#But it felt so nice to do something that felt normal and produced pleasing results. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

needsastoryarchive · 3 years

Text

Eugenetics

"Well, there you go... looks like the sleeping pill is finally wearing off Mr. Cavill."

''My head hurts... where I'm I? Who are you? Why am I chained and naked?!'' Henry looked around he was in some kind of lab with this creepy guy looking at him. He was short, especially compared to Cavill's large physique, a little bit chubby and hairy, wearing glasses, and had long messy hair with an unkempt beard.

''Yeah, those sleeping pills I gave you can give you some headaches, but those will wear off soon. You were hard to knockout big boy.''

''Why did you bring me here?! Who the hell are you!'' Henry tried to break loose from the chains.

''Hahaha don't even try it you may play Superman but even you can't break chains with your bare hands in the real world. Although I have to say that you played very well in those movies Mr. Cavill, from one actor to another.''

''Actor? Which movies did you play in? Is that why you brought me here so you can get a role?''

''Kind of Henry but no. You see I dreamed of being a movie star since I was little. I have done countless auditions for roles even as a background character putt somewhere in a dark corner. But did I get those roles? Not one! You know how cruel Hollywood can be, I wasn't tall enough, strong enough, manly enough, handsome enough to ''fit'' the role. While I'm a great actor! But my time to shine on the white screen has finally come, in the role of Hollywood hunk Henry Cavill!''

''I'm sorry little guy but I don't think you look enough like me to play as me in my autobiography. But let me go and maybe I can get you a nice little roll for you in one of my future movies.''

‘’I don't want to play you. I will play those roles of yours for myself. You see Mr. Cavill, rejection is a powerful motivator. You see I'm not only a great actor I'm also Head of biogenetic research of this lab. And this is my latest discovery!’’

''Uhm coffee? I'm sorry to say this to you but that's not a big discovery, sorry man.''

''Shut up! This isn't normal coffee I spent years of biogenetic engineering to create these coffee beans to... wait why would I spoil it by telling you? A demonstration makes things so much easier to understand don't you agree? Well, let me show you!''

Eugene put his coffee beans inside a machine and started the process. Soon a dark (liquid that smelled like normal coffee) came out of the machine feeling the cup in Eugene's hand.

''You see Mr. Cavill this can be done in two ways but because you're my honorable quest, I will put in the effort this time.''

Eugene dropped his pants and underwear and began to stroke his tiny dick. ''You like that Cavill hahaha'', Eugene said while his dick got fully hard and finally dripped a little bit of his sperm in de cup of coffee.

''Oh god you're a sick perverted man Eugene let me go and I will help you to find the right treatment I will even pay it for you!''

''I don't think that's necessary Mr. Cavill now just open your mouth and swallow.'' Eugene brought the mug to Henry's lips.

''No get away from me fuck off with that shit, you're disgusting!''

''I anticipated that you might not want to cooperate like that, so I brought some help''. Eugene took a funnel and placed it between Henry's teeth, and poured the sperm-coffee down Henry's throat.

''Ugh ugh ugh why do you do this to me, man?! What the meaning of all of this! Ugh ugh! Shit, I don't feel so good what did you... you do to me?''

''Don't worry Mr. Cavill you will soon see the results'', Eugene said as Henry's vision slowly became blurry and then he passed out.

...

''Henry slowly opened his eyes. ''Ughgh what happened I had the weirdest dream ever. There was this guy that kidnapped me... and he cummed in his coffee... and he made me drink it! Ugh gross!''

''Weird dream indeed'', said a familiar voice.

''Who...who is there? I can’t…I can’t see, why is everything so…so blurry?” Henry asked, squinting his eyes.

''I guess that's what you get with my eyes was born with bad vision. Maybe it helps when you put these glasses on.''

''Wait a sec Eugene?! Why do I have your eyes? What the fuck is going on?” Henry said, a bit agitated, and a little scared.'' Henry felt the glasses being put on and his vision became clearer.

''Why am I looking at myself? Why do I look so unkempt? How long have I been out?''

''Oh this''? My doubleganger said as he stroked his messy beard. ''I guess some of my shagginess remained. The genetic transfer isn't perfect yet but it works for 99.8% as you can see.''

''Eugene is that you?!'' Henry said in shock.

''In the flesh... well your flesh HAHAHA. Well, do you think I could play you now in your autobiography? HAHAHA!''

''But how did you do this?'' Henry asked still in shock thinking he was still dreaming.

''I told you I spent years of biogenetic engineering with a focus on genetic trade between two separate genetic organisms. It was planned to be only used for plants but I have developed it further so now it also works between humans. And you Cavill were the perfect genetic package. All that's needed is sperm from one of the two participants and the transfer is activated.''

It couldn’t be…but, then how else could he explain it? Eugene had somehow managed to switch their genetic code. But then it dawned on Henry that if Eugene had his genetics what did he have? Henry looked down... everything he had since conception was gone. He was nothing more than a plump, sloppy hairy dwarf. Eugene had given him his horrible eyesight, and Eugene had in exchange taken his 20/20 vision. He felt how he’d always imagined waking up old must feel–sore joints, aching back, just a tired body more prone to inertia than anything else, it was clear Eugene never exercised in his old life.

''Yeah, those genetics you now got are crap I know. But my genetics had to go somewhere when I got yours. It's not a surprise that you're still a little bit in shock it's a big transition, from being used to this to what you're now. But you will get used to it.''

''Eugene please can give me back my genetics, they are mine, not yours''.

''No,'' Eugene said in Cavill',s charismatic voice, without even thinking about it.

''No?'' Henry said, ''No?!'' What the hell?! ''''Those are my eyes, you fucker, and my hair! That whole body that you are illegally occupying is mine!"

“Well they’re mine now, so fuck that!” Eugene snapped back, “I’ve had fucking glasses all my goddamn life, grown out since middle school, and fuck no, I’m not going to go back to what I was, fuck that,” Eugene grinned at his reflection, I’m not going to be a piece of genetic waste anymore, you are! I’m now a genetic masterpiece!”

''I'm now 1,85 m tall, strong buff, and healthy. And that all with a handsome face like this. Oh, I almost forgot the best part'', Eugene grinned and unzipped his pants, pushed down his underwear, and hauled out a thick, seven-inch cock already drooling precum cock. ''Remember this one, hahaha! Henry readily recognized it as his own. Gulping, and still feeling helpless, he looked down to his crotch, already humiliated, and he looked at his now shriveled tool, barely two inches long, and he could tell, instinctively, that at best it could reach half-mast.

“You–you took my cock?” Henry asked.

''Of course–the women are gonna love this thing when I ram it up their cunts during sex scenes and outside.'' Eugene said, flexing his new muscular frame, ''See, because this is where we’re different Cavill, see, I saw in you, I saw your biggest flaw–you’re a fucking loser. You simple don't deserve these genes but I do.''

''But...''

''Don’t try to deny it, I can see all of your fucking flaws, you fucking worthless piece of shit. See, I’m genetically superior and women will be begging me to fuck them, and film producers will give me the best roles. But you, you’re fucking worthless, so why in the hell shouldn’t you just be a storehouse for all the failed genetic mishaps of the human race?”

''You won't get away with this Eugene! People will notice something is off!''

It's ''Henry Cavill'' now and don't forget I'm a great actor. Besides I look like Henry Cavill, I sound like Henry Cavill, I... (*sniff*) smell like Henry Cavill, I even own the cock of Henry Cavill!

''I... I'' , the real Henry Cavill was speechless.

''Yeah I already thought so, but if you don't mind I'm going to freshen up, maybe also a shave. Have to make a good impression on that talk show tonight. Don't worry ''Eugene'' I will leave the TV on so you can watch me''.

*Later that evening...

''Good evening everyone, this show we have amazing actor Henry Cavill joining us ! I have to say Henry you're looking sharp tonight how do you do it?''

''Hahaha thank you. What can I say see maybe it's just all in the genes.''

''So you say I'm a hopeless case?'' The presenter asked.

''You never know what can change in your life you never know.''

#male body swap #male body switch #needsastory

201 notes · View notes

btsslowburnfic · 3 years

Text

The Arrangement Ch. 15

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Your attempt to help your brother move result in Yoongi meeting your family -_-

Previous Chapter here

TW: as previously mentioned, YN and her brother were abused by their dad. It is mentioned by her brother. Trigger will be labeled before and after by ** ** Yoongi’ song “The Last” is also referenced at the very end, which implies thoughts about self-harm/suicide attempt. But it’s a good, long chapter! There is fluff and humor in it too!

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

Late last night you received an email from your brother’s school informing you a dorm space had opened up and he could move in as soon as possible. You wanted to check and make sure there wasn’t anything else you should be doing today before you rented a van.

You put on your robe and headed out to the main living area. Half the coffee pot was already gone and you heard light movements from upstairs. You wondered if Yoongi was prone to hangovers or not. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and heard Yoongi pad down the stairs.

“How are you feeling today?” You asked without looking up from your steaming mug.

“A little dehydrated but fine.” He passed you as he headed over to the sink for water. “Really? We’re just wearing robes around the house now?”

You waited, slowly savoring the taste of the hot bean water in your mouth. You swallowed. “You were in your underwear the other day. I think the robe is fine.” You turned dramatically and looked at him. “Unless you prefer just underwear?”

“Aish, don't remind me.” He waved in your direction as though he could dissipate the memory with his hand. It was too early for flirting.

You laughed. “Hey, if it's OK, I'd like to go help my brother move today. A dorm space opened up for him and I'd like to get him settled in before school starts again tomorrow.”

Yoongi leaned against the counter, “Yeah, that's fine. You should do that.”

“Great, thanks!” You turned and went back to the bedroom to get dressed.

When you returned to the main area Yoongi was gone, you didn’t bother checking by the door as you grabbed your purse and slipped on some shoes. You texted your brother to remind him what time you would arrive and then hopped on the train to the car rental place.

Fifteen minutes later you walked in, produced your driver’s license and payment and were then declined.

“What do you mean? I already prepaid online.” You asked the attendant.

“It’s not the payment, it’s your license. You rented the cargo van. You don’t have a license to drive that vehicle, it’s level one.” The man explained, gesturing to a garage full of vehicles as though that explained anything.

“Isn’t it just like a regular van but big?”

“No ma’am it’s more like a box truck. I can get you a regular van but I can’t refund your rental of the cargo van because it was a day-of rental.”

“I had to enter my license to rent the van. Why does it authorize licenses if they aren’t the correct type?” You asked, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, probably, but that definitely seemed like a crappy thing for the website to allow.

“I understand that ma’am but the website will allow anybody to pay for the van and the driver’s license check is very basic and checks to see if you have one, not the level. Now, would you like to rent a regular van?”

You stood there for a minute weighing your options. “Give me a minute.” You walked over to the waiting area and took out your phone. You opened the BigHit employee portal and scrolled through the services. There were so many options: food delivery, laundry pick up, chauffeur, pet walking, but nothing about hiring a driver for other vehicles. You groaned and dialed Yoongi’s number. Normally you would text but you felt like there was too much to say. The phone rang a few times.

“Hello?” It was surprising to you how deep his voice sounded on the phone.

“Hey...I'm sorry to bother you. Does anybody at the company have a Level 1 driver's license that I can like request via the app? I didn't realize the one I rented is for a license I don't have.” You paused. “This is so embarrassing.” Silence extended from the other side, making you feel awful, like you had probably interrupted something important. You began again, " I can maybe just do it next weekend. I can find somebody by then I'm sure. It’s fine. What’s one more week.”

"I can drive it."

You felt awkward having Yoongi do it."Noooo. Don't worry about it. I can do it next week. I’m sure I can find somebody.”

“Aish send me the address. I'll do it.” He replied, starting to sound irritated.

“Were you busy? You don't have to.”

“You know the company phones have GPS trackers in them? But it will be a hell of a lot faster if you just send me the address.”

You sighed, “Ok. Thank you.”

“See you soon.”

You awkwardly waited at the rental agency, kicking your feet in your chair like a little kid waiting for their parents. After about half an hour you heard the door ding and saw Yoongi walk in. He had traded his sweats for jeans, but otherwise had the same casual shirt and expression.

“Hello sir,” the desk attendant greeted Yoongi. “How may I help you today?”

“I’ve been told I’m here to drive a van.” Yoongi looked your way.

"Oh, are you here for that one?" the guy at the counter gestured at you.

Rude.

Yoongi smirked, “Yep. That one’s mine.”

Your jaw almost dropped. Fucking brat. You walked over. "It's a good thing you're being so helpful darling." You gritted between your teeth. You watched as Yoongi handed over his license and had it scanned without any issues.

“Here you go Mr. Min.” The attendant handed him the keys. You heard him laugh as he took them. He started to walk out to the rental garage with you following.

"’Thanks for coming. I do appreciate it."

"It’s no problem. I mean. You, once again, will owe me dinner. But other than that. It's nothing." He clicked the remote to find the right van. "Why are you renting such a big ass van?"

"Because my family doesn't own a car and I'm an idiot. The website didn't make it look that big. I put in my license and it let me rent it. Don’t you think it should deny it if it knows you can’t drive it?" The two of you stopped in front of the cargo van. It was big. But not that big, you scowled.

"Oh man. I used to drive so much music equipment around in my shit van. This brings back memories." He climbed into the driver's seat. You walked around to the passenger side and stepped up as well. "And lucky for you, I came prepared today." He popped in a CD he'd been stowing in his coat pocket.

"Oh my God. You are the cutest." You said, somewhat accidentally, out loud.

Yoongi paused, and looked over at you. "I am not cute."

You smiled and pinched your fingers together. "A little bit."

He shook his head and put his hand on the gear shift. "Nope. Cue up the GPS."

"The tiniest cute." You typed in the address.

"Feared rapper and music producer. Ice King. Loner. It's in the lyrics, you should listen." He turned the car audio on.

"OK cutie, I know you have stuffed animals in the loft area."

He held a finger up to his lips. "Quiet woman, I'm driving."

You laughed and relaxed into the seat. "I fell asleep on track 5."

He pushed some buttons and you settled in for the car ride.

Yoongi was thankful for the excuse of looking at the road so he couldn’t see your expressions as you listened. He put so much of himself in his lyrics, it was like taking his heart and mind out of his body and showing it to other people. Which for some reason felt fine when it was complete strangers, but felt so weird with someone he knew. He tried to play it cool. He knew he was two songs away from his most personal track.

“Ok, turn in here. We can park here for up to two hours without a permit.” You guided him near an alleyway next to your Aunt’s apartment. You sent a text telling them you were here. “Thanks. You can wait here if you want. I don't know how much packing there is left to do. Sorry. I just got the email this morning. There are also some coffee shops around here or some restaurants. I’m not sure what---”

Yoongi unbuckled his seatbelt and cut you off. “Hey. You don't have to do this by yourself. OK?” He opened the door and got out before you could respond.

You took a few deep breaths and exited the van, walking around to the front to lead the way to the apartment. “Ok thanks. Also I apologize in advance for my Aunt.”

“She won’t be the first Auntie I've met,” Yoongi smirked. “Don't worry, Aunties and Grannies love me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Also sorry in advance for my brother. He seems rude, but it’s just because our family life was so fucked up. He’s a good kid.”

“Hey, I can relate,” Yoongi opened the door for you. “It’s fine. Really.”

“Ack, I don’t think I can do this.” You turned and faced him.

“Do what?” Yoongi asked, perplexed.

“Have you meet my family. It’s. We’re all weirdos. The apartment is so small. It’s embarrassing. I already feel bad that you came and helped me.” You spew out everything at once, your anxiety levels suddenly spiking.

Yoongi sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “Hey. It’s fine. I was going to meet them eventually anyways right? Might as well be before the wedding,” He teased you.

You were surprised. This was the first time he had mentioned anything about the other part of your contract. It had always been you teasing him about it.

“I guess so.” You took a deep breath. “Ok. Just...please...Remember. We’ve been through a lot.” You suddenly felt so vulnerable as you pushed the elevator button. You led the way to your old apartment and unlocked the door.

“Aunt Vi, I’m here.” You yelled from the foyer as the two of you slipped your shoes off.

“Oh finally, I was getting worried, you’re over an hour late and you're usually so prompt and hello young man.” Aunt Vi stopped dead in her tracks as she arrived in front of the two of you.

