#tagging her for sorting sake will i draw her again soon

[right-agent]

no title for this one besides how charming ieytd 1 is

[h0rr0rsaxo]

Okay..hope you don't mind me sending you another request but Tony has got my mind going with all sorts of ideas...but for your sake i'll send you one of them. Also if you could...could you finish this one first? Unless you've already started on the others, then don't worry about it, but i'm really stoked for this one!

So Anni goes to Tony for her first ever tattoo. Its a full back piece...i'm imaging something like this --->XXX

Its a big back piece and that being said, Anni has to take off her shirt and bra...so she's bare. Tony is just kinda sitting there, trying not to look and he's like "ah...look at that ceiling...what a lovely ceiling that is." and Anni lays on her stomach and Tony gets all the stuff ready. One of the first things Tony notices is the scars on her body. Now usually Tony doesn't care to talk much to his clients but he just decides to break the silence and ask about them and that's when Anni talks briefly about who she works for and her job as a proxy and Tony is just noticing little things about her like how she doesn't squirm or squeal at the tattoo needle and she is just calm and collected as he works on this huge back piece. She's so calm and chill that she ends up falling asleep as Tony works on her, its like three in the morning and she's just tired, but Tony thinks she passed out so he's ready to go and get some water and food to try and help get her awake, but she wakes up and is like...oops and Tony actually laughs at it and mentions how hes exhausted too. So by the end of their session, Tony isn't able to get her tattoo fully done and he is completely booked with more appointments, so he does something that he would never usually do...

"Look....I usually don't do this, but if you want me to get it done soon then you can stop by my place and I should be able to finish it..." and he hands her a slip of paper with his address and phone number..

(tysm! no pressure and please feel free to change anything and go at your own speed! tsym again!)

[ tattoo artist. || simp party. ]

Warnings: None!

Tags: @insane-horror-movie-addict

A/n: Heh...this is cute.

Word count: 1,571

Grabbing his pen and a black pot full of his thin-tipped coloured skin markers, he wheels his chair even closer to Anni before pausing, leading her to look at him in confusion since she had already pulled her wrist in front of him, “You’re wearing a lot of clothing,” Tony muttered as she began to fiddle with the collar of her white tank top causing her to look at him with extreme confusion before mentioning, how it was colder since the Autumn season is coming around, leading him to hum in an understanding tone as she continued to play with the smooth fabric.Tony shakingly directs his line of vision towards the ceiling, humming a nervous tune while tapping his knee, waiting for the 'okay' from Anni— he was never good around attractive female clients, it always felt strange to him.

Slowly, Anni began to reach over to the top button to then unhook it from its loop before continuously doing the same with the others until enough skin of her back were exposed with her shirt resting on the side of her to which then he slowly moved away the right-hand side of her bra strap to fully expose the canvas that he wanted to mark so eagerly. Regrettably pulling away and finishing 'admiring' the ceiling, Tony quickly grabbed his black pen as he then leaned in towards her to start drawing the outline of his design on his now favorite canvas causing her to barely move even despite how ticklish and weird the sensation felt when the ballpoint pen continuously gently gilded upon her skin. However, what got her shaking the most was the constant feeling of the man's breath being felt on her upper body now that her shirt was basically off..

Tony is a tattoo artist who has been working in the industry for a few years. He's seen all kinds of clients, from the nervous first-timers to the seasoned tattoo enthusiasts. He takes pride in his work and enjoys the challenge of creating unique and meaningful designs for each of his clients in the under-realm— so he had completely expected her to be screaming and squirming, but she was completely calm— she didn't even look like she could feel the needle literally grinding against her skin at all.

As Anni continues to lay on her stomach, Tony gets all the necessary equipment ready. He takes a quick glance at Anni's body and notices the scars on her skin. Despite being a professional tattoo artist, Tony is not someone who usually talks much to his clients while working. However, he decides to break the silence and asks Anni about her scars. "Excuse me, you mind if I ask about your scars? I've only seen one other guy with this many— but on his back. He had the strangest yellow eyes as well, the people that walk in here are weird."

"Oh, those. I work as a proxy for a living. It's part of the job I guess." Anni briefly tells Tony about her job as a proxy and the dangerous situations she has been in. Tony is impressed by Anni's stubbornness and how truly nonchalant she was talking about all this absurd stuff. He admires how she has been able to keep going despite the challenges she has faced— he'd probably quit the moment he became a proxy if he was being honest with himself, proxies always looked depressed.

"I see. That's interesting. Does it hurt…?" As Tony begins to work on Anni's tattoo, he notices that she does not squirm or squeal at the tattoo needle. He is impressed by Anni's pain tolerance and how she is able to remain calm and composed throughout the process. Tony is able to fully concentrate on his work, knowing that his client is comfortable and at ease.

"Not anymore. I've gotten used to it. It's just another part of the job." Due to Tony's concentrating, she couldn’t help but keep silent to help him continue with his work causing her to glance around her room with her eyes before landing upon a wall where there was a multitude of messages written leading her to carefully scan the writings that were visibly presenting themselves. As expected, there were messages of encouragement - not that Tony seemed to really care, but it was nice of the client to do so - and a few drawings from other tattoo artists that Tony had famously done. However, not to her surprise, there were a few numbers here and there causing her to laugh silently since she couldn’t help it.

She lays down on the tattoo chair, and Tony starts to work on her tattoo. It's been a long day for Anni, and she feels herself dozing off as Tony continues to work on her. Tony assumes that Anni has passed out, and is about to go get some water and food to help her wake up. But just as he is about to leave, Anni wakes up, and Tony chuckles at her sudden awakening. He understands how exhausting the process can be, and mentions how he himself is drained.

"God, I'm not sure why I came so late if I'm being honest— I knew I would be tired." Anni says yawning— tired tears springing to her eyes, and Tony glances at her. He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off with a little lopsided smile on his face, he knew where she was coming from, he was similar in that way.

He doesn’t comment on it though. What is he supposed to say? He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of hsr piece- the first step, before he will see her again for the finished version of the piece. He finally connects the last line, and doesn’t think twice about what he says next. “Welp, I won't be able to finish this right now.”

Tony continues to work on Anni's tattoo, but it's already past three in the morning, and Anni is just too tired to stay awake. Tony notices this, and decides to halt the session. He knows that he won't be able to finish the entire tattoo, as he is completely booked with more appointments.

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of them to register the words, and Tony quickly occupies himself by turning off his gun and cleaning up her skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. Anni tries to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto her leg- silently ordering her to stay put, which she does. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts her leg to wrap it. “I’ll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I’d say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly.” He lectures her with a gentle voice, before letting her sit up.

“Thanks.” Anni says, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on her back. Tony chuckles.

“We’re not done yet, but I’ll take it.” He says. “I uh..” He starts, as she jumps off the stretcher and goes to put on her shirt. “uhm, look....I usually don't do this, but if you want me to get it done soon then you can stop by my place and I should be able to finish it....” He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he exhausts himself for a moment, because he had literally been booked with appointments, and he couldn't even finish this one. Quickly scribbling down his address, and number, he quickly slides over the piece of paper to her.

Tony does something that he would never usually do - he offers to continue the tattoo session at his home studio, on his day off. He sees the excitement in Anni's eyes, and knows that he has made the right decision.

“Like a date?” Anni asks, and he really wants to hit himself with how much he blushed. Anni quickly catches wind of this, and smirks, “I'm joking of course."

“I mean, if you want it to be?” He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird, trying to joke around as well. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. “It doesn’t have to be.. I know you’re already-”

"Tony, Tony," Anni grabs his shoulders, trying to shake him of whatever delusional exasperated state he was in, "It's fine— I was just kidding."

Yep— that checks in, why would he ever have a chance with some badass proxy chick?

[bokettochild]

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

[villainousshakespeare]

Bobby’s Play Date Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit​

It was months into the pandemic that had ground the world to a halt. Tom desperately hoped things would go back to normal soon, and that a vaccine would be found to help more people from getting sick and dying. There were, of course, many changes to the world at the moment that Tom was not pleased with. Being unable to work, for instance, or travel to visit his sisters was both frustrating and depressing. One change, however, he had to admit he was not completely adverse to.

Tom loved his fans. They were usually polite, often intelligent, and had donated millions in his name to charities. He often said that he couldn’t consider himself an actor without an audience, and he meant it. It was just that there were times when he wanted to enjoy a little anonymity. Particularly when health advisories suggested a six foot distance between people, Tom was relieved to be able to slip on a plain black mask along with his baseball cap and sunglasses and blend in with the other people wandering about on errands.

He was enjoying just such a stroll now despite the warmth, grateful for the ability to hide in plain sight. Bobby frisked happily on his lead, chasing after imaginary prey as they ambled aimlessly down the winding path. It was a lovely, sunny day, but fear was keeping many people at home and they had the park largely to themselves.

When they reached a bend, Bobby began barking excitedly and pulled Tom along, his human chuckling as he was dragged by his furry companion. The reason for Bobber’s excitement soon became apparent. Sitting on a bench placed beside a scenic little river was a woman in a flowered mask, holding the lead of a small, gold and white shih tzu dog in a ridiculous pink and white checked dress.

Tom had to take a firm hold as Bobby frantically tried to go over and meet the smaller dog, who had begun barking herself as they rounded the bend. Her fluffy head, complete with bow to keep the hair from her eyes, perked up, and she began jumping up and down in a little dance. Bobby calmed down a bit as he felt Tom’s pressure on his lead, but his tongue still lolled out of his mouth in a dopey smile.

“Steady,” Tom commanded, feeling embarrassed as Bobby continued to hover as close as allowed to the silly looking strange dog. “I’m sorry, I promise he is completely friendly.”

“It’s okay, so is she,” the woman replied, smiling with her eyes even though he could not see her mouth behind her mask. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

“Please, and thanks for asking.”

Letting the lead out a bit, Tom watched as the woman reached down to give Bobby a good pet, complimenting him on being a handsome boy. Her fluff of a pup had advanced timidly, and she and Bobby commenced sniffing and circling each other with obvious enjoyment.

“Wow, I have never seen her respond like that to a strange dog!” the woman laughed.

As she spoke, Bobby rolled onto his back and waved his paws in the air with a complete lack of dignity.

“Safe to say he is rather taken as well,” Tom chuckled. “Absolutely shameless! Mind if I have a seat? It seems a shame to deprive them.”

He gestured to the bench next to hers, wanting to keep a safe distance and indicate he respected her space, and the woman nodded. She was dressed much more simply than her dog, he noticed. Black leggings and long rose colored tee shirt, a pair of keds. Apparently, she got all of her whimsy out on her pup.

“What’s his name?” she asked, watching as the dogs frolicked with each other.

“Bobby,” he supplied. “I’m Tom.”

“I’m Leia, and that ridiculous creature is Lulu.”

“Like the princess?” he couldn’t help but ask with a chuckle.

“General,” she answered without missing a beat. “It’s what happens when you are born during the release of a cultural phenomenon. Pity all of the little girls out there now being named Daenerys or Gamora.”

Tom held his breath for a moment. If she was a Marvel fan, then did he have to worry about her recognizing him? Fortunately, she seemed more interested in the game of tag their companions were playing, and he let himself relax.

“There’s a dog run about half a mile from here,” he suggested after a few minutes of companionable silence. “It’s actually where we were headed.”

“I know, but Lulu is so skittish,” Leia sighed. “She just huddles in a little ball when the bigger dogs come near her.”

“She seems fine with Bobbers.”

“I know! Your adorable boy is some sort of sorcerer! It makes me so happy to see her playing with another dog!”

“I have to ask…”

“The dress?” she guessed; voice wry.

“Yeah.”

“She’s a rescue. When I got her, she was a pathetic, bedraggled little thing that had been there for ages. It was winter, and the first times I took her out I had to put a coat on her. After that, she started equating dressing with going out, and would get so excited every time I took a coat or sweater out for her. When the weather warmed up, I realized that I missed the way she would jump up and literally throw herself into whatever I had picked out for her to wear. It’s completely silly, I know, but it makes her happy, and she just looks so cute!”

Tom’s heart melted a little as he listened to her explain. Yes, the dog looked silly, but it was such a sweet reason that suddenly the little dress transformed into a symbol of kindness rather than an eccentricity.

“She does look adorable,” he said.

A beeping noise had him drawing his phone from his pocked, and he was surprised at the time. He had to get back home soon for a virtual session with his trainer. Oddly, he found himself reluctant to go. It had been so long since he had just spent time with another person, it had felt good just to sit in her presence and relax.

“I’m afraid I have to get going. But Bobby and I usually walk this way around lunch time,” he blurted out, lying through his teeth. “Hopefully we will run into you lovely ladies again. So that the dogs can play.”

He was more grateful for the mask than ever, as it hopefully hid the blush he could feel coloring his face. Once more her vivid eyes sparkled and she stood up too, twisting around with him as they attempted to untangle the leashes.

“I’m sure Lulu would love that!” she told him, picking up the golden dog as she whined and tried to follow after her new friend. “We’ll see you around, Tom. Bobby.”

With a jaunty step he let his long legs take him away, looking forward to tomorrow already.

It rained the next two days. Not just a soft drizzle but am early summer storm that made the idea of a pleasant walk a fantasy. Tom and Bobby both resented the weather, and it was a toss up which of them was more disagreeable as they were forced to stay indoors.

When the sun shone on the third day, Tom immediately cancelled all of his afternoon plans. He had waited patiently, he told himself, he was not going to let this day go to waste. It was for Bobby’s sake, after all. The pup deserved a nice day out after being shut up inside.

They left home mid-morning, Tom unable to sit still any longer. He couldn’t say why exactly he was so keen on meeting Leia and her silly dog again, but he had been able to think of nothing else during his enforced isolation. Perhaps it was simply the novelty of meeting someone new who didn’t instantly faun over him or act nervous and shy. She treated him as though he were just an ordinary guy walking his dog in the park; which of course was what he was!

He arrived at the benches where they had met earlier that week, but they were empty. It was still early, so they made a circuit of the nearby trails. His eyes always alert for their new friends. They passed a few other people walking their pets, but both Tom and Bobby were uninterested beyond a nod hello and brief sniff. The Hiddleston men were both to focused on finding particular companions.

It was, as it had been before, Bobby who first discovered their presence. As they were walking through a more secluded, twisting section of the park, the dog’s ears pricked up and he began barking in excitement. Tail wagging frantically, Bobby yanked on the lead and pulled Tom along behind him as he took off around a curve. A high pitched yip sounded from the direction he headed.

“Well hello there!” Leia greeted him, leaning down to scratch Bobby’s head as he and Lulu danced around each other. “We were hoping to run into you boys again!”

“Eh heh heh,” Tom laughed, dancing around to keep his leash from entangling too badly with hers. “Obviously Bobby here was looking forward to that as well! As was I.”

“Well then, I am so happy you found us.”

He felt absurdly pleased as they fell into step beside each other. The two dogs were happy to walk along, darting back and forth in play as they went.

“Were you going anywhere in particular?” Leia asked casually.

“Oh, just wandering about,” Tom answered, not wanting to admit that they had been on a mission to hunt down the ladies.

“Well then, we can wander together.”

As the dogs played, Tom and Leia chatted happily. He learned that she was an aspiring writer working on edits to her first novel, and a tour guide, specializing in guiding small groups around literary sights in London as a way to earn money.

“Of course, it’s hard to be a tour guide with no tourists,” she sighed. “You would think it would give me more time to write, but its hard to focus. Anyway, I talk too much. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m on furlough,” he shrugged, staying vague. “Just loafing about the house, annoying Bobby. So what is your novel about?”

He managed to direct the conversation back to her, even though she avoided the subject of her book. Instead, she brought up some of the more interesting places she had brought tourists. Tom, a proud Londoner, had been to many of them, and they happily discussed the more interesting locations. She seemed impressed that he had read books by most of the authors they discussed and was quite ready with a line or two from memory. In turn, Tom loved how expressive she became when describing the joy people experienced finding themselves walking in the footsteps of their favorite fictional characters.

By the time Leia announced that she and Lulu needed to head home, (Tom thought he detected regret in her voice) he was surprised to realize that they had been talking for almost two hours. It was the most pleasant afternoon he had passed in some time.

After that, Tom and Bobby spent every afternoon in the park. At first, they managed to “stumble” upon their companions most days. The days they did not were frustrating for both of them and usually ended with them barking at each other. After a few run-ins with Leia and Lulu however, Tom took the plunge and asked if they would like to make their daily meetups official. Leia seemed pleased, but with the caveat that some days she did need to stay home and write when she was struck by the rare inspiration. Tom deflated momentarily, thinking she was looking for an out, until she offered to text him an let him know if they would be absent. He happily gave her his cell phone number and took hers in return, letting her know that she should feel free to text anytime and then feeling like an idiot the minute the words left his mouth.

Over the next two weeks they met all but three days – two because of her writing and one when the skies once more conspired to thwart him. Their conversations ranged from literature to films to favorite places to travel. Leia sometimes teased him about his obvious upper class life style, jetting about to Viet Nam, Hawaii, Australia… but that was the closest his celebrity status ever came to being brought up. He would occasionally feel a stab of guilt over keeping that part of himself from her, it felt dishonest to lie by omission, but he was enjoying being just Tom, and didn’t want to spoil it.

Tom started taking more care in his appearance as the days went on. Gone were the torn running shorts and frayed t-shirts, and in their place were his slim fitting dark jeans and more presentable tops. If those tops also stretched a bit tight across his chest to better show off his muscles, well, he had worked hard enough to achieve them! He made some attempt to style his untamable locks as well, experimenting with different products until he found something that made the curls less crunchy. If he was remembering Leia’s off hand comment about how she liked his natural curls no one else needed to know that.

On the one month anniversary of meeting them in the park, Tom paced nervously back and forth near their favorite bench as he waited for them to arrive. He had a proposition for Leia and hoped desperately that she would say yes. When Bobby started frisking about he knew that he would see her walking Lulu, and spun around to see her come towards them.

“Sorry I’m late!” she smiled with her eyes. “This one managed to hide my house keys, and it took half an hour to track them down to her stash under the sofa.”

Lulu looked unrepentant as she pranced around Bobby, and Tom chuckled good naturedly. He gestured to the bench and sat after Leia, leaning back and stretching out his legs.

“No worries, honestly,” he assured her. “I am just delighted you are here now.”

“You are the perfect gentleman.”

“All lies, I assure you,” he waited for a moment, wanting to sound casual, and then launched into it unable to delay any longer. “I was wondering… The park is lovely, of course, but I thought it might be nice – for Lulu and Bobby – if they had a bit more freedom to run about. Lulu being afraid of the dog run, she has no opportunity to be off leash, and that can’t be too fun for our furry companions.”

“They seem to be having a good time to me,” Leia laughed, looking at where the dogs were investigating a small pile of leaves by the side of the trail. “But what did you have in mind?”

“Well, you see, our house has an enclosed back yard. Not huge, mind you, but large enough they would be able to chase to their hearts content without fearing larger beasts. I thought that perhaps you and Lulu might want to come over this Friday evening for dinner. There’s a testing sight not far from here. We could each get swabbed to make sure we are uncontagious. My bubble is only my Mum and Bobbers, and from what you’ve told me yours isn’t much bigger. It should be reasonably safe for you to come. I could make us dinner, and we could eat outside. If you would be comfortable with it, that is.”

