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ladyfogg · 3 years

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First Date

Fic Summary: The time has come for you and Colin to finally have your first official date. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: M

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language & some making out/suggestive language

Last week when you flirted with Colin and followed him to his hotel room, it had been a quick, spontaneous decision. While it hadn’t worked out quite how you wanted it to, you got your chance a few days later when he slept over at your place.

You didn’t expect to spend the following day in bed with him, nor did you expect to feel so goddamn horny for the man the second he left. Even the quickie in your car wasn’t enough. You want more of Detective Colin Zabel and it’s driving you crazy.

You’ve never wanted someone this bad before. But your stomach is a jumble of nerves for an entirely different reason. Because tonight, you and Colin are having your first official date and you have no idea how to act.

Dating is new territory for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship and even then it wasn’t serious. When Colin asked you to join him for dinner at his friend’s restaurant, you said yes before you could overthink. Of course, now that means your anxiety has been building.

The case Colin and Mare are working has kept them busy over the last few days so you haven’t been able to spend much time with your…friend? You don’t know what to call him. Boyfriend sounds too formal. Lover is a weird word that never settles quite right. Potential romantic partner? Booty call? Really close friend?

See, this is why you never date. It gets too confusing and messy.

At least, that’s how you used to feel. Now, you’re not so sure. Because every time Colin catches your eye and smiles at you, those old thoughts aren’t as loud as they used to be.

You keep telling yourself to relax and go with the flow, but it’s easier said than done. Which is why you find yourself running around your room trying to find something to wear.

Currently, most of your clothes are piled up on your bed. Digging through them, you reject everything you see, almost to the point of tears. It’s not until you sit yourself down and take a few deep breaths that you realize just how nervous you are.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself. “It’s Colin. You know him. You like him. And he likes you. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met and he’s not going to care what you wear as long as you have a great time.”

Bullshit. Dress to impress. Knock him dead. Take the beath out of him.

After several long minutes of internal debate, you manage to find something relatively dressy that fits and looks good on you. Shoving all your clothes back in the closet, you try to make your room mostly presentable on the off chance you and Colin end up back there after dinner. You’d like to assume you will but are trying not to put any pressure on him or yourself.

You just finish getting ready when there’s a knock on the door. Checking yourself over in the mirror one last time, you take a deep breath, before going to greet Colin.

Dear GOD, he looks amazing. While Colin tends to dress very well for work, it’s different seeing him in a suit jacket and tie.

“You look beautiful,” he says, eyes taking you in with appreciation. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup. Just lead the way.”

Colin offers you his arm in an endearingly formal way and you can help but accept, letting him lead you to his car. The sweet man even opens the door for you. With a quiet word of thanks, you climb in, your heart fluttering with nervous energy.

As he drives away, you sense the nervous tension between you two.

“So…” Colin says. “I know I suggested my friend’s restaurant but if you’d rather go somewhere else that’s good too.”

“No, no, your friend’s place is fine.”

Colin nods, flipping on the radio to help fill the awkward silence. You don’t know what to do with your hands and find yourself fidgeting with your coat, seatbelt, purse, and whatever you can.

“How was your afternoon?” Colin asks. “You were gone by the time we got back from canvasing…”

“It was fine. Made some coffee runs and filed a bunch of stuff.”

“Cool...”

More silence. As Colin pulls into a parking space at the restaurant, you feel the need to clear the air.

“I’m sorry I’m not very good company tonight,” you say. “The truth is, I’m really nervous.”

Colin smiles and puts the car in park. “Honestly, me too.”

You both laugh, partly from relief and partly by amusement. “Look, I don’t have any expectations,” Colin continues. “I asked you out because I really like you and I’ve never connected with someone like I’ve connected with you.”

“We have connected very well,” you tease.

Colin’s cheeks turn red and he ducks his head as he tries to hide his smile. “I meant emotionally but yeah, physically too.”

“I also meant emotionally,” you say. “Mostly.”

He laughs and looks at you again. “I’m really happy to hear you say that. Glad it’s not all in my head.”

Hearing the self-deprecation in his voice, you slide your hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss. He responds instantly, melting into your touch and kissing back with equal intensity. When he draws back, his eyes are hooded.

“It’s not all in your head,” you assure him. “There is something here. Why wouldn’t I feel something for you? You’re smart, considerate, fucking adorable as hell…” He smiles and blushes harder. “You’re a great guy, Colin.”

He kisses you gently one more time. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I do,” you tease. “Now can we go eat?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling lighter and less nervous, the two of you get out of the car. Colin takes your hand as he meets you on your side of the car. Heading inside, you can’t help but focus on the feeling of his hand in yours. It was solid and warm, just like the rest of him.

You’re seated right away and Colin let’s your hand go so he can hold your chair our for you. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, the low lighting set the right mood. Colin looks even more dashing than he did on your front porch.

The waiter takes your drink orders and you pick up your menu, trying to figure out what to have. Colin does the same.

“This is a nice place,” you comment, glancing around. “I’m not used to going out like this.”

“Stick with me and I’ll take you to all the nice places.”

“What? The backseat of my car isn’t nice enough?”

His ears turn red this time and he chuckles. “I didn’t say that. It has its merits.”

The waiter arrives with your drinks and takes your orders, before leaving once more.

“So, Detective Colin Zabel,” you say, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s a big shot like you doing in a place like Easttown?”

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I’m no big shot,” he says shaking his head. “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” you realize. “Talking about that big case.”

“Can we not talk about that case?” he asks. “I’m not…I’d rather talk about something else.”

“No problem. Sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s okay. What about you? I never asked what it was like for you starting out. You know, after the academy.”

He seems relieved that you are willing drop the subject and as the conversation starts to flow, both of you get more comfortable. Wanting to take his mind off things, you decide to tell him about your more memorable moments as a young trainee.

“Oh, and THEN! Then Mare arrives right as I’m trying to detain this guy,” you say, hands moving wildly as you talk. “And she just gives me that stern, unamused look that she always has…”

“Yup, I know that look.”

“And when I finally get him into the back of the car she goes, ‘Hey, kid, I think you’re forgetting something’.”

“Oh god, no…”

“Yeah, the guy’s dog. He came tearing out of the house and I chased me around the car while Mare just fucking laughed.”

Colin throws his head back and laughs, a sight that makes your own grin widen. You’ve never seen him so jovial, well without alcohol, and you vow to think of more stories that’ll make him laugh that hard.

“Didn’t you go there because of the reports of his dog being loud and aggressive?”

“Sure did. Then promptly forgot when I noticed the stolen merchandise from the theft. Needless to say, I got a little too excited and, whelp, got chased by the dog.”

Colin is still laughing, shaking his head while he does. “Wow. Just…just wow.”

“I am so glad you enjoyed my embarrassment.”

“I absolutely did.”

His face is bright and you want to reach across the table and kiss him.

You wonder why you were even nervous to begin with. Once the food arrives, Colin lifts his wine in a toast. You follow his lead with your drink and you both smile as you clink glasses.

“Any particular plans after dinner?” you ask as you both start to eat.

Colin shakes his head. “Not in particular. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a soft bed that’s been missing you.”

His pupils dilate and you see his breathing pick up. “I…yeah, that sounds great. I kind of hoped you’d say that but I didn’t want to assume anything.”

Under the table, you run the tip of your shoe up the back of his calf and he jumps in surprise, almost dropping his fork. You smirk as he gets flustered.

“You have my complete permission to assume all you’d like,” you say in a low voice.

The evening takes on a very different energy after that. Heated looks are exchanged as you both eat as quickly as you can while still being polite.

“Are we thinking dessert?” the waiters asks when he gathers your empty plates.

You shoot Colin a raised eyebrow.

“I think just the check will be fine,” Colin says.

The drive back to your place is different than the drive to the restaurant had been. Colin’s hand rests on your knee, and just the pressure of it is enough to get your body going.

He barely puts the car in park before you reach for him, yanking him into a searing kiss. Colin is just as eager, hands fumbling to turn off the car before he can get them on you.

“We should go inside,” he pants between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You stop just long enough to get out of the car. Coming around to the front, you both meet in the middle, Colin cupping your cheek while snaking his arm around your waist. God the way his mouth slots over yours is just so perfect.

The ringing of his cellphone cuts through the quiet night.

You groan in frustration. “Noooooo.,” you whine.

Colin huffs in annoyance, pulling back. “I’m so sorry,” he says taking the phone out of his pocket. “Shit, it’s Mare. I should take this.”

Sighing but understanding, you motion for him to go ahead.

Colin answers the phone. “Zabel, here. Yeah, hey, Mare…”

You know work has interrupted your date and you probably won’t be getting to the best part anytime soon. Colin’s face is somber as he listens to his partner.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says, giving you an apologetic look. “Bye.”

He hangs up.

“Duty calls?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “She wants me to meet her in an hour. There’s a club we need to check out.”

“An hour, huh?” you ask, lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah. It’s across town so it’s going to take me a—what are you doing?”

You push him so his back bumps into the hood of the car. “You have plenty of time to get there. I want to at least make out a little.”

Colin gives you that lopsided smile before pulling you into another heated kiss. You slide your arms around his neck as his go around your waist, crushing you against his chest. It’s filled with promises and silent wants. Neither of you wants him to go, both of you would love to go inside and pick up where you left off the other day.

But work is work, and you won’t make him feel guilty for doing his job.

Your tongue finds his, deepening the kiss as your fingers dig into the collar of his coat. Colin draws back just enough for his nose to brush yours as he lays several pecks on your lips.

“If I’m not done too late, can I come back?” he asks, voice filled with hope.

“You better.”

His smile widens and he gives you one final, sweeping kiss before gently pushing you back so he’s not pressed against the car.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Colin watches you walk up to your door but doesn’t get into his car until you’re safely inside. You wave to him from the door, hoping he’ll come back sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you are going to find the sexiest underwear you own and wait.

---

Series Taglist: @lejardinfleur @spidergirlmcu @anonymushhy @samsassinparvismagna @kitwalker64 @tatestripedsweater @xmaximoffic @marshmallow--3 @stellarbound @kais-messiahbaby @margaretboothsear @slightlyvicked @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary @liandav @billyhxrgrove @TheOriginalDoll87

#colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you #evan peters #love exists

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gotnofucks · 4 years

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Parts of Whole

(No images are mine, but I did edit them. If anyone knows the owners, do let me know so I can credit them)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Sam x Steve (platonic)

Summary: Steve would see his OTP’s ship sail, even from across the grave.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death (nothing graphic and not very sad), language, angst + fluff

A/N: I saw the trailer for tfatws and I just had to write this. This is also my entry for the amazingly talented @sagechanoafterdark and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork challenge (pic prompts above). Thank you for hosting this and being wonderful. The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics . Huge thanks to @the-inquisitive-hobbit for beta reading and giving me her very valuable insight.

It never felt right in his hands. It was his to wield, his to claim, and yet it never felt more foreign. The concentric red and white circles with the star embedded in the blue center glared back at him from the mirror. It had been months, but Sam had never taken this shield with him to any mission. He couldn’t.

It felt starkly cold in his hands, lifeless and materialistic. It was Steve’s symbol of strength and hope. It used to hang on his back, warmed by his body heat. Now, it seemed like the shield only existed to remind him of Steve’s absence. This shield was made for Steve. It belonged to him, it always would. How could he ever stand where he stood? How could Sam ever be the captain that Steve was, take this shield that held more power than a crown on a head?

He put it down again, covering it with a cloth before shutting the door on it, leaning heavily against it. He missed him, he missed him like a throbbing wound that refused to heal. If only he could see the sun shining on those golden locks again, have those baby blue eyes smile at him again. What wouldn’t he give for that.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a heavy hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sam didn’t open his eyes, just let the weight of it anchor him, let it bring him back from the chaos that was his mind. The cold metal hand felt like a relief against the overwhelming burden of grief that penetrated his being whenever he touched the circular shield.

“I miss him too.” Bucky said, and Sam opened his eyes. Bucky’s eyes were blue too, slightly grey where Steve’s were green. He could see himself reflected in them and he straightened, looking away, hiding his weakness.

This mantle of Steve Rogers that he was supposed to assume, this legacy he was supposed to take forward felt like cheating. His friend, his mentor, his brother was no more. How could people just expect him to move on? But they did. It didn’t matter he was emotionally compromised, it didn’t matter he wanted to drown, like Steve nearly had at the Potomac all those years ago. The world didn’t wait to create one disaster after another. They needed Captain America then, and they needed him now. Like Fury said, trouble always sticks around.

Sam cleared his throat, making sure he was collected before looking at Bucky again.

“Everything loaded in the Quinjet?” He asked and Bucky nodded. They’ll be leaving for another mission soon, and Sam was glad he’ll have the sounds of battle to drown the war in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky said once Sam started leaving. “Take it.”

Sam looked at Bucky over his shoulder, his gaze equal parts pain and accusation. Of everyone, Bucky shouldn’t be the one telling him this.

“I’ll meet you in the jet.” He said firmly and quickly marched to his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated coming back to the compound, the lingering memories of their fallen warriors whispering in his ears every time he was here. He preferred his little house in the woods where it was only Bucky and nature with him.

He took out his tactical gear, laying it on the bed and getting out his wings when he heard it.

“You are punishing yourself Sam.” Came his voice.

It was this moment where Sam broke, sliding down the wall and letting a few tears escape. He was gone but he never left him.

“How could you have been so selfish Steve. Why?” He asked, looking up to glare at Steve. Even dead he looked so handsome, so put together with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look like the old man they had buried a month after the battle. No. He was their Steve, their young, beautiful Steve who left them behind.

Sam didn’t know why he saw him. He didn’t know if this was a ghost or a creation of his mind. To him, it was Steve. It was Steve and it was a beautiful suffering to see him again every time he reappeared.

“I am sorry.” Steve said and knelt before Sam, looking apologetic. Sam didn’t try touching him. Not when the first hundred times his hand just went through him.

“You are? What for?” Sam asked. “For leaving behind your shield and title, for leaving me behind, or for abandoning a best friend you promised to walk till the end of the line with? What are you really sorry for Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer, he never did. He let Sam take out his hurt and anger, and Sam cried. In the privacy of his walls, he cried. He was so tired of pretending to be strong, to be happy. He hid behind his jokes and smiles, fooled the world which was so ready to move on while Sam was buried somewhere with Steve in the cemetery, half dead, half alive.

“I am sorry Sam, for everything.” Steve insisted. “But you need to stop punishing yourself for mistakes you never made. You can’t live this way.”

Sam snorted a laugh for even in death Steve was a humanitarian bastard. He didn’t come back to haunt his enemies; oh no the centenarian came back to help his friends. Why didn’t people see that he could never be Steve? That Sam Wilson can never, won’t ever be the Captain that Steven Rogers was.

“I hate you so much Steve, I really do.” Sam whispered, wiping his nose and getting up. Steve watched him getting changed, no barriers of shame between them from that side of the grave.

“You always said that. I have never heard a ‘I love you’ more pronounced than I do in your hate.” Steve commented with a soft smile, it widened when Sam gave him a half-hearted glare. It was amazing how they could go from having a painful conversation to joking, but that was how it worked with Steve. He knew Sam, he knew everything that made him laugh and made him smile.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a tea party with Gandhi or some other do-gooder like you in the afterlife?” Sam grumbled, tightening the belt in his suit and attaching his wings to it. Steve chuckled, sitting on the chair and watching Sam with a relaxed smile.

“They are too uptight for me. Mother Teresa tried to adopt me the other day” Steve said, and Sam laughed. His wings were the colours of American Flag, a new change. He grabbed his weapons and fixed Steve with a look, hating and loving him for being so him.

“I’ll see you after the mission?” He asked tentatively. He would never admit it, but he feared one day Steve would disappear again. It was crazy, it was not normal to see dead people, but Sam would rather have a shadow of Steve than just a memory.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me Sam. Always.” Steve said, a sad smile on his face when he saw Sam leaving without the shield.

Sharon greeted him in the jet, talking to Bucky and the other agents over the blueprint spread before them. Sam nodded his hello, snatching the half empty pack of Cheetos from Bucky’s hand and munching on it.

“So now you want to steal the show and my food. You’re such a dick Wilson.” Bucky said, poking Sam in his shoulder and Sam poked his tongue out at him, a gap-toothed smile on his face. Their previous somber interaction would not be mentioned, filed again like so many inside the neglected corner of their minds.

“Bitch, I paid for grocery this month. This is technically mine.” Sam replied, making Bucky scowl. Sam knew there was a 70-30 chance he’ll find his bed crawling with centipedes when they got back home.

“Charming, boys.” Sharon remarked rolling her eye. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? Must be nice to have a holiday.”

Bucky shrugged, sharing a look with Sam. It was their first Christmas without Steve, a 6 feet 2-inch void always between them.

“Nothing special. Stay home, watch movies, eat a lot.” Bucky said. A lot remained unsaid, but they rarely needed words to communicate anymore. Sam bumped his shoulder in his, offering him some Cheetos to munch while he silently grieved.

“Well, I’ll leave my address here for you to deliver your presents to me.” Sharon joked and Sam laughed softly, mentally making a note to get her something.

“Alright then, and I’ll just casually remark that my phone and laptop are both in serious need for an upgrade. Just saying.” Sam said. “Hey Buck, what are you going to gift me?”

Bucky crumpled the empty chips packet before sending Sam an amused glare, flipping him off.

“A ball gag, so that I can hear something other than your stupid voice.” He snarked.

“Damn dude, at least ask me out for dinner before getting kinky.” Sam winked and Bucky swelled with indignation, pointing an accusing metal finger at Sam.

“I cook dinner 3 times a week you bastard, and I don’t even burn it!” He protested making Sam laugh louder than ever. He loved making Bucky mad, teasing him into an incensed rage that usually ended in a pillow fight or sometimes with Sam’s head in a headlock.

They straightened as they saw the incredulous looks on the new agents’ faces, baby agents as Bucky liked to call them. It was times like these, when both the battle-hardened veterans missed their lost teammates, the inside jokes that were shot around with as much precision as bullets and arrows on the battlefield.

They got to work again, discussing the mission and its details with the other agents. Sam would run point on scaling the territory and fly down to the enemy base with two agents while Bucky would guide him from up here and take out potential threats. They just needed to secure a technological innovation and it didn’t seem too like much work. As Sam poured over the briefing, his eyes subconsciously went over to Bucky who was fiddling with the equipment, making sure everything was in working condition.

If someone had told him a few years ago that Bucky would become his anchor, his solace in his darkest hours, Sam would have punched them in the face. But as it happened, they came to lean on each other, the only unchanged part of their older lives, the only person who made each feel that were still real, still alive. They were still annoyed by each other, but the arguments were more of a routine than an actual expression of resentment.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone deliberately coughed behind him.

“He is so pretty, isn’t he?” Steve asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Bucky Barnes was a beauty, from his blue grey eyes to the new golden streaks running through his new arm. Sam tried not to notice the way Bucky’s armor clung to his muscles, his face looking almost boyish as he forgot the world and focused on his task.

“I thought you said I’ll see you after the mission.” Sam muttered, taking care that no one noticed him talking to air. He hurriedly looked away from Bucky when their eyes met, a heat rising in his cheeks that made Steve chuckle.

“I said I’ll be there when you need me. And it seems like you do.” Steve commented. He took the seat next to Sam, so near that Sam swore he could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam snapped, the smug look on Steve’s face making him wish he could touch him if only to be able to punch him. Stupid blonde best friends with perfect teeth and beautiful smiles and an ass that looked just as round after being dead.

“Oh, I think you do.” Steve said, shifting his gaze to Bucky. “I liked his hair longer but the shorter is going well with the new arm. Don’t you think?”

Despite himself Sam found himself nodding, admiring Bucky as he’d done a thousand times before. He liked his longer hair too, but without them falling in his face, he could see him better. And the arm. The new arm that gave Sam tingles in the most delicious ways, it had him flustered for three whole weeks after Bucky first showed up with it on him.

He didn’t know when it started, but Bucky had somehow become the most beautiful person to Sam. From the way he would make him the perfect mug of coffee to their little kitchen garden they started to keep themselves busy, he loved everything about him. Those moments where he would sense the turmoil inside Sam and silently slip his hands in Sam’s to assure him that he was there, these little moments endeared him even more.

Sam had lost count of how many times Bucky and he had woken up on the couch, sharing a blanket, both silently afraid to sleep alone. He had forgotten how many times he had spent kneeling at Bucky’s bedside, coaxing him out from a nightmare. Every moment spent in each other’s company, laughing, joking, mourning together, it brought them together in a way Sam had never imagined before.

“Tell him” Steve said, a wistful look on his face as he looked at his best friend. “He feels the same. I know.”

Sam shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Bucky with reluctance. He’d already lost so much, he wouldn’t lose Bucky too. Not because he has a minor, very minor teensy tiny crush on him.

“Man, shut the hell up.” He snapped.

“Who’re you talking to?” Bucky called out from across the jet and Sam’s head snapped up, mouth parting a little before he mumbled out a ‘no one’ and focused on the papers in his hand. Sometimes he felt guilty for keeping Steve a secret, for keeping Bucky away from his best friend. He knew Bucky cried into his pillow at nights, he knew because he’d held him then, tried his best to fill the cracks that appeared in the walls of Bucky’s heart as well as his own.

But then, Steve chose to come to him. Chose to talk to Sam. And he was afraid that telling anyone would disturb this magic, whatever this was. That he would once again have to bury Steve. So, he kept quiet. He buried this secret in the deep recesses of his mind, the initial worry of insanity long forgotten in favor of seeing his friend again.

“Do you even have a plan?” Bucky questioned, watching him prepare for the jump. Sam had a job for every agent accompanying him, but the idiot had not outlined anything for himself.

“I do.” Sam said, and when Bucky looked unconvinced, he lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re my plan, my backup. I scream, jump down and get my ass back up.”

Saying this, Sam jumped, the exasperated look on Bucky’s face imprinted behind his eyelids as his wings flared out and he floated.

Everything that could have gone wrong on this mission did, and Bucky was hysterical even before Sam’s call for backup came. He was going to kick Nick Fury’s ass, but before that he was going to bring his friend back in one-piece and chew him out for giving him a heart attack.

Sam’s wings took most of the weight of the fall, so he came back with a sprained ankle and bruises. Bucky was getting increasingly irritated when they came back home, their little secluded spot in the woods welcoming them with the smell of pine and wild grass.

“It’s not my fault Fury gave us shitty intel.” Sam groaned, “You can stop being salty now.”

Bucky remained quiet, the silent treatment going for almost the third day in row and Sam was at his wits end. It was stupid and ridiculous because Bucky almost always pulled the stupidest moves in the field, like stopping a bomb with his hand or listening to the villain’s evil monologue.

Steve was grinning as he leaned against the edge of the table, and with every suggestive wink he gave Sam, the new Captain America resisted the urge to throw a vase at him.

“He cares so much that he’s speechless.” Steve commented and Sam flipped him off. Dickhead has been giving running commentary of the thick tension in the air since they came back, and Sam was on the verge of calling for an exorcism.

“Why do you do that?” Bucky asked suddenly and Sam was so glad to hear him talk again it took him a while to understand the question.

“What?”

“This thing, looking somewhere and talking to yourself, or – I don’t know, you keep being weird.”

“You’re the one with the cyborg brain and arm and I’m weird” Sam tried deflecting. Bucky frowned, coming closer to sit near Sam, leaving abandoned Christmas decorations scattered around them. Clint had delivered it for them but neither had the heart to put them up.

“Sam.” Bucky deadpanned, and Sam sighed, resting his head back and avoiding eye contact. He looked at Steve who was still smiling, his beautiful face like a slap on the face and caress on the head at the same time.

