#i cannot believe next week marks a full year since my last fic and it's been OVER a year since my last Ash fic 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alarriefantasy · 4 years

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Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

#deleted fics #objectlesson #horsegirlharry #larry fics #larry stylinson #larry fic rec

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danadeservesadrink · 4 years

Text

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 4

So How’d It Go? Read on AO3 here

Angst warning!! This is an important chapter but damn was it hard to write! Tagging @today-in-fic . Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

“Dana Scully speaking”

“So how’d it go?”

“You know hello would have been nice Missy”

“Tell me! You can’t just leave the house on Thursday with that dress in your suitcase and expect me to not want details?”

“Did you go through my luggage?”

“I was looking for a top. But who was the guy? Was it David from work? Or Mark from that bar that one time?”

“And why should I tell you?”

“Dana this is the first time you’ve gone out in a year-”

“10 months.”

“Whatever. I just want to know who the lucky guy is.”

“His name is Mulder…”

“Mulder?”

“It’s his last name. He doesn’t like his first.”

“Mysterious. I like it. Go on.”

“He’s living in my old apartment”

“Wow Danes that seriously some rom com shit”

“I know, I know. He’s cute. Tall, far too confident, obviously brilliant…”

“Sounds like you’re already in love”

“But I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“What, why? It was only the first date what could he have possibly done wrong”

“He works at the FBI. On unexplained cases of the supernatural variety. X files he called them.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know if I can see him again.”

“Does he know?”

“Did I tell him on our first and probably only date that if he looks hard enough he likely has a file in his office with my name in it? No, he doesn’t know.”

“Do you think he’s doing an undercover investigation on you?”

“Gee thanks Mis, because the only reason a guy would be interested in me would be because he’s on a secret case”

“I’m not saying that! But don’t you think it’s a little weird that the minute you moved out of your old apartment an FBI agent investigating the paranormal moves in to take your place?”

“I don’t know Missy. I don’t know, it's just too much to think about. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Ok. You’re coming home on Monday right?”

“Yea. I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight Danes.”

“Night Missy.”

It was her luck that something like this would happen. Hadn’t she already been through enough? She left Stanford with a medical degree and all the freedom in the world, moved to her favorite city, and started saving lives. She made the world a better place, worked her ass off day in and day out to help children, saving God’s little angels, and how does He repay her? By ripping her life into pieces and throwing them into the trash, and then lighting the trash can on fire. So she moves back home, stays with her family. She recovers, she fights to get the life she had back, and she finally develops some sense of normalcy, even getting confident enough to go back out with a guy. And he’s a fucking alien investigator at the FBI. Like she hadn’t dealt with enough G-men already. Now this man who had somehow captivated her mind for the last month was just another threat. And she really was so naive as to believe the world would throw a perfectly good man in her lap.

She certainly hadn’t been looking. When he had first called her all she wanted was for him to leave her alone. She didn’t trust men anymore, and certainly didn’t feel like putting in the effort to court one. But talking to him in her apartment made her feel those butterflies she hadn’t felt in a long time. He just had this air around him, an aura that projected both confidence and a pure wild energy, a mix that intoxicated her every time she drew near him. He grabbed her wrist and she hadn’t worn a bracelet for the next week. She could still feel the phantom grip of his fingers and the electricity that flowed through them, like a newly connected circuit powering up for the first time. He hadn’t left her head since. She tried to call him as soon as she got home the next day, but she had been so caught up with his floppy hair and lopsided smile that she had completely forgotten to save his number from her mother’s phone to hers. So she placed faith in the postal system and hoped he would be charmed by her antics. And it worked. She was going out on a date with a man who made her head spin, one who tried to pretend that he was unphased by probably the tightest dress she owned even though he didn’t close his mouth for a full minute when he first saw her.

The date was perfect until they had talked about jobs. And then he dropped the bomb and she tried to brush off the feeling in the pit of her stomach by making stupid jokes and he laughed but she couldn’t help but dwell.

“UFO’s, cryptids, anything from crop circles to spontaneous human combustion. If the FBI can’t solve it, they toss it in my pile”

Did he know? He couldn’t have. What kind of psychopath brings up the fact that he studies alien abductions to someone like her. And if he really was undercover he wouldn’t want her to know what his real job was would he? He would have lied.

Unless he was toying with her.

Unless this was another experiment on her, another way to keep tabs on her, make sure she didn’t talk, make sure she was doing her very best to forget everything that happened to her.

She got up from the bed abruptly and shut the blinds on the windows. They clacked together and then the room fell into deep silence again.

He didn’t talk about work for the whole rest of the dinner. He talked about baseball, about how he goes for runs in the park she used to walk through after a long day shift. He said “Behold, a man” when the waiter brought out her garlic and herb chicken. Mulder wouldn’t do that to her. Mulder was just a man with a job whose only interest in her life was whether she was free next Friday to go out again. He paid for the cab back to her hotel and opened the door for her to get in. He was a gentleman.

He’s trying to get her to trust him.

And suddenly everything clicked into place and the air left her lungs. She found herself stumbling to the bed, she knocked over the lamp but it was in her way and she just needed to be in bed. Her ears were ringing, she couldn’t hear, everything was going in and out of black.

He’s watching you. He’s with them. He’s trying to silence you. He’s going to follow you, gain your trust and then he’s going to kill you. He knows where you live, he can track you down, they’ve tried to take her before and he will try again. He’s with them, he’s with them, he’s going to kill you, they’re going to kill you.

Everything’s bright and she’s back in that place with needles and tubes in and out of her, and she knows she’s in a hotel in DC but as many times as she tries to wrap the blankets around her and tuck her feet under her she cannot become small enough to escape them. She feels tears hot down the sides of her cheeks and the sounds of drills in her ears and there's no escape. She hears pounding and wailing and hands grip her wrists and they burn, they burn, so she screams. She won’t let them take her again, she won’t.

“Scully, Scully it's me”

She fights it, and it’s him, it’s Mulder and he’s trying to take her, like she thought.

“Let go of me!” She shrieks, flailing about but she’s trapped, he’s got her trapped, in bed sheets tied around her wrists and feet. “Don’t take me!”

He lets go but she’s still trapped, still fighting.

“Scully no one’s going to take you.”

“Yes! Yes they’re going to take me! You’re going to take me!” He touches her hand and it doesn't burn but it makes a lump in her throat and her fist turns flat. He pulls a sheet off of her and she feels exposed.

“Scully look at me.”

She does. She looks through tears at a blurred man in her hotel room. He doesn’t look like a threat. He looks sad.

“How did you get in here.” He steps to the edge of the bed and she pushes herself back towards the headboard, away. He raises both hands and walks to the other side of the bed where he sits.

“You left your wallet in the taxi. He called me because I paid and I picked it up and brought it here. I made it to your room and I wasn’t going to come in but I heard the lamp crash. So I used the spare key in the wallet and let myself in.”

He seemed to be telling the truth, holding up the wallet as evidence. She hadn’t even realized it was gone.She unlocked the door with the key she kept in her purse. She started to take in her surroundings, the lamp crashed to the floor, the bedsheets thrown from the bed. She looked up at him and saw nothing but concern over his face.

Every emotion, shame, embarrassment, anger, sadness, all of it hit her at once and she sobbed.

He reached over to touch her but she shouted “No!”, like a wounded dog. Her voice didn’t sound real. “Please don’t touch me”.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

He watched as tears racked her body, never moving from his spot on the bed. She cried in a ball, hands covering her face, arms and knees tucked to her sides, protecting her from nothing. Then, she laid down, and cried until the tears had to be blinked down the sides of her face while she stared at the ceiling. She felt him get off the bed, and she bolted up, dizzying herself, but he nodded and only walked over to the minifridge to pull out a bottle of water. She sat up and he resumed his position at the end of the bed.

“Drink some water. Can you breathe again?”

She hated the way he talked to her, like she was a child. But he was right. She accepted the bottle and drank half, gulping down cold water as a welcomed change to the hot sheets.

“Yes. I’m sorry you had to see that. You can go now.”

“Don’t be sorry. I know panic attacks can be bad.”

“I’m ok now. You can go.” The crack in her voice made both of them wince. A different type of silence filled the room.

“You know I am a psychologist, but it doesn’t take an Oxford degree to diagnose PTSD.”

“I said I’m fine. You can go now Mulder.”

“What happened Dana.”

She sat and stared at him, sitting on her bed, asking her to spill her darkest secrets to him. Everything about telling him felt wrong but this is the first time anyone has offered to listen.

“About a year ago, a man broke into my apartment and abducted me. He drugged me and put me in the back of his truck and drove me to a cornfield in Virginia. I remember waking up and seeing the stars and trying to run but I was tied down. And then a bright light came and I-” She choked back another sob, but he shifted closer to her, eyes wide, and nodded for her to continue. “I don’t remember what happened. But my mother found me on her doorstep a month later in a hospital gown and…” her voice cut out. He again moved closer and when she didn’t pull back he slowly raised his hand and put it on her knee. He looked at her as if to ask “is this ok” and she nodded in response.

“I don’t remember anything except seeing my mother’s face again for the first time. She looked so… so terrified of me. Like I had grown another head or something. And then I looked down, and I was holding a baby”. She felt another tear run down her cheek.

“I was holding a baby and I didn’t know whose it was and I almost dropped it. Mom took it from me and my sister came and helped me inside, the whole time they were asking me where I’d been but I didn’t know. I didn’t remember anything. All of these people showed up at our house and asked me over and over again “where were you?” “what happened” and I just kept answering them I don’t know, I don’t know. They said I went on a bender. That I ran away from work and responsibilities, probably with some friends. They said I was pregnant and didn’t know it, and they tried to take the baby for testing but my mother wouldn’t let them. She didn’t believe them, she knew I wouldn’t do that. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but we packed up everything and moved out of my apartment… your apartment. They didn’t even open an investigation on the man that took me.”

“I can.” She had been staring at the lamp on the ground, she hadn’t noticed him staring at her with such intensity it made her shiver.

“You don’t get it. They didn’t open a case on me because there wasn’t enough evidence-”

“They didn’t open a case on you because you were abducted. The FBI has been trying to suppress alien abductions for years and you are just another victim. I could open a case on you, start an investigation, really stick it to them-”

“I am not a case that needs to be solved, Mulder.”

“But I can help you Scully. Do you remember anything from that night, anything at all?”

“Mulder!”

“I don’t understand, why would you not want to know what happened?”

“Because Mulder, because sometimes the weight of what happened is too much to bear. Because while you try to hunt down monsters they terrorize me in my sleep. Because there’s a baby in my house and I don’t know where it came from.” She realized she was yelling at him but she didn’t care. “Because frankly it’s none of your goddamn business what happened to me if I don’t want it to be. The men who you work for threatened to kill me and my family if I tried to find out what happened to me and for all I know you’re one of them.” Her voice was shrill and sharp like broken glass and it cut just where it needed to.

“I’m sorry.”

She met his eyes again and they were wide and sad.

“I want to help you Scully. I’ll do…” he took a breath, “anything. I’ll do anything to help you.”

“I need you to leave.”

“Ok.”

He got up and she remained on the bed, drained.

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ok. Goodbye Scully.”

“Goodbye Mulder.”

#the x files #txf fanfic #msr #msr fanfiction #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #angst #txf au #msr au #sam writes #plz let me know if you like this!#also my appologies again for the angst

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sabineelectricheart · 4 years

Text

Fortuna

Summary: Nicola thinks himself to be the luckiest man in the world.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1400

Notes: Self-loathe. How fun to write. And, look, this time is a) a Nicola fic, b) that’s not a love triangle with Dante, and c) that is fluffy. I did it! I finally did it!

Nicola usually finds himself chuckling at the self-derogatory thought that any psychiatrist would have a field day explaining the links between being considered a spare of his cousin’s through his childhood and most of his adult life to willingly putting himself in danger every so often.

The blond man knew the risks he was taking every mission. He thrives in it, he finds that he does his best work whenever he is running thin, with a knife against the back of his neck.

Lately, however, he has not been getting the same kicks out of the adrenaline, he finds himself to be cautious and risk-averse. He was reminded of what is on the line every time he glanced down at the golden wedding band sitting on his left ring finger. The piece of jewellery served as a reminder of two purposes: who he wanted to keep safe and why he needed to keep himself safe. Now, years after he managed to score his greatest treasure, it has been hard to have it both ways, and he was coming to a breaking point.

Quietly walking to the front door of his manor house, Nicola takes a moment to take everything in. From the wooden paned windows and stately Renaissance-style structure to the warm light coming from within and the tiny, well-maintained garden out in the front.

When he put into motion that scatter-brained plan of his to “release” Dante all those years ago, he truly believed that he would never get this. That he would go down with the Family, and he really did not care either way. Most of his life was marked by violence and self-sacrifice, he sometimes felt guilty for being able to enjoy life now.

Hanging his coat in the entryway, he lets the welcoming smell of home wash over him. The house is tidy, but it is clearly lived in. Nicola smiles as he sees the ever-growing pile of shoes by the living room door, and the odd book left here and there by his nerdy daughter. A house that was so clearly a home; a house that was so clearly lived in and loved from the very moment that Nicola carried her across the neglected threshold and gave her full reign of their new castle.

He follows the sound of her humming and goes weak at the sight of Liliana in the kitchen, cooking a full meal for the two of them. He stares at his wife in amazement as she stirs whatever it is in the pan. She puts in time with dedication towards the Church works and the upkeep of the Family’s operations, as well as being the mother to his children, yet she still has the energy for this. For him.

Lili jumps slightly as he wraps his arms around her waist, but she quickly relax into the familiar touch of her husband.

“Hi there.” She whispers, a small smile gracing her lips. “Welcome home, dear. Are you hungry?”

Nicola presses a kiss to her rosy, plump cheek and another to her exposed neck before inhaling her flowery perfume. She reaches a hand back to run through his hair that, no matter his age, never got tidier. He hums happily at the feeling of her long nails scratching his scalp.

“I see it was a long mission, this one.” She comments lightly, but with an undertone of concern. Her husband was usually that needy whenever he was hurt, tired or sad.

“It was.” He nods. “I’m happy to be home.”

She turned away from the stove and smiled at him. “I’m glad you are home.”

Nicola rocks them both side to side. From working full time and having three children, time alone was rare but precious. He loved his life, there was very little he would change about it. He adored these moments between the two of them where nothing needed to be said, and they could just exist in the other’s arms.

“How long have they been asleep?” Nicola asks, his fingers lazily drawing patters on her waist.

“About an hour, I suppose.” Lili responded. “Daniele was asking for you before bed.”

The man pats her hip twice before moving away, “I’ll go look in on them.”

She turns, kissing him swiftly. “Good idea. Dinner will be done in five.”

“It smells delicious.” Nicola compliments, climbing the stairs to wish his children goodnight.

As he presses a kiss to each of their foreheads, he is reminded of why he insists on working at the mafia with Dante, but he is also reminded of how much of their childhoods he is missing. He could have sworn that Daniele was not that tall last week. In a blink of an eye, they will all be at school and out of their home and what will he remember of their tender years?

Re-entering the kitchen, he is made breathless by the sight of Lili. For so long, he pined, loving her from a distance out of absolute fear of putting a target on her back, a vice of the Falzone men, as it stands. After she so steadfastly stayed by his side when he messed up his plans, after he drew her in the eye of the hurricane, there was no denying anymore. He has worshipped the ground she walks on ever since.

“You amaze me, love.” He says, taking a seat at the table.

She chuckled. “Why is that?”

“You run a house, you go out on provisioning, you are the mother of my children, and the best one they could ever want. I’m absolutely certain I fall more and more in love with you every day. Is there anything you cannot do?”

Nicola used to have problems talking about his feelings, hiding, repressing and disguising his emotional world until they burst out him in a violent and feverish torrent. With Lili, he has never had an issue telling her what he feels for her.

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles at the messy-haired man sitting across from her. “Haven’t you heard, honey? I’m a saint.”

Nicola barks out a laugh. “I’m possibly the luckiest man in the world.”

“Not ‘possibly’. You are.” Lili argued

He grins at his wife as he eats a forkful of food. He chews as he thinks his next words over. He knows what he wants to say but is unsure of how to phrase it.

“Nicola, what is it?” Lili asks, perceptive as always. “What’s wrong?”

The man huffs. “How do you know something is wrong?”

“I’m your wife, that’s how.” She dismisses breezily. “Do tell me, please?”

Nicola gazes at the ring on her left hand, a near identical to his. He is not too ashamed to admit that he cried a little as he slipped the ring onto her finger, but it is fair to say that he barely made it through his vows without breaking down crying. It had been a perfect day.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, repeating her words from moments ago.

He breathed out. “I’m thinking of leaving the Family.”

“Very well.” She responded, stoically. “Do you want to tell me why or do you want to talk about it later?”

Nicola makes a gesture to the stairs. “I’m missing too much of their lives, I want to see our children grow up. I’m sure Daniele was shorter last week, and when did Sofia stop being a toddler? I want to spend more time with you, and I miss spending our weekends together as a family.”

Lili nods. “Then, by all means. We can go out and discuss it with Dante tomorrow at lunch, see what he thinks about it, and then bring it out to Emilio and the Vatican. I don’t have anything else to do, so we might as well host it.”

Nicola’s eyes widen. “You are fine with this?”

“Of course, Nicola.” She responded. “I am your wife! I am always going to support your decisions. If you are no longer happy with your job, then I’ll help you find another. Why would I be upset with the fact that you want to spend more time with your family?”

Nicola is completely silent, letting her words sink in. Not serving the Family always seemed a heresy to him, a crime.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He whispers, bewildered.

She nods. “Yes, and I am the luckiest woman.”

