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exhailodile · 1 month

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FROM MY POLL: Alastor x fem sinner!reader

sorry for being so late

ANYWAYS

Reader is a doe, who knew Alastor as a human(they are both cannibals, this is 5 years before Alastor's death) .

You two were oddly close, you were the only he showed PDA to. Even just small things like a touch on your shoulder, leaning against you, saying you look nice, or even just a flick were how he showed his affection to you. He tried to deny his feelings for you, until you died in his arms.

This is the dress you’re wearing during this time

——PAST——

“Y/N L/N. You have been sentenced to death for your crimes against the country.” A police officer spoke, his voice monotone and loud for the people of their country to hear.

You struggled in the chains that kept you from moving freely. “You have the wrong person!” You shouted as if you were attempting to convince yourself.

“Silence!” He spoke again. “Tomorrow as the clock strikes 12, your death will come.” And with that, they began to take you away.

Struggling, tears fell down your face in fear. You didn’t want to die. “No! Let me go!” The crowd of people left fast, all returning to their homes. Except for one person, who stayed standing in place as others pushed past him. Eyes wide and terrified, he couldn’t say anything. “Alastor!” You cried out before you were taken away successfully.

Eyes swollen from the salty tears, you heard a guard speak. “Be quick.” Pitter Patter of shoes hit the concrete floor. They were quick paced and made you look through the bars. The feet stopped as they saw you. Alastor.

He walked up to you, hand reaching for your cheek through the bars. “I’m going to find a way to get you out.”

His kindness towards you seemed different than usual. His determined eyes struck you like a sword.

“Alastor I-” You could feel the tears threatening to fall from your e/c eyes.

“It’s going to be alright.” He let go of your cheek and pulled something out of his pocket. A key, it’s sparkling gold shimmered in the moonlight.

“Here,” he grabbed your hand and dropped the key in it. “I’ll cause a distraction tomorrow morning. That key will unlock your cell. I’ll meet you in the forest.” His voice was low and quiet. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Your time is up. Come.” The guard from before yelled from a little ways away.

“I’ll see you then. Y/n.” Alastor began to walk away after holding your hand roughly.

Something about the way he said your name made you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

Throughout the night you kept wondering what his distraction would be and if it would actually get the guards to leave their posts.

When you fell asleep, cold took over your body, and you later awoke from the yelling of guards. “Emergency! All guards to the captains quarters!” The sound of feet pitter-pattering against the stone floors alerted you that Alastors plan was successful.

You grabbed the key from under your yellow stained and muddy pillow. You rushed to unlock you from the cell. The frozen cold bars hurt your fragile skin as you leaned against them in an attempt to free yourself. Suddenly, with a click, the cage unlocked and you almost fell as the door swung open against your weight.

You carefully closed the cells door and tiptoe-ran through the jail bars. Some other people who were trapped in jail cells either yelled at you to let them out or cheered you on. Some even whistled at the sight of your dress flowing around your body, almost showing a little too much.

You ran up the stairs, tripping once before quickly recovering. The different paths all looked the same besides the painting. Thankfully you remembered the way you came when they forced you in jail.

You took two rights and a left before standing in front of the main entrance doors. Suddenly, you heard feet running towards you. Guards yelling, “Find her! Find Y/n!” You barged out the door and ran through your town.

Gasps were made around you as people spotted you, - the one who murdered the mayor and his wife - who were set to pay for your sins at 12.

You bumped into people who you once thought of family as you heard guards yell and chase you.

Finally, you reached the forest. The pine scent rushed through your nose and out your mouth as you took a breath. You could still hear the guards and you kicked off your small heels. You took one last deep breath before rushing it.

Small branches and pine needles stabbed your feet while you ran. You couldn’t care less, all you wanted was to see Alastor. Suddenly as you passed a tree, you felt an arm grab your wrist which pulled you close to the figure.

You felt the figure hold you close to your chest, the eyes fixated on the surrounding trees. Looking up, you saw him. Alastor. “Alastor-”

“Sh. They’re coming.” After he spoke, guards ran past you two, not seeing you at all. After a few minutes he let you go from his chest and looked you in the eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” His pet name made your cheeks flush a soft pink.

“Yes, Alastor. I’m so glad you’re safe.” You hugged him gently, and although he was a little surprised, he returned the gesture.

“We should leave before they come back.” He spoke, almost not wanting to.

You let go, smiled, and followed him when he walk to the right. You heard a shot, it sounded far away. Although something felt funny. It hurt. Why did it hurt?

Alastor seemed scared as he turned to look at you. His eyes went wide when he sude your figure. Looking down at your side, you saw red liquid start pour out. The metallic smell took over your senses as you realized what happened.

You had been shot.

Your legs gave out and you fell to the ground. Alastor ran to you, his warmer hands wripped a piece of his jacket off. He struggled with it but being successful, he applied pressure to your wound.

You could hear guards running and yelling in your direction.

“Alastor,” You tried to get his attention and failing. “Alastor.” Your words were stricter yet no reaction was made. If anything, he pushed against your wound harder. You hissed in pain, finally getting his attention. "You need to go, leave me here, they can't hurt me anymore."

“Y/n. You’re going to be okay- we’ll get you to a doctor- I promi-”

“Alastor, stop!” His eyes went wide and his strength against your side was lifted. “Alastor, I’m sorry I can’t stay with you anymore.” You reached for his cheek and he held your hand on his skin.

“Don’t say that.”

“You know it’s true.” He was quiet. “I need to tell you something.” You prompted yourself on your free arm. Alastor let go of your hand and reached under your back, holding you up.

“You can tell me tomorrow when you’re in the hospital.”

“You know they won’t save me. I’m wanted and was supposed to die soon anyways." He looked at you with uncertain eyes, trying to convince himself you would be okay. You felt your eyes start to get heavy and thoughts started to combine.

Alastor noticed this. "You can't leave me. You are all I have." His hand trailed from your back to your hair, letting strands gather in between his fingers.

"I love you, Alastor." Alastor felt many emotions start to gather in his heart. Fear, sadness, happiness, shock, etc. And before he could process those four words, the hand that once held his cheek fell.

Your muscles slowly died, your senses dying last. First feeling, then sight, taste, smell, and lastly, hearing.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Soft ringing soon replaced his pleas.

That was it, you were dead. Yet, why were you still there? You still felt alive, if that was even possible.

Your eyes shot open. Where were you? There were buildings engulfed in flames, and a red sky seemed to go on forever.

"Is this... hell?" You spoke out loud to yourself. Deciding to try and figure it out, you began to walk around. You could feel something different about yourself. Was it just that you were dead, or maybe this was how you usually felt and you just realized it now. You'd figure it out later.

As you walked throughout this dark place, you saw many different people? It seemed that humans turned into animals or gadgets. You had wondered if you did. You stumbled upon a small town. The people there weren't animals, but grey skinned with pitch black eyes.

"Are you lost, dear?" You heard a woman's gentle voice and turned to the direction. She was rather pretty considering this was... well. Hell.

You didn't really know how to respond.

"Oh my, you must be new here! My name is Rosie, and this is Cannibal town." Her smile was warm and inviting. "If you aren't a cannibal, I recommend not staying here." As she said that you could see some cannibals start inching towards you.

"Oh! I am one, which may be part of the reason I am here." You let out a small chuckle and start to notice the demons smile gently at you, which made you feel welcomed.

"Wonderful. I'll show you around..."

"Y/n."

Your time in hell was quite fun, considering the conflicts. One thing that surprised you, were the exterminations. Angels, coming down once a year to kill demons didn't seem so... holy. But, as long as you stayed safe, you didn't mind so much.

Who knew it would take almost a century to meet your loved one yet again.

"Rosie!" You were as cheerful as ever, "Did you hear? Adam died?!" You were still so shocked at the news.

"I heard, deer." Rosie was like a mother to you now, her wisdom and guidance always warmed your heart.

"Then that means maybe the exterminations might end!" You hopped on your hooves with glee, arms pushed up to your chest.

Rosie smiled and let out a small chuckle. "Deer, the one who killed Adam is a member of that hotel I've been talking about."

"The one that redeems sinners?"

"Correct! I do think you should go there, at least once." She was always telling you to check it out.

"Fine, only a day though. And if I don't like it I'm coming back and you have to stop telling me to go there!" You really didn't want to. You felt at home with Rosie and the other cannibals.

"Wonderful, deer!"

So, that's how you ended up here. Standing in front of the newly built Hazbin Hotel.

"You're doing this for Rosie, Y/n. Maybe you'll meet some new friends who aren't cannibals?" You took a deep breath before opening the doors.

The interior was beautifully made, it reminded you of a previous life, although you couldn't quite remember who's life it was.

Immediately, you noticed the demons in the living room. A spider demon, laid on the couch, seeming to not be listening to... well the Princess of Hell.

You saw a cat-like demon cleaning classes in the left of the entrance. You thought he looked rather cute for a demon(in a way where you just want to take him home and eat him).

The sudden stopping of voices and attention towards you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello! I'm Charlie! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" The bright demon walked up to you, her smile shining brightly.

You tried to look anywhere except her eyes, "Uhm, Y/n. Nice to meet you."

"Are you here to be a resident here and redeem yourself?" She seemed really excited... it seemed she was getting her hopes up.

"Well... I just want to see how it is here. I don't really plan to stay, I told a friend I would attend for a day." Her smile somehow grew larger.

"Great! Let's introduce you to everyone!" She walked you to the couch, which a bulletin board with "Redemption" in bright colours stood in front of it.

"Everyone, this is Y/n! It seems she'll be staying for a day... so let's make her feel welcome!" You gave a weak smile, "That's Angel, Vaggie, my girlfriend, and Husker is over there." Husker gave a small wave before returning to cleaning glasses.

"Charlie, you better not let her near Alastor, you do know he eats his own kind, right?" The spider demon smirked at his own comment.

Alastor. Alastor. Alastor. His name echoed through your skull.

"Not let who near me?" A slimey-looking blackness arose from the ground before revealing a demon way too similar to your love for it not to be him. The name, the suit, the face. It was him. Alastor.

Angel looked at him before looking back towards me. "Her."

Alastor looked directly at you, he seemed to be struggling to keep his smile

You on the other hand, had a warm smile on your face. "Alastor-"

"Come." He seemed to be keeping up an act in front of these people, just like when you two were alive. You walked to his side and he started to walk up the steps of the hotel.

"See I told you, Charlie." You could hear Angel from the couch.

"I think we'll be seeing her around more." Your ears perked up at Huskers voice. It felt like you could hear his smirk.

Alastor finally stopped in front of a room, only to open it and let you in before him. He shut the door behind him and you couldn't help but feel at piece.

"Y/n?" His voice was uncertain and filled with doubt.

You reached into the pocket of your dress(imagine with me here) and pulled out a crumpled up photograph. Alastor quickly realized what you were doing and did the same, you both uncrumpled it and showed it to each other. You saw yourself in his, and Alastor saw himself in yours.

He stepped closer to you until you were almost chest-to-chest. In one quick motion, you wrapped your arms around Alastor's neck. He felt a little shocked at the movement, but inched his arms forward till they were around your waist.

"Alastor. Oh, Alastor. I've missed you so much." You held onto him tighter as you took a deep breath of his scent.

"I wish I could've met with you sooner, darling." His breath was warm against your ear.

"It's alright now, we're together again." You both stood like that for a minute, just taking it all in. You were there, in that moment.

Alastor broke the silence first. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"What you said before you died."

"That I loved you?" You assumed his silence meant yes. "I do mean it, I still feel that way. Even after all this time." You retracted your arms and placed your palms against his chest. "Alastor. I never want to leave your side ever again. The pain of being away hurt much more than death itself."

"I feel the same, Y/n. I never wish to leave again."

You put your face against his, nose touching. Alastor let in a breath of air before letting out three simple words. "I love you."

THE END

I just want to get this out so I don't have to keep rushing it. Ignore the mood changes and bad character personality writing(I can't be bothered currently).

This was not proofread, 2481 words.

Alastor seems like a little twink in this but... I'M DONE... and tired.

Anyways... take a quick breath... and have a nice day :)

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #lazy

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anika-ann · 3 years

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Attached: The One Word

The Three Times Steve Didn’t Get to Hear the One Word He Wanted and the One Time He Did

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 7700 👀

Summary: In which Steve really, really wants to ask you the question, but the odds are always against him – absurdly so. Maybe it’s fate and he shouldn’t ask. Or maybe the universe just hates him and punishes him for tainting a girl like you and wanting you all for himself officially.

Warnings: lots of swearing, crack-ish, briefest smut so 18+ only please, sickness and fluff

A/N: I say this to you, my friends – I do not at all envy men in a heterosexual relationship for being expected to pop the question. I would chicken out every time, I’m sure of it. Enjoy!

Story masterlist

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Steve liked to think important things through. He liked planning. He liked to have all the facts and view things from different angles before making a decision.

Therefore, wanting to marry you was something he was perfectly certain of and two months after he received your mother’s blessings – two months of slowly reducing costs, preparing to lower incomes, not that they had ever been glorious ever –, Steve had a feeling that the time was finally right and that he was ready to pop the question. He was.

The only problem was that the universe started plotting against him.

Big time.

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Palmeri was a relatively new restaurant, but quickly gaining reputation. Steve had heard Carol talking about taking her girlfriend there for the fun of trying a new spot and getting a taste of fancy Italian. Clearly that had a good time; the moment he learned, he started considering it. Two days later, he had to make a reservation for a week later, because the word of the delicious food travelled fast.

That was fine with him, even if he felt like he was about to jump out of his skin before the date finally arrived. Still, he advertised the fact to you that he would like to celebrate your early wrapped up exams already foreshadowing that you would obviously slayed the one you were supposed to have a day prior Friday.

When you heard the name of the restaurant, your eyes twinkled like fairy lights, a squeal of delight escaping your lips before they swiftly found his to kiss him crazy. Steve’s heart thundered in his chest as you ran off back to your books with newly-found motivation, his nerves mingling with the satisfaction that you appreciated his idea – even if you couldn’t have no clue about what he was about to do.

He could only hope that you’d be as delighted at him sinking to one knee.

But he would have to get out of this fucking interfaculty meeting FIRST!

“Seeing as the satisfaction of the students apparently took a nose dive according to the university poll last month…” Fury continued rambling, his serious and mildly snarky voice carrying through the conference room, as if mocking Steve who anxiously eyed the clock, again.

The reservation was for seven thirty.

It was five to seven.

Half an hour ago, Steve hated the idea of not taking a shower and looking his absolute best while proposing to you.

Now? Every option looked better than this. He would arrive to the restaurant all sweaty and catching his breath if he took off right this moment. And even that seemed impossible; president Fury, that son of a bitch, was nowhere close to ending the meeting.

51 weeks. 51 Fridays Fury could have called the meeting.

Nope, that bastard picked this one, the one Friday Steve was planning on sweeping you off your feet and asking you to be his for the rest of your lives.

Fucking asshole.

“Got anything to add, Professor Rogers?” a gruff voice asked him and Steve jumped in his chair and nearly dropped the phone he was pulling out of his pocket to text you with his deepest regrets – but he had to, otherwise you’d already be on your way.

Best if he saved you the embarrassment; best if you stayed home at least, all dolled up and pretty and smiling for him to show off.

Goddammit fuck.

Steve’s eyes snapped to Fury, meeting a glare that seemed even sterner with only one functioning eye.

Steve gritted his teeth and determinedly gripping his phone.

“No,” he shot back, biting his cheek when Fury’s eyebrow rose at his snappy tone. “I mean… I need to make a phone call. If you’d excuse me, it will be just a minute.”

Likely story. He would have to be apologizing for at least three minutes straight and then crawl on his knees when he finally got back home; not because you’d be so unforgiving and angry, but because it would be the right thing to do after disappointing your precious heart.

He was about to make you sad. He fucking hated making you sad.

“Make it three tops,” the president grumbled, but luckily didn’t pry what was so important for him to leave the room.

“Stevie!” your bright voice greeted him from the speaker and Steve’s heart seized in his chest, his fist automatically clenching in anger. He was about to crush you because of a dumb-ass useless meeting. He brought the fist to his mouth to stop himself from greeting you equally delighted way and fleeting the university grounds. “I’m just about to take off! I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it. Did Fury give you a hard time? … Steve?”

Steve, much to his horror, found his eyes prickling with tears of frustration as his name on your lips sounded suddenly unsure.

Fuck. This.

“Hey babygirl,” he said finally and the roughness of his voice must have been everything you needed to hear to understand.

“You can’t make it.”

Steve wanted to tear his hair out at the defeat in your voice. Talk about a nose dive of your mood. He was gonna fucking scream.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered instead, the apology so pathetic in comparison to what he wanted to say.

But that was the irony – you couldn’t even begin to guess how much it sucked for the two of you to not being able to go to the damn Palmeri. You didn’t know the main tragedy, only a part of it. You didn’t know he had been about to propose.

Silence stretched between the two of you and Steve tilted his head back, blinking against the sting in his eyes, his stomach sinking to his feet.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed eventually, sounding as if you were trying to convince him as much as yourself.

Steve could imagine precisely the disappointment on your face, the fall of your expression, pretty features no doubt having been accented by make-up just the right amount twisting. He could see clearly how your lips made for smiles turned downward, lower lip maybe even trembling a bit.

Steve was gonna murder Fury.

“But it is. I’m so sorry, I know how excited you were and so was I and— I’m just really sorry.”

“I know, Steve,” you breathed out weakly and he could hear the attempt of a smile in your next words. “Come home soon, yeah? I’ll wait for you.”

Steve’s heart grew in size so rapidly it actually hurt.

“I love you, sweetheart. I know--- I know you might not wanna hear it now and that it doesn’t mean much, but I really do,” he creaked.

“It does. Bye, Steve.”

Steve’s fingers clutched at the phone, eyes falling shut in defeat.

You were nice about it, sure, but the fact that you didn’t say I love you back didn’t escape him as didn’t the switch from Stevie to Steve; the subtle hints sat heavily in his gut as he returned to the room.

He met Bucky’s compassionate gaze – of course Buck knew about why Steve was distracted during the assembly – and quickly looked away, once again excusing himself for the interruption even if there was nothing sincere about his words.

His chest ached for the rest of the meeting – and would for the rest of the night.

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He did not come home soon – in fact, it was nearing eleven when he finally opened the door, trying to make no sound when he found the apartment plunged into dark. He grimaced, jaw clenching; you were already asleep.

A fresh surge of anger shot into his veins; the university hated him, he was certain of it – and the other way around. He had missed his shot because of a meeting that was literally about nothing. Fuck his life.

He grumbled, the only sound he allowed himself to make when moving around the apartment, switching the dimmest light he could as not to wake you – because disappointing you was enough, the least he could do was not to disturb your sleep.

Frustrated, tired and hungry, he tiptoed to the kitchen to grab a bite. He was starving and even though he was exhausted and craved nothing but to wrap his arms around you and sink into the cushions, he knew hunger would wake him up a few hours later if he went to bed with an empty stomach.

Upon opening the fridge, a surprise welcomed him; a ham & cheese sandwich ready on a plate, a small Tupperware box with pieces of tomatoes and cucumber on side, a sticky note simply reading ‘Stevie’.

His breath got stuck in his throat, heart hammering in his ribcage – that was how moved he was by your gesture. He knew that you must have been as upset as you had been excited to have the fancy dinner with him, but here you were, pushing your sorrows and anger aside and preparing him food, a possible olive branch.

The sandwich was nothing fancy by any means; but God, Steve loved you just a little bit more at that moment for he didn’t have to move a finger to eat so late and you even took care to set his vegetables aside, because you knew how much he hated when the bread got squishy with the juice.

Gratefully biting into his late-night meal, Steve swore to himself he would spend the rest of his life spoiling you rotten.

When he finally got to cautiously cuddle you from behind – eyeing the absolutely stunning dress you were supposed to wear hanging outside the closet as if there to mock him – you stirred at the dip of the mattress.

Lazily blinking your eyes open, you welcomed him with a raspy hey and he had a half mind to just take the ring from the safety of its velvet box and slip it on your finger right there.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I’m so so sorry,” he whispered, tentatively wrapping his arm around your midsection, unsure if he wasn’t in disgrace after all. You just hummed and rolled over to face him, burying your face in his chest, heavy limbs wrapping around him as if you were an octopus – the most adorable, precious, beautiful and perfect octopus in the world. His octopus. “I love you so much. I promise to make it up to you.”

“Uh-huh. Looking forward to it. Now sleep,” you mumbled to Steve’s sleepshirt, half-grumpy half-sounding as if not caring for what he was saying at all, causing him to feel warm all over.

Oh he was so going to show you just how he could make it up to you. He would marry the shit out of you.

Just you wait.

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Because of a water incident, Palmeri closed three days after Steve’s first failed attempt – and assumptions were that it would remain so for a month, because they needed to redecorate.

That meant a new plan for Steve, because he could not wait that long. Out of question. He needed to hear you say yes as soon as possible. Yesterday had been too late.

So, he asked Sam for a recommendation – casually, he believed – and somehow ended up with the man looking at him for a few seconds before realization dawned on his face.

“Oooooh, I see how it is! Need something real nice, huh?” Sam whistled, a teasing grin on his face as he patted Steve’s shoulder for support. “Relax, I gotcha, man. All you need; cosy atmosphere, but classy, white table cloths and everything. The right place to take her to in order to butter her up and make her all putty.”

Steve didn’t manage to quite hide his embarrassment at being so obvious, but he knew that Sam was a friend and all his shit-talking was good-natured, always knowing where the boundaries were; he wasn’t a counsellor for nothing.

And Steve had to give it to him – the place he recommended was just what he promised it would be and exactly what Steve needed.

You were all smiles and some giggles, little tipsy on the second glass of the wine, eyes shining in the dim lights, somehow lighting up more whenever you caught him staring at you. It was the perfect display of all the good things you were, ones he adored about you, the light of his life and gazing at him as if he was yours too.

Downing some of the liquid courage himself and with you so gorgeously giddy, Steve felt his confidence building up during the night and was just about ready to get on one knee once you finished your shared dessert.

“This is good!” you gushed, digging the fork if into the cake to get another bite and Steve grinned, unable to help himself as he agreed.

“Uh-huh, sweet. But not as sweet as you.”

You stopped mid-chew, eyes meeting his and he felt his face burn hot with embarrassment at such cheesy comment.

You swallowed, gaze still fixed on him as he busied himself with the sweet treat, and then you chuckled, causing his face to turn entirely red.

“You, Steve Rogers, are so corny sometimes,” you mocked him lightly, but when he looked up, sheepish and with his confidence bruised, he found you all starry-eyed still, watching him adoringly as if he hung the moon – and he would, for you – and Steve felt himself settle again. “But I still love you. Maybe even more for that.”

It was a wonderful opening, things really going his way – but he hesitated a second too long, like an idiot, and the next thing he knew, a string quartet, a damn string quartet, walked straight to the elderly couple two tables over, one of the group congratulating them to their thirtieth anniversary and at that moment…

Well. At that moment, Steve really fucking hated them.

Who fucking cared they were a sweet elderly couple?! Steve could only dream about you two becoming them one day as of now, because they ruined just another of his fucking shots!

He couldn’t believe that he missed his window again.

And what more, you cooed under your breath, a silent aww falling from your lips and Steve knew that anything less than a string quartet accompanying a marriage proposal when delivered in a restaurant was a no-go.

So scratch that one off the list.

All guests clapped their hands, more of awws coming from different directions and you proceeded to take his hand, gentle fingers stroking over his knuckles and Steve knew one thing with absolute certainty; he needed to propose tonight otherwise he might burst.

At home then, he would ask you at home. Who even wanted something as cliché and public as he had planned? Lame. You were a private pair, some people still judged you upon seeing you together; a little intimate proposal in your home after a fancy sweet dinner would be just the thing.

Steve just had to figure how exactly and at what moment to ask. He’d be fine. You’d say yes. Right?

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts and plans that he barely noticed you growing skittish during the taxi ride, but he certainly noticed when you started practically jumping by his side as he was unlocking the door to your apartment, confused by your antics.

The second Steve opened it and stepped inside, he found himself being shoved back-first towards a wall, your hands on his chest, sliding up and down his coat and blindly undoing the buttons as your mouth assaulted his, a soft mewl vibrating against his lips, wandering hands appreciative when they slipped under the lapels of his coat and jacket.

Steve’s head spun at the display of desire, a sudden pleasant dizziness overtaking his body, all rational thoughts vaporizing as you rocked against his crotch, his cock twitching in excitement at the friction and at the way his tongue had to fight against yours. His brain grew foggy at the faint taste of wine and the cake you had shared, his hands automatically grabbing your waist to keep you close, fingers squeezing your hips and ass to urge you closer when he rolled his hips against yours, eliciting needy moans from your lips-

You withdrew for just a second to catch your breath, lips skimming over his jaw, revelling at the feel of his beard on your skin he knew you loved, hasty words whispered into his flesh.

“Dammit, Steve, you look so fucking hot in this suit--- oh Stevie,” you whimpered when his hands slipped under your backside to tease your clothed weeping core, the sensation setting his blood on fire, the delicious friction and your dirty mouth everything that mattered in the world. “Let me suck you off-“

Steve nearly choked on his own spit upon hearing that, almost losing his balance with his legs turning into jelly and all his blood rushing into his dick.

Yeah, Steve might be a professor but he was a simple guy.

When his girl, in those stunning hot as hell dress begged him to let her get on her knees to blow his dick and his mind, he really couldn’t find himself refusing, the coil in his belly searing hot by the time you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, so pretty, doe-eyed, lips kiss-swollen and willing and so fucking devilish as you freed his cock and licked the drop of precum already forming there.

“Fuck, babygirl, what’s gotten into you-“ was all he managed to ask before all he could think off was the velvety heat of your mouth, taking him all in and making him see stars, the jewellery box in the pocket of his coat long forgotten.

And fuck was also his first coherent thought in the morning, when he realized that once again, the proposal attempt ended up being an utter failure.

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Steve had established after his two and half failed proposals that he wouldn’t make any reservations in some dumb restaurant. Just no. Privacy it would be; something personal, accompanied with a simple and yet big enough gesture, him doing something just for you, following with words of you being his world or something.

Yeah.

And for once, it seemed that the universe that had seemed to hate him, finally started playing in his favour.

The weather was going crazy, sun and spring in a middle of February and Steve had a revelation – he was going to take you out for a picnic. It was going to be perfect; he’d take you outside the city, find a quiet corner, just you and him, nothing in your way and more importantly, in his way to pop the question.

Steve was certain that you’d prefer this to anything else anyway, loving when he made an effort to create something for you. He still remembered when you first discovered he enjoyed drawing and you practically melted into a puddle when you found drawings of yourself too, allegedly displaying you prettier than you were – as if.

So, picnic it was.

Except on Friday, the day before THE DAY, Steve woke up with a splitting headache, his whole body hurting, nose full and lungs as if stuffed with cotton wool. He blamed the crazy weather, but it didn’t really matter where this sickness came from – he felt like shit.

He groaned and downright punched the alarm on his phone, startling you awake.

With bleary gaze, he registered you rolling over in his arms, squirming at him sleepily as he let his eyelids slip shut again.

“Steve, hun, are you okay?” you asked him softly, voice husky as he loved to hear it when you woke up, too adorable for him to keep his hands off you.

He sure as fuck wasn’t thinking about sweet and filthy morning loving now; he would have coughed out his lungs if he tried to move too much and some parts of him might fall off judging by how much everything hurt.

“Yeah,” he rasped, throat scratchy at the single word and as if from a distance, he heard a noise of sympathy, your palm instantly finding his forehead, gentle touch soothing against his burning skin.

“You’re absolutely not okay. Stevie, you’re burning up,” you whispered compassionately and Steve blinked his eyes open, the little light in the room causing him to snap them close again immediately. Ouch.

“Fuck my liiiiife,” he groaned, prolonging the last syllable, which proved to be a wrong thing to do, sending him into a couching fit due to his scratchy throat.

Your hands roamed his shoulders and back as he rolled over to his side from you, hoping to suck in some air to continue coughing.

“Oh Stevie, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you some medicine when I’m back from school, yeah? And I’ll make some soup,” you assured him kindly, dropping a kiss to his shoulder before your pleasant warmth disappeared, leaving him too cold and hot at the same time.

Seriously. FUCK HIS LIFE.