It was more difficult than one would assume to explain. Why did Sam see Steve, and why did only Sam see Steve? Was it a hallucination, or his spirit? Would Steve go away if Sam confided in Bucky? Would Bucky be mad he didn’t tell him? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and yet as Sam looked into Bucky’s eyes, shining like sapphires, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Its…Its Steve.” He said, looking down and playing with the soft lint on his blanket. He didn’t hear Bucky say anything but moments later a metal hand gripped his, stopping its nervous movements.

“Steve?”

Sam gulped, the coolness of Bucky’s hand in his warming his heart, swelling it with hope and an emotion Sam was too afraid to acknowledge.

“Steve, he – he talks to me.” Sam confessed and tentatively looked at Bucky whose eyes were brimming with emotion. He expected him to call him crazy, or to get mad, but what he did not expect was Bucky to shift closer and take Sam’s other hand in his too.

“He talks to me as well.” Bucky said. Sam was breathless, both by the slight smell of cinnamon that came from Bucky and the way Bucky came even closer, close enough that he could count the flecks in his eyes.

“He does?” Sam asked and Bucky nodded.

“I don’t know how he does it with you, but whenever I need him, miss him, I feel him speak to me from here.” With this Bucky placed one of Sam’s hand on his chest, the beating heart under thumping strongly. Unconsciously, Sam’s hand caressed Bucky’s chest, mapped its muscles and the jagged scars that bulged under his left shoulder.

“I see him.” Sam admitted, unable to look away from Bucky. “I can see him”

Tears blurred his vision until they dropped on his cheeks, sliding down, and forging a river down, leaving a trail of hurt, betrayal, and loss in their wake. Bucky’s hand came up to wipe them away, staying on Sam’s cheek, playing with the soft hair on his chin.

“I see him too. In you.” Bucky said and they didn’t know who moved first, but their foreheads were touching and then their lips met in a chaste, hesitant kiss. Sam melted into his touch, molding himself to fall into Bucky’s larger frame, his arms circling his waist and pulling him closer. They kissed as if they had walked a hundred miles just to kiss each other, as if they had saved every last breath just to live this moment.

“I – I, Buck –” Sam began but Bucky shushed him, pulling him into another soul-searching kiss before pulling away.

“I know.” He murmured.

As Sam relaxed in Bucky’s warm embrace, lost himself in the blues of Bucky’s eyes, he noticed Steve from the corner of his eyes. There was sadness on his face, the pain of a goodbye in the creases around his eyes. But when he smiled, he smiled with genuine love and happiness. The two parts of his soul he’d left behind seemed to have found themselves, and with them Steve felt himself complete.

“Till the end of the line pals.” He whispered.

Sam never saw Steve again.

Their Christmas was not very festive in terms of decoration. There was still too much pain, too much suffering in their hearts. Steve and Nat’s pictures beamed at them from the walls, and Sam sent Pepper the confirmation that they’ll come over for New Years.

It was a beautiful thing about human nature, about how one rises from the ashes to become stronger. Sam and Bucky lost someone, but they found each other. In the shared grieve of their hearts, they discovered the love long buried in there, eagerly waiting to be spread and shared.

They stayed warm under the blanket, wearing oversized sweaters that they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing outside. The sweaters may or may not have been Steve's; the soldiers mutually decided to hold Steve close in this way. Sam’s heart was tripled in size, as his head rested in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon melting together to make a little world of their own. Sam wondered if he would mind growing out his hair again.

“So, what did you get me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t mind if Bucky did get him that ball gag. Part of him almost hoping for it.

“How rude Wilson, here I’ve given you all of myself and you still thirst for more.” Bucky mocked and Sam tackled him into a hug, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bitch, you’re lucky I lo-” Sam cut himself off, suddenly shy. The smirk on Bucky’s face melted into a smile, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Say it” Bucky ordered. And Sam did. The Captain obeyed his Sergeant without hesitation.

“I love you. I love you so freaking much! I got us the cheesiest gifts.” Sam said in excitement. He pulled away long enough to grab his gift from under the bed, giving it to Bucky to open. He watched with his bottom lip between his teeth as Bucky opened the box to pull out two chains, each dangling with a rectangular pendant.

Dog tags.

Their dog tags. Bucky raised his eyes to Sam’s, fisting his hand in Sam’s t-shirt to pull him closer into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, hips grinding as passion merged with love and emotion.

“I love you!” Bucky growled and kissed Sam again. “And I got you chocolates that look like dicks. I didn’t know this would happen between us when I bought them, and I was going to give you a hint with them.”

Sam’s laughter echoed around their small house, the dopey smile on his face remaining intact as they ate candy and burnt sparklers into the night. In the colourful light that played on their faces, they held hands together, filling the void that was there with the warmth of each other.

“We can use the shield as a sleigh until you’re comfortable using it as a weapon.” Bucky mused and Sam smiled into his neck, thinking of a certain blond asshole who may have gone away, but will never be lost.

Permanent Taglist: @what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel @muralskins @rayofdawnworld @donutloverxo @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @angrythingstarlight @rockyrogers @slothspaghettiwrites @nerdygirl8203

CE & Steve : @littlegasps @bluemusickid @harrysthiccthighss @abeyyaaar @slytherinandoutasgard @empath-bunny

SebStan & Bucky : @sebastiansthot @its-izzys @harrysthiccthighss @empath-bunny

For this fic : @barnesandco

#ssholidaychallenge #sambucky #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam x steve #tfatws #fluff

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7 - Of testing the waters, special snowflakes and weirdly long showers

series masterlist

tags: @weasleysbees ; @gloryekaterina ; @thatguppienamedbae ; @sagittarius-flowerchild; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke ; @izzyyy-1

if you’d like to be added/removed, send a DM or an ask

warnings: probably swearing, mentions of food and eating, allusion to masturbation (which you can choose to interpret differently) word count: 2902

If you have any feedback, please let me know!

—————⑦—————

You walked out of the shower still lightheaded, but also weirdly ecstatic.

There were a few girls in the bathroom now, you reckoned it must’ve been past curfew if people were starting to get ready for bed. Walking up the spiralled steps to your room, you had half a mind to poke your head into the common room, as if some force was pulling you there. You felt as if you were absolutely out of your mind, you didn’t trust your brain. You also had felt this need to see George, even just briefly, as if you missed him already. You managed to pull yourself together, though.

You stepped into your room to Angelina, Alicia and Katie already there. You overthought what kind of greeting to use and instead said nothing, moving onto your evening routine.

“What’s up with you, weirdo?” Angelina asked endearingly with a slight chuckle, studying your figure. “What do you mean?” you asked back, trying to sound casual, hiding your face while you pretended to look for something in your dresser. “You look… tense,” Alicia quipped, giving the other girls a look. “Tense? Naah, I’m chill,” you turned to them and waved your hand around wildly. “Clearly,” Angelina agreed, nodding her head. “How was detention?”

You froze while pulling your bed covers back to slip into them.

Admitting you were in love with George to yourself was relatively easy, you knew it once you felt it. That was it. Sure, it was weird and new, but you’d have time to come to terms with it. Admitting to the girls, however – that was something else. For years you denied having any feelings for George, and whenever any of them suggested you two getting together in the future, you mocked them. You couldn’t just admit to them now that they were right in the end.

“We, uh- scrubbed cauldrons,” you replied. “Uh-huh, and how was scrubbing cauldrons with George?” Katie questioned with a glint in her eye. They were onto something, but you wouldn’t give in.

“Extremely boring and uneventful,” you answered, sticking out your tongue to them, then disappeared underneath your blanket.

Falling asleep that night proved easier than you thought. You had been worried that all the excitement and your heart running wild would keep you up for long, but soon after the girls stopped chatting you drifted away. Images of George in your mind kept a dorky smile on your face, as you hugged the stuffed panda he got you all those years ago tight.

—————⑦—————

Next morning you woke up with a jolt. You freshened up and subconsciously put in a bit more effort into your appearance – you felt good. Your thoughts were still mostly monothematic. You decided to give yourself some time to figure out your feelings before telling anyone, or worse – acting on them. But that didn’t mean you weren’t excited to see George, after what felt like an eternity.

You buttoned up your school cardigan, wondering if he’d be at breakfast. Fred and he had first period free on a few days of the week, including Tuesday, thanks to the small number of classes they took, so you couldn’t be sure.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him at the table, though, focused on his breakfast.

“Morning,” you greeted cheerfully, slipping into the seat next to him. You hopped over the bench graciously even though you had a skirt on, as others greeted you back. “You’re in a good mood, take it you slept off well?” George pointed out, his voice still a bit sleepy, and took a bite out of his toast.

You picked out some food and poured yourself some tea with a smile, thinking back to what good sleep you had and what kind of dreams it brought you.

“Slept off?” “You said you were really tired last night, you left dinner first and I didn’t see you later in the common room,” he noted. “Ahh,” you agreed, taking a sip of your tea. So you would’ve found him in the common room, you though. “Yeah, had a good sleep. You?” “Mmm, so-so,” he replied, gesturing with his hand. “Fred and I worked on the Fever Fudge until pretty late.” “You could’ve slept a bit longer, when do you start classes..?” You queried, hoping for a certain answer in the back of your mind. “Yeah, but we have no classes together until afternoon, I’d have only seen you at lunch before that,” he explained, stuffing his mouth casually, “you walked off so suddenly I wanted to know you were alright.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too wide.

—————⑦—————

Multiple times you had to scold yourself in Alchemy, for not focusing on your work. Your mind was running wild and you reached a conclusion. There was no going back, the dice have been rolled, alea iacta est.

It would be foolish of you to dive straight in, you thought. But since the two of you had already been so close, now you somehow felt this way, could George be interested in you romantically too? You decided to test the waters a bit for some time, see how it goes and if he really sees you as only a friend.

George occupied your mind now, you found yourself thinking about him often, your daydreams growing bolder as with time you got more comfortable with the idea that you were completely and utterly attracted to him. Both emotionally and physically. You craved his attention and realised that you always took it for granted. Now you searched for it, constantly wondering about the ways you showed each other affection as friends – wanting to only balance the line now, maybe step a toe outside a little bit, to see how George reacts to it. By the time for lunch, you were properly excited.

Once again, you took a seat next to George, who was busy talking. You sat real close, your sides touching. You resisted the urge to wrap your arm around his and lay your head on his shoulder and settled down.

George looked at you at the sudden contact. He couldn’t see your facial expression. Thinking it was the manifestation of your need for comfort, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed your arm gently. “Everything alright..?”

It took a lot of effort for you to not squeal and keep your face casual, pull yourself together.

“Yeah, why?” “Oh, I just… dunno,” he mumbled, dropping his arm. You looked up at him innocently, “I don’t mind that,” you referred to his embrace. “Oh I bet,” he chuckled, pushing into your shoulder and getting back to his food with a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you mocked offence, hiding just how much your heart rate picked up. “Nothing, just- just joking,” he replied and got back to listening to Fred.

“Do you know if Frazer is back from the hospital wing?” you asked him on your way to Transfiguration, talking about your regular desk mate. You moved closer subtly, brushing your shoulder against his arm.

Frazer used to be one of the reserve players for the Gryffindor team, so George kept in touch with them. “I don’t think so, didn’t Angelina say anything to you?”

You knew they would still be absent, but that was not the point.

“Last time the seat next to me was empty it didn’t go well, is all.” “See, I’d sit next to you but then you’re just gonna complain how I keep distracting you,” he scoffed jokingly and put his hands in his pockets.

You took this opportunity to link your arm through his and waited patiently.

“’kay, I’ll sit with you,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “But I will be distracting you.”

And he did. But this time you happily let him. You put up enough of a façade so that McGonagall thought you were somewhat participating in class, while in reality, you had zero focus on the topic.

It started with him just nudging with his pinkie the hand you were holding down your notebook with, during the lecture. Then he took his quill and started a game of tic-tac-toe in his notebook and slid it towards you.

After you made your first move, you didn’t slide the notebook back, making George move his chair closer, so that you were both hovering over the paper together. You played a few games, each ending in a tie. Last round, as George was close to winning and you were about to make a move, he placed his hand on your quill hand, botching your move, then made his final one.

George sucked air in through his teeth, “would you look at that,” he mocked, earning a glare from you.

He then withstood two minutes of boredom, doodling in your notebook occasionally, before he started writing on the margin of your notes. This started a dumb joke contest between the two of you which lasted until the end of McGonagall’s lecture. She ordered you to practice, giving you a chance to talk.

“You’re awfully nice today,” George quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Am I?” “Yeah. No ‘George, stop it’, no ‘George, I wanna focus on the lesson’, no glares...”

What was supposed to be just a joke to tease you, got you thinking. Were you behaving too much unlike usually? You didn’t think you were being that nice, so could it mean-

“Am I that mean usually?” you asked casually, resting your chin on your palm. “Yeah, just aw-“ he started, sarcastically. Then he took notice of your expression, which wasn’t necessarily serious but he still worried, “-wait are you serious? I was just joking-“ “I know, I know…”

“You’re both idiots, you are aware of it..?” Fred butted in, leaning over his desk behind you.

George shot him a look and grabbed your hand, then still holding it, flipped Fred off.

—————⑦—————

The same week, Hogwarts was graced with the first snow of the season. It had started snowing around noon. By the end of your afternoon classes, there was a layer of snow on the ground already while the snowfall continued. That, paired off with your all-around angelic mood these last few days, made you excited like a child.

You pretty much ran out of the classroom, skipping through the corridors to the common room. Noticing George’s back by Fred and Lee, you practically threw yourself at him.

“It’s snowing!!” you shouted and they laughed at your giddiness. “Yes, we know, Y/N, there are windows in here,” George told you, settling you down.

You looked up at him with puppy eyes, pouting. You weren’t quite ready for Fred and Lee’s teasing yet, so you’d rather not have to say ‘George, go outside with me, but just the two of us, please’ out loud.

“Are you going out?” George asked with an adoring smile and you nodded enthusiastically. He looked at his mates who were already busy with something else. “Alright, get changed and I’ll meet you here.”

As soon as you stepped outside you marvelled at the sound of snow under your boots. You ran ahead a bit, looking around yourself at the snowflakes falling everywhere. George chuckled at you, but you didn’t mind, the sound of his chuckle only made you happier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy about the snow.”

But it wasn’t just the snow.

You turned to face him and shrugged. “I’m in a good mood,” you said, reaching your hand out for him to take. George took a second trying to read you, looking into your eyes, making you dizzy again. “Let’s go to the lake,” you proposed. “Okay,” he replied simply and finally took your hand.

It felt different from all the other times you held hands. While it was different in all the best ways, it made you extremely self-conscious – from the distance between the two of you (you ended up close enough to brush your arms together as you walked) to how tight your grip was (about medium). That’s how you walked in silence until you reached the lake.

“It’s beautiful,” you noted, truthfully. “Too bad there’s not enough to make a snowman, huh?” you said, kicking a bit of snow under your foot. “Give it a bit of time and we’ll make a troll out of snow.”

You looked around the beautiful landscape, mountains and trees covered in white layer of snow, the black lake beginning to freeze on the edges and the delicate snowflakes disappearing after meeting its smooth surface.

You glanced at your scarf, jacket and gloves. You brought George’s hand up, his black hand gloves providing better contrast, allowing you to better admire individual snowflakes. “Look,” you told him, completely enamoured with all the tiny shapes.

And he would have, had you not looked so adorable.

“I think about it every winter and it still baffles me, how each of them is different. And they’re all so beautiful. Each one is special…”

“Yeah… yeah, they are.”

—————⑦—————

You took a warming shower and put on some comfy clothes, then walked downstairs into the common room. It was full, non an extraordinary sight on a Saturday night, but the worst of it – George was sitting with a group of others and you couldn’t just outright ask him to ditch them to spend time alone. You walked over to the couch with your regular smile, hoping they wouldn’t stick around for too long.

You took a small spot on the sofa between Fred and George, who was spread wide in the corner, his arm on the backrest. You brought your legs up end settled close to him. To your appreciation, his arm didn’t move from its spot, behind your shoulders now. It didn’t take you long to rest your head on it, his body warmth drawing you in.

The afternoon in the snow took its toll on your friends, their conversation was slow, their tiredness visible. One by one they started getting up, stretching and heading up to their dorms, Fred and Lee amongst them.

“You going up?” George asked you through a yawn, noticing you didn’t show any desire of getting up from your spot. “I wanna stay here a bit longer,” you mumbled, looking at him a bit expectantly.

He hummed in agreement and shifted to sit a bit straighter up, allowing you to snuggle into his side without having to lay on top of him.

You put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around him like many times before, hoping he wouldn’t feel your thumping heart this time. George placed one of his arms around your shoulder, the other loosely over your arm on his middle and sighed contently, letting his head fall back and resting his eyes.

You breathed in his scent and let it consume you. Being this close felt electrifying, exhilarating yet comforting at the same time, it felt simply as if his arms were made to hold you.

“Been a while,” he said quietly. You felt the vibration of his voice and it sent shivers down your spine. You’ve always loved George’s voice but now it had a special effect on you. “Hm?” “Since we’ve… spent time like this,” he explained. Spent time like this, huh? “Hmm… has it..?” you mumbled.

“Are you drifting away already?” he chuckled and you followed, sleepily. “That comfy, huh?” “Actually, yeah… and I love this jumper, it’s so soft,” you blurted out, running your fingers over the fabric of his jumper. He didn’t say anything to that and you cringed a bit, scared you may have made things awkward.

“How are you?” George asked after a bit of silence. He noticed the question was vague, considering he saw you every day, so he quickly added, “after last week.”

You thought for a bit. “Alright, I think.” He hummed. “Had other things on my mind this week, distracting me,” you said truthfully. “Other… what things?” he asked, suspiciously. “See, that’s for me to know and for you to find out… maybe.” “Playing with moss again, are you?” he quipped, making you laugh. “You are in a good mood all the time lately,” he noted, his tone suggesting there was something else behind his words.

The two of you talked some more of day-to-day things until it got hard to keep your eyes open. Eventually, you both decided it was time to head up, not wanting to fall asleep on the old, worn-out sofa. You reluctantly left his embrace and got up, feeling the cold of missing his body right away. You stretched and yawned, stalling your parting ways.

George looked at you, putting his hands in his pockets briefly. He then took off his jumper. The t-shirt he had underneath had ridden up slightly, revealing a bit of his abdomen, but you looked away before he could catch you staring.

“Night, love,” he said, handing you the piece of clothing, not quite looking you in the eye. You hesitated at first, then took it from him, brushing your fingers against his.

“Sweet dreams, Georgie,” you replied and turned to walk away, swallowing hard as soon as he couldn’t see your face, feeling your cheeks burn up.

You took a long shower that night, one loud enough to mask just how much George occupied your mind.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley series

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1147

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? Hmm, I can’t remember ever doing that.

Why did you ignore the last person you ignored? My new manager, Kata, messaged me a bunch of links to EXO’s videos to get me into them – I looooove that she’s friendly and we vibe super well so I have a feeling will be close soon enough, but I’m still a bit shy so I ignored her for a bit while I was thinking of a reply haha. I’ve since gotten back to her, though.

What's your favorite pizza place? Yellow Cab’s pizzas have never failed me. Mama Lou’s is good too, but they don’t deliver to my area so I haven’t had their pizzas and any of their food in over a year now.

What was the last stupid thing someone talked you into believing? That we can stay friends. I believed it for a while and it was so mentally and emotionally deteriorating for me, so I did the right thing and let go instead.

What's at the top of your to do list in life? Save. I’m superrrrr frugal with my money and hate spoiling myself. I’d rather enjoy everything in the future once I feel like it’s right to settle down.

What's a song that would describe your life at the moment? What Type of X by Jessi. Maybe not my life, but the song certainly matches my mood these days.

Do you ever scream at inanimate objects? Occasionally, if they’re not working or if I accidentally hurt myself with them.

What was the last thing that you shared? I just had lunch delivered to Angela’s place as a surprise, if that counts. I got her chicken wings and these chocolate chip cookies she’s always wanted to try. It feels really nice surprising people with gifts; I might start making it a habit :) I have to credit my director Bea for it - she’s been having food delivered to mine and Kata’s places recently and I just want to pay it forward.

What smell/s can you absolutely not stand? Fruits. We constantly have a stock of oranges because my parents and sister like having them after dinner, and the smell is nauseating. Spoiled food is also high up on my list, and the general smell in Manila is also very foul. Go to other places in the Philippines if you’ll ever visit!!!

Do you ever eat leftover pizza cold? Yessssssssssssssss. Idk why but I find it really good? like even if I eat it straight out of the fridge.

Where are you the most ticklish? The sides of my stomach and around my neck.

Would you put your life in danger to rescue someone? Someone absolutely important to me, yes.

When you're wanting a midnight snack, what do you normally get? I usually don’t really like the snacks we have in our pantry so unless I already had food delivered earlier in the evening I just let the hunger fade because I don’t like having food delivered that late anyway.

Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Buster from Toy Story. Or Maximus from Tangled but in dog form, because I don’t know how to care for a horse.

What color best represents you? Something peaceful like off-white, or a pastel shade.

Do you like marshmallows? I hate them.

What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I also don’t like candy canes, or candy in general. Too sweet and I can always feel how unhealthy they are whenever I have to have them.

Do you have any shoeboxes full of old photos/letters/other memorable stuff? My mom has several plastic bags filled with photographs over the last few decades. As for me, I don’t own any memory boxes; but recently, I’ve been sticking up notes from my friends and co-workers up on my corkboard.

Are you in any way double jointed? Nope.

Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? Never. I never liked singing in public and I’ve never considered acting.

When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? A few days ago when I accidentally turned my camera on during a work Zoom meeting while I looked completely unpresentable. Luckily I knew I clicked the button and immediately un-clicked it, but my video still showed up for like 0.001 seconds lol.

Have you ever liked a song, looked up the lyrics to it, then hated it? I don’t think I’ve gone so far as to hate it. I have felt slightly disturbed upon hearing the lyrics of some songs I’ve taken a liking to though; and Cherry Wine by Hozier certainly ticks off this box.

Which is worse for you: being hot, or being cold? Hot, which is why living where I do doesn’t work with me well for the most part.

What would be the icing on the cake for you this Christmas? Get nicer gifts for my loved ones. I was able to get everyone presents last Christmas, but given that I had just received my first-ever salary then, I wasn’t able to go all out as much as I would’ve liked. I’d love to spoil my loved ones even more for next Christmas.

If you had the opportunity to live forever, would you take it? Probably, as long as I was guaranteed to live comfortably. I’d love to see how else technology can continue to improve.

Have you made someone happy today? I hope so, when I got Angela food earlier.

Do you generally watch a lot of television? I do watch my favorite shows a lot, but not on television. Most of my content I already consume online.

If your bedroom walls could talk, what would they most likely say? They’d probably go over all the shit I had to go through and the ensuing breakdowns they’ve had to watch from me over the years.

What's your favorite Christmas song? It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas, because it makes me feel festive.

Did you ever really believe in Santa Claus? Only for a brief moment when I was introduced to the concept, but kid-me never bought it because he never showed up.

Do you like the band Relient K? I’ve heard of the band name but I’m largely unfamiliar with them.

Have you ever seen a movie that was better than the book it was based on? Maybe, but for the most part I usually find the books to be better.

Do you like quesadillas? Yes, omg and with jalapeños and cheese *chef’s kiss*

Did you like the show Invader Zim? Nope.

Do you think tomorrow will be a good day? I feel like I’ll be sullen because it will be Sunday again, but I still plan on making the most out of it.

Do you ever talk to yourself? A lot.

