to boil some water. Normally you’d make Frankie a cup as well, but he had to work later today, leaving you to your own devices for a few hours. Pulling out your favorite honey bee mug, gifted to you from Frankie early on in your relationship, you set the tea bag inside. You grabbed the honey, set it next to the mug, and scrolled through your phone while you waited for the water boil.

But then, you got a better idea. You ran up into the spare room, one day perhaps to be a nursery but for now it was a catchall, and pulled out your knitting supplies. You weren’t the best at the knitting, but you had a lot of fun with it, and it was a nice way to keep your hands occupied and productive, instead of just fidgeting around. You’d started a blanket a while back, when fall first hit and became to determined to make a baby blanket for Santi and his wife. They were expecting their first child soon, and you wanted them to have something special. Even if it turned out not be the greatest thing, they would know it was handmade with love.

Stepping slowly back down the stairs, you carried your basket full of needles, yarn, and the started blanket cautiously, setting them on the couch before attending to the screaming kettle.

Humming under your breath, you poured the water into the cup and topped it off with a dash of honey, stirring it all together. When you got back to the living room, you flopped onto big, soft couch and pulled a blanket over yourself before turning on the television and putting on one of your comfort shows before grabbing your supplies.

You quickly fell into an easy rhythm of knitting a few lines, taking a sip from of your warm tea, and paying attention to the show. A few times you were interrupted with the buzzing of your phone, not giving much attention to the notifications, except the ones from your husband. It seemed that today was your lucky day - he’d be coming a few hours earlier than you thought. And ever the thoughtful, loving husband, he promised to pick up dinner from your favorite restaurant on the way home. Some days you still weren’t sure how you’d lucked out with getting to call Frankie Morales your husband, but you were infinitely thankful to the universe for him. There was nothing you loved or cherished more than Frankie.

“Honey Bee?” you almost jumped in excitement at the sound of his voice as he came into the house, accompanied by the delicious smell of food. You listened to his familiar routine of taking off his boots, dropping his bag, and coming into the kitchen with a giddy smile on your face, “I’ve got dinner!”

“I’m in the living room, my love,” you called out to him as he set everything down and immediately spied you. His dark eyes were soft and his dimply smile was on display as he made his way over to you, “hi Frankie.”

“Hi honey,” he kissed the top of your head before pulling back and curiously looking at what you had gotten done during your quiet time alone, “you’ve been busy. It looks beautiful.”

“It looks like...something, I suppose,” you looked at the blanket and progress you had made, “it’s the blanket I’m working on for Santi. I want to give it to them for Christmas. It’s coming along and I figured today was the perfect opportunity.”

“Well, it will look amazing when it’s done,” he insisted with a gentle kiss to your lips, “it takes a talent to do that, and you’ve got the magic touch - trust me I know from experience...”

“Mhmm cheeky,” you joked with a groan as your cupped his face in your hands and pressed a few more gentle kisses to his lips, “I love you, Francisco.”

“I love you too, Bee,” he grinned, “I hate to interrupt, but let’s go and eat dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” you let him pull you to your feet and into his arms, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone at work,” he chuckled as he held your hand and pulled you towards the kitchen, “can’t have missed me that much.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Morales,” you insisted as you jumped onto of the stools as the kitchen counter and dug through the food he’d brought home, “I always miss you when you’re not with me.”

“Well, Mrs. Morales,” he grabbed some plates and handed them to you, “good thing it’s the weekend and neither of us have to work, and we can spend several long days together doing nothing.”

“I like the sound of that,” you agreed, dishing up the food, “I think, if I read the weather report correctly, it’s supposed to be cold and rainy all weekend. I think we might have to spend some time in bed.”

“Oh dear,” he pretended to be momentarily upset, “how terrible that sounds. I suppose we’ll work something out, won’t we, Honey Bee?”

“Mhmm,” you shot him a wink, “we always do.”

“I do have one favor to ask of you,” he said and took his spot next to you, “if you’re willing that is.”

“Of course,” you grinned at him, nudging his leg against yours, “anything, Frankie.”

“Will you teach me how to knit?” he was almost sheepish as a flush rose up in his cheeks, “I-I want to learn too, I think it’d be neat and it seems calming.”

“Of course,” you could barely contain your grin as you turned to him, “I would love to, Frankie. I think you’ll enjoy it too. It’s really simple, honestly. Once you get the hang of it.”

“Maybe we can work on something together,” he suggested softly, “I think it could be nice...”

“It’ll be perfect,” you agreed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “let’s do it. If you’re lucky, I’ll even let you do a few rows in the baby blanket.”

“I like the sound of that,” he promised, “I love you...t-thanks for not thinking it’s silly.”

“I would never laugh!” you whispered softly, “I love you more than you know, Francisco.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy @kiss-evans @theorganasolo @mishasminion360 @its–fandom–darling @emmy626 @nyasiaaaaa @spideysimpossiblegirl

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

Text

E&T: A Night We Won’t Forget (Part 2)

I am a cat and your emotions are a ball of yarn (●'◡'●)💕

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: a little possessive/noncon touching (unsexy)

After that song ended, Erebus shooed Neteri off to go talk to Alina, and it was only until he found himself entirely alone that he realized that might not have been the best idea. Normally at parties, people were walking up to talk to him all the time, but here...no one even spared him a second glance. Well, he was rather hungry, and he should probably give those flatbreads Neteri suggested a try, since it’s not like they could taste bad. He wandered over to one of the food tables, scanning it for-there, that had to be them. He reached for one-

“Don’t eat that.”

“What?” Erebus looked up to see a girl about his age standing next to him, arms crossed as her green eyes bored into his.

“They’re terrible.”

“But...I was told to eat them by my-my-uh...my sister. She said I had to eat at least five of them or I can’t say I had a good time.” He didn’t really know why sister was the first thing that came to mind, but he supposed the way Neteri doted on him was sort of sisterly, at least as far as he could guess as an only child.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Well she’s playing a mean trick on you, then.”

“I guess she would-well...” he could see Neteri doing that to mess with him, but they were both well aware that his tongue made anything taste good, so there wasn’t much point in trying to play a prank like that on him. He reached out and grabbed one. “I’ll take my chances. I trust her.”

“Your funeral,” she huffed, twirling a lock of her long, black hair around her finger as he took a bite.

Despite her warning, he found it delicious, the perfect balance of spicy and sweet, and he could tell that wasn’t just because of his tongue. “This is fantastic,” he proclaimed after he swallowed. “You really don’t like it?”

She glanced around furtively before leaning in slightly, her voice dropping in volume. “I don’t like them; I love them. Enough that I wanted all of them to myself. But you had to go and ruin that, mister…” she waved a hand expectantly.

“Uh...Erebus.”

“Mister Erebus. So now you’re in on this with me whether you like it or not. Do not tell anyone how good these are or they might end up all getting eaten and then we will both be sad all night. You feel me?”

“I get it, I get it, I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about them, anyway, since I don’t really...know anyone.”

“Of course you don’t.” He felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, did she know he was- “Nobody does at these sorts of things.” She fell silent for a moment as his anxiety subsided. “Shiori.”

“Huh?”

She sighed. “I’m Shiori. There, you know someone else now.”

“Oh. Um, it’s nice to meet you, Shiori.”

Just then, the music changed, the beat sounding a little faster. Shiori’s face broke out into a smile. “Oh yes, this is a fun song.” Before Erebus knew what was happening, she’d grabbed his hand, pulling him slightly. “Come on, dance with me for this one.”

“Uh-alright.” He followed her to the dance floor, face flushing. Why was he even getting all nervous, he’d danced with plenty of girls in his time, and honestly there was less pressure this time since not as many people were paying attention to him, but something about her asking him to dance made his heart beat faster than it had any right to. He was able to calm himself once they started dancing, concentrating on the motions as much as he could. Shiori was quite a good dancer, a better match for him than Neteri since she wasn’t so ridiculously short.

“So where are you from, Erebus?” Shiori asked after the song changed to a slower one.

He hesitated a second, but he decided to just tell the truth, though not all of it, in favor of getting caught in a lie. “I-I’m from Nathar. In Berké.”

“Oh, weren’t you recently conquered by Xerna? Is that why you’re here now?”

“Yes.” He fought to keep his voice calm, his expression neutral. “What about you?”

“Urtam! My fathers are merchants, though, so I’ve been all over.” Erebus nodded; they’d done trade with that small, coastal kingdom to the south.

“How cold does it get down there? Have you ever, uh, seen snow?” Part of him wanted to steer the conversation away from his life, and part of him really was curious.

“Of course I have! It gets cold enough to snow most winters, but nothing you can’t handle, you know? Why, does it not snow in Berké?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve never seen it before. I’ve always wanted to, though.”

“Huh. I usually find it annoying, myself, but I guess it is really pretty. Even once you get tired of it, you can’t help but love the sight of it blanketing everything in white.” She fell silent for a moment. “I don’t think I dislike it as much as I thought I did.”

Erebus laughed a bit. “Worth seeing, then?”

“For sure! I’ll make sure to throw some in your face if I’m with you so you can have the full experience.” She laughed at his confused face. “What, can’t handle a snowball fight?”

“Snowball fight?”

