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#<- sure he can get his own tag too i guess. dickhead
corpsoir · 2 years
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pov youve been polluting the ocean for your own profit and now two 20 year olds are about to fuck you up
lore dump about this au under the cut lol some day i will write something properly!! also dont even mind the fact that solvei's hair gets bigger all the time. she's older here i'll blame it on that, she lets it grow out a bit
wow ok i gotta dump a bunch of lore from the story i've got going on in my mind with this au lol
also thank you izzy for that very awesome idea of the antagonist having a polluting stand thats literally SUCH good idea ok. im obsessed with it.
so, some of you who have read the lore about skagen know he nearly drowned as a kid but got caught on a fisherman's hook and thats how he got the fucked up eye and scar.
well in this au, the hook he was using is one that he found washed up on a beach. he doesnt really know or understand why he felt compelled to use that hook; it looked really old and kinda useless compared to his modern ones. it was made out of something that looked like bone, and when he touched it, to his surprise it was still extremely sharp; sharp enough to poke through his skin and make him bleed. without really thinking about it he set out to go fishing and thats when he caught skagen on his hook, saving him from almost drowning yadda yadda.
what the fisherman didnt realise until later is that the hook awakened stands in both him and skagen.
years later,  authorities are noting a quick decline in the local marine wildlife on the swedish west coast. after testing the water they also notice an absurd amount of pollutants in the water. local fishers are forced to go out further with their vessels in order to even be able to catch anything that isnt completely full to the brim with plastics or half dead from oil. the weird thing is, nobody has really seen any oil spills in the area. nobody has reported anything about it either.
but there is one fisherman who still manages to sell quite a bit, and he quickly becomes someone that everyone on the islands know about. after all hes pretty much the only one that keeps fishing in the same waters and seemingly has no problem despite the worsening conditions of the ocean.
fish, birds, seals keep washing up dead on the beaches and it eventually becomes a huge problem and people are concerned for not only the wildlife's health but also the humans.
skagen and his parents are not being able to catch or sell anything, and people are slowly beginning to turn their eyes towards the lone fisherman that doesnt seem to have any problem. most people accuse him of simply being a dickhead who sells sick poisoned fish to people without caring for anyone elses health, however skagen gets an odd feeling every time he passes him by the docks, like something is tugging at his very soul. he tells solvei about this, and while she doesnt get him she of course trusts him. the two of them decide to confront him one evening at the docks when the fisherman is returning back after a day at sea. the second solvei (in her kinda intense and eager way) starts questioning him, he gets his fishing rod out and immediately attacks her by throwing the hook at her face. it gets caught under her chin, slicing the skin from chin to lip. the fisherman flees on his boat, like a coward. skagen brings out his stand förutan vind on pure instinct and sits down to helps solvei stop the bleeding, but as he does, he turns to watch the fisherman leave. they both lock eyes, and skagen can see the fisherman also has a stand. he slowly starts to connect the dots of the entire archipelagos situation from the last couple of years.
and so solvei develops and stand as well, which is called sunnanvind! my idea with her stand is that it can heat the air and create mirages, but heating the air also means it can create deadly temperatures in a small given area. it also uses its "tail" to attack on a shorter range, kind of whipping its enemy like a thresher shark does to its prey.
OH AND ALSO. förutan vinds ability! in typical jojo fashion none of it makes sense irl but whatever. it can basically force the winds into meeting and cancel each other out, essentially "freezing" the air in place. when it does this it can basically hit pause on the air, that includes the air in peoples lungs, including skagens lungs. the area of effect on this ability is 5m from the stand, so whenever skagen uses this ability he has to move out of the way. this ability is also limited to roughly 2 minutes before it tires skagen out too much. other than this ability, it can redirect and force winds in whatever direction it needs to, enabling him to sail even when there is no natural wind. because han kan segla förutan vind >:)
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snowblossomreads · 6 months
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Day 12: A Missing Gift (Missing Star + Giver of Gifts)
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Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Amiee Huang (OC)
Summary: In where Amiee plays hostess to a party while Sinclair is missing. She learns later why he was gone for so long.
Tag(s)/Warning(s): mean jokes, defending loved one, kissing, hidden relationships, food(lots of food), gift giving, feelings of unworthiness, fluff and love!
Word Count: 5.4K (Sinclair's getting spoiled I know 😌)
A/N: Heheh so this story takes place before the events of The Art of Entangled Hearts which ,you can read here (come on i know u want to read it) . This little fic is just sweet fluff between these two and a little surprise awaits at the ending 🥹.
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or dead is just coincidence 🤣🤣 (it's not) Enjoy lovelies!
There were about 15 or so people, including Amiee, mingling in the spacious living room of Sinclair's flat, which resided on one of the top floors, in a luxury apartment building, in Manchester's city centre. All sorts of folks from work had come to the little, or more accurately rather larger dinner party he was throwing for the upcoming holidays, ready to gossip and drink fancy wine and champagne till their heads spun.
It was the weekend after all, and why not indulge, especially if you weren't paying for it. Most of the people there were from different departments though, she recognised two or three of them from her own. She was sure that they knew Sinclair, as everyone who ever met him could attest that he was hard to forget, and even harder to avoid once he took a liking to you.
Speaking of Sinclair.
"Amiee where'd ya say our office puppy went to?" Millie, who she had learned was a lawyer for the company asked as she sat down next to Amiee with a drink in hand. "I know he has a habit of being late, but to his own party? That's a new one even for him!"
"Honestly he's hopeless when it comes to time management, it's the reason he's always in the office so late sometimes," Amiee mused as she took a sip of her own drink. "He said he had some last minute things he needed to pick up and then left me to supervise if he didn't get back on time."
"Oh of course he would! Men I swear," she snickered, though there was amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Well, it's not too bad of a mess. I mean there're drinks and some amusing company I guess. Though, I wonder what's got him so tied up. Maybe he's gone back to the office?"
"Haha, I don't mind.” She actually did mind, even if it was just a little bit, but that wasn’t the point. “And I doubt it. Sinclair wouldn't miss a party, especially his party. He enjoys the company too much," Amiee continued as she fell into a comfortable conversation with the lady. "But," she added, covering the side of her face, and leaning over like she was telling a secret to Millie who was also leaning in to hear. "If he doesn't show up soon I'm liable to just start eating the food without him. I'm starving!"
Both women let out a laugh drawing a pair of eyes towards them.
"Be careful," Millie snorted bringing her drink to her lips. "That's probably a sackable offence when it comes to him. Can you imagine him coming back and all the food is gone?"
"It'll drive him mad for sure! I'm pretty sure we be his mortal enemies if we ever did that!" Amiee cackled doubling over in laughter at the thought of Sinclair marching everyone out of his flat because they had eaten all the food.
It was honestly easier to imagine than one would think considering who they were talking about. That man took his meals seriously!
"A sackable offence to who? Who are we talking about ladies?"
The voice of a man interrupted the two women, who looked up to see a red-faced middle aged man approach them and before he got near, Amiee could hear Millie hiss a soft,
"Not this dickhead." Before leveling a nasty glare at him.
He was a bit wobbly on his feet as he waddled up to them, and it was clear he was going to need to be cut off from the drinks soon in case he got too plastered before dinner was served.
"Bugger off won't you Williams? Can't you see me and our hostess are talking?"
As if he didn't hear her, Williams, whom Amiee didn't know, yet already disliked immensely, seemed to ignore the request to leave them alone, instead doing his best to join the conversation he wasn't wanted in.
"Aw come on Mills be nice," he crooned causing the blond woman's face to twist in disgust at the nickname as she looked away from the man. "Amiee isn't it! Still no sign of our friend Sinclair huh? Chaps probably lost somewhere staring at some billboard that's got him interested. Sometimes I don't think that man is all that there," Williams thought out loud as he tried to sit in the small space between the woman.
This only caused him to almost sit on Amiee's lap causing her to yelp and scoot to the opposite side of the sofa but not without her snapping at him with a,
"Hey watch it!"
"Sorry as I was saying," he continued, not paying any mind to the women who clearly did not want him to be there. "Brilliant at numbers but he's kind of odd fellow don't you think. Talkative too."
"Is that what we are calling people who are interested in a lot of things now? Because honestly I rather be friends with someone like that. Even if he is talkative, at least he has something of value to say, unlike some people," Amiee spat, still annoyed at the sudden appearance of the man and, the apparent audacity he had to insult Sinclair in his own home.
"Millie, what do you think?"
"Oh, absolutely. There's never a dull moment when Sinclair is around though," Millie paused to give the unwelcome guest a dirty look that was clearly telling him to piss off yet he stayed. "I can't say the same when it comes to some people."
The man seemed to be unaware he was nearing dangerous territory with the thinly veiled insults that he was hurling at Sinclair. And if he wasn't, well it was about to be made clear that he had overstepped.
"I mean he's a fine man, brilliant. But you have to agree he's a bit, I don't know, he seems off his rocker sometimes when he starts rambling about all those facts up in his head. It’s bloody weird!"
This had Amiee glaring at the man fiercely as he seemed to have realized what he said had crossed a line.
"No, I don't agree actually!" Amiee seethed lowly, her face hot from anger and her cheeks flushed, but not from the drinks.
Her ferocity seemed to catch both Millie and Williams off guard and had anyone else heard her, she was sure it would have caught them off guard to.
"It's fine if you don't like him, but if you're going to just insult him in his flat, at his party why even show up! If it bothers you so much, how about buggering off like you were asked to. And preferably out of here altogether."
Everyone seemed petrified for a moment as they all took in the way she had just told this man off. Someone she didn't know but already never wanted to meet again, especially with how he talked about Sinclair, who was goodness personified to her.
He had flaws like any other human being, but she wasn't going to stand for someone, especially someone supposedly on good terms with him to speak about him like that. Drunk or not.
The air was a bit tense between the three, but it seemed like luck was on their side in a manner of speaking because not seconds later, the door to the flat opened, and Sinclair was walking in with a few shopping bags in hand and a grin.
"And look everyone it's the man of the hour," Amiee cheered as she jumped from her seat to get away from the uncomfortable situation, leaving Williams confused and Millie hiding her laughter behind her glass.
"Sorry sorry hello everyone! I got caught in traffic trying to get back with some more food and stuff for us!" Sinclair explained enthusiastically as he made his way into the flat, shutting the door with his foot and greeting everyone. "I should have known I get back late, but that just means everyone is already here!"
Amiee smiled as she approached him, happy he was still in his cheerful mood even with the delay, and with all the alcohol in people's blood, they seemed to just be happy he was here. With food of course.
Finding her in the small crowd, Sinclair seemed to brighten up even more as he walked over to her while boisterously announcing,
"Also everyone say thank you to Amiee as the unwilling hostess! She's wonderful to put up with me and my demands."
Her heart leapt, and she felt herself become instantly shy when he said that. The urge to ball up a little was strong as the attention turned to her for a few seconds when a chorus of thank you's and laughter filled the air.
Mortifying wasn't the right word, but she did feel self-conscious as she nodded and gave a little wave and smile to everyone. A soft 'you're welcome' left her before Sinclair was swooped in.
"Dinner in about 30 minutes! Hopefully faster though because I'm starving! I'm stealing Amiee away for help seeing she's already done a brilliant job at keeping you lot entertained. It's a hard chore!"
There was more laughter at his announcement, as he took Amiee by the hand and began to drag her away from the party. She happily let him to, ready to get a break from the crowd of people, and that one twat.
Dragging her down the hall and into the kitchen where they could only hear the chatter faintly along with the low music that had been playing, Sinclair kept his boyish grin as he put the bags of food on the counter before turning to the woman.
"Sinclair that Williams or whatever his name is an arsehole," she stated plainly when he looked at her, not giving him time to tell her how pretty she looked with her outfit.
She must have changed when he left as she was now wearing a festive-looking red jumper blouse with a cowl neckline, along with a red headband that was adorned with a bow in her hair. Speaking of her hair, it had some more volume than it usually did which also looked quite good.
‘So cute.’  He mused in his head as he watched her brows furrow waiting for his response.
"Oh from the advisory board?" He asked nonchalantly as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her waist to hug her against him. She let out a hum as she hugged him back and deflated a bit in his arms already tired from a night that had only begun. "Oh, he's alright. He speaks his mind a lot even if it isn't the most popular thing. I think it's good to have different opinions even if they aren't said nicely. Though I do prefer them put in nicer ways no need to be snide."
"Sure, but sometimes you can have the wrong opinion and he was being snide," she snarked, as Sinclair chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss atop her head. "He decided to have a go at you before you came in and I let him know he could bugger off if he didn't like you."
"Was he drunk?"
That wasn't the question she thought she would hear.
"Yes I believe so," she answered, tilting her head up with a quizzical gaze at his question only to see amusement shine in his eyes.
"Darling you slagged off a possibly drunk man because he was mean to me did you?" Sinclair laughed in astonishment as he let go of her, only to find a pouty expression directed at him. "He probably won't even remember tomorrow, but it's lovely of you to defend my honour at a holiday party to someone you don't know. Hmm, I think it's the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me actually. Thank you Amiee!"
She sure hoped it wasn't the sweetest thing a partner had ever done for him, or she would need to talk to him about the people he had dated considering it was the least she could do. Granted she probably needed to have that pep talk too as she was no better.
Her pondering was cut short though by Sinclair who interrupted her with a cheerful,
"But also you look very pretty! I like the red on you! But red also makes me think of wine and stuff which reminds me that I'm hungry and I'm sure everyone else is!" He blabbered on as he turned towards the counter to begin taking food out of the bags. "Can you help me get all this food and stuff set up and brought out? Gosh, It seems like I'm making you do so much running around!"
The dizzying array of topics that he had just jumped through would have confused others, yet Amiee followed his train of thought perfectly, amused at how he related seemingly unrelated topics.
"Thank you 'Clair!” She beamed. “And yes, I will help you plate stuff. What kind of hostess would I be if I didn't?"
With a strong team effort, they unpacked the precooked food that he had bought for the party. Along with that, they also took things out of the fridge that had been premade and opened the oven to check on the food that had been in there staying warm.
Amiee only had to keep Sinclair from trying to eat one of the mini pork pies once. Though, when she had turned around for a second, he shoved a sausage roll in his mouth only for her to laugh at his puffed cheeks when he was caught chewing. He wasn't a very quiet eater, and it was very obvious by the sudden groan that he made that he had nicked something.
Once all the food had been plated on the fancy serving plates, and bags were tossed or stored -except one, that Sinclair said was for a surprise later. The only thing left was to bring all the food and plates out for everyone to serve themselves.
Giving each other approving looks, Sinclair leaned his head down as if he was looking for something on Amiee's side, only to find her lips being placed on his. He hummed in delight as they basked in the warm moment with each other, right before they would have to go back to being just good friends in front of everyone.
Oh, the woes of a hidden relationship.
They moaned as their lips hungrily clashed against each other, almost forgetting that someone could walk in and see them snogging like teenagers.
Pulling away, Amiee looked up at Sinclair before amusement blanketed her features.
"Sinclair here you have something on your lips," she giggled as she swiped at his lips with her thumb, trying to remove the lipstick that stained his thin lips.
He hummed as she rubbed it off before she gave him a pleased smile.
"Alright, ready to feed the hungry masses?" She asked as she picked up two different things getting ready to head for the living room.
"If by hungry masses you mean me? Then yes!" Sinclair answered enthusiastically, causing her to let out a loud laugh as she led them back into the front where people cheered as the food arrived.
The abundance of appetizers and small eats had been a hit, as everyone seemed pleased with the variety and the amount of things they could choose from. It came to no one's surprise, that there was such an abundance considering it was Sinclair hosting, and he was notorious for making sure there was plenty to go around.
Someone even complimented the egg tarts Amiee had brought, and Sinclair, once again, proudly proclaimed that she had bought them causing her to be back in the spotlight but just briefly. She would have to tell her mum that they were a hit like she knew they would be.
The party seemed to go on and on with everyone having a good time, and becoming more energetic after food was in stomachs. Someone even opted to do some mock karaoke to one of the Christmas songs that started to play, garnering everyone's attention and laughter.
Throughout the whole thing, Amiee and Sinclair would sneak looks at each other whenever he wasn't deep into a conversation, and both of them couldn't stop the smiles that grew on their lips when one saw the other.
They were hopeless. As it went on though, Amiee found herself tiring of the socialization as she had done enough for the rest of the year and some of the next. Her eyes felt tired, yet people seemed to be having fun still and Sinclair, the ever-energetic puppy, was in deep conversation with a group of three.
How he had the energy, she didn't know, but she wouldn't drag him out of his zone as she was happy to see him happy. But she needed somewhere quiet to recharge from all the noise.
So she made a decision. Surveying the crowd, she made sure no one was looking, and that everyone was talking to someone before she slowly made her way out of the lively room. If she didn't make eye contact no one would notice her.
'Amiee what are you doing you're not James Bond, this isn't a spy movie please act normal.'
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it wasn't as if she wasn't well-versed in slipping out of crowded rooms. She was usually hardly missed in those kinds of gatherings.
The thought pulled at her heart a bit, and a frown briefly invited itself onto her lips before she quickly and quietly left the room. Once she was confident no one saw her, she kept moving down the hall until she was able to slip into Sinclair's dim bedroom, where the only light source was a lamp on his bedside table.
Cautiously, she closed the door behind her before letting out a sigh of relief.
"Freedom," she muttered to herself, as she padded towards the large bed and flopped herself face forward onto the mattress.
A long groan left her lips as she crawled on top of the bed sheets, and rolled herself onto Sinclair's side of the bed. Snuggling with his pillow, and inhaling the comforting scent that was him, she relaxed, happy to be away from the crowd just for a bit.
"Just rest my eyes for a bit, that should do it." She told herself as her eyes fluttered closed. "Just resting my eyes, that's it Amiee then you'll get up and go back and …yawn… be social."