*_*_*_*_*

Piofiore Masterlist

#piofiore #nicola francesca

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secondgenerationnerd · 5 years

Note

we need the hcs to follow up 😳✌🏻

Yeah saw that one coming 😅

I’ll try to separate them as best as I can. They’re mostly more sexy times hcs, but I am making the last one something they won’t tell anyone else and why. Also, I am a firm believer in good communication and conversation between partners. There are certain kinks that I am not familiar with and some I’m just not comfortable with. I want it to be stressed these couples communicate with each other and do not push the other past what they’re comfortable with.

Speeddemon: (some of these are from their sexytimes HC list, but I did add on to a few ;) )

-Damian has a huge praise kink. Irey figures it out when she tells him how good he is to her (aka that boy could spend hours with his head between her legs) and he gets this strange, happy look. She tests it out one or two more times before telling him about it.

-Irey has a thing for his Robin uniform. On his birthday after they started dating, he found Irey sitting on his bed in lacey green panties and a red corset with the Robin logo on one breast. They didn’t leave the room that night.

-They’re the two more likely to roleplay as their hero personas, especially if they have a quicky after patrol before heading back to the tower.

-Irey and Damian are both flexible so they’re more likely to explore different positions. Damian really likes anything that allows him to see her face.

-Damian has a very small kink involving his mouth--he loves to kiss, lick, bite, suck every part of her that she’ll let him.

-Irey can vibrate different parts of her body and you had better believe she uses that to her advantage during sex.

-While Irey heals almost instantly from any mark he leaves, she’ll leave scratch marks on his back and chest.

-They’ve brought food into bed a few times. Damian likes chocolate syrup, even though it makes a massive mess.

- What they won’t tell anyone: Theirs isn’t really a kink, but it’s more of a favorite position. They’ll both lay on their sides, facing each other, with her leg over his hip. Neither one of them has more control than the other, they can go slower than they would in other positions, and they get to be closer than with other positions. They don’t tell anyone about it because it’s not really worth mentioning. It’s a special thing for them.

Superstar: (done sexy times for them too, just adding to it.)

-Jon’s way more dominant in bed than most people realize.

-Mar’i’s a switch so she lets Jon take the lead most nights.

- The easiest way for Jon to get her flustered/slightly horny is to call her a good girl. He’ll do it during training, just under his breath, to make her squirm.

-They have Blue kryptonite and Tamaranean strength handcuffs. Mar’i used them on Jon first and did a striptease while he watched.

-They do not have to use condoms as it’s difficult/impossible for them to conceive naturally. (toying around with this because I’d love to do a fic with them having a baby.) Jon rarely pulls out and Mar’i has no issues with that.

-Mar’i’s a dancer so lapdances are pretty frequent for him (and never get old), but there have been a few times he’s given her one and it ended well for him.

-Mar’i really likes ‘sexy’ costumes because she thinks they’re funny. Until Jon gives her a mind-blowing orgasm after she shows him a “sexy superboy” costume based on his new uniforms.

-Mar’i blows Jon in the Batcave...frequently. There’s a certain blind spot in the cameras she knows about and he legit cannot say no when she asks (usually because she’ll ask after they’ve made out a while.)

-They each have a hard no- Mar’i doesn’t like being degraded and Jon doesn’t like having his butt touched. Jon was trying to talk dirty to her in the middle of sex and called her a slut; She kicked him out of bed and wouldn’t touch him for a week. Jon’s thing is more of a comfort zone situation, it’s not an area he likes to be touched and it takes them a few times before they realize that’s just a no go area.

-What they won’t tell anyone: Mar’i likes being choked when they’re having rough sex. Jon and Mar’i can hold their breath longer than normal humans, but they’re still safe. The reason they don’t tell anyone is probably the same reason most of them don’t think Jon would be dominant: He’s very sweet in his day to day life. Jon’s the kind of guy that would move heaven and earth for the people he loves, so the idea he chokes his girlfriend during sex and she likes it wouldn’t make sense to most of them. Plus, Damian is technically her uncle (even though they act like siblings more) and if he found out, Jon would be dead.

Speeding Arrow: (haven’t really done a whole lot of sexy times stuff for them so.)

-They’re both talkers during sex. Not really like dirty talk, though that happens, but like, there are times they’ll have a conversation while doing it. I stand by the idea Jai and Lian have bickered about guitars while she was on top of him.

-Jai, like his sister, can vibrate his body parts. Lian’s first time was amazing because of his vibrating dick.

-Lian’s got a thing for his body hair. As in, she has straight up told him no sex when he had to wax his chest for a mission until it grew back. And they did not have sex until it grew back.

-Jai can still manipulate the speedforce to get super strength. When Lian demands him to go harder and faster, he obeys her. She usually can’t walk properly the next day.

-They’re the only couple that’s likely to have hate sex during a fight. They’ve been friends since they were like 3? So they’ve had a fair share of fights. Now, there are times they’ll argue and things get heated in a different way. Jai will make a comment about getting rid of her bitchy attitude and Lian usually calls him an asshole.

-A few guys from other teams will occasionally ask Jai if he’s the fast guy at everything (because that’s an original joke.). He usually brushes it off without a thought. They say it in front of Lian once and she straight up doesn’t like that. She told the guys that Jai would see them later. When they asked why, she said, “going to test your theory.” before walking off. Jai has to admit he likes when she takes control like that.

-They’re arguably the most vanilla of the group. They know what they like. They might branch out with locations and some things, but for the most part, all they need is each other for a good time.

-What they don’t tell anyone: They both occasionally use sex to repress unwanted emotions or get some control. Lian’s more of the former and Jai the latter. Jai’s aware of it and makes sure to check in with her before they do anything. Afterward, he’ll ask her if she needs to talk or if there’s anything he can help her with. Sometimes she tells him what’s wrong, other times she just lays curled up next to him. He will refuse to sleep with her if he thinks something’s really wrong. Jai’s less likely to use sex as a way to feel in control in some part of his life, but it does happen. She’s the same way with Jai on communication. The reason they don’t tell anyone is because they both recognize it is a very unhealthy way to deal with problems, but fuck it.

Colin X Milagro

-Milagro will use her Lantern ring in bed to hold Colin down, which he fucking loves.

-Similar to Damian, Milagro uses her mouth a lot in bed but tends to bite and suck more than kiss and lick.

-They have the most toys out of all the couples. They like trying new things.

-Milagro likes it when he blindfolds her and does sense play. It’s her favorite form of foreplay.

-Colin and Milagro mostly keep things in the bedroom, but there are a few planets they’ve had sex on. These were deserted planets that Oa has dismissed basically. They have a planet bang list.

-There’s another exception to the bedroom rule, vibrating panties. Milagro lost a bet at some point and had to wear them for a full day. Colin had control of the remote. She was ready to kill him by dinner time because he wouldn’t let her get off. He does make up for it, but barely if you ask her.

-During weeks when he’s turned into Abuse a lot, Milagro gives him a full body massage. I do mean full body. He usually feels bad because he wants her to get off too. Sometimes she’ll let him touch her or use one of their many toys, but for the most part she tells him to just enjoy the massage.

-Unlike Irey and Mar’i, she’s not a fan of costumes in bed. Lingerie yes, mostly because she likes how it makes her feel not to get him aroused. No, to do that she puts on the trench coat he wears and nothing underneath.

-What they won’t tell anyone: They have a strapless dildo that Milagro will fuck Colin with. In my canon, Colin is bisexual which everyone knows about. He asks her if she’ll fuck him like a year or so after they started dating. She does hesitate because she doesn’t know what to do. They research it together and learn how to make it enjoyable for both of them. It’s one of the more intimate acts they do because he’s physically bigger than her. They don’t tell anyone about it, not because he’s ashamed he likes it, but because it’s something special for them. It’s a time when he can be more vulnerable to her and she gets a chance to make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

#damian wayne #irey west #mar'i grayson #lian harper #jon kent #jai west #colin wilkes #milagro reyes #smutty headcanon #I regret...somethings lol #definitely going to hell

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chu-ni · 6 years

Text

candy jar -- ldh.

pairing: haechan x reader

genre: enemies to lovers?? yeah?? with some fluff?

warnings: swearing. so if you’re not into that,,,sad times :(

word count: 5.8k

a/n: in case u didn’t know this is based off the netflix film candy jar!! i got real inspired by it!!

also this is my first fic on this blog so like. please be nice sksk

“Look at him. Look at that smug look on his smug face,” you grumble under your breath, eyes shooting daggers at the boy currently sitting across from you. Ever since kindergarten, you and Lee Donghyuck (or Haechan, as he preferred to be called) have had a vendetta, of sorts.

It all started when he upstaged your speech on butterflies (which was very well written, if you said so yourself) back in kindergarten by singing a song about bees, bees, of all things! He even smiled at you as he did it. Since then, it seemed as though he’d made it his life’s mission to beat you at absolutely everything. You’d had a passion for debate as soon as you’d entered high school, and, lo and behold, your lifetime enemy had a passion for debate too. Now juniors, the both of you admittedly put a little less time into arguing with each other,and more into your studies, but after the previous captain of debate club had graduated last year, a kind upperclassman named Mark, the two of you were the top (and only willing) candidates to take his place. Your constant arguments about who should take over had resulted in the two of you currently being forced to spend some time in the counselor’s office.

“I don’t think you understand, Miss Johnson. I’m clearly more level headed and responsible than him, so I deserve the title of captain, obviously-”

“Obviously? Obviously a four time state qualifier like me deserves the title, and, when you consider the numerous contributions my parents have made to the debate club-”

“Here we go again, Donghyuck, always using your precious rich kid privilege to get what you want. Can’t you ever work for something you want like the rest of us?”

“If by ‘the rest of us’ you mean the likes of peasants, like you, then the answer is most definitely a solid no-”

“Oh my God, you’re so annoying!” You say, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“See? This is why I can’t work with her. How do you expect us to co-captain when she’s like this?”

Eyes narrowed, glaring at him, you snarl. “When I’m like what, Donghyuck?”

Pinching her nose bridge, the counsellor interrupts you two.

“Quiet, the both of you!”

You sink into your seat, cowed.

“Honestly. I asked the two of you to jointly run a group because I thought you’d be mature enough to set aside your differences– however silly they were– and work effectively. But clearly, my expectations were too high. The both of you can leave my office and return when you can speak to each other with some kind of civility.”

“But-” Haechan interjects.

“Out!” She snaps. “I wonder if the two of you are even human sometimes,” she mutters.

And with that, the two of you leave, shoving each other on your way out.

If it wasn’t bad enough that the two of you were forced to share a club together, it was even worse that the two of you were forced into sharing every class together, as well. As the bell rings, signifying an hour of sheer boredom with the one person you’d be happy to go the rest of your life without, you begin dragging yourself to your lesson when his voice pipes up.

“You know, that meeting would’ve gone a lot better if you’d just admitted the truth.”

Sighing, you look at him, already done with the conversation. “And what truth is that, Haechan? Please do enlighten me,”

“That I should be captain of the debate club. You can be my deputy, of course, that’s something you’re better suited to. But I would suit the position of captain a lot better than you. The sooner you accept that, the easier things will be.”

Your eyes narrow once more, and you honestly don’t know whether to be angry or just plain shocked that people– no– Donghyuck, can come up with such bullshit on a daily basis.

“And why would I suit the position of deputy more than being a captain, Haechan? Are you saying that because you’re a man, you’re better suited to positions of leadership? Or that I’m just supposed to sit down and accept all the bullshit you spew in an inferior position because that pea-brain of yours can’t wrap itself around the fact that a girl may be better qualified to lead than you?” He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, having had enough. “The amount of stupidity that you allow to leave your mouth astounds me, Lee Haechan, and unfortunately for you, I’m tired of listening to it.” With that, you stomp away from him, unbelievably irritated.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, and honestly, in between studying for upcoming tests and finishing off projects for various classes, so does the rest of the week, thankfully, with no further interaction with Donghyuck….which is what would’ve happened had it not been for the absolute bombshell dropped on you on Friday.

“The two of you are going to represent us in the state qualifiers for the youth debate prize!” Your principal, a portly man with a receding hairline and a suit that was way too tight on him squeals in joy.

You, in comparison are far from excited. In all honesty, you’d rather fling yourself from the nearest rooftop than work with him after your last full conversation with him, which, still makes your blood boil. However, luckily, your soon to be partner, the one and only Lee Donghyuck, feels the same way you do, judging from his thunderous expression. You watch as he inhales deeply, most likely preparing a long winded speech as to why he just cannot possibly work with you, but to your surprise, you hear a simple, concise,

“Fine.”

In a daze, you nod along, and are rushed out of the principal’s office. He doesn’t say a word to you after that, choosing to run ahead to his car, making his way home. Shaking your head, you also rush home, preparing some ideas on what points to make for the set topic the next time you see him. Hopefully, you think to yourself, the next time would be a lot more bearable.

The next time you see him is completely unbearable.

He refuses to listen, tries to one-up you at every turn, which is impossible considering you’re in a team, and his non stop snide remarks have you /this close/ to punching him in the balls.

“Donghyuck,” you hiss.

He stops whatever it is he’s doing with his cue cards for all of one, blissful second, and then promptly returns to being overall annoying.

“Donghyuck,” you snarl.

He turns to look at you this time, as though you were stopping him from doing something incredibly important. “Listen,” you start, “we aren’t getting anywhere like this.” at that, he scoffs. “You’re damn right about that.” Anger rises within you, but you push it down just so you can finish this conversation and go home already. “I think we should take a break and try again tomorrow, don’t you?” He’s silent for a few beats, and you think you’ve gotten through to him, that maybe you’ve found something to mutually agree on.

“How about we just do the work separately? I’ll plan the whole thing, and you can debate it on the day.” Of all the things you would’ve expected him to say (something more along the lines of “Thank God, I can’t wait to be as far away from you as possible!” or maybe a “Yes!”), you never thought he’d be the kind of person to say something like that. But, considering his opinion on being captain of the debate club, it begins to make sense.

“How about we actually try and work together? You agreed to us being a pair, so why don’t we at least try and share the work evenly, yeah?” You were surprising yourself with your suggestions, but you didn’t like the idea of leaving him to his own devices. “I know this may be hard for you to believe, Y/N,” he starts, “But newsflash! I don’t trust leaving you alone with something like this.” Breathing a heavy sigh, you try to get through to him, “Do I have to spell this out for you or something? We have accomplished nothing in the 2 hours we’ve been in this empty ass library, because you seem to have made it your daily mission to get under my skin. So could you be 10% less dickish for 5 minutes? Please?”

He looks deep in thought, before speaking, his blasé drawl already setting you on edge. “Hmm, maybe not.”

“Why? Why is listening to me so unbelievably hard for you?” You explode, exasperated.

“Let me spell things out for you, Y/N. Listening to you does absolutely nothing for me. I reap no rewards whatsoever, and I know your brain isn’t,” he pauses to double tap your forehead, “all there, but I thought you would’ve realised throughout this whole enemy thing that I am entirely self-serving. To put it bluntly, I don’t care.”

Maybe Donghyuck felt a little bit bad when he saw your eyes flash with something that was less anger and more hurt, but for some odd reason whenever it came to speaking with you, his mouth tended to have a mind of its own. Maybe it was rooted in the fact that he wanted his revenge from the last time the two of you said more than 2 words to each other, or maybe he took joy in seeing you angry around him. Actually, scratch that last one. Donghyuck was many things, but a sadist was not one of them.

“Do this whole thing by yourself then. As if I could ever work with an arrogant jerk like you,” you growl, voice ice cold, before leaving the library, trying (and failing) to slam the door behind you.

Walking, and then gradually running, out of school grounds, you cursed as a single tear rolled down your cheek. You’d never let anything he’d said get to you before, so why had it gotten to you now? And over a stupid joint project, of all things. Your heart knew why, obviously- you cared about his opinion of you, even if it was generally mutually pretty shit. Your mind, on the other hand– while still trying to figure out how to stop crying, as well as the root cause of Donghyuck’s extra dose of dickishness– was coming up blank.

For the next couple of weeks, you don’t speak to him. You don’t work on your upcoming debate for the state qualifiers, you don’t look at him in debate club, and you refuse to even acknowledge his existence, both in and out of school.

That is, until homecoming rolls around.

For most of your high school career, you’d been focused on your studies. After all, you were the first generation in your family to become a college student, so why not do even better and get into a good one–no, a great one. Why not try for Harvard? That had been your philosophy since you’d graduated middle school and so you’d thrown yourself into constant studying, extracurriculars, (90% of which you’d dropped during your first month) anything to boost your college application. It was never too early to be prepared, in your eyes. As a side effect of this, you were kind of, hopeless in the friendship department. To put it nicely, you were a loner. To put it bluntly, you had no friends.

You weren’t planning on going to the homecoming dance anyway, but your mom seemed hell-bent on giving you a life that didn’t revolve around studying and bickering with a certain arrogant 18 year old asshole, and so you ended up donning a modest red dress with some heels and saying goodbye to your mom the night of.

“You’re staying over at a friends house after the party, right?”

“Yes, mom. I’ll probably come home, anyway.”

“No! I want you to have some fun, for once! Live a little, huh?”

Looking her in the eyes, you whisper your assent, and turn to go, waving at her until you’re sure she’s gone inside. Once she is, you change your direction to your local movie theatre, ready for a nice night of movies and popcorn. It wasn’t like you hated homecoming, or dances in general, you just didn’t see the point of being a sweaty gym hall surrounded by hormonal teenagers and shitty music from the top 40.