“Wow, you really are clueless. Okay, you pick up snow, make it into a ball, and then you just throw it at each other. It’s the great test of champions.” She smiled proudly. “I’ve got an impeccable record myself; I bet I’d make short work of a newbie like you.”

“I, uh, bet you could.” Oddly, he wasn’t too put-off by the possibility...At that, the song ended, and it was just then that Erebus realized how close they were standing. He felt himself turning red again-or maybe he’d been red the whole time and he was just getting redder-but soon enough she stepped back, though she didn’t let go of his hand.

“Come on, let’s get some more to eat. I didn’t get enough earlier.” After filling plates with a variety of food, including at least four of the little flatbreads each, they made their way out onto the patio. The sun had already set behind the wall of the cliff at the back of the palace, but the area was still bright, glowing lightstones set with smaller air minerals floating around up above. People milled about, but it was certainly less crowded here than it was inside. They managed to find a small, empty table and sat down to eat. Erebus tried to focus on his food, but he got caught up wondering what was prettier, the pink and gold streaks of clouds above them, or the girl sitting across from him. He...he could say that, but he didn’t know how to put it, or if it would come out right, he’d probably just embarrass himself. He’d never really tried to hit on a girl before, especially not one he didn’t know well-

“The Midnight Sun always looks so odd during twilight,” Shiori said, looking up at the cliff towering over them.

“Odd how?” Erebus had only seen it during the daytime before, when it was just some crystals set in a rock face, but now that it was starting to get dark out, it was beginning to glow, a sight he found quite captivating.

“Well, during the day, it’s a bunch of dark rocks in a wavy cliff, and at night, it’s a big shining...sun thing. But during twilight and dawn, it just looks...wrong? I don’t know...the fact that it’s glowing so faintly just seems off for some reason. Be bright or be nothing.”

“I guess that makes sense...I’ve never seen it at night, though, so I don’t know if I can judge.”

“You’ve never seen it at night?!” Shiori nearly jumped out of her seat. “So you’ve never even been here before tonight, huh?”

“Well, I...I’ve been to the city once before, but only during the day. So I’ve actually really been looking forward to being out here at night.”

“Well, in that case, let’s stay out here until it gets dark! I mean you can see it through the glass ceiling inside, but I feel like you need to be out here for the full effect.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with that? I-I don’t want to take you away from the party or the people you came here with or anything-”

She waved a hand. “Nah, I just came with my parents, and they’re off doing their own thing. Besides, I’m having fun with you!” She smiled warmly at him before glancing at the party inside. “I love just getting to know random people at these things, even if I end up never seeing them again. Because even if we’ll both forget tonight someday, it’s still fun right now, you know?”

“Yeah. I’m having a good time with you, too. So much that I...I don’t think I’ll ever forget tonight.” Erebus laughed a little as he smiled back at her, though inside he was grappling with the fact that he really would never see her again, that she would forget this night someday, that she would forget him. But it made sense, he thought, that she wouldn’t remember him over anyone else. There wasn’t really anything that made him special to her, he was just the guy she met because he ate the food she was trying to keep to herself, but part of him wanted so badly for someone to remember him like this, someone whose memory wasn’t tainted with the image of him chained to a post and screaming.

“You’re sweet.” She took one last bite of her food and stood, holding out her hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk or something! I’ve heard this place has some cool gardens.”

“It does!” She raised an eyebrow as he took her hand and stood. “I-I saw when I visited here before. During the day.”

“Why were you in the palace?”

“I...it’s a long story.” Thankfully, Shiori didn’t push it. They followed a path marked by the floating lightstones to one of the gardens, which ended up being the one with a large fountain (a word Erebus had learned since his trip into the city) that was full of Mydnar’s tears, brilliant blue flowers that floated on the water’s surface. Ordinarily, the fountain sprayed water straight up, but tonight, the stream split into eight and arced through the air, bouncing off of lightstones floating above the pool before raining down. Despite how beautiful it was, there weren’t too many other people here.

“Wow,” Shiori breathed, wonder glittering in her eyes.

“Yeah.” Erebus found himself nearly speechless at the sight, and right then he was so incredibly grateful to be here, in this moment, with Shiori. He did his best to burn every detail of it into his mind, the way the water sparkled as it splashed, each delicate flower petal, the brilliance of the fading colors of sunset, Shiori’s beautiful smile, the shine of her long, dark hair, the feeling of her fingers against the back of his hand. He had to remember this, hold every little detail in his heart for forever, because the rest of forever was going to cold and empty and lonely and painful and this was maybe the last time that he’d-

“Are you alright, Erebus? You seem...sad.” Shiori looked up at him with concern as she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m alright I was just thinking about...It doesn’t matter, I-” he shook his head, stepping in front of her and holding out his other hand. “Will you dance with me?”

“Of course!” She placed his hand on her hip before laying hers on his shoulder. “Although...it’s kind of hard to hear the music from here, so I’m not exactly sure what dance we should do.”

“We could just sort of...dance slow?” Erebus offered, not really wanting to go back to the party quite yet. He knew they’d have to eventually, that he’d have to return to Neteri and his cell and the table, but for now he just wanted to pretend that they’d stay here forever, that there was nothing outside of this moment. That sentiment only strengthened as Shiori nodded and held him close as they started to sway gently.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, and part of him didn’t care. The only time he looked away from her for more than a moment was when the sun finally set, causing the Midnight Sun set in the cliff to flash brilliantly, showering them in bright crystalline light for a second before it settled to a warm, steady glow. It really was gorgeous, but the sight of that symbol alight...his chest throbbed slightly, and he turned away, doing his best to ignore it, focusing on Shiori’s warm hand in his, not cold cuffs encircling his wrists, on the sound of splashing water and quiet music, not the murmurings of a crowd, on her eyes looking at him with kindness, not with pity, of Xerna’s sun made of crystal, not metal.

They danced and laughed and walked around the garden and talked about little nothings, and he was able to forget everything but the present for once, holding onto every moment so tightly that his memories and anxieties for the future melted away, letting himself believe he was really just a regular person having a nice night, undeniably human without a care in the world. He’d go back to his home, sleep in a real bed, and when he woke up he could do as he pleased, he could see Shiori again tomorrow, and the day after, and-

“It’s getting kind of late, so we should probably head back, shouldn’t we?” Shiori’s question snapped him back to reality, and all the circumstances surrounding it. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been having a good time, but I don’t want my dads to think I went missing or something.”

“No, that makes sense; I should probably see what’s up with-with my sister, anyway. I don’t think she wanted to stay super long.” He’d known they were going to have to leave eventually, but it still killed him inside that this was over now, that he really couldn’t stay here forever. He tried to savor the last few moments of holding her hand as they walked back, hoping she didn’t feel him shaking slightly.

Once they were back inside, Erebus scanned the crowd for Neteri, which was a little difficult given how small she was, but at least he was relatively tall compared to most of the people here, so it evened out. Eventually, he spotted her just as she was saying goodbye to Alina. Once the other woman left, he waved to Neteri as her eyes wandered in his direction. Once she saw him, she smiled broadly and beckoned him over. He held up a finger and turned back to Shiori. “I see my sister so I’m going to go check in with her really quickly. I’ll be right back, just-”

“Aw, is that her? She’s so cute and tiny!” She looked back and forth between them. “You guys don’t look too much alike, huh?”

“We’re, uh, we get that a lot.”

“Well, regardless, I’d love to meet her! So let’s both-”

“N-no, that’s, um, she’s...she’s really awkward. Like really awkward and I don’t want her to say anything weird or try to embarrass me because she likes doing that so I’m just going to go talk to her really quickly and I’ll meet you right back here okay bye.” Erebus slipped away as soon as he was done talking, hoping Shiori wouldn’t follow. He knew Neteri would ruin things somehow if she talked to her, either by getting mad at her for touching her...her property without permission or unknowingly saying something that contradicted the story about himself that he’d told Shiori.

“There you are, Erebus! I was starting to get worried.” Neteri rubbed his arm, and he could somehow tell she wanted to touch him more possessively, but was restraining herself. “Why didn’t you bring your little girlfriend?” She smiled deviously, cocking her head.

“She’s not my-I didn’t want her to-”

“Aww, afraid I might steal her away?” She laughed at Erebus’s bewildered expression. “I’m just teasing, I get why you wouldn’t want her to meet me. Don’t go getting any ideas, though.” She reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb, and in that moment Erebus was very glad he’d said she was his sister. A gesture like that between anything but family or...or lovers...it would be weird. Still, he gently swatted her away after a moment, and she didn’t persist like usual. “Have you been having a good night?”

He smiled and nodded firmly. “I have, and not just because of those flatbreads, it’s been really…” His face fell. “It’s time to go, though, isn’t it?”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah, it is. But you can go say goodbye to her first. I’m not in a huge rush.”

“Thanks.” Erebus started to walk away, but he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “Did you have a good night, Neteri?”

“I did!” She blushed fiercely. “Alina and I, uh…” She clasped her hands in front of her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, I’ll tell you later.” Erebus smiled and shook his head before returning to Shiori, who had busied herself with a small plate of cream puffs. He took a deep breath as he got close, trying not to think about what saying goodbye to her meant.

“What’s up, Erebus?” Shiori innocently looked up at him, holding out her plate. “Do you want one?”

