#If you're reading these tags and know Art Things then I'm on my knees asking for critique | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-gemz · 3 years

Text

Summary: This is a continuation of the movie Before We Go and my interpretation and imagination of an A/U. Brooke is you (Y/N) and Nick is still Nick :)

Prompt: "Just admit that I'm right." for @the-ce-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles for Nick Vaughan.

Pairings: Nick Vaughan x Y/N

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: <2k...is this a drabble still? Oopsies XD

A/N: I watched this movie for the first time just last week. It's now one of my top 3 Cevans movies! While I'm all for a romantic, serendipitous, spontaneous trope...much like Before Sunrise *no spoilers*, the ending was great, but I wanted a different spin. No pressure...yah, right! Either way, hope you enjoy xx.

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @tonystankschild @a-little-counter-esperanto

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

You sniff and rub the end of your coat sleeve with your nose. Had to be the chill in the air, you thought. Not the fact that you just spent the most amazing and life changing night with a man you just met hours before and it was ending.

You stare out the train’s window; the gentle hum of the cart gliding across the steel tracks echoed in your thoughts. You shook your head in thinking that you made a mistake. I should have stayed...I should have told him how I felt…

“Nick. It's you again. Listen. I want to give you one more piece of advice. You're gonna be playing one night... Grand Central... thinking of every reason in the world to not go see the girl that broke your heart. Then, you're gonna meet somebody. And now, at first, she's gonna seem… icy. You're gonna know right away she's trouble. She's gonna take all your money. You're probably gonna get punched in the face. But stay with her; you're gonna need her a lot more than she needs you. And at the end of the night, you're gonna want to say some things, but don't. Don't ruin it. It's nothing she doesn't already know. Just give her a kiss. Wish her good luck. And thank her. Thank her for showing you that you can love more than one person in this life.”

He was unbelievably charming. You said so yourself. His raw talent with the trumpet was beautiful and different from what you were used to. The suburbia of the Boston bubble was what you were forced to live in now. You were from London, you were cultured and refined. Sure things with Michael were exciting at first, but the ho hum of the daily diatribe of routine became loathsome. Dépaysement. But you still never wavered in your marriage. Unlike Michael who had crossed that sacred line and lost your trust. It wasn't even fully the physical aspect that he went to another woman. It was the intimacy of telling her his deepest desires and then some that hurt the most. That he would want to share that with anyone else but you. But tonight. Tonight was what made you see clearly.

"It's possible, isn't it? It's possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else," you asked as you bit your lip.

"No, no, see, I think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else."

You found yourself blushing and cupping your cheek in thoughts of Nick. He was right. The whole night was a cluster mess of you trying to get home before Michael so you'd be able to throw away that wretched note. That he'd come to his senses and forget Linny. That he'd realized he was a fool and you'd start over. Just like old times.

However, slowly that feeling of reconciliation faded away little by little as each hour in the city passed. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but somehow the scrappy trumpet player Nick Vaughan etched his way into your icy heart and left an impression and stayed.

His fluffy, dark hair - so soft and inviting for you to rake your fingers through it was enough to drive you mad. His scruffy beard, which tickled when you kissed. You already loved ghosting your palms over it softly and imagined being able to do it whenever you wished. He said earlier into the night you weren't his type; you scoffed, but we're annoyed that it bothered you. You were a classic model of what guys were into, looks wise. Sure, your attitude was what rubbed some people the wrong way, but Americans really were too sensitive.

He however...he was the full package. Every toothy grin, wink, and full hearty laugh. He was addicting. He was a dead ringer for a heartthrob, but you also couldn't hate the guy for it. He was the friend you'd call to bail you out of jail at 4am and the boyfriend that you could see settling down with. It was nauseating really.

And then his lips. His soft lips...you can’t believe you kissed him in the hotel room. And then again at the train station. But you would have kicked yourself for not doing so in the first place. The way your fingers interlaced themselves on his terry cloth robe, how desperately you wanted to press your body against his. All you wanted was for him to feel that burning need within the apex between your thighs and extinguish it all night. But it was more than that, he was what you were missing. But you were kidding yourself. You weren’t running to Michael, you were running away from Nick.

But why? Because of the unknown? Because he actually knew who you were deep down inside? How could a man you barely knew, change you? Change what you thought was true, what you thought was love?

You dove your hand into your wool jacket’s pockets to push any thoughts of self-doubt, when you realize there was a piece of cardstock. You were puzzled to find it and immediately smiled in recognizing the hotel survey card. You bit your lip as you read down the survey questions one by one and notice Nick’s handwriting at the bottom, ‘turn over’ with an arrow.

Curious you turn over the hotel card and he’s written the word ‘yes’. Yes? You furrow your brow and contemplate further what he would be saying yes to. You think about the night - the time at the bar, helping him with Hannah, when you went to the psychic reading. Yes? What in the world - and then you turn the card back over and realize that on the second to last question it asked “Will you be likely to return?”

None of the boxes are checked, but he’d written ‘yes’ on the back. Yes. Yes he’ll return? Where? To the hotel? But when? You look up and rush to think about stopping the train dead in its tracks to return back to Grand Station. You breathe out heavily and come to terms that this isn’t a movie. He’s not chasing you down the tracks, jumping on the train to find you. Or is he? You wouldn’t put it past him. The whole night was filled with serendipitous concourses, this would be icing on the cake. You dart your head around to see if he’s in the cable car. It’s like in every rom com movie ending, the man of your dreams will be right there. He’s somehow charmed his way into boarding the train and found you waiting like a princess in her high tower. The train car is dark and bleak, only a few passengers are riding it as it’s the first route to Boston on a Sunday. You peer over to see if he’s in the next cart, but alas he is not. You slump in your seat and rub your thumb methodically over his words.

"Have you ever had a feeling that somebody was going to play a major part in your life?” you ask.

“Yeah."

“Do you know the most interesting thing about hotel art? It's what's on the back.”

It’s then you realize you have to return to New York. This story wasn’t about you and Michael anymore. No, it was about the man who selflessly helped you while you were in need, not only at your dire hour, but metaphorically as well. This was meant to be. You were meant to miss your train, break your phone, and meet the handsome man named Nick Vaughn. You knew he’d still be in the city because of his audition for the day with Duke at least, if you could just get to him somehow...

Your knees bounced as you sat on a cushioned chair in the hotel lobby. You had planned to wait there all day, but then realized the $13 train ticket was your only way of providing you security back home. So you went home. Confronted Michael. Cursed, cried, and then relief rushed over you as he had read your letter and how you knew about the affair. How you wanted to throw fists on his chest and tell him how much you hated him. But once you saw him, you found it didn't matter to you anymore. Someone else was worth fighting for. Your marriage was over. The hatred and spite you once had for your husband had dissipated. Your world didn't end like you thought it would. This wasn't your only chance at love. You were choosing to be happy, whether it was with Nick or not. This was the first time you were going to jump without having a net.

And Nick was wrong. Michael didn't want to work things out, he was coming to tell you that he loved you, but that and he'd be returning to Atlanta for good. The house, car, everything was yours: Nick said so himself, you gotta be okay with not being okay. So you walked away. You made the choice just like the psychic said and took it in stride, you faced the music.

However now you found yourself back in New York. Not the once stranded woman at a crossroads less than 24 hours before, but the woman that made a choice. You were worried that Nick would see it as you running away again. Running away because Michael didn't choose you. But in reality you didn't choose each other.

Still without an ID, you took your car and better against the four hour drive to the city and hoped a cop wouldn't pull you over. You thought of the night in the hotel. The laughs, the closeness you two encountered. The playful and cheeky way he could make you feel seen. You were starting to get nervous, what if he doesn't show up? What if I missed my chance?

"I'm an idiot," you murmur to yourself. "I can't believe I'm here."

You stand up and realize there Nick was there in your path. He looked a little worn, obviously from staying up all night. But he had changed and showered from the looks of it, and his signature trumpet case held in his hand.

"Well look who it is. The biggest loser in New York."

You laughed and blushed at the sight of him. He slung his trumpet case over his broad shoulder and walked over to close the gap.

“Just admit that I’m right.”

"Admit what?" You ask as you find yourself touching his jacket sleeve.

"Admit that you couldn't get enough of me." You hitched a breath from his words.

"You can say that."

"I can't believe you came back," he responded. His blue eyes gazed into yours as he brushed away a tendril of hair from your face.

"I read your answer to the survey...on the back."

"The stay did exceed my expectations and I did say I would return," he smiles.

"And here you are."

"Here I am…" he pulls away slightly as he's reminded that you're married.

"I jumped," you replied.

He's taken back by your statement and furrows his brow.

"What? With what?"

"I told Michael it was over."

"Wow. I'm so...sorry, Y/N."

"Don't be. You said so yourself, at some point it was time to face the music."

He nodded, absorbing the information.

"Say what's in your head."

He shook his head and grinned,"I'm just glad you came back is all."

"Yeah? How'd you know?"

"I didn't. Just sure as hell hoped you would."

He intertwines your fingers with his and holds tight. Like a missing puzzle piece found, your hand fits perfectly with his.

"Whaddya say we get out of here?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I may know a place," he smiles devilishly and gives your knuckles a kiss.