Closing her eyes to rest them, she was unsurprisingly out like a light moments later.
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It wasn't the noise that had awakened her, but the lack of it, as her bleary eyes opened to the dim room that was filled with silence. Getting her bearings together took a few more moments, and her sitting up took the same amount of time as she found herself more exhausted than before.
"Shit," she groaned as she wiped at her eyes to try and wake up. "Did I fall asleep?"
"You did!"
“Oh my god!”
Amiee shrieked, startled at the voice that suddenly came out of the en suite bathroom, which she hadn't noticed had its lights turned on.
Coming out of the room with a white t-shirt, and a pair of cozy joggers that hugged his hips just right, Amiee couldn't stop herself from ogling  Sinclair as he came towards her.
"I was wondering where you had run off to!" He started as he sat on the edge of the bed closest to her.
"God I'm sorry 'Clair," her apology was punctuated with a yawn that couldn't be stifled.
"It's okay! You looked so adorable sleeping that I felt bad about oh, uhm, what's that word you all use sometimes," he thought for a moment before finding the word he was looking for. "Mither? Felt bad if I mithered you?"
His attempt to use the local slang made her giggle, as it was so odd to hear anything but his posh upper class London accent.
"You wouldn't have mithered me at all, I would have gotten up, I was just dead tired talking to all those people," she explained while crawling over to his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Sorry love, I'll make it up to you at the next party that I know you'll be having."
"Which will be your birthday party you know. I still can't believe you haven't had one before that's absurd you deserve to be celebrated and I want to celebrate you but, you need to tell me where you want to have it."
"Sinclair no it's fine! Please don't make such a fuss about it.” She begged, wrapping her arms around his forearm and putting her chin on his shoulder which was accompanied by an endearing pout. “I don't mind really. It’s not a big deal for me to not have a party, just being with you during it is good enough for me."
"But it is a big deal because you were born and it makes me happy that you are here. And I want to celebrate my favorite person is that so wrong?" Sinclair asked, eyeing her with that longing look that he knew she was weak too. 
Ugh, how could she say no when he put it in such terms and looked at her like that. Damn him!
"No, it's not but, hmmm fine, let's make a compromise.” She offered which had him perk up just like a puppy hearing a door open or food being poured into a bowl. “We can have dinner somewhere but only with six people at the most, including me and you."
Hmm. Six people didn't sound too much like a party to Sinclair, but he decided he was happier that she was letting him do something special for her birthday to care. Plus it was her birthday.
"Okay! Deal darling a dinner party with six people it is.” He agreed energetically. “I'll let you be in charge of the guest list since it's for you. Let me know if you need help wrangling people. I do love people wrangling."
Of course, he did, though he usually didn't have to wrangle people, as he already had a magnetic and sunny personality that people were drawn to automatically.
Great, now she just had to find four people to celebrate within a week or two time. That was next week Amiee’s problem though, as Amiee of the present was tired and ready to just cuddle up into bed and snooze.
"Oh speaking of birthdays and holidays!" Sinclair chirped out of the blue now that her birthday event was settled. "I have a gift for you that I want you to have! It was one of the reasons I was late this evening, which sorry, but thank you for keeping everyone company. Everyone said you were lovely as a hostess!"
"Sinclair what did you buy me now," Amiee whined, as he scooted off the bed and headed to his closet to rummage for the item he had bought today. "You always buy me stuff you know, and you don't have to," she continued as he disappeared, and then reappeared in the room with a medium-sized rectangular box that was just a tad bit larger than his palm. "And it's always such pretty stuff that I hate I can't display at home because my parents and Angie would ask about it."
Walking back over to her, and sitting down, Sinclair grabbed Amiee gently as she wobbled due to the sudden motion of the bed dipping. Grinning at her, he leaned over to kiss her temple and then her lips, which she accepted with a soft noise as she leaned against him.
"I know, I know, but I saw it and it looked so cute and I thought of you because you're also very cute darling.” His compliment had her bashfully dropping her head and shaking it, as a sweet giggle left her lips that made him all the more enthused about giving her the gift. “But it also reminded me that you've never had a Christmas tree, or a Christmas topper for the tree! So I thought well this would be nice to put atop the tree this year instead of a star and you would also have a topper," he chattered happily as he handed the velvet box over to Amiee who apprehensively took it. "Plus I love being a giver of gifts, especially when I can gift you with things!"
The fabric of the box was so soft, and upscale that she wouldn't be surprised if he had paid the same amount for the box as the gift itself. It made her heart ache a bit only because while she was sure she would love it, there was guilt hanging around telling her she didn't deserve it. Making her feel bad that she couldn't reciprocate his generosity with her own.
He never complained about the gifts she would give him, even if they weren’t as luxurious as the ones he could afford to give her. Yet, he was always thrilled when she brought him something. And while she was sure he wasn't faking it, considering it was hard for him to fake emotions, she still felt a bit bad.
Noticing her hesitation, his hand fell to her lower back patting her gently as she played with the box in her hand.
"Go on darling," he murmured leaning over, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't be shy open it! I want to see if you like it!"
Shooting him a timid smile, she looked back down at the box and took the top off delicately placing it down on the nightstand. In the box was filler paper, which she removed from the top only to find at the bottom a beautiful looking angel.
It had dark long hair, which had a golden crown made of flowers sitting atop its head. Brown eyes, with red paint on its lips, and golden angel wings that curved towards the front of the doll’s body. The dress it had on was a beautiful shiny red with golden flowers, and a red sash tied around its waist. The thing was absolutely gorgeous and Amiee was terrified of anything happening to it as she picked it up.
"An angel for my angel! She reminded me of you when I saw it!" He mused and it was so cheesy, but it didn't matter as Amiee was speechless at the gift and how sweet it was. She honestly would probably cherish it forever as she couldn’t take her eyes off the little thing. 
"Did you know angel toppers were the first ornaments people made by hand? Usually with straw because well it seemed like everyone used to have that long ago,” Sinclair rattled off. “We then started making glass ones just to put on top of the tree! Quite a long history for something so small."
"She's beautiful Sinclair," Amiee whispered so hushly that he hadn't heard her as he rambled on about the history of Christmas tree toppers that he knew far too much of.
Her fingers brushed the doll's cheek, which was smooth like the porcelain it was made from. And the satin, or whatever its dress was made of, was just as smooth and didn't snag like cheaper quality fabric.
She was so beautiful, and Amiee felt so silly when she felt emotion bubble in her throat as she looked at the doll. It was just a doll yet, it meant so much more to her than he could ever know.
"Thank you, thank you I love her so much," Amiee beamed leaning over and kissing Sinclair's cheek just in time to hide a tear or two that had slid down her own cheeks.
"Can we put her up soon?" She asked turning to the side to wipe her eyes and put the beautiful thing back in the box but not without admiring it some more. "I mean if you don't mind us changing what's on the tree already?"
A large smile shined on his face and he seemed to be on board with the idea considering that he was visibly vibrating with excitement. 
"Yes! Of course! We can do it tomorrow!" He exclaimed before looking at the clock and quickly correcting himself. "Well, later today actually but I think we could both use some sleep right?"
“Absolutely! I'm pretty sure my nap made me even more tired. But first I need to shower and get myself out of these clothes." She mumbled, remembering she had fallen asleep with her party outfit still on. "Mind if I steal a jumper for the night though?" She asked, putting the top of the box back on before getting off the bed to ransack Sinclair's closet for any jumper she could find.
"Oh wait I'll get one!" He suddenly shouted shooting off the bed and towards the closet, startling Amiee with how quick he moved.
It was those long legs of his.
"Here you go though darling!" He announced after a second of rummaging through the space before presenting her with another well-worn jumper that he had but not without adding, "if you could bring some of the ones you've nicked back it be great. I think I'm running low on them and I don't want to buy new ones. I could...but I like my old ones better more worn in you understand right?"
Brushing her confusion aside from his sudden rush toward the closet, her face turned warm at his ask before she let out a raucous laugh.
He was right though, she had stolen a few to keep for her own. She couldn't help it! They were comfy and she liked how his clothes drowned her smaller form. Also, they smelled like him and well…she liked snuggling in them when she felt down. But he was right, and for the sake of making sure he stayed comfortable, she would bring some of them back. Only some though because had to keep her inventory stocked up too.
"Hahah yes sir! Sorry, I’ll make sure to return this one and some of the others."
She saluted him before taking the article of clothing, and making her way to the bathroom for a nice relaxing shower. As she made her way to the bathroom, Sinclair gazed at her and kept watch until the door was closed and he could hear the spray of water from the shower start. Once he was sure she was in the shower, he walked back over to his closet where he had kicked a little black bag over so she couldn't see it, had she followed him to grab the jumper.
Getting on his knees, he reached for it and dragged it into the light before pulling another velvet box out of it. This time it was a much smaller box than the one he had given Amiee and more octagonal. Looking behind him, he made sure she hadn't come out of the bathroom, and when he was confident she wouldn't pop up, he opened the box to gaze at the ring that was sat cozily inside.
A beautiful rose gold band with a tracer attached to it. It had an oval garnet center that was surrounded by a halo of diamonds which were themselves surrounded by a diamond shape that had the same jewel in it. The jeweler had said it was a north star design when he picked it and he immediately thought it perfect for her.
He had gotten the call it had been delivered to the store before the party and he decided to fetch it considering he be out anyway. It was quite worth being late for the festivities, and he hoped that when it was time to use it, she would agree when he told her. Grinning at it, he closed the box and stowed it along with the bag somewhere a little more discreet while thinking about the moment he would present it to her. 
It was the only thing he could think about the rest of the night, and even more so when they were both cuddled in bed after her shower. Amiee’s head rested against Sinclair’s chest, and his arms were wrapped securely around her small frame as she fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. He hoped that this would one day be an everyday occurrence, and as he turned the lamp on his side off he couldn’t help but kiss the top of her head with a soft murmur of,
“I love you, sweet dreams angel.”
A/N: 🥹🥹 if you've read the story this ending may be bittersweet but i promise these lovebirds will be happy! thanks @renee561 for the angel topper idea it was so cute i couldn't resist not using it 😘 I hope this gave some warm fuzzy feels!
Also the ring inspo.
Tag: @deepperplexity , @mercurial-make-em-ups , @ringaroundthetown
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leclerc-s · 7 months
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i did something bad - part eight
YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID
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masterlist//previous//next
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christian horner who fucking was it?
alex albon in my defense, it was an accident. i forgot giovinazzi was in the groupchat.
christian horner good. now i know who's head to come for.
teagan horner dad, let it go. people were bound to assume we were dating just treat it like another rumor.
max verstappen to be fair, logan and oscar ripped him a new one.
liam lawson LOGAN SARGEANT? THAT LOGAN?
daniel ricciardo surprisingly he was quick to call him an asshole and a bunch of other words i didn't know he knew. oscar more-so called him a fucking dickhead.
teagan horner they're my grid kids.
pierre gasly did charles know he would end up a father when you two started dating? charles leclerc i knew the moment she met ollie.
mark webber are you stealing my grid kid teagan?
teagan horner you're no longer on the grid. he is my grid kid. deal with it. sebastian vettel how many grid kids do you have teagan? mark webber do not encourage this! teagan horner i have 3! oscar, ollie, and logan!
daniel ricciardo christian, how does it feel being a grandfather 🎤
christian horner no comment. i'm still plotting how to decapitate giovinazzi. is a cease and desist letter too much??
pierre gasly YES! alex albon people are suspicious if you send a cease and desist letter they'll know for sure. christian horner decapitation it is.
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teaganhorner posted new stories
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logan said he had a cool place to show me. he took me to a fucking lake to fish. i regret ever becoming his grid mom.
visiting grid kid #2
never leaving max alone again. he's such a drama queen.
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MIAMI 2024
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teaganhorner redbull's three mouseketeers reporting for duty at imola!
tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc
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landonorris so this is what you three do when you ditch us.
oscarpiastri grid mom is having more fun then us. pick up the slack logansargeant
↳ logansargeant dude, you're in bed. maybe get up and we can go get breakfast
username this trio is superior
username the banana costume makes a comeback!
danielricciardo and why wasn't i invited to the mouseketeers hang out? have i been replaced by lechair?
↳ teaganhorner you literally told us to go f*ck ourselves and let you sleep.
↳ maxverstappen1 you kicked us out of your room when we were hanging out. you said we were too loud and we weren't letting you sleep.
↳ charles_leclerc we invited you out and you said only if we bought you food. once we bought food you went back to your hotel to sleep.
↳ danielricciardo alright i get it, i'm old, i'm not as fun as i used to be.
alex_albon i guess our invite got lost in mail or something.
↳ maxverstappen1 notice how it says red bull
↳ alex_albon i was in red bull once. is that not enough?
↳ teaganhorner we can hang out next week in monaco!
↳ alex_albon deal
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IMOLA 2024
daniel had decided they should all have breakfast together, calling it a make-up breakfast for the hang out teagan had with charles and max. he had of course informed the entire group chat and now they all found themselves at a small restaurant enjoying breakfast together. their attention had been on charles, they could all tell he was nervous, that much was obvious in the way he fidgeted with his rings.
it was his first time being at a ferrari home race since he had left the team. it wasn't as big as monza but it was a ferrari home race nonetheless. teagan exchanged glances with max, the dutch glancing at christian and daniel who both looked confused. pierre was trying his best to distract his best friend but it was all for naught.
daniel cleared his throat, "are you going to be okay?" he asks charles.
"i'm not sure," charles whispered, "i do not think i can do this. this was home, for so long, i do not know how they will react to this."
teagan reached across the table to grab his hand, squeezing it, trying to comfort him, "many fans support the driver, not the team that they represent."
"the tifosi are different," charles pointed out, "they... they bleed rosso corsa proudly. they will only see me as a traitor to them. i let them all down, i failed all of them."
"you gave it your all," christian supplied, "they saw the struggles. they saw the bad strategy calls. they know why you left. they understand better than anyone else what it is like to be let down by ferrari time and time again."
"besides," alex said, "you gave them back what they hadn't had in 9 years. you gave them monza back, if only for a fleeting moment. you are forever engraved in their memory as one of the greatest because of what you did for them."
liam smiled, "something tells me you haven't been on twitter lately."
"not the time liam," max scolded.
"they're going to show up in red bull gear," yuki said, "you're still one of them, no matter the color you wear."
"i mean, the words fuck ferrari in all caps are currently trending on twitter," pierre added, as he put his phone away "so, that's got to count for something."
daniel laughed loudly, "only the tifosi could get the words fuck ferrari trending."
charles looked at them before someone tapped on charles shoulder. he tensed before turning around and being met with a little girl, no older than 10, in a ferrari shirt. what stood to all of them was the 16 on it, it was charles's shirt, his number.
the girl smiled at him, "can you sign my shirt?" she asked. she sounded so genuine in it that charles couldn't find it in himself to say no.
"of course," he looked around at his friends and boss, "do any of you have a marker?" daniel pulled one out of his pocket, "don't ask."
charles laughed, "i won't," he leaned over to the girl and signed her shirt carefully. she turned around and hugged him, "i think you look good in blue too," she smiled before running off. she turned around, "make sure you win for us!"
"see that," max said, "that's something they can't ever take away."
"they'll always love their il predestinato," pierre smiled.
for the first time in a long time charles realized he was right. to the majority of them it didn't matter what team he was on, he was still one of them. of course, there would be people who would hate him for his choices but he didn't care, not at this moment. and if he arrived at the paddock and was still surprised by people chanting his name decked out in red and blue, no one could blame him.
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redbullracing imola, tifosi, he's still your il predestinato, he always will be, he's just on a loan to us. congratulations to charles on his 5th win of the season, in just a matter of 2 months, he's doubled his career wins. it's another red bull 1-2 here in imola. #ilpredestiato #forzacharles
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username who approved this caption and why did they think it was okay to make me cry?
landonorris now why am i crying? this post is about charles not me.
teaganhorner damn, was it the admin's mission to make us cry?
↳ redbullracing sorry little boss, we're crying too.
charles_leclerc i will never admit that i cried to this post, but thank you admin. 💙💙
↳ redbullracing always charles 💙
maxverstappen1 the narcissist in me wants to ask for a post for me but charlie deserves it.
↳ username charlie? he calls him charlie! they're besties.
↳ maxverstappen1 not by choice.
↳ teaganhorner friends by chance, lovers by choice
↳ charles_leclerc 🙄
↳ username i love this trio
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taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @lillians-world-is-f1 @dakotali @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mikaelsonandrea @mypage-myfandoms @badassturtle13 @the-depressed-fellow @thewannabewriter @cspn17 @meadhbhcavanagh @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @bb-swift @lilac-lines
strikethrough means i couldn't tag you
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¡leclerc-s speaks! i refuse to call twitter anything other than twitter. would not recommend listening to you're on your own, kid while reading this. i listened to it while writing it and i almost started crying. okay maybe i cried a little bit but that's not important. MONACO YOU'RE UP NEXT!!
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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munsnz · 3 years
Text
TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?
Tags: @itsnottilly
Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.
Navigation — Mixtape
“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”
Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”
Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”
”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”
She snapped.
Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-
“Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”
Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.
Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?
“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”
Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”
”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.
“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?
Oh right.
Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?
Maybe.
But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.
To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?
”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.
Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”
Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”
”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”
Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?
Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?
Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.
Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”
”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”
”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”
Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?
Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.
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unaballerinascalza · 3 years
Text
Breathe
(pt. 3 of "...she has a shoe in her hand")
This is very short. Why.
Warnings: cursing, overall cliché again, not fluent
Ethan x fem reader, fluffy, slight angst
She stood there still, her conciousness doing cartwheels.
He repeated himself.
Wasn't she going to say the same thing? Yeah, so why is she failing to fish out a response?