“Hello. Min Yoongi, nice to meet you.” He bowed.

Your Aunt gaped like a fish for a moment and eyed you. “Yes of course, I’m Vi.. And this is…?”

“My boss, Auntie. He drove the van today. Apparently giant ass vans need a special license.” You smiled sheepishly.

“Do not use such language in front of your boss, young lady.” She scolded.

Yoongi cleared his throat to hide a laugh. It was unusual seeing someone boss you around for a change.

“Yes of course, sorry Auntie. I’m very sorry, Mr. Min.”

“That’s better. Now come in. You, help Jihoon pack, Mr. Min come join me for tea.”

She turned around and you gave Yoongi a stank look while he silently laughed at you. You flipped him the middle finger while he acted offended.

Auntie Vi turned around, “That is of course if he wants some.”

The two of you pretended to be perfect angels once again, “That would be lovely Aunt Vi.” He responded, sounding like a boy scout. You rolled your eyes at him the minute your aunt turned her back. You left the two of them as they headed to the kitchen and you went to the living room.

Your brother was packing up some books into one of the boxes when you walked over.

“Hey. Make sure the books go into a few small boxes instead of one big one, or they’ll be too heavy to carry.” You said as you grabbed another empty box and started to pack some things.

“Yeah ,ok. Those other two boxes are books as well. There should be a bookcase in the dorm. I think all my friend’s rooms have one.”

“Ok great, I’ll label them.” You walked into the kitchen to grab a sharpie and briefly overheard Vi and Yoongi. Yep. She was in love, you smirked and headed back to help your brother.

You were surprised when you walked past the hallway and saw two blankets on the floor, slowly moving. You smiled and paused, “Huh. What strange moving blankets.” You heard a set of giggles and continued on your way.

Your brother and you continued to put items into boxes and the blankets continued to slowly wriggle down the hallway until they made it to the corner. Your sister and niece sat up and pressed their tiny bodies against the wall, straining to see who the mysterious voice belonged to. You looked over and smiled.

Aunt Vi paused for a second and heard the faint sound of giggles and “shhhh”

“There better not be any little girls eavesdropping,” She said. Everyone in the apartment heard the sounds of stomping and running down the hallway, followed by a door shutting. Vi sighed and Yoongi laughed.

You set down the roll of tape and walked back to the bedroom. "Come on out girls." You led the way for them down the hallway. They nervously stood in the kitchen in front of Yoongi and your Aunt.

“Mr. Min, this is my sister, Hayoon, and my niece, Sooah.” You introduced them as they bowed deeply, as though they had been preparing for this moment for their whole lives.

Yoongi smiled warmly at them, “It’s a pleasure to meet you ladies.” You could see your niece already blushing. These girls were boy crazy already and you were sure they would relive this moment over and over again. They managed to squeak out a “you too.” Before they looked around awkwardly about what to do next.

“Alright girls, either help move boxes or git.” You prompted them. They looked at each other and then scrambled back to the bedroom, giggling the whole way. You sighed and went back to packing. Fortunately since your brother was living on the couch, he didn’t have a lot to pack. In retrospect you probably didn’t need the van. Oh well. Better to be over prepared than underprepared, you mused.

You walked into the kitchen, “Excuse me, may I have the keys please? It’s time to start loading.”

Yoongi stood up, “Yeah sure, let’s go.”

You looked at him, “Oh no sir. I could not expect you to carry the boxes. Keys please.” You held out your hand.

Yooongi scoffed, “I can carry boxes.”

Aunt Vi quietly cleared her throat, “That would be too much surely. Won’t you please sit down and I’ll make you some lunch.”

Ah the intersectionality of age and class rank here were making your head spin, but you knew that he couldn’t turn down lunch from your Aunt, even as she turned around and he placed the keys in your hand while making a very strange face you couldn’t quite identify. You raised your eyebrows. Taking the keys, you pulled out your phone.

YN: She’s a good cook, don’t worry. Sorry this is taking so long.

You and your brother each grabbed some boxes and started to move them out by the elevators. After about fifteen minutes you checked your phone.

YG: I feel weird not helping

YN: You did help, you drove the van

YG: That doesn’t count

YN: Yes it does

You returned to the apartment where you saw Yoongi had somehow inserted himself into the kitchen and was cooking alongside Aunt Vi. That’s it, you thought, she’s never going to not mention him again. You sighed. Grabbing the last few boxes you and Jihoon began to fill the elevator and slowly move the items closer and closer to the van. An hour later it was all packed up.

“How was your soup?” You asked as you came back into the apartment, ripping off your sweatshirt. You had started off cold, but were now glistening with sweat.

“Really good, thanks again Auntie,” Yoongi looked over to Vi.

“Oh please, he’s the one who ended up doing most of the cooking. Are you single Mr. Min? Are you allowed to date your employees?--------”

Oh God it was happening, you were shocked it had taken this long honestly.

“Because even though YN isn’t much to look at, she’s a very hardworking girl.”

“We gotta go. Time to leave. Is there any leftover soup for Jihoon?” You asked as you cut her off and started scrambling around the kitchen for a takeaway container.

“There’s plenty of soup, grab some for Jihoon. Not for you though, you don’t need the calories.”

Oh God she was going full blown Auntie on your ass. Help. You looked over to Yoongi, mortified, but he was just standing there, the tiniest smile playing on his lips. He briefly flicked his eyes in your direction, causing you to feel flustered.

“Anyways, you should keep her in mind. Our family is unlucky, but we do try to make up for it.”

“I have the Soup, can we please leave now? We have to return the van.” You grabbed your purse, sweater, soup, and coat.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi said calmly. “Thank you for your hospitality Auntie. I hope to see you again soon :] .” He walked over near the door, put on his coat and took the soup from you.

“Put your coat on.” He chided

“I’m sweaty.” You responded

“You won’t be when you get back outside.”

You huffed but complied anyways. The poor man had suffered through an hour and a half of your family, you weren’t about to argue with him.

Your brother was waiting in the van with his headphones on listening to music. You climbed into the middle seat.

“Oh my God I am so sorry.” You said the minute the door closed.

“It’s fine. Like I said, not my first Auntie. She’s nice.”

“She called me ugly and told me not to eat.” You whined. “Hey...speaking of you called me ugly too the first time we met.”

Your brother took off his headphones; apparently interested in this conversation.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. “Did I say that to you? That doesn't seem like something I would say.”

“Well, no. But you didn’t disagree with me when I said it.” You side eyed him.

He laughed, “I think you know you’re not ugly. You don’t need me to tell you that.” He pulled out onto the main street.

“I don’t know. Having heard it every day of her life growing up, it might not be a bad thing to not say to her.” You heard Jihoon say from next to you.

You tensed up briefly. “Jihoon, it’s a joke. Everyone else at the interview was literally a supermodel. Everyone.”

“Sorry. People calling my sister ugly doesn’t seem very funny to me.” He said and moodily turned to face the window.

This was the kind of awkward you were worried about. “Sorry. Jihoon is a little protective. Also he doesn’t understand jokes.” You tried to lighten the mood by teasing. It did not work.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny. I understand that.” He said snidely from the passenger’s seat.

You sighed, “Anyways, thanks again for driving. You’ll turn right here and then there should be signs for the school in about 4 kilometers.”

Yoongi was very quiet. He didn’t want to piss your brother off again. You pushed play on the audio, welcoming a change of pace from the quiet. To your shock, he hit the pause button. “Let’s listen to it later.” He said quietly to you. He didn’t think the lyrics would put your brother in a better mood and he also didn’t particularly feel like sharing the vulnerable side of himself at the moment.

“Is it normal to tell someone they can’t listen to music in a car? Asking for a friend.”

“Stop being an asshole Jihoon. Mr. Min was nice enough to drive the van for us today to move you into the dorm. And to give me a job to pay for the dorm. You need to be more respectful.” The phrase came out of your mouth before you could even stop it. It was a triggering phrase for both of you and you instantly regretted it.

**************

“Right.” Your brother said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Be more respectful. Just because someone’s older than you they deserve your respect no matter what. That’s what dad always said while he was beating us, remember?”

***************

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep your cool. “Oh my God. You’re supposed to be working through this shit in therapy not in a fucking moving van with me and my boss. I am so sorry.” You said to Yoongi who was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t in the van at that exact moment.

“I didn’t ask to be in a moving van with you and your boss and I didn’t ask to be moved into the dorms today.” He argued back.

“You’d rather still be on the couch at Aunt Vi’s? I can unload all this shit and cancel your room. I can totally do that right now.” You snapped at him.

Jihoon huffed angrily. Such a moody teen.

“I’ll take that as a “no”,” you responded. “Yoongi, I am so sorry.”

“For the record, does your boss know our dad's a fucking psycho?” Your brother said in English. You had done terribly in English and hadn’t touched it since High School. You understood the word Fuck though and were getting ready to scold you brother

Yoongi didn't want to overstep his bounds, but at the same time, your brother was being a rude little shit. The whole reason you had agreed to marry a guy you didn’t know was to take care of this ungrateful child. Before he could help himself, he responded in perfect English, “Yeah, I heard you dad was an asshole. And I'm sorry that happened to you. It shouldn’t have and it really sucks. But your sister works her ass off for you.”

Yoongi was pissed. You could tell that much by the tone. You understood sister and that was about it. Or maybe he said sweater. But it was probably sister.

Your brother was clearly surprised by whatever he heard and also mildly irritated. “What do you know about any of that?”

“I know that in her job interview all she talked about was you and your little sister and how she worries about the two of you and that’s why she took a job where she is on call 24/7 and why she’s worked 2 jobs for the past 7 years.”

You understood the number 2. That was it. This was a passionate discussion on Yoongi’s part. You were getting ready to speak after several seconds of silence filled the van.

Your brother twisted his body and looked at Yoongi. “---Do you….do you like my sister?””

More silence. What the hell were they talking about?

Yoongi cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, continuing to look straight ahead at the road. “I do. And we’re being rude by having a conversation that she can’t understand. So please stop it.”

Your brother paused for a moment before replying in Korean ”… Yes, hyung.”

“If he's being rude let me know and I'll take his lunch money. I will literally untransfer funds.” You said, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “I know how to say “fuck” in English and I definitely heard it.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Yoongi replied. “Here, we can also listen to the word ‘fuck’ some more.” he turned the music back on. Since everyone else was having free therapy in the van, why not join? One song played before you all arrived at the dorms.

“Go round up some strapping young men to carry these boxes. I have to find your RA.” You told your brother as Yoongi parked the van. He hopped out quickly, all too eager to escape. You rested your head against the headrest and pushed your hands against your eyes. “I am so sorry. Today has been a total nightmare. Worse than I even imagined.” You said, feeling like you might cry.

Yoongi sat there for a few seconds, reliving the afternoon. It had actually been mostly fun for him. “I had a good time. I got to meet your family and I got free soup.”

You looked over at him slightly bewildered. “We need to raise your standards for what a good day should look like Yoongi, because this was a total shit show.”

“Hey, don’t cry. I hate it when people cry. Your brother has been through a lot. It’s fine. Really. I too was an angry rude teenager and I didn’t have nearly as good of a reason. Come on, let’s finish this shit and get the van back.” He unbuckled his seatbelt.

You followed suit and entered the dormitory, following the signs. You introduced yourself to the RA, got the keys, and found your brother and two other guys standing outside the van. You recognized the one kid.

“Hey Noona,” He waved. You liked that one.

Yoongi had apparently started unloading the boxes while you were meeting with the RA. You picked up one of the smaller boxes and headed up to the dorm. With the 5 of you, it didn’t take long to move all the boxes into the dorm. You placed the soup into the mini-fridge. You sighed and looked around at the mountains of boxes, “Ok. Do you want me to stick around for the unpacking or….?”

"No. We'll get it." Jihoon responded and walked with you out into the hallway. Yoongi was leaning against the wall near the elevators, scrolling through his phone.

"Thanks. And I'm sorry about earlier." He said looking down.

"It's OK, come here." You pulled him in for a hug. He was taller than you. When did that happen? You squeezed extra tight and then pulled away, "Make sure to answer my texts or else I'll show up here. And I have your RA’s number. Got it?”

"Yeah yeah." he looked around.

You looked up at him and brushed some invisible dirt off his shoulder, "OK. I love you. "

" I love you too. "

With that you turned and joined Yoongi by the elevators." Let today end please. " You said, crossing your arms in front of your body.

"Nope. Not yet. You still owe me dinner," he commented as the two of you entered the elevator.

You sulked , "You got soup."

"You haven't eaten yet."

You shrugged. It was true. But you were upset and when you were upset you either wanted to eat everything or nothing. Today you felt like nothing.

The two of you climbed into the van one last time. You rested your head against the window and listened to the music. Yoongi gripped the steering wheel tightly as ‘The Last’ began to play.

He glanced a look over at you. Your jaw was firmly set and he saw tears rolling down your cheeks. Shit. This was not a good day for this. He paused the music.

"Sorry, that's pretty heavy for today isn't it?" The car came to a stop at a light and the silence was palpable.

You breathed out, trying to keep it level. "Sorry, just. You and my brother have that in common." You wiped your eyes as you tried not to cry. You took pride in generally being pretty stoic and good-natured.

The light turned green. "I guess we're all just fucked up, huh?"

You sniffled. "Yeah. It just hurts my heart to think about a world where you or my brother don't exist."

Yoongi felt like someone had hit him with a ton of bricks. He swallowed through the lump forming in his throat as he managed a response, "Well, we're still here. That's what matters. Right?” He tried to sound positive.

“Yeah. I’m glad for that. Turn left.” NEXT CHAPTER @lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah

#bts writing #bts fic #bts suga x you #suga x you #yoongi x you #bts yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #bts suga x reader #suga x reader #suga x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n

94 notes · View notes

veniteme · 3 years

Text

Hunting for Gems

episode 1

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

1k words

Show Me the Money X Episode 1 – Round 1: Rapper Selection

The first round of Show Me the Money X is underway. Over 20,000 rappers auditioned, and today they are all gathered at the venue. Contestants rap a cappella in front of one of the producers, who will decide whether or not to give them a necklace.

Countless rappers are lined up in rows or sitting on benches lining the walls, waiting for their turn to be evaluated.

Staff: We will be announcing the next producers to come out now!

All the contestants turn to the large doors at the end of the large space.

Staff: Ash Island and Saf!

Light applause fills the room. Confusion can be seen on many contestants’ faces.

[Contestant 1: Sap? Saf? Never heard of her.]

[Contestant 2: Oh, I know Ash Island! Saf? Sorry, no I don’t know who that is.]

Saf: Well, guess I’ll just have to work harder for them to know me then!

She just laughs it off. Ash Island scoffs.

Ash Island: How many songs did you work on last year? If you work any harder your hands will fall off.

Ash Island and Saf part ways at the door, starting their evaluations on opposite sides of the room. Ash Island greets his first contestant with a bow and motions for him to begin. As he raps, Ash watches him, eyes partially covered by his bangs. The contestant, seeing Ash’s intense gaze, pauses for a moment partway through his rap. Without hesitation, Ash mutters a thank you and moves on to the next contestant.

[Contestant 1: His stare is very intimidating.]

[Contestant 2: He was so good-looking, I got distracted during my rap.]

This pattern continues: rapper begins, rapper makes eye contact with Ash, rapper messes up, Ash moves to the next rapper. Despite some rappers not even making a mistake, Ash still interrupts most of them with a small “thank you” and moves on.

In comparison, there almost seems to be an angelic glow surrounding Saf.

When a contestant makes a mistake, she smiles and nods, encouraging them to continue. With all the contestants she turns down, she still gives them small tips on how they can improve.

[Contestant 1: Even though I failed, she made it not feel as bad.]

[Contestant 2: She was so nice, I think I’m in love.]

Ash Island: Seems like a waste of your time to me.

Saf: No it wasn’t!

Ash Island: Come on, you’re experienced enough as a producer. I bet you could tell within the first ten seconds of their rap if they should pass or fail. Am I wrong?

Saf: No...

Ash Island: So ultimately you wasted both your time and theirs. What’s the point of all the formalities if you’re just going to fail them anyway? Either way, for them, the results are the same.

Saf appears to be contemplating this statement for a while, before finally coming up with a response.

Saf: But why do you consider being nice to people a waste of time?

-----

“What was I even supposed to say to that?” Ash asks his labelmates in exasperation. Leellamarz and Changmo are laughing almost hysterically behind him.