Whose butt did you last slap? Idk, probably my ex.

Do you think that chivalry is dead? I don’t think so, but I also think it’s a bit outdated.

What's the greatest/most influential song you've ever heard? That’s a lot of pressure on a song... as much as I don’t really like The Beatles, I’d say Hey Jude has been pretty influential.

What's the weirdest thing you've seen in a grocery store? Not sure. If I had thought something I’ve seen was the weirdest thing ever, I would’ve taken a photo.

What is true love to you? Sacrifices.

Do you like chocolate milk? YES, lactose intolerance be damned.

Have you ever bought yourself a present on Christmas? Not yet. I hope to be able to this year!

Have you ever been on a mechanical bull? Nope, but I’d definitely get on one if I find one here.

Do you prefer to pull off band-aids slowly or quickly? Slowly. Actually, I prefer running water over it until it just slides off.

Have you made a mistake in the past week? I am constantly making tiny mistakes at work.

What was the last weird thing you said to someone? Idk, I feel like all the conversations I’ve had recently didn’t involve any inside jokes or general weirdness.

Have you ever met any bands/band members before? I got to work with one - Redd is the drummer for a local band but he’s since resigned to work with another company.

Have you ever sat on a copy machine and made copies of your butt? No. I’ve never even used a copy machine.

Are you a camera whore? Not at all, I hate posing for the camera.

Have you ever purposely dropped someone's toothbrush in a toilet? Never even considered it.

What kind of mood are you in right now? A little sad because it’s the weekend and I can’t even do my weekend coffee shop trips anymore because Covid cases are experiencing another surge (9000 cases a day!!!), protocols are everywhere again, and my parents already told me I can’t go out...those moments were my rare time alone where I can take walks and reflect and whatnot (and not to mention experieince air conditioning for a few hours), so it sucks to have to be stuck at home again. There’s not much to do at home to begin with, so now I’m just stuck in a cycle of taking surveys and finding videos to watch on YouTube.

What was the last thing someone told you that had you at a loss for words? I was ranting to Andi about how I started despising Diane from BoJack Horseman the moment she flipped out over Mr. Peanutbutter gifting her an entire library. I get where she’s coming from, of course, “understand people’s love language” and all that; but I felt like the very hostile reaction was super uncalled for and it reminded me a lot of my relationship with Gabie – I liked giving and giving, but it was either 1) never enough or 2) apparently the wrong way to show her love, and I was always the one punished for it in the end. I told Andi that because of my experience with her, I don’t even feel like giving a library (metaphorically speaking) to any future significant others anymore because of how hard I had it with her.

Anyway, they gave me some advice about it and in the end they told me, “One day, someone will tell you, “Thank you for your library.’” It was very beautifully put and I struggled to find the words to reply.

What's something that always makes you smile, regardless of what’s going on? I’m not sure there is such a no-fail thing.

What was that last thing that you bought online? Food for Angela.

Do you enjoy riding around town looking at Christmas lights? Yeah, but the general mood for last year obviously wasn’t super festive and there weren’t as much lights, so it’s been a while since I’ve seen my village all decked out.

Is there someone that you're mean to for no good reason? No, that’s terrible.

What was the last thing you got out of the freezer? The coffee ice cream that I bought from Leigh yesterday! It’s crazy fucking good and I already feel a repeat order coming through.

Are you currently reading anything? No.

What's a good book you'd recommend? I don’t read anymore. I know child/teen-me would be very disappointed.

#survey #surveys

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 18

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

“Mommy is going to be really mad,” TJ laments from the backseat as they pull into the driveway. “Is that why she didn’t come and get me? Because she’s mad?”

“She’s just tired,” Tyler assures him, as he kills the ignition. “She needs sleep. Having a baby is hard work. And your sister is only three weeks old. Still new.”

“She’s going to be so pissed,” the five-year-old sounds as if he may cry. “She doesn’t like when I get in fights. When I’m bad at school.”

“I think she’s going to understand why you go into this fight. Once you tell her everything and...”

“I can’t tell her! That’ll just make things even worse. Can’t you just tell her I wasn’t feeling well and had to come home?”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, mate. Have you seen your face?”

“That’s going to make her even more mad!” he cries, and then promptly bursts into tears.

Normally he’s the strong, stoic one; very rarely showing even the slightest hint of sadness. Even as a baby he rarely cried, not even for a wet diaper or out of hunger. At three he’d adopted the habit of cracking jokes –even at his own expense- when he felt the threat of tears coming on. Rage and frustration are his two main negative emotions; easily going from laughing and smiling to angry and intense. Possessing a hair trigger temper that’s bad enough on an adult, but extremely troubling and almost terrifying on a little kid.

“She’s not going to be mad,” Tyler assures him. “She might be mad at the kids that messed you up but...”

“I messed them up worse!” TJ snaps, as if offended anything other than victory had been suggested or expected. “Don’t forget that part! I handed them their asses!”

“...but she isn’t going to be mad at you,” his father calmly continues.

Snapping back or letting his own anger or frustration show will do nothing. Other than encourage the kid to escalate his own behavior. It had been a hard thing to learn; not to immediately react when TJ begins acting out. Handling it emotionally and letting his own temper take over just to makes things even worse. According to the therapist, anyway.

“Redirect not escalate”, he can hear her say. “Kids like this need patience and understanding. Not judgement and punishment.” He’d thought it was bullshit at first. That not punishing bad behavior only encouraged it to get worse. It’s how he’d spent his own childhood, after all. Until it had been drilled into his head that there was nothing normal about the way he’d grown up and he needed to ‘break the cycle’.

“You don’t know that!” TJ argues. “That mommy won’t be mad!”

“I’ve known her longer than you have. I know her a bit better. I know what makes her mad and sets her off. I’m a master at pissing her off. And I know she won’t be mad at you. She's going to be a little sad when she sees what your face looks like.”

“That’s even worse! I don’t want mommy to make mommy sad!”

He cries even harder now. Arms folded across his chest, chin tucked into his chest and his eyes closed; entire body shaking with the force of his sobs. If there’s one thing that he is sensitive about, it’s his mother. No one upsets his mother on his watch. And if they dare raise their voice to her or look at her with even the slightest bit of threat in their eyes, he’s the one jumping to her defense. Tanner fits the typical ‘mommy’s boy’ stereotype, but TJ will fuck someone up if they mess with her.

Tyler kills the ignition and waits; giving his son a few minutes to get all the tears and emotions out. He knows better than to even attempt to offer any form of support or comfort, whether it be verbal or physical; the kid hates feeling as if someone is pitying him or seeing him as weak and it will only send him into a blind rage. So he gives TJ the chance to work things out on his own; occasionally glancing at him through the rearview mirror, holding off until the sobbing subsides and the five-year-old gives a long, shaky sigh and then uses the front of his t-shirt to wipe his face.

“You good?” He asks.

TJ nods.

“You wanna go in? See mommy? Tell her what happened?”

“You won’t leave, right? You’ll stay when I tell her?”

“I’ll stay right with you. What do you think she’s going to do to you?”

“Nothing. But I don’t want her to be sad. I hate when mommy’s sad. And she won’t be sad if you’re there.”

He wants to tell him that he’s made mommy sad plenty of times. More than he likes to admit. That he’s made her cry too many times to count and regrets every single tear she’s shed because of him or over him. But he doesn’t; burdening kids with adult problems solves nothing. It only causes more issues. And they have enough of those to deal with.

“Let’s clean you up a bit,” Tyler suggests, as he slides from behind and wheel and steps out, popping open the back door of the truck and reaching for TJ’s backpack. “You got clean clothes in here?”

“I think so. Mommy always remembers to put some in.”

“Good thing one of us has our shit together, yeah? Go in the garage,” he instructs, as he unbuckles the straps on the booster seat and then wraps one arm around his son’s slender body, helping him down to the ground. He’s tall for five; long and lanky, yet solid and strong. “I’ll clean you up in there. That way you look a bit better when mommy sees you.”

“Okay,” TJ agrees, bare feet slapping against the cement of the driveway, stopping momentarily to scoop up that day’s newspaper that the delivery boy had tossed onto the grass, then throwing it at the front door.

Sighing, Tyler closes the truck doors and sets the alarm before joining his son in the garage, peeling off the blood and dirt stained t-shirt and locating the cleanest part possible; wetting in at the sink in the corner and then using it to clear away the dried blood from TJ’s face.

The kid never winces once; not even a single flicker or pain despite the often vigorous scrubbing or the fingertips that poke and prod as they investigate each injury.

“Is it broken?” TJ asks, when his dad presses on the sides of his nose.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anything’s broken. Any missing teeth? Loose ones?”

“None missing. But...” he pauses as he uses the tip of his tongue to press against each tooth. “A couple loose ones.”

“They’re baby teeth. So they’ll just fall out and you won’t be gruesome toothless for long.”

“Now that’s mean,” TJ giggles, then immediately grows serious. “Am I going to get arrested? Are the police going to come here?”

“Why would the police come here?”

“Because I beat those kids up. I heard what Mrs. Tucker said. About it being assault. That’s a bad thing, right? That’s what police come for. Bad things.”

“You’re five. I think you’ll be able to escape an assault charge. And don’t listen to that stupid bitch.”

TJ’s eyes widen.

“And also don’t tell your mom I called her that.”

“She is though,” TJ concludes.

“A stupid bitch?”

He giggles. “Yeah.”

“The stupidest of bitches,” Tyler agrees, and then tosses the soiled shirt into the hamper before locating a clean one at the bottom of TJ’s school bag. “Feel better?” he asks, as he yanks the item of clothing over his son’s head. “Just a bit?”

TJ nods. “You know what would make me feel even better, though?”

Tyler arches an eyebrow.

“Ice cream.”

Grinning, he lays a hand on the back of his son’s head and gently pushes him towards the door. “Ice cream would make me feel a bit better too.”

***

“So what was it today?” Esme inquires, as she stands at the kitchen island; body swaying from side to side as she holds Addie along her arm, free hand flipping through a stack of mail. Not even glancing up when they step into the room. “Desk tipping? Chair throwing? Calling the teacher a stupid fat cow?”

“In his defense, I’m the one that actually called her that,” Tyler admits. “And it’s bit more than that.” He drops TJ’s school bag on one of the bar stools and then lays a hand on her hip and presses a kiss to her temple. “You might want to give me the baby.”

“Why?” she gives a small, almost nervous laugh, a scowl creeping across her face she looks up at him and sees the seriousness on his face. “It can’t be THAT bad?”

“Trust me on this,” he says, and she places the baby along his arm; Addie’s head nestling into the crook of his elbow. Carrying her across the kitchen and giving a Declan a kiss on the top of his head as he sits snacking in his highchair before tossing open the freezer and taking out the ice cream.

“Mommy...” TJ begins, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels. “...don’t be mad.”

“Why would I...” her eyes widen when she looks at him; taking in the various cuts and bruises that inhabit his face and then rushing to him, kneeling in front of him with one hand on his shoulder, the other gently cupping his cheek. “What happened? What the hell, Tyler?”

“He got into a fight,” her husband responds, as he places Addie in her swing by the sliding door. “No big deal.”

She frowns. “Not you. I wasn’t asking you.”

“You need to actually specify which one of us you’re speaking to when we’re both in the same room,” he reminds her. “Or neither of us will answer because we have no clue who you’re talking to.”

“I got into a fight,” TJ confirms, as she scoops him up and places him on the edge of the island.

“It looks more like someone used you as a punching bag.”

“He looks worse. Much worse. So do the other guys.”

“There was more than one?” Her fingers cautiously survey the damage, the cut across the bridge of his nose and the swelling under the left eye the most concerning.

TJ sticks his bottom between his teeth and nods.

“How many more?”

“A couple.”

“A couple?”

“Four,” he admits.

“Four kids? In your class?”

TJ looks to his father for moral support as he joins them, placing three spoons and three bowls of ice cream on the counter, then handing him an ice pack tucked under his arm.

“Eye,” Tyler gently orders. “It’ll keep the swelling down. And it was four older kids,” he says to his wife, remarkably calm and composed as he leans stomach first against the island and digs into the ice cream.

“How much older?” she asks.

“Grade four,” TJ answers.

She frowns. “You’re five.”

He shrugs. “I’m a bad ass,” he reasons.

Esme stares pointedly at her husband.

“What?” Tyler asks innocently. “Guess he’s got good genes.”

She sighs and turns back to her son. “You fought four kids?”

“I was really only fighting one kid,” TJ explains. “The others jumped me. So I fought them too.”

“All of them? At the same time?”

“And won,” Tyler says, and then shrugs when she glares at him. “Just sayin’.”

“You don’t seem the least bit upset about this,” she observes.

“Why would I be? My kid just took on four other kids and beat their asses. Why would I be upset? I’m proud of him.”

“Have you looked at his face?”

“He’s got a black eye, a split lip, a sore nose and a couple of loose teeth. They’ll fall out and his adult teeth will eventually come in. I don’t see the big deal. I’ve had worse.”

“You’re forty years old,” she points out. “And you used to...well...you know what used to do for a living. Of course you’ve had worse. He’s five!”

“And it won’t be the last time he gets a little messed up. It’s not a huge deal.”

“He could have a concussion,” she argues.

“He does not have a concussion. Did you hit your head?” Tyler directs the question to his son.

“Nope.”

“He doesn’t have a concussion,” he concludes, and returns to the bowl of ice cream in front of him.

“You can get punched hard enough to get a concussion,” Esme reminds him.

“I don’t know how hard you think grade fours hit, but it’s not hard enough to give him a concussion. Would you relax? He’s fine.”

“He doesn’t look fine. Do you have a headache?” she asks TJ.

Tyler sighs in exasperation. “Esme....here...” he pushes on the bowls in front of her. “...relax.”

She scowls. “We should take him to get looked at.”

He can’t help but laugh. “Why? He’s fine. He got into a fight. Stop making a big deal out of it. It won’t be the last fight he gets into, trust me. Millie’s always beating the hell out of him.”

“Why did you get into a fight in the first place?” Esme asks, as she combs her fingers through TJ’s thick, unruly hair and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“The one kid was picking on Tanner,” he explains, as he digs a spoon into the bowl of ice cream his father sets in his lap. “And it made Tanner cry. So I got pissed off and I told the kid to leave him alone. That he’s my brother and no one makes my brother cry. NO ONE.”

Tyler gives a grin of pride and approval, then frowns when his wife digs her elbow into his ribs. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” she says. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking those little shits fucked with the wrong kid.”

“They deserved it mommy,” TJ pipes up. “They all deserved it. And I’d do it again to protect Tanner. To protect any kid against the bullies. Bad people should be punished for being bad, right? Like daddy used to punish them for hurting good people.”

“Okay, that’s not exactly how his job worked, but...” she sighs. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mom...” he looks her dead in the eye, suddenly appearing –and sounding- much older and more mature than he is. “...I’m tough. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“You’re five. Not fifteen,” she reminds him, and then tousles hair. “You need to stop sounding so much like your dad. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just...it makes me nervous. You go and take your ice cream outside so I can talk to daddy for a bit, okay?”

“Is he in trouble?”

“Probably,” Tyler grumbles.

“No one is in trouble. I just need to talk to him. About adult things. No little ears allowed. Got it?”

“Got it,” he agrees, and then jumps down form the island. “Am I grounded?”

“Not this time. You did the right thing. You stuck up for your brother and defended yourself. But you do not...I repeat DO NOT...go around starting fights. Ever. You don’t hit kids for no reason, you don’t pick on anyone, you don’t even look at someone the wrong way. Because you’re freakishly big and strong for a five-year-old and you’re going to seriously hurt someone. Now go outside, finish your ice cream, and then go and see Ovi and tell him he’s invited for dinner.”

“Okay,” TJ says, then gathers up his bowl and scurries away, cheerfully greeting Mac as he steps outside; the dog waking from his nap under the patio table and excitedly rushing to see his favorite little human.

****

“So....” Esme leans against the counter alongside her husband, scooping out a spoonful of ice cream and popping it into her mouth. “Did you kill anyone? Am I aiding and abetting a fugitive?”

“I behaved myself. No blood was shed. I promise.”

“What about tears? Did you make anyone cry? At least tell me you made someone cry. Or shit their pants. Both would be a bonus.”

“I might have made the principal cry. Or shit himself. I’m not sure. He wouldn’t even come out of his office. Totally threw the secretary under the bus.”

“Mrs. Tucker,” Esme scoffs. “That stupid bitch.”

Tyler grins. “Look at that. There ARE things we agree on.”

“She’s so condescending. Every time I go in there, she starts talking to me like I’m one of the students.”

“Well in her defense, you are smaller than most of the kids there,” he teases.

“Don’t make me take out my small people rage on you. I’ve spent thirty-five years not being able to reach the bottom of the washing machine or being able to get things off high shelves. I’ve got a lot of pent up anger over that shit, so don’t you start with me.”

“And you say I need anger management. Everyone thinks TJ gets it from me. I think we both know where he really gets it from.”

“I don’t think he got any of my DNA,” she frowns. “So did you? Make Mrs. Tucker cry? She’s terrified of you.”

“She was ballsy today. She actually tried to scold me. For my bad language.”

“How bad was your language?”

“First I called the other kid an asshole. Then I called him a little prick.”

“Normally I’d balk at calling kids names like that, but in this case, I think you were justified. She tried to scold you, huh?” Esme grins. “That must have gone over well. Did you make her wet her pants? Did you give her ‘the look’?”

“Which look? I have about twenty.”

“More like forty. I’ve counted them. But you know the one I’m talking about. Mille and the twins all have it. That one that clearly says you’re tired of someone’s shit and ready to show hands.”

“In that case, yes. I gave her ‘the look’.”

“And the principal never came out?”

“Nope.”

Esme snorts. “What a pussy!”

“I don’t know what his issue is. I’m not that scary.”

“Sure you’re not,” she laughs. “You’re so scary, Chuck Norris sleeps with a nightlight on.”

Tyler smirks. “Now that’s a good one.”

“So what they say? What’s the punishment?”

“They wanted to suspend him for four days. But I wouldn’t sign that papers until all the little pricks got in trouble too. Why is our kid the only one catching shit when all he was going was standing up for his brother? And defending himself when the other little fucks jumped him.”

“Think this is the elementary school version of the Goonies from hell?”

Tyler laughs at that. “That’s exactly what they are. The Australian version of Farhad and his buddies.”

“We have to find something to laugh about when it comes to Dhaka, right?”

He nods in agreement. “Secretary said the other parents will want an apology.”

“Fuck them.”

“And that they could press charges.”

“Give me a break. He’s five.”

“It’s still assault. She’s right about that.”

“Well if that’s assault, then so is what they did to him. They jumped a five-year-old. Who turned around and beat the hell out of them.”

“Millie said it was...and this is a direct quote from our daughter...’fucking awesome’. Is it wrong that I would have loved to have seen that? Just watch him destroy those kids. He’s in kindergarten and he’s taking on older kids. A group of them. At the same time. And he’s winning. Now come on, that’s impressive.”

“And did you hear what he just said? About teaching bad people a lesson? I wonder he gets THAT from.”

“I know you hate when I say this about any of them, but that kid is all me. There’s no denying whose DNA was more powerful when he was made.”

“No one wants to hear about your stellar genes or your super sperm or whatever you’re going to say next.”

“No one,” he grins. “Meaning you. Don’t be bitter about this. I’m sorry your genes just could not compete that day. That they didn’t show up until the very last one. It’s not my fault that they were asleep at the wheel.”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep one day and no one will be the wiser. They’ll probably sympathize me, actually. That poor girl; putting up with his bullshit for so long. No wonder she didn’t do it sooner.”

“Listen, anyone who knows you, knows you don’t put it with bullshit. And that I’m one who’s been putting up with yours for almost seven years. Don’t act all innocent. You’re tiny but you take no shit from anyone. Like one of those dogs people carry around in their purses. They look all cute and sweet, but they’ll take out your Achilles tendon and then go for your jugular once you’re down.”

“One day Tyler...” she muses with a dramatic sigh. “...one day I will bring you down. You’ll be begging for mercy when I finally get a hold of you.”

“You’ve had me begging before, so...”

“Okay, during sex does not count. I’m talking about making you beg for mercy. Because the next time you compare me to some angry animal...”

“So I can’t ever bring out the comparison to a honey badger?”

“I will seriously kick you in the nuts! “

“Considering how short you are, it’d have to be a head butt.”

“Do you want to see your forty first birthday?” She laughs, and he chuckles and wraps an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his, lips pressing against her temple. “Do you think they will?” she asks, turning serious once again. “Want to press charges?”

“I doubt it. They’ll be embarrassed when they find out a kindergarten kid that’s still afraid of the dark beat the fuck out of their spawn. At the same time.”

“You’re a little too proud about that.”

“I’m so fucking proud of that kid I could cry,” Tyler admits.

Esme rolls her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the school calls the child protection people again. Because I’m too ‘aggressive’ and a ‘bad influence’. I’ll fucking show them aggressive if they show up here. I’ve got lots of property I can hide bodies on.”

“Okay, how about we NOT kill the child services person. Chances are they won’t even show up because last time they found nothing against us, and they were pissed at the school for wasting their time. So...” she carries their dirty dishes to the sink, then stands behind him and curls back around his waist and rests her head against his back. “...let’s not even think about that. I’m proud of you. For handling things as well as you did. I thought for sure you’d have an anxiety attack going there. But you held in there and kicked some ass. Maybe not literally, but still. You did awesome, baby. Progress!”

“Do I get a gold star on the chore chart chore of it?” he chides. “I think I’m on three out of five days of good behavior and responsibilities met.”

“Oh, I’ll give you something later for it,” she promises. “You do realize that even though this time was justified, our son still has issues, right?”

Tyler sighs. “I know. He takes after me, yeah? Of course he has issues.”

“Baby, he’s five and he’s been through a lot and he’s having a hard time processing it all. This has nothing to do with you. Stop beating yourself up over things you can’t control. You didn’t do this to Tyler in the same way you didn’t do something that made Austin sick. Have you had that dream again?”

“Not since we talked about it. Doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. Obsessing over shit. About her turning six. But no. I haven’t had the dream since that night.”

“Then stop. Please. Stop hating yourself for things that are beyond your control. You’re not a horrible person, Tyler. You’re a good person who has had to some horrible things.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Well, I kind of like you a little bit, so...”

“We’ve moved up to like, huh?” he teases, as he turns around to face her, hands settling on her hips. “Only took almost seven years to get past the tolerating me stage.”

“Don’t push it. There’s days where my tolerance level is pretty low. Because let me tell you, as cute as you are, there are times where you just drive me absolutely batshit insane.”

“But you’d miss me. If you woke up one day and I was gone.”

“I don’t even like hearing you joke about that. That is not something I like to think about, let alone talk about. Especially now that we’ve got this Ovi bullshit hanging over our heads and the very real possibility that you’re going to get back into things and...”

“And we’re not going to worry about that shit unless we have to,” he finishes for her. “Stop,” he implores, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly. “We are nowhere near anything like that going down. That’s weeks away. If not months. It isn’t going to happen overnight. So I need you to stop thinking about it, okay?”

Esme nods, but the tears sparkling in her eyes gives away her true feelings.

“Don’t do that. Please. Don’t look at me like that,” he begs, and places a palm on the back of her head and pulls her into him. “Everything is going to be okay. It might not even come to that. Me having to leave.”

Her arms wrap around his waist, hands sliding under the bottom of his t-shirt and her index fingers hooking around the belt loops on his jeans. “I know you’re trying out the whole optimistic gig, but when you actually don’t sound optimistic, it doesn’t work very well. This shouldn’t even be happening. We shouldn’t even have to worry about this. It was supposed to be behind us.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That this is shit is even happening. It’s not what I wanted. Trust me.”