Grunting, he fell to his back, exhausted by one stupid coughing fit, whole body heavy; and he must have fallen asleep too, because the next thing he knew, soft lips were touching his forehead, tender fingers brushing messy strands of hair away. He stirred, forcing his eyes open to be greeted by a sight of that angelic face of yours, complete with a halo of light around you.

“I already called Bucky. He’ll sort out your classes today, alright? There’s a tea on your nightstand along with some last Tylenol we have.”

Steve squinted in the direction of the piece of furniture you mentioned and sure enough, there it was, everything you said it would.

What a pretty dutiful nurse you were. God, he loved you.

As he eyed you then, deep sense of longing settled in his swimming stomach, more so as he didn’t miss the gorgeous thermo leggings and long sweater hugging your figure, reaching your mid-thighs.

All Steve wanted was to pull you back to him so he had a human furnace in bed with him, the soothing smell of your shampoo to comfort him – even though he probably wouldn’t be able to smell it. But his hands would still be able to explore your delicious body, grope and hold it close to his and you could maybe ramble about everything and anything, lulling him to sleep.

But no, you were leaving to school, leaving him alone in the apartment.

Just him, himself and his fucking flu.

He eyed you wistfully, lips pursed at your concerned expression.

“When you’ll be back?”

The wrinkle between your brows smoothened, a smile playing in the corner of your mouth.

“I have class until eleven. I see what I can do. I’m gonna have to hit the pharmacy and make some shopping,” you explained patiently, casing Steve to groan. Too long. So so long… Your smile widened, another kiss landing on his temple this time. “But I’ll be back before you know it. Get some rest, Professor Rogers.”

Your teasing tone made him growl, the action effectively sending him into another coughing fit and through glassy eyes, he saw you disappear from the room with one last glance over your shoulder.

Steve closed his eyes and breathed in deeply – oh, the delicious air – and then buried himself in the covers, praying that a decent sleep would make him feel better.

It didn’t, not quite. What did make him feel much better was the Tylenol and the sirup you brought along.

The absolute best was when you were there for him to cuddle you to sleep in the evening; somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was being a giant baby and was being utterly ridiculous, but God help him, this was all he needed the whole day.

He sighed blissfully as he hugged your midsection while you were sitting propped on the back-rest, soft light from the nightlamp illuminating the pages of the book you were reading. You were warmth, the gentle kind and Steve felt you seeping into him, fingers of one hand raking through his hair; he felt himself getting high on your loving care and cough sirup.

“I love having you here,” he muttered into the fabric of your pyjama, feeling you shift in your position a little, probably as you looked at him.

“Yeah?” you asked, sounding as if you were smiling, maybe even laughing at him; but he couldn’t care less, already drifting off to sleep, just content to have you.

“You’re warm and nice… and the prettiest nurse. And I love you. You’re my everything.”

“Oh Stevie,” you cooed sweetly, kissing the crown of his head and he preened at the sensation, smiling lazily. “I love you too.”

His heart skipped a beat as he nuzzled into your flesh and heard you gently toss the book away, your other hand now caressing his cheek.

“Yeah? Will you always be here? I want you to always be with me,” he admitted sheepishly, drawing a soft giggle and earning a kiss on his forehead.

“God, you’re adorable like this…”

Steve grunted, discontent with your reaction. “Not an answer.”

“I’ll always be here if you want me to, Stevie,” you answered dutifully, causing warmth fill his chest even if your body was shaking with hushed laughter; he felt it, but didn’t care. For your words however, he did; phew, as if he ever wanted something else, as if you had the right to question that!

He really needed to propose soon… just not tomorrow. You’d probably say no if he asked you, blaming his request on the fever. Naively.

“I wanna,” he mumbled, trying to squeeze you tighter. “Mine. My pretty girl. My babygirl. Forever.”

“Forever is a long time,” you noted, smile once again lacing your voice, along with an emotion, oh so soft one, he didn’t have the capacity to identify anymore. “But that’s what it’ll be if that’s what you want.”

Finally satisfied and with determination in the back of his mind, Steve let your love bridge him over to the dreamland, distantly aware of your fingers still playing with his hair.

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Steve’s mother used to say his that flu lasted a week under a doctor’s care; and seven days without it. Of course, when he was younger with many health issues, it was more complicated than that, but he got the message.

Under your care, he felt considerably better after five days, only a mild case of a runny nose remaining. On a Thursday morning, he even found himself awake before you did, before your alarm went off.

Contemplating whether he should stay in bed with you or get shit done, he lazily scooped away a bit and propped himself on his elbow to feast his eyes on his pretty nurse.

Your hair was a messy halo around your head, your brows were lightly crooked as if you were having an unpleasant dream, your lips parted just a fraction, the softest snort escaping you.

Steve felt himself grin, a love-sick lift of the corners of his lips.

You were so freaking cute.

And seeing you, relaxed, but clearly catching up with sleep to beat your exhaustion to which he abundantly contributed, he knew he couldn’t stay in bed; in fact, he had to make you breakfast to bed, for all the troubles he put you through and for the attentive care you lavished him with.

Sure, when he was getting overly needy and whiny or cranky, you weren’t shy to call him out on his shit – which only made him love you more – but otherwise you were admirably patient.

As if he hadn’t already known that you were a keeper before that; this only solidified his conviction. If everything about you didn’t scream put a ring on it, then he wasn’t Steven Grant Rogers.

Hell, he had a half-mind to propose you just at that moment, all domestic atmosphere and sweet gesture like breakfast in bed, but he wasn’t certain it wouldn’t look like the past few days were what pushed him over the edge. That would only be a half-truth--- quarter-truth?

Shaking his head at his own dumb thoughts, he gathered the pancakes, yogurt, various pieces of fruit and obviously, a coffee, laying it on a tray he had nearly forgotten he owned and tiptoed to the bedroom, honestly surprised that you hadn’t woken up yet with him fumbling around.

He stopped dead in his tracks when you sighed and stirred, rolling over and stretching out a hand as if in a search for him, only to find the space empty. Something between a hum and a damn meowl fell from your lips and Steve had to remind himself what it was he wanted to do besides trying his best to find out how exactly he could make you repeat that sound.

So precious. Absolutely adorable. Beautiful. Tempting.

You clutched the empty sheets, but didn’t wake and Steve crossed the distance to the bed, carefully setting the tray on the nightstand as he went to sit on the bed next to your waist, a dopy smile on his face.

Laying a hand on your thigh, he squeezed a little, attempting to wake you gently; he knew you got jumpy when something tickled your face, so this was the safer option.

You stirred once again, but didn’t wake, your eyes only fluttering open when he called your name a few times, alternating with your favourite term of endearment.

You squinted at him, appearing confused and groaning. Steve grinned.

“Morning, sunshine,” he hummed, finally allowing himself to run the pads of his fingers from your forehead to your cheek and jaw, leaning into drop a kiss to your lips.

He froze, his brain on alert as he registered how hot your face felt.

The faint snoring. Squinting against light. Not waking up sooner than him. Your face pretty much burning to touch.

Oh no.

“Babygirl… are you feeling sick?” Steve whispered hesitantly, met with a bleary gaze and a pout.

“Wasn’t feeling great even yesterday evening…” you said, voice hoarse – whether from sleep or the flu Steve had managed to infect you with, he couldn’t tell.

But he certainly felt guilty, even if it was inevitable, really; with all you sweet care and constant proximity, it was only a matter of time. Not that it made him feel any better.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry-“

“Not your fault-“

“Kinda is-“

“Steve dammit!” you hissed, your eyes flying open fully and Steve knew what was coming; still, he grimaced as you coughed. “Shit. I hate flu.”

“Tell me about it. You think you can eat something?” he fussed, snapping into his nurse mode right away, ready for your roles to reverse.

You hummed and tried to sit, your gaze falling on the nightstand for the first time. Your expression, having been twisted in a grimace, softened instantly. As you turned to him, he suddenly felt sheepish. Was he acting like a love-sick fool?

“You made me breakfast to bed?” you cooed, snuggling into the covers before gesturing for him to help you sit up. “You’re the best.”

“I’ll be better if I make you some tea to go with it… and bring cough sirup… and stuff, yeah?”

You smiled like a loon – well, you tried, the result kinda faint, a testimony to your exhaustion – and Steve quickly rose to his feet.

“You’re the best.”

“Nope, that’s you. Eat your breakfast, babygirl.”

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Steve could tell you still didn’t feel exactly alright and the idea of eating wasn’t thrilling to you, but the pleaser you were, you tried your best for him to see that you appreciated his effort to make breakfast. When he brought you the tea, the medicine and water to down it, you were hallway through the pancakes, even though you seemed to force yourself into every bite.

“You don’t have to make yourself sicker just because you feel like you have to eat this, you know,” he hummed nonchalantly, causing you to grimace and take another two bites before sighing and pushing the tray away.

“It’s really yummy though… I think,” you stated, a wry smile playing in one corner of your lips. “Thank you.”

And you sounded so honestly grateful, clearly attempting for the smile to look real even with your eyes blazed and your features undeniably displaying tiredness, that Steve had to chuckle as he handed you the pills.

“Glad you liked it, sweetheart.”

You went to drop a careful kiss to his cheek when a coughing fit took you by surprise, starling him and resulting in you clutching both your chest and head, wide hurt eyes looking up at him as he smiled, tight-lipped and compassionate; he knew exactly how you felt.

And you were still kinda adorable, pouting a bit, looking at Steve as if he could save you from the evil flu monster.

“I hate flu… but I really like you. Thank you for taking care of me,” you said sincerely, emphasizing your point with an obviously unplanned sneeze.

Steve lips twitched, but so did his heart. His hands went to caress your hair, earning a pleased hum.

“Just returning the favour.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t think I was that nice.”

“You were,” he assured you, feeling need to add a little piece of important information, just to show how much he meant it. “Just made me fall in love with you all over again.”

“Sweet-talker. I bet that’s all gone now, seeing me about to go through a box of tissues a day,” you chuckled weakly, nearly sinking into the cushions.

Steve wasn’t sure what was it he was suddenly overcome with; how or in which exact moment it sneaked into his conscience, a crazy insane thought and the untameable feeling in his gut that nudged him to do it.

To do it right now. To tell you, truly and from the depth of his heart, how much you meant to him. How much he was sure you always would.

“No, it’s not. I want to take care of you,” he whispered, hesitantly taking a hold of your slightly clammy hands and gently squeezing. You reciprocated the action, even if weakly.

“I want to take care of you and I want you to take care of me. I want to have you by my side every day, in our home, in our bed,” he continued, for once not talking only about different ways of making you moan his name when mentioning a bed. “I want to kiss you stupid whenever I get the chance, I want to laugh with you when you’re happy and hold you when you feel like crap. I want us to fight the whole world if they tell us that our love is wrong, because I know there’s nothing more right than me loving you and you loving me.”

The words spilled from his lips without much thinking, just one following other, somehow making sense, he hoped.

The strange buzz of nerves in his ears was so loud that he barely registered you breathed out his name.

“Steve-“

His eyes never left your face, watching it crumble under the weight of his declaration, already glassy eyes turning wetter, breathing ragged almost as much as his was from the rapid fire of words. Your lips parted in beautiful awe, that beautiful awe he had seen before, whenever you seemed to be shocked by how deep his need for you ran.

There was no questioning what should come next. Only half-aware of doing so, Steve had already prepared the ground.

“Stay right here,” he blurted out, giving your hands another quick squeeze before straightening rapidly and nearly tripping over his feet as he rushed towards his desk, opening the third drawer. Your voice, laced with both confusion and overwhelming emotion, followed him.

“I- I’m not going anywhere. What’s-“

“Sh-shh,” Steve hissed distractedly and took a deep breath as his fingers finally met with the box, gripping it tightly and his palm covering it as he stalked back to the bed, heart hammering in his ribcage.

This was the right moment, right? It seemed ridiculous, but god, so so right.

“You’re lucid, right?” he asked just to make sure, wavering only for a bit; you might be sick, even have a headache maybe, but you certainly appeared lucid enough a moment ago. But maybe that would be the reason you’d say no?

Shit, he felt like teenager about to ask his first crush to sit with him at lunch.

“I—I think? I’m just hella confused…“ you stuttered, causing his already wild heart to skip a beat upon hearing the nerves in your voice.

Your eyes, wide with confusion and yet slightly narrow because light hurt, watched Steve carefully as he dropped to his knees by your bedside and he didn’t think he ever saw you looking more endearing.

Steve had never been more certain of the fact that he wanted you to be his wife; and yet, and maybe precisely because of that, a lump formed in his throat. He took a deep calming breath, bracing himself.

“I love you. I love your mind, your body, your soul and everything that’s you and I—I think you’re the most wonderful woman I have ever met and had the luck to fall for. So I…”

With another heartskip, loud pounding in his head and maybe a tiny bit of a shake to his hands, he rose to only one knee, not missing your expression turning into a picture perfect of shock when he held out the box he had been thinking about for too long.

“Oh my god, Steve-“

“Please let me do this,” he whispered, barely audible, mostly because while you seemed absolutely stunned, you didn’t look angry or horrified, so he sensed a chance.

“I’m running a fever, my nose is running too and I’m--- ew all over-“ you protested weakly, a tear actually running down your cheek, but then you chuckled, a hand flying up to cover your mouth and Steve felt his confidence rise.

“You’re not, and even if you were I wouldn’t care. You’re my everything and wish nothing more than to make you mine officially.” Unable to wait any longer under you attentive and entirely adoring gaze, he opened the box and said your full name, nearly choking on it under the overwhelming joy of the moment – because he already knew. He knew what you were gonna say; you had it written all over you face. “Will you marry me?”

Steve knew. He was so sure that he knew--- and yet. Yet. As the silence prolonged, lasting seconds, minutes even – hours, it must have been – Steve felt the nervous coil in his gut twist painfully.

He watched you with torturous anticipation as you were; semi-sat up on a bed, hurting, probably beginning to sweat through your pyjama and drinking chamomile tea to get rid of the bug you had caught from him, and here he was, proposing.

In sickness and health indeed; and in some absurd way, this all made perfect sense to him… well, it had, a minute ago.

You looked like a million thoughts were racing through your head, and Steve felt his heart sink to his stomach. What if you truly were thinking he was crazy-

“Yes,” you said at last and Steve released the breath he was holding, endlessly relieved, the heaviness weighting a ton finally falling from his shoulders. Oh Chirst, thank fuck—he really had been getting worried- “Yes, I-“

Relief blended into delight as he heard you speak the beautiful word again.

Yes. Yes, you wanted to be his wife.

Yes, you wanted to marry him!!

An incredulous chuckle spilled from his lips and he tossed the box on the bed, swiftly moving up and grabbing your face to kiss you stupid as he wanted and had said that he always would.

You made a startled noise, but you giggled too, grasping onto his shoulders and his nape and kissing back with all you got—and then you were pulling away, fighting for breath, because flu, duh, he needed to be careful with you, but-

You agreed to marry him!

Keeping you as close as possible while allowing you to breathe, his eyes happily roamed your face, so pretty and adorable and the knowledge of him being able waking up next to that face for the rest of his life sent his heart into frenzy, sparkles of pure joy filling his chest.

“I love you! Thank you, babygirl,” he exclaimed, kissing you once more, a short but intense encounter of lips that caused you to giggle again—but he didn’t give a shit if he was being ridiculous. Your eyes, even if tired, seemed to glow now, happy twinkles dancing in your irises, telling him you were just as excited and delighted as he was. “Thank you-“

“You’re so crazy-“ you mumbled, dropping a kiss to his shoulder as you still shook with laughter and Steve simply climbed on the bed fully, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

He could sing at how you fit into his arms.

“I am. For you.”

“I can’t believe you proposed to me while I’m lying sick on a bed,” you mumbled over his shoulder, sounding as if you were complaining a little.

“In sickness and health?” he offered nervously, holding you tighter just in case you were going to back out now. Which was not an option.

He had to physically put the ring on your finger. Right now. Then you wouldn’t be able to change your mind.

In the back of his brain, an annoying voice told him that this was not how it worked, that there was no guarantee. But Steve shushed that voice and withdrew only enough to reach for the box and with a grin so wide he could feel his cheeks hurt from the strain, he took a hold of your left hand, slipping the ring on.

He didn’t miss the way your breath caught and he didn’t think the flu was to blame for that; the ring looked lovely on your hand. And Steve was a smidge proud of how he managed to make it fit perfectly.

“Steve… the ring-”

“You don’t like it?” he worried in an instant as he detected a new emotion in your voice.

You went to lightly slap his shoulder, rolling your eyes – an action you apparently regretted by the silent groan that followed; just another reminded of your sickness.

“Shush, you dummy. It’s--- breath-taking, but-“ you bit down on your lower lip, clearly hesitant to speak your mind and Steve didn’t find it at all comforting that you said you did like then ring. Not with the but. You sounded almost guilty, which was… strange. “But must have been so expensive and we still haven’t really-“

Oh. Oh.

Steve felt his lips spread back into a smile.

His sweet, sweet girl, responsible and perfect. He hated the reminder of your father’s behaviour, of the fact that you were ashamed on his behalf and felt guilty.

Steve didn’t want that.

“If I tell you it wasn’t, will you be mad?” he offered, watching carefully for your reaction, and your thoughtful expression turned into a confused one.

“Wasn’t?“

“I just had it cleaned and re-sized.”

You blinked, eyelids heavy, and tilted your head in bewilderment—melting into a brief panic and Steve realized what must have crossed your mind.

His stomach clenched in horror at you even considering it. You might have thought it was meant for another woman from his life.

Which it was, but not the way you thought!

“It was my ma’s!” he blurted out in panic, causing you to flinch a bit in fright of his suddenly louder voice. Steve shook his head – he was so messing this whole proposal thing up – clearing his throat, he observed your face, now full of emotion he couldn’t read. “…is that okay?”

There were tears prickling in your eyes, no words leaving your mouth as he had managed to render you speechless and he could punch himself for making you feel whatever you were feeling.

He had to fix this, fast.

“We can absolutely pick up something else if you don’t like the idea!” he was quick to offer, his heart speeding up when you still didn’t say a word. But you didn’t seem… that mad. What was happening in your head though, that was a mystery to him. “It’s just… she always told me that it was the second most precious thing she had left after dad, right after me, and that she wants me to give it to-- please don’t cry.”

Yes, he made the tears spill. There were a few rolling down your cheeks and Steve… he was starting to recognize the emotions playing in your expression, but he couldn’t entirely put his finger on it.

Honestly, he couldn’t tell whether you were so touched by the whole inherited ring gesture or if you were hating him with your very being for ruining some picture-perfect proposal you had been dreaming about since you were five; angry and disappointed that he didn’t even have the decency to buy you your own ring.

Probably a bit of both.

“Steve, you romantic idiot, come here,” you choked out, by a miracle not coughing for once and before he could even react and let the relief sink in, you grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled hard.

You had a surprisingly a lot of strength for someone coming down with a flu – actually, being down with a flu.

He landed on you, barely catching himself before he could crush you, a surprised laugh spilling from his lips, delight once again lighting up his world.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered, pecking his lips, fingers sinking to his hair and that moment, Steve was in heaven. “So much.”

He grinned wide, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest as tight as he could, feeling both his own heartbeat and yours, tumbling happily and together.

“And I love you… future Mrs. Rogers.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Tied to you (next in timeline)

S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

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Not gonna lie. Thought of posting this in four parts of maybe at least two (3 and +1), but then I thought, screw it, let’s post 7,7k words at once. I hope you made it through all of them.

What’s coming next? I have no idea... maybe it’s who’s ‘coming’ next 👀

Thank you for reading!

214 notes · View notes

deja-you · 3 years

Text

domestic tranquility

m. de lafayette x reader

summary: a collection of intimate scenes from the L/n Administration, or the ‘what if’ ending to foreign affairs.

word count: 4.3k

author’s note: i hope this makes up for the ending of foreign affairs :) also a special thank you to @astralaffairs because she is my inspiration and she took the time to help edit this and i just love her in general

masterlist | foreign affairs

“Lafayette, will you marry me?”

The other line was silent, and you almost thought he had hung up on you.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I must’ve heard you wrong. I could have sworn you just asked me to marry you.”

“I did.”

You could hear him suck in a deep breath. “Chèrie, I don’t understand.”

“Lafayette, I know this is a lot to ask. I’m going to run for president. I’m the perfect candidate, I really am. I’m what America needs right now.”

“Of course you are. Where do I come into this?”

“My staff has run some numbers. I do a lot better in the polls if I’m in a committed relationship. But the problem is, I’m not in a committed relationship.”

“You want to lie to the press and tell them we’re married?”

“I don’t want to lie to them. I’m asking you to marry me. It wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Huh.”

“You can say no. I know this is a lot to ask. It’s crazy, reall—”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Let’s get married.”

Your jaw hung open. “Just like that, you’re on board?”

“You should be president, chèrie. I want to help you any way I can.”

“Are you sure about this? This isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

“Believe me, I’m taking this very seriously. I’m going to get on the next plane to New York. We’ll talk about this in person.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but you found yourself at a loss for words. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” he repeated. “Let’s get married.”

You were in Iowa.

For some reason you had to come to godforsaken Iowa to become president. You didn’t think about how stupid corn was. You couldn’t think about it, just in case it somehow slipped out and you then alienated all the voters in Iowa. But you really didn’t care.

What you did care about was the sight of your French husband (it still felt strange to call him that) contentedly eating away at a cob of corn. A strange contrast to the sight of him smoking cigarettes and drinking a diabolo menthe at a Parisian café, but he looked just at home at the Iowa State Fair as he did in France.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he gestured for you to join him. Pasting on a smile, you made your way over to him and a series of photographers followed after you.

“Chèrie, have you tried this? It is amazing. This is the best corn I have ever had,” he said, waving around the corn on the cob animatedly while he spoke. The photographers were eating it up, and the corn on the cob vendor was smiling proudly.

You were absolutely bewildered by just how magnetizing he was. People loved him just for eating corn. You couldn’t even blame them, because you knew just how infectious his smile was when he was genuinely happy.

This marked your first official outing as a couple on the campaign trail since you had married Lafayette. If you were honest, you had been nervous about the whole ordeal, but the second Lafayette sent you that easygoing look, you relaxed.

When you were close enough, his hand found yours and he was quick to intertwine your fingers together. This was where the real and unreal collided. His genuine smile and unharnessed affection met your faltering remembrance that this wasn’t the loving marriage it looked like. It was serving its purpose at this exact moment.

You counted each time the camera flashed to take a picture of you and Lafayette walking hand in hand. You could see the headlines on tomorrow’s papers, and you could see Lafayette’s grinning face. A political marriage certainly wasn’t traditional or morally acceptable, but there were real issues that needed to be tackled. You had plans to reform the health care system and the economy. If Lafayette helped you achieve a platform where you could really make a difference, who cared if you bent a few social constructs?

Besides, it gave you the opportunity to reconnect with an old… friend.

“You really like corn?” You asked him quietly.

Lafayette sent a disarming smile to the photographers, and leaned in very closer to whisper in your ear, “I can’t stand corn. Get me out of Iowa.”

You didn’t hide your laugh, and the photographers quickly shot a few more photos of the two of you being a cute couple. Lafayette really didn’t like the corn? You had been so convinced his smile was real. You were beginning to think you couldn’t tell the difference between what was fake and what was real.

There was some kind of external force that wanted you and Lafayette to end up together.

You were sure of this, because you had expelled him from your life multiple times by now. The memory of him leaving you on the sidewalk in D.C. felt like it was just yesterday, but now you were back in his arms. And it felt so natural.

So yes, there was something pulling the two of you together. You didn’t want to call it fate. You didn’t really believe in that. It had to be something stronger. There was something tugging at your heart telling you it was choice, but you didn’t want to believe that, either. Your fingers gripped his suit a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself.

This was good. This was nice, you thought as you swayed back and forth. There were thousands of eyes trained on you, and millions watching you from home on their TVs. The thought that so many people were watching you right now was daunting, but it was nothing that you weren’t used to at this point. You were the Leader of the Free World. The President of the United States.

You could hear a few cameras click, and you flashed a disarming smile in their direction. A well-known singer was crooning out the words to a slow, melodic version of Stand by Me. Your husband squeezed your hip lightly, causing you to look up at him while he absently swayed with you.

He grinned when you met his gaze and softly whispered, “relax a little. This is your moment. Enjoy it. You’ve earned it.”

Your stiff smile melted into a genuine one and you gave him a small nod. He was right, you did deserve this. The road to the White House had been one paved with blood, sweat, and tears, and you still hadn’t stepped foot in the building yet. A few more balls, and then you could finally move into your new home for the next four to eight years. But you had earned it.

The last year and a half had been the craziest 18 months of your life, and you knew it wasn’t about to get easier anytime soon. But this was good. This was nice. You didn’t have to worry about any political opponents or Supreme Court appointments right now. All you had to do was dance leisurely with your attractive husband.

“What are your thoughts on my seeking out a second term?” you asked quietly on the ride back to the White House.

There were a few more balls that you and Lafayette had attended, staying only long enough to share a dance or two with the press before heading to the next event. It had been a non-stop day; the inaugural address in the morning and the inaugural balls in the evening, and everything in between had successfully worn you thin. Lafayette had been at your side all day, and you could tell that he was exhausted as well.

“Ma chèrie, you were just sworn in. How can you already be thinking about re-election?” Lafayette yawned, slumping back against the seat with his bowtie undone and hanging lazily around his neck.

You laughed softly and shook your head from side to side. “It’s you I’m concerned about.”

“Hm?”

You shifted in your seat to look him in the eye. “You agreed to marry me so I could win the Presidency. I told you that we would only have to stay married while I was in the White House. So what are your thoughts on eight years instead of four?”

“Are you kidding me, Y/n?” Lafayette asked incredulously.

You pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“You’re running for a second term. And I’m going to be by your side through it all. That is, if you still want to be President after dealing with Congress for four years.”

This solicited a laugh from you. He paused before he continued. The pause was the space between you and him, between the Earth and the Sun and everything in between. A hesitancy for the desperation of being wanted and the interval for not knowing if that was what he wanted.

“And of course, if you still want me by your side in four years.”

You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him. “Of course I’ll still want you by my side. We made a promise. For better or for worse.”

Lafayette took your hand in his and raised it to his lips. “For better or for worse.”

Somehow you found the time to sit down and watch a movie in the White House movie theater.

Lafayette chooses some sort of action movie, you can’t even remember the title of the film and you decide that it’s not important.

You’ve invited some close friends to join you for the night. The Hamiltons (of course), your chief of staff, Nathan Hale, and his partner, and a few other White House senior staffers. All people you would trust with your life and your secrets.

You know Alex’s suspected for a while that you and Lafayette got married for political reasons. He’s a real politician, so he’s one of the few who have actually considered that marriage could be an ambitious political move. A heartless speculation, yes, but he isn’t exactly wrong. You consider that he’s mentioned the idea to Eliza, but you’ve given them no confirmation on the subject.

Nathan knows you better than you know yourself after working for you for all these years. And he knows about your history with Lafayette. He may have been the one to plant the idea in your head of calling Lafayette up before you ran for office, but you’ve never officially explained to him the truth about your relationship. You don’t need to.

The point is, most people in this room know both you and Lafayette completely. And you trust everyone in this room completely. Even if they did find out the truth, it wouldn’t matter. You know your secret would be safe. Knowing all this, you begin to wonder who you’re trying to convince that your marriage is real.

It has to be someone. You’re not throwing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close for your own benefit. Lafayette isn’t getting you a bag of popcorn and placing a kiss to your cheek for any other reason than because he really wants to sell this marriage.

You have to be putting on this performance for someone, because if not, that would mean you’re shooting Lafayette loving looks for no other reason except for the fact that you want to. And that can’t be right. Quid est veritas?

You’re given relief from the thoughts turning around and around and around in your head when the lights turn down low. You take your seat beside Lafayette (something in you tells you that your place has always been beside him). The movie starts playing and you relax for the first time since before you were sworn in as president (was that nearly a year ago?).

You don’t know if it’s because there’s something therapeutic about watching a fictional President having to deal with fictional problems, or if it’s relaxing because Lafayette has pulled you to his side and his hand absently runs through your hair. You decide it’s both.

“Are you tired?” Lafayette whispers in your ear quietly about halfway through the movie.

You are tired, but you insist on whispering back a no. He doesn’t believe you. Lafayette turns his head and presses his forehead against yours. The movie is forgotten in the background, you have his complete attention.

“Close your eyes,” he says softly. “Get some rest. I’ve got you.”

