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pandasleepy07 · 8 months ago

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Ghostober - Day 10 [Air] 18+

Pairing | Air x fem reader

⚠️ Warnings | NSFW, sexual themes, ghoul in heat, knotting, MDNI

"This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us."

WC: 1.2 K

You’ve been hiding in your room for the past couple of days, refusing to come out, refusing to let anyone in. You had pushed every possible piece of furniture up against the door, each piece behind the last, up until the last thing you had in the line up was squeezed in between the wall and your desk. It held up against the different ghouls coming to check up on you.

Right now you were curled up in your nest, attempting to sleep. Not that you were having any luck. The room was dark, and so was your vision, light dizziness overtaking your normal function. Your claws had sprung out and you’d reacted on instinct, barricading yourself into your room. You weren’t sure why. You had never been normal in the pit, why would you be normal topside?

You roll over, a whine escaping your lips as a headache slowly begins to throb behind your eyes and an ache in your lower stomach begins to grow. You curl up, your claws extending and sinking into your palm.

Fuck. Not now. Not that blasted heat.

You drag yourself out of your nest, and walk over to your bathroom, ripping cabinets open as you desperately search for your heat suppressants. You hunch over, as a wave hits hard, and whimper. The second it’s manageable you continue your search, panic rising as each shelf you search doesn’t contain what you need. You need your heat suppressants. You can’t let your packmates know. You need to ride it out on your own. A mindset that’s been drilled into you since you were old enough to deal with your first heat, kicks in.

A new wave hits and you gasp, this one far more intense than the last and worse than any of your other heats. Your knees buckle and you fall to the ground, your claws scratching the counter in an attempt to stay upright. The ache in your lower abdomen only gets worse with each passing minute as your skin heats up more and more but you can’t move. You can’t do anything. You can’t even call for help. The pack is supposed to be in the band room, practicing.

You don’t know how long you stay curled up on the bathroom floor, or when you shifted from squatting to lying down on the cool tiles. All you know is the cold floor feels nice against your heated skin. Nor do you know what’s going on when you feel wind rattling through your room. The furniture in your room moves, sliding across the floor away from the door before the doors themselves fly open.

If the powers themselves hadn’t given it away, the scent that follows does. The light, subtle smell of morning dew and the distinct earthy scent that the air always holds before it rains fills the room. Air.

“Go away,” you whimper as he strides to you, desperately holding your breath to stop his scent from putting you into a tizzy.

“No,” Air grumbles, reaching for you. He easily pulls you up, seating you on the counter after a swipe with his tail clears space for you.

“Air,” you protest. “I’m-”

“This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us,” he cuts you off firmly. He takes a step back and walks over to your tub, filling it up with cold water. As the water runs he returns to you and gently strips you of the clothes you had on, not that it was much. “The whole pack can smell your heat,” Air growls, picking you up, and crossing the small room to the bathtub. “It’s throwing us all off.”

He steps into the tub and lowers you both into the cold water. The cool temperature makes you gasp, and his scent invades your senses once more. This time you can’t stop your reaction, leaning forward to press your face into his chest, inhaling as much as you possibly could. He scoops water from the tub up in his cupped hands and pours it onto your back. You shiver, goosebumps scattering across your skin as your nipples harden. The contrast in temperature is almost overwhelming and your claws dig into his sides, a whimper falling from your lips.

“You should have told someone,” Air murmurs, his head dipping down. You tense at the feeling of his cool fangs grazing your shoulder as he teases you.

“I don’t need anyo-”

He cuts you off as he nips your shoulder. “You were caving in on yourself when I came in here. You may think you don’t need anyone but you need something we can offer.” His hand slips between your thighs and your head tilts back as he presses down on your clit. A moan falls from your lips and your hips involuntarily roll, trying to get more.

He pulls his hand away. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you whine.

When he doesn’t respond, you groan and huff out the answer he’s looking for. “Fine. I need you.”

“Atta girl,” Air praises, his hands grasping your hips. Within seconds and with no time to figure out what he’s doing, he’s got you spun around, water sploshing over the side of the tub, your back against his chest, your knees slung over his, his own kneecaps poking out of the water. Your brows furrow in confusion before you feel it.

“Oh,” you gasp, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder, your eyes rolling back.

He nips your ear, and you can feel the slight curve of his lips that would insinuate the fucker is smiling as he lifts your hips and slams you back down. Water sloshes over the sides of the tub and the last coherent thought you’re able to make is They need to replace these tubs with higher walls.