He tried to look calm, but inside Tom was a riot of nerves as he waited for her answer. Leia’s brow crinkled in thought, and she glanced again to where the dogs were once more hopping back  and forth across the path.

“I can’t do Friday,” she told him, and his heart fell.

“Oh, alright then. It was just an idea.”

“Friday is my virtual book club,” she went on, talking over him. “Would Saturday work?”

“Saturday would be perfect!” he beamed.

“Great! I’ll go to the clinic for a test tomorrow then. Would you like me to bring anything?”

“Just Lulu and a healthy appetite.”

“Excellent! Now what do you say we walk over to the little waterfall?”

Tom practically floated through the rest of their walk. He had enjoyed getting to know her so much, but he wanted to spend more than an hour or two at a time with her. Dinner would give them a chance to really relax. Plus, he was dying to see her mouth. After a month of imagining her smile he wanted to know if what he had in his mind was anywhere close to reality. She would see his full face too, but if she hadn’t recognized him by now it was doubtful she would from the lower half of his face.

His confidence dipped a bit when they returned home. Looking around, Tom began to panic. Between photos of him in his full Loki regalia to a group picture with the cast of Skull island, there were far too many give aways of his fame. She might not recognize him, but you would have to like on another planet not to know who Sam Jackson was!

Tom spent the next few days rearranging his home. His awards, normally discreetly placed in a cabinet in his living room on the insistence of his mother, were moved to a back shelf in his office closet. The set photos from a decade plus of filming were shoved under his bed and various pieces of memorabilia were secreted away in the spare bedroom. By the time he was done his guilt had increased but he was fairly confident that all trace of his career had been tucked away safely.

“Well, Bobbers, let’s hope we don’t blow this,” he sighed, adjusting the bandana he had bought to go around the dog’s neck. Bobby whined slightly and Tom grinned. “None of that, you want to look good for your date. She has a fondness for clothing, after all.”

Bobby gave him a look that said he clearly knew Lulu was not the one Tom was trying to impress with his new fashion statement, but Tom cheerfully ignored it. Tonight was going to be a wonderful night.

[sm-baby]

Hearts Basket

Yeah I said before that I was gonna write concepts instead of drawing them, because I will have a mental break down trying to make a comic that big. I am writing fanfiction, I am reaching peak 13 yr old girl rn mom would be so proud..

I barely edited this, but I needed to get an idea out of my head or I will actually shrivel up like spaghetti

This is horrible and I love it. I do not take criticism, I will eat ur lungs and cry

💕🤍~~~~~ 【Ok here we go】 ~~~~~🤍💕

It was noon outside the regular spruce cabin. One close enough to have very few steps towards the village, but not close enough to be part of it. Alex and Steve had made themselves known there. They've been considered heroes time and time again and were likely the villagers' favorite people.

They were not home that particular day, though. Instead, they left their house-sitting to their dearest, eldritch, friend.

Of course, the two of them went on a date today of all days. It was Hearts day for Pete's sake... The three of them personally have never heard of it. They learned it from the villagers. It was a day in which they spend it with a romantic interest, or friends, or family, or whatever. Herobrine wasn't one to care. He was just happy that he got to spend the day by himself now that the house was empty.

Hero was sat at a floor table in his room. Setting up a kit of tools that included shears varying in different sizes. And on the table? A healthy bush. Ready to be stripped off its leaves to make a much more majestic shape. Or at least, a shape that our friend felt like making.

Hero picked up the hobby as he found it relaxing whenever he did it. He first found this out when he was angry and ravaged an entire forest from its twigs and leaves. Of course, the Ex-God learned to use the hobby in a much more calm matter, but sometimes he finds himself caught in the snipping that he ends up shaving the whole bush.

This does not stop him from leaf genocide every once in a while.

Just when he was ready to snip off a couple of leaves, he heard a knock at the door. A rather brash and frantic one, but he knew it wasn't a panicky one. He knew very well what those sound like. It still threw him off guard, however. He did not want a visitor today when he'd much rather spend it on his own. He groaned, putting down his shears and hands onto the table.

"Aleeeex, Steeeve! Doooor!" Hero yelled. The visitor knocked once again, caused him to call out to the two blockheads once more. Although, the lack of response had him remembering what day it was today. Perhaps the sweet silence of the house made him lose track of...everything, for a few minutes.The knock comes back once more. He groaned and stood up from the warm position of his chabudai.

"What! What do you want!" he exclaimed as soon as he opened the door.

"Oh!" She hummed. "You must be the infamous Hero in the village!"

What stood in front of him was a Villager. Rather lady-like and is much short compared to a Villager's average height. He was a little surprised. He didn't expect such...loud... knocks to come from such a. Person.

He noticed that she had a rather large basket around her arm. It was filled with gift bags and, as he'd assume, chocolates. He was impressed. He knew that Alex and Steve were loved but that was just getting ridiculous.

"I-- came to deliver you these."

"Nah, you got the wrong person." Hero rubbed his eyes "Steve is out on an adventure today. Both he and Alex are. i'm just his weird brother."

She took a moment to respond and tilted her head. "I know."

The cryptid paused mid-eye rub. He hasn't fully processed what she had said. But he knew it was out of the ordinary. He put his hand down and looked back at her.

"Wh..." he gave her a look, eyes squinted. Puzzled. "Say that again?".

"I know? As I said, You are the infamous Hero in the village, aren't you?" The villager chuckled, confused. "The village pitched in, and a lot of us decided to-- well... we noticed that you were sort of having trouble so we wanted to show you support. And.." She pulled the basket from her arm and presented it to him.

"You- I- let me get this straight. Some of these," he pointed "are for me."

"No, No, No. You misunderstood! All of these are for you."

By the name of Notch, if Herobrine wasn't confused then, he must be now! His little cryptid brain is barely processing the information in his head. He was not expecting anything to happen today.

The Lady villager noticed the look on his face, she backed up a little. She looked almost concerned.

"Oh god. is this overwhelming you?"

"YEAH, A LITTLE BIT!" he exhaled, almost like he was holding his breath until she asked. His voice was frantic. But not in a bad way. He sounded confused. Almost flushed. But confused! He doesn't know how to handle such a weird situation!

"Are these--- do you want these back?? Do I have to pay for them???"

"Hell no! You don't owe us a single ingot!" The Lady reassured. "These gifts are for you and you alone. Whatever you choose to do with them is your decision." Although his face still looked terrified, she can tell that it was just at least a little bit calmer. She thinks. it was kind of hard to read someone with no eyes.

The villager turned to leave but quickly stopped in her tracks. "Oh! Sorry I was too busy collecting these that I forgot to put in my own! Let me just.." She slipped out a box from under her sleeve and added it at the top of the pile. "Well, well, then..! I'll see you around! hopefully these will make do" She turned and started walking off. Waving in a less than graceful manner. "Have a lovely heart's day!" He didn't know how to react. He just blinked and watched The Villager walk off. Once she was far enough he went back in and closed the door.

"H...Alright. Thanks. I--Appreciate it. Tell the others that I'm grateful or something. I don't know, make me sound not stupid."

"I'll try my best, good sir."

The villager passed it on to him. It was pleasantly light, but he found himself getting a little more flushed now that he has it in his hands. He can't help but stare at it.

Looking down at the basket, he leaned his back on the spruce. Hand on his head, where does he even begin to process all of this weird show of support. A lot of it was a bunch of gifts. Either letters, chocolates, and simple presents. Attached were name tags of people he hadn't known, so as he'd assume they must be names of the villagers who sent them. He felt his face scrunch up, absolutely disgusted about the fact that he could feel himself getting flustered. Gross.

He turned to the box on top of the pile. It was that lady villager's gift which she'd forgotten to add on. He tilted his head and squinted his eyes. It was presumably a box of chocolates. Attached was a little letter with a name tag on the side.

"Shermy."

[fandom-puff]

Involved

Pairing: no pairing  Requested by:  anon Prompts: // Summary: Being the littlest sister is often the best thing in the world. But sometimes, YN Shelby wants nothing more than to be involved with her older siblings... AN: Okay, so this is only my second shelby sister fic, so it might not be brilliant. If you’re looking for amazing shelby sis fics, I’d definitely recommend @theshelbyclan​ <3 Also, Finn is about 13/14 in this, and the reader is about 7/8. as usual, gif creds to owner Warnings: swearing, violence 

Being the baby of the family was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, your brothers and sister doted on you, often slipping you sweets and lollies when Pol said you couldn’t have them. They were fiercely protective of you, and no one could make Tommy, Arthur and John smile and laugh like you could. You loved when Arthur would let you sit on his shoulders (especially good when they took you to fairs, as you were too short to see over the crowds), when Tommy sat and read to you, when John played chase. 

But lately, all they spoke about was business and men with strange names like Solomons and Sabini. Even Finn, who was closest to you in age, was starting to spend more time with the older brothers and less time with you. 

“Tommy?” you asked across the table as you munched on your toast. Tommy didn’t look up from his stack of paperwork. You frowned. “Tommy?” you said a little louder. 

“What, YN?” he said, a sharp edge in his voice that he never used with you (even when you had accidentally used a very important document to draw on). Your lower lip wobbled slightly and you ran off, your chair toppling over. Tommy rolled his eyes. He really had no time for your tantrums, not today at least. 

You carried on running until you reached John’s house. You knocked on the door. “YN, what’s up, love?” John asked, although he seemed very distracted. 

“Please can I play with Katie, John?” you asked. John smiled sadly and ruffled your hair. 

“Afraid not, YNN,” he said gently. “She wasn’t feeling very well last night. She’s stuck in bed today. I thought Tom was looking after you,” 

“He was. But he’s doing business. I got bored and was gonna ask if I could go and play, but he snapped at me before I could ask so I just thought I would leave him alone while he’s busy, ‘cos I don’t want him to be cross with me,” you looked at your feet. Although Tommy snapping and doing business was nothing new, John could see that it had upset you. 

“Go home, YN,” he said softly, squatting down until you were eye level. “Katie will be better in a day or two, I’ll send her down to play when she is, alright? In the meantime, Finn will be back soon. Maybe you could convince him and Isaiah to get up to mischief, eh?” 

Feeling a little better, you nodded, throwing your arms around John’s neck briefly. “Okay! See you in a bit, John. Tell Katie I said to get better quick!” you tore off into a sprint back home, excited by the prospect of hanging around with Finn and Isaiah. John shook his head fondly and went back inside. 

You burst through the front door, calling for Finn. He poked his head round the kitchen door and grinned at you. “C’mon, YN,” he grinned, dragging Isaiah behind him. “Let’s go somewhere fun, away from that grump in there,” he murmured the last bit so Tommy wouldn’t hear him. 

You were more than happy to follow along, eager to not be on the receiving end of tommy’s temper. You chattered happily to the boys (and learned a new swear word from them which you had to promise not to repeat in front of aunt pol) as you sauntered to the old warehouse which had been converted to a boxing ring. You hung away from the door, shuffling your feet slightly. “Tommy says I’m not allowed to go boxing,” you told them. 

“Tommy ain’t here though, YN,” Isaiah said, nudging your shoulder. 

“Yeah. I’m in charge of you, and I say it’s okay,” Finn said, puffing his chest out importantly. You giggled and nodded. 

“Alright then,” you said, grinning. 

You let them take you in. A few people murmured about the presence of a little girl in this predominantly male run backstreet boxing ring, but soon shut up when they saw that you were a Shelby. You sat at the edge of the ring as Finn and Isaiah began boxing with eachother. They let you play as the referee, purposefully making cheap shots to get told off, trying not to burst out laughing at the sound of your firm, yet higher pitched voice as you tried to do your best Aunt Polly impression. 

There was a sudden commotion at the other side of the warehouse, and everyone froze. 

“He’s lost it again!” you heard someone shout out, and you frowned, looking between Finn and Isaiah as they exchanged worried looks. 

“Arthur, pack it in! Arthur! Get off him!” 

you gasped, knowing in your gut that they were talking about your big brother. While you didn’t really understand what your brothers did for a living, you often saw the end results, asking questions about the black eyes and cuts they had on their faces. 

“Get her home, Shelby. She don’t need to see this,” one man said to Finn and he nodded. 

“Er... come on, YN... we’ll stop by the bakery on the way back,” Finn said, though you noticed the wobble in his voice. As you were walked away, you turned to see Arthur, his trembling hands stained red, a glazed look in his eyes as the boy’s body was dragged away. 

***

“Tommy, Arthur’s lost it again, down the warehouse!” Finn called as you slipped into the house. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Tommy groaned. “I swear to god, Finn, if I find out you’ve taken YN to that fucking boxing ring again, I’ll skin you,” 

The door slammed shut and your lip wobbled. “What’s this about YN going to the boxing ring?” came the sharp voice of Polly. You tucked your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them. “Finn Shelby, if you’ve let your little sister box with you lot-” you wrapped your arms around Polly’s waist, hiding your face. She soon felt tears soaking through her blouse and sighed softly, stroking your hair. “What’s happened, love?” she said soothingly. “Aunt Pol’s listening,” 

You looked up at her and bit your lip slightly. “I-I wanted to go and play with Katie so Tommy wouldn’t be cross at me while he was working, but John said she wasn’t well, so I came home, and- and Finn and isaiah said we could go to the boxing ring ‘cos Finn was in charge not Tommy, and I just wanted to play referees with them b-but...” a fresh load of tears rolled down your cheeks. “But... but then everyone started shouting, saying Arthur had lost it again, a-and when we were leaving, I saw him... but he didn’t look like arthur, Aunt Pol,” You shook your head as if trying to shake away the memory. “His eyes were weird and... and he was all bloody,” 

Polly said nothing, instead drawing you into her chest and letting you cry, stroking your hair and rubbing your back. Once you had calmed down, she held you at arms length. “Sometimes, YN, the boys get very upset, and very angry about what happened to them in France. They can’t help it. It creeps up on them when they least expect it. But you mustn’t be frightened of it, alright? They are still your brothers and they all love you very dearly, d’you understand me?” 

You nodded quickly. “I’m not scared, Aunt Pol. Not even of Tommy when he’s cross with me. Not even of Arthur when he’s cross with himself,” you said. Polly smiled slightly and kissed you on the forehead. 

“Good girl, c’mon, put your cardigan on. You can come to the market with me while the boys sort themselves out,” 

*** 

That night, when everyone had gone to sleep, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. You should’ve been asleep ages ago, but you didn’t care. Silent as a mouse, you crept out of the room that you used to share with Ada before she went to London, careful not to tread on the squeaky floorboards. You stopped outside your oldest brother’s bedroom and eased the door open so it didn’t creak and startle him. 

Arthur wasn’t asleep either. his back was to you, but you could see his shoulders shaking slightly as he cried, his fist shoved in his mouth to keep quiet. “Arthur?” you whispered. He turned around, shoving the tears off his face. 

“YN, what’re you doing out of bed, eh? It’s a bit late,” he said. You walked over to him and clambered into his bed despite him saying he was okay. “You’re not frightened of me, YN? You... you saw what happened today, love, didn’t you? Why aren’t you scared?” 

you snuggled into his side and squeezed his hand. “’Cos you’re my big brother, Arthur, that’s why,” you whispered, though your voice had a no-nonsense tone to it. “You’re my big brother and I love you and even if you really tried, not even you or Tommy could scare me, not ever,” you insisted and Arthur’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hugging you. 

“You’re a stubborn girl, our YN,” he said fondly. “You’re gonna give us all a run for our money when you’re older,” 

You smiled, glad you had made him feel better. “C’mon. You need to go to sleep, otherwise Aunt Polly will tell us off. She’s the only one who can scare me, Arthur, but only when I’m in trouble,” 

Arthur laughed and you shushed him, settling down to sleep (and totally hogging most of the blankets. perks of being the little sister). “Alright, alright, I’ll go to sleep before aunt pol shouts at a grown man that it’s past his bedtime,” 

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[mnictasbcl]

Still immortal, Connor?

Next story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife‘s #dbhghostsinthemachine challenge! Prompt OCT 5: Immortal.

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Tags: Temporary character death, Denial, Existential crisis, self-destruction, hurt/comfort, violence, swearing, guilt, panic

Warnings: Temporary character death (i.e. Connor)

Summary: Two months after the Revolution, after Connor finally deviated… he dies.

The next morning he wakes up in a new body.

 Read it on AO3! Or, read below....

Chasing the suspect, a whir of thoughts and preconstructions, taking into account the unpredictability of a human who’d just committed murder in broad daylight—facts and figures, numbers blurred, risks and percentages—all overlayed by the mission to capture the suspect. Or else risking even more lives.

One risk taken, he noticed too late. Hank had always demanded he stay on the safe or balanced path, but here he was, sliding down a rooftop. Tried to time his jump, but his limbs faltered, thirium pump catching in his throat as he saw the great drop—

 To a sickening crunch onto the cement.

     He didn’t think androids dreamed. But when he came to… it wasn’t real. He’d died, his memory banks proved so with the last recorded moments of his processor’s consciousness. So why could he see? See above him the white and blinding light, feel the cold metal of an examination table…

It had to be a dream.

But someone came over to him, an android, a medic at Jericho, and they smiled to see him. He held his hand out towards them and they pushed it back down. It felt so tangible, so real…

It had to be a nightmare.

Something clicked in his head, auditory processors roaring to life. Life.

This wasn’t life.

This wasn’t real.

“…how are you feeling?”

He looked at the medic, before pushing himself up on the table.

“I’m supposed to be dead.”

They laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yeah, you were… luckily…”

“Then where am I? Do androids really have a heaven- or hell? What is this?”

“It’s alright, this is probably a shock for you. But if you’ll just…”

Connor looked away from them, and then something glinting met his gaze. The reflective surface of a tray by his bedside. He snatched it, sending the glass of thirium that had sat atop it flying.

He stared into his reflection and screamed.

  …………………………………………………………………………

  When Hank arrived at Jericho, Connor was still sedated.

“We couldn’t keep him awake, he was screaming himself hoarse, starting to lash out, tearing at his skin,” the android described to him—Paul, his nametag read, “Markus suggested we phoned you.”

Hank nodded, stepping to the side as Paul opened the curtain. “He was right. I would’ve been there when Con was waking up, but… I’d just seen him die, you know?”

“That’s understandable. And I believe his reaction… we think it might be associated with some sort of loss, grieving over his body.”

“Yeah. Or maybe it’s ‘cause he could do this before.”

“Pardon?”

“He’s died before. Cyberlife just shipped his brain out in a new body every time. I thought once the whole deviating thing happened, he might stop dying… but he’s too damn reckless.”

Typing out something on the keyboard beside Connor’s cot, Paul nodded. “I see. Maybe it’s associated with a past trauma.” With a click of a key, he turned back to Hank. “Either way, I’ve started the process of letting him wake back up. But if he starts panicking again, I’ll be nearby.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The curtain swished shut. Hank watched as Connor’s LED spun hazy colours, the start of his wake-up sequence. God, he didn’t think he’d see that again. See him again. He’d died. Dead, crushed on the concrete, blue blood splattered on the—

He slapped himself. Thinking like that wouldn’t help Connor. Who was struggling too, evidently.

Yeah, it was freaky, downright horrifying to see him placed into another body again. But it was still Connor. Still the same loveable android who spoiled Sumo something silly.

The same android who he’d have to drill some self-preservation skills into, apparently.

 He was pulled out of his thoughts by a groan. It was Connor, exactly the same voice—yeah, he guessed he was glad they’d managed to salvage some Connor models from Cyberlife after it’d been signed over to the androids at Jericho. Would’ve been even freakier if he’d been someone else.