You grab his dress shirt collar and turn him towards you. He runs his hands through your hair and places his lips upon yours, kissing you deeply. It's a kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after you part, neither open your eyes for a few moments afterwards and he embraces you tightly.

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

#drunk drabbles #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #nick vaughan #before we go #before we go spoilers #nick vaughn x reader #romance

61 notes · View notes

youbloodymadgenius · 4 years

Text

Yours (Vampire!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @geekandbooknerd‘s Birthday Challenge. Happy Birthday, Hayley 💝

The prompt We are all someone’s monster (Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows) is in bold.

@bluearchersstuff - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖 It was the first time, it won’t be the last 😉

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Moodboard made by the talented @gearhead66 ♥️

Summary: You hate Halloween and of course you hate Halloween parties. But who’s this handsome guy who’s looking at you?

Warnings: not my best work, I’m sorry.

Words: 1821

You roll your eyes, sighing at your own stupidity. For the umpteenth time tonight, you're wondering what you were thinking about when you agreed to come. Of course, Sofia is your best friend, and she is the one who asked you to go with her.

Yet, you should have known better.

You dislike Halloween. Scratch that. You hate Halloween and everything about it with a passion. You hate dressing up. You hate cobwebs, fangs, zombies and skeletons. You even hate squash soup, and that's saying a lot!

But yeah, your friend can be convincing when she has a mind to be. And that's why you're here – almost against your will, so to speak – at Ben's house. Ben with whom Sofia slipped away over an hour ago. Probably upstairs. You don't even want to think about what they're doing right now.

Anyway, you're here, and that's all that matters…

The pounding music is too loud, the people too drunk, the place too crowded. If it wasn't for the handsome stranger who hasn't stopped looking at you since you showed up, you wouldn't be here anymore.

Nervously pulling and tugging on the little black dress borrowed from Sofia – oh no, not a simple black dress, a black dress with fucking skeleton print – you make up your mind and head toward the makeshift bar. You need a drink if you intend to stay. Something strong, possibly.

A 'Vampire Cocktail' in hand, you slowly cross the room. With every step, you can feel the stranger's gaze upon you; and you know with unsettling certainty that if you look back at him, he wouldn’t lower his eyes.

He was apparently alone, does not talk to anyone, or dance, and didn't look at anyone but you.

You should feel embarrassed, or even upset, but you aren’t. Knowing that his eyes are staring at you like that is surprisingly pleasant. And you can't help but feel hopelessly drawn to him, almost magnetically, or magically. Because strangely, wherever you are in the room, the man is there, never more than a few steps away from you.

The room may be dark, but you still can see the otherworldly blue of his eyes. You're entranced, fascinated, mesmerized.

Giving him a shy smile, you quickly avert your gaze, blushing. As you raise back your head, the man is gone, but when a gloved hand brushes against yours, you know it's his, without a doubt.

"Shall we go out?" He asks with a sultry voice that sends shivers down your spine. Even if he gives you a questioning look, his hand gesturing toward the large patio door, you know it's a rhetorical question. You don't have a choice and you don't mind it. The stranger wraps a strong arm around your waist, leading you toward the backyard.

You follow him willingly, almost obediently, a small smile playing on your lips. He leads you without saying a word, and as soon as the patio door closes behind you, the only sound you can hear is the thud of his cane on the gravel.

"Better here, right?" He takes a seat on a porch swing, inviting you to do the same.

"I have been dreaming of this moment for so long." His voice is hoarse as he slightly leans toward you, boldly resting a hand on your knee.

Confused, you want to ask him what he means. After all, you met for the first time less than two hours ago. But you don't get the chance, since he speaks again. "Very nice dress, by the way."

Scrutinizing you in the bright moonlight, he looks at you shamelessly, his gaze stopping first on your neck, then your cleavage, your breast and finally your fishnet stocking-clad thighs.

Intimidated, you blush and say the first thing that pops into your head. "Your… your Halloween costume is a piece of art. It's so… real…"

"My… what?" Quirking a brow, the man looks at you in disbelief.

"Your…," your shaky voice gives away your nervousness, "Your Dracula costume is… magnificent."

You're not lying. His clothing is stunning. From his three-piece suit – obviously made of luxury fabrics – to his silk cape of extremely high quality, everything suggests that his complete outfit is undoubtedly very expensive. As for his cane, you're willing to bet that its snake-shaped handle is made of… gold, no less. In any case, it's impressive and the handsome stranger makes a vampire truer than nature.

Visibly taken aback by your last assertion, the man just stares at you with wide eyes. It's as if what you just said didn't make sense to him. When an icy wind swirls suddenly around you and makes you shiver, he eventually speaks sternly, almost as he were scolding you, his jaw tight. "This is not a costume."

You're baffled, puzzled, confused. 'This is not a costume?' What does he mean?

"What… I don't… Wha–" You sputter, unable to gather your thoughts. Your heart hammering in your chest, you feel a knot growing in your stomach. Something feels wrong. Something feels very wrong.

His piercing blue eyes staring into yours, you want to avert your gaze, overwhelmed and slightly scared. But when he speaks again, it's with a velvet like voice that soothes you immediately, erasing your discomfort. "Shh… It's okay…" You wonder for a brief moment how someone can change their mood so quickly. You don't dwell on it though, because when he gives you a closed-lips smile, gentle and sweet, it melts your heart and you realize that, as if by magic, your fear is gone, replaced by desire and attraction.

What strange power does this man have over you?

Slowly, one finger at a time, the stranger takes off his gloves and places them on the swing next to him, while staring at you the whole time.

As he reaches out, his hand just inches from your face, you can't resist, and you don't want to. The pull is too powerful, the longing too strong. You want him to touch you. You need him to and so you lean forward, craving for his skin against yours.

But as soon as his fingers graze your cheek, you freeze, bemused and appalled.

They are cold. Abnormally cold. Ice-cold. Colder than… death. You swallow loudly and then get up hastily. "I… I sh… should… go…" You stammer, panic flooding your body. You want to run away but the man doesn't give you the chance as he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tight. " That would be extremely rude when we've only just met, don't you think?" His voice is a whisper, his tone soft but you know you don't really have a say, nor a choice.

Slowly getting up, he leans on his cane, wraps his free arm around your waist and draws you closer. He's so unnaturally strong, you can't even move as a cold wave washes over you. "I'll be gentle if you do as I say." He mumbles, his mouth against your ear.

Questions plague your mind suddenly. Why is he so pale? Why can't you feel his breath on your face? Why are his eyes bloodshot? Why didn't you notice anything earlier? You're terrified now, aware of the danger with absolute certainty.

"Who… Who are you?" You don't even know how you manage to babble those words. You feel weak and unsteady on your shaky legs. If it wasn't for his firm grip, you would certainly have fallen down by now.

"It's okay, Y/N…" He says once again, and you want to believe him, despite your fear, despite the… cold. A little voice in your head whispers that you never told him your name, but it doesn't matter, not when he's looking at you with so much tenderness.

What is he doing to you?

"I'm Ivar." His reassuring voice is gentle, as is his smile. "Ivar Ragnarsson." He doesn't say anything else but it's enough. That's all you need to know. You're relieved. He's Ivar. Of course. Who else – what else – could he be? You've been so silly. All those strange things… The cold, his eyes, his breathing – or his lack of – there is necessarily a pragmatic explanation for each of them. The truth is you don't care. He's Ivar. A handsome and very considerate stranger that you want to get to know better, and that's enough. Everything is fine. It's okay, he's right.

"Ivar…", you eventually repeat softly, and you love the way his name rolls off your tongue. Chuckling, you can feel yourself relaxing in his embrace. "You're going to think I'm dumb, you know? I wondered for a moment if you weren't a…", you gasp, feeling shy and embarrassed, but Ivar just looks at you, patiently waiting for you to carry on, and that's what you do. "… A vampire, you know. But obviously you're not. You're just a guy my age, with a fantastic Halloween costume, and it seems that I can't think properly, because who would think you're some kind of monster? That's insane, and I'm so sorry, and now I'm going to shut up because I'm pathetically rambling and if I continue I'm sure you won't want anything to do with me and that would be a shame because I– Oh my god, sorry!!" Covering your mouth with your hand, you blush as you realize what you were going to say. 'Because I'd love to kiss you, touch you, feel you…'

What is he doing to you?

Ivar keeps quiet, a semi-amused smile on his face. Eventually, he closes his eyes and then tilts his head back. "So, you thought I was a… how did you say?... a monster…" You can almost hear his grin.

"I know," you say shamefully, "that's stupid! You're allowed to laugh at me, you know? I won't get mad, really. I don't know what went through my head. A monster! What a ridiculous thought!!"

Ivar giggles while keeping his eyes shut. "Maybe not. You know what they say… We are all someone's monster…"

And then, he opens his eyes. And everything goes faster.

His eyes turn black. A feral growl escapes his lips. His smile is a predatory one.

You can clearly see his pointy fangs.

And you feel weirdly calm. You're not surprised, and you're ready. You need him, all of him.

"I don't know if it's true…", you don't recognize his voice, hoarse and raspy, but you don't mind, as you don't mind when he pushes your hair away, his teeth already grazing the delicate skin of your neck.

"However,” He mutters as you arch against him unwittingly, "there is one thing that I can say for certain. I'm definitely yours."