“Yes, they do,” Air chuckles. His laughter turns into a throaty groan as you clench around him, realizing you’d spoken out loud.

He lifts you up and brings you down again, hitting that familiar spot that makes you see stars. Your back arches and you roll your hips to meet his next thrust as your hand reaches behind you, threading into his hair. Your claws brush against his horn and his cock twitches. He thrusts harder and a hand releases one of your hips, sliding around to the apex of your thighs and circling your clit as your thighs begin to shake. His other arm snakes around your waist holding you steady.

You feel Air’s knot swelling as you clench around him, hitting your high, your head tilted back resting on his shoulder as you both cum. His hips rut back and forth, stimulating himself as his knot keeps the two of you locked together. You whine in protest as he does so lazily, feeling too tired to go again.

When he does slide out, you go lax against him and he chuckles softly, lifting you out of the tub, and wrapping you in a towel as the water drains. Once you’re dried off enough, he picks you up and carries you to your nest, placing you down gently. A content purr fills the air as you drift off, finally able to sleep peacefully.

Air returns to the bathroom, stripping out of his soaked clothes and hanging them up. He mops up the water that had spilt onto the floor with a towel, before drying his shirt with your hair dryer. He does the same with his pants but only puts his pants on again. He takes the now-dried shirt over to your nest and places it down next to you before slipping out of the room, leaving you to sleep in peace.

This is only my second time writing anything about it so I apologize.

๋࣭🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑Ghostober Masterlist 2024⭑ 🕸๋࣭ ⭑🦇🕸 ๋࣭

#ghost band #ghost ghouls #nameless ghouls #ghostober #ghostober 2024 #air x reader #air ghoul #air ghost #nameless ghoul smut #ghost band fic

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shadowbunnydragon · 1 year ago

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To Bailey, Lily, and Russell: Since you’re dating a predator, what kind of relationship challenges do you face? I’m only asking because I’m a guy and I’ve had a male wolf friend recently come to me and ask me out

Russell, his ears turning pink: "Uh... w-well..."

Baily: "You do have to remember that us humans are omnivores, making us predators as well. Granted, our lack of claws or sharp teeth kinda make that a bit hard to believe for some mammals..."

He reaches into his coat pocket to pull out his buzzing phone, accidentally swiping up and hitting the speaker option.

Leodore: "Hey there, Barney! Just calling to let you know that I've mulled it over, and I still find it silly that you guys are predators. No offense, but you kinda look more like how we'd make a felt puppet mascot for a show to teach very young mammals tolerance and understanding and all that nonsense towards predators. Basically you're predator lite, if you catch my meaning. Also wanted to let you know that I'm gunna be kinda late for our next card reading session, things did NOT work out in the waste disposal union like I had thought it would. Seriously, you make one, or several, jokes about organized crime connections, and suddenly everyone gets up into a tizzy... oh great, it looks like I'm getting pulled over now. I probably shouldn't be talking on my phone while driving, but this is just getting ridiculous. Anyways, see you in maybe an hour."

The phone goes silent, the three humans staring wide-eyed at it in silence.

Lily: "Anyways... it's true that there have been some challenges. Like smaller herbivorous mammals sometimes being nervous around us and giving us side-eyed looks and wide berths."

Russell: "Patricia and David told me that it was a lot worse towards predators a few years ago, but that it's gotten better. The specism towards predators in general, I mean. But then there's also... some members of Jackson's pack aren't too happy with him not dating another jackal, or at the very least, another canid... and sometimes, despite the brave face he puts on... you can see that it does in fact hurt him from time to time..."

Lily: "Some of Renato's family has voiced similar concerns... with his great-grandmother suggesting that we are some kind of evil spirits that have started appearing to work a dark mischief... whatever that means."

Baily, rubbing the back of his head: "I might be kinda lucky in that regard. I'm sure some members of Sophia's pride might not be too happy with her bringing in a human... especially one who was, until very recently, homeless. But thanks to a 'certain someone' and their increasingly embarrassing antics, I guess I'm looking golden in comparison..."

His phone buzzes again and, after receiving now somewhat amused nods from the other two, Baily swipes up and enables the speaker function yet again.

Leodore: "No, officer, you've got this all wrong! That wad of money just fell out of my pocket! It was not a bribe! Speeding and talking on my phone when driving is around $150 here, I've gotten enough tickets for that to know by now; so why would I try to give you $400 when I can just bite the bullet and pay this fine?! OOF!" A loud slamming sound followed by a muffled voice speaking. "Oh, uh, Basil, we're gunna need to have a rain check for that reading. Apparently someone needs to FILL A QUOTA!"

