#otp: the world is so pale next to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

typingtess · 2 months

Text

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch: “Sleeping Dogs”

The basics: When several Drona subjects are attacked, NCIS is on the case.

Written by: Andrew Bartels wrote or co-wrote "Allegiance", "Zero Days", "The Grey Man", "Humbug", "Fighting Shadows", "Driving Miss Diaz", "Angels & Daemons", "Where There’s Smoke…", "Glasnost", "Old Tricks" "Battle Scars", "Fool Me Twice", "Warrior of Peace", "Reentry", "The Prince", "Smokescreen", "The One That Got Away"/"No More Secrets" two-parter, "Yellow Jacket", "Missing Time", "If the Fates Allow", "Red Rover, Red Rover", "Divided We Fall", "Genesis" and "Survival of the Fittest".

Directed by: Gonzalo Amat is directing his first NCIS: Los Angeles episode.

Guest stars of note: Ava McCoy as Jordyn Rountree returns from “Perception” in season 13, Ashley Sharpe Chestnut as FBI Special Agent Summer Morehurst returns from "Let it Burn", both Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier as Agent Shyla Dahr and Duncan Campbell as Agent Castor return from “Shame”, Milissa Sears as Leah Novak returns from “Genesis” in season 13, David DeSantos as Anthony Beltran.

Our heroes: Keep droning on about Drona.

What important things did we learn about: Callen: In a roundabout way, asks Sam to be his best man. Sam: In a roundabout way, says yes t being Callen’s best man. Kensi: Absent. Deeks: See Kensi. Fatima: Hacks into the Drona files with Shyla. Rountree: Willing to be shot at to protect Sam and Fatima. Kilbride: Leaving after work to see his son.

What not so important things did we learn about: Callen: Worshipped by Castor. Sam: Thinks Castor getting knocked out twice in three months is a bad look. Kensi: See Deeks. Deeks: Absent. Fatima: Likes Rountree with Summer. Rountree: Runs after school buses, bad guys and through sand castles. Kilbride: Hired Shyla because Shyla remembers everything.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Seemingly in a small town on the border of Turkey and Syria warning Drona subjects that they are in danger.

Who's down with OTP: Kensi and Deeks are off doing family things. Rountree and Summer seems to be doing well.

Who's down with BrOTP: Callen popped the question – will Sam be his best man? Callen has a side buddy in Castor.

Fashion review: Callen wears a green, blue and yellow plaid shirt. A long-sleeve black tee for Sam. Fatima wears a tan leather field coat over a black turtleneck. A pale purple fleece sweatshirt for Rountree. Kilbride has on a dark brown three-piece suit with a white dress shirt and a brown and gold tie.

Music: Not today!

Any notable cut scene: Not today!

Quote: Shyla: “Oh, uh, your ride to the airport just pulled up outside.” Kilbride: “I thought I told you to cancel that flight.” Shyla: “Did you? Oh, I-I don't remember.” Kilbride: “You remember everything. That's why I hired you.” Shyla: “Do you still want me to cancel it? Bear in mind, it is nonrefundable and I know how much you hate wasting money. Not to mention missing an opportunity to see your son after all these years...” Kilbride: “All right, all right, I'm leaving. Remind me to fire you when I get back.”

Anything else: A gentleman is out walking his dog in a small park area surrounded by businesses. The dog, Rebel, starts barking and jumps into a bush. Returning to his owner, Rebel gifts the man a dead squirrel, which was not on the man’s breakfast meal plan. The man’s phone rings – it is an older, flip phone. A text message reads “DHRISHTADYUMNA”. The man breaks the phone in half and tosses his phone, causing Rebel to play fetch. While the dog is away, a person wearing a ski mask shoots the dog owner in the back of the dead. Rebel returns to his fallen owner and sits right next to him because dogs are the best.

At a table by a coffee shop, Fatima, Rountree, Jordyn and FBI Agent Summer Morehurst are chatting. Fatima is teasing Rountree for yelling “Federal Agents” as they were trailing a suspect. The suspect ran (because he’s obviously watched the show). “Tree” caught the guy after a 10-minute chase. Jordyn is all in for the Rountree mocking. Rountree always liked to show off how fast he was. He’d forget to give Jordyn her school lunch on purpose and then run alongside the school bus to give it to her like Keanu Reeves. And she hated his lunches – avocados and bean sprouts. She was 14 and didn’t want to eat that stuff back then. Summer says she’s not interested in eating it now. Rountree says it all worked out for the best. Jordyn aced her MCATs and is on her way to medical school. Summer starts mocking “Treefontaine” when she gets a call – FBI wants to see her. Jordyn is off to class as well.

Shyla is giving a not paying attention Admiral Kilbride notice about a meeting with his British and Australian counterparts. Still not paying attention. She would be willing to go. Still not paying attention. Kensi and Deeks are out because Rosa’s aunt had a stroke. Still not paying attention. Office minutiae like the security system doing a reboot and Agent Castor’s performance review aren’t capturing the Admiral’s attention either. Shyla mentions a radioactive group of pubescent turtles foiling and armed robbery at the Santa Monica Pier and nothing. Shyla sees a suitcase and realizes that he’s flying up to San Francisco to see his son. She will arrange transport to the airport at 7PM but he wants to leave at 7:30PM – he’s not much of an airport guy. With spring break, Shyla recommends the earlier departure time but the Admiral promises her he’ll be fine. Eventually he relents but warns Shyla that if he is stuck with a “posse of frat boys you will never hear the end of it.” She thinks that would be a great story. As Shyla leaves, the Admiral wants a BOLO on the turtles and their giant rat leader – can’t have mutant vigilantes running around.

Sam walks in to the bullpen, greeting Callen. On Sam’s desk is a printout of a man in a tuxedo. Callen explains it is the tuxedo Anna, sorry, he and Anna, want Sam to wear to the wedding. Sam thinks he can dress himself. Callen brings up Anna’s, his and Anna’s color palate for the wedding. The tux is just for Sam. “Is this your way of asking me to be your best man?” Callen thought Sam being the best man was a given. Sam’s not so sure. Callen has been spending quality time with Castor – they had some drinks and dinner after Castor was knocked out by Miraslava. Sam notes that Castor worships Callen, even dresses like him. Castor arrives, dressed similarly to Callen. Callen breaks down and asks if Sam would be his best man. Of course, Sam replies but he hates the tux. Callen agrees.

Shyla walks down the stairs. Callen asks if they have a case. She replies “you tell me” as she brings them up to Ops. Once in Ops, she launches all the security protocols that lock the door, shut the shutters and turn down the lights. She was sent two encrypted files through a DOD top secret/special compartmented information channel, JWICS. The first file is the driver’s license for the man the park – John Jenkins. He’s the CEO for a software company. The second file is the ID card of an FBI Analyst, Patrick Hertel. Both men were found dead that morning. Hertel was killed in his backyard, Jenkins in the park. There were numbers with the file – eight, 11 and 22. Maybe August 11, 2022.

Callen isn’t interested in figuring out what eight, 11 and 22 mean. JWICS files are sent by known people. Who sent the file? Shyla doesn’t know, it came from a SCIF on the border of Turkey and Syria, the town of Al-Rai. It was Hetty’s last known location, who else would send cryptic clues. Shyla seems excited –“are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” Callen confirms – Hetty.

In the Admiral’s office, Callen makes the case that to Kilbride that the JWICS file came from Hetty. The Admiral wants to know why she would send the names for two men and some random numbers. It isn’t an urgent message, it is a top secret butt dial according to the Admiral. He’s checked – the SCIF was closed months ago. Callen thinks Hetty could have routed the JWICS through the SCIF but if she did that, why didn’t she identify herself the Admiral asks. Maybe Hetty thinks JWICS is compromised according to Callen. More being a pain in the ass according to Kilbride. Callen wants to investigate the victims to see if there is anything there. Since Hetty bailed Kilbride out with the Simon Williams case, Callen can investigate as long as he stays in his lane – stay away from the official investigations.

Fatima and Rountree show up at Hertel’s home, which is covered with police tape. They start to work on a story to get involved with the case when they see Summer working the case. She comes to see Rountree and Fatima, who think there is a connection between Hertel’s killing and an NCIS investigation into John Jenkins. Summer starts asking questions and Rountree drops “national security”. Since Rountree and Fatima can’t share their info on Jenkins, which is none other than Callen and Sam are investigating what Hetty sent, Summer can’t working with them. When they can share, so can she. Hertel is FBI – they’re working for one of their own.

At the park area, Callen learns from LAPD that all the cameras were down due to routine maintenance when Jenkins was walking his dog. Callen also shares that Summer is working the Hertel case. Sam thinks it was a robbery – no wallet, no keys, no phone and the killer took away the shell casings. LAPD found half the phone in Rebel’s mouth. Callen gives Shyla a call. She has not found a link between Jenkins and Hertel yet.

Looking into Jenkins, his start up tech company has one employee – Jenkins. They haven’t created a product in the last five years. Jenkins and his company have been doing very well, despite offering no products. He’s likely laundering money. Asked about family, Shyla tells Callen and Sam that Jenkins was adopted and his adopted parents are long dead. Turning back to the crime scene, if the dog found one half of the phone, Sam would like to see if he could find the other half.

Back at the FBI crime scene, Rountree sees an older couple arrive and go right under the police tape. Fatima is on the phone. Rountree calls for Summer, who is a bit embarrassed. She asks about the older couple – they are Hertel’s adopted parents. An arriving Fatima, who was on the phone hears adopted and notes that Jenkins was also adopted. Summer isn’t impressed until Fatima tells her both men were shot in the back of the head to make it look like a robbery. Summer never told them how Hertel was killed. NCIS is now part of the FBI crime scene.

Callen and Sam talk about Callen setting a date but Anna is giving him time to find Hetty. Sam hopes this is the case that gets them to Hetty. Callen doesn’t believe that. If Hetty wanted to be found, Hetty would be found. She would tell them where to find her. Callen wants to get married and it is unfair to make Anna wait so long. Sam is looking forward to his best man speech – he has a lot of wisdom to share. Callen thinks he’s heard most of Sam’s wisdom but the wisdom is for Anna, who needs to know what she’s really getting herself into. Callen is having second thoughts about Castor. The dog finds the other part of the phone.

As the Admiral arrives in Ops, Shyla has an update about eight, 11 and 22. Both Jenkins and Hertel went through the LA foster care system. They are both single, in their 40’s and both had government jobs. Hertel is with the FBI, Jenkins is an NSA Analyst. He’s not in most common databases for the NSA. Shyla learned about his NSA role through some friends in Washington. Shyla is about to call this in to Callen and Sam but the Admiral wants her to way. He needs her to pull some files instead.

Hertel was watering his plants when his killer walked up behind him and fired one shot into his head. There was no cartridges left behind, just like the Jenkins crime scene. Summer apologizes for stonewalling NCIS. Fatima says they would have likely done the same if the roles were reversed. Summer doesn’t understand the connection between the two killings.

Fatima gets a call from Shyla, who asks if Hertel has a birthmark on his back. A little reluctantly, Fatima asks Summer to pull up Hertel’s shirt. There is a rather large birthmark on his back. The Admiral, with Shyla, wants her to call Callen. When Callen answers, he starts a sit-rep for Shyla but the Admiral stops things. Eight, 11 and 22 are people, not numbers. Hertel and Jenkins were eight and 22 from the Drona Project, “your alma mater Agent Callen.” Callen has a flashback to his time with Drona.

The Hertel-Jenkins cases are now joint FBI-NCIS investigations. Shyla is told by Kilbride to share everything they have on the case except Hetty’s involvement. Since Hetty’s involvement was speculation anyway, Shyla wasn’t going to share it. With subjects eight and 22 accounted for, who is subject 11? That is Leah Novak, who Callen contacted in the prior year. Callen is trying to find Novak now.

Callen calls Leah who doesn’t want to talk to him. She is walking through a really sketchy looking indoor parking lot. There is a team of masked men following her. Sam tries to get Leah to listen to him but the masked men open fire. Shyla, who was monitoring the phone call is able to trace Leah’s location to a Mid-City parking garage.

In the garage, Callen and Sam find an empty shopping bag with wrapped up money inside. Callen sees a badly wounded Leah, who says “14” before losing consciousness.

Returning to Ops, Fatima and Rountree are told by Shyla that Leah is in surgery. With someone targeting Drona subject, Callen could be in danger. Rountree disagrees – Hetty would have warned Callen in her JWICS communications if he was in trouble. The Admiral arrives, warning Rountree not to read too much into anything Hetty does. There is another Drona subject who may be danger – number 14. The Admiral wants Shyla to cancel is flight to San Francisco to see his son. As he leaves, Shyla tells Rountree and Fatima to go to the gadget area to study Jenkins’s phone. When she knows who number 14 is, she’ll update them.

There was brass left behind at the Leah’s shooting which means she likely hit at least two of her assailants. Callen found a go-bag in Leah’s car with water, MREs and a satellite phone. She knew she was in danger. Sam thinks the same of Jenkins – that’s likely why he tossed his phone. Callen thinks Pembrook is behind the killings – Callen found him and is now cleaning up what’s left behind of Drona.

While Rountree is sweet talking Summer, Fatima is working on Jenkins’s phone. Once in, Rountree is off his phone and working with Fatima. The “DHRISHTADYUMNA” text message is the name of a Hindu warrior who killed his teacher Drona. There are contacts in the phone – Hertel and Leah Novak are there. So is an Anthony Beltran, a former Army Ranger turned history professor. Fatima sends his address to Callen and Sam.

As Callen and Sam pull up outside of Beltran’s home, Beltran is putting a duffle bag into his trunk. When Callen and Sam try to speak to Beltran, Beltran runs. Callen makes things worse by yelling “federal agents” while Sam gets in his car to cut Beltran off. Beltran starts shooting at Callen, who promises they are not there to hurt Beltran. “Leah sent us.” Beltran is talked into putting his gun down. Callen introduces himself as Special Agent Grisha Callen, subject 17. He assures Beltran he’s safe.

In the boat shed, Beltran is in interrogation while Callen and Sam in the main room. The duffle bag in Beltran’s truck had MREs, cash, burner phones. He also got the same text message sent to Jenkins before Jenkins was killed. Callen wonders who sent the text message and Hetty earns a message. Callen isn’t pleased – this is Hetty training an agent, people are being murdered.

Shyla pops up on the screen. There was one vehicle seen on security/traffic cams at the Jenkins/Hertel/Leah shootings. Backtracking with Kaleidoscope, Shyla traced the vehicle to a building downtown. Rountree and Fatima are going to the building and Sam will meet them. Callen wonders why he’s not going but Sam wants answers from Beltran. Callen is the best person to get the answers.

Callen starts to question Beltran, who won’t sit on the wrong side of the table right away, wanting to stand instead. Beltran eventually sits. As an alibi, Beltran says he was home when Jenkins and Hertel were killed. Callen asks about the text message. Beltran was preparing a lesson – he teaches ancient history – and missed the message when it was sent. Once he saw it, however, he called Leah. Leah told him about Jenkins and Hertel. Beltran put his phone in his garbage disposal, packed his things and was going to hit the road when Callen and Sam drove up.

Beltran thought Callen and Sam were working for “him” – Howard Pembrook. Beltran shows Callen scars on his arm from Pembrook’s abuse. Jenkins, Hertel, Leah and Beltran started working together a year ago, after Callen told Leah about Pembrook. They wanted to take him down with lawsuits. There was talk about bringing Callen in but the men in the group were angry Callen lied to Leah. Beltran believes Pembrook found out about them and now he’s having them killed. Beltran wants to see Leah – they are “very close.”