“Man,” Changmo finally breathes. “If the whole world didn’t think you were a terrible person before, they sure do now.”

“Thank you, I really needed to hear that,” Ash deadpans. Why does he keep watching these clips with the guys, again? Oh right, they’re forcing him to.

“And that is why you should never argue with a girl, dude.” Hash gives Ash a solid pat on the shoulder as he says this. Lesson learned: don’t question anything a girl does.

-----

You take a deep breath to calm yourself... then proceed to frantically dial Rohan on your phone.

Knowing what this is about, he answers in a monotone, “What do you want?”

Ignoring the rudeness of his greeting, you continue to freak out. “I can’t do this! What am I going to do? What am I going to say? Can I please, please just go back to the H1GHR studio to work with Haon?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who made plans to meet with Jinyoung,” Rohan points out, using Ash’s real name.

After filming the first episode, you and Ash had decided it would be best for the two of you to get to know each other away from cameras, since you’d be working together for the next couple months. This is how you landed in your current situation, a bundle of nerves, standing outside the building of Ambition Musik.

“Well, I should not be held accountable for any choices I make in front of him. Obviously, I cannot be trusted!” you try telling your best friend.

Rohan sighs. “Why are you acting like this is your first time meeting him? You filmed the preview and the entire first episode together already. Plus, you’re there to talk about music, just treat him like any other artist you’ve worked with.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you take a moment to gain some composure. “I can do this. I can be normal. He’s just another person. There’s no need to freak out.” At this point, you’re not sure if you’re saying this to Rohan or yourself.

“There’s literally no reason you should be this nervous. So get in there, and please hang up. I’d like to eat my ramen before the noodles get all swollen.”

You laugh a little. “All right fine, I’ll see you later.” You get off the phone, feeling a bit better after talking to your best friend. With some of the tension in your shoulders relieved, you enter the building.

-----

“Hi.”

“Do you want some water?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Oh, okay.”

…

-----

Despite the abysmal start, your meetup with Ash was going surprisingly well. Once you were past the awkward small talk and got into your music, conversation flowed much more naturally.

“Whenever I hear this song I think ‘This is the type of music I want to make,’” you express, as your favorite song plays in Ash’s studio. “If I could write the perfect song, it would be something like this. The vocals, the music, the arrangement, everything about it is just so good.”

You let out a wistful sigh. “Too bad I could never come close to a masterpiece like this one.”

“Do you not like the music you’re making right now?” Ash asks, a bit puzzled. Funny, you’ve never really been asked or even asked yourself this question before, and you tell him that.

“It’s not like I hate all the songs I've produced. But I feel like they’ve always been made for someone else. I love working with Haon, I love producing for him. But ultimately, even with my name in the credits, it becomes his song. It’s all about his performance, his interpretation. Once it leaves the studio, it’s not mine, it’s not my music anymore. You know what I mean?” You’re not sure if all this is even making any sense. You’ve been rambling for so long, is he even listening at this point?

However, when you look up, he’s looking at you very intently. “Yeah, I get it. I felt that way on High School Rapper back then, and even now sometimes when I’m working on a song. I get caught up in thinking if people will like it, if my fans will like it, if it’ll chart well. But the whole point of your music is that it should be an expression of yourself. So when it’s not, it feels almost wrong.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, now’s our chance,” he begins. “It’s just you and me, with over 100 rappers to choose from. We can make whatever music we want.”

When you make eye contact, neither of you even realize you’re smiling at each other.

#i'm too used to writing social aus and it shows #let me know if the scene transitions are too choppy??#any thoughts/critiques are welcome #ash island #khh #khh imagines #khh scenarios #ash island imagines #ash island scenarios #ambition musik #khiphop #khiphop imagines #khiphop scenarios #hg

153 notes · View notes

mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

How Stella Got Her Groove Back

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: Just a little something to celebrate spring...and Stella’s birthday!

They left Connecticut in September, with a fair amount of reluctance to go, but they needed to return to the city. Becca had already gone and though both Karen and Fish insisted they were welcome to stay longer, stay forever if they had to, at a certain point, Hank and Stella had just been missing their loft and their life in New York too much. Of course, they knew that what they were returning to was not the life they were accustomed to, but they would have to learn to adapt to the new normal.

Winter was long and brutal. They did spend two weeks over Christmas and New Years back in Connecticut again and that was the first time they’d seen Becca since July, and the last time they would see her until spring. Karen had tried to coerce them all to stay again and Hank and Stella nearly gave in. If not for the fact that Stella left a project behind she’d been working on for her classes and if Hank had brought the pages he’d been working on for his new novel, they just might have done it.

When they got back to New York, and in a cabin fever-induced moment of weakness, they hired a landscape architect to design their rooftop terrace and though the noise of construction aggravated the hell out of both of them, they were both pleased with the results. They now had an artificial lawn of soft green turf, an outdoor patio daybed in the shape of a cube with canvas shades on all four sides, a wet bar, strategically placed heating lamps, and a wood burning fire pit. Unbeknownst to them, when Fish had heard their plans, he’d called the company they hired, ordered them a charcoal grill, and told the contractor to keep it a surprise. They were very surprised by the barbeque that was suddenly part of the design, but it looked nice, even if it wouldn’t get any use.

Finding ways to fill the time with nowhere to go and no one to see was extremely difficult. Neither of them were very much into television or movies. The terrace, as welcome as it was, wasn’t finished until the end of February. Stella had the classes she was teaching and the child psychology classes she was enrolled in to keep her fairly busy during the days, but Hank could only write for so many hours at a time and he found that he actually missed helping Fish with the guitar lessons. He grumbled to Stella that ‘that damn Trout’ bewitched him somehow and then begrudgingly called him up and asked if he could still help out remotely. Fish was delighted by the request and sent him an iPad and a teaching schedule.

The close quarters had caused a few squabbles, though nothing major. They took a few online cooking classes together which produced some mediocre meals and a testy exchange on the appropriate amount that constituted a ‘pinch of salt.’ Beyond that, they managed not to take out any frustrations on each other.

It was April 1st when Stella wandered from the bathroom to the bedroom in her t-shirt and sweatpants, rubbing lotion into her hands and arms. Hank was in bed, perhaps naked, or perhaps wearing jockey shorts, she couldn’t be sure. He had his guitar across his lap and his head back so that he gazed at the ceiling while he plucked lightly at the strings.

“Hank,” she said, leaning into the foot of the bed with slightly bended knees.

“Do you think ‘oral’ actually rhymes with ‘clorital’ or is it cheating?” he replied.

“You know that next week is my birthday.”

Hank splayed his hand out on the guitar and looked at her. “Is this a trick question?”

“Not at all.”

“So, if I say ‘yes, of course, your birthday is April 7th and I already know I’m not to mention it to anyone,’ is that the wrong answer because I’m not supposed to acknowledge it in the first place?”

“I am aware that in the past I have requested that my birthday be treated as any other day.”

“Mmhm.”

“I’ve been thinking that perhaps...I might like to celebrate this year after all.”

“Oh, I get it. April fools. You could’ve just put plastic wrap on the toilet or secretly replaced my regular coffee with Folgers.”

“I’m serious.”

“Ah, so the one year it’s impossible to throw a party, you want to have a party?”

“God, no. Parties are awful.”

“Well, what then?”

“Brunch? With Becca? This weekend, or the next, perhaps. There are more places opening up now. We could-”

“Absolutely, Sherlock. Whatever the suggestion, I am all in.” He pushed his guitar aside and she was mildly disappointed to discover that he was in his jockey shorts after all and not naked. He scooted forward to the end of the bed and wrapped his arms around her hips.

“A walk in the park, maybe?”

“Not sure if my legs remember what walking is at this point, so it’ll be good to remind them.” He moved his hands down to the backs of her thighs and gave them a squeeze and then cupped her ass. “Why the sudden change of heart, Sherlock?”

“I’ve just been thinking lately that it’s perfectly acceptable to want to celebrate being alive. After the year we’ve had.”

“I agree, but as long as I get to have my breakfast in bed in bed that day, I’ll be happy.”

“It’s my birthday, I’m not bringing you breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, honey, you are the breakfast,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her into him as he fell back onto the bed.

*****

The Saturday before her birthday was Easter weekend. There was no rain in the forecast and Becca was available, so it was perfect. They took a Lyft to the upper west side and met her at a French bistro that had outdoor seating. Stella could tell right away that something was bothering Becca, that she was putting on a false front of cheerfulness, which was very unlike her, but if she did know her stepdaughter, she knew the girl could not keep up pretenses for long.

They ordered and waited for their food over bottomless mimosas and miniature ham and cheese croissants served as an appetizer. It wasn’t cold, but a cool breeze would drift by every so often and Stella was glad she had left her hair down so that her ears were covered. She wished she’d been a bit more practical though and worn pants. She’d just felt like dressing up and at the last minute, put on an olive-colored dress with small printed white flowers on it, but at least it was long-sleeved and she had a white sweater. Becca and Hank were like twins in their matching leather jackets and dark jeans.

“Are you working on anything?” Becca asked Hank.

“Almost finished,” he answered.

“Oh. What’s it about?”

“A couple that’s been married for fifteen years, but they’re on the brink of the divorce when the pandemic hits and then they go from spending almost no time together to all of their time together and it’s disastrous at first, but then they end up learning a lot about each other.”

“So, they save their marriage?”

“No, they end up getting divorced anyway.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It’s fiction, sweetheart.”

“People like happy endings.”

“People are stupid. I didn’t say it didn’t have a happy ending though. Are you working on anything, Daughter?”

Becca sighed and picked at her nails. Stella put a hand on Hank’s knee under the table.

“Is something bothering you, Darling?” Stella asked.

“No. Yeah. No. I don’t wanna ruin your birthday or anything when it’s the first birthday we’ve ever celebrated together.”

Stella gave Becca a brief smile. “I don’t know if your father has told you why I’ve always been rather reluctant to celebrate my birthday.”

Becca shook her head. Hank stretched his arm out behind Stella’s chair and put his hand on her back. She gave his knee a squeeze of appreciation.

“My father passed away on my fourteenth birthday,” Stella said. “So, Darling, you have a high bar to overcome if you think being in a low mood will ruin my birthday.”

“That sucks about your dad, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Stella looked to Hank for a moment and then back to Becca. “I’ve spent many years trying to ignore the date as though if I didn’t acknowledge it, it’s like it had never happened. I don’t think I really understood until quite recently that one is capable of being sad and grateful at the same time. And that life should be celebrated. Especially now.”

“I guess I’m just...when we were up at Mom’s house, everything was so easy and nice and I had a really hard time writing. That’s why I wanted to leave. It was way too peaceful.”

“You know if I had a dollar for every time Becca claimed my shit was fucking her up, I’d be richer than that fucking Amazon guy, and now it sounds like she wants to file a grievance that we’re not fucking her up enough.”

“Am not.” Becca rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Stella said. “He’s been so mired with boredom lately he has regular calls with Fish.”

“No!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hank protested, putting his hands up in defense. “There was and will only be one bromance in my life and that’s with one Mr. Charles Runkle, that follically challenged motherfucker. No better pairing existed except for maybe Bert and Ernie, or Sid and Nancy.”

“I think we should let Becca continue with what she was trying to say.”

“Thank you.” Becca put her hand up as though she was blocking Hank from her view and he reached over and slapped her palm away. “As I was saying, I left because I thought the serenity was blocking me in some way, but since I’ve been back, it’s like the opposite. It felt so apocalyptic at first and desperate. It was like impossible to sit down and put words together when there were so many shitty things happening outside. What if...what if the next thing I finish, people will be like oh, she was just sitting inside writing while everyone else was dying?”

“There will always be shitty things happening outside,” Hank said.

“Great advice, Dad.”

“I don’t mean to bitchslap you with reality, but the world being shitty isn’t a reason to give up.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“Good, because you are way more fucking talented than I could ever even hope to be.”

“I just don’t know if it matters. If anyone should care.”

“Why should you concern yourself with that?”

Becca glared at Hank, clearly annoyed with the answer.

“I know you think I’m being facetious,” Hank said, quickly. “But, I’m not. If all anyone wanted to read was about things that ‘mattered’ that 50 Shades of Hot Garbage would never have sold a single copy. You don’t know why people read what you write. Maybe they want to escape the shitty things happening in the world. Maybe they want to laugh or cry or be turned on. Maybe they just need something to pass the time.”

“Five minutes ago you just said people were stupid for wanting happy endings, now you’re saying I should just give them garbage, if that’s what they want.”

“Yeah, I’m a fucking hypocrite, what else is new, but I just want you to be happy with what you’re doing. You want me to buy you a new laptop?”

“I’m not twelve anymore. You can’t just buy my happiness.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Becca,” Stella finally interjected. “I think it’s obvious by now that your father may possibly be the world’s worst motivational speaker.”

“Or the world’s best unmotivational speaker,” Hank said. “You see what I did there? I turned a negative into a positive.”

Both Stella and Becca ignored the comment.

“I think I may understand what he’s trying to say though,” Stella said. “I’m not a creator, but I’ve been a consumer. When I was reading for pleasure, I certainly wasn’t reaching for mystery novels. And I think that...popularity and quality are two different things. Certainly, one would hope for both, but it isn’t always the case. I know you and I know that quality is important to you, so perhaps you should only focus on if what you’re working on is the best that it can be and not on whether or not it matters.”

“Can I add something to that?” Hank asked.

“Not if you plan on fucking up everything Stella just said,” Becca answered.

“I’ve done at least a dozen online events this year and at every single one, someone has asked me when the next Rebecca Moody novel is going to be released or they want to know what you’re working on. I’m not even entirely sure all of them are there to hear my Q&A or if they just showed up because they know I’m your dad and they think you might make a guest appearance. And if one person takes umbrage with you for creating something during a time of utter hell, fuck them.”

“Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable,” Stella quoted.

“That sounds so much hotter when you say it than George Bernard Shaw,” Hank replied, rubbing his hand across Stella’s upper back.

“Okay, I don’t want to spend this day being miserable,” Becca said, shaking her head and shoulders like she was trying to rid herself of negativity. “Thank you, Stella.”

“You’re welcome, darling girl.”

“Hey, what about me?” Hank asked.

“There is this jacket I saw online that I want,” Becca answered, cheekily raising one of her eyebrows and tilting her head.

“I’ll text you my credit card number later.”

“Thank you, Father.”

*****

Brunch was followed by a stroll in Central Park and it seemed that at least half of the city had the same idea. It was interesting being in a place so crowded and yet also so open. The decent weather and the cherry blossoms in full bloom probably had something to do with it. What also would have felt strange a year ago, seeing everyone wearing face masks and wearing them as well, was oddly comforting. When Stella had put hers on that morning before they walked out the door, Hank told her she looked like a sexy brain surgeon or cardiologist, whichever one was smarter or made more money.

When they came upon Bethesda Fountain, there was a small band playing salsa music and a few couples dancing. Hank tried to imitate the steps and then grabbed Becca’s hand and spun her around under his arm. She laughed and tried to break free of him, but he pulled her back in and tried to get her to dance.

“Da-ad,” Becca protested.

“Dance with me, Daughter.”

“I don’t dance.”

“You’re no fun.” Hank let go of Becca’s hand and then grabbed Stella’s.

“Oh, no,” she said.

“Come on, Sherlock. I know you’ve probably got some moves I’ve never seen.”

“I assure you that’s not true,” she answered, letting him spin her away though and then laughed as he gyrated his hips dramatically as he stepped back towards her. “Whatever it is that you’re doing does not resemble the salsa in any way.”

“Let me see you do better.”

Stella looked past Hank to the other dancers and mimicked the forward and back steps. She put a hand on Hank’s chest to keep him at arm’s length and prevent their knees from colliding as he tried to fall into the same step with her, moving forward when she stepped back, and back when she stepped forward. What he lacked in grace, he made up for with enthusiasm. As soon as they fell into sync, he grabbed her hand and lifted her other arm in a more formal dance frame like the other dancers had.

What followed was probably the worst and most amateurish version of a salsa that had ever been danced, but Stella laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes. When the music ended, Hank stopped and pulled Stella’s face mask down under her chin before lowering his own and then kissing her through both of their laughter.