“It’s not exactly your fault. You didn’t put all that crap in Ovi’s head. I just didn’t want you dragged back into this. Not now. Not ever. We have five kids that need you. Why didn’t he think of that? Of the people here that need you to come home safe and sound.”

“Because he’s a fucking drongo, that’s why. But you know what? There’s a chance I won’t even have to go anywhere. And that’s the chance I need you to think about. Can you do that? For me? Start thinking about how I may NOT have to go instead of convincing yourself that I AM going. Because one of us needs to be the strong one right now, and if I’m totally honest, I don’t feel like being that person.”

“You don’t have to be,” she says. “You know that. You don’t have to always be strong, Tyler. Sometimes you need someone to be strong for you. That that’s okay. No matter what someone told you or what you saw or heard growing up, there’s nothing wrong with NOT being strong. And fuck anyone who ever made you feel otherwise. Your father, Gaspar. Fuck them both.”

“I’m so fucking pissed,” he admits. “At Ovi. At Nik. At everyone and everything. I’m angry and I’m frustrated, and you know what? I’m fucking terrified. Because I don’t know if I can do that shit anymore. The job. I don’t know if I have it in me. Physically or mentally. And if I fuck up even in the smallest way, I’m NOT coming home. And that scares me the most.”

She tightens her hold on him; fingers releasing the belt loops and now gripping the back of his shirt, face buried in his chest. “It’s okay,” she says. “To be scared. You can be scared with me, Tyler.”

Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he buries his face in her hair and closes his eyes. It’s comforting; the feel of her body pressed against his, the smoothness of her skin and the heat that radiates off of it, the familiar scent that clings to her hair. There are so many little things that he tends to take for granted. The way she’ll stand on the top of his feet to kiss him because she thinks those couple of inches gained make a remarkable difference. How she’ll just wander into the gym in the middle of a workout and not say a word or even make eye contact with him yet leave a bottle of water where he can find it. Or how she’ll just silently reach for his hand and hold it while they sit on the patio outside of their bedroom and watch the sunrise together.

Little things he’d miss in a huge way if they suddenly ceased to exist.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #best part of me #extraction #chris hemsworth character

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jbuffyangel · 6 years

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Lost Season 1 Reaction

Reactions are one of my new ideas for the blog expansion. I receive lots of requests to watch other shows and unfortunately I can’t write full length reviews on all of them. But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch and post some thoughts!!! Consider reactions an abbreviated review. I’m sure I’ll be playing around with format a little, so bear with me, but hopefully this another way to watch more shows and give you more great content!

First up is Lost Season 1! Let’s kind of dig in...

My History with Lost

I did not watch Lost when it aired ten years ago. Okay, that’s a lie. I watched the pilot, but it was not my first JJ Abrams show. I watched both Felicity and Alias. My primary beef with JJ Abrams is he creates great shows, but he doesn’t stick around. Invariably the show is handed off to another executive producer who doesn’t have the same vision as JJ and they run it into the ground. At the time, my husband and I were feeling particularly burned by Alias, but we still decided to watch the Lost pilot. We thought it was interesting, but we were not emotionally prepared to begin another JJ Abrams show.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t curious though! I heard all the water cooler talk over the years, but I held firm to my decision not to watch... until the finale. Yes, that’s right. I CHEATED.

I watched the finale when it aired because I wanted to know what the island was. I had absolutely no context for 99.99% of the things happening,

but I understood the general ideas and managed to shed a few tears in the process. Yes, I cried over characters I did not know. Lost music is very emotional and they all seemed like very nice people.

I bumbled along in this thing we call life completely okay with my decision to read the first and last chapter of Lost until I met @callistawolf.

She asked me to watch because it’s her favorite show, but I adamantly refused. However, during one of my many Vampire Diaries bitch-a-thons, I said I would watch Lost if she watched The Vampire Diaries (I really want her opinion on Stelena and Delena). SHE SAID YES. HAHAHAHA. I think we can all agree I made out better in terms of quality, but a deal is a deal!

And thus, my Lost journey begins. You can also follow my reactions on Twitter in my #JenWatchesLost tag.

Who Do I Love?

Hurley is everything and must be protected.

Jack is my boy. I love me some wound-tighter-than-a-Timex-doctor-with-a-hero-complex. The whole physician thing really comes in handy. Maybe I should go to med school as like survivalist training. Nah. Too much work. Jack always knows what to do even though he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s impressive and stressful. There’s significant daddy issues too which reminds me of Oliver Queen. Also, he’s very pretty. I like the stubble. This shocks no one. Everyone knows I have a type.

I am siding with Locke in terms of philosophical debates. Faith and belief are a huge part of my life, so it doesn’t surprise me I’m agreeing with Locke whenever faith versus science is debated. There’s a lot of religious symbolism and just plain old straight-from-the-bible parallels, which is amazing to find in a prime time broadcast television show.

The dog.

Who Am I Shipping?

Jack and Kate. I typically get on board with the Plan A couple as long as the show gives me a strong storyline and evidence for why this couple should be together. I like that Jack and Kate are the flip on the bad boy/good girl trope. Kate is the “bad girl” who doesn’t believe she deserves the good guy. Jack is protective with a a deep desire to save people. And of course, opposites attract!! She is impulsive and Jack is pragmatic. Kate runs and he digs in. They both have significant issues, but thus far they seem to bring out the best in one another. They are each broken in their own way, but my hope is their broken pieces fit together.

Jin and Sun are perfection. I thought we were going the whole abusive husband route, but they swerved right into a rainbow! Did not expect that. It’s nice to see a married couple fighting to stay together. Jin feels like he ruined Sun’s life so he has to leave the island to find help. Sun just wants Jin to stay because he is her life. Jin is learning English and Sun is wearing a bikini. These are the building blocks of an EPIC romance.

Charlie and Claire. They are already raising a baby so just get married. Locke can officiate.

Sawyer and his sass.

Hard Pass

Boone is in love with his sister? There’s a love triangle with Boone, Shannon and Sayid? Super gross y’all.

I don’t know why, but I don’t like Michael. He bugs me.

Jack and his “I know everything about the world because science” attitude. Dude, you are on an island with a freaking polar bear. It’s possible there’s a few things you don’t know.

I was really angry at Sawyer when he didn’t tell Jack about the conversation he had with his dad. Do we get to vote people off the island? Because Sawyer would be the first to go. He’s back in my good graces now because he fessed up, but it was touch and go for awhile.

The way Kate’s childhood love died was really hokey.

Kate and Sawyer. Sorry guys, I have yet to see Sawyer as anything other than the third point in the triangle. A triangle I don’t even think the show needs. It has plenty going on. There’s great chemistry, but she also has that with Jack. Kate and Sawyer are just too similar. Their snark is fun, but I’m not getting a “Theirs is a forever love” vibe.

I Feel All The Feels

The scene where Sawyer tells Jack about the conversation he had with his dad before he died slayed me. When Matthew Fox cries, I cry.

Just when I started to like Boone, they killed him. And Shannon wasn’t there? Come on writers that’s just mean. It’s okay though. Smolderholder had to get a job on The Vampire Diaries and make all the money.

Shockers

LOCKE WAS PARALYZED? UMMM WHAT?

I remember people talking about the number thing and wondering what it is. Now I know what the number thing is. Except I don’t really know what the number thing is.

Locke’s dad used him for a kidney. WTF? That’s so messed up. I’d be driving past the house screaming, “Why?” too.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THEY BLEW UP THE RAFT AND TOOK WALT! WHERE IS WALT? ALKJSDLFJOIALJSDLFJSDF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fave Quote

“That thing in the woods, maybe it’s a monster, maybe it’s a pissed off giraffe, I don’t know. The fact no one is looking for us, yeah that’s weird. But I just go along with it. Good old fun time Hurley. Well guess what? Now I want some freaking answers!” (Hurley, “Numbers”)

Random Thoughts

It’s Matthew Fox from Party of Five people!!! I miss Party of Five.

The clothes from the dead people just magically fit everyone. Oh what a wonderful yet completely unrealistic plot contrivance.

Ian Somerhalder is in Lost? Did I know that? I think I did, but may have forgotten. He looks like a baby. Baby Damon is on Lost. That's some interesting cross fandoming given the Lost/TVD show switch with @callistawolf

Lost has done a pretty damn good job answering all the food, clothing and shelter questions. There’s been a lot cool and inventive ideas for tools, supplies, medicine, etc. I’m sure 95% of what Sayid does is impossible, but I believe it because he’s Sayid.

One cannot watch Lost while multitasking because all the things happen every five minutes in this show.

Questions

This is me shouting into the void. Don’t spoil me with answers.

When do we get to make Hurley in charge of everything?

Who won the golf game? No really. Who won?

Jack has a wife? What’s the deal with the wife?

Okay but for real what is going on with these numbers?

We don’t get to find out what’s in the hatch? What madness is that??? How the hell did you guys watched this show live & wait weeks & weeks over hiatus and not lose your mind????

#lost #lost season 1 #lost spoilers #reactions #lost reactions #lost review #lost reviews

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i-writeandread-blog · 6 years

Text

Wonderland - Chapter 7

'What the hell just happened?' I wonder to myself. I know he didn't have my apartment number but I also know he is Jared Leto, he is very resourceful. I was certain that writing that note would be an indication to him that I was not willing to pursue a... a what? A relationship, a friends with benefits, a friendship... I wasn't sure what this was, but I didn't want it to be anything. And here he was breaking all the rules of a one time fantasy being lived. I stare at him incredulously.

"You lived your fantasy, now I want to live mine." He says with a smug grin.

"Jared, you shouldn't be here. What just happened can't happen again."

I grab my shirt and pull it back on. I can't bring myself to look at him, so I hang my head down and wait for him to leave. Except he doesn't make any move to do so. He stands there and huffs loudly instead.

"And why exactly is that Ali?"

"Because I am in my thirties and I don't want to play games anymore. We are much too old to do that. I'm at a point where my next relationship is going to be my last relationship. You're a perpetual bachelor. You can't offer what I need."

"You're putting words in my mouth here. Did I ever say I don't want those things?"

"Not exactly, Jared. But actions speak louder than words. What you and Jamie did the other day was something I'd expect from college frat boys. And even still your lack of relationships and even being seen with the same girls more than once in the media speaks volumes."

"Ali, I am a private person. I have dated. If you're not seeing these people in the press it is because I don't want anyone to see it. Besides, I haven't dated much recently because no one has excited me. You, Ali, excite me. For four months I've thought about you. I'm not even sure why, but I know there is a reason for it."

"How could I ever trust you? Jared, you go out on the road and women throw themselves at you. I couldn't live with the idea that someone I'm seeing is tempted like that. I know men can only handle so much temptation before they give in. I like you. Hell I love the idea of you. You're absolutely right that I've fantasized about you. You've been the object of my daydreams for a long time, but I can't handle a broken heart. Not again."

"What happened to you Ali? Whoever hurt you is not me. I'm not that guy."

I laugh a little louder than I should have when he says that. He is exactly like every man. The fact that he doesn't realize that is comical. Am I to believe that Jared Leto is the one man out there that is completely honest, never cheats, doesn't emotionally abuse, etc? I don't buy it.

"You should go." I tell him.

Instead of leaving he walks over and plants himself onto my couch and continues to stare at me. After a few minutes I can't take it anymore and I start fidgeting with my hands. I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. I make sure I grab one bottle of water and crack the seal. I am not offering him one because to do so would say he is welcome here and he is not. I walk back into the living room and take a sip of water.

"All I am asking is for a chance here. Open up to me and we can see if this is something that can work for us." He finally says.

I'm not one to shy away from communication so I decide he is right. He's also not giving me any reason to not at least hear him out. I should feel lucky as hell that I have him in my apartment, that he is adamant about being with me. I'm still not sure in what capacity, but I'm curious enough to find out. If I don't like what he says I can still kick him out.

"Alright, I'll listen to what you have to say."

"Thanks. First I want you to know that you're right to be concerned about my intentions. What Jamie and I did, didn't seem all that bad at the time, but to lead you into thinking there was another guy wanting to meet you was a lie. I'm not sure what has happened to you, but I do understand honesty is a must in any relationship."

"So then what do you want from me? What kind of relationship?"

"I want to get to know you, I want to take you out to dinner, to have low key nights watching movies and eating popcorn, to go hiking, maybe even climbing." She tenses. "If those are things you'd like to do or try."

"What about the Echelon?"

"What about them? Look Ali, you know as well as I do that majority of them will be supportive. Yeah sure there will be a few that will be upset or jealous. That's only if you wanted them to know about you. If we decide to let them know about us."

"Ok so if we decide to see where this goes, what about the paparazzi? You said yourself that you're a private person. What if I don't want to be tucked away and hidden?"

"You'd have to be comfortable going out with me if that were to be a part of our relationship. The paps will always be around, it's a fact of my life that I cannot change. I chose this life. People who are my friends or family did not. I mostly let them dictate how and when they're seen, if ever. The important thing is to not care about what is said."

"Speaking of... I saw a video online from last night. People have been really cruel."

"I figured something would pop up. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I only read three comments and then closed my computer. I've avoided social media all day."

"That's understandable, but you gotta understand that the negative comments are just words on a screen and have no bearing on us and how we feel about each other."

"What did you mean by you living your fantasy now?"

"Ali my fantasy is having you be mine."

I smile at those words. I'm still unsure of what to do with his self proclaimed need to have me in his life. He saw me from the stage at a show, he saw me around camp, he's had one night with me, and he is so sure I am the one for him? It all seems so odd.

"Why me?"

"I don't know. I feel connected to you."

"Can you actually promise to be honest with me? Do you honestly think you're capable of that?"

——————

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I'll prove it to you now. I'm not even sure I'd have ever admitted what I'm about to tell you to anyone before. I was really hurt when I woke up to a note this morning. I couldn't get a song to go the way I wanted, so I took it out on my friends this morning."

I search her face to make sure she's still following what I'm telling her.

"Ali, this isn't my finer moment here, but I wanted to call you, I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I was going to text. Then when I clicked on your number, your picture from last night was there." She gasps.

"I hadn't realized it was still on my phone. You saw me delete it." She nods.

"Well here's the really disgusting and private thing I am going to tell you. Full disclosure and all."

"Oh... my... God, Jared! You didn't?"

I can still turn this in my favor. I am really good at talking about sex and desire. If I'm playful, maybe my charm will reward me.

"I couldn't help it, Ali. You're so fucking sexy. I want you even now."

I wink and run my hands to my crotch. Her eyes light up as they follow my hands. I grab my dick through my pants and squeeze. Her body reacts in awe striking ways.

"Okay, Okay. Stop! You've made your point, pervert!"

She playfully swats me and I grab her arm and tug her closer. I can feel the heat of her breath on my lips. I kiss her softly and then let her go.

"Alright, get up and go get dressed. We are going to go somewhere."

She doesn't ask questions or make it seem like she's confused or upset. She takes the order and leaves the room. I wait a few minutes and then follow her. When I enter the room I see chaos.

"Ali, what's going on in here? Did your closet explode?"

"Yes, no. Ugh. I don't know what I'm changing into because I don't know where we are going!"

I walk over and grab a pink tank top laying on the floor. I see a pair of white shorts on the bed and point to them. She takes the cue and picks them up. She looks at me and twirls her fingers showing me I need to turn around.

"I think we are past the point of modesty, babe. I'll play along, but I may take a peek."

I turn around and after 5 Seconds I can't take it anymore. I spin back to face her and proudly gawk at her petite figure. She grumbles but isn't really mad. She dresses quickly and puts on a pair of flip flops.

I take her hand and guide her out of the apartment. Once we are outside I let her know that I didn't drive. She guides us to her car. It's nothing special, but it's nice never the less.

"Sorry, my Ferrari is being serviced at the moment." She guffaws loudly, which is really adorable.

"Okay well I guess I can be seen in this. Hand me the keys."

"Oh no no Leto, this is my baby. She doesn't let just anyone drive her."

I wonder for a minute if there's gonna be a back and forth or tug of war for the keys, but she relents quickly and gets in on the passenger side.

"I have one of them new fangled cars you see. Don't need to stick a key into an ignition. It's real smart." She says with a thick southern accent.

"Oh one of them there fancy smancy cars, eh?" I return with my own southern twang.

It takes me a minute to adjust since this is a manual transmission and I haven't driven one in a long time. I put the car into reverse and back out of the lot. Within seconds I am speeding down Cahuenga towards the 101.

After 25 minutes has passed Ali realizes where we are and lights up. She even perks up in the seat beside me. Her eyes glisten with tears. I reach for her hand but come up short when I have to downshift to make the turn onto Dorothy Drive.

"Jared, you brought me back to camp!"

"It's where our story should have began." I say with a hint of sadness.

"Doesn't matter, the past is just that. We are here now making new memories. AND, we are here alone!” The excitement is evident on her face.

"Probably not alone, I'm sure there are staff members floating around here and there."

"That's okay." She says defeatedly.

I come to a stop and park the car. I'm overjoyed to be back here with her, and I can also scope out the possibility of having Camp next year even though I had said we wouldn't. I sometimes do that. I recently said this next album would be our last, but it probably won't be. I love making music too much and we have hundreds of songs that could still make it onto a sixth album.

We get out and walk to the entrance. There's a lightness to our steps. I can tell Alice is giddy. It's the reason I started the Camp in the first place. Adults want to be kids again and this gives us that chance.

"Well let's go have some fun, shall we?" I ask rhetorically.

Before she steps too far away, I spin her around and plant my lips upon hers. And because I can't help myself, I give her a smack on her ass. And because she can't help herself, she moans softly.

@nikkitasevoli @msroxyblog @burritoverload @lolainblue @lady-grinning-soul-k @snewsome756 @branded-with-a-j @llfd1977

#jared leto smut #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fic #jared leto fiction #jared leto #jared leto fan fiction #jared leto fanfics #jaredandali #wonderland chapter 7

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secretcswriter · 7 years

Text

Going Home for Christmas

Summary: When Killian Jones’ best friend Emma Nolan asked him to come home with her for Christmas acting as her fiancé, he never could have guessed what it would mean.

Find all Chapters Here

Also Read it Here: ff.net

Chapter Five | Making (Pretend) Plans

The photographer Mary Margaret eagerly introduces to them is a family friend named Ruby.

She and Emma spend a good five minutes catching up and laughing, effectively leaving Killian on his own to a discussion with Mary Margaret about the weather and how she hopes they have a spring wedding.

He’s begun to realize that he’s far too out of his depth here, and not in a good way where he can save himself. No, he’s drowning.

“Let’s go outside to the garden. I know it’s cold, but I found this great tree you could stand under and the snow is super pretty.” Ruby says with a crinkle in her nose.

“Oh, I know exactly which one you’re talking about.” Mary Margaret says. “It’ll be perfect.”

Emma goes to him and takes his hand easily as they follow Ruby and Mary Margaret outside to the garden, where he finds himself caught up in the wonder of winter. He hadn’t realized the castle sits with its back to a lovely lake with mountains in the picturesque distance.

Snow makes it all the lovelier, most of it untouched as the flakes trickle toward them and melt almost instantly against his exposed skin.

It’s truly stunning as he looks at their surroundings from the spot beneath the tree that Ruby wants them under. Emma’s still holding his hand as he looks out, entirely enamored with the quiet and calm of it all.

“Quite the view,” he says.

Emma hums. “It’s pretty.”

Killian can’t help but smirk at Emma. She’s staring up at him, snowflakes caught in her eyelashes and dusting the top of her head. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are rosy from the cold.

“You’re pretty.”

He sees her blush deepen as her mouth falls open ever so slightly as if to admonish him. He chuckles and leans in to leave a kiss to the side of her head. When he moves away, he finds Ruby and Mary Margaret staring on giddily.

“That’s perfect!” Ruby gasps. “Again! This time, Emma,” Ruby moves in close to them and physically adjusts them so Emma’s hands are pressed to his chest and she’s turned toward her mother. “Okay. That’s good.”

They take a few like this, and a few of him holding Emma close with her hand on his arm. It feels like a proper portrait, with how she keeps adjusting their heads and chins and shifting their hips to get the right angle.

She’s warm in his arms, and she still smells amazing. It’s almost enough for him to forget they’re standing out in the cold of winter, posing for engagement photographs he’s fairly certain will somehow be his downfall.

“Okay, let’s do… oh, I know. Forehead kiss.”

It continues like this for a while. They take a few forehead kiss pictures, and then Mary Margaret suggests they go back inside where they can sit by the fire.

They move eagerly back inside, hand-in-hand, and Ruby takes a few pictures of them from behind before insisting they take a few in the garden with him standing behind Emma, his arms around her middle and his nose in her hair.

None of this does him any good emotionally. His stomach won’t stop being flooded with butterflies and his heart feels achingly full at each press of her against him.

She turns to him at one point and grins so happily at him that he imagines that maybe, if he just got a minute to speak with her, they wouldn’t have to keep pretending.

Oh, he is in love with her and none of this is helping matters.

Why did he agree to come along again? Right, because he’s a good person and a good friend. But for some reason he feels less than good right now.

“Thank you for this, Ruby,” Mary Margaret says after the last photo is taken on the floor of the den with the soothingly warm fireplace.

“Yeah, no problem! These are going to be killer. I’ll get them downloaded and pick out a few for review by three this afternoon.”

Mary Margaret cheers. “Oh, yay! Thank you. We’ll keep an eye out.”

Both he and Emma thank Ruby and the photographer goes on her way, clearly excited to see the fruits of their labor. Emma’s mother turns to them and lifts her shoulders.

“Well, that was fun.”

Emma’s a little bit breathless. “Yeah.”

“When do you want to start planning the wedding?” Mary Margaret asks. “I have some ideas, but I don’t want to impose. I just… I am so excited, Emma.”

Emma sighs. “Mom… we just got here.”

Her mother nods in understanding, a frown riding her lips. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s… I’ve been planning for this day since you were a little girl and now that it’s here, I can’t wait to share with you.”

His best friend softens. She tucks her hair behind her ears and nods. “I know.” She glances up at him and back again. “I guess a peek wouldn’t hurt. But we’re not making any decisions.”

The queen gasps excitedly. Her face brightens up so much that it’s almost as if she hadn’t been smiling before.

Killian watches Emma get whisked away by her mother and he laughs slightly at the frantic look on her face as he waves at her. “I’d come with you, but I’ve got plans with Leo.”

Emma rolls her eyes a little, but has no room to respond because Mary Margaret’s talking her ear off.

He watches them go for a few moments before he hears his name. Turning, he discovers Leo approaching from a cluster of people gathered nearby talking and gawking at the royal mother and daughter.

“Killian, you ready for our hike?”

He grins at Leo. “Of course. I’ll need a minute to change into something more comfortable.”

Leo bobs his head. “How about I meet you back down here in fifteen?”

+ + +

Prince Leopold is adventurous at heart and quite fun to be around. They’re climbing a nearby mountain while they talk about the world and the nonsense within it, and it’s more fun than he’s had in a while.

He genuinely enjoys being with Leo, and he gets the feeling Leo feels the same toward him.

They reach their objective and stand atop a cliff looking out at the castle that lies beyond.

“The world is so much bigger up here,” Leo says, slightly out of breath with deep pink cheeks hiding behind his scarf.

Killian chuckles. “Aye. It is.”

He takes in the enormity of the sky and how peaceful he feels. It’s good at giving him a straight head where it comes to his feelings. They seem less significant as he looks around from way up here.

“So, I promised myself a long time ago that when Emma got engaged and it was serious, I’d bring my future brother-in-law on a hike and we’d talk about his intentions.” Leo says honestly.