And right after that, sharp fangs piercing down into the flesh of your neck, a burning pain lances through you, fading soon into an aching pleasure. You release a gasp, bucking your hips.

"Please, unravel me, Ivar."

What did he do to you?

🛡⚔️🛡

@geekandbooknerd @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @inforapound

#hayley'sbirthday #ivar #ivar x reader #vampire!ivar #vampire ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfiction #ivar fanfic #ivar fic #ivar imagine #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #halloween is coming #so why not

164 notes · View notes

airis-paris14 · 4 years

Text

Starlight (T. Udaku)

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who's spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T'Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey y’all. I know I’ve been absent for a little bit again. This story was on the top of my update list and Dress Up is next now that I’ve finished the update. Now I’ve only posted this story on Wattpad, and since the update really only helps them, I thought I get in my weekly update by posting this story from the beginning. I hope you all enjoy as much as my other stories. As always let me know if you wanna be on the tag list. I’ll be posting an account update soon with some news about stories and the Master list. Have a beautiful day guys.

2 ||

Amani watched from the doorway as her baby sister packed up her suitcase. "You know you don't have to watch me pack. I'm a big girl." Amare Okeke looked up smiling. Amani walked over to help her zip the suitcase. "You're barely old enough to fly alone baby girl."

"Amani I'm 17."

"I know. I know. My baby girl is all grown up." Amani pulled Amare into a tight hug. "Maybe I should just keep you here this semester."

"Amani....."

I know, I know. Massachusetts Institute of Technology is paying your tuition, so I guess I gotta put you on that plane."

Amare chuckled. "I think they'd miss me too much if you didn't."

Amani scooped the younger girl into a hug. "Just be safe kid. Don't talk to strangers and no joining the mile high club."

Amare groaned and shuddered. "Okay, it's definitely time for you to go, don't wanna be late for work."

Amani laughed, "Be safe okay. Come back to me in one piece."

"I promise, scouts honor," Amare raised three fingers as she pushed her older sister out of the door. "Just one more hug," Amani begged. Amare shook her head, and shoved the car keys in her sister's hand. "Out," she pointed to the 23-year-old. Amani ran in for one last hug before hopping in her car. She waved three times more before pulling out of the drive and into the city traffic. Her Lexus weaved in and out of traffic as she headed to her day job. The Lotus was more of a pass time than an actual job. It paid a decent amount, and she got to work with her friends.

Twenty minutes later Amani pulled into The Lotus's back parking lot. She gathered all of her things and headed in to help work the closing shift. She scanned her key card and pushed open the heavy security door. The kitchen staff seemed to be winding down from the dinner rush. It was only seven and most of the tables had been served and were waiting to pay. Amani dropped her things in the break room before heading out to help the other waitresses.

" Well look what the cat dragged in." A petite woman teased from behind the bar. "Hello to you too Sakura."

"Hey, Mani! Can you cover this last table for me while I set up for tomorrow?" Madiyson asked as she nodded at a man and a little girl who walked into the restaurant.

"I just got here! What about 'Kura? She's here too."

Sakura glared at Amani from behind her magazine. "It would really mean the world to me if you could do it, Amani..." Madiyson puppy dog eyed her.

"Fine," Amani sighed, fixing her thick curls. They both stared at her arranging her twist out.

"What he is cute!" The black woman blushed grabbing a kid's menu and a menu."He has a daughter." Kura pointed out. Amani walked over to the sink to wash her hands, grabbed the nearest dish towel, and leaned again the counter to check her teeth in the mirror.

"But I don't see a ring," Madiyson pointed out as she grabbed a fresh washcloth. She winked before she hurried away to wipe down tables. Sakura laughed and turned back to her magazine.

Amani hastily checked her reflection once more before walking out onto the main floor. The little girl waved as the woman approached the podium."Hi! Welcome to The Lotus. Just you two tonight?" The man nodded. "If you'll follow me then." The small group walked to a booth. Amani fished into her small apron and took out a notepad. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'll have water," he smiled at the young woman. His voice and that smile practically melted Amani right then and there. The young woman pulled herself together to write down his order.

"Ada did you want anything?" he asked the little girl across the table from him.

"Do you have strawberry lemonade?" She asked in a sweet voice.

"No, but I may have something just as good. If you don't like it I'll bring you something else. How does that sound?"

The little girl grinned and nodded her head.

"I'll let you look over the menu while I get your drinks."

As the waitress walked off she heard the little girl whisper to her father. "Baba she's pretty!" Amani blushed and rushed over to the bar, desperate to hide the growing flush of her face. As she mixed the little girl's drink at the bar Madiyson and Sakura began drying cups beside her.

"So who's the beautiful stranger?" Sakura was the first one to speak nudging Amani on the side. "That's what we're calling him?" Madiyson rolled her eyes. Amani laughed as she felt Madiyson nudge her other shoulder. "He's watching you," she whispered. The sister looked up quickly at the man and his daughter before grabbing napkins and straws.

"His voice, god it's sexy. He has an accent though. It sounds dark and a little controlling, but warm at the same time." Amani hastily revealed as she worked to keep her hands busy. Madiyson grinned "Oooh! You like him!"

Sakura face-palmed as guests looked up at the commotion."Keep your voice down," Amani hissed as she grabbed the drinks. "I just think he's cute. Besides he may not even be single. There's no way I'm that lucky," She blushed as she walked towards the bar exit. "You won't be getting lucky either if Madiyson keeps yelling stuff like that out loud," Sakura grinned as Madiyson slapped her on her shoulder.

Amani shook her head and walked out to the table. She set the drinks down in front of the little girl and her father. The young waitress gestured toward the drink as the little girl took a sip. Her face lit up and she smiled before drinking some more. "I'm guessing you like it," she smiled at the little girl before noticing the father smile at her. Amani's face churned up the color of a bouquet of roses. "Anybody ready to order?" Amani asked taking out her notepad.

"Yes, I'll have the filet mignon with green beans and mashed potatoes." He closed his menu and smiled at her."Rare, Medium Rare, or well done?" The young woman looked up expectantly, instantly regretting meeting his eyes. Her knees went weak."Well done please." He folded his arms on the table.

Amani smiled before looking at the little girl, "what is a Mac and cheese?" Ada asked politely."You've never had Mac and cheese?" The young woman exclaimed feigning shock. "Oh my goodness, it's this really creamy bowl of amazingness. You wanna know what I eat mine with?" The little girl giggled nodding. Amani leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I eat mine with Chicken tenders."

The little girl nodded."Good choice, I'll have mine with chicken tenders too then." The brown woman smiled at the girl before writing it down."Fabulous choice princess," Amani smiled as the little girl giggled before her mouth dropped open. "How'd you know I was a Princess?" The man shook his head at the little girl. She went quiet.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I got her in trouble." Amani apologized.

"No, no she's not in trouble. I am T'Challa and this is my princess Ada." At the mention of her name the little girl grinned. "It's nice to meet you both, Amani." She smiled at them both. "I'll have your food out shortly."

The young waitress walked back to the kitchen, handed her ticket in for her table and wrote for herself for a to-go meal."Find anything else out?" Sakura asked as she walked in handing over a ticket. "His name is T'Challa. And he's got money." The woman looked up. "How'd you find out he had money?"

"He ordered Filet Mignon. How many people in this area order filet mignon?" Amani said as she grabbed the plates from the window. "Besides us, and that's only when Mrs. Ella needs to get rid of it."

"Businessmen mostly, we just never give you the big ballers," Madiyson smirks as she drops off her ticket."Are you serious?" Sakura nodded. Amani rolled her eyes, "I'm feeling the love," she sassed as she headed back into the dining room.

"Aww don't be mad Mani!" Madiyson called as Sakura cackled. The young woman huffed as she carried the food out to her table.

"Baba, I want to go somewhere fun tomorrow!" The little girl insisted as her father laughed. "You did not enjoy the Museum?" His eyes twinkled as she huffed. Amani chuckled silently as she set the plate down in front of Ada. "Maybe your Mac and cheese will make you feel better," Amani suggested as she handed T'Challa his steak. "If you don't mind me asking, what Museum did you go to?" He smiled, clearly glad someone was interested.

"We went to the High Museum of Art," Amani had to stifle her laughter at his reply.

"Princess Ada, how old are you?" Amani asked as the laughter threatened to pour out of her. "Four," The little girl proudly displayed four fingers.

She could hold back no longer. A full-bellied laugh rolled out of her.

"What?" T'Challa protested as Ada began to giggle too. He sighed as he waited for the two females to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, but you took a four-year-old to the High?" She smiled as she tucked the serving tray under her right arm."There was an exhibit of children's illustrators." He defended himself."But baba," The little girl interjected, "we don't live here I've never read any of those books."

Amani smiled. "Maybe you should try the aquarium, it's one of the best in the country. There's also this really big Ferris wheel Princess," the little girl's face lit up as she chewed up her chicken tender."Chew with your mouth closed Ada," her father gently reminded smiling at his daughter.

"I'll let you guys eat and be back soon."

The young woman couldn't keep the goofy smile off of her face as she helped refill salt and pepper shakers as Madiyson refilled condiments. "So is he feeling it? Is there a wedding I should start planning."

"No Madiyson you won't be planning anything." Amani grinned as she put the salt back in the closet. "And I don't know, you don't usually go up to a stranger and say 'Hi, I'm single. Are you single?"