With Summer’s FBI team 30-minutes out, Sam, Rountree and Fatima in tactical gear go into the downtown building. The vehicle has not returned to the location. This is their best chance to scope out the building. Sam breaks down the door. It is a warehouse with huge computer servers, a desk, file cabinets. While Fatima and Shyla try to get into the server, Rountree finds a photo of Callen on the wall from when he was in Pembrook’s garden.

Callen shows Beltran the photo and explains he was trying to confront Pembrook about the past. Pembrook was fine. Beltran is interested in what was in the building where Sam, Fatima and Rountree are. He’s also furious at Callen for going to see Pembrook. Everything bad that’s happened started when Callen met Pembrook. If this was true, Callen asks, why didn’t Pembrook go after him? Beltran talks about the lawsuit being a bigger threat. Castor appears – the doctor says Beltran can see Leah now. In Leah’s room, she’s on a ventilator. Beltran is holding Leah’s hand, saying Pembrook must pay.

As Fatima and Shyla get access to the server, the previously opened files pop up. There were files for black-ops missions in Crimea, Somalia and Brazil. Pembrook is still in the game. An audio file has Leah and Jenkins using their Drona numbers as they work on a mission. They aren’t being targeted by Pembrook, they work for Pembrook. Sam can’t contact Shyla to warn Callen – signal jammers knocked out the cell service. Gunmen rush near Sam, Fatima and Rountree. Gunfire is exchanged. Fatima and Rountree are pinned down.

Sam is able to get Fatima and Rountree to a safer location – people are still shooting. If they can hold out, the FBI could rescue them but Sam is more worried the FBI is walking into an ambush. More gunfire is exchanged. Sam takes out at least one of the shooter.

In Leah’s room, Callen gets a call from Shyla about the lost comms with Sam and company. The Summer-led FBI team suddenly is unreachable too. Callen is going to the building, Castor will take Beltran back to boat shed. Beltran wants to stay with Leah. He’s not worried about his safety, he just wants to be with her. Callen realizes there were only three Drona subject numbers – eight, 11 and 22. Hertel, Leah and Jenkins. Beltran wasn’t on the list – he was never warned.

Rountree is willing to create a diversion by running – but not in a show-offy way. Fatima thinks he’ll get killed. Sam assures them nobody is getting killed today. He has a plan.

Callen has his weapon out and orders Beltran away from Leah. Leah said 14 to Callen before losing consciousness – Beltran was 14. Callen knocks on the door to get Castor in as back-up. Beltran is impressed that Callen figured it all out but is more impressed with his own handy work when a Drona gunman, not Castor, walks into the hospital room.

Using some flashbangs, Sam, Fatima and Rountree move the people shooting them out of their secure locations. Once they were seen, team NCIS shoot them. Summer and the FBI arrive. Sam finds the signal jammer and shuts it off, he’s quick to contact Callen.

Explaining that once again, Agent Castor is out cold, Beltran takes Callen’s gun. Beltran doesn’t kill people who don’t deserve it – he didn’t have Castor killed, won’t kill Callen. Callen notes that Beltran was going to kill Leah, who was in a coma in a hospital bed. Beltran wasn’t going to kill her – she’s no longer a threat. He just needed eyes on her to make sure. Beltran says he and Callen are on the same side – they want to kill Pembrook. Beltran’s partner has a sedative prepared for Callen – not going to kill Callen, just a long nap like Castor. Callen hits the partner. Beltran runs and after Callen gets the sedative in the leg, he runs after Beltran. As Callen runs after Beltran, he has some Pembrook flashbacks before the sedative takes hold. Callen is out cold and Beltran is gone.

Shyla updates Kilbride. Callen and Castor are fine – it really was just a sedative. Beltran and his partner are gone but the FBI are hunting them down. Shyla also has Kilbride’s ride to the airport waiting outside of the office. She doesn’t remember his order to cancel the flight. Kilbride is not amused – he hired her because she never forgets anything. She offers to cancel the flight but is non-refundable. The Admiral hates wasting money, according to Shyla. “Remind me to fire you when I get back.” And the Admiral is off.

In the Armory, Fatima and Rountree are packing up their things. Fatima asks about a story Summer started at breakfast. Seems Rountree and Summer were having a lovely walk on the beach when the wind kicked up. Summer’s hat went flying and Rountree went flying after it. As he was catching up, he destroyed a kid’s sandcastle. He got the hat back and then spent an hour helping the kid rebuild the castle. Fatima thinks Rountree really likes Summer. He admits he does but realizes he’s late for dinner with Summer. He races away.

Callen is at the back balcony in the boat shed when Sam arrives. Callen said had Beltran and he let Beltran get away. And maybe he did it because he wants Beltran to kill Pembrook. But if Beltran kills anyone else, well, Callen knows that’s his fault. Sam thinks they need to find Beltran and Pembrook. Callen wants to know how Hetty knew the Drona subjects were being targeted. “Add it to the list,” Sam replies. Callen is going for a drink with Castor. Sam notes that it is the second time Castor got knocked out and lost his gun – maybe Castor shouldn’t be trusted with the wedding ring. Callen tells Best Man Sam to knock it off.

What head canon can be formed from here: So done with the Drona/Callen’s childhood storyline. The program has a handful of episode left and this one and one down the road eat up valuable time with this tedious storyline. And the episode down the road – where I will be screeching about retconning Pembrook – could have been used for more of Rountree’s history beside his sister, more of Fatima’s history period, more of Sam with Raymond, Kensi’s mom’s with Rosa. There were other “personal history” episodes besides this nonsense.

As for the episode itself, it was really well done, if a bit talky, for a set-up episode for what comes in episode 19. It was all about Pembrook without Pembrook physically in the episode (flashbacks don’t count). It is still up in the air if Beltran, Leah, Jenkins and Hertel are villains or victims. Beltran is a mess – no issue with killing Leah, Jenkins and Hertel but knockout syringes for Callen and poor Agent Castor. The Drona drama is such a mess.

Episode number: Episode number 16 in season 14. This is the 318th episode overall.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #ncis la

5 notes · View notes

allylikethecat · 8 months

Text

January OTP Prompts

I have attempted to go back to my roots and write a "Fictional!Matty breaks his wrist" prompt fill. I'm not totally happy with how it has come out but I am not allowing myself to obsess over these the way I sometimes do my chaptered fics, so alas here it is, being tossed into the world as is. Thank you so much for reading and being so lovely with your support!

26. Broken

George knew it was broken the second Matty hit the ground. A loud crack echoed in his ears even though he knew it was impossible to have heard it over the roar of the crowd, over the sound of their music filling the arena. It would have been impossible to hear, competing with the cheers of thousands of fans. Matty’s face had gone white, and he instinctively brought his wrist to his chest, missing the next two lines of People. Thankfully the crowd didn’t notice, enthusiastically screaming Matty’s lyrics back at him, filling in the gaps.

George waved to the crowd, tossing his drum sticks into the sea of people before the platform lowered them out of sight. He knew that people were going to over analyze the end of the show, rewatching fan video after fan video. George felt a surge of annoyance for the TikTok groupies who only seemed interested in capturing them at their worst, shoving their camera phones into Matty’s face instead of appreciating the art he was trying to share with them. They would be positively salivating when they realized they had caught the moment that Matty broke his wrist on video. George’s heart ached, hating that he was unable to protect Matty from being violated in that way.

They were quickly herded backstage, Matty looked unsteady on his feet, stepping into George’s space, seeking out comfort when he typically peacocked his way through the crowd. He was still holding his wrist to his chest, his face pale and his nose scrunched up in pain, like he was hyper focused on trying to control his breathing, trying to appear unaffected until they were out of sight. George tried not to think about the way that from what he could see, Matty’s wrist was bent at an unnatural angle.

The second they were backstage, out of the line of fans' sight, Matty was doubled over a trash bin, throwing up a watery mix of bile and the wine he had drank throughout the course of the show. George rubbed his back as he was sick, murmuring sweet nothings of comfort.

“I think it’s broken,” said Matty wetly, his voice horse from their two hour show, and from vomiting. George winced.

“I think you’re right, love,” he said softly. Hann appeared a moment later holding a water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and handed it to Matty who took it gratefully and rinsed out his mouth, spitting into the trash can.

George felt helpless. He needed to get their tour manager, he needed to find one of the paramedics milling around the backstage area. He needed to tell someone that Matty was injured. He needed to tell them that he needed to go to the hospital, he needed to be taken for x-rays. He needed the doctor’s to fix him, to patch him back up because he was Matty. Instead he did not do those things, not wanting to leave Matty’s side, not wanting to remove the hand that had settled on his hip in comfort. He was worried if he stepped away, Matty would disappear. Matty wasn’t allowed to disappear.

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

#allylikethecat #January OTP Prompts #Matty Fic #Gatty #Prompt Fill #Prompt Fills #I think im getting a little burnt out on these if i'm being perfectly honest #thank goodness we have almost made it the entire month!

13 notes · View notes

autumnslance · 2 years

Text

Year of OTP - February 2023 - Linkpearl

(Prompt post here. Wolcred, early relationship, Stormblood Patches between 4.2-4.3, 1150 words, 2 images.)

When Aeryn answered the chiming linkpearl, Thancred’s familiar voice crackled on the other side of the line. “I received your letter.”

She smiled, setting her pen in its well and leaning back in her desk chair. The muted morning sounds of Kugane filtered in through the room’s single window along with gray, pre-dawn light. “Might I expect a response in kind?”

“Most assuredly.” He paused, and then in anticipation of her next question said: “Call me sentimental, but I also wished to hear your voice.”

The expected blush warmed her face as a giddiness rushed through her, as if she were some young schoolgirl; Aeryn still wasn't quite sure how he elicited such responses in her. She also didn’t know what to say to that, so shifted instead to, “What time is it there? Have you slept?”

A self-deprecating chuckle came from the other end. “I wasn’t certain you’d be awake yet, though your habits suggested otherwise and so I took the chance. It is rather late here, as mine own habits tend to keep me awake, but I do intend to retire shortly. I’m even laying in my bunk, lest you’re wondering.”

In her mind’s eye she could see the old monk cell in Rhalgr’s Reach that he had claimed, away from the other Scions and officers in the main halls of the former temple. The level Thancred had chosen required scaling a broken wall as if it were a particularly uneven and rickety stair; most people weren’t aware of it, hidden off one of the side passages, away from the main bustle of the Resistance headquarters. He had set up camp in the austere room, only a few comforts available.

Aeryn had spent a small handful of nights there in recent moons, curled up with him for warmth and companionship. Her blush warmed and spread as she recalled their last night together there, involving far more than simply sleeping.

Such things were still so strangely new—but now here they were on opposite sides of the world again, speaking over a faint connection.

“So you’re using your special pearl, with a mostly-secured channel, for a bedtime call?” She tried to sound teasing.

“Reckless, I know, but the aether currents were forecasted to be good for it. And I was prompted by a lovely memory of you sitting at the window wearing only my shirt as you read a book.”

Her blush flared again and she suppressed a nervous giggle. “Really?” She tried to sound deadpan, but just barely failed.

“Really,” he replied lightly, and then came a sly “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Considering it’s you, it could have been anything. But I cannot be too surprised, you’ve ever been fond of ladies’ aesthetics.”

Thancred laughed, the sound popping along the thin aetheric link. “I certainly cannot deny that. And it was a very pretty ‘aesthetic’, your long tan legs against the pale cloth, and the faces you make when reading, mouthing the lines to yourself.”

“I do not make faces nor mouth the lines.”

An amused, choked snort came from the other end. “You very much do, my dear, and it’s quite endearing.”

Something flip-flopped at how he said ‘my dear’. She would have to interrogate that later. “If you say so; no one else has commented on it.”

“They’re not typically watching you read fiction. Nor, I suspect, do they watch as closely as I do.”

“You are trained for it,” she conceded.

“A definite bonus of my profession. And certainly helps the imagination while you’re in the East again and I yet remain in Gyr Abania.”

“How are things there?”

“Mm, I’ll save those details for my report and letter. I’m far more interested in what you wore to bed.”

“What?”

“Did the connection break up?” He teased. “I asked what you’re wearing.”

“My undershirt and sleep shorts, what else?”

He chuckled in a way that sent another sort of heat down her spine and she still wasn’t sure how he did that. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected differently.”

“I’m about to wash up and get dressed for the day, actually.”

“Now that’s another lovely image, water pouring over your bare skin—”

“Thancred!” She hissed, face feeling fully on fire now. “You remember at least two other people have access to this supposedly secure line?!” It had been his idea to keep the recent shift in their relationship secret—not to mention she had no wish for Riol and especially not Alphinaud to hear such things.

“Only if we connect them, and I also doubt either will call for us at this hour.” His pitch lowered. “Hence my taking the risk to call you for more personal reasons.”

Aeryn found herself crossing her legs as more of that other heat pulsed low in her core at his tone. “You’re incorrigible,” she said. She almost wished she sounded sterner.

“So I have been told,” he replied. The connection cracked and wavered, and she heard his grunt of annoyance. “And there go the currents; our time is woefully coming to an end.” He sounded further away and scratchier now.

“It was nice to talk even briefly,” she said. A wicked thought came to mind; he deserved a little payback for his teasing, didn’t he? “Though I may have to please myself now before getting ready for the day.”

There was a brief pause, and she thought she’d already lost him when he laughed again. “You minx! Now there’s an image to take with me into sleep!”

She dropped her head to her arms on the desktop, resigned to looking and feeling like she had thrown herself into Hell’s Lid. “Then I hope you have a good night, and I look forward to your letter.”

“Indeed; I’ll be in touch again soon, darl—”

A staticky hiss, and the link dropped.

She bit her lip at the cutoff word, the way he had been saying it causing another flip-flop. He left her so off-balance. Though she had to admit liking that feeling more than she had ever expected.

Sounds of others in the halls of the Ruby Bazaar made her sigh and stand; time to wash, get dressed, eat breakfast, and see if either Nashu or Jenomis had any news while waiting on word from Hien.

And try not to be distracted by thoughts of the man waiting for her back in Eorzea; these rare, tentative moments of communication building the yet-fragile frame of this new stage in their relationship. Aeryn did not mind it—mostly, as she attempted to douse some of her heated reactions from just his voice and words—as it gave time and patience to whatever this was becoming.

Still, she could admit to herself at least that she was eager to conclude their business in Othard and return home, where she could be with Thancred, instead of reliant upon letters and linkpearls.

((Some headcanon applied, but mostly linkpearl lore (up through HW) can be found here and I extrapolated off what little we have.))

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Lyn Edits #Stormblood #Thancred Waters #linkpearls #Thancred x WoL #wolcred #Shippy Nonsense #Aeryn Striker #YOTP 2023 #long distance #teasing #girl doesn't get it

44 notes · View notes

yukidragon · 2 years

Note

Is there any picture of Alice’s family? It would be cool to see them or doodle an idea what they look like :0

Sadly, I haven't been able to draw for a while now due to health reasons, and it might be a while longer before I can again. (Don't worry, it's nothing serious.) A friend of mine offered to draw the oldest three King girls for me though, which is super sweet of her.

I have made picrews of some of the family members to serve as a general idea to work from when I do eventually draw them. It's what I did before drawing Alice's concept sheet too. I find picrews to a good place to consider character appearance in broad strokes.