You want to kiss him. You’re so close to him now, all you would have to do is tilt your head just slightly to the right. If you kiss him now, you can say you were just trying to sell the relationship. To the maybe five people in the (dark) room who weren’t even paying attention to you, and even if they were none of them were about to report to the press that they thought your marriage was a sham. It’s not a good excuse, but you’re still considering it.

You don’t consider it any further; you don’t get to. A bit of light comes flooding into the movie theater, and you hear some hushed voices at the entrance.

“Madam President?”

Regretfully, you untangle your limbs from Lafayette’s and sit up. A White House staffer gives you an apologetic look and explains that there’s been a situation. You don’t look back at Lafayette because you know you’d be met with a look of disappointment. Instead, you make a light joke to the audience about never getting a break and they all laugh politely and urge you to go take care of the matter at hand.

You recall the 25th amendment while you’re leaving the theater, and you try to recall what the succession of the presidency really means. What is the Vice President doing tonight? You’re too busy thinking about what it would feel like to have your husband’s arms wrapped around you once more to think about whatever situation had arisen, did that make you unfit for office? Could someone else just take over for one night so you could spend the evening with Lafayette?

“You stayed up?”

You didn’t know what time it was – didn’t need to – but it was late. You had spent the entire day flying back from meetings in Germany, and then more meetings on the plane. You were exhausted, your staff was exhausted, so by the time you got back to the residency you were certain that you were the only one on the planet who was still awake.

“Didn’t want you to be alone.” Lafayette is still awake.

He looks tired, and you know he’s beyond tired. No doubt his schedule has been filled all day, and the both of you have to be up – four hours? That’s hardly enough sleep to function properly. And yet Lafayette has sacrificed his sleep because he didn’t want you to be alone.

Not that you would have been alone. You had planned on entering the residency quietly and sliding into bed beside him after you changed into sweats. You would let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep, and you’d hardly feel alone. But you’d be lying if you said his consciousness wasn’t a comforting presence to you.

“How was Germany?” He yawns.

You’re in a hurry to change out of your suit because the soft comforter of the bed is calling your name. You hardly process his words, murmuring some practiced, diplomatic response. He says he wishes he could’ve come with you, and you tell him you understand why he couldn’t this time. Next time, you say.

“You shouldn’t have stayed up for me,” you tell him once you’re comfortably situated in your favorite pair of sweats.

“For you? I was waiting up for the Vice President. Jay and I had a little rendez-vous planned for tonight, you just got back early.” His grin is tired, but there’s still a playful twinkle in his eye.

You sit beside him on the bed, giving him a little shove and rolling your eyes. “If you had said Secretary Hamilton, I might’ve believed you.”

He leans on you slightly, his head resting on top of yours. “Secretary Hamilton?”

“Mmhmm,” you say quietly. “The two of you have far too much chemistry.”

“Ma chèrie.” He lifts his head off yours just enough to turn to face you, and two of his fingers move your head so you’re facing each other. There’s only one bedside lamp turned on right now, and he’s taking this moment to memorize the lines of your face and the exact shade of your eyes. “You know you’re the only one for me.”

You realize you don’t love him in the way you used to. Not in a bad way, you haven’t stopped loving him. It’s just different this time. It’s honest and real, which is a bit ironic, because the foundations of your marriage were anything but truthful.

You’re polite, so your smile often is fake. He’s real. Right in front of you, right beside you. Every night. There’s something about his mercy and selflessness that you are in love with. He’s teaching you what it really means to be human. Even if you didn’t love him for that, you are so covered in him you wouldn’t know what else to be.

Whatever bravery you had stored up for debating political adversaries or promoting your most radical ideas suddenly possessed you, and you felt yourself leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. In the privacy of your shared residency. With no one around to see.

It’s almost like something breaks in him, if just for a moment. Maybe it’s the sleeplessness that’s slowing eroding away at his brain. Maybe he’s like you, and he’s also been wanting this for longer than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t hesitate, he just melts into you.

Your head feels foggy, you can’t really think, all you know is that this feels good. It’s the kind of intoxicating feeling that reminds you of the first time you kissed him, but you remind yourself that nothing is like the first time. You don’t love him in the way you used to. It’s different. Better.

“Don’t run for re-election.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks. Well, usually he would, but right now he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are memorizing the stitches on your coat, refusing to look at your eyes or your lips or your hands. You recognized the emotions swirling from his heart up to his lips. Shame.

Lafayette had never been anything but supportive when it came to your political career, so hearing him ask you not to run for re-election was a shocker. He loves supporting you. You know it’s out of a place of deep regret and desperation that Lafayette would ever even broach the subject. But he’s desperate now. You can tell.

You take his face in your hands – reaching out for anything good. You’d like to take the moment to just be here with him, but you’ve never been given enough time for that. It hurts him to look at you, but eventually he does.

“What?” You ask him softly. You know you heard him correctly, but you feel the need to prompt him into an explanation.

“I know it’s not my decision. And if you decide that you are going to run for re-election, we’ll put the matter to rest. We can pretend this conversation never happened,” he says sincerely. Lafayette takes a deep breath as if the next part will be difficult for him to articulate. You know that is. “Don’t run for re-election.”

He’s firmer in his request this time. Yes, the shame is still there, but it’s an underlying tone beneath his pure tenderness.

Lafayette’s never asked much from you. When you asked him to marry you, he hardly asked any questions. You know he would do whatever it is you asked of him at any time, so when he asks you not to run for re-election, you already know your answer without him having to explain himself. If this is what he wants, you’ll do it for him.

But you are still the president of the United States. You have a responsibility to your party, the government, and Americans as a whole. After accomplishing all you have in the last four years, it won’t be easy to walk away from the presidency without a reason. No, you don’t deserve a reason from Lafayette – you don’t even need one, if you are being honest – but you can at least pretend to be hesitant when it comes to leaving the Nation’s highest office.

“Why don’t you want me running for re-election?” you ask.

“Because I love you.” He says it like it’s the most simple and straightforward answer he can think of.

You can’t help but smile. “And I love you. But what does that have to do with me not running for re-election?”

“I know you love me. But there’s some part of me that will always think – as long as we’re in the public eye – that you only love me for appearances. That this is only love for the cameras—”

“Laf, it’s not. I promise I love you.”

“I know you do. But I’m always going to wonder. If it’s fake. If it just feels like love because of the atmosphere. For the past four years I’ve had to live with the gnawing fear that you wouldn’t love me outside of the White House. It would kill me if I had to live like this for another four years.”

Your voice is softer when you speak again. “You once told me you’d stay with me if I wanted to run for re-election. You said for better or for worse.”

“I know. That was years ago. That was when I thought you would only stay married to me while we were in the White House. That was when I thought a fake marriage would be enough for me.”

“Laf—”

“Ma chèrie, I want a life with you. One that isn’t just for show. I want to love you because I love you, not because it will help with your polling numbers.” There’s a deliberate determination between his words. He’s nervous. “I love you so much, and I can’t stand the idea of anyone having reason to think it’s anything less than love.”

The Oval Office is golden.

Well, technically, it’s more of a beige with a vibrant blue carpet in the middle of the room displaying the presidential seal. But in the low light of the December afternoon, the room is filled with a golden glow.

You’ve always known you were going to make history, but to actually be history is something altogether new for you. In another month, the drapes in the Oval Office and the furniture would all be replaced with whatever furniture the next president saw fit. It would be too easy for the white house staff to clean out the White House of any trace of you, but maybe if you were lucky you’d be mentioned in a footnote in a textbook somewhere.

It’s not like you are one to make rash choices. The decision of stepping down from office came after long and meticulous thought on the subject. You are more certain that you made the right decision more and more each day, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have your doubts every now and then.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Lafayette knows you better than you know yourself. He can tell by the blank look on your face while you read through a thick file that no, he’s not interrupting anything.

“It’s strange that I can say no,” you sigh softly. “I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t busy. But apparently people don’t care about a lame duck when there’s a shiny new President-Elect.”

He crosses the room and leans against the desk. Lafayette gently tugs your hand up to his lips and presses a delicate kiss against your knuckles. It’s gentle and timid, as if everything about this relationship depends on this small act of affection. You’ve noticed that Lafayette has been more reserved lately, almost like he feels guilty for asking such a heavy favor of you.

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite president?” It’s hardly a question and mostly an answer.

You smile, and he can’t help but think about how beautiful you are. He thinks you get more beautiful every day, although he can’t figure out how that’s possible.

“Your favorite? You like me better than President Washington?”

Lafayette hums softly and pulls you out of your seat, lifting you up onto the desk. He stands between your legs, hands resting gently on your hips. His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and finally says, “you’re easier on the eyes.”

You laugh – Lafayette swears it’s lyrical – and press a kiss to his cheek. “That’s good to hear. How has the house hunting been going?”

His eyes visibly brighten. “I think I’ve found the place.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm. It’s this piece of property in upstate New York. The drive to the city isn’t so far, and the estate. I just know you’re going to love it.”

You could sense the excitement emanating off of him. “Am I?”

Lafayette nods. “Chèrie, you have to see this place. It has a beautiful kitchen for me to cook in. A balcony – I know you love balconies. A few acres so one day our kids—”

“Our kids?”

His eyes widen as he quickly realizes his mistake. “I—well… yeah? I know we haven’t talked about this. I always pictured us with kids, but if that’s not what you want, I can respect that. We don’t need to have kids, I promise that you are already more than enough for me.”

You bring a hand to cup his face, your thumb softly moving across his cheek as you just hold him. “Lafayette, I want a family with you. I want a future with you. I want forever with you. I love you.”

He brings your lips to his, and for the first time, you’re not worried about it being the last time.

I’m just going to add foreign affairs taglist here :)

@fanfic-addict-98 @wordvomit-foryourmind @farihafangirls @actuallyanita @cubedtriangle @katierpblogg @ballerinafairyprincess @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @lexylovesfandoms @dovesgrangers @a-hopeless-fan @biafbunny @hermionie-is-my-queen @zeelmol @oi-itsemily @itsjube @someinsanefangirl @awkward-walking-potato @lu123sworld @exorcisms-with-elmo @ohsoverykeri-blog @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @poetnstuff @nyxie75 @roxanne2020 @luckyfriesss

#marquis de Lafayette #lafayette #lafayette fic #lafayette imagine #lafayette x reader #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfic #foreign affairs sequel #foreign affairs #domestic tranquility #hamilton fanfiction #president au #modern au #Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs fanfic #daveed diggs x reader #lafayette fanfic #lafayette fanfiction

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outerbankslut · 4 years

Text

Childhood Friends... Pope Heyward

Summary • You have been in love with Pope Heyward since you first met him when you were younger. But there’s one or two problems. Or so you think. He doesn’t like you. Does he?

Warnings • Swearing. Underage drinking.

Word Count • 3.3k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

AT EIGHT YEARS old you first met Pope Heyward. The concept of Outer Banks at such a young age seemed like a dream for you. Never ending beaches. Hot weather practically all the time. Surfing and swimming at your beck and call. It was a stark change from living in Minnesota.

The house you moved into was a small two story house next to one almost identical. And the day you had moved in a boy came knocking at the door. He seemed around your age and held a pie dish in his hands seemingly quite nervous. Your parents were upstairs unpacking so you opened the door hoping maybe you could make a friend.

"My mum made me bring this pie for you since we’re neighbours, here you go." He kept his eyes trained on the ground then handing you the pie and scurrying back home before you could even take a breath. Your face dropped as he ran off but you felt determined to make him a friend, after all you were neighbours so how hard could it be since you'd see him almost all the time.

A few days later your mum wanted to buy some groceries rather than living off of takeaway food for any longer and opted for going to Heywards shop. Which ended up being your neighbours store.

You wandered through the store while your mum chatted with Heyward and eventually stumbled upon the boy who ran away sitting on the floor and reading a comic.

"Spider-Man's really cool." You had said sitting down next to him as his head snapping to the side suddenly looking from his marvel comic to you. It was a surprise he didn't get whiplash.

"Really? I think so too." The boy gushed about the hero while you sat listening. Then your mum called you from the front of the store and you pouted, sad you could hang out with your new friend any longer.

Then the next thing you knew the eight year old boy was dragging you both to your feet and taking you to the candy area. He handed you a chocolate bar with a cheeky grin. "Don't tell my dad."

You nodded and giggled before rushing off to your mum and looking back at your new friend happily. Your parents invited the Heywards around for weekly dinners and alternated between houses becoming good family friends which only strengthened you and Popes friendship.

After that began it was an almost daily thing for you to hang out. You and Pope were attached by the hip. You went on your bikes together. Even took kids surfing lessons together. Though Pope practically already knew how to surf since he was raised on the water.

As you grew older you would do your homework together with the Heyward boy often helping you with the subjects you struggled in while you helped him with the things he struggled with.

Eventually you offered to help with the shop to pass time and hang out with your friend and at this point the Heywards were like family to you.

When you were both ten years old Pope had the idea to make a tree house. And though not the best considering it ended up just a rickety platform balancing on branches with ladders either side of it, it still worked. The tree overhung both houses back gardens with its trunk positioned just on the edge of your garden.

You met two more goofs that year. JJ and John B. The two Js was what you called them at first. You became fast friends with their long hanging bond similar to yours with pope. You fit like a lock and a key together. However you never showed the Pogues the treehouse, it was just you and Popes little space.

You spent a lot of time up there just staring up at the stars of reading. Pope liked to talk about all his hopes and dreams while you were there and you listened.

"Y/N, do you think I’ll be able to get into a good college. Like for forensic pathology." He asked as you laid on the 'treehouse' could you even call it that.

"Pope you are the smartest person I know. So it's unlikely that you won't get into anywhere you want."

"I know it's just—I don't think my dad can afford it so I'll need to get a scholarship. There'll be be hundreds of people competing for it. I'm just a drop in the ocean to them." He ranted and you could hear the stress in his voice. This wasn't something someone as smart and determined as Pope should have to stress about was all you thought. He deserved so much while people who deserved so much less got fed with a silver spoon up in figure eight.

"They'd be dumb not to let you in. I don’t see how you wouldn’t. I have faith in you but I will also do whatever it takes to get you in. I'll pay for your tuition myself if I have to. Or I'll find some dirt on the dean and—"

"I'd rather not have my acceptance be a product of your blackmailing ways Y/N but thankyou and I'm not letting you pay for my tuition." He laughed. It was the melodic sound that rung in your ears that made you smile and turn your head away from the stars and towards him. The small lights you had hanging from the tree branches were bouncing off of his beautiful chestnut skin. His eyes were a shade of dark honey brown that simmered in the light. He was amazing in every single way.

Your fourteen year old self was starting to realise what you had been oblivious to the whole time. You would do anything for Pope. He was your ride or die. And you hoped you were his.

However when Kiara came in was when things went weird between you and Pope. She waltzed in in all her kook glory looking like a goddess. So of course you couldn't blame the boys when suddenly all their attention was on her and her beautiful brown wavy hair or golden cocoa skin that glimmered in the sunlight. You couldn't figure out whether she was just born lucky with amazing genetics or whether she was a vampire like from Twilight. Either way, Pope Heyward fell and he fell hard that year. At work he always spoke about her and it was slowly killing you inside. Every time he mentioned it you swore you heard your heart break and crack into more pieces.

You wished you could tell him. But you would be putting your friendship on the line. It would be selfish to tell him when he clearly wasn’t interested.

Instead of moping over an unattainable crush you attempted to move on. And to everyone’s surprise started flirting back with JJ. He was always shooting his shot like he did with Kie and tourons at keggers but normally you never flirted back. You thought somehow within your skewed logic it would work and you would be over Pope. Like the saying fake it till you make it. But it just bought your thoughts back to how it wasn’t Pope.

The Heyward boy started to pay more attention to it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach everytime he saw you laughing at JJs jokes and not his or just talking to each other. He stared every time you flipped your long glossy hair over your shoulder and looked flawless or would saunter off back into the chateau for a drink.

His interest turned from anyone to you within a second of a word coming from you pink lips. But you had convinced yourself he wasn't interested and you were oblivious to his newfound feelings. And so he stayed blind as he had been before to yours.

"HEY WHAT’RE YOU doing over here, lil red." JJs nickname had originated from the fact that red was your favourite colour. You had even dressed up as little red riding hood one year for Halloween which sparked the full nickname. It was sweet but in no way anything more than a friendly nickname. Although Pope begged to differ. You sat leaning against the wooden poll on the wooden floor of the dock. Your arms wrapped around your legs pulling them close to your chest giving you a sense of comfort as you stared at the sunset across the marsh.

You turned to the blond sending him a small smile before turning back to the sinking blends of fluorescent pink and oranges blurring into one beautiful mess in the sky. "Watching the sunset."

"Mind if I watch too?" He asked settling down beside you and resting his arms on his knees. You nodded. It turned away from the sky.

You heard the laugh of Pope from behind you and turned this time you turned away to look seeing Pope laughing with Kie that just sparked jealousy in your stomach. He looked so happy with her.

"So what's the deal with that?" JJ asked from beside you and you turned to him confusion splattering on your features which were orange from the light hitting of the setting sun.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the long glances, more like stares really and when you tell a joke you always look to Pope first. You look at him like he's the best thing in the world. Not to mention you randomly starting to flirt with me. I'm a professional ladies man. I notice these things. You’re not interested in me, it’s Pope." He blurted out and you sat rubbing a hand over your face with a sigh.

"I don’t do any of that." JJ have you a look which you shrugged at. “Look I—I did, but I don’t anymore.”

“You sure about that?” JJ kept his stare on you as you shuffled uncomfortably before sighing.

“I just wish he could just like me back, but he never will he’ll always like Kie and I don’t wanna be jealous of them cause then I’ll be a terrible friend but... I can’t help it.”

“Lil red, I know you might not believe me but I think Pope does like you. A lot. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just some friendly look.” He places his hand on your shoulder rubbing it softly and you send him a tight lipped smile.

“Maybe he does, I doubt it though. And people say girls are complicated. You boys are just as complicated.” You teased bumping his shoulder as he let go of yours. “But anyway we’re forgetting about the most important rule ever. No pogue on pogue macking.”

JJ snorted shaking his head. “Don’t bring up that bullshit rule. I know that if anyone of you showed interest in me it would be out of the window.”

“I’m not particularly a rule breaker unlike you.”

“Rules are made to broken but you’re just boring Lil Red.” You gasped and turned to your friend.

“No I am not. Take it back.” You glared at him jokingly.

“What’re you gonna do?”

You raised your eyebrows and then pushed the boy off the dock thinking you’d suceeded for a slip second until he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in too.

Pope watched the two of you laughing and talking for a while without you realising and then he saw you both fall in the water together laughing and looking like you belonged together. He shook his head slightly as he looked back to Kie who stared with worried eyes.

“You okay Pope?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just thinking.” Kie nodded going back to talking to John B until a shout erupts and they both turned to see JJ and you in the water. Pope was already looking.

“Lil red what the fuck?” He laughed shaking off his hair while you rung your own out still looking amazing to Pope.

“You said I was boring.” You shrugged chuckling and then screeching as you were pushed back under the water.

“I’m honestly surprised they’re not together yet.” Kie laughed looking at the two other boys beside her.

“You think they like each other?” Pope asked worry pinched in his eyebrows. It was one thing for him to think it but for Kie to confirm his thoughts made his stomach churn.

“Well yeah, I mean look at them.”

Pope was looking at them. And he saw it clear as day. You and him were never going to happen.

You breathed heavily as you and JJ walked up the steps to the docks. “Hey I know what we can do to help get your mind off of Pope for a night.”

“What?”

“A kegger.”

THE PARTY HAD started two hours ago and was roaring with teens, kooks and Pogues alike hung together for one night filled with truce, beer and weed.

He had left you a few minutes before to pursue a girl of course while you sat around a bonfire staring at the embers that floated into the midnight sky. But you were still thinking about him. He was stuck in your thoughts like superglue. You'd hoped that maybe alcohol would help loosen you up and get you out of your head but being alone and drunk made it worse.

Pope stood by Kie as you sat at the fire by yourself. Now was his chance to tell you and maybe you would like him back but if you didn't then maybe it would be less embarrassing since you were drunk. However he was not drunk since he abstained from the beer despite the multitudes of parties they had. He was the designated driver type.

"I'm gonna go over to Y/N." Kiara nodded before she continued talking to a random boy that sat next to her.

He walked across the sand catching your attention as you snapped your head up to see him heading your way.

"Hey Pope."

You were surprised he left Kie.

"You looked a little lonely so I'm giving you company."

"Oh Thankyou. My saviour." You said jokingly. Taking a swig of beer you examined the boys face. It twitched with nerves as he sat next to you and fiddled with his fingers.

He looked up at you with a small smile. “Y/N, I—”

“God, girls around here really have a good left hook.” JJ groaned holding his face sitting down next to you on the log interrupting Pope who he hadn’t noticed.

Then JJ looked up to see Pope sitting there awkwardly and you almost laughing at the fact that he got punched by a girl which never happened before. “Oh shit sorry I didn’t realise...”

“Realise what?” You asked shaking your head cluelessly before you dragged yourself up. “I need another drink.”

JJ tried to stop you but before he knew it you were at the keg with him following after.

“Uh, Lil red, I think Pope might’ve been about to tell you he liked you.”

“Wait, what? Really?” You almost dropped your beer as your hands went slack in shock but you quickly gripped it tight swallowing some. Pope stared into as you had walked away from him with JJ following. Of course he was going after you because like Kie said, they liked each other. He wanted to see if he could forget, so he did something he would probably regret.

“I’m pretty sure I mean he looked like he was going to. I really need to talk to him...” The blond trailed off as he stared at something behind him.

“What is it?” You were about to turn around until JJ held your shoulders in place until your shoved them off and saw what you never wanted to see.

Pope was kissing a girl. Not Kie though. It was just a random girl who he was kissing. Your eyes burned with tears as you turned to JJ scoffing.

“Yeah he definitely likes me doesn’t he.” You choked back a sob shoving the beer into JJs hand and running off into the trees.

Pope has pulled away just in time to see it and instant regret filled his stomach.

“Pope, buddy, what did you do?” JJ asked softly as Pope looked at his walking away from the random girl who looked taken aback.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologised and she rolled her eyes walking off. “I don’t know what was going through my head, one second I was at the fire the next I was kissing a random girl.”

“Look, bro, just go find her and explain everything.”

“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll do that.”

You had walked the farthest you could from the party, still bare foot since your shoes were in the van and John B had the keys. You were leaning against a tree trunk when you decided to go to the one place that would comfort you most despite reminding you of him.

You went straight home taking 20 minutes to walk down the cold desolate roads that were dark by this time. The first thing you did was get ice cream from the freezer before making your way to the tree house and wrapping yourself in the blankets befor leaning against one of the many pillows stored there. You listened to the gentle breeze above rustling the leaves of the blooming trees and the crickets in the distance and felt the gentle swaying of the platform beneath you.

This was your comfort place. It was the only place you felt like this since it was where you created all your favourite memories with Pope Heyward. The unattainable boy who had always been by your side.

By the time Pope made it home it was completely dark but he knew exactly where you would be. He made his way to his backyard and saw your small figure and made his way up. You sat up quickly and almost burst into more tears after seeing him.

"Y/N..."

"Pope what are you doing here?" You asked as he climbed up the ladder.

"I came to check up on you..." He sighs and sits down next to you. "And I came to say that that kiss was a big mistake."

"Why—what?" You looked at the boy in confusion.

"I like you. I know we've been best friends forever and I hope this doesn't make it weird but that's the truth. I kissed the girl to see if I could forget about you which in hindsight was really stupid. And you probably hate me."

You looked at him with glossy eyes and smiled.

"Yeah that was stupid if you thought you could get over me.” You laughed which died down when you turned to him looking more serious. “But I don’t hate you. It’s not like we were dating.”

“I was thinking...we could change that.” Pope tells you and you raise your eyebrows, a growing smile on your face.

“Hmm okay. Date. This friday. On the beach. You and me?" You asked and his eyes lit up feeling slightly surprised at the forwardness.

"Isn't it supposed to be me asking you out?" He asked teasingly.

"It's the twenty first century pope get with it."

"Of course. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He then jumped on top of you in all your blankets and you let out a shriek. “Oh my god, Pope are you trying to simultaneously give me a heart attack and break this thing?”

“Not really, but if it happens then oh well.” He feigned nonchalance for a second breaking into a grin as you slapped his arm.

“Watch it mister. Or I’ll reconsider that date.”

“Okay, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You sighed contently as he wrapped you up in his arms, both of you under the blankets and the stars. You could definitely get used to this.

Note • In honor of simping for Pope and jd day, year, decade and century i’ve written this cause he’s a cutie and I love him. This was kinda anticlimatic but 🤷‍♀️

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 3 years

Text

Crescent || Chapter 14

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 8,567 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character, Torture, Mentions of Slavery more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of slavery, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work.

Summary:

"Are you the Captain of that ship?" The person asked as they retained him, while someone else walked behind him and broke off the handcuffs.

"Yeah..." Hongjoong was still looking around, trying to spot all of his crew members. He managed to see Mingi, Jongho and Yeosang, but more people were still coming. "Who are you?"

"The Resistance, name's Bang Chan, and I'm the leader."

AO3

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Tagged: @angel0taiyo

Author’s Note: Crescent is a project I started a very long time ago, more than a year ago, even. I love this story, but I still haven't finished writing it despite the fact I've been at it for like half a year. I wrote most of the chapters I have so far even before I started posting, because I wanted to continue writing while I posted so that it would be finished without me ever catching up and so you readers would never have to go without chapters... But it's starting to feel like homework. I still love the story but I just, I can't bring myself to continue writing it right now. I'm frankly tired. I've written until chapter 24 but the story is going to be about 35 chapters, so I want to ask you a favor. In my twt there will be a poll, vote on it. The first option means I'm going to continue posting the chapters I have until we get to ch 24 and I have nothing to post and then it'll just stop. The second option means I won't post anything from this chapter onwards until I feel better and start writing again. No matter the option, I'm not going to be writing Crescent for the time being, or any other long fanfics for any kpop group, in the forseeable future, because I'm too tired. Here's the poll, you have 3 days from the moment it is posted to vote. Thank you, and I'm sorry.

After Hongjoong helped the officers determine who was part of his crew, and he had made certain that everyone was safe with him including Seonghwa, their ship was towed. According to the person in charge, they would be taken to a nearby planet part of the Kim Empire. They would be detained there along with the people that had accused them (the slave traders) and they would be interrogated to determine what had happened.

Hongjoong was extremely anxious, and he hated not being in control of the situation. He did his best to calm his crew down and relay the situation to them in the best of ways, convincing them that everything was fine and nothing bad would happen to them. In reality he didn't know if things would go so smoothly, and he too was afraid.

He was beginning to consider revealing his status as the prince of the Kim Empire when they began to enter the atmosphere of the planet and the shields were activated. He didn't want anyone to know, because it would put him and his soldiers in danger, but he just couldn't see another way out from it. Once they were finally inside of the planet, the ships stopped for a while and the people they had rescued were taken to another ship.

"What are you doing?" Hongjoong asked, because something didn't feel right. He forced himself to not look at Seonghwa.

"Well, you said they were rescued from a slave ship right?" The officer said. "We're going to take them for a proper check up and see if we can gather any information on their identities, since they don't have legal papers with them."

That made sense, but it still didn't feel right that they were being separated. They weren't a part of his crew, but Hongjoong had rescued them, and he felt like he was responsible for their well being until they had made it back to their planets and their families. There was no time to hesitate anymore, he needed to reveal his identity and make sure everyone was safe.

As he attempted to stand up with his hands cuffed behind his back, there was a loud explosion on the ship to their right and he was thrown to his side. Hongjoong incorporated quickly and looked around, trying to determine where the danger was coming from. The soldiers on his ship immediately pulled out their weapons and looked around, looking for the attacker.

There was another explosion in front of them and suddenly everything was covered in dust and smoke. There was coughing as The Crescent's crew members couldn't cover their faces, and then the noise came. Screaming and yelling and fighting as someone else boarded the ship. Hongjoong himself felt someone pull him up and over to the edge of the ship. He tried to fight it, but it was hard to move when he couldn't see or breathe properly.

"Stop struggling!" The person who was pulling him around whisper-yelled at him. "I'm trying to save you!"

"Who are you?!" Hongjoong yelled between coughing. His eyes stung and he couldn't open them properly.

"You'll know soon enough!" The person yelled, hugging Hongjoong close to them as they reached the side of the ship. "Hold on tight!"