You buy your first round of snacks and settle in to watch some throwaway rom-com with an mildly interesting plot. It’s okay, but you definitely could’ve chosen a better film to waste your time with, as you found your eyes fluttering shut at some parts. You head back out into the lobby and choose a more action packed film to watch, and as you finish paying for your second round of snacks, this time consisting of more chocolates and candy than popcorn, you come face to face with the one person you’d been avoiding so well for the past couple of weeks. The two of you make awkward eye contact, which you instantly break, by the way, upon discovery that he cleans up kind of.….nice.

Really nice, actually. Could it be that Donghyuck was actually kind of…hot?

You erase that thought the second it pops into your head. You absolutely refuse to see this boy, the bane of your existence for the past decade, as anything other than the arrogant ass he is. And yet, he really does look good in the plain white suit that seems to accentuate his lean figure. You’re brought out of your thoughts by him, currently looking a strange mix of shocked and confused.

“Uh…theatre two?”

You blink, before realising.

“Oh. oh! right, I’m gonna…go..now.”

You turn and run into the theatre, but this film seems to be even worse than the last one, the shitty CGI and cardboard acting sending you halfway to sleep in the first 30 minutes. You want to get up and leave, but you don’t want to go home too early and you don’t like the idea of having wasted all that money on a film you couldn’t even finish. So you force yourself to sit through the rest of it, focusing on finishing your snacks and trying to get interested in the film.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the film ends, and you leave the cinema, ready to go home and prepare a few lines about how fun homecoming was for your mom to hear when you bump into him.

Again.

You awkwardly smile at him before beginning to walk in your house’s direction, when he breaks the silence, speaking up. “You know, I never pegged you for the lonely type.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and seeing it makes you get a special kind of angry.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Donghyuck. Least of all with you.” you reply, already feeling irritation boil in your chest.

You begin to walk away once more, when the heel on your shoe just so happens to break, and you curse to yourself, wondering why this had to happen now of all times as you attempt (horribly) to fix your shoe.

“Uh, do you need- do you need a ride home?”

You freeze.

He’d never sounded so shy, so quiet, so, not him in the 15 years you’d known him. “Why would you wanna give me a ride?” you ask, apprehensive.

“I may not like you all that much, but even i was raised better than to leave a girl to walk home alone, y/n.” Gone was the timid tone from a few seconds ago – the caustic, teasing lilt you’d become accustomed to had returned. And somehow, that comforted you. Made you feel a lot more at ease than the almost nice version of Donghyuck you’d heard a few seconds earlier. You thought about his proposition for a little longer. Could you really trust him, of all people?

Yes. Yes you could.

“…..You’ll take me straight home?”

You swore you saw his eyes light up a little, but you put it to the back of your mind.

“This isn’t home, Hyuck.”

His heart speeds up a little at the nickname you’d used, and he hopes you don’t notice the surprise in his eyes as he turns away from the collection point at the drive-thru to face you.

“Your observational skills continue to amaze me, Y/N. Tell me, how do you do it?” you can feel the sarcasm dripping from his words, but refuse to deign him with a reply. “Besides, milkshakes and fries are a great combination. And you look like you need it.” You curl your lip in disgust as he hands you your meal. “This kind of stuff ruins your organs! It’s a recipe for type 2 diabetes, Hyuck, I’m telling you,” “I’m here for a good time, not a long time, babe!” he laughs as he starts the engine and begins to drive. “Where are we going now?” You ask, groaning in annoyance. “You’d be so much better looking if you didn’t talk so much, you know that? Just relax for once, yeah?” You stiffen at the first part of his sentence, but put it to the back of your mind as you stare out the car window, aloof. The rest of the ride thankfully passes by in silence, allowing you to get lost in your own thoughts. As much as you disliked Donghyuck, you had to appreciate the (albeit unexpected) gesture that he was making for you. the experience at the cinema earlier had kind of cemented the fact that you were kind of a loner, and hyuck had made you feel…not alone. You definitely wouldn’t call him a friend, but he was most definitely less of an enemy. You slide your eyes over to look at him, bored with the view from the window. You’d never noticed it before, but his profile was actually really beautiful. The moles dotted across his cheek and neck, the slope of his nose and his even, warm skin tone that seemed to radiate the sun, and the way his full lips settled into a natural pout…

Donghyuck was not a bad looking guy.

And for all his very many faults, being ugly was very much not one of them. So why had it taken you this long to notice?

“We’re here, dumbass.” You jump, shaken and you inwardly hope he hadn’t caught you staring-

“And stop staring at me. it’s creepy.”

With that, you clearly realised why it had taken that long to notice anything about Donghyuck aside from his annoyingly big stupid mouth that never seemed to shut up.

“I wasn’t staring at you, dumbass.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, sure.”

Following him to the peak of the hill he’d taken you to, you gasp. In front of you both laid the rest of the city in all of its glory. The lights dotted all over, showing a kaleidoscope of colour, the lake in the far distance, the trees within the various neighborhoods and green spaces….it was basic, but it took your breath away. Because you were so separate from it all, it gave you space to breathe, away from the hustle and bustle of your town.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“I know. Woah,” he replies, grinning. You didn’t know it, but taking you up here had been his way of apologising for how he’d treated you the last time you’d met. Hyuck was never the kind of person to apologize outright though, so this was the best you were going to get.

“This is…something else,”

As you got lost in the view below, it became Donghyuck’s turn to stare at you. Unlike you, he could actually get past the fact that you never stopped talking.

The first time he’d noticed you were somewhat beautiful was the beginning of sophomore year. You were both in the same classes for everything, but it was during a creative writing segment in English class that he’d realised you weren’t that bad. You were reading out a poem you’d written, shyly laughing to yourself when you’d made a small mistake and he’d thought you were actually kind of….cute. Of course, Hyuck would rather die than ever say that to your face, seeing as you’d never let him live it down, but it was nice to admire, wasn’t it?

“….Stop staring at me, it’s creepy!” you say, mocking his earlier tone. He should’ve been annoyed at that, but to his own surprise, he found it somewhat endearing.

“Why would I want to stare at someone like you?” He scoffed, looking away.

“If thats what helps you sleep at night, sure, Donghyuck. Sure.” You crooned, patting his head, to which he flinched away from in mock disgust.

“Ew.”

Dipping his now somewhat cold fry into his milkshake, he held it towards you. “Anyway, try this.” You looked back and forth between the fry and him for a few seconds, noticing his impatience, and snatched the fry out of his hand, taking a tentative bite. Chewing slowly, you smiled a little in acknowledgment. It actually wasn’t that bad. Doing the same thing with your own fries and milkshake, you found it was better than not bad. It was addicting, as you made a little noise of pleasure upon your third fry.

Watching you eat was probably the greatest thing Hyuck had ever had the pleasure of seeing, and the warm feeling he got when you smiled was something he was just going to have to address another day. Maybe he liked you, he thought. Maybe. But he’d sooner die than say that out loud, so for now he just enjoyed the food with you.

“I told you it was amazing,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow and you knew he was right, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Eh. they were okay, I guess.”

Jaw dropped and eyebrows raised, he gaped at you in confusion.

“Okay!? This is the best combination known to man, I’ll have you know!”

You shrugged. “Maybe to you. The real best combination is and always will be, fries with ice cream of course,”

“You literally said that was a recipe for type 3 diabetes.”

“I said it was a recipe for type 2 diabetes, dimwit. Type 3 doesn’t even exist!”

The two of you continue to bicker like that for a couple of hours, before you both notice the time and rush to head home, stomachs full and a newfound understanding between you. As the both of you arrive outside your house, the air is clearly thick with unsaid words.

You’re the first to break the silence.

“I…I really enjoyed it.”

Taking a deep breath, you continue,

“This whole thing, I mean. So… thanks, I guess.”

Hyuck nods, saying a few words of his own.

“I'm….happy I bumped into you tonight.”

Stuttering, he continues,

“And-and I wouldn’t mind if you’d want- if you’d want to do this again, sometime?” He sounded unsure and shy, and of all things, Donghyuck hated sounding unsure, and he hated sounding anything less than confident, but you understood him all the same.

You whisper, “I think I’d like that too.”

You stare at each other a little while longer, before you break the trance by shaking your head. Clearing your throat, you make your way out of the car and move to go inside, turning around one last time.

The two of you make brief eye contact, to which you both smile, and only when you’ve finally gone inside do you hear the rumble of his car driving off.

Monday arrives, and the other members of your debate club, which consist of two loud sophomores named Jisung and Chenle, another stuck-up senior named Nancy, and a quiet freshman named Herin, are surprised to see that you and Donghyuck aren’t arguing with each other today. The dirty looks and snide comments are gone, instead replaced with a quiet respect for each other. You’re surprised as well, to see that you can actually hold a conversation with the guy without wanting to rip your hair out for the first time in, well, ever.

He stops you after debate club ends, and for once you don’t automatically feel angry.

“Do you wanna…maybe….try again with the whole project thing?” He’s quiet, and you had to strain to hear him a little, but you found his sudden shyness charming, to say the least. You were beginning to see Haechan as less of an arrogant jerk and more of a…tolerable acquaintance. Who was also kinda cute, and kinda nice. At times.

“Do you promise to listen to me this time?” You look at him expectantly.

“Yes, I promise. I’ll even tone down the dickishness!” He grins for good measure, and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your heart do flips.

You raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll stop the dickishness,” he grumbles, looking up at you through his eyelashes, which, you realised, were actually pretty long, and pretty adorable, and pretty… pretty.

Hold up.

Since when had you begun using the same adjectives to describe something? You were going to have to do something about this sudden onslaught of feelings, but it felt nice to like someone, even if that someone was Lee Donghyuck.

“So shall we start planning at mine tomorrow?” You snap out of your blatant staring (to which Donghyuck notices, but doesn’t bring up to spare you the embarrassment) in time to catch that final question, and you hum in agreement. He smiles at you again, before waving goodbye and heading off.

You make your own way home as well, a skip in your step and a grin on your face. You spend the rest of your day organising files and the like and preparing things to bring for tomorrow, which you are more than excited about, for some reason. School passes by fairly quickly the next day. You have a pop quiz you think you did okay on, you turn in homework you know you did great on, and you try your best to focus in class, but your mind keeps wandering to him. And a small part of you is kicking, screaming, and outright yelling at you to stop liking him, that you aren’t supposed to like him, that he’s just an arrogant jerk– but the larger part of you is just going with the flow and enjoying the moment while it lasts. You don’t want to like him, but you don’t have the energy to fight against your own feelings when, for once, you don’t have anything to despise him for.

The bell rings at the end of your final lesson, and you find him waiting outside for you, something that already makes your heart flutter. He grabs your hand and almost drags you to his car, a light blue convertible, and you try not to stutter at the feeling of his warm hand and how perfectly it fits into yours.

“Of course you’d have a car like this, Hyuck.” He smiles softly at the nickname, before processing the rest of what you just said. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” He splutters, indignant. “Whatever you want it to mean, I guess,” you sigh, relaxed. Donghyuck’s eyes widen. He wasn’t used to not arguing over anything and everything with you, but the silence between you two becomes a comfortable one for the rest of the ride.

You pull up by his house, and you gasp upon entering. A chandelier hangs in the entry lobby, the walls are decorated with modern art, and a white and gold colour scheme occurs throughout the house. After removing your shoes, Haechan signals you to follow him up the stairs, and you go into his room, which looks as average as any other teenage boy’s room. The colour scheme in here is different to the rest of the house, the walls painted a warm orange. There are a few t-shirts strewn across the floor, a desk in one corner with a laptop and various folders, books and stationery piled onto it. Posters of famous films like pulp fiction, kill bill, and the like decorate the walls, and by his bed you notice a stack of records with music from artists like Michael Jackson and Prince that’s dangerously close to toppling over. The room’s kind of messy, but it’s distinctly Donghyuck, so it doesn’t bother you.

You watch as he flings himself onto his bed, huffing a sigh of tranquility. “Do you wanna get started? I can go downstairs and get us some snacks, if you want,” he says, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I’d like that,” you smile, and begin to set up your various point cards and cue cards in preparation for your upcoming debate. You’re going over a positive of your proposed argument (which discusses how beneficial a college education is, by the way) when Haechan returns with cookies that smell absolutely heavenly. He offers you one, and you bite into it, moaning in contentment. “These are great,” you giggle. “Who made them?” You ask. “I did, actually.” He mumbles. You pause your happy chewing to look at him. A light dust of pink had settled on his cheeks, and he’d begun fiddling with the edge of one of his cue cards, clearly a little embarrassed. “You- You’re a great baker, Haechan.” You whisper, lightly breaking the silence. He looks up at you, still a little red in the face, then looks off to one side once he notices your sincerity. “Th-thanks,” he mutters. “You know,” he begins, substantially louder and more confident than before, “that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” a knowing grin settles onto his face as he looks at you, and as you meet his stare, you suddenly take note of how close he’s gotten. “Could it be,” he murmurs, voice having dropped an octave, “that you like me?” Your eyes flit back and forth from his lips to his eyes, and you don’t even have time to reply before his lips are on yours.

You freeze, unsure of what to do.

At your lack of response, he begins to pull away, but you pull him back into you, moving your lips against his. He feels soft, billowy, and like everything you’ve ever wanted. If your heart went any faster than it already was you’d probably get some kind of heart problem, but you’d happily suffer cardiac arrest if it meant always being able to kiss him like this. Your eyes are shut, meaning you can’t see anything, obviously, but somehow there’s still an explosion of colour behind them. You tingle, from your head to your toes and you wonder why the hell it took you two this long to do anything like this. You sigh when his hands pull you closer by your waist, and it’s then when he pulls away. Subconsciously, you follow his lips, your eyes opening at the sound of his laugh.

“Was I that amazing?” He giggles, lips slightly reddened.

“Don’t say it like that, dumbass.”, You grumble, “It makes it sound weird.”

“Just admit it, Y/N. You like me,” he croons in a sing-song voice. Part of you wants to punch him, but you roll your eyes and look him dead in the eye instead.

“Maybe I do. What about it, Donghyuck?”

He feels a shudder down his spine at your use of his first name, but he likes it. All throughout middle and high school, he’d made everybody call him by his middle name, Haechan, because he thought it sounded better. But he found himself thoroughly enjoying the fact that you were the one who said his first name to him. Why he suddenly enjoyed it moreso in this situation than all the other times you’d called him by his first name, he did’nt know. Probably because all the other times you were growling, snarling and hissing it at him, and this time you sounded kind of..normal.

“Nothing. Just say my name again, please?”

“Don’t tell me that’s your kink.” You deadpan.

“Only when you say it, babe,”

“God, I hate you,” You growl, trying to get away from him, but he holds you in place, grinning at you.

“You know, you were a lot more bearable when you were kissing me,” you pout.

“Then make me bearable,” he says, staring directly at your lips.

And you do, leaning into him again, feeling content, happy, and just right.

The two of you begin a thing, after that day. Not quite dating, but not quite single either. For now, you’re both content just hanging out in his car and making out at various intervals and going on study dates that always end with no work done, but you don’t mind it. You aren’t really sure you mind anything, when he’s around.

The day of the debate qualifiers comes and goes without a hitch. As a pair, the both of you do well enough to make it to the finals, but you lose to a pair who seemed a lot more emotionally invested in the argument, and although you lost, you didn’t feel all that disappointed, because you won in a different way. You won an okay looking, nice enough, somewhat-boyfriend-who-wasn’t-a-boyfriend-yet, and you were happy with that. As the two of you leave the competition hall, ready to hop in Donghyuck’s car and go home, you ask him a question.

“When did you realise you liked me?”

He hums in thought, “Hmm….I liked you since sophomore year, but I think I only realised it when I took you on our first date.”

“You mean when you stopped me from going home and forcibly kept me with you as you fed me milkshakes and fries? That date?”

“Yes, that date.” He sighed in exhaustion. He liked you, a lot. Maybe even loved you. But absolutely nobody knew how to get on his nerves the way you did. And that would’ve angered him, if not for the fact that he could do the exact same thing to you.

You arrive at his car, and as you both strap yourselves in, you decide to ask another question.

“I- I am your girlfriend, right?”

Donghyuck slowly turned to look at you, face blank.

“Of course not,” he begins, “I just make out with you and take you on dates and bake you food for all of no reason, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms and looked out the window, just for an excuse to look away from him.

“You’re so mean,”

“But you love me anyway!” He beamed, and maybe, maybe just maybe, you did.

“Just kiss me, idiot,”

“My pleasure, dumbass.”

#haechan x reader #nct dream imagines #haechan imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct #lee donghyuck #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct x reader #enemies to lovers #lee haechan #lee haechan x reader

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lifeinahole27 · 6 years

Text

CS ff: “On the Two” (Chapter 9/9) (au)

Summary: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Rating: E

Content Warnings: Borderline alcoholism, very brief mentions of past relationships, mentions of the loss of a limb - this fic is primarily tame but I’ll do my best to tag anything that might need tags.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Mentions of sex.

A/N: I cannot express my full gratitude that you’ve read this whole fic. I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed it and I can’t wait to see what I produce for the next one! Much love and appreciation for all of you reading this! <3

Catch it on FFN & Ao3! Or find the previous chapters here on Tumblr!

There’s something to be said for having a girlfriend who dances. Emma’s definitely agile, and while she’s incredibly fit she’s still soft in all the right places. By now, Killian knows she sleeps in next to nothing and eats junk food as much as possible, with her snacks as fruits and vegetables in order to mislead people into believing she’s some kind of health nut. These are all things he knew before the summer at Camp Hope ended and life after began.

Thankfully, the list of things he knows about Emma just keeps getting longer.

“Not on the one, darling,” he murmurs against her ear, his hand resting on her stomach with her back against his chest. He tenses his fingers momentarily so she chortles in his hold. She’s ticklish, he’s discovered, and has exploited this fact many times over now. And when she’s not on a deadline, it’s so easy to derail any kind of attempt at dance rehearsals.