I'll share some of those picrews with you all if you're curious about my current general ideas. Remember, their designs (and some of their names) aren't completely set in stone yet, as I still need to draw them when I can. This just helps me better get a picture in my mind of what they look like.

As a heads up, each individual picrew can be pretty limited in its options. Sometimes skin tone, eye color, hair type, etc. just won't match with the look I'm going for. These are just the picrews that come closest to what I have in mind right now.

First up is Mama King, who I'm considering naming Lycoris or Lily.

Picrew

Soft, sweet, cuddly, short of stature but big of heart, Mama King absolutely loves her family more than anything else in the world. There's nothing she won't do to protect them and what they love.

Mama King is not only a great mother, but she's also fantastic at growing plants and has won many awards over the years. This is what led to a pretty good business online selling flowers that have been made into charming jewelry and other forms of art by her creative and loving spouse.

The family home has a decent sized plot of land to allow Mama to grow as many plants as she likes. Her gardens are truly a sight to behold, and her one of a kind flowers are to die for.

As you might have guessed, Alice has gotten a few features from her mom, such as her height, curly hair, and her wonderfully soft and cuddly hugs. The coloration, however, was something she inherited from her Papa.

Picrew

I'm still trying to decide on Papa King's name, but I've got a pretty solid idea of what he looks like. Tall, slender, and pale, this proud papa stands out in a crowd, though sometimes under some shade with sunscreen and shades on if it's someplace out in the sunlight. Sadly, being albino means you're more prone to sunburns, and his eyes are more sensitive than most. The picrew can't really give what I have in mind justice, but their eyes are a mixture of pale blue and red due to the lack of pigment.

Papa King is a sensitive soul who loves creating stylish trinkets and jewelry. He struggles with conflict, so their wife is his knight in shining armor much of the time, and that's one of the reasons why they fell in love with her. He also loves their wonderful children, as well as all the cats and dogs the family own. Though quite the homebody, his life is very full with such a busy house and their creative projects, as well as running the business he owns with their wife.

The oldest child of the King family probably doesn't really need an introduction. I mean, I drew Alice and mentioned her on this tumblr plenty of times before. Still, it feels sad to leave her out, so here's a picrew of her and Jack holding hands and dressed for a date.

Picrew

Why yes I'm shameless about my OTP. Welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy the sweet vanilla and spice.

Eventually I'll make a post with the picrews that I used to help me make Alice's concept sheet, but that's for another time. Now onto the next child in this big, happy family.

Picrew

The second oldest was named Barbara Anne, but you'd be forgiven for not knowing that, as everyone calls her Barbie, with her siblings sometimes just calling her Bar. (Alice was the one who first started using that particular nickname when they were very little and it just stuck around.)

Barbie is practically the opposite of her sweet and doting parents. She's a prickly, snarky, and sarcastic misanthrope who prefers animals and 2D characters to humans. Her personality and large stature are usually enough to ward people off. She's taken after her dad with her height and her mom with having a larger frame. Though she's a nerdy otaku, if she hits you, it's going to hurt.

Barbie isn't shy to let people know to back off and leave her alone, quick to deliver barbs and tease others mercilessly if they don't buzz off. Still, like any true tsundere, get past her prickly exterior and there's a softer side that's full of genuine love and affection waiting underneath. The only people she cares about currently are her family and the few friends she made online... and eventually a suitor who is going to need to be a good boy and heel at her command if he wants a chance of making puppies with her.

The most striking thing about Barbie is her eyes. She has central heterochromia, which means both of her eyes are a mixture of brown and blue, not unlike how Papa King's are a mixture of red and blue. She practically lives in t-shirts and sweatpants, which often are themed around anime and games she likes, or offensive snark. Her hair is always a mess, and she keeps it cropped short most of the time so that she doesn't have to bother with it.

Barbie is good with computers and isn't above a little hacking or trolling. Though she's moved out of the King house, she's doing just fine in her own apartment, making money by scamming crypto scammers and the like, among other more legitimate and actually legal jobs.

Don't tell anyone about her secret double life as a streamer with a cutesy anime waifu virtual avatar. She'll make your life hell if you do.

Picrew

Next up is Coraline. I already made a post talking about her and showing off a few of her picrews, so I'll just lightly touch on what I have in mind for her design. She's average height (making her a little taller than big sis Alice), with brown eyes, looks very sickly, and while most of her very curly hair is brown, it lacks some pigment in places. She still lives at home due to her health, and every morning Mama braids her hair up nice and neat, only for it to eventually come increasingly undone and messy by the end of the day. She favors comfortable clothes like sweaters and sweatpants.

The most signature piece of Coraline's look is her pendant. I've actually mentioned the pendant before in a previous post... or at least Alice's version of the pendant and the fact that each King child got one when they were born.

Mama King proposed to Papa with a bouquet of blue roses that she grew specially for them . Blue roses are said to be an impossible flower naturally, very rare, and growing them was her way of showing that she loved him enough to do the impossible for them. Papa preserved each one of the flowers in resin and whenever they're expecting a child, he crafts one into a custom necklace for the child, which is engraved with the baby's name and the date of their birth after they're born.

As an aside, if one of the kids ever wanted to change their name for whatever reason, Papa would be more than happy to alter the inscription to their new name.

The rest of the kids are vague as of the moment, but I know there are at least 4 more of them. They'll be fleshed out eventually over time, along with the pets and any other details about this happy family.

I hope you liked what I've got to share with you so far about the King family, and thanks for showing interest in them. I'm always happy to know that people enjoy my OCs. 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Dachabo #The Groom of Gallagher Mansion #TheGroomOfGallagherMansion #Picrew Art #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

34 notes · View notes

bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear.

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there.

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself.

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games.

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...”

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work."

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church.

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family.

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee.

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road.

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat.

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it.

She was also deadly serious.

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations.

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep.

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes.

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair.

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking.

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either."

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs.

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides.

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill.

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?"

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?"

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk.

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?"

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone; the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!".

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that.

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away,"

He regretted it as soon as it came out.

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip.

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything?

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way.

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too.

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion.

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from.

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @ao719 @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @ofpixelsandscribbles @amandablink @cordoniaqueensworld @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @cordonia-gothqueen @tinkie1973

#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

117 notes · View notes

typingtess · 2 years

Video

youtube

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 13 Rewatch: “Down the Rabbit Hole”

The basics: Katya kidnaps Callen and the team is on the case.

Written and directed by Frank Military. Military wrote "Little Angels", "Deliverance", "Lockup", "The Job", "Greed", "Betrayal", "Crimeleon", "Vengeance", "Out of the Past" Part One, "Rude Awakenings" Part Two, season four’s finale "Descent", season five’s premiere "Ascension", "Allegiance", "Spoils of War" (directed by Military), "Black Budget", "SEAL Hunter", "Rage" (directed by Military), "Unspoken", "Unlocked Mind", "Revenge Deferred", "The Seventh Child" (directed by Military), "Crazy Train", "Uncaged" (directed by Military), "The Silo", "Monster", "Line in the Sand" (directed by Military), season ten opener "To Live and Die in Mexico" (directed by Military), "The Patton Project", "Better Angels", "False Flag" (the season 10 finale), "A Bloody Brilliant Plan", "Code of Conduct" (season 11 finale, directed by Military) and "Raising the Dead", "Through the Looking Glass" and "Indentured". Military directed one episode he did not write, season 11’s holiday episode "Answers". He also appeared as Donald Kessler in "Raising the Dead" and several other episodes in photos.

Guest stars of note: Bar Paly as Anastasia "Anna" Kolcheck and Beckett Gunderson as Young Callen are both back from "Genesis" in April. Elizabeth Bogush is back from “Subject 17” as Joelle Taylor. Sasha Clements as Katya Miranova, Karolina Szymczak as Vavara/Female Fire Captain, Andrei Dolezal as Young Pembrook and Jamil Akim O’Quinn as Detective Michael McNeil.

Our heroes: Rid themselves of Katya with some Joelle help.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Kidnapped. Sam: Greatest partner in the world. Kensi: Working with Rountree. Deeks: In Guatemala. Fatima: Using Kaleidoscope the whole episode. Rountree: Working with Kensi. Kilbride: Figures out the best course of action is to start in the past.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Loves Anna. Sam: Loves Callen. Kensi: Not deep faked. Deeks: Absent. Fatima: In the office the entire episode. Rountree: Always checking for bombs now. Kilbride: Not particularly ranty today.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Gets a mention from Katya.

Who's down with OTP: In the episode, nothing. In the short deleted scene, Kensi is worried about Deeks being gone.

Who's down with BrOTP: Callen code phrase to Sam is “greatest partner in the world” while Sam’s is “I love you”. You don’t get much more BrOTP than that.

Fashion review: Callen is wearing a peacock blue button-down shirt. Sam is wearing a brick red long-sleeve tee. Kensi is back in the white and blue striped long-sleeve tee (a lot of use for that top at the end of this season). Fatima is wearing a green-grey sweater over a darker green turtleneck. Rountree is wearing a pink-tee shirt under a blue-green jacket. A dark blue three-piece suit with a pale blue shirt and blue tie.

Music: None.

Any notable cut scene: In the firing range, Kensi and Rountree are set up and shooting. When Kensi finishes her practice session, Rountree asks about Deeks coming come the next day. Kensi says “Can’t wait,” but sounds sad. Rountree asks if Kensi is OK. Kensi says sure, her husband is down in Guatemala with no badge, authority or gun. Rountree thought Deeks was down there gathering paperwork. He is but there was more than just the paperwork.

Rosa’s father didn’t abandon the family, he was murdered by MS-13. He was a journalist who wrote about the gangs and was killed for it. That helps Rosa’s asylum request/Kensi and Deeks’s adoption plans since it proves Rosa was fleeing to the US for her own safety. All true, Kensi tells Rountree but Deeks has to gather witness statements, police reports. Rountree reassures Kensi that Deeks will be home tomorrow.

Fatima enters the firing range with a situation – Katya made contact. She is sending them to meet with Sam.

Quote: "Sam Hanna, greatest partner in the world.”

Anything else: An impatient Callen is sitting in traffic. There are accidents in both directions on the highway. Fatima calls to set up a shared call with Sam. Callen greets Sam with a compliment – “Sam Hanna, greatest partner in the world.” Sam replies that “someone took a happy pill.” Everyone laughs as Fatima tells both men that Marshall Davis is back and the weapons deal planned for next month is going down today. Davis was arriving in LA today and wanted to meet with a Stewart Grimes at 9:30AM in Davis’s office to work out the details. NCIS has been staking out Davis’s office for a month – they need to be ready to roll.

Pulling out of traffic and onto a side street, Callen parks his car and opens the trunk. In his go-bag are several phones. When Sam answers, Callen repeats the “Sam Hanna, greatest partner in the world” statement. Sam tells Callen he loves him. The conversation was code. Checking with Sam, Callen learns that he wasn’t on the phone minutes ago. Sam is surprised the deep fake call was with two people. “That’s got to be Katya.” Whatever Katya has planned, it is starting now. Callen half-jokes that Sam saying I love you saved him. Sam is going to talk to Fatima about putting their comms on a closed, encrypted loop (shouldn’t they be that way already?).

“It gets worse,” Callen tells Sam. Katya used their case against Marshall Davis to lure Callen in. That has Sam worried – Katya is in their casefiles. Since this case has been going on for months, Katya has been staking them out for a while. Thinking that going to where Katya tried to lure Callen with a team could end their Katya issues. Callen and Sam set up a location near Davis’s office to meet.

As Callen drives to the location, an ambulance and a LA Fire Department SUV are going the wrong way down Callen’s one-way street. Callen tries back out of the street but a firetruck is right behind him. Out of his car and waving his badge, Callen asks one of the firefighters to make a little room so he can get through the street. The firefighter has a weapon in her hand. She hits Callen with some sort of tranquilizer dart. A firefighter behind Callen has a taser. Callen is down for the count. Just to make sure, the dart shooting firefighter punches Callen in the face. The ambulance opens up and a gurney comes out.

As Sam pulls up in the location where he and Callen were supposed to meet, he pulls out his phone and calls Callen. Right to voicemail. Tapping his comms, Sam is connected to Fatima, who tells him that Kensi and Rountree are five minutes out. Sam tells Fatima that Callen isn’t where they were supposed to meet and he was much closer when they spoke. Fatima looks at her tablet – Callen’s comm went offline five minutes ago.

Four women carry Callen into yet another shipping container. Callen is strapped into a chair. The walls are covered with soundproofing material. As the doors are locked, Callen starts coming. There is a big screen TV and Callen is on the TV. He knows it is Katya. Screen-Callen talks about the old TV show This Is Your Life. Katya considers what’s happening now as This is the End of Your Life.

When Kensi and Rountree arrive, Sam updates them. Fatima has video of Callen eight blocks from the meet site, leaving his car and going to the stakeout.

Back in the shipping crate, Screen-Callen is yammering on about becoming obsessed moving on to it being almost sexual. Real Callen wants to know how Katya knew about their case. There is no case – Katya set it all up and the team came buzzing “like good little bees to service your queen.” As the team staked out the office, Katya was able to put trackers on everyone’s cars, listening to their conversations, getting details of everyone’s lives. Katya knows that Callen has been meeting with “that one-legged bitch” – Joelle.

Turning her attention to Anna, Katya asks Callen if he thinks it is strange that the two of them love the same woman. “We” had sex with the same woman. Callen wants to know who is “we” since all he sees is someone like a 14-year old wannabe hacker playing online practical jokes while hiding in their bedroom. Pulling off whatever made her look like Callen, the real Katya is on the screen with a lot of pricey computer equipment behind her. She’s not hiding from Callen.

Since the moment he took Anna from her, all Katya wanted to do was meet Callen, Again, Katya feels he took the most important thing in the world to her. Callen disagrees – he knows what the most important thing in the world is to Katya. Katya insists it was Anna, her last chance at happiness. Thinking Katya can’t live with happiness, all she has is hate and revenge. And they share that because both want to see Howard Pembrook dead.

Calling into Ops, Kensi wants Fatima to contact Anna, see if Callen has spoken to her. Fatima is reviewing security cameras in the area and traffic cams. The Admiral joins Fatima in Ops. Looking at the blocks around the fake office for Marshall Davis, Fatima can’t a trace of Callen in the neighborhood. Sam asks her to check out the office there were using for stakeouts – there was a camera there. Two clicks and Fatima see the power has been cut to the office. Saying that something is “profoundly wrong”, the Admiral is sending in the REACT Team to the office. While the team drives to the office, the Admiral asks about Deeks, who is in Guatemala working on the adoption paperwork. The Admiral isn’t pleased but he’s not angry either.

Not long after Sam, Kensi and Deeks arrive at the office building, the REACT Team shows up. Setting an outside perimeter around the office, Sam, Kensi, Rountree and the REACT Team go into the office building to their stakeout location. In the office, the NCIS chairs, computers and telescopes are there. The office for Marshall Davis, however, now sits empty. One of the REACT Team members gets the power back to the office.

With the power returning, Fatima is able to download what was last on the security video. Putting it up on the computer screen in the office, there is soundless video of Callen walking into the office followed by five women wearing ski masks. The women circle Callen as fourth of them start beating the living hell out of him. The fifth woman looks at the camera and takes off her ski mask – it is Katya.

Knowing that nobody but NCIS is in the office, Sam wants to check the security cameras in and around the building to see how Callen was brought in and taken out. Of course the cameras outside were disabled. Sam saw a new photo of Katya that Callen got from Joelle. The Admiral will have Joelle picked up and brought in. As Kensi and Rountree search every inch of the office for a clue, Sam is on his way to the boatshed.