And then they were falling, quickly. Hongjoong screamed, he was still handcuffed and he couldn't really hold onto anything, but the other person was grabbing him tightly. They landed on something and bounced up and down until they were finally let on the floor. Hongjoong was put on the floor and then he felt water pour on his face. Someone wiped it carefully until he was able to open his eyes, and finally he saw that they were on another ship, and that people were still jumping onto the net.

He looked up to see The Crescent and the two guard ships covered in a thick cloud of smoke and dust. As Hongjoong processed the situation, he began to panic and quickly looked around, trying to find his crew members and count them. Every person rescued was left at another part of the deck, where they would work on removing the handcuffs and cleaning their faces. Hongjoong made an attempt to run there, but the person that had rescued him stopped him.

"Hey, calm down friend!" The person said. "We need to get those cuffs off of you."

"I need to check on my crew!" Hongjoong complained, not caring that he was still handcuffed and not in a position to do much himself.

"Are you the Captain of that ship?" The person asked as they retained him, while someone else walked behind him and broke off the handcuffs.

"Yeah..." Hongjoong was still looking around, trying to spot all of his crew members. He managed to see Mingi, Jongho and Yeosang, but more people were still coming. "Who are you?"

"The Resistance, name's Bang Chan, and I'm the leader," Chan explained as the other person finished up the handcuffs and Hongjoong was able to move his arms again. "I'll tell you more when we get to land, go look for your crew."

Hongjoong didn't think twice and immediately left. He walked towards the little group while mentally counting heads and making sure everyone was there, trying not to panic because he still hadn't found Yunho. Eventually he found San, Hwanwoong and Siyeon. Seonghwa was also there, and so where all his soldiers. The few people missing came one after another from above, and then, at last, Hongjoong saw Yunho jump with someone else and land safely on deck.

"That's everyone boss!" A man shouted from the wheel.

"Let's get going Jeongin!" Chan shouted back to him.

The ship quickly changed directions and flew at top speed away from the scene. Hongjoong waited patiently until Yunho's handcuffs had been removed before hugging him, watching behind him as they left The Crescent behind. It hurt to see it become smaller as they ran away from the guard, since that ship had become like his home. But at least he and his crew were safe.

The realization came when they were already far away, that the people they had rescued from the slave ship were nowhere to be found. Hongjoong excused himself with Yunho and went looking for Chan. He found him next to the wheel, directing a younger looking boy as he piloted it. He was quick to join them, even though he thought it would probably be disrespectful, but he needed to know what had happened.

"Were this all the people you could save?" Hongjoong asked, looking rather urgent.

"You were the only ones on board according to our intel," Chan explained, confused.

"No, that can't be right... I'm aware that the guards were moving the people we rescued to one of their ships, but you must have seen them..." Hongjoong insisted.

"The people you rescued?" Chan raised an eyebrow. "I'm not understanding, weren't you arrested for attacking a merchant ship?"

"Yes, but we attacked a ship because they were slave traders," Hongjoong explained. "We were taking the victims to another planet to get them home."

Chan and Jeongin looked at each other before Chan nodded and Jeongin went off somewhere. Hongjoong was desperate. They were basically being kidnapped but he had still left people that he considered his responsibility back there, in a planet that they didn't know. And he still had a really bad feeling about everything that was going on.

"When we were listening to their conversation we didn't hear anything about slave traders," Chan explained. He looked more tense than before, like the news had hit him. "They probably changed their code again and we just didn't realize, it takes time to decipher them."

"Why are you attacking empire ships anyway?" Hongjoong asked. He was too stressed about the situation that he couldn't afford to be kind.

"I told you, I'm the leader of The Resistance, that's what we do," Chan shrugged, immune to Hongjoong's angry tone.

"But why?" Hongjoong insisted, tired of playing this game of asking questions.

"I'll explain everything when we arrive, for now, hold on tight." Chan warned him as he pressed a button.

The ship entered warp speed and they accelerated for what felt like an eternity. Finally, they arrived at some mountains, and Chan anchored the ship with practiced movements. Not far away from where they had anchored, there was an entrance into the mountains, a secret hideout, Hongjoong realized. Chan and his people led all of Hongjoong's crew into the labyrinth inside the mountain and provided them with food and blankets once they had made it to the main chamber.

Hongjoong didn't rest until he saw that all of his crew was safe inside the caves. He counted them multiple times and made sure everyone had what they needed, unable to sit still even when Chan insisted that he needed to rest. He only agreed to sit down when Mingi grabbed his arm and looked at him with worried and scared eyes, and he ended up squeezed between Yunho and Mingi.

"Okay, we owe you an explanation since that was basically a kidnapping," Chan said, sitting on top of a rock to make sure his voice could reach everyone else. "My name is Bang Chan, like I told your Captain, and I am the leader of The Interplanetary Resistance here in Silmerion.

"Our resistance wants to destroy the Kim Empire after all the crimes they have committed against their people, one of those such things is the arrest you just went through," Chan explained. "We just learned this from you, but apparently the ship you attacked was for slave trading. Well, The Sailfish is actually owned by the Kim Empire itself. It's one of the ships they use for trading of illegal substances."

Hongjoong exchanged looks with Hwanwoong, who was as tense as him. They were both members of the royal family, and this meant they were in a dangerous situation. However, they were also vastly outnumbered, so they needed to act carefully to avoid attracting attention to themselves. Their soldiers seemed to understand this, because they didn't react and maintained a low profile.

Behind Hongjoong, San had his eyes trained on him and was tapping his fingers nervously against the floor. Just when he had decided he no longer wanted to kill Hongjoong, it seemed like the Universe was throwing even more challenges at him than before. He spared a glance at Yunho and knew that the soldier felt the same as him, tense with the need to protect Hongjoong from danger. San was truly done for.

"At first we thought you were resistance members from another planet, and that you were attacking the ship as part of the protests," Chan continued explaining. "But it soon became clear that was not it when your Captain told me about the slaves. Unfortunately, because we didn't prepare for it, we couldn't rescue them."

"You mean to tell me that the Empire is behind slave trading and transport of illegal substances?" One of the soldiers asked, and Hongjoong had to contain himself to not tell her to keep it down.

"Not only that. They also don't take proper care of some planets, leaving them without money or taking it from them to finance their wars and expansion, one would think some of those planets are more like colonies than rightful states of the Empire."

"Like Merth X-24?" Mingi asked.

Hongjoong turned to look at him in surprise. Mingi was never one to talk in big meetings, or even talk about himself, but this time he looked hurt and like he wanted to speak and let things out. Next to him, Jongho squeezed his hand softly and nodded slowly. Chan was also looking at him with all of his attention, motioning him to speak, to share his story.

"Merth X-24 is a mining planet, we supply a lot of the metals the Empire uses to craft their special weapons and military ships," Mingi explains, face turning red at the attention placed on him. "However we don't get much from it... My community lives in a system of underground caves because the planet is very hot and arid outside.

"A lot of people die in the caves every week, and we have a lot of orphans and elderly people that the community has to take care of, I'm one of them," it didn't hurt Mingi to speak much about the death of his parents. He didn't remember them at all and had grown being taken care of by the community like almost everyone else. "There's no compensation and we don't receive proper education either. I left the planet to find a better job and send money back to the orphanage."

"Thanks for sharing with us," Chan sighed. "Like yours, there's a lot of planets under the Kim Empire left to their own luck even when they provide to it."

Everyone in the crew was dead silent. Hongjoong's eyes were alight with fury, unable to believe what he had just heard from Mingi himself. His own crew, that was now like his family, had suffered in the hands of his father. He had seen it in Yeosang before, and had even heard Jongho's story, but now he knew Mingi and Seonghwa had been victims of it too, and who knew who else in his crew had suffered from it.

Had Yunho's ship also been a slave ship from his own Empire that had happened to be discovered and that they decided to 'rescue' as a cover up? How had Hongjoong been so blind to all of this for so long? He had been so focused always in battling, in not being the shadow of his brothers by making himself a name as a fighter that he had failed all of his people. He was no better than whoever was behind this.

He felt so guilty and so ashamed that coming clean seemed like the best option. His shoulders and back were tense as he tried to come to a decision, and Yunho seemed to sense this, because he grabbed Hongjoong's hand tightly. Hongjoong looked at him and Yunho shook his head almost imperceptibly, telling him not to do it. Hongjoong wanted desperately to come clean though.

"Well, in any case, I think you need to rest," Chan finally said, after a long moment of silence. "Rest here, we'll make sure the empire's guard doesn't come looking for you, and tomorrow we can help you decide what you'll do from here."

Hongjoong couldn't hold it back and he stood up rather abruptly, accidentally pushing Mingi who was sitting next to him. Yunho immediately stood up as well and grabbed Hongjoong's arm, pulling him back. Chan looked at them with interest, a little confused at their change in attitudes. San tensed up behind them and he noticed how every soldier did as well, ready to jump and defend their prince if he decided to act up.

"I-" Hongjoong began to say, but Yunho didn't let him finish.

"I'm sorry, our Captain doesn't feel well after hearing about this," Yunho said, holding Hongjoong's arm tightly. "He's rather sensitive, I'll take him away until he calms down."

Yunho didn't wait for anyone's approval, he just pulled Hongjoong away by the arm, and Hongjoong followed him. San used the opportunity, and while everyone was looking at the pair that had just left, he crawled out of his place and followed them in silence once things had calmed down. Yunho and Hongjoong walked into a deeper part of the cave. It was dark around them, which made it hard to see, but San managed to follow them perfectly.

"Stop pulling on me," Hongjoong complained, tearing his arm away. "We're far enough."

"What were you thinking?" Yunho asked, keeping his voice low to stop the echo of the caves propagating their conversation.

"You heard what they said about the Empire, horrible things have been happening behind my family's back and it must be stopped!" Hongjoong kept his voice to a whisper as well, as much as he wanted to scream.

San was hunched behind a rock formation, ears trained into their conversation. He could see almost perfectly in the darkness, and could hear them quite clearly as well, such was the blessing he had been made with. Soldiers from Lyria 38 were genetically engineered to be better. That was why they were so lethal, and so sought after to complete dirty jobs. They were expensive as well, although San had no idea just what price his boss had put for his services.

"But you revealing your identity will not stop anything!" Yunho grabbed him by the shoulders. "It'll just get you killed, you heard what they said, they want to overthrow the government."

"Is it so bad that I want to just apologize to them?" Hongjoong asked, sounding like he was about to cry. "I was ignorant too, I never cared for anything but war, and look what the ignorance of my family has done to them."

"It's not bad, but you won't get anything done if you're dead..." Yunho sighed, pulling Hongjoong into a tight hug.

"It's my fault, that they had to live like that..." Hongjoong muttered. "Yeosang stealing from the streets to get out of his dying planet, Jongho being put into child labor, Mingi losing his parents, Seonghwa and you being victims of human trafficking."

"Hey you don't know that, you don't know if my ship was also from the Empire," Yunho was quick to say, clearly trying to offer him an anchor, to make it a little less worse.

"I don't, but what if it was?" Hongjoong stepped away for a moment. "I feel so ashamed, so regretful... The Emperor and the royal family are always so focused on the war aspect that they leave a great deal to the advisors. We turned a blind eye to things that were more important than war and look at all the pain and suffering it's brought."

San took deep breaths as he tried to keep himself from leaving his hiding. It didn't surprise him anymore that it hurt to see Hongjoong like that, so desperate and angry with himself. He felt bad for Yunho too, who looked lost as his boyfriend was inconsolable, and wanted to step out to help them both. The thing was, San had never helped anyone before, he just knew of death and torture. And even if he had known what to do in such a situation, it wasn't his place.

Despite what Wooyoung had said about eight of them being together, San just couldn't see it. He didn't belong anywhere. He was barely human, a tool created for the work that no one else wanted to do, and despite the fact that he had come to care for the others, it wasn't right for him to be with them. It wasn't right to want to belong. And yet, he had begun to crave it, to yearn for it.

"Hongjoong, look," Yunho said after a moment of silence, as he had tried to find the right words to say. "I cannot erase the burden from you, but we can still solve this. Remember what you said when we were at Tebos, after you learned about its status?"

"That I would go back to my family and make things right," Hongjoong nodded, remembering the promise he had maid to himself.

"We can still do that," Yunho said. "The situation is worse than we thought, but we're looking for the biggest treasure in the universe, right? We can take that treasure back home and convince your family to change things. Use the money for the greater good."

"We don't have a ship anymore, though," Hongjoong sighed, unable to see a way out. "And even if we did, we just lost the map."

"No we didn't," Yunho grinned, pulling out the little box that contained all of their progress out of his coat. "I grabbed it when the empire's ships began the commotion. I now realize they would have taken it away after arresting us, but we were lucky Chan and his people arrived right then."

"You..." Hongjoong grabbed the box carefully, eyes wide in surprise.

"I wasn't going to let all the progress go to waste, after all Yeosang and San have worked hard on it," Yunho smiled.

San crouched back down when he heard his name, heart beating fast thinking he had been discovered. Of course he hadn't, but Yunho had already proved to have a sharper eye than most. San was actually certain that Yunho had seen right through him all this time, from the moment he had stepped onto the ship, maybe the only thing that had kept him alive was that he had never confirmed San's original intentions.

"Besides," Yunho continued. "I know it's important what you're doing for your brother."

"This stopped being about my brother some time ago, let's be honest." Hongjoong smiled sadly, softly patting the pocket where he kept the compass. "I loved him so much, he was my role model, but I now realize he might have not been better than me. I have an opportunity to change things now, he would like this better."

"That I'm certain he would," Yunho nodded.

"Alright," Hongjoong said with a sense of finality. "It's decided, we have to get that treasure and save this Empire before it is too late."

"That's what I'm talking about," Yunho smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Hongjoong's lips.

"Let's go back, I need to ask San and Yeosang to help me finish with the map, we were so close to being done before we were detained," Hongjoong smiled with renewed energy.

San knew he must return now, as they would probably find it weird if he wasn't there with Yeosang to help with the map. His heart was beating fast, thinking about the possibilities. Someone out there was trying to kill Hongjoong and he was the only one who knew, yet he didn’t know enough to be able to protect him. He must figure it out and help Hongjoong.

"You know, Hongjoong looked really affected about what Chan said..." Yeosang muttered.

Him, Mingi, Jongho and Seonghwa were sitting apart from the rest in a little group. Yeosang hadn't wanted Seonghwa to join them, but Mingi had insisted on not leaving him alone and Yeosang had been too weak to deny it to him. Jongho nodded in agreement before looking at Mingi and patting his leg. Mingi was looking down, probably from everything he had shared about himself.

San arrived at that moment and the others greeted him briefly, asking him where he had been. He gave a brief excuse about just wanting some time for himself and they left it at that. San was grateful that they didn't ask for more, because he didn't feel like making more excuses, like lying even more.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Jongho said after a moment of silence, because he truly was.

"It's okay, honestly I didn't get to know them," Mingi shrugged. "I'm more worried about all the kids I left behind, my little siblings."

"What were they like?" Yeosang asked, resting his head on his knees.

"There were a lot of them, and most were very playful," Mingi smiled. "They liked bedtime stories, especially the story about how I lost my leg." He chuckled softly at the surprised faces of the others

"They made you tell them a story about how you lost your leg?" Seonghwa asked, confused and slightly disgruntled about the confession.

"Honestly, it's not as bad as it seems," Mingi shrugged. "To them, it makes me a hero, they never made me feel self conscious about it. I'll tell you about it if you want to know, I think I don't mind with you."

They nodded. Mingi seemed more open to share about his past now that he had talked in front of everyone in the ship and the resistance, now that he didn't have to keep things for himself. And they wanted to know more about him, to hear what he had wanted to say. It wasn't easy for Mingi to speak, it had never been, but now he felt listened to.

"We were never given better equipment to deal with the mines, despite the fact that we know the empire has the technology for it, but we always remained unsafe..." Mingi explained, giving them a little background. "That day when we were at the mine, it collapsed.

"I made it out at first, but I could hear screaming from the inside, it was a friend of mine..." Mingi shrugged, not really knowing how to put it into words. "Being trapped down there is terrifying, we live underground but we know where our exits are, when a mine caves in.. the darkness is indescribable.

"I went back in for her and managed to get her out, but the mine was still collapsing and I didn't move fast enough, a piece of rock fell on me and trapped my leg," Mingi touched his wooden leg. "It could've been worse."

"That sounds very painful," Seonghwa muttered, glancing at the wooden leg.

"It was, but I don't remember it that well," Mingi smiled. "I honestly don't miss my leg, and I was just one more victim of a mine collapsing, not a big deal."

"You're very brave to say that," Jongho said, "I think I would've been scared if I had lost an arm while working as a child."

"As a child?" Yeosang asked, a little confused.

"Yeah, I've been working in ship building since I was a child." Jongho explained. "I've been an orphan since young, and I'm honestly not sure how I got to the orphanage in the first place, but a lot of us were adopted into child labor. I know of others who were sold by their parents."

Mingi leaned on Jongho's shoulder, the only way he knew of offering comfort. Jongho's voice didn't express what he actually felt about how he had grown up, and was almost indifferent. Mingi still offered comfort, because he didn't know what else to do and he knew Jongho would never ask them for any kind of support.

"It wasn't that bad, I like to think I grew up well..." Jongho tried to shrug it off, to not let the others know of the abuse he had gone through with his voice. "Plus I learned and became an expert in ships from there, and that's what got me into The Crescent, it's not all too bad."

"What do people have with being cruel to children?" San scoffed, Jongho's story having hit close to home. "They always make a show of protecting children but then turn a blind eye..."

"Do you want to share?" Yeosang asked carefully, noticing that San was tense and probably angry.

They had all put on a show of being scared of San at first, but for what it mattered, they had never actually seen him angry at anything. Not even when Yeosang had sneaked into the ship. San shook his head. He couldn't reveal to them where he came from or what he was to begin with, but he also didn't care to go digging around his feelings. There were more important things to do.

"Alright," Yeosang nodded, dropping it once he saw San was not in a good mood.

"Was it hard for you to live on the streets?" Mingi asked Yeosang, still leaning on Jongho's shoulder.

"A little," Yeosang shrugged. "To be honest I began spending a lot of time out when my father left us, the biggest change was just not having a roof to sleep under."

"Why did you put yourself through that?" Seonghwa asked, a little wary about even talking to Yeosang, but genuinely curious.

"My mom's abuse," Yeosang replied, although his tone gave away that he didn't like Seonghwa prying, even if he hadn't been the first to ask about it. "It became too much, she got angry every time she saw me. I decided to just leave on the streets until I could get enough money and get myself a ticket out of Tebos."

They all nodded. Mingi could remember the state of Yeosang's house when they had gone back for his stuff before taking off. The house wasn't in too bad of a shape, but it was easy to tell that it had fallen into abandonment as no one took care of it. It didn't look like it was completely devoid of life, but it looked like whoever lived there had long stopped caring. It had been a sad view, especially to him who was always used to being around a lot of people.

"What about you?" Yeosang asked Seonghwa next. "How did you end up in The Sailfish?"

"I was running away from home as well," Seonghwa shrugged. "It's none of your business though."

"Come on, you made me say it," Yeosang scoffed. "Why were you running away?"

"I made you share nothing, I asked a question and you chose to reply," Seonghwa frowned, not liking his insistence. "I'm choosing not to reply to your question."

"Come on, the rest of us shared our stories, don't be like that," Yeosang insisted, raising his voice a little.

"Yeosang..." Jongho warned him, but he didn't listen.

"Just tell us," Yeosang said again.

"Why are you forcing me and not him?" Seonghwa asked, clearly annoyed as he pointed at San.

"Because I don't trust you," Yeosang answered truthfully. "Everyone else that was rescued was content with the idea of going back home, why did you decide to stay? It's suspicious and I don't trust you."

"Fine, want to know why I don't want to go back?" Seonghwa raised his eyebrow, gesturing openly. "Imagine being called stupid and useless by your family your whole life, being denied things and overprotected as if you're unable to take care of yourself just because your brain is a little fucked up and I can’t read. I can do everything perfectly, I don't need anyone." Seonghwa crossed his arms, defensive. "I was tired of my brother making my life impossible every day, and despite everything that happened in that ship, I don't want to go back. Why don't you go back to the abuse of your mother, huh?"

Everyone was left speechless by Seonghwa's outburst. Seonghwa took a deep breath before closing his eyes and massaging his temples. He felt embarrassed about his secret being exposed like that. He knew he was not what his brother had said to his face or what his father had whispered behind his back; he was smart and could memorize long texts after someone read them to him. He was good with numbers too. But he couldn't help but see his own shortcomings.

"I'm sorry," Yeosang said, to the surprise of everyone else. "I acted like an asshole, and I'm sorry."

Mingi sat up straight again and scooted closer towards Seonghwa, grabbing his hand tightly and smiling at him. Jongho smiled, because he knew what Mingi was thinking, and also because everyone else's confusion amused him. Especially Seonghwa, who was staring at Mingi's hand probably wondering what was going on.

"I can't read either!" Mingi exclaimed, and Yeosang and San both looked at him in surprise. "I never learned how to, and although I'm sure our situations are very different, I think we're both good enough as we are."

Seonghwa looked up at him and smiled back, softly squeezing Mingi's hand. It was comforting, despite the fact that their situations were different like how Mingi had said. But he was right, it was enough just like that. Seonghwa knew he was much more than his inability to read, and he would show his parents that much.

"It's okay Yeosang," Seonghwa said finally, looking at the other. "You were indeed an asshole, but I understand why you wouldn't trust me, so it's fine. Let's try to put it behind us."

"It doesn't help if you call me an asshole just like that," Yeosang retorted, eyes narrowed down on Mingi's hand still holding Seonghwa's.

"Stop it, both of you, Captain Hongjoong is coming this way," Jongho muttered quickly, swatting at both of them.

San looked up at Hongjoong and Yunho as they walked towards them. They had taken their time to look for them as they had said previously and he worried that he might have missed something important. The situation was delicate for everyone, but San was a few steps ahead from everyone and he feared he would mess up. He had never been worried about failing before, but now there were lives he cared about at stake, and he felt fear.

"Yeosang, San," Hongjoong said. His tone was optimistic, and San wondered if it was a facade or if he truly felt hopeful again. "Yunho was really smart and brought the map with him, I need you to help me finish it."

Yeosang immediately shot up from his place, face relieved as his and San's work was still safe. San was quick to pretend to be surprised as well, although not to the extent of Yeosang, but he couldn't let the others notice that he already knew about the map. He stood up as well and let Yeosang pull him away to work on the map with Hongjoong, leaving the others behind.

Everyone watched them leave before Jongho suddenly stood up and motioned Mingi to do the same as well. Mingi followed, carefully letting go of Seonghwa's hand and letting Jongho take him away after excusing both of them, leaving Yunho and Seonghwa alone. Yunho sat in front of him with a smile and Seonghwa looked sheepishly at him, a little disoriented and vulnerable.

"You alright?" Yunho asked, leaning back. "Rough first day as a crew member."

"Don't mention it," Seonghwa sighed.

"Don't worry too much, we'll make it through this one," Yunho smiled. "Hongjoong always finds a way out, even if he sometimes needs a little push from me."

"You don't address him as the Captain?" Seonghwa asked, a little confused.

"Oh man, you still have so much to learn about this crew," Yunho chuckled. "But don't worry, if everything goes well, you'll get used to it in no time."

"Why did you take us away?" Mingi asked once Jongho had deemed they were far away enough and stopped walking.

"I'm going to say something to you, but you don't have to give me an answer right now," Jongho explained, rubbing his hands together.

"Okay?" Mingi didn't really understand what was going on, but if Jongho had something to say to him, he would listen.

"I'm starting to like you, as more than a friend," Jongho began, keeping it simple and direct. "You really don't have to tell me anything right now, I just wanted to get it out of my chest, I guess."

"But I-I..." Mingi stuttered.

He felt confused. What was there to like about him? He didn't have an important role in the ship and he was lacking in many ways. He was often afraid of everything and wasn't particularly smart or capable, there was nothing good about him that Jongho could like. Why was he confessing something like that at the moment?

"I don't get it," Mingi said. "There's nothing of me for you to like."

"Of course there is!" Jongho immediately interrupted him, not willing to let Mingi put himself down like that. Especially in front of him. "There's so much of you for me to like. You're so kind Mingi, so kind and so caring that you're willing to put yourself at risk for others."

"I'm not, I'm a coward..." Mingi shook his head, in denial.

"That is not true, you spoke up for Yeosang back when they were thinking of handing him over," Jongho grabbed both of his hands. "Even when you had to speak against the Captain and against the First Mate, you didn't hesitate."

"But-"

"And just now when you revealed your secret to the others in favor of comforting Seonghwa, that is not an easy thing to do." Jongho insisted, reminding him of the things he had done. "You also talked to Hongjoong about the dream you had, which helped save Seonghwa and others' lives in the end."

"But I had to ask for your help to do that..." Mingi retorted, feeling small.

"Yeah, and asking for help is also brave," Jongho smiled. "We can't do everything by ourselves, and admitting that in the first place is a huge thing. You asked for my help, but I did nothing except be by your side.You did it all by yourself."

Mingi looked at him with wide eyes. Jongho was earnest and honest, he just couldn't see any trace of lies in his words, and it made him overwhelmed in many ways. Mingi knew he wasn't necessarily bad. He was good at his job as a miner and that had always been enough, but it was the first time he had been described like this by someone. It made him feel more special than when the kids he took care of called him a hero.

"I really don't need you to reply to me right now, we're not in the best of situations," Jongho continued after a moment. "Plus, I know your heart is kind of divided right now." He smiled, making Mingi blush for being put in the spotlight like that. "I hope you know I don't mind if you like others, or if you don't like me. I just wanted to let you know you're special."

"I-" Mingi was speechless. He had never received a love confession before, how was he even supposed to reply to this? "I don't know what to say."

"I don't expect you to say anything, don't worry." Jongho smiled, letting go of his hands. "Let's go back now."

Yeosang left to find Chan and ask him for a place where they could work, leaving San and Hongjoong alone. They were away from everyone else from the crew and the resistance, just sort of waiting at an empty space, hidden from the eyes of others. San knew this would be the perfect time to complete his mission. He could kill Hongjoong and just run away, and by the time the others realized what had happened, he would have made himself disappear.

He tried to envision himself doing it. This was the golden chance he had been waiting for since the beginning of his mission, so he tried to imagine himself ending Hongjoong's life. It was not a surprise that he couldn't picture it. Hongjoong trusted him and even gave his back to San, but San couldn't reach for the knife in his pocket and slice his throat. He hadn't been able to for a while.

Hesitation felt foreign to him. He had never doubted when performing in missions before, which had made him a prized weapon, expensive and sought after. And yet here he was, with the only person that had managed to disarm him. Although to be fair, he was certain he wouldn't be able to kill any of the others Wooyoung had mentioned if he was asked to.

Was that the reason? Had Wooyoung's revelation been the reason he had failed to kill Hongjoong? It sounded possible, but San knew that wasn't it, because he had begun to hesitate even before that dream. What that dream had done to him though, was make him nervous. Someone had seen through him and now it felt like just about anyone could do it, like he was exposed and vulnerable and therefore in danger. Of course, Wooyoung had an advantage because he could simply walk into people's dreams, but it was still messing with him.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

At some point he had turned around to look at San, maybe had asked him something even, but San had heard or noticed none of it. He wondered what face he was making for Hongjoong to look so worried. His heart shrunk painfully in his chest as he mentally asked Hongjoong to not look at him like that, because he couldn't take his kindness any longer. San was absolutely, royally fucked.

"Nothing is wrong, I'm just tired after all that went on just now," San lied. At least he could still do that properly.

"Do you want to go rest?" Hongjoong still looked worried though, maybe even more than before. "Yeosang and I can start on the work and you can join us later when you feel more rested."

"No, it's fine." San shook his head quickly. "The map is more important, we can all rest later when we're done with it."

"Nothing is more important than your well being." Hongjoong was quick to say.

San felt his heart break a little more inside his chest. Please don't do this, he thought, because it hurt when Hongjoong was nice to him, and San wasn't used to emotional pain. He could withstand all sorts of injuries to his body, but he had long forgotten what it felt like to truly hurt inside, and he didn't want to remember.

"Go rest, before I make you myself, and you can join us later." Hongjoong insisted with a smile, pushing San softly back towards where the rest of the crew was.

He obeyed, because he didn't think he could actually keep a facade up much longer when he was hurting so much inside. His training and the way he had been raised had broken his spirit long ago, but being part of The Crescent's crew was putting it back together, and the process hurt far much more than the breaking had. They made him feel human, and accepted, and he didn't know if he liked that.