But as soon as he came too, his LED snapped out of its brief lapse into calm blue, flaring up red. His eyes landed on Hank and he jumped back on the cot, tumbling off the side and onto the floor.

“Hey, hey, Connor—”

“Get away from me!”

Hank stopped, standing still where he was. “Alright, alright, I’m not coming any closer. But that means you’ve got to stay where you are too.”

Connor complied, half-laying on the floor, hands jittering at his sides.

“And it also means you need to calm down. Unhelpful advice, I know, but you’ve got to do it for your sake. Deep breaths, yeah? I know you androids don’t fucking need them but it’s a self-soothing sort of thing…” He exaggerated his breaths, slowly in and out, starting Connor in the eye until he looked like he was attempting to copy.

“Now, the helpful guy before—Paul, I think—he said you might be a bit confused. Scared. Cause they had to put you in a new body and…”

Progress was undone. Connor got up, stumbled backwards into a table, sending metal tools scattering across the floor.

“I knew it. I knew they’d done it again—Cyberlife—”

“Hey, not Cyberlife. Jericho.”

“No. Because androids don’t live forever, Hank, they die. Because androids are alive now. But I cheated death! I’m… not alive.”

“Bullshit. You think, what, they’re just gonna let androids die with all the technology they’ve got these days? If Markus got injured, you think they’d just go, oh well, that’s that, he’s dead? No fucking way. They’d find a solution, and sure as hell would take the opportunity if they had handy copies laying around of him—”

“Copies, Hank. I’m just a copy! I’m not…” he brought his arms around himself, making motions over his chest. “I’m not… each time a Connor model is uploaded and replaced; it loses fragments of its memory.”

“So, what, you forgot that shitty soap we watched the other day?”

“You don’t understand! I’m not a deviant anymore!”

Hank froze. “You… no, look at you right now! Emotion, right there, you’re showing it alright. Deviants don’t do that.”

“The… the wall is gone, but she’s still there.”

“Huh?”

“Amanda. She’s still in my head, I haven’t destroyed her yet. She’s going to take control and—”

“Oh, the Zen Garden? Con, that’s not in your body. It was up here,” he tapped his head, “and you kicked her out. Now it’s filled with… I don’t know, dog hair, ‘cause that shit gets everywhere.”

Connor stifled a wet chuckle, bringing a hand to trace over his face. Tears were leaking down his cheeks. “Oh. But I… this…”

Hank looked at him, hand reaching out in an invitation to move forwards. When Connor let him, he stepped tentatively closer, before enveloping him in a warm embrace. “I know, son, it’s different. It’s still you, but it’s different. I’d be freaked out if I was in a different body too. But this isn’t like before, when you did stupid shit and turned up the next day as if nothing happened. You were trying to save lives, you fucked up. But I’ll help you make sure that never happens again.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Better not. Scared the living hell out of me. Now… how about we go thank that Paul guy, then get you back home? Sumo hasn’t seen you in a day and I think he might send out a canine search party if I don’t bring you to him.”

This time Connor fully laughed; LED circling yellow. “Okay, Hank.” Collected his belongings, draping his jacket over his shoulder. Just as the Lieutenant neared the curtain to draw it open, he said softly, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem, kid.”

[chuckbass-love]

Can I request reader and Henry Cavill, reader is decides to hide the fact she’s hurt herself while working out with him and when he comes back from being on set all day he finds her unable to move, she was scared to say what happen from a past experience with an ex🙏🏼 P.S: this happen to me a couple of years ago

 Hi love, first of all, i know you got my messages but just want to say again, i’m sorry this happened to you and i hope this can put a smile on your face as no one deserves to feel shitty or sad. Plus it’s Henry and i love him so i’m glad you picked him for this. Enjoy...

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warning: slight angst but mostly fluff.

Word Count: 1,767

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @supersweetstache go check them out 🥰

Nothing Like Your Last

You take a seat next to Henry, holding up his phone to film as he continues to work out, sweat glazing his forehead. 

He turns his head to look and smile at you, earning a giggle from you as he does so. One thing you’ve not necessarily noticed yourself but others have, the way he looks at you. Henry’s brothers say it’s that smitten look. The look of love. But you’ve not said those words yet so you always wave them off when they tease you.

You feel it though, love. Whenever you’re around him, it’s like nothing else matters or exists.

“You coming to join now?” he asks, standing up and putting the weights down, you smile and walk over, placing his phone on the side. Kal nudges at your leg, whining until you kneel down to give him fuss “such a good boy” you talk in a baby like voice to him, as if he’s going to talk back. Instead he just barks, his way of agreeing you guess.

You lie down on the floor in a sit up position, Henry puts some weight on your feet so you can properly execute a good 10 without flailing all over the place.

“So i was thinking we could chill tonight. Chinese takeaway, lord of the rings and all that” 

One of the many things you adore about Henry is his geeky side. He loves gaming and lord of the rings and it’s the cutest thing when he get’s excited about them.

“I’d love that”

With the 10 sit ups completed, he then sits down so you can help him do his own, obviously more than 10 but you only workout to keep fit. Whereas he does it because of filming and to bulk up.

Suddenly, you hear the phone ring in the other room “you gonna be okay here for a couple minutes?” he asks, resting his hand on your arm in a protective manor, waiting for you to give the go ahead. Which you do. He rushes out to go answer and you carry on.

You do some Russian twists, some push ups and a plank. All of your usual work out exercises. 

Just as you’re doing the last couple of Russian twists, you feel a huge shooting pain up your side. You wince and feel tears brimming but as soon as you hear Henry’s footsteps, you stand up and shake it off. 

“Shall we warm down and then shower?” you ask and he nods, you try to get through it without him noticing, thankfully he doesn’t.

Once you finish, you both head for the shower. He starts kissing you and being overly affectionate.

He’s away all day tomorrow filming so you won’t see him until really late, so he’s probably just making it up to you now. By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, he’ll be gone.

You shove on one of his rugby shirts, some knee high socks and panties before joining him in the kitchen for dinner. He ordered a Chinese as soon as you got out of the shower.

“Something smells good” the smell brings a huge grin to your face. Well, that and Henry standing there laying the table. 

It’s times like these where you picture a future with him, where every night is like this eventually and that thought fills your heart with the biggest amount of happiness.

You sit down, eating away as he tells you about how filming has been going for The Witcher season 2, hearing him talk about something he’s very passionate about is just another thing that makes you fall more. 

“So what time are you off out tomorrow?” you ask, shoving some chow mein into your mouth, not even caring how un lady like you look. Henry never complains so surely he doesn’t mind.

“I have to get up around 6 and i’ll be back around the 8 in the evening” you just continue to eat, humming in response “It’s just a couple of scenes tomorrow but the makeup and hair is a nightmare to get on and off but don’t worry, as soon as i get home. We have a couple of days to relax. Just me and you” he stands up to collect the plates and put them into the dishwasher, kissing your forehead as he walks past. 

The rest of the night is spent with cuddles, making out and a whole lot of laughs. 

Which is not unusual, you always find yourself laughing a lot with him, he knows exactly what to say and do to keep you feeling good and you’re the same with him.

You’re gonna find it hard to be away from him tomorrow but it’s just one full day right? It won’t be long until he’s back in your arms.

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

As you get out of bed and head to the kitchen for some breakfast, you spy a note on the counter. 

‘Good morning baby,

Obviously i had to leave early 

But i cannot wait to get back to you tonight

Lots of love

H x’

You smile at the note, your tummy full of butterflies as you go about making some breakfast and tea for yourself before settling down in front of the tv.

If there’s one thing to be said about Henry being away it’s that you can watch shows like Love Island and Dance Moms. He tried to get into them but failed. So you watch whenever he’s away. 

You finish with eating and stand up to go clean your mess up but when you reach up to the shelf for dishwasher stuff, a shooting pain rushes through your side. Making you wince like you did yesterday after hurting yourself during the workout. 

You never told Henry about it because you were embarrassed and worried that he’d laugh.

The memories of your last relationship come flooding in despite your best efforts to prevent it.

“Get up for god’s sake”

“I can’t, it hurts, i can’t move it” you protest, trying to defend yourself against his venomous words.

“I’m sure you do this on purpose you know, injure yourself to get out of housework”

You don’t, you’d never do that. 

You hurt yourself on a run with your friend Jules, but he doesn’t care about that right. He just cares that the dusting hasn’t been done, neither has the washing up.

“I’ll just put some ice on it for a couple hours, i should be fine soon”

“No, the dishes have been sitting there all day whilst i’ve been at work and you really think i’m gonna do them. I’ve had a stressful day as it is, don’t need you making it worse” 

“Okay, i’m coming. I’m sorry” you use the arm of the sofa to get up before you begin to limp and hop to the kitchen, ready to finish the housework.

He’s right. The last thing he needs is you making things more hectic for him. 

You soon wipe the tears that you didn’t even realise were falling from your eyes and go about sorting this pain in your side.

You rummage through the draws and cupboards, searching for any form of painkiller. As you pull open the last drawer, there they are. Paracetamol. 

You take 2 immediately and pray that it’ll magically go away soon or better yet, that it’ll go before Henry returns.

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

 “Honey, i’m home” he calls out before appearing in the doorway, a huge cheshire cat like grin plastering his face.

“I’ve missed you” you run up to him, he squeezes you tight, bringing the pain on again. 

“Ahhh” you whimper, clutching at your side like it’ll somehow bring the pain to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” he pulls away from you, lifting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. 

“It’s noth-”

“Come on, it’s clearly something” he walks you over to the sofa, sitting the two of you down and you lift your shirt up to point to your side.

“I think i pulled something yesterday during our workout” your voice laced with shame.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you shrug, but before you can even look away from him, his index fingers keeps your head in place, keeping your eyes on his.

“I don’t know. I guess i was just embarrassed”

“But why? I don’t get it”

“It’s just my ex used to pick on me whenever there was a slight sign of weakness. He’d make me feel like i was a dead weight, useless. He’d even go as far as to make it harder for me to heal and i just i don’t kn-”

“Hold on. Baby, you should know by now that i would never do any of that. You mean the world to me, if you’re hurt i want you to be able to tell me. Maybe that was his style but it’s certainly not mine”

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to assume the worst of you but i-” he cuts you off again.

“Don’t apologise. It’s my job now to prove to you that i’m nothing like your last, i’m always here to take care of you, make you feel good about yourself and this is one of those times where i need to take care of you. Let me go and get some ice for it. Wait here” he makes his way into the kitchen. 

You hear the freezer door open, along with the draws until a simple “there they are” comes from the kitchen, you giggle and seconds later, he re appears. 

He helps you lie down, placing the ice to your ribs area and handing you some more pain killers.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes, lowering his head to kiss your lips.

“Thank you” you mumble

“Don’t thank me. It’s my job to take care of you. If i plan to love you forever, then i might as well start as i mean to go on” your heart skips a beat as he says it.

That word.

Love.

“You love me?” 

You see his cheeks turn a little red, he looks down, chuckling.

“I do, but don’t worry, i won’t force you to say it-”

“I love you too”

He kisses you once again.

“Please don’t ever be scared to talk to me okay? Like i said, i love you, i want the best for you and i’m not here to hurt or upset you”

“What did i do to deserve you eh?” you both smile, forehead to forehead.

“I was about to say the same thing. But I guess we both got lucky”

“I guess we did”

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

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If you want to be added to my Henry Tag List, drop a comment, an ask of or a message and i’ll add you. Thank you

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲

Pairing ➺ Spencer Reid x SSA!Reader

Warning ➺ None really, just flashbacks to episodes from season 7 

Word Count ➺  6,408

Summary ➺  When the Reader needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Spencer volunteers to be her date.

A/N ➺ Please enjoy! Maybe I’ll do a part two, who knows! But the bold text are the readers thoughts (:

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine@spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland@zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker@jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003@kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles@peterunderoos @jessybellsworld @spider-mendes @ohbabycal​ 

@nerdgirljen​ 

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

“Shots!” 

Garcia shouted as she placed a the tray onto the table of the booth, it had been one hell of a long week and they finally had a free night. And with a free night meant head to the local bar make it one hell of a night.

Everyone reached for a shot glass whereas Reid raised his glass of Arnold Palmer.

The bar was slightly packed, mostly by FBI agents, the sound of music plus the amount of chatter in the club brought a smile to everyone’s faces. It’s been a while since they had gone to the bar as a team.

The booth was filled with laughter, the team had been talking about anything and everything, passing around jokes about one another.

Originally it was supposed to be a girls night, but the boys had begged that they allow we allow them to join. Well Rossi and Morgan were the ones who pleaded and insisted on dragging Reid and Hotch along.

(Y/N) felt her phone vibrate causing her to bring it out of her pocket wondering who was texting her at this time.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

She groaned loudly reaching for another shot placing her phone face down on the table. Morgan raised his brows lightly noticing her sudden mood change.

“What’s up with you (Y/L/N)?”

(Y/N) leaned back into the booth drawing out a long sigh before answering “Nothing, my sister was just asking who’s my date to her wedding which is next week.” 

Rossi chuckled lightly before asking, “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

Yeah that’s the thing

There was no lucky fellow.

“Funny story..”

The team had just gotten back from Atlantic city. It was one of those cases where Hotch had given the team a long weekend off.

(Y/N) sighed lightly opening the door to her apartment kicking her boots off as she entered and locking the door behind her. Shrugging her coat off and placing it on the coat rack, she walked over to the kitchen placing the stacks of mail she had gotten before coming upstairs. 

After one hell of a week, she opened a new bottle of red wine and poured it into a glass before heading into her room for a nice hot bath.Once she was done relaxing she headed back into the kitchen, sorting through her mail till she stumbled upon a wedding invitation.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘁 (𝗬/𝗟/𝗡)

“𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴”

“𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴”

“Are you bringing a date?” (Y/N) mumbled to herself as she read the options to check off, of course only Scarlet would want to include that.

Not, number attending but are you bringing a date. Letting out a deep sigh her eyes gaze over to the pictures scattered over the fridge. (Y/N) was the second oldest of four siblings. She was the one out of four siblings to not be:

One- Married

Two-Soon to be married

and Three

Recently engaged.

Without thinking, she grabbed a pen and checked off to where we are now.

Morgan bursted into a fit of laugher before saying in between breathes “So, what I’m hearing is you don’t have a date?”

She glared at Morgan sticking her tongue out at him like a five year old child. It was already bad enough that every time she goes home to visit her family will ask: “Found anyone special?”

“Yeah, I don’t.”

It was a simple mistake, and well that simple mistake left her with no date. The last thing she wanted was to text her sister, “I actually have no date lmao.” because if that were to happen bridezilla would make quite the show. And she’d also never hear the end of that. Now, she has a week to find a date. That can’t be that hard right? Just who?

Morgan could barley catch his breath, (Y/N) kicked his ankle in annoyance “It’s not funny Derek! All I hear from my aunts are, oh you’ll find someone sweetie or you’re getting order you’ll find someone soon enough!” she leaned her head against the wall continuing to glare at Morgan.

“I could be your date.” Spencer spoke up trying to ease the tension that filled the booth.

Emily used her foot to nudge (Y/N) leg, she glared at the woman sitting across from her who wore an amused smile. (Y/N) glanced over at Penelope and JJ who also had the same expression on their face.

His brows furrowed, he didn’t see anything wrong with what he offered so- why was everyone staring?

“What? I-It was a suggestion.. that’s all.” His nose crinkled as he spoke pressing his lips into a thin line focusing his attention to the table in front of him.

Spencer may have an IQ of 187, and (Y/N) may be the youngest and second smartest of the team. These two are blind. Literally blind. It was quite obvious that boy wonder and miss.young and beautiful (well said from the one and only Penelope Garcia) have feelings for one another. 

If there was someone who can talk Spencer down, to get him to bring his walls down, it was (Y/N). Just a few months ago when everyone found out that Emily was in fact alive and not dead, everyone was happy that she was alive but that also came with being questioned by the Senate Committee for our retaliatory action.

But before Emily had came back everyone was dealing with her death differently.

There are five stages of grief:

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

With those five stages, everyone deals with their emotions differently. (Y/N) and Garcia did as much as they could to honor Emily’s name. Whereas Morgan felt guilty, telling himself he if he were there a second early he could’ve saved her. Spencer took it the hardest, he had gone to JJ’s house crying for almost 10 weeks.

Now with Emily back, the team felt back to normal. Well, some what back to normal. We had been called to Oklahoma, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say Spencer was not Spencer adding into the conversation or throwing in "Did you know.. facts”

He was quiet, distant.

“It’s too late alright!”

“Reid?” Emily spoke only watching as walked away.

(Y/N) looked at Hotch before saying “I’ll go talk to him.” giving her a nod of approval she grabbed one of the car keys and headed out towards Spencer.

Running out she watched as he continued to walk away, “Spencer!” she shouted yet no response.

“Spencer Walter Reid!”

Nothing

“Reid!”

The nearly 6’1 genius continued to walk away ignoring your calls. 

“Hey loverboy! I am talking to you! You know I don’t like being ignored!”

Spencer stopped in his tracks throwing his head back lightly “I don’t want to talk.” he spoke without turning around.

The heels of her boots clicked against the sidewalk once she was next to him she linked her arm with his pulling him towards one of the SUVS.

“Who said I wanted to talk? What if I wanted to get some coffee.”

Luckily there was a coffee shop that was a few blocks down the road, the car ride was silent- comfortable silence. (Y/N) never pushed Spencer to talk, she waited patiently for him to bring it up on his own.

In which, he did.

“I cried.. for ten weeks (Y/N).. ten weeks back to back.”

His voice barley above a whisper.

(Y/N) brought her right hand forward taking ahold of his left giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Spencer, Hotch and JJ kept Emily safe. The less people knew that Emily was alive, the better because Doyle was still out there. If he found out Emily was still alive, he would’ve gone after not only Emily but the rest of the team as well. Trust me, it’s odd to have Emily back I mean we ‘buried’ her for christ sakes. But she’s here, with us again. Not six feet. under. I can’t speak for JJ but, I know she never meant to intentionally hurt your feelings or make you feel vulnerable. We were bound to find out sooner or later Spence.”

Truth be told, (Y/N) hated seeing Spencer sad and angry. Something she never saw all that often but knew him being sad made her feel sad.

They had spent an hour an a half in the coffee shop, now they were walking back into the station. Slowly Spencer had opened up more, she let him go uninterrupted allowing him to speak as she listened.

“Thank you by the way.”

(Y/N) smiled nudging him with her elbow, “Anytime loverboy.”

-

"Look at pretty boy go!” Morgan chuckled raising his enclosed fist towards Spencer who awkwardly fist bumped him back. She watched as he pursed his lip his gaze fixed on his drink avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team and especially (Y/N).

Hotch sighed lightly glancing at his phone before giving Rossi a nod, “I better get going, I don’t want Jessica to stay too late. Have a nice weekend guys, I don’t want to see any of you at the office.” 

It was just fifteen minutes past eleven and everyone was ready to head home and call it a night. Stepping out of the nearly now packed bar greeted by the cool air of Washington D.C. They had bid their goodbyes and headed to their cars. 

All she could think about was what Spencer had said, “I could be your date.” I mean, there is no problem with him being her date right? Beside the fact that you have a huge fat third grade crush on boy genius. 