This studio is different than the one at camp. For one, there’s no issue with the heating and air conditioning, which is good considering it’s been snowing for three and a half days and shows no signs of stopping. But they’re cozy inside the studio space with hours to spare thanks to it being so close to the holidays.

Another difference in the studios is that this one is downstairs from Emma and Ruby’s apartment. The living space had come first, when they’d found the perfect apartment with just the right amount of space and the perfect price tag.

Downstairs, there’d been an empty retail rental big enough to be a studio. It had taken time, and some help from David and Snow (their way of making amends for what they later claimed was a huge oversight in their judgement), but they’re preparing to do a Grand Opening ceremony in two weeks to mark the official start of business. They’ve taken on a few private clients, but soon they’ll have classes and lessons of all kinds. They’ve even found a couple more teachers interested in employment.

With the two women on holiday break from the hotel’s entertainment schedule, Ruby drove up to Storybrooke to spend some time with Granny and Mulan. Already, she’s been able to go see her family and girlfriend more than expected since moving out of Boston.

That leaves the apartment free for Emma and Killian to spend their own time together. Today, with the snow continuing to thwart any plans they may have made, they’re down in the studio. The front of the building is all windows, and looks in at the space where Ruby or Emma will hold classes for groups of people. There are two slightly smaller spaces, however, and one of them is windowless, a line of mirrors against one wall, and a solid door so no one can peek in.

It’s not that anyone would be doing so today, of all days. Again, with the studio closed and the place to themselves, there’s no chance anyone will walk in on them. That’s a good thing, too, when Emma promptly abandons the steps to slide down Killian’s body, taking his sweatpants down as she goes. Thankfully, they’re near enough the wall that he leans forward, bracing his left forearm on the mirrored surface and reaching down to rest his hand on the back of her neck just as she engulfs him in one slick slide.

He had no idea the sex could get better, but he’s never claimed to know everything.

Afterwards, when they’re both satisfied and sprawled on the floor, Emma bundles up one of their shirts for Killian to use as a pillow before resting her cheek on his chest. Her breath ruffles the hair that’s slowly growing back, and he feels the way she smiles as she must notice the same thing. With wispy touches, she traces along his chest, around a nipple, and down his stomach. Her body starts shaking with mirth as Killian groans. It’s been five minutes, and yet his body already wants to start again. She’s brilliant at eliciting such a response from him.

“Darling, we need a bed if you wish to go for another round. And water. I need to rehydrate after that.”

She chuckles out loud this time, lifting herself to a sitting position next to him with one hand resting on his stomach. “Good idea. Maybe some food, too. Oh! D’you wanna make pancakes?”

“Whatever your heart desires, love.”

She grins, her eyes crinkling up as she does. Her hair is an absolute tangle, the last of the sweat still drying at her temples, but she looks even more beautiful every time he looks at her. “Come on, sailor.” She stands up, holding out a hand to help him up.

“Now, why does this feel awfully familiar? But I seem to remember being fully clothed the first time we did this.”

At mention of their disastrous first meeting, Emma throws her head back and laughs. He smiles as he watches her, taking in the relaxed stance despite her total lack of clothing. He lines up the images in his mind of that first memory of her hovering over him, her face pinched in annoyance, her lips pursed as she tried to coax him off the ground. How long ago that night feels compared to where they are now.

With one more bracing breath, Killian sits up, taking her offered hand and helping to gather their clothes. They’ll clean later, top to bottom, as they did with the camp studio. For now, however, he wants to make her some hot chocolate and help her with the pancakes. They slide on only what’s necessary, and then Killian sends her on her way up the back entrance while he gathers the rest of their discarded clothing. He pauses before he shuts off the lights, looking at the man that stands in the mirror and smiling. If he could go back to May and let his past self in on the secret, he may have been less reluctant to go to camp, even if it all seems surreal.

He never figured dancing would become something he did on the side. To his surprise, Regina had followed through with the offer to sign Killian on as a part-time entertainer, even after she learned that he was a total amateur, taught only in the weeks leading up to their performance. Twice now, he’s danced on their performing nights, once with Emma and once with Ruby. They’ve even started teaching him a few new dances that they’ll start using after the New Year begins so he has more than a single Mambo in his repertoire.

It was all a whirlwind after the summer ended at Camp Hope. He and Emma had a week in the city together before she and Ruby began hunting for a new apartment. He helped any way he could, but mostly he was happy to be able to take Emma out on dates after their initial return. When she officially relocated to Portland, he weighed his options for a couple weeks before deciding it was also time for a change of scenery for him.

But instead of moving to Portland with Emma, he went further. One weekend in October before the hotel job officially began, when she was tied up with planning meetings with Ruby and Regina, Killian drove to Storybrooke. He took David and Snow out to dinner, and informed them he wanted to move to town, and that he’d like to offer his services for maintaining the camp.

It was awkward, at first, with David. Somehow, the entire time they talked, Killian was sure the man was going to forbid him from seeing Emma, like Killian was a suitor for David’s princess daughter, but the demand never came. The dinner helped to smooth over the last rough edges from the incident over the summer, and it helped that they got to see how dedicated he was to helping around the camp – that he intended on staying in Emma’s life.

After seeing what Killian could still do as far as repairs and maintenance to the cabins, the tension eased even further. When the spring hits, Killian will go to camp again to help Marco, their lead wood-worker, to make some renovations. He’s discovered that he works wonderfully with the older man, even if his adult son, August, can be a bit much sometimes.

Killian shakes his thoughts free, finally extinguishing the lights and locking up the studio before jogging up the steps. He heads straight to Emma’s room to drop their clothes and tie on his robe, smiling for what feels like the millionth time today when he sees Emma’s missing from the hook.

The pancakes end up taking a little longer than he or Emma intended, primarily because she looks too tempting in her robe, standing there mixing batter as she hums along to whatever song is playing from the radio in the kitchen. He presses up close behind her, finding a spot just above her ear as he inhales.

“Something smells delicious.”

“I haven’t even started cooking them, yet.”

“I’m not talking about the pancakes,” he says, moving forward to nuzzle the side of her face.

Her smile grows, and she spins around to kiss him, then – fiercely and fondly all in the same move – until she breaks away. Her eyes search his face as her hands rub up to his shoulders and back down.

“What?” There’s something there behind her expression, but she doesn’t look sad or upset, so he knows the answer can’t be bad.

“I’m just… happy. Still surprises me sometimes.”

With a sweeping look of his own, he gives her a small smile. “Aye, love. Me too.”

She leans up, then, kissing him again, letting it quickly morph from a tender moment to one filled with passion. She has him backed up against the table in no time, one hurried “To hell with the pancakes,” thrown out for good measure as she takes control of the kiss. Their robes are pushed off to the side, dropped to the floor like their clothes were earlier, and they truly put the kitchen table to the ultimate test of how much weight and activity can take place on top of it without collapsing.

Killian makes a mental note to thoroughly clean the kitchen when they’re done, as well.

With one kind of appetite filled once more, they finally get down to the business of making their very late second breakfast. The rest of the day is spent on the couch in their pajamas, fuzzy blankets wrapped around the both of them as they catch up on whatever is on her Netflix queue.

It’s been six months since they met, and five since things took a turn for romance, but Killian’s mind wanders away to what comes next. It’s those thoughts of the future that follow him into his dreams, and he wonders what kind of ring Emma might like best.

-x-

“Killian’s going to ask me to marry him,” Emma says quietly into her phone. The screeching response is loud to her own ears, so she’s glad she’s sitting in the living room and far away from the man in question, soundly sleeping in her bed.

It takes Ruby just a couple seconds to calm down again before she starts her line of questions. “Wait, did you talk to him about it? How do you know this?”

“So, Killian talks in his sleep. Not often, and most of the time it’s total nonsense, but I was just dozing off last night when he grabbed my hand and asked me what kind of ring I want him to get. Completely asleep, dead to the world, and he just told me he wants to marry me.”

He never talked when they were sleeping together at the camp. It wasn’t until about a month of actually dating him that he first babbled some words at her as she was waking up to make breakfast at his apartment. Last night was the clearest he’s ever spoken to her in his sleep, though, as if the message defied being garbled by sleep.

Once, the very thought of getting married would cause her chest to constrict in panic. Now, however, she has that feeling you get when you’re trying not to laugh while speaking. As it is, she can’t fight the blissful smile stretching across her whole face.

“And what kind of ring should I tell him to get when he asks?”

“His subconscious has already ruined part of the mystery. Let it be a surprise. I trust you to know what I like.” “And you’re not freaking out?” “You know, I would’ve a couple months ago. Probably right after we slept together I still would’ve run away. But now,” she pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe how she’s feeling. She wants to run, all right, straight down an aisle with Killian waiting for her at the end of it.

“Now it’s just right?” Ruby finishes for her.

“Exactly. Okay. Merry Christmas and all that, in case I don’t talk to you tomorrow. Send my best to Mulan, and tell Granny thanks for the cookies. We have been steadily working our way through them since we opened the package.”

“We already finished ours, honestly. And same to you and Killian. You guys coming up tomorrow or Christmas Day?”

“Tomorrow, as long as the roads are clear. I think the snow was due to stop last night.”

“Good. Drive carefully. Try not to have sex on everything.”

“Too late,” Emma says. Chortling as Ruby starts squawking again on the other line. “Okay, bye!” She ends the call before she gets hearing damage in her ear, still chuckling to herself as she stands up from the ball she’d curled up into on the couch. With a long stretch and yawn, Emma makes her way back to the bedroom where Killian is still sleeping.

She tilts her head as she looks at him from the doorway, his face eased of any expression, his breathing soft and even. His brace and prosthetic are sitting on a shelf she installed especially for him, and his hand rests on the spot she vacated in her need to bubble over with her secret just a bit ago.

Once, Emma found Killian sleeping on the side of a trail, and the thought of that shared memory from the day before makes her snort. The noise causes Killian to stir, and he blinks his eyes open to search for her.

“Coming back t’ bed, love?”

“Yeah, be right there,” she tells him, turning once to go use the bathroom and get a glass of water before she curls up with Killian again. She knows that with the late hours they kept the night before and all their strenuous activity, they’re likely to stay in bed all morning if they can. It is Christmas Eve-Eve, and they have nowhere to be today.

There’s still a nervous flutter in her belly as she climbs back into the bed, back into the sleepy embrace Killian bestows upon her after she’s situated under the covers. She rests with her head on his shoulder, his arm loosely wrapped around her back, and thinks about how much life has changed since this time last year. For one, her bed was definitely empty. And for another, her bed was in Boston, her heart locked away, her future uncertain.

Now she’s snuggled to a man that helped her move this bed into this very room, with her heart next to his, and she’s happier than she ever imagined she could be. And now, apparently, he wants to marry her. It takes a lot of effort to not let the giddy laughter erupt once more, and she focuses instead on the other developments that have taken place to get her mind off the elephant in the unconsciousness.

When she moved to Portland, Emma wasn’t sure what was going to happen with her relationship with Killian. They’d barely made it past a third date before she and Ruby signed a lease for this place, so there was a lot she and Killian hadn’t been able to discuss yet. She knew she loved him, and that he loved her. And that alone was a shock, still. Of all things Emma was expecting from camp this year, falling in love in such a short period of time was not one of them.

Though they hadn’t been together long, that didn’t make Emma any less sure of her emotions. She kind of figured when she was willing to invite him to her cabin that night after their performance that it had to be something bigger than a one night stand.

And then came the end of camp. Killian and Liam both stuck around after all the guests checked out to help out any way they could. Killian explained later that he felt he owed it to David and Snow for not decking him on the spot, and he wanted to give them back something for all they gave to him. Even after the studio was cleaned and locked up for the season, and her car packed to the brim with all their gear, he still stuck around.

There were several jobs that Killian was perfectly fit for, given his background in building things, and he helped Leroy make some repairs, helped Marco fix up some of the furniture in a cabin where he hadn’t had time to update it yet, and he helped David with anything the man even hinted at needing help with. Sure, they snarked their way through any and every job they did together, but Emma could see at the end of their clean-up week that David was fighting smiles when Killian made a joke.

When she moved, Killian took the initiative to go make solid amends with her brother and sister-in-law. She was busy with rehearsals for an upcoming show at the hotel, but Killian assured her he would be fine, that he would backtrack and spend the night in Portland with her after dinner was completed. It was still nerve-wracking to wait around for news of that dinner, however. Almost worse than waiting for Regina when she and Ruby went to sign their contracts.

Of course, he surprised her in the best way possible when he told her he was moving to Storybrooke.

“I don’t ever want to make you choose between visiting me, and visiting your family. So I’m moving to where they are. David and Snow have even offered to lease out their old loft to me until I find a place of my own.”

The loft was a first home on their own for all of them, at one point or another. After Ruth passed away and David and Snow moved out to her old farmhouse, no one could see fit to let go of the apartment, so they sublet it during the summer months and kept it, just in case. And now, full circle, Killian was living in it. Because they hadn’t really talked about the future or what comes next between them, he’s just been nestled there until further notice.

It does make it really handy when she has a week off and she can hop up to see the Nolans. She stays with Killian and gets to see everyone for days on end, which is just about the most settled she’s felt since Ruth first took her in.

Killian mumbles in his sleep, turning to press his nose against her forehead, barely kissing the skin before he falls back to sleep once more. Emma wonders if they ever truly relaxed at camp, given how much more comfortable they seem to be now that it’s all said and done. Not that it really matters, since it all worked out, but she wonders what she would’ve done had her family truly banished her. She wouldn’t have let them. She shouldn’t have left like she did – especially without giving Killian a way to contact her – but she would’ve made sure it all worked out this way no matter what.

Her boyfriend’s budding friendship with her family is all just a bonus. As is her own slow-building relationship with Liam. Just as Killian experienced pushback with David, Emma had some problems getting along with Liam right off the bat. She’s pretty sure he was just looking out for Killian, but it took a heated conversation to turn it around. He’d been touting how he waited to start courting Tink until after camp was finished and they had time to get to know each other.

In one instance, it was a lovely lunch at Killian’s apartment in Boston right after she moved to Portland. In the next, the brothers were angrily talking over one another about morals and propriety and she thinks there was something about disrespect? She lost track quickly. She just remembers standing up between the two of them and telling them to both shut the hell up so they could talk it out like adults or take it out back like children.

It took some extra rum and whiskey, and another beer for her, but they hashed it all out that night. Liam is, as she guessed, incredibly protective of his younger brother. And changes had taken place really fast in their lives. She was the force that was taking Killian away from Liam, though she didn’t know that at the time. When Killian moved, she made a promise to Liam that she would keep on Killian to call and FaceTime with his brother, but she’s never had to remind him once in the last couple months.

It helps that Liam comes up to Storybrooke once or twice a month on the weekends to visit Tink, so that the brothers don’t ever feel truly separated. And it also helps that Liam has seen the full turn-around in Killian from the beginning of the summer. Now, when Killian has a glass of rum, he stops at one. Full bottles are not a rarity anymore. In fact, since he moved, she’s pretty sure the same bottle of rum has been in his liquor stash.

After spending most of the morning doing absolutely nothing, Emma finally shoos Killian out of bed so she can get her laundry done and pack for the week they’re staying in Storybrooke. He helps by cleaning almost the entire apartment while she works on her task, helping to load up her laundry basket when it’s all done and bring it down the hall to her bedroom.

They make dinner together, a simple meal of spaghetti since there’s nothing left in the fridge. They make hot cocoa again after they’ve cleaned up from their meal, settling on the couch to watch Christmas movies until bedtime. She’s a little sad that the apartment is mostly bare of decorations. They put up a few small ones, but no tree this year.

First, neither she nor Ruby will be home to enjoy it on Christmas day, so what was the point. And second, it didn’t fit in the storage space located outside their door, so Emma reluctantly kept it in Storybrooke this year. So while the urge to decorate simmers in her right this very minute, it’s not like she even can. She tides herself over with a reminder that there will be a tree at David and Snow’s place, and she’ll appreciate that one to the fullest.

The drive up the coast is about what Emma was expecting it would be. Enough of the snow has melted down that it’s not treacherous, but it’s not a quick and easy drive, either. Because of this, they end up arriving at the town line about an hour and a half beyond what they were hoping for.

“We’ll just come straight out to the farmhouse,” Emma says to Snow on the phone.

“No, honey, go to the loft and settle in a bit. We can wait. Dinner’s not for hours, still. We understand.”

Even though she protests one more time that she wants to see them, and sooner rather than later, Snow still insists they go do what they need to at the loft first. Maybe if she wasn’t so tired from the constant vigilance on the trip up, she would’ve caught the note in Snow’s voice letting her know something was up.

But because she is that exhausted from the drive, she’s still completely blown away when Killian shoulders open the door to the apartment and they’re greeted with a puff of warm air and the scent of cinnamon instead of the chilled exterior they were expecting to come back to.

The whole place is decorated like Snow and David used to, with lights hanging from the exposed beams and railing of the loft above. The lamps suspended above the breakfast bar have tinsel wrapped around them, and the lights switched to red and green – something that used to absolutely delight Emma when she used to come over around the holidays. The one winter she was living here, they did the same thing, and that’s probably exactly why they did all this now.

“Surprise!” Snow says as she rounds the tree – Emma’s tree – set up in the corner by the bathroom, placing an ornament and sprucing as she goes. Her sister-in-law beams as she looks at Emma’s wonderment, and she finally remembers to close her mouth and push Killian through the door when David snorts from upstairs.