"Well don't ask him like that," Madiyson scoffed as she replaced the top on a ketchup bottle. "I see why you're still single," she laughed. Amani whirled around and threw some salt from the counter at her. "Haha, very funny." Amani looked out the window to see T'Challa raise his hand.

"I'll be right back," the waitress walked over to the table. "We need a check?" T'Challa nodded as Ada finished the last of her Mac and Cheese. "That Mac and cheese treat you right?" Amina smiled as Ada grinned. "Yes ma'am," she replied.

"Baba, can we get ice cream?" Ada begged as Amani gathered the dirty plates. "Not tonight Ada, maybe tomorrow, entle."

"Oh if you go to the aquarium there's a really good ice cream shop downtown." Amani smiled."Then it's settled we'll get ice cream tomorrow Baba," The young princess declared. T'Challa smiled at his daughter. "Your wish is my command princess."

"Cash or credit?" Amani asked as she stood with the dirty plates. "Cash," T'Challa called. His eyes caused the waitress's heart to flutter. She offered an award-winning smile and nodded. "I'll be right back." Amani walked back into the kitchen dumping the dishes into the sink."Girl don't break no dishes," an older woman yelled from the back. "Sorry Mrs. Ella!" Amani grimaced as she began printing a check.

"Find out anything else?" Sakura asked as she began loading the dishwasher. "He's a total pushover for his daughter." Amina smiled placing the check in a black holder.

When she walked out to the table it was completely empty. Save for a note and some bills underneath his glass.

Sorry I could not say goodbye. Here is some money for the check. Ada says goodbye as well and thank you for the Mac and cheese and being so pretty. I would be delighted if you would consider accompanying us tomorrow around the city.

T'Challa

His number scrawled at the bottom of the note sent fireworks straight to her eyes. Amani lifted the glass to find two hundred dollar bills. She smiled fondly before tucking the note in her back pocket. She quickly finished the tab and grabbed her order from the window. She helped the rest of the staff to mop, sweep, stack chairs, clean dishes, put away dishes. As soon as the restaurant was locked up she waved goodbye to Mrs.Ella in the back and proceeded to hop and skip back to her car and speed home. Amani pulled up to her condo in the city her parents had given her before they passed. The young woman pulled off her shoes and walked up to the front steps. She placed her hand on the doorbell and let it scan her finger before opening the door. The off duty waitress placed her food in the microwave and blasted a Kendrick album before plopping onto the couch. She glanced at the clock before pulling out her phone. She quickly typed in T'Challa's number and typed a message.

Amani: Is this T'Challa? It's Amani, from The Lotus.

T'Challa: yes this is T'Challa. I'm so glad you texted me. I'm sorry to bother you but Ada would not stop talking about you. She would really like it if you could join us tomorrow.

Amani: just Ada?

T'Challa: We would both enjoy your company tomorrow.

Amani: Then I'd be delighted. What time?

T'Challa: 9:30 a.m. we do not wish to hold the masses back for long periods of time. We will pick you up.

The woman typed a quick goodnight. She made a point to text her little sister before grabbing her food and settling down with the music. The ping of her phone startled her. Licking her fingers she checked the clock and headed into the kitchen to grab her phone.

Amare: don't forget you promised to attend that after-party tonight. With mom and dad's work partners.

"Frick," Amani yelped hopping off of the couch. She was beyond late. She grabbed her phone and ran into her bedroom. A gown was hanging over her closet door. She grinned, knowing that Amare had left it there before she left. She took a quick shower, tried to refresh her hair, threw on some light makeup, and pulled on the dress. Texting a quick thank you to her sister, she searched for the invite email once again and decided her car would be faster than an Uber. Luckily the venue was downtown. Amani drove as fast as the floor-length gown and heels would let her. She skidded into the valet drive-in, tossed the young man her keys, took a deep breath, and glided her way into the lobby.

Once in the elevator she touched up her makeup, fluffed the braided twist out bun, and sighed. The doors dinged open and she glided into the ballroom. Immediately she was surrounded by her parent's former employees. She smiled, shook hands, took some press pictures, made a couple of statements to reporters, before taking refuge in the corner. The part-time waitress grabbed a flute of champagne to sip as she perused. One of her dad's partners smiled and moved in her direction. Mentally preparing for the longest conversation of her life, Amani took a long gulp of champagne. "Long time no see!" Harold Armon smiled. "Hello Mr. Armon," Amani rolled her shoulders back and plastered on a smile.

"How are you, dear girl? How is your little sister? Amira?" He reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Amare," the older sister corrected. "Right, right!" Harold beamed, squeezing the young woman's shoulder. Amani shrugged his hand off. "She's fine. She left this morning to finish off her second semester at MIT."

"That's brilliant, she always was bright like your father. Is she thinking about running the company when she comes of age?" he pried. Amani frowned, "No. Our parents always wanted us to choose our own route in life. She decided that she didn't want to run the business."

"That is too bad. I could have been a great help. You all could have relied on me to take over the business. Then you wouldn't have to worry your pretty little head about all the men's work-" Amani zoned out as the man tried to persuade her to appoint him to a top position. She already knew his game. These conversations were why she hated coming to the parties.

When her parents had died unexpectedly, Amani and Amare had been thrown into the world of office politics. As soon as the plane crashed in that Pennsylvania field, her phone was flooded with calls. Her father's lawyers advised her not to talk to anyone until she and Amare were together. They brought, the then 15-year-old, Amare out of school and down to Atlanta. Within a matter of hours, Amani had to decide who would take over the company in her parent's absence. She promoted her father's CFO, and her mother's assistant. She made sure that she put money away for her and Amare to live on. Then she handed the company over, operationally at least. She and Amare were still obligated to show their faces, and be present at board meetings. They weren't required to vote, but when they did, their word was law. Hence the groveling, and somewhat misogynistic, man standing in front of her.

She nodded along, taking to chance to glance at her side, where she saw T'Challa. His suit immaculately pressed and tailored. A ring flashed on his left hand and Amani felt her heart drop slightly. She blushed when he looked up and noticed her staring, she waved before tuning back into Harold.

"Brookman's first-quarter report does not look like it will be that promising. I think that if I were in that position I would avoid this merger with Wakanda and their king-" The man faltered, and tripped over his words. His eyes going wide at something behind her. Turning to look Amani saw T'Challa walking towards them. She returned his smile when he moved to greet her. "Amani."

"T'Challa-"

"Your highness." Harold quickly dropped into a stiff bow. "There's no need for that. Mr.-" T'Challa laughed.

"Armon" Harold stuck out a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Armon," T'Challa placed his hands behind his back, forcing his posture upright. Harold brought his own hand back into his side. "Do you mind if I borrow your conversation partner?"

"Oh well, we were-"

"I will make sure you get to see her before the night is over," T'Challa gripped Amani's hand and pulled her away. She gave Mr.Bowdman a quick goodbye before falling into step with T'Challa. "Thank you," Amani laughed while strolling with the man.

"I can always sense a damsel in distress."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. It's my superpower," the businessman whispered. Amani chuckled as she wrapped her arm through his. "Though I am surprised to see my waitress here. At the Okeke Tech Industries donor party."

"Are you suggesting that I cannot contribute based on my meager salary?"

T'Challa raised his hands in defeat, "I am merely suggesting that there is something you are not telling me, Amani." The undiscovered royal laughed.

"I believe that Ms.Okeke would be more formal T'Challa."

"Ah, you are the mysterious, and rumored to be beautiful, Okeke heiress.

"I wonder which of those intrigues you more. Beautiful or mysterious?" she teased.

"I quite prefer mysteries. Your beauty is just a bonus." The two smiled at each other. "It is nice to formally meet you, Ms. Okeke."

"What are you doing here?" Amani asked, grabbing a flute of champagne from the passing waiter. "I am here to check on my future assets. Make sure everything runs right."

"You're the one buying my parent's company?"

T'Challa winked, grabbing the flute of champagne from Amani and taking a sip. The woman blushed as he handed it back. "I was never told who the buyer was," Amani added, taking another sip from the same place on the glass. "His Majesty King T'Challa Udaku, at your service Ms. Okeke," the king bowed to kiss her hand. Amani choked a little, as the news slammed into her. "King?"

"Yes, please do try to keep up Ms.Okeke," The king chuckled while he grabbed a flute of champagne for himself. He extended his arm once more for the heiress and they continued to stroll about the room, eventually ending up on the balcony. They sat next to each other on a stone bench, each admiring the night sky. "You look beautiful tonight," T'Challa turned, staring at Amani's profile. "I've always been told starlight is my best light," Amani teased, blushing once her eyes met T'Challa's. She grabbed the king's cup and took a long drink.

The sounds of the party wrapping up brought both of them out of their isolated dream world. "May I walk you to your car?" T'Challa extended a hand to help Amani up and off of the bench. "If you would like," Amani smiled. The two walked side-by-side, bypassing anyone who wanted their attention. "Are we still on for tomorrow?" Amani broke the silence.

"Of course. I await our reunion with earnest."

"I guess I should text you my address then."

"I guess you should."