Killian meets his gaze and nods. “Alright.”

Leo crosses his arms to make himself more intimidating. “My sister is incredibly important to me and I’ve seen her go through way too much heartbreak. I don’t want it to happen again.”

Killian knows this feeling all too well. He nods. “Aye. I know. I promise, I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her intentionally. I… I love her and I’m not keen on letting her go.”

Leo smiles at that. He looks over at the castle. “I can tell she feels the same about you.”

From an outsider’s perspective, the words bear more weight than they really should. Killian’s heart races.

“Do you think you’ll come back?” Leo asks. “For the wedding or… I don’t know, living here?”

Killian shakes his head. “I don’t know, mate. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time here so far, but… I think that’s up to Emma.”

Leo sighs and nods. “I guess.” He presses a hand to the back of his head and breathes the day in deeply. “I always thought when she got married she’d come home.”

It’s really not his place to make promises, but he figures one more won’t hurt amidst a sea of lies they’ve already spread far and wide.

“I’ll talk to her.”

Leo’s eyes widen brightly and he laughs. “Really?”

“Sure,” Killian grins. “Family ought to stick together. That’s what my brother’s always told me.”

Leo claps him on the back. “You know, you and I are going to get along, Killian. I can feel it.”

+ + +

“I’ve been planning for a long time for the chance to give you the wedding of your dreams,” her mother admits as they walk into her study.

It’s been a whirlwind of a day, complete with far too much Killian gazing at her with far too much affection in his eyes. But it isn’t as if she’s been any better. And that kiss. Even if it was shortly lived, she's having a hard time making ends of what any of this means.

This trip wasn’t ever supposed to get out of control. It was always supposed to be simple and they’d show up and he’d be charming and her parents would be happy that she’s happy. And then they’d go back to their lives as they were.

But instead, she’s come face-to-face with a realization that her family really, really wants her to be married. To Killian Jones.

They love him more than she could’ve anticipated. Even her father, the man who once shot at one of her previous boyfriends, seems to have no problem whatsoever with his little girl marrying Killian.

What could they possibly see in him- in their relationship- that they haven’t seen before?

Emma’s eyes widen as her mother shows her the three gigantic scrapbooks of ideas sitting out on her desk.

“I have ideas for just about any theme you might want to pick from,” her mother says. “But I was thinking… that you could have the wedding here and we could have it out by the water at sunset.”

Emma stares at the pictures in the book closest to her as her mother flips frantically through another to find the page she’s looking for. She stops finally and points out some details they might use.

“Look, your father and Leo could build this beautiful archway,” Mary Margaret caresses the picture as if it’s dear to her. “And we could decorate the garden with lantern lights and you could dance under the stars.”

Truth be told, the idea is beautiful. Emma can’t imagine anything better than a wedding like that. She imagines they’d have to do it in the summer, so they’d have plenty of time to plan, but at the same time no time at all.

Emma smiles fondly at her mother’s description. “That sounds so beautiful.”

Mary Margaret looks up at her and shakes her head on a soft sigh. “Emma, I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

Emma smiles back at her mother. This is all she’s dreamed about for a long time, giving Emma a wedding.

“I know,” she admits on a laugh. “It’s hard to believe.”

Mary Margaret shakes her head. “No, I can see it between you. You and Killian were meant to be together. The way he looks at you, and the way you look at him...” Her mother sighs happily. “He’s not like anyone else you’ve brought home. He’s different. A really, really, good different.”

Emma’s heart flutters. “How can you tell?”

Her mother shrugs and lifts an eyebrow. “He makes you smile. With your whole face. And you look at him like he could change the world and you really think he could.” Mary Margaret smiles. She reaches out to brush a strand of Emma’s hair behind her ear. “And when he speaks, you hang onto every word. It was never like that with anyone else.”

Her mother has tears in her eyes and Emma’s chest tightens because of her words.

“And I imagine he’s the first person you think about in the morning when you wake up and the last person you think about when you fall asleep. That’s how it is with your father and I at least. He’s your best friend and you’re his.”

The weight of her mother’s words ring all too real with Emma.

Her mother clears her throat and straightens out. “Do you want to take a look at what I have? I know it’s a lot to take in, but… it’s a good start.”

Forcing herself to stop thinking too much about the situation she’s put herself in, Emma forces herself to smile and nod. “Sure.”

+ + +

Her phone buzzes in her hand as she stands outside of the door leading to the rooftop where Elsa had said they were waiting for her.

It’s an email from her mother, sent with high importance. She taps into it and finds the email reads: I love them all! What do you think? I prefer number one for the announcement. Dad thinks so too. :) - Mom

There are a few photos attached. Emma’s heart skips a beat when she realizes just what they are- they’re from the engagement photo session they’d shared just a few hours ago.

It had been quite something coming off of their first kiss and moving straight into half an hour of close touching and easy laughter. She’d been surprised by how natural it all felt, and how calm she’d been with him holding her close.

Although, she isn’t surprised at all when she thinks about it, because everything with him is simple and safe.

The first picture, her parents’ favorite, is of them standing beneath the tree, both of them happy as they hold onto each other in a less than natural pose. She can’t help but to think she fits kind of perfectly there, with her head pressed against his collarbone, and his arm wrapped around her.

The second is a picture of them laughing about something as they sit in front of the fire, wrapped in a quilt. It’s a close shot, capturing just how widespread their grins are. Her mom was right about one thing- she smiles with her whole face around Killian.

The third is of Killian kissing her forehead. Their eyes are both closed and he’s holding onto her so lovingly and tenderly she wonders if it had been as real to them in the moment as it appears.

She doesn’t have time to check the rest of the pictures because she gets a text from Elsa begging her to come outside already.

So, she types off a quick, Love these! Number one is great. -Em and sends it back to her mother before opening the door to the rooftop party.

It’s pretty out here, as it always is, with flowers her mom had planted for her secret garden all hidden away for the winter. The warm lantern lights hanging overhead give the space a familiar and safe glow. There’s Christmas music playing near the outdoor bar her dad had installed and all of her friends from brunch are assembled, wrapped in blankets and baggy sweaters.

“Emma!” Elsa calls out happily. She hurries to her side and slings her arm through hers. “You have come just in time. Belle has brought with her the finest cheap wine and Aurora and Ashley brought snacks.”

Emma laughs happily. Spending evenings out on the rooftop with her friends was always a highlight growing up at the castle, and this is no different.

They gather together on a blanket with pillows and cushions. Emma accepts a glass of wine when it’s offered to her by Belle.

“So… how’s being engaged?” Elsa asks in a sing-song tone.

Emma laughs and shakes her head. She mimics her friend’s voice, “It’s nice.”

The girls chuckle.

“Do you guys have a date yet?” Anna asks.

“No, not yet.” Emma says. “We just want to be engaged for a little while before we start drowning in wedding plans.”

Anna’s eyes widen. “Good for you! Kristoff and I dove right in. Not that I regret it. Because I don’t.” Emma smiles slightly when Anna rubs her baby bump. “But it’s a lot of hard work.”

Elsa shifts in her spot and grabs a cookie from the pile of snacks in the center of their circle. “So, how’d you guys meet?”

Emma takes a breath. “Um… well, we met-” She can’t help but laugh a little. “We met at his brother’s birthday party. I was dating this guy at the time that knew him and I mistook Killian for his brother when I introduced myself. I kept trying to talk to him about what little my boyfriend had told me about Liam and he was just so confused until I called him the wrong name and then he cleared it up.”

Her friends giggle.

Aurora has a bite of cake and tilts her head. “And now he’s your best friend! Imagine it.”

Emma smiles happily. “Yeah. He is.”

“Oh my gosh, tell us about your engagement story. I love engagement stories!” Belle insists.

She laughs and shrugs. The story she and Killian came up with for this is good, she has to admit. It’s full of just enough facts that are true for it to come across as plausible.

“Okay. So one of our favorite places to go is this little diner called the Starlight Diner. He asked me if I’d like to go for dinner and I agreed, not really thinking much of it. When I showed up, he had our table decorated in flowers and he was wearing a fancy suit. So I asked him, ‘what’s going on?’ and he said, ‘can’t a guy take his beautiful girlfriend out for a special dinner?’”

The girls laugh. She does too, mostly because this is something that actually happened. Minus the relationship stuff.

“And so we had dinner and I’m thinking the whole time that he’s either crazy romantic or he’s proposing, or both. But it didn’t happen, and instead we went for a walk by the harbor, and I had decided it wouldn’t… but then he pretended he noticed something on the ground.” Emma shrugs, smiling happily at her own story. “And then he asked me and I said yes.”

Her friends swoon over the entirely made-up story, and Emma can’t help but feel the slightest bit of pride over the tale because of how sweet it is.

“I am so glad you’re getting married to him.” Elsa says. “He loves you so much, Emma.”

Suddenly, as she had with her mother, she feels nothing but guilt. Killian can’t love her. Can he?

“And he’s not a jerk like what’s his name,” Belle adds. “He’s a proper gentleman.”

“He is.” Aurora agrees.

Elsa hums. “Well, when you get to wedding planning, just remember, I’m your best girl friend and I have performed as maid of honor before.”

The rest of the group tries to get her to nominate them for the position. Emma can’t help but laugh as she looks to Elsa.

Of all the people she’d dream about having in her wedding, she thinks Elsa takes the cake. Elsa was there, through thick and thin, when she still lived at the castle. Come to think of it, Elsa was sort of her Killian before she met Killian.

She isn’t sure what to make of that.

And she isn’t sure what to make of the tightness in her chest as she thinks about Killian either.

#cs ff #cs au #my writing #ghfc #mc

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 7 years

Text

Queen Cobra

I have been wanting to write a snake miraculous holder Alix fic for a long, long time now, and I finally gave in, so here’s the first chapter of what’s gonna be a wild ride of friendship, danger, rich kid bonding, sneks, and memes

Also on AO3 as always

Being a superhero was fairly fun most of the time, getting to save people from danger and zooming around the Parisian rooftops without anyone telling you off or yelling at you to slow down. And plus, having superpowers? That was awesome.

Being a pretty blatant third wheel to Ladybug and Rena Rouge, on the other hand, was a heck of a lot less fun. It was always the two of them fighting the akuma, saving the day, actually having non-lethal special powers and getting to use them without worrying that they were going to kill someone off or whatever. And then they’d fist-bump each other, only remembering Queen Cobra as an afterthought.

“Oh – Queen Cobra! You go keep an eye on the civilians! Make sure they’re safe!”

It was always that. Making sure the civilians were safe. Going after normal, “muggle” bad guys, like robbers or muggers or murderers, and not the magical supervillains in dorky costumes that plagued Paris on a daily basis. No, those were Ladybug and Rena’s job to deal with. Half the time it didn’t even feel like Queen Cobra was part of their team.

But now? Things were different. Recent events had shaken up Paris so badly, probably even cool-headed Ladybug wouldn’t know what to do with herself. Was her job at an end, now that there were no more akumas? Would she and Rena have to retire? Or would they finally have to start doing the lowly, unglamorous job that Queen Cobra was already used to, cleaning up the city of criminals who did bad things on their own accord?

Well, maybe she wouldn’t know for a while until she saw them again. And until then, there were more pressing matters on her mind. Far more pressing matters.

Like the fact that a certain someone now knew her secret identity. Someone who was definitely not supposed to.

“Yo ninja turtle, what is UP my dude?”

Alix Kubdel burst through the door into Master Fu’s room, throwing her schoolbag on the floor and sitting down in front of him, exhausted. Today had been such a weird day.

“I really should be asking you that question,” Fu said, not even raising his eyes from the book he was reading. “I hear quite a lot of interesting things happened today.”

“Yeah, it was crazy. You must have heard that Ladybug and Rena caught Hawk Moth, right? Oh yeah, and they apparently don’t know you so they asked me to give you this.”

She took a tiny little butterfly brooch out of her pocket and put it on the table in front of her.

“It was a bit of a job persuading them that I actually know the Great Guardian of the Miraculouses in real life, or whatever fancy title you call yourself,” she continued. “Do they really not know you? How did you even give them their Miraculouses if you never met them?”

“I simply left the box containing their Miraculouses in their possession,” Fu said, before taking a sip of the tea that was on the table. “The less they know about me, the better. The Ladybug and Fox Miraculouses are considered more powerful and valuable than yours, so it would be safer for them not to know too much. I left it to their kwamis to explain everything to them.”

Alix pouted for a few seconds – more powerful and valuable, honestly! Did Ladybug or Rena have frickin’ rollerskates on their super suit? Um, no, they did not.

“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t do that with me,” she said finally. “Scoot wouldn’t have bothered to explain anything to me anyway.”

The little green kwami in question jumped out of her pocket indignantly. “That is blatantly untrue! I would certainly have explained your powers to you if Master Fu did not, I would never have just left you to fend for yourself–”

“Yeah you would, noodle boy.” She gave Scoot a little poke in the side. “Anyway, catching Hawk Moth and putting him in jail was not the only thing that happened today. Uh, something else did too. Something less good.”

“You discovered the true identity of Hawk Moth and did not like the result, is that it?” Fu asked. By this time Wayzz had hopped off the phonograph and onto Fu’s shoulder, listening intently. Gee, why couldn’t Scoot be that polite all the time?

“Sorta,” she replied. “I mean yeah, turns out Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, famous fashion designer and whatever, the dad of one of the kids in my class. But um… there’s something else too… I sorta screwed up…”

“That’s an understatement,” Scoot added, rather unhelpfully.

“No it isn’t,” Alix said. “It’s just that someone may have found out my secret identity.”

“They definitely did.”

“And then I ran straight over here to tell you so I have no idea what their reaction is.”

“A disaster, probably.”

“Would you be quiet?!”

“How did this happen?” Fu asked. His expression hadn’t changed at all.

“I de-transformed and didn’t realize this person was standing right behind me,” Alix said. “Lame, I know. And I know we’re not supposed to tell people our identities, so like, am I in danger or something? What am I meant to do now?”

“That depends entirely on who this person is. After all, I know your secret identity, as do Wayzz and Scoot, and your brother too. It isn’t always a bad thing.”

Yeah, well Jalil only knew for practical reasons. Scoot refused to eat anything that wasn’t dead mice, and owning an actual pet snake was the only non-suspicious way to get hold of that, so of course she had to tell Jalil. He was an adult, he could buy one, even if it did freak their dad out a lot. And she trusted him to keep her secret.

“So who is this person?” Fu asked.

“Well…”

The worst person possible, really. Not only was it someone she saw almost every single day, but also someone who was probably in a complete breakdown over other things in their life right now and definitely did not need to have knowing a superhero’s secret identity added to their list of things to flip out over.

“It’s Hawk Moth’s son,” Scoot said for her, crossing his little kwami arms and rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. Adrien Agreste.” Alix took a quick glance at the smartwatch on her wrist – Adrien had her number from various school projects, but he hadn’t tried to call her or anything. Maybe he was still too busy freaking out over his dad being a supervillain to bother with his classmate turning out to be the least famous member of Paris’s resident supergirl trio.

“That’s not too bad then,” Fu said, shrugging and pouring himself some more tea. “He seems like a nice person from what you’ve told me before, I’m sure he won’t tell anyone. And with the threat of Hawk Moth gone, it is much less dangerous for everyone whether they know your identity or not.”

“But that was emotionally stable Adrien I’ve always told you about,” Alix said, trying to figure out a way to get across what she was worrying about. “Right now he’s literally just found out his dad is Hawk Moth, who’s been put in jail, and his mother’s been missing for like a year. He’s gotta stay in custody of Gabriel Agreste’s assistant now. He basically has no parents. And from what I saw of him when I was keeping him safe while Ladybug and Rena were busting in and whatever, he’s uh… not taking it that well.”

“Then I suggest you go speak to him.”

“Um… what?”

Fu seemed weirdly unperturbed. “Go have a chat. Remind him not to tell anyone your secret identity. Make sure he’s alright.”

“Bruh, I’m not a therapist. I am very bad at dealing with people who are flipping out.”

“It’s true,” Scoot said.

“Shut up, Scoot, you’re wrong. I changed my mind. I’m good at dealing with people, and I will definitely go talk to Adrien.”

Fu just smiled. “Excellent. Let me know how it goes.”

“Oh, and by the way…” Alix fiddled with the laces on her Heelys absent-mindedly. “Now that Hawk Moth’s gone, what’s the Super Squad gonna do? I mean, as Queen Cobra I can still go be Batman, but Ladybug and Rena never did any of that stuff. They only fought akumas. Are they still gonna keep their Miraculouses?”

“That is up to them. I believe it would be good for the city’s morale to have their superheroes continue to be around, wouldn’t it? But if they have nothing that they want to do then let me know, and I will get their Miraculouses back.”

“How?”

He tapped the edge of his nose. “That’s a secret.”

“Are you gonna break into their houses and steal their jewellery while they’re asleep or something? Dude, that’s creepy.”

Wayzz, usually content to be silent and just listen in, burst into laughter. “Who says he’s the one who’s doing the breaking in?”

“You, really?! Wow, criminals…”

Scoot tugged on one of her loose strands of hair. “Come on, the sooner we talk to the Agreste boy, the better.”

Agreste boy? Pfffff, he had a name. But Scoot was right. It was better to just get this over with before Adrien had a total meltdown, which was probably going to happen at some point. That kid had always been a ticking time bomb.

She stood up and picked up her bag. “I guess I’ll see you guys some other time then.”

“Perhaps stick around for tea next time?” Fu asked, holding up the tea pot.

“Meh, I think I’ll stick with Red Bull, thanks. Bye for now.”

She waved and walked out of the door, Scoot whizzing back into her pocket along the way.

Right… now to find Adrien. Would he still be in that protective alleyway where she had left him? Or would he have gone back home? Of course, it was always possible he might have been picked up by the police or something, they’d want to know what was going on. Not that they’d get anything out of Adrien, of course, there was no way that boy knew anything about his father’s villainous activities, he was definitely innocent–

Oh, drat. He was standing right there. Outside Fu’s shop.

“Uh… hey Adrien!” Alix said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Oh… hi…”

He really, really did not look good. Red eyes, tear-stained face, clothes still half covered in debris from his father’s evil lair sending off missiles everywhere when Ladybug and Rena had broken in. His voice sounded like he was trying to hold back tears, though mostly failing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Maybe this was all just some weird, crazy coincidence. There was a small likelihood that Adrien hadn’t recognized her when she de-transformed, or maybe he had somehow forgotten (amnesia could be a side-effect of trauma, right?), or maybe he hadn’t even noticed and she just thought he did, and maybe he just happened to be coming to Fu’s shop to get a back massage or something. Yeah.

“I followed you.” He was shuffling nervously on his feet. “I saw you earlier, and… you’re… Queen Cobra…”

“Pffffff, no I’m not, that’s ridiculous.”

“You are! I saw you de-transform right in front of my eyes!”

Alright, so he did know. Seriously though, how had he managed to follow her here? She was very quick on her Heelys, he must have been outright sprinting to keep her within sight.

Which of course meant that he wanted to talk to her about all this…

Ugh. She didn’t really like talking to people much.

“Yeah, fine, it’s me,” she said, taking a quick glance round to make sure no one else was nearby to eavesdrop. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

He shook his head. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

There was an awkward silence for what seemed to stretch into hours, though was probably more like a few seconds. Yeah, this was why she didn’t like talking to people. No one ever knew what to say to her.

“Thank you for saving me,” he said quietly, at long last. “When the missiles were going off and the akuma army were attacking. I probably would have died if you didn’t get me out of there.”

Oh Adrien, always so polite, remembering his pleases and thank yous even while probably internally falling apart. It could not have been pleasant for him to know that his own father, as well as being the city’s most hated supervillain, was okay with endangering his own son just to have a chance to escape.

“Hey, it’s no problem,” she said.

Now another long, awkward silence. Yikes. This was the worst conversation ever, and she’d had a lot of bad conversations before.

Eventually Scoot just flew right out of her pocket muttering, “Oh for goodness’ sake, you can’t do anything right, can you!” He zoomed right up in front of Adrien’s face and said, “Hello Adrien, I am Scoot, if you have any questions about being a superhero then just ask me because this trainwreck of a classmate of yours is certainly not doing a good job of telling you anything.”

Adrien stumbled backwards slightly, a look of shock on his face. “What…”

“Yes, I’m real. No, you’re not dreaming.”

“Um…” Adrien recovered quickly, to his credit. “Nice to meet you… Scoot. But… who are you?”

“I am a kwami, a magical creature. I give Alix her powers when she transforms into Queen Cobra. I also attempt to give her advice in her daily life, which she refuses to pay attention to.”

“That’s ‘cause your advice is boring,” Alix said. “Anyway Adrien, got any questions? I may as well answer them.”

He just stared for a few seconds, seemingly still taking everything in. Then he said, “Who are Ladybug and Rena Rouge then?”

“I have no idea. They’re probably a lot better at keeping their identities hidden than I am. But then again, it’s their Miraculouses that Hawk Moth wanted, not mine…”

She trailed off, realizing that mentioning Hawk Moth around Adrien Agreste might just be a bad idea. Sure enough, at the mention of his father, a flicker of pain flashed across his eyes. Yeah okay, she was definitely going to have to start thinking before speaking around this kid.

“So I don’t know who they are,” she continued quickly. “I guess I might never find out now.”

“Are the heroes not ever coming back then?”

“No idea. I probably will, I mean, someone’s gotta stop the bank robberies and criminal gangs, right? But I don’t know if Ladybug and Rena will be back or not.”

“Oh… okay…” He thought for another few seconds. “How do you act so different?”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“Queen Cobra’s so majestic and aloof, and you’re… um… well…”

Indescribable, sure. She got that a lot.

“I do that on purpose,” she said. “Otherwise how stupidly easy is it gonna be to recognize me? I have pink hair, dude. Pink hair. And I skate a lot. And I’m tiny. As big as Paris is, there really aren’t that many people like me around.”

Anime protagonist was the phrase coming to mind. But the truth was, if there was a “protagonist”, it was either Ladybug or Rena. No one in their right mind would pick Queen Cobra as the number one hero of Paris, whether she looked like it as a civilian or not.

Adrien was still just staring, looking very much like he was about to cry. That was not good.

“You should probably go home and get some rest,” she suggested.

“I don’t want to go home.”

His fists were clenched now. Even more not good.

“Maybe call up Nino and talk to him?”

“Nino left for the airport several hours ago.”

Already? Jeez, the summer holidays had only just started today. In any case, Adrien’s fists were even more clenched now, and he was looking at the ground, furiously blinking tears away from his eyes. Poor boy… that ticking time bomb was probably seconds away from exploding.

“You need a cup of tea,” Alix said, stepping forwards and grabbing his arm. “Come on.”

“Where–”

“Shush. Just follow me.”

Without waiting for a reply, she pulled him right back into Fu’s shop with her. Fu didn’t even look surprised to see them – well, she had always suspected he was either really wise or secretly psychic, maybe both.

“Can we get this dude a cup of tea please?” she asked him. “He’s had a rough day.”

“Certainly,” Fu said, immediately pouring out another cup that he already seemed to have ready. Okay, he must be psychic. “Take a seat, Adrien.”

Adrien did not seem surprised that Fu already knew who he was. Then again, that might just have been because everyone knew Paris’s most famous fashion model, he was already used to being a celebrity. Bewildered, he did indeed sit down on the floor and silently took the cup of tea Fu handed to him.

“You gonna be alright now?” Alix asked.

Adrien just nodded politely, taking a small sip from the tea cup.

“Cool. I guess I’ll be heading off now. If you’ve got any other questions you can always ask me later.”