Once she got home she kicked off her boots padding over to the kitchen for a glass of water placing her belongings on her couch. A loud ding echoed throughout her apartment, it may be her sister again wondering who her date is.

Grabbing her phone out of her purse the notification flashed across the screen:

A message from Scarlet. Swiping her thumb across the screen unlocking her phone to read the message.

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰? 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦?

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸.

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭?

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰?

𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦.

𝘗𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦!

“Love you too whore.” (Y/N) mumbled placing her phone onto the coffee table walking away to her room to get changed. Another loud ding caught her attention, “I thought she was going to sleep?” (Y/N) thought to herself.

Instead it was a message from Emily.

𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘴! 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦!!

Plopping herself onto her couch running her fingers through her hair.

He’s awake right? I mean it’s only twelve-fifteen? She held her phone in her hand tapping it lightly against her thigh contemplating whether or not to call him. 

“Just call him.” she mumbled to herself

Her family didn’t have any problems with Spencer. The one thing she’ll never forget is when he had told you father "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." The look on your fathers face was priceless.

Besides that her family had no problems with Spencer. They just describe him as being bit awkward and rambles on about well anything. It’s almost been four years since she joined the BAU. She was lucky enough to join at the age of twenty-three. And she’s been with them ever since.

When (Y/N) first joined the team Jason Gideon had just recently retired and David Rossi had returned voluntarily. You know that new kid feeling? New school, fresh faces, no friends? Yeah, that was the was her current feeling.

(Y/N) had barley gotten any sleep the night before. She felt anxious, tossing and turning the almost the entire night only to get about three hours of sleep. She had gotten up thirty minutes before her alarm, and had gotten there thirty minutes early.

Now she was currently sitting in SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office. You’ve heard many amazing things about his team, they are truly one of the best. Brushing her hands against her skirt for what felt like the hundredth time.

Pull yourself together, there’s nothing to be worried about.

“Agent (Y/L/N), would you like to meet the team?” Hotch spoke, (Y/N) turned her attention to the door giving him a nod of approval. Standing from her seat she followed him into the conference room.

“You’ll be fine.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly, “Sorry, I’m just extremely nervous.” he smiled lightly opening the door to the conference room, the only person she knew was David Rossi, the BAU wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gideon and Rossi.

“SSA (Y/L/N), this is SSA-”

“David Rossi, I’ve read your books and they are magnificent.” Rossi chuckled lightly sticking his hand out for her to shake in which (Y/N) gladly shook. She had just met one of the greatest profilers of all time.

(Y/N) looked up at Hotch before quickly apologizing “This is SSA Prentiss.” The beautiful raven haired woman smiled “Emily, nice to meet you.” moving to the man standing next to her “SSA Morgan.” he smiled shaking her hand “Derek.”

“(Y/N).” she replied.

“Our Communications Liaison Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ.”

“Our tech analysis Penelope Garcia.”

Finally, the last person whom she had grown closes too.

“And Doctor Spencer Reid.”

That was your team. And they were more welcoming than you thought they would be, they were your second family. If you guys weren’t on a case, you’d be at the bar raking up Rossi’s tab. You were able to talk to them about almost anything, if you needed time off Hotch understood.

The first year she had worked with the team, they were very welcoming. Hotch had partnered you with Spencer most of the time, either you two would check out the M.E or stay back at the police department. It was safe to say it was a bit awkward at first when you were partnered with Spencer. But, she wouldn’t have wanted to be partnered with anyone else.

“Hello?”

Shit! He’s awake. Wait, when did I call him up?

“(Y/N)?”

Say something, he knows you’re on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay?’

Are you having a stroke right now? Say something!

“H-hi, sorry to bother you so late.”

It was fifteen minutes to one, did it really take me almost thirty minutes to call him?

“It’s fine, just getting a little bit of reading in. Did you need something?”

She bit the bottom of her lip getting up from her seat on her couch, just say it! Tell him you’d love to have him as a date.

“If your offer still stands.. I’d love to have you be my date.” she paced around her living room. Please say yes, this would be totally awkward if you said no but- you did offer to be my date?

Spencer smiled widely “Yes! I-I mean of course, I mean- I’d love to accompany you.” though (Y/N) couldn’t see him she knew he had his hand covered over his eyes mentally curing at himself.

“Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow? Thank you again Spencer, I appreciate it.” 

“Y-yeah cool cool, um good night, sleep tight.. don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 

He could be such a dork sometimes. A cute dork. Rambling on until someone says something or he’d catch himself and apologize. Usually the team would exchange looks but, you’d sit there listening intently. It’s amazing that someone so young has already three PhD’s and as the genius said himself “I just keep getting PhD’s”

“Good night loverboy.”

Spencer had his nicknames, from Pretty boy, boy wonder, kid, doc etc.

Loverboy however, kinda just slipped. They had been working a case and Spencer was deep in his thoughts, she had been trying to get his attention for the last five minutes. When she had said it, he cheeks were painted a deep shade of red. Ever since then, the nickname just stuck.

(Y/N) tossed her phone onto the couch squealing loudly, surely enough she knew one of her neighbors would file a complaint against her but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the fact that Spencer Reid was her wedding date, and she couldn’t be more excited.

-

The entertainment capital of the world

Sin city

Fabulous Las Vegas.

Home to Spencer and (Y/N), the two were going to be staying with her parents since they live the closes to the venue. The drive to her parents house meant passing by her high school, and without a doubt she knew Spencer would have something to say.

“Isn’t that your old high school?” 

She glanced at Spencer for a short moment before answering, “Yup, class of 2003.”

About a month ago the team had gone to Boise,Idaho where a serial killer is murdering the survivors of a high school massacre that took place exactly ten years earlier. Hotch had sent (Y/N) and Spencer to examine the crime scene. 

“The unsub has to be tied to the school somehow. Maybe a current student, alumni, or a family member who lost someone?” (Y/N) mumbled as she scanned the crime scene 

“It could be a Slade groupie celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb. Specifically to rip open flesh-” Spencer spoke turning his head slightly to see (Y/N) examining the various pieces of nails.

“That’s a Slade detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.”

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up.A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” (Y/N) pointed out her eyes looked from the ground to the ceiling.

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tormenters in high school he can’t punish...” he examined the photos he held in his hands, “who were yours?”

(Y/N) chuckled reaching forward to touch the piece of nail in the wall, “I don’t even remember.” she mumbled.

Spencer raised his brow in confusion, “You don’t even remember?” his voice filled with disbelief. He stepped forward still stuck on the subject, “Wait, were you one of the mean girls?”

She turned around in surprise her eyes widened at his question, “What? No!” Okay maybe there were some people she was a bit rude to. That only being her  younger brother who was a freshmen when she was a senior.

“Track star with a full ride scholarship to UNR and was accepted by many universities, one of the valedictorians of her class, and the student body president? That not only screams popular but you could’ve been one of the mean girls!”

(Y/N) gasped loudly walking past Spencer to get to the other side of the room, “Could’ve been, I was actually one of the nice popular girls! I was even friends with guys like you!” 

“Guys like me? I'll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.“ now that was hard to believe.

“Spencer Reid playing basketball no way.” (Y/N) snickered causing Spencer to press his lips into a thin line, “Okay, I coached basketball. I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy.” Now that sound more like Spencer.

“Is that why Morgan kicked you out of the pool last week?“ Rossi held a BBQ last Sunday, inviting the entire team over and Spencer and Derek were going at it in the pool bickering with one another.

“Yeah. Took him three rounds to realize I was hustling him.”

(Y/N) pulled into the driveway shifting the gear into park, she turned slightly to face Spencer. “Spence.” she whispered, he turned his head in confusion. Spencer had met her family, but he was about to meet MORE of them. As much as she loved them to death, they could be a little too much.

“First off, I wanna say thank you so much for being my date. Second, my family.. they are loud and can get very.. touchy? If you feel uncomfortable in any given moment please tell me because I don’t want you to think you made a mistake by coming.” He gave her a warm smile, placing his hand over her’s.

“(Y/N/N)!” a voice shouted causing (Y/N) to jump slightly pulling her attention away from Spencer. Her mother smiled happily, she was beyond excited to hear that (Y/N) was bringing Spencer as her date. The two exited the car retrieving their luggage from the trunk. 

“Hey mom!” (Y/N) shouted as she closed the trunk watching as Spencer waved hello to her mother.

“Hi Mrs.(Y/L/N).” 

“Oh Spencer! How have you been? Come in get settled Steven and I are treating you two to dinner tonight!” She watched as her mother followed Spencer into the house, it would be an understatement if I said my mom loved Spencer.

I mean who wouldn’t?

Later that night when they had gone out to dinner they just so happened to run into one of her family members that every so gladly invited themselves to dinner. 

And the immediate question was, “So (Y/N), who’s this?” that lead to a somewhat awkward dinner. You know how everyone has that one favorite cousin? Then there was that one cousin that was a tattle-tale and much of a show off? That was the cousin that was at dinner tonight. 

“This is Doctor. Spencer Reid, he’s my partner. I-I mean the partner on my team, a-

“So what I’m hearing is you’re single?” Gwen questioned causing (Y/N) to gasp lightly watching as Spencer shifted in his seat “Um- well yeah but-” his voice had gone up a couple octaves. Drawing his hand away from the table watching as Gwen’s cheeks tinted a deep red.

“Gwen quit it, you’re making him uncomfortable!” (Y/N) snapped annoyed with her cousin’s behavior. This was the last thing she wanted Spencer to feel, uncomfortable. She didn’t want Spencer to think he made a mistake, before she could say anymore he glanced at her for a second before whispering “It’s okay.” If only she could strangle Gwen right here, right now. The table was filled with awkward silence, (Y/N) mother chuckled lightly before quickly changing the subject “So, who’s ready for tomorrow?”

-

The only thing (Y/N) always looked forward to was the reception. Her least favorite part was the ceremony where most of her family members would be asking her one too many questions. She had spent half of her morning mentally preparing herself for what’s to come today. What she was not prepared for was the suit Spencer had worn, well the velvet suit jacket to be exact. It had matched perfectly with the red dress she had worn.

Spencer sat with (Y/N) siblings watching as she chased around her niece and nephews, “I’m gonna get you!” she shouted causing her niece to squeal loudly running father away from her aunt. (Y/N) had always gotten along with kids, they’d easily adjust to her. When they had cases dealing with kids, it would either be Spencer, JJ, or (Y/N) to be the ones to talk to them.

“Remind me, the next time Garcia tries to get me to go to a shoe sale I need to say no.” (Y/N) spoke in between breaths settling next to Spencer, Wonderful tonight began to play bringing almost everyone to the dance floor. She took ahold of his hand dragging him up from his seat, “Spence we need to join them!” 

The sound of his heart beat was music to her ears, beating softly. The feeling of being so close to him, left butterflies in her stomach. It felt so, domestic? It’s not an everyday thing to dance with Spencer Reid.

“Do you see yourself having kids some day?”

(Y/N) pulled her head away from his chest looking up at him with a raised brow. That was a bit out of the blue.

“Just the way you interact with your niece and nephews, you’re good with kids. i’ve noticed that when we work on cases dealing with kids. you’re patient with them.” Spencer glanced down at her, she looks so beautiful.

(Y/N) sighed lightly before answering, “Yeah, ideally... I want to have kids by the time I’m thirty and well, I have three more years to make that happen.”

Spencer hummed at her response allowing (Y/N) to continue.

“My parents... they had told my siblings and I that I would be the first to have kids, and well-“

Her eyes gaze over to her older sister whom was the first to have kids, her beautiful niece and nephew. Seated at the same table her brother whom was recently engaged and his fiancée awaiting their first child.

And now her younger sister wouldn’t be too far behind.

“I’m not a profiler, but aren’t those two completely oblivious about their feelings for one another?” Isabelle commented watching as her sister dance with her date.

“That’s what I was thinking the entire time! The FBI should hire us, we’re good!” Cole exaggerated lifting his hand for Isabelle to high-five.

(Y/N) turned her attention away from her siblings back to look at Spencer. If only she could hear her siblings conversation.

“I’m gonna be the last to get married.” she said with a light chuckle.

There was no one to blame, i mean at this point she was married to her job and she knew the pros and cons. But there’s still time for her, time to find someone, to have kids.

“What about you doc? Do you want little geniuses?”

Spencer sighed lightly moving his right hand that was resting on her waist taking ahold of her left, spinning her around.

He held her hand for a moment swaying the two from side to side, “Of course, as much as I love being a godfather.. I wanna have kids of my own. An entire soccer team as one may say.”

That was something the two had in common, being a godparent. (Y/N) loved spoiling her goddaughter, even before she was asked to be the godmother.

(Y/N) giggled at his response, any woman would be lucky enough to have a child with Spencer. He’d make a wonderful father, he’d be ever so patient with his little boy or girl.

“Well your future wife is in for it.”

He felt a slight tug on his suit jacket, he looked down to see (Y/N) niece Lyrical, “I wanna dance.” the four year old said moreover demanded.

(Y/N) gasped lightly before letting go of Spencer’s right hand and moved to wrap her arms around him.

“No he’s mine.” she joked sticking her tug out at the four year old.

If he was standing in front of a mirror right now, he’d be as red as a tomato.

“No! My boyfriend!” Lyrical huffed wrapping her chubby arms around her chest with a pout. That was something Lyrical basically established during prior visits.

Whenever they’d have cases in Vegas the night before they leave the team goes to hangout with (Y/N) family. Her second family meeting her well family

(Y/N) drew back her arms from him as she looked between Spencer and her niece, “So- who’s it gonna be loverboy?”

Spencer hummed at her question before picking up Lyrical causing her to giggle lightly wrapping her arms around his neck swaying from side to side.

She held onto him, her fingers slightly tugged at the back of his hair. (Y/N) smiled, the warm fuzzy feeling she felt earlier was back again.

If Spencer’s first born child is a girl, she’d have him wrapped around her fingers before she was born.

She walked up to her niece peppering kisses onto her chubby cheeks earning a burst of laughter, the song changed into a more upbeat rhythm causing almost everyone to come to the dance floor.

“So, who was going to tell me they were dating?” Scarlet questioned, walking over to sit at the same table her siblings were seated. Isabelle snorted reaching for the glass of water in front of her.

“Why would we? They aren’t dating.. yet.” Cole answered sarcastically earning a slap to the back of his head. He glared at his younger sister, “I answered your question why did you have to hit me!” Scarlet shrugged lightly taking a sip from her champagne glass.

(Y/N) looked over to her siblings, who were bickering as usual.

“I’m gonna go sit for a bit.” Spencer nodded watching as she walked back to sit with her siblings before turning his attention back to the four year old.

“Woah Lyrical stole your date.” Cole snickered causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes playfully, “I know, better watch out she’s gonna have boys waiting on her beck and call.” The table rose with laughter, as they moved onto a different topic.

It felt like old times, sitting around with her siblings as they talked about childhood memories and embarrassing moments. She needed to come home more often instead of having them fly out to only spend a day or two.

Her eyes gazed over to Spencer and her niece who were stilling dancing, that warm fuzzy feeling. It’s unexplainable. She couldn’t help but imagine, what if. What if her and Spencer do end up together? Oh would their daughter be his princess. He would do anything for her. Whoever get’s to be the future Mrs.Reid would be the luckiest women in the world, his kids would be blessed with such a wonderful dad.

Scarlet looked over to her older sister who was too deep in thought as she watched her date dance with their niece. She couldn’t help but notice the smile that tugged at (Y/N) lips.

“So does that mean you’re next?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Next?

“For?” (Y/N) questioned back, unsure of what Scarlet was trying to lead on.

“You and that handsome Doctor Reid.”

(Y/N) eyes widened causing her to shake her head from left to right, “What? No no, we’re just friends.” she tried to suppress the smile that dared to paint over her lips.

Her siblings look between each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, “Sure keep telling yourself that.” Cole spoke in between his laughter.

Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest before responding “Hey! We’re just friends.” 

Cole leaned back into his chair raising a brow at her, “So, you’re telling us you don’t have any feelings for him? Zero, nada, zilch?” she glared at Cole kicking his ankle lightly. He winced at the sudden action reaching down to sooth his ankle.

“I don’t have feelings for him.”

Isabelle rose her brow at her younger sister, “You’re doing that thing.” If there was one thing she was bad at it would be lying. You’d think for a profiler she’d be better at lying and would be able to keep a poker face.

“What thing?”

Scarlet sighed loudly, “(Y/N) you may be a profiler but, we’re your siblings we know when you’re lying.” That only caused (Y/N) to scoff loudly and shake her head at her siblings.

Why are they attacking me right now?

“You cross your arms over your chest and you smile, A LOT it’s kinda no it IS creepy. Plus you get defensive, like very defensive.” Cole pointed out only for the rest of her siblings to agree.

Let’s forget what I said early about visiting more often. They can continue flying out to D.C.

(Y/N) got up from her seat slipping her heels back on causing Cole to flinch slightly, growing up the only boy meant dealing (Y/N) scared him. A lot.

 “I wasn’t going to hit you ass clown!”

Maybe, just maybe she was spending a bit too much time with Rossi.

 “I’m gonna go for a little walk.” 

The three siblings looked between each other. If there was something she knew all too well of doing it was avoiding her feelings. Not opening up to others, building walls high enough so no one can look over and see what she’s feelings or thinking. 

“Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be said!”

It felt like deja vu. 

Emily had told her the exact same thing a few days ago.

"Oh my sweet angel face (Y/N)! You and boy wonder are blind!” Penelope slurred as she attempted to place her glasses on (Y/N) face. JJ couldn’t help but laugh at Garcia’s actions.

“My vision is 20/20 as a matter of fact!” (Y/N) answered earning another laugh from Emily, “Pen is right you know? Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be-”

“Hey, you missed the bouquet toss.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before looking up to see Spencer.

“Did you know the tossing the bouquet is a tradition that stems from England. Women used to try to rip pieces of the bride's dress and flowers in order to obtain some of her good luck. Today the bouquet is tossed to single women with the belief that whoever catches it will be the next to marry.”

This was one of the many things she loved about Spencer. The amount of knowledge he holds in that huge brain of his. Usually the team isn’t much of a fan when he rambles on but, you loved it. The way he uses his hands to explain what he was thinking, or how he basically has an answer for well everything.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

He chuckled lightly taking a seat next to her, “Well Scarlet kinda threw it at me and said you know what to do. But your mom made her redo it, got a laugh out of everyone though.”

“Pretty sure you’re suppose to catch the garter.” (Y/N) giggled turning her head slightly to look up at Spencer who was laughing along with her. There was a sudden cool breeze causing her to wrap her arms around her chest.

“I knew I should’ve brought my jacket.”

Spencer shrugged off his dress jacket draping it over her shoulders. It was ever so slightly bigger on her she slipped her arms through the sleeves

“Thank you... and another thank you for being my date. I really hat- dislike attending weddings.”

“Did you know the first recorded evidence of marriage ceremonies uniting one woman and one man dates from about 2350 B-“

Her eyes fell towards the ground in front of her. Fixated on the shoes he was currently using.

The converse she had bought him for his 30th birthday, well belated 30th birthday. Not only was he using the converse she bought him but the mismatching socks as well. The team had been called to San Francisco to investigate a possible Zodiac Killer copycat. There was something up with Spencer however, he was quieter than usual. 

But it was only because he had doubts on why he’s in the FBI, questioning that he should be doing something more in his life with the amount of knowledge he had accumulated over the years. The team didn’t even realize they had missed his 30th birthday, and (Y/N) felt so bad for it. She was the one to always bring in the birthday boy or gal their favorite donuts and a cup of coffee. 