The dancing couples broke apart and drifted back into the crowd. Becca went over and dropped some money into the cup on the ground in front of the band and thanked them for playing. Stella took Hank’s hand and then Becca linked her arm with Stella’s as they continued on.

Later that night, when Stella came out of the bathroom as she rubbed lotion into her hands and arms, she stopped at the foot of the bed and watched Hank read over the latest pages of his novel. When she was finished, she climbed onto the bed and walked over to Hank on her knees until she was straddling his lap. He threw his pages down, took his reading glasses off, and pulled her close with his hands on her ass.

“Thank you,” Stella said, as Hank kissed the side of her neck.

“For what?”

“This truly was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Your birthday’s not until Wednesday.”

“Perhaps next year we’ll even be able to invite Karen and Fish to town.”

“We’ll make The Trout christen that barbeque he forced on us.”

“It does look nice though.”

“It really does. You want your present now, or should I wait until Wednesday?”

“I might be interested in a preview,” she said, sliding her hand down his chest and then into his shorts. “A little peak at the package ahead of time.”

“You just assumed I was talking about fucking when I said I had something for you?”

“Weren’t you?”

Hank paused and then grinned. “Yeah, I was.”

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #hank/stella #californication #thefall #The adventures of the lady detective and the writer lives on

55 notes · View notes

greatbigbellies · 3 years

Text

New commission story. This is an anonymous slice of life piece about a woman hyperpregnant with overdue decuplets. This one’s a little different from my usual stuff cause it focuses so heavily on a unique form of belly. Contains hyperpregnancy, light belly worship, extreme fetal movement, and an incredibly tight, almost shrink-wrapped style of pregnant belly. Enjoy!

Molina waved goodbye as her midwife left, the kind woman getting in her car, off to another housecall most likely. The midwife had given the heavily expectant woman a clean bill of health, despite her... unique medical challenges. Molina was indeed a special case in more ways than one, just looking at her with no medical experience at all was the proof one needed for that.

For starters, she was gigantic, her belly stretching well past her knees when she sat down. She measured in the neighborhood of eighty inches in circumference. This was due to her extraordinary pregnancy, as she carried decuplets, and was presently 2 years past her due date. However, her belly wasn’t perfectly round like one would expect, instead looking uneven, lopsided, and in some areas, almost shrinkwrapped to her unborn babies. This was due in part to her being 33 months pregnant, and also partly because her body wouldn’t produce enough amniotic fluid. As a result, her normally plump, rounded pregnant belly was instead tight, lumpy, and left every movement on display.

And movement there was, as ten strong, overgrown fetuses would shift, kick, punch, and lurch constantly, vying for room where there was none. At times, her whole belly would writhe with fetal movement, as it did during her midwife appointment. Her belly wobbled and squirmed while the poor midwife tried to take an ultrasound with her portable doppler. The resulting images were… blurry to say the least, but she somehow got what she needed. Even now as she closed the front door and waddled inside, Molina’s brood squirmed restlessly inside her.

“Ooomph, calm down in there, I’m going!” she chided them, which only seemed to rile them up more. She slowly waddled to the kitchen to grab a snack, something she did a lot. Due to her size, she didn’t have a lot of room in her squashed stomach to eat, but she needed the calories, so she would constantly snack throughout the day. She awkwardly grabbed some leftover pizza from the fridge, having to turn to the side to reach it past her mountainous belly. She didn’t even bother to heat it up, as the wait would require more standing. She slowly made her way to the couch, and flopped down into it, causing her belly’s contents to kick and squirm about. “Oof, guys I’m eating right now,it’s fine. There's no more ultrasound wand rubbing against my tummy, you can chill,”

Molina rotated and propped her feet up on one armrest, and laid back to prop her head on the other. The weight of her tummy resting on her lower back, hips, and thighs. One hand delivered the pizza to her waiting mouth, and the other rubbed her uneven belly, party to calm her babies, partly to remove a little leftover ultrasound gel. She felt her overstretched skin shift under her hand as baby H and G pushed on each other for space. “Be nice you two, there’s room enough for both,”

She took another bite of pizza and felt someones foot kick directly into her palm. She pushed it back in and felt something roll deep inside her womb. She looked down and saw what was probably the top of someone’s head pushed up into the top shelf of her belly. She could never take those cute pictures most pregnant women took, using their bellies as a table. Her tummy was just too uneven and lively for that. She lovingly patted the top of the head, and just as quickly as it had sprouted up, it sank back down.

Molina sighed and finished her pizza, leaving both hands free to caress the belly. Her brood calmed slightly with the introduction of food, and the calming touch of her hands seemed to soothe them more. She reached as far as she could to try to get to the front of her tummy, but alas, baby B, the front most occupant, was out of her reach. She could feel her itchy popped navel getting pushed even further out by various kicks and shifts, but could do nothing for it. She placed her hands on the sides of her belly and squeezed it lovingly before rotating back to a sitting position. She placed her feet on the carpet and leaned forward to put her weight on them, then stood up into a standing position. Her shirt rode up, and she felt her already unbuttoned shorts unzip a little.

Her clothes, as large and maternal as they were, stood no chance against such a belly. There was a time, over two years ago, where she could cover her tummy completely, and even lean forward, but those times disappeared along with the view of her feet. She reached around to her waist and tried to zip her shorts back up, but alas, she was simply too big. Pregnancy had caused her body to change in more areas than just her belly. Her butt had plumped up significantly, almost giving her a back shelf, and her thighs had rounded out to a degree that could only be described as “thicc”.

She heard a knock at the door and waddled over, her massive belly wobbling left and right with each step. The front of her tummy nudged the door as she opened it, greeting a shocked deliveryman. “Uh… p-package for… Molina…” she poor man just stared at Molina’s massive, squirming pregnant belly. Her cargo took that moment to lurch, causing the many arms, hand, legs, and feet to be even more visible under the overstretched flesh. Molina smiled at him, somewhat used to this reaction. “Do I need to sign?” she asked. “Y-yeah… h-here…” he reached out with a small clipboard and pen. Molina took it, reaching just past her tummy to take it from him.

“You look concerned?” she teased him, signing the slip. “It’s just… you’re REALLY pregnant,” he stammered. “Does it… hurt?” he asked. “Not quite. Its far from comfortable, but’s not painful. It helps to have someone rub it though, would you?” she asked, taking a step forward. The mailman hesitated, but slowly reached out. His fingers brushed against the skin of her overly taught tummy before jolting back, and she giggled. “You won’t hurt me, just touch it!” As he reached forward again, one of her brood did a somersault in her womb and shifted her skin out, causing the belly to come to him. He blushed intensely and she just chuckled, causing more of her babies to move inside her. Her whole belly was alive with action now, as limbs and heads and even faces became visible under her skin. The mailman took his hand back and just stared.

“The package please?” she asked. The man shook his head and handed her a small parcel, before turning to leave. She smiled, having had her fun, and went back inside. Her belly actually let out an audible grown as she made her way back to the couch, tired from the effort of standing with so much weight on her aching back and feet. She flopped back down, causing a bit of sloshing from her womb, and somehow even more movement. She opened the package to see the specially designed stretchmark cream she’d ordered online. This stuff was a lifesaver, even after almost three years of pregnancy, not a single mark could be seen on her aching, writhing belly.

She hummed a song to herself and her babies as she opened the tube of lotion, squeezing a heaping glob into her hand. She capped it shut and rubbed her hands together before working the lotion into her tight belly skin. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and just reveled in exploring her own gravid belly. Feeling every nook and cranny between the various limbs of her babies. Her belly shifted again as movement stirred within her, strong kicks pushing into her her hands as she rubbed the lotion into her constantly shifting skin. She felt baby D’s backside against the side of her bump, rubbing it gently before moving on so what was probably a leg sticking out. There were times when it was legitimately hard to tell what was where, but she made the best of it.

In truth she just loved being pregnant, feeling the life grow in her body, feeling herself swell up with love. Its why she carried so far past term, to keep her babies close to her, and safe within her womb. She continued exploring her shrink-wrapped tummy, playing with her babies from outside. She’d push back on the little hands and feet sticking out, pat the heads that bulged out, and just generally interact with her unborn young. She jostled her tummy a little trying to reach the front to apply the lotion, and she felt several movements deep inside her pregnant gut. She worried that she’d start getting marks on the portions of her belly where she couldn’t reach, and wondered if she could talk the midwife into applying it for her at her next appointment.

She considered inviting a friend over to do it… but almost everyone in her friend group was pregnant themselves, and quite busy because of it. Except one who she admittedly hadn’t seen since she was only 3 months along… which was nearly three years ago… but it was worth a shot, Molina thought, to reconnect. And maybe get some belly rubs out of it. She pulled her phone out of her tight pocked and scrolled through her contacts until she found her… and old friend of hers, Orphea.

Orphea, somewhat nervously, walked up to the address she’d been sent, anxious to see her friend Molina again. It had been years since they had seen each other, and last time they were together Molina was 3 months pregnant with decuplets… Orphea could only imagine how chaotic it would be inside with ten toddlers running around. Still, her old friend had said she needed help with something personal, and Orphea was nothing if not loyal. Her 4 inch heels clacked against the concrete as she approached the door.

She knocked on the door and noticed the silence, the distinct lack of rampaging children… was it nap time? “Door’s unlocked, please come in!” rang the familiar sound of Molina’s voice. Orphea slowly opened the door and started to step through, looking around for her friend. “Molina hun, are you okay? You were kinda vagu-” Orphea froze when she saw the massively overdue Molina, sprawled across the couch. She simply stared at Molina’s active, wriggling belly, taking in every limb, face, and body on display under the tightly pulled skin. “Oh my God Molina! What… happened?” she stammered, slowly stepping in and shutting the door behind her.

“I… nothing happened, I’m fine, I’m just very pregnant!” said Molina, placing her hands on her belly, as if she needed emphasis on th fact. “But… you look absolutely vacuum packed, I can see every movement in there!? Are you sure you’re okay? Is this healthy?” Orphea nearly shouted, a little freaked out at the sight of such fecundity. “I promise you, I have weekly doctors and midwife visits, everyone in here in safe and healthy,” Molinda assured her friend. Orphea shook her head in awe, unsure of what to do. “I”m sorry it’s just… you’re a sight!” she said. Molina beamed at the compliment, “Thank you! I owe it all to these little guys!” she rubber her beyond-drum-tight tummy lovingly.

“Which brings me to why I invited you here,” she stated. “I’ve gotten so big I can’t reach my whole belly, and I need someone to apply lotion to my tummy so I don’t get stretchmarks,” she explained. Orphea blinked. “You mean you want me to touch… that?” she pointed at Molinas mountain of a belly. “What? It’s just a pregnant belly!” replied Molina. Orphea blinked incredulously. “Have you never touched a pregnant woman’s belly?” Orphea blinked more. “Well… I have… just not one so… overdue. How many months past due are you?” “twenty four,” stated Molina matter of factly.

Orphea sighed. It was just a pregnant belly. Just a very large, very lumpy one. And Molina had taken care of her in the past. “Alright, sure, why not? Where’s your lotion?” she finally asked. “Heads up!” Molina tossed the tube to her friend, who caught it effortlessly. Molina shifted around on her butt, before laying down to expose as much of her pregnant belly as possible. “So like…” she gestured with her arms, painting swaths over her orb of a tummy to show where she could reach, “These areas are fine, I can reach this stuff,” She pointed toward the front hemisphere and her underbelly, “but these areas I can’t get on my own anymore. If you’ll lotion those up I’ll order takeout and feed you for your troubles,”

Orphea knelt next to her friend’s writhing tummy. “You don’t have to…” she paused as a foot stuck directly out of the womb, stretching the belly skin toward Orphea’s head. “...You like panda express?” she changed her tune. “Love panda express,” smiled Molina, whipping out her phone to place the order through an app. Orphea reached up and squeezed a heaping glob of cold lotion into the front of Molina’s titanic tummy, eliciting a shiver from her friend. “Oooh, that skin is so sensitive,” “S-sorry,” apologized Orphea. She slowly reached over, still freaked out at the tightness of the skin, and the amount of movement she could see.

She took a breath, steeled herself, and laid her hand on it. And… it was… fine? Uneven, sure, and warm to the touch, but it was just skin. She felt a tiny fist push up into her hand, but it didn’t really bother her. She’d felt a fetus move in a pregnant tummy before, this was the same, just stronger. She settled into small, circular movements as she worked the cream into Molina’s gravid gut, and smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Molina sighed and visibly relaxed at her touch, settling into the couch more. Orphea’s fingers brushed over Molina’s very popped belly button, and she cooed in response, something Orphea thought was very cute.

“Mmmm, thank you again for coming over. This is really nice,” said Molina as she relaxed. Orphea added more lotion and continued massaging the glowing belly, working the smooth substance into every nook and cranny. “Yeah, anything for a friend!” she replied. Molina felt baby B do a somersault in response to all the touch, and the top of their head pushed into Orphea’s palm. “Is that… a head?” Molina nodded and smiled, brushing her black bangs out of her face as she looked over her phone.

“What do you like from Panda?” she asked. “Orange chicken please! And I can cover my own food, you don’t actually have to feed me,” Orphea offered. Molina shook her head, “Honestly it’s the least I could do since you came over on virtually no notice. We haven’t seen each other in over two years and you dropped everything just to rub my belly for me! I’m more than happy to feed you!”

Orphea squirted even more lotion into her hands, rubbing them together, before starting work on Molina’s expansive underbelly. This portion of her tummy actually somehow felt more tightly packed than the front, Orphea assumed it was due to the constant force of gravity pulling the babies in this direction. There was less movement down here, and more indentations and bulges from the packed decuplets. Orphea couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be THIS pregnant, and actually have this as part of her body. Molina let out a groan, causing Orphea to peek around the massive midriff to check on her friend. “If everything okay? Did I push too hard?”

Molina’s plump lips curled into a satisfied smile, “Mmmm, nooooo, it just feels so good to have someone rub down there. I haven’t been able to reach that part of myself in over a year and the skin is so stretched, your hands feel lovely,” she explained. “Please don’t stop,” Orphea nodded and went back to work, making sure to run her finger through every divot, crevasse, and valley caused by Molina’s squirming young. She also made sure to run her hands over every lump, bump, and bulge on the expanse of pregnant flesh.

The contact seemed the rile up the lower sitting babies, as they began to stir under Orphea’s hands. The movement and contact on both sides of her skin only revved up Molina more, and she moaned and cooed at the attention she was receiving. Orphea got an impulsive idea, and sank her fingers into the bottom of Molina’s belly. Molina gasped at the sudden intrusion, and would have jolted upright if she physically could, but her belly weight kept her from doing so.

“Oh God I’m so sorry I don’t know why I did that!” apologized Orphea as she pulled her hands back. There was an awkward pause between the two before Molina squeaked out, “Do it again,” another pause. “What?!” “Please do that again, push your fingers into the nooks and crannies, it felt really good. Really stimulating,” she blushed. Orphea did as she was told, lining up the tips of her fingers with the few soft spots on Molina’s underbelly. She, more slowly this time, pushed her fingers in, causing, somehow, even more movement inside. “Oooohh… god... “ Molina sighed. Orphea blushed a little, and went back to rubbing, taking time to poke her fingers into various indents as she found them. Molina seemed to really enjoy it, and it gave Orphea another impulsive idea.

Without putting much thought into it, she cleaned the lotion off of a small spot, leaned in, and pecked the spot of belly skin with her lips.

While the belly itself was still very much in motion, the rest of Molina seemed to freeze up at the sudden affection. Yet another long, heavy pause held the pair in social paralysis. Finally, Orphea broke the ice with a subdued, “Sorry,” She couldn’t see Molina’s face past her tummy, but could still feel her stare. “Did you just… kiss me? Down there?” “I’m sorry I’m sorry. It was dumb, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did,” Orphea started to ramble, a rising blush painting her face pink. “Orphea, honey, it’s okay,” “No, no it really wasn’t,” “Orphea. I liked it,” One. Last. Pause.

“You… liked it? When I kissed your tummy?” she gently placed a hand back on the underbelly, feeling more strong, almost violent movements underneath. “Yeah… it… I don’t get a lot of attention like this, Orphea, I spend a lot of time cooped up,” she admitted. “I love this, being massively pregnant, I love each and every one of my babies. But for having 11 people in this house… I’m lonely,” Orphea scooted around to make herself visible to her friend, noticing her blush and averted gaze. “So… that was the first kiss you’ve had in a while, wasn’t it?” inquired Orphea. Molina nodded solemnly, trying not to let her loneliness, magnified by extreme pregnancy hormones, make her too emotional.