“I-uh, sure, thanks.” It was so light and delicious and sweet, and he probably wouldn’t have something like this for a while-no, no, don’t think about it, don’t cry-

Shiori giggled. “You got cream on your nose, here.” She gently wiped it off with a handkerchief, and Erebus’s face burned red once again.

“Thanks. But, Shiori, I…” he cleared his throat, “I have to go now. Thank you for making this such an amazing night I had a lot of fun with you and I think you’re really pretty and I’m really glad I got to meet you.” He blurted it out with an embarrassing lack of eloquence, but he was too nervous and sad to do any better. Shiori didn’t seem to mind, looking up at him with a warm smile.

“I’m glad we met too, Erebus! You made this a night to remember; I had such a good time! In fact, I...” She set the plate down, turning back to him with a hopeful smile. “When can I see you again?”

Erebus froze, panic starting to worm its way into his mind. W-what was he supposed to say he wanted nothing more than to see her again but he-he-he was- “I-I would really love to meet up with you again, Shiori, I really would, but I...I can’t and I can’t explain why-it’s complicated and there’s nothing I can do.” He blinked away the tears that were rapidly forming in his eyes, fists clenching.

Her face fell into a look of dejected confusion. “O-oh. Well, if you, uh, change your mind or whatever...how about you meet me by the fountain in the central square in three days’ time?”

“I-okay.” His heart broke as he said it, at the thought of her waiting for him, her wanting to wait for him, scanning the crowd, her hopefulness dwindling away with the hours, but what was he supposed to say, that he didn’t want to see her again, that he didn’t like being with her, that she hadn’t made him feel normal and shamelessly happy for the first time in months, that he really wouldn’t mind just- “I won’t forget you, Shiori.” He stuck out his hand, trying to keep it steady. “And thank you again for a wonderful night.”

She took it tenderly, far more tenderly than she had any right to, and brought it up slightly. “And I won’t forget you, Erebus.” And then she leaned down, and for the briefest moment her lips were against his knuckle, and then she was gone, just like that, vanished, and he knew he would never see her again, that every fantasy he’d dreamt up over the past few hours would never come true, and maybe some part of him vanished with her, and there was another hand in his now, one that stroked him lovingly only a little more often than it held the blade that sliced his skin.

“Are you ready to go now, Erebus?”

“Y-yeah.” No no I’m not wait just another second-He curled his fingers around hers-please I don’t want this part of my life to be over I don’t want to say goodbye not yet not yet-and took one last look at the quieting party-please just one more moment I promise I’ll savor it just let me stay for a little longer-at all the smiling faces and glittering gold-I don’t want to let go I can’t I can’t why do I have to go please please let me stay here forever-the last few people on the dance floor wrapped in each other’s arms-why can’t I stay-as the rest trickled out-why does it have to end-

And then he turned around and followed Neteri, leaving the party behind. Leaving Shiori behind. Leaving his old life behind. Leaving Prince Erebus Arctas Fradier behind.

Now he was just Erebus, and he was just Neteri’s, and he’d never be anything more.

Extra - Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @lave-whump @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #noncon touching #honestly at this point idk if its more like dubcon touching since erebus is starting to really like it when neteri touches him #its like his guilty pleasure. esp when she pets his head #yes i wrote this with the full intention of fucking destroying you. did it work #look at that erebus smiled at his reflection!!! everything in it is fake <3 #this entire thing was inspired by some picrew livi rbed where you could make two people dancing #so ofc i made erebus and neteri dancing and i was like 👁 o shit #and then it devolved into this long giant mess of bittersweetness #we get the rare holofoil neteri without her lab coat 😳#now that she knows the eye color illusion spell she might use it on herself for fun #and FUCK we finally got to him asking her if they'd be friends if things were different (┬┬﹏┬┬)#and hey erebus gets to actually say goodbye to his old life cuz he never really had the chance to before #meet cute: she tries to trick you into not eating the good food so she can have more for herself #sorry if any of the romance stuff is weird i dont know what the fuck im doing!!! aromantic bitch hours #i simply stole all the vibes of aoi shiori and nirvana. mostly nirvana. thank you tia #but yes shiori is named that because i already associated the song with this whole thing and so when i named her it was the obvious choice #also i say that like i didnt write this while basically only listening to soundtracks produced by monaca #if you have seen me listening to banquet of death by crushing and confronting god in the forest on repeat: no you didn't <3

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (Prologue)

“Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

It was only when I stood before Osborn's door that I realized the startling fact: this was the first time I'd ever been to his place.

A few days ago, Osborn's neighbour entrusted their cat to him because they were going to be gone on a business trip. And shortly after that had happened, I'd received Osborn's obligatory cat-lover "Invitation".

And thus, that was how I now found myself before his door, with the glee of having received his invitation swiftly being replaced by nerves.

I hesitated, pulling our previous chat back up on my phone to double-check the address.

It was then that the door opened with a click.

Osborn: Oh? Already here?

A familiar voice sounded, making me abruptly raise my head.

Osborn was leaning sideways against the door, staring at me with an impish glint in his eyes.

MC: I just got here and I was just gonna check if this was the right place.

Osborn: Check?

Osborn: My bad. Looks like I'm going to have to remember which door it is next time.

MC: No need, no need. I can tell which door's yours now!

Osborn: Then, come in?

I quickly nodded and followed him in.

❖☆———————————★❖

All Osborn had on was a simple black singlet and a pair of casual sweatpants.

I'd rarely seen him in such a casual state of dress, so I couldn't stop my lingering eyes as I drank the sight of him in.

Osborn: Want something to drink?

MC: Nope, no need!

Osborn paused for a while after hearing my reply, but he continued pouring the water into the glass.

When the glass was filled, he turned around and leaned closer to me with a mischievous smile.

Osborn: You seem nervous today.

I felt my face burn. I swallowed my saliva and attempted to still my racing heart.

MC: Only because this is my first time in your house, and everything feels so foreign...

I averted my gaze, purposefully trying to look relaxed and at ease as I surveyed his home.

The living room wasn’t overly decorated and it was painted in a simple, minimalistic, colour. It was overall simple and refreshing. That being said, there didn’t seem to be a trace of there being a cat here at all.

MC: Right. Where's the cat?

Osborn handed me the glass of water before lazily sweeping his gaze across the living room.

Osborn: Mitt? Mitt!

MC: Mitt? ...Is that its name?

Osborn: Yeah. Its owner calls it Mitchell, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, so I just call it Mitt. It seems to understand me when I do, anyway.

MC: That's… Well, okay then…

Osborn: It was still slinking around here earlier. Might have run off into a corner somewhere.

His gaze snapped back to me. He suddenly raised a brow, gesturing at the backpack I was carrying.

Osborn: Just what did you stuff into that bag of yours to make it so bulky?

Osborn: And you've been carrying it this entire while too. Isn't it heavy?

Upon his mentioning of the backpack, I then recalled with a start about the “business” I was here for today.

I quickly placed the backpack onto the sofa, taking out the many cat necessities I’d packed in, enthusiastically showing them all to him.

MC: Look! This is a cat food bowl that I especially picked out! It looks like the gigantic face of a cat. Isn’t it cute?

MC: I also bought two flavours of cat food since I didn’t know which one it’d like. I’ve got salmon flavour and chicken flavour here.

MC: Oh, and this! I thought it might like it!

I picked up the cat teaser wand and shook it, ringing the silver bell attached to it and releasing a crisp sound into the air.

Suddenly, a small black head poked out from the kitchen door. Its eyes were wide and round as it stared curiously at the wand in my hand.

MC: Look, Osborn! It came!

Osborn: Looks like it really does like this one.

Then, it averted its gaze from the wand, giving us both a glance.

However, it disappeared from our sight as quickly as lightning before we barely had the chance to blink twice.

MC: ...Eh? And you're gonna leave just like that?

I shook the cat teaser wand again, but it never once reappeared.

Osborn looked at the items laid out on the table, frowning slightly, his expression tinged with a faint hint of confusion.

He picked up a small cat post.

Osborn: And what's this supposed to be?

MC: It’s a small cat post! It can be used to satisfy a cat’s natural innate tendency to want to climb everything and anything they see.

MC: It can also prevent them from messing the house up from all the climbing up and down they’re inclined to do.

Osborn: Oh. This one's well-suited for it.

MC: Haha, is it that playful?

Osborn: Hmm. Well, the owner said that their house was always in constant chaos thanks to it. They also said that their cat would normally be a little more obedient when it is in a new environment.

Osborn hesitated for a moment as doubt and a bit of helplessness slipped into his voice.

Osborn: But maybe my place isn't exactly new to it. Obedient, huh… Don't really see that happening.

MC: That bad? Maybe it wouldn’t attempt to demolish the house with all it's jumping around with all these toys here now?

MC: I even prepared yarn balls and stuff!

Osborn: A new boss is in office, and this one seems terribly well prepared.

MC: Of course I am! As soon as I heard that you were going to be temporarily housing a cat, I immediately went to place some orders online.

Osborn: You were looking forward to it THAT much?

Osborn: Looks like I'm gonna have to have it over as a guest more often.

My face flushed a slight red as I shoved the cat food bowl into his arms.