Amani pulled out her phone and quickly sent a text with her information. Placing her phone back in her purse, she looked up at the king. The valet pulled up with her car and she let her smile falter. "I guess I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll see you in the morning, Ms. Okeke." T'Challa smiled, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. She got into the car and sighed as it pulled away from the curb.

Taglist: @sarahboseman @waitingonafriend-blog @thiccdaddy-mbaku @sarcastic-sunshines @ororowrites @derangedcupcake @mzbritt @leahnicole1219 @dramaqueeenamby @marvelheaux @skysynclair19 @halfrican-heat @kaciidubs @queertrex @kumkaniudaku @purple-apricots @autumn242 @thedelightfulone @90sinspiredgirl @royallyprincesslilly @wikiwakanda a @chaneajoyyy @sisterwifeudaku @sarahboseman @tchoking @sarcastic-sunshines @almostpurelysmut

#black panther #tchalla #tchalla imagine #tchalla fanfiction #tchalla x reader #tchalla x oc #tchalla x you #blackpantherimagines #apbpfics #starlightfic

46 notes · View notes

spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 10

Chapter: 10/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: "I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

If it all falls down, falls down, falls down

I can warm a crowd, I can make them shout

I can juggle verbs, adverbs, and nouns

I can make them dance 'til they all fall down

Janus woke up exhausted, which really wasn't fair considering the amount that he'd been sleeping lately.

Someone was stroking his hair, which was nice. Probably Remus. Remus wouldn't care that Janus' hair was stiff with dried sweat and that he hadn't brushed his teeth in who even knew how many days.

He shifted and nuzzled Remus' thigh.

Realization dawned slowly. Remus' nails were longer than this, Remus didn't smell like this, Remus had never sat still like this.

Janus couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed at the mix-up. He was too tired and sore to really care who was petting his hair like this.

Except that it was probably Patton.

Subconsciously, Janus pulled the teddy bear closer to his chest. It had to be subconscious, because he would never cuddle a stuffed toy on purpose.

Janus opened his eyes.

Patton withdrew his hand like he'd been burned. "I'm sorry," he said, cheeks coloring. "Did I wake you up?"

Janus shook his head. His skin still tingled where Patton had touched him and he wanted it back so badly , but he didn't know how to ask.

"Remus made me promise I'd go get him next time you woke up. Well. Logan made me promise. Remus threatened me. Anyway!" Patton was already halfway to the door.

He was gone before Janus found his voice. "Don't go," Janus whispered to the air.

A moment later, Remus came barreling in with Logan in hot pursuit. Then came Virgil, then Patton again, and finally Roman.

Logan lunged forward to try to catch the back of Remus' shirt, but he was just a split second too late. Janus braced for impact, but Remus only fell on his knees by the bedside and pulled Janus into a tight hug.

"Awww," Patton cooed from the doorway.

"I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"

Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

Remus pulled back and made a lewd hand gesture. "Scout's honor?"

Janus manipulated Remus' fingers into the correct position and held his own hand up as well. "Scout's honor."

Remus nodded in apparent satisfaction, so Janus grabbed his shoulder and used it to haul himself upright. Virgil and Patton fidgeted by his desk while Roman leaned against the doorway and Logan hovered behind Remus.

"Well," Janus said, trying to sound better than he felt. "As you can see, I've died. Virgil will handle my estate, so please direct your concerns to him."

"Like I want all your pretentious steampunk crap," Virgil mumbled, looking around at the leather and brass and hardwood.

"It's art deco," Janus and Logan said at the same time, albeit with very different intonation.

Janus squinted at Logan, who seemed to take this as his cue to speak. "You need to eat something."

"Like a dick!" Remus crowed.

Janus sighed, expecting an uproar, but nothing more dramatic than general collective eye-rolling and awkward throat-clearing occurred in response.

Logan carried on, "Something light like chicken broth or dry toast." He cocked an eyebrow, indicating that this was a question.

"Goodness, however shall I choose," Janus said, trying and failing to keep the venom out of his voice. He did better on stage than he did under a microscope, yet here everyone was, studying him. It was all he could do not to squirm.

Patton's voice echoed in his ears suddenly:

He never asks for anything, he just talks around it until you figure it out on your own.

"Could you…" Janus balled both hands into fists. "I want…" He squeezed his eyes shut and expelled a breath through his nose."I just love that you're all in here staring at me. It's not awkward at all. " He fixed his gaze on the ceiling, only just managing to hold back a frustrated curse. Another failure. Another reason for the others to go back to hating him.

"Oh, gosh!" Patton said, but he didn't sound hurt or angry. "We're sorry; it's probably overwhelming to have us all in here at once, huh?"

Janus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The feeling had grown uncomfortably familiar as of late.

"We'll let Logan look you over," Patton said. He shuffled out of the room after Roman, waving for Virgil to follow him.

Remus winked and wiggled his tongue at Janus. "Have fun playing doctor." He bounded out and shut the door behind him.

"So," Janus said, fidgeting with one of the teddy bear's ears. "He and Roman can stand to be in the same room as each other now?"

"It helps that they were both quite worried about you," Logan said. A pause. "As was I." He preoccupied himself clearing off a space on Janus' nightstand, willing a plate of dry toast into existence, then methodically taking the cap off a bottle of Gatorade and inserting a white bendy straw.

"Plastic straws are killing the sea turtles, you know," Janus said.

Logan looked at him, puzzled. "Rest assured, this one will not and indeed, cannot find its way into the water supply." A moment later he said, "Oh. You were making a joke."

"It's polite to laugh."

"Please excuse my rudeness, then."

Janus smiled. "I think Remus likes you," he said to cut the tension.

Logan tilted his head at the nightstand. "Why?"

Janus took the hint and began pulling the crust off a piece of toast. "I just have a feeling."

"Hm." Logan thinned his lips, but did not press the issue.

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

"What happened? When I was…"

"Incapacitated?"

"Sure."

Logan pushed up his glasses. "You were in a state of delirium for approximately five days. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Clearly? I had a conversation with Patton about… certain choices I had made in regards to Roman." Logan raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. "It gets hazy after that. You and Patton were in my room, I think. And… I'm not totally sure this happened, but I seem to recall trying to apologize to Roman."

Logan nodded. "You did. Then you fainted in his room, and the ensuing chaos actually led to the temporary resolution of several interpersonal conflicts we had been experiencing."

"Just according to plan," Janus said, steepling his fingers. Logan didn't laugh. "Another joke."

"Please eat your toast."

"Alright, alright." Janus finished picking the crust off one slice and took a hesitant bite.

"Good." Logan nodded in approval. "To further answer your question, Remus has enacted a truce with Patton, Roman, and Virgil. Which essentially means that he agreed to 'tone down' his more distracting behaviors and the others would refrain from, ah…" Logan checked his note cards. "'Getting their strawberry-flavored edible panties in a twist'."

Janus nearly choked on his toast and made a hasty grab for the Gatorade. "How sweet."

"Yes, the sugar content of Blue Cherry Gatorade is regrettably rather high-- Oh. Yes, I suppose it was rather nice of everyone. Virgil also ceased his self-isolation for the sake of seeing you and talked a little about his feelings, as did Roman."

"Hmph." Janus shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk. It had been his goal to fix everything, but not quite like this. Not at all like this, actually. He had become another piece on the chessboard, and not even a powerful piece like the queen. No, he was more like a bishop, moving laterally to move forward. And now he had no idea how to get what he wanted.

"Interestingly," Logan said. "I believe it was your involuntary display of vulnerability that led the others to treat each other more gently.

"I get it, I'm the hero," Janus said sourly. Hooray, he'd solved Patton's problems by running around like an idiot. How impressive.

"I was… I was trying to make you feel better."

Janus smiled despite himself. "Thank you. Really."

"Something is bothering you," Logan said. "I can't tell what it is. I had thought you might feel embarrassed, but you are handling matters very calmly, despite the fact that you have a tendency to raise your voice and lash out when agitated or threatened. This leads me to believe you are experiencing a different negative emotion, but I cannot identify what it is or why." Logan paused and cleared his throat, his eyes downcast. "This bothers me because you are my friend."

"I couldn't possibly be tired," Janus snapped, realizing a split second later he'd inadvertently proven Logan's point. "Oh."

Janus sighed and flicked over his metaphorical king, albeit in his own way. "I'm not thinking about all the ways a relationship with Patton could go horribly wrong."

"But you have a relationship with Patton--" Logan's eyes widened. "I see. Are you concerned that your feelings are unrequited?"

"Well, that and the opposite."

"I don't follow."

"Virgil told me that if I break Patton's heart, he'll break me . Literally."

"You're afraid of Virgil ?"

Janus ran his fingers over his temple and took in a breath while he waited for Logan to put the pieces together.

"You're afraid you'll hurt Patton."

"I'm not exactly known for my communication skills."

"Have you tried speaking sincerely instead of hiding your intentions with sarcasm?"

"No , the thought has never crossed my mind."

Logan smiled. "It was a joke."

Janus didn't hiss at him.

Logan continued, "I do think you should try to be honest with Patton."

"Easier said than done."

"But it can be done."

"I'll...think about it." Janus waved a hand to dismiss the topic.

#spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: if it all falls down - jimmy buffett

1 note · View note

verobatto · 5 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XXXV

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Headache

(8x14/8x15/8x16)

Hello my friends! This is a new meta from my Destiel Chronicles! This one is very important, we won't have Cas but we will have a lot of foreshadow for the crypt scene and one interesting Destiel mirror.