"I'm sorry... Yeah, I'll go take a shower. Sorry again", he mumbled so silently only ghosts of rockstars, who've been holding their priceless breaths, could hear, and took off.
**
She slammed open the bathroom door after sprinting up the stairs. He sat on the floor, back to the tiled wall, in the same pose as in the balcony. He'd shed his sweatshirt somewhere, though. She found his eyes in the little ponds of tears surrounding them; she had rivers racing down her cheeks too.
She kneeled and crawled into his lap, and whispered an 'I love you' back. He sniffled and looked at her confused, then slowly moved his lips to hers and touched them subtly, like he was trying not to scare her off, but she crashed hers to his.
They both thought it wouldn't end up like this, although it did, even in a pool of tears. He scooped her chin in his palms and tried to bribe physics to allow him to bring her closer. Their noses brushed, breaths sank past their lungs, and–
"Ohooooh. Never have I ever thought that my need to piss will bring this joyful view. Now tell me lovebirds, why was there a need for you to annoy me with your hesitations?"
The bitch got struck again, with the second shoe. This time he'll have a bruise on his stomach – Ethan threw it slightly more forcibly.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?! HOW CAN GIO FUCK ME WHILE I'M NOT LOOKING PRESENTABLE WITH ALL THOSE BRUISES FROM YOUR DUMBASS SHOES?" He stomped out and dramatically closed the door.
"Wait. You've been talking to him too? You know, about this", she asked him.
"Shitty decision, I know. I guess we both became dumber, since we didn't even notice that we were head over heels for each other."
"Just promise me that you'll drown that dickhead in his own piss one day."
"I promise, amore," he giggled. "Good thing you didn't run into me while I was actually showering."
"Sure, tesoro. I think I'll get to see you naked enough times to compensate this."
Notes: grapefruits are more disgusting than onions. Argue with me.
Tags: @teenyweenynightghost
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dr3amofagame · 3 years
Text
more of the mutually assured destruction duo, post-prison this time! this one was really fun, thinking about what this dynamic might be like in the future gives me SO much brainrot, im so excited. this one’s also a little dark, so make sure to read the warnings + tags !! :D 
tw: implied prison abuse, starvation, toxic relationship, touch starvation, manipulation, panic attack, trauma, blood, injury
Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison.
And it's ironic, because Wilbur hasn't even been around, has been in hell for fuck's sake playing Competitive Solitaire for nine-odd years, but even he could've seen the self-destruction hanging like a cloud around the other's head from a million miles (and several months? years?) away. Perhaps, he thinks wryly, you can only see the signs when you've lived them, or maybe red flags don't raise alarm when you’ve painted the entire figure in blood, but it doesn't really matter, in the end, because the final result is the same.
Still, it's just a little funny when he's stopped in the middle of his journey through the Nether, not a piece of armor on him per usual and an unused netherite sword slung over his hip.
"Hello, Sapnap." The kid is standing in front of him, eyes gleaming in badly-hidden anger and desperation, smoke rising from the mottled red-black skin on his hands. "Fancy seeing you around."
"You-" Sapnap sputters, unable to speak as his face flushes red in frustration, and Wilbur smiles at him condescendingly. The expression on the other's face is one he's seen before - one Tommy had been particularly inclined to give him in the past, when his emotions raged so heavily that there was nothing for the pressure to do but build, too thick and heavy to force themselves out of his throat. "You're monsters," Sapnap manages, finally, and Wilbur quirks an eyebrow.
At least we're self-aware, he thinks, the all-too-familiar twinge of irritation at Tommy's - and apparently, Sapnap's particular brand of reckless naivety pulsing at the base of his skull. He lets none of these thoughts show on his face as he cocks his head to the side, smiles wider - and Sapnap, just like Tommy, takes the bait.
'Why are you smiling?" He looks achingly young - they all do, really, their expressions and reactions dripping with a sort of innocence and sincerity that dissolved from Wilbur's own face somewhere around the fifteen-hundreth game of poker, and it really does feel ironic, how quickly the outside world can fall apart compared to the unending constancy of the void - but he digresses.
He didn't know Sapnap well before his whole death thing, and as much as he wants to use his partner to get information on the other members of the server, he doesn't really think Dream is really even lucid enough for that - the man clearly hasn't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. It doesn't matter, though, because you learn to read people when your life becomes nothing but running the same broken-edged memories over and over again in your mind and smiling jaggedly over the same few card games - Wilbur had always been a people watcher, and Sapnap's feelings are stamped on every corner of his face.
"Monster, huh," he says, saying the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he's tasting it for the first time, watching from the corner of his eye as Sapnap squirms, "Interesting word you've got here. You use it often?"
Sapnap bristles, smoke curling from his nostrils - "It's what you are, dickhead."
Rolling his eyes internally, Wilbur keeps up the act, humming as he fiddles idly with his cufflink. "I mean, if you really believe that," he rocks forward on his right foot, stifling a smile at the way the younger draws back, "But really, it's all a matter of perspective." He twists himself around, pivoting around his heel, beginning to walk in an arc around Sapnap's left side, watching as he spins around, shoulders drawn up to his ears. "What do you think?"
"I think that you're full of shit," he says, voice flat, and Wilbur laughs. It's genuine, really, because well - Sapnap's different. He's fun; the entire server is, after so long in the void. You can only spend so much time with the same two people before they drive you a little up the metaphorical wall, but Sapnap's reactions are fresh and new and different, still saturated with vitality that hasn’t been leached out by the same deck of cards in the same scarred hands shuffled and reshuffled for eternity. He's interesting, and new, and most of all, predictable.
"Say, Sapnap," he continues, blowing over the other's anger, knowing that it'll only make the frustration build more. He lets his hair flop lazily over one eye, lets his smile grow wider, lips pressed together in amusement, turns his face so that it's lit eerily by the lava lake beneath them. "If we're monsters for, I don't know, setting off a few stacks of TNT," he waves his hand flippantly, watching the muscle of the other's jaw jump in poorly-hidden rage, "What does that make you for what you did to Dream?"
Sapnap's eyes go wide, and Wilbur knows he's struck the jackpot. He lets his lips part to reveal bared teeth, jagged and glinting in the light. "I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?"
The kid's mouth opens- closes- emotions warring on his face, fists curling and uncurling at his sides, lip trembling. "We- we had to-" his hands come to his face, palms digging into his eyes, and while he's not looking, Wilbur draws his expression back a bit, becoming softer, more welcoming. When Sapnap looks back up, his eyes are shining, hands shaking still; he steps forward, then rocks back on his back foot like he doesn't know where to go. "What do you mean?" he throws the words like they're meant to be a threat, but by the end his voice has devolved into something high-pitched and keening, overflowing with desperate grief that Wilbur latches onto like a starving man (ha) with his last meal.
"I'm sorry, it does seem rather insensitive for me to assume," he resumes pacing around the other, voice lilting, soft, "I just mean, it seemed pretty obvious, don't you think? I don't think I've ever seen someone so skinny, really, but I guess that is what happens when you get starved,"
"Shut up-"
"Not to mention the whole panicking thing, I mean, he's like Tommy sometimes with all of the fucking shaky breathing and mumbling around like creepers, not that I'd know what all of that's about," he watches Sapnap through half-hooded eyes, darkly amused, "and pickaxes, oddly enough, but oh well. Who am I to judge?"
"Shut up-"
"And all of the scars - I thought they were from you, honestly, he told me about the whole 'taking his last life' thing, but then he jumped into lava one day - I guess there wasn't much to do in that cell, huh? He didn't even scream, it's really pretty fucking incredible - I thought I'd actually have to break him down a bit, but really, you've made my life so much easier-"
"SHUT UP-"
Wilbur watches with a too-wide grin as Sapnap finally, finally charges, a netherite sword appearing in his hand as he races blindly ahead, tears shining on his cheeks, his words more pain than thought as he brings the blade down-
A blur of purple, the sound of crumbling netherrack and metal meeting metal, flesh hitting flesh - Wilbur moves smoothly out of the way as Sapnap crashes to the ground, an armored figure bearing down an axe against the shield he's raised between them.
Dream, hair tangled and long, wearing armor that is far too heavy for his skinny frame, every inch of him shaking in panic, should hardly be a threat - but this is Sapnap, weakened by Wilbur's sharp words and crippled by the shock of seeing his former best friend's face again, eyes still unfocused from the rage and tears that had clouded over them moments before, so he can do little but raise his shield as the netherite slams into it, again and again. Not a word falls from Dream's lips, but he brings down the weapon at a ruthless pace - ever since he's been free, his attack style has changed greatly from the defensive style he used to favor, even to Wilbur's untrained eye - there's no skill, no art to the way he attacks anymore, just the fearful ferocity of a dog trapped in a cage for far, far too long.
He finally kicks Sapnap down the netherrack cliff that they're on, the other man left to nurse his wounds below them - Wilbur doesn't bother sparing him another thought; Dream's far too weak to cause any permanent damage. Instead, he approaches his partner, weapon, with a smile, watching, satisfied, when he whirls around with a manic expression.
"I'm alright, see?" he croons as Dream's shoulders move up and down with his heaving breaths, eyes fever-bright, teeth bared. He brings a hand down on the other's shoulder and watches as he flinches at the movement, breath hitching, every muscle freezing, knuckles pale on the handle of his axe, before moving again, stumbling forwards, hands reaching for Wilbur's head and stopping halfway. Wilbur tips his head forward, lets the shorter brush his face with trembling fingers, checking his unmarred skin for blood through the purpling bruises already forming on his cheek, and thinks how powerful he is to have a god at his beck and call, a perfect attack dog brought to heel, death itself obediently at his side.
Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison, and as Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the way his spine arches at the touch, at the fluttering pulse under the skin-and-bone wrist under his fingers, he thinks how fortunate he is to be the first to notice.
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mandy23bwrites · 3 years
Text
The Price You Pay
Character/Pairing: Damon Baird x Female Reader
Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, female reader, female pronouns, kissing, lingo consistent with the games, appearances from Dom and Cole, Marcus is mentioned, perspective gets passed from Baird to reader, no plot
Disclaimer: Takes place between Gears 2 and 3
Word Count: 1427
Summary: Goodbyes are hard. They’re especially hard when your lover is one of the COG’s golden boys, always being sent out into danger. 
(Alternative summary: Baird loves being right (what’s new?))
Read on AO3
“Yo Baird!” Damon Baird glanced up from where he was strapping his ammo pack around his thigh to where Cole was standing in the doorway of his cabin. “You know where your lady love’s at?” Baird couldn’t help rolling his eyes at Cole’s ridiculous nickname for you but he also couldn’t deny that it was fairly accurate... even if he wasn’t ready to say the “L” word yet. 
“What do I look like, her nanny?” He shifted his focus back to his armor, grabbing his chest plates.
“Dom’s looking for her,” Cole said, unfazed, “He’s worried we won't be back in time for crop duty.” Baird scoffed at that. “You know how much he cares about those things.”
“They’re not going to die if they’re watered a day late. Did he even check if her squad’s here?”
“He saw the twins in the mess and they said she’s around somewhere. She ain’t in her cabin or the workshop so we figured you might know.”
Baird grunted as he secured his plates and looked around for his gloves. “I don’t know. She’s probably on the deck somewhere.” 
“Alright. I’ll go find her so you can confess your undying love before we ship out.” Cole gave a cheeky laugh but was gone by the time Baird turned back to make a smartass retort. Instead, he scowled to himself and pulled on his gloves. You couldn’t have gone far, he thought to himself. Sovereign was a big ship but not that big.
As he attached his gnasher and lancer to his holster pack, the ship speakers crackled to life, announcing their raven was prepped and ready. But he couldn’t go to the landing pad just yet; no, the seed of curiosity had been planted. His deep-seated need to know everything extended to figuring out where you were and whether you were safe. So with one last cursory glance around his cabin, ensuring he had everything, he sealed the door and set out to find you, not noticing Dom and Cole trailing him from a distance.
The deck was crowded: some people were tending to the large crop beds while others were running through training exercises. There were also a couple of lookouts along the railings, scouting for stalks or other ships. Littered all around them were small groups of gears, out socializing and enjoying the sun.
Baird scanned the faces of the off-duty gears in the gardens with no success. He knew it wasn’t your week to work but you were known for picking up shifts. He doubted you were in one of the rec areas below deck, given the time of day - you had some projects to work on; he had been there the other day when some gears had come into the workshop and asked if you could paint their plates and weapons. And considering how quickly and enthusiastically you had jumped on the opportunity, he figured that’s what you’d be doing. But if you weren’t in the workshop…
His eyes landed on two areas of storage crates: one by the gardens, one by the training area. He set off towards the gardens; you were like him, preferring a quieter, secluded place to work. Peering around boxes and crates, he quickly found you amongst them, sealant spray can in hand, kneeling in front of a set of propped up weapons. He smirked: he loved being right.
You must have heard his approach because you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him, setting down the can and rising to your feet. As you did, his face softened into the half smirk, half smile you were used to seeing from him. Coming to a stop next to you, he eyed your handiwork, weapons still recognizable despite your tape and coverings to protect the essential components: a hammerburst with a stylized omen, a gnasher with sleek, colorful lines, and a snub with someone’s initials in a bold font. They were impressive and he once again considered asking you to paint his own weapons. Maybe blue... with some yellow accents.
You shifted so you could playfully bump your hip into his, as was your usual greeting for him, and like clockwork, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his side. You leaned into him while your eyes flicked down his body, taking note of the full armor, before meeting his waiting gaze.
“Where to?” You asked.
His nose scrunched. “Sounds like command’s sending us to check on one of the camps they’ve been getting radio silence from. The lambent probably wiped them out and the parasites will have pillaged the place by the time we get there. I don’t see the point in sending a whole squad when a pass over would suffice.” There was certainly no love lost between him and the civilians nor the stranded. But before you could reply, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
“See, baby? I told you he’d find her!” You both turned around to see Cole and Dom making their way towards you, and Baird scowled at Dom.
“Wait a minute, you told me you couldn’t find her just so you could follow me when I went looking?! Let me guess: you couldn’t be bothered to get off your ass and actually look for her yourself.”
“I looked, dickhead, but when the usual spots came up empty, we figured your pompous ass would know,” Dom snapped back.
You reached out and gave Baird’s wrist a squeeze before he could argue any further. “So whatcha need me for?”
“I was hoping you could water my crops if we’re not back tomorrow. We have no idea what we’re gonna find today so it might be a long call.”
“Of course,” you smiled, “I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
“Thanks,” Dom said, returning your smile before pressing a finger to his earpiece. You were close enough to Baird to hear some chatter in his own piece, far too quiet to make out but you imagined it was an impatient Marcus telling them to get their asses to the raven. “We’re on our way,” Dom replied to the call.
“Alright ladies, can’t keep the boss waiting,” Cole declared and you chuckled, suspicions confirmed.
“Good luck Delta. And keep an eye on this one for me,” you tipped your head towards Baird, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” The man in question snorted.
“Hey, Cole’s the reckless one, not me.”
“Yeah but I’m still around, baby!” Cole grinned and he and Dom turned to head out, leaving you and Baird alone.
Turning back towards each other, you stood there for a moment, staring. You had learned long ago that goodbyes were hard, not knowing which might be the last. Then, you took his face in your hands and drew him in for a kiss. He in turn wound his arms around you, pulling you against him, or at least as close as his armor would allow.
“Alright Damon, you know the speech.”
“‘Don’t get your ass shot and use your vast intellect to save the day’ - that one?” You chuckled and shook your head.
“Close enough,” you murmured, reaching up to hook a finger into the elastic band of his goggles and pulling it back just enough to give him a gentle snap. He rolled his eyes before leaning in for another kiss, which quickly escalated into several more.
You couldn’t help but indulge in the moment, wrapping your arms around his neck. The flick of his tongue made you grip him tighter and you could feel him smirk against your lips.
This time when his earpiece goes off, you could make out the faint “Baird, now” from Marcus and had to try and bite back a laugh.
“Alright, I’m coming, don’t get your panties twisted,” Baird replied with a huff.
“I’ll see you later,” You said, before giving him one last kiss.
His lips curled into a small smirk before he turned and jogged off. You watched him disappear before returning to your project, your stomach beginning to tighten. You had no way of knowing if what you said was entirely true, but you liked to hope it was. The nerves you felt every time he headed out on a new mission was the price you paid for dating a fellow gear. But you took comfort in knowing he was in a good squad - you both were. Delta was a small army in and of itself. If anyone had a chance of making it home safe, it was them.
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httphonsool · 3 years
Text
the great spymaster
2. dancing shadows
synopsis; a series of drabbles in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart, this time; you’re both in a library.
warnings; mentions of assault/hinting towards assault, hallucination, nightmares, cutting, i think that’s it but let me know if there’s something i missed.
tag list; @grandpascurtains @samaras-weavings
notes; i don’t think i took too long to write this did i? well, anyways, the story progresses and you find out more about the reader’s life and personality, i’m not sure how many parts this will have, it’ll probably be a lot as these are quite short, but anyway yeah, enjoy!!
-
My, my, it’s been four days, or well, you’re guessing it’s been four days due to the meal pattern you’ve figured out, and not a word from the strange, beautiful interrogator. Perhaps if it wasn’t such an odd situation you would have taken a liking to the interrogator but after having stuck you in a cell with only darkness for a whole week, it’s hard to say you even want to talk to him. You’ve noticed shadows lingering in the darkness, highly resembling those who’ve wronged you in your past, one face nagging at your brain with clear persistence. This was a madhouse. You see hallucinations, reliving your worst memories, you dream of your worst days; though you could hardly call them dreams, it’s hard feeling much other than fear, so you’ve taken to pressing into your previously shackled wrists, scratching and cutting into the raw, bruised flesh with your nails just to feel pain. A madhouse.