Jongho was sat on the floor, thinking about the conversation he had held with Mingi, when a ragged doll fell on his lap. He looked up, finding the sharp eyes of a young man around his age standing in front of him, smiling at him. Jongho looked down and grabbed the doll. It was a very worn out dog, missing an ear and a beady eye, and it's previously white fur had become gray with age. It was incredibly ugly, but Jongho's chest swelled with recognition at it. He stood up quickly, grabbing Sunwoo by the shoulders and looking at him in the eyes. Sunwoo's smile grew bigger before he was pulling Jongho into an embrace. He was alive, they both were, despite what had seemed to be a huge improbability.

"You fulfilled your promise," Sunwoo whispered next to him, and Jongho held him even tighter.

"You're okay," Jongho said in return. "How are you here?"

"The Resistance rescued me, many years ago, from the orphanage," Sunwoo explained, shrugging a little bit after they put distance between them. "I tried looking for you to take you with me, but there was not enough time and I didn't know where to even start looking... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jongho reassured him. "I am where I'm meant to be now, with my crew." He looked down at the plushie again, and smiled. "You kept it."

"It was our promise," Sunwoo nodded. "So... How did you end here?"

"It's a long story..."

Hongjoong was admiring the vastness of space when he felt a tap on his shoulder and the scene broke apart. He turned around, confused, but realization dawned on him when he saw Wooyoung standing in front of him. The other looked tired and antsy, like he hadn't been able to rest well despite the fact that he spent most of his time sleeping. For all that Hongjoong was mad at Wooyoung for never coming back to tell him the truth, he couldn't help but worry.

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked, his voice full of worry. Hongjoong felt bad, because he was the one that should have asked when Wooyoung looked like that.

"We're fine," Hongjoong assured him quickly. "You look terrible, though, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." Wooyoung sighed, rubbing his face. "I think it's because I've been messing with my sleep schedule in order to meet with all of you more."

"You should stop doing that," Hongjoong sighed. What was it with people around him not taking care of themselves?

"I can't, our meeting will be soon and I have keep an eye on many details..." Wooyoung looked at Hongjoong for a moment before sighing. "I guess an explanation is due, but first tell me if everyone in the crew is safe, yes?"

"We're all okay, I promise, even Seonghwa." Hongjoong reassured him again. "It wasn't a pleasant experience, and we don't have a ship any more, but it could've been worse if you hadn't warned me about it."

"I'm sorry, I should've been quicker, but you'll get the ship back, don't worry," Wooyoung sighed.

"How do you know that?" Hongjoong muttered, still a little uncomfortable with the fact that Wooyoung just seemed to know so much.

Without replying, Wooyoung moved his hands and the emptiness turned into a small bedroom. The Somnum went to sit on the bed, rubbing his temples and looking even more pale than he had before. Hongjoong knew this was taking a toll on him, but he also wanted answers, and Wooyoung was finally willing to give them to him.

Hongjoong sat down on the bed next to him, hesitantly putting a hand on Wooyoung's back and rubbing it comfortingly. Wooyoung smiled weekly at him before stretching and bringing his hands together in front of his mouth, like he was considering something. He probably didn't know where to begin, and Hongjoong couldn't blame him.

"You might have figured this out by now, or not, but I'm a Somnum." Wooyoung said first, because he figured that was the best way to begin. "We have prophetic dreams at some point in our lives that reveal to us what our destiny is, and you were in my dream."

"That is..." Hongjoong didn't know how to describe it. He didn't know exactly how he felt about being in someone else's dream, not that Wooyoung could control that, it was just that Wooyoung semed to know so much about him but Hongjoong didn't know about him.

"This is a replica of my room, where I first had my dream about the seven of you." Wooyoung gestured openly, and Hongjoong looked around.

"Right, you said they're all in my ship right now, that you're the only one that's missing." Hongjoong nodded, remembering the short discussion they had had before Wooyoung warned him about the raid. "Who are the others?"

"Well, you'll be glad to know your boyfriend is part of this," Wooyoung smiled at Hongjoong's surprised face. Yunho had never mentioned any weird dreams to him. "I haven't visited him yet 'cause he scares me, but he's part of it. You already know about Yeosang and Mingi as well, because you helped save one and the other told you about the slave ship."

"I assume Seonghwa is also part of this, since you asked me to protect him," Hongjoong began to draw conclusions. "But that only makes six of us, who are the other two?"

"That would be San and Jongho." Wooyoung nodded, satisfied that Hongjoong was easily catching up. "I haven't visited Jongho's dreams though, haven't gotten a chance with how quickly everything has happened."

"But you've visited San?" Hongjoong asked, a little curious to know how the other was doing, since San hadn't seem to be doing well lately, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Yes, he didn't take very kindly to it..." Wooyoung sighed. "I'm sure he'll get over it soon though."

Wooyoung fell back on his bed and closed his eyes, rubbing his eyelids softly. He felt so tired. He had been getting a lot more visions lately, as the most important point in their mission approached, and he hadn't gotten proper rest in a long time. He now knew who was behind Hongjoong's assassination plans, but he couldn't just reveal something like that. Telling the wrong information to Hongjoong would probably ruin everything.

"So, why are the eight of us important?" Hongjoong shifted slightly so he could look straight at Wooyoung.

"We'll influence what is to become a very important historical event..." Wooyoung muttered, but his voice faltered.

"I suppose you can't tell me yet, right?" Hongjoong sighed. Even if he was beginning to understand how this situation worked, it didn't lessen his curiosity, his want for knowledge.

"Not yet, or it could ruin everything." Wooyoung looked at him apologetically, but Hongjoong dismissed it with a smile. "Just keep an eye on them, okay? Keep them close."

"I will, don't worry." Hongjoong nodded, already compromised.

He didn't know why he trusted Wooyoung so much to begin with. They had met only three times, taking this one into account, but Wooyoung had shown that he had only the best in mind for them. Plus, Hongjoong felt so lost now that they were without a ship. He no longer felt the power he had felt before, instead, he felt like he was disappointing his older brother. He wasn't a Captain anymore, but he couldn't be a prince either, so who was he?

"You know Hongjoong," Wooyoung sat up and grabbed his hands. "For the amazing leader you are, you doubt yourself too much." The compass that Taejoong had given him materialized on Hongjoong's hands, and he gasped a little.

"Can you hear my thoughts?" Hongjoong asked, a little confused and surprised.

"A little, your thinking is very loud." Wooyoung smiled. "Have a little more trust on yourself, we will need your guidance." Absentmindedly, he brushed a strand of hair away from Hongjoong's face, the other hand still holding Hongjoong's.

Wooyoung knew so much about them through his dreams, and he had slowly begun to fall for all of them. It became confusing to visit them in dreams, to keep in mind the true status of their relationship. He couldn't help but forget sometimes, the lines of reality and dream becoming a bit blurry. Hongjoong didn't seem to mind though, as he stared at Wooyoung's face, his heart beating a little faster.

"Don't forget you're more than just your title," Wooyoung said with a smile, putting both of his hands down on his lap. Hongjoong nodded, still at a loss for words. "I don't mind if you tell Yunho about this dream by the way, I'm planning to meet all of you soon and finally explain some things." Wooyoung stood up from his bed and stretched.

"Are you leaving now?" Hongjoong asked, standing up in a hurry.

"Yeah, I'm really tired," Wooyoung smiled. "I'll be back soon though, take care."

And so, Wooyoung was gone. Hongjoong stared down at the compass in his hands and remembered the words of his brother. The situation had become bigger than he could have ever imagined, and he felt sorry and lost, but Wooyoung was right, Hongjoong was more than just a prince or the captain of the ship. He didn't know what the future had in store for him and the others, but he knew he would overcome it no matter what.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopscape #8makes1teamnet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #atz #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #crescent #bluenicorn writes

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Femme: 45

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader, GDragon x Bigbang, Erik Nam, Hyuna x Dawn, Black Pink x Female oc, TXT x robot oc, Got7 x Female oc

Rating: Mature

Length: 3.3k

Warnings: Birth, Smut, Oral (male receiving & Female receiving), Pregnancy sex, Orgasm denial, Overstimulation, Dirty talk, Cute scenes.

Announcement: It has been a long time but I had some spare time to finish this chapter 5 more to go. I tried to hint at some of the other background characters stories at the end of this chapter. I will hopefully expand on them more just a fraction in these closing chapters. I one day, when I revisit and edit the hell out of this fic, wish to create the side stories and elaborate more on them. 5 CHAPTERS LEFT!

Your channel had blown up massively taking over the number one channels on the social media platform, surpassing, S series and you were setting dates after your next child was born to go on tour starting and ending in Seoul. Working with a camera crew and setting up your house you had actually decided to start a reality tv series based on your busy lives.

You started filming and you were talking about your routines and the dynamic between you and the boys, the boys decided not to disclose their relationships between them but didn’t act much different around each other. They would still cuddle and feed each other and make inside jokes. Still getting questions from femmes and their companions about issues you took your time to explain and encouraged more questions when you go on tour the end of the year.

The twins and Jeongsan were running around after daycare, the ran straight into the living room climbing onto the couch, jumping up and down on Yoongi’s back. “Daddy Yoogi, Daddy Yoogi” In a quick movement he caught them both with his arm and picked them up and spun them around making them giggle.

Seokjin called them to the table for some afternoon tea, “Come on, you can have juice and a bikkie, how does that sound?” “Bikkie!” they each scrambled to the table sitting quietly waiting for their snack. You waddled over kissing the twins on the head and scruffing Jeongsan’s hair. The front door opened and you turned to see Kyungju storm past and Jimin holding the door open laughing silently.

“Why is my son upset?” Yoongi asked concerned “Some girl at school likes him and stole his milk at school and he is mad,” Jimin said and Jungkook was trying to hold himself together and Yoongi nodded silently heading up to the room to deal with it.

You were home alone Hoseok was visiting his parents with his son. This meant you could do anything you wished, taking the keys to the van thanking yourself for getting yourself an international license. The car though it looked old like the vintage car from your time, it was modern as hell It practically drove itself and that scared you a little. With a destination in mind, you started driving. Except you had accidentally been speeding not seeing that the limit had dropped.

You were pulled over and a wave of nausea washed over you and you had vomited all over the police officers shoes. They took you to the station believing you were intoxicated. You thankfully locked the car before you left. Filling out some paperwork you sat in the holding cell in the corner of the station and waited.

“Do you have someone we can contact” you had to think carefully, Namjoon had a reputation that you didn’t want to ruin and you had to pick someone who wouldn’t make the situation worse and wouldn’t make fun of you for it.

Before you had the chance to answer you heard a familiar voice. “Why is my wife in the holding cell?” He walked over and the officer saluted him.

“Uh Detective Kim, she was caught speeding and assaulted an officer” “Namjoon, I got a craving for jajangmyeon and so I went for a drive down the road and I didn’t see the speed limit sign and I got pulled over and I was nauseous and I accidentally vomited on an officers pants and they thought I was drunk so they brought me back here.”

“Sir her blood test results shows her blood alcohol level is zero” the officer wearing sweat pants glared at you and you looked apologetically at him. “Of course it is zero, she is pregnant” Namjoon pulled open the cell door and walked you out to sit on a comfy chair. He ordered some jajangmyeon and sighed.

“Is the baby okay, you must be hungry” he frowned glaring at the officers. The two paled considerably. You took your husbands face and gave him a kiss and apologizing. “I am sorry Namjoon, I was just so hungry, I thought I was driving sensibly, last time I remember fake street was 60 but it is 50 now, when did they change it”

The officers paled a little further, “It was changed this morning they lowered it as there was a lot of trouble for cars during work hours trying to merge. You weren’t to know”

“How much money do I owe, I can pay it now,” the two shook their heads. “No, we couldn’t expect you to pay anything for a simple mistake,” “No I am a woman of my word, I did the wrong thing and my husband as a law enforcer and a detective can’t have the law bent for him. How much?”

“A first offence ticket for speeding would be approximately 30,000 won for being under 20km over the limit,” Namjoon said and you nodded and pulled out the money.

“What about the pants? I can pay for them to be dry cleaned” The food arrived and the officers paid for the meal and handed it over, you began eating heartedly and Namjoon sat beside you rubbing your belly fondly. “My wife, do not stress, you are supposed to be resting. What if you went into labour early again”

Needless to say, you did not live it down, The boys were calling you a speed demon for the next few weeks, as you waddled down the hall Seokjin began calling like you were a racehorse or race car. Jimin would dodge out of your way and grin down at you shouting “WOAH slow down!”

Finding out you were having a baby girl with Namjoon had to be one of the sweetest things. He would come to you with different names. He wanted to find an English name and a Korean name. The names were either too odd or sounded too old fashion. You were snacking on some leftovers from the fridge and Yoongi snuck from his studio to the kitchen and back.

“What’s with Yoongi?” “He is worried you will go into labour again?” Namjoon who you were leaning on had a resting Seokjin laying on his lap. You were running your hand over Seokjin’s soft hair and Namjoon ran his hand up and down Seokjin’s “We have all placed out bets” the eldest smiled tiredly up at you causing your chest to constrict pleasantly.

“Who has placed bets?” “Jiyong and his family, all our parents, his parents, everyone at your work, Jimin’s work, my work, Hajun and his wife, us, Erik, the BlackPink girls, the TXT boys the NCT boys texted their bets last night and also Tae set up a poll online last night and ninety-six percent of the people who voted voted for Yoongi” Jimin grinned looking up from his phone.

“How many people voted?” “In twenty-four hours one million four hundred thousand”

Finally convincing Yoongi to spend some time with you, he seemed to relax at the idea that you weren't about to surprise deliver another baby. It was amusing how he would cautiously look at your belly and it would take several attempts before he would give you a quick kiss and pull away. However, you missed him and when all the children were at daycare or asleep and you were feeling frisky you had to come up with a plan.

Taking out Yoongi’s favourite undergarments and his favourite clothes on you, you got dressed. You did your hair just the way he liked it exposing your neck. You were set, walking into his studio he turned and pulled off his headphones. “Is something wrong?”

“No I just wanted to see you” you smiled and walked over. He seemed to notice the swaying of your hips and the tone of your voice, what you wanted and he groaned.

“Kitten we can’t” he covered his eyes with his hand and laid his head back on the chair. “Can’t what, I just wanted to see you Oppa” The sound that pulled out of his chest was sinful. Yoongi’s moan gave you the confidence to keep going. You took his hands and kissed them leaning over the back of his chair making him relax. Slowly letting your entwined hands drop behind him as casual as you possibly could, playing with his hands and moving them around so he didn’t expect anything odd. It didn’t take much as he couldn’t feel them against his wrist due to his thick hoodie but you cuffed him and then cuffed the cuffs to the chair. He heard the clicks and pulled against them.

“Take them off” He hissed looking at you unamused. These weren’t for playing these were from Namjoon’s work. You turned his chair and sank to your knees grinning up at him.

“Come on Oppa, we haven’t played together in ages” “Maybe if you stop going into labour” “It’s cause you make me feel so good” He was practically clawing at the chair to get out of them, encouraging you to proceed. He was telling you in great detail why this was a bad idea, but that didn’t last long. As soon as you had him in your hand his words caught in his throat and his mouth ran dry.

“You know the safe word, you can use it if you need to” He watched you looking up through your lashes at his expression, he liked the anticipation. You parted your lips and let out a small puff of warm air, it made him twitch.

“Don’t play with me baby, Fuck the safe word, you can’t hurt me” He scoffed, his face was mocking you. “I can do whatever I want to cause you can’t stop me” You went to take him in your mouth and pulled back again “Actually perhaps we shouldn’t do this I mean...”

You pressed your thumb firmly across the head of his penis making his stomach muscles jump. “You obviously don’t want this” Completely playing the dominant role. You saw his brow tick and his mouth fall open he was pissed. Languidly stroking his member, the desire to give him everything he wanted. This time, however, you wanted to be in control. squeezing him gently he took a sharp breath before exhaling a strong moan.

He huffed beads of sweat across his brow. Deciding to speak to him completely in English, “You know I think you would look better wearing this, Mister Min” Pulling out a blindfold and he shook his head “Don’t you dare” Slipping it over his head he squirmed and tried to get it off. “You are going to be punished after this kitten, I am going to take you over my knee and spank you until you can’t sit down”

You took him in your mouth sucking hard before pulling away completely. He was trying to hold it in and you grinned repeating this action a few times, he was painfully hard and as you breathed hot air gently against him you watched pre-cum dribble from the tip. His cock bouncing ever so slightly with the beat of his heart.

“Ahhh stop messing with me or I will” You firmly squeezed his thick length and grinned at the noise he made. “Or you will what?” Taking him into your mouth and bringing him to the edge listening to the way he breathed and panted he was so close. Pulling off of him with a wet pop. “It’s getting late Yoongi, I need to go start dinner”

“Don’t you dare” He shouted, you didn’t leave the room but you did open and shut the door waiting silently “I know you didn’t leave, If you let me out now I won’t punish you, kitten, Kitten I got work to do, come on let me out”

Opening and closing the door again he perked up as you walked over, “You need to get me out of this” “You know the safe word use it” “No, I won’t back out like a little bitch” he growled “I want to get out of these and bend you over my desk.

“That sounds nice but I don’t want to do that” Sinking to your knee’s you spent half an hour bringing him to the edge of his release and then stopping he was squirming in his computer chair when it slipped past his lips. “Please, just let me cum” You smiled around his dick swirling your tongue around the head, you ignored him continuing the slow torture from the start. Turning on your phone to record him begging. “Please just let me cum kitten I need this, Please oh fuck. Please. Please it hurts”

You pulled off his blindfold and smiled up at him “What do you want me to do?” “I need you to make me cum, please” you brought him to ecstasy once and he whimpered actually whimpered throwing himself back in the seat trying to move away. But that over stimulation was how you got him to cum a second time “Too much, fuck ahh too sensitive kitten I can’t”

Paying you back tenfold. It was your anniversary weekend and the kids were at their grandparents or asleep in their cots. Your hands and feet had been tied to the bed and Yoongi made sure to tell the boys they were allowed to everything but let you finish. They took turns you spent the whole day in bed only allowed to take toilet and lunch breaks.

By the third day, you were looking for any way out. “Jimin imagine if I came right now it would be so powerful after two days of waiting. I bet it would be really nice” “Yeah it would but Yoongi would have us both in chastity belts” He laughed cumming inside of you with a groan all the talk had him spent. You were filled with their essence and they weren’t letting any of it go to waste.

When you finally came, it was with his permission. He made you count down from thirty and began thrusting hard into you. If you came before thirty whatever number you were on would be the number of times Yoongi would receive a back rub. You didn’t want to tell him you would gladly give him a massage whenever he wished. They were all watching and sadly you broke at four.

Yoongi finally seemed comfortable with the idea of being intimate with you, but boy was he in for a shock when March came around. You were laying on a makeshift bed in the recording booth. There was a sound he wanted to record. He was trying to elicit a moan from you and when he got it he rewarded you. You frowned and his face dropped “no kitten you didn’t, please tell me this is a joke”

“I’m sorry honey the baby is coming today” you winced and he ran to grab some towels. You had an easy birth, one of the easiest so far because the baby was so small. “Everyone welcome our second daughter to the family her name is Kim Mirae and her English name is Mila June”

You had picked her middle name and made it the same sound as her father's name. The children all met their baby sister, Huimang was too little to understand.

“If someone gets you pregnant before this child turns two I will actually cut their dick off” Yoongi sighed “Papa Joo did Adar Yoogi day a bad word” “Yes baby, he did” Namjoon ruffled Jae Eun’s hair while glaring at Yoongi. “Are you happy papa Joon?” Jeongsan asked and Namjoon smiled “Very happy”

Things slowed down, Namjoon took a little time off work to be with his daughter for the first few weeks. He loved Mirae greatly. He would just talk to her for hours about anything they shared so many secrets. He had on more than one occasion tried to put nappies on backwards which was always amusing. Kyungju had just finished first grade and Jeongsan would be heading off to school when the term started again in the following year. You weren’t ready to see them all growing up.

Hoseok had Huimang and you had Mirae strapped to your chests. You were doing some light aerobic dancing. Jungkook had been pushing you at the gym to strengthen all your muscles in your tummy. You didn’t want your muscles to separate so you tried hard to keep yourself strong.

The boys and yourself had been super careful, all being very safe as you didn’t want to get pregnant any time soon. The schedule was booked for your live tour. You were performing at a few theatres around the world. Starting in Seoul your stage was set up to look like your recording room. Your guest was NCT. Jiyong followed you on tour with his family and helped watch the kids while you were on stage.

But you never stopped your children from joining you. On many occasions, they would have a small lapel mic and pack courtesy of the stagehands and they would run out. “Adar, Jeongsan needs to go to the bathroom” Kyungju led his younger brother out by the hand. “JK to the rescue” Hoseok laughed heartily and the crowd joined in.

While Jungkook was gone, you opened up questions Femme’s stepped up onto the stage and they asked you questions. “I was unfrozen a week ago and I have been watching your videos from the start, I am not far through them so you probably have already mentioned it but, what do you do to cope with homesickness”

“That’s a really good question, I cried a lot always thinking about everything my family wouldn’t get to see, and that’s perfectly okay to cry and be upset over. My wedding and the birth of my beautiful children all I wanted was to have that support from my family. Until one day I realised I had been shutting the boys out and I needed to open up, I needed to face my fears. I remember the dream I had and they all sang to me asking me what I was looking for and where I was going. I didn’t realise the whole time I was with them I was looking back at my past and not at the present and future. And when I finally looked forward I saw the support from them and their families, my friends and neighbours. There were just so many people, even online there were people standing with me. We are never alone. Which brings us to a really important announcement all the Femme’s here will leave with a care package from me to you we need to support one another”

The tour went amazing and there was enough footage for you to make a tour special which was posted on the latest movie streaming platform Fletnix.

Watching Eric and the TXT boys grow up and go to university you were so proud. Hyuna and Hyojong had actually gotten engaged and were the cutest couple. The Frozen Spoon had become iconic, with the increased revenue, you became the area manager of two stores, each store had a picture of Moon Inshik the founder and beside it a little plaque with his story.

Namjoon’s old friend Jackson and his 6 fellow applicants were celebrating their Femme who announced she was pregnant with a little girl. The young girls whom you met at the park had slowly graduated high school and reached full maturity, three joined the Femme Project, one of them found matches, two were frozen and the fourth decided to put in an application for a femme herself.

She had been denied over thirteen times but she was still persisting with her application. Until she found her perfect match.

Femme Media 45

[Next chapter]

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a-marlene-s · 5 years

Text

La Red: Part 4

If anyone is interested or want to support my writing feel to drop by. https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s

Second Chance…

Second Chance.

There are so many chances Marinette could give before she loses how many eff’s she could give about her class now. Except for Sabrina and to some extension, Chole as the bespectacled teen had more or less told the Mayor’s daughter of her past. Just enough so that Chole will not kick up a massive fuss once she returns from her trip with her mother.

Even so, Marinette is alone and needs to start putting the plan into action. The first step is to take a step back and evaluate the situation. That situation is, of course, being one Lila Rossi and her never-ending lies. Attacking the lies directly resulted in her being alienated from the class and Marinette needed to go about it differently. There was no way she is going to take Adrien’s advice. Sabrina made it clear and managed to get into her own mind, that Adrien is someone that she could no longer consider a friend.

Adrien made it loud and clear that her own feelings did not matter, that he made her feel like no one. The no one that Lila is not hurting with her constant lies. Marinette does not need that. What she needs are people that could stand by her, not push her around and force them to comply with the demands of others.

So, when Marinette took her seat in the back of the classroom and ignored Adrien as he too took a seat next to her. Adrien attempted to gain Marinette’s attention, but nothing was working, he needed to talk to her to make sure she sticks with no longer bothering Lila anymore. But no matter how much he tired, to the point of trying to tap on her shoulder, Marinette should move away from her in favor of texting with someone on her phone.

“Marinette?” Adrien said, once again trying to get Marinette’s attention.

“Did you know Jagged put on a poll on his twitter? ‘What’s your favorite animal to have as a pet?’” Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle to herself when she saw Adrien pale at the corner of her eye. “I can’t decide between dog, hamster or Fang.”

“Marinette… did you talk to Jagged about Lila?” Adrien did not bother to hide his accusatory tone from her. It appeared she was not taking the high road.

“Me? Not talking to Jagged? He commissioned me to do some work for him.” Marinette did not look away from her phone. “Are you insinuating I shouldn’t talk to him? About future work?”

For his own part, Adrien recoiled. Oh, how he had temporarily forgotten that Marinette knew Jagged personally and did some work for him. But to personally have his number… and in constant contact with him. “Have you-”

Luckily for Adrien, the teacher walked into the class, announcing they are going to do group projects.

---

❀❀ Mari ❀❀: It’s just that… there’s this new girl at my school, saying that you supposedly have a cat?

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: Really? What kind of stuff is that? Please tell me you don’t believe her, I don’t even like cats. Too mainstream and dangerous to have around Fang. Plus, with Penny’s allergies towards animal fur makes it right down impossible to have one.

Marinette knew two sides to Jagged Stone. The one that he shows to the world, the rock star, and the human behind the mask. If there was one thing, she could easily count on with Jagged is his ability to temporarily drop his façade when the times come for it. He’s being really serious about Lila’s lies that concern him and Penny to an extension.

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: Whenever we have people come backstage, our guards check out of they have been in contact with any sort of animals. Otherwise, we’d make sure Penny doesn’t go near them and I have to steer clear of her after the meet and greet. So not cool with what she is saying. Just say the word and I’ll come by for a visit to clear things up!

❀❀ Mari ❀❀: Don’t come until I say so, I want to keep the fact I know you on the down low right up the time to reveal it…. That and I need to finish your commission.

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: That’s my girl!

---

Bugaboo2: He tried to make me not contact Jagged! I know the guy. He perfectly knew I know the man and I do commissions for him. Did he really expect me not to talk to him about what has been happening???

Little-Miss-Understood: I told you he’s not worth a second chance.

Bugaboo2: I know… It’s just that… I thought, never mind. He made it rather clear that he expects me to take the high road on this and to just roll over to comply with his wishes.

Little-Miss-Understood: Which you are not doing, I hope?

Bugaboo2: No! God no, I am sticking to the plan. He lost his second chance the moment he did not bother to take my feelings into consideration about Lila. What did you manage to pick up on the others?

Little-Miss-Understood: …not good. Lila has a very, firm grip on many of them. The only ones that show promise are Nino, Alix, Ivan and Max. The others a too far gone into Lila’s lies.

Bugaboo2: Really?

Little-Miss-Understood: Nino is following Alya and doing whatever to appease her. He has tried to talk to Alya about her behavior but gets shut down rather quickly about it and Adrien isn’t exactly encouraging his friend to seek the truth either. Alix was never promised anything through Lila’s lies. She simply is skirting around the crowd and never really putting up too much input. Ivan, similar to Nino, he’s following Mylene. Max is an expert in computers not when it comes to humans. Everyone else in the class… we have better luck convincing Alya Ladybug hates her blog than convincing them about Lila’s lies.

Bugaboo2: Understood…. Thank you.”

Little-Miss-Understood: You are welcome. At this point, you need to make a line in the sand and figure out what you are going to do with Alya. Out of everyone in the class, she is the one you need to completely be on board on cutting all ties with her. Lila has her claws gripped tightly to her that Alya will believe everything she says and will defend it to her very last breath.

Bugaboo2: That is what I am afraid of.

---

It was one thing to be around Alya when they are at school, but it is a completely different thing once they are Akuma-fighting superheroes protecting Paris from Hawkmoth. Ladybug needed to reevaluate Rena Rouge and see if her personal life is interfering with her hero work. At first, things were going okay. Nothing out of the norm.

Rena Rouge still being Rena Rouge, if she keeps this up then maybe she still has a chance. Ladybug hopes Rena will be able to separate her civilian life from her hero one. At this point, this could be the only way she could trust her.

Waving good-bye to Chat Noir after taking down another Akuma and it was time to separate ways before the last beep of their miraculous.

“Ladybug!”

‘Right now, she is not Alya. She is Rena Rouge.’ Ran though Ladybug’s mind as she turned around to see Rena running up to her. Rena’s miraculous began to beep, possibly be the beginning of the end. “Yes, Rena?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me how exactly you decide on who becomes a hero?” Rena asked she didn’t bother to hide her excitement let alone that knowing glint in her eyes. “Who receives a miraculous?”