MC: No slacking! We're setting these all up together!

Osborn froze for a bit before taking the cat's food bowl from me.

Osborn: No problemo. I'm at your service.

MC: Ahem. Then, where would it be better for us to place all of these?

Osborn looked at the area for a while before slightly raising his chin and gesturing in the direction of the kitchen.

Osborn: The kitchen's entrance, I guess. It's almost always hanging out there.

After determining how and where we were going to set the whole ensemble up, we immediately got down to work.

Osborn casually opened a bag of cat food, pouring it into the cat food bowl I was holding. Following that, I tore off the plastic wrapping that covered the scratching posts, putting the simple cat post together with Osborn.

Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.

I looked all over, but I saw neither hide nor hair of it.

I attempted to call it out by calling it by its name of “Mitt”. Osborn had also attempted to shake the cat teasing wand in an attempt to lure it out, but we didn’t see even so much as a whisker of it.

Osborn: It’s usually ready to jump at anything and everything, but now it’s shy?

MC: Looks like it went into hiding. How about we split up and look for it?

Osborn: Okay. I’ll take the rooms on the north and you can take those on the south.

MC: Okay!

I searched for a good long while, but it wasn’t in either the kitchen or the study.

I was just about to go over to Osborn to ask about how his search was going when I suddenly noticed a small room right next to the study.

The door was also cracked slightly open.

MC: Huh. Did it go inside here?

❖☆———————————★❖

I gently pushed the door open and walked in. I was instantly greeted by display shelves that spanned the entire wall the moment I walked in.

Inside the many display shelves were racing trophies of all shapes and sizes. There were also photos of Osborn and his teammates, along with several race car models that were modelled after their real-life counterparts.

MC: Is this Osborn's collection room?

I couldn’t help but stop short. I suddenly caught sight of a black shadow seated atop a shelf.

MC: ...Mitt!

It was just about to get a paw on a red and white racing car model inside the shelf.

Probably having noticed the movement on my end, it tilted its head to look at me, its paw suspended in mid-air.

MC: What… What is it trying to do? Don't tell me...

I gasped in surprise, subconsciously holding my breath in nervousness.

We’d interlocked gazes for only a second before its ever-vigilant amber eyes flashed.

It lightly and resolutely batted its paw at the model it’d set its eyes on immediately after.

MC: AH!!

I subconsciously lunged at it, but all I caught was thin air.

The car model fell to the ground with a clatter, shattering into its many compartments with its wheels spinning in the air from the impact.

Upon seeing the result of its actions, Mitt quickly fled from the scene of the “crime” with a satisfied little meow.

MC: Wait!

I didn’t manage to stop it in time at all. It all happened in a split second, and now I was the only one left in the room with the overturned car model.

What am I to do now?

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #黑色对峙 #Black VS Black

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

intellectual guesswork.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: another ajf update that requires absolutely no context to enjoy! i love you all so much. send some extra love to your favorite writers this week :)

one quick thing - if you’re on my taglist, please consider dropping a reply or a reblog! i love to see what you all think, and it encourages me to keep going :) it’s also getting a bit long, and i want to make sure my mutuals and people who engage are seeing everything - tumblr sometimes has a hard time with a lot of mentions.

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “ignorance of the law excuses no man - from practicing it.” - addison mizner. au!may 2008

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? edited: january 12th, 2021

You all settle into one row. Aaron’s on the end beside you, looking very sharp in a crisp black suit, his favorite Rolex, and a settled kind of confidence you’ve only seen in him a few times. It’s like he’s in his natural habitat.

Aaron’s record as a federal prosecutor speaks for itself, of course, but you’ve never seen him in action. As often as they can, the bureau’s leadership sends him in as an expert witness. This time, the case happens to be one of yours. The judge hasn’t required a sequestration for Aaron, so you get the treat of sitting together in the courtroom.

He’s scoffed and mumbled snide remarks under his breath all morning. You’re just itching to see him get up on the stand and give this joker an education.

Emily leans over, whispering in your ear. “I promise you’ve never seen anything like this before. Hotch is going to rip this clown to shreds.”

You stifle a laugh and look over at Aaron. He heard her. Leaning toward you, he murmurs, “All my JD does is collect dust. When I use it, I’d like to enjoy it.”

“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call our expert witness, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, to the stand.”

He takes a breath and rises, buttoning his suit jacket and crossing the courtroom. His presence commands respect and everyone in the courtroom seems to shrink before him.

The prosecution’s questions go over smoothly, and the defense attorney stands with an unreasonable amount of confidence.

Emily leans over. “He thinks he can get Hotch with at least one of these questions, and he might. But just watch.”

You nod, taking everything in.

“So you’ve stated that it was your profile of the killer that led you and the police to my clients door that night.”

“Behavioral analysis was a factor in our investigation, yes.”

Without hesitation, the attorney follows up. “And was behavioral analysis also a factor in the Olympic Park bombings case in Atlanta?”

“Yes, it was.” Aaron’s eyes and tone never waver, no hint of arrogance or cheek.

“And was that suspect you identified,” the attorney asks, far too aggressively, “Richard Jewell, ever convicted of the bombings?”

The prosecution objects, and you watch Aaron. Every part of him observes the proceedings with an outwardly detached interest, but his eyes are alive - strategizing and anticipating. It’s like you can see the wheels turning as the lawyers bicker.

The judge ends the squabble. “I’ll allow it.”

Aaron, now with permission, answers simply, “No, he was not convicted.”

“Because he was innocent. Your profile led you to the wrong man.”

Oh, give me a break. It takes everything in you not to scoff and you can feel Emily’s eye roll.

“Jewell was not the perpetrator, but if you look at the real Olympic Park Bomber, Eric Rudolph, you’ll see that our profile was dead-on.”

Dead-on indeed, Aaron.

“Well, how about we look at the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was Black and from the suburbs.”

Aaron’s eyes narrow and you feel Spencer shift beside you. Emily shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “He always recovers, never in the way you’d expect.”

“How do you know?”

Emily’s face pulls into a little smile. “I’ve read the transcripts. Hotch is terribly clever.”

“You said that Dennis Rader, the B.T.K. Killer,” the attorney continues, “was divorced and impotent. He turned out to be married with two kids.”

JJ huffs, and you hear her whisper to Spencer, “Can we quit with the sermon?”

His lips turn up. “Just wait.”

Dave leans over and stares them down over Derek. Stop talking.

All of you look down at your hands like chastised children, but your gaze floats back to Aaron right away.

The prosecution objects again, this time on the grounds of preaching. The judge forces a question, and the attorney turns back on Aaron.

“Having been wrong on those cases, isn’t it possible that you were wrong about Brian Matloff?”

“No.” Your chest squeezes. He’s completely firm in his denial.

How does he do that?

“Fact is,” the attorney continues like Aaron didn’t speak at all, “behavioral analysis is really just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.”

“Objection!”

Her outburst is unnecessary. Aaron has a plan. His eyes track to you as if to check in. Are you paying attention?

If you weren’t watching before, you’re certainly watching now. Always.

“Withdrawn.”

“Charcoal grey.” His flat assertion makes you gasp and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound.

The attorney turns around. “Well, look at that,” he exposes his socks to the court, and they are, in fact, charcoal grey. “He got one right.”

Aaron’s not finished. “You match them to the color of your suit to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had the soles of your shoes replaced. One might think you’re frugal, but in fact, you’re having financial difficulties.”

You do your best to school your expression and remove your hand from your mouth. Checking down the row, you see six smirks watching the witness box.

“You wear a fake Rolex…”

And you’d know.

“...because you pawned the real one to pay your debts. My guess would be to a bookie.”

Is he smiling?

“I took this case pro bono.” There’s tension in Mr. Charcoal Grey’s voice. You can hear it behind the false confidence and it pulls a smile from you. “I am one of the most successful criminal attorneys in the state.”

Hotch continues, completely bypassing him. “Your vice is horses.” There’s definitely a little smile on his face now. “Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from Colonial Downs. You’re getting race results.” Your smile gets wider, and Emily grabs your hand.

“Just watch.”

“And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day.” There’s something that looks almost like concern on Aaron’s face, but you know it’s nothing if not facetious. He’s ripping this poor man to shreds without changing a single thing about his presentation.

I love -

Don’t finish that thought.

Why not?

Remember how he’s freshly divorced?

I know, but have you seen him?

“That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law -”

You lean forward and Emily follows, her thumbnail between her teeth.

The final blow.

“- by always taking the long shot.”

If this was any other setting, you’re sure the entire team would be on their feet, shouting and jeering. But alas, you’re in court, so you settle for a wide smile and a suppressed laugh. Amused brown eyes meet yours from across the room and you shake your head just the tiniest bit. I can’t believe you.

His lips twitch.

“Well, you spin a very good yarn, Agent, but as usual, you’ve proven nothing.” He’s just trying to recover something, anything left of his dignity. He fails, miserably.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Aaron says, his eyebrows raised just a little, “the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

Just then, his Blackberry buzzes on the defense table. “Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed?”

You raise your hands to your face to cool the rising heat in your cheeks.

“Your honor, this is - “

The judge takes matters into his own hands. “What do you want me to do? Either show us your Blackberry or cut him loose, counselor.”