How long does a consultation with his High Lord take? Surely it couldn’t have taken more than at least a day. Or perhaps this High Lord doesn’t exist and you’re dreaming, just dreaming. Or maybe this High Lord is cruel, not wanting to spare much time over you and slowly torture you until you died—
“I assure you, torturing you is not the reason my spymaster and I took so long. We had protocols to abide by.” You turn your head to see your interrogator and a man—it’s hard to see in the dark but the men in this realm seem to have very prominent eyes, this man’s is almost violet. Your interrogator’s hazel eyes seem to give much more mercy than those of his High Lord, “So you’ve broken our wards, I hear.” The High Lord continues, pointing his eyes down, pacing around your cell.
“I’ve heard this news too, except I didn’t even know these wards existed.” You say. The High Lord paces some more, searching for something; what he was searching for you had no clue but you waited in silence for as long as he was quiet.
“After looking into your mind I see no reason to keep you in this cell any further,” The High Lord pauses, offering a smile as you breathe a sigh of relief, “but you can’t go back, either.”
“Please,” You plead, “I beg you, take me out of here.” You hope he sees the purple smudges that have appeared from your lack of sleep; lack of being able to stay sane.
“Oh, we’re taking you out,” your interrogator speaks, for the first time that day, “I’ll be watching over you the entire time.”
“W-where- where are you taking me?” Your arms tremble, the deathly temperature nipping away at your skin.
“The House of Wind,” The High Lord replies, “where my spymaster, Azriel, will be watching over you.”
-
The House of Wind was…it was something for sure with its ten thousand steps, of course, the view from the house was quite picturesque but you didn’t have time to admire it while you feel like Rapunzel in her tower, though even Rapunzel wasn’t given the luxury of ten thousand steps down to a city.
Your room, however, was definitely a score with its rustic four-post bed, old-fashioned red curtains that drooped low to the white-marble ground, and the grand walk in wardrobe: it was rich, yet tasteful. You really felt like a princess. Though, I suppose you aren’t far from it with you locked up high in building with little to no contact with the real world.
Being some princess wasn’t even the worst of your problems, no, no, the worst of your problems was the Fae man with swirling shadows surrounding him who looked like a God and barely spoke to you since he flew you up straight into your doom.
Right now, you were sitting in the library, the great spymaster only a couple of metres away from you, glancing at you every few minutes, his shadows no longer visible, as if they had melted into their surroundings.
“Is there absolutely nowhere else I can go? I have to stay up here?” Those are the first words you’ve spoken to him since you both arrived.
“Not necessarily.” You wish you could reach over and rip his throat out for being so short-spoken.
“Can you explain?” You grumble, turning the page of your book.
“I could fly you to anywhere, really,” He pauses deciding whether or not he should continue, “The only policy is that I have to watch over you.” Is he free all the time? Surely this man had his own duties.
“Don’t you have other duties? Couldn’t someone else watch over me?” You ask, keeping your eyes on your book.
“I have other people taking care of the work. This was an order from the High Lord.”
“So I’m stuck with you? All the time? I can’t even breathe without you stalking over me?” You huff; out of all the people you could’ve been stuck with… it had to be some quiet, short-spoken, boring shadowsinger (which by the way, no, you do not know what that means but you heard him mention something about it on your way here, you’re guessing it has something to do with the shadows coming out of his body), who can’t even hold a conversation to save his life?
“If you want your space go to your room and get naked, I assure you I won’t be coming in to see you any time soon while you’re in those conditions.” You have to admit it hurts that someone so pretty and so beautiful has just insinuated that he thinks your body is ugly, but the great spymaster- who you don’t even know the name of- doesn’t need to know that.
You scoff, “You fae have some audacity. Take me to some other library I can read in, I want to see more of this city.”
-
So he did, and you screamed as he took off into the air without any warning, and you screamed some more when you landed and saw in a puddle how messy your hair had become; it’s safe to say he didn’t give a damn at all, if anything you think he looked quite satisfied.
You learned that the priestesses ran the library, only allowing people they approved into the library, and for whatever reason they saw fit, they approved you. Maybe it was because you could relate to their experiences somehow, maybe they could feel the trauma in your past, but you didn’t say anything; just thanked them and went about on your conquest to find the filthiest, most smutty books to read.
So here you sat, your eyes pretending to read your book whilst your ears listened into the conversation he was having with some priestess of the library. Her name was Gwyn apparently, and though it was none of your business, you were interested anyway. She’s gorgeous. That’s the only comment there is to make, and she seems quite pleasant too, sincere and honest; but of course, she’s a priestess.
And you don’t miss the way the shadowsinger’s shadows dance and prance around her, celebrating and indulging her presence. They don’t show up around you, which meant that the shadowsinger actually must be friends with her. You gasp with realisation; maybe he even feels for her.
At least he can actually feel something.
“How much longer were you going to listen into my conversation?” He asks, crouching down beside you.
“I wasn’t listening, just observing.” You state, turning the corner of your page. He doesn’t answer.
A few moments later, he opens his mouth, “What did you observe?”
“Just some things,” you tease, he stares at you expectantly, “those shadows were dancing around her,” you turn another page, “maybe…it’s because you have feelings for her.”
“Shut up.” No blushing, no smiles, just a boring monotone face. What a dickhead.
Well at least one thing was clear; neither of you liked each other very much.
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lululawrence · 3 years
Note
hiiii i was the mpreg!harry anon and i was wondering if you have super super super angsty recs and maybe harry having a lot of complications during birth or something?!! or even full out passing away or anything like that tbh
okay darling, i’m quite afraid that i’m going to disappoint with this rec lolllll i’ll be upfront and say that i have to stay away from most fics that have complications during pregnancy or during birth because of my own triggers and real life experiences, so the recs i have don’t feature that. i also defo cannot handle MCD, so i’m sorry!
now when it comes to super angsty mpreg? that i can try to help with. lol you prefer mpreg harry, so i’ll try to focus on that in here, but tbh the first angsty mpreg fics i thought of were mpreg louis fics.i might add one or two of those still, but the rest will be harry, promise. i also hope these are angsty enough for your liking, even without the birth complications and mcd haha here we go!
There Goes My Life by @mizzhydes / MsHydeStylinson - okay, i know i know, this is not what comes to mind when i think of angsty, okay? BUT it is mpreg harry AND there is the underlying fear of miscarriage along with an unplanned c-section so! because of that i’m still reccing it here. plus i fucking loved this fic, so. yeah. lol
I Think You're Already Home by @jaerie / jaerie - again, this one isn’t crazy angsty, at least not to do with the pregnancy. there’s plenty of angst and pining and hella smut, but there’s a surprise home-birth of sorts, loads of anxiety, the fact that harry is only a surrogate and going to have to give up the baby, etc etc etc so while the pregnancy itself isn’t angsty, there’s still a lot of angst and a lot of feelings that are in there that surround the whole thing, so 100% rec this one, i love it and i’m not just saying that cause jenna gifted it to me lol
Everything I need I get from you by @jaerie​ - okay, so in this one once again it’s mpreg harry and harry’s in a relationship with a neglectful dickhead. because of harry overworking himself and not having access to music, which in this a/b/o world contributes to people’s health, it means that harry’s not really in good health and he is incredibly concerned about his baby. so there’s the angst surrounding the situation harry is in and his health plus what to do about louis who is trying to help him, etc etc etc. it isn’t super angsty, but hot damn is it good.
Tightrope by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren - so this is mpreg louis, but there are complications with the pregnancy! haha and a decent amount of angst surrounding it because of that. basically harry and louis are both full on dumbasses who had a fwb type situation when neither of them were dating someone, and louis accidentally gets pregnant off of it lollll it’s FAB and i love! 
Sisterwives by @jaerie​ - what can i say? jenna delivers on the angsty pregnancy shit lmao omega harry, omega louis, they’re sisterwives who are like... enemies to fragile friends to lovers, but they have to hide it from their alpha. there’s forced pregnancy, a pretty decent lack of medical care, they’re basically in a cult with like no money... there’s a lot of angst from outside situations while also discovering themselves and it’s a lot and i love it.
Say Something by @kingsofeverything - okay so i haven’t read this yet but i am SO excited to do so when i have a moment lol that said, lauren said she didn’t think it was that angsty, but she apparently doesn’t have a good gauge of that and the situation does seem like it could be angsty so i’ll throw it out there lmao harry’s 50 and a widower, louis is 28 (heh), they’re matched up by a heat/rut service, and harry accidentally get’s pregnant! WHOOPS
Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer - this one i read awhile ago and i don’t remember the actual level of angst but i do remember crying a lot because i’d just had a baby and everything harry was going through just hit me so hard lollll so yeah anyway mpreg harry who is a doctor and as we all know, doctors are the worst patients, right? lol so he doesn’t really take care of himself the way he should and meanwhile louis just... can’t be found and he’s just... it’s so good. and the pain is good too. again, i don’t remember if the angst is high or if the angst has to do with the pregnancy physically, i don’t think it does outside of harry working himself too hard perhaps, but yeah. this was one of the first mpreg fics i ever read and it is STILL one of my favs.
I'm In Trouble Deep by Allthelivelonglarry, sammie4jones, Scrufflecake, and OrphanAccount - okay listen if you want angst, this is one hell of a ride haha! once again, i don’t remember the pregnancy itself being the angsty part, outside of everything harry has to deal with regarding it... it’s just all a lot. there’s so much harry is working through in so many ways and please read the tags first just to be sure you’re good haha but considering what you asked for, i’m guessing you are. ANYWAY. pain? check. mpreg harry? check. have at it, dear! haha
okay and that’s all i think i’ve got for you, i sure hope something here is new and fits the bill! i do fear that i am not able to actually give you the level of angst you’re wanting, but i did my best. happy reading!!
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Text
CALI COAST.
Filip “Chibs” Telford x Reader
Anon asked: Hiya, love your writing!! I’d like to request a chibs Imagine about a him falling for a female mechanic at TM. Thank you 😊
Word Count: 3.6k
Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘
Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to the author.
Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
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Driving the car crane, carrying a blue sedan that you were trying to seize for three days, but the owner was such a dickhead till he finally pissed you off and you had to point him with a gun. Tig told you to do it, even if you've never fired one. His face was worth the risk of being reprimanded by Hale. Danny claps at you, when getting off of the crane, you point your new acquisition with both hands and a huge smile on the corner of your lips.
“Tada!” You say with a melodic voice, jumping one time.
“Good job, rookie”. He says urging you to high-five, giving you the ‘seized’ sticker. 
Very proud of your work, you take it to stick it on the front glass, crossing your arms after it to admire your piece of art.
“Ok, let's pull down this big guy”. Danny palms your back, ready to drop the tow and park the car with the rest.
“Ya’, man, who's that lass?” Chibs steps slow down, some meters away from you, hitting Tig's chest with his palm, actually hurting him.
“What the fuck?!” He yells rubbing himself over the kutt.
“She's (Y/N), the new Teller-Morrow mechanic”. Happy comes from nowhere, scaring both men, with no gesture in his face. “She's like a Pop Tart. Sweet and crunchy”.
“Did you already fuck her?” Tig sighs staring at him.
“No”.
“Then, how 'you know she's crunchy?”
“She broke Juice's nose yesterday”.
The men break in laughter, now understanding why his face looks like shit.
“Wha' happened?” Chibs tries to talk, starting to cough because of the loud laughs.
“She just got scared, 'cause he was behind her in silence”. Happy turns at them, narrowing on of his shoulder, making a move with his head to follow him.
The SOA president has been out of Charming for two weeks, taking care of the gun's business at southern Cali. For you, he was just traveling. The guys talked about him a lot in his absence of the club and you were pretty excited to meet him. At least, he's also your boss. So, when Tig shouts your new nickname making you turn, you go immediately with the same smile on your face.
“What's'ap, boss?” You say placing your hands behind your back, covered by the green jumpsuit of the workshop.
“The president”. He says pushing the man into you, with a singsong voice, making the scottish clicks his tongue.
“Just Chibs”. He adds, offering you a hand in somewhat formal greeting.
“Finally!” You say excited narrowing it, actually feeling a little nervous. “I'm (Y/N), but they call me ‘rookie’”.
“Rooke'”?
“Yeah, like a prospect for the club”. You explain then, getting back your hand with the own other.
“And she likes whisky”. Happy puts a forearm on one of the president's shoulder, taking off the toothbrush of his lips. 
“Really? Ya' wan' one? So ya' can tell me where did ya' come from”. The man offers then, turning an arm to the club entrance, and you obviously can't say ‘no’ even if it's ten am and you just finished the first coffee of the day. You nod in silence. 
Tig and Happy continue their way to the workshop, whilst you're walking by the scottish side with the nerves running through your whole anatomy. Everybody knows the Sons of Anarchy, everybody knows what they do even if they didn't see it. You know you don't have to be afraid, nor scared, but you can't help feeling it anyway. In a gentle gesture, the president holds the door for you, smiling slightly coming in. The club is empty, not even music is being played and it's kinda strange. Maybe they prepared before this meeting, so no one could bother you. 
Even if you have been working for the last two weeks, if Filip decides to fire you 'cause you're not what he was looking for Teller-Morrow, he can do it without needing the support of anyone. You like your job and they pay you quite well, having a very flexible schedule, and treating you like another one of the family. So losing it, it's not an option.
You can see the man turning around towards the bar, grabbing two glasses to serve a whisky from an old bottle. You can recognize it. An special edition of Blue Label of Johnnie Walker. You have never tasted before, but you heard about it. Honey and vanilla are the first nuances you can taste having a sip. Chibs is staring at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an opinion. Snapping 
“It's sweet, but bitter because of the citrics”.
“Dammet', lass!” He yells excited, hitting the bar, provoking you a chill. “Its true ya' like wheske'”.
“Yea', I... do”. You nod with pursed lips, seeing him walk towards the sofa.
Sitting there, you doubt for a second carrying a chair next to him and leaving your drink on the table, looking around for a second expecting what he wants to know.
“So tel'me. Where 'ya from, where ya' worken'... All thes' thengs'”. Chibs finally says, placing his whisky above the table, leaning towards you with his forearm supported on his lap.
“I'm from Los Angeles, my father had a workshop too, so it's family business”. You explain yourself, not sure what more you can say about your life. “When he died thr—”.
“'Am sorre'bout that”. The president holds your right hand for a while, narrowing it.
“Yea', life's things, I guess”. His touch is firm, looking at both hands sideway, before continue. “Well, ah... It was three years ago. He left me the workshop, but I was alone and I couldn't do it without help, so I had to sell it. I was working with my uncle, till I decided to move on. And... a friend told me about yours and I said... Why not? So, here I am”.
“Hm...” Chibs nods thoughtful resting his back on the sofa, moving his gaze from one side to another in nowhere.
“Listen, ah... I know it took me three days to seize that sedan, and I have no excuses, but I really like this job. I mean, work here”. You look desperate licking your lips and gesticulating more than necessary, not trying to give pity, but asking for another chance.
“Relax, rooke', I'm not gonna keck'yar ass”. His loud laughter, shaking his chin, infects you chuckling. Not sure if because you want, or because you're doing it to please him. “The bike in the backyard, is yars'?”
“It was my father's. He used to run Cali with it, till he couldn't do it anymore. But it's not working. I have to fix it”.
“You wan'me to help ye'?”
The question takes you by surprise, twisting your neck as a dog would do when he's confused. Until now, you have been doing it by yourself, even though you can take her to a workshop and not worry about it. But someone offering himself to help you it's something new. Not actually ‘someone’, but the Sons of Anarchy president. And your boss.
“Yes, yes... I mean, sure. If you have time”.
“Aye! 'Course, lass. Wha' ya' have is a fuckin' gem! Wha'bout tonigh'?”
You don't say anything, but it sounds like a date. And it doesn't surprised you by the way he had to greeting you, when you two met minutes ago. His fingers were a little shaky and you can swear that even his hand was somewhat sweaty. Finally, you nod before he could start to think that you're kinda dumb, having a sip of your whiskey.
“Ya ken'? I had one simila' when I was younga'”. He comments, seeming like the man wants to continue your talk, but doesn't knows how to do it. “I toured Scotlan' whet'et'”.
“I've never been there, but I saw it in photographs. It's an amazing country”. 
“Aye! Et'e—
Some yells outside call your attention, and you recognize the voice by heart, 'cause you have been hearing it for the last three days. Rolling your eyes and getting up, down by the scottish's gaze following you, you walk towards the workshop with a serious gesture on your face and your arms crossed above your chest. The sedan' owner is there, with Hale by his side. You're fucked. 
“She was! She was!” The blonde man is pointing at you accusatory, seeing how the sheriff rubs his eyes. “That bitch pointed me with a gun!”
“Did you?” Hale asks you with a hand resting in the butt of his own gun, hanging from his belt, and the other hanging by a side of his body.
“No, sir. I did—”.
“You, fucking liar!” The man practically jumps to you, being blocked by the SOA president, hitting him straight to his face.
Everything goes so fast that you can't even react. But the scottish is putting you behind his body, after punch the sedan' owner, with a hand thrown back slightly touching your abdomen. Hale is handcuffing him, growling and cursing at you lying on the ground by the sheriff.
“If you say anything else, I'm gonna accuse you of obstruction, do you hear me?” The cop says putting him down, starting to walk next to the car so his co-worker can sit him inside the car. “Do you want to file a complaint?”
This time is coming back towards you, with a sigh on his lips rolling his eyes. You shake your head, hiding out from Chib's back, frowning at the blonde man.
“Don' worry, sir, it's ok”. You say then.
“Tel'im fi' me that he won't get his car back”.
And without saying anything else, he turns at you placing an arm on your shoulders to urge you start to walking back to the workshop.
┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅
When your turn is already finish, you drive back home the enough time to have a shower and changing your clothes for something more comfy taking into account the plan you are going to have. You're also trying to not think that it's a date, even if it was like it sounded. And you can't help but feeling nervous parking by a side of the yard, frowning missed when you notice the fact that there's only a bike. So, your suspicions get confirmed. Actually it's not something that bothers you, after all you've heard about him. Loyalty, strength, sincerity, self-confidence, kind and polite. And an accent pretty funny. So, why not? 
“Wha' ya' thenken'?” Chibs comes from nowhere, scaring you and making you scream. 
The man starts to laugh loud, while your face becomes rude with pursed lips and a hand on your chest trying to calm your heart beat.
“Jesus Christ...”
“Dammet, rooke', it's true ya're ease' to scare!” You sigh rolling your eyes because of his words. “Com'ere, I've alrede' brought yar' bike”.
“DaMmEt, RoOkE”. You joke on him with a high-pitched tone, whilst he's laughing louder.
“Ya' amaze me, lassie. Dinnae' know you talk scottesh'”.
“What the...?” You find yourself laughing too in a relaxed way after a long time, shaking your head with a sigh, going to the workshop illuminated by some lights.
Turning over your steps you notice that the place is practically empty, guessing that Juice took off all the cars by Chibs' petition, playing fool when you find with your gaze two cardboard boxes from your favorite burger joint. Hiding your curiosity and moving your feet next to the old Harley Davidson, you let your fingers travel over the metallic handlebar. Memories crowd your head, one on top of the other, until you collapse. You still haven't driven it, because your father kept it for almost eight years on his garage, till he left. And it doesn't need a lot of fixes, but you haven't been able to get started before. You couldn't, 'cause it's the only thing you have of him.
“When was the... fers' time ya' ride't?”
Turning to the man, finding him supporting his back against the wall with a big cup of coke in his left hand, sipping from the straw. You shrugs your shoulders, taking the other drink to imitate him with your gaze on the matt black motorbike.
“I didn', yet. Alone, I mean... But by my father's back”. You say almost in a whisper. “I was five years old. We toured Cali coast”.
“Cali coast amaze me, et's a good ferst' ride”. He says then, after some seconds in silence. “Ded'ya by night?”
“Dawn, actually”. You answer with a goofy smile on your lips and your eyes on the drink between your hands, playing with the straw. “I... remember that... my father came to my room, to wake me up saying ‘let's go, bunny, adventure time’! He was very excited”.
It's the first time in years that you're talking about him and Chibs looks pretty curious about it, but you're trying not to break your voice. Smiling sideways, you stare at the scottish man, shrugging your shoulders again, not knowing how continue.
“Why ‘bunny’?”
“I like velocity”.
“Oh, realle'? Wha' bike ded'ya have before et'?”
Your cheeks turning red and your lips pursuing second by second, containing a laugh, makes him raises both eyebrows with curiosity.
“A Vespa...?” You mutters biting the straw, while Chibs laughs again. You're starting to love his laugh, no regrets. “Ah, ah, but...! I have a Mustang, so, boom!”
Your left hand imitates the typical gesture of dropping a mic, getting up from the wall to walk towards the food with innocent air, opening one of the bags with your forefinger and having a quickly look.
“Ya'hungre?” He asks then, following your steps to grab boths bags, twisting his neck in a soft gesture to tell you without words about to have a seat.
So you do, on one of the cair placed on the front yard, next to a corner.
“So, what et' needs?”
“Brakes. I need to change them. Now it has ones that are obsolete and I was thinking to put an ABS”. Leaving your drink between your feet, you take the burger Chibs is offering you to unwrap it on your lap.
“Sounds good. Do ya' have them?”
“Yea', I bought them in LA. And I think could be good change the tires, the oil and the handlebar grips, they're a little worn”.
“Tha's'ease fo' ya'”.
“Yeah, but... I didn't want to fix it, actually?”
“Why?”
“I'm scared to have an accident or something, and destroy it. I don' have anything of my father, but his bike”. Having a bite with your gaze on him, you cover your mouth to keep talking. “So, I just... was telling... myself that I didn't have time... to fix it”.
“But we're gonna do 'et!” Chibs exclaim excitedly, opening his arms for a second and holding the burger and the beer in each hand. “I know yar' father prefers to fac'ap his bike, than keep'et in a garage with dust on 'et”.
“Yea', I think so...”.
━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━
First, knocks on your door. Then your bell ringing. Palming the mattress till you find your phone to watch the clock, you read all the notifications in the locked screen. There are almost eleven lost calls from Chibs and a lot of messages. And it in silence. You practically jump off of your bed, running as never before to the main door, opening it.
“Finally! Jesus Christ, I thought ya' were dead!” 
“What happened? It's everything ok? Sorry, I just fell asleep an—”. You're talking so fast that your tongue ends up making a mess.
Chibs enraptured looking at you from top to down with a goofy smile on his lips, very interested in the Black Sabbath' shirt you're wearing. Clearing his throat, while your gaze travels to the dark van parked in front of your house. Tig and Juice are taking off of it your motorbike. Pushing him away from you, with your left hand on his chest, you take some steps barefoot above the cesped. You're face shows surprise and confusion, believing for a while that you're dreaming or something like that. 
One of his hands wrap your left wrist, urging you to look at him. You're legs shaking for a second. 
“Ya're prette' with messy hair and tha' shirt, but I wanna ride with ya'”. He says then, trying to hide his excitement.
And you want to hide yours, but you can't. You hug him, but not with a normal one. You're rousing and thankful, surrounding his neck with yours arms leaning on your toes. You know he wasn't expecting by the “oh” he mutters kinda surprised, taking some seconds till he finally is able to wrap your back and your waist pushing you closer into him, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Then, Chibs understands why Happy said like you're like a Pop Tart. He knows it tooks you just one second to make him fall in love with you and that the fact of worrying about your favorite take away restaurant, it wasn't only 'cause you're ‘the rookie’. 
The scottish have a deep breathe from your hair, starting to wish he hadn't, because he's falling a little more. And he can't watch his mouth.
“Ya' smell really good”. He tells you with a husky tone on his voice that bristles the skin of your arms.
“Honey and vanilla”. You mutter with pursed lips, before the man making you a gesture to come in your house.
You nod in a hurry, running back to your room looking for the perfect clothes to drive. A comfy pair of jeans, a vaporous shirt, your boots and a leather jacket. Keeping your principal stuff in a bag and grabbing your helmet, you walk towards the main door sooner as you can. The van isn't there anymore but your bike and Chib's one, close to yours, are parked on the sidewalk. He's already waiting sitting on his, turning on the engine when you're wearing the black helmet before keep the bag under the seat, the scottish stares at you with a hug smile and a dearly gesture on his face.
It has been eight years since you heard your father's Harley roaring, and feeling how your body vibrates on it it's simply amazing. You can't even describe how you feel right now, looking at Chibs with that gesture mixing incredulity and surprise. Pressing the brake, but also the gas, the back wheel squeaks without caring if you wake up your neighbors. 
“Let's go, lass!” 
You release the brake, letting your motorbike rolls above the road with a hoarse growl flying off from the engine, being followed by the scottish. He didn't tell you where you're going, but after five days talking about your childhood in Cali, it's pretty clear that he wants to ride the coast with you after seeing the emotions that provokes you the memories doing it with your father. You know well he wants to be part of it, part of your routine and part of your life. And you're letting him come in 'cause, why not?
You know the road by heart, touring it with the fresh dawn's air hitting your face, till it turns with a salty smell after some hours driving in silence, enjoying the landscape views. You're closer to the ocean and you can feel it inside your lungs, closing your eyes for second. Time enough to make you fly back to your childhood. The sound of the engine, the seagull, the waves breaking. Everything is the same as you remember. But you're not a child anymore, you're ridding California with Filip Telford by your side, who can say that? Only you. And it's not because who he is, but because of who you want him to be for you.
It's sunrising. In the horizon, the sky is mixed with blue, orange and soft pink. It's your favorite part of the day, but now it's different. You're /living/ it, breathing it, enjoying it totally relaxed as never before, with Chibs' eyes on you for a ephemeral instant, fully spellbound. And that's what makes it special this time.
“Don'ya thenk' it's time fo' a coffee?” He asks loud enough for you to hear him. You nod laughing, 'cause you really need it after sleeping for just four hours.
Some mills away, you finally stop in a rest area on top of a small cliff. Taking off your helmet, you walk towards the wooden railings looking down. You're too close of the sea that almost some salty drops splash your face interspersed with the sea breeze. You couldn't get tired of a place like that. The smell of hot coffee pushes you into reality, turning to Chibs so you can hold the metallic mug.
“Maybe I put some Cardhu in'et”.
“Maybe?” You break in laugh, leaning your nose over it.
“When I say ‘maybe’, et's because I alrede' ded'et”.
“So... the other night, at the workshop, maybe it was a date?”
“Maybe”. He nods, blowing his drink, before taking a drink. “Maybe that's the second one”.
“Maybe you already won me, fixing my bike and bringing me here”. Giving him your most smooth smile, you drink too, turning to the ocean while he puts an arm on your shoulders letting you rest your cheek on his. “Maybe you put a lot of Cardhu”.
“Yea', maybe”. 
319 notes · View notes
peeterparkr · 4 years
Text
perfidy;tom holland|2
chapter 2: the movie scene 
enemies to lovers au
story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.
chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss
pairing: tom holland x y/n
warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up
word count: 5.5k
previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged? 
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We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride.  It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.
Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step. 
You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest. 
But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did. 
Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions. 
You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse. 
You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws. 
And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to  time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong,  wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality? 
Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing. 
You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it. 
However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention. 
“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?” 
Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you. 
You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid. 
However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him. 
Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance. 
Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole. 
So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up. 
“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”
“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped. 
“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes. 
Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”
“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?” 
“Your interview,” Tom explained. 
He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him. 
“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked. 
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.” 
You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.” 
“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”
“There’s a cafetería—“
“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you. 
“You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.” 
He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you. 
“How are you feeling?” 
“Fine, I guess,” you admitted. 
“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed. 
“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.” 
“I didn’t know that you had-” 
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved. 
You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you. 
You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy. 
You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems. 
“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him. 
“Tom, please…” 
“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again. 
And he had turned around and awkwardly waved. 
“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.” 
“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached  and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing. 
Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit.  He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’. 
Tim walked over anyway. 
“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.” 
“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk. 
“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked. 
“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.” 
“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed. 
“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily. 
Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away. 
The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens. 
Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for. 
He grinned at you. 
“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom. 
“Morning,” you greeted him. 
He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands. 
“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out. 
“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?” 
“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.” 
Tom chuckled. 
Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?” 
“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.
“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you. 
“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.” 
Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him. 
“Yes?” Joe asked. 
 “I’m just… I’m Tom.” 
“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded. 
“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed. 
“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes. 
“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe. 
Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.” 
“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.” 
“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you. 
“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were. 
“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?” 
“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number. 
The elevator door opened up again. 
“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.”  He said as the elevator closed. 
“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?” 
“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed. 
“You… you fucking are what now?” 
“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.” 
“You’re a dickhead,” you stated. 
“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.” 
“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.” 
“Hm but it could be,” He smirked. 
“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.” 
Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.” 
“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened. 
“I don’t--”
You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you. 
“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl” 
You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.” 
“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?” 
“Now why would I want such a tragedy?” 
He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.” 
You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.” 
“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria. 
You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.  
Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.” 
“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope. 
“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained. 
“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.” 
You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?” 
“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed. 
You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.” 
“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.” 
Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you. 
“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled. 
“What?” You frowned. 
“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….” 
“Hi!” Danielle grinned. 
Joey grinned. “Hello.” 
“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?” 
He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.” 
“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.” 
He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”
“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.” 
“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.” 
“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.” 
“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.” 
He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff. 
“Leave,” you ordered him again. 
He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?” 
You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.” 
“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed. 
“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes. 
“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.” 
Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.” 
“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.” 
“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?” 
You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared. 
“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.” 
Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?” 
“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes. 
“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows. 
“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…” 
“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.” 
You laughed. “He’s still attractive.” 
“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked. 
“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly. 
“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.” 
“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly. 
“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?” 
“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.  
“Nice,” you smirked. 
“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked. 
Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started. 
“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.” 
“A new series?” You asked.
He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.” 
“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table. 
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle. 
“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious. 
Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?” 
“When is what going to end?” You frowned. 
“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.” 
“I do.” 
“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed. 
“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”
“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion. 
“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?” 
“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.” 
“Have you kissed though?”
You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.” 
“Why?” 
“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party” 
“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.” 
“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”
“Did you ask him to kiss you?” 
“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.” 
“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped. 
“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?” 
Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both. 
But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now. 
“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned. 
“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”
It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.
“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned. 
“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.” 
“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued. 
“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?” 
“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.” 
“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted. 
“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.” 
“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-” 
“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.” 
“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.” 
“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded. 
Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.” 
You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” 
“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned. 
“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have. 
“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked. 
“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed. 
“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle. 
“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted. 
“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.” 
“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”
“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?” 
You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head. 
“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.” 
“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said. 
“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.” 
“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.
“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.” 
“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned. 
“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich. 
He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with. 
“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood. 
He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk. 
“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat. 
Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that. 
You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera. 
And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends. 
But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird. 
You remembered it,  Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack. 
So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss. 
You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you. 
“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.  
You didn’t even look at him. 
“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed
You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?” 
“Yes, next question.” 
You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.” 
“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again. 
“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?” 
“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?” 
“Well, not really.” You frowned. 
He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.” 
You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?” 
“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.” 
“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.” 
“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.” 
“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?” 
Tom shrugged. 
“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely. 
He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.” 
You raised your brows. “What?” 
“Not really.” 
“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”
“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?” 
“How so?” 
“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.” 
“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out. 
Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.” 
“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.” 
Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.” 
“Then why haven’t you done it?” 
He frowned. “I dunno.” 
You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.
 “Do you think we should-?” Tom asked. 
“No.” 
“Why not?” Tom frowned. 
“Would you?” 
“I-No, no.” 
“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”
“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.” 
You stayed quiet again. 
“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.” 
“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?” 
“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.” 
“Yes.” 
“Right.” 
You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you. 
“We can’t tell anyone,” he said. 
“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly. 
He took a deep breath watching you. 
“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously. 
He leaned over but giggled and backed away. 
You laughed with him. “What?” 
“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.
“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking. 
“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.” 
“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained. 
He nodded. “Right.” 
“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.” 
And before you knew it, you were holding each other. 
Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face. 
“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face. 
You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.  
And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.
Just like you were about to throw up now. 
“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.” 
“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked. 
“Right now?” 
“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.” 
“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”
“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?” 
“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.
“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow. 
“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.” 
Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head.  “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.” 
“Wait, really?” 
“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.” 
You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up. 
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slitherofgold · 4 years
Text
I loathe you Pt 1- Sam Fender Imagine
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Standing before the mirror, you were impressed with the reflection. You had made an effort with your appearance (for once) and the result wasn’t too bad. You were looking forward to tonight, finally getting the chance to catch up with the boys who had been on tour for months. You had missed them, in fact your home town didn’t feel the same without them. The plan was drinks at your local pub- the Low Lights Tavern- just so you could catch up and see how everyone was doing. Well, not everyone. Thankfully, Drew had convinced Sam not to come for your sake. It wasn’t as if you hated the guy, but he always seemed to kill the mood with his sulky attitude and blunt remarks. It was almost as if he despised you and just couldn’t stand your company, so you kindly asked Drew not to invite Sam. 
You hopped in the taxi and headed towards the tavern, getting more eager by the second to see your friends. The pub was your guys spot, whenever someone needed to celebrate, whenever someone was sad, whenever someone needed to let off a little steam, you’d always meet at this spot. 
You walked in and instantly looked towards your usual booth.You would’ve been happy to be reminded of your friends faces, but unfortunately to your dismay, Mr Sam Fender was sat with them, blatant of your arrival. You were tempted to walk back out, to come up with some petty excuse for you to leave, but it was too late, the gang had noticed you. “Y/n!”, Dean waved you over, obviously happy to see you. You quickly plastered on a smile and strutted in their direction. You were not going to let Sam ruin tonight.
“Hey guys, long time no see.” Dean squeezed up, allowing room for you to sit. Within an instant it was like they had never left. They told you stories from on tour (like Sam threatening to break into a Greggs after a particularly messy night out) and they had asked about what you had been up to too. 
“So y/n you seeing anyone”, Drew asked, whilst side-glancing towards Sam. Great, you were going to be reminded YET AGAIN that you were still single, and you were certain that Sam basked in your sad, single loneliness. 
“Yep obviously. I think I just defer guys with my presence.”
“Obviously”, Sam muttered under his breath. You pretended to ignore him but you couldn’t help but notice the sharp glance Drew gave him from across the table. He quickly attempted to assure you. “Nah that’s not true, I knew a bunch of guys who had a crush on you at school.”
“Yeah, like who?” You raised your brow out of curiosity.
“Sorry that’s classified information. I promised I’d never tell.”
“Drew, school was nine years ago.” You folded your arms across the table, waiting for an answer. 
“Yeah but it was a pinky promise and you know how sacred they are.”
“Sure, now I’m gonna go get us some more drinks before you bore everyone with my non-existent love life.” You left the table and headed towards the bar, hoping they’d change the topic by the time you’d get back. It wasn’t as if your love life was non-existent it was just very much unsuccessful. For some reason you had a certain type for dickheads, the kind who loved to walk all over you and cheat whenever they felt like it. In a way you were grateful for your chain of ex-lovers, they had made you tougher to a certain extent, and boys knew it too. In fact, most of the time, the boys refused to meet whoever you were dating. It was almost as if they could see right through each and every bloke, and decided that any guy would never be good enough for you or their time. “6 pints please.”