In the shipping crate, Katya tells Callen that Pembrook has been dead for 25-years. Callen disagrees, even says he spoke to him. Katya wants a name but Callen won’t share unless they meet face-to-face. Katya leaves the fake female firefighter to watch Callen. When Callen asks who his new babysitter is, she replies “I’m the one who made your face not so pretty.” Katya enters in the shipping crate with a warning, Callen is playing with fire if he lies about Pembrook. And by playing with fire, she means burning Callen to death if this is a trick. Callen makes a joke and gets punched twice in the face. Saying that they were trained by the same person, Callen knows whatever Katya is feeling, he’s already felt.

When Katya moves in close to Callen, it causes a flashback. Pembrook is hammering Callen’s fingers, telling him not to cry. Pembrook tells Callen not to feel because feelings cause pain. She wants to know what he is thinking now. Callen recognizes she’s wearing Pembrook’s cologne – Shulton Pierre Cardin. Callen asks where she found it. Admitting it took a while, she wears it every day now, she got so use to it so she doesn’t smell it anymore. Callen says “feeling cause pain.”

In interrogation, Sam can’t believe Joelle doesn’t know anything about Katya. Joelle says she’s telling the truth but an arriving Kilbride tells her she’s not. Her ex-colleagues at the CIA have been feeding Joelle info on Katya. Saying that the search for Katya was killing her, the CIA had Joelle speak to “some really good people.” Joelle is fighting very hard to put all this behind her.

On comms, Fatima interrupts. She has something to show Sam and the Admiral. In the main section of the boatshed, Fatima found a van with no windows. It was stolen two days ago. There is a BOLO with LAPD to find the van and Kaleidoscope is looking too. Fatima has some bad news – Anna isn’t answering NCIS’s calls. Fatima got Arkady to call – they have a secret code too – and Anna is not answering to that.

Alone, the Admiral tells Sam he’s going to kick Joelle free – see where she goes and what she does. Sam is going to put a tracker on Joelle’s car. As Sam is about to leave, the Admiral mentions Sam losing Michelle in a situation like this. “We’re going to get your partner back,” the Admiral says. “Yes, of course,” Sam says without his usual enthusiasm.

In the shipping container, Callen is trying to make a deal. Both he and Katya could find Pembrook together. Katya knows he’s working an angle. He’d never work with her, never let her walk away. “The things I’ve done can’t be excused.” Callen says if he finds Pembrook, Katya knows what he’ll do, which means he will have blood on his hands. They will put the gun in Pembrook’s mouth and pull the trigger together. Callen won’t only let her walk away, he’ll help her start over. That way, they both will be fixed. Katya says she can’t be fixed. She still wants to hurt Callen for taking Anna away from her. She’ll find Pembrook. Katya leaves.

Arriving where Fatima found the van, Sam sees Kensi picking the lock while Rountree checks for explosives. No explosives so Kensi opens the door. A camera is looking that the three of them while deep fake Callen and Sam are on the TV screen behind the camera set-up. Fake Callen and Sam are looking for Deeks and Fatima, who fake Callen thinks is sexy. Real Sam asks Fatima to check for a video signal going to van. Fake Callen tells her not to bother, the team just fell down the rabbit hole and there is no signal there.

In Ops, Fatima can’t trace the signal. They can’t trust anything going forward. A beep from Fatima’s tablet has Joelle stopping at a different office location. Sam is on his way while Kensi and Rountree check out the van to see what they can find.

With a change in the screen in the shipping container, Callen sees a badly beaten Anna strapped to a chair. He calls to her but she can’t hear him. Instead, Katya is talking about how much she loves Anna. Beaten and handcuffed, Anna is not feeling the love. While Anna says they were only together a short time while they were in prison, Katya announces it was the happiest time in her life. She thinks Anna keeps going on-and-off again with Callen because she is still in love with Katya. Callen can see Anna playing her. Anna admits she has a hard time with her bisexuality but she loved their time together. Katya asks if Anna still loves her. Anna admits still thinking of her.

Walking into the office building, Sam learns from Fatima that Joelle is on the fourth floor. Fatima has video of Joelle entering the office. Sam knocks, saying he’s coming in one way or another. An annoyed Joelle answers, asking how he found her. She pulled the two trackers off her car. Sam put four on the car. Looking around the office, Sam asks how long has she and Callen had this “side hustle”. It is two months. Sam wants to know why Joelle is keeping secrets. He knows Callen is in a seriously bad place. Joelle tells him they were tracking Katya and Pembrook. Since the law can “get in the way of a really good time”, they were working without NCIS.

Following credit cards, they found Katya renting vehicles, from the vehicles, they were able to trace her movements with traffic cameras. Katya swaps out vehicles every day or two. Looking at the businesses where Katya was parking, Joelle found a shipping container rental property. Since both Joelle and Anna were held in a container, Cargo Blue Inc. is a place to start.

When Rountree comes up with nothing in the van, Kensi says she didn’t expect them anything. Katya is too smart and too well trained to leave anything behind. Since everything they found was a deep fake, Rountree realizes the beating of Callen was likely as fake as this van being used in Katya’s plan. They are moving forward on Katya’s planted clues. The Admiral agrees, they should go back in time to trace what Katya did, not wait for her to send them on another wild goose chase. They have to find something they know it is real. If they can find something from a camera they know is really, the team will use that as a starting point.

On the screen, Anna is told Callen is in other shipping container. Katya turns on Callen’s camera but not the audio – Katya doesn’t want Anna to hear him. Anna thinks it is a deep fake but Katya shows her a photo of Callen’s chest with the bullet holes. If Anna will leave the country with Katya, Katya will tell NCIS where to find Callen. Asking for a month, alone together, Anna could leave Katya after that if she’s unhappy. Katya wants to know if it is real. Anna agrees to go. The two kiss.

Knowing that Anna would say anything to save Callen, Katya thought she’d feel better if she heard Anna say she’d leave. Instead, Katya feels like a prostitute. Anna says Katya is wrong but Katya asks for a gun. With Callen yelling “don’t shoot her,” Katya does just that. Covered in Anna’s blood, Katya tells the camera that shooting Anna felt real and good.

After tracking Callen from the time he got the deep fake call, Fatima found the fire truck/ambulance blocking Callen in but nothing after that. A call to the 9-1-1 operators said there were not fires in that area. The Admiral wants Kensi and Rountree to check out the area. “Someone must’ve seen what happened to Callen.”

Using security cameras, Joelle has Katya coming out of the Cargo Blue offices wearing a wig. Cargo Blue’s offices are half-way between the Port of Long Beach and the Port of Los Angeles. With the shipping issues, there are tens-of-thousands of shipping containers just sitting around in the ports. Good place to hide Callen, terrible place to look for him – he’s a needle in a haystack.

At her workstation in Ops, Fatima gets a call from Anna. Worried that it is a deep fake, Fatima is going to use their codes. When Fatima says it is a beautiful day in the neighborhood, Anna answers that Mr. Rogers was the man. It was the code. Anna was on a run in Topanga. The Admiral can’t quite abide by a three-and-a-half hour run but Anna says she is training for a marathon. Anna is brought up to speed and asks if Callen is alive. The Admiral doesn’t know. She’s coming into the office.

At the place where Callen was grabbed, witnesses confirm to Kensi and Rountree that Callen collapsed and was put into an ambulance. They thought the fire truck and ambulance was there for Callen as part of medical emergency. Fatima is able to track the movements of the ambulances while Joelle gets the code numbers for the shipping containers. Fatima watches the ambulance go into the alley and a white van exit the other side. Rountree is worried they switched vehicles again. Joelle sees a white van outside of the Port of Long Beach with the same plates. Sam realizes they either got very lucky or Katya planned this. The Admiral wants to follow up this lead with the whole team and the REACT guys. While Sam leaves, Joelle keeps the video running and sees a smallish sedan pick up the people from the van. Blowing up the license plate on her computer screen, Joelle can track it.

When Anna arrives at the Port of Long Beach, Kensi promises her they will find Callen. Sam is right behind Anna. Joelle heard from the Port Authority with the location of one of the shipping crates. Sam leads the way. The Port Authority police are waiting for Sam, Kensi and Rountree outside of the shipping container. Anna is there too. Rountree checks for bombs while Kensi picks the lock. Though Kensi is worried they are doing Katya’s bidding by opening the shipping container, Sam doesn’t think they have any choice.

Opening the container, Callen is on a big screen with Katya. Callen is happy to see Anna alive. Katya thinks it is going to be so much fun to make everyone watch. Sam tries to talk to Katya but is ordered to shut up. Callen gets punched in the face for no real reason. With a bucket between Callen’s legs, Katya picks up a canister with potassium cyanide pellets. When she puts them in the bucket, they’ll dissolve and kill Callen with cyanide gas. Dropping the pellets into the bucket, Katya leaves while Callen starts to choke to death on the poison gas.

Sam does not believe a minute of it. Anna does. Pulling Anna away from the screen, Sam tells her not to believe it. Katya wants Anna and to do that, she has to keep Callen alive. In his shipping container, Callen is very much alive and is encouraging Anna to believe Sam. Sam tells Rountree to kill the video feed. Rountree does.

When Katya arrives at the shipping container, Callen tells her the team didn’t believe her cyanide act. Katya thinks they looked worried. Promising to take everything from Callen, she brings a few of her flunkies with big cases into the container. Since the Pembrook training made them feel nothing, she knows they both really want to die. But to cause Callen real pain, his real family is not the sister he barely sees but Sam, Hetty, Kensi and Deeks who all mean everything to him. Seeing them killed in an explosion trying to save him is the new plan. Thinking he’s dying they’ll rush into the container which Katya’s flunkies are wiring it to blow up. With a camera outside of the crate, Callen can watch the team die.

From Ops, Fatima found footage of the van stopping off at a private shipping container company before it was parked outside the port. Callen is likely there. Fatima sends the address and the team is on their way. At the private facility with the REACT Team, they are looking for the container numbers Joelle sent them.

In a car with the chief flunky, Katya admits that killing Callen gives her as much pleasure as drinking a glass of water though she honestly thought it would make her feel better. Callen is one of the few people who knew how dead she feels inside. The flunky wants Katya to go – it’s all over. Katya is there to hear the final explosion.

Running through the huge crates, Anna found one. The team is on their way but Anna is in the back of the facility. Anna is trying to open it but Callen is screaming for her not to open it. Thinking he’s inside, Anna tries to shoot the lock off the door. Callen yells for her to stop shooting. She fires her gun again.

Someone is walking with a gun. Katya tells the flunky she thought the bomb would have gone off by now. Katya wants to go back in but the flunky is worried about the NCIS agents all over the facility. Katya gasps. Joelle is in front of the car. She executes the flunky. Just before being killed, Katya says “thank God” before taking one to the neck and one to the brain.

Just as Anna is about to open the container door, Sam stops her. He checks for a bomb and finds one. Opening the door just a bit, Sam sees the bomb. Callen tells him not to open the door. Telling Callen to sit tight, Sam wants his bomb kit. Sam orders Anna to leave but she’s not going anywhere. Rountree runs up with the bomb kit. Sam orders him away and Rountree listens.

Working diligently in a very small space, Sam is going to open the door without defusing the bomb. Sam is able to get himself and Anna into the container. Sam is able to deactivate the bomb’s triggers, defusing the bomb. Callen and Anna hug as Sam tells them “you’re welcome.”

The Long Beach police bring Callen to Katya’s vehicle. Dead Katya, dead flunky. Callen confirms it is Katya – they have a positive ID. He doesn’t know the name of the flunky. The officer asks Callen who would do something like that. Callen lies – “I haven’t a clue.”

Walking away, Callen and Anna share I love you’s.

What head canon can be formed from here: While he was likely selling the idea of teaming up with Katya to kill Pembrook and letting her start a new life to keep himself alive long enough for the team to find him, Callen did the same thing with Joelle killing Katya and the flunky.

The Noble Maidens are all in on shipping containers. Starting with Anna wanting to send Kirkin back to Russia in one, going to Joelle and Anna being held in one and Callen here, Trained Russian female spies may be the real reason for shipping container shortage.

Shulton Pierre Cardin cologne is available online for $25.00. Not sure why Katya had to try too hard to track it down. Amazon has it.

The program has spelled Pembrook about six different ways in the closed-captioning.

Episode number: This is episode 21 of season 13 and the 301st episode overall.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la

11 notes · View notes

theolympusfiles · 4 years

Text

rereading the PJO and HoO - part one: the lightning thief

before i start, all italicized parts are from the lightning thief by rick riordan. they're not my words and these are not my characters. my thoughts are the only thing that are mine :)

• "mom, you're coming too." her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean. "no!" i shouted, you are coming with me. help me carry grover". - the first(ish) appearance of percy's fatal flaw! i love the early establisment, especially because it helps foreshadow to the sea of monsters when fatal flaws are formally introduced.

• "that's -" "pasiphae's son," my mother said. "i wish i'd known how badly they wanted to kill you." - sally is underappreciated. she's smart as hell and clearly took the time to research demigods. yes, she was a little bit selfish with keeping percy out of the loop and not sending him to camp. but can you blame her? she lost all of her family and if she sent percy to CHB at an early age, that most nearly means she won't see him often (he'll attract monsters because he's aware of his status as a demigod and will most likely be at camp full-time). but sally ensured that she knew enough about the demigod world to protect percy because she knew that her selfishness would come with consequences. best mom.