Hotch and the defense attorney share a loaded look. It’s a battle of wills.

Aaron wins.

“Nothing further.”

+++

When you all leave the courthouse, you practically latch onto Aaron’s arm, completely floored.

“How did you do that?”

He laughs and Derek jumps up beside him, shaking his shoulders. “Come on, Hotch. That was incredible.”

“Why have a law degree if you aren’t going to use it?”

+++

He offers you a ride home later that evening and you take him up on it. You’re both still in the car, idling in front of your house.

“That really was impressive today,” you admit, your eyes on your hands.

You can feel his soft smile rather than see it. “Thanks. I know it didn’t quite go the way we wanted as far as the case itself, but there’s more to come.”

“It’s never as bad as it looks in the first couple of days.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Thanks again for being there today. It’s…” his lips twist as he thinks, “nice to have the team around.”

You reach out, squeezing his forearm before immediately letting him go. “Of course. We’ll always be there for you. Plus, there’s nothing better than watching you tear blowhard lawyers to shreds in a court of law.”

“I’m not sure that’s exactly how it went.”

“You’re kidding!” You laugh. “That’s just what happened. The man left without half his soul! You absolutely tore it from his body.”

The pair of you quiet, and you move to get out of the car. He stops you with a hand over yours as you unclip your seatbelt. “Really. Thanks for being there today.”

“I can’t emphasize this enough - it was my pleasure.”

Enough of a pleasure as it was, his smile in the dark of the car is the best part of your day.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

"a single thread of gold/tied me to you" for ironhusbands?💛

If there is one thing that James Rhodes cannot stand, it is “love at first sight.” In his professional and personal opinion, there is no such thing. It is simply a concept that Disney invented so they could make cutesy stories about princesses finding their princes immediately and give people hope about love, but in the end it is all about the money.

“You’re a cynic,” his sister Jeanie tells him over breakfast. She flings a stray Cheerio at him. “You are a cynic and you’re never gonna date someone because they’re going to think you suck.”

“People are going to date me and realize that I’m a good, realistic choice,” James responds, sticking his tongue out and stealing a drink of her orange juice. “People are going to date you and you’ll be disappointed because you watched too many romantic movies and you let it taint reality.”

“Loser.”

“Dork.”

And then he’s in college.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t meet Tony Stark for two years despite the fact that every single year, they live in the same building on different floors. He has had to evacuate about twenty different times because Tony cannot stop himself from doing experiments in his room.

The third year, James is an RA and required to live with one of the residents because of “experimental tendencies.” They don’t elaborate on why he’s stuck with a roommate, what the tendencies are, or who he is.

“You’ll know,” comes the email from the coordinator, and he has never wanted to curse so badly in an email before, but here he is.

But he’ll deal with it. Just like how he’s going to deal with everything this year.

He thought he would get the room to himself for a little while before everyone moved in and brought everything and he would check them in.

But no.

There’s his roommate, lounging on a bed, and grinning.

“Simply enlightening to meet you, James. They told me I could come back if I had a trusted roommate.”

“And they stuck you with me?”

“Well they were going to stick me with some dude who got the email, and then immediately transferred to Dartmouth. So I think you were the second option.”

“Great.”

He hates life, maybe just a little bit.

Tony wants to do things. Which is fine, but he isn’t really in the mood to have the conversation of the fact that he can do things, but he doesn’t want to do them. He has to focus on being an RA and preparing for the Air Force.

“Why prepare for that when you could be living?” Tony asks, lounging on Rhodey’s bed.

Oh yeah, that’s new too. Rhodey. Apparently, “Jim,” “James,” and “Rhodes” were unacceptable nicknames.

What is acceptable is Rhodey. And of course, the “honey bunches of oats” and “loveliest RA of all time in the history of MIT” and “sugar-puff” and “sweetness overload”

He’s responding to all of them, by the way.

Rhodey didn’t think his mental health would get this bad by the beginning. He had actually scheduled it to be around October.

And then the students come. There are nervous freshmen, the sophomores who don’t say anything as they move in and get settled, and the returning juniors and seniors greet Rhodey and Tony with familiarity and laugh about the posters that Rhodey’s worked hard on.

“So, we’re having joint-RA’s or something?” Miles asks, throwing his comforter over his bed.

“No, we’re not,” Rhodey says, hoping his expression is somewhere along the lines of not-showing-emotion. “Tony’s just...”

“I’m simply too exhausting for Housing to deal with anymore, so I have a babysitter,” Tony says with a wink. “And who better than our lovely Rhodey?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sugar-puff?”

“Still no.”

Miles snorts.

“This year should be good. Tony, you gonna pull any fire alarms this year?”

“Rhodey has expressly banned experiments in the building, unfortunately,” Tony sighs. “It’s like he doesn’t want everyone to bond over having to leave at two in the morning...”

“Nothing says bonding like hating a rude wake-up call,” Rhodey says, and Tony nods. “We’ll let you get all moved in, Miles. Remember that floor dinner is at six!”

“You got it!”

Rhodey gives Tony a look.

“You know, I can do this on my own.”

“Aw shutterbug, I’m not gonna let you.”

“Are you really this intent on following me around?”

“Well, what if I want to overtake your position next year? What if you tragically get a raging headache and it’s up to me to know what to do? What if your mother kidnaps you and never lets you come here again?”

“I’m sure the college kids will be fine,” Rhodey stresses. “And I’ll still have access to email and the groupchat, genius.”

Tony just laughs.

“Alright, okay. I gotta go get some shit for my new class. The teacher sent out an email stating that the textbook is mandatory, and we have to do book work. This feels like eighth grade all over again.”

Rhodey snorts.

“Is it for Professor Casper?”

“Yeah, did you have him?”

“Yeah, you don’t need the book. You can find it online for free, and he never collects the book work. It’s a waste of time to get the book.”

“You’re an angel-and-a-half, love of my life,” Tony says. “And for that, I’ll snag an extra pudding for you at the dining hall.”

“Is it vanilla or chocolate this time?”

“Chocolate with cookies in it.”

“Oh my god, seriously? Already?”

“Guess they must have had a jump,” Tony teases. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Tony has a specific way of getting people to open up and actually talk with others that Rhodey envies.

If Tony wasn’t so hellbent on convincing the group that if Miles and Kamala create a distraction, they could totally sneak out one of the pictures of the mascot.

“We are not doing that the first week,” Rhodey says. “Maybe the last.”

“It’s a beaver,” Tony whines. “Who’s gonna miss it, a Canadian?”

“It’ll be the floor bonding activity,” Gwen says, finishing off her fifth (maybe sixth) slice of pizza. “Better than talking about your feelings about the campus or whatever.”

“No.”

“We’ll convince him soon,” Tony whispers conspiratorially. “Also, who here is a freshman? I have some advice regarding the math classes and which teacher you want...”

Rhodey does have to admit, that sometimes it’s easier to have Tony around, who is so willing to stay up until the late hours because of some stupid drama or to help Peter at his chemistry homework and also ease his anxiety about leaving his Aunt May all alone.

Tony isn’t all wild and crazy as stories have led him up to be.

"I wore out all my crazy freshman year after going to two frat parties and deciding that no one knew anything about how to have fun,” he declared. “I mean, come on. Why have beer pong when you could quiz people about obscure fashion facts?”

Rhodey snorts.

“Don’t make that the next game night. Hey, what do you think about having a movie night this Friday? I’m thinking something not scary, we’ve been doing a lot of those.”

“It is October, what do you mean not scary?”

“Some of our residents don’t like scary,” Rhodey reminds him. “Honestly, I think we could do with a bit of Halloween fun.”

“Hocus Pocus? Double Double, Toil and Trouble? If you want to be slightly scared of old women and clown parties, I’d recommend it.”

“You weren’t scared of clowns beforehand?”

“Of course not, I wanted what they have; the ability to fit eighteen people in a car.”

“Couldn’t you just gut the car?”

“Not the same effect, honey-pie. Not the same effect.”

Miles and Peter both end up lobbying for Hocus Pocus, with little to no competition other than a promise that the other choice would be shown later on in the semester.

They’ve shoved all the chairs together and multiple people have brought out their own chairs, and Tony saves a seat for Rhodey under the premise of “Rhodey organized it, he gets a seat.”

It’s a tough squeeze, and Tony and Rhodey get all tangled up together.

Tony smells like expensive cologne and coffee, and he grins up at Rhodey and maybe the lights from the TV aren’t bright enough, but for a moment his heart skips a beat.

Well. Shit.

When he goes home for Thanksgiving break, Tony seems a bit...sad.

“What, your mom cook the worst turkey in the world?” he jokes.

"Sure,” Tony says, eyes unfocused. “Yeah.”

"Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, turning. His smile brightens, eyes crinkling. “Why wouldn’t I be fine, buttercup?”

Rhodey gives him a look.

“I’m gonna call you when I get home, okay? You better answer.”

“I always answer to you,” Tony says, and damn Rhodey’s mind shouldn’t be going where it is.

Rhodey waves, gets in his car, and thinks about how Tony most likely has a problem on his mind, how he should probably not room with him, and his Aunt Ada’s green beans.

God, he loves those green beans.