The call ends.

Lily: "... Anywho, opening your heart to someone can be scary, and each time there will be their own sets of challenges. But, there's the chance that you could find someone who makes your heart sing... ahem, and whom you get on with wonderfully. Ultimately, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my big fluffy Marshmallow."

Baily: "I never thought I could feel the way I do about Sophia. Sometimes I wonder if she isn't an angel..."

Russell: "And I'm really glad that I said yes to Jackson! I don't know how things will go down the road, but I'm really happy here and now!"

Lily: "I think that it's safe to say that all three of us here wish you the best of luck with this wolf boy!"

#human #zootopia #comedy #foundfamily #fanfiction #the door #the keyhole #ao3 fanfic #shadowbunnydragon #adoption #leodore lionheart #renato manchas

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cleverhottubmiracle · 4 months ago

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On Friday, February 7, a connection between two celestial bodies that only happens every 18 years will occur. Neptune and the North Node are conjunct in the dreamy sign of Pisces, helping illuminate where we are heading, how to attain our dreams, and what is needed to help us heal. During the conjunction between these two space cadets, you’ll find that your intuition is heightened, your dreams are vivid, and your introspection is in overdrive.Neptune is one of the trickier planets in astrology. It represents all of the subconscious and hidden influences in our lives. Neptune rules over our dreams and imagination—but can often tiptoe into a world of illusion and glamour. If you need to learn about your spiritual practices and what makes your intuition the strongest, it’s also good to look to Neptune for answers. I often refer to Neptune as “the rose-colored glasses” of astrology because a hazy and delusional period usually comes with any Neptune transit.However, Neptune is also the god of the seas—and if you are anything like me, you know that the ocean, though beautiful, can also strike fear in our hearts. The sea is a vast, undiscovered world that can go from peaceful to turbulent at the drop of a hat. Neptune expresses the most profound complexities of the human experience—revealing how even our wildest dreams can send us into a tizzy of anxiety and stress. But at the end of the day, this planet wants us to release control and heal through having faith that all things will work out when we trust our gut.As for the North Node, that is your celestial Jiminy Cricket—your conscience guiding you toward the next important chapter of life. The North Node, the sister of the South Node, reveals the direction we are heading, like a checkpoint you’re trying to reach in the video game of life. It’s essential to look to the North Node for answers if you are confused about what you are growing into and what significant life changes are coming your way. And with its connection to the South Node, we can understand what we need to let go of in order to appreciate these changes fully.Neptune is the natural ruler of Pisces, paralleling the need for sacrifice and surrendering to the unknown. Pisces is also known for being profoundly expressive and daydreamy, so Neptune functions well here. Pisces is the mutable water sign, and much like a river that always finds its way to the sea, Pisces will teach us flexibility and how to fit into any situation. Pisces teaches us compassion and emotional vulnerability and that it is OK to dream big, even if it seems unrealistic at the time.With Neptune in Pisces, we’ve been learning how to heal through sacrifice, giving up some of our material comforts to create better experiences for ourselves and our loved ones. The transit of Neptune through its ruling sign has helped us all dream more prominently and expansively. We’ve seen many waves of humanitarian efforts—and people dissolving barriers that usually kept social groups apart. However, Neptune in Pisces’s darker side has shown us the illusion of glamour and how the glitz can often distract us from what we need to address on an internal level. We’ve felt the push and pull of being fearful of the unknown vs. saying vivere et vivere (live and let live)—having faith that all will work out if we trust ourselves.With the North Node in Pisces, which made the shift earlier this year, we are heading into massive levels of healing (something the world definitely needs right now). There will be continued conversations about climate, how to take better care of our oceans, and how to nurture the watery emotions within ourselves. This is a period where art will continue to grow, and human expression will take on a fluid tone—expect lots of cool exhibitions and music to come out. Most importantly, the North Node in Pisces reminds us that perfection doesn’t exist; letting go of that ideal is paramount. You might find that you are feeling the urge to let go of something blocking your relationships from getting more profound, or that you have less desire to live individualistically.What can you expect with the conjunction of these two celestial bodies? On an individual level, you can expect your dreams to be heightened over the next few days. Pay attention to anything that feels like deja vu or an omen, as well as your sleep cycles. You will be challenged to find a balance between Pisces’s low and high roads. The low road is the victim mentality that distracts us from our worth, avoidant behaviors, and failing to read between the lines (gullible habits). Thanks to this conjunction, the high road, which will be easier to follow, will help you on your spiritual journey, aiding you in tapping into your creative juices, and making you more inclined to perform some community outreach.This is an excellent time for you to pick up creative projects—music tends to be one of Pisces’s preferred mediums, so curate yourself a meditative and inspiring playlist to keep on in the background while you create. Additionally, you’ll want to meditate, pray, go to church, or whatever lets you connect to your version of spirituality. Doing a full body, mind, spirit, and home cleanse wouldn’t hurt. Let go of bad energy by refreshing your space—if it feels stale or has a negative memory, it might be good to consider letting it go.On a global level, I expect this conjunction to kick off “We Are the World 3.0.” Healing the collective spirit (and Mother Nature) is imperative right now, so taking actionable steps to keep us connected and respecting our neighbors will be a big trend. There will also be a creative and media revolution—expect how art looks, exists, and sounds to start changing in dramatic but inspiring ways.Although Neptune can be scary given its association with the unknown, trust that this conjunction is necessary for illuminating the dream you’ve been chasing. When you hesitate or ask “what if” and start to doubt your intuition’s validity, this transit’s magic turns dark. Trust yourself right now—because no one knows better than you what is