When the team had gotten back to Quantico she had stopped by to get him a new pair of converse and of course mis-matched socks.

“How did I not notice you’re using the shoes and socks I gifted you?”

His brows furrowed,“Is something wrong (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) sighed ignoring his question “I read that a crush only last four months. But if it last longer you are considered to be in love. is that true?”

“Actually, many people often mistake crushes and infatuation with love. The initial feelings of crush and falling in love are very similar. The rush of euphoria happens in both cases. The butterflies, and the feelings of pure joy at the sight of them happens in both cases. It’s easy to see how the two are mistaken for love because the feelings are so intense, but there is a difference. Crushes and infatuation go hand in hand, and are very similar-

He paused for a second catching his breath before continuing, “-a crush is defined as a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone inappropriate or unattainable. Infatuation is defined as an intense but short lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

Involuntarily she rest her head against his shoulder, “What about love?” she questioned. You glanced up for a second watching as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

“Love is truly seeing and accepting their object of affection. It’s an intense feeling of deep affection. to be patient and understanding, love is forgiving. It desires a deep connection. When we truly love someone, we see their flaws, and we accept them. there are thoughts of a future together, and realistic expectations of ea-“

JJ sighed, “Just tell him say I love you. Not as a friend. But I love you, on a deeper connection. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m in love with you.” her eyes fluttered shut, her heart was pounding in her ears, she felt Spencer tense at what she had just said. Oh god did I make a mistake?

She pulled her head away from his shoulder, tell him why just tell him.

“You’re the most sweetest, yet awkward guy I know. Not only are you sweet, you’re also so smart. I love to hear you ramble on about, honestly anything. You’re so caring, and kind. It hurts me when you beat yourself up, I just want to hug you and tell you why you’re wrong and tell you that I love-” 

Spencer placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her into a slow passionate kiss, everything happened so quickly it took her a moment to process what was happening. Wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss, the feeling was so surreal.

He pulled away slowly his hands still on her cheeks as he rest his forehead against hers, “I love you too.” he spoke as he stared into her (Y/E/C). (Y/N) smiled from ear to ear, stealing another kiss from Spencer.

“Finally!” a voice spoke startling the two. (Y/N) peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see Cole standing there with well the rest of her siblings, oh yeah she was never going to hear the end of this. 

[gwaciechang]

I Don't Wanna Go Home (1/15?)

So, this is probably going to be my most ambitious project ever. I'm going to do a fusion of the video gave Subnautica Below Zero, with the characters from Cloverfield Paradox. You don't have to have played Below Zero first, although it would certainly help. Also, as someone who has played the game, I tried my best to explain everything, which is why the first few chapters are going to be really slow, and why everyone talks so much. I also made a change to the canon of the first Subnautica: instead of Riley curing Kharaa, it was the precursors.

So, a few more things before we start this chapter. I hate "y/n l/n" stuff, so I just call the pov character Ling Tam. I don't think anybody actually uses that name in the story, but that might change, and in any case, you're free to replace her name with any name you like. Also, reader is in a relationship with Mundy at the start of the story, although that, obviously, won't last because it's endgame reader/Schmidt. Okay, that's everything, enjoy, and let me know if you want to be tagged.

@hope-to-hell @vicanth @feralrunaway @october505 @potentialproblem01

"Hey, Monk, you told me to come get you if that weird signal showed up ag-" you stop when you see the vehicle technician on the radio.

"When are you going to send me some more art? There's still a patch of bare wall here that could use some color and a touch of genius!" Monk says, probably to his kids, as he waves you away. You close the door as silently as you can, and not a second too soon, because Mundy opens the habitat door and stomps his way inside with a box. Behind him, you can see the prawn suit, with several other boxes still tied to its massive arms. There's an inquisitive face popping out of the water that you decide not to tell him about. Why shouldn't the creatures have a little fun?

"Another day, another slight by the winged furies," Mundy grumbles.

"Another interference alert?" you ask, trying to lay the sympathy on thick before you inevitably burst into laughter.

"As usual," the xenobiologist sighs theatrically. "Also as usual, I went out to see what the problem was. And, of course, it was-"

"Frozen stalagmites of feathered bird excrement," the two of you say together.

"I fear the career impact of saying this officially-"

"If you can even call what you have a career," you interrupt, getting yourself a faceful of dirty towel.

Besides throwing the thing you're really hoping he hadn't just used to wipe up bird shit in your face, your boyfriend continues as if you'd never spoken. "I could swear they're targeting me personally. The week I was out with a flu, I came back to find the tower spotless. Monk laughed at me when I asked him how he'd cleaned it. Silly me!"

"As if Monk would ever clean anything," you agree. "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing left for me to try but quitting. But I know that's what the birds want me to do," he shakes his fist at the sky as he walks back outside to retrieve the final box.

You turn back to the screen and wonder about the signal again. It's been appearing on and off for days, ever since you got the radio tower up and running, and what would a repeat call be besides a distress signal?

"Ah jeez, these sea monkeys are going to get me in trouble," the box in Mundy's hands is scratched through in places. "This is the third shipment that those buggers have gotten their weird little hands into! Now we're running low on flares and I'm going to have to search nearby nests for stolen cargo," he sighs as he drops a mangled box on the top of his cluttered workstation. It makes a bang that would have disturbed Monk, if he weren't on the radio, or Schmidt, if he were a normal person who came back from work at normal hours. As it is, there's just you to look at him, a welcome break from potential distress signals and what they might mean.

"Just put some of your drawings on the tower, they'll be too scared to go near it!"

"Ha ha," Mundy says sarcastically, before going outside to park the prawn-

"Oh, for fuck's sake! It’s fucking gone!"

You and Monk, still on the radio, step outside, but sure enough, the prawn suit has disappeared without a trace, as far as you can tell.

"I'm still trying, quietly--I don't want any more trouble--to figure out where I went wrong. I was sure Tam had picked up a distress signal!" Monk bends down to peer at the tracks. "I was right on top of it. And then it just," he gets to the edge of the glacier, stands up, and shakes his head, "it just stopped. What if one of the precursors is still down there? And how could a hivemind alien race so advanced that they singlehandedly ended a galaxy wide pandemic leave someone behind? I'll probably be home before I ever get to find out, and it will fall to some future researcher to come and find out, I guess, I hope," he waves the two of you back into the habitat and closes the door. "But that means I'll get to be with you little rascals." His voice fades and disappears.

"So, game tonight?" you ask, hoping to erase the distress off Mundy’s face.

"That'd be nice," he says with a weak smile, just before Jensen slams her door open.

"Mundy, inside!" barks the overseer of operations.

Mundy sighs and drags his feet as he walks into Jensen's office. No sooner has she closed the door with a snap than you and Monk have your heads pressed against the door.

"Mundy, I'm not blaming you, but what do you mean, 'it's gone?' Where did it go? You had trouble retrieving the drop pod and decided to jettison the prawn suit?"

"I didn't jettison the prawn suit! I left it outside to put the supply drop away, went back for it, and it was just gone! Someone must have stolen it."

"Who? Who else do you think is on this planet besides the five of us?"

"It could be a creature ate it. I didn't lose it, that's for sure. I'm careful with my vehicles!"

You can practically hear Jensen’s eyeroll as she continues, "I'm sure you are, but you have to admit, there have been a lot of 'accidents' involving our very expensive vehicles."

"You want to follow me on a few runs tomorrow? See what it's like? Conditions are way harsher than anything I ever imagined. You can't really understand it from inside your office!"

Monk winces, and you know there's a matching pained expression on your face. Talking back to Jensen is a terrible idea, but Mundy's sealed his fate, and now all that's left is to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"That won't be necessary," Jensen says with syrupy calm. "Thank you for your time. I'll write it up as an accident."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mundy's voice is shaky. Jensen doesn't respond, so the vehicle technician’s deliberately loud footsteps approach the door, prompting you and the precursor researcher you're spying with to run like your asses are on fire back to your stations.

"I think it'd be best if Researcher Tam takes over your duties with the leviathan tomorrow," Jensen says, loudly enough for you to hear, even through the door.

Now it's your turn to wince. Mundy gives you a small smile as he walks past, and then Jensen's in your line of sight, hands on her hips.

"I believe I told you to go somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am," you drop everything to put your thermal suit on, and pour a final cup of sweet, sweet dirty bean water in your thermos. There's no cappuccino machine allowed in the cave, lest it somehow thaw out the entire frozen leviathan Mundy, and now you, are studying. Or maybe it was just Schmidt being anal about his robots, you wouldn't put it past the guy whose lips are basically permanently attached to Jensen's ass.

On the bright side, they're also attached to a guy who knows what he's doing, and is thorough in explaining what Mundy does when he's here. Still, it's barely five minutes in when the silence gets to you.

"I love and hate exploring these tunnels," you start to babble, not expecting Schmidt to respond. "Yeah, they're marvels to the power of the ice worms. I mean, the amount of ice they are able to cut through in seconds, it would take us at least a couple days. Their tunneling mechanism is ruthlessly efficient. Alterra could only dream of having this sort of mining capability, and yeah, the ice worms uncover mineral rich pockets as they tunnel. But going beneath the surface is so risky, I mean, we've lost so many already, and I don't understand why we have to stay in this particular area of the glacier. I can't wait to get off this hellhole, or ice hole? Whatever."

You can hardly believe it, but you hear a clear snort coming from Schmidt’s workstation. You fill your flasks with a wide smile on your face, which doesn’t fade even when you make your way back across the tunnel to see his with its usual pinched, sour expression.

"Hey, do you want some coffee?" you wave the thermos at him. "It might help you get the taste of Alterra boot leather out of your mouth," you say in a singsong voice.

"How much sugar and cream is in that?" Schmidt wrinkles his nose. "No thank you."

You decide to let that roll off your back and chuckle a little. "I guess my proclivities toward having coffee with my sugar is well known, huh? Just like how I should know better than to invite you to game night with me and the other researchers, again?"

Is snow blindness affecting your vision, or did Schmidt just smile?

"You should know better," he says in a soft voice, and then he takes out another set of small, sterile flasks, and hands them to you. "Get some samples from the skull, too, use the elevator."

"Thanks!" you grab the flasks, only to drop them the second you put your hand on the elevator lift button, because that's a fucking rotten peeper hanging off the edge.

Schmidt snaps his gloves off and cleans it up, which is nice of him, even if the things he says while he does it aren’t very nice. "Mundy," he practically spits, "always leaving food around. At least the nutrient blocks and the filtered water don't spoil."

"Well, the man likes to munch on things," you try to lighten the mood. "Are you telling me you don’t leave snacks around your workstation?" Schmidt opens his mouth, but you interrupt. "Don't tell me, you have a timer telling you when to go to the fabricator to make food and eat?"

He closes his mouth and turns a little red.

Holy shit, you were right? That's the saddest thing you've ever heard. "Okay, you know what, you are definitely playing Alien Intruders with us tonight, because I'm going to cook. Real food, too, none of that fabricated stuff."

"Oh, I am?" Schmidt raises an eyebrow.

"Yep! And I'm going to make my favorite dish, just for you, you'll love it! Roasted Chinese potato with shredded marblemelon and salt."

That was definitely a snort, maybe even a laugh, and it carries you through the rest of the day.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.10 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Red's been going along with all this, but it turns out that he has a thing or three to say to his brother.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge had always had a plan for his life. Since he was a small child forced to spend his days watching Red beg, barter and steal for their meals and shelter, he’d been determined to help his brother provide for them as soon as he could. To bring them out of the dump and the back alleys to something better, from gutter trash to the Royal Guard.

It hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it, and between the two of them they’d managed to make a home for themselves, a decent one he’d always believed. Until his brother began tinkering with that old machine in the basement, the one that would never do anything until it did, and he discovered there was more outside their own little, dust-filled world. So much more, other Universes that didn’t abide by the rule of kill or be killed, where children might be trapped beneath the mountain but still played safely in the street.

There were times he’d thought about leaving their universe, in the darkest nights when fresh LV was settling heavily into his soul like lead while Edge fought his way back out from its shrouding numbness, struggling to keep his sense of self. He’d never let those longing ideas take hold; despite everything, Underfell was their home, there were people that needed him there, Monsters who depended on him.

He’d abandoned it all for the sake of this one child and if this was the new plan for his life, then he would handle it, as he had everything else, no matter what.

Whatever protests Red and Stretch were offering to that decision were drowned out by Blue’s dismissive, “Don’t be silly, of course you’re staying. Aren’t you?” Then with rising alarm, “You wouldn’t be going back to Underfell with her, would you?”

“No,” Edge said, “Not Underfell.” Again, he kept it to himself that that was no longer possible. In his arms, the baby was slowly settling, her drowsy sockets sinking closed again.

Blue was still nattering on in his relief, lowering his voice in deference to the baby’s whimpers easing back into sleep. “Then of course you’ll be staying with us! Oh, but we’ll need to make some changes around here. There’s only two bedrooms, that isn’t enough. Maybe the garage, yes, yes, the garage!” He clapped his hands together in quiet delight. “We can turn it into an apartment, I’ll put my Human cage somewhere else, yes, that’ll be perfect for you and Edge, Papy!”

Stretch only sat on the sofa, blinking a few times, as if the light was suddenly too bright. He was looking at Edge and the baby, but turned to his brother at that, “uh, say what?”

“An apartment for you and Edge, do keep up,” Blue said primly. He raised both brow bones in obvious implication, “Unless you’re about to tell me that the two of you weren’t going to share your room?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Edge repeated patiently before Stretch could answer him. “This is only a temporary arrangement. As soon as I find some employment, we’ll work on getting our own place, you don’t need to rearrange your entire home.”

Red sat up, sputtering, “okay, back it up there, bro, what, now?”

“Why would you do that?” Blue said, perplexed. He tilted his head to the side, reminiscent of the Dogs back in Underfell when Edge gave them an order they didn’t quite understand. “We can’t help take care of the baby if you move out.”

“You don’t need to help care for her,” Edge said, “she’s my responsibility.”

“Nonsense, it takes two to tango as they say and there are four of us!”

“Not if the child is created in a lab!” Edge snapped. The baby stirred and he lowered his voice, “This isn’t about birth control, this is about taking her away from someone who intended to use her as a lab experiment. I chose to take her, she’s my responsibility, and I will do my duty. The three of us won’t be staying here any longer than necessary.”

The silence hung in the air, nearly tangible.

After a moment, Stretch rolled to his feet, slouching across the living room to a side table where he started rummaging through the drawer. He came out with a pack of cigarettes, already stripping off the cellophane as he said, “you heard the man, she’s not ours, she’s his. he’s got a handle on it, let him take care of everything. i’m sure he’s got it all figured out.”

He didn’t look at Edge, walking straight past him in his disheveled shorts and mismatched sweatshirt to the rug where he shoved his feet into a pair of slippers before jerking open the front door, cold air pouring in. He went out, closed the door carefully behind him.

Red groaned loudly, “you really are a dumb fucker, aren’t you, bro.”

Arguing was familiar to Edge, but not while holding a sleeping infant. His kept his voice low and even, did not think of Stretch out in the cold lighting what would surely be the first of several cigarettes. “He doesn’t need to feel responsible. He didn’t choose this.”

The only person responsible was Edge, for coming here to begin with. There hadn’t been much in the way of choice on that, all he could do now was try not to compound the damages by leaving as soon as possible, before his debts grew past his ability to pay them.

Red only glared at him. simmering fury in his crimson eye lights, “yeah? me either, but i’m still fucking here, so i think i get a vote.”

“You’re different.”

“about three feet of different, yeah.”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it!” Edge snapped, “You’re my brother.”

“that i am. but i ain’t the only other person with a stake.” Red sounded frustrated and they glared at each other, Blue standing to the side, hands clasped in front of him as he looked nervously between them.

Red did not look away from Edge as he said slowly, "blue. why'nt you go upstairs to your room with your gear, get unpacked, settle in."

Blue didn’t move. He stood uncertainly, his feet shuffling as if they wished to obey.

"blue," Red said, terribly soft and the undertone was pure Underfell, "i ain't askin'.

He nodded then, snatching up his bag and heading up the stairs. His bedroom door closed as softly as the front door had and they were alone.

"okay, just you and me, bro. first things first,” Red held out his arms, “hand me the kid.”

“She’s my responsibility,” Edge repeated doggedly. “I chose this, you didn’t.”

“yeah?” Red demanded, “you come up with that idea all by your bad self? why the fuck you think i brought you to the lab, sightseein’? she was never not gonna leave with us, you just grabbed her first. you so busy tryin' to call dibs, you're forgettin' i saw her first.” Red never looked away, met Edge’s eye lights unblinkingly as he told him, “i been letting it go on account of you bein' new to all this, but now i’m tellin ya. give her here.”

Edge hesitated a moment longer, then stepped over to the sofa.

It was somewhat disturbing to see how easily Red folded her into his arms, cradling her expertly. She settled in with a contended little sigh, snuggling into the fur lining of his jacket. “there we go, honey.” Red crooned with a gentleness that he had never seen in his brother before.

Red said nothing else, only sat with the baby and Edge stood, waiting impatiently, until his brittle endurance broke. “Well? I’m sure you’re waiting to explain to me how I can’t handle this, so let me stop you before you begin. I can and I will, I’m doing fine so far.”

“oh, yeah, you’re doin’ swell,” Red snorted. “wanna take a good look at yourself in the mirror right now?”

Edge resisted the urge to shrink from that pointed comment, tugging Stretch’s robe tighter around himself. “That’s hardly fair, it was my first night with her!”

“ain’t none of this fair,” Red said agreeably. “‘specially not to her. wasn’t fair to you when i slipped us out of the lab before you could get your own special tattoo and we ended up on the streets.”

“Red—“

“wasn’t fair to me that i had ta do it,” Red went on, relentlessly, “but life ain’t fair, that’s a lesson i never had to teach you. you learned it all on your own.” He sighed heavily and settled deeper into the sofa cushions, drawing up his knees into a sort of cage around the sleeping child. “you know all that shit. so, now you wanna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?” He jerked his chin towards the stairs, then back towards the front door. “we got her outta there and now you got people throwin' themselves at you to help and you just gotta do it all on your own, dontcha. lemme clue you in to something, little brother, the reason i raised you up on my own is ‘cause there wasn't anyone else to help!"

“I don’t need anyone else to help,” Edge hissed. He crossed his empty arms over his chest, gripping his upper arms in both hands so tightly that his phalanges ached. “I can do this on my own!”

“so, what then? we move out of this place and i move in with ya, but i don't get to help with the little miss?” His crimson eye lights were coolly assessing. “gonna go out there and get a job, right? whose gonna watch her while you're raking in the g?”

"I…” Edge faltered, "I'll pay someone. A babysitter."

"someone. someone you can trust more'n us?"

“No!” His soul clenched in his chest, already rejecting his own idea. Who could he possibly trust with her, even in this world, who could look at the symbols on her ribs and not rouse curiosity, perhaps take their questions to another scientist at another lab who might well have read the old paperwork left behind and— "Of course not, that isn't what I meant. I’ll handle it!"

“oh, i getcha. you’re the only you're allowed to take care of her.” Red rubbed a thumb gently down her rounded cheek and her mouth moved briefly as if readying itself for a bottle within her dreams. So small, so fragile in the cradle of his brother’s arms. “lemme ask you somethin' bro, are any of the rest of us allowed to love her, or are you callin' all of that, too?"