I want to say thank you to @agusvedder , she made the gifs for this meta and discussed with me the episodes. Love ya girl!

Okay, stop the cháchara. Let's start this...

Blue for headache

Episode 8x14 Trial and Error we had a very happy Dean having a place where he felt he belonged. He had his room, and he decorated it, he showed it to his brother, proudly.

But it also talks about one of his characteristics, the BIG PROTECTOR heritage from his father, and it shows when they traveled to find Kevin in bad shape, barely sleeping and eating.

So, the Big Protector button is pressed again... Dean went to buy some food, and medicaments.

And, just pay attention to this scene...

Blue for headache... Blue is Cas, right? And Cas is with some brainwashed issue right now... Some headache... So is interesting how Dabb related the Destiel color coded to the pills... And then the green one, (Dean color) for pep, energy. That's Dean the one that will break that headache.

Another important point to remark is this piece of dialogue... Remember they were trying to figure out who in this family (named CASSITY... really Dabb?) Had made a deal with Crowley. Because they needed one hellhound for the tests. One man died first, and he was married with a lady... And this is what the lady says when Sam asked her how was she feeling... And she said this...

SAM You okay, Mrs. Cassity?

ALICE Fine.

SAM You sure?

ALICE I really am. And... I know I shouldn't be because I loved Carl... I think. I just can't remember why.

Okay, she lost her memory, like Cas in the crypt, hitting Dean so hard... He forgot for a moment he loved Dean. This is a foreshadow for the crypt scene.

I don't want anybody else

Ellen was singing this alone in her room, the song loud, and she was drinking because the Hellhound will come for her... So... Is a very famous song... I just want you to pay attention because this song is connected with something I will point later...

I love myself, I want you to love me

When I feel down, I want you above me

I search myself, I want you to find me

I forget myself, I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else

When I think about you, I touch myself

Ooh, I don't want anybody else

Oh no, oh no, oh no

You're the one who makes me come runnin'

You're the sun who makes me shine

When you're around, I'm always laughin'

I want to make you mine

I close my eyes and see you before me

Think I would die if you were to ignore me

A fool could see just how much I adore you

I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you

Okay, ready? The woman is singing she doesn't want anybody else... Okay? And Ellen is screaming the song and the song is TOO LOUD.

Why?

Because Dean will enter the scene, and Ellen will flirt with him, she wants to have sex with Dean, and Dean rejects her. He-rejects-a sexy woman.

He will give excuses... But the song there is marking us the subtext. Because she is not Cas. And Dean found out he is in love with Castiel recently. So DEAN DOESN'T WANT ANYBODY ELSE.

I love subtext... Yum.

Another profound bond

Episode 8x15 Friends with Benefits talked about James, a cop that became a witch, he had this Dog/Woman Portia, a famili and he shared a profound bond with her.

The thing is, James was changing, he was having headaches and loosing memories... (Again the headache and memory, Castiel mirror).

The mirror was so blatant, that I decided to put here some points in common.

James was acting odd, and his weird behavior was pushing away Portia. And Portia was worried about him, just like Dean is for Castiel's strange behavior.

But let's talk about the interesting things Portia said about her bond with James...

This is amazing, because since Dean met Castiel, they had their fights and one break up, but they always found the way to be together again.

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. YOU."

The unusual relationship between an angel and a human, something forbidden, to fall in love. Is quoted in Portia's words.

The UNBREAKABLE BOND, is a blatant recall to THE PROFOUND BOND Dean and Cas share. The melding souls, romantic and intimate.

The foreshadow for the crypt scene

Okay, now I'm gonna need you to pay attention to these gifs above, it talks about James and Portia dynamic and it was a huge foreshadow for the incoming crypt scene.

First of all, remember Portia (Dean mirror) was loyal to James (Cas mirror), and she wanted to stay with him till the end, but James pushed her away with his words and physically...

Now, the first one is talking about how CAS will run away from Dean with the angel tablet because he needed to protect it from everyone, and to protect Dean from it too.

The second is a slight mirror of Castiel hitting Dean in the crypt... Look at Portia face, full of pain.

Now... Let's jump to the scene in which James realizes he was being manipulated...

Remember Castiel killing a thousands of Dean? This is a mirror of Naomi's manipulation over Cas.

"You make me think I was a killer."

"You make me kill my friend a thousands of times."

Now... And you are gonna scream with this one, as I did...

When the manipulation was cut... James approached Portia and...

James coped Portia's face!!!!! Like Cas will do to heal Dean in the crypt scene!!! And why they did this?

Because James and Portia are in love, and this is a very intimate and sweet gesture OF LOVE, ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS to his lover (!!!!).

And is THE SAME CONTEXT WITH CAS AND DEAN.

Why Cas coped Dean's face if he could heal him even without touching him??? He WANTED TO TOUCH DEAN LIKE THIS. BECAUSE IT WAS A SWEET GESTURE OF LOVE, ASKING FOR DEAN'S FORGIVENESS!!!!

Because they're in love, people. Period.

Thank you James and Portia.

Let's move on...

Where are you, man?

Episode 8x16 Remember the Titans, we saw another man loosing his memories, another head issues problems...

But the most important from this episode is Dean praying to Castiel...

DEAN Cas, you got your ears on? Listen, you know I am not one for praying, 'cause in my book it's... it's the same as begging.

Okay, let's stop right here... Really Dean? So... When you were praying to him EVERY NIGHT in Purgatory, you were BEGGING HIM TO COME BACK??!!!!!! Okay... Not romantic at all... (Somebody shoot me in the head!!!)

DEAN But this is about Sam, so I need you to hear me. We are going into this deal blind... and I don't know what's ahead or what it's gonna bring for Sam. Now, he's covering pretty good, but I know that he is hurting, and this one was supposed to be on me. So, for all that we've been through, I'm asking you... (he's very earnestly praying) ...

This broke my heart right here...

He's worried, and hurt, and he wants his friend, an angel, to take care of Sam... But not just that... You could say... He's just praying to let him know, to ask him for protection. To protect Sam... But not just that... Isn't just because he's worried about his little brother... Because then... He did this...

He wanted to see him. DEAN WANTED TO SEE CAS. HE NEEDED HIM IN THAT MOMENT. He was feeling sad because Sam was making those dangerous tests... But he wanted to see Castiel. He missed him.

It wasn't just a pray, a beg, it was Dean Winchester trying to see Cas again.

Where are you, man? I need you here, with me, I'm desperate. And I want to see you. Where are you?

To Conclude:

These three episodes were a prologue to the crypt scene.

We had people with head issues, and a huge Destiel mirror.

It also showed us Dean does want anybody else than Cas and he wasn't just praying for Sammy's protection, but because he wanted to see Cas again.

I hope you like this meta, see you in the next Chronicles!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @justmeand-myinsight @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20

If you want to be tagged, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas from s8, here are the links...

Vol. XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV

Buenos Aires, October 29th 2019 10:19 PM

#destiel #destiel meta #destiel chronicles #supernatural meta #season 8 meta #season 8 #vil. xxxv

111 notes · View notes

snarky-badger · 5 years

Note

Hey Snarky. I know you're busy unpacking and your askbox is technically closed. But I'm in dire need of fluff. I watched Keeanu Reeves get drunk, answer questions, and play with puppies and awwwwed the entire time. Could Shepard do this to Garrus? Garrus playing with many many puppies while buzzed.

Well, I don’t usually write Shakarian (because I’m afraid I’m not that good at them), but for you, yeah, I’ll give it a shot. This is after the Destroy Ending, Shepard’s alive and mostly well, if still recovering. It… didn’t turn out like what I originally came up with - it mutated while I was writing. But the mental images are fun! XD

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shepard sighed and checked her Omni for the fifth time in as many minutes before shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her left leg - or rather, the stump of her leg just below her knee - ached. The prosthetic, while state of the art, was still new enough that it caused her some pain from time to time. And standing there, waiting for a late Garrus, wasn’t helping.

Already, the muscles in her shoulders and neck were tightening, her heartbeat rising a little. Things since the Citadel - where she’d been buried under tons of rubble - had been a little touch and go. It had taken her months to recover after being found half-alive amongst the carnage, her body broken, spirit exhausted, but not extinguished.

Cerberus’ tech in her body had saved her, kept her alive though trauma that would have killed anyone else. More cybernetics had been added to her form as she’d recovered, pins and plates reconstructing her shattered bones enough for them to heal.

She’d never had made it though the painful rehab had it not been for Garrus. Even after the destruction of the Relay, he’d never given up hope of finding her again. Had practically reconstructed the downed Normandy himself in a near-frightening, tunnel-visioned, desperation to make his way back to her. It awed and shocked and stunned her, every time she thought about it.

Another glance at her Omni Tool made her left eyebrow twitch. She loved Garrus, but if he didn’t show up in the next five minutes, she might strangle him.

She hated being late.

Sighing, she leaned heavily on the cane that had been provided to her while she got used to her new leg, index finger tapping against the handle as her keen gaze cut across her surroundings.

You could take the soldier out of the battlefield, but the instinct to identify potential threats, scope out exits and cover for any firefights wasn’t something that just went away - no matter how much of the Citadel had crashed down onto her.