Ladybug took in a deep breath and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. Suspicion began to fill her mind as she knew that familiar glint meant. She had seen it many times before and the outcomes of that glint always got Alya in trouble. “I am not the one who fully decides on who receives a miraculous.”

“But you could put in a good word for someone, right?” Rena asked she bounces on the ball of her feet waiting for Ladybug to confirm her thoughts. “Like with myself?”

Beep.

“More or less but… yes.” Ladybug nearly grounded out, she so did not want to have his conversation with her. She suspects that Rena knows who is Carapace, so that takes Nino of the list of who could be a possible future miraculous holder. “I pick people who I believe we, Chat Noir and I, could fight alongside with. People who have the heart of a hero.”

“Have you thought of having someone else helping us? You know, just in case if we need backup?” Rena did not miss a beat. “Giving Chole a miraculous was a very bad idea. You could have given it to someone else like…. Lila! Your best friend.”

Beep.

Ladybug sucked in a deep breath, who she needed to steer this conversation elsewhere. “Chole… Queen Bee has shown progress in being a hero for Paris. Yes, she still needs some work, but she is getting there. As for Lila… it’s a no.”

Beep.

“No? Why not?” Rena questioned; her entire posture turned defensive. “She’s your best friend, right? Why don’t you consider her as a possible backup…?”

Beep. Where Rena Rouge once was, now stood Alya Cesaire who is still ranting.

Ladybug did not bother to listen to whatever else Alya attempted to argue that Lila would become a stupendous Hero. She managed to get a word in when she saw Alya took in a deep breath to continue with her argument. “What about Marinette? She would make a stupendous hero.”

Alya did not bother to hide a snort of disgruntlement. “Like she’ll even have the time to be a hero. Don’t tell me she is filling your head with lies about Lila. Marinette is jealous of Lila, who by the way, is your best friend!”

“Are you insinuating that Marinette Dapain-Cheng is brainwashing me about Lila Rossi?”

“Yes!”

“You’re fired. Give me back your miraculous.” Ladybug finally said, extending her arm out for Alya to give her back the Fox Miraculous.

“Wh-what?”

“I gave you a second chance and you blew it.”

---

Nino did not know what Alya was telling him through the phone. He had just finished helping his mom at the family’s food mart. Nothing out of the norm for him. It brought in a sense of relief for him from constantly having to run around Alya who is constantly running after Ladybug or helping Ladybug… it’s a never-ending cycle. Then there are the fact things are becoming to become tense ever since Lila transferred into their school.

Alya became obsess with Lila to the point it is becoming a constant strain in their relationship. Either Alya is following or helping Ladybug, following Lila and when they do manage to find some sort of time to date, they both must babysit their younger siblings. There were times that he actually preferred to stay home to take care of Chris than to go out after a long day, more so to not get in trouble with his mom. He had to bribe Chris to not spill the beans that Marinette has been babysitting him to oppose himself.

Marinette… Nino felt uneasy with how things were going for her in and out of school. Every time he attempted to say something, Alya, Lila and even Adrien will quarrel down his doubts about her supposed attitude towards Lila’s words. Of course, he’s not exactly innocent on the entire matter, he knows he plays a part to it and those doubts are once again rising as Alya cried through the phone.

“What do you mean, you got fired?” Nino had to lower down his voice as he walked past a random couple. What was said next caused Nino to physically and mentally take a step back. Is Alya blaming Marinette for what happened? How did that happen? Of course, he knew that Marinette had encountered Ladybug and Chat Noir from time to time, but to be in talking terms with Ladybug? To supposedly brainwash her about Lila. Nothing was making sense to him. No, the only way to make sense of things is to talk to Ladybug about what happened. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do.

Nino looked up into the sky wondering how he would start the search to look for Ladybug when he saw her swinging by. She is probably looking for a place to power down before her own timer goes off. Lucky for him, the street is clear, and no one was around to hear him shout out for her. “Ladybug!”

For her own part, Ladybug did take a pause to land in front of a randomly closed storefront before she turned around to the person that called out her name. From what he could see from his spot, Nino could see that Ladybug is trying really hard to not cry and putting up a strong front. “Is something wrong? Another Akuma attack?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Nino measured his steps when he walked up to her. “Could we talk?”

“We are talking right now.” Ladybug pointed out.

“As Nino… not as…” Nino trailed off, he had reached up to pull on his cap to make a certain point with her. “To not raise suspicion. I just want to talk about is all.”

Ladybug looked away from Nino, chewing on her bottom lip wondering if she should talk to him. Then she remembered her plan and promise. She has yet to give Nino his own second chance. His own second chance is not connected to Alya’s own decisions, he is own person and thus, she needed to know where he stood in all this massive mess. With that in mind…

“We’ll talk during patrol tonight.”

---

“Does anyone bother to ask me about Lila? No one does! Alya… oh, Alya…” Ladybug does not know what got into her when she started to tell Carapace everything, well almost everything, on what has been happening to her. Mainly going over how Lila’s lies have been affecting her. She could later chalk it up to the fact that she and Nino were once close friends before life got the better of them. That and she really wanted to get it off her chest that is not Tikki. There are so many cookies she could bribe the little kwami so that she would not do something her own self. “She claims to be a good reporter who always verifies her sources, she never bothered to ask me if her supposed reports are true? No. She does not. Everything Lila has ever said about me is…”

Carapace rubbed his forehead as he took in Ladybug’s words. Oh, he should have seen this coming. He should have seen this coming from who knows how long ago. From the way Ladybug is describing Alya, it makes his girlfriend sound like Lady Wifi. Someone that will stop at nothing to update the Ladyblog with the next best thing, without even caring on how she gets the information.

“To top it all off… Lila had nearly caused me-Marinette to get Akumatized.” Ladybug huddled into herself, whispering out the word more to herself than to Carapace.

“What?” Carapace could not hide his shock at the news that he didn’t even take note of Ladybug’s slight slip up. “Marinette nearly got Akumatized? When? How? Is she okay?”

Ladybug looked away from Carapace in favor to look out into the city. They ended up on some random rooftop that overlooked the city. “At this point, it is hard to say. She confided to me what Lila has been saying and doing against her.”

“What has she been doing against Marinette?” Carapace asked from his spot on the roof. He knew he should not allow his emotions to get the best of him. That would only invite Hawkmoth to bring in more trouble whenever it is not necessary. “Ladybug, what has Lila been doing against Marinette?”

“…It’s not my story to say, I’m sorry. If you want to know more, you have to ask Marinette yourself.”

---

Marinette groaned into her hands as she paced around her room. She really messed up tonight. Really messed up. She said faaar too much to Carap-no, to Nino. She said far too much to Nino about what has been happening to her.

What if he did not believe her?

What if he will once again get entrap by Lila’s lies?

What if-

Tikki, for her own part, could only shake her head as she had her fill with cookies. She felt bad for Marinette but knew that what was said could not be undone. At least she did not stop Nino from continuing his work as a Miraculous Wieldier at this point. Maybe there is still some hope for him? Time will tell at this point.

Marinette’s phone rang, causing the teen to trip over her own two feet. She quickly went over to her desk where she was charging her phone to see an incoming call… from Alya.

Taking in a deep breath, she answered the call and waited for whatever Alya wanted to complain about this time.

“NINO BROKE UP WITH ME BECAUSE OF YOU!!!!”

Marinette pulled her phone away from her ear to see who exactly she is talking to. Once seeing it is Alya that is calling her, she put the phone up to her ear once more. Alya continued with her yelling on with blaming her now former best friend onto why she was blaming her for the breakup. All of which is a load of bull. Lots of it.

“Alya… Alya… Alya…” Marinette began to lose her patience with the girl on the other line. It got to the point she simply allowed Alya to scream while Marinette pulled up her messenger app to text Sabrina.

Bugaboo2: Alya and Nino just broke up. She’s blaming me because of it.

Little-Miss-Understood: I know, she created a group chat to ‘discuss’ about it with all the girls minus you. Luckily for you, Rose once witnessed them arguing about one thing or another ever since Lila came into the picture. She believes that it was something that was bound to happen is Alya is looking for any excuse to blame anyone but herself.

Bugaboo2: Really? Rose…?

Little-Miss-Understood: I may or may not have something to do with that…. Did you have anything to do with the breakup? Just wondering.

Bugaboo2: I…. I’ll text you later. Alya is losing her voice.

Little-Miss-Understood: She’s calling you?

Bugaboo2: More like screaming.

Little-Miss-Understood: Please tell me you are recording this.

Bugaboo2: What do you take me for? I’ll send you a copy late tonight. Plus, depending on how tonight goes, I may have gained a friend back.

Little-Miss-Understood: Keep me informed.

Marinette closed the app before she put the phone by her ear once more. “Are you done?”

“What the hell does that supposed to mean!!!!”

“I haven’t talked to Nino in weeks. Weeks.” Marinette didn’t bother to hold back a hiss. “Every time I’ve ever seen him is when he’s spending time together with you or Adrien. I never could even say hi to him before you drag him to who knows what. Stop blaming me for something that is completely out of my control. Maybe you’d spend less time gossiping with Lila, you would have seen the massive train wreck that’s coming your way.”

Without even waiting for a response, Marinette hung up on Alya. She was so tempted in throwing her phone against the wall in frustration but the last time she did that, she almost hit Tikki. That was the last time she ever threw anything in her room. Along with having to make several trips down into the bakery to grab cookies Tikki and many, many apologies afterward. Yeah… not her greatest moments to date.

Marinette was about to put her phone back to charge when another call was coming in. Muttered under her breath, wondering who is calling her this time. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw it was Nino who is calling her. Looking over at Tikki, who had by now taken refuge somewhere under the bed, peaked under the covers to motion her to pick up on the call when she saw Marinette’s look of complete distress.

Answering the call made Marinette wince as silence was the only thing she heard. “Hello…? Nino?”

“I take it Alya called you?” Nino asked from the other side of the line.

Oh, she is going to need to sit down for this. “I did. She is blaming me because you two broke up. What happened?”

“I… I need… How do I say this…?”

Marinette could tell that Nino is struggling with whatever he wanted to say with her by a massive long shot. There was a long pause between them. It wasn’t awkward or felt completely out of place. It was just giving someone enough time to gather their thoughts before they say what was needed to be said.

“How was your day today? How are you feeling?” Nino asked.

Marinette could hear Nino cursing at himself for not saying what he actually wanted to say. “I no longer have a best friend; she thinks I brainwashed her now ex-boyfriend and is not talking crap about me to someone that threatened me… yeah. Not so good.”

Pause…

“Could we meet tomorrow? I don’t want to say I’m sorry through the phone, I rather say it in person.”

“You just said, ‘I’m sorry’ just right now and I accept your apology.”

“Marinette… I swear you’re too good of a person for any of us. I’m serious. I want to hear your side of what’s been going on without anyone interfering.”

“Promise not to judge or jump to conclusions?”

“I’ll listen. I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

“Alright. Tomorrow.” Marinette agreed before she hung up. She looked up at her ceiling, wondering who she is going to face Nino tomorrow. Lucky for them, tomorrow is a Sunday and classes. Or maybe that’s a bad thing… no, it’s good. The last thing she wants is to face Alya tomorrow for something that might as well be her own doing.

Marinette could not help shaking her head at the thought. She’s going to have to talk to Nino about the breakup tomorrow. To see what happened and what broke the camel’s back on their relationship. She wanted to feel bad but at the same time, she does not feel bad about what happened. At now she could honestly say, she possibly gained back a friend that is more than willing to stand by her side during this tiring time.

#La Red #Part 4 #ML #ML Salt #Lila Salt #Alya Salt #miraculous ladybug #Fanfic #Au

186 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 5 years

Text

One for the Memories

Category: Friendship Fluff, Comedy, Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Lucy Heartfilia, Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, and Lyon Vastia

Requested By: Ella (Ao3)

To be honest, Lucy was quite unsure what to think as she stood beside Gray and Juvia in the secluded office where the Master had requested to speak privately with them. It wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary if it were Natsu and Gray, maybe Erza too, considering how destructive the lot of them were and Lucy usually normally ended up being dragged into the scolding after their latest escapade, but she had to admit that the ice mage and the water mage were an odd pair. The two of them seemed not to have the same considerations; Juvia was purring with delight as she hung on the muscle of Gray’s upper arm and whispering sweet nothings with the occasional intense glare in Lucy’s direction, while the object of her affections was attempting to pry her cheek from his arm and grimacing in embarrassment. When the Master appeared with a slight cough, the attention of the three was captured, eager to learn what the old man had summoned them together for.

“A very nice opportunity for the guild has presented itself. The nationally-renowned Sorcerer Magazine has requested a photoshoot of the three of you that will be the main feature of the next issue,” he explained, and Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. Model-quality beauties like Mirajane were featured in the magazine quite often, but this was the first time Lucy had been afforded the opportunity; for a brief second she swelled with pride with the thought of It’s about time! before her heart slammed into her ribcage as it came to a screeching halt; Lucy had never modeled before, and that unnerved her. Juvia and Gray seemed unperturbed; Gray was his usual indifferent self, even deigning to groan about what a useless venture it was, while Juvia squealed and hearts beat in her eyes at the thought of being in a photoshoot with her darling ice mage. When she realized that Lucy was also to be featured though, she peered around his front with a low grumble.

“Stay away from my darling Gray, love rival.” Lucy had gotten quite used to Juvia’s accusations and her teeter-totter attitude; when it came down to it, Juvia would back her up in tough situations, and that’s all that mattered. Still, it was a bit tiring to constantly be accused of harboring feelings for the man when she had nothing of the sort.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Juvia.”

“What?! How dare you insult Gray! Take it back!” Lucy just rolled her eyes as steam poured from the water-woman’s ears, and focused on what the hell she was going to do about the modeling shoot.

They met the photographer the next day at the train station. They had been informed that a member from another guild would be also part of the modeling shoot, and while Gray ran around with a lovestruck Juvia chasing him around in circles leaving little hearts in her wake, Lucy wondered who it could be. There were a number of heartthrobs, both male and female, in the guild world, many of whom she had met during the Grand Magic Games just a few weeks before. As her mind flew through the many possibilities, she did not notice the train arrive and the last member of their quartet arrive until the photographer gleefully shouted, “Cool, cool, now everyone is here!”

“What?!” Gray and the newly-arrived Lyon shouted in unison and pointed at each other with the color draining from their faces. Gray continued to stare with his mouth agape and eye twitching, while his rival in ice magic quickly regained his composure and sidled over to Juvia with ice swirling in his hand to form a fluttering dove.

“My darling Juvia, how lovely it is to see you again~”

“Ugh, I’m going to spend all day trapped in some twisted love triangle,” Lucy muttered under her breath as Juvia proceeded to jump behind Gray and peer at Lyon with waves of refusal rolling off her; Lyon deflated with a defeated sigh, the dove fluttering off as if it did not witness the crushing rejection before dissolving into sparkling ice. The photographer was blissfully unaware of the love being thrown around the train station; with another gleeful, “Cool, cool!” he jumped between the troop of wizards and announced that they would soon board the train for their photoshoot destination.

Once they were settled into their booth and trying to ignore the messy love tangle that was still unfolding around her, Lucy decided to approach the photographer with the questions that had been burning on her tongue all the while.

“Where will the photoshoot be held?”

“Oh, yes, yes! We’ll be visiting a town nearby called Crystalwake! It’s one of the most famous vacation spots in the entire country, known for its crystalline shores and crystal-clear waters!” he announced with almost too much enthusiasm. Lucy couldn’t help but mirror it, clasping her hands together with an excited squeal while her brown eyes sparkled like the diamond lights playing across the famous waters of the aforementioned beach town.

“Really?! Crystalwake? Oh, I’ve always wanted to go there!” she trilled as she squirmed excitedly in her seat, a scowl gradually deepening on both Gray and Juvia’s faces as her body rubbed up against his. She distinctly heard Gray mumble, “What’s the big deal?” while Lyon was once again trying to shoot his shot at Juvia and falling utterly short. The venue had been featured multiple times across many magazines in all sorts of contexts, and Lucy thought it was simply the perfect spot for a photoshoot because it was so incredibly romantic. Once that word sprouted in her brain, however, her blissful train of thought came to a screeching halt in its tracks and she looked at the photographer with acute confusion and a slightly perceptible level of fear. “Wait, what kind of photoshoot is this?”

“I am so glad you asked! Last issue, Sorcerer Magazine polled its readers concerning their favorite couples or potential couples within Fairy Tail with the caveat that they would be featured in a special photoshoot, and there were two that were overwhelmingly popular!” Instantly, Lucy was even more perplexed; people pinning Gray and Juvia as a couple wasn’t exactly surprising, but the fact that people could see her with Lyon, whom she had only had limited contact with, was quite exceptional. She would have thought for sure that she would be paired with Natsu, her actual team partner! “The top votes were Lucy and Gray, and Lyon and Juvia!” If her train of thought had come to a screeching halt before, it totally derailed this time. The entire train car became a symphony of their deranged screeches of disbelief; the mildly puzzled photographer just sat there blinking with the smile still on his lips as they all jumped to their feet and began screaming together in one frightening harmony.

“What? There’s no way that I can let my love rival be in a photoshoot with my Gray! Cancel it! And I want to know what crazy people even consider Lucy and Gray a couple!” Juvia shrieked, actually becoming fluid around the edges as she worked herself up to a near-boiling point.

“Juvia’s right! There must be some mistake! Me and Gray? I mean, who would think that up?” Lucy cried, mostly out of fear of retaliation if she expressed the fact that she was actually relieved to be paired with the ice mage that she actually knew.

“What the hell does that mean, Lucy?” Gray frowned and leaned down over her to peer into her face with his eyebrows narrowed accusingly. Lucy flushed red, both out of his proximity and the fact that she had upset him with her hasty comment.

“I-I mean, of course I like you, Gray-“

“Love rival!” Juvia shrieked, her curling blue hair nearly whipping about like snakes as she dissolved further into fluid form, and the Celestial wizard hurriedly whipped around to laugh nervously and wave her hands in a dismissive gesture.

“No, Juvia, that isn’t what I meant-“

“So you do want to do a photoshoot with me?” Gray asked with a devilish grin and his chin tilted up in a challenging gesture. Lucy deflated like a balloon as she took the assault on two sides. This is turning out to be a much bigger pain than I thought!

“I get to be in a photoshoot with Juvia! <3” Lyon howled as he clapped his hands giddily together, obviously the only one happy with the way that things had turned out. The photographer somehow managed to convince the fiery water wizard that the pairing would have to stay so as not to disappoint the readers, but it had been Gray quipping that Juvia needed to make her fans happy to finally get her to agree with the fact; still, the entire train ride to the beach, she was obviously seething with displeasure beside Lyon, who was giving off a bright aura of one who had achieved enlightenment and ascended to the astral plane.

Needless to say, Lucy’s head was hammering with headache by the time they stepped off the train.

Despite the twist of events, Lucy could not help but be cheered by the vacation spot’s atmosphere. The train station was open to the elements, allowing the salty breeze to waft in and kiss the soft skin of her bare arms and legs and leave and aftertaste on her lips as she strolled with the photoshoot party across the wooden planks that made up the boardwalk-like structure. The roof was simply a cloth pavilion made of thick fabric that flapped in the ever-present winds rolling off the waves she could hear crashing in the near distance. As they walked out from beneath the shade, the sun was there to greet her, offering her an embrace of its warm rays. Her headache was all but erased as she ran down the boardwalk to behold the famous shore, and as she leaned over the wooden railings with a hand to her eyes to take in the majesty of the beach, no magazine picture could have ever prepared her for its brilliance. It took her breath away.

The white sands stretched on in either direction for miles and miles, each individual grain sparkling like a shard of crystal as the sun’s bright rays struck its prism-like surface. The water was a shimmering cerulean, fading into sapphire as the depth increased towards the horizon; above the gently lapping waves, the sky was cloudless and brilliantly blue, the sun hovering at its highest point to bathe the beachgoers in its tanning streams. Gray and Lyon even seemed captivated by its majesty, and Juvia was able to forgo her ire to stand beside Lucy with her breath caught in her throat and her eyes drinking in every detail, watching the sailboats stream across the water leaving frothing wake behind. It’s so beautiful…

The photographer wasted no time in preparing them for the shoot. Soon after arriving, Lucy was standing with her toes in the surprisingly soft sand clad in a white bikini patterned with golden stars and a crescent moon curling across the left side of her chest, as an ode to her Celestial magic. Lyon and Gray were both in swim trunks that were inversions of each other, two-toned blues, while Juvia wore a stylish one-piece of misty blue-white with plunging sides filled in with tied strings and wave-like patterns trawling across the front. They were quite a tastefully clothed bunch, and though a large section of the beach had been partitioned off for the photoshoot, they were still attracting a large amount of attention from passersby. Lucy wanted to bask in the praise, maybe strike a suave pose or two, but her mind had returned to the fact that she had never done anything to the sort and worrying over that fact. She wanted to look beautiful, not like an awkward fool, after all. She silently fretted as the photographer began to give directions.

“All right! First, we’ll shoot some scenes in the water. We’ll start with Lucy and Gray. Will you two go about knee-deep in the water, please?”

“This is a pain,” Gray grunted as he accompanied Lucy out into the surf. She wasn’t sure why, because she was painfully used to seeing Gray half-naked running around in his boxers at this point, but her eyes navigated to his sculpted abs and his defined arm muscles; her words became a hard lump in her throat, preventing her from replying. It was undeniable that Gray was an eye-catching guy; how had she not noticed before now? He definitely noticed her lack of response and looked at her with a frown, making her jump violently and send water droplets skittering about as she reflexively slapped her hands against the water. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am not!” she refuted with red cheeks, which didn’t really make her argument all that strong. She blushed darker as he went to get in her face again, but thankfully that was interrupted by the photographer.

“Okay, cool, cool, that’s a good distance!” Lucy crossed her arms uncomfortably and turned away from Gray, but she didn’t want to necessarily look at the shore either because Juvia was currently trying to melt Lucy with her mere eyeballs. She focused instead at the water swirling around her upper calves; she could see straight through to the bottom like she was staring at liquid glass. Some seashells were half-buried in the sand around her, scallops and cats’ eyes and swirling drills and murexes; one of them was currently occupied by a little hermit crab who was doing his best to scuttle against the current. “A-ha! I’ve got it! Gray, take Lucy in your arms!”

“What?” Lucy gasped and looked at him incredulously, then screamed as her feet were suddenly swept out from under her. Within an instant she was being held securely in Gray’s arms; he looked blankly at the photographer.

“Like this?”

“Perfect! Cool, cool! Now, Lucy, put your arms around his neck.” Uncertainly, Lucy circled his neck with her arms, feeling highly uncomfortable with the entire thing. I probably look like an idiot… she lamented silently as she felt her face burning, but tried to convince herself it was the intensity of the sun’s rays. “Great! Now, try to seem like a loving couple, please~” he twittered like a gull as he flapped about on the shoreline, the shutter of his camera already clicking wildly. Gray turned his pointed gaze on her, a hint of a smile on his lips and all manner of sexy; Lucy was highly certain she looked like a fish gasping for breath. “Lucy, dear, please try to look a little more relaxed!”

“Easier said than done,” she huffed, not realizing she had done so out loud.

“Come on, Lucy, lighten up. You said you wanted to come to this place, right? Forget about the camera and just pretend we’re having fun,” he smiled at her. Lucy puffed out her cheeks defiantly at him, but honestly forgot the camera in that instant because she was too focused on refuting him.

“Come on, Gray! I’m not Mirajane! This stuff doesn’t just come naturally to me!”

“Why not? You’re as beautiful as Mirajane.” Lucy’s previously derailed train of thought shot off into the sky, breaking through the atmosphere at the words that had just so easily slipped from Gray’s lips. He was smirking up at her, but she could not tell if he was serious or teasing; all the same, she could not keep the blissful smile from gracing her own mouth.

“You mean that?” The photographer’s cheers of “Cool, cool!” were lost on her as she bathed in the sun and Gray’s compliment. He nodded, and she could feel his fingers twirling through her long tresses of blonde hair, which she had decided to let fly free for the modeling gig. Lucy’s smile grew bright enough to rival the sun above, and the hint of pink that graced her cheeks was now a tint of joy. “Thanks, Gray.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he suddenly grinned wildly, and her scream was swallowed by the seawater as he abruptly dunked her into the ocean. She landed on her butt against the bottom, startling the hermit crab and sending him feverishly scurrying out towards deeper, safer water; as the current swirled in her ears, she could faintly hear Gray’s raucous howls of laughter. She came up spitting the foul salt water and glaring at him through stinging red eyes. “You should have seen the look on your face!” he cackled while holding his belly.

“You jerk!” she shouted and jumped up to push him roughly in his chest. She successfully disbalanced him and sent him down in a similar fashion; water streamed through his dark hair as he came up coughing, but before he could launch another attack on her, she splashed him in the face and started scampering back to shore.

“Come back here! I’m not through with you!” he growled and yanked her back by the ankle. She belly-flopped into the surf with a surprised yelp, and was dragged across the bottom before she was pulled up so Gray could put her in a headlock and started roughly ruffling her hair.

“Ow! Ow! Gray!” she cried, but the laughter made its way into her voice. Her limbs flapped about wildly as she tried to escape his grasp, and managed to loosen it just enough to turn around in his grip to start beating him in the side of the head. In that effort, though, they became disbalanced together and she ended up on top of him, legs on either side of his waist with his hands wrapped around her waist, water streaming off their bodies like one hundred waterfalls.

“Perfect! Cool, cool! You two are naturals!” the photographer was screeching in near mania, the shutter clicking as fast as his finger would allow without falling off. Lucy was panting with exertion as she sat atop Gray, and when she finally realized what she was doing and how borderline erotic of a position she was in, she squeaked and hastily scrambled off him. It was too late, though; she had already earned Juvia’s wrath, and no sooner than the water mage had stomped into the surf Lucy was blasted with a torrent of swirling water that sent her screeching into the deep blue. She came up several yards out, her hair plastered to her face and soaked from head to toe.

“Take that, love rival!”

Sighing in resignation, Lucy paddled back to the point to where she could walk and began waded back through the surf. Gray came to the edge of the sandbar to help her, which the photographer eagerly recorded much to Juvia’s disappointment; as Lucy reached out to take his hand she stumbled in the thick, mud-like sand and instinctively looked down, and came upon the terrifying realization that by some bizarre incidence Gray had lost his shorts. She screamed and snapped her hands to her eyes, seeing far too much by the grace of the famous crystalline water, while Gray freaked out and began looking around for his swim trunks and a very unamused photographer informed him that this was not that kind of photoshoot. Juvia had fainted and Lyon was trying to revive her with far too much joy at having the unconscious woman in his arms.

After Gray found his shorts it was time for Juvia and Lyon’s shoot, which mainly consisted of Lyon chasing a very unwilling Juvia through the surf that ironically looked like they were playing a consensual game of tag. After several more rounds of general poses and acts, it came time for the final photoset of Gray and Lucy’s. By then her mind had eased and she was putting little thought into how she looked; Gray had done a good job of boosting her confidence. This time they were directed to a setup of props- two towels that matched their outfits beneath a shady umbrella, with all the beachgoing amenities scattered about. They took a few benign ones at first, like on of Lucy on her belly with her legs pulled up and ankles crossed while she read a book, one of Gray staring out at the ocean waves with a popsicle hanging out of his mouth, one that the photographer happened to catch by chance when it fell out of his mouth into his lap and made Lucy laugh like a maniac next to him. Gray was still shaking the icy-cold popsicle drops off his legs when the photographer informed them that it was time to resume the couple act- and that’s how Lucy ended up underneath Gray, nose-to-nose and trying not to freak out. She could hear Lyon struggling to hold Juvia back from killing the photographer, but the Lucy was fixated on the man looming over her.

“Well, this is cozy,” he joked effortlessly, like he was unperturbed.

“Gray, how can you be so calm about this? People are going to see these photos, you know.” Though she was fine with the actual modeling now, it was still a little weird to be featured as one half of an item.

“Yeah, and? People are gonna talk regardless. Might as well give ‘em something to talk about.” Lucy rolled her eyes; he was much to dense to get it, apparently. Lucy had no care to be the topic of gossip, at least not in the sense that she was Gray’s potential lover. Gray shifted above her, and she sat up a little to help him get comfortable. She went suddenly stiff as he accidentally caught his finger in the loop of her bikini and nearly pulled the thing off, and she hastily flopped back against the towel as the flimsy fabric barely covered her modesty. It was only at this point that Gray blushed and sheepishly smiled, which totally would make it look like they were about to be getting up to some very naughty things in the photograph. Lucy’s face was afire and her eyes wide, which didn’t help the image. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Like hell you didn’t. You’re just teasing me at this point!” she accused. He ran a hand through his hair with a dour expression, and Lucy heard the shutter clicking frantically. We’re gonna be the talk of the whole country for years after this, she thought with a groan.