needed to make your life better. As always, read your rising sign for the most accurate horoscope! Wishing you the best, and make some magic!AriesThe Neptune North Node conjunction will deepen your intuition. You’ll find your head in the clouds as your subconscious unravels, revealing what has been nagging you at your core. You might need to step back and spend some time to appreciate the messages fully—so lean into any meditative practice. I find that some kind of physical activity where you can “get in the zone” is usually best for Aries. This is a period of profound spiritual growth for you, and the more you connect to your spirit now, the more likely you’ll be able to clear any karmic blocks. Let go of control and embrace the unknown—that’s where the magic is hiding for you.TaurusThe Neptune North Node conjunction might have you idealizing your friendships and yearning for a spiritual connection to your community. If you feel disconnected, this is a good time to ask yourself why. You might feel a bit confused about where you fit in right now, but that is because you are probably holding yourself to unrealistic social standards. This transit will help dissolve the illusion that friendships need to be something specific. You are still learning to navigate the community, so find where you are the most energetically aligned with others. You might find it helpful to do this if you take on a more humanitarian leadership role in your social life.GeminiYou’re probably feeling a bit unclear about where you are heading professionally. Should you apply for a new job? Ask for a promotion? Perhaps say, “f*ck it” and start fresh in a new field? Right now, the push is to find purpose-driven work. Does the work you do make you feel as though you are contributing to a healing and creative journey? You will feel that your desire to hold onto a specific public image also starts to dissolve. Focus on stepping into your divine calling by keeping your core values at the center of your ambition. Have faith that if you step into any leadership roles right now, you can add the necessary value to your work.CancerThis is a very expansive time for you, breaking down the barriers of your beliefs and bringing plenty of intuitive learning forward. You might find that if you spend time outside your regular comfort zones (whether through travel or just taking the scenic route to work), you’ll have some mystical experiences, illuminating what the universe is trying to teach you. You’ll be overcoming any rigid belief systems that have kept you disillusioned from the truth. You’re being asked to expand your wisdom through freeing experiences. This, in turn, will help you take on an educator role, and you’ll be able to bestow the lessons on others!LeoExpect your third eye to be wide open during this time, as your psychic abilities will be heightened, helping you focus on what you need to make your dreams a reality. This transit has the potential to be deeply spiritual for you, but you may notice through this spiritual awakening that you are entangled with others too much. Perhaps you have money tied up or realize certain illusions in your intimacy and shared resources. You’ll need to embrace your more vulnerable side during the Neptune North Node conjunction to accept what will help you refine your mastery of shared connections.VirgoBright-eyed and bushy-tailed is how you will be—especially regarding your relationships. You might be idealizing some of your closer connections right now, but you are also attracting those who are meant to guide you down a path of healing. Take stock of any outdated relationship patterns you need to work on letting go of, and prioritize relationships with a spiritual connection. You are learning how to cooperate more effectively, but that will take compromise. Embrace your one-on-one connections that feel karmic—they have all the lessons you need right now.LibraYou probably feel a bit confused about work and specific health issues. Do not fear, because this transit can potentially answer some of those questions. You are learning to be disciplined in your daily routines, but be careful: too much rigidity could lead to burnout. You need to create structures that allow for healing throughout the routine. You are improving your work ethic by letting go of bad habits and accepting that intuitive feelings can inspire practical responsibilities. Trust your gut and listen to your circadian rhythm.ScorpioBaby, love is in the air, and you might be pulled to people who feel right. This transit will have you romanticizing love and increasing your desire to get creative in and out of the bedroom. There may be some blurred boundaries—so if you are in a committed relationship, bring your partner into these explorations. Embrace what inspires you right now, whether that’s dance, cooking, community service, etc. Allow yourself to shine by focusing on what pleases you. Hanging out in your fantasy world is acceptable right now.SagittariusThere is probably some lingering confusion about your home life and family dynamics with Neptune in conjunction with the North Node. This connection kicks off healing waves for you and your family. You might find childhood nostalgia brings a tear to your eye, but don’t let it turn into escapism. Prioritizing your emotional security will be necessary, which can be difficult when trying to develop family connections. So, walk the fine line and balance what you allow in. This is a perfect time to “break the cycle” and heal ancestral wounds that will help you create a true sense of home.CapricornExpect communication and messages to feel a bit blurry as the lines between logic and intuition become less clear. Although there may be confusion, pay attention to what messages are being said and what you receive from others. This is a heightened time for intuitive conversations—it will often feel like the world is a Shakespearean play. This “wherefore art thou Romeo”-style communication will help you expand how you give and receive messages from others. This should help you be more engaged in increasing your relationships—and more invested in your local community.AquariusDuring the Neptune North Node conjunction, you’ll feel a swell of emotions surrounding your personal values and financial state. You might find that you have blurry financial boundaries that need to be revisited or that your fluctuating self-worth keeps you in a cycle of disillusionment. Use your intuition to guide financial decisions while investing in what brings value to your life. It will be beneficial for you to explore your core values and redefine what truly brings you a sense of security and value.PiscesThis transit is bringing in many identity shifts, which may leave you confused about your self-image and inspire you to be more self-reliant. You’ll be sensitive to how people receive your energy, so lead with what you hope will follow. The Neptune North Node conjunction is another one of the many spiritual awakenings that will help you embrace individuality and prioritize your growth. Source link