• i was crying, calling for my mother, but i held on to grover - i wasn't going to let him go. - percy's first loss as a demigod and i am broken. honestly, so sad to think of, especially knowing all the losses he'll face in the future books. this line is also his fatal flaw showing once again (refer to first bulletpoint)

• "it (america) is the great power of the west. and so olympus is here. and we are here." - if olympus follows the west, where would the next location be? obviously, america is still a big powerhouse in terms of western civilization but that's not going to last. my bet is south korea but who knows? would love a fanfic on this tbh

• "the truth is, i can't be dead. you see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. i could continue the work i loved. i could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. i gained so much from that wish... and i gave up so much. but i'm still here, so i can only assume i'm still needed." - how will it be decided that he's not needed? honestly, can't imagine CHB without him but chiron also deserves retirement

• i started to understand luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, hermes so okay, maybe gods had important things to do. but couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder or something? - percy has always showed some hesitance when accepting the demigod world, so i wasn't really surprised to see doubts like this pop up, especially with luke's influence. i'd think most demigods feel this way, luke and percy are just the ones who exhibit it the most in the series. i'm really interested in the parallels between the two and i'm looking forward to reading more and examining them

• "during the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, zeus and poseidon had an argument. the usual nonsense: 'mother rhea always liked you best', 'air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters', etc. - despite the fact that the gods are all-powerful beings, i appreciate the petty sibling spats that are mentioned briefly

• "so let me get this straight," i said. "i'm supposed to go to the underworld and confront the world of the dead." "check," chiron said. "find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "check." "and get it back to olympus before the summer solstice in ten days." "that's about right." i looked at grover, who gulped down the ace of heaers. "did i mention that maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. - this would be perfect for those 30 second trailers

• "gee," i said feigning surprise. "who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a q uest like this?" the air shimmered behind chiron. annabeth became visible, stuffing her yankees cap into her back pocket. - the way he knows her pretty well already, i-

• the truth was, i didn't care about retrieving zeus' lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble. - early on, we see from the get go that percy has a dislike for the gods. it's small mentions like this that really gets me thinking. he never really showed any dislike of the gods when he first arrived at camp (understandable) but he was hopeful for his father. it wasn't until luke planted the seed into his head that these thoughts came to light. i love this little detail, especially as we know that towards the end, luke does seem to think he can turn percy against the gods. his plan backfired a little bit on him in the end but like i said before, the parallels between luke and percy are so glaring. riordan definitely thought it out extensively

• do not be a pawn of the olympians, my dear. you would be better off as a statue - this is said to percy by medusa and again, feeds into his dislike of the gods. i wonder if monsters have some opinion on this. most would probably hate the gods but i wonder what their stance is on demigods. we know that they work with them (see kronos' army). the real enemy for monsters are the gods, the demigods killing them are just pawns to the gods so maybe that's how some monsters see them

• "so, what's your status?" luke asked me. "chiron will be sorry he missed you." i told him pretty much everything, including my dreams. it felt so good to see him, to feel like i was back at camp even for a few minutes, that i didn't even realize how long i had talked to him until the beeper went off on the spray machine. - there's no doubt that percy really considered luke a friend. he wasn't hesitant to tell luke about his dreams, something that he didn't share with annabeth or grover until later on the book. luke was a sort of mentor to percy and it was conveyed pretty well through their interactions, which makes his betrayal even more heartbreaking

• "you think you'll ever try living with your dad again?" she wouldn't meet my eyes. "please. i'm not into self-inflicted pain." - my heart breaks for annabeth and her relationship with her father. i've read most of the riordanverse books and the growth in annabeth's relationship with her family is definitely something i'm looking forward to watch grow as i make my way through the books again

• i looked over at the desk and saw a girl sitting there, also wearing a straitjacket - so i never paid the dreams any mind but now that i think about it, they're really good for analysis. for example, the straitjacket could mean something like the gods are keeping them restrained. maybe i'm overthinking it or have been analyzing text too much in AP english but i think that the dreams are worth some deeper thinking

• i pretended not to see annabeth wipe a tear from her cheek as she listened to the mournful keening of cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend - i need to see annabeth play with cerberus again D:

• i turned and faced my mother. i desperately wanted to sacrifice myself and the last pearl on her, but i knew what she would say. she would never allow it. i had to get the bolt back to olympus and tell zeus the truth. i had to stop the war. - percy's growth as a character really shines through here. the lightning thief is a pretty short book and the journey they took was less than 2 weeks but despite that percy's grown immensely as a character. his goal was always to save his mother but in the end, he sacrificed her because he knew it was his duty to save olympus and i respect that

• "you have made an enemy, godling," he told me. "you have sealed your fate. every time you raise your blade in battle, everytime you hope for success, you will feel my curse. beware, perseus jackson. beware." - ares cursed percy to be unsuccesful in battle but does his curse ever take effect? i don't recall any mention of this curse later on the series. obviously, percy is the main character and a really good swordfighter but the curse might have affected some battles right? but then again riordan has a lot of plotholes so i wouldn't put too much thought in it

• i knew dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong. - i've always accepted the fact that dionysus called the demigods by their wrong name for humor. but what if it's deeper? what if it's a way to put some space between him and the demigods, just as an extra precaution so he won't get attached. or it could be a ploy to showcase that he's more powerful than them and that they are beneath him, which is why he doesn't need to know their name. i like the former headcanon more though :P

• i opened my eyes. i was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the big house, my right hand bandaged like a club. argus stood guard in the corner. annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead. "here we are again," i said. - the parallel

well, that's everything i had notes on. overall, i liked rereading it. i really do miss this series and i'm finding my love for it be rekindled by rereading. i miss the humor of the early books (i could literally make a whole post of underrated lines). the last time i read the series in its whole was when i was 7 and now that i'm 16, i have more thoughts and can analyze the story better. also loved seeing baby percabeth as they're my OTP. i'm excited to continue with the series. to the sea of monsters!

#Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #Pjato/hoo #reading #rereading #books #Greek Mythology #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #Grover underwood #analysis #the lightning thief #pjo series

67 notes · View notes

senadimell · 3 years

Note

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying: Seek for the Sword that was broken: In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isildur's Bane shall waken, And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed the dream and seek for Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to give me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.'

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions. If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper).

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

#asks #answers #boromir #did not think i had this many thoughts about boromir!#thank you so much for the ask!

17 notes · View notes

warlordess · 4 years

Text

Ah, my main special project for this year’s Pokeshipping Week event! I have skipped meals, sleep... uh, probably some responsibilities at work but don’t tell anyone... just to finish this stupid thing on time! It’s the proudest moment of my life to know that I got to semi-successfully draw my number one OTP kissing... Alas, my artistry skills are quite limited so I made up the difference/details by writing an accompanying fanfic, which I hope you’ll all read.

Btw, the first page was originally a “standalone art” for the prompt, which is why the art style may appear a little more detailed/different in general. Btw 2.0, I absolutely loved the concept of drawing these two “blushing up to their ears”, which I did twice in this comic. So yeah.

I’m also begging people to reblog this type of stuff from me when I post it because I’m trying (and failing) to get into the world of commissioned artists.

Fanfic is below the mandatory cut!

Pokeshipping Week 2020: “If Ash was aware of his feelings during their journeys together…”

Setting: Orange Islands, after most events taking place in the episode “Wherefore Art Thou, Pokemon?” with slight alterations to closing scenes.

--\--/--

Paradise.

It’s the first word that comes to mind as the faint scent of brine wafts up her nose and the sea breeze ruffles her tied up hair around her head. She sighs and leans into the breadth of atmosphere her surroundings have presented her, so awash in it that she practically forgets about the company she’s opted to keep.

“So,” Ash Ketchum starts abruptly, and her brow creases in reactionary frustration at the very audacity he has to try and interrupt her glorious seaside fantasy.

Ever since first coming to the Orange Islands, Misty has felt more at home than almost anywhere Ash’s travels have forced her to go. A bratty voice at the back of her mind can’t help begging the question… What could he possibly think is worth bothering her with now?

“So… do you think it’s true? That kissing thing, I mean.”

Kissing… thing?

The first word alone causes her spine to snap straight, head ricocheting against her neck enough to cause a lingering ache after. A drowsy, near napping Togepi in her arms is jostled into a more urgent state of consciousness, though the egg Pokemon thankfully doesn’t start bawling.

“W - wait, what?” she asks before she can stop herself, and her pale cheeks burn the shade of puce as memories replay of earlier in the day. Ralph and Emily had since returned home and Tracey had actually begged to come along, hoping for a final opportunity to sketch their lover Pokemon, Maria and Tony, before Ash’s group left the island for their next destination.

“Uh, y’know, from earlier with the Nidoran… How they battled Team Rocket, then kissed and evolved? And Tracey said maybe them kissing had something to do with that.”

She can’t help gaping ever so slightly open-mouthed at him. Distractedly she hopes internally to herself that the persistent flush to her cheeks can be blamed on the combination of her fair complexion and the rosy sunset they happen to be watching while sitting on the pier together.

Is he serious…? Why would he even ask me something like that? she wonders, nearly angry at the possibility of him messing with her, unwilling to accept alternatives. She faintly reminisces over how he’d stood stock still during the very scene he was currently describing, appearing mildly confused all the while. For someone as immature as Ash Ketchum, she had to admit that such a lackadaisical reaction had been rather anticlimactic at the time.

However, apparently he’s been ruminating on the fiasco that was their latest daily misadventure ever since.

It’s a joke, she affirms to herself, barely holding in the urge to nod at the conclusion just in case it gives him strange ideas regarding his curiosity. A joke or a prank because there’s no way…

“Uh… We could - or, well, I’d like to maybe…” with you, he realizes he doesn’t have the courage to say (which is outrageous for one, Ash Ketchum), but the whole thing is quite new to him, obviously. “W - we could… make it an experiment, couldn’t we?”

“Pfft!?” The sound of her scoff jars him from his briefly swelling hope and drags him back down to reality. “Stop messing around, Mr. Pokemon Master!” She’s practically laughing mirthfully at him. “You’re talking about kissing here, right? As an experiment? For what?”

“I’m not messing around!” he blurts, tone a few octaves higher than either of them are used to, pushing them back towards the precipice of awkward silence while he tries to string his next thoughts together.

Maybe he’s brought this on himself. He hadn’t meant to use the word ‘experiment’; it had just been an excuse in case she didn’t reciprocate his intentions… Or was it his feelings? Sure, he was curious about things enough to try for that reason alone, if he was being honest with himself but… he certainly wouldn’t have pursued conclusions to his hypothesis if it hadn’t been Misty sitting beside him at the time!

Urk! The acknowledgement leaves his tummy knotting and tumbling over itself as he stares the redhead down, daring her to underestimate him now that he’s come this far. But of course that reckless bravery only lasts a couple seconds before he has to blank and concede the round.

“I wanna try… I mean, with you… if you’d like.”

Because if it’s possible for people to change when they kiss then he’d surely be interested. But only if it’s with her and the two of them were… changing together.

“Fine.”

“Mwah!” he yelps before he can help herself, body twitching to and fro before he collects himself and squints up at her. “Wait, really?”

Her mouth a grim, thin line and her cheeks bright enough red to bely the truth, she looks him in the eyes, then away long enough to softly clear her throat, then back at him, and shrugs nonchalantly.

And he doesn’t know it but all of these mixed signals she’s giving off are because she’s calling his bluff. Or so she thinks.

Thanks to his trademark ignorance, he presses forward with the plan, slowly leaning in. Consequently, the lapping of the rising tide below them and the setting sun sinking on edge of the water in the distance disappear and only the two of them are left in the world.

With every millimeter of space lost between them, Misty’s shoulders stiffen a little bit more…

Eep!

… Her grip on the drowsy Togepi ever so slightly tightening…

It’s gotta be a joke!

… Her lips pursing to almost nothing, eyes widening while her brows disappear under her fluttering fringe.

Ash would n-e-v-e-r--

She’s not running away so…

Her internal screeching is cut short at the last second when she sees him out of the corner of her eye, grabbing his cap and wrenching it around backwards (amazing that he has the foresight to know it would get in the way during a moment like this) before finally closing the last inch or two of distance, his lips covering hers in an understated, chaste kiss.

The static buzz that promptly replaces any previous faulty transmission causes the kiss to last longer than either of them expects, not that they know what to expect, seeing as they’ve never kissed anyone before.

Misty’s hyperfixation on most recent events transpired eventually causes her grasp on Togepi to slacken, leaving the Pokemon to slip an inch or two toward the edge of her knees. Maternal skill kicking in, the redhead immediately snatches her baby more firmly back under one arm, the other one reflexively soaring out and knocking Ash away…

… And straight over the side of the pier, into the water.

A resounding splash! carries back up to her, followed almost immediately after by her former partner in… something… sputtering, spitting, coughing in an attempt to catch his breath again after breaking the surface, glaring halfheartedly up at her as she pokes her head around to ensure his safety.

“Um, whoops…?”

“Guh,” he begins, biting back the part of himself demanding her repentance for such behavior, and he tells himself it’s not because his lips are still tingling just so in response to their activity coupled with the sight of her flushing magenta once more against a perfectly accented skyline.

Instead he opts to call out Lapras and hitch a ride back to shore, pulling off his socks, shoes, and jacket vest along the way to try and shake or wring the excess water out of them. She meets him at the boardwalk a few minutes later, baby Pokemon still clasped snugly in her arms, handing him the backpack he’d been forced to abandon a short time ago.

Later they’ll be forced to feed Tracey some sorry excuse as to how things have ended up the way they have, and they’ll decide as a group that it will be better to stay in town for the night so that Ash can keep from getting sick from the persistent sea breeze adding to the chill from his unexpected swim. The two of them will likely refrain from much direct interaction and Tracey will chalk it up to their latest fight (which, after both nearly physically attacked him earlier for comparing them to Ralph and Emily, he’ll know better than to say a single word about).

And, though sleep will be anxiety-ridden and fitful, morning will wash away the intensity of their actions and Ash will have his answer; yes, people kissing truly does lead to evolution, and it’s highly anticipated, that they’ll get to experience this change together.

--\--/--

I cannot quite explain how weird it was to write Ash as the semi-mature one during a romantic interaction with Misty. Whew, what a wild ride... But honestly? If he’d known about his feelings during their travels together... and if the anime had paid a little more attention to their romantic relationship... this might have happened. Lol.

Mm’kay, see ya tomorrow! Reblogs are love (no offense to likes)!

#pokeshipping #pokeshipping week 2020 #my art #fan fiction #digital art #anime art #satokasu #day one: if Ash knew about his feelings while they were traveling together

88 notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Tony Stark - Traveling Carnival

Welcome to my first otp prompt fic! You can request yours by searching with the tag #imagineyourotp. Find the instructions about how to do it here.

The waiter nodded at you when you gave him your deserts orders and left with a small smile, probably anticipating the generous tip he was going to receive later. His extra careful attitude and the helpfulness he had showed through the whole meal surely got him enough money to call it a lucky night, even working in an expensive restaurant like the one you had chosen.

You smiled into your napkin when Tony took his wallet out and started to move the bills around, thinking how much money he was going to left. Whatever it was, it would be more than enough.

“I’m thinking about leaving something for the chef too” he thought out loud. “That risotto was worthy, don’t you think?”

“You’ve eaten almost everything, so I can’t say” you teased him.

Through the night, you had talked, eaten and laughed with Tony. There were only a few nights every year that you could enjoy like that; take a private jet and fly to whatever country Tony thinks is worthy of leaving his money. Taking a scroll around the city, and sleeping in a luxury hotel, preferably high.

You moved across the wide couch you were both sitting in until your arms touched, and Tony left his movements with the wallet and raised his arm so that you could fit besides him. You left no physical space in between, resting your head against his shoulder and nuzzling your nose with his neck. The soft jazz music that was playing in the restaurant made you want to kick off your heels and just fall sleep right there.

“You might want to wait until we’re in the hotel” Tony chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. “The description of the room said there is a water cushion”

“I don’t want to sound too old, but I’m worrying about my back if we sleep there”

Tony snorted a laugh and finally tucked his wallet away, his whole attention on you.

The restaurant you had chosen that time had an intimate climate that you really appreciated. There were round desks with half-round couches around them, only meant for two or three people. A dim, soft lamp was above every desk, that had two scented candles too. The restaurant, in general, was dark, only lighted up by the desks that were occupied. You didn’t know how the staff could work their way around, but you liked how you could only see Tony.

No other people peeking at you and whispering about Tony Stark being there. No interruptions to sign posters or resentful fans for not having enough attention. It was just you, Tony, and the Italian food.

“Hey, don’t go falling asleep on me. I mean it” Tony shook his shoulder and you pouted at him. “I make a terrible pillow, and I wouldn’t want to suffer your bad morning mood if you had neck pains”

“I’m pretty comfortable” you closed your eyes again, breathing Tony’s smell.

Tony didn’t say anything else, and you smiled. It had been a tiring day, for the both of you. The date hadn’t been planned, and because of that Tony had appeared at the end of your shift with the private plane ready and a boyish smile. When you had taken off, you had discovered your bags at the back of the plane, and he had explained that you were going to stay the weekend in Italy.

After a stressful week, you couldn’t ask for more, so you had accepted Tony’s glass and had sat beside him in the plane. Now, having taken a scroll around and left the bags in the hotel, you were feeling exhausted and sleepy.

“Have you ever been to a traveling carnival?”