“That’s a lot of pints for a small thing like you.” You hadn’t even looked at the bartender, but his voice seemed to pull you out of a trance. You quickly realised how good-looking he was. He was roughly in his late 20s, dirty blonde hair and kind brown eyes. He was charming in some sort of way and he had even kinder smile. Shit, you were still staring. He must think I’ve got something wrong with me. 
“I wish they were, but I’m pretty sure you’d have to roll me out of here if I even attempted to down all six.” He laughed and started pouring out glasses, locking eyes with you every so often. “So are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before.” God, you were cringing so bad. You knew you were a bit rusty but this ‘flirting’ was just a shit-show.
“Kinda, some of my relatives live down here but I don’t live too far either. I take it you’re local?”
“Sadly, yes. Hopefully I can get out soon if my job picks up.” You were hopeful, but it was the truth. Although you loved Shields, you didn’t wanna stay here forever. 
“It’s not too bad around here, where would you wanna go, when you do get out?”
“I’ve not thought that far ahead yet, maybe down South or maybe even somewhere else in Europe.”
“I’ll have to tag along if you don’t mind.” He folded his arms across the bar and leaned down to your eye level. God, talking to this guy was so easy, you could stare into those eyes for hours. You hadn’t even realised that he’d poured all six drinks! 
“Sure, I could use the company.” You played along, silently hoping he’d take you up on the offer. 
“Isn’t your boyfriend good company then?” 
“My boyfriend?!” You gave him an unsure glance, you were certain that you were single. 
“Yeah, the guy giving me the evils.” You turned to look. “Don’t look!” He lightly grabbed your arm stopping you from turning. “God, don’t make it too obvious”, he laughed. “The guy in the white-shirt sat with you and your friends, blondish hair?”
“Ohhhhh, that’s Sam”, you laughed. “We’re not together.” 
“He’s been giving me the evils ever since you strutted on over, I took a guess thought you and him were a thing or something.”
You snorted, “Sam basically hates me, he treats me like shit or ignores me half the time.”
“Trust me, coming from a guy, he’s definitely feeling something other than hate for you.” 
“And trust me, knowing Sam for nearly 10 years, basically makes him my brother.” You couldn’t put anymore emphasis on that, you and Sam were not a thing. Period. 
“Well if you’re adamant that there’s nothing going on between you, I’d love to take your number?” You blushed but willingly took the guys phone and dialled in your number. 
“Y/n by the way.”
“Archie, lovely to meet you y/n.” He smiled and you and you smiled back effortlessly. God, his smile really was something. 
“You too, now I’d better get back to my friends before they start screaming for their beer.” You walked on ever to the group, careful not to spill the drinks. 
“Oi oi, look at you gettin’ ya flirt on”, Dean whistled. You blushed again, knowing full well that Archie could hear. 
“See told ya guys fancied you, you just can’t see it half the time.” You instantly thought back to Sam and glanced in his direction. Sure enough, he was sulking as usual. 
“I’m going for a ciggy”, Sam announced, and with that he stood up and stalked on outside- ruining the mood once more. 
“Think I might join him”, Drew said and quickly left after him. You shrugged and sat down next to Dean once more. Dean started talking about the good old days, laughing about the stupid things you guys did when you were young. 
“Remember that one time you hit by the swing playing chicken, and Sam felt so bad he pedalled home to go get you a plaster.”
“Omg and by the time he got back, I had stopped crying and we had started a new round.” 
“He was so mad, I remember he wanted you to sit out to rest your “injured” knee. It was literally the smallest cut ever!” You both laughed at the memory. You remembered that you had argued with Sam that day, you refused to sit and watch whilst the boys had all the fun. “I miss those days man”, Dean continued, “when we didn’t have to worry about anything other than going to the park after school.”
“Yeah but you enjoy tour life right? You’re travelling, meeting new people. I’m sure you got girls throwing themselves at your feet as well.” 
“That’s one bonus, I get homesick though. Actually, Sam was saying how you should come with us when we go on tour next.”
“He did?!” The news took you by surprise. He wanted to spend time with you. 
“Yeah, he said you could be our own personal groupie”, Dean chuckled. You? A groupie for Sam? You loved there music, there was no doubt about it but you weren’t sure how you felt about him as a person. You’d known him for a while but you didn’t really KNOW him that well. He was a difficult person. 
“Yeah sounds good. I missed you guys whilst you were away.”
“We all missed you too, especially Sam. It was kind of annoying actually, he complained about you not being there with us A LOT”. God, Sam just seem to escape the conversation tonight. Everything just sounded so unlike him. It never acted like this around you, and he certainly hadn’t said anything nice about you to your face. It was definitely a shock. 
“Speaking of the buggers, I’m going to see what’s taking them so long.” You needed some air anyway, it was so stuffy inside. As you reached the door you heard a quiet a conversation. You wouldn’t usually snoop but you recognised the voices. It sounded like a very important conversation. Their voices were tense yet quiet, ensuring that no one would be able to hear. No one but you obviously. 
“Drew leave it. Nothings ever going to happen between us. We wouldn’t work. We’re two VERY different people who have VERY different lives.” Sam. You wondered who he was on about, was he seeing someone? Why did you care?
“Mate you’ve had a crush on her since we were 12. I know you still like her, and you can’t deny it.”
“Yeah and so what. We date. It goes wrong. It fucks up our whole gang. Things become awkward. The end. That’s what will happen. End of.”
“Well, you’ll never know until you try. All I’m saying is that you better man up quick, otherwise someones gonna beat you to it.”
 Wait, known since 12, fuck up whole gang, that only narrows it down to one person. Me, Sam likes me, you thought, and with that, you heard the boys stomping out their fags ready to re-enter the tavern and face you once more.
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here4theheartbreak · 3 years
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A Calculated Risk (VHope)
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⭒ AO3 Link Here!
⭒ Relationships: Hoseok x Taehyung ⭒ Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers ⭒ Final Rating: General Audiences ⭒ Word Count (Chapter): ~5.1k
⭒ Tags: fluff, getting together, strangers to lovers, anxious Hoseok, art student Taehyung, pre-slash
⭒ Summary: When Hoseok sees the crying young man on the plane next to him, he wonders if the calculated certainty of his life is really worth the loneliness.
⭒ A/N: This fic was written for our lovely sunshine Hoseok’s birthday!
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Hoseok was good at staying out of trouble. He kept his head down, his nose out of business that wasn’t his, and his hands clean. It was how he’d gotten to become the youngest sales manager in his company. At twenty-six, it was unheard of to be such a powerful figure in the industry. Yet there he was, flying to a variety of countries, meeting with powerful men and women, convincing them to sign up, make contracts, do business. He liked his job okay. He did it well, he was charming, and he enjoyed being the face of a business that did good things for the world. But a part of Hoseok felt like there was something missing. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Rather… He knew what it was, but he didn’t want to know. He was lonely as hell. Random one night stands in a variety of hotel rooms that started to all look alike across the continents, a series of failed relationships with every gender and sex – most of them summing up to a singular thing. You’re too nice. There was never any excitement in Hoseok’s life, and he liked it that way. Excitement, the unknown, these were variables that did not turn out guaranteed positive results. And that’s what Hoseok’s life was built on. Taking risks was not in his vocabulary.
So, when Hoseok found himself seated next to the stunning young man with dark eyes and big ears on the way home from Canada, despite that fact that he desperately wanted to say something… He remained quiet. And he intended to remain quiet the entire way back to Korea. It was for the best. This man looked like a risk taker. Someone that Hoseok could never make happy. 
Hoseok let his eyes slip shut, tapping out a rhythm on his arm rest. They’d been in the air for about an hour, and the young man had been staring at his phone the whole time. Easy then, to avoid contact, he figured. 
He heard a sniffle, and grimaced; hopefully the boy wasn’t sick. He couldn’t afford to catch cold. He’d need to pick up some vitamin c just in case. Another sniffle, and a shaky sigh. Hoseok scowled. He cracked one eye and peeked over. 
The young man was still looking at his phone, his blondish hair hanging down. But in the part of his exposed face, Hoseok could see tear tracks; he’d been crying. He was crying. 
Hoseok shut his eyes again, his mouth forming a fine line.
‘Stay out of it, Hobi. Not your problem. Stranger on a plane. Stranger danger. Avoid risk. Crying handsome boy is a risk.’
“Are you okay?” The words were out of Hoseok’s mouth before he was even aware of asking 
The boy looked over, sniffled, and nodded. His chin began to quiver and he shook his head no, but quickly yanked his hood up over his face, pulling his knees to his chest. 
“I’ll be more quiet,” he whispered. His voice was low and rumbly, immediately sending chills of the good variety down Hosoek’s spine.
“No, I—That wasn’t it. You just look sad. Can I help?”
The boy shook his head no. “Just a breakup.”
Hoseok winced. “I’ve been through a lot of those,” he whispered, nodding. “I know you’ve probably heard it a lot from friends, but it does get easier.”
“I know. I’m sure it will. I just can’t believe I was so stupid… Coming all the way across the world to see him and he just—” He broke off. “Sorry.”
“No, continue.”
‘What are you doing, Hoseok. This is a risk. Risks are unnecessary in your life. Stop it.’ “It helps to vent sometimes. And we have plenty of hours.”
The boy nodded and chuckled weakly, swallowing hard. “He—We met online. And we hit it off and he promised… He promised me so much. So I saved up for years while we dated.. To come to Canada. To meet him and he just… One weekend and he dumped me.”
“Did he say why?”
“He found someone else. Someone who lives there. Turns out he’s been dating him for about six months… Didn’t tell me.”
“Oh God, what an asshole,” Hoseok muttered, his face twisting up in anger. “That’s fucking low, if you don’t mind me saying. Sure, breakups happen, but to be cheating, and to not tell you before…”
“He said he only wanted me to come so he could try to get a threesome in before we broke up. Figured I’d be happy to get his dick in real life once.” The boy gasped then and closed his mouth fast enough that his teeth clicked. “Oh God, I’m so sorry – that was way too much information.”
Hoseok chuckled. “A bit, but it’s okay. You didn’t sleep with the jackass did you?”
“God no, I’m not wasting my time. He can sleep with his creepy little affair on his own.”
“Good on you.” Hoseok hesitated before sticking his hand out. “My name’s Jung Hoseok.”
“Kim Taehyung. Are you from Korea?”
“Mhm, I live in Seoul. I was in Canada on business.”
“Really? What do you do?”
“I work for a company that helps supply hospitals with different equipment. We have contracts with a lot of countries. I go and sorta try to sell them the products, make sure they’re happy with what we’re doing, contracts, deals, all boring stuff.”
“But you get to travel? All over?”
Hoseok nodded. “Pretty much. It’s one of the perks of the job. Busy, but it’s nice to be on the move. What about you? You look pretty young.”
“Says you. All that stuff, sounds like you should be forty.”
Hoseok chuckled. “I should be. I’m lucky to have this position so young. I’m twenty-six.”
“I’m twenty-four. I just finished college. Art school. So… I’m unemployed.” Taehyung shrugged, looking down at his lap. “My friend says the coffee shop he’s working at is hiring, so I’ll check that out when I get back to Seoul.”
“What kind of art do you do?” Hoseok asked.
“All kinds, mostly drawing and photography. Uh…” Taehyung turned and grabbed his carry on. He pulled out a large black binder and held it up for a second. “You probably—Is this weird?” He asked.
“What?”
“I’m a stranger to you. You don’t really care about this. Or me…”
“I saw a handsome guy crying next to me. And, in talking to him… He stopped the tears. I care.” Hoseok held out his hand, letting Taehyung hand him the binder. He went through it page by page, blown away by the talent he saw encased in thin plastic sheets. The young man had an eye for detail, and for beauty. His photography in particular was absolutely stunning. Everything from piles of rocks to buildings to people, both posed and candid. His drawn art was unique and abstract, making Hoseok turn the book this way and that to really take in everything that was going on. 
While he looked, he could feel Taehyung watching him, and could nearly sense the anxiety rolling off him. He cared what a stranger sitting next to him on a plane thought… It was sweet, and sad. 
He finally closed the book and handed it back. “You’re only twenty-four?” He asked. 
Taehyung nodded, chewing his bottom lip. “That work is stunning for your age, Taehyung. You’re really going to go a long way. I encourage you to look at companies you might not consider originally. Bigger tech companies and others that may not delve into the arts. They’re always looking for designers and photographers, and I bet your portfolio would really impress some of them. It’s probably not what you want to do long term, but a contract with a powerful company could really get you moving in the right direction. At least get you some funding if you wanted to do your own business or something similar.”
As Hoseok spoke, he could see Taehyung’s smile growing. It warmed his heart. Taehyung’s phone buzzed on his lap and he looked down, the smile that Hoseok had just put there drooping. 
“The dickhead boyfriend, huh?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung emphasized, and Hoseok nodded. “He’s trying to make up with me.”
“And what do you want?”
“Him to go the fuck away. Forever. He broke my heart, he’s not allowed to do this.”
“Then ignore it.” Hoseok shrugged. “Turn off the phone. Let me buy you a drink.”
“Wh—What?” 
Hoseok motioned to the stewardess that was making her way down the aisle. “Let’s keep your mind off the jerk, at least until you land. I’ll buy you a drink and we can watch some movies together.”
Taehyung smiled again, his eyes seeming to be searching Hoseok’s face for something. Hoseok motioned to the waitress, handing over his card. “I’ll have a beer, if you have any, and then whatever my friend here wants.”
She nodded. Taehyung smiled shyly. “Uh, I—I’ll take uh… Something sweet?” She nodded. 
“I could make you a pineapple rum, if you’d like, it’s pretty sweet.”
Taehyung nodded as well. “I like pineapple.” She handed Hoseok his bottle and his card back after popping the cap off, as well as a cup to pour it in if he wanted. She set to work mixing Taehyung’s drink and passed it to him as well before continuing down the aisle. Hoseok reached out and tapped the screen in front of Taehyung. 
“What genre gets your mind off idiot boys? Whatever you want.”
“Uh—I don’t know. I don’t watch movies that much, I guess…”
“Hm.” Hoseok flipped through the screen. “Not romance… Not drama. Tragedy. We could do comedy? Uh.. Action. Uh…” 
“That one,” Taehyung pointed at an image of a cover. Hoseok hesitated. “That’s horror.”
Taehyung nodded. 
“You like horror, eh?” He clicked it, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt. Good to know he figured – more proof this insane… Whatever the hell he was trying to do… Wouldn’t work. Those who liked horror took risks. And risks—
“I hate horror,” Taehyung said. 
“So why watch it?”
“Because it’s scary and I hate it. It’ll keep my attention so I won’t be thinking about him.”
Hoseok hesitated, thinking for a moment. He had to admit, it was pretty sound reasoning. He nodded. 
“Do you have headphones?”
Taehyung pulled out a handful of wire from his bag and nodded. Hoseok waved over the stewardess. “Do you have a jack splitter?” He asked. She nodded and dug around for a moment, handing one over to him. 
“Thank you.”
They got set up with the splitter and Taehyung pulled down the window shield. Hoseok lifted the arm rest so they could sit a little closer, sharing the same small screen as the movie began. Hoseok hated horror so much. Within twenty minutes he was gripping the other armrest, his leg bouncing nervously. Taehyung had moved almost direction against his side and was gripping his other arm tightly, his eyes wide as he stared at the screen. 
Each jump scare Hosoek and Taehyung would both jump, sharing a nervous glance and a giggle afterward. 
Hoseok reached up at one point, taking Taehyung’s hand and twining their fingers. When Taehyung blinked at him, he smiled. “Easier to squeeze if you get scared. Less likely to scream.”
Taehyung grinned that bright grin again and nodded, looking back at the movie. 
They made it through the rest of it, jumping and squeezing each other’s hands. Hoseok finished his drink and was tempted to order another, but figured sobriety would be an easier state to tackle scary movies in. When it finished, Taehyung reached out, finding the sequel and grinning at Hoseok. 
“Another?”
Hoseok hesitated, but nodded. That smile… It was something else entirely. The way his heart picked up a few beats when Taehyung rested his head on his shoulder again, twining their fingers on the seat between them. The waitress came by and smiled softly. “Can I get you two anything?” She asked. 
“We’re okay, I think. Taehyung?”
“I’m good. Thank you,” Taehyung smiled up at her and she nodded. The two turned their attention back to the film. 
Six hours and three sequels later, Hoseok heard a soft snore. He shifted as gently as he could to see, smiling a bit when he realized Taehyung had fallen asleep on his shoulder. His heart still did that little pitter-patter. This was a problem. How could he let himself fall for a guy he’d just met? A guy who was willing to fly across the world to meet a stranger? A young, handsome guy who probably took risks like Hoseok changed socks and thought that going out without properly re-lacing his shoes every morning was totally acceptable. As Hoseok sat in silence, no longer needing to focus in order to potentially distract Taehyung as needed, his mood soured. 
What was so wrong with him that people wanted nothing to do with him? He was safe, sure. And he was peculiar… But he wasn’t a bad man, he thought. Just because he didn’t take risks didn’t mean he was no fun. Or wasn’t a good person to be around. But time and time again that was the message. Not good enough. Not fun enough. Not exciting enough. 
And this – this foolish idea that had begun formulating in his head, the fantasy that maybe this young man would be willing to give him a chance – it was frivolous at best. It was an unnecessary risk. The statistics, if Hoseok were to crunch them, were sure to show that the chances of Taehyung saying yes were low enough, staying with him beyond one date even lower, and staying with him long term statistically insignificant. So he was best just getting it out of his head now, before it sat and festered like a wound. 
The film ended, as the others had, with a “dead” monster and a jump scare to leave it open, and Hoseok was too unhappy to even startle. He tugged the earbuds out and turned off the screen, sinking down a little to try and rest. And – despite his bitter mood as he drifted off to sleep – he couldn’t help but notice just how nice Taehyung felt on his shoulder.