Orphea leaned over and kissed the side of her belly, causing Molina to blush intensely again. She then placed both hands firmly on the uneven sides of Molina’s massive gut and began drumming her fingers. “So you love being this pregnant, huh?” asked Orphea. Molina smiled meekly, again brushing her hair out of her face, and nodded. Orphea reached around, and tried to hold as much belly as she could in her arms, before planting a long, loving kiss on Molina’s gut. She felt the constant stirring movement of Molina’s ten kids inside her, and maximized her skin contact with it. She pushed her face into the belly, and baby F pushed back with their arms.

Molina moaned and squirmed herself on the couch, her thick thighs rubbing together as she didn’t know what to do with herself. Orphea pulled her face back, “You’re a real baby factory, Molina. If you love this, I think I can learn to love it too. Maybe we should catch up, and get to know each other a bit more,” Molina nodded, biting her lip. She hadn’t had this kind of physical contact in too long, and it felt amazing.

Orphea stood up on her high heels, bringing her to a height of 5’7”, and leaned forward, planting a strong, loving kiss on Molina’s navel. She cooed and squirmed from new overstimulation, the skin on her belly so very sensitive. Orphea took a moment to empty the rest of the lotion tube onto the bottom of Molina’s belly, reaching down with her hand to rub it in, while continuing to plant kiss after kiss onto the front area of Molina’s squirming belly.

“Wait!” cried Molina. “What? Too much! Did I overstay my welcome?” asked Orphea. “No… this feels amazing… but first…” she tapped her phone screen twice. “Okay, we have an hour to fool around before dinner gets here,” she said a little breathlessly. She leaned back into the couch, closed her eyes, and beamed, “Now… where were we?”

#writing #anonymous #commissions #not bellies

40 notes · View notes

moonlight-chi77 · 3 years

Note

This might sound kinda angsty so I hope you will do it only if you're comfortable! (ofc it doesn't have to be an angst, I'd love a plot twist! LOL) When you guys are dating but he insists on keeping it as a secret from the members and acts all flirty with other girls even when you're around... Reaction would be fine but... Is it too specific? Stupid? Annoying? Please feel free to ignore and have a nice day!

Because you didn't include it I chose a group and member that fitted the story! It's Bangchan from Stray Kids. If you don't like that or how I wrote it, please tell me and I'll change it💕

For the fans he was always honest, loving and just everything you could wish for. And he was, but somehow there's always something bad about a relationship. For you it was that you must be kept a secret, he even goes as far as flirting with other girls. You tried your best to understand him, believing that there's a reason behind all of this but you never seemed to find one, at least none that made sense. You couldn't even talk about it with someone because of course you loved him and if he wanted it to be a secret then it'll be like this.

It destroyed you to know that maybe you just weren't good enough for him to say the truth. But you managed to push this away. Everytime you were alone with him, he was the sweetest boyfriend and everything you could wish for, honestly you could understand how his fans loved him without knowing him. He's just an angel.

Still he hurt you whenever a member came and today should be no exception.

You heard a small knock on the door of his studio and walked over to the couch "Hey" Jisung said looking over to you and you smiled "Here's the lyrics" he said "Go with him." Chan said then and you agreed while picking up your bag.

The door closed behind you and Jisung turned around "Why is he always so passive aggressive with you? Did you do anything?" he asked "Huh? Oh, no it's nothing." you weren't good with lying so it was hard to answer something realistic. "Okay, will you come with me?" you nod happily and walked with him as he grabbed your hand and began to run through the hallways instead of walking.

You then entered his studio grasping for air but started laughing as soon as you had some.

"Did he ever show you how to produce? I bet not. It's a lot of fun, wanna help me?" you nod energetic "He's always stressed, so there's no time where he could show me how." you wanted to explain that he didn't actually meant any harm to you. "Don't you think that he would have taken some time for you, if he would want to? I mean I'm his friend and I do somehow understand but I understand if you're annoyed too." his words hurt you "Let it be, okay?" he nod and got your chair closer to his to show you everything.

You didn't excepted it to cost that much of time but eventually it did so when you looked to the clock again it wasn't afternoon but nearly night. No matter how far you already got with this new song, Chan would be mad.

As soon as this thought was in your mind a hard knock was heard "Yess" Jisung replied and an angry but sleepy Chan opened the door "What are you doing here?" he asked you "I searched for you, don't you always have your phone with you?" he didn't mean to become loud but he was extremely worried because of you. "I'm sorry we forgot the time while producing this song, it won't happen again." you responded looking down, which is when Chan noticed Jisung's hoodie on your body "Let's go. See you at home Jisung-ie" he said seeming to calm down but then he clenched his fist.

"Why are you wearing his hoodie?" he asked as soon as you were out of the studio "I was cold. Chan, listen, I'm sorry about that but it's no wonder I like you, I really do but you keep treating me like shit in front of everyone. They all don't understand and feel sorry. Don't you see?" you meant it deadass serious. Eventhough you loved him more than anything else, you couldn't take it anymore. You weren't one for confrontation but you had a breaking point which you were near after months of his ignorance.

He sighed "We're still not allowed to date and I really do not want any of these dorks to destroy what we have. I promise you once the dating ban is lifted, which is soon I'll stop treating you like that." you nod, always believing in the best. "Take his hoodie off now will you, please." you do as you're told while Chan hands you over one of his, it's pitch black and looks a little more worn than the navy blue one from Jisung. "It smells like you" you whisper happily "You should go home now. It's late already." once again you do as you're told.

You: I'll bring you your hoodie tmr, k?

Jisung: Sure

Jisung: Can we repeat yesterday then? I had a lot of fun...

In the same moment he talked about you with the members "She's fun to be around when you're alone. After some time when she gets comfortable, it's so nice." they all laugh about his dreamy talk. All except one, that being Chan. He really loved you alot but he wasn't sure why you did love him, he still has some way to go to love himself. But was that really the problem? Or was it that he couldn't handle a relationship right now? Was it for all the comebacks they give themselves, that there were no breaks and no escape. Everywhere they went it all was about Stray Kids. But that never seemed to be a problem, it was his dream all along. It just couldn't be the problem. The dating ban could though.

"Please don't leave me" he sang the background vocals into the microphone for the demo version of his new song, it was written in a short time span. It just broiled in him so much that it felt like telling his worries and giving someone the weight of them. "Hey Chan" you said entering his studio "You're here again?" he asks "I'm not here to annoy you. I just wanted to say hello because I'm meeting with Jisung." you said, placing some food on his table "Make sure to eat something, you keep forgetting it." you scold "Please don't go. I don't want you with him." you smile at him. "He's your member and I'm your girlfriend." you tried to reassure him and put your hand on his shoulder as he still sat on his chair. "I know but...He's been talking about you a lot lately-" before he could continue you kissed him lightly "I'll tell him I have a boyfriend today. I won't say who it is, that's your job. Stop being jealous when you're so much worse." you were sick of him sometimes but you loved him, he really was perfect in your eyes.

Later in the dorm you heard another girls voice as you sat in the kitchen, sharing some Japchae with Jisung. "Hi Hyung!" Jisung screamed happily as he noticed Chan "Hey, that's Jihyun, she's a friend of mine." you both greeted her. She was the perfect height for Chan, her body was lean but still curvy, her hair was not even a little bit damaged but fell perfectly over her shoulders. Her face was even more beautiful then the rest of her. You gulped at her gorgeous sculpture, knowing exactly that you lacked in beauty, at least that's what you thought. Chan loved the way you looked and even the other members complimented it, you still were believed that they were being friendly.

However seeing girls like her always made you feel even worse "Do you have a crush on him?" Jisung asked because of your longing gaze "Huh?" you were confused. "I guess it's normal to have insecurities but it looked like you were concerned about what she could do with her looks instead." you gulped, he was completely right "I just think she's way prettier than me, that's it." he laughed "I don't think you realize just how much of a godess(and yess he's right you lovely human being) you are." his words caused you to blush and look down. He on the other side had a wide grin on his face after this reaction from you, eventhough you already told him you were dating someone.

After hours of deep talks you decided to go get some food from a Convenient store nearby. "Does someone want something from GS25?" he asked in their group chat and got answers right away.

"I wonder why we never spent time before." you said "Eventhough Chan is weird around you, he doesn't like us being around you much." Jisung said "Oh, I didn't knew that" you whispered shocked.

"Was this girl at your dorm before?" you asked him "No, I didn't knew her either." he answered smiling confused "Why are you so interested in her?" you laugh "Oh that, that's a long story." he nod "I have time.". "Jisung, it's just that I'm not confident in myself and the rest is a secret, okay?" you smiled "It's okay that you don't want to tell me everything. We don't know us for a long time, or rather spent a lot of time together." it was weird how much he understood what you thought. "It has to do with my boyfriend. I trust you a lot but I just can't tell that anyone." his smile was stunning, eventhough he seemed somehow hurt.

As you came back to the dorms it was a weird atmosphere around, only noticing why that was so as you entered the kitchen. "Why are you all sitting here?" Jisung asked a little scared "This doesn't mean any good, does it?" Chan laughed and told you to sit down. "It actually isn't bad news at all. It's pretty amazing news." he giggled "Come to the point, we don't have time to listen to your giggles." Minho said causing the member and you laugh. "Okay, I just want to say I didn't told anyone here because I was afraid you were going to leak it but I can't hold back no more. Y/n and I are together." he said making you gasp "You could've warned me!" you whined "Wait-Since when?" Felix asked "Since nine months" Chan answered, still remembering every little detail of this day. "I won guys! I told you they were dating!" Felix screamed laughing "What did you won?" you were confused "The bet. We had a bet, they said he really didn't like you but I knew better!" Chan raised his eyebrows "You guys are making bets over us? And I thought we were a family?!" he said dramatically resulting in making everyone laugh really hard.

"Let's go" he said to you, pulling you to his room "I thought you were too afraid to tell them?" he smiled "You are more important than that, I'm sorry it took me so long to realise.". You didn't even care about the girl nor the last months anymore as you dreamed too long of this moment to not enjoy it completely now.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids chan #stray kids jisung #stray kids reactions #stray kids requests #kpop reactions

84 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Teen Tracys

Muse is on a roll today, it seems (and I even managed to get some uni work done!). From a conversation with @janetm74 that started over a discussion about punk!teen Virgil with a green mohawk and Eco-Warrior!teen Gordon and snowballed into, well, something a bit like this.

Random, has not been particularly polished, and I threw in a time skip rather than deal with the serious conversation. Might write that later.

For ages, we’ve got Scott at 21, John’s 19, Virgil’s 17, Gordon’s 13 and Alan’s 9. Three teenagers in the house; uh oh.

Scott loved his brothers. Really, he did. But sometimes, they were just too much. Big brother just didn’t hold the same weight as parent, no matter that he’d helped to raise all of them, and every so often his little brothers remembered that.

“Gordon, no.”

The thirteen-year-old, decked out in nothing but recycled greens, glared up at him with all the self-proclaimed righteousness a teenager could summon. It was a lot.

“Do you know how much pollution is still being pumped into the oceans?” he demanded, not at all cowed by the fact he barely reached Scott’s chest. “They finally stopped all the fossil fuel in the 2020s, and plastic was entirely phased out by 2030, and then the world gave itself a nice pat on the back as though that fixed everything!”

Scott had heard this tirade before. Many, many, times before.

“Yes, Gordon, I know. Preservation of the oceans is important and that’s why this family – and Tracy Industries – does its bit to make sure nothing goes in there that shouldn’t, and is why you take part in charity events to continue to spread awareness. I know.” He didn’t have a problem with any of that, either. No, what he had a problem with were the rallies.

Charity work? Fine. ��More than fine.

The rallies? Not for an unaccompanied thirteen-year-old boy, and Scott knew they often involved illegally sabotaging places that still produced pollution. No matter how well-meaning Gordon was, it was Scott’s duty as big brother and guardian not to let him get tangled up in that.

“Clearly you don’t know if you think that’s enough!” Gordon retorted, and Scott sighed.

“Gordon, I know more needs to be done, but it needs to be done legally, and not result in you getting thrown in a lockup, okay? You’ve got that charity dinner with Lady Penelope next weekend, remember?”

“I can do both!” Gordon protested. “Scott, I have to go! It’s important for the planet!”

“Well it’s important to me that you don’t end up-”

Bright green in his periphery killed the rest of the sentence as he turned his head to see his normally sensible, reliable brother looking anything but.

“Virgil, you are not going out looking like that.”

“I can go out looking however I want, Scott.” Seventeen years old and the teenage attitude Gordon was showing seemed to have infected his next oldest brother at last. Virgil had been such a quiet, low-effort teenager – even more so than John, whose rebellion had been entirely digital and Scott was quite frankly afraid of what he might have done – until now.

Now, the punk phase had hit, and apparently the colour of the day was green. Vibrant, radioactive touch-me-and-die green. In a mohawk.

Scott tried to be the supportive big brother, he really did, but there were lines and the all-leather ensemble complete with mohawk and numerous piercings were pushing it. Worst of all was the noise-maker he called a trike that he’d gone and bought last week despite being explicitly told not to. That had crossed the line. There had been much shouting. Virgil refused to return it, and spent more time in the garage tinkering with it than with his family now.

Gordon considered it an affront, and Scott wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t going to be a target for the so-called rally if Gordon managed to join it.

“Virgil, please.”

“I want green hair!”

They’d caught Alan’s attention. Great.

“No, Alan. You are not dyeing your hair green.”

Realising both green-themed brothers – if for two very different reasons – were both trying to slip out while Alan played distraction, Scott backed up to the front door and blocked it with his body.

“Virgil did!”

“And if his hair dye ends up in your hair, his entire new ensemble is heading straight for the recycler,” Scott growled. Three little brothers, all at once. It was enough to give him a headache. Gordon shifted, a shift that meant trouble, and he remembered the current household feud. “Gordon, if Virgil’s hair dye ends up in Alan’s hair, no more charity events until you’re eighteen.”

“But Scott!”

He didn’t even care which of the three said it. It could have been all of them. Why couldn’t they go through teenage rebellion from the sanctity of their bedrooms, like John did?

“I wouldn’t say green’s your colour anyway, Allie.” As though summoned by Scott’s thoughts, the fourth little brother materialised. Finally, some sanity- “how about we try black, or a dark blue, to match space? Maybe Virgil can help make it a galaxy?”

“John!”

Betrayal. Betrayal of the highest order, but Scott refused to get dramatic about it because he had three drama queens in the house already and that would only encourage them. Even if the smirk John sent his way made him want to throw something. Or scream.

Or both.

With four brothers ganging up on him – two because they’d hit the rebellion phase, one because his brothers were, and one just because he could – Scott knew he wasn’t going to win this with his sanity intact.

“Alan, no, you are not dyeing your hair any colour. Gordon, you are not going to that rally. Virgil, you are not going out like that. John, if you’re not going to be helpful, scat.”

“But Scott!”

That was all four of them. In chorus. If half of them weren’t feuding he’d think the whole thing was choreographed. Looking at John, he still wasn’t convinced the ginger genius hadn’t managed to orchestrate it. He was still smirking.

Scott needed to pull out the big guns.

“If you four won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to Grandma.”

The woman was in the garden, taking a well-deserved nap away from five grandsons. Scott didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew when he was beaten. Two brothers, he could handle. Three, tough but doable. Four, when one was deliberately stirring the pot? Even Scott had limits.

Any hopes he might have had that the mere threat would be enough died when three defiant – and one amused, damn you, John – faces stared at him.

He pulled out his phone, gave them one more moment to change their minds of their own accord, before making the call.

“Scott?”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Grandma, but can you come back inside?”

“On my way. What have the trouble-makers done this time?”

Scott gave her a brief rundown, interspersed with varying levels of protest from each brother as it reached their turn. By the time he was done, the woman was inside the house, regarding all five of them.

Three faces were starting to quail. Alan in particular looked on the verge of tears, but no teenage rebellion was stopping Virgil being a Grandma’s boy and even Gordon had a healthy respect for her tongue. John continued to look far too smug, and Scott’s internal alarm bells were ringing.