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norajworld · 4 months ago

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chilimili212 · 4 months ago

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arizonaconservativegal · 3 years ago

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Ok humor me. What are some of your reasons to "not be thrilled about" Elon owning Twitter now?

I want to stress how much I don't actually care because I don't like Twitter anyway and generally am of the opinion that nothing could possibly make the site worse, and I'll admit to bit of schadenfreude here because I dislike most Twitter users and most of them would gladly see me imprisoned for wrongthink.... but if I put all that aside for a minute, I can see a few reasons why I might be a little worried if this were happening to site like tumblr that I actually do like:

Possible changes to the algorithm that aren't necessarily political - perhaps a greater focus on paid advertising, or higher priority given to certain people in the feed, or even more focus on algorithm driven traffic instead of what's left of their limited chronologically ordered posts

Similarly, concerns that flashy looks and short term profitability will be prioritized over functionality and usability - have you ever tried to repair a Tesla?

I could maybe see some folks being worried that their tweets might start getting censored, though I doubt it will happen

Elon is a troll and I can absolutely see him pulling tumblr style pranks on Twitter users, but Twitter users don't have a sense of humor so I don't think they'll appreciate it much

In my personal opinion, Elon seems to have a short attention span when it comes to his business ventures, so I could certainly see a fear that Twitter will be left to deteriorate when something new and shiny eventually catches his attention

If he's the only person who owns it, he could theoretically shut the whole thing down overnight. I don't think he will, even if I think he should, but I can see how that would scare Twitter users

And though I think it is extremely hypocritical for the left to bring it up now, I do have some reservations about a single individual owning and controlling what has essentially become the new town square. Having a very limited group of people in control of mass media has certainly done terrible things for this country.

All that said, I really don't think a whole lot is going to change over there. People will panic for a few days or weeks, but eventually they'll settle back into their normal mutually antagonistic relationship with both Twitter as a platform and with Elon himself. Maybe a few accounts will get reinstated, perhaps there will be a tiny bit less censorship. But most of the people threatening to leave won't and the site will continue to be a godforsaken hellhole. And in a few years, we'll all look back on this and just laugh about that time the blue checks worked themselves into a tizzy over nothing.