“Are you seriously leaving right now?” Scoot screeched, giving her a punch in the arm. “The Agreste child is on the verge of having a nervous breakdown thanks to today’s events, and you would just leave him here in the company of a stranger–”

“Be quiet!” She grabbed Scoot in her hands and tried to stop him talking. “If I don’t get back soon dad’s gonna be so mad, he’ll ground me again…”

“Excuses!”

“Shush!”

Adrien was looking up at them, seeming nervous. “It’s okay, you can leave, I… I’m sure I’m fine…”

He was certainly not fine. But what else was Alix meant to do? Just stay here and endure more of those awkward silences? Adrien was nice and all, but having to comfort him in such dramatic circumstances was well beyond her capabilities. The emotional, supportive side of being a superhero was never something she could get the hang of.

“Master Fu here will take care of you, he’s a cool bean,” she said quickly. “I really gotta go now. Call me if you need anything!”

She didn’t really mean that last bit. Calling her, on a phone, expecting her to answer and actually speak to someone, well that was the quickest way of getting on her nerves. But it was probably the kind of nonsensical reassuring thing he needed to hear right now, so she had just said it without thinking. Grabbing Scoot again and stuffing him in her pocket, she left for good this time.

All the way along the journey back home she had to deal with Scoot making snide remarks from inside her pocket, as usual, earning her weird looks from passers-by – though the weird looks may have been a combination of that, and also the fact that she was Heelying down the street in an area that had definitely banned Heelys. (It wasn’t like anyone cared, it was fine.)

Arriving back home was no fun either, her father immediately interrogating her on where she had been, had she been part of Hawk Moth’s final akuma army, all of that stuff. His faith in her had really nosedived since her birthday several months ago. Obviously she was not going to tell him what she had really been up to, and had to invent an excuse like always.

“I was just hanging out with my friends,” she said, shrugging.

(“Pffff, what friends?” Scoot muttered from inside her pocket.)

“The panther friend didn’t challenge you to another cornflake-eating contest again, did he?” her father asked, rather sternly. She had to hold back a laugh – panther friend, really? Was Kim such a hard name to remember?

“He’s not my friend, and no. I wasn’t doing anything bad, I swear.”

It was true, she technically hadn’t done anything bad. Saving Paris from a supervillain was one of the least bad things anyone could ever do, really.

“So who were you with?”

She picked two random classmates. “I was with Marinette and Alya, okay? Does this really matter?”

“I just want to be sure that you were safe.”

“Well clearly, I am perfectly safe and sound. Trust me dad, I’m not that irresponsible.” It was hard to be irresponsible when a whole city was counting on you to protect them – though to be fair, Ladybug and Rena were probably a whole lot more responsible that she was.

Her father sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Fine. But you need to stop running off all the time without letting me know where you’re going. Alright?”

“Yeah, fine.”

She carried on upstairs to where she found her brother, who was working on some nerdy history translation thing like he always was. As soon as he saw her he rushed over and wrapped her in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” Jalil screeched, much louder than he should have. “You and Ladybug and Rena saved the day and brought Hawk Moth to justice and–”

“Sure, just say it so loud that all of Paris can hear,” she muttered, though she grinned and hugged him back all the same. Thank goodness this was a large house. The chances that her father had overheard were low.

“Sorry, it was just so cool!” He finally let go and looked at her, pride shining in his eyes. “You’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh good. Let me know if you need anything. Want some more food for Scoot? Should I make something nice for dinner? Should we watch The Mummy, in celebration? Should–”

“It’s okay, I don’t want anything!” She pushed Scoot back into her pocket, where she could feel him starting to come out at the mention of food. He’d already eaten recently, and anyway, she hated anyone interrupting when she was speaking to her brother. Jalil was one of the only people in the world who she actually got along with easily.

“You don’t look that happy,” he said, his smile disappearing. “What’s wrong?”

“Adrien Agreste knows my secret identity.”

The smile was back within a few seconds. “Oh, well that’s not so bad! You said Adrien is the nicest kid in your class, right?”

“Nah, that’s Rose. But Adrien’s already freaking out about his dad being a supervillain, so…”

“Wait, Hawk Moth is his dad?!... Agreste… Oh yes, I see, I just hadn’t realized…”

“And he probably is going totally nuts right now and has no one to turn to,” she continued. “I kinda just left him at Fu’s place and then came back here.”

Scoot had been fighting against her fingers and finally managed to fly out. “Yes, because you’re a selfish stubborn no-good who refuses to comfort someone in need!”

“Chill out, snekki,” she said, about to give him a jab in the side but quickly pulled her fingers back when she saw him baring his fangs. “I tried. But I’m no good at that stuff, I would have just made it worse. I’m not gentle enough. I always… y’know… break stuff.”

Jalil put a hand on her shoulder. “Alix, a person and a pocket watch are not the same. I’m sure whatever little you did must have helped him, in whatever small way.”

“If you say so…”

“Anyway, do you want to tell me all about today’s superhero adventure now? I can’t wait to hear the details!”

Yeah, that would be better. Recounting the dramatic break into the Agreste mansion would be entertaining enough, even if the whole story would be up on the Ladyblog pretty soon anyway. Jalil always liked to hear the adventures from Alix herself. It was nice really, having someone to chat to about it. And even nicer to know that one of her relatives, at least, didn’t care if she was “irresponsible” or getting into danger or trouble. Jalil would always be there for her.

#miraculous ladybug #alix kubdel #adrien agreste #master fu #no one else important yet #random stuff #aish writes #snek #queen cobra

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rosalynbair · 7 years

Text

Don’t say it

Words: 2035 Summary: Reader loves Hux, but he doesn’t want to hear it. Warnings: Swearing

“Officer” A strong voice rang, it was always commanding, harsh, yet it never rose above a specific octave. He never raised his voice. You turned, facing the red haired man, his hands folded behind his back. A grim line where his lips were. “Yes General?” You say, nodding to him. “I expect that you will be joining me for dinner tonight?” Hux asks, of course, he never had to ask. You spent dinner together most nights, unless of course, you were swamped with work. “You expect right” You tell him, giving him a small smile. He nods, wanting to kiss your cheek, but he knew it would be wildly inappropriate. He turns away, returning to his post on the bridge, watching over the room. You work quietly on the files you oversaw. At one point, you picked up a file and your data pad, leaving the room quietly going to drop the file off to another general from a different sector. When you returned, Hux was leafing through your work, reading your notes and changes to some of the drafts he had given you. “General” You say, standing beside him “Is everything alright?” “Yes, I am simply observing” He replies, glancing over to you. He thought you were beautiful. You were perfect in every way for him. You matched him in intelligence, wit, political views, and even temper. You both fought and argued, but you loved him fiercely. He matched your feelings, but he had been so emotionally traumatized when he was growing up, that he didn’t know what love felt like. You knew when you first kissed him, that you’d fall in love with him. He was everything you had ever wanted in a partner. He was your equal in so many ways. He was everything to you, you worshiped him when you were in his private rooms. You ate dinner and spoke of politics and the upcoming events planned for the First Order. You’d sit with each other and read together or work on files that needed to be done. Often, you’d make love before going to bed. You were always gone first, since your own things were in your own small bedroom. You never left anything of yours in Hux’s room, it was too personal. You very rarely ever stayed the entire night, too many people called upon Hux in the morning, you didn’t want to be caught there. When you had finished your duties for the day, you packed up your files, placing them away in a neat manner, grabbing the few that you needed to spend more time on. You shut down your station, leaving quietly to your room, which you shared with three others. Two boys and a girl. Hux loathed the arrangement, but he had no control over worker’s sleeping quarters. You punched in your code at your bedroom, the door opening with a loud hiss. You set the files on your small cot, going and stripping from your jumpsuit, grabbing a pair of casual pants and a tank top and sweater. You brushed out your hair, pinning it away from your face. You quickly slipped on your flats, grabbing the files and starting the journey to Hux’s living quarters. It was a long walk. All Generals and superiors had large living quarters on the opposite end of the ship as the workers. It often took you a good thirty minutes to get there…If you were speed walking. You weren’t this time, walking casually and stopping to speak to one of your friends from the engineering sector, rolling your eyes as he told you of Ren’s most recent tantrum that destroyed half the control panels in the Command Shuttle. Overall, it took an hour to reach Hux’s door. You raised your hand, your heart fluttering as you placed a gentle knock on his door. Every time you showed up to Hux’s quarters, it always felt like the first time. You were holding the files close to your body when Hux opened the door, inviting you in politely. You nod, looking around the hall before stepping in. It wasn’t until the door was closed once more that you relaxed your shoulders, moving and setting the manila folders onto the small coffee table in front of the uncomfortable grey couch. “I ordered us dinner” Hux said quietly, there was something hidden in his voice that made you turn around. You took in your lover, he had removed the gel from his hair, leaving it looking soft and slightly tousled, he wore black lounging pants and a black tshirt with a dark grey cardigan over top, buttoned up to the second button, leaving his pale neck exposed. His face was slightly pink from washing it with cold water and the moisturizer he used twice a day. His feet were bare, you often hated feet. But damn this beautiful man, even his feet were attractive. “You’re staring dearest” He says, walking to the table and pulling out a chair for you, a silent invitation to come over and sit down. You walk over, standing beside him and placing a gentle kiss to his jaw line -also known as the only thing you could reach on him without him leaning down. You take a seat, watching his confident and steady movements as he walked to his own chair, sitting down almost silently, removing the covers from the food. “I ordered fish from your home planet, I recalled you saying that you missed alcohol fish” He says, lifting up his fork and knife. “Ale battered fish” You correct him with a smile. “Thank you Hux” “Anything for you” He says quietly, searching your face. He had noticed subtle changes in you in the last few months, you seemed excited to see him, your cheeks turned rosy every time he was within a certain proximity of you. He knew it wasn’t because you were aroused, that rosiness often crept up your neck to your cheeks, this blush spread from the bridge of your cute little nose out to where your cheekbones met your hairline. He noticed you shifting closer every time he spoke to you, it was always subtle, most didn’t notice your modest distance turning into a closeness only lovers shared. He noticed how you stared at him for a lengthy time, as if you were seeing him for the first time every day. He saw your eyes soften each time he came into your field of vision. He noticed you staying longer at night, and he noticed your gentleness towards him. Only the stars knew how much you two had disliked each other at first, that hadn’t changed until he was locked in a small, unused office with you due to the punch pad being faulty. You had ended up bickering with each other before he had advanced towards you. He didn’t have personal experience with the emotion you were showing him. He had been emotionally neglected all throughout his upbringing, leaving him almost emotionless save for his anger and bitterness. He had no time for any tenderness towards anyone when he was still a general. “Hux?” You ask, “Are you listening?” He blinks, not realizing that you had been talking. “Apologies dearest, I seem to have had my mind blank on me” He says, looking up from his picked apart food. “Please eat, you didn’t eat last night” You say, cutting up the last piece of your fish, concern showing on your features. “Yes, I was busy last night” He chuckled, remembering you squirming beneath his hot breath and feather light fingers. You flush, the redness raising up your neck as you look down, scooping up some rice and fish, sticking it in your mouth. You finish your dinner quietly, picking up the dishes and setting them on the tray, putting them beside the door in the hallway before returning to the room, seeing Hux resting on the stiff couch, legs crossed at the knee as he flipped through the files you brought to work on. You trek over, curling up on the couch, leaning against the slender man. “It’s the report on ordering new parts for the Command Shuttle that Ren destroyed this morning” You tell him, you could hear his mental groan. “That blasted man will be the death of my collected calm” Hux grumbles, turning his head as you started to pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw, resting his eyes as he captured your lips. He felt you smile against his lips, taking the file from his hand and setting it on the table haphazardly. His hands move to your hips, trailing down to your thighs as he transferred you onto his lap, you bum resting on his thighs, just above his knees. “I’ll never tire of your lips” He whispered, nuzzling your cheek with his perfectly straight nose. He smiles as he hears your little giggle. You lean in again, pecking his lips softly before moving down and kissing his neck, nipping right where his neck met his shoulder. You felt him lurch slightly. “You’re tense Hux” You whisper, feeling how tight his shoulders were “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep yourself held so stiffly” “I’m the general” He responds. “I know what position you hold” You mutter “If you recall, you refused to let me call you anything but General for months when we became lovers” “I believed this to be temporary” He responds, letting out a groan when you dug your fingers into his shoulder. You roll your eyes “Temporary my ass. No one fucks someone like you fucked me for it to only be temporary” “Hush” He sighs, arching his back, leaning towards you ass you rubbed his shoulders, watching them slowly slouch. You smile, kissing his cheek as you massaged his shoulders roughly, examining his small muscle movements as he slowly relaxed. “There we go” You whisper, his eyes closing at your touch, his lips parting slightly. You were ecstatic to know that you were the only one who had ever seen, and ever will see this part of Armitage Hux, the beautiful broken man. You adored him. You loved him. “Come to bed” He whispered, feeling your arms wrap around his shoulders, his hands hold your thighs, standing up swiftly. He was a thin man, but he was much stronger and more athletic than he looked. You rest your head on your arm, letting out a small yawn, letting him set you gently on the bed. He watched as you crawled to the right side, shimmying under the silk sheets, eyeing him as he flipped the sheets back and climbing in, settling in before wrapping and arm around you. “Hux?” You whispered, eyes closed. “Yes?” He replied, kissing the nape of your neck, pushing your hair away so he could nuzzle your shoulder. “I have something I need to tell you” “What is its nature?” “Emotions” He stiffens against you, his arm tightening around your waist. “Hux… I – I lo-“ You start. “Please don’t say that you love me” He begs, pain seeping through his words. “But Hux, I-“ You start, only for him to interrupt you again. “No, I am asking you as your General, not your lover, to not say that you love me” He says, his voice clear in the silent room. “But –“ “No, Y/N” He snaps “Do not say it.” You fall into silence, shuffling away from his body that was curled around you, You huddle on your side of the bed, away from him. Your hip brushed the edge of the bed. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for what seemed like hours. Hux had shifted to his vampire-like position on his back. You had assumed he had fallen asleep, so you slip from under the blanket, walking to the table and grabbing the files, leaving your shoes on the floor as you left the room, the door closing with a hiss and a thud. You walked silent back to your room, shaking your head as your breath hitched, a tear leaving the corner of your eye as you tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to wrack your body.

#star wars imagine #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux imagine #hux x reader #general hux #aarmitage hux imagine #general hux x reader

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daisyachain · 7 years

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This is completely unedited and moderately incoherent, but here we are! DGM rarepair week, day 2

Fandom: D.Gray-Man Rating: T-ish for violence, gore, nonexistent plot and Kanda being emotionally insensitive Pairings: Edit: I left it unclear to fit the mysterious prompt but it’s Kanda/Daisya

Total Words: 3.7k

Allen, Johnny, and Kanda are on the world’s worst roadtrip chasing after the Noah and some answers in a timeline parallel to this latest arc, when they run into a rather unwelcome guest. This is somewhat of a rehash of what happened with Alma, but it serves to highlight just how similar the two characters are, and it was mostly a 'what if' scenario.

A church bell faintly rolled the hour, though it didn’t feel like they’d been out for so long.

Johnny had insisted they stop for dinner, saying he wasn’t going to be dealing with both Allen and Kanda on an empty stomach. They all knew it was bullshit, and that he just wanted to them to take care of themselves, so no one complained.

The food in the town’s inn had been the usual, solid stuff, nothing to write home about, but something that would get you through a good couple of hours of chasing down the ultimate source of evil in the world and hoping they didn’t find you first. Then, they’d hit the road again, and coming up on…was it two hours later? Three? Allen had been sure it was closer to two, but it was too dark to check the watch by torchlight, but they’d set out just past the hour. The bell was slow, but Allen decided to count.

One.

It was a sleepy part of the country, even here, and they walked down a broad dusty avenue through the centre, to the central square. It was starting to get cold, and even the light from one or two streetlamps was sucked into the black night, which showed no sign of stars.

Two.

Allen and Johnny fell back behind Kanda, who was quiet for once. No snapping at them to hurry up, or slow down, or stop damn well talking amongst themselves.

Three.

“We’ve made some good time,” said Johnny beside him. “See? It was good that we stopped. Otherwise we’d just be miserable and hungry, now.”

Four.

“You’re right, Johnny.” Allen smiled at him in reassurance, to make sure he didn’t worry. He knew that he was nervous about him, how quiet he was now.

Five.

“Awful quiet, though, for a town this big.”

“Hmm.”

Six.

Allen’s eyes narrowed, doing a quick check-over of the shops and houses on either side. No akuma in sight. There were lights on, and some moving shadows, the roar of voices and the chink of plates from inside, but…

Seven.

“Speaking of which, it looks like we’re the only ones out travelling tonight.”

“I guess everyone else already got in.”

“Yeah.”

Eight.

In front of them, Kanda had been slowing down his pace, and now he fell into step beside Allen.

“Can you activate your Innocence without showing it?” he murmured, far to calm to be the usual Kanda.

“Of course,” Allen whispered in retort. “What’s going on?”

Nine. That should have been the last bell, unless he’d completely messed up with the counting.

“Just take care of Johnny if shit goes down, and find somewhere to hide.”

“Hey, I can fight—”

The last chime didn’t go away. It held, and Allen could swear it started to resonate. And grow louder.

“Shut up!” hissed Kanda, suddenly furious.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

And louder, with a tone that set Allen’s teeth on edge.

“Just do what I tell you, and do it now!”

The world shattered in Allen’s ears as he and Johnny went flying from Kanda’s shove.

“Ugh—”

Allen jumped to his feet, Innocence at the ready, then paused. Kanda had pushed them — thrown them — into a wooden shop door, and now Allen could see why: the street’s windows had exploded in a storm of broken glass. The light was dim here, but every last bit of it glittered off the shrapnel that covered the streets, and…

“Kanda! You all right?”

“Get inside!”

He’d been clever enough to shield himself with his coat, but cuts still covered Kanda’s face.

“What about you?” Johnny shouted out from beside him, more winded than he was.

But Allen had already grabbed him by the collar and kicked open the door, loose from the first time they’d slammed into it.

“He’ll be fine,” he said, letting go and shutting the door behind them, searching for a bolt. “I don’t know how, but he knows what’s going on.”

The building hadn’t been used in a few days at least, but it looked to be a shop — Allen took a quick look to make sure the merchandise wasn’t breakable, then swept it on to the floor and dragged a few tables closer to the door. Then, leaving just enough room to sneak out, he dashed back to the window to have a look outside.

“Allen? What’s — do you have any idea what’s going on?” Jonny was shaking just a bit, and he couldn’t blame him. What had Kanda known?

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know anything more than you,” he said, craning his neck a bit. Damn — Kanda was looking away, but whatever he was staring at was firmly out of view.

“What’s our plan, then? I can make a pretty good barricade if you give me a few minutes.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

What had Kanda meant with all that mysterious stuff? Protect Johnny had seemed to be the gist of it. Allen glanced over — the guy seemed to be on it already, checking over the tables for where the joints were.

“Got it. I’ll get to work—”

“Wait — I’ll go outside and guard the door, and you can cover up the windows from the inside.”

Whether it was an akuma, Innocence, or God forbid a Noah, it was able to do some damage with the shattered glass.

“And you’re sure you’ll be fine?”

“Of course! Kanda hates losing, so he’d never let anything happen.” Allen gave what he hoped was a cheery wink, and stepped outside.

“Good luck!”

The door shut quietly behind him, and he looked out on to the glass-strewn street. Each of the half-timber houses seemed to loom crookedly over the scene, gables seeming far away in the darkness. Overhead, clouds gathered to form the grey-tinged blackness that had settled on them like treacle, thick and numbing. The glass panes of the lamps had shattered, leaving wrought-iron thorns sticking up into the night.

“Come on!” A playful voice rang out, sounding just slightly to metallic for a young man. “You know it’s me, so just say my name.”

Allen’s eyes focused on the situation in front of him, each taking in a different set of information. Oh, shit.

His right saw Kanda standing stock still, sword drawn but by his side, everything else blending into a tall and coal-black figure, just outlined against the slate sky.

The left saw his opponent more clearly, perched up on one of the rooftops like some sort of cat, hanging over the side — a level 3, with the kind of concentrated agony that reached back into Allen’s mind and gave him a toothache last year, and two weeks into the future. Just pure, concentrated pain, and a very loud laugh to drown it out.

“You’re dead.” Kanda’s voice hung low, grinding along like metal on a whetting stone.

“Nope!” The akuma seemed to be amused by this, bouncing up and down, and then unfolding its limbs for a hop down to the ground, flipping up and over as it did.

“I mean,” said Kanda, quieter now, “You’re going to die.”

Even Allen felt the words slide down his throat like ice. There was no heat in Kanda’s anger, if it could be called anger.

The akuma’s spiked teeth just pulled back into a smile.

Like most level 3s it was something of man, something of machine, but this one was also a bit more animal. Two long and sturdy legs, striped vertically around the knees stuck out from a shroud that covered the torso and the arms, and most of the face as well. There was a spring in its movement and a laughter in its — not its voice, but the sound that came from it.

Its hood obscured everything but the mouth running gash-like across its face.

And now, with the body glowing slightly, Allen could see a large red splotch on its cloak, just on the left side of its chest.

“You would never kill me—”

Mugen stabbed into the space where its chest had been, and swept a path under where its legs had stood.

But in that sliver of a second it had let itself fall backwards and roll, springing out of it as if this was all going to plan. What did it mean, Kanda would never kill it? What the hell was it?

“—and it won’t be for lack of tryin’.”

“Shut up.”

Kanda swung the sword again, sending out a wave of pests, but the level 3 was getting bored.

“You should know me better than that, Kanda! Besides, aren’t you wondering why I’m here? I should have been burned and buried!”

It dodged the attack and then held its hands about stomach height, balled together, then drew them apart — this was it! There was the noise of a bell, getting louder and louder—

There was an explosion, and the house the level 3 had perched on collapsed in on itself, forming a new pile of rubble.

“Wanna dance? If you just say you remember who I am,” it continued, cajoling now, “I’ll tell you who it was, you know, that called me back.”

Kanda just strode slowly towards it as it twirled, and extended an arm theatrically out of its cloak. Maybe it had been an actor, when its soul had belonged to a human, or a some other type of entertainer.

“Die.”

Another spirit attack, far too slow to catch the akuma. It seemed to have forgotten that it was here to hunt Allen, for the moment. He probably should have been relieved.

BOOM

Another thundering noise, scattered here and there with the bright sparks of shattering glass, sounded as the akuma collapsed a building on to where Kanda had been standing.

“Just say my name,” the thing said, and each word rang out louder, backed by the chime of a bell. “Do it. Do it!”

It flitted around Kanda, throwing up clouds of debris with its abilities, and working up a cloud — yes, Allen realized, it was trying to cut him off.

He was about to reconsider, and run in to help, when suddenly the noise stopped. Not just the sound of the bell, but the scuffling on feet on the ground, and the muffled sounds of heavy breathing.

“Shut. Up.”

Kanda had unleashed a barrage of black ghosts, seething in a circle around him to eat away the dust.

“You were nothing to me then.”

He stared blankly at the thing that had stopped to listen, frozen in its place.

“And you are nothing now.”

Mugen’s blade withdrew, and reformed, levelled at the akuma’s throat.

Over the course of seconds, his spirits disappeared, fading back into darkness. Somehow, Allen felt as if he were watching a play, some scripted performance play out. Both the fighters made sure to have time to throw insults back and forth, and stand still in the newfound silence of the night.

Yes, it was silent. But just a moment later, Allen heard it break — clumsily. Nothing dramatic about it.

There was just the soft, then louder, shameful and strangled sound of crying.