“We thought we’d give you a true Storybrooke welcome,” her brother says as he comes down the stairs, grabbing Emma’s suitcase and moving it to the side so he can shut the door behind the two of them. He helps Emma with her coat, taking Killian’s as well and hanging them on the hooks by the door. Only then does Emma remember how to function, to slip off her snow boots and take off her hat and gloves, stashing them in the appropriate places, only vaguely aware of Killian doing the same beside her.

After that, her only goal is to hug David and Snow. She starts with her brother, as he’s closest, and then to Snow who is painstakingly placing tinsel on the tree, making sure each and every strand looks perfect. “We were going to wait,” Snow explains, opening her arms and accepting the tight hug Emma gives her. “But we also wanted to surprise you once the drive kept getting longer and longer. We had plenty of time.”

There are even two stockings hung from screws in the brick wall, hung with twine so they rest just at the height they’d be at if there was a fireplace and mantel here. Hers is old and worn – the one that Ruth made for her when she first came to live with the Nolans – but Emma can see that the purple thread that spells her name has been refreshed with some glittery yarn accents. And now, one adorned with Killian’s name hangs next to it. She sees that he’s finally moved, as well, his fingers gliding along the delicately embroidered red.

“Look inside,” Snow urges, going to stand with David as the other two stand in awe of their stockings.

Killian casts one glance Emma’s way, lifting his eyebrow in question and she shrugs in response. In unison, they reach into the stockings and pull out small items wrapped in tissue paper. The item from hers feels like fragility, and she’s not mistaken when she unwraps the milky glass of a hand-blown ornament shaped like a swan. It’s likely by someone in town, and Emma makes a mental note to ask who so she can thank them in person, but her gaze is caught by Killian’s ornament.

It’s clearly one made by Marco, the handcrafted carving too detailed and precise to be done by anyone else, and she thinks it’s just a tall ship until Killian laughs once, finding the little pirate flag attached. Clearly, Marco had wheedled Killian’s love of ships and pirates out of her boyfriend at some point during their work together. She imagines he must’ve spent weeks working on this one ornament and adds a second trip to their thank-you-tour for the days following Christmas.

“Thank you,” Emma says as she turns to David and Snow. “For all of this.” She gestures to the apartment in whole, from tree to lights to stockings.

“We just thought it would be nice for your first Christmas back to feel as close to home as possible.”

She just barely stops herself from crying, but it’s a close thing. And now, with the ornaments, it’s not just Emma’s first Christmas, but both of theirs.

That night, Emma watches the lights stretch and twinkle as her eyes grow heavy. She and Killian are wrapped around each other, the blankets tightly tucked around them to keep out the December chill. She stares at everything they kept lit, watching some strands cycle through their programmed flashing and dancing.

Knowing that Killian is likely to ask her a very important question soon, Emma lets herself daydream about what a future with him will look like beyond the new year, or even the next one to come. If she squints just the right way, the loft transforms into somewhere bigger, and theirs. With rooms to fill with decorations and no landlords. She sees little shoes lined up by the ones they would keep at the door, and a little girl balanced on Killian’s feet as they dance together in the living room.

The image is so startlingly clear that Emma almost declares that they start trying right now, but she settles for slowly coaxing Killian back to full wakefulness, initiating lovemaking so sweet that her heart almost bursts with happiness somewhere in the middle, let alone the end that leaves her sweaty and panting and satisfied but craving, as always. He gives her everything she asks for and more, only letting himself chase release when he feels she’s been thoroughly pleased, and he kisses her tenderly after they’ve both cleaned up and crawled back into bed, whispering his love and merry wishes as they both drift off together.

A few days after the most perfect Christmas Emma could’ve ever imagined, she gets roped into making breakfast with Snow while David and Killian go out in search of more hot chocolate packets. When they come back, it might be her imagination but David’s eyes look a little misty. If Snow notices at all, she doesn’t say anything, and David must not share with her over the next couple months, because her sister-in-law is notoriously terrible at keeping secrets.

In the end, Killian hands her a ring of a different kind first, to a grand Victorian that she used to admire every time she drove by it, close to the water and large enough for her own practice space and a workshop for Killian. The other ring comes later, when they’re lying in bed together a year to the date after their first performance. Their future unfolds in the facets and sparkle, in the way Emma says yes after she slides to kneel on the floor in front of him.

Their first dance as husband and wife is definitely not a Mambo.

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #captain swan au #sarah writes ff #cs multichap

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killianmesmalls · 6 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where W!Killian parents Robin M. after she does something stupid. (Because I love your thoughts on Killian and parenting.)

Hope this works!

Killian didn’t understand the other realm’s obsession with the number eighteen. Adulthood, he found, didn’t come from a number that magically had one blossom fully functional at midnight of their eighteenth birthday, but rather through an individual’s maturity. In his day, adolescence wasn’t truly acknowledged, one had to behave as an adult in their teenage years, sometimes earlier.

These days, though, the added some was a luxury, one he had intended to give his Alice for as long as possible. He cursed himself for the outcome, but a twinge of bittersweet pride niggled his heart when he realized she was still full of her whimsical, childlike wonder. Robin, on the other hand...

And why so many children felt the need to grow up so soon he had no idea. He would have killed for a few more years of childhood. Instead? Well.

He shook off the thought as Robin stormed past him, rolling her eyes as Zelena bolted after her. “I’m eighteen!” she said for Killian thought to be the thousandth time. “You can’t control me anymore!”

“I can—”

“What? Take away my phone? It doesn’t even work in this realm! Ground me? We don’t even stay in one place long enough between traveling with the rebellion, checking back in with Storybrooke, and trying to find a home of our own here. Besides, I should be allowed to come and go as I please. If I’m old enough to join the fight, here or back home, then I’m old enough to decide that I can be out until whatever time I want.”

Killian was careful not to stare; it wasn’t in his nature to get involved in someone else’s family business. However, when Zelena threw up her hands and stomped off in the other direction, his paternal urges nagged at the back of his mind.

“Ugh!” Robin growled dramatically, plopping down onto a nearby log. “I can’t believe her!”

Killian sighed, choosing to believe she had intended for him to listen rather than bursting with a hormone-filled rhetorical shout. “It’s a parent’s prerogative to worry. It never goes away, no matter how old their child is or how mature they believe themselves to be.”

He let the words hang there, and could see Robin processing them with a defensive scowl. “I’m eigh—”

“Eighteen. Yes,” he said, rising from his own perch and gesturing with his head down the path. “Fancy a walk? Could be good for blowing off steam, and I feel like a chat might be in order.”

Robin’s brow furrowed, her answer caught in her throat for a moment, but as he kept his soft eyes on her she finally nodded and rose to her feet. “Yeah, a walk couldn’t hurt.”

It had been a couple of months since the girl had joined their team, and a few weeks since she’d met Alice in the woods. Killian smiled as he recounted how she’d later spoken to him privately about their evening together, recalling the giddiness in her eyes once she’d finished her story but still rambled about Alice’s goodness and strength. Since then, he’d encouraged Robin to visit his daughter, believing both girls needed a friend between their new homes and increasing freedom.

They wandered in silence, Killian waiting for Robin’s breathing to even and her muscles to relax. Then, just as he sensed her wishing to fill the awkward quiet, he cleared his throat. “I want to start by thanking you for being so kind and supportive to Alice. To me, she’s perfect, but of course I’m her father. From what I’ve heard from the villagers nearby, she’s ‘the crazy girl’ and it’s not hard to see you’re the first person outside of me that doesn’t believe that to be the case. Even Henry thinks she’s a bit eccentric, though based on their first meeting I can’t blame him.

But,” he continued, the word more firm than his last, “just as your mother worries about your safety, I worry about hers. Truth be told, I am concerned about yours, as well.”

“I’m fine,” Robin replied, and though he could hear that same force, an uneasy quake cracked her previous toughness. “I’m—”

“Love, please do not remind me yet again of your age. I’m 240, give or take, so truly I don’t see the point in bringing it up. I understand in your realm, or in parts of it, it signifies a milestone, but if there’s a constant need to remind others of your maturity simply through throwing out a number, then you have not convinced them enough on your own actions to treat you like an adult.”

He could almost feel her glow crimson with embarrassment and rage, but he kept his voice steady and urged them to continue on, grateful the path was abandoned save for them. “You have done a lot, for us and for Alice. However, in a place like this which is still largely foreign to you and in times like these where violence can break out at any moment, asserting your independence regardless of the feelings of others is not the best way to go about convincing anyone you’re ready for that independence. Even I at my age am careful to let our people know where I’m going and give an idea of how long I will be away. It’s courtesy. One you may still need to learn.”

“That’s bull—”

“If you swear at me, Robin, this conversation is over,” Killian warned, voice light but stern. “Instead, I’d think it best to channel that anger into something more productive.” He pulled out a dagger and handed it to her, then gestured with his head toward a large oak tree. “How about you practice your throwing skills? I’ll stay nearby but, unless needed, keep quiet so you can think.”

Robin grabbed the dagger, looking at its polished handle before arching an eyebrow at him. “Why do I feel like this is some weird sort of timeout?”

“Because you’re not wholly incorrect, but I’d also like to know you are skilled in multiple weapons and can use them in multiple ways if you happen to run into trouble while on your own or with Alice and for any reason you cannot use your bow.”

Killian saw the rising signs of defiance in her features and wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when they soon fell away and she wandered closer to the tree, readying her stance. Her need for independence was still rivaled by her need to prove herself, and he hoped the repetitive action and tranquility of the area would do her some good.

He found stump closeby and settled on it, keeping from critiquing her movements. Practice or not, the point of the exercise this time, he knew, was more mental than physical. The first several throws missed the mark, and she growled in impatient frustration so like he’d witnessed from others her age. Yet, with a sense of pride, he saw she repeatedly went back to get the dagger, soon taking deep breaths and trying again.

The next few times she failed to pierce the bark with the blade, but at least got close. A few more deep breaths and a few more tries, and after long last she managed to lodge the blade into the flesh of the tree. “Yes!” she whooped, victorious arms pumping into the sky, and Killian couldn’t help chuckling.

“Very good, lass.” He rose and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks.” Her face flushed again, though this time with pride. “And, I guess I do feel better.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He surveyed where they were, how close they were to the new cottage he and the others had managed to help find Alice, and a quick flash of longing washed over him. Robin glanced back, catching hints of the cottage through the trees, and gave him a melancholy smile.

“If it’s alright with you, I can check in on her? Maybe she has another letter written? I know it’s between scheduled trips, but, since we’re so close…”

The corners of Killian’s lips tugged up at her request for permission. “Aye, love. I don’t see any harm in it.”

“Thanks. And, uh...can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Tell my mom I’ll be back by midnight?”

#captain archer #killian jones #robin ii #robin mills #maybe a little knightrook #and a little wicked archer #is that what they're called?#but totally more captain archer #findingtallahassee

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hufflepuffhermione · 6 years

Text

Beside Him

So I’m new to Carolight fic (but definitely not to fanfiction) but I managed to get this done in time for Carolight appreciation week! It’s a missing scene from 3x05, after Dwight and Caroline’s reunion. Enjoy!

The room is silent, save for the sound of Dwight’s breathing, and Caroline wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course she wants to eagerly share with him all the news that he had missed in the past year, of course she wants to banter with him in the way that only they can, of course she wants to hear his unfailingly compassionate words in response to some acrimonious remark she will no doubt unthinkingly make. And she will, in time. There is no doubt in her mind that soon enough, the conversation that she had so fallen in love with would return to her.

But not today, it seems. Dwight is quiet- she has never known him to be particularly talkative if not provoked, but this is a new level of quiet- and his eyes, normally so bright and sparkling, are dull and seem to stare at nothing particular. His answers to her questions are brief and stilted, and aside from a few expected pleasantries, he asks her nothing. Her heart aches to see him, to sense his distress that he is trying to keep under wraps, but she has very little understanding of what he has been through aside from what Demelza and Ross have briefly filled her in on.

“I’d best prepare you,” Demelza begins, as she and Caroline mount their horses for the ride back to Nampara, “Dwight’s not well, and he looks it. He looks as if the slightest breeze could knock him off his feet. Seems that in the prison, the men were lucky to eat once a day.”

Caroline’s heart constricts painfully, but she puts on a brave face. “So he is malnourished. Very well, we shall have to feed him until he can eat no more. Perhaps oranges, he once enumerated their nutritional qualities to me.”

Demelza sighs, unsure whether Caroline’s cheer is simply an act or if she truly doesn’t understand the state Dwight is in. “I’m afraid he does have scurvy due to the malnourishment, or at least that’s what he diagnosed himself with.”

“All the more reason for oranges,” Caroline says softly, clicking her tongue so that her horse takes off. As the woods go by, she thinks of herself and Dwight, years younger, riding along the cliffs and down to the beach, happy and young and free from the distress that has clouded every minute of their marriage. He is home, she reminds herself. He is home and with her to stay and she will not allow him to leave. He may not be well, not now anyway, but she will stay by his side until he is hearty and strong again, and for all the years after that.

The first part of their accelerated ride back to Nampara is silent, Caroline absorbed in her thoughts. Demelza appears the same, but there is something weighing on her.

“Demelza, is everything alright?” Caroline asks.

Demelza presses her lips together and shakes her head. “I’m afraid you might be distressed when you see him. He’s different- and I only know what I’ve gleaned from Ross but it sounds like the prison was a sort of hell on earth, and a body experiencing that... mightn’t be the same after.”

“I understand,” Caroline replies, although her own ignorance of what Dwight has experienced is beginning to weigh on her. “I’m not so naive as to believe this will be easy. But whatever state he comes back in is infinitely easier to accept than if he had come back dead.”

Demelza smiles weakly as their horses bound through the gate at Nampara. “Tis fortunate for Dwight he married a woman of such strength.”

Caroline shakes her head as she dismounts. “Tis fortunate for me that I married a brave and honorable man such as Dwight.”

She has half a mind to interrogate Ross on the rescue mission before she sees Dwight, so that she might understand the circumstances surrounding his homecoming, but any thought of delay escapes her mind once she steps across the threshold and realizes that, after so long, she is in the same house as him again. She cannot wait a moment longer to see him.

“Caroline!” Ross says, as she comes through the door. “You may want to wait down, I’ll go get him prepared...”

“Prepared to see me? He needs no preparation, not to see his wife.”

Ross sighs. “I’m concerned you might... be distressed. And he...”

Caroline gazes at him with determination. She knows he means well, and is likely doing as Dwight instructed, but she has never paid much attention to anyone who told her she was not allowed to do something. “Demelza appraised me of his condition, and I have no qualms. I have not yet forgotten my wedding vows. ‘In sickness and in health, till death do us part’? Well, death has not managed to part us, so my place is beside him.”

She pushes past him to the stairwell, and he and Demelza follow close behind.

Caroline closes her eyes, reliving the emotions that had coursed through her upon seeing Dwight. She had been shocked at his appearance, of course; all of Demelza’s warnings had not prepared her to see him so gaunt, so ragged, so unlike the beautiful man she fell in love with. And yet, she was relieved because despite everything, it was Dwight, and nothing could change that. But her heart beat heavy in her chest as she greeted him, her head full of so many thoughts and fears and exclamations that it overwhelmed her, and she could think of nothing but to comment on the scurvy that he now suffered from. But their few words were meaningless, compared to their kiss which had held the desperation of a year of separation and the joy of reunion despite everything. It was not a perfect kiss, by any means. His overgrown beard tickled her to a point where she almost sneezed, and their breathlessness was not so much passion as a frenzied need for each other, to confirm their dreamlike reality. But it was enough, or at least it was then.

It has been mere hours since she came in. And she is once again desperate to kiss him. She notices that she keeps holding her breath until he breathes again, worried that any moment he might slip away, that any moment she might wake up from this dream. The silence is comforting because she can hear his breathing, but even though she is not even a foot away, a part of her still misses him. A part that will only be satisfied by another kiss.

But before she kisses him, something must be taken care of.

“Do you mind if I leave you for a minute? Don’t fear, I’ll come back,” she says, squeezing his hand.

“My haggard appearance hasn’t frightened you away?” he mutters in reply, half sarcastically.

Caroline laughs. “No, I’m afraid you’ll have to work much harder if you want to be rid of me. But as a matter of fact, that’s what I want to work on,” she says, flashing him a grin.

Dwight barely has time to lift his head and mutter a “What?” before Caroline has escaped the room.

She hurries down the stairs, almost running into Demelza on the way down. “Oh, Demelza! Does Ross happen to have a shaving kit?”

“Far as I know,” Demelza responds, raising an eyebrow. “It’d be on the table in our bedroom.”

Caroline nods, heading back up the stairs before turning around and requesting, “Could you warm up some water?”

Demelza has a pretty good idea of what Caroline wants to do, and she smiles to herself, wondering how she plans to go about it. “I’ll get on that,” she says, but Caroline is already up the stairs and headed toward the bedroom.

She finds the shaving kit quickly, observing it to make sure all the pieces are there. The one she has seen before was, of course, much nicer, but this will do.

Kit in hand, she thunders down the stairs, perhaps overly eager to carry out her task. Or perhaps, already aching to be back with her husband. She has been away from him for over a year- she cannot be away from him for another minute.

When Caroline reaches the kitchen, Demelza is pouring steaming water out of a kettle into a basin. “Here you are, then. Let Dwight know that I’m making some supper, and I expect he eats it all.”

“Thank you,” Caroline responds, and really, she is thankful for more than the warm water. She is beyond grateful for Ross and Demelza and their unwavering support and willingness to take action to bring her husband home. Without them... Dwight would still be in Quimper, or worse.

She tries not to think about the alternatives; Dwight is home and safe, and will soon enough be well if she has anything to say about it. She cannot allow herself to linger on the fears that plagued her for the last year; her fears have not come to fruition, and she has nothing but joy. Even if his homecoming is not easy, she cannot complain. Anything is better than his absence.