Still, Grandma was here now. Grandma would sort his brothers out and Scott could get a blissful half hour – maybe even an hour, if he was lucky – without some sort of sibling drama.

“Well, I’m not seeing any problems here.”

What.

Grandma walked straight up to Virgil and started plucking at his jacket, deftly dodging the metallic spikes as she adjusted it on his shoulders. “When I was your age, it was all pink. Pink leather, pink hotpants.” She winked in Scott’s direction and the urge to scream bubbled up in his chest. “I dyed my hair to match.”

At least his brothers seemed to be as dumbstruck as him about that, even if Scott was watching his last bastion of support crumble before his eyes.

“Your Grandpa had the most amazing Harley,” she continued. “Ooh, what a beauty. Such a smooth ride. He really knew how to treat a girl, your Grandpa.”

Nope. Absolutely nope. Scott needed brain bleach, and an escape from the madhouse, preferably before he screamed.

With a hoarse yell that was only a yell, and not a scream at all, he yanked the front door open, all but ran through it, and slammed it so hard a shingle slid from the roof.

He stared at it for a moment before surging into a run, past the garage and that damn trike, over the front gate, and headed straight for… who cared, as long as it was away. Right then, the house could collapse or burn to the ground for all he really cared.

Scott tried to be tolerant, he tried to be fair to all of his brothers, but sometimes it was just too much to handle.

***

“Scott?”

He’d ended up sitting in a tree after running all through the woodland until his legs burned. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to stop his grandmother finding him when she wanted to.

“Are you ready to come home, dear?” she called up. He sighed and let his head thud against the trunk.

“Am I going to be ganged up on by my brothers over stupid things if I do?” he asked. “Because I think I’ve had enough of that.”

“Your brothers and I had a nice long chat, and we’ve put some new house rules in place,” she told him. “Gordon has agreed no more rallies and Alan no longer wants his hair dyed.”

“And Virgil and John?” he asked warily.

“Virgil has agreed not to provoke Gordon any more, but you two need to talk about policing each other’s clothes, young man.” Scott winced. “As for John, he knows he went too far, but just like with Virgil, you are going to have to talk to each other like the reasonable young men you are.” There was no reproach in her tone, but Scott felt scolded all the same.

He didn’t want to go home, but if Grandma was promising no more carnage… Scott could never bring himself to leave his brothers for too long. Reluctantly, he eased himself out of the tree, swinging from the last branch to the ground below.

“I know you don’t like what Virgil’s done to his hair,” Grandma said, looping her arm through his. “But remember it’s his hair, not yours.”

“It’s not that,” Scott admitted. “He can do what he wants with it; it’s that trike. He can’t wear a helmet with his hair all spiked up like that!”

“Then you should tell him that’s why you disapprove.” Grandma was, as always, full of logic. “None of you boys can read minds, you know. You have to talk to each other.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “Sorry, Grandma, I messed up.”

“You’re just worried about them.” She squeezed his arm fondly. “They’ll appreciate it when they’re older.”

“Will they?”

“They’re not the first teenage boys I’ve raised,” she reminded him. “There’s nothing you and your brothers have done that your father and uncle Lee didn’t do already.”

“…Even the punk mohawk?”

“I still have the photos.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #grandma tracy #teen tracys #thunderfluff

41 notes · View notes

flowerpowell · 3 years

Text

The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)

PART ONE

A/N: ..... Okay but hear me out. I sat down to finish my two ongoing series and this is what came out instead. It’s not my fault really. This is going to be a short series (about 4 parts me thinks) and it’s going to be cheesy and fluffy, wintery, Christmassy and very Hallmark-y (I watched too many Hallmark romcoms and this is the result).

A/N 2: This has nothing to do with the canon but the characters belong to Pixelberry.

Rating: G

Word count: 1668

Tagging (perma + TRR + Liam tags): @twinkleallnight @kingliam-rys @sfb123 @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @iaminlovewithtrr @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @dcbbw @kingliam2019 @thequeenofcronuts @jared2612 @annekebbphotography @lodberg *

*my taglist is very old so if you no longer want to be tagged in my posts, just let me know and I’ll take you off.

“Wow.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Victoria looked at the scenery in front of her, still not believing her eyes.

“It looks like I’ve just walked into a Hallmark movie set,” she admitted staring at the white wonderland. Her friend chuckled.

“It does look like that a bit. But Cordonia is always so mesmerizing this time of the year. Truly magical. You’ve never been here?”

“No. This is my first time here, and in Europe in general. And you?”

“A few times. I used to come here for winter holidays with my parents many years ago. The last time I visited Cordonia was three years ago when we were filming The Crown and the Flame. We spent a few months here and we were even invited to a dinner with the King and the Queen.”

“Seriously?!”

“Mhm.” Hana nodded slightly. “It was a very important movie for all Cordonians as it was about their beloved and legendary Queen Kenna Rys.”

Victoria sighed in admiration. Hana Lee was one of the most popular and talented actresses in the world. She was nominated to Oscars at least three times and ate dinner with the King and the Queen of Cordonia. And now she was standing next to Victoria Brooks, novice actress, in a snowy Cordonia and talking to her as if they were best friends, not just co-stars.

Victoria realized how lucky she was to be starring alongside someone like Hana. Great actress and even greater personality. No wonder she was so loved by many. And even though she was only playing Hana’s character’s sidekick, she was grateful for the opportunities that came with it.

~~~~

“Liam!!! You have to see this!”

Liam turned to see his friend Maxwell running into the office with a phone in his hand. “Look!”

“Maxwell, I can’t see anything if your phone is so close to my face. What’s happening?”

“Hana Lee is here! The Hana Lee! They’re filming a Christmas movie here, which she’s co-producing by the way, and I have to meet her. Please, please, Liam, use your kingly privileges and let me meet Hana!” Maxwell pouted and Liam bit his lip so he wouldn’t start laughing.

“I know you have a celebrity crush on her but isn’t it a bit too much?”

“You’re saying that just because you already met her and I wasn’t invited!”

“I barely had any chance to talk to her, it was mostly my father who did the talking but from what I remember she was truly a charming person.”

“Well, duh.” Maxwell rolled his eyes. “I just want to meet her. I’ve prepared a welcome dance just for her and I need to show it to her. She’ll love it!”

“And what do I have to do?”

“Come with me to the set and tell the security not to kick me out? You and Drake can hang out somewhere while I’ll be with Hana.”

Liam furrowed his eyebrows. “Drake is coming as well?” He asked.

“NO!” They heard Drake’s voice from the hall just as Maxwell opened his mouth to say ‘yes’. In a moment, their friend walked into the office and stopped right in front of them. “I already said no!”

“Come on, you guys! I have dreams too, you know?”

“And meeting an actress while bringing your friends with you is one of them?” Drake raised his eyebrow at Maxwell.

“I actually wanted to ask her something.” Maxwell blushed a little. “I wanted to ask her if she’d let me write her autobiography.”

“Err…” Liam started and looked at Drake for help.

“Maxwell, you can’t write her autobiography.”

“Why not? You doubt my writing talent?”

“No, actually, yes, but that’s not the point.” Drake shook his head.

“Only Hana can write her autobiography, you can write her biography,” Liam cut in. Maxwell shrugged.

“Same thing. Does it mean you’ll come? Pleaseeeeee. Pleaseeee, pleeeaase!”

Liam sighed as he looked at Drake who was shaking his head. “Yes, Maxwell. We’ll come.”

~~~~

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’ve just finished and I thought I’d go for a walk and explore a bit.” Victoria smiled at Hana who looked beautiful in a dress she was wearing for the opening scene.

“But we’ve just started rolling. How are you finished already?”

“Well… Your movie best friend doesn’t have that many scenes. I’m just a supporting character, remember?”

“Oh, okay.” Hana thought for a second. “Would you like to go through the tomorrow’s scenes later?”

“I think I’m okay. I only have a few lines and to be honest, I’m so used to playing background characters that I feel well prepared for shooting.” Victoria said it half-jokingly but Hana’s face fell a little.

“I’m sure if I talked to the—”

“No, Hana, no.” Victoria shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m happy with my role. I just wanted to say I’m well prepared for this role because I always play best friends. No whining intended.”

“Okay then.” Hana smiled. “Just remember some of the best actors got their awards for playing supporting characters.”

~~~~

Liam was looking at the set, unsure why he agreed to help Maxwell.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” Maxwell beamed as he was trying to spot Hana. The security let them in immediately after Liam introduced himself and his friends.

“Just remember we should—” Liam started but Maxwell ran off somewhere, half dancing. “—be going soon.”

“Yeah.” Drake nodded. “I’ll be with the food if you need me,” Drake said before leaving Liam alone.

He looked at the set; it was busy and Liam didn’t feel like socializing. He decided leave the set and go for a walk before he’d come again to take Maxwell and Drake back to the palace. The last thing he needed was people recognizing the King on their set.

~~~~

Victoria was wandering through the forest which was conveniently located near the movie set. She thought if she was to be in only a few scenes in the movie, she might as well use all the free time to explore Cordonia. And there was a lot to be explored.

Normally, Victoria would do a thorough research on the country she was going to but because her being in the movie was a last-minute decision, she had no time for anything except for packing.

She wasn’t complaining, though. There was something magical about exploring the country for the first time. She wanted to make the most of it.

What she told Hana was completely a lie. She wasn’t whining and she was truly happy to be playing Hana’s supporting character. Acting wasn’t the career of her choice. She was in love with cinema ever since she could remember. When she got into her dream film school she wanted to become a famous movie critic. Her plans were changed later when one of her professors told her she had a talent for acting and she should try it. Ever since, Victoria had small roles here and there. She loved seeing how the movie industry works from the inside but at the same time, the more she played, the more she longed for something more.

Not wanting to complain, she only silently wondered when she’d stop playing best friends and be a main character, at least once in her life. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the longer she was acting, the more she believed she wasn’t a main character even in her own life. Maybe it was supposed to be this way, maybe some people were meant to be supporting characters even in their own lives. Maybe it—

“Ooooff” Victoria’s stream of consciousness was interrupted when she bumped into something. Someone. A man.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“A local. Cordonian accent is really pretty,” she thought to herself as she nodded at the stranger.

“I’m sorry I bumped into you. I didn’t see you,” she admitted and the stranger laughed.

“From my point of view, you were looking directly at me. I assume you were lost in thought.”

“I was, sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. I always lose the sense of reality when I’m in nature myself. You’re a tourist, I assume?”

“I am. Just came here and wanted to explore a little.”

The stranger nodded. “The forests are usually not the first thing the tourists are visiting but I must admit, we do have amazing forests.”

“They might not be for most people but I love going for walks here and forget about my job, my life, everything.”

“Then I think we’re very much alike. I do like to forget about my job as well.”

“Is your job that bad?” Victoria asked and noticed the stranger’s face expression changed.

“It… can be. It’s very demanding and I… sometimes like to take a break. And you?” He changed the subject. “What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m—” she stopped. If she told him she was an actress he’d ask her what movies she played in. Victoria wouldn’t bear seeing the disappointment on his face when she’d explain she plays minor roles. Not when she started to like him.

“Victoria, stop it, you can’t think every single person you meet and have at least one thing in common with is your soulmate. You’re not living in a movie.” She scolded herself and she realized the stranger was still waiting for the answer.

“I’m… in the movie industry,” she finally said. “A critic. Well, a beginner but you get the idea,” she lied, laughing nervously.

“That sounds intriguing, umm…” he stopped at looked at her expectantly.

“Victoria! Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. And you are…?”

“Liam. Nice to meet you.” He extended her hand and to Victoria’s surprise, he kissed it, smiling at her. “And welcome to Cordonia. I hope you’ll have a great time in our beautiful country.”

Victoria felt a chill running through her body as Liam was touching her hand. She offered a small smile in return. “Yes… Me too.”

#choices #the royal romance #the royal heir #playchoices #king liam #liam x mc #king liam x mc #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #hana lee #trr #choices trr #I KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO LEAVE TUMBLR OKAY #but when the inspiration strikes you just gotta go with the flow

51 notes · View notes

puppyrazzi · 3 years

Text

So a general rundown of what happened:

They did what's called a Meckel's scan which checks for Meckel's diverticulum which is a bit of stomach, acid producing tissue in a random place in the intestines. That looked suspicious but when they ended up doing the 3d scan it looks like just artifact. Possibly I moved just a bit and the machine for mad.

They did blood tests which included lactate (normal within a day) and CRP (14 mg/L, then 18, then 20, then a day or two gap, then 31), and a C1 Esterase Inhibitor which was double the upper limit. Not sure entirely what that means for me/the doctors weren't sure.

They sent away some specialized tests for porphyria and a few others I think which have an 11 day turnaround. I'll get those results sometime next week.

They weren't overly dismissive of my issue (except one asshole who kept cutting me off mid sentence when I tried to explain my symptoms which, to any aspiring medical professionals, never do that. It's rude, you miss vital information sometimes, it makes your patient feel like you aren't listening to what the problem is, and it makes the patient lose confidence in how closely you are actually paying attention to their care.) And there was talk of doing a colonoscopy but they want to wait for things to settle down a bit and do it as an outpatient just in case this is just an acute gastroenteritis worsening a pre existing issue.

So the diagnosis is non existent but possibly:

Inflammatory bowel disease

Chronic pancreatitis

Something else?

The doctor who discharged me today was nice. She actually sat down and talked and listened. A+ she said we might never figure it out and she needs to be realistic about how much she can do (I get flare ups now and then so it's sort of chronic but way worse this past year and past couple months). Realistic with herself and with me. She sounded genuinely sorry that she couldn't figure it out this time but also told me if this is something new, sometimes it can take a bit for the diagnosis to be clear. I appreciate her honesty.

Anyways, onto the little stories.

One of the nurses who put in my iv (she's a nurse who pretty much just does ultrasound guided nursing procedures like IVs) was from Scotland. I was so sure she was going to be like "Naw, I'm from Wales" or some nonsense. But nope, bang on. Took a bit to pin down the accent in my mind. Not enough lilt to be Irish, not deep enough vowels to be Welsh, not long enough vowels to be English. So we chatted about BBC shows. She also liked Call the Midwife but stopped watching after season 3 but I was like it sucks for like half a season and then it picks back up. And she said she likes Shetland, which is fabulous. We also talked a bit of smack about the nurse who tried to put in an IV on the underside of my wrist and got mad when I flinched and she missed it. She had hit a nerve and damn that hurts and your whole hand goes numb and like lightning up your hand. And then the nurse who hit a nerve had the absolute audacity to bitch about me to another nurse directly out front of my door where I could hear them. Good nurse and I agreed that like it's fine to complain about a patient but like not where they can hear you? Like go gossip at the nursing station or the med room, not just outside the patient's room. Good nurse asked if I called them out on it and I didn't. It felt so awkward. Good nurse was like "I totally would have"

A nurse called me cute and said I have a cute face! I was squinting because of the pain and she made me laugh which hurt a bit but she had this "wow that's gorgeous" look when I laughed which was very good for the ego lul.

While I was gone, Sam slept with Chris and hung out with Chris exclusively until Sunday at which point Chris went to his parents to do his taxes. Then Sam switched to Dallas. Dallas told me Sam is a very polite bedmate. He said the first night Sam pawed at his shoulder and did the disgruntled huff. He said he was about to get up and let him out but the moment Dallas lifted the blankets, Sam dove under them. So that was a mystery solved. And then in the morning Sam will sit and grumble and paw occasionally so that he can be let out. It's this little "excuse me... Hate to be a bother sir/ma'am but I would like to go outside now please if that isn't too much trouble"

Sam begged for his other salmon roll and Chris gave in but Sam didn't chew it even a little bit. He just buried it all over the house. One day he brought it in to Dallas's room and buried it in the blankets on his bed. Dallas said he went to sleep and this was before Sam swapped sleeping partners and laid down on the salmon roll. He put it out in the living room for Sam to have in the morning.

And finally, I saved the cutest for last. Sam brought his sweater over to Chris deliberately. Chris held it up and Sam basically put it on himself and would run any time someone would try to take it off. I think that is so cute and such an excellent step in knowing if he wants clothes on or off. Currently I just ask him but if he can indicate the clothes he wants to wear and when he really wants them off? That's massive.