“Lucy, come on, I- oh shit!” As he was once again trying to shift on top of her, his hand slipped in the loose sand and he completely lost his leverage. The breath was knocked from Lucy’s body as he landed on top of her, which was a bad enough image in itself, but the divinities were seemingly having a ball at Lucy’s expense; Gray’s mouth landed right against hers; there was no mistaking the feeling of his lips. Worse, she had somehow grabbed the back of his head as he fell, making it look all the more convincing. Gray and I are-!

“Wow! You guys sure do take this seriously, going so far for the fans! This’ll be a great piece!” the photographer sighed dreamily. It was overtaken by Juvia’s deranged screeching.

“Love rival love rival love rival-!”

“Juvia, will you let me kiss you? Just for the shoot, of course,” Lyon crooned as he wiggled up to Juvia, but the water mage was in no mood to entertain; his wails were lost in the rushing of water as she sent him spiraling down the beach. He landed face-first and butt in the air, and when he came up he was spitting the fine grains out of his mouth and looking downright dejected. “Gray gets to kiss Lucy but I don’t get to kiss Juvia,” he moped as he tromped back over to them with slumped shoulders and the sand raining from his spiky hair. By this time, Gray and Lucy had sprung apart and placed several feet between them, both as red as tomatoes and wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands.

~~~~~~~~~~

Needless to say, that little photograph made the front page.

Lucy ducked out of the guild after a raucous round of teasing, clutching the copy of the magazine to her chest. Though it featured the embarrassing array of her and Gray’s spicy photos together, it was still her one and only modeling gig, and despite the context she was quite proud of it and wanted to hang onto a copy as a memento. Plus, looking back on it, she had had a lot of fun with Gray; he had so effortlessly calmed her nerves, and, antics aside, tromping around the beach with him had become a fond memory. Standing outside the guild with the roaring laughter and buzz of conversation fading into the background, she flipped open the magazine to the featurette, all the pictures of their own laughing faces under the blazing sun. While their relationship was not nearly of the nature their fans envisioned, Lucy definitely could admit that it was a good one.

“Bah, you had enough of those guys too?”

The Celestial wizard glanced up when the exact man in the photos beside her slipped out of the guild doors, looking irritated. He actually had his clothes on, with his hands stuffed into his overcoat pockets; his dark eyes were looking down at her, with that same intensity yet softness they always carried. “They were so busy passing it around and making fun of it, I didn’t even get to see the feature. You mind?” Lucy nodded and stepped closer to him, holding out the magazine so that they could both peruse the contents; though he was standing so close that their arms brushed, his breath puffing against her ear as he leaned down over her shoulder, Lucy felt nothing along the sort of nervousness or anxiety. Outside the context of the modeling shoot, gray really was just Gray; personal space really wasn’t a thing between them. That made her smile slightly. “What’s that grin for?”

“I was just thinking that we look pretty good together.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally fallen for my bewitching good looks, have you?” he smirked at her with his hand on his chin, and she laughed loudly. He joined her, and their shoulders shook in unison as they descended into a hysterical fit of snickers and giggles. By the time they settled down, Lucy was holding the magazine against her belly and tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Gray exhaled deeply as he ran a hand through his midnight-colored hair, smiling in bemusement. “As much as a pain it was, I can’t say that I didn’t have fun. I definitely don’t wanna do it again, though, I’m tired of all the jokes.”

“Well, at least you have the reassurance that if you fail at being a wizard, you’ve got a modeling career ahead of you,” she grinned at him, and because the comment was unwarranted, he pinched her cheek and began tugging on it.

“You’re pretty cheeky tonight, aren’t you?”

“Ow! Gray! Cut it out, I’m sorry!” she whined while trying to swat his hand away. He sniffed in mock disdain before releasing her, and she tenderly rubbed her reddening skin while he grinned in that devilish way of his. “You’re right, though. I’m afraid Juvia’s gonna murder me in my sleep, and all the girls keep pestering me about going on a date with you!” she laughed lightly.

“Yeah, as if. We’ll both end up in a grave for that,” he snorted, then cast his gaze up at the night sky. The clouds were drifting lazily by the full moon and the stars twinkled like the light playing across the waves they had played in. “Still… I wouldn’t mind going back. To Crystalwake, I mean. Under normal circumstances.”

“Yeah. I had a good time. Just no pulling off my bikini top this time. You may like to lose your clothes, but I don’t.”

“Asshole,” he smirked and shoved her in the side of her head. Lucy grabbed her head, but was smiling; she knew that Gray’s gestures and teasing, though rough, were just his way of showing affection. He chortled too, then put his hands behind his head. “So, now I gotta walk you home, right? Isn’t that the rule after you kiss a girl?”

“Technically, you did it wrong. You’re supposed to kiss her on her doorstep,” Lucy quipped as she tucked the magazine into her bag and clasped her hands behind her back, whirling on her heel to skip a few paces down the cobblestoned street. “Still, I guess I’ll cut you some slack and let you walk me home, but don’t try anything funny, mister.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she heard him chuckle behind her, and his boots made light clicking noises as they struck the stone walking after her. Lucy hopped up onto the rock wall overlooking the harbor as she always did, her arms held out on either side of her for balance as she strode along, silhouetted by the starry night and the glittering ocean as Gray walked alongside her.

Crystalwake is beautiful, but I don’t need to go to some fancy beach to have fun with you. She kept that thought to herself, as Gray would likely make some smart-aleck jibe about it. Lucy didn’t know if what she had with Gray would one day develop into anything more or not; she wasn’t really in a state that wondered, either. She was content with their playful friendship for what it was, and that brought her enough joy in itself.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #juvia lockser #lyon vastia #gray fullbuster #platonic graylu #graylu #friendship #comedy #fluff #oneshot #oneshots #oneshot collection #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction

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zukadiary · 6 years

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Hustle Mates ~ Cosmos Troupe 2018

I know I'm here so often it's hardly special anymore… but this trip had the distinction of being my first VACATION in Japan in 5 years. I'd forgotten what mornings look like in this country (and as I'm now back at work for the remaining few days, I already miss them).

It also had the distinction of being Kazuki Sora's first lead. Of my standout favorites in my life thus far as a Takarazuka fan, Sora is the only one who, by some witch magic, grabbed me when she was a tiny child—before I ever set foot in a theater here, before she even got a shinko lead. After growing quite used to following her around the edges of the stage with my opera glasses and mentally cursing camera operators for not panning two inches to the left to get more than a sliver of her arm in some great dance scene, this year brought first an absolute dream role in Anita, followed by the center spotlight that I honestly wasn't convinced she'd ever get. It's been vindicating seeing her immense talents displayed so prominently, and deeply moving in ways utterly different from any of the other cyclones of emotion Takarazuka fandom has thrown upon me. A very non-Soragumi friend had a chance to see the show, and I felt nervous and wary like I was taking an acquaintance to my own child's recital (someone please tell me when I got old enough to experience THAT feeling). And much like a mom, I plan to throw out any attempt at objectivity and rave about my girl until you don't want to listen anymore.

Hustle Mates was primarily a collection of songs and dances from Soragumi history, with a few non-Takarazuka songs, MC sections, and mini skits thrown in. It's a tiny cast of 16, so if you like anyone in it you have a good chance of seeing her featured. Long-time Soragumi fans will likely find it very fun and nostalgic regardless. Sora leading a show about the history of Soragumi which contains a great number of songs with the word sora in them made it kind of sound like she was singing about herself for two hours, which greatly amused me (and apparently tickled Ishida-sensei too).

Act 1 opens with two original songs—the very upbeat Hustle Mates theme, and then more of a ballad (also with ample use of the word SORA)—followed by a selection of songs from some of the most well-known Soragumi musicals: Copacabana, Phantom, Top Hat, Singin' in the Rain, and an Elisabeth medley, which despite the general overuse of Elisabeth songs was still my favorite. Watashi Dake Ni was a group musumeyaku number, Mikaze Maira got to unleash her very impressive pipes on that last note. Saigo no Dance also started as a group otokoyaku number. Moeko entered partway through for a solo line, and I know she has the shinko Tod experience under her, but since I've never seen that, it was maybe the most surprising and powerful few seconds of Moeko I've ever witnessed. Then Sora came in to finish the song, and in some alternate universe where she's in a different class and tall enough to be a top star I'd sell both of my kidneys to see her Elisabeth every single day of the run. Sora solo Kitsch came next and was likewise flawless, so I guess I'll be satisfied with keeping my kidneys if they finally air that dang shinko in the next couple of months while Tsukigumi is playing.

Then we have a skit… I'm a bit fuzzy on exactly what went on in it, but I suspect I might be looking for sense where there was none. Setohana Mari enters dressed like a dominatrix, loudly cracking whip and all, with two other musumeyaku guards of Partial Time Prison. They do a roll call of past Soragumi characters who come out one by one and make meta jokes about themselves (discussing their offenses?) while the three guards smack them around. Sora is brought out last, as Lucheni, and gives a long speech, the punchline of which is he's on the path to reform thanks to his new life selling green juice mix in what is probably a pyramid scheme. Each performance she ad-libbed Louis and Marie Antoinette off the stage.

Moeko and Mineri who were playing Jose and Carmen in prison stick around to sing Temptation (GREAT song, I wanted a little more from these two) while the underclassmen get ready to sing Amapola a cappella conducted by Homare Seri. This was QUITE impressive, and I love it when they use Bow to give underclassmen little challenges like this. Act 1 ends with a medley of the Soragumi revue songs that got the most votes in the internet poll they ran a few months ago. They aren't listed individually in the program and I'm probably missing something, but off the top of my head I remember Millennium Challenger, Dancing For You, Funky Sunshine, Nice Guy, Phoenix Takarazuka, and Hot Eyes. Sora singing Funky Sunshine (SO—RA— POWER) was HIGHLY satisfying. They finish on Asu e no Energy, which still made me cry even though I JUST saw Citrus Breeze… but put my kid in the center of a song that always makes me cry anyway and I guess that's what you get.

Act 2 was less nostalgic and more interesting to me, probably because Sora's dance scenes multiplied significantly. They opened with a nihonmono medley, beginning with a Soran dance which I LOVED (the one from Viva Festa always gets me hyped too). Sora entered Takarazuka with a background in hip hop dance which I think always gives her movements a particular dynamic energy and a sharpness that sets her apart even from the other great Takarazuka dancers, but it stood out to me even more than usual in the Soran scene, probably in contrast to the traditional Japanese garb. I REALLY LOVED IT (even if I can imagine nichibu purists cringing). During my first two viewings of the show I was mostly overwhelmed and ecstatic that Sora had gotten a lead at all, but the last one, particularly in the Soran scene for whatever reason, it hit me HARD how much she's grown and how commanding and enthralling she is on stage.

After we spend a bit more time reliving Soragumi's very brief nihonmono history through song, there's a "rain corner" featuring a folk song that I rather like and a skit that made me feel COMPLEX THINGS. Mappu (Matsukaze Akira) plays some kind of rain god/wizard/???, in a whimsically decorated raincoat with two cute little ghosts hanging off her umbrella. Sora enters playing a guy out for a walk in the park in the rain where he meets a girl (Mineri) who lets him share her umbrella, and when the rain stops she asks him what he's doing in the park in the rain without one. BEAR WITH ME HERE: he explains he felt like coming to visit the spot where his dog Liza died, on a rainy day just like this one, after running away from their car (side note, I hope they named the dog Liza because Mineri's name is a play on Minelli?? Is it even?? There's a good ochakai question 6 days too late). He reminisces about all the tricks Liza could do, and Mineri imitates them. He shows her a picture of Liza, and surprisingly they're wearing the same dress?! It becomes evident that Mineri is actually the human form spirit of Sora's late pet, granted a few precious moments on earth by Rain Wizard Mappu to talk to her former owner, thank him, and say goodbye… she disappears with Mappu before Sora fully figures it out. HERE'S THE THING: As WTF?? as this entire concept is, Sora's acting was so damn heartbreaking I TEARED UP on the THIRD VIEWING even though I TOTALLY KNEW WHAT TO EXPECT?? I'm GENUINELY ANGRY that she took THIS SKIT and managed to MAKE ME CRY, and now I'm also praying to all the gods that this isn't her last lead, because I NEED to see her in a proper play with a proper partner. Where do I sacrifice the goats?

Next the whole team sings a song from Never Say Goodbye, leading up to Sora coming out for a solo barefoot dance, custom engineered to wound me as gravely as possible. Setohana Mari follows this up with an attempt at If I Were a Bell from Guys & Dolls, with brilliant all-in drunk acting but barely recognizable English (A for effort given the speed of the song though).

AND THEN

Okay. There's a rare special thing that I've now had the… fortune? I guess? of experiencing twice, that I hope you all get to experience someday, not because it's good or fun but just because it's An Experience. Sometimes there are secret little treats hidden in Takarazuka shows just for the foreigners. They're secret because I am pretty sure the directors have no idea what treats they are. And sometimes, through a combination of luck and the kindest friends, you make it to your first viewing with no spoilers, and a song starts playing that you recognize within half a note, and you begin having an experience so separate from every other person in the theater you feel as though you might as well be floating above the audience with all their disapproving gazes drilling into you, wondering what the heck you're doing up there when clearly the place for you is down here. The first time was when I waltzed unassuming into HOT EYES!! in an era when my feelings re: Soragumi were "I guess I have to watch them if I want to see Sora," and in my heart-pounding state of shock brought about by the first however many scenes Eye of the Tiger began to play, and out came involuntarily a VERY noticeable raspberry spit of quickly stifled laughter (before Makaze's everything shut me right the heck up).

The second was when amidst the polite applause following Secchan's Ding Dong Ding, the curtain rose on the remainder of the cast beginning a fiercely literal staging of the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody in English. There are so many things to unpack:

Mikaze Maira, playing a literal mother, opens the number by emotionally reading a literal letter from her literal son who has literally gone off to war

The others, with Sora in the center, are playing soldiers armed with sizable rifles, portraying the horrors of war via aggressive interpretive dance

Sora's English, while certainly not flawless, was SO PASSABLE, especially when compared to a) history in general and b) specifically Can't Take My Eyes Off of You from 2 years ago, I was FULLY SHOOK

Her dancing and acting in this number were SO FRIGGIN GOOD I could DIE

The performance overall was SO PASSIONATELY ACTED and thus SO DISTRESSING that people in the audience were CRYING from BEING MOVED to the point where later in the run they BEGAN SNIFFLING BEFORE THE NUMBER EVEN STARTED

It forced me for the first time in my life to sit down and hella contemplate the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody, the conclusion of which was a) yeah that sure was a 500% valid interpretation of the lyrics and b) there is absolutely no way I could ever begin to explain to a Japanese person why in my culture it's a FUNNY SONG

I was EXTRA TICKLED that Kotti, who can't speak above a whisper off stage, was the one who got to run up onto a box and scream SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYE

Every viewing my body shook so hard from the effort it took to keep myself from making any sort of noise I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in my row could feel the tremors and I am honestly still tired just thinking about it

If this is cut I’m making a GoFundMe for the rights. Everyone start saving now please.

As a palate cleanser, Mineri sings a pop ballad in a gorgeous gown before the proper kuroenbi to Ai, which is a song that has a lot of nostalgic value for me personally, making it a very emotional backdrop to Sora leading an otokoyaku dance with the top star sparkles on her tailcoat and hitting that final pose with a heart-shattering bang. They reprise the two original theme songs for the parade, and that's Hustle Mates.

Additional notes from my particular viewings: I had a lucky aisle seat where Hanaki Maia, who I'm pretty obsessed with, serenaded me, and Mappu gave me a great smile and a little hand squeeze in lieu of a high five. I am completely charmed by Kotti, she's like a Great Dane that grew up and still thinks it's a lap dog—striking otokoyaku on the outside and a sweet shy earnest inside that hasn't quite caught up yet. Senshuuraku should be the day that shows up on Sky Stage eventually, but in the Partial Time Prison scene Homare Seri (playing Rhett Butler) started a really awkward slow clap with the audience in an attempt to ad lib, then had no idea where she wanted to go with it so she just gave SoraLucheni a big hug, and Moeko got flustered, decided that was enough, and cut off everyone’s laughter and applause by stepping in front of the action and saying her next line as loudly as possible.

My raku seat was close range, and after watching Sora’s perfectly calculated facial expressions, and the tiny backlit beads of sweat flying off her brow as she danced her heart out in HER SHOW, I'd sit in lava for her I love her so deeply.

#takarazuka #reviews #hustle mates #might as well just tell people I live here

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thezombiegeekinthehawaiianshirt · 3 years

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Over the weekend, President Donald Trump spent an hour on the phone with Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger (R) in an attempt to convince the state's top election official to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election in the state. Even for Trump, it was a remarkable moment — an attempt to lean on an elections official to find more votes that would somehow alter the outcome of the election. Thanks to The Washington Post, which broke the news, the full audio of the call is available. I went through the transcript of the call and pulled out the lines you need to see. They're below.

1. "We won very substantially in Georgia. You even see it by rally size, frankly. We'd be getting 25-30,000 people a rally and the competition would get less than 100 people." Well, I'm convinced! Trump has always been entirely convinced that having large rallies = winning. Of course, even if Trump had 30,000 people at a rally, that's roughly .6% of the 4.9 million votes cast in Georgia this fall. Math! And away we go!

2. "We have at least 2 or 3 -- anywhere from 250-300,000 ballots were dropped mysteriously into the rolls. Much of that had to do with Fulton County, which hasn't been checked." I am not sure what Trump is talking about here. (This will be a running theme.) My guess is that he is equating the entirely legitimate process of early votes being tabulated and included in the statewide totals as votes being "mysteriously" dropped.

3. "We think that if you check the signatures -- a real check of the signatures going back in Fulton County you'll find at least a couple of hundred thousand of forged signatures of people who have been forged." There is zero evidence for this claim.

4. "But it's much more than the number of 11,779 that's -- The current margin is only 11,779." Fact Check: True!

5. "But you also have a substantial numbers of people, thousands and thousands who went to the voting place on November 3, were told they couldn't vote, were told they couldn't vote because a ballot had been put on their name." There's zero evidence for this claim. The closest I could find was back in September when Raffensperger announced that roughly 1,000 people had tried to double-vote.

6. "Late in the morning, they went early in the morning they went to the table with the black robe, the black shield and they pulled out the votes. Those votes were put there a number of hours before the table was put there." "It's all nonsense." -- The Washington Post

7. "They weren't in an official voter box, but they were in what looked to be suitcases or trunks, suitcases but they weren't in voter boxes. The minimum number it could be because we watched it and they watched it certified in slow motion instant replay, if you can believe it, but slow motion and it was magnified many times over and the minimum it was 18,000 ballots, all for Biden." This isn't true. (See No. 6.) Also, "slow motion instant replay"!!!!

8. "You had out-of-state voters. They voted in Georgia but they were from out of state, of 4,925. You had absentee ballots sent to vacant, they were absentee ballots sent to vacant addresses." "Every one we've been through are people that lived in Georgia, moved to a different state but then moved back to Georgia legitimately." -- Ryan Germany, lawyer for the Georgia secretary of state's office

9. "And I know you would like to get to the bottom of it, although I saw you on television today and you said that you found nothing wrong. I mean, you know, and I didn't lose the state, Brad." "I saw you on television today." -- The President of the United States

10. "People have been saying that it was the highest vote ever. There was no way. A lot of the political people said that there's no way they beat me." So, if it was "the highest vote ever," Trump couldn't have lost? Yeah, this checks out.

11. "As you know, every single state ... we won every state." Mr. President, I have the Electoral College map on line one for you.

12. "And we won the House, but we won every single state house and we won Congress, which was supposed to lose 15 seats, and they gained, I think 16 or 17 or something." Mr. President, I have Speaker Nancy Pelosi on line two for you.

13. "So dead people voted and I think the number is close to 5,000 people." There is zero evidence for this claim.

14. "The bottom line is, when you add it all up and then you start adding, you know, 300,000 fake ballots ..." It appears as though he literally just made this number up.

15. "And this may or may not ... because this just came up this morning that they are burning their ballots, that they are shredding, shredding ballots and removing equipment." NOPE!

16. "You're not the only one, I mean, we have other states that I believe will be flipping to us very shortly." Oh really? Give me a list of those states. I'll wait ...

17. "But in Detroit, we had, I think it was, 139% of the people voted. That's not too good. Turnout in Detroit was 51% of eligible voters. Which is less than 139%.

18. "In Pennsylvania, they had well over 200,000 more votes than they had people voting." [narrator voice] They didn't.

19. "But, uh, they had as an example, in Michigan, a tremendous number of dead people that voted." Nah, bro.

20. "And we won the state and we won it very substantially and easily and we're getting, we have, much of this is a very, you know they're certified, far more certified than we need." This stuff isn't just being certified. It's being "far more certified than we need." So you know it's good.

21. "But we only lost the state by that number, 11,000 votes, and 779." So, the 11 is in the thousands column, the 7 is in the hundreds column, the 7 is in the tens column and the 9 is in the ones column ...

22. "Because, what's the difference between winning the election by two votes and winning it by half a million votes. I think I probably did win it by half a million." OK, so Trump is saying that rather than losing Georgia by 11,770 votes, he won it by 500,000 votes? Man, these Georgians need to get their math straight!

23. "And they say it's not possible to have lost Georgia." Well, if "they" say it ...

24. "And the people of Georgia are angry, the people of the country are angry. And there's nothing wrong with saying, you know, um, that you've recalculated." In which the President of the United States suggest Georgia's top election official redo the results of a vote that has already been certified and validated by the state's electors. Very normal stuff!

25. "They did it in slow motion replay magnified, right?" The only thing missing here is from Trump to break out the telestrator to explain it all.

26. "Where were the poll watchers and why did they say a water main broke, which they did and which was reported in the newspapers? They said they left. They ran out because of a water main break, and there was no water main. There was nothing. There was no break." Gabriel Sterling, the voting system implementation manager, said this in December when the water main issue first appeared: "You'll see when they walk in, and they see the obvious water leak on the floor. You will see when they move all the stuff out of the way. You will see the Zamboni, little carpet-dryer thingy driving around. I mean, you can see all the things happen, you can see the table get put in place." He also said at the time that no ballots were damaged or altered, according to surveillance video footage.

27. "There's no way I lost Georgia. There's no way. We won by hundreds of thousands of votes." Yes, you've said that a few times now ...

28. "Oh this isn't social media. This is Trump media. It's not social media. It's really not, it's not social media. I don't care about social media." "I don't care about social media." -- Donald Trump, with a straight face, apparently.

29. "And they're going around playing you and laughing at you behind your back, Brad, whether you know it or not, they're laughing at you and you've taken a state that's a Republican state, and you've made it almost impossible for a Republican to win because of cheating, because they cheated like nobody's ever cheated before." This is a common Trump tactic to bend people to his viewpoint: People are laughing at you behind your back! Which is obviously something he worries a lot about for himself and thinks others do, too.

30. "And you are going to find that they are -- which is totally illegal, it is more illegal for you than it is for them because, you know what they did and you're not reporting it. That's a criminal, that's a criminal offense. And you can't let that happen. That's a big risk to you and to Ryan, your lawyer." In which Trump not-so-subtly threatens Raffensperger (and his lawyer Ryan Germany) that in defending this allegedly corrupt election they are putting themselves in some sort of legal jeopardy. Totally fine!

31. "And flipping the state is a great testament to our country because, cause you know, this is -- it's a testament that they can admit to a mistake, or whatever you want to call it." Oh, so overturning a certified election result is actually a good thing for our country because it, uh, shows we can admit we made a mistake?

32. "But I mean, all of this stuff is very dangerous stuff. When you talk about no criminality, I think it's very dangerous for you to say that." This feels very ominous from Trump. Very.

33. "But, but I'm just curious why wouldn't, why do you keep fighting this thing? It just doesn't make sense. We're way over the 17,779, right?" First of all, the margin is 11,779. Second, the reason the election officials "keep fighting this thing" is because you don't get to overturn an election just because you didn't like the result.

34. "Because you guys are so wrong. And you treated this. You treated the population of Georgia so badly. You, between you and your governor, who was down at 21, he was down 21 points. And like a schmuck, I endorsed him and he got elected, but I will tell you, he is a disaster." "[Brian Kemp is] an incredible fighter and tireless champion for the people and values of Georgia." -- Donald Trump, November 2018

35. "And you would be respected. Really respected, if this thing could be straightened out before the election." Another classic Trump persuasion ploy: If only you would overturn this election, people in Georgia would love you! They would respect you!

36. "They don't want to vote. They hate the state, they hate the governor and they hate the secretary of state. I will tell you that right now. The only people like you are people that will never vote for you." Trump suggest here that if Republicans lose the two Senate runoffs on Tuesday it's because of Raffensperger's refusal to give the state to Trump. Which, uh, well, OK.

37. "And the real truth is I won by 400,000 votes. At least. That's the real truth. But we don't need 400,000. We need less than 2,000 votes." I thought he need 11,779 votes +1? Now it's 2,000. How? Why? Yeah, this feels like a good place to end.

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megacircuit9universe · 4 years

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Shades of 2008

FRI MAR 13 2020

So, today Trump declared a national emergency... which is quite warranted under the circumstances, but also kinda scary... as that’s a technical step closer to martial law, god forbid.*

Meanwhile, today was another historical first for the markets... the first time ever that all US bonds, regardless of their length, fell below 1%. It makes that inverted yield curve from last year look like a little walk in the park.**

At his press conference today, Trump had on hand, not only health officials, but leaders of different corporations... attempting to convince them, and get them to convince us, that the economy’s gonna be just fine.

But it also broke today that the reason why Covid19 testing is so scarce and so impossible to get is... by Presidential order. No testing... no rise in the number of infections. And while this is still hearsay... it’s perfectly in character for this callous criminal President, and we all know it’s true.

...which is why the markets aren’t gonna rally back, no matter how many speeches he makes, or what governmental levers he pulls to try and stimulate the markets.

I normally go shopping for groceries every two weeks, and I go after work, which is midnight, to a 24 hour grocery store which is normally nearly empty except for stockers hard at work in the aisles.

I’d been hearing about people making runs on the supermarkets this week, hoarding toilet paper, and other paper products, thanks to a rumor that we may run out of such stuff because it all comes from China.

But I didn’t think I’d actually see it here, where I live. That kinda stuff only happens in big cities far away, but not around these parts.

Yet, lo and behold, when I got to my store tonight, at midnight, the parking lot was full, and a long train of people were rolling out the front doors with shopping carts overfilled with food and... bulk paper products.

They were being forced out of the store and nobody else, including me, was being allowed in. This 24 hour supermarket, that I’ve been shopping at for twelve years, was closed.

The guy at the door told me they still had plenty of product in the stock room but had to close in order to actually restock the shelves overnight.

I asked him if it tomorrow night would be better.

With a bit of a laugh, he said, “Tomorrow night? Right now, we’re just taking it hour by hour.”

I drove to the only other 24 hour store in town... the big chain drug store on the main strip. They have a small section for groceries. They were open, thank goodness, but their toilet paper section was stripped bare. Nothing at all... just like all the pictures I’d seen online today from other parts of the country.

Thankfully, I wasn’t here for toilet paper... my main concern was cat food... and thankfully they did have a 12 pack of Fancy feast, cat litter, and milk. As far as paper products, they still had facial tissue, so I bought three boxes of that, just in case there’s still no toilet paper next week.

I said a few entries ago that the panic was worse than the virus, and this was firsthand evidence of how true that is.

I’ve only seen this kind of thing a couple other times, when a big blizzard is approaching... the old bread and milk thing... when people panic about being stuck at home for several days. But that’s always a local thing.

This is a nationwide panic, that isn’t just clearing the supermarket shelves of toilet paper and hand sanitizer, but crashing the stock and bond markets.

It’s difficult to imagine how such a visceral experience, for every citizen on the ground this week... does not affect the voting on Tuesday.

Last Tuesday, the fear of the virus was there, but daily life was going on as usual. There were groceries on the shelves. The President hadn’t declared a state of emergency. Schools were in session. TV shows had studio audiences. Sports were doing their normal thing.