Hoseok awoke with a good, hard stretch, blinking up at the roof of the plane. “Rest well?” Taehyung’s voice was soft and deep, and Hoseok felt goosebumps rise to his skin.
“I did. Did you?” He asked. 
Taehyung nodded, leaning his head on the back of the seat. He shifted over and pulled his legs up into the seat so he was facing Hoseok directly. “Do you have a partner at home?”
“A what?”
“You know… Boyfriend or girlfriend.”
Hoseok shook his head. “Just me on my own. I work too much for dating.”
“Not true, necessarily,” Taehyung argued. 
Hoseok half smiled. “That, and all my exes have told me I’m too boring.” He reached out and tapped the screen; fifteen minutes until they were set to land.
“Boring?”
“I don’t like unnecessary risk,” Hoseok explained. “I don’t like being surprised and I prefer to plan things so that they will – in as much statistical assurance as they can – go in the right direction.”
“I don’t see that as such a bad thing.”
Hoseok laughed. “You’d be one of the few. Most leave because I’m just too safe.”
“Sometimes people… Some people… Need safe,” Taehyung argued. He rested his chin on his knees. “I need safe.”
“You’re quite wounded,” Hoseok agreed, wondering if he was reading between the lines in the way Taehyung meant – or if it was wishful thinking. 
The two sat in a comfortable silence as the plane descended. At least Hoseok figured it was comfortable. He was anxious, as he tended to be in social situations where he wasn’t sure what the other party was thinking. But Taehyung seemed relaxed, sitting next to him, flipping through his phone. Hoseok wondered if he was reading messages from the ex, or someone new. Did people move on so fast? He didn’t know. Usually other people asked him out, and he calculated the risk based on how well he knew them – not the other way around.
The two got off the plane and headed to the luggage carousel together, not purposely, but also not purposely straying from one another’s side either. As they waited, Taehyung looked over.
“ Am I right in thinking you’re gay?” He asked abruptly. 
Hoseok blinked, hesitated… Then nodded. “You are.”
“And single. And a sweet guy who helped a crying stranger on the plane.”
“Wouldn’t you have?”
“I don’t know,” Taehyung admitted, shrugging. He snagged his suitcase from the belt. “Let me give you my phone number.”
Hoseok took his own bag. “Why?”
“So we can go out on a date.”
Hoseok smiled sadly. “Taehyung…”
Taehyung’s smile drooped a little. “Oh. I misread.”
Hoseok shook his head. “Yes and no. You are a handsome young man, and I do find you interesting and fun to listen to. But we don’t know each other. And because of that, I can’t calculate the risk of going out with you.”
“So why not get to know each other? That’s what the point of dating is.”
“True. And I could, except even only knowing you for this short time… I can say with relative confidence that you would have minimal interest in me beyond a date or two.”
“And why is that?” Taehyung asked. 
“I’m not your type.”
“Shouldn’t I decide that?” Taehyung chuckled. “You’re cute, nice, independent.”
“And utterly boring. While you’re the type that watches horror movies to feel better, and flies across oceans to meet a stranger in the hopes of finding true love. I could never take such risks. Or any risks, really. That’s why I’m not good for you.”
“Yeah, well look how good taking risks did me.”
“This time, maybe. But that’s the thing about risks. They can end badly. I don’t like that. I don’t like things ending badly.”
Taehyung sighed softly. His head drooped a little but he nodded. “I wish that wasn’t your answer, but I appreciate you being honest.”
Hoseok smiled weakly. “Look, Taehyung. You’re young, you’re handsome as hell, you’re talented. You’ll find a person to treat you right. That’s a good match for you.”
“I hope he’s like you, honestly.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough to know you’re smart and thoughtful. I hope he’s the type of person who’d help a crying stranger on a plane.” Taehyung reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s wrist. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Risks are scary, but the only way to truly be happy sometimes, is to take them. Just remember that. You took one today and you changed my whole mood – Possibly my whole week. Risks don’t always end badly, but you’ll never know unless you take them.” He let him go and sighed, pulling the handle up on his bag. “Have a good life, Hoseok. Maybe I’ll see you around one of these days.”
“Same to you, Taehyung. Keep your chin up.” Hoseok watched Taehyung walk off before heading off himself. Strangely, as he rode the bus back to his apartment (he’d calculated that the bus was far safer at this hour as opposed to a taxi), he felt… Not so sure about his decision with Taehyung. 
He’d weighed his options, and saying yes to Taehyung had seemed like the riskier option. And risk equaled bad news. That motto had always worked for Hoseok. So why did it feel so bad?
As the days passed, turned into weeks, Hoseok thought less of Taehyung. He sometimes wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he found a good job or a nice boyfriend. If he ever thought of the strange, kind stranger on the plane who turned him down in the airport. Doubtful, Hoseok figured. He wasn’t memorable enough.
Whenever he did think of Taehyung, a small, painful knot formed in his stomach. The internet had said it was probably cancer, as those sites are apt to do, but his best friend, a med student, had ruled it as simply regret. Impossible, really, Hoseok didn’t have regrets. That was the great thing about calculating risks. He was confident in his choices and therefore had no need for regrets. Except this one, maybe.
Two and a half months after Taehyung and Hoseok had departed the airport, Hoseok was having a bad day.
He’d woken up late – something he never did. He’d been forced to take a bus because it was safer than a taxi at the hour he’d be on the road, but it also made him an hour late. On the way to his office, briefcase and coffee in hand, he’d tripped – having tied his shoelace haphazardly – and spilled his coffee down his front in an attempt to prevent himself from face planting into the wall. Which meant a trip to the nearby mall – this time walking distance – to get a replacement shirt, seeing as he had a presentation… That he was three minutes and fourteen seconds late to. 
After the fiasco of the presentation, Hoseok sat outside for a few minutes during his lunch, attempting to re-gather his bearings and finish his day strong. It was working too. He felt calmer, he felt like the rest of the day would be great. Just a quick pop over to one of the quick eateries to grab a bite before his lunch hour was finished. He flipped his wrist to check the time, scowling when nothing but tanned skin peeked out of his shirtsleeve. Right. He’d forgotten to put on his watch in his rush this morning. No problem, the world was technologically advanced for a reason. He opened his briefcase and pushed some papers around, hunting for his phone. It was tucked away in the pocket. And absolutely dead when Hoseok tried the power button. 
He huffed and snapped his briefcase shut. 
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he called to a middle-aged woman walking across the sidewalk in front of him. He bowed politely. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have the time? My phone is dead.”
“Oh, of course. It’s one forty-three.”
Hoseok’s eyes bulged. He scrambled to his feet, startling the woman.
“Sorry!” He cried, bowing again. “Late back to work. Thank you so much.”
He rushed off toward the office once more, feeling even more frazzled than when he’d left for lunch. How had he sat there for a full hour and fifteen minutes nearly? He never lost track of time like that. His days were simply too busy. 
Hoseok berated himself as he turned into his office building. How had his day turned out so badly? He hadn’t done anything different the night before. There was no change in diet or weather or season or schedule to throw him off. So what the hell was going on?
Hoseok was so up in his head that he failed to see the young man turning the corner as he did. The two collided, and Hoseok went down, skidding on his butt as his briefcase, not shut firmly from his earlier panic, opened and scattered papers across the hall. The man in front of him swore then gasped as he fell as well.
Hoseok looked at him, his eyes bulging. “Taehyung?!” He spluttered. 
Taehyung gasped, yanking his headphones from his ears. His hair was shorter, a little neater to his head, and he was wearing a nice dress shirt and slacks. He had a black binder under his arm. “Hoseok!”
He scrambled to his feet, setting the binder down and going to help Hoseok gather the papers.
“How have you been?”
“Good, what are you doing here?” Hoseok asked, piling them back in his briefcase. 
“I’ve got a job interview. I mean I had one. For my art. This place is looking for a new marketing team member and I thought my photography and art might be good. Plus, I’ve improved my computer art skills too. What about you? Why are you here?”
“I work here,” Hoseok said, standing up straight and brushing himself off.
“No way, what a crazy coincidence,” Taehyung said, grinning. “They really liked my stuff.”
“We’re in desperate need of some fresh blood in that department,” Hoseok agreed. He hesitated, his heart doing a strange little stutter step now that they stood so close to one another. 
“How have you been?” He asked after a second.
Taehyung smiled a little distantly. “I’m okay. I got over the breakup. Took some time, but I’ve moved on.”
“Yeah? Found a new partner?” What a strange feeling, Hoseok thought. That clench in my chest. I hope it’s not heart trouble…
“No, still single.”
Ah, it’s released now, probably just a fluke from my crazy day.
“I see,” Hoseok replied lamely. 
“And you? Found someone perfectly safe?”
“Not really looking,” Hoseok admitted. “I mean, not opposed, but… I tend not to ask people. Ah…” He shrugged awkwardly. “When do you find out if you get the job?”
“They’ll call me later this week.”
“Ah, good. Well. Maybe I’ll see more of you around then. Must be going now…” He hesitated once more before moving past Taehyung toward the stairs. Taehyung grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Hoseok… The airport. When you refused me…”
Hoseok swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. 
“I’m glad you did. I needed time to recover mentally from the breakup and get myself back together.”
“Good. I’m glad. You’ll be all the better for it.”
“But,” Taehyung pressed, still not letting his wrist go. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about you. And my interest in you hasn’t faded.”
“Taehyung…”
“I don’t want danger right now, Hoseok. I want you to know that. I want calm. I want peace and relaxation and a steady, firm ground. Someone to support me, that I can support just as much. Someone who isn’t going to go wild, and would rather stay inside playing a board game or snuggle on the couch with a good action movie than go run a marathon. Just so you know.” Taehyung let him go, his face pinching for a moment. 
Hoseok hesitated, not sure how to respond. His hesitation must have told Taehyung something though, because Taehyung tugged a pen out of his pocket. He walked over to the entrance desk, thankfully unmanned for lunch, and snagged a sticky note from it. He scrawled on it and slapped it into Hoseok’s palm.
“It’s a risk. I know that. But think about it. I’m free this week… Pretty much all week.”
Hoseok nodded, taking the paper. “I will. Be safe… The cars…”
“I will. Enjoy work.” Taehyung put his earbuds back into his ears and grabbed his portfolio before he headed out the door. 
Hoseok watched him go before looking at the sticky note in his hand. Taehyung’s number was written on it, along with his name. Hoseok’s chest clenched again, and his stomach knotted up in that little twist. So maybe he did like Taehyung. He sighed and tucked the number into his pocket before hurrying up the stairs to try and get some work done before he ended up staying late. 
Unfortunately, the events of lunch did not lend themselves well to an atmosphere of hard work and focus. Hoseok’s mind kept drifting. To Taehyung, to the number in his pocket, to what he’d said. He wanted safe. He described exactly the type of man that Hoseok was. Safe, boring in the eyes of so many, and said that was his ideal. Was he being honest? There was no reason for him to lie, really, Hoseok figured. So why not be honest. Would it change? Maybe. Probably, if he was being honest with himself. Most of the time humans did change. But was that such a bad thing? 
Of course it’s a bad thing. Change is uncalculated… Change is a risk.
“Shut up,” Hoseok whispered to himself. He scooped up his desk phone and dug Taehyung’s number out of his pocket.
Taehyung picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Is this Taehyung?”
“Hoseok? Yeah it’s me.”
“I’m free tomorrow night. I thought I’d be free tonight but… I seem to be quite distracted and will likely not be leaving the office in time for dinner.”
“Tomorrow night,” Taehyung repeated. Hoseok could hear what he thought was a smile in his voice. “Dare I suggest… I could pick you up something for dinner. If you wanted. Since I know where you work.”
Hoseok hesitated. What if he was late tomorrow because of it? What if he couldn’t sleep? What if he said something silly to Taehyung because he was tired? “I—”
“Too big of a risk?” Taehyung offered.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Was this a mistake? I’m so strange.”
Taehyung’s laugh was bright, and Hoseok’s heart skipped a few beats. “You’re not weird. You are. But I like it. Tomorrow night is fine, but please remember to eat tonight, okay? Even if it’s something quick. You’re going to feel worse if you don’t.”
“You are likely correct.”
“Is this a cell phone?”
“No, office… My cell phone is dead.”
“Well, when it charges, why don’t you text me. You can pick a place, I’m not really all that picky about food except I don’t like super spicy things. We can decide the best way to meet up and the details then, or tomorrow morning and afternoon. Does that work?”
“That sounds good. Very planned… Thank you for being patient and understanding.”
“I want this to work out, Hoseok.”
Hoseok hesitated. “I’d say… It’s a calculated risk.”
“How are the rewards?” Taehyung asked, a grin in his tone. “Do they greatly outweigh the risks?”
Hoseok smiled a little to himself. “No. Frankly, they are… Probably pretty balanced. But with great risk comes great reward, or whatever the daredevils say, right? This reward seems too good to pass up.”
“And what reward is that?” Taehyung teased.
“Oh, one of a kind. A beautiful boy. Even better, one that is okay with me being weird and boring.”
“Sounds like a good reward.”
“I agree. So… I’ll text you when I get off work and charge my phone, okay?”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
“Goodnight.” Hoseok hung up, staring at his phone for a moment after he did. What a risk. That was a huge risk, who was he kidding?
He turned back to his computer, working on spreadsheets while going through a mental list of good restaurants for a first date. It was a risk, no denying that. But sometimes, every now and then, the reward is worth the risk.
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rexcoatlarchive · 3 years
Text
Do you have faith?
It was the Russian lostbelt. The twins and Mash and the other servants were facing off against Kadoc and waiting for Rex to arrive with backup
Kadoc: it's useless you two! You have no hope of winning!
Rikko: of course we do!
Rikka: yeah, even if we can't bring you down now, when Rex shows up with backup you're screwed!
Kadoc: what backup! You have no one! And even so he probably died facing off Ivan
But as he said that a crash was heard from behind where the twins were, and climbing up a hill nearby came Rex
Rex: whoo! Made it!
Kadoc: you actually managed to beat Ivan? Well whatever we'll still kill you
Rex: man you must really like that servant of your's huh Kadoc
Kadoc: oh shu-
Anastasia: of course he does, that's why we're going to win and destroy proper human history
Rex: well I've got a servant I love too. And she's way stronger then you ice dutchess!
Kadoc: what kind of servant can you have that's so great?
Rex: do you know her? Do you know who she is? Do you want to know her name?
Kadoc: tell me
Rex: this is who she is, she is the morning star and wind serpent, she is goddess of the west and snake of the sun
As Rex talks the earth shakes and thunder echoes out
Rex: she's the earth shaker and storm deity, she's the twin of the eyeless dog and rival to the night jaguar, she's known as Kukulkan, Q'uq'umatz, and Tohil, her symbols: the crow, the Quetzal, the bear and rattlesnake, her mount is the dragon of the cretaceous!
As Rex gets ready to finish fire erupts behind him
Rex: SHE IS QUETZALCOATL!
As he yells this, the serpent goddess flies out from the flames, slamming the ground prepared to fight the ice dutchess.
Kadoc: how the hell did you summon a literal god?!
Rex: I got my ways dickhead
The goddess was engulfed in her own flames, she seemed to be more then prepared to fight.
Anastasia: god or no I will not let my home be destroyed so easily! Now Viy! Destroy her!
Quetz: I don't think so!
As Anastasia sent out her familiar Quetzalcoatl went flying towards her, her flames burning the dutchess.
Anastasia: ah!
As Anastasia was hit with the flames her familiar seemed to disappear
Anastasia: Viy! What did you do?
Quetz: that's my noble phantasm, my flames prevent others from using their noble phantasm briefly
Kadoc: you got to be kidding me!
Then Quetz grabbed onto Anastasia and sent her flying
Anastasia: aaaahhhh!
Quetz: hyup! *she flies after her, grabbing onto to her and launches into her piledriver*
XIUHCOATL!
The two slam into the ground, Anastasia taking the full force of the hit
The destruction causes Anastasia to fade away
Kadoc: no! How did you do this?! How did you manage to summon an actual divine spirit!?
Rex: I have a Catalyst to do so!
Kadoc: how the he-
But before he finishes Billy knocks him out
Billy: that's enough out of you!
Rikko: you did it guys!
Rikka: you beat Kadoc!
Da Vinci, from the shadow border: hate to cut the festivities short but we still need to handle the tree
Rex: how are we going to destroy that?
Quetz: I have an idea
Rex: what is it?
Quetz: we use the same technique the other me used against Tiamat.
Rex: that extinction attack? But she almost used up all her mana doing that! Isn't there another way?
Quetz: I'll be fine mi amor! Trust in your love!
Rex: *sighs* fine, then use it!
Soon Quetzalcoatl is seen riding her pterosaur up into the sky preparing to use her extinction noble phantasm, combing the power of Piedra del sol and Xiuhcoatl she launches towards the tree
Rex: just in case. By my command seal! Quetzalcoatl annihilate the tree of emptiness, recreate the KT mass extinction to erase this world.
As he says this the flaming projectile Quetzalcoatl became is seen getting more intense
Rex: and by my second command! Please come back to me! We've only just reunited and I won't lose you again
The faux meteorite intensifies even more and briefly before impact resembles the winged serpent
The explosion caused by the impact is immense and can be seen all throughout the lostbelt
Rex: and in this moment, I am become death, destroyer of words.
The storm wall is seen dissipating and from his small hill perch Rex can see the love of his life fall unconscious from her attack
Rex: shit!
Rex runs towards the goddess to catch her, using magecraft to enhance his speed and propel him upwards to catch her
Rex: gotcha!
The two end up in the snow, Rex's arms burned somewhat as Quetzalcoatl was still quite hot from the attack.