He’d never heard his brother so much as mention the word love before and something already tight in his soul clenched harder, painfully. "I can't ask you all to help me with this!"

"bro.” Red looked up at him and his expression was deeply pained and conflicted, none of his emotions hidden behind his normal veneer of sneering indifference. “i know it's hard for you, but you gotta pay attention. you ain't asking for help, heh, really not, not even close. we're offerin'. so let us offer.”

It must be his exhaustion, Edge thought, that made his emotions rise so close to the surface. Lingering heavily in his chest, rising into his throat and refusing to be swallowed away no matter how hard he tried. He was tired, so tired, and not simply from being kept up throughout the night. There was so much he’d lost in only a day’s time, lost and gained, and what he felt most strongly in this moment was a complicated grief.

Red nodded as if he could read every unspoken sentiment on his face. He patted the sofa next to him, scooting to the side, and Edge lurched over to sit next to him on legs that felt detached and shaky, sinking into the cushions. The moment he was settled, Red leaned over to lay the sleeping baby in his arms and he swore she was already putting on tangible weight since he’d first carried her away. She was already growing and changing, all he could do was try to guide it, to make sure she was cared for properly. That she was loved.

Red shifted up to sit on the back of the sofa, his shoulders against the wall. It put him taller than Edge, for once. “i don’t wanna see you running yourself ragged trying to do everything. been there, done that, ya know?"

“I can’t,” Edge whispered, the words soft and broken. He looked at the baby in his arms, at her peacefully sleeping face. He was so tired. Everything was so clear yesterday and now the course of his life was clouded, the linear line of it veering drunkenly along an unknown road.

“sure you can. am i your brother or not?” Edge nearly flinched from the hand that settled on his skull, caught himself just in time and instead leaned into it. He closed his sockets as his brother gently stroked his coronal sutures, the same way he had so many years ago now, on cold nights when Edge couldn’t sleep, holding him close as he crooned vulgar lullabies. There were no songs this time, only words drenched in unspoken promise, “‘cause little brother, i’m still plannin’ on taking care of you, too.”

Edge couldn’t say anything to that, he only nodded.

“good.” That stroking turned into a gentle rap of knuckles against the top of his skull. “now get your head on straight. go out there and apologize to the honey bun for tryin' to take away his kid just when he was gettin' used to the idea of havin' one.

“Our relationship isn’t like that.” Fuckbuddies was the word Stretch used, and it was not one that implied any form of shared parenthood.

“no?” Red said doubtfully. His chuckle was familiar, his humor tickling along the side of unkind. “then you better make damn well sure he knows it. mebbe you should start by askin’ him how he feels before you go on makin’ up his mind for him.”

Edge didn’t reply, but his brother’s point was brutally accurate. He owed Stretch that much and a great deal more. Now all he needed was to shore up his faltering courage and start paying his debts.

tbc

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Seven (10/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: teen, 5200 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 7.5 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Now that Ainsley had been let in on the secret of the new baby, Rose and James didn’t need to work as hard to uphold the facade. Sianin, bless her little heart, had no idea what was going on, but was glad that her mum wanted to laze around the house, which translated into Sianin getting plenty of snuggles on the sofa as they watched cartoons.

James seemed to be taking “over-protective” to a whole new level. He jumped at the chance to care for their children, either taking over or joining Rose in all bedtime routines. If a twin awoke in the middle of the night, he sprang out of bed before her groggy brain could even realize Hannah or Maddie had made a sound.

But when she brought it up to him, he flashed her a charming grin that never failed to melt her, and simply asked, “You’re upset that I want to care for my children?”

And really, when he put it like that, her irritation with him evaporated. She had to keep reminding him to let her help, though, lest the twins forget they had a mother.

James and Rose also used the opportunity to place more responsibilities on Sianin’s shoulders, to the girl’s displeasure. Since Rose wasn’t supposed to do most of the normal household chores, James taught Sianin how to vacuum, wash the floors, and a host of other minor but daily tasks.

Rose, though guilty that she was lounging around the house all day when she ought to be cleaning, was glad that Sianin was at least performing the tasks James assigned to her with minimal complaining. 

Ainsley, meanwhile, took it upon herself to help her dad with anything he was doing and to check in with her mum to see if Rose needed anything.

“How long d’you have to rest for?” Ainsley asked as she settled in with Rose and Maddie on the couch for her nightly reading. Hannah was already in her crib for the night, but Maddie was stubbornly refusing to fall asleep in favor of getting snuggles and kisses from her mother.

“A few weeks,” Rose replied, blotting at the drool dripping down her baby’s chin with her jumper sleeve. Maddie scrunched her nose and turned her face away. “We’ve got a follow-up appointment next week to check the status of the bleed.”

Ainsley tilted her head to the side. “Why do you always do that? Make it plural? You said we’ve got an appointment, not I’ve got an appointment.”

Rose snorted. “You’re right. But your dad is joining me at the appointment. Plus, it’s an appointment to check on the baby, who is both his and mine. It feels wrong to claim sole ownership.”

“That’s actually really cute,” Ainsley admitted. She sighed dreamily. “Dad takes such good care of you when you’re unwell.”

A flood of adoration overtook Rose, squeezing her chest until inexplicable tears burned her eyes. She listened to her husband, who was in the kitchen assembling the girls’ lunches for tomorrow. He was humming to himself as he worked, the notes slightly flat and offkey.

“Yeah, he does,” Rose croaked.

“I hope I find someone just like him one day,” Ainsley said with a wistful sigh.

“I hope that for you, too.” Rose kissed Ainsley’s temple. “I hope that for all of my children.”

“How do you think it’ll work with Sianin and her soulmates?”

“What do you mean?”

Ainsley shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine having two soulmates. How can she love two people as equally and intensely as you love Dad?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh? Who knows whether Sianin’s relationship with Elena and Juliette will evolve into a romantic one.”

“I suppose,” Ainsley allowed. “But for argument’s sake, how would it work if they decided to let it be romantic? It seems so strange to be involved in a relationship with two people.”

“Strange as it might be to you, it’s normal for others. Love in all its forms is a beautiful thing, remember that.”

“It feels like it would be hard to make sure you aren’t showing favoritism to one versus another,” Ainsley said.

“Well, your dad and I have four children—we love you all with equal intensity and try not to show favoritism. I imagine it’s something similar.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I would want to be in a relationship with more than one person,” Ainsley admitted. “I want one person who is mine, and mine alone.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Rose said. “You need to decide what works for you, just as Sianin will decide what works for her.”

Ainsley was quiet for several long seconds, but Rose could practically hear her daughter’s mind churning. While she let Ainsley think, she used the time to give kisses to the baby in her arms. The baby was finally getting drowsy; she had her cheek planted above Rose’s left breast, and her head rose and fell with her mother’s breaths. Any time Maddie’s eyes began to droop shut, she wrenched them open and gazed up at her mother.

Being the singular focus of her baby’s attention always made her heart squeeze with love and gratitude. She was the whole world to this tiny, perfect little human, and for a moment, as Rose got lost in her baby’s blue eyes, Maddie was her whole world, too.

“Do you think her eyes will stay blue?” Ainsley asked.

“I think so,” Rose said. “Usually if they change, they would’ve changed by now. All of my babies’ eyes started out blue. In Sianin’s case, they turned brown after a couple months. Yours stayed more or less the same color. And the twins’ appear to be brightening… they kind of look like Gran’s, don’t they?”

Ainsley peered down at Maddie. The baby shifted her sleepy eyes to her big sister, and offered a smile that widened into a yawn. Ainsley snorted and rubbed Maddie’s back. The baby grunted and wiggled around before face-planting into the crevice between Rose’s breasts.

“Silly girl,” Ainsley murmured. “Yeah, they do look like Gran’s. How does that work? I mean, I sort of know how it works. But her DNA is half you, half Dad, and yet she has Gran’s eyes. And apparently I look like Dad’s mum.”

“My DNA is half my mum and dad, and your dad’s DNA is half his mum and dad,” Rose said. “There are bits of all of our past family swirling inside of us, and it’s a lottery draw as to which traits get passed on to a baby.”

“That’s kind of neat,” Ainsley said. “It’s so fascinating that so many things have to happen perfectly to create a baby.” She paused, then continued in a rush, “We had the talk at school today. Y’know, how the girls and boys should be starting puberty soon, if they haven’t started already. One girl in my class had her first period months ago, which is mad. She’s nine! They also explained how in a couple years we’ll all be sexually mature and be able to make babies and so we all have to be very, very careful to prevent unwanted pregnancies as we’re exploring our bodies.

“They went over how a baby is made. Just the basics. Y’know, penis in vagina, sperm meets egg equals baby. I didn’t know that men released millions and millions of sperm when they had sex. That seems like overkill, doesn’t it?”

“What seems like overkill?”

Rose jumped at the sound of James’s voice right behind her. Her mind whirred, trying to wrap itself around the sudden turn their conversation had taken, as well as the fact that her baby was old enough to be learning the basics of human reproduction in school already.

“Did you know you made and released millions of sperm at a time when you have sex?” Ainsley asked, her eyes bright.

James was silent for a beat, cheeks pinkening and mouth going slack. He cleared his throat. “Er… yeah. Yeah, I did know that. But where did you learn that?”

“They gave us the talk in school.”

“Ah,” he said, wincing.

“Why do you make millions of sperm when only one will actually fertilize the egg?” Ainsley asked, cocking her head to the side. She then glanced down at Maddie, who was drooling into Rose’s shirt. “Er, or I guess two?”

“Actually, it was just one sperm,” Rose corrected.

Ainsley frowned. “But… there are two babies.”

“But they’re identical,” James said. “Genetically, they’re the same. Basically, one of my sperm met your mum’s egg, then that egg divided somewhat incorrectly to begin producing two separate babies with the same exact genetic code.”

“Oh. So your egg accidentally made a clone of itself?”

Rose snorted. “Something like that.”

Ainsley looked impressed. Then she said, “But still. Why make millions of sperm? That’s a bit wasteful, isn’t it?”

“It’s all about statistics,” James answered, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Would you rather try to hit a target with one arrow or many? What if that one arrow is defective somehow? Or your aim is slightly off? By releasing tens of millions of sperm in one go, you increase the odds of fertilization; and the egg can be a bit choosier by only allowing the strongest of the bunch to fertilize it and begin making a baby.”

“Oh. That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Ainsley said. “What stops all of the sperm from penetrating the egg and creating a million babies?”

“Once a sperm meets the egg, it basically walls itself off from getting fertilized again,” James explained. “When sperm meets egg, a biological cascade effect begins. The woman’s egg recognizes it’s been fertilized, so it begins producing chemicals and hormones that tell the rest of the body to prepare for the oncoming baby. And it shuts down egg production so there’s no chance of multiple fertilized eggs trying to grow a baby after one is already growing. Imagine how cramped it would get in there. And imagine how hard it would be on the woman to have multiple babies all at different stages of development in her uterus. Evolution has figured out how to control everything so that doesn’t happen.”

“That’s so cool,” Ainsley said.

“It is a bit cool,” James said, smiling.

“It’s weird that women are born with all the eggs they’ll ever have, but men keep making more and more sperm ‘til they die. That’s way more efficient. What if something happens to the woman and her egg supply is damaged? At least with men, they can regenerate their sperm.” Ainsley cocked her head at her father. “In theory, you could help make a baby when you’re a hundred, right?”

James choked. “I… well… yes, technically. But my baby-making partner would also be a hundred—well, ninety-five—and since she would no longer be fertile, I wouldn’t be helping to make any more babies. Besides, the… ehm… the quality of sperm deteriorates over time. It’s not usually a good idea to procreate after a certain age. And, ehm… the act of making a baby gets… ehm… more difficult in old age. So… ehm… I’m not sure we’d… that we’d… Although I would truly love to be with your mother in that way in our old age, statistically it’s not all that probable so I’m not really expecting to… not that I wouldn’t want to… but…”

Rose kneaded the heel of her hand into her eyes as James’s gob ran without stop and without filter. She eventually reached over and pinched him. He squeaked, but snapped his mouth shut. Ainsley, meanwhile, was in stitches on the sofa, cackling madly as both her parents’ cheeks blazed.

oOoOo

Two weeks and two days after learning she had subchorionic hemorrhage, Rose walked into her OB-GYN, this time with her husband at her side. Despite the fact that her bleeding and cramping had stopped nearly a week ago, she was a little nervous to see what Elizabeth would have to say.

James must have sensed her anxiety, because he threaded their fingers together and rubbed at the back of her thumb while they waited for Rose’s name to be called. He talked to her about nothing in particular, filling the silence between them. Rose let the soothing rhythm of his voice calm her until Elizabeth appeared in the waiting room and called name, gesturing for her to follow.

“How are you feeling?” the midwife asked as she took Rose’s height and weight. “You’ve lost some weight since I saw you two weeks ago. Nothing worrying, but something to keep an eye on. Especially since you ought to be putting on weight as your pregnancy progresses.”

“My appetite is still finicky,” Rose admitted. “Nausea is mostly gone though. I’m hoping that will help. But otherwise, I feel fine.”

“Any bleeding? Cramping? Dizziness?”

Rose shook her head and stepped off the scale, following Elizabeth down the corridor to an exam room. James followed silently and settled into the chair beside the exam table. An ultrasound machine already sat in the corner of the room, and, familiar with the routine, Rose reclined on the table and exposed her belly.

Déjà vu settled over her as she remembered the utter terror of two weeks ago, certain her midwife was about to confirm her worst fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she began to tremble as her mind warred with itself, half of it trying to calm her, and the other half spinning out of control. James scooted his chair closer to her and leaned his elbow onto the table above her head. His warmth and scent surrounded her.

“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“What a cute little bump,” Elizabeth cooed, squirting cool gel onto said bump between Rose’s hips. “Let’s see the cute little baby inside it, eh?”

Rose reached over and grabbed James’s free hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly. He bent down to kiss her forehead again, then he brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles one at a time.

“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, tapping a few buttons into her keyboard.

Rose looked at the monitor and her heart clenched at the sight of her baby. They seemed to be about the same size as before, but Elizabeth was pleased with the baby’s appearance.

“They’re rather active,” the midwife noted, readjusting the probe when the shifting baby went out of focus. “Are you able to feel them, Rose?”

“Not yet,” she croaked. She desperately wanted to, though. She wanted that little flutter of life between her hips. She wanted the undeniable proof that her baby was alive and healthy and growing, because what if the scan was somehow wrong? Rose squeezed her eyes shut and focused deep within herself, trying to sense any ripple of movement in her uterus.

Her eyes shot open when the midwife tapped a few buttons and the heartbeat echoed around the room. 

James let out a soft, “Oh,” his grip on her hand turning vice-like.

Rose glanced up at her husband, but his gaze was locked on the monitor, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. The sight of them made her own eyes prickle. She would never tire of seeing the awe on his face as he beheld their children. He treated each day with their kids as though it was the most precious gift he’d been given; this baby was no exception, and Rose could already see how in love her husband was with the tiny fetus inside her. She could plainly see him, seven months from now, weeping as he held their newborn for the first time, curling his body around theirs as though he could physically shield their baby from any harm the world might bring to them. She could see him sitting with the baby in the dead of night, half asleep himself, yet holding their small child to his chest as he rocked them.

God, she wanted that, was impatient for these visions to come true. Even though she regularly saw him holding and snuggling the children they already had, Rose was desperate to give him his fifth child and bring completion to their not-so-little-anymore family.

“Our baby looks healthy,” James said, his voice hoarse. Rose blinked away the visions in her mind’s eye and was brought back to the present, where her husband was no longer looking at the baby on the screen, but rather down at Rose. She flashed him a small smile that he returned before he focused on the midwife, his gaze intense. “But how is Rose? How is the hemorrhage? Is she healthy and safe?”

“Let’s take a look at that next.” Elizabeth zoomed out away from the baby, and instead shifted the focus of the ultrasound probe to the gray masses surrounding the baby. “Here we go.”

After taking a few seconds to orient James and Rose to what she was talking about, Elizabeth pointed to a black blob along the edge of the placenta. “Here’s the clot. And yes, it is just a clot now. It appears to no longer be actively bleeding, which is excellent news. The placenta is intact, which is also great news. Sometimes a concern is that the bleeding will cause the placenta to pull away from the uterine wall, but that is not the case here. I am very, very happy with what I’m seeing.”

Rose let out a deep breath. James, too, relaxed a fraction.

“Can I go back to business as usual?” Rose asked.

“Let’s not be hasty,” James answered instead.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Rose drawled, reaching up to pat his cheek.

Elizabeth pursed her lips around a grin. She wiped the expression off her face and said, “I see no reason why not. Obviously you are limited as any other pregnant woman is, and I would try to take it easy for the next couple weeks as the clot dissolves, but yes, you should be able to resume all activities as normal.”

Rose was fairly certain she’d read between the lines correctly, yet she asked, “Sex too?”

James let out a little squeak that had Rose rolling her eyes. Elizabeth’s entire profession revolved around people having had biologically-successful sex. They themselves were here because they’d had successful sex. Nutter.

“Yes, you may resume your sexual activities,” the midwife answered.

Rose nodded. She hadn’t been in the mood for sex lately, too concerned was she with the baby and will following the instructions to rest. She knew that James’s sex drive had mirrored her own in his double concern for her and the baby. While she still didn’t have the desire to drag James straight into bed when they got home, Rose was glad it was at least an option, if the mood struck. She’d find other ways to satisfy James if or when his sex drive returned while hers remained elusive.

“Is Rose okay to travel?” James asked. “We were planning to take the kids up to Scotland for half-term break next week. Probably travelling by train.”

“I’ve been cleared to shag your brains out, but no, the movement of a train will be far too vigorous for my delicate condition,” Rose muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

James flicked her nose but didn’t reply.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Elizabeth said, pretending not to have heard their exchange. “Just listen to your body, Rose. It will do a good job of telling you what it needs. Try not to overexert. Rest when you’re tired. Make sure you’re getting enough vitamins and nutrients. Things like that.”

“Thanks,” Rose said. “And while we’re talking about it, do you happen to have any connections with midwives in Scotland? Near Glasgow? James and I are going to be relocating our family. The move isn’t happening next week or anything; we’re getting the kids used to the area and the house we’ll be moving into.”

“And you say I’m chatty,” James teased.

Rose rolled her eyes.

“Funnily enough, I do,” Elizabeth said. “One of my very close friends. We went to school together. I can send you her contact information, as I don’t have it on hand right now. I can also reach out to her to see if she can see you next week, if you’d like? A consultation visit, mostly, assuming she is taking new patients and is near enough to where you’ll be living.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Rose said, accepting the moist towels the midwife handed to her and cleaning off her belly.

Elizabeth made a few notes on her computer, then printed out another scan of the baby for them, despite them having one from two weeks ago. She also scheduled Rose’s twenty-week appointment, which would be shortly after the holidays. Rose was already impatient for January sixth to be here; it would be the appointment when she and James would learn the sex of their baby, something Rose always loved learning. But this time was the added game of being able to tease James for his apparent inability to produce a Y-chromosomed sperm. As though that was something he could control. (A fact he liked to remind her of often.)

“As always, you can call us if there are any questions or concerns,” Elizabeth said as she walked them to the front lobby. “But I’m very pleased with everything I’ve seen today.”