She enters his room again, just as eagerly as the last, carrying the basin and the shaving kit. She sets them down on the bed beside him, and a little bit of water sloshes out. Dwight looks to the side with a tiredly curious glance. “What is this?”

“I figured it was time to take this hideous growth off your face,” Caroline says, running her fingers through his tangled beard. “I mean, it could be quite dashing if it were not so overgrown, but I fear I prefer my clean-shaven doctor.”

Dwight presses his lips together and shakes his head. “It may not be such a pleasing sight as you imagine- scurvy has left its marks.”

“I did not marry you for your looks, you know,” Caroline replies, kissing the top of his head and sitting on the bed next to him, again sloshing the water slightly. She puts the basin on his lap and smiles at him, “Although no matter what, you’re handsome to me.”

“Even with this ‘hideous growth’, as you call it?” he asks, raising his eyes to meet hers.

Caroline opens up the shaving kit and pulls out the soap. “Now, I only take issue with the fact that it’s so much harder to kiss you with a beard. I’d like to be in as close a proximity to your lips as possible.”

“Oh Caroline,” he whispers, and it is both humored and mournful. He reaches to take the soap from her, and she bats his hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Dwight creases his eyebrows. “Um... shaving myself?”

“No you’re not. Sit back and relax, I’ll do this for you,” Caroline says, as she pulls out Ross’s blade.

“Caroline, I’m perfectly capable of...”

“Shh. You’ve been caring for others for far too long. Let yourself be cared for,” she insists.

“Have you ever shaved a man before?” he asks, watching as she sharpens the blade.

“As a matter of fact, I have. When Uncle Ray... was in his last days, and couldn’t do it himself, I did it,” she replies, suddenly cool and detached. “It was some way I could be of use.”

Perhaps this is what this is all about. Caroline wants to be, needs to be of use in Dwight’s recovery. She could hardly go and rescue him, and she was not a natural nurse. But anything she could do, she needed to.

Dwight is silent as Caroline continues the rest of the preparations. There is little he can say, and lately, there has been little he wants to say.

Finally, Caroline is ready, and she wets her hands and moves them to Dwight’s cheeks. She does this again and again, splashing him with water a little bit each time. Dwight patiently waits until his whole face is dripping wet. “Perhaps the bed was not the best place to do this,” he murmurs.

“Perhaps, but you’re not getting up and I wasn’t about to wait to take care of this, so here we are,” Caroline replies, taking the soap and lathering it on him.

He closes his eyes and tries not to gasp from the tenderness of her ministrations. This is so far removed from the last year, so strange and so dreamlike. He doesn’t open his eyes; he fears that if he does, he will wake up and be back in Quimper.

Once she is satisfied that his face is well lathered, Caroline begins with the blade, tilting his chin up with one hand, making gentle but halting motions to remove the hairs that had grown quite long. Part of her wants to take anger out on the beard, for it symbolizes the hell that her husband went through, and she hates the French and anyone else who forced Dwight to live through that. No one deserved that less than him. But she must be gentle, both because his face is marked by sores that she is careful not to irritate, and because she knows Dwight has not felt gentleness in so long. Caroline does not have a particularly gentle nature, but she carefully trains her hands to be so.

There is something immensely satisfying about it; the closeness, the intimacy that they have been deprived of for so long, the sweet smell of the soap washing away the months of dirt and grime and blood that had been caught up in his facial hair, the feeling of his pulse, beating under her fingers, to assure her that he is truly alive, that he is truly there with her.

Her fingers softly run over a now-bared cheek, as she moves on to the other side of his face. Yes, his skin is marked, and she wonders if he might be scarred from it, but it only makes him all the more beautiful to her. She cannot stop touching him; if she does, he might slip away from her. She keeps her hand firmly under his chin, turning his head toward her.

As her fingers still run over his cheek, she accidentally touches one of the sores. He hisses loudly, and she pulls away instinctually. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, backing away from him.

Dwight sighs and lowers his head. “No, no, please, don’t feel bad. It’s simply a bit sensitive, that’s all. And now doubt I look, as you said, quite hideous.”

“Oh, you mustn’t worry about that,” Caroline insists. “To me, even they are rather beautiful. They tell a story of a man who come back to me, alive. They are evidence of how strong, how resilient you are.”

He frowns. “You overestimate me.”

“You underestimate yourself. From what I’ve heard from Ross and Demelza, it’s a miracle you’re here after that place, and yet the whole time, you tended the ill and injured without a second thought for your own health, your own well-being. That, to me, is a mark of a strong man,” she says. As he begins to protest, she holds up a hand. “You may not feel it now, but you mustn’t doubt it.” She leans over to kiss one of the sores on his smooth cheek. “You are here. That’s all that matters to me.”

He closes his eyes again, feeling too tired to protest.

Caroline moves around to the other side of the bed, beginning to shave his other cheek. While her first strokes had been tentative and halting, she has found a rhythm, and every stroke is clean and soft. Her fingers follow, now carefully avoiding any spot that may be sensitive, but drinking in the feeling of his warm skin. She manages not to cut him; she won’t claim that feat in front of Dwight, who surely could have managed the same and much more cleanly, but she is proud of her achievement.

Finally, she moves onto the hair over his lip and chin, and as his beautiful lips are revealed to her once again, she cannot help but rub her thumb over them, chapped as they are. She sits back and takes in his whole face, her fingers never leaving his chin. He is even gaunter than he had looked before, and of course he is marked, but she prefers this sight much better. Despite everything, he is still her husband, her Dwight, and no French hell could steal him forever.

She puts the basin and the shaving kit on a bedside table, and moves closer to him. “Dwight,” she whispers in his ear.

He whimpers in response, seeming almost afraid at the sound of his own name.

“It’s done. Open your eyes,” she continues softly. Her hand goes to his cheek once more; she never wants to stop touching him. If she is with him, he cannot slip away from her.

“I’m afraid,” he whispers back, his beautiful eyes still stubbornly shut.

“Why?” Caroline asks. She is so far from understanding, and once again her pulse beats a little faster, because everything is not all well.

He is silent for a minute, and then almost under his breath, begins. “This whole experience, it’s rather like a dream. When Ross came into the prison, I was certain I was dreaming and everything after; it all feels like an elaborate story that my mind has made up to distract me from the reality and give me hope. I’m afraid that when I open my eyes, I’ll wake up and I’ll be back there. I’d like this to keep going as long as possible.”

Caroline isn’t sure what to make of this; it is unlike anything she has ever experienced. “I promise you, you’re not in a dream. You really are home, back in Cornwall. You really are with me. Allow me to prove it to you,” she says.

She takes both of his cheeks in her hands and presses her lips to his firmly, with a softer, more elongated kiss than before. “Open your eyes,” she murmurs.

He does, those brilliant blue eyes that she missed so much. He looks up and down her face, and tears begin to well up in his eyes and he kisses her back.

Caroline finds herself tearing up, rather unusually, and she pulls away from him. She is convinced that he is here now, both in body and in spirit, and nothing will take him away from her.

“I expect you’ve never had a dream quite so pleasant,” she says, sitting back on the bed next to him.

“No, I don’t believe I have,” he answers, between tearful sniffs.

She grabs his hand again and turns her head to look at him, as he looks back at her. He looks more like himself, more like the man she fell in love with. This is her husband, she realizes with joy, and nothing can take him away from her now. Conditions are far from perfect, but they are together. It is nothing short of a miracle, and Caroline intends to make the most of it.

This, of course, includes several more kisses, just as she prescribed.

#carolight #dwight enys #caroline penvenen #poldark #carolight appreciation week #alli's writings #this scene just would not get out of my head and i had to write #which i mean was nice to have so much inspiration #i'm a little nervous because i've never written them before #but i'm actually pretty proud of what i came up with #also it turned out way longer than i expected

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greennightspider · 6 years

Text

The Cabin in the Snow (Chapter 3)

M’Baku x OC (Akari)

Summary: M’Baku and Akari get stuck in a snowstorm in a cabin during an assignment. What’s a couple of Jabari warriors to do? This fic is based on M’Baku a short time before he became the leader of the Jabari Tribe.

Author’s Note: This is a very dialogue-heavy chapter, but what else are you gonna do shut in a cabin? I know it won’t be the most exciting chapter in teh world as the conversation gets heavy, BUT I did feel like more background and depth and bonding was needed. Hope you guys likey!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

@readsalot73 @skysynclair19

Akari woke to the sound of loud incessant crunching echoing from the other side of the room. In a daze she turned over onto her back stretching her arms outward. She had such a good sleep surrounded by the warmest blankets and furs which slid through her fingers as she lay her arms down. Akari was in such a refreshed state that it took her a while to register the crunching noises that were still going.

Aaaand that she wasn’t at home and didn’t know where the hell she was.

As she sat up, Akari was greeted by a half-naked M'Baku lazily eating banana chips staring back at her. "M'Baku where are we-

But as soon as she had started to talk, Akari felt a cool breeze on her chest, only to look down and realise why.

"EEEEK!"

Akari rushed to pull the furs up to her neck before registering her surroundings.

Oh no.

One naked Akari.

Oh nononononono.

One almost naked M'Baku

Runi is going to give me hell for this.

Both their clothes on benches far away from the bed.

I can’t believe I lost it to M’Baku.

And one bed.

Oh Hanuman I hope we used protection.

M'Baku continued to work on his snack, amused at Akari's thinking face, knowing full well what assumptions were dawning on her. "M'Baku, please tell me we didn-

"We did"

Akari's jaw dropped to the ground.

"NOT!" M'Baku grinned.

Akari's nostrils flaired as she tried to search for anything near her to throw at his face, but it was in vain. "Look under the covers." Akari took a quick peek underneath and saw that she still had her drawers on, breathing a sigh of relief. She was then bombarded with a wad of fabric that flew towards her face blinding her eyes, which M'Baku chucked at her.

Diving under the covers in the same fashion as the night before, she quickly ambled on her bra. While M'Baku turned around she crawled out of the bed to finish getting at least her singlet and pants on. Her memories had started to drift back to her: the hike, the cabin, the snowstorm, although after M'Baku started the fire her memory was still a bit fuzzy... until Akari darted her eyes to M'Baku and realised what he was doing.

"M'Baku are... are you eating our supplies? The only ones we have here in this snowstorm???""

M'Baku stopped crunching.

"...Nooo."

"M'BAKU!"

"Thats what you said last night."

"OH MY- wait I thought you said we didn't do anything?!"

M'Baku smirked. "Well we didnt have sex, but we did something," grinning mischeviously as he munched on another chip. "Or, more like you did something."

Sitting down on the bench that once dried her clothes she tentatively asked. "What did I do?"

"You thanked me."

"Well that doesnt sound-"

"With your lipsssss."

Akari almost fell off the bench. Studying M'Baku, she knew he had no reason to lie other than to joke, but she also knew that in a severe hypothermic state anyone could do anything.

"You're joking."

"I cannot say I blame you, I mean I am irresistible." M'Baku waggled his eyebrows and laughed. Meanwhile Akari had turned a fiery red.

"You also insinuated that I was turning you on."

Akari gasped. "NO."

"YES." M'Baku started laughing again, her face even redder than before. "You went from happy to horny to nervous to lovey dovey all in one night!"

"Oh my LIFE."

Seeing her tense up into a bundle of embarrasment, M'Baku decided shed had enough teasing and it was time to change the subject. "How are yo-"

"I’m sorry."

"Hmm? For what?" M'Baku questioned, confused since he hardly ever heard Akari apologize to anyone.

"For kissing you."

"Hey, I never said I didn’t enjoy it." M'Baku chuckled. "I mean you are beautiful Akari." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and the flush in her cheeks was back. Trying to cover it with humor M’Baku added, "Underneath all that seriousness and temper and stubbornness-" (M'Baku was about to say "and the clothes," but decided against it considering a firepoker was well within Akari's reach.)

"Hey! I'll have you know I know how to have fun, i just do it at the appropriate times unlike someooooone," Akari drawled.

"We're young aren’t we? Wouldn’t now be the best time more than ever?" M'Baku countered.

"Pfahahahaha easy for you to say. Some of us have responsibilities you know.... And I’m kinda suprised that the future leader of the Jabari tribe isn’t more..." Akari drew quotation marks in the air with her fingers, "leader-ey."

M'Baku copied her actions in a mocking tone. "Leader ey, really?"

Trying not to laugh Akari snorted into her hand. "You know what I mean."

“I’m sure you know I wasn’t the one meant to be the future leader, my brother was. Uuka. But the time came to choose who was to be king, us brothers were meant to defeat each other in ritual combat. To make sure no one in the future could cause strife among the royal siblings, this fight was to prove that the strongest warrior would rule our tribe.”

“I expected Uuka to win. We all did. He was the oldest, tallest, and most level headed when it came to battle. None of us thought we would have a chance, but that didn’t mean we weren’t going to fight him with all we had.”

“When it came my turn, I went at full force. But somewhere along the way, I went blind. Next thing I knew Uuka was on the ground beneath me. And I was claimed as the crown son.”

“I remember that time, both of you didn’t come to class for the next week or so.” Akari reminisced, remembering that when the two brothers did finally turn up to school, they both look like they had been hit by a rhino. “So, you don’t want the throne?” Akari chose her words carefully.

M’Baku sighed. “Each of us were prepared for the possibility from a young age, and although I was prepared I did not crave it. I never wanted it, but my brother did not believe me for a long time.” M’Baku would never admit it, but that hurt more than the bruises and broken bones that he had received from the fight. The fact that his own brother, and some of his younger brothers believed he was capable of such spiteful ambition. They believed him now, but he could never forget the look in Uuka’s eyes after the fight was over.

“Well, I believe you.”

M’Baku stared at her, meeting her unmoving eyes.

“Yeah, I mean I definitely believe you. There’s no way you would’ve gone for chieftan other than to have the front seat at banquets ” Akari fell back in laughter. “And while I know you love pranks and jokes, I have never seen you act in a way that was

“No, the way you were chosen was in fair combat, yes? A fight that happened in the eyes of Hanuman. So, maybe it was his will that you were chosen for a reason. Who won that fight may not have been up to you, regardless of your intentions.”

M'Baku stared at this girl. No one had ever told him that they believed him, or that maybe it was fate, not malice or greed that won the fight that day. “No one has ever told me that.”

“Well maybe you should start surrounding yourself with people who will.” Akari countered. Not in a condescending way, but in a considerate way that made M'Baku ponder her words thoughtfully.

“What about you Akari? What secrets do you have? C’mon, and eye for an eye.” M’Baku grinned mischievously.

Akari gave in, seeing as he opened up to you, you didn’t mind doing the same. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Well, first off, you’re very uptight.” She chuckled. "We’re you always so?”

“You don’t remember do you?” Akari’s smile dimmed slightly while M'Baku shook his head quizzically.

“I didn’t think you would, we were very young and its not like our families are close.” Akari bent down to pick up several small pebbles from the stony floor and turned to the fire, throwing them one by one. “Well when I was 8 I…. lost my mother.”

M’Baku was silenced.

“It was a harsh winter, and she had come down with an illness the healers could not cure. I was young, my older brother was 12 I think? And little Kaia was only four. Four years old. My father was beside himself. So, both my brother and I had to grow up very fast. Me more than Zahkele since I was the one who took over looking after Kaia. Runi and her family were always there. Her parents were there for my father and Runi was my rock. They were the only ones I remember at that time. So that’s why Runi and I are so close. I get on well with others, but I trust Runi. And she knows if she ever needed me I’d be there.”

Continuing her throws Akari concluded. “So, I guess that is why I’m serious a lot of the time. I am a riot when I’m with Runi, but that’s why I keep all other friendships surface level yknw? I’ve never been looked after, I’ve only been looking after others. It’s what I know.”

“Akari… I-”

"Don’t be. The thing I hate the worst is pity.” She scoffed.

“No, I was going to say, I admire you.” Akari stopped mid-throw, watching M’Baku’s serious face as he clasped his hands together. “I have never been through anything close to that, and hearing you take care of your family like that, I don’t know if I could have ever done what you did.”

"Well.... thank you M’Baku." Akari threw the reamining pebbles into the fire before pulling one leg up onto the bench. "The pressure isn’t as bad as it was, my family is doing okay now. But I still have to make sure I do what I can to care for them. I guess the responsibility just sunk into my bones haha.”

M’Baku returned your smile, but your moment was interuppted as the howling winds brought his attention to the surrounding landscapes that could be seen through the window. ��On the bright side, we should be able to head back down tomorrow.”

“Wait, why not today?”

“Because its almost evening. I… let you sleep considering I thought you needed it.”

Akari scrunched her nose. “Was it that bad?”

“Yes.” M'Baku pursed his lips. Last night was more than eventful, but he wouldn’t forget the way Akari looked in that storm, and how he shivered in his arms. It was the first time he had ever been close to someone who was in that kind of state, and he still cursed himself.

“Akari, I am sorry for yesterday. Truly.”

Akari raised her brows. She wasn’t used to seeing this side of M'Baku, but she could tell he felt extremely bad. Wanting to ease M'Baku of his guilt-pained expression Akari spoke “It’s alright M'Baku, mistakes happen. And we probably would have made it down yesterday if it wasn’t for this freak snowstorm.”

M'Baku’s head snapped back up, his expression more hopeful than before.

“I saved you some chips” M'Baku offered the bag that was only a quarter empty and you couldn’t help but laugh hysterically at the ¾ empty gesture looking at his cheesy smile. She couldn’t help but warm up to this literal goofball of a gorilla, and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way his eyes watched her with concern as she told her story, like he actually cared. Maybe it was the way he had taken care of her while she was out of it, the fact not lost on her that he had possibly saved her life.