The group eventually ends up back in the shadow border, the goddess still unconscious.
Rikko: will she be OK?
Rex: sure she will. She would've faded away by now if not.
Gordy: good lord was that powerful. You should've said she was capable of something like that
Rex: I don't exactly like her using it
Da Vinci: how's your arms?
Rex: fine... kinda
Holmes: you didn't have to do that you know
Rex: I guess I was caught up in my emotions. I just kinda moved, without thinking much.
Da Vinci: well try to think a little more next time
Quetz soon starts to wake up
Rex: hey there!
Quetz: hey mi amor, did it work?
Rex: it worked alright. And you're still here
Quetz: I told you I'd make it!
Rex: yes you did
Rex decides to kiss his love, since it had been far too long since the two had done so
A/N: and there we go. Had this one in the back of my mind for a while. Finally put it down on here. Points to anyone who got the reference when I was hyping up Quetz
Probably not working tags
@panyum @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @hasastolfodoneanythingwrong @castlecsejtespeakertechnician @gxymlky @grievouslyxorvia
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streets-in-paradise · 4 years
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Family Matters
Troy (2004) reader insert fanfiction - Part 5
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The option to vinculate links on words is not working right now for me, i don’t know why. I will add the links to the previous parts later. For now, all can be found in the Troy (2004) tag of my blog. 
Word Count: 2.858
Characters: Agamemnon, Menelaus, Achilles, Myceneaean Princess Reader. 
Relationships: Family relationships of the House of Atreus, Agamemnon and Achilles’ rivality. 
Warnings: Agamemnon and Menelaus being dickheads, hints of casual sexism. 
Summary: Agamemnon finds out about his daugther’s new friendship and his brother tries to stop him from making a big deal about it. 
Disclaimers: As i explained before, i try to follow Troy’s characterizations of most of the characters as much as i can. The Atrides are going to be douchebags because that’s how the movie portrays them. I just discovered i have lots of fun writing about this two scumbags, this was super fun to write. I felt them like the fun kind of scumbags while doing this. 
Tags: @yerevasunclair​ @hrisity12​ 
Thanks for reading!! 
Once the celebrations concluded and the guests started to return to their homelands the princess of Mycenae begged her father to let her stay in Sparta for a longer while instead of returning with him to their kingdom. Agamemnon didn't find major inconvenients on her request. He seemed pretty pleased with the image of family unity that the friendship of his daughter and his sister in law was reflecting. As long as Menelaus could be able to keep her under his watch and bring her back when she would wish it, he didn't have issues against it. For once, he didn't have anything to criticize. 
They discussed the topic early because she wanted to make sure of having enough time to convince him in the case of getting a straight negatory as first reply. She did it shortly before saying goodbye to Odysseus and Penelope, so she would be able to count with her biggest supporters in case of need. Before leaving, the king of Ithaca reminded her in a teasing tone to keep going with the good behaviour. The queen showed her gratitude for the help she was providing to her cousin. She hugged both of them with a great amount of enthusiasm and love. 
The situation became more complicated a short while after. Achilles was leaving the same day, joining his friend in the first stages of his travel. Without any consideration and staying true to his carefree style, he personally greeted the princess in front of her father. 
It was then when the king found out about their meeting. 
" Odysseus introduced us." she tried to excuse herself after seeing the horrified expression in her father's face. Achilles was trying to act in a cautious way because he didn't want to upset her, but the gesture was enough to make Agamemnon's blood boil and it was visible in his reaction. " It was just a formal introduction, very brief."  she lied. 
" I imagined it was a possibility. I wonder why I wasn't informed about it?"  the king recrimined her, looking at her with a deadly serious stare. 
" We didn't consider it necessary. " Achilles added. " As she said, it was very brief. Although, i felt i needed to approach her for a proper goodbye." 
" Since when do you have good manners? You are a killer beast." 
" I can be nicer when i want to be." 
Anticipating a new fight, she interrupted them in an attempt to calm them down. 
" There is no need for hostilities." 
" I didn't give you permission to speak." her father shut her up.
" You should, your rulership would be more stable if you listened to her from time to time. She is very clever and she loves her country. She told me some very interesting things about it, her eloquence makes you feel curious. She does a better job than you in selling off your unity ideal. I have the feeling that she could rule the country better than you. '' Achilles mocked him. 
She wished she could laugh openly at the comment. 
" Like if you knew anything about rulership. You are nothing more than an insolent soldier!!!"  Agamemnon replied, emphasizing the last sentence.
Before the argument could start to escalate they were interrupted by Menelaus. She felt relieved because all the work would not rely on Odysseus again. 
" What's the problem, brother? He is just teasing you." the spartan king commented in a relaxed tone. " Great joke, very appropriate. Polite but innocent. I'm not entirely sure of which one of you is supposed to insult more."  
" Why would it be insulting to me? " she asked, trying to hide her annoyance. 
" Because it is so irrelevant that it's funny. '' Menelaus started to laugh." If he truly wanted to compliment you he should have said something about your face or your hair, he could have praised anything else instead of your talent with words. You are not a diplomat, you are a young princess. That's not how you talk to a girl, that's how you close a negotiation. If all he has to say about you is that you talk a lot then he doesn't have anything too valuable. If I was your father I would be very calm about it. " 
" To praise a woman's intelligence is like to value a bird for its feet, absolutely pointless." Agamemnon added. " I must assume he is in the mood for strange jokes. " 
" Take it as you prefer, but I wasn't talking to you. "  the warrior replied, as sharply as usual.
The girl felt touched by his implícit defense. 
" It was an honour and a pleasure to meet you. I wish you good luck and a safefull return to your home." 
" You don't need to worry for him, darling. Danger itself is afraid of him. " Menelaus joked , interrupting them again. 
" I'm as used to danger as your uncle is to chaze girls young enough to be your cousins. " 
Instead of taking him seriously, the king of Sparta laughed again.
" You are a madman, but you never fail to amuse me. I think that the real reason why you two don't get along is because my brother doesn't get your sense of humour. He is a very serious man, always has been. " 
His niece was very happy because she guessed Achilles said that sharp commentary as a hint for her. From the many they had over the week, at least he remembered their deepest conversation. He took the bother of acting as her voice, saying to Menelaus at least a bit of everything she wished she could yell at him. It was a beautiful, kind gesture, more than she ever expected of him. 
She would have shown herself in absolute awe if it wasn't for the rampant rage she felt after witnessing her uncle laughing at something that would have enraged him if it would have been said by her. Pretending to keep engaged in the conversation, she defended Agamemnon. She hated to do it, but it was necessary to look less partial. 
" The weight of the crown makes him more wary but he has his moments."  
" It is the first reasonable thing i heard from you so far." he replied, with a bit of sarcasm." Go with your aunt... NOW!!" 
The young lady obeyed because she had no other choice. Without daring to emit a single sound, her gaze followed Achilles's one last time in a silent goodbye. He smiled at her with the same intention.
 She had to stand a long nagging session afterwards. Once the public gaze was no longer a concern Agammenon was free to show all his disgust and disappointment, threatening about how he was going to drag her back to Mycenae and lock her in the palace until she learned how to behave. 
She barely listened to him, her focus was almost entirely centered in her happy thoughts about Achilles. She was thinking of his beautiful blue eyes, his sweet smile, how much she enjoyed his company and how amazing he was for defending her in front of the biggest authorities of the place. He was so subtle that neither Agamemnon or Menelaus noticed anything. It felt like a last secret gift from him, something only them understood. 
Nothing else  mattered anymore. Not in a hopeless way but in a happy one instead. She was there pretending to care while keeping the happiness in her mind. It was the strangest and most amazing sensation. 
Her uncle was trying to defend her, but that didn't matter as well. She knew he was doing it for his own selfish reasons. He needed her there so she could stay to keep Helen calm, helping her to adapt and teaching her to ignore how much she hated him. She was going to use him for her own reasons as well, making him believe she was helping him when in fact her only objective was to protect Helen from him.
" Look at how happy she is. I can't be more pleased, I would love to have her around some more time" Menelaus was claiming. 
" SHE SHAMED ME!!! DO YOU WANT TO PRAISE HER FOR WHAT SHE DID TO ME ??"  his brother complained, yelling annoyingly.  
" Achilles was going to find another way to laugh one way or another. That's how he is, you don't need to punish her for it. " 
" Can you stop protecting her? We always face the same situation. She does something wrong and you want me to ignore it. Why was she talking to Achilles in the first place???" 
" Because we were in a party, a place where it is expected for you to meet people, and we were introduced to each other? "  she answered, trying to reflect some logic. 
" An introduction shouldn't last more than the time and words required to say your name and rank." 
" I wanted to make you look good in front of him. As you always say, I'm representing you. You wouldn't have liked me to act rude, you say it looks terrible in a woman. Some casual talk is needed to keep the appearances. He is important to you, I needed to keep him happy. " she defended herself. 
" Circunstancies force me to need of him, he is not important. You don't have to make him feel important. It is the worst thing you can do. Do you have any idea of how hard it is for me to deal with his ridículous pretensions???? "
" You didn't give me proper instructions on what to do. I had to guess and I did what i would had done in any formal meeting. "
" YOU TREATED HIM LIKE A KING!! He is nothing but a soldier!! You don't owe him any sort of formality, kindness or attention. He is nothing to you, NOTHING!" Agamemnon  emphasized.
Menelaus did his best to soften his speech. 
" What your father tries to say is that he thinks a soldier, despite his fame and recognition, doesn't deserve the same treatment you would give to a royal. A lady of your position shouldn't bother with him, not even regarding positive impressions. That kind of behaviour, even with good intentions on your part, feeds his idea of considering himself higher and greater than his general and king. "  he explained to her in a condescending way, like if she was completely ignorant on the matter. " You can't treat him like you would treat Odysseus. It feeds his ego and that makes things harder for your father.”
" I just tried to be nice. I heard he is a bad tempered hero who gets easily offended. " she fakely apologised. 
Menelaus was smiling at her with his usual enthusiasm. It hurted her a bit to not be able to correspond it but, in her cheerful state, fake it was easier than ever. 
" I know, you did good." he praised her." It's not your fault, you weren't sure of how to react.  Nobody prepared you for it." 
" NOW IT IS MY FAULT??? WHY DID YOU HAD TO INVITE HIM???"  Agamemnon complained, hysterically. 
" Have you seen my wife? She is the prettiest thing i have ever seen. I wanted her to be seen by everyone, you can't blame me. I bet not even Achilles himself had a woman as beautiful as mine. I had to ask him myself." 
" Did you actually ask him? His niece questioned him, laughing a bit and hiding her awkward reaction. Something of that did make her laugh for sure. Both kings were talking of Achilles like if he was a nobody that didn't matter, yet Menelaus had the need of proving himself in front of him. He made him come to his wedding so he could satisfy his masculine needs using Helen as a symbol. He wanted to show off to a godlike handsome man desired by many women that he got a particularly splendid woman he could only be able to dream of having. She was very amused while hearing his response. 
" Sure i did. He had to recognize I was right. There is no woman on this lands as gorgeous as mine. We may have our differences but nobody denies that. It's the only fact every greek agrees with. " 
" A good symbol of unity, the best idea you came up with lately. " she added, keeping the facade of cheerful approbation. 
" You always get me so quickly. That's my girl!!" he replied, hugging her sideways.
" I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR PRETTY WIFE, MENELAUS! THAT'S NOT THE POINT NOW!!" Agamemnon kept shouting. 
" Brother, you know i follow and support all your choices but you don't need to question her now. She had good intentions. " 
" Intentions don't justify terrible results. MY DAUGHTER , OF ALL PRINCESSES, WAS THE ONE TREATING HIM WITH HONOURS!! " 
" I already told you i'm sorry. What do you want me to do? Insult him the next time I see him?" she joked, fed up of his stupidity. 
"Let's hope there will be no next time. " her father assured her. " I try very hard to gradually trust you in the spaces a woman of your age should start attending. I know it is important but you keep bringing me more headaches. You are my daughter, ACT AS SUCH!" 
" Ajax says I'm lovely." she excused herself. 
" I CAN'T GET YOU MARRIED TO A BRUTE FROM AN INSIGNIFICANT KINGDOM!!" 
That was all he seemed to care about, his only obligation as a father. She was so relaxed that she barely cared about the mention of that delicate issue. Her good mood was a good push to keep inventing excuses to delay the talk.
" You have plenty of time to think about it but the world is not going to be conquered by itself. Soon you will rule every corner, being crowned as the greatest emperor of our history. I will be swimming in a sea of suitors, maybe even bigger than Helen's. This little incident will feel funny, we will be so powerful that men would embarrass themselves in front of me to get my approbation regardless of my behaviour. "
" Did you hear that? She is proud of you" Menelaus teased. 
" Of course i am. My dear father is the greatest conqueror this world has ever seen. Free cities tremble to the mention of his name. " she exaggerated to flatter him. As always, she was going to get what she wanted with lies. " I know some people like to spread lies and exaggerations claiming that you would be nothing without Achilles but the truth is that he would be nothing without you. You made him who he is, that ungrateful bastard is becoming a legend because he is fighting for you."  She said exactly what he wanted to hear, knowing she would get a positive response. 
" That's what i always say but nobody listens!! Nestor and Odysseus expect me to stand back and accept his pressures, your uncle thinks everything is a joke. That man doesn't respect me, he never listens to me! He is a threat to my position as commander of the army, I can't allow him to do as he pleases. What kind of example is that to other soldiers? To the kings whose armies are under my command???" 
" A seed of rebellion, you can't hold a weapon you can't control. That's why you do your best to keep him at bay. " she reassured him. " I'm sorry if my intervention ruins your plans. I tried to be a pleasant company to show off and make you proud. "  
Agamemnon was backing off slowly. He never used to make his changes of mind evident. She noticed it because his expression, still severe, didn't show the same rage anymore. 
" I can let it pass... for now,"  he sentenced. 
She gave him her sweetest fake smile, pleased with the outcome of her manipulation. 
" You are the best." 
" Don't make me regret it. " 
" You never asked how the meeting with Achilles felt for me. '' she reminded him, trying to stay on his good side. " He is the most insufferable vain man I have ever met. He thinks he is the best thing that happened to mankind since the flame of Prometheus. I don't know how you stand him. I deceived him because making him feel important was all I could do to keep him calmed. " 
Her lie amused both kings and they laughed in approbation. 
The young lady considered the discussion concluded in her favour. Explicit recognition was impossible, but she read it in their attitudes. Usually, hostilities ceasing and the matter being dismissed was the clearest sign. Disengaging was their way of losing without admitting it. They simply changed the subject and continued as always. She didn't even need to ask again if she could stay in Sparta, the agreement was implicit between both brothers. 
She left the family meeting with airs of triumph, secure of her possibilities. She managed to deceive Agamemnon and Menelaus at the same time. Her ability to fake was intact after all. As she handled both sons of Atreus at once, she started to feel perfectly capable to keep doing it with just one of them for the sake of Helen's wellbeing.
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voluntaryvictim · 4 years
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here's your br*nd*n ur*e rant: 
ok let me start off by saying that he's the biggest piece of shit fucking. ever. the amount of things he's said and done is unbelievable. especially the things he's said and done ON STAGE. IN FRONT OF LIKE KIDS AND TEENAGERS OR JUST PEOPLE IN GENERAL. and the things he's done and said on stream. like you have an AUDIENCE. how does it not occur to you that what you're saying is not good or acceptable??? at all?? and don't even get me started on his so-called "ApOlOgIeS". the most recent one he made (which i haven't seen and have no intention to) was about 5 minutes long and didn't even address half of the shit that had to be. it also took him fucking MONTHS to make it because he was """""learning""""". LEARNING WHAT. it's just an excuse to avoid all the shit he's getting (which he deserves). do you really think he wanted to make that? and do you think he actually meant anything he was saying? and in another apology (when he said the T slur), in the middle of the fucking video, he goes "oh thank you for the bits (donations)" LIKE WHAT. DOESN'T THAT JUST SHOW HOW MUCH HE ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT THE SHIT HE'S SAYING. and adding onto the most recent stream he did. he said that he fired that other piece of shit z*ck h*ll because of what he did. so you’re aware of what he did, right. and then he goes on to to say "he's still my friend and that he deserves a second chance" HOLY FUCKING SHIT. SO YOU STILL CHOOSE TO ASSOCIATE YOURSELF WITH A PREDATOR AND AN ABUSER AND JUST AN OVERALL ASSHOLE. that's almost hilarious if it wasn't actually scary. like it makes me feel sick. and guess what. people still choose to support and defend him. even though there's pages upon pages of the shit that he's done over the past 20 or so years. i've seen some people not only stan him, but idkhow too. like do you know WHAT, or more specifically WHO, around half of their lyrics are about???  are you fucking aware???? also have you noticed that any of the songs from panic that are actually good, aren't even written by him? fever + pretty odd were written by ryan ross. i sure as hell don't believe that the majority of vices was written by him (i think i heard somewhere that a lot was written by pete wentz so idk). a lot of too weird was written by dallon. and then after that the band went to shit. you know why? because he started to write songs, which were absolutely shit (exhibit a. pray for the wicked) in fact, this dickhead had to get other people to write some of the songs for him. he couldn't even write his own fucking songs even though he's the only one in the band. also can we talk about that. he's still using the name 'panic at the disco' even though he's the only member, and everyone else has left/been fired/been demoted. how fucking self-centered to you have to be? honestly, he would still be just as successful if he dropped the name and just went solo. (not that anyone would want him to be successful) but no, he's still riding off the fame that wasn't even all of his, just because he can and he wants to. what a fucking asshole.
sorry i'd write much more but this has actually made me tired fdskljh most of this was written on pure anger and now i've just crashed. anyways fuck br*nd*n and stan idkhow 
if you guys want me to tag anything just ask me 
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