Tony is alone for Thanksgiving. Jarvis and Ana got an opportunity to visit Aunt Peggy in England, and he knew that they hadn’t seen her in two years. He didn’t want to be selfish, have them stay just for him.

So, it looked like deli turkey sandwiches were in his future. If there’s still some soda in the fridge, maybe that too.

He sighs, and turns towards the lab. Dum-E’s not even here, as he didn’t fit in the travel car, so Tony let him loose on the floor to “keep guard” over the dorms and make sure that no one broke in or stole the cords that he knows he accidentally left in the common room.

The odd thing is, he had almost told Rhodey. Almost let him know that he’d be alone for Thanksgiving, but is that weird? That’s weird, right? To tell people your emotions just...it’s so messy.

They have to deal with it, you have to deal with the fact that they’re dealing with it, and then other people know that you both are dealing with it and it’s just a whole mess of epic proportions, you know?

Rhodey finds out on Thanksgiving, when they’re doing the parade on the TV and there’s a new snippet on the gossip channel when they go on commercial break.

Howard and Maria Stark, vacationing off the Mediterranean Coast.

“It’s reported that Tony Stark has preferred to spend his time in the vacation home,” the news reporter said, her smile wide and placid.

“Tony’s lucky,” Mama says, wrapping golden yarn around her fingers as she works on another sweater. (A small one, a tiny one. It’s for the new baby in the family for Christmas.) “He tell you about it?”

“He’s not there,” Rhodey says numbly.

“He’s not?” Dad says, eyes raised over the newspaper.

“No.”

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Dad asks.

“No, no he didn’t.”

“Well then. Next time he’ll come with us.”

Rhodey nods.

“Christmas?”

“Clear it with his parents if they’re not spending time together.”

“Got it.”

Rhodey’s Thanksgiving is...nice. He can’t stop thinking about Tony going alone.

So he calls him. It’s two in the morning, he might be asleep, and Rhodey’s not sure if he got the “eight” in the last four digits right or not.

“Howard’s out, who is it?” comes a sleep-addled voice.

“Good thing I’m not looking for Howard, Tones.”

“Rhodey? Why are you calling me?” Tony asks, and Rhodey can imagine his eyes lighting up and that’s...that’s something.

“You spent Thanksgiving alone, I wanted to see how you were.”

“Aw, checking in your residents?”

“Checking in on you.”

Tony stills for a moment at the phone.

Besides Jarvis, no one had ever really checked in on him.

“Um, I’m fine?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it sucks to be alone on Thanksgiving, but I don’t really like any of the foods that people usually have, so I’ve been fine. I ordered wraps from my favorite place.”

“Good to hear, good to hear.”

There’s a silent pause for a moment, the one where they both try to find something to say.

“Listen,” Rhodey says. “If you’re ever stuck for a holiday alone, you’re coming with me, okay?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your family,” Tony says softly.

“They all wanna meet you. Jeanie says she can kick your ass at ice hockey!”

“You guys can actually play ice hockey?”

“With limited degrees of success.”

“Oh, now that I gotta see some time.”

They come back to college, and Tony is back to his usual antics, greeting everyone who comes through the elevator with a shower of shredded paper.

“Welcome to Winter Wonderland! Next stop: suffering through finals!”

“Ugh,” Kamala groans, “stop it. Stop making me think. I have to memorize Byronic poetry. Do you know how boring that is?”

"Speak for yourself, I have to build a wooden chair,” Riri whines. “Who works with wood these days? It’s so old-fashioned.”

“Create the most bitching chair alive,” Tony says. “And I’ll help you with the necessary tools. Your professor isn’t expecting much, mainly just that it can support the weight of two people, you’ll be fine. Kam, Byronic poetry is not that bad, you will be good. We will bake cookies.”

“Can we even bake cookies? I thought our floor got banned from kitchen usage,” Peter says. “Hey Rhodey.”

“Hey kiddo,” Rhodey says. “First of all, yes we are banned from the kitchen. Second, we’re only banned and get in trouble so long as they know we’re there. And since more than half of us are nocturnal creatures and I am willing to wake up to help, we can bake cookies.”

There are cheers around the room, and Tony mocks offense.

“You don’t trust me to help the future youth?”

“Given that we’re not allowed to rent out any more equipment from the front office? Yes.”

“You wound me, darling.”

“Only as much as kitchen equipment goes, sweetheart.”

Tony grins.

“Aw, you missed me.”

“Yeah, I did. Now come on, you gotta help me with a billboard about the movie night this Friday. We thinking a romantic comedy or something mildly terrifying but probably won an award?”

“Mildly terrifying!” Gwen calls from her dorm. “If we watch two people falling in love I’ll choke! We’ve been doing it all year!”

“We’ve only watched, like, three rom-coms?”

Gwen rolls her eyes, as if he’s missed something completely obvious.

“You don’t get it. I’ll try again later. Hey, are we doing floor dinner tonight?”

“They’re serving pizza sandwiches, so obviously,” Tony says. “We will feast like kings.”

Christmas is a festive time for Tony. He loves it, and goes overboard with decorations. Rhodey lets him, because you can’t stop Tony once he loves something (and Rhodey is kind of. Fond of him).

Pepper comes up from the fifth floor, whistling.

“Damn, Jim. I knew you would do a good job with decorations, but not this good. Is this...did you buy a miniature village? How was this budgeted?”

“It wasn’t,” Rhodey says. “Tony’s really into Christmas and the floor convinced him that the theme should be Christmas Village. He’s been crafting identities for each villager instead of studying for any exam. The craft store employees know him by name now.”

“Well, we all have our vices. You two seem to get along well. Housing is pleased that he hasn’t blown up anything yet.”

“If they try to serve cheese ravioli again, he might.”

“That’s a problem for Dining,” Pepper reminds him.

“Still, it’s abominable. Where did they get them, bottom of the Hudson River?”

She snorts, adjusting her shirt.

“Probably, but hey. They still got eaten, even if that one freshman threw them all back up at the entrance.”

“It was payback, they were vile.”

Tony waltzes into the lobby, arms filled with glittering tinsel.

“We are not letting you hang that,” Pepper says, gaping at it all. “Do you know how hard it is to get rid of tinsel?”

“We’ll manage!” Tony says. “Also, are you free at six-thirty?”

“No, that’s when we’re getting dinner on my floor, what do you need?”

“Just that little tidbit of knowledge,” Tony says, looking down at his phone.

A message buzzes from the groupchat, and Rhodey glances at it:

We are a go for the real Christmas tree. I have the vacuum, and a believable lie. Rhodey’s gonna tell us when the RA on duty is gonna come so we can hide it.

Rhodey looks at Tony, grinning. He smiles right back.

“Is there some weird roommate telekinesis I’m missing here?” Pepper asks.

“Yes,” Rhodey says. “We’re discussing dinner plans.”

Another text from Harley:

I’m already picking one out with Peter. I have good taste. When is the ornament-making party?

Pepper looks at them.

“You’re planning something that I probably would have to disapprove of. I’ll tell people I got your floor watched tonight.”

“Pepper, light of my life, my absolute sunshine? You’re the best,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey-darling, help me with tinsel?”

He can’t say no. Simple as that.

That is how tinsel gets strung throughout his hair as he’s watching Tony climb onto chairs that shouldn’t be climbed on to hang it from everywhere.

“People deserve to have a good-looking Christmas,” he says. “Besides, I wanna win the decoration contest.”

Rhodey laughs.

“Okay, okay. I think we got it in the bag.”

Later on in the week, Tony can be seen flitting about from room to room with help and jokes to lighten the mood.

Rhodey has to admit, being an RA with Tony around is...nice. Better than he thought.

And maybe he has feelings. He’s not going to say anything about it. After all, they’re roommates. He also isn’t allowed to have a relationship with anyone on the floor, regardless of anything.

It doesn’t mean every RA follows it. God knows Sharon’s snuck down to the fourth floor to see Sam near-about every night, and her residents usually keep it a pretty good secret.

Still. There’s also everything else to consider, and the fact that he doesn’t even know if Tony likes him like that.

He doesn’t have to focus on it.

At least, not until the week of finals when he’s dying and Tony’s made him peppermint hot chocolate and sits on his bed, just about an inch away from his notes for his history class.

“Do you remember what you told me on the phone?” Tony asks softly.

“You up to compete against Jeanie for this year’s ice hockey championship?” Rhodey asks, smiling.

Tension releases from Tony’s shoulders.

“Only so long as you’ll have me.”

“Always, genius. Always.”

After the last resident leaves for the holiday and Rhodey checks in with those who are staying, he and Tony hit the road, dragging suitcases behind them.

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” Tony asks. “I can always find a hotel along the way...”

“Mama wants to meet you, I keep telling them a ton about you,” Rhodey says, laughing. “They told me they want to hear your side of the great Glitter Debacle.”

Tony laughs.

“You mean the truth?”

“Uh, I’m sorry, how are you going to convince them that green glitter was needed? And that you could clean it out of carpet?”

“Determination and grit?”

Rhodey laughs again as they pull onto the highway.

After a couple of hours, they make it to Rhodey’s home. His sister comes out, hugs for both.

“Good to meet you Tony,” Jeanie says. “I’ve heard a lot, and I think we’re going to get along awesomely after I tell you every single embarrassing thing that Jim’s ever done.”