You looked up at Tony’s question. He had sparkly eyes and was raising an eyebrow, and wasn’t going to shut up soon. So you moved from his side and, staying as close as possible, straightened up a little.

“Why? Planning on extending our night more?”

“Actually, tomorrow” Tony showed you his phone, which you hadn’t realised he had been using. “There is a one in a near town. We could go to check it out”

“Uh, you sure?” you looked between the colourful pics on his phone to his excited face. “Iron Man might be the biggest attraction”

“It’s a small town. With sun-glasses and a hat if fine” Tony shrugged. “And it’ll be just a quick look. Maybe ride a few things”

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to go – it was that you didn’t want to go. Not so pleasant memories plagued your mind when you thought about a traveling carnival, one much more smaller in your hometown. You had been a teenager back then, maybe fourteen or sixteen, but you remembered it with every detail.

What Tony meant by ‘ride a few things’, was trying everything in the carnival once or twice, and even proposing to buy one of them to your own apartment. You had been with him before to an amusement park before, but it was different. They were safer, and you didn’t wobble dangerously when you rode something.

“I don’t really like traveling carnivals” you confessed as the waiter left two rounded, brown puddings on the table. You waited a second until he left with a non-necessary reverence to talk again. “Bad memory, so I don’t really…”

“It’s fine” Tony smiled at you, reaching for his plate. “There are a few beautiful beaches we can spend the day in.”

He pushed your own puddings towards your side, and focused on his. Against what people thought about Tony Stark, when he wasn’t on a formal event, he didn’t have any manners at all. The first bite of the pudding had him moaning so obscenely that you had to look around to check there wasn’t anyone around you.

Tony talked with his mouth full, stained the corners of his lips and almost dropped half of it on his shirt. Watching him enjoy his food was one the things you enjoyed most about life, and you quickly forgot about the carnival.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Tony ended up leaving a too generous tip to the wide eyed waiter, who almost melted in thankfulness and left jumping from one feet to another. He also left a small envelope for the chef; and after that, you linked hands and exited the restaurant. Before going to the hotel, he walked you around the city, and told you that his mom was Italian and that he used to come here to visit his grandparents.

Once in the hotel, you were too tired to do anything more than brush your teeth and fall to the bed with only half of your pyjamas on. Tony followed close, tugging your jeans all the way down and tucking you in.

“You know” he started as he turned off his phone and put on his own pyjamas. “I also had a real bad experience on a traveling carnival when I was younger. I didn’t step on one for four years after that”

“What happened?” you asked with your eyes closed.

“My friends and I drank before going, and then I got on the Ferris wheel. Got sick and threw up all over a really pretty girl” he told you. “It was so embarrassing – she left without saying anything and her friends glared at me for the rest of the night”

As Tony got rolled into the story about the girl who had ran off and how he had tried to find her later to apologize, you thought about your own motives to not go to a carnival anymore. Your sleepy brain had a hard time grasping any other concept than the necessity to sleep, but you managed to hum at the right moment so that Tony continued his story.

It was when he was finished that he finally scooted over and you were ready to call it a night. Still with your eyes closed, you decided to give your last opinion on the anecdote, knowing how much Tony liked when he knew he was being listened to.

“I can’t imagine the poor girl’s face” you chuckled softly. “A boy rode into the Ferris with me when I was younger too, and threw up all over me. It was –“

Your head sprung up at the same time as Tony looked at you with wide eyes. You didn’t remember much about that night – only that there wasn’t enough space on a carriage to carry four people, so you had chosen to ride with your cousin and both of your friends waited for the next. Then, a pale boy with dishevelled hair had entered on the last second, and when the thing had started, closed his eyes and leaned back.

Your cousin had held your arm and had tried to stop you from reaching for the boy, but you had felt bad and had tried to touch his arm and ask if he was okay. When he raised his head, he had emptied his stomach on your new trousers and shoes. And until the ride finished, you got stuck in a closed cabin – with no ventilation – with a half-passed out boy who only stuttered apologies and with the worse smell in the world, that almost made you throw up too.

“Oh my god” you covered your mouth and hid an incredulous smile. “You were – you were him”

“No” Tony didn’t sound too convinced, and was looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “There are a lot of people who puke in the Ferris wheel. It doesn’t have to –“

“It was in Manhattan, 1988” you interrupted him, enjoying how his face went to confusion to utter disgust. “You threw up on me five years before we met”

Tony tore his eyes from you and let his mouth hang open, his face showing every inch of disgust you had felt for the traveling carnivals since that moment. Only the thought of going to one of them brought back the long minutes stuck on the cabin with the disgusting smell.

You burst laughing when Tony gagged on nothing and bent over himself on the bed, probably remembering the experience. That Tony had said that it had been a ‘pretty girl’ made your heart flutter in your chest, because he still didn’t know it was you. And when you thought about it, you should have known. The boy who had thrown up on you was Tony without a beard and a bit younger.

“It’s been five years, Y/N” Tony looked horrified with himself. “I can’t believe I’m just noticing – and I’m so, so sorry”

You could barely breath from how hard you were laughing, all the sleep and tiredness gone. It took both of you a while to calm down, and finally Tony looked as if he could bare the sight of you again. When he did, a small smile broke through his lips.

“I guess first impressions aren’t that important, hm?”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

224 notes · View notes

secretsofthedarkestkind-arch · 3 years

Text

OTP/Romance Prompts: 1/? AKA Verse AU's @storieswrittcn

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

"Are you positive about that?" Lee asked almost in disbelief hearing the news her CI had just given her. The girl was never wrong when it came to tips for the detective; Lee paid too much money for her to ever risk being wrong. The confirmation had the brunette's feet slowing to a stop.

No harm list...global level...death to anyone who tried...Petrova crime family...

"Check your bank account in about an hour," Lee mutters lost in thought as she hangs up the phone still standing in one the hallways of NYPD. The SVU-- she'd been offered a spot in Organized Crime more than once but she always denied the transfer for personal reason's-- Detective's life had been chaos for the last month and a half. Ever since that day she'd decided to go into that bank before work.

The day had started like any other; oversleeping, rushing toward PD with traffic being horrible, calling Olivia Benson--her partner-- to tell her she'd be late, and desperately stopping for coffee to try and bring some form of sanity back to her (Really, Lee was sure her body held more caffeine than it did actual blood at this point). After paying for her coffee, Lee had realized she didn't have anymore cash on her, glancing across the street she'd found a branch of her bank. Why not grab some cash from the ATM? Her eldest brother Damon had drove it into her head growing up that it was always smart to have some cash on you. 'You never know when you're going to need it, when your card won't work or somewhere can only accept cash.'

So really what happened next was Damon's fault, it always was right?

As if to prove to Lee her day was not going to go smoothly, the ATM outside was out of order causing her to walk inside. She'd taken maybe less than twenty steps inside when the first gunshot had gone off and screams followed. Instinct had her ducking down for cover, one hand reaching for her cell phone while the other went to the gun holstered on her hip. Quickly, she'd sent out an SOS with her location to Olivia with three words attached; robbery inside gunpoint. Once that was taken care of, Lee glanced around the small counter to see just how many gunmen there were; five that she could see. She couldn't let anyone get hurt though, it wasn't in her nature.

Everything that happened next somewhat happened in a blur. The gunman had been getting everyone down, the leader at the main counter tossing bags to cashiers to fill with money, while another beside him tried to keep everyone calm; the usual of if everyone cooperates no one will get hurt, we just want the banks money not to hurt you. But the way his voice cracked told Lee that wasn't exactly true. So regardless of consequence she's stood up, badge in her hand.

Then her horrible day just got weird; the closest gunman had started to shake with fear, muttering a soft 'Oh Shit'. His eyes telling her that he almost seemed to recognize her. The next one's face paled as he looked at her and he stumbled a few steps back, signaling to get the other three's attention. Their reactions didn't fair much better. All five appeared to forget what they were doing, why they were here in the first place, and run out the door as if their pants had been on fire or Lee had been the Grimm Reaper himself. It didn't make sense--yes, she was a cop but that reaction, the way they almost recognized her? It didn't fit.

So after hours with Internal Affairs, questioning by Robbery and Organized Crime detectives---Lee had contacted her CI to try and get answers. It'd taken the girl a month to find them and another half a month to verify her information.

No harm list...global level...death to anyone who tried...Petrova crime family...

Petrova was a last name she hadn't heard since she was twenty-one, eight whole years ago. It was the reason she denied any transfer to Organized Crime. Katerina Petrova (as most of the world knew her Katherine Pierce) had been not just her childhood crush or high school sweetheart, but the love of her life; the one person she would truly love until the day she took her last breath. Lee's heart, soul, and body still belonged to the brunette all these years later. The detective blamed her lack of a love life on her work, but the true reason was she'd never wanted anyone but Katerina.

The two had grown up together, meeting in Kindergarten, and formed an unbreakable bonds. They'd been with each other through everything; Lee's horrible home life caused by her parents, Katerina's own home life complications being the daughter of mobsters, both never seemingly good enough or as good as their respective twins, their parent's deaths (Well, Lee's mother and both of Katerina's). By middle school they were a couple; possessive/territorial, protective, and madly in love. High school, they were each other's first everything. Katerina not hiding how her life was changing at the young age of sixteen; after her parent's death, she'd started the takeover of the Petrova Crime family while Elena got to play normal high schooler. When Katerina had dropped out, Lee had almost followed suit--planned to be right there at Katerina's side to help her no matter what it was or how dark her soul would become. But her girlfriend had stopped Lee from doing that, she wanted one of them to at least graduate and Lee to have a chance to go to the art school of her dreams.

Then Lee had graduated, plans of art school gone mainly because the Salvatore hadn't wanted to leave Katerina---by eighteen, she'd gained full control of her dead parents empire, caused it grow and was working on a plan of opening a business for cover; exotic dancing, with more than a few illegal activities inside. Lee hadn't batted an eye at the plan, her possessive and jealous nature that normally would have shown through didn't; all because she loved Katerina, trusted her, and knew the woman would never betray her--the small engagement ring on her finger proof of that.

But Lee had wanted to do something to help, anything to make her future wife's life easier. So she'd followed Stefan's example and applied for the academy, going in with the mindset to help those she could but also be as corrupt as needed to help Katerina. But then Katerina had switched up their plans, had made a choice of her own---she'd broken Lee's heart. There hadn't been a fight, hadn't been begging, Katerina hadn't given her that option. Katerina packed up her things and just left, gone before Lee had come home and nowhere to be found.

Lee had hunted, spent weeks out on the streets and going everywhere she could think the woman would have gone. She'd worked herself into a mess of a depression, anxiety, and malnutrition. What had stopped it was when Damon had committed her for her own safety. She'd spent half a year locked away to get herself back. And when she'd come out she'd never looked back. There was no hatred toward the woman she loves, no vendetta, or ill will. Lee had just moved on with the parts of her life she could.

------

Finding the address of one Katherine Pierce had been difficult, Lee had used every off the book resource she could (Lee may have kept the plan to be slightly corrupt in place) and it had taken almost all day to do so, but she'd done it. Lee had half the mind to stop by the woman's club, 'Katherine's' but the detective had ultimately decided that would be too public for this reunion and the topic they needed to discuss. So she'd waited. And really? Lee probably should have known the address she'd received would be where Katerina had bought. But it still surprised her. It was a large old plantation estate that the two had always dreamed of one day owning, their goal home for their future and however many children they could fill it with.

So she'd given Olivia the barest of explanations on where she was going, muttering something about needing to take the rest of the day off for personal reasons--same to Cragen the same line--and she's out the door.

Lee had parked her silver Jeep outside the closed gate and stepped out. Eyes taking in the property she hadn't driven by in almost a decade--she wonders briefly why Katerina had bought it, how she'd done it too. Sadly it seems she isn't going to be getting inside thought, unless she climbs the brick wall (which she's tempted to do). With a sigh she pulls her phone out to call her darkerweb tech guy, "Hey...I need you to get a cell phone number fo---" The words die on her lips though as she hears the engine of a rather luxurious Lamborghini as it pulls up toward the gates. "Nevermind." She's hanging up the phone as she turns to face the approaching car.

The Salvatore's nerves are high, hands slightly shaking but she's come this far, she won't let her nerves stop her now.

"Katerina," The Bulgarian accent rolling perfectly off her lips even after all these years, "We need to talk..."

#closed starter #storieswrittcn #v:tbd #tw murder #disordered eating tw #tw mental instability #tw mention of drugs #tw mention of violence #tw mental hospital #tw crime

10 notes · View notes

teacup-tai · 4 years

Text

Top Five of 2020

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

My lovely @the-starryknight thanks for the tag! I’ll tag a few people, but you probably already did it: @ruinsplume @kasjophe @gallifrey1sburning @quicksilvermaid @prolix- @dazedandinked

Right. This year was insane, I got stuck first half of the year in Ireland with only 2 friends close by, all my family in Brazil or Spain while I was writing my bloody master thesis (that is what I’m proudest of this year, but it’s not published yet, so won’t go in this list). I managed a lot of hard emotions in solitude, by myself, while reading drarry fics to keep afloat (great coping mechanism, actually!). And after handing my thesis and moving to Spain, I was feeling deeply empty. So I went back to fic-writing, after 2 or 3 years of not even looking at my old fics.

It all started when I saw the posts for prompt claiming on the @hd-hurtfest blog. To think how that post changed everything in my life is just bizarre. So I am very thankful! It has been a huge pleasure to go back to fic-writing and to re-embrace the HP fandom, mainly the drarry squad! To get to know so many lovely people and I’m forever grateful for that.

Here is my Top Five:

hear me (with your whole body): (Drarry, E, 9k) this is the fic I wrote for the hd-hurtfest 2020. I saw @quicksilvermaid’s prompt and I shivered. It lured me so much I had the whole plot in my head as soon as I finished sending the claim. It was so hard to write it. Because the topic is very sensitive: open relationships, sexual mismatch, bad communication skills. I brought most of my bad experiences in all these sensitive topics as if I was purging it from my body while writing ‘hear me’. It was a very raw process of looking into my own still bleeding wounds, but very cathartic. And it was hard because it was my very first drarry (I love drarry and I normally only read drarry, but I’ve never felt confident enough to write it), so I was very nervous. And in bloody English xD LOL but I’m bloody proud of it. I wanted to write something real without making a show of blaming one of the parts, at the same time I wanted to use and unreliable POV (Harry’s) and to bring forth all those very uncomfortable realities of jealousy, insecurity of one’s sexuality etc. in a way people could relate to. I’ve never imagined the response to this fic would be so nice, and many of the comments drove me to deep reflection. I’m specially happy about this fic because after writing ‘hear me’ something cracked open inside of me, in my own personal-romantic life and also in writing. Like a small miracle. And then, I couldn’t stop writing anymore.

Rebel Rebel: (Sirius/Remus. E, 5k) heh, Wolfstar is my OTP *-* So writing this tiny fic with ‘there was no war’ prompt for the sirius black fest was a bloody delight. The feeling of exploring their youth, in the early 80s and the whole atmosphere of that time was exhilarating! Bowie’s concerts, HIV+ and Aids, queer community and old school crushes. Giving them a future and professions was fun as fuck. But the best part was making Sirius Black fuck around, wild and free, you know. Because he bloody well deserved it. I love the writing style I explored there, very influenced by Caio Fernando Abreu, one of my favourite Brazilian writers and it was just great great fun!