It carried on, quiet sobbing at first, then a wail, and then just seconds later it crescendoed into a scream — into two words, ripped out from the akuma’s lungs.

“I know!”

It took a blind leap at Kanda, swinging a fist instead of shooting bullets or creating its explosions.

“It was my little sister!” It shouted.

Allen placed the words in his mind alongside the others that this thing had spoken, trying to piece together what it wanted. Was it like Eliade, whose shattered memories changed and rearranged themselves?

Kanda, meanwhile, had caught its blow easily, and redirected it into a throw — and yet, this akuma must have had some training in its life. It twisted and managed to kick out at Kanda’s kneecap, sending them both tumbling. Was Kanda really humouring it that much?

“You bastards tried to hide it from her, didn’t you? But she’s so much fucking smarter than you! Takes after her brother, don'tcha think?The fight wore on, each of the akuma’s blows meeting perfect blocks, but now it honestly fought. The moment Kanda was close to something — aaaugh! Chunks of wood and plaster, stone and brick ripped out from the structures on that side.

"And I looked for you. I found you. I followed you all, through everything, I stayed with you, when I was still level 1. And you know what?”

A swift hip throw slammed it down on a wood spar that shoved through its chest with a sickening sound. Still, it managed to escape the chokehold, pulling out the spar, and held it up like a club.

“You didn’t miss me!” it yelled, punctuating each phrase with a swing. “You didn’t even remember me! I waited so fucking long, just to hear you say something, but…”

Its voice faded suddenly, snuffed out by a burst of effort. Finally it got past Kanda’s oddly loose defenses, scoring a blow that landed with a hollow noise on the back of his skull.

“…you never even said my name.”

Without the sound of battle to cloud it, Allen heard again the scratched voice of a boy about to cry.

A boy that now collapsed over Kanda, pinning him down…shit. Kanda was beaten. Now it was his job to get that obnoxious bastard out of this mess.

Was he really that tired? Was it a Noah? Or, to Allen’s sneaking suspicion was he just playing along?

He took a couple of deep breaths, and tensed his muscles, ready for the fight. It would be over quickly, even with that explosion ability.

“Innocence—”

“Stay the fuck out of this, Walker!”

Kanda yelled — screamed — him down before he’d even pulled out a Crown Clown, but Allen just had to trust him. After that business with Alma, he should have learned his lesson.

“Just hurry up, all right?” he yelled back into the street.

Kanda still lay there, at the akuma’s mercy, the spar hovering over where his throat must have been.

“Grab Johnny, and backtrack. I’ll end it.”

Allen let himself spend another moment in complete confusion, then nodded to himself.

He did not look back.

…

Kanda watched the two of them go. Allen was too much of a fucking goody-two-shoes to be trusted.

Besides, it wasn’t hard to keep the akuma at bay. No bullets, no ability, it was still trying to stick him through the throat with nothing more than brute strength. He had the edge. It had a hole in its chest.

For most of the fight, he hadn’t been able to see its face, between how fast they were moving and the hood’s shadow. He hadn’t wanted to see.

It was clear as fucking crystal that this wasn’t a fake.

But now, he couldn’t deny it any more. Not as human as Alma, no, but a level 3 that looked too real. The mechanical semblance of a face was twisted into an expression he recognized.

“Get off me.”

“Shut up,” it croaked.

Kanda wondered if those were somehow real tears, or just some clever mechanism.

It shouldn’t have mattered. This smartass akuma was still just as weak as any other. It didn’t have the skill to beat him, even without the sloppy blows and missed openings.

But…

“That’s my line, dumbass.”

“I said, shut up!”

The akuma punctuated the sentence with strikes that Kanda could have blocked. He’d heal up soon enough.

There was something boiling up in him that he had no name for. The feeling when old man Zhu told him the truth. When he saw Marie and Lena standing there, and knew that they understood him, and how much he had wanted to die, and knew he’d dragged himself back into a miserable life out of nothing but guilt.

Gently, just a bit at first, then more fully, Kanda smiled, and lifted a hand to the thing’s cheek, brushing aside what looked like tears.

“Daisya.”

It took little effort to then snap what might have been its neck and kick it off, then slam it into the ground to reverse their positions. The blood that trickled out of a cut on his cheek flowed, and took Mugen’s form.

Now Kanda knelt over that mechanical body, and pushed the hood fully away, exposing the face to what little light there was. The tattoos beneath its eyes were now holes in the metallic outer shell, and the bandages that stuck in Kanda’s memory were merely painted on. Hollow, a shell full of meaning but empty inside. But the scars and mottled, uneven skin were the same as ever, and the one rusted earring left over from an impulsive act at age 7 and a stubborn need to be cool that had stayed into their teens.

The careless collection of features was still set in an expression Kanda had rarely seen up close before, unlike the grin his mind painted over this face. It looked disgusting.

“After all that talking, I thought you’d have something to say now.”

The akuma finally snapped out of it, and rolled its eyes at him.

“You could at least let me get my head on straight, first.”

It reached its arms up to about ear level when Kanda released them, and set it in place, broken bones — no, components — healing with a crackling noise.

“That’s disgusting.”

One of the cold hands reached up to brush the bangs out of his eyes, but he didn’t flinch.

“Your face is disgusting.”

“So your sister called you back. Did you kill her?”

“Nope. Didn’t have much use for a body. She’s a good kid, you know. Oh, wait, of course you do. You’re the one who told her I fucking kicked it, ‘cos you guys didn’t care enough to come get me. You heard it, didn’t you? I had my golem on during all of it, so you shoulda had a good bunch of screaming in your ear. Must’ve been fun for Marie! He mentioned me, you know. He remembered.”

Kanda kept Mugen hovering over the akuma’s throat, steady at about an inch away. His expression was flat.

“I heard you, and the Noah.”

“That fuckin’ hat-wearing bastard. I’d thank you for kicking his ass like a dutiful teammate, but you only did that when Lena got involved. Hah! Don’t think I heard anything from her, either, but she’s always hung up on one thing or another, so I’m just going to say that she still remembers me. You can trust her, like that.”

The thing grinned up at him. “So, you gonna kill me now? Or poke another hole in me?”

“You haven’t even gotten to the point, yet.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

If this conversation had been when they were thirteen, and gangly, and sharing tiny straw mattresses between the two of them and whoever else was on the mission, it would have been funny.

Now, it just gave Kanda the cold comfort of knowing that whatever else, this thing did have Daisya’s memories.

“Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay.” The akuma sighed. “We were kind of family, at the Order, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Seven years, we were together. But, did you ever love me?”

Seven years of night trains and cover identities, tattered uniforms and stolen hair ties, ripping up the sheets to bandage wounds and carrying Daisya in the rain, for three days because the akuma were circling and his leg was broken and badly healed with Kanda’s blood.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You didn’t cry, didn’t mourn, I don’t think you noticed it. Marie did, but you never even said my name.”

Travelling for days on end, stopping only for akuma and the occasional hour of sleep, staring at a girl in a tourist town with sharp eyes and messy brown hair, buying a trinket and leaving the next day. Tracking Cross’ inscrutable movements through snow and wind with barely a word passed between them. No quarter in battle against Tyki, or against Bolic.

“Maybe.”

It started crying again, but with a smile on its face.

“It hurts, you know. I remember pretty damn clearly, I still thought you’d save me. I still thought you’d at least, I don’t know, try.”

Age fourteen, tearing a slit down his wrist, letting the blood drip on to a broken body hoping that it would be enough to heal whatever this was. Age eighteen, boots skidding on the cobblestones as they ran, seeing the body just as light dawned. Take care of him. It was a dead body, but the words had still needed to be said. Protect him, where I failed.

“…”

There had been some kind of response lined up, but the words choked out in his throat.

Age sixteen, in the snow, grinning at a dumb joke and holding hands, waiting for the train.

He shifted position, coming to kneel beside the akuma, and not over it, smiling despite himself.

“Kanda?”

Not again. He sat the akuma’s battered body up, wrapping an arm around its shoulders, and leaned back, against a pile of rubble.

No one would ever see him in the darkness. No one would ever hear him in the void. They was fifteen again, stupid and still somehow naive enough to give a damn.

“I’ll save you this time, Daisya.”

“So, does this mean…”

“I did.”

…

Kanda didn’t show up until the next day. Johnny asked about it, worried, but Allen knew better.

That night belonged to Kanda.

#kanda yuu #dgmrarepair2k17 #dgrayrarepair #d gray man #d.gray-man #allen walker #johnny gill #the latter two show up and i use allen as a neutral pov but i'm afraid they don't play a big role

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singingunderthecurtain · 7 years

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DIAMOND (CEO AU Baekhyun Series) Part 5

Also on AFF

Previous Chapters (1) (2) (3) (4)

Photo not mine, found it on Google.

Author: @julietsoddeye AU: CEO!Baekhyun Genre: Angst | Smut | Romance Pairing: Baekhyun x Lee Soojin (You/OC) Trigger Warning: Smut on future chapters. Mentions of car accident. Mentions of being blind. Baekhyun being an a-hole. Word Count: 2,203

Plot: After 10 years of exile to another country, you are finally back home and you were surprised to find out that you are engaged to the son of your father's long-time friend and business partner.

Diamond Mini Masterlist

“I can’t believe you’re actually moving in with Jongdae?!?!?!” Hisako’s jaw drops while Yanmei starts messily packing her stuff inside her suitcase and duffle bag.

You and Mia, cradling Yanmei’s millions of skincare and makeup stuff in your arms, are helping your friend move just 2 doors down from her original shared bedroom. It hasn’t been 2 hours after their, uh, getting-to-know stage and Jongdae already asked her to move in his room for the rest of the vacation. You guess she really did something good to Jongdae or he’s just a really easy guy to manipulate. You believe it’s the latter, but who cares. Now you have a spy so you can find out stuff about Baekhyun without him noticing anything.

“Oh my gosh Hisa, why are you so dramatic? I’m only moving into his room, not his house! We’re probably going to forget about each other after we get back to America…” Yanmei rolls her eyes and smiles at you with malice. You smiled back with the same expression she gave you.

“Sooj, are you really allowing this? What if that guy ruins Mei-mei for good? Like emotionally I mean because we all know she’s already ruined physically.” Hisako clears her throat as she masks a laughter with her own remark, but after recovering her face turned sour again as if she drank spoiled milk.

“Bitch.” Yanmei hissed silently at Hisako’s remark.

“Hisa, if anything it will be the other way around and you know that.” You said in a matter-of-fact tone, stuffing all the products you have in your arms inside your friend’s bag. It’s true Jongdae will probably be emotionally attached to Yanmei, asking her to move into his bedroom is a clear sign that she’s got him under her spell already.

“Ms. Hisa, I’m sure Ms. Mei can handle herself well.” Mia tried coaxing Hisa as she rubs her arms soothingly, the same she always does to you when you panic about something. Hisa smiled sadly at Mia, her face not relaxing one bit.

“See, even Mia knows me and it’s been, what, only 4 days since we met her.” Yanmei gave Mia a ‘thank you’ grin and Mia replied with a thumb’s up.

“Look Hisa think of it this way, you have more room to stretch your long-ass limbs on the bed now.” You held both of Hisako’s arms as you shake her a little bit.

“Just trust me; I know what I’m doing. I mean how many frat boys have cried on my feet while we just casually stroll along the university as we travel to and fro between classes?” Yanmei purses her lips as she reminds her friend of those funny moments.

“A lot,” Hisa said while silently counting the men Yanmei disregard like trash. A lot of those guys are trash anyways; Yanmei is just giving those guys a taste of their own medicine.

“And how many times have I cried because of a guy?” Yanmei asked again.

“Not counting that one time you cried when Jack froze to death on that ocean, that bitch Rose didn’t share that plank with him. Nope, you never cry because of any guy.” The defeat in Hisako’s voice made Yanmei dance slightly in celebration.

__________

You were planning on locking yourself in your room again and just continue reading your book, but Jongdae, Yanmei, and Jongin convinced you to join them outside. The boys were barbecuing assortments of meats and sausages and Hisako whipped up her delicious avocado and kimchi salad. You can’t say no to that and it’s been a long time since you last ate it.

“Get a fucking room!” Chanyeol hisses and shoots daggers at Yanmei and Jongdae’s direction. Yanmei is comfortably sitting on Jongdae’s lap as she feeds him the meat, kimchi, and rice she wrapped with perilla leaf and lettuce.

“Oh, we will do that later, don’t worry Chanyeol.” The ever quick-witted Yanmei hoots with a teasing grin. Jongin, Sehun, and Baekhyun roar with laughter while Jongdae almost choked on the wrap, with what Yanmei said.

“They already got a room this morning.” Hisako loudly whispers with a scoff, sporting the same frown as Chanyeol, causing more laughter from the three guys and Yanmei.

“Ew,” Chanyeol replies with a sour face.

“I know right?” Hisako reiterates.

“How about you two get a room instead?” Yanmei teases, making Jongdae cough and spill the beer from his mouth to his chin and down his shirt. Yanmei quickly grabs a paper towel and dab the absorbent material to clean her new boy toy up. Chanyeol and Hisako’s cheeks blushed simultaneously, shutting them completely up.

“Ohohooo look at Yeollie and Hisako blushing!” Baekhyun teased along while flipping burgers and samgyeopsal with Sehun, giggling like an idiot beside him in front of the grill.

“They totally like each other!!!” Jongin jived along, making lewd kissing sounds. Chanyeol threw a piece of baby potato at Jongin but he dodged it quickly.

“Hisa and Chanyeol? I totally ship that!” Yanmei picks on some more, sticking out her tongue at the fuming Hisako.

“Shut up, shut up!” Hisako folds her arms against her chest and frowned like a child.

“Where can I get friends like yours, Soojin?” Jongin asks you with an obnoxious howling laughter.

“America apparently.” You shrug and answer his question with a silent laugh.

“Soojin-ssi, can I talk to you privately for a few minutes?” Mia slightly taps your shoulder as she whispers in your ear.

“Sure Mia.” You said as you stand from your seat. The bantering of your friends slowly dissipates in the background as you both trudge along away from them.

“I just talked to the private investigator we hired. They already found information of your brother’s whereabouts, including contact information. I’ll give you his number so you can talk to him.” Mia excitedly announces but with a hushed tone, as if someone will hear her.

“Oh my gosh that’s great news, Mia! Thank you so much.” You spread your arms and wrap them up on her smaller frame. Mia hugs you back as she pats your back soothingly.

“We better get back to them and discuss the details later,” Mia said as both of you pull away from the hug.

“Yeah. I just hope he’ll talk to me. The last time we had a conversation was two years ago. He told me about the girl he met and fell in love with. I miss my oppa.” You smiled thinking about that memory. You and your brother were close and he was the only one in the family you kept in contact with besides your mother.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” Mia sympathetically smiled at you. The same smile she always gives you whenever you talk about your fucked up life with her.

__________

You know that feeling of being followed? Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re experiencing right now. You don’t even dare look behind you, afraid of seeing a sea monster of some sort. As ridiculous as it sounds and being a fucking grown up who does Hapkido really well, there is something about mythical creatures that scare you a little bit. Well more like, amazes you in a way. You’ve always wanted to be a mermaid when you were young. In college and up until recently, you’ve colored your hair crazy colors. (You and Yanmei always love bleaching your hair until you’re both bald) But since you’re now in the corporate world; your mother made you color your hair back to black.

“Soojinnie…” Much to your disappointment, it was only Baekhyun following you, not a sea monster. And what the hell, did he just call you “Soojinnie”? You pretended not to hear anything and ignored him, and continue your night stroll.

“Are you really still ignoring me?” Baekhyun said again, now walking beside you. The desperation in his voice made you twirl your head towards him and regretted it immediately because he’s smiling, really adorably, down at you. It almost made you wanna smile back, but you remembered that you hated his guts and he hates you back and he’s obviously faking it, which is really weird because you’re alone right now. Unless your parents secretly wired both of you so they can spy your every conversation.

“Are we being followed? Do they have some sort of invisible camera floating in the air and following us around on this island?” You scowl at Baekhyun and he tilts his head to the side, his face getting eaten by confusion.

“What?” He asks with a laugh. A laugh that is genuinely happy? Definitely a first from Baekhyun.

“Don’t talk to me as if we’re friends, Baekhyun. We only pretend when we’re in front of our parents and other people.” You look ahead of you now and pick up your pace, Baekhyun following close behind you.

“Look Soojin, I’m trying to be nice here. Don’t test my patience.” Baekhyun suddenly grabs your arm, twirling you around so you can face him.

“Don’t touch me Baekhyun!” You tried pulling your arm away from him but his grip tightened and you wince slightly.

“I told you to cooperate with me, didn’t I?” Baekhyun says through gritted teeth, you can almost see smoke coming out of his nose and ears with anger.

“I am fucking cooperating!” You screech and a tear rolled down your face, still shaking and pulling your arm off his grip.

“Then why are you being such a bitch?” He shrieked back at you and your free hand involuntarily reach out to slap his cheek really hard, making him twist his head to the side.

Baekhyun’s face flushed, the part you hit redder than the rest and he returns his gaze to you, his eyes fuming with rage. That’s it, his thin ice of a tolerance is now broken. You can feel his anger radiate through the cold and humid night air, his sharp eyes not blinking one bit.

When Baekhyun’s other hand suddenly grabbed the back of your head, you instantly closed your eyes, awaiting your incoming demise. But your legs turned into jello when you felt his lips crashed onto yours. You tried wiggling off, but his grip tightened even more and his tongue pried your mouth open.

You let out a tiny whimper, you’re not sure if it’s out of fear or lust when his tongue swipes with yours. His hand that was previously gripping your arm is now snaked around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. The heat of his body made your hands to grudgingly grip his hair. He moaned into your mouth as you did so and a quick burst of fervor made your stomach whir.

One thing led to another, you are now sitting, legs intertwined under Baekhyun’s on the cold sand still kissing. Slowly Baekhyun started palming your breasts over the thin cloth of your bikini top. That feat made you jolt back to life and you abruptly pull away from his lips. Baekhyun groaned at the loss of your touch and he opened his eyes to question you.

I— what are you doing? What are we doing Baekhyun…” You gulp down and you shift your head, pretending to be enamored by the ocean.

“Kissing… We’re kissing, Soojinnie.” Baekhyun answers and gingerly grab your chin to make you focus on him again.

“Why did you kiss me?” You ask again, removing your stare from his sharp look. Your eyes fell on his lips that were red and swell from the kiss.

“Why did you kiss me back?” He requites the dreaded question to you as he tucks a few locks of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t call me that!” You scowl at him all of a sudden.

“Call you what?” He questions, his eyebrows threading together in befuddlement.

“Soojinnie, don’t call me that.” You frown, remembering that it was what your father used to call you.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Baekhyun now frowns.

“I hate you? No Baekhyun, you hated me first!” You push away from Baekhyun’s hug and stood up. Baekhyun also stood as you brush off the sand that sticks to your butt.

“I hated you, really? I saved you from fainting on stage when they announced our engagement to the public.” Angry Baekhyun is back, flaming at you.

“Well isn’t my cooperation with you enough payment for that? God, Baekhyun! You are so aggravating; I swear to my mother and father, you are the bane of my existence!” You spit out the words as if it’s venom in your mouth.

“You’re a handful too, you know!” Baekhyun grimaced and kicks your crocheted shawl that was on the sand.

“You’re a fucking asshole Baekhyun!!!” You grabbed your shawl and the both of you stomp your way back to the house.

#Baekhyun #Byun Baekhyun #CEO Baekhyun #kpopwritingnet #CEO Byun Baekhyun #Smut #Angst #Romance #EXO #EXO-M #EXO-K #EXO Scenario #EXO Fanfiction #Kpop Scenario #Kpop Fanfiction

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plato-pluto-whatever · 5 years

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First Contact (Chapter 1)

I am so, so excited to share the first chapter of the First Contact AU @autumnpaper and I are working on!

His comic was an inspiration to write this story together and I couldn’t be more glad to be working on this uwu

Check out the comic here and enjoy the story!

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

CHAPTER 1

THE CRASH LANDING

Supposed UFO sightings in Riverside, Iowa weren’t as unusual as many would think, yet James Kirk couldn’t help but laugh at those who insisted they’d seen a UFO. Because aliens don’t exist in the first place, right? It’s the twenty-first century and yet people are still believing in the little green aliens from Mars.

It was however, odd, that Jim could’ve sworn he saw (and also very much heard) what appeared to be a capsule crashing in the cornfield only a couple of miles away from the Kirks’ family house. He hesitated for a hot minute before deciding that, after all, he maybe should go check it out. It took a lot of work, but he did manage to sneak out of the house at 2:16 at night having stolen car keys. Why he was even up at that time was irrelevant.

Even though he believed the conspiracy theories about aliens were just a pile of bull, a tiny part of him was still wondering whether it was true. And that little part was now speaking louder than ever, nagging him and pumping his adrenaline up the closer he got to the crash site which was spewing out clouds upon clouds of smoke.

After driving at nearly a hundred miles an hour, Jim later slammed the brakes near the cornfield from which he saw the smoke rising minutes earlier. He jumped out of the car, but rather carefully made his way through the cornfield, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. Well, as humanly possible to go in a packed cornfield. The tall-grown crops obscured his view, almost like a curtain. But one thing was sure: there was a massive point of light ahead of him. Pushing the stalk from his face, he found himself ending up in some kind of artificial clearing. This wasn’t caused by any farm machinery, or worse, two people making out while rolling around in the corn.

No, what Jim now saw, standing at the edge of crushed crops, was distinctly...alien. Extraterrestrial. The blond boy felt goosebumps rise on his neck as his eyes followed the smooth lines of what seemed to be a horizontally laying, diamond shaped spaceship. Spacecraft? The messenger that was sent to tell humanity about its imminent destruction by an alien race?

Jim shook his head. ‘Get it together, Kirk.’, he commanded himself. Losing himself in daydreams wasn’t going to help him figure this out.

A big part of the hull seemed to be taken up by some kind of oval window, which appeared to double-function as a door. Unless Jim was mistaken and there was a door somewhere else. Who could know? This was literally not from Earth. It could open up everywhere.

It gave the impression of being heavily damaged and possibly burning on the other side, which was also the source for the light. The damage was no surprise though, given the insane distance it must have smashed through the fields. Jim could barely see the point of impact from where he was standing. What a miracle it made it here in...well, mostly one piece.

Jim was about to round the thing and check out the fire, when he was distracted by movement.

The door was...opening. The smooth plates slid together and away without making so much as the smallest sound. Beyond them, however, was nothing but complete darkness.

Despite the noisy fire, all Jim Kirk could hear was the thrumming of his own heartbeat, the adrenaline pumping through him, making his hands shaky. He couldn’t help but hold his breath, his memories uselessly circling through all the first contact scenes he had ever seen in any media.

This moment of uncertainty, filled with the unknown, seemed to last a lifetime.

Jim was almost overwhelmed by an instinct to run away, to hide from whatever was going to come out there. Because whatever it was, nothing in Jim’s made-though-millions-of-years-of-evolution DNA was ready for it. It was not from here. Not from this planet.

Before he could act on any of those instincts however, a pale hand reached out and attached itself to the hull. Another followed, grabbing the edge of the frame. A creature peeked his head out of the open doors of the capsule, suspiciously observing Jim.

An eerie feeling, mixed with red-hot confusion and fear crept up his spine. It looked disturbingly humanoid, certainly more so than he’d thought an alien would look like, yet it was so unmistakably not human.

Kirk couldn’t help but take a few glances at the alien’s ears, which it had. Ears. They were pointed, the long curve converging in a high tip, so unlike round human ones. Almost… like an elf’s? Jim shook his head at the mental connection and took a careful step closer. His body was shaken by sharp shivers as the extraterrestrial’s dark eyes followed him, as if waiting for Jim’s next move. It was probably determining whether he was friend or foe.