Finally, finally, she spotted a familiar form amongst the crowd, her gaze locking onto the scarred Turian in civilian clothing that was sauntering towards her.

Oh, lords, he was strutting a little too.

Someone save her, Garrus was drunk.

It wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who didn’t know him, but his gait, the slight tilt to his head, the smirk of his good mandible - dammit, he’d gone drinking without her!

She was somewhere between irritated and mildly jealous when he reached her, the low rumble of his subvocals lightly slurred, blue eyes a little glazed.

“I know, I know. I’m late–”

Shepard huffed, blowing a strand of her overlong red hair out of her eyes. “You went drinking without me.”

Garrus blinked, then spent a moment looking anywhere but at her, raising his right hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Ah. Uh, a little? Chellick - you remember him right? He’s… well, I suppose you can say he’s getting married. Found his bondmate and everything! Never thought he had it in him. Joker used to think I had a stick up my ass but Chellick–” He glanced at her, saw the look on her face, and coughed a little. “Right. Well, I went to say congratulations and then some of the old squad wanted to treat him to a drink and… yeah. But I’m alright, really! We can go see the large hamsters now.”

It took an inordinate amount of willpower not to facepalm. “Puppies. Dogs. Not hamsters, Garrus.”

“Wrex said they’re furry, wimpy, varren.”

“Wrex would.” Even though she was still a little miffed, Shepard accepted the arm that Garrus held out to her, linking her arm through his. He easily shifted his stance to help support her, which was good, because standing around waiting for him had caused the muscles in her bad leg to cramp a little. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re a friendly drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” Garrus huffed, trying for affronted and failing, settling for a grumbling growl of his subvocals. “I’m not as think as you drunk I am. Wait. Wait, that didn’t sound right.“

She heaved a sigh that she usually only made when dealing with the Council. “Just… let me do the talking.”

It was, as it turned out, good that she did the talking. Whatever the hell that Garrus had imbibed must have been strong, because even his ability to ‘fake’ sober seemed to be cracking at the edges. It didn’t help that a drunk Garrus was also a slightly handsy Garrus. Normally she’d be all for her Turian purring things to her while nipping at the shell of her ear, but this was just not the time.

The quest to adopt a dog - by the suggestion of both her therapist and rehab specialist - was off to a rocky start. Personally, Shepard did miss having a pet, and she’d always loved dogs, but she’d never thought she’d be interviewing to adopt one with a touchy feely Turian attached to her hip.

Still, they managed to get to the Adoption Centre with little trouble - minus a couple of elbows to Garrus’ ribs to get his wandering hands off her ass.

She planted him in the nearest chair, then hobbled over to reception. The Asari there didn’t pay her much mind until the receptionist looked up, and Shepard had a grand view of the usual shock and awe that most people got on their faces when they recognized her.

Ugh. She doubted she’d ever get used to receiving that look.

Still, it did expedite things. She and Garrus were quickly led to a small private room to wait while some of the staff went to fetch a few of the dogs that the resident behaviorist thought would be a good match for them.

Garrus was weaving a little in his chair while Shepard filled out a few necessary forms on her Omni - did she have a veterinarian picked out, did she have previous experience raising dogs, etc, etc, etc. Spirits, some of the questions were more in-depth than some of her Spectre applications.

Finally, she send the forms off with a soft chime of her Omni tool, then poked Garrus with her cane when he shuffled his chair closer to hers and leaned in to rest his chin on the top of her head. “If I sit on the floor, I’ll need your help to get back up again.”

“I can do that,” he rumbled, the vibrations of his voice echoing into her, the familiar sensation making her smile despite herself. Garrus’ right arm slid around her waist, tucking her close, and Shepard automatically leaned into him, letting his presence ease her nerves and calm her.

She was just relocating his hand from her ass back to a safer spot on her hip when the Asari came back in carrying a large basket. The sounds of whimpers and soft barks perked Shepard’s interest, and she carefully eased herself down off her chair to the floor, grimacing a bit when her left hip twinged.

Garrus landed next to her with a graceless thump, his gaze locked on the basket, the curious subvocal rumble that left him vibrating her bones. Who knew that whimpering puppies sounded like to a Turian?

“So, I thought I’d start with some puppies. These are a mix of German Shepard and Labrador Retriever. Both breeds are known to be very affectionate, intelligent and obedient with the proper training, which I doubt would be an issue for you two.”

“How old are they?” Shepard asked as the Asari - her name tag read Jaelta - knelt and set the basket down. Six rolly polly puppies instantly scrambled to climb over the edge, bright eyes and perked ears obviously taking in everything around them.

“These are six and a half weeks old. We’ll keep them for another two weeks just so they finish weaning and grow a little more. So if you decide to adopt one of these little ones, you’ll have time to accessorize your home.”

The sextant of puppies - one of whom decided to front flip it’s way out of the basket and land on it’s head with a yelp - instantly swarmed her, and Shepard couldn’t stop the laugh that left her as they climbed over her legs and into her lap, wriggling and yipping for attention. She pet as many as she could manage, feeling some painlessly knaw at her fingers while others crawled high to lick at her chin.

“I still say they look like large hamsters,” Garrus quipped, and Shepard rolled her eyes at him as she scooped up a puppy and then deposited it in the Turian’s lap.

He reared back a bit like she’d thrown a live grenade onto him, mandibles clamping tight to his face in apprehension. The puppy sniffed at him, probably the first Turian it had ever met, little tail waggling it’s entire little body. It’s final happy bark seemed to be an invitation for the rest of the pack, because Shepard found herself abandoned as they others piled themselves onto an unsuspecting Garrus.

“Uh, Shep– What do I-? Ow! Hey! Don’t chew that!” He reached down to disengage a puppy from his left spur, blinking into brown doggy eyes as he picked up the pup to stare at it. The puppy wriggled happily in his grasp, barking, little paws churning the air as it tried to get closer.

The biggest of the bunch gave up trying to climb him, and merely launched itself into the Turian’s stomach. Garrus’ eyes widened as he went down with a started ‘oof’, landing on his back and warbling in shock when the other dogs swarmed him.

Puppies: 1. Garrus: 0.

Grinning, Shepard took a quick picture with her Omni Tool. The universe’s King of Bottle Shooters and Reaper Advisor to the Primarch, taken out by a pack of puppies. No one would ever believe it.

“I think we’ll take that one,” she grinned to Jaelta, nodding at the puppy who had headbutted the Turian in the gut and was now perched on the edge of Garrus’ cowl, licking at his mandibles, despite the sniper’s attempts to twist away from excited, wriggling, happy, puppy kisses.

Garrus flailed, trying to be gentle as he pushed one puppy away just for two more to wriggle into the firsts’ spot. There was one attached to his left spur again, hanging on with determination while the Turian’s legs spasmed on the floor. Another was chewing a hole through his glove, using his tough plates to teethe on. “Shepard, help, Sniper down! Ack! Pfft! Ew! It’s tongue was in my mouth! Ah! They’re so fuzzy! Geditoff–!” Her Omni Tool glitched at what followed.

She’d have to send a copy of the image to Tali or the Quarian would never forgive her.

#snarky is writing #shakarian #garrus vakarian #femshep #commander shepard #filled asks

57 notes · View notes

mind-reader1 · 6 years

Text

Queen of Hearts (Ch.13)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: Some cursing

Note: Thanks for the love everyone! Please Enjoy! If you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know! Got some good drama in this chapter, and maybe something else ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

Word Count: 2187

Summary: Drake and Liam exchange some harsh words, can they come to an understanding? Olivia offers some unsolicited advice, and Kiara is back and all over Drake.

Chapter 13: Elastic Heart - Sia

And another one bites the dust But why can I not conquer love? And I might've got to be with one Why not fight this war without weapons? And I want it and I wanted it bad But there were so many red flags Now another one bites the dust And let's be clear, I trust no one

You did not break me I'm still fighting for peace

Well I've got thick skin and an elastic heart But your blade it might be too sharp I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard But I may snap when I move close But you won't see me fall apart 'Cause I've got an elastic heart I've got an elastic heart Yeah, I've got an elastic heart

Drake stepped in front of Liam and he frowned at his friend.

“Drake. Please move. I need to speak to you and Lady Emma.” Liam stepped to the side and so did Drake.

“No. We need to talk Liam. Let her have a break tonight.” Liam continued to scowl but let everyone else walk ahead into the manor.

“I've been giving her a break this entire trip.” Drake shook his head in disbelief.

“You really haven't Liam. You've been on her case about every little thing and you shouldn't be!”

“Really? I can't believe you two! Sneaking off today in public, to fuck?! Could you imagine the consequences if someone else had heard you two rather than us! I have gone over this with Lady Emma, but nothing seems to get through. Don't think I don't know about you sneaking into her room every night! What is it going to take? Or are you both determined to make this fail so you can get past your jealousy!” Drake was seeing red, he couldn't believe his best friend was saying this to him.

I gave her the ring, I followed her after your engagement photos. It was my idea to sneak off today. All these things you're getting mad at her for were my idea so fucking lay off Liam! It seems like she's been doing everything on this tour. She recruited Madeleine and her family when you were nowhere to be found. The polo game was her idea, today she rallied the people at the press conference and asked the kids to play. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I've had enough.” Liam sighed and ran a hand through his hair starting to cry. Drake was so caught off guard he didn't know what to do.