“Only if I get to share stories too,” Tony teases, grinning. “Aw, they call you Jim?”

“What do you call him?” Jeanie asks.

“Jim-Jam, angel-dear, sugar-puff, Rhodey. You know, the usual.”

Jeanie snorts, taking one of Rhodey’s bags.

“Calling you the first one from now on.”

“Tony did you have to let her hear any of those?” Rhodey asks, exasperated in a teasing manner.

“Of course I did,” Tony sing-songed. “Now after you, I’m sure your mom is waiting to hug the living daylights out of you.”

It’s not until Rhodey gets all settled in and Tony is downstairs competing with his dad in a round of chess that Jeanie sits on his bed, the intention to annoy.

But it’s...different. She looks at him.

“You love him a lot, don’t you?”

Rhodey stills.

“You wouldn’t have told him he could come here if you didn’t.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Jeanie says, flipping braids over her shoulder. “Nice of you to finally realize that I’m the smart one.”

Rhodey doesn’t say anything as she saunters out of the room.

He makes the decision not to tell Tony.

If it goes wrong and if Tony says no, he doesn’t want it to be an awkward family event but more importantly, the most awkward rest of the year ever. He can say it as they’re moving out, and that’s that.

He tells Jeanie as such.

“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” she says as they’re preparing the soup for dinner.”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Rhodey says. “I do believe in love. There’s a difference.”

There’s a hell of a difference.

First sight, you don’t know everything. The second, third, fourth, fifth, and so on? Oh you learn so much more, and they become that more important.

He learns that he doesn’t mind picking up tinsel, so long as Tony is laughing and singing along to all of the worst Christmas songs ever, and maybe. Just maybe he could picture looking at Tony underneath the fairy-lights that they hung in the dorm room for all time.

Love is terrifyingly exhilarating, even when it isn’t supposed to be.

Rhodey did not think his heart would race so much as Tony listened to his Mama talk about her wedding china, about the utter disaster that his father was.

“He forgot his tie,” Mama said, smiling. “Oh my lord, my mother had a cow about that. I thought he looked kind of dashing.”

Tony’s eyes drift towards the wedding pictures, which are slightly shaky, but everyone had such wide smiles.

It’s a far cry from the publicity photos from the Stark wedding, Rhodey remembers the solemn expressions, the stuff tuxedos.

“I love it,” Tony says softly. He looks at Rhodey across the table, setting down the final plate. “Tell me more, Mrs. Rhodes.”

“Call me Mama, honey, Mrs. Rhodes is for people I don’t like that much. I think you’re gonna be my new favorite.”

“Even over me?” Jeanie says, grinning as she kisses Dad on the cheek. “I’m your favorite.”

“You’re my favorite until now,” Mama says. “Don’t think I don’t know that you skipped out on setting the table because Tony was here and graciously offered.”

“It was nothing,” Tony says. “Just happy to help. Thank you for letting me stay at your home for the holidays.”

“We’re always lucky to have guests,” Dad says, setting down the main dish. “Now let’s eat.”

Family dinner is a brand new concept to Tony. He’s had maybe four or five of them, and the majority of which were staged for some holiday shoot or some “celebrating American values” shoot.

It was awkward, weird, and he didn’t get why.

Now, he does. Jeanie has been steadily moving mashed potatoes away from Rhodey’s plate, and Mama caught her eye and winked, distracting him with talk about his college major and news about the neighbors.

Mr. Rhodes watches it all with a careful eye and a lax smile.

After dinner, they play cards.

It should be boring, but Jeanie puts on an old record and Rhodey keeps trying to count cards, and Tony didn’t think you could count cards in a game of Spoons.

“You can’t, he’s just a try-hard,” Jeanie stage-whispers.

“You-”

Jeanie laughs, rolling herself out of Rhodey’s grasp as he chases her around the family room. Tony leans back into the couch, and shouts with surprise as Jeanie trips Rhodey into the couch.

His body twists, and Rhodey’s facing him on the couch and they’re close and with the fire roaring in the fireplace and the Christmas lights outside shining through the windows, it’s almost magic.

It is magic, but Rhodey is kind of terrified of that.

Tony breathes in, breathes out.

“Hello sugar-puff,” he says.

“Hello genius,” Rhodey says, a smile on his face.

Oh.

The night does not get much sleep.

Tony doesn’t sleep anyway, but Rhodey finds that quite often he can’t sleep without some softly-playing rock in the background, doesn’t matter if it is a highly-questionable AC/DC song. That and Tony softly murmuring about his plans, and it’s like a personalized lullaby.

Rhodey cannot sleep. Tony’s in the guest room, and he can’t sleep.

There’s a soft knock on his door.

Tony’s there in shorts and a t-shirt that’s probably expensive, but he’ll never say if it is or not.

“Can I...I can’t sleep.”

“Get in here, Tones. I can’t sleep either.”

The bed is a tight squeeze, but they make it work.

Rhodey whispers until he drifts off to sleep about Christmas and school and everything else.

Tony watches with quiet eyes, interjecting with his own stories occasionally.

They fall asleep tangled up together, and Rhodey doesn’t mind it one bit, not as he pulls Tony in closer.

Waking up is bittersweet, honestly. Rhodey has Tony in his arms, and that’s...that’s perfect. He thinks this is going to be the best thing that’s ever happened in his lifetime.

“It’s too early, darling,” Tony groans. The light from outside is already peeking through the blinds, and he has stuffed his head right back into a pillow.

“Jeanie’ll be here soon to bother us for Christmas breakfast,” Rhodey says. “And unless you want her pouncing on the bed and landing on wrong everything, we better get down there.”

Tony smiles sleepily, stretching.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in your room, honey-bunch.”

“No problem,” Rhodey said. “Missed the constant AC/DC and late-night discussions about robotics.”

“Not like I did much talking, Mr. Sap,” Tony teased. “Or was it me who mentioned that they had a favorite plate for dinner?”

“Listen, it’s superior and you did not once interrupt that story to complain. I think I did a great job explaining it.”

Tony laughs.

“I’m gonna go get dressed, okay?”

“Not until after present unwrapping,” Rhodey says. “We stay in pajamas.”

“I’m cold,” Tony whines.

Rhodey chucks his sweatshirt at him.

“Then here you go.”

Tony’s eyes light up as he shrugs it on, wiggling as he brings it up to his nose. It shouldn’t be that cute. But it is.

“You are the light of my life.”

Rhodey laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe. Now come on.”

They head downstairs together, and they both get swept up into the speed of things, with Jeanie racing around the house and telling Tony that he got treats too, they just didn’t have a back-up stocking.

“Hush,” Mr. Rhodes says, handing Tony a carefully wrapped gift. “After breakfast, we’ll go ahead and open it.”

He smiles, and Rhodey thinks it’s the best thing he’ll ever see.

Christmas gifts, Rhodey thinks, are his new favorite thing to see Tony interact with.

It’s painfully obvious that he’s never really had any personal gifts, anything that reminds people of himself. He carefully unwraps the paper, careful not to rip it.

“You nerd,” Rhodey says, grinning. “Come on, show us what you got.”

Tony laughs as he opens a box with two coffee mugs from the rest of the family, emblazoned with “Rhodes” on one cup, and the other being a simple red with gold trim.

“They’re perfect,” he says. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re feeding his coffee addiction,” Rhodey answers.

“Like you aren’t doing the same,” Jeanie teases. “You made him his cups of coffee this morning.”

“That is because I have trained him well,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey, here’s my present to you, open it.”

He’s nervous.

Both of them are, but Tony especially so.

He told Rhodey once that he’s not good at shopping for other people. He tends to have the phrase “go big or go home” permanently circling in his mind, and it can lead to...complications.

(Rhodey remembers the overhaul of his closet for his birthday, complete with a visit from a rather well-known designer.)

Inside is a beautiful jacket. It’s all patchwork, artfully sewn together with embroidery thread spelling out “James” at the lapel.

“I commissioned Janet,” Tony says, smiling softly. “She wants you to still walk in her fashion show, by the way. Says you’re a model.”

Rhodey snorts, shrugging on the jacket.

“You helped with this, right?” Rhodey says. “I can see it in the gold thread you got on the sleeves.”

“I may have had some creative input.”

“I love it,” Rhodey says. “Now here’s mine.”

Tony breathes, and Rhodey wonders if this gift will be enough. He feels a bit stupid, it doesn’t seem like that great of a gift, in retrospect-

It’s a puzzle.

A puzzle of their favorite cafe and restaurant to go to at MIT. It was in a shop window, and Rhodey could tell that Tony would love it.

On top is a scarf, since Tony gave away his last one to another student in their philosophy class.

“I love it,” Tony breathes, tackling Rhodey in a hug. “I love it, I love it! We have to do the puzzle after this.”

Mrs. Rhodes sends her husband a look.

Yeah, Tony would be around for a long time.

They set up the puzzle on the floor of Rhodey’s room, clearing away any luggage. It’s silent for a while, Tony moving around the pieces and Rhodey looking for edge pieces.

They work closely together, side by side.

Rhodey can’t stop staring.

He should be able to. He’s stopped himself before, but now?