‘Not that weird.’ the farm-boy thought. He’d probably do the same thing if he crashed on some random planet and one of the locals came to check him out.

Really, James Tiberius Kirk, local nuisance, a burden to his emotionally absent mom and his abusive, homophobic step-father was generally not that kind of person who should represent humanity at a first contact with extraterrestrial life, but, oh well.

It’s not like there’s someone better to get down here in Riverside, Iowa, at 2:32 am.

Jim startled as the alien straightened out from his hunched pose behind a plate at the exit, supporting itself on its arms as it did so. It slowly raised his hand, showing his palm with fingers spread so there was some space between the ring and the middle fingers. Was it a salute? A greeting? Did it mean something? Was Jim supposed to mirror it? What was it (or he?) trying to say with it? Kirk only hoped it was a sign of peace.

A moment of stiffness fell between the two, the extraterrestrial keeping his eyes on Jim the entire time. He tried mimicking the gesture, but found himself struggling. Using the help of his other hand, he managed to somehow finally mirror it. However as he was raising his head up to look at the alien, Jim’s eyes just barely managed to catch a glimpse of the others legs giving out, making it fall down helplessly on the crops in front of the crashed capsule. It was almost as if time itself was slowing down as Jim stood there, watching him, petrified to the bone. Did he really just witness an alien dying in front of his very own eyes?

Jim ran over in a frenzied panic, collapsing on his knees next to the dark haired alien and cursing under his breath as he flipped the other over on his back. There was a piece of metal sticking out his stomach, right below the ribcage. He was breathing shallowly, clearly struggling, even if unconscious.

Jim didn’t dare to even touch the injured spot, but the cold blood from the other’s clothes inevitable got on his hands and he couldn’t help but squint at it. It seemed as if it was… Green? He wasn’t sure; it may only be the dim lighting from the flames in the field nearby. Or it could be the fact that it’s an actual alien. Jim was secretly hoping it wasn’t the latter. He had no idea how to restore what seems to be his blood.

Kirk realized that he was running out of time, and he was running out of it fast. He had to somehow nurse it back to health, but how? He had never taken care of anyone so badly injured, let alone an alien. Keeping a firm grip on the extraterrestrial, Jim stood up and straightened out. The alien in his arms was surprisingly light and he had close to no struggle laying the other down on the back seats. The blond, now more carefully, sped off home in order to somehow figure out a way to take care of the foreigner. He didn’t know how, but he could only hope he’d figure it out before it was too late.

Jim kicked the front door behind him shut with his foot. His gaze raked over the dimly lit hallway, lingering on the wooden floorboards. The Kirks’ house was old and the boards liked to creak accordingly, lamenting their age and worn down state. Not a favorable thing when you want to sneak around in the dead of night and not wake your parents. Especially the Step-Father who’ll accept any reason to show you how unwelcome you are in your own home, no matter how trivial it may be.

Honestly, he knew how to navigate through the hall, up his room, without setting off the wooden alarm and he even knew how to do it with another person in tow. The only person who used to be able to detect his presence despite his skill was his brother, but Sam had left for college about 2 years ago, so that was nothing to worry about.

“I’ll make sure to come home around the holidays.” Sam had said and then he got on the bus and never looked back.

Jim realized that there were probably more important things he should be thinking about than his lingering fraternal resentment.

Returning to the previous line of thought, Jim realized it was easy to sneak in a person that could walk on their own, but it was infinitely more difficult when they weren’t actually conscious. He felt the alien's weight in his arms more with every passing minute, so he had to get to his room as soon as possible. Taking one calculated step at a time, he made his way over to the stairs, so far having not made a single sound. The stairs were the danger zone however, since the boards of the steps had increased creakiness compared to the floor. But there was no other route Jim could take to get to a place where he could do at least some kind of first aid to the alien. What a weird night this was.

Setting his foot on the first step, Jim began his hike. One, two, three, four, no sound. Jim almost let out a breath of relief, but then he set his foot on the fifth step and there it was.

Creak.

The blond boy held his breath, listening for any proof of his awakened parents. He only got blissful silence in return. Letting the air out of his lungs, Jim continued walking. To his luck, he reached the end of the stairs without further incident. There was a different kind of problem now, though, considering he had to decide where to put the limp body of the alien that had crash landed in his backyard. He was still losing blood, that much was sure, and Jim wasn’t sure how he would explain green stains on his bed or his rooms wooden floor. Thinking it through, the only option that made kind of sense was the bathroom, for various reasons. Decision made, the farm boy set course for the door.

#star trek #first contact #first contact au #help spock bb is dying

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kiibx · 7 years

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What’s that? Completely break my own heart? WHY SURE- :D So while I can add in a hyper pupper without much issue, a depressed pupper is a bit harder… And I kindda dialed it back on his replies because I honestly have no idea how he’d really react to this, or what he’d say, or if he’d pick up on what she’s hiding. I mean, part of me feels like he’d stop fighting her and trying to distance himself so much from her after this but I’m not sure? @w@ Anyway ONTO THE HEARTACHE-

~~~~~~

“Go back to the dorms, Aoi.”

“Mm-mm. My place is right here beside you.”

“Why stay? It’s my fault… It’s better if you just go back, before you get hurt, too.”

Aoi lifted her face from her knees, peering over them at the teen fishing not more than five feet away from her. She couldn’t admit that his words had stung… What good would telling him that do? He was already emotionally distant, only letting her stay close by because she’d fought him on the matter; telling him how badly his request for her to leave his side stung was jut something that’d make him feel worse, and that was the last thing she wanted.

But she also couldn’t make herself scoot forward and snuggle into his side like usual, either. It hadn’t been that long since his battle with Yubel had resolved, a nasty fight that’d claimed the lives of nearly everyone, and especially those he held close to his heart. Just thinking of dying again terrified her… Going down calling out for him, reaching out, hoping he’d save her…

The familiar nightmares crept into the back of her mind, prompting the raven to shake her head quickly, pigtails flying with the movement. Thinking of those wasn’t going to help Jaden either!

So what would?

Aoi refocused her gaze on her best friend’s back, studying his hair, his form, everything she could about him for the umpteenth time since their return to their own dimension. His shoulders were slumped more than usual, fishing pole slightly visible from where she sat. His hair was even longer now; she still remembered the bubbly, happy boy all too well, letting her play with the then shorter strands because she’d been stressed out and kept fiddling with both it and his uniform jacket in an attempt to relax herself. Not that she minded longer hair on him, but that was neither here nor there.

This wasn’t her best friend. The Jaden she knew was a hyperactive puppy, always pulling her around the campus and through their various adventures by the hand. Winning her over with a simple smile that always left her more than willing to jump on board with anything he had in mind. A brave, impulsive kid who’d do anything for his friends-

Only… This was her pup now, wasn’t it? He’d done some horrible things, even she knew that. Things that would weigh on anybody’s soul. Not a single one of their group had come back from the other dimension unscathed, but it was Jaden who’d lost almost everything. Seen his friends die, found out who he truly was, killed others and couldn’t stop himself… She couldn’t blame him for breaking apart. Even the hardest heart would crumble under everything he’d lived through there.

So why did she stay? Even Chazz took the distance in stride; she was the only one to actively stick beside him as much as he’d allow her to, smiling like nothing had happened. She’d thought maybe acting like they used to might help… But in reality, she wasn’t the same Aoi anymore, either. She missed the adventures and the fun they’d had, but there was so much more to life now- so much more they had on the line every day. Three years ago, she’d only been interested in dueling, fashion, and getting closer to her best friends, but now…

Scooting across the rocky cliff, Aoi settled in beside him, keeping her eyes focused on the sea around their temporary home of the Academy’s island. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull away, but a glance from the corner of her eyes confirmed he wasn’t looking at her either… Fine by her. He didn’t need to be looking for this, just keep his ears open. “I wonder what kind of fish we have around here. I caught one two years ago, remember? I still don’t know what it was.”

No reply, the charmer duelist biting the tip of her tongue. This might be harder than she thought… How could she.. Ah, right-!

After a bit of reaching and fussing, she stuck a card underneath her friend’s nose, right in his line of sight and winning a confused blink. So he was listening – Good! “You gave me this, remember? Neos Alius- I’ve treasured him ever since you did.”

“…I’m not in the mood to duel, Aoi. Don’t… Don’t show me that.”

“I don’t want to duel you.” Good gods, no – Not after the hell he’d been forced to live through. But though she understood, she refused to stop, reaching behind him to flip open his own deck case and pluck another familiar card from it to show him, holding it side by side with Neos Alius. “Eria, the Water Charmer. Even if you don’t play her, she’s in your deck. A card I gave you, right?”

“Aoi-”

Finally, those familiar honey eyes glanced to her, though he barely lifted his head. The agony and distance in them killed her; just how far had he fallen while she’d tried to figure herself, and their new lives, out? “You asked me why I stay, Jay. Can’t you see my reason? It’s right here. You’ve treasured Eria as much as I treasure Neos Alius. I gave you Eria because I wanted to be beside you, supporting you, even if it wasn’t physically, though I never expected you to put her in your deck- The fact you did…”

“…Do you have to talk about dueling?”

“That’s not my point. I stay because… Because you’re my best friend. Because you mean the world to me. Because I’ll never let you fall – I swear to you, I’m always going to be right here beside you. I always have been through Eria. I don’t care if I get hurt-”

“I do!”

His grip tightened on the pole, tone briefly turning harsh, full of pain and fear. This time, she wasn’t about to shy away, slowly reaching a hand out to lay it atop his, lips curling into a soft smile. “I know you do. And I won’t get hurt, Jaden. But I’m also not going to leave you. For the last three years, you’ve been my sun, making my every day and my entire world brighter. I never expected to make such a wonderful friend here… And in three years, I got to know you. The Jaden in here - “ a pause to scoot forward slightly, just enough to press the fingertips of her other hand to his chest, over his heart, cards set down on her lap, “-and I got to know him really well. You let me in deep, Pup. So deep I stopped looking for the exit a long time ago. What happened there, everything you did… It wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Another pause, his gaze turning down to their hands with it. “So there’s no way I’m going to step aside and leave you alone. As deep as you let me into your heart, you’re as much, if not deeper, into mine. You make my life complete, Jaden Yuki. You’re my closest friend. The only one I understand more than myself.”

Lifting her hand from his chest, she slipped it under his chin, gently guiding his head up and to the side, so she could meet his eyes with a warm gaze of her own. “If you fall, I will catch you. If I can’t stop you, I’ll cushion the blow, so you never hit rock bottom. If you crack, I’ll be here to fill it in. If you want silence, I’ll give you silence. But above all else, I will never leave you alone, do you hear me? I don’t care how long and twisted the road you walk is, I am going to walk it with you. You will never, ever be alone again, I vow that here and now on my very soul. No matter what happens I’m with you.”

“…Why do this?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and you mean the world to me.”

Because I love you. Four words that went completely unsaid, but no longer made the raven nervous. No longer did she feel that flustered need to bury the odd, growing feeling she had towards him, though she knew better than to say anything, especially when she was sure it was leaking into her words. But in love with him or not, it didn’t matter; she absolutely refused to leave the side of a man who’d never left hers and made her every day worthwhile.

Instead, she tilted her head, gently bumping her forehead against his. She loved him. He was in no place to hear it, and she doubted he ever would be, though she couldn’t deny it… But could drag a rock over it and leave it buried for the time being. As long as he let her stand beside him, she’d be content. “Like Eria to Neos Alius, I’ll always be at your side, for the good and the bad.”

Forever.

#【𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌】{Elementshipping}#{{This still hurts but I still love it ;;#submission #Getyouraoion

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textales · 7 years

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“The Kid is Hot Tonight.”

One of my best friends in Junior High was a girl named Sam. Her mom was the first female Top-40 Disk Jockey in Montana, and the reason I got into the radio business.

Back then AM still ruled the air – even if it was in mono and all crackly. The FM band was obscure - saved for nerdy technocrats who smoked pipe tobacco and hung out at the library…or worse, Radio Shack! Even though it was in stereo and superior in sound quality, FM was not yet as popular as AM. Most FM stations ran in automation, playing boring lectures from some college, or “beautiful music” suitable for any elevator. AM was fun and live and fantastically phenomenal. The kind of radio that came standard in every car, AM was the real deal. And Wendi Carpenter rocked afternoon drive on 1450 KQDI, entertaining countless central Montana listeners hungry for anything other than country.

Most days after school, Sam and I would stop at “the station” while her mother was on the air, to scoop-up free records and kill a little time hanging out with the other DJs.

“Early Adopters”

Record labels sent music to radio DJs everywhere. Even stations in places like Montana were great for launching new artists…and hungry programmers looking to make their mark would take the suggestions of record reps by adding new songs to the playlist. If the new song sold more than 500,000 units, those “early adopter” radio DJs would get their name and the station call-letters engraved on a plaque with a gold record, mounted in a fancy frame to hang as a brag piece.

One breezy afternoon in the early eighties, Sam and I were hanging out at KQDI when the Music Director told us “This band will never go anywhere,” and carelessly flipped a 12” vinyl record at me. I wasn’t sure if he was joking – but who cares if he was, it was cool to have a first pressing of a record with a stamp that said: “Promotional Use Only – Not for Resale.”

Little did we know in just a few months that Loverboy would become a big deal, and soon I’d be making a trip with my neighbor to see them play live.

“Working for the Weekend”

As neighbors go, Don was the coolest guy on the block. Not only did he have two of the greatest classic cars ever built (a red and black Chevy Chevelle AND a pretty blue Shelby Mustang 350 GT), but he was also a huge music fan with the biggest record collection and the nicest stereo on the North Side. His wife Judy was stunningly pretty and they were a model couple, making all the right choices like buying a home and saving for retirement starting in their early 20s.

Don was a bit of a purist when it came to music. He had strong opinions about music videos that played on the new cable channel called MTV…he found most of them fake and cheesy - he just wanted to see the musicians play. He also preferred vinyl LP records to the synthetic sounds of the new Compact Disks which were just barely making their way onto the scene.

I didn’t expect Don to give a shit about Loverboy – they were hardly a “real” rock band like Foreigner or Boston or Journey – so I was surprised when he invited me to go see them when they came to a college town nearby.

Because I was just 17 we had to promise my dad that Don would make sure I’d behave. Oh sure, I assumed Don would sneak a beer or two my way (and there’d be no need to bother my father with that detail!) but I was stopped like a deer in the headlights when he asked if I would mind if he smoked a joint.

At that moment I learned that he and Judy smoked pot. It didn’t bother me that he might want to imbibe in what has been considered essential for almost any concert-goer since the 1960s. What bothered me was the fact that I hadn’t even thought about it.

By no means did I think less of them for this – hell, lots of people smoke pot – I just felt like a fool for being so incredibly naïve for not even considering it.

Now that I look back, I wonder if there were other secrets. What else didn’t I know?

“The Feedlot” served gargantuan sub-style sandwiches using whole loaves of bread. I worked there for a stint between radio gigs. As high-school jobs go, this was so much better than actually having to make the stuff - I just delivered it using one of two company cars….a 1978 Chevy Chevette or a brand-new 1981 Mercury Lynx. I got paid to drive around? How cool was that?!

The manager thought it was cute that some of the regular customers would specifically request me as their delivery person – they wanted “the cute blond one” and she obliged.

Two big burly truck-driver guys who lived on Bootlegger Trail were particularly fond of me. I can’t remember their names, but they were always having parties and seemed so very happy and friendly. They’d invite me to stick around for a beer or a Coke. I would routinely turn them down - I had to get back to the Feedlot. I was on the clock after all, and my employer should get full value for the $3.35 an hour she was paying me.

Although they were “old” and lived in a trailer, (they were maybe in their twenties, it was a double-wide with full skirting and a tip-out), they were clean and smelled good and were always so very nice. They paid by check (everywhere still took checks back then), and they tipped well – very well, in fact. The tip for a five minute drive to deliver a sandwich in a paper bag was more than I made in an hour on minimum wage. My goodness, they were generous.

I remember their checks were so weird – not the blue or yellow “safety paper” most people got for free with their account at Northwestern Bank – theirs were “personalized” – printed with the Strawberry Shortcake cartoon character.

Strawberry Shortcake? WTH? That seemed kind of strange. And I remember how they would say “Bye” with an unusual inflection. It made no sense at the time because I didn’t realize they were dropping heavy hints and hitting on me. Hmmm…maybe they knew I was gay – I know I sure didn’t. And what else didn’t I know?

Hindsight is 20/20…and looking back I realize there were so many other times that I was so very oblivious. Like when I would surprise guys who were “entertaining” in their rooms at the all-male barracks on Malmstrom Air Force Base. This was a decade before “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” made being gay in the armed forces passable.

“Oh, duh, THAT’s what they were doing!” NO WONDER it took them so long to answer the door. You’d think they’d be expecting me – although the wait-time on a sandwich is hardly that of a pizza. Maybe they wanted to be interrupted?

Huh. What else didn’t I know?

Naiveté has its place, mostly to serve and protect the innocent. Although I usually got A’s and I considered myself fairly witty and articulate, I was completely naïve. I was guilty of being “wholesome,” and my selective attention wasn’t at all finely tuned. Or, on the other hand, my selective attention WAS finely tuned, with a filter added to keep out the unsavory thoughts I was consciously trying to avoid.

In the early 1980s a new disease called AIDS was killing everyone in its path. However devastating, this “gay plague” was an epidemic confined to places far away, where homosexuals congregated in bars and bath houses and did unspeakable things in the dark. Although gay men in big cities were dropping like flies, Montana was safe. We didn’t have “those people,” and those places where unthinkable things occurred didn’t exist in Big Sky Country.

I got why people were scared shitless, and a majority equated being gay and having AIDS as an automatic given. Misconceptions, myths and hysteria were rampant. Victims were treated like lepers. Some feared you could get AIDS simply by being close to someone or kissing or hugging them.

Most who had this opinion were essentially just naïve and innocent. But the gleefully, willfully ignorant were the most troubling - often expressing their fear as “god’s wrath.” Not surprisingly, many in this crowd also refused to believe Liberace was gay – go figure.

Hall & Oates sang: “Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid” and Ronald Reagan took the hint. The President said absolutely nothing about AIDS until 1987, near the end of his second term and years after his friend Rock Hudson had died from the disease. At that point in the U.S., over 36,000 people were diagnosed with AIDS and over 26,000 people had died from it. Montana was barely a bleep on the radar and it was still easy enough for the general public (and even the medical community) to avoid the issue for years. “Not in my backyard” was a common sentiment.

Throughout most of the 80s and 90s nobody in Montana knew anyone with HIV or AIDS and if they did they wouldn’t tell you for fear of being shunned from their church or social group…or worse, being fired from their job or attacked by the gleefully, willfully ignorant. Even doctors were dumb – my stepmother had a nurse friend who worked for a MD who threatened to fire her because her son had AIDS.

For the longest time I was able to say “not a single person in my friends and family circle has been affected by AIDS.” This was remarkable given that I had moved to a “real city” and was an open member of the very community in crisis hit hardest by the epidemic.

But hardly better than the gleefully, willfully ignorant, I had a self-righteous, cavalier attitude and figured I knew all I needed to know. I wore my “garbage bags” and knew to never get in a situation of risk. “I’ll just keep myself safe and sanitized and won’t have to learn anything about this unsavory thing.” Even though I gave money to various AIDS and HIV charities, I separated myself from “those people” and wore a protective coating to prevent me from getting too close. I still had tons of fun, knowing the rubber sheath would keep me safe, but I wouldn’t let love in or out…not in any way. Figuratively or literally…emotionally or physically. “Not in my backyard.”

My personal “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” approach on HIV and AIDS worked until 1990 when my roommate Robert tested positive, and I was forced to pull my head out of the sand. I was not going to let myself become a victim of fear and ignorance, so I told myself I best learn about this shit and what to do about it. I loved Robert and wanted to do everything I could to keep him alive. My self-righteous stance had softened.

What else didn’t I know? I discovered having an open mind and open dialog gave me the courage to reach out to people I’d been shutting out, including my high-school best friend Ross. My buddy, Buddy, with whom I had a one night encounter in college, had come out of the closet and announced his status, and others I knew were starting to surface. Although I was no longer able to say “Nobody in my life is affected by AIDS,” I was happy to kill that willful ignorance that was getting in my way of loving people. I let curiosity have a place at the table, right next to security. I started asking more questions. Not that I became obsessed, I just wanted to stop being scared to death. I refused to let hate and fear win over love and understanding.

It was a sad story two decades later when I learned that Don and Judy both died from AIDS. I heard he got it by a blood transfusion and unknowingly infected his wife. They died at home, both frail shadows of their once vibrant selves. Many friends and family volunteered with home hospice, trying to make the torture tolerable. They left behind two teenage kids…I can only imagine the emotional torture they had to endure with not one but both parents dying, made worse by bullying school kids mocking and making fun.

Somehow it was supposed to make it more palatable that the source of the infection was not self-induced but completely beyond their control. “Good lord, it’s not like they got this by having sex or doing drugs!” They were innocent and deserved no shame or blame.

Yet there was a shroud of secrecy. Nobody was supposed to know. If Don got AIDS from a blood transfusion beyond anyone’s control, why all the shame and silent treatment? What else didn’t I know? And why do I care? Am I as bad as those so called Christians who want so badly to assign blame and often end-up showering the victim in shame? I can hear them now: “You reap what you sow.“ “Play with fire and get burned.” Blah blah blah.

It was easy for me to have such a callous curiosity from a big city thousands of miles away. My job or reputation wasn’t at stake and my life wasn’t under the sharp scrutiny of the terrified in a small town where even just talking about sex was taboo.

Don wasn’t naïve and clueless, was he? Even though he was straight and a “guy’s guy,” I had no difficulty imagining a “what if” scenario. WHAT IF he had been at the wrong place at the wrong time? WHAT IF at a concert in Seattle or Calgary he smoked a little too much pot and drank too much? Maybe he stumbled into the wrong crowd who took advantage of his innocence, or worse, if he was coerced into something he didn’t want to do and by then it was too late? WHAT IF that was me instead of Don?

I only recently learned that in his dying days Don sequestered himself to a room in his garage in a self-induced quarantine. I wish I had been around to ask why….was it to protect himself from the outside world or it from him? And I’d like to think I would have had the guts to face my own fear and spend time with him talking about classic cars and music. But as much as I want to figure it out, I’ll have to be satisfied with a “You’ll never know” when asking “What else didn’t I know?”

It happened almost overnight: FM became the preferred band for radio listeners. The sound quality was infinitely better and in stereo, after all. And by the ‘90s every car had an FM radio that came standard from the factory at no additional cost. Program directors started putting more time and attention to programming their FM stations, and the AM signals were the ones left for automation and a disintegrating audience share.

In the next decade medical science had revolutionized treatment making HIV something people live with by taking just a pill a day. And now Prep offers what is essentially a vaccine against HIV.

It would be great if we could restore humans like we restore cars. It would be great to have some of those classics back in our lives. And it’s so unfortunate that so many who passed were essentially victims of bad timing – I’m fairly certain they’d still be alive if they got their HIV in this current era.

Ross, Robert, Buddy, Don and Judy. It didn’t matter how they got AIDS and died….they were all victims. Unfortunately, none of them got a gold record to hang on their wall for being “early adopters.”

What else didn’t I know? Too much to write…but one thing I did eventually figure out: whether the injection was by needle or by penis, knowing how it happened didn’t make the pain and suffering any easier for anyone.

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