“I'm sorry, Drake. Ever since the ball it's been one thing after another. I have to stay calm for everyone else, it gets bottled up and I just explode on those I care about. I've been seeing a therapist to help me, but I'm still working through it.” Liam dragged his hand down his face, the tears having stopped. Drake had never seen his best friend like this. Sure, in college he had been in a bad place after an assassination attempt, but he was like a ticking time bomb, you never knew what was going to set him off now.

“I don't like this charade any more than you do, watching you masquerade around for the cameras with the woman I love is torture. The only reason I'm still here, that we didn't run off is because we believe in you Liam, we're here to support you. We were all at the homecoming ball; I got shot Liam! I know it seems like we don't care about making this work, but I have nightmares. Every night I see Emma get shot and I can't save her, I wake up paralyzed, then I see her, and I know it's not real. It's the only way I can get any kind of sleep.” Both of them finally put it out there in the open, they used to talk about things all the time, now they just couldn't. Liam had no one to talk to, his best friend and the woman he loved were together, can't exactly talk to them about Emma. Hana and Maxwell were good friends to him, but they were Emma's best friends, he couldn't talk to them either.

“Maybe this will be beneficial for you then.” Liam held a small white card out to him with a name and phone number on it, a therapist. Again, Emma's words echoed in his head, Drake hated the idea of spilling his guts to a stranger, but maybe it was time to consider it. He took the card without a word, a newfound tense silence hanging between them.

“We used to talk all the time, Liam, I know that this is weird. You should try to find someone you can talk to if it's not me. I'm sorry, I really am. You'll always be my best friend though.” Drake clapped him on the shoulder once and walked away without looking back.

Drake's words weighed heavily on Liam, they had talked all the time, but ever since that night in New York there had been a distance between them...well more like a person. He couldn't blame Emma though, it wasn't her fault that they had both fallen in love with her, and it wasn't like she had a choice falling in love with Drake. Nevertheless, it made him impossible to talk to. He found himself aimlessly wandering through the grounds outside the manor.

“Liam, what are you doing out here so late?” He turned to find Olivia strolling towards him.

“Lady Olivia... trouble sleeping is all. What brings you out here?” she looked away, it was the first time Liam had ever seen her so unsure.

“I overheard some of your argument with Drake…” Liam sighed, nothing seemed to go as planned anymore. Emma had mentioned that they should tell Olivia, there was no hiding it now.

“I suppose I should explain.” Liam led Olivia to a nearby bench. He turned to face her and looked down, fumbling with his hands.

“It's all a lie isn't it?” Liam nodded and didn't meet her gaze.

“You have to understand Olivia, I love her, I thought she loved me. I may be the one who gets to 'be with’ her in public, but I'm not the one who gets to hold her when she's scared, sneak out of parties with.”

“This arrangement is ridiculous Liam!” Liam ran a hand over his face and explained to her, why he had to do it, why it had to be Emma.

“Regardless Liam, your people need you to start acting like a king and not some lovesick fool pining over his best friend’s girl. This isn't some stupid movie, this is real life.” Liam's lips twitched into a small smile, Olivia could always be counted on for tough love. She surprised him by reaching out and grabbing his hands, squeezing.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you Liam, and what you're doing could be an amazing thing if you pull yourself together.”

Drake shuffled towards Emma's room where he thought she would be waiting for him. He knocked softly, but got no answer, he checked the hall before quickly opening the door and slipping inside. He walked over to the bed and saw she was already fast asleep, still in her clothes like she had been waiting up for him. He brushed a stray hair out of her face and kissed her forehead gently. She mumbled something incoherent and lifted her head, squinting.

“Drake?” He smiled and bent down so he was eye level with her.

“I didn't mean to wake you, go back to bed.”

“Stay with me.” She mumbled laying her head back down already. Drake wasn't going to argue with her. He changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed beside her, she didn't even seem to notice.

Early the next morning Drake was up before Emma. He tiptoed to the bathroom and was grateful he had done so, as he heard her bedroom door swinging open just seconds later.

“Madeleine!” He could hear Emma's surprised voice.

“Why aren't you up? The train leaves in an hour.”

“We just got here yesterday, we're already leaving?”

“Yes, everything's calmed down. We're going to Kiara's duchy. Have you been practicing your French?” Drake rolled his eyes, listening to her.

“Absolutely, in all my free time I learned a new language.” He could hear the sarcasm dripping out of her voice and held back a snicker.

“I suspected as much. I printed you out a sheet with important words on it. Look it over on the train.” he heard the door slam again.

“Drake?” Emma whispered. He emerged from the bathroom and she let out a sigh of relief.

“You really need to start locking your door Barnes.” She raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms.

“Oh yeah? How do you plan on getting in every night then?”

“You could lock the door after I sneak in.” Emma playfully rolled her eyes.

“I guess you'll find out tonight Walker. Now get out of here, I've got a train to catch in an hour!” Within minutes of boarding the train she was in the boutique with Madeleine and Maxwell. Instead of a ridiculously thick binder about the family, Madeleine handed Emma a stack note cards. Emma just gave Madeleine a look, they both knew she wasn't going to read them. She resolved to giving them a quick breakdown. Hakim, Kiara's father was a well-known Cordonian diplomat and a Duke, apparently, he was important in Cordonia. Her mother, Joelle, is a famous artist. Her older brother remained a mystery as he was never really seen outside of the duchy. Madeleine outdid herself with the dress, it was a halter with black sequins on the top half and a black mesh with large black flowers for the knees down. She added an owl arm band as an embellishment, and nod to their house crest. It was stunning, as always. While visiting they would all be attending an international art and food festival, the goal was to be enthusiastic about the events in the hopes of gaining the family's support. That was all they had time for as the train began to slow. Emma stepped out of the motorcade and Drake wandered over, his eyes lazily roaming up and down her body.

“That dress is...I mean… You look beautiful Barnes.” Emma smiled faintly as Drake stumbled over his words.

“You cleaned up?” Emma's question came out harsher than she intended. Kiara was a tense subject between them since she was still pining after Drake. He cautiously slipped his hand in hers and squeezed, letting go before anyone could see them. He wore his nice blue suit and dark green shirt underneath it, a small patch on the shoulder from where he had been shot the night of the homecoming ball.

“You look good Drake.”

“It's less…international than I expected.” Drake mused. He was right. There were no country flags, no signs in different languages, no borrowed concepts from other cultures.

“Just wait.” Olivia said, as Kiara came down the steps, a young man in tow.

“King Liam, Lady Emma, I am so glad you're visiting our home.” they both nodded respectfully as Liam said something in French.

“Drake! You look... I…that suit looks very nice on you.” It had already started. Emma who had grabbed Liam's arms for appearances, dug her nails into his skin as she grit her teeth and smiled. Liam carefully placed his hand over hers trying to pry her fingers off inconspicuously.

“Thanks.” Drake said flatly, avoiding Kiara's gaze. It wasn't difficult to pick up on the tension, but Madeleine, Kiara and the young man weren't sure why it was there.

“We heard you were injured at the homecoming ball. How are you now? Are you doing okay?”

“Oui, it was a terrifying night. I am healed after spending some time here at home.” Her smile faltered, she was still reeling from the attack like the others.

“Shall I introduce myself or were you planning on getting to that?” The young man beside her stepped up.

“Of course. This is my brother Ezekiel. These are my friends King Liam and Lady Emma, Lady Olivia, Lady Hana, Lord Maxwell and Drake.” Her eyes lingered on Drake a bit too long, it would be a long stop on the tour.

“I'm so glad to finally meet you all, Kiki has told me so many stories.”

“Oh? What did she have to say?” Emma asked out of curiosity.

“She mentioned King Liam's generosity, Lady Emma's resilience. She also said there would be a scary one, a pretty one who's good at everything, a party animal and a really sexy one named Drake.” Emma had to remind herself to stay neutral, force a smile even, everyone was waiting for the explosion as they snuck glances between Emma and Drake. Emma turned to sneak her own glance at Drake, who was bright red and looking anywhere but Emma or Kiara.

“Zeke! Well I think that's enough greetings. Come, let's get you inside.” Kiara cleared her throat and kept her face down until the color had mostly disappeared from her cheeks. Just as they began to make their way inside, Penelope came up with her poodles. Kiara and Penelope hugged as Zeke fawned over her poodles. Liam pulled Emma aside just before they entered the doors, she was worried this would be a lecture about keeping her cool around Kiara and Drake, but it wasn't. Constantine was getting worse and was supposed to be at the festival, but couldn't due to his illness, it was clearly bothering Liam.

“I'm sorry Liam.” Emma squeezed his arm and he gave her a small smile.

“I need all the help I can get redirecting questions.”

“We'll figure it out Liam, don't worry.”

Tag List: @notoriouscs @leelee10898@princesstopgun @choicesyouplayandmore@sleepwalkingelite @roonarific@indigo39 @skyila@speedyoperarascalparty @andy-loves-corgis@furiousherringoperatortoad@blackwidow2721 @drakewalkerfics@findingdrake @sue9659 @smritysriv@tmarie82 @larryssunflower

37 notes · View notes