#dogblr #dog #samwise #aht #american hairless terrier #terrier #rat terrier #rattie #sam #human health #human medicine #medical #human medical #health #medicine #stories

19 notes · View notes

angelinasway · 3 years

Text

Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.” Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly. Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father’s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running. He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

12 notes · View notes

duxhess-kryzewan · 4 years

Note

If you are still taking prompts... how about Obi-Wan and Satine at a Senate gala or something and there are a lot of stolen stares and secret touches and our Jedi Master tries to stop himself because he tells himself he can't do that again, he's not a padawan anymore. But then Satine goes somewhere more private and he follows and they basically give into their feelings then and after a passionate angsty make out they leave together. (Basically angsty pining with a bit happy end?)

- illicit affairs -

If he were being honest, the entire affair was nothing more than for show, something that he had continuously told Anakin though the younger man didn't seem to care in the slightest. He insisted it they attend, rattling off some unconvincing speech about the positive light it would shed on the appearance of the Jedi in the eyes of the galactic republic now that they were no longer fighting in a war and how it had nothing to do with a certain Senator from Naboo attending.

Regardless, he relented, more to keep an eye on Anakin than because he actually thought them showing up would do much for the public opinion of the Jedi. It was nice to not have to worry about imminent death for an evening now that the there had been peace proclaimed throughout the galaxy, even if the entire function was strictly ornamental. Besides, someone had to make sure that Anakin and Padme weren’t being too obvious with what they still thought was a secret affair,

All in all, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

That was, until he caught sight of her.

How he hadn't realized that she of all people would be there he would never know. It was a peace summit, for force sake. In any other scenario should would be the one heading it, with her glittering blue dress and jewel woven hair.

"Master Kenobi."

A chill rushes down his spine at the sound of his name coming from her.

"Duchess."

Satine smiles warmly, "How nice it is to be here and see you not as adversaries in a grueling war, but as allies once again."

She sips her champagne and he swallows thickly.

"You and I have always been allies."

"Oh of course," She says with a sly grin, "I'd even go as far to say we were a far bit more than allies, wouldn't you?"

He spares a glance to the crowd around them, and while it seemed that no one was listening in on their conversation, he knew there were ears everywhere amongst the republics citizens and higher officials and was rather thrown off by how openly she was hinting at their past relationship. Surely if the war hadn’t been his undoing her words might be.

"Would I?" He asks.

She bats her eyes innocently, "We're friends, are we not?"

Oh yes, she would certainly be the death of him.

"Of course we are."

Where this newfound bravery came from, he doesn't know, but it's so unexpected that when she reaches forward and smooths down the front of his robes all he can do is freeze.

"A pleasure to see you as always, Master Kenobi."

And with that she turns, fading into the crowd and despite how wildly inappropriate it was (downright scandalous, really) he couldn't tear his eyes off of her, even as she made her way through groups of senators and socialites alike. And it seemed she couldn't look away either, because every time he caught sight of her she was already looking back at him.

So it became a silent game, with the two of them shuffling around the room in a forbidden dance of distance, socializing with whoever crossed their path. But she was always there, watching him watch her as she politely turned down advances of drunk senators and chatted giddily with Padme. Why he ever lets Anakin talk him into anything, he'll never know. The younger Jedi may have flagrant disregard for the rules of no attachment, but he wasn't one to follow the same trend even with Satine here.

Not anymore, at least.

A hand brushes gently against his arm; how had she managed to sneak up on him like that? His thoughts were getting the best of him, never would he be so distracted under any normal circumstance but there she was, pulling his mind in a million different directions. He had been so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn't realize she was passing by him until he felt her skin against his.

"Someone's feeling rather bold." He mutters to himself. Never would he have guessed that she would be the one to so dangerously flirt with him in the presence of anyone else. Satine was nothing if not a figure of propriety and decorum. Never has she been one to tip toe along the lines of something so illicit as running the risk of exposing...whatever it was that they were.

He sees Anakin chatting happily with Bail Organa and Padme, Ahsoka standing at his side with a pleasant smile on her face. It seemed that the young Padawan was also roped into attending like he was. How lucky she is not to be weighed down by the threat of exposing a less than acceptable relationship with a diplomatic figure. Not that Anakin seemed to be carrying that too heavily; the young man seemed more than happy to hold what should be a hefty burden.

In another life perhaps Obi-Wan would have been able to do the same; love Satine in tandem with his devotion to the order. But that was not the choice that they made.

Out of the corner of his eye the flash of Satine's blue gown catches his attention as she slips silently through one of the rooms exits. A brief glance at the time lets him know that it's much too soon for the party to be over, and he knows that she wouldn't be headed back to Mandalore prematurely. She had complained to him more than once about never having enough time to secure enough diplomatic allies for her planet.

And he knows its a bad idea, a horrible idea really, to make his way towards the same exit. And he knows its an even worse idea to actively feel out through the force to find her exact location, because that's truly a choice that he can not return from, but he does anyway.

The building the summit had been arranged in was one of the older ones found in the city; built when the civilization there had first been established. He never saw much use for it within a warring galaxy, there were too many lives being lost outside for anyone to ever consider holding something frivolous as an over glorified party, but here they were, and it seemed that Satine was more than enticed by the primitive designs of the corridors and all that they hold. Not that he can blame her for taking a break to wander, he more than anyone gets tired of the false niceties and stuffy atmosphere that politicians seem to carry with them.

"The festivities not lively enough for you?" He says. If she was unaware of his presence she showed no sign of surprise when he spoke.

"Drunken Senators and war torn socialites do tend to drain a person after a while, and I'm no use to anyone if I'm stuck fending off advances from entitled men instead of securing our independence from our adversaries. Even now I have to resort to talking my way into making political allies instead of just being allowed to rule my planet unbothered."

He chuckles. It was true, though he suspects that she was well versed in the art of talking her way in and out of any conversation.

"Valid point," He concludes, "Such is a prime example of why I don’t like to get involved with politics. Though I am glad you were able to attend. I'd rather it not be years in between us seeing each other again like last time."

There's something both soft and wicked swimming around in her eyes and it both excites and terrifies him.

“I miss you terribly some days,” She admits, “Seeing you brings me a great deal joy, I admit.”

“Me too.”

Looking back, he's not entirely certain who made the first move. He would like to say it was her, and that he had the self restraint not to initiate something so scandalous and code breaking, but he would be lying if he said he was certain it wasn't him. But the end result was still the same, with his hands clinging desperately to her waist and her fingers tangling in his hair. It had been so long since someone had touched him so lovingly and while somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a voice screaming at him for going against the code he holds so dear, every other sense within him didn't care in the slightest.

"I'm here until tomorrow evening," she whispers breathlessly against his lips, kissing him again before continuing, "Don't leave me tonight, please."

How could he deny her anything? All he’s ever done was leave her in the past; how could he ever take such a simple request away from her?

He grips her hip bones between his hands and pulls her closer to him, his lips dipping down to her exposed neck and the contact produces a contended sigh from her and he wonders how a single sound can fill him with so much warmth. It unlocks a newfound happiness he didn’t know was possible just by knowing he’s the one making her feel this way.

He kisses her neck one, two, three times before trailing back up to her cheek, pausing to whisper lovingly in her ear, "I wouldn't dare."

#obitine #obi wan x satine #obitine fanfic #obitine fanfiction #obitine prompt #obitine fluff

57 notes · View notes

fantastic-rambles · 3 years

Text

Shades of Love [5]

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Shindo Ainosuke (Adam), Sakurayashiki Kaoru (Cherry Blossom), Nanjo Kojiro (Joe)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: In which Kaoru and Kojiro introduce Adam to "ordinary" forms of entertainment. A lighthearted take on "trapped." [Adam Appreciation Week 2021 | Day 5: intimacy / trapped / flowers ]

Adam blinked as he looked around the small room, which was filled with a number of cheap props: an anatomy model that looked to be missing a few pieces; a copy of the periodic table printed out on a large sheet of paper tacked to the wall, with one corner curling from the loss of a pin; what looked like a blood pressure cuff lying on a chest of medical drawers; a flimsy looking cabinet in the corner...

"Come on, let's read the scenario!" Kaoru called out, picking up a laminated half-sheet from the top of the drawer and waving it at his friends. Clearing his throat, he started to read: "There has been an outbreak of a mysterious virus that has been producing zombie-like symptoms in its victims. You are members of an elite strike force from one of the last bastions of humanity, and you have been sent here after a researcher broadcast on the radio that she had developed a cure for this disease. However, after you arrived, your team found signs of a struggle, and you have begun to fear the worst. With the woman missing, your only chance is to find her research notes and safely bring them back to your headquarters so that humanity might have a chance to survive this plague. You estimate that you only have one hour before the zombies come to investigate, so you must find the scientist's notebook and escape before then."

"A zombie apocalypse! That's new!" Kojiro exclaimed, heading directly to the cabinet and tugging on the doors despite the chains and combination lock that were clearly holding them shut. "Alright, so this is definitely locked, which means that what we're looking for is probably in here."

Adam just continued to quietly watch as Kaoru started pulling open the drawers in the chest, taking out everything that he found inside and laying it on the surface. The two of them had explained the concept of an escape room to him, but he still didn't quite understand what he was supposed to be doing.

"If what we're looking for is in the cabinet, then can't we just find a way to pry it open?" he suggested. "The handles just look like aluminum, so if we can find something strong enough to slip through the chains and apply some leverage, we could probably just pop them off. Or, barring that, we could find a way to pull out the hinges on one side and just swing it open like that. And in the worst case scenario, we could simply break the glass and take out what's inside."

He saw Kaoru and Kojiro exchange a look, and then Kojiro abandoned the cabinet to start pulling apart the anatomy model.

"Sorry, maybe I didn't explain it well enough before we started," Kaoru started with a shake of his head. "When I said that the purpose of an escape room is to complete the objectives, I should have also said that it's basically an interactive puzzle. We're supposed to search this place for clues that will point us to keys that will then unlock various things so that we can complete the objective. Does that make more sense?"

Adam nodded, though it was still somewhat confusing. Was this the sort of thing that ordinary people did for fun? It seemed like some sort of form of escapism, not unlike when he was skating, but being stuck in a small room and messing around with props didn't seem all that interesting. Still, he was grateful to his friends for going through the effort to introduce these sorts of mundane activities to him. This was something that he'd probably never get the chance to do normally, so there was an air of novelty to it, at the very least.

"Please don't engage in any property damage, or we'll have to pay for it," Kaoru added, frowning, and Adam nodded again.

"Got it. So we're just solving puzzles, finding keys, and trying to get that notebook?"

"That's about it, yeah."

"Okay, if you two are finished, want to help out?" Kojiro called over to them, holding what looked to be a plastic liver. Another laminated card was poking out of a slit on the back, and he tugged it out, flipping it around to read what it said. "The elements of potassium permanganate may result in a valuable reaction. What the heck is potassium permanganate?"

"KMnO4. It's a dark purple crystal that has strong oxidizing properties," Adam replied instantly. Both of his friends turned to stare at him, eyes wide, and then Kojiro laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"Well, we definitely picked the right person to do this with. Alright, so what are the 'elements' of potassium permanganate?"

"Potassium, manganese, and oxygen. If we're supposed to use this chart..." Adam walked over to the drooping periodic table, smoothing up the fallen corner and looking at it. It was extremely simplified, just having the elements with their names, symbols, and atomic numbers. "Potassium is the 19th element, with a symbol of K. Manganese--"

"Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this down," Kaoru interrupted, scrawling notes down on a pad that was probably there for that purpose. "Potassium, 19, K. Go on."

Adam nodded once more. "Manganese is the 25th element, with a symbol of Mn. And Oxygen is the 8th element, with a symbol of O. There are four oxygen atoms in permanganate, though; I'm not sure if that's useful?"

"19-25-8. That's probably the combination to some sort of lock. 'jiro, check it out on the lock we found?" Kaoru suggested. Both he and Adam peered over Kojiro's shoulders as his fingers dexterously spun through the numbers, but when he tugged at it, the lock remained firmly shut. Just in case, he tried a second time--using 32 as the last number, per Adam's suggestion--but it quickly became clear that if that was some sort of combination, it wasn't to this particular lock.

"Okay, then, let's split up and tear this place apart. Call out if you find anything," Kaoru ordered. Adam felt like he was starting to understand the point of this, and he joined his friends in searching the room.

As they found more puzzles and locks, Adam began to discover that he was enjoying this. Logically, it still didn't make much sense to him--especially since he couldn't imagine a scientist ever doing something this convoluted to hide their research notes, and all the moreso since it was something that was allegedly needed to save humanity rather than some sort of industry secret--but just being able to spend time with his friends and laugh about the ridiculousness of their situation was a pleasure in and of itself. And the feeling of accomplishment when they finally found the combination for the cabinet, unwrapping the chains from the handles... well, that was nice, too.

Inside, they found a cheap briefcase that was locked. Clipped to the handle was one more padlock, the type with a keypad that would open up probably held the key for the briefcase. When Kojiro shook the case, they could hear something sliding around inside, and Kaoru smiled as he nudged Adam.

"There's only one clue that we haven't used yet. You should do the honors; you figured it out, after all."

But Adam hesitated, glancing at Kojiro, who nodded his agreement as he handed the case over to him.

"Ten minutes left!" a voice called out over the intercom, and Adam rested his thumb against the first button: 1. After pressing it, he put in the rest of the combination: 9-2-5-8, before pausing to look at his friends.

"Don't worry. If you fail, we're definitely going to eat your brain first," Kojiro joked. Shaking his head, Adam pulled on the body of the lock, smiling as it clicked open. Carefully, he extracted the small key that was concealed inside and used it to open the case, revealing a normal spiral notebook with a large "Top Secret!" sticker plastered across the front.

"And that's it! Let's get out of here!" Kaoru cheered, walking over to the door and depressing the button that lay beside it. The attendant had explained that they could use it to call for him if they ever needed help solving the problems, as well as when they had finished. As they waited, Adam flipped through the notebook, curious, only to find that the pages were all blank. Well, it wasn't like he was really expecting anything given the quality of everything else, so he set it down again as the door swung open and they were let out.

"So, how was that, Adam?" Kojiro asked as they left the shop, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"Better than I imagined," Adam replied truthfully, but then Kaoru was tugging at both of their arms.

"Hey, let's get a purikura to commemorate this! There's one right over there!"

"A… purikura?" Adam repeated, and Kaoru laughed, pulling them towards a strange booth.

"You'll see. Come on!"

#adamappreciationweek2021 #sk8 #SK8 the Infinity #skate the infinity #fanfic #fan fic #sk8 adam #shindo ainosuke #ainosuke shindo #sk8 cherry blossom #sakurayashiki kaoru #kaoru sakurayashiki #sk8 joe #nanjo kojiro #kojiro nanjo #mine

9 notes · View notes

lnarizakis · 4 years

Text

if ghosts could even love

masterlist

pairing: yamaguchi tadashi x fem!reader x tsukishima kei

foreword: hi! this piece was definitely out of my comfort zone, but really fun to write! this is an angsty guardian angel au. it is another attempt at angst since the only thing i’m pretty much decent at is fluff. so here i am, continuing to practice angst! this is also one of my first attempts at “aesthetic formatting,” so please go easy on me, hahah. thank you to @doughnuts-5ever for beta-reading! i hope you enjoy!!

word count: 1.6k

look out for: themes referring to death, mentions of suicide and manga spoilers, unrequited love, angst

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Warm air hit his face, and he was instantly met with a blinding light that shines even through his eyelids that he has to squeeze his eyes more shut than they already were. He couldn’t breathe, but he felt as free as an angel flying in the sky. Perhaps he was one. It seemed like a dream—to be up in the heavens, lying on the clouds; but when he opened his eyes ever so slowly, the pink and white and purple and yellow surrounding him like a flurry made him realize that he most definitely was not on Earth, but maybe, just maybe, he was in Heaven.

“Welcome to Heaven,” a voice boomed in his head, but it didn’t ring in his ears, shaking his being like all his mortal fears did when he was still alive. He’s...dead? But his soul felt so alive, he couldn’t possibly fathom that he was actually dead.

“Your good intentions on Earth did not go unnoticed,” the voice rang again. He looked around for the source of the message, but all he could find within the vast space of clouds and sky was himself— or, at least, what he thought was himself. He attempted to look down at his feet, but there were no feet in sight. It was just his soul, the empty ghost of what was once a former pinch server, captain, student, and best friend. “You are allowed to look over one person on earth for the rest of their life. You must have choose wisely; you are to watch over this person for the rest of your life. Who shall you choose?”