Last Tuesday it was, “wash your hands, everybody, and... by the way, Biden’s the guy for the job, so vote Biden.”

It’s only three days later (!) and the fucking world is ending because of a public health crisis.

Now it’s two days until the debate between, “Good Time’s Joe,” and “FDR of Health Care.” What do you think the focus of that debate is gonna be about on Sunday night? And who do you think is gonna have better answers about how to deal with a global pandemic?

My guess is that Bernie is gonna crush Joe in such a debate, no matter how early in the morning they do it, and no matter how many uppers they give Biden beforehand to keep him lucid enough to speak in full, connected sentences.

The asshole already said if a Medicare for All bill ever came across his desk as President, he’d veto it. How’s he gonna backpedal on that when half the viewers at home are down to their last roll of toilet paper, terrified to go out in public for fear of Covid19?

Then it’s gonna be two more long days of pandemic hysteria before we actually go to the polls... so... as I said in the last entry... if this does not turn the tide to Bernie... nothing ever will.

That said, It’s worth reviewing that all of this panic not only stems from Trump’s fundamental inability to deal with a global pandemic... but also the terrifying realization that Biden may be even LESS competent to deal with it, or any other existential threat that may be waiting in the wings for us.

The latter, as evidenced by the market’s downturn beginning immediately after Super Tuesday... when the media was attempting to coronate Biden as the Democratic nominee.

Rich people and Corporations may not like the idea of having to pay their fair share of taxes, but they are a little bit more allergic to the specter of a global economic collapse... which last reared it’s ghoulish face into the skies back in 2008.

This does, to me... now feel more like 2008, than any other Presidential election in modern history.

That time around, it began with the housing bust in early 2007, which brought on a recession, and inevitably lead to the near banking collapse of 2008.

That year, Hillary Clinton was, around this time in March, presumed to be the Democratic nominee, with her only opponent, Barack Obama, starting to be treated as an, “also ran,” in the mainstream media.

But the scarier things got, the better Obama did... not only winning the nomination... but then going on to win the Presidency... taking over from GWB in one of the darkest hours this country has seen since 1929.

Rich people and Corporations knew then, what they must still know now... Republican governments are great for letting everybody have fun on the playground, amassing mountains of wealth at the expense of the lower classes...

...but, when they break the game... as they always do... Democrats must be called in to fix it, before all of civilization collapses. And in such a case, the more progressive the better... hence, Barack over Hillary.

And fix things, Obama did, over his eight years.

Fixed the economy so good, it was now a self driving money machine that could not be crashed even if you had the worst, most drunken driver at the wheel.

That meant a big green light for Republican government! And this time... permanently! No more Democrats necessary ever again! Trump 2016. Trump 2020. Trump 2024, 28, 32, 36... impeachment means nothing. Senators can be bought. DOJ can be fixed. No more regulations. Hahahaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

And then a pandemic plague came out of China... like they always do. Like they’ve been doing since the Black Plague of old.

And this one just happens to be hitting the upper class the hardest... because it’s hardest on the elderly, in this historical moment of peak elderly power. And it’s hardest on those who travel the world, and love to hang out in huge crowds... as the powerful elderly love to do...

...cruise ships... jet setting... political rallies... awards events... back room meetings... shaking hands with every motherfucker they see all day long.

For them, Covid19 doesn’t just threaten their lives directly... but their huge piles of money, if it triggers the collapse of the dreaded, “everything bubble,” economists have been warning us about for a few years now... in the few venues where their voices have not been stifled completely.

This week, they are beginning to realize... they’ve crashed the self driving economy. And they did it in only four years of Republican government.

Only an FDR can save this.

Only an FDR can halt the collapse of the everything bubble, and save them from dying of a pandemic disease for which there is currently no cure.

I’m sure they’re not happy about that.

But... as the TikTok meme goes... “it is what it is.”

I’m going to bed.

* I’ve learned the day after writing that marital law is not on the table here because it can only happen in a time of war.. and only when the judicial branch no longer exists?

Neither of those scenarios are coming down as the result of this current pandemic... which is no threat to babies, children, teens, or young adults at all.

Yes, it may be a threat to the boomer voter base... but they do not have the power to enforce anything close to martial law.

**Let us not forget the Pronunciation Book warning about Dalton (Donal T):

“...He is rich. He is strong. And he is going to crash the stock market. Sidewalks crack, and streets go dark. Ten Thousand bankers shake and scream for Dalton’s pyramid.”

The last video on the channel, published on September 24th, 2013... six years prior to the date that Pelosi would announce formal impeachment hearings.

And even though he made it through that... boasting about the great economy the whole time... here we are.

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omfgtrump · 4 years

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All Is Well in the Lands of I

Actually, in the world of I, things are anything but well; but then again, we have been living in an alternative reality for three years. (Thank you Kellyanne Conway for your service!)

Impeachment

The Don has been impeached on two counts: shaking down a foreign government for his own political gain, and obstructing congress’s attempt to investigate this action.

Iran

Though it technically does not merit an impeachable offense under the constitution, here are two more actions that indicate he should be removed from office:

Number One: Assassinating a foreign leader with ersatz intel.

Number two (has two parts):

After taking out Suleimani, The Don thought it appropriate to tweet a picture of the American flag. That’s the equivalent of a 5 year old shoving an ice cream cone in another kid’s face and strutting away with a shit eating grin on his face.

After Iran bombed two U.S. military bases in Iraq, The Don thought it appropriate to tweet:

All is well! Missiles launched from Iran at two military bases located in Iraq. Assessment of casualties & damages taking place now. So far, so good! We have the most powerful and well equipped military anywhere in the world, by far! I will be making a statement tomorrow morning.

The dangerous child running our country thought it made sense to tell America that all was well, even though Americans felt we were on the brink of war.

This is classic Don. Don’t worry about a thing because The Great Ditherer of Oz has everything under control. I am the deal maker who will bring home the bacon. Oops, forgot to mention that I went bankrupt 7 times.

Here’s how well we are:

Iran has cast off nuclear curbs so that it is now potentially within five months of having enough fuel for a nuclear warhead, down from almost 15 years when Trump took office.

United States forces may be pushed out of Iraq, allowing Suleimani to achieve in death one of his foremost goals in life.

American forces in Syria may be difficult to support without the military presence in Iraq, so some or all of them might pull out as well, another strategic victory for Iran.

The military campaign against ISIS is on hold, giving terrorists a chance to regroup.

Iran’s regime, which had been threatened by enormous protests at home and in Iraq, has been rescued by Trump’s actions. Iranians have rallied around the flag, and the Iraqi narrative has changed overnight from the bullying of Iranians to the bullying of Americans.

Instead of bringing troops home, Trump has had to deploy more to the Middle East at huge cost.

Iran shot down a plane with 173 passengers (many of them Iranians) because someone thought it was a U.S. response to the Iranians missile attack on the U.S. compound in Iraq.

A recent poll shows that by a 2-1 margin Americans feel that the action in Iran has made us less safe.

To watch the spineless Republicans twist in the wind and perform feats of contortionist wonderment to defend this dangerous immoral man defies credulity.

The Republicans know there is no intel to justify the attack. Mike Lee and Rand Paul went on record for all to see. The other Republicans were in the same room.

This is what Lee had to say:

“It was probably the worst briefing I’ve seen at least on a military issue in the nine years I’ve served in the United States Senate. He went on: “I find it insulting and demeaning…They had to leave after 75 minutes while they’re in the process of telling us that we need to be good little boys and girls and run along and not debate this in public,” Lee said. “I find that absolutely insane. I think it’s unacceptable.”

In an homage to the famous Chinese story Roshomon, where there are 7 accounts of the same event, the administration shifted its story. The issue at hand was whether there was any evidence that clearly showed that Suleimani was preparing to take actions against the U.S. that represented an imminent threat. Here’s my take on a conversation to come up with a story.

Aide 1- I think we should focus on the I in imminent

Aide 2- No that’s not very convincing. How about we go with the Im.

Aide 1-That could work but In might be better as it is in the middle of the word imminent and might be camouflage better.

Aide 2- I see a clear problem with that version, so what about we go with Ent.

Aide 1-That’s really clever. But I think I have even a better one. How about Eminem?

Aide 2-That’s nuts. He’s a rap star.

Aide-1 Yeah, we can see he did it. He hates Trump and our supporters know it.

Aide 2-Well, we could go with that but what about M&Ms?

Aide 1-Now that’s cool. Regular or Peanuts?

Aide 2- I’d go with peanuts because you have to be pretty nutty to do what the president did.

Aide 1-Say that again.

Aide 2- So we’re going with the Peanut M&Ms?

Aide 1-Absolutely! Let’s write it up and present it to Pompeo so they can have it ready for the briefing.

(Fox News in background. Two Aides look up and see The Don being interviewed by Laura Ingraham.)

The Don: “Laura, four American embassies were going to be attacked.”

Aide 1-Fuck, there goes the M&M theory.

Aide 2-We could just go with the “nut” part.

Aide1-That sounds good bu wait the president just tweeted that killing Suleimani “doesn’t really matter because of his horrible past.”

Aide 2-Now that’s what they call a drop the mike moment.

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#IFTTT #WordPress #trump #politics #potus #capital hill #washington dc #white house #america #usa

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flame-n-fire · 4 years

Text

Shado Smith

I dreamed the dream. The dream of a past life when I wanted for nothing but a father's approval. It was a dream when I was young and foolish, innocent like a little lost sheep. It was a dream of when I had strong brothers to protect me, and kind and sometimes stern sisters who would fuss over me. It was a time when I could laugh rambunctious and cry without shame. A time when I didn’t have to be strong, a time when I didn’t have a care in the world. But it ended in the golden dream just like It ended in that time, almost a time before time. During that past time, I can only remember laughter, after that it was dark, painful, and I fought with no end in sight. I was alone as my siblings left, cast into the folds of the world, falling away into the emptiness. They took the light with them. I could ask where had they gone but like me, they were lost out into the rough heartless world. I can still see their faces, smiling and happy, round with health and good food. Last I saw my eldest brother fighting the men with weapons. Tristan, why did you leave me? Why break your promise to me?

Removing my arm from over my face I stared at the ceiling over me. I wish I would stop having that dream. That accursed dream, I swallowed tears as I remembered. I just wanted the past to disappear. Why won’t it end? Why can’t it stay in the past? I stood up, brushing away my stray tears. If Angel saw me in this pitiful state, she would laugh heartily. Luckily, I was on break and far away from that world. I was alone in the city, no one knew me. I was just another girl on the street. Alone in the mass of hundreds, not a friend to be found. Standing I looked out of my glassless window. Grey curtains blew in the early morning wind, the sun peak over the city, letting its first rays fall on the blue sea. The storm clouds were danced away by the winds. I took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air. I woke early once again. “Shado”. I ignored the whisper as I grabbed the necklace cold against my burning skin. The ornate metal cross bit into my sweaty hand. I tightened my grip until I felt blood. There are times I wish I could crush the necklace. But it would never leave me. My shadow danced on the wall. The tiger like beast played in the light eager for me to release him. “No Curbex, no”. It had been years since I last let him roam. Suddenly I released the necklace. “I can’t.” I turned to him. His green eyes stared at me. He knew my heart. He was my only friend, he came with me from my home, he knew the past and who lived in it. He always understood. “Don’t leave me Curbex,”. He knew why I won’t let him out.

I turned from my shadow and descended the dilapidated wood stairs that creaked and groaned under my weight. The dark wood let little light shin, even in this roost. I opened the makeshift door that lead into my less than pleasurable kitchen. A few apples and a lime sat in a bowl on the table. The city was poor and falling down, but the inner city thrived. They were foolish. squandering food and money, they wore cloths once than threw them away. The outer lines, the ruins and slums, the poorer part of town, that had been beaten into submission years ago had lost, but pride held hope, still they suffered under the weight of oppression. They used what they could and gifted more. But not all are perfect but at least some are kind, little thought there were who still believed in kindness, most believed kindness can only be afforded by the rich. Picking up the apple, I took a bit as I went to wash my hands. Glancing over to my patent living room, an old couch took the far wall and books everywhere else. I smiled at my small place. It was home and all I need for a few days, a place to spend my only time off I got. It had been 2 weeks seance I have been summed. The longest in over 6 years. I turned from the counter and left to the tiny blue bathroom. I unlocked the wooden shudders and pushed them open. I stepped out onto the makeshift balcony that over- looked the grey city and sparkling sea. I bit into my apple, tasting the sweet flavor and crunch. I sighed as I stood out in the fresh air. Below, the chaotic sounds of the early market began, hundreds of people wandered out of their dwellings to find food. Sinking to the floor, my body quivered. I will never escape, will I? I glanced around as a cold feeling crept up my spine. Slowly as if in defeat I dropped my head letting by black hair fall in my face. I wanted to choke, as the putrid air grew heavy. The sun hid behind a cloud. “He is coming.” Curbex nudged me. “He can’t silly.” I said as I petted his head. Oh, but I knew he was and he was close. I would kill the devil. The feeling passed as quick as it had come. Standing I brushing off the feeling like a bug, forgotten.

Returning to the bathroom, I looked into the cracked mirror. A pale face stared back with striking green eyes, long wild black hair lay untouched. I squinted at the reflection. 9 years since I left, I had grown so much but still I had a haunted reflection. Grimacing I turned away to change. I slipped on black pants and over my white tank top I polled an emerald green long sleeve shirt then threw on my black leather jacket. Quickly I braided my hair and finished off my apple as I headed out the door.

The warm air hit me as I open the door. Skipping down the stairs that lead to the roof of the building below, with boots in hand, I sat down on the few grungy steps before the bottom, and slipped in my boots. I jumped down the remaining steps onto the roof below. Swinging around the corner I slid down the rusty ladder until I landed on the dusty road. A horse and cart whizzed past. I turned to look at the life of the lower class. Angel always made fun of me for living here but it made me feel human, not that I really am. The inaudible sound of hundreds of conversations bubbled around me. The pungent smells of waste became strong lower to the ground. The air felt choked, thick. Gazing at the population wandering the streets, a young boy darted out with expert hands and took an apple from the cart. I smiled as I thought back eleven years or so when I to used ran in the streets, stealing at any chance, just like this boy. My bare feet stung in the hot sand and my lose rags hung limp on my bony body. It was here when I learned just how cruel the world was. I made eye contact with the boy, fear became evident on his ragged dirty face. I held his entrance stare until I gave him a small smile revealing a little of my past. He continued his quite thieving with a few children. I knew their life and what they faced. But the streets gave me skills not even the Beast Academy could teach.

Wishing the young the scavenger, the best of street riffraff luck, I continued down the road. The people bustled around me ignoring all life around them. Most only saw the top layer, the good kind, but I knew what really thrives in this city. I hated this city but I could not leave. I tried to tell myself it was what it showed me, that was why I could not leave. But I knew better. I stayed in this rotten city because I hoped that one day, by some chance that my siblings would find me. That just maybe they had not really abandoned me. That my Twin Dragon still lived. I never voiced these concerns or wants. But I held them close to my heart. Just by chance maybe I am not alone. Somehow.

Suddenly a chill racked my body even in the morning heat my body felt cold. I stopped clutching my necklace, my ragged breath unnoticed by the pedestrians. Resting my clammy hand on the stone wall I tried but failed to breath. The smell of fresh vanilla, cinnamon and grass clippings, whiffed past. I choked on the scent. Staggering I fell into an ally. Dragging myself deeper into the shadowed place, I hid behind the trash. The horrible sick feeling refused to pass. Gasping, almost sobbing as I remembered the scent. I gagged, as the urge to hurl became too strong. Curbex growled, as he too knew what came with that smell. Once that smell was loved, treasured even, but no longer. The hot breeze ruffled my cloths as it took away the scent I now feared and hated. Somehow, I drew in a breath. I could feel my body again and hear the world surrounding me, not the past. I sat there convincing myself that he could not be here. He just couldn’t, no he wouldn’t, it was below him. Standing I stared out of the darkness and into the lighted street. Stealing myself I took a step forward daring to face whatever darkness had taken hold.

Wandering the streets, my mind couldn’t leave that night, the dream. I past gardens and markets. I lost time and place. I didn’t care that I had lost a day. I couldn’t get away from that smell. It smelled of home, a home that turned into a nightmare. I paced and paced. Death is on my heels. Suddenly the wind picked up, dust blew, causing pedestrians to cry out. Curbex tensed in my shadow, I turned feeling trapped as the unnatural beast moved in the dark. It was not friendly. I snarled letting my small fangs show. Leaping easily five feet into the air I grabbed onto a windowsill, and pulled myself up. I easily lifted my body unto the roof. Standing I stared for an instant at the clouded street below. I smirked at the beast's feeble attempts to find me. The owners were fools. Turning I sprinted across the roofs, letting my feet guide me. Scouts, that was all. They would regret venturing into my territory.

My scar burned, I gripped my left arm. As I sunk to my knees. Something powerful drew near. Standing I pushed the pain away. Scouts and a hunter here, it was strange. Surveying my surroundings, I knew I was deep in the city and needed to return home. I had no desire to fight at this point. Taking a breath, I let Curbex’s senses take over. They were far. Not very close. I straighten, looking around one last time. Quietly I leapt down to an ally. Scenting no present threats, I ventured out into the street turning the corner swiftly. While looking behind, I slammed into a body. I stumbled back shocked. Suddenly my scar burned like never before, I fell to the ground on one knee. I turned my attention to the figure standing over me. Golden hair, tall, with cool green eyes. I gasped almost choked on a sob. “Kila?” I stood, recoiling from her. “What?” She tilted her head confused. It was her, but… I glanced at her necklace shocked to find a gold cross with a deep-sea green stone. It wasn’t her. I snarled, summoning my silver dagger out of thin air. Power swirled around me, it was black and green almost like fire. She gasped leaping back startled. “You die this day imposture!” I snarled. To emotional and scared to do anything but fight.

#heregoesmyfirst #Shado Smith #Curbex #The Smith Children

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back-and-totheleft · 4 years

Text

Where others fear to trend

It’s a conversation any father and son might have -- a quick chat about baseball, families and world affairs. But when the speakers are President George H. W. Bush and his son George W. Bush, even a seemingly innocuous conversation can suddenly carry great weight, especially when Oliver Stone is at the controls.

With sweat cascading down his face on a steamy June night in Louisiana, the Oscar-winning director was directing James Cromwell (playing the elder Bush) and Josh Brolin (starring as President Bush) through a critical moment in “W.,” Stone’s forthcoming -- and potentially divisive -- drama about the personal, political and psychological evolution of the current president. Although the father-son patter was ostensibly friendly, the subtext was anything but, hinting at the intricate parent-child relationship that Stone believes helps to explain George W. Bush’s ascension.

While the Bushes in this scene from 1990 were talking about the Texas Rangers (of whom George W. once owned a share) and Saddam Hus- sein (against whom George H. W. was about to go to war in Kuwait), there was much more at stake, as Stone and screenwriter Stanley Weiser saw the fictional conversation unfolding.

“You need to back him down and take him out -- like you did Noriega,” George W. tells his father about Hussein. The elder Bush wasn’t sure he was going to be that rash. “You know I’ve always believed in leaving personal feelings out of politics,” the 41st president told his son. “But Saddam -- this aggression cannot stand. Not gonna allow this little dictator to control 25% of the world’s oil.”

As the architect of the outspoken dramas “Platoon,” “Salvador,” “Wall Street,” “Born on the Fourth of July” and “JFK,” Stone stands apart as one of the most openly political filmmakers in a business where it’s usually the actors who wear their beliefs on their sleeves. A longtime backer of Democratic candidates (recent donations include a gift to Sen. Barack Obama), Stone is either the oddest person to chronicle the life of the current president or the most inspired.

Whatever the verdict, the marriage of director and subject has left nearly as many people running for the sidelines as wanting to be a part of the director’s undertaking.

Indeed, “W.'s” combination of story and filmmaker and the poor track record of recent biographical movies scared off at least three potential studio distributors and any number of actors, including, initially, star Brolin, and even Major League Baseball, which declined to cooperate with the production.

Yet as Stone guided Cromwell and Brolin across Shreveport’s Independence Bowl stadium, doubling for the Rangers’ home field, it was possible to see that “W.” could be, in a complicated way, sympathetic.

The father was belittling a son, George H. W. cautioning George W. to stick to simple things: “Maybe better you stay out of the barrel,” the senior Bush told his son, and leave the family’s political legacy to younger brother Jeb. “Well, son, I’ve got to say I was wrong about you not being good at baseball,” the father ultimately said, tossing him a scrap of a compliment.

The future president didn’t quite get what the reproving “barrel” idiom meant, but he realized his father didn’t respect him. Brolin took in the snub, but then his bearing grew determined: George W. would have to prove himself beyond anyone’s imagining.

Stone said it’s part of what drove the younger Bush into the White House: to show his doubters wrong. “Someone who could step into that path and out-father his father,” Stone said in his air-conditioned trailer during a break in filming. Racing to film, edit and release the film before the November election, Stone was not always getting five hours’ sleep. Even though it was nearly midnight and the crew was just finishing its lunch break, the 61-year-old director grew increasingly animated talking about “W.”

“I love Michael Moore, but I didn’t want to make that kind of movie,” Stone said of “Fahrenheit 9/11.” “W.,” he said, “isn’t an overly serious movie, but it is a serious subject. It’s a Shakespearean story. . . . I see it as the strange unfolding of American democracy as I have lived it.”

Stone, Brolin and the filmmaking team believe they are crafting a biography so honest that loyal Republicans and the Bushes themselves might see it. Given Stone’s filmmaking history, coupled with a sneak peek at an early “W.” screenplay draft, that prediction looks like wishful thinking.

Still, it’s a captivating challenge: Can a provocateur become fair and balanced? And if Stone is, in some way, muzzling himself to craft a mass-appeal movie, has he cast aside one of his best selling points?

Dressed in a suffocating Rangers warmup jacket earlier on that scorching June day, Brolin kept running into an outfield wall, trying to make a heroic catch as part of the film’s baseball-oriented fantasy framing device.

Stone worried the leap wasn’t quite athletic enough and chose to add the baseball’s falling into Brolin’s mitt through visual effects -- allowing the “No Country for Old Men” star to throw himself into doing everything else.

Brolin spent countless hours studying the president’s speech patterns and body language but said he wasn’t trying to concoct a spitting-image impression, which ran the potential of becoming a “Saturday Night Live” caricature.

“It’s not for me to get the voice down perfectly,” the 40-year-old Brolin said, even though he came close. More important, the actor said, was to unearth Bush’s inner voice -- “Where is my place in this world? How do I get remembered?”

Like other actors approached for the film (including Robert Duvall, who was asked but declined to play Vice President Dick Cheney), Brolin had more than vague misgivings about starring in “W.” He was, in fact, dead set against it. “When Oliver asked me, I said, ‘Are you crazy? Why would I want to do this with my little moment in my career?’ ” Brolin recalled. Then, early one morning during a family ski trip, Brolin read Weiser’s original screenplay, which covers Bush from 1967 to 2004. “It was very different than what I thought it would be,” Brolin said, “which was a far-left hammering of the president.”

Brolin said many friends still weren’t buying it. “There were a lot of people I tried to get involved, who were very, very reluctant to do the movie,” Brolin said. In addition to Cromwell, the cast includes Elizabeth Banks as Laura Bush, Richard Dreyfuss as Cheney, Toby Jones as Karl Rove and Scott Glenn as Donald Rumsfeld.

While noting Bush’s low approval ratings (23% in a Los Angeles Times/Bloomberg poll released this week), Brolin, like Stone, said “W.” isn’t intended to kick the man while he’s down. “Republicans can look at it and say, ‘This is why I like this guy,’ ” Brolin said. “It’s not a political movie. It’s a biography. People will remember that this guy is human, when we are always [outside of the movie] dehumanizing him, calling him an idiot, a puppet, a failed president. We want to know in the movie: How does a guy grow up and become the person that he did?”

Stone, who was briefly a Yale classmate of Bush, is clearly no fan of the president’s politics but said he’s amazed by the man’s resilience and ambition. The movie is basically divided into three acts: Bush’s hard-living youth, his personal and religious conversion, and finally his first term in the Oval Office.

“He won a huge amount of people to his side after making a huge amount of blunders and really lying to people,” the director said. What further fascinates Stone is Bush’s religious and personal conversion: a hard-drinking C student who was able to become not only Texas governor but also the leader of the Free World.

“We are trying to walk in the footsteps of W and try to feel like he does, to try to get inside his head. But it’s never meant to demean him,” Stone said.

The movie has hired a former Bush colleague as an advisor, and labored to get the smallest details right. For all the historical accuracy, though, “W.” is clearly a work of fiction.

“We are playing with our own opinions and our own preconceptions of him,” Stone said. “This is his diary -- his attempt to explain himself.”

This wasn’t the movie Stone was supposed to be making. Instead of “W.,” the film was going to be “Pinkville,” a look at the Army’s investigation into 1968’s My Lai massacre in Vietnam.

Only days before filming was set to begin, with many sets already built and department heads in place, “Pinkville” star Bruce Willis pulled out of the film last fall, unhappy with a script that couldn’t be rewritten because of the writers strike. Stone flirted with casting Nicolas Cage in the lead role, but enthusiasm from United Artists -- whose war movie “Lions for Lambs” had just flopped -- had waned on fears that “Pinkville” was too violent.

At the same time, Stone had been working on the “W.” script with screenwriter Weiser, the author of Stone’s 1987 hit “Wall Street.” Stone was at first worried the topic was almost too timely -- “When I made ‘Nixon,’ ” the director said, “he had died.”

Said “W.” producer Moritz Borman: “He wasn’t sure. He worried, ‘Is there enough material about Bush? Or will there be more once he’s out of office?’ But then a slew of books came out.”

Soon after “Pinkville” imploded, Stone returned to “W.,” and by early 2008 he was convinced it was not only the right time to make the movie but also imperative the movie hit theaters before the next presidential election, because its impact would be greatest then, when everybody was obsessing over our next president. But that early release date created a post-production timetable that would be half of Stone’s most hurried editing schedule. Before he could set up his cameras, Stone and his team first had to answer a key question: Who in the world was going to pay for it?

“You put the two names together -- Bush and Stone -- and everybody had a preconceived notion of what the film would be. But look at ‘World Trade Center,’ ” Borman said of Stone’s commercially successful 2006 movie about two Port Authority policemen rescued from Sept. 11 rubble. “There was an uproar when it was announced and then, when the movie got closer to release, the very people who protested it preached from the pulpit that it was a film that had to be seen.”

Still, Borman and Stone knew few studios would commit to the movie, especially given the desired October 2008 release date, because studios often plan their release schedules more than a year in advance. What they needed was an independent financier, someone not afraid of challenging material -- a person like Bill Block.

Block had formed QED International in 2006 as a production, financing and sales company interested in the kind of highbrow drama that studios increasingly shun. Block saw in “W.” not a troublesome jeremiad but a crowd-pleaser, and QED colleagues Kim Fox and Paul Hanson quickly assembled the “W.” deal.

“What Oliver is making is a splashy, commercial picture,” Block said. “This is not a static biopic. It’s kinetic.”

In addition to footing the film’s $30-million budget, QED also raised money to underwrite its prints and advertising costs upon release. Any distributor committing to “W.,” in other words, would have no money at risk: It could release the film, take the distribution fee of about 15% and move on. “I think it’s a no-brainer,” Stone said. All the same, “W.” could spark a potential inferno inside the White House. “You never know exactly why” a studio rejects a movie, Stone said, while noting that all the major studios are small cogs in global conglomerates. “But at the highest levels, it didn’t pass. Some would say it’s too much of a risk and too much of a hot potato politically.” Stone declined to name names, but two people close to the film said among those considering but passing on the film were Paramount, Warner Bros. and Universal.

Harvey Weinstein’s Weinstein Co. aggressively pursued the “W.” deal, but QED, Borman and Stone picked Lionsgate Films in part because of its strong balance sheet. Also, because it’s not part of a larger studio, Lionsgate is one of the only truly independent distributors left.

Lionsgate worried about fitting “W.” into its October schedule and has discussed a post-election release if the film isn’t ready in time. But whenever it comes out, the company is ready for any backlash -- after all, it’s the distributor of the “Saw” and “Hostel” films.

“To the extent there is going to be heat,” said Joe Drake, president of Lionsgate’s motion picture group, “we can take the heat. That won’t be a problem.”

-John Horn, “In defining Bush, Oliver Stone goes where others fear to tread,” Los Angeles Times, June 29 2008 [x]

#oliver stone #w.#los angeles times #George W. Bush #politics

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