Sunlight is coming in through the window, playing around Tony’s fingers as he nimbly picks up puzzle pieces, and this is the eternity that Rhodey wants so badly. If he died right now, he thinks he would choose for Heaven to look like this.

“You okay?” Tony asks, eyes looking up. He took his contacts out, and now he’s just in his tortoiseshell glasses, the ones that he secretly likes more and Rhodey loves.

“I’m in love with you,” Rhodey blurts out, because he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful Tony is and how much he loves him.

He realizes that this could very well be considered a mistake. Because they still have to live together and drive back together and it won’t be the same, and the residents will notice no matter how well they both act--

Tony pops his head right under Rhodey’s chin.

“Kiss me?”

That’s all it takes.

They mess up part of the puzzle, but that’s okay. They find they don’t mind it too much. They can work on it later, when Tony’s done getting Rhodey out of his new jacket and Rhodey works his hands underneath Tony’s sweatshirt.

Mama takes one look at them for dinner and grins.

“Jeanie, you owe me a night of dish-washing.”

“Seriously?”

“Mama!” Rhodey hisses, embarrassed beyond belief.

Tony just cackles, and elbows Rhodey out of the way so he can get to his chair at the table.

“Couldn’t have fooled you for a second, could we?” Tony teases.

“Not at all,” Mama states proudly.

Rhodey rolls his eyes and squeezes Tony’s hand under the table. All will be well.

When they both get back to college, none of their residents are surprised, at least not until they have to have a “knocking before entering” policy put in place after one particular late morning.

#lovelyirony writes #jeanie rhodes #mama rhodes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #pepper potts #harley keener #gwen but i can't remember her last name #spidey gwen #gwen spider-man #kamala khan #peter parker #tony stark #rhodey

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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years

Text

The Quarantine Chronicles

Turtles x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: There were a few of you that asked for being quarantined with the turtles, so here you go <3

Note: There’s one part for each turtle <3 Thanks so much for 3.5k!! I love you guys!!!

Warnings: Mentions of quarantine/the virus, but other than that, none??

Word Count: 1.5k

Intro

“Well, it’s confirmed.” Donnie pulled his goggles up onto the top of his head, his brothers looking at him, anticipation in their eyes. “We can’t contract or carry the virus.”

“We’re immune?” Leo checked.

Donnie nodded, typing rapidly into his computer. “Not only that, but we don’t have the ability to infect anybody either. Which means…”

“Yep, I’ll call her.” Raph dialed your number to deliver the good news.

“Hell yeah!!!” Mikey cheered skipping out of the lair.

***

It took about an hour for you to gather all of the things you’d need during quarantine and head down to the lair. The boys were waiting anxiously for your arrival, all of them sad about the circumstances but glad that it meant you got to spend some quality time with them. If there was anything they knew how to do, it was pass the time. After all, they’d basically been quarantined for the better part of fifteen years before they were finally allowed on the surface.

The boys set up a nice little bed for you. It was an air mattress, but Raph had knitted you a big red blanket during some of his time in the hashi, and it was warm and cozy, and Donnie had gathered a bunch of pillows, so pushed up against the wall, it was a perfect little cozy corner for you.

Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but you knew that in the lair, you’d be safe.

Leo x Reader ~ Stress Baking

“Ooh, that smells good. What are you making?” Leo had followed his nose to the kitchen, only to find you sitting on the counter wearing an apron.

“Oreo cheesecake cupcakes.” You replied, looking up at him and smiling, your legs kicking from your spot on the counter. “One of my favorite recipes.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of baking since you got down here. Are you…alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding. “I call this: controlling what you can when things feel out of control.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Stress baking.”

“Yes. Stress baking. Instead of writing my essay for Human Origins.” You shrugged. “I’ll do it when these are done.”

“I keep forgetting you’re still doing school stuff with all this going on.” Leo walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms. “That’s rough.”

“It really is. I’m making it work, though. I’m fine. I’m…I’m making it work.”

The oven dinged, so you hopped down from the counter and slipped on your oven mitts, pulling the tray of cupcakes out of the oven. They looked perfect. Now, they just needed to chill in the fridge for a few hours.

“Hang in there, okay?” Leo tilted his head, a concerned look in his blue eyes. “You’ve got us if you need any help with anything. I’m no expert on evolution or anything, but I’m sure Donnie is.”

“I’ll make sure to let you know if I need any help.” You nodded. After you turned the oven off, you turned to Leo and gave him a hug, which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight in his arms. “Thank you.”

Leo rested his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “Any time.”

Raph x Reader ~ New Hobbies

“Okay, so stick the needle in. Yep just like that. And then loop the yarn around. Yep, good job. And then…uh…here, let me see what you did…” Raph held up your knitting project, spinning it around to look at it. “I don’t know why it looks like that…”

You’d never seen him so patient before, but when you’d asked him to teach you how to knit, he’d been more than willing. Excited, even.

“Sorry I’m so bad at this…”

“No, yer not bad, believe me, it took me a long time to learn. It just takes practice is all.” Raph reassured you. “Why don’t…Hmm…”

“What?” You chuckled at the focused look on his face as he fixed the mistake you’d made.

Raph handed you the knitting needles and then sat crisscrossed on the floor. He patted his legs, motioning you over. “Come here, shorty, I think I know how to teach you.”

You crawled into his lap and he picked you up and repositioned you so that your back was against his plastron. He positioned your hands correctly, taking your little human hands in his giant green three-fingered ones. He walked you through the motions slowly, sticking the needle into the loop, wrapping the yarn around the needle, making the new loop, and then dropping the old one.

“Ohhhhhhhh that makes sense.” You nodded, everything finally clicking into place. “Could you do that one more time for me?”

“Yep. Like this. In, around, through, and off. In, around, through, off.” He did it a few more times so you could get used to the motion. “Alright, now you try.” He took his hands away, leaving you to do it on your own.

“In…around? Through…” you moved the needles, manipulating the yarn carefully. “Off. Like that?”

“You did it! Good job!”

“Thank you for teaching me!”

Raph hugged you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “Anything for my favorite student.”

Donnie x Reader ~ Bleach and Dye

“Okay, so the box says you shouldn’t leave it on for any longer.” Donnie read the label on the box of bleach for the thirteenth time. “Ready?”

“Yep.” You leaned back in the chair you had pushed against the sink, and Donnie helped rinse the bleach out. Next, he helped you blow-dry it. You looked at your reflection, tilting your head. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s a good look for you.” Donnie agreed, still uncertain how you’d roped him into this crazy scheme of yours. “Are you sure you want to go further?”

“Yep. I want to be purple.” You slid the little container of dye to him and his eyes widened.

“Well, alright…” Donnie exhaled, shaking his head. He read the instructions on the dye container and then started brushing it onto your hair from the tips to the roots. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Nope. But everyone on TikTok is doing it, so it was about time.” You shrugged, grinning as Donnie very carefully brushed the dye onto your bleached hair.

“I mean, if it makes you feel better with all this going on, then I guess it’s worth a try.”

“That’s my logic exactly.” You grinned and took a sip of your chai latte. You held it up to him so he could take a sip, and he did.

At first, Donnie had been a little squeamish of sharing straws, but since you had been around so much offering him sips of every frozen coffee or iced tea recipe you came up with, it didn’t bother him anymore.

“That’s good. Soymilk?”

“Vanilla soymilk.”

“Mmm, interesting.” He grinned.

The two of you sat around talking for a while before his timer went off and it was time to wash the dye out. He helped you rinse it out once again, drying it off with a blow dryer until finally, you straightened up to look at in the mirror. You squealed, beaming.

“It looks so good!!! Thank you Donnie!!!” You jumped up and latched onto him, your legs wrapped around his hips.

He grinned and grabbed onto your thighs, securing you in place better. “Of course, princess. Glad I could help.”

Mikey x Reader ~ When All Else Fails…Art

“So you take the Ziploc bag and you color on it with the markers you want like this.” You showed him, scribbling a random shape onto the clear plastic with an orange marker. “And then you pick another color, so pink.” You colored some more surrounding the orange blob, but not touching it. “And then I’m adding some yellow.”

“Okay…” Mikey watched intensely, very interested in the art technique you’d found on the internet. He was using some blue and green on his bag, and once you were done with the yellow, he used some of that too. “Now what?”

“And then you dip your fingers into the water and flick it where the marker is.”

“Alright.” Mikey nodded, dipping one giant finger into the water and copying you, flicking water onto the places where the color was.

“And then you mix it around like this.” You smudged the color with your fingertip, smearing it and blending the spots between different colors.

“Okay…” Mikey still wasn’t sure what this was supposed to accomplish, but he did it anyway.

“And then…and this is the cool part. You flip it onto the paper and press down.”

“WOAHHHHHH THAT’S SO COOL!” He exclaimed, spreading the color out on his paper. “Where did you learn how to do this, dudette?”

“On the internet.” You smiled, peeling the bag off of your paper and admiring your pseudo-water color masterpiece. It looked like a sunset. You handed it to Mikey. “For you, sir.”

He held a hand over his heart, gasping. “For ME?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m gonna frame this and put it on my bunk.” Mikey tackled you in a bear hug, pressing a dozen kisses to your cheek. “Thank you, angelcakes. I love it.”

#tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt imagine #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader

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