Dragons Don’t Know Paradise: (Drarry + Wolfstar, E, 40k+ WIP) I need to post 3 more chapters along this next few days. I’m adding Dragons here because NEVER. IN. MY. LIFE I thought this story would come out of my head into the pages, and I’m so bloody happy, so bloody proud of myself. I cannot believe how much I’ve written in a month, about a plot that had some path in my head but never a shape, and how this all blossomed inside of me and how it’s coming out just brilliantly. I know I’ll think back at some point and think this and that are not great. But I think this fic is one of my best works, it deals with the queer community, with depression and acceptance, with HIV+ folk, and deep emotions. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of writing. And here it is, and writing it made me manage the fact that I wouldn’t be able to spend this xmas with my family, so I spent this last month with this characters and feeling the opposite of lonely. And to be able to write Harry having a family, you know, being raised by Remus and Sirius is just marvellous. I’m over the moon with wolfstar being great gaydads :D

Scorching: (Pansmione, E, 1.5k) first time I translated a Portuguese fic of mine to English. It was fun to do it, as it’s purely smutty smut and well, I love pansmione and it makes me greedy to go back to writing about this ship. I like how it turned out, but it’s not beta-ed so maybe it’s not great. But damn, I really like this Pansy. ^^

The Old Ways: (Voldemort/Walburga, M, 3k). So, I have a whole word document full of snippets on the Black family. As the Black family is my huge guilty pleasure (that’s why Tainara Black has been my pen name since 2005). I don’t like to think Walburga was only a mad pureblood bigoted woman, I like to think of her as being strongly magical and very sure of herself. Someone three-dimensional with knowledge of Dark magic of the old ways and a deep insanity that comes with legacy of pureness, but also with financial influence and management of old wizarding land. I realised Walburga is only 1 year older than Voldie, she is closest to his age than her husband or brother (if we follow the Balck Family Genealogical Tree), and this sparked a whole idea inside of me. So this fic is a character study of Walburga when Sirius is only 10 and Voldemort is organising a war, and I honestly think is one of my best fics (even though it wasn’t beta-ed). I loved writing about this powerful witch, that got stuck in keeping her bloodline alive, that gave up on great deeds of power and freedom to become a pureblood mother and wife. But it’s the fic no one reads, so I’m adding a bit of it here in hopes it may interest someone:

He climbs the last step of the noisy, rusty, winding stair, his eyes mapping the place in silent wonder. The rooftop is sombre. Rough grey cement floor and dead flower beds in a far corner, big dark clay pots with dead branches and dry bushes scattered around; the only living thing is an imposing carnivorous plant, it’s toothed lips opening and closing sharply around bugs and other insects.

She is right there, in the centre of the chaotic rooftop garden and he thinks the house is in shambles, and so is she. The moon is reflecting its cold brightness over her as if it were a stage light. He takes a second to contemplate her stance. He has never seen her like this before. It is such an incongruous sight it almost feels like he’s intruding. Is not a feeling he’s used to.

She’s perched in a high frail copper chair, her ankles crossed lightly, with pale bare feet against the dirty coarse floor, one white arm falling languidly from the armrest, her elegant fingers holding a thin long smoking pipe. Rings of smoke rising into the night sky. The back of her skull resting on the back of the chair, he can’t see her face from this angle, but he’s stunned by the imagery.

She looks almost mythical; with her long black mane messy and loose, barely touching the ground. He can’t remember when was the last time he’s seen her hair down, but he’s pretty sure it wasn’t that long, nor were there silver strikes colouring it in a mix of salt and pepper.

“How long do you plan to stare?” her voice is as rusty as the whole house and he scoffs.

keep reading

#my writing #my fics #tainara black #top five 2020

18 notes · View notes

ladylunasolis · 4 years

Text

Zutara Week 2020 - Day 1 “Reunion”

This is my first ever work for Zutara and ATLA - also my first work of any kind in years. Zutara has always been one of my OTPs and the re-watching the show reminded me how much I love the ship. We only had so many episodes to see them together...but this fandom keeps them alive. This is a more Zuko-centric piece, as I really like to wonder about his POV. Please enjoy “Reunion!”

Rating: G

It has been almost two years after the war had ended. There were some things Zuko had a more challenging time with as new Fire Lord. One was weeding out the Ozai loyalists in his councils. Second was smiling so much. He barely got used to that when he was with the rest of the gang. Of course, he didn’t necessarily need to smile but with the right people, it helped. He was initially a bit rusty with economics but with Iroh’s occasional visits and reading recommendations, Zuko made great progress.

Another area for growth was replying to the numerous gifts and letters he received from dignitaries throughout the world. After one round of answering letters took over an hour in a chair (he insisted he reply himself to make things more personal) he realized he was not quite there yet. Zuko tended to think better while pacing so he employed a transcriber.

As many things were challenging, there were many things Zuko did well. Some of these strengths include memorizing the names of his servants and being able to take into consideration the viewpoints of the needy/working class. He was for the people. He was open to hearing input, though did not hesitate to tell someone when their words were disrespectful. Although he was awkward, kids liked to talk to him. He was great at international relations.

And he always, always replied to Katara within 2 days - in his own writing.

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Hakoda, waterbending master, ambassador. The girl who saved his life. Not too long after his coronation ceremony she had left to fix the rest of the world, alongside Avatar Aang. In the months that passed her departure, every time he closed his eyes he would see hers. He would see those deep blue eyes peering down at him, the first thing he would see after Azula’s attack. He remembered how they brimmed with tears. He remembered that not even the blue of Azula’s fire or hell, the blue of Azula’s lighting, could compare to the blue of Katara’s eyes.

He had wanted to say it, wanted to ask her if he was crazy to think there was something there because she felt it too right? A few days had passed after the pomp and circumstance of the coronation. She was checking to make sure he was healing well, her glowing hands running over his exposed stomach, making his abs contract.

“So...” Katara started off shyly. She had a blush on her cheeks and a small smile, but did not meet his eye. This was it, Zuko thought. This is the moment!

“I think me and Aang are going to give this a shot. I mean this, like, me and him. Together.” She became very flustered and brought the water back to the bowl, looking to see if any drops had fell though he damn well knew that wasn’t possible. Silence came over the two of them, except for the roaring of Zuko’s heartbeat in his ears.

He was unsure how much time has passed until Katara started to shift and stand up, brushing off invisible lint. “Okay well you’ve healed past anything serious, it’ll just be some pain—.”

“Thank you.” Zuko tied his shirt and stood up as well. He towered over Katara, who was looking down, playing with her hair. Zuko was definitely aware of the pain he would be feeling, now and for a long time coming. But it wasn’t from the agni kai. The next words kind of just came out on their own.

“Are you happy?”

Katara looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, with a small smile. She kept eye contact for a moment, which made Zuko wonder if she was searching for something in his own eyes. Then the moment passed. “I am! I really am.”

Zuko felt the urge to say more, but another thought crossed his mind. Who was he to get in the way of her happiness? He saved her life and almost sacrificed his own, sure, but Aang had done just the same. Aang was a good kid. Aang would protect her. Aang is in love with her... With Zuko, he wasn’t even completely sure yet how he felt - he just knew that he wanted her around. But that wasn’t enough to keep her from love. So Zuko cleared his throat and returned the soft smile, placing a hand on Katara’s shoulder.

“I’m really glad.” And he meant it.

He watched her leave a few days later, after hugging both her and Aang, wishing them both safe travels and letting them know they were welcome any time. Zuko could distinctly remember standing on the palace steps long after the air bison had disappeared into the horizon. To distract himself from regrets, he buried himself in work. It was effective about 90% of the time.

Zuko would also still see Mai, and though he felt a familiarity for her it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Katara - whatever that was. He would spend time with Mai when he could, try to get things back to where they were before he left to join the gang, but his mind would wander. To the argument they had on Ember Island “At least I feel something!” Or to brilliant blue. The kisses and touches he shared with Mai paled next to what stirred within him when Katara merely said his name.

Then the letters started arriving.

The letters started a little more than two months after Katara and Aang left. They would come once a month, or two if they were closer. They started off with many “we went to” “we met with” “we did.” After another seven or eight months it was mostly Katara writing about her day and asking about Zuko’s day.

The fruit in the Earth kingdom are great, but I still like the Fire Nation’s better. Especially that one that’s soft and yellow in the middle. I forgot the name. But nothing beats sea prunes! You have to try some next time you come here.

Despite Mai’s lack of expression, Zuko knew she was very perceptive. Try as hard as he could, he wasn’t able to ever give her all of his attention. If he was honest, he would say he was almost desperate to forget Katara but it wasn’t fair to Mai to use her for that. Zuko opened his mouth to say something one day and she put a hand up to stop him.

“I get it. I don’t want to fight about it, but I never want to speak to you again either.” That stung, because in a way she was pretty much his only friend in the nation, but he knew it must have hurt her worse. And so he buried himself completely in work and firebending training.

A year after the war ended and peace had begun, a conference was held at the Fire Nation palace. It was decided the leaders of each nation would come together to encourage international coordination and morale between the nations. Zuko had fought against those Ozai-loyalists daily to combat the ideals that the Fire Nation was the best of all. He had advocated diligently to open their eyes to how the other nations work, to be able to learn from them, and to share the Fire Nation’s ways without having to over their land.

Plus, it would be a good chance to see his friends again.

On the day of the Conference of Peace Zuko awoke even earlier than usual and went through some of his firebending forms. He felt jittery, shaky, alert. But he was excited. Him, Zuko, excited! He was sitting in the conference chamber an hour before the meeting started that day. It had been too long since he had seen Katara. Is she taller? Is her hair done in the same way? Will she still smile when she sees me?

Then the nerves set in. Am I taller? Am I fitting into my royal robes well enough? Wait, are the royal robes too much? I know Katara’s not the type to—. He had to shake his head quickly, before his thoughts ran away with him. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s with Aang. So stupid.”

When Sokka came announced as Water Tribe Ambassador, Zuko had to grit his teeth to curb his initial reaction. Sokka was charming and cheerful as usual. “What’s up, Fire Lord? I’m here reppin’ the Water Tribe!” He wrapped an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and leaned into him.

“H-Hey, Sokka,” Zuko managed. He cleared his throat. “It’s great to see you. Uh where’s Katara?”

“Oh yeah, so right before she was gonna leave I guess almost all of the village got sick with something they haven’t seen before. Katara had been healing for days but it’s something that needs multiple treatments or something. Wait, you didn’t get a letter? Well I guess I got here before the letter since I’ve been traveling closer with Suki.”

At this point they heard the unmistakable groan of an air bison and Aang landed Appa in the square, and from far away they could see his arm up and waving. Everyone will remember that first conference as one where Fire Lord Zuko was informative, but his expression hardly changed the entire time. Some would say he was even a little surly.

Zuko caught up with Sokka and Aang and while it was truly great to see them, he couldn’t help but wonder where Katara’s letter was. As curious as he was about her, he wasn’t going to bombard her brother and her boyfriend for information. Sure enough, he had found her letter at the end of the second day.

I’m so sorry Zuko, my people need me. Even though people are recovering it’s taking multiple rounds of healing for each person and I’m the only one who can heal at this pace. By the time you read this Sokka will probably have told you already. But I just wanted you to know I really did want to see youand everyone.

The last words seemed to be scribbled together, like she had an afterthought to add “and everyone” over where she originally placed a period after “you.” I’m probably just imagining it - the thought flooded Zuko’s mind, but he was able to sit up late and respond.

You’re right, Sokka did get to me first. But don’t worry, your people come first and I’m wishing them all a quick recovery. They have a great healer there after all, Master Katara. Zuko paused, before continuing on. It would have been great to see you, too. Hopefully that will happen some time soon.

After the conference, there were no letters for a month or two. Needless to say, Zuko berated himself. “Scared her off,” he muttered to himself, throwing a towel into a soiled linen basket. He had just finished some training, taking his frustration out on himself. Zuko noted there was a mail delivery and his eyes lit up when he saw the blue water tribe symbol. He opened it eagerly and skimmed through the long letter.

. . . Anyways, I love being home. It’s nice to be with family and wear my furs, though I’ve been growing a bit so I may have to get new ones soon! I’ve been so busy ever since 2 of the kids found out they can waterbend. Being home does sometimes feel different though. I guess it just takes a little getting used to for me to be back here because this is the longest I’ve been home or even 1 place since me and Sokka found Aang. But since Aang and I broke up, I just decided to stay here for a bit. We’re still friends, probably better friends than girlfriend-boyfriend, but thought that the space would be good.

Zuko stopped. “Since Aang and I broke up…” A fire lit within him. He read it over again in disbelief. This was his chance! Finally! He was going to-! Zuko shook himself, and ran a hand over his face, eyes skimming the letter over. “No. Come on, Zuko, she probably doesn’t want to be jumped on after a break up. They were together a while. How long have they been broken up for anyway?”

After some thought, and calming exercises, he picked up a quill. Zuko wrote out the general greetings and response to the daily activities she had in her letter. He hesitated and continued on.

I’m sorry to hear about you and Aang but that’s great you two are still friends. As you know, it doesn’t always end up that way. I’m sure you two will continue working on making the world a better place.

Zuko grimaced as he read his letter over. Before he could change his mind, he rolled the scroll up and went to the aviary.

The letters were different from then on.

I was really missing the turtleducks today! I wonder if those babies are all grown up now! Remember when you first showed them to me? We had so much fun.

The sunsets here are great, but sometimes I think about the sunsets in the Fire Nation. They’re completely opposite but still just as beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing all that I can to help people, or if I should be doing more. I’m doing great work here I know but I’m thinking about traveling again, learning more and bringing that knowledge back home.

Zuko would reply. He started to confide in her his fears and insecurities, in response to her becoming vulnerable with him too.

Those turtleduck babies have gotten bigger, but there are always more born every year. It would be nice to have a picnic by the pond to introduce you to them.

Next time you’re here, you have to see a sunset from my favorite spot. I’ll take you. And you’re right, opposites can both be equally great. Before I got to know you, I never knew water could be so strong and beautiful.

I know how you feel. Even though I’m seeing changes it can feel like I’m still fighting a battle. Sometimes I just get tired, but I just have to keep going. Sometimes broadening our horizons are the best ways to help our people.

The second Conference of Peace was approaching in another two months’ time. Of course, Zuko had invited Katara to be Water Tribe Ambassador once more and he waited with bated breath for her answer.

Zuko, of course I’ll be there! I can’t miss it two years in a row. I actually wanted to let you know, I was thinking of spending time there before the conference. I’m in the Earth Kingdom right now. I traveled here since my last letter, thanks to your encouragement! Since we’ve been talking about the Fire Nation and things I haven’t seen yet, I thought it would be a good chance to do a little bit of that before we have to all talk business. But if it’s not a good idea, or if you’re too busy, I understand.

Zuko, who had been working on the speed of his replies, replied and sent right after he read her letter.

Of course you’re welcome to come. I would love to have you here.

Weeks later, Fire Lord Zuko stood on the docks, staring out to sea. Many citizens were quick to recognize him and Zuko gave each of them a nod of his head or a wave. He knew this was a little odd, but he didn’t care. He was finally going to see Katara again. They had so little time together in person before she had to depart so he didn’t really know what to call his feelings then. All he knew was he cared enough about her to give his life. That had not changed with Zuko, but he now knew what he feels for her now.

He saw Katara on deck, leaning on the railing, before she saw him. Her chestnut hair was partially up, hair loops still in tact. She was wearing a new blue outfit that matched the tan of her skin. And her smile when she saw him was brighter than the sun. He noticed the way she flicked her wrist, and the sudden wave that brought the ship closer even quicker.