After thanking her, James slipped his fingers between Rose’s and guided her out to their car.

oOoOo

The following week, James and Rose willed themselves to have endless reserves of patience as they readied their children for the trip to Scotland. It felt like they had to pack up their entire house to ensure they had enough supplies for all the kids, including toys and games in addition to the endless articles of clothing.

Robert, bless him, was accompanying them, to help with child care and to give his opinion on the work they might want done to the manor house. James had reached out to half a dozen different remodeling companies to have them come out and take a look at the work he and Rose wanted done; they were due to arrive at the end of the week, since James and Rose wanted the first few days to walk around the house and make lists of repairs and upgrades that could be done, both internally and externally to the grounds.

The train ride went as well as could be expected when travelling with four children. Ainsley was content to read for the entire journey, but Sianin loudly proclaimed she was bored barely an hour into the trip. The twins were awake and wanting to crawl around, but there was only so much space in the compartment car. James, Rose, and Robert took turns walking a fussing baby up and down the length of the train, introducing the infant to cooing passengers who fawned over how beautiful she was. The passengers were extra delighted to realize they were identical twins.

Finally, the train docked in Glasgow, where the Tyler-McCrimmons picked up a rental vehicle and made the half-hour drive out of the city proper to the manor house.

The excitement at the prospect of permanently living in the “castle” evaporated Ainsley and Sianin’s travel exhaustion. As soon as James unlocked the front door, they bolted inside and began chattering to each other about where their playroom should be and calling dibs on the bedrooms.

“I want this one,” Sianin announced, gesturing to the master suite.

“That one is off-limits,” James said lightly, tweaking the end of her braid. “Available to mummies and daddies only. Same with the guest suite on the other side. That’s for when Gran or Grandad stay to visit.”

Sianin deflated a bit, but perked back up when James reminded her that there were plenty of other bedrooms to choose from.

Rose, meanwhile, immediately began to visualize how she would decorate. The current color scheme of the manor was dark, but not gloomily so. Even still, Rose thought that brightening the wall colors from burgundy to a rich cream or ivory would help open up the space and blend the rooms together. It would also make the house feel cleaner, and with five children tearing it apart, Rose knew she and James could use all the help they could get in that department.

The floors were in excellent shape, having been replaced shortly after Ainsley was born. Robert had come to her and James when he was having the work performed so they could help pick out the color and style of the various hardwood, tile, and carpeted floors in all of the rooms. Belatedly, Rose realized that Robert had done so because he knew this home would belong to them in the near future.

From the foyer, which was lit from the warm glow of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, Rose stared straight ahead into the formal dining room that used to be a ballroom; the kitchen extended beyond that through a set of wide oak doors that were currently closed. She already knew that the kitchen was huge and open, thanks to James’s grandmother having remodeled it to use up more of the defunct ballroom space. The kitchen housed a long table that would easily fit their large family; therefore, the formal dining room wouldn’t be necessary until they hosted holidays or had friends over. Otherwise, that could easily be a place for the children to do their homework.

To her right was what used to be a receiving room, but had evolved over the last century to be the living room. It was already furnished with a couch, a love seat, and a few reclining chairs placed strategically around a television. A fireplace sat along the far wall, and Rose could already see herself sitting in the rocking reclining chair and nursing her new baby, or snuggling with one of her other four children or husband as the fire crackled merrily beside them. Goosebumps prickled along Rose’s skin at the thought of her and James making love by the fireplace, a vision straight out of a Victorian romance novel.

Blinking away that fantasy for the time being, Rose continued her mental mapping of the manor. Behind the living room was another room that had been a different receiving room—most likely, she presumed, a space for the gentlemen when the ladies had overtaken the first receiving room. Because God forbid men enjoy their wives’ presence.

James’s parents had converted that into a study area for James; Rose thought it would make a nice playroom for their family. It had plenty of room to store the kids’ endless number of toys, and it had a closet where they could keep their games. The flooring in there was currently hardwood; Rose made a mental note to chat with James about replacing it with something softer.

Extending beyond the living room was a narrow hallway that opened up to what had once been servants’ quarters. Rose knew that James’s grandmother had remodeled it and created a larger footprint, converting the area into a spacious a guest suite; it was where Robert always slept when he visited, unable to stomach being in the master bedroom ever since he’d lost his wife.

To the left of the foyer was a long, wide corridor with several rooms branching off of it. One of those rooms was a library that Rose already knew Ainsley would practically make her second bedroom. Rose planned to outfit the room with a variety of comfortable furniture and a desk. Directly beside the library and connected with a door was a formal study; she figured James would like to make that his space, filling it with textbooks and knickknacks and turning it into a place he could mark papers and exams on the weekends or weeknights.

Directly beside the study and again connected through a set of doors was a secondary study. This one was at the end of the manor, and therefore had windows on the two external walls. It was filled with plenty of natural lighting and Rose thought it would make a perfect place for her to set up her art studio.

On the opposite side of the corridor from the library and studies were a series of small rooms. There was a half bath that was mostly just a closet with a toilet and a sink, and two small rooms that Rose genuinely didn’t know the purpose of. They were far too big to be closets, but a tad too small to be bedrooms. Rose didn’t care what they used to be; instead, she planned to make the rooms a nursery: one for the twins, until they were big enough for proper beds, and the other for the new baby. It would be perfect, since the last room at the end of the corridor was the master suite. 

Rose already knew the suite was enormous, yet it took her breath away to behold it. The room would easily fit their king-sized bed and all of their bedroom furniture, and still have room for more. Perhaps they could put a cushy rocking chair in this room as well as the nurseries; there could never be enough cozy furniture to cuddle her children, Rose thought.

There was a giant walk-in closet connected to the bedroom, as well as a double-vanity ensuite. The bathroom, too, was huge, outfitted with a tub and a walk-in shower stall; both the tub and shower had plenty of room for her and James to share, which would be perfect for intimate date nights.

Moving from room to room, Rose catalogued how she would arrange furniture and paint colors that would look good in each room and blend the entire ground floor of the house together. She took note of the flooring, and which rooms should be outfitted with carpets rather than hardwood floors or tile, or vice versa. When she and James helped Robert pick out the floors, they’d only had Ainsley; at the time, she hadn’t been able to imagine having five children. Now, she couldn’t imagine anything differently.

“I can see that beautiful mind of yours at work already.” James came up behind her as she weighed whether the library ought to be carpeted or left as it was with hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and casually splayed a palm on her lower belly, kissing the side of her neck and sending pleasant tingles across her skin. “What are you thinking?”

Rose leaned into him, tilting her head back to catch his gaze. His eyes were bright with joy and soft with love; she found herself falling in love with him all over again. She turned in his arms, draping her forearms over his shoulders.

“I’m thinking,” she murmured, pushing up onto her toes so that her mouth hovered mere inches from his, “that this already feels like home.”

And though she planted a kiss to his lips as she finished speaking, his answering smile was dazzling.

[buckyswinterbaby]

Always By My Side — Chapter 1

Click here to read the Prologue.

Synopsis: The fates have spent millenniums correcting the daily mishaps that interfere with soulmates ever meeting. Will they find a way to bring together Bucky and Zara, two people separated by time and circumstance, just as they’ve done a thousand times before?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!OFC Ziarah Heartwell

Warnings (will change with each chapter): flashbacks, PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault, angst, bits of fluff

Word Count: 3,791

Acknowledgement: I’ve created this AU alongside my best friend Taylor in roleplays, along with many of the plots and scenes that will be featured. I’m posting this with his expressed permission as we both continue to work on the story in our chat. Credit for its creation goes to both of us.

Please like, comment, and reblog (I love that shit). The divider was created by me, please credit me if you use it. The gifs are not mine. Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!

Note: Here’s chapter one of my new series “Always By My Side”. It takes place in a soulmate AU where a bond is triggered when one or both halves experience a life threatening level of distress. The bond allows them to see imaginary versions of their soulmates to help support them while they wait to meet their other half. Just a warning, up until we reach the current time in the story, there will be significant time skips for plot progression’s sake. The time changes will always be labeled.

Addition: I said I’d tag you when I posted my WOC OFC story so here’s chapter one, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer !

[Bucharest, Romania -- 2016]

The Romanian streets were bustling with early morning energy as Bucky took the final steps outside of the clearly worn apartment complex that he had been calling home for sometime. He seemed unfazed by the sixteen year old girl practically jogging to keep up in step with his longer strides. He had grown rather accustomed to her presence and her commentary since she first appeared to him in 2014. It had been during his final brainwashing session with Hydra before they fell. He couldn’t help but view her as a banshee of sorts, harkening the end of what remained of his mental stability. He couldn’t fathom another reason as to why he would hallucinate an opinionated teenage girl.

Even so, he found comfort in their conversations and how at ease she seemed around him. Almost as if she had always been with him, a piece of himself that still saw the good that was left. Never addressing him with fear or apprehension, never as the monster and killer he was forced to become.

Her features were young and innocent, seemingly unscarred by life despite the bruises that graced her skin--which he was never sure why they existed. At first, he feared that she had been one of his countless victims who had returned to haunt him in her afterlife, though the theory became less likely to him as more time passed.

The defined coils of her hair were pushed up into a messy bun, edges laid smoothly to her forehead in defined loops. When she first started showing up, Bucky had attempted to make sense of the witty phrases and references that so frequently adorned her clothes but he had long since given up on ever understanding them. He had to admit that the shirt she wore that day, a middle finger painted with pink, yellow, and blue, was quite the fashion choice. Not that he could particularly judge with his similar pieces of clothing that were practically identical besides in color.

The pair made their way down the familiar stretch of pavement on their way to the outdoor market that Bucky had made a habit of visiting. He had found that a reliable schedule throughout his week helped him better grasp the passing of time, a fact that his companion had been informing him of for weeks before it finally seemed to click.

The girl’s nose clinked as they neared the fresh fish stand, just as it did every week. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her childish antics as they were so few and far between for someone who seemed quite mature despite her appearance.

“It smells like cat food,” she whined, making a clear act of breathing primarily through her mouth as she jogged to keep up. “How are you not gagging?”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being a figment of someone’s imagination, Zara. If I start gagging, I have a feeling a few people will start to notice.” The man gave her a knowing look. Drawing attention to himself was the exact opposite of what he wanted during his brief outings. “Besides, I can’t say I’ve smelt cat food or have any intention to. So I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Zara rolled her eyes as the smell began to dissipate the further they moved past the stand, her trademark smile working its way onto her features. “Could’ve had me fooled, I thought that was your guilty pleasure. I can’t say I’ve ever intentionally gotten a whiff, but when I feed the outdoor cats at my house, it’s kinda unavoidable.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world for an imaginary person to have their own home and animals.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes down to her smaller form beside him. “You don’t have a cat because you aren’t even real,” he retorted. Somehow the idea that she could be real made her presence in his life even harder. The idea that she was just some girl he had passed by in the street or on a mission and his brain decided she’d make the ideal emotional support apparition.

“Who are you to declare that?”

“The creepy hundred year old man who hallucinates a sixteen year old girl, occasionally in her pajamas, for one.” His voice raised a bit louder than he intended, drawing the attention of a few nearby pedestrians. Bucky offered them an awkward smile before ducking back down under the bill of his hat and picking up his pace a bit. She couldn’t argue with his logic so she focused on keeping up until they reached their destination, the produce stand that had the best plums in the city, or so Bucky described.

Zara watched as he spoke Romanian with the merchant, only catching a few words she had learnt over the past few months from their conversations. She couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Bucky seemed to interact with the man and how it contrasted so starkly to how he acted when he first arrived in the city. Decades of next to no positive human interaction left the soldier awkward and clunky in his exchanges, often stumbling through questions and requests, or simply forgetting them altogether. It had taken a great deal of patience and metaphorical hand holding to build up his confidence and ease his anxiety on the matter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to blend in, in fact he was almost too good at it at times. Over their conversations, she had managed to show him that yes, blending in made him go through the motions of life, which was better than nothing. Yet, the beauty of his life now and the freedom that came with it was that he no longer had to settle for simply surviving and he could instead use it as a chance to learn to live again. It started small, like convincing him to get a pillow and blanket for the mattress on the floor, to which they compromised with a sleeping bag. Soon came two pillows for the couch and a lone floor lamp that he shoved in the corner near his bed for the late nights when night terrors had him scribbling away in his journals. They were minor improvements, in truth, but the progress spoke volumes as Bucky worked on building a place that felt a bit more permanent than his last few hideouts.

Zara had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even registered that Bucky completed his purchase and had moved to stand at the edge of the sidewalk. She approached him curiously, watching the way he hesitantly analyzed the seemingly anxious newspaper peddler from across the street. It was very clear something was wrong from the way his demeanor had changed.

“Buchanan?” Her voice raised a bit at the end of his name, concern now replacing her curiosity as he began to make his way to the stand. He either didn’t hear her--which she found unlikely--or he simply opted to ignore her as he picked up the paper, ocean blue eyes scanning over the headline. The color seemed to drain from both of their faces as they took the accusation in, not having to speak to know what it meant.

Bucky would have to pick up his life, yet again, and run. Find a new country, new home, and start the process all over again. The ex-assassin hardly seemed surprised at the realization, as there is no rest for the wicked.

[Boston, Massachusetts -- 2016]

Zara made her way down the hallway to her bedroom, an imaginary version of Bucky trailing along behind her. She let her book bag drop to the floor once she entered the room, stepping out of her shoes before flopping down onto the soft, sunflower themed duvet of her bed. A look of weightlessness overtook her features as she let the events of the day settle in. Today she would graduate with a PhD in Biomedical Engineering from MIT, top of her class. It was the culmination of years of pouring herself over every textbook her parent’s provided, testing out and early graduations. At only sixteen, Zara would join the ranks of some of the youngest individuals to ever receive a doctoral degree. It truly seemed unreal to her.

Emerald eyes drifted to where Bucky sat at her desk, his arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.

“I wish you could be there tomorrow,” Zara commented, propping herself up on her elbows as her fingers pulled at the frayed threads on the yellow quilt folded at the end of her bed.

A smile teased the corner of Bucky’s lips as he leaned back against her swivel chair, long hair swaying as he tilted his head to the left to look at her. “I will be there, maybe not in person, but I’ll be there cheering right along with everyone else,’ he assured.

“It’s not the same and you know it, Buchanan.”

“I know. Just try to focus on the positives. Tomorrow is your day, you’ve more than earned it.”

Zara nodded, though her disappointment was still evident. On the average day, Bucky’s seemingly invisible presence to everyone else but her came in handy. As she was willing to bet her parents wouldn’t be too keen on the amount of time she spent alone with the grown man, let alone if they knew who he was. The public’s perception of James Buchanan Barnes, who she had quickly identified him as, was low to say the very least. Though it was days like this that she found herself wishing the most that he could truly exist in her life outside of her mind.

She could never quite pinpoint why she began hallucinating him two years prior. Though, the time before and after her fourteenth birthday had flown by in a post traumatic daze so it was even more difficult to analyze. The aftermath of four older boys assaulting her in her own bedroom left her wishing to repress that portion of her life altogether. Zara squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the ghost of their hands on her body. Grabbing, groping, pulling and tearing at clothes. She had hardly seen them since their attack but her mind was still trapped in the room with them.The feeling took her back to meeting Bucky that night, or more so the Winter Soldier, as he appeared at that time.

Upon entering her room, Zara failed to notice the masked man sitting silently in the corner of the room, illuminated only by the small lamp on her bedside stand. When she caught a glimpse of the figure, her body jumped to it’s fight response, just as it had an hour or so before. The young girl grabbed the closest thing she could find, a textbook on advanced chemistry, and held onto it tightly before turning to face the intruder.

“You need to leave,” she ordered, her voice wavering at the end of the demand. Her green eyes only met a pair of dark glasses securely strapped to his face. She couldn’t make out any facial features to identify him by, as all but his forehead and hair was covered.

It wasn’t just his silence that sent an unnerved shiver down her spine. It was his demeanor, cold and nearly unresponsive to her presence and defensive stance. Had his head not briefly turned her way when she started to speak, she’d question if he even heard her at all.

A large gun, likely a rifle from what she could tell, was resting across his lap. His hands weren’t actively gripping it, but something told her he could take aim in the time it took her to breathe her next breath. A variety of handguns and knives were also visible from the holsters adorning his thighs. If he had this many weapons visible, Zara could only imagine how many he had stashed under his tactical vest and heavy boots.

Her green eyes followed where she believed his gaze had drifted. He seemed laser focused on the strip of light just barely visible from under her door as a roar of laughter could be heard from just outside. His hand moved to rest just over the barrel of his gun. The young girl analyzed him for another moment before lowering the textbook, while still keeping it tightly in her hands.

“Will you at least tell me why you’re here?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, one that vocalized all of the fear she had been trying to hide. She was met with more silence, which quickly became deafening to her. She was afraid to make a move to get his attention again, naturally unsure of how he would react. Yet, at the same time she couldn’t relax, not with him in her space.

After another few moments of no response, she allowed herself to consider the possibility that he wasn’t actually there. She had just been through something horribly traumatic and it was entirely possible that this was her brain's way of coping with the stress and fear. That it had conjured some masked figure to sit at her bedroom door and keep all the bad away.

She knew how best to test her theory, but she recognized the risk that came with it as she picked up a neon pink highlighter that she had been using earlier that night. She gripped it for a moment while weighing her options, throwing it across the room only seconds later. She didn’t put too much force behind it, hoping that if it gently came into contact, he’d be less likely to be angry. The consideration meant very little as the marker passed straight through the man and knocked against the wall before falling to the floor. She watched as it rolled across the floor and disappeared underneath her nearby dresser, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. On one hand, he wasn’t real and couldn’t hurt her. On the other, she was truly alone and definitely going crazy.

“This is fine,” Zara tried to reassure herself with very little luck.

She was pulled back from her thoughts as Bucky called her name for the third time, snapping her back to reality. Their eyes connected for a moment as she attempted to ground herself again, focusing on the small changes between how he was now versus then.

He had since lost the mask and goggles, she remembered him removing them a month or so after he first appeared. His current casual attire contrasted starkly with the hard kevlar of the tactical vest she first met him in. His features were more at ease now, no longer reflecting the fear that she could only compare to an animal in captivity. While she wasn’t fond of the comparison, following what she had learned of the real James Barnes, it wasn’t entirely far off.

As if the world was reading her mind, she faintly heard the voice of the local news anchor from the living room directly below her bedroom. Her features scrunched as she focused in on hearing the report, only catching snippets here and there. The words explosion and Sokovia Accords were most of what she could make out along with what she could’ve sworn was the suspect’s name, James Buchanan Barnes.

Before Zara could even question it further, she found herself racing down the main staircase of their suburban home, sock clad feet skidding to a halt on the polished dark oak flooring. Her eyes widened as she took in the security camera footage that was believed to place Bucky near the scene of the crime. Despite having no real proof, something deep within her gut screamed that it wasn’t true. She knew him, maybe not the real version, but he’d never do that.

Imaginary Bucky followed her into the living room a minute later, his pace slow and relaxed in comparison as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Being held responsible for the most recent atrocity was honestly just beginning to feel like the average Tuesday to him. More than anything, it was Zara’s reaction that took him the most by surprise. Her unwavering faith and loyalty was unexpected and as he believed, undeserved.

He had committed unspeakable acts over the years and this was likely far from the worst he was accused of. Sure, they had grown close in the two years since he first appeared and he imagined that made it easier for her to block out the rest of the stories, since she knew at least some version of the person in question.