Maybe that was why when he dragged her closer to him in his sleep and cuddled her waist with his huge forearm, nuzzling into her cheek as he buried his face into her hair, she didn’t think to move away.

She just curled her arm over his and smiled as she fell asleep.

#m'baku fanfiction #m'baku fanfic #black panther fanfiction #m'baku #mbaku fanfiction #mbaku fanfic #m'baku x oc #the cabin in the snow #greennightspider #m'baku series

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charaie · 7 years

Text

#SanversWeek day 7 bonus fic: soulmates AU.

Reposting this because for some reason it didn’t show up in the tags (again).

Since a lot of people on both tumblr and ao3 requested a part two from Maggie’s perspective, here it is. Does this still count as a fic for #SanversWeek @queercapwriting? Yes? Yes.

You can read this seperately, but it makes more sense to read both parts in order. Part one can be found here: tumblr - ao3.

Thanks to @bruisedcaffeinatedbitch for the quick beta and for being awesome.

Warning: mentions of homophobia (not a lot though and only at the beginning, it turns fluffy real quick).

Read on ao3.

For most of her life, Maggie Sawyer doesn’t believe in soulmates. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that by the time she’s celebrating her eighteenth birthday, living with an aunt after being kicked out by her father for being gay, having lost her entire childhood and all of her friends, not once in her life have words appeared on her skin. Everyone, including her parents, tells her it’s because she’s a lesbian and therefor sinful, a disgrace, so she doesn’t get a soulmate.

“Your love isn’t real anyway, so why would you get one?” a random guy from her history class asks her once during a party at some other guy’s house. It’s a few minutes past ten and she’s checking herself for marks in the full-length mirror in the hallway. She turns around to find him smirking at her, his eyes sweeping up and down her body as if he’s deciding whether or not she’s worthy of being looked at, whether or not she’s worthy of… other things, and it takes all of her self-control not to tackle him to the ground right then and there. If she did that she’d be the one in trouble, not him, so why bother.

She tries to tell herself that they’re all wrong, that she is not. But since no words come and since there is no one to tell her otherwise, she believes them.

That is until she gets a scholarship and leaves Bluesprings, Nebraska for what it is, packing the only few things she still has and moving to a college in Indianapolis. There she meets another gay person for the first time in her life and to Maggie’s utter surprise, he has a soulmate. And it’s a guy.

From that moment on she starts to have hope again. Maybe gay people do get soulmates, maybe she has one, too. No words come, though. Every single night, just after ten, she checks. But every single night there’s nothing there.

She still dates in college. Nothing serious, just flings. Every time a girl asks for a second date, or a first one after they’ve slept together, she explains that she’s waiting for her soulmate to come along (because she has to have one, right?), and every time they ask her who it is or what she’s like, she makes something up, because she simply has no idea.

For twenty-two years nothing happens. For twenty-two years she’s skeptical towards the whole idea of soulmates, towards love, not sure if it’s for her, if she even wants it anymore. But then, one night, just two days before her 23rd birthday, the words are there.

It’s the middle of the night and she heads to the bathroom of her one-person dorm room to brush her teeth, all sleepy and weary and exhausted. Kathy – or was it Kelly? Sam? She doesn’t remember – remains asleep in her bed as she opens the door, stepping inside and grabbing her toothbrush. When she looks at herself in the mirror she doesn’t see it at first. But when her eyes shift to a spot just above her right collarbone, she freezes.

For about 3.8 seconds she stares at herself, before snapping out of it and practically climbing on top of the sink to get a closer look.

They’re small, and kind of squiggly, but they’re there, clear and prominent.

“Oh, my God,” she screams, and then she starts to cry, running her fingers over them, time and time again, because yes, she has a soulmate, and no, she’s not alone.

They were wrong, they were all wrong.

A few moments later Kathy – or Kelly, or Sam, what is her name, goddamnit – comes running into the bathroom carrying a baseball bat, still half-asleep and confused as hell, asking what is going on, did someone break in? but all Maggie can do is cry and run her fingers over her shoulder and even though this means Maggie belongs to someone else, not her, she celebrates with her, at two in the morning, in a tiny bathroom of a dorm in Indianapolis.

The first words are That’s stupid and Maggie has never been happier because her girl has attitude. She doesn’t sleep that night, and the next day all she can think about is her, and who she is and what she’s like – she can finally answer those questions with well, she’s got attitude, God, she’s so happy – and she spends the entire day being nervous and fidgety, eager to find out what words will appear on her skin that night.

She counts down the hours until the clock strikes ten and when it does she sees them again; words, so many words.

In vivo whole blood is assumed to be an incompressible Newtonian fluid, however, this assumption fails when considering forward flow within arterioles.

She smiles – God, she really cannot stop smiling – and shakes her head.

“Nerd.”

It continues. Every night she waits, and every night there’s words, and every night she smiles and goes to bed all giddy and happy and already so in love. Even when it’s simple stuff like Can you pass me the milk? or Twenty-five minutes is not that long! or God, I can’t believe you sometimes.

She learns things about her, a lot of things, during her last years of college, during the police academy, during her time in the field as a rookie and later as a detective. She has a sister, for example, named Kara (Kara, you’re my sister, and I love you, no matter what), her relationship with her mother is complicated (She has always come down hard on me for not protecting you), she works for a secret government organization called the DEO that Maggie knew was real (We’re the DEO, we don’t exist), and she is fiercely protective of the people she cares about (I got you and I will bring you back safe, sir and Either I come back with my sister, or I don’t come back at all).

And eventually, she learns her name.

I’m Alex, by the way.

It’s as if the words are spoken directly to her, as if she’s introducing herself, and even though Maggie knows she isn’t, it sends chills down her spine nonetheless the first time she reads them. She runs the name over in her head a million times before saying it out loud to herself, and once she does it sounds almost surreal.

She tries to find girls named Alex, that have a sister named Kara, but however much she searches and asks around, she’s unable to find anything (which makes sense since she’s a secret agent and all – how cool is that, by the way?).

But that changes when she’s twenty-six and decides to move from Gotham to National City to become a part of the NCPD’s Science Division. During her third week on the job the president is attacked, and just when she’s started to analyze the crime scene a tall and drop-dead gorgeous federal agent walks up to her, all cocky and with attitude, introducing herself as Alex Danvers, and Maggie has to physically fight herself from actually squealing and jumping into this woman’s arms, because is this her? This has to be her. Oh, my God, what if it’s her?

The rest of the day goes by way too slowly for Maggie’s liking, but when the clock finally passes ten, all of her suspicions and hopes and dreams are confirmed because her shoulder reads I think I met her today.

#sanversweek #day7 #supergirl #sanvers #soulmates au #my writing

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 7 years

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The Marvel of Trelsi (Part XIII)

Man, I’m beat at the end of THIS week. So much stuff to do, and so little of it based on writing. A rich husband would be much appreciated.

Anyway, let’s return to Trelsi. In the last instalment, I did an analysis of three Kelsi Nielsen songs in order to demonstrate the kind of person that would interest Kelsi romantically in an ideal situation. I alluded to the fact that Kelsi’s expectations are idealistic, because the reality of her situation doesn’t bear much resemblance to those poetic lyrics and catchy melodies. Like I’ve said, I’m adding questions as they occur to me; I’m not just interested in examining Trelsi, but understanding Troy Bolton and Kelsi Nielsen as people, and that means discussing their interactions with others. My next question is as follows:

Question-- What can we learn about Kelsi Nielsen from her canonical relationships?

Disclaimer: No “Ryelsi” will be discussed.

This is fascinating to me. First of all, let’s get to the bottom of Kelsi’s canonical relationship with Jason Cross and the implications thereof.

I’ve just been rewatching some of HSM I in Google Play, just to see whether there is any avenue for Jason Cross to have known about Kelsi prior to meeting her in the gym. I’ve scrolled as slowly as I can, but was unable to find such a place. It might have made sense for Jason to notice her during the performance of “Breaking Free”, but that would be impossible, given that Kelsi’s back was to the audience, and she only seemed interested in either the music or in Troy blossoming onstage. I’ve rewatched the scene where Jason formally and silently introduces himself, and it looks, for all intents and purposes, to be a spur on the moment decision to help her sink a shot. I like this scene. Even before shipping Trelsi, I considered it sweet, even though heavily in line with every other character being paired off for pairing’s sake. Even at this stage, Kelsi is still so often overlooked in favour of other girls (the gym is full of cheerleaders) that the decision to get to know her better often comes on a whim. I still can’t decide whether Troy intended to make friends with Kelsi earlier in HSM I, but if he only did so after she tripped over, then that would be a mirror to how Jason is later introduced to Kelsi. And once again, Kelsi’s surprise is a sign of how she is not yet used to being noticed by others, let alone boys (and a jock like Jason!). However, since being introduced to Troy, she has grown in confidence and thus she most notably does not react with the dumbfounded astonishment of before. In fact, her smile is more confident as Jason helps her shoot a hoop, which she appears to enjoy.

Contrary to what the movie wishes for us to believe, I do not think that Jason and Kelsi instantly hit it off after this encounter. I am making assumptions here, but given what we know of Kelsi’s serious attitude towards love and relationships, I cannot see her deciding to put her trust in Jason before they had spent more time together. Fortunately, they had the rest of the school year to do so, and by the summer (HSM II), they are established as an item. By the beginning of HSM III, however, we are to infer that they have broken up and this raises a number of important questions and issues. First of all, what made Jason choose Kelsi out of all the other girls he could have easily had? Remember that Jason is a jock, and therefore from the Supreme Class, according to the Philosophy of Danforth. I assume that he saw something in her that other people didn’t, or maybe he was intrigued by her shyly and awkwardly clutching a basketball, and decided to help her out. I don’t pretend to know the answers here, because we’re just not given that information. What does seem apparent is that Kelsi was still shy around boys-- notice her somewhat hunched shoulders when the basketball team cheered around her. Of course, we didn’t see that kind of shyness around the boys of the Drama Club, so I’m assuming that this was caused by 1)- the social status of the basketballers, 2)- possibly their physical stature, 3)- the shyness possibly being provoked when close to people she was attracted to. Either way, it appears that Jason knows what to do in order to lower Kelsi’s walls. She doesn’t seem to mind as he tosses her hat side and allows her hair to flow free, as is the clichéd method in romantic comedies. From around HSM III, Kelsi wears fewer hats (and even then, only as an accessory, rather than to hide her face) and wears her hair longer, perhaps a testament to Jason’s influence on her. What’s interesting about this is that Jason is pretty awkward himself, so perhaps he saw a kindred spirit and decided to work up the courage to introduce himself.

Kelsi and Jason scenes are so tiny as to be almost invisible, but we can get some idea of what their relationship might have been like. I think the key thing to note is an easy affection between the two of them. I would not describe either of them as being in love, but just having the typical teenage feelings associated with one’s first relationship. I am almost certain that this is Kelsi’s first relationship; there is no way you can be that shy and have a boyfriend prior), and I think the same might be true for Jason, but not necessarily. Why is this significant? Because it’s nothing like what Kelsi either really expects or wants in a relationship. I have mentioned the danger of lofty expectations here and here, stating that this might lead to dissatisfaction on Kelsi’s part when she inevitably did not receive what she wanted. However, given this contrast, I do not think that Kelsi was intending to “settle” for Jason at all; it takes a lot for her to break down her walls, and I think that she would only invest in a relationship that she considered worthwhile. Like I’ve said in my song analysis, Kelsi does not half-step when it comes to relationships. Unlike Sharpay, she doesn’t view boys as sport, and unlike Gabriella, she does not take the business of being in a relationship for granted. Once inside the relationship, Kelsi would have committed completely.

What does Kelsi see in Jason? Well, he seems kind, often fumbles and bumbles around, but in a well-meaning way. He seems thoughtful and doesn’t need her to impress him with sports skill before he notices her. Without even asking, he helps her sink a shot through the hoops and smiles at her as though this was her victory.

So why, by the beginning of HSM III have they not only broken up, but Jason has jumped ship immediately to the popular head cheerleader Martha? Well, the seeds were sown during HSM II where, on at least two or three occasions, you can see Jason either hugging or putting his arm around Martha. In fact, after the kids have finished dancing outside of East High to mark the summer, Jason turns and hugs Martha first before Kelsi. Later on, he has his arm around Martha as he comes into the practice room to sing “You Are The Music In Me”. Because the film narrative pays little attention to Kelsi when she isn’t either composing music or with Troy and Gabriella, we don’t know anything about these little scenes beyond their mere existence, and thus we know very little about Kelsi’s reaction. Fortunately for you guys, we can rely on my musings in Google Docs to fill in the gaps. There are two ways that Kelsi could have reacted to this: either by confrontation or in silence. I base the confrontation theory on her ability to confront people when sufficiently agitated, like during HSM I, when she angrily told Troy why the callbacks had been rescheduled, and when she stood up to Sharpay before said callbacks. I base the silence theory on how Kelsi hides more of herself than she shows to other people (except perhaps Troy) and how, given that she is in her first relationship, she is most probably besieged by doubts on how she should behave.

Out of the two theories, I think the silence theory is more likely, because the signs that Jason is becoming more attached to Martha are subtle. In which case, Kelsi would most probably be lingering and doubting whether she was simply imagining things, or whether she had reason to be worried. Her low self-esteem, which she has had most probably since childhood, would flare UP again. In my notes for my mega Trelsi fic, I speculated that Kelsi might be the kind of girl to compare herself negatively to other girls, particularly when one is competing with her over the same guy. She is nothing like Gabriella, who, confident in her own looks, would stare down the rival and then punish the guy if he dared look too interested in someone else.

In fact, Kelsi can’t have confronted him, because later on in the movie, you can see Jason leaning at the breakfast table next to Kelsi (shortly before the infamous Silent Treatment scene), which wouldn’t have happened were things frosty between them. At the end of the movie, during the quieter version of “You Are The Music In Me”, she seems happy hugging him and running around the hills. This appears genuine to me (I was rewatching it before writing this paragraph). So this may suggest that Kelsi was more likely playing it silent, perhaps believing that either Jason would not take Martha seriously (if so, a massive miscalculation on her part), and/or that she could/should focus on the positives in her relationship. It’s not like Jason was completely cold and unfeeling towards her; they obviously shared happy moments together. Clearly, she had strong feelings for Jason, or else none of this would make sense. Another reason that I don’t see Kelsi being confrontational is that Martha is/was her friend. Not only this, but Kelsi continues being either friendly or at least civil with Martha AFTER she broke up with Jason, even sitting at the same lunch table in HSM III (shortly before Chad asked Taylor to prom). This adds an astonishing twist to the tale. Why does Kelsi continue to maintain some semblance of friendship with someone who 1)- appears quite flirtatious, 2)- shows no canonical interest in Kelsi’s relationship with Jason and 3)- shows no embarrassment about dating her friend’s ex right in front of her?

I have puzzled about this in my current Trelsi one-shot. Up til now, I don’t yet have a concrete answer. Does Kelsi, once again feeling that other girls are more attractive then her, feel that it’s all for the best, whilst trying to quash her own hurt? Does she politely pretend not to notice? (It does seem that way in some of the scenes; when Jason hugs Martha before her in early HSM II, she simply nudges him and waits for her turn!) Or is Kelsi merely displaying a show of civility, whilst hiding her bitterness? As we know, Kelsi is capable of deeply-rooted bitterness, and of holding grudges against other people. We are shown her grudge against Sharpay (understandable, but later heavily exaggerated), and her former grudge against Ryan, which she overcame. The movie narrative would never have us see any inkling that things weren’t always sugary and nice between the Wildcats, but perhaps Kelsi’s relationship with Martha became increasingly strained. After all, it’s not like Martha ever played it cool with Jason out of respect for her friend’s relationship. No, even by the beginning of the summer, they were on regular hugging terms, if there’s such a thing. The seamless way in which Jason runs straight into Martha’s arms (literally as well as figuratively) by the beginning of HSM III suggests a closeness that has to have been nurtured over time. And that time was when Kelsi and Jason were dating.

Judging from that scene in HSM III, where the Cool Girls are sharing a table (Taylor, Gabriella, Martha and Kelsi), we can see Martha giggling over something. Taylor and Gabriella are laughing, and Kelsi is smiling, but focused on her manuscripts. Her reactions appear somewhat reserved here. We know that Kelsi and Martha at least were close, because at the beginning of HSM II, she gives Martha a hug (perhaps they were introduced after the Winter Musical?), and later on, she is happily pretending to scratch turntables whilst Martha breaks it down on the kitchen floor. I can’t help noticing that Kelsi and Martha are on opposite sides of the same table in HSM III, although this is not necessarily significant. Personally, I think that her reservation here is thanks to a tireless devotion to her work, but if Kelsi really did feel resentment towards Martha, then her smiling, whilst focusing on her work might be a plausible demonstration of this. That’s a possible headcanon assumption and not necessarily one that I hold.

I suppose the next question is whether Jason cheated on Kelsi with Martha? I think not. The fact that Kelsi continues to maintain communication with Martha and even Jason to some extent seems sufficient proof that that wasn’t the case. Remember that at the beginning of HSM III, Kelsi signed up “almost the entire home room!” (Ms. Darbus) for the next musical, and we can see that Jason objects to this. In other words, she signed him up. Given the “almost” part, I assume some members were left out, therefore Kelsi had every opportunity to leave out Jason were she angry with him. Kelsi signed up the people she could most easily persuade to participate. Later on, she begs everyone that she presumptuously signed up to participate, and again, this includes Jason. These are not the actions of someone wishing to put as much distance between her and her ex-boyfriend. It’s worth noting that Jason doesn’t speak to her with any reluctance or embarrassment, which is both astounding, given him jumping straight to Martha, but also indicative perhaps of a (somewhat) amicable breakup. And by amicable, I mean they both decided to part ways, not that Kelsi was patting him on the back for being chummy with her friend whilst they were dating! So, what I think what happened was that Kelsi couldn’t deal with Jason’s emotional infidelity any longer, and either she broke up with him to maintain the upper hand, or he broke up with her when he could no longer conceal those feelings.