She made her way down the dock and Zuko had to remind himself he is the damn Fire Lord, look noble! But he sure as hell still felt like a teenager despite his age making him an official adult now. He wanted to run and hug her but was able to control himself enough to take a few steps towards the smiling waterbender.

“Hi Zuko,” Katara said, and her voice was a song to his ears. Better than any song he ever heard on music night, by far. She smiled up at him, because even though she had grown a little he had grown a lot. “It’s been too long.”

And then he looked into those eyes, just as blue and expressive as he remembered them. They had haunted him in the most tormenting way but now that his eyes were meeting her’s again, all the pain was worth it.

“You’re right, Katara. It has been.” And Zuko smiled, the emotions reaching his golden eyes. His smile was a promise - a promise to show her everything she wanted to see, and that he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted. Not ever again.

Thank you for reading!

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #writing #reunion

61 notes · View notes

aenariasbookshelf · 4 years

Note

OTP Quarantine Edition #03: "Either you're going to learn to do my hair or you're letting me do yours."

The first quarantine ficlet, as promised. :D A heads up to any readers, don’t come to these ficlets looking for any deep or poignant thoughts on the current world situation. We know what’s going on outside. These little, borderline cracky ficlets are designed to be pure amusement that hopefully make you smile instead.

(okay, this ficlet is more inspired by the prompt rather than following it to the letter, but I think the spirit is there...)

**********

It’s still incredibly early in the morning when Darcy’s roused out of sleep by the sound of Steve’s voice somewhere behind her. He’s speaking quietly, but intensely, sending a small shudder of alarm down her back. She flips over in bed to see Steve perched on the edge of the mattress, hunched over so that his tense shoulders are practically around his ears. “Are you sure?” she hears him saying. A few moments go by, then there’s a muffled curse, and a deep sigh. “All right,” Steve says. “Keep me updated. Yeah. We’ll talk soon.” Steve hangs up, all but tosses the phone onto the nightstand, and slumps over, running his hands back through his hair.

“Everything okay?” Darcy asks. She shuffles closer to him in the rumpled sheets, putting a sleep-warmed hand on his ribs to let him know that she’s there.

“Not really,” Steve replies with another deep sigh. “The entire state of New York is pretty much going into quarantine because of the virus going around.”

“Even the team?”

Steve nods, still not looking back at Darcy. “Unless it’s a high level emergency, we are being asked by the governor to set a good example and shelter in place.”

Well, shit, Darcy thinks. The quarantine itself wasn’t exactly a surprise; the media had been rife with speculation about it for weeks, and it was the constant hot topic of conversation in the labs at the compound. Along with lots of chatter from on-site amateur epidemiologists who got a lot of their co-workers very worried very quickly. But she’ll worry about work afterwards - once the sun comes up she and Jane are going to have to have a long chat about what they’re going to do for the next few weeks. She pushes herself mostly upright and rests herself against Steve’s back, propping her chin on his bare shoulder and winding her arms around his waist. “If it’s easier, we could pack up a couple of bags and go ride this out at the compound. You’d be in the middle of the action that way?”

She feels him breathe under her arms, and one hand steals up to lace his fingers through hers. “Nah. This place feels a lot more like home than compound does,” Steve says, giving her a soft, affectionate glance back at her. “And if they really need me, we’re only twenty minutes away here.”

“Good,” Darcy murmurs into his skin, pressing a kiss against the curve of his shoulder. “I want this apartment to be a home for both of us...but being stuck at home for weeks on end can’t be easy.”

Steve shrugs, just a little. “It happened a lot when I was sick as a kid, days on end stuck in bed while I was recovering. At least now we can walk around...and we have the internet. I would have loved to have the internet back then.”

“Somehow, even if it’s hard, we will Make. This. Work.”

**********

Three days later…

Steve usually isn’t the type of person prone to spacing out, but three days into quarantine and he’s feeling off balance. He hasn’t felt this sort of inaction since before the war, and...well, he’s not used to that anymore (despite the fact that everyone, including Darcy, has been saying for ages that he needs to take a vacation and get some time to breathe). Standing in the shower under the hot, steaming spray, it’s all too easy for his brain to wander away, and he focuses on the feel of the water sluicing down his skin instead.

Three minutes later his little bubble of calm is shattered by the bathroom door bursting open, the door handle clattering on the tile with a noise loud enough to make him jump halfway out of his skin. He can tell it’s Darcy so he’s not entirely alarmed, but the disgruntled muttering is strident enough to carry even over the water. Then, the bandanna that Darcy had been using as a face mask sails over the shower curtain to land with a wet splat on the floor. This is quickly followed up by the curtain being whipped back and a naked, angry Darcy slipping into the shower too. Only…

“What happened to your hair?” Steve asks, frowning. He plucks gingerly at a clump of strands that looks like it’s been covered in some strange detritus that’s giving off a distinctly unpleasant odor.

Darcy just growls and shoves her head underneath the spray. “The neighbor’s dog slipped his leash again. And while he is an absolute lovebug, he also forgets that he’s almost as big as I am and not a lap dog. So, his affectionate greeting knocked me straight into the garbage bins...which are all full because pickup’s tomorrow.” She whips her hair out of her face and looks balefully up at Steve, who has to fight back the amused laughter.

He reaches out for her hair again, stroking it carefully to remove some of the...material from it. “I’ve got a beard trimmer somewhere around here if we have to cut anything out of it.”

This time the glare he gets is even more lethal, and he has to double down on the not laughing thing, because she really does look adorable. “If you want to learn how to do my hair, suggesting a beard trimmer is not the way to go. And besides,” she stretches up, ruffling Steve’s own damp hair until it flops over his eyes, “if that’s what you think the best option for taking care of hair is, we’ll see what you really think about that in a few weeks when this mop starts to get overgrown. At which point I will have fun with the beard trimmer.”

Steve lets the smile take over his face fully, and he grabs the coconut scented shampoo that Darcy always prefers to use. “How about a wash instead?”

“Better,” Darcy smiles. She turns around, revealing the curling mass of her hair along with a stretch of smooth, pale back that he can’t wait to get his hands on. “Now put those magic fingers of yours to good use.”

#darcy x steve #shieldshock #darcy lewis #steve rogers #ficlet #my fic #mcu #corona coping #fic prompts #Anonymous #ask aenaria

69 notes · View notes

bisexualsforprompto · 5 years

Text

Worth Chapter Four

“Oh Lila! Do you think Damian Wayne will be on the tour today?!” Rose asked after Kay and Marinette left the lobby. Lila smiled, ‘back in business’.

“Oh my Damidear is so busy, he sadly doesn’t have enough time.” Rose deflated a little. Alya shook her head, “You deserve better girl.”

Lila put her hand on Alya’s shoulder, “Oh no Alya! Damian’s amazing, he even wants to marry me someday. He gave me a promise ring,” she lied as she flashed her pearly whites. “Unfortunately I had to leave it at home, too many unsavory characters like Marinette would try to take it from me.”

Alya shook her head, “I can’t believe that girl, especially what she just said to you. Could she have been more rude?”

Lila sighed and put an over dramatic hand to her forehead, “I just don’t know what I ever did to make her hate me!” Alya patted her shoulder sympathetically, “There, there girl. Trust me Mari-“

“Oh my god!!!” Exclaimed Kim as he pointed out the window. Lila frowned as more people gathered towards Kim. She started seething, they should be paying attention to her. She spun around crossing her arms to see Alya had crossed to the window too.

“No way!” The Ladyblogger shouted as she peered out the window. Lila sashayed over to see what all the fuss was about only to see Marinette of all people get in-

“A limousine!” Rose squealed.

‘How on Earth did Marinette get a limousine to pick her up?!’ Lina fumed. Lila lit up, an idea.

“I can’t believe Marinette would do that!” Lila cried, waiting for all eyes to be on her, “She knew the Waynes were sending me a special limousine! I was gonna bring all of you! It was supposed to be a surprise, but Marinette hi jacked it!” She started to wail as the class she had wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger ran to comfort her.

“First she insults you, now this!” Alya huffed as she started to walk outside, “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind. My bestie is totally out of line!” Lila started to panic, she tugged on Alya’s shirt bringing her back into her circle of followers.

“No wait! It’s too late now! Look they’re driving away!” Lila said, the class could’ve sworn she sounded almost relieved as the limousine drove past.

“That girl is gonna pay.” Alya depanned as she punched her fist into her hand. Lila smiled deviously, ‘You won’t know what hit you Marinette Dupain-Cheng.’

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“God you’re such an attention whore!” Kay yelled teasingly at her once blonde girlfriend. Chloé tossed her hair and patted her girlfriend on the head, “You say that like it’s a bad thi-“

“See what I have to deal with Alfred!” Kay interjected as she giggled while Chloé started tickling her. “Hey! Hey! Cut that out!” Marinette sighed and smiled lightly as she shook her head at her dorky best friends.

“So Miss Marinette,” Alfred started keeping his eyes glued on the road while the couple stayed in their own little world, “How are you liking Gotham so far?”

Marinette smiled at Alfred’s politeness. “I haven’t seen much, but from what I’ve gotten to see, it’s beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m a bit of an amateur designer and this city is full of inspiration.” She heard Chloe scoff beside her, “Amateur?! Alfred, this girl has designed for the Gabriel Agreste, my...my mother even wanted to take her on.” Chloé remarked, wincing at the thought of her mother. Kay put a sympathetic hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, “It’s ok.” She whispered softly into her ear. “Yeah! Mari is so good! She designed the costumes for the movie my mom is directing!” Kay exclaimed, beaming in pride at her closest friend.

Marinette blushed and smiled softly, “Thanks guys.” Chloé rilled her eyes and muttered, “Amateur, ridiculous utterly ridiculous.”

“As much as I’ve enjoyed meeting your friend and seeing Miss Bourgeois again,” Alfred started as he pulled in front of a tall sleek building, “It would appear, Miss Kay, that we have arrived.” Marinette’s eyes widened as she instinctively reached for her sketchbook, “this is Wayne Enterprises?” She asked bewildered.

“Indeed it is Miss Marinette. Oh! Master Damian and Master Dick will be waiting in the lobby.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“TT.” Damian complained as he folded his arms.

“Hush baby bird!” Dick exclaimed, beaming, as he ruffled Damian’s hair causing the boy to glare at him. “The French class should be here soon and I’m sure they don’t want a grumpy sourpus on their tour.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Damian brooded. Dick let out a chuckle, “Sure thing baby bird.” Damian scowled. “Oh lighten up! Besides, your cousin is gonna be here!”

“Khan is not my cousin.” Dick rolled his eyes, “Friend, whatever, same difference.”

“What gave you the impression that Khan of all people was my friend?” Damian asked as he faced his brother with an icy glare. “Really baby bird?” Dick laughed, “She's the only one you hang out with aside from the Teen- your team and Jon.” Dick said putting an arm around his brother which Damian promptly shoved away, “Not to mention she’s not even a hero and you still chose to spend time with her.” Dick finished in a low whisper.

“Kaylené is tolerable.” Damian said, resigned. “Oh all of a sudden she’s Kaylené?” Dick teased.

“Shut up.” Damian stated, “and I’m surprised you’re so happy.” Dick furrowed his brows, “Why's that?”

“Because you forgot who’s practically attached to her hip. You know wherever Khan is, Bourgeois is not far behind.” Dick’s eyes bulged, “Oh sh-“

•~•~•~•~•~•

“By the way Chloé, why is Dick so afraid of you?” Kay asked casually as they began to walk towards the building. Chloé smirked, “Oh don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Chloé patted Kay’s head as the curly brown haired girl cocked her head to the side. Kay was still wondering.

Marinette didn’t want to know.

“Ahhh. Wayne Enterprises!” Chloé exclaimed tossing her hair, “My home away from home.” Kay chuckled at her girlfriend’s flamboyance.

“Thought I was your home away from home.” She teased as they pushed open the glass doors into the building. Chloé scoffed tossing her hair once more, “Don't be ridiculous,” she said rolling her eyes, “You are my home.”

“Get a room.” Said a lanky tall boy with black hair and blue eyes. He had just walked up to a man who shared his same features but was more buff and a short boy who with copper skin and green eyes.

“Timikins!” Chloé exclaimed as she embraced the man. The buff man next to him shied away in fear while the smaller one rolled his eyes. Wearing a dazzling smile, the one looking the eldest of the three walked up and hugged Kay.

“How’s my favorite cousin doing?” The eldest man asked with a grin. Kay smiled cheekily as the man rubbed her hair playfully. “Great! Thanks for waking us up Dick!” The smallest boy, the one next to Dick, was scowling with his lips slightly upturned like he was hiding a smile.

“Mari meet Damian!” Kay said as she gestured to the green-eyed boy.

“Nice to meet you.” Marinette said extending her hand.

“TT.” Dick shot Damian a glare. “Nice to meet you too,” he grumbled. Dick smiled at her apologetically. Tim and Chloé separated and walked over to the group gathered in the Wayne Enterprises lobby.

“How long do we have until your intolerable classmates arrive?” Damian asked sharply. Dick winced and Tim let out a sigh. Kay frowned lightly.

“Don’t worry about them!” Chloé said waving off the subject that Kay was not comfortable with. Marinette got slightly worried when she saw the smirk on Chloé’s face. She got really worried when Chloé’s expression twisted into a mischievous grin. “Worry more about your new girlfriend over here.” Marinette face palmed as Chloé gestured to her. Kay smiled.

“My what?” Spat Damian drilling holes into Marinette’s skull.

“Kay ships you too.” Chloé said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t speak fandom.”

“Oh my god yes!” Dick squealed. “It’s perfect! My brother and MDC!” Marinette’s eyes widened, “You recognized me?!” She sputtered. Dick nodded his head wildly,

“Oh you’re practically family already!” He said bringing her in for a bone crushing hug. Stoneheart’s grip had nothing on Dick Grayson.

“TT.” Damian pouted. Dick pulled away from Marinette sheepishly.

“My otp will sail!” Kay exclaimed as she fist pumped Dick.

“I don’t have enough coffee to deal with this.” Tim said rubbing his temples and walking up the stairs he had come down from.

“This is gonna be awesome!” Kay practically shouted as she and Dick beamed at each other’s newly found common interest.

Of course right on cue, Lila Rossi entered the room sending all happiness crumbling down.

Taglist (I’m on mobile so I got cut off at 50, but I’ll get the rest of you):

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@tog84

@thequestionablyhuman

@thyladyanput

@vixen-uchiha

@novicevoice

@2sunchild2

@zebrabaker

@chrismarium

@mycupisbroken

@winter-gardenflower

@dast218

@bluerosette23

@chocolatecatstheron

@anjuschiffer

@fertileleaf

@drarryismylife101

@zerotosiki

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@krispydefendorpolice

@octoberscorn

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@clumsy-owl-4178

@queenmj10

@shreky-boi

@magic-miraculous

@gingerdailie

@mooshoon

@ladylb

@eve-is-the-dawn

@bee-wrecker

@fiendsangelical

@captainmac6

@7-sage-7

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@st0rmy-w1th1n

@fatimaabbasrizvi

@mindfulmagics

@fics-by-maria

@miraculous-simmer7

@kuroko26

@severelyenchantedwonderland

@shewhoridesonrainbows

@shizukiryuu

@melicmusicmagic

@thesunanditsangel

@hnbutt

@caffeinetheory

@persephonescat

@nomiegnome

191 notes · View notes