Zara was good, in every sense of the word. Of course she had flaws, but who didn’t, especially at sixteen. But he saw the way that she looked at the world with love and curiosity despite the violence and violations she had experienced. It was a strength of character that he truly wished he could grow to embody. Bucky couldn’t help but find it funny that he was left looking up to a teenager who hadn’t even passed her driver’s test yet; but she honestly had more morals and heart than most of the adults he had met in his life. All of those facts being true is what made her belief in his innocence all the more confusing.

His eyes fell to her father, Gabriel, as he sat on the couch to take in the evening news. The man’s head shook in what seemed to be disappointment, or maybe it was anger, Bucky honestly couldn’t be sure anymore. They had never spoken, as Bucky’s intangible form made communication with anyone other than Zara impossible, but he knew Gabriel was a black and white kind of person. He couldn’t help but accept that to anyone who didn’t know him, the evidence would be damning.

“They need to just put him down while they have the chance,” Gabriel scoffed, speaking to no one in particular while switching the flatscreen off before they could finish the broadcast.

“He’s not a wild animal to be euthanized.” Zara’s expression twisted in disgust at her father’s casual nature. “He’s a human being. If he's guilty, and that’s a really big if with how blurry that security footage is, he deserves a trial just like anyone else!”

Gabe turned to look over the back of the couch, clearly displeased that she would defend the man. “I’m in no mood to debate with you, Ziarah.” He rose from his seat and dropped the remote onto the foot stool before leaving towards his study.

Zara watched him leave, her eye practically twitching with each step he took. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, to make him see that there were likely more sides to the story than they were seeing but she knew that it was useless. Her father rarely took her opinions or beliefs to heart on things that actually mattered to him, a topic like this would truly be a lost cause.

She looked up at Bucky as he shook his head lightly, letting her tension fade away as she accepted that it was pointless. “It’s okay, Zar,” Bucky assured, his small smile wiping away any lingering doubts she had. “There are more important battles to pick with him. This isn’t a hill worth dying on.”

Zara would’ve liked to argue that defending her friend was more than a worthy cause but she nodded nonetheless.

“How about we go find your mom. I bet she’s already working on the cake for your graduation and knowing you, you can convince her to let you lick the spoon.” His tone was playful as he coaxed her into motion, the promise of sweets and a friendly face luring her into the kitchen behind him.

Hanna was busy mixing away the different batters she would need for the next tier, the sweet aroma of baked goods filling the air. She hummed lightly as she worked, creating her own personal mix of her favorite 80’s songs together in a unique medley. Her green eyes moved to the doorway as she heard Zara walk in, a bright smile overtook her features as she set down her mixing bowl.

“There’s my little scholar,” she praised, moving around the kitchen island to take her daughter into her arms. Her warm embrace was a welcomed escape as Zara melted.

“Momma,” Zara grumbled as her mother placed a series of kisses on her forehead. “I thought you stopped doing that since I was a baby.” While Zara whined, deep down she always loved her mother’s open displays of affection. Not that she was willing to admit it.

“That’s the beauty of you always being my baby. You’re never too old for me to embarrass you. Just be grateful that I’ve opted to do it now instead of at your party.” The woman grinned away as she moved back to her work.

Zara honestly couldn’t argue with the logic as she found a seat on one of the tall bar stools. She quickly lost herself in the pleasant conversion with her mother, happily opting to clean the excess batter and frosting off of the bowls and mixing spoons like the helpful child she was. Imaginary Bucky sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching the women as they fell into the usual banter and discussion. After they finished her conversation she quickly grabbed a snack and made her way towards the door.

“I believe you’re forgetting something,” Hanna reminded, sending Zara a knowing look.

She huffed lightly before turning on her heels to grab her blood testing and insulin kit, waving it at her mother knowingly. She quickly turned back around and left the kitchen, making her way back upstairs.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow after her, stopping only when he saw Zara staring in her old room, which now housed her older brother Daniel. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she ran over the events that more often than not had her scurrying past said room without acknowledging it. It was easier to just pretend it didn’t exist.

A few more moments passed before Zara pulled herself back from the darker parts of her mind, focusing in on everything else in her life that was good and worth celebrating. She had known pain and a time in her life where she often considered if it would’ve been easier to just fade away, but she had made it through to the other side. She had a lot going for her now and that was enough to push her feet forward again.

Chapter 2

[introductions-are-a-spook]

Tag list: @kyuudomo @kissthe-gogoat @caloroso-cosmos @omrade-echorin < You said you like the last one so added you. Let me know if you’re okay with that, and sorry if not!

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off. Reblogs and feedback always appreciated!

Fifty miles from the Chapman house and twenty years ago, rain fell over an English boarding school. Children ran from building to building, clutching their bags under hunched chests in an attempt to protect them.

Visible through a window, one student sat huddled on a library bench, nose deep in a book. And of course they didn’t see through their concentration to the rambunctious upperclassman arguing with the librarian.

“I told you before, my father tore the book, not me. I can get the money to pay for it, it’ll just take a couple days!”

“That’s ridiculous. Just why in the world would a parent do that, hmm?”

“You obviously don’t know him like I do,” he snipped under his breath.

After a moment more of this, he sauntered over to where the bookworm- maybe a grade or two below him, sat. Flopping down, he groaned.

Finally the quiet one spoke. “Mrs. Kingsley’s going to wring your neck if you don’t replace the book soon, you know.”

“Yeah, I get it already. Geez.” The older boy looked at the younger with a raised eyebrow. “Hey I know you, you’re in my chemistry class. Mary, right?”

“Er, it’s Maxwell. And yes, what about it?”

“Isn’t that a bit too hard for you? You’re what, twelve?”

“Fourteen. You?”

“Aww, a little shrimp. I’m seventeen. Andrew, by the way,” although teasing, his tone lacked any genuine malice. He held out a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, prick.”

Andrew laughed. “Damn right. Whatcha reading?”

Maxwell tilted the book. A collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. “I want to be a detective when I get out of school, so I’m studying now.”

“That’s cool. We better get to class though, the bell’s gonna ring soon,” Andrew said, standing up and checking his watch.

Maxwell reluctantly closed his book and nodded. “Just try to pay for the book soon, okay? Mrs. Kingsley isn’t the only one who cares about this library.”

“Oh sure. I’ll just steal the money from my dad while he’s at church or something,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Nice meeting you, Maxwell!”

“Same here. Criminal!”

Andrew laughed and walked off. Maxwell allowed a chuckle as he went the opposite way.

~*~

Six pictures were laid out in front of Andrew. All of various bedrooms. Half he recognized- Maxwell’s, Isabella’s, and his own. The other three varied. There was a rather plain, maroon themed bedroom with several camera monitors in one corner. Another was coated wall-to-wall in weapons and a bright scarlet palette. The last of which was more pink and the most homely, with picture frames full of people everywhere. All belonging to Maxwell’s siblings, most likely.

And yet, Andrew was not confused. In fact, he was quite disturbed. He sat with his ferret, Brie, in his arms, petting her in an attempt to calm down.

He had finally worked up the courage to read the letter. Mr. Antigone had left a graphic plan of all the horrible things he would do if Andrew didn’t leave Maxwell as soon as possible. He detailed all the ways he could get away with it, and included the pictures as proof of his deadly seriousnessand capability.

Well if he hasn’t killed me yet, it probably means he wants me alive. He must be trying to beat me into submission.

What a mess. Within just a few weeks of going out with Max, Andrew’s world had turned upside down. Of all the people in the world, he had to fall in love with a detective.

A knock at the downstairs door stirred him. Quietly putting Brie in her pen, he cursed himself for not burning the letter as told. Walking down to the front on tiptoe, he slipped a kitchen knife into his pocket- just in case.

Another knock. Andrew took a deep breath, prepared for the worst, and opened the door.

“Maxwell! Oh, it’s just you, thank god,” he sighed in relief.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “Of course it’s me, who else would it be?” He cut Andrew off before he could respond. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”

A twinge of fear settled in Andrew’s gut. “About what? Is everything okay?”

“Given that you feel the need to answer the door with a knife in your coat,” he gestured to how poorly it was hidden, “No, things are far from okay.”

Andrew studied Maxwell’s face. His handsome features were pulled into a grave expression, his demeanor uncomfortable.

“Why don’t you come in,” Andrew said, holding the door ajar for the other man.

“Thank you,” Maxwell responded, sitting down at an empty booth in the main shop. Andrew sat down across from him, and they sat in silence for a long few moments.

Maxwell slowly tapped his thumbs together. Andrew could see how his eyes faded in deep thought.

“Andrew.”

“Yes?”

“Are you…” he took a shaky breath. “No. I know you’re the thief.”

Andrew’s stomach flipped, but he calmed himself. “You’re good. Guilty as charged. Is this my day of reckoning, then?” His tone was bitter, almost scared.

For the first time since arriving, Maxwell looked Andrew directly in the eye. “I have an idea.”

“You didn’t answer my question, but go on,” he said with a dry chuckle.

“Tell me, who is Nikos Antigone?”

Andrew stood up suddenly. “What do you mean, has he contacted you? Have you met him?”

“So you do know him. He sent me a letter- or, as it turns out, two letters. The first ‘anonymously’ telling me to run away from you, the second saying that you robbed him. Tell me, have you ever used violence in your hijinks?”

“I don’t know how much you’ll believe me, but no, I haven’t.”

“I figured as much. So it was Antigone that broke your nose a couple weeks back?”

Andrew hesitated. Was this an interview? But Maxwell seemed so genuinely worried. “Yeah, basically.”

“I’m very sorry,” he said, brushing a finger over the bridge that was still sore. Andy winced slightly, causing Max to draw his hand away.

“I’m not going to turn you in. I want to help, but to do that, I need answers. Could you tell me more?” He was now surprisingly soft.

So with a heavy sigh, Andrew spilled his guts about everything, even ousting Isabella’s involvement in the process. He also provided some insight on Jennifer. She was the daughter of a nobleman, one that rudely broke off dealings with the Antigone family’s crime loop, when she was just a baby.

Despite this, all four of them had attended the same school without realizing. She and the young Nikos were the best of friends, before they all went their separate ways, and Nikos followed in his family’s footsteps. Andrew was doing jobs for him simply to make him money and to be a jewel in his crown.

“You won’t have to be for long. If we can find a way to get him in the wrong place at the wrong time, we can pin all of your wrongdoings on him.”

“Maxwell, no. You could lose your job if you did that!”

“I’m more than willing-“

“And besides, I’m the one at the wheel, I should take the blame-“

“You think I haven’t shuffled blame before? You know neither of us have ever cared about morals and virtue.”

“That may be true, but this is still a huge risk. One I’m not willing to let you take for me!”

“Well too bad, because I refuse to allow you to keep on like this. If you don’t let me help, I’ll find a way to do something on my own.”

“Max, what the hell has gotten into you? Why can’t you let me sort out my own problems- or just throw me in jail already?”

“Because I love you, you nitwit!”

There was a long, charged silence. The tension of argument melted away, leaving something else entirely in its place.

“I… I think I love you too. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You have no idea the things this guy will do to you.”

Max held Andy’s hand, up on the table. “You’re right, I don’t. But I know with our combined minds, we can outsmart him.”

Andrew took a deep, shuddering breath. “Do you really think so?”

Maxwell nodded. “The Antigone family has done enough damage. It’s about time someone put a stop to it. I only have one condition.”

“That being?”

“For both of our sakes, you need to drop your game. Once Nikos is in prison, well…”

Andrew nodded and pondered for a moment. “I’d need something else after the fact- to keep me entertained. But yes, for you, I will.”

“Then our plot can be your last heist. Any ideas as to a replacement?”

“You could marry me, and we could run away together. Be musicians in Vienna till’ we’re old,” Andy smirked.

Max giggled. “Ask me again in three years.”

And then he gave Andy the most lovestruck look. Andy returned it. They glanced at their pose- they were awfully close.

“I’d ask if I could kiss you, but there’s a table in the way,” Andy whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Just get over here, you,” Max then pulled a laughing Andy by his tie to the nearest wall, moving close, only to be stopped.

“Hang the hell on, you’re the short one, shouldn’t you be the one-“

Max swatted Andy’s arm. “Oh, shut up.” And with that, they finally closed the gap.

Andy smelled like fresh cakes, and Max like old books. Where the thief tasted like strawberries, the detective was like tea with milk; both felt like smooth butter.

Andy’s arms were strong as he lifted Max and held him so close. They stood like that for a long time, pausing only to dash upstairs. Andrew had only one thought before his mind went blank with bliss.

Antigone thinks he can use me as a puppet. Poor man has no idea what he’s messing with.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 12 of 26

Title: A Wizard of Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #1) (1968)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Third-Person

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 5/6/2021

Date Finished: 5/12/2021

Ged is a talented young magician with incredible potential-- possibly greater than any before him. He sets off to join the wizarding School of Roke, and quickly surpasses all of his peers. But in an act of arrogance, Ged tries to bring back the dead to impress a rival student. He unleashes a malevolent shadow upon the world, leaving him traumatized and permanently scarred. 

Soon Ged finds himself hunted by the shadow wherever he goes. None of his magic seems to work on it. Worse, he lives in fear that if the dark creature overtakes him, it will use his body as a weapon to harm others. Ged journeys from island to island in an attempt to find the solution and banish the shadow once and for all. 

Only in silence the word, only in dark the light,  only in dying life:  bright the hawk’s flight  on the empty sky. 

Content warnings and some spoilers below the cut. 

Content warnings for the book: Violence and death, including child death and animal death. Traumatic injury. 

As a fiction writer, Ursula K. Le Guin is best known for her Earthsea series, but I haven’t read them until now. She had a big impact on my childhood via a series of picture books called Catwings (they're... about a family of cats who can fly). As an adult, I’ve grown more intrigued as I've learned about Le Guin’s philosophies, especially anticapitalism. I read her famous horror story The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas last year and found it unsettling and thought-provoking. So I decided to read some of her longer works! And, of course, speculative fiction is always the way to my heart. My wonderful sister gave me the first four books of Earthsea for the holidays last year, and I’m finally getting the chance to read them. 

Overall I had a good time with A Wizard of Earthsea. It’s structured differently than a lot of fantasy novels I’ve read. While there is a big overarching plot, the individual chapters usually have their own complete story arc. It’s the type of book where you can read one chapter before bed and feel like you got a whole story; each part advances the main narrative while also providing a complete side adventure. 

There’s a lot of travel in A Wizard of Earthsea due to the setting. Earthsea is a giant, possibly world-spanning archipelago, meaning there’s a ton of islands, each of which has its own way of life. The conflict naturally has Ged travel from island to island and interact with various peoples and creatures. The closest comparison I can think of is The Odyssey, and I’d be shocked if Le Guin didn’t draw inspiration from that. Both stories involve the protagonist traveling by sea and meeting a variety of characters and mythological creatures through smaller, discrete conflicts and interactions. Usually I find long travel sequences boring, but in this case they were one of my favorite parts of the book. There’s always a sense of anticipation on where Ged’s journey will take him next. 

The magic system is also is pretty cool. The idea is that all parts of nature, from humans to goats to oceans, have hidden “true” names. Knowing something (or someone’s) true name gives one power over it (or them). Thus wizards use true names to manipulate nature; giving another person your true name is an act of absolute trust and devotion. However, a big theme of the book is equilibrium. One must always be aware of potential consequences when using magic. Changing the wind in one part of the world could cause a devastating storm one island over. Sort of a butterfly effect type thing. 

Even though violence is one of my content warnings, I’m impressed that Le Guin largely circumvents it in the story. In many fantasy stories, a wizard/mage character uses their magic to fight and crush their foes. Not so much in this novel. While Ged clashes with various entities through the story, he usually just outsmarts them. Thus his showdown with a big, fuck-off dragon boils down to Ged guessing its true name and telling it to leave. Antagonists are usually the ones instigating violence. 

One thing I found odd about the pacing of the book is it slowed down a lot in the last few chapters. There’s a big action sequence with serious consequences around the novel’s midpoint, but everything after that is slower and more reflective. On a surface reading level, I’m not sure I liked this. I’m used to stories ramping up the tension more and more until the end. However, I did like the climax itself, when Ged reveals the shadow’s true name. The central moral of the novel is that one needs to accept everything about themselves, including their past mistakes. Everyone has a dark side, which ties into the central theme of balance, and even the opening poem of the novel (which I used as the excerpt for this review). It’s a pretty universal idea, but Le Guin presents it in a thematically satisfying way. 

I tagged this as a Young Adult novel because Le Guin wrote it for a teenage audience. YA didn’t exist as its own genre at the time, but A Wizard of Earthsea is a coming of age story (a staple of YA), and even has a moral message of sorts at the end. However, sometimes it’s really obvious that it’s intended for a younger audience. As I get older, I’ve noticed that YA tends to be pretty blunt about its meaning and symbolism in a way adult novels aren’t. For example, while pursuing the shadow, Ged gets lost in a mysterious fogbank. To me this was a clear callback to the first chapter, where Ged outsmarts a band of barbarians by trapping them in a fog. But Le Guin also made sure to tell me several pages later, in case I missed the parallel. I’m torn on this when reading YA. While I’m not the intended audience, I feel this approach underestimates teenagers’ ability to critically examine a text. But YA teaches many how to view things that way, so I see why authors do it. Teens aren’t a monolith, but it is interesting to see this tendency to over-explain in a novel from 50+ years ago. 

A Wizard of Earthsea is surprisingly progressive in many respects. Perhaps the most obvious is race. Ged and most of the main cast are explicitly nonwhite and described as such in the text. This isn’t a huge revelation in 2021, but it’s amazing to see something like that in a mainstream fantasy novel from 1968. Apparently Le Guin struggled with publishers for a long time, as many early covers whitewashed Ged for the sake of “sales” until she gained more creative control. And the (shitty) film/TV adaptations of Earthsea are just as guilty. I went through a LOT of covers while researching this book, and even newer editions often opt for heavily stylized art, nonhuman subjects, etc. The cover I chose is from 1984, when Le Guin presumably had more influence on Ged’s portrayal. I’m interested to see how past book covers stack up when I deep dive on the other books. 

However, I found the book to be not so progressive when it came to gender roles (I know, I wasn’t expecting that either). Le Guin makes it very clear that all the famous and powerful wizards/mages in Earthsea are dudes. The wizard school toward the beginning is all dudes. All the adventurers and sailors in the story are dudes. Ged himself makes some pretty sexist comments (though to be fair, that was pre-character development). There are relatively few female characters in the story, and many are either bit parts or (in one case) a seductive, power-hungry villain. Portraying sexism in a fantasy setting isn’t an inherently bad thing. Jemisin’s Dreamblood duology, which I read earlier this year, introduced stringent gender roles in order to explore the insidious nature of misogyny. But A Wizard of Earthsea doesn’t really go beneath the surface level. Yarrow is probably the most well-written female character in the story, and she only shows up in the last few chapters. Again, I’m interested to see how Le Guin handles this in later entries; the next book stars a female protagonist and Ged’s the deuteragonist. 

I liked A Wizard of Earthsea overall, and I think it serves as a good introduction to both the series and a central recurring character. While I have some criticisms of the first book, I do realize it’s a relatively early work of Le Guin’s. The last novel in this series was published in 2001, so I’m interested to see how the characters and writing changed over 30+ years.