The implications and consequences of this breakup are not pretty. I am going to make a lot of assumptions here to fill in the gaps, but it strikes me that Kelsi would feel inadequate if her boyfriend (a jock, no less) left her for a confident and bubbly cheerleader. Bear in mind that not long after splitting up with Kelsi for Martha, Jason goes to the trouble of getting a T-shirt painted with a proposition for Martha. You can see this T-Shirt shortly before “Night to Remember”. Jason never did such a thing for Kelsi. Furthermore, he isn’t at all embarrassed to be wearing this in front of Kelsi whilst he performs HER song for the Spring Musical! Would this make Kelsi feel as though Jason was never as invested in their relationship as she was? In my last post, I alluded to a possible period of unhappiness for Kelsi prior to writing “I Just Wanna Be With You”: “You know how life can be/It changes overnight/Sunny then raining/But it’s alright.” Could the “rainy” period in Kelsi’s life be an allusion to Jason? Again, I do not present this as canonical fact, but it is definitely plausible. And I would go even further than that; could Kelsi’s appearance during “Night to Remember”, in which the guys say “Who’s that Girl?” be her response to Jason and Martha? During this scene, Kelsi appears as the “mystery girl” whom the guys (including, ironically, Jason) has to admire during the song. I don’t think this was Kelsi’s idea, but perhaps Ryan’s. He is the choreographer, and Kelsi was previously awkward and clumsy in HSM I, didn’t appear to be very fond of water in HSM II. But presenting herself as confident and carrying off the ballet steps without a hitch would be a great way for Kelsi to re-assert her confidence. We then see her invest her energy into writing one hell of a love song “I Just Wanna Be With You”, which I discussed in the last post.

All in all, the trajectory of Kelsi’s relationship with Jason is quite sad-- for Kelsi. She most probably had such high hopes, and definitely put more into her relationship than Jason did. Perhaps she felt somewhat betrayed. However, I don’t think that even this quashes her sense of optimism, her hope for a better future. If there’s one reason why Kelsi is such a compelling story hero, it’s her ability to try, try again. I think that there would be a down period, but perhaps by the time it came to preparing the third musical, she threw herself into her composition work in order to keep the pain at bay. Her music is not only her sole passion, but also her escape from real life. Hence why she can be present in the moment and yet lost in pages of notes.

This brings me onto my next question:

Question-- Did Kelsi have a crush on Troy? As a supporter of Trelsi, should this not be part of the default headcanon?

When I first watched the High School Musical series (a couple of years ago), it never crossed my mind that Kelsi could have had a crush on Troy. Only when I became more interested in the movies at the end of last year did I start seeing this proposed by a couple of fans. Again, I was sceptical, because at that point, I was more interested in the friendship, until that moment when I watched the Trelsi introductory scene and something clicked in my head. This could be a couple. But even THEN I wasn’t thinking about the potential of Kelsi’s astonishment being based on a crush, and I didn’t begin shipping Trelsi for real until HSM III. I think I gradually began accepting this interpretation simply by virtue of having read several meta’s where the author said so. Fast forward to now, when I ship Trelsi romantic and platonic fashion, and I’m actually ambivalent towards this theory. I will explain why, and how this relates to Kelsi and Jason as follows.

Now the Crush Theory appears to take hold from the moment where Kelsi is introduced to Troy, and we see her astonishment that the King of East High is actually speaking with her. Along with other evidence, mostly centred around Kelsi’s stronger affection and attachment to Troy than to Gabriella, the belief is that this proves she had more than platonic feelings towards him. I may have oversimplified this somewhat, but I think that you get the gist. Now don’t get me wrong; the Crush Theory does serve one particular angle of the Trelsi ship that I will discuss in future instalments-- that of unrequited love. I’ve read some great Trelsi fics with this angle, and it starts from Kelsi having this secret crush. And for the purposes of the movie canon, it would be far more interesting for the central narrative, as well as giving Kelsi some depth, because since she shows a great capacity for self-sacrifice, she is unlikely to ever act on such feelings. This would be far more interesting for the viewer than Troy’s trite and unhealthy relationship with Gabriella.

However, there are several problems with this theory.

Firstly, throughout the movies, Kelsi becomes more comfortable with Troy, something that surely could not happen if she had a persistent crush on him. By the summer, she thinks nothing of holding his hand, and does this again in HSM III. She gives him a hug when he’s feeling down, which suggests a level of familiarity not possible for a shy girl who has this all-encompassing crush on East High’s Primo Boy. I see Kelsi as becoming more open and more mature throughout the movies, not forever repressed by her feelings. Her song lyrics in HSM III are a reflection of this positive change. I struggle to reconcile this with the Crush Theory.

Secondly, the Crush Theory undermines the importance of Kelsi’s introduction to Troy. There’s far more to that scene than physical attraction; it’s about finding a kindred spirit, acceptance, about Troy building up her confidence and revealing the girl within who always wanted to shine but never could do so. I find the Crush Theory problematic in that it would imply that Kelsi’s feelings of friendship towards Troy were at least partially motivated by attraction. This demeans the friendship to me. This introduction definitely leads to friendship first. A common understanding and chemistry in the sense that they communicate so effectively with little to no words, and are always by each other’s side no matter what.

Thirdly, the Crush theory is short-lived. Kelsi is one of the first to see that Troy at least, is heavily invested in Gabriella. If Kelsi did have this crush, then she would have had to shelve it pretty fast once she saw that it was completely pointless. Troy Bolton is King of East High and unattainable for 98% of the female population. Kelsi may be an idealist, but her persistence shows that she has a realistic side. I can’t, especially in light of Kelsi’s increasing comfort around Troy, see her continuing to hold a flame for someone who is resolutely unavailable, knowing full well that such feelings are unlikely to be returned. That would put a whole depressing aspect to the Crush. If it happened, perhaps it ended quickly. Furthermore, I have already stated that Kelsi has a strong investment in people: a crush is not a strong investment. It is fleeting, and changes like the wind. Kelsi is deeply emotional and would need to feel as though the object of her affections was as deeply connected to her in return; canonically speaking, Troy is not. So why would she suffer in silence? Given her ability to find another path when one isn’t working for her, I can’t see Kelsi in a constant state of Purgatory here.

The most important reason why the Crush Theory is lacking is that Kelsi dated Jason for a significant period of time and seemed perfectly happy doing so. I have already explained why it is not in Kelsi’s nature to “settle” for anything. Her interaction with Jason was affectionate, and for the period where he was actually invested in her, he reciprocated that affection. It would be easy to see why Kelsi might have a crush on Troy; he is gorgeous, charming, lovely, smart, dorky, sweet and romantic. Jason on the other hand, is awkward, handsome in a boyish kind of way and definitely not the brightest spark at all. And even though Kelsi looks incredulous when Jason fails to respond to Mr. Fulton’s prepping on how to treat “Miss Evans”, she appears not to take issue with Jason’s penchant for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Jason doesn’t seem to care much about his style, pairing shirts and t-shirts and baggy jeans. (Not unlike Kelsi’s sense of fashion throughout HSM I and II! :D) His hair is always wild, and he chews gum, has the co-ordination of a toddler learning to walk and is no way near as mature as his composer girlfriend. Still, Kelsi chooses to be with him. If she preferred Troy with his effortless romantic gestures, smooth-talking, intelligent conversation and so on, then she had every opportunity to seek out such a romantic partner. She is often shown in HSM III with some other members of the school band, and we are to assume that she was keeping them in order for the musical. There were plenty of other boys she could have dated. However, she maintained a relationship with Jason despite him not being Greek God material. And Martha’s flirtatiousness with Jason is testament to his own appeal to girls. The length of time that Kelsi dated Jason would be sufficient for her to shelve any such crush feelings, should they have existed. From Kelsi’s song lyrics, she seems to value honesty and genuine commitment in a relationship, thus making it unlikely that she would knowingly date someone with whom she had little to no connection, let alone whilst thinking about someone else.

So no, I don’t consider it mandatory in the Trelsi ship to believe that Kelsi had a crush on him. Unorthodox? Yes. But hey, I love that.

That being said, did Kelsi write her songs for Jason? I don’t think so. Their relationship did not strike me as having the quality that she longed for in her songs. Those songs express an ideal state. Will Kelsi attain it? That is entirely for her to decide, and I don’t know whether she feels her songs are truly representative of romance or maybe just part of her escapism.

In the next instalment, I will discuss the superior potential of Trelsi romance, particularly where it might have worked in place of the canonical narrative.

TO BE CONTINUED

#Trelsi #OTP #Playmakers #TroyBolton #KelsiNielsen #JasonCross #WroteALotOfShit #HighSchoolMusical3 #TrelsiUpcoming #LiterallyTroyandKelsiForever

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isadorator · 8 years

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A Fic Year in Review - 2016

It's that time again~ And I wrote so much this year, holy shit. As usual, any concrit and comments are welcome~~ (as are requests, when open lol)

January

what are THOOOOSE a superhero's holiday

Oh jeez. Both these fics got way more attention than I thought they would. But I keep underestimating the ML fandom tbh. The first was basically me goofing around and I somehow ended up promising to write a sequel since everyone wanted one (which I...still need to do.....). The second was a flag for both my descent into ladrien hell and also a return to my nsfw ways orz;;;;

February

you are gold and silver (1/2)

IT TOOK. SO. L O N G. TO WRITE THIS. Although this fic is firmly in AU territory now thanks to being beautifully jossed by canon, it helped me realize just how much I needed to grow in order to write romantic intimacy in a believable way. So, I made it my goal to work on it until it was up to my own standards.

(I...still need to finish this fic too......)

March

jackady ladrien drabble prompts (1/2):

ribbons

fan merchandise

artistic muse

make-outs

stuck in a small place

rain

smiles

croissants

never have i ever

i want to touch them

jackady ladrien drabble prompts (2/2):

damsel in distress

beauty facial masks

visible marks

ice cream sandwiches

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (1/9):

the 4 times adrien pretended to shower to hide from ladybug (and the 1 time he was actually showering when she calls out his bullshit)

disney

halloween

tried to kiss your lips but i missed

magic

staring into each other’s eyes

Ah, the plan being put into action! With the release of actual ladrien eps, I had the perfect excuse to write romantic scenario after romantic scenario using submitted prompts. Which also meant I accidentally created a secret love affair AU and wrote more smut whoops. Still, they were super fun! I took a break halfway through to write some Inuyasha-inspired marichat that just would not leave me alone (also fun).

(....I promised to write a continuation of the 'never have i ever' prompt, didn't I alrjkdsflaks. AND TANGLED AU SHIT I ALMOST FORGOT)

April

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (2/9):

music

moaning

sweat

bath

they go on a date together

soulmate au

photographs

“i love you. i’m completely and utterly in love with you. please don’t get married.”

the one time ladybug actually catches adrien in the shower

ACTUALLY in the shower

“of all the people i could’ve gotten stuck in an elevator with and it just had to be you.”

mirror

More ladrien prompts/romance practice~ The music prompt is still one the most cracktastic things I've ever written lol. Managed to make two more AUs with this batch that I've already started to expand on: the soulmate AU and the auteur AU. Lastly, in a surprise twist, the fucking elevator prompt managed to gather over 1k in notes. Probably because I ripped off Sailor Moon but. Still.

May

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (3/9):

another shower scene

porn

away from home

“you have mom’s smile.” he said this to ladybug once, but he thinks it again and again and again. but ladybug is better: she is real.

calling bullshit

untitled continuation of a comic by pozolegirl

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (4/9):

under the covers

eyelashes

mega nachos

“i heard that the spots on your bodysuit corresponds to chakra points? so… what happens if i touch this?”

cute nose/forehead kisses

their first time

happiness

“i need you to pretend we’re dating…”

“is there anything you’re not good at?”

More Volpina prompts! Again, I like experimenting with them :D Also wrote a continuation of that Christmas comic because it was just way too cute~~

June

ladrien june 2016 drabble prompts (1/6):

love poem

awkwardness

games

i can show you the world

first love

everyone can see it

shower scene

jealousy

it’s a trap

insecurities

sins cannot be undone

ladrien june 2016 drabble prompts (2/6):

jealous fangirls/boys

“you have her smile”

gabriel | hawkmoth’s reaction

it’s not you, it’s my enemies

secret dating

window kisses

Oooooh boy. The triple whammy of Ladrien June, Ramadan, and starting my summer job. I was excited to have a month dedicated to just ladrien (as if I hadn't already dedicated most of my year to it lol) but fell behind pretty quickly thanks to my lack of free time. I aim to finish them this year!

And Ramadan. Man. It always sends my mental health straight into the toilet. Not because of the holiday itself, but because of the way my family treats it. Idk. I tried to flush away the bad feelings by punching out 'sins cannot be undone' in one night. And it helped, I suppose. It's definitely the rawest thing I wrote this year and I still have very strong feelings about it.

July

three sentence prompts:

ladynoir, spy au

nino and marinette, karaoke au

ladrien, bodyguard au

ladrien, superman/lois lane au

adrien and tikki, baking au

alix and kim, and the one-time-max-actually-won au

alya and marinette, vigilante au

adrienette, foreign countries

ladynoir, and the elevator game/ritual

Between work and writing various wips that I still haven't posted yet (*coughcoughconjugalvisitcough*), I only posted stuff from this meme. I had fun (the goal) and the adrien&tikki kwamiswap AU one is still my fave |D *slams fists on table* LET ADRIEN BE A BAKER!!!!

August

untitled continuation of a comic by geek-fashionista insomaniac and the chaton pile

UMMMM My summer job ended by this point, so my only excuse for not posting much is it's all tied up in unpublished wips and...I was freaking out about starting school next month for the first time in y e a r s;;; Just some drabbles for the sidekick AU (not mine) and my own, sleep-deprived ideas (that I...still find hilarious alkdjfhalksd I DID NOT EXPECT ANYONE ELSE TO???)

September

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (5/9):

embarrassing hobbies (aka: adrien is secretly a popular ladynoir fanfic writer)

water

mlnsfweek prompts (1/3):

laughter

roleplay

make 'em blush

we've got time

"i can’t believe we survived" sex

wet dreams

virginity

STILL REALLY STRESSED ABOUT SCHOOL, which translated into a lot of writing. Did a couple of Volpina prompts, including time ≠ water. Which. Got way more attention than I expected;;;; And that I...also promised to expand on......;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

And then #mlnsfweek hit and I'm actually really proud of myself for finishing the whole week, even if it was late~ /o/ Did some random scenarios, including some futurefic for the timebreaker AU. I still cackle every time I think of the wet dreams prompt tbh XDDD

October

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (6/9):

inside a video game

horror movies

“who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?!”

aching muscles from running all over the city, and then: "would a massage help?"

chocolate

discovering their sensitive spots

“so close” from enchanted

As usual, more Volpina prompts in between school and wips. Not really much to say except it was around now (or maybe September? My memory is horrible) that I realized I had developed a pretty good grasp on romance and could start working on upping my daily wordcount. I really want the mental stamina to complete a chapter fic one day...

November

mlnsfweek prompts (2/3):

marks

School REALLY started to pick up in difficulty and I signed up for a fic exchange and a fanzine. Despite really wanting to, I didn't have time or energy to do more than one prompt for the #mlnsfweek redux, but I plan to complete it~ I have Ideas.

December

oh, the things i do for you (the bubbler remix)

volpina ladrien drabble prompts (7/9):

bruises and scars

cold hands, warm hearts

I'm never, ever committing to more than one fic deadline near exam time ever again. I nearly died last month as I rushed to complete these fics, my studying, and prep for my vacation that started right after exams (I'm still recovering;;;). The remix is currently the longest fic I've written to date, including my wips! Holy shit!!!

Both were done very last minute, but I'm pretty happy with how they turned out. I tried to finish the last of the Volpina prompts before the end of the year, but alas, time was not on my side. Better luck next year~ :'D

Total Year’s Output: ....58,718 words;;;

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

.......This is almost twice as much as I did last year. I actually passed the NaNoWriMo standard. Oh my god. There is no fucking way I would have predicted this last year. And that's not counting all the wips aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH—

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January 2016?

Uhhhh, Bustier/Mendeleiev, definitely. Also DjWifi?? I just wasn't into it at all last year, but now I'm rooting for them. Also, I did not expect to write this much smut, but here we are. ALSO MARIE/ADRIEN/MARINETTE AKA THE OT3 AKA LOVE SQUARED (the homestuck in me will never die)

What’s your favourite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest.

Happy...? Hmmmm....There's stuff that makes me laugh, that I'm proud of...

...I know it's not published yet or even done, but...probably conjugal visit. Not only is it chock full of my favourite type of ladrien, it's...sort of my thesis on emotional intimacy? It's proof of my progress. I look at it and I can feel my determination to grow and to move on from the mental rut I was stuck in for most of my life, that I won't let my past keep my from recognizing my own emotions and learning empathy, not forever.

(Maybe that's pride and contentment and hope more than happiness, but I'll damn well take it)

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?

I ALWAYS SAY THIS but...I really want to finish my wips.....and I want to start an actual chaptered fic. Not a one-shot collection or a drabble collection. Long, plotty, gen or romance (or both!!), chapter fic. I want to write something that will keep people up all night, lying to themselves when they say 'just one more chapter'. I think I actually have a shot at completing one now, at my current skill and confidence level |D

#procrastinating on the newest fic with memes #what a why to start the year #isayear #isameme

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