Without hesitation, he spoke out loud (if ghosts could even talk), “My best friend, Tsukishima Kei.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A flurry of bright colors covered his entire vision, and they turned darker and darker as they mixed with one another. The blizzard vanished before him, and he stood in front of his best friend, who sat at the edge of his bed. The lights of his bedroom were turned off, and through the closed blinds of the single window he could see that it was nighttime.

The ghost of a former friend leapt towards Tsukishima, in an attempt to hug him, but passed through his body like the spirit he was. There was certainly no way he could make contact with him at all. Tsukishima leaned forward, hands covering his face to mask his pained expression. As he groaned into his palms, the door to his bedroom slowly creaked open, revealing the shadowed figure of his older brother.

“Kei, are you okay?” He made his way towards his younger brother, only to be stopped by a stern “Leave.” Kei didn’t even turn around to look at his brother’s retreating figure.

“Tsukki, I’m right here,” the ghost called out. He was met with no reply—he was only a soul, after all. Tsukishima coudn’t possibly hear him. From behind his bedroom door, both Kei and the ghost could hear the older brother tell Kei that Tadashi’s—whoever that was—family had planned for his funeral to be the following week. A funeral? The soul made his way to reside next to Tsukishima’s hunched form, comforting him in any way he could.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

On the day of the funeral, Tsukishima showed up in a loose black suit and a tie. His head hung low, not wanting to partake in any second of this moment. The ghost thought he looked nice. As he made his way towards his best friend’s grave, Tsukishima made eye contact with a girl around his age whose tears for the deceased had already stained her cheeks for everyone to see. She turned towards Tsukishima, and the spirit who accompanied him felt a pang of familiarity in all the corners of his otherworldly body. Something about her just looked so, so familiar. Her name was on the tip of his tongue (if ghosts could even have tongues). There was no way for him to remember who she was.

“Hi, (L/N),” Tsukishima said, walking towards the girl. She wrapped her arms around his torso, but he made no movement of hugging her back. She sobbed into his chest, heaving out words she didn’t know she was saying. From behind the tear-stained girl, the mother of whom the ghost suspected was Tadashi joined the two and held out an envelope in front of Tsukishima.

“It’s for you,” she commented, as Tsukishima accepted the letter. The girl, whose name the ghost learned was (L/N), let go of her hold on Tsukishima and stood by him, watching him open the letter. He pulled out a sheet of paper that looked like it was impulsively ripped out of a math notebook on a lonely Thursday night. The handwriting looked familiar to the ghost, as if he had written out the message himself, but he had no memory of writing out a depressing suicide note like that. Tsukishima’s eyes slowly scanned the letter in front of him, but it was hard to read the ink towards the bottom of the paper that began to mix with the salty tears that dropped from his chin.

(L/N) held out her own letter, telling Tsukishima that she received one from him as well. She allowed him to read it, and the contents of it shocked him. His eyes widened, not believing a single thing Tadashi had written or her. The ghost’s best friend turned towards (L/N), who still looked ethereal as ever despite her puffy eyes and ruined makeup. She choked back a sob as she nodded, squeezing her eyes shut to keep more tears from letting out. Tsukishima looked at the ground, mumbling out, “I never knew.”

She said it was okay.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Several days later, it seemed like Tsukishima’s life returned to normal. In fact, it seemed livelier than usual, like an array of colors lit up his whole world. Maybe it was because he started dating (L/N), whom the ghost had come to know as (Y/N), brightening up his darkened canvas with the new warm colors in his life. Maybe dating her was his way of coping with his loss.

It hurt the ghost terribly, for her beauty had stirred his ghostly heart to begin beating once again. The ghost could see the way her laugh brought shades of yellow into Tsukishima’s life, and how her smile shined a pure white wherever she went. Whenever she hugged Tsukishima from behind to surprise him, or whenever she grabbed both of his hands to show him her support, shades of pink and red were splattered onto the canvas of his life. It seemed to the ghost that because of his death, a new beginning came for Tsukishima.

New feelings (if ghosts could even produce the merest of feelings) also rose within the ghost himself as he too began to fall in love with (Y/N). These feelings, though, were so familiar despite only having known her for several days; it was like he had been in love with her before. He felt so at home with these feelings—it was like falling in love with her was what he had always wanted; what he had longed for as an empty soul.

What the ghost had come to realize was that he was Tadashi and that he used to love (Y/N) while he was alive. He didn’t know what to do with this new information—or perhaps old information, and that he was to inevitably learn this—but he knew what to make of it. Tadashi had to understand that he never told (Y/N) how he felt, resulting in these feelings of his still burning alive even after his death on Earth.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Y/N) clung to Tsukishima’s side just like how a similar someone did to him while he was still alive. It was almost like she was a replacement for him. She was so constantly around him that it seemed like Tadashi was not only watching over Tsukishima, but also (Y/N). He observed her every quirk and learned all of her expressions. Tadashi knew just how in love with Tsukishima (Y/N) was, but the boyfriend himself couldn’t see it.

Tadashi could vividly remember one rainy Thursday afternoon, an instance in which he was so pained to be so in love yet so out of reach for (Y/N). Through the open blinds of the one window of his bedroom he could probably count each rain droplet that was stuck to the glass in the time the two were cuddled up on Tsukishima’s bed. He was fast asleep, tired out of his mind from the busy morning he had. (Y/N), though, was awake but slowly falling into a deep slumber in the warmth of his arms. Tadashi could remember her eyes—oh, her eyes—that were so in love with the boy in front of her, and he knows that if he were still alive he could give her the same kind of affection that she gave him. It hurt knowing, and it hurt that he could only imagine.

It hurt Tadashi’s soul seeing (Y/N) so in love with Tsukishima. It hurt knowing that he was in love with his best friend’s girlfriend. It hurt how he could never tell (Y/N) he loved her (if ghosts could even fall in love). Even while he was still alive. Oh, how he loved her while hew as alive. She made him feel as free as a bird up in the sky and as alive as a raging fire whose sparks crackled and flamed up in the night. It was so ironic how now, as an angel so free up in the heavens, he felt trapped inside a cage. Trapped, because he could never escape the longing he felt of livign someone who could never love him back, and the suffocation he felt knowing that he could definitely treat her better.

Tadashi laughed (if ghosts could even laugh). How selfish.

#haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi #tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #ummm so yeah sorry i killed yamaguchi :(#if there are some parts u would like me to clear up lmk #cadekagi

90 notes · View notes

k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Owl House/Fairy Tail Crossover First Episode Part 1

Hello All, today, I am transcribing the Owl House/Fairy Tail story I created over hear, for your reading pleasure!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!!

“Phew! Looks like I lost them!” With an exhausted sigh, Luz Noceda crashed to the ground. “Just once, I wish I could go into town without a disguise and NOT get chased by Rune Knights. Is that REALLY too much to ask?”

With a sigh, Luz hauled the satchel she carried across her shoulder off, riffling through the numerous papers and books stored within. ‘Sometimes, I wished that I was better at thinking things through… but then I remember how boring that is!’ She mused to herself, before laughing aloud in response.

“Still, that was a close call.” Stretching herself out, Luz slipped a picture out of her pocket, gazing fondly at the photo of her and her mother, laughing together. It was one of the few mementos Luz had managed to keep of that time. “I better prepare, never know who could show up.”

One campfire, properly covered to conceal any smoke or light it may give off, and give away her position, and one emergency shelter later, Luz laid into a hearty soup she managed to make. So what you will about her social skills, but Luz definitely knew how to survive off the land… with a little help from the odds and ends she “Found” in town today.

With her belly full, Luz decided it would be a good point to get ready for bed, at least after she got some reading done. “Challenges of Space-Time and the Continuum? Nah, already read that, dull as dirt. Masterworks of Weaponry: A Guide to Gear both Standard and Exotic, cool but more technical than I’m in the mood for…”

As Luz narrowed her choices, she eventually reached the SECOND big memento of her Mother among her things: The Good Witch Azura, a fantasy novel series that had been the guiding beacon to her life of adventure and intrigue up until now. A complicated look appeared on Luz’s face. Ordinarily, she’d stash this book away, content with her memories of happier times that it brought to the surface, but today, she felt like maybe she should give it a proper read. As the words danced across her vision, Luz sunk deeper and deeper into her memories, heedless of the tears pricking at her eyes. All she could see was the wonderful, maddening book that had given her so much joy and heartache. The last thing her Mother had given her before she set out on her journey. Before she could fully lose herself in her thoughts, Luz’s attention was grabbed by the sound of an Owl hooting. Specifically, an Owl hooting from just a few short feet away.

As Luz turned her head, she caught sight of the dumbfounding image of a tiny brown owl, something she would normally coo over in delight at the sight of, were said adorable owl not currently lifting into the air, her satchel of works stored within a burlap sack it was carrying. “TINY BAG THIEF!!”

With a roar of outrage, Luz launched herself after the owl, internally marveling at its ability to support all that weight with its little body, but more than anything furious at being robbed. Luz DESPISED the idea of being stolen from. With an accompanying burst of wind at her steps, Luz effortlessly dodged the trees and boulders the little owl weaved around in an effort to shake her. As Luz closed in, her hand just inches away from snatching the owl’s burden… she tumbled through the rather obvious door-shaped portal that had been floating in the air.

With a cough, Luz pulled herself to her feet, finding herself in a canvas tent, the familiar rumbling of a market just outside. Whatever resulted in her coming here, it didn’t seem malevolent… for now. As Luz looked around the interior, she noticed how odd so many of the items stored within were. “Wow, and I thought I’d seen some weird stuff.” Luz walks over to a shrunken head. “But this? This is impressive.”

“Okay Owlbert, let’s see what you’ve got for Mama today!”

“Who the what now?” Confused, and intrigued, Luz moved closer to the tent flap. As she looked out, she let out a soft gasp of awe. Before her was one of the most fascinating sights she had ever seen, beings of all forms and figures trading and haggling in an old-fashioned bazarre. The tent she found herself in seemed to connect to a stand, one staffed by a surprisingly foxy older woman, grey hair held tight behind a bandanna, wearing a stylishly torn red dress. “Okay, let’s see where this goes…”

As the woman pulled out multiple valuable objects, including an Archive Terminal that Luz legitimately cried at seeing tossed like trash, discarding each without a moment’s hesitation, only to settle on some novelty glasses as being the thing to “Make her rich.” Yeah, Luz wasn’t too sure about that. But when she pulled Luz’s precious satchel and held the treasures over a fire? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

“NOPE!” With a lunge, Luz leapt into the air, grabbing her satchel and the book Eda had been holding over a flame, and smoothly landed on her feet, not five feet away. “Yeah, sorry lady, but this is mine.”

With that said, Luz took off running, ducking back into the tent and heading for the portal, only to come up short as it folded up into… was that a briefcase? “You’re not going anywhere.” Okay, so the probably crazy lady could do a decent threatening voice. Well then…

Luz lunged towards the woman, aiming a sharp right hook for her torso. The lady’s eyes widened, before she shifted to the side, avoiding what would’ve been a stinging blow by the skin of her teeth. Growling, Luz crouched to the ground and spun, hoping to sweep the woman’s feet out from under her, only for her to once again dodge, smoothly leaping over the attack, now sporting a teasing grin. “That the best ya got kid?”

“Not even close.” Luz snorted. Alright, no more Ms. Nice Girl. Deciding she needed to end this quickly, Luz brought her fist to her open palm, a bright light building at the point of connection. “ Light-Make:”

The woman’s eyes widened. “What the-!?”

“Surging Spear!!” With a fierce grin, Luz released her spell, laughing inside at the dumbfounded look on the woman’s face as a bevy of ornate spears, all crafted from solid light, drove themselves into her gut, launching her into the street.

With a huff, Luz followed after, squaring off from across the lady (who she really needed to learn the name of).

As she pulled herself to her feet, the woman groaned out. “How in the Titan’s name did you do that?”

Luz blinked. “Magic.”

“Yeah, I know that, duh! I meant how can YOU use magic at all?” The woman snorted, a look of fascination in her eyes.

“I learned how.” Luz grunted, an annoyed glare fixed upon her face. “Want me to show you what else I’ve learned?”

The woman grinned. “Absolutely.”

Teeth bared in an answering grin, Luz leapt forward. As she closed in on her opponent, she focused on the energy flowing within her, and shouted, “Water Dance: Percussive Rhythm!!”

In response to her spell, water blossomed around her, circling her wrists and ankles. As she finally entered melee range, she lashed out with a trio of kicks, blunt whips of water following each. The woman dodged the kicks, blocking the water strikes using her staff, before retaliating with an overhead blow. Spinning away from the blow, Luz used the momentum to throw a punch, grinning in satisfaction as it and the accompanying water strike connected, as well as the following grunt of pain.

The grey-haired lady snorted, twirled her hand and produced a glowing ring in response. Luz may not have been familiar with spells of whatever type she was about to use, but better safe than sorry. She jumped back, and just in time, as a slithering tube of stone burst from the ground, the leading part shaped into the face of an Owl. Backflipping away from the spell, countered with her own. “Clinging Flames!”

Her spell lashed out in the form of numerous small sparks, which, while not very powerful, had the ability to cling to something without being overtly damaging, weighing it down. As the spell of the woman met her own, the flames lived up to their name, clinging to the Owl Tube and pinning it to the ground. Capitalizing on the distraction, Luz rushed in, launching an overhead kick to the woman’s face, only to be blocked by her staff.

“You’ve got some moves!” The woman grinned, the fierce joy of a challenge burning in her gaze. “What’s your name anyway?”

Luz returned her grin. “Luz Noceda! You?”

The woman barked a laugh. “Ha! I’ll make sure to remember that. The name’s-”

“EDA THE OWL LADY!!”

With the sudden shout, the crowd that had been watching their brawl scattered, cowering in fright behind the stands and trees. Coming towards them were a menacing trio of masked thugs, local guards or law enforcement by Luz’s estimate. Still, at least she had a name.

The lead guard stomped forward with a growl. “You are wanted for Crimes against the Empire, Misuse of Magic, and Demonic Misdemeanors!”

The now-named Eda groaned. “Will you bozos just leave me alone all ready? I haven’t done anything!”

“And you!” The guard turned his finger to Luz, ignoring Eda. “Are coming too!”

“WHAT!?” Luz shouted. “What did I do!?”

The guard snorted dismissively. “Disturbing the peace and destruction of private property.” He gestured, bringing Luz’s attention to the numerous signs of her’s and Eda’s duel, wreckage scattered about. The guard turned back to them, what little of his eyes could be seen behind his mask glinting in dark delight. “The both of you will be coming with us to the Conformatorium! And please, feel free to resist.”

Luz felt rage, white hot and murderous, burn in her chest. This bastard was more or less saying that, because she was defending herself, something that she was now starting to think may have just been her overreacting again but still, she was going to be arrested, tossed in prison, and left to rot. Turning her gaze to an equally enraged Eda, she asked, “Truce.”

Eda blinked, before grinning ferally. “Truce.”

With a roar, the two rushed the guards. Luz dropped down, sliding under the legs of the lead guard, a ball of wind building in her hand. “Sparrow Swarm!”

Her spell lashed out in a burst of wind bullets in all directions, each individual hit resembling a small bird strangely enough, and took out the guard before he could react. With a twirl, she spun towards the next guard, Eda having already brought down the one closest to her, and they both launched a quick strike to the remaining guard, sending him onto his back. Luz was honestly surprised at how quick they went down, but then again, they didn’t actually seem all that competent. As she climbed to her feet, she spotted Eda magically collapse the stand they had been fighting near just moments before into a bundle she could carry over her shoulder. As the crowd from before came out, roaring in delight at the spectacle, Luz chuckled, rubbing her head in satisfaction at the outcome. Before she could start enjoying the cheers, however, Eda grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her onto her staff, which was flying and COULD FLY apparently, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Up you go, kid!” Eda smirked. “You owe me some answers, and I’d hate for Wrath’s goons to get their hands on you.”

Luz rolled her eyes. “Fine, but you owe me some answers yourself. Deal?”

Eda laughed. “Deal!”

And with that, they took off for the sky.

#the owl house #owl house au #fairy tail #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #magic

5 notes · View notes