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thetriggeredhappy · 4 years ago

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yo whats good @engiespyweek this is a day late but like dont worry abt it

day 2: hurt / comfort

(warnings for injury, specifically from burns. takes place around Robots Time)

Back before the robots, they were expected to work regular hours. Normal days. Practically a nine-to-five, plus a couple of hours most days, but never too long after sundown—and unless they had a mission off-base, they’d get weekends off. It was the most organized war any of them had ever been a part of, to be honest. And it was taxing, sure, the pain and bloodshed, but at least according to Scout it still beat working in food service.

And it wasn’t even all that scary half the time—before the robots, the team was invincible in most senses of the word. It would take some extremely particular situations to kill them, situations they were rarely anywhere near. A doctor on staff, bars in town and a full liquor cabinet on base, a pay grade that few of them even dreamed of, it was a good place to be in their lives. They considered themselves lucky, most days.

But that was before the robots.

The sun was setting over wherever the hell they were. They were going on their second day here, which was usually about how long they spent in one place before they had to move again, following some fickle change of the wind to intercept the next few waves of automatons.

They were exhausted. They didn’t have breaks, truth be told, and only sometimes got to sleep—mostly on the drive to their next destination, sometimes woken up during the night by the distant metallic clanging that functioned as the trumpets of war. Modern era, and all.

Medic was truly running on his last legs. He half operated his infirmary out of the back of one of the trucks they used to transport their equipment, not seeing reason to bother unpacking most days. Soldier was in a tizzy himself, constantly checking and rechecking their supplies, inventory being the only job left out of the multitude he’d had on base before and therefore being one he did near-constantly, and his consensus seemed to be that they were running low on... well, everything. Raiding abandoned warehouses for ammunition and guns just wasn’t cutting it anymore. They’d started to send some of the mercs out hunting for scrap metal when they had the time, and the Engineer was left to work practically around the clock trying to feed it to dispensers and restock to have at least enough to be prepared for battle, and Heavy tended to take over when he absolutely needed to sleep.

But then there were the mercenaries who didn’t have much to do but sit and stew. Sniper mostly took to perching alone somewhere he could watch for the distant dust clouds kicked up by the tanks. Scout ran laps around the perimeter of wherever they were posted up, and on a couple of occasions the two of them were the only warning the team got before the robots showed up. Pyro fretted, for the most part, would sweep by the busy members of the team with something to eat and a supportive pat on the arm. But even then, it was obvious the rest were going stir-crazy. Wanted to help, to take some of the weight back, to help share the load if they could.

This was about the only way Spy could help.

Engineer was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but the fatigue fought against his need to eat the tin full of... something. Meat, some kind of sauce. Spy had cooked it, since they apparently had a stove squirreled away somewhere in this particular warehouse, rations, and the team needed something ‘real’ to eat by his measure. The Engineer managed to keep awake, keep shoveling food into his mouth. Distantly, he understood that it tasted very good, and it overcame the nausea he’d been increasingly plagued with ever since all of this started.

The food was one comfort. The warm weight of Spy leaned against his back was another, the man leaned against him as he ate. Outside there was a particularly vibrant sunset happening, that was a third one, the way the light poured through the window briefly driving away a sort of bone-deep paranoia about darkness. About fear. Apparently that was one reason his father always tried to work with the big garage door of the shop open—being in the sun from time to time was important for all types of health. Or, as Spy put it, he needed to get out of his terrible little machinery lair from time to time or else one day the team would find he’d begun transforming into some sort of mole man.

It made him laugh. He missed laughing, he realized.

Once he had some food in his system, some calm, some time to sit in a position other than bent over a drafting table—and, hell, maybe the sun helped too—he started feeling remarkably more like a human being, started relaxing in increments. Started noticing little things. Dust mites lingering in the last light up above their heads. Distant talking, the distinctive laugh of Demo, Soldier barking something in reply. The sound of Spy taking a pull from his cigarette, quiet enough that he’d only really hear it this close. Quiet motion, like fiddling almost, which struck him as odd. Spy wasn’t much for fiddling and fidgeting. Broad, sweeping, dramatic gestures, those he did every time he got a good excuse—but not fidgeting. It was enough to draw his head up from where it was hanging, casting eyes back over his shoulder.

Spy wasn’t looking at him, apparently focused. “What’re you up to, there?” he asked, suddenly made aware of how rough his throat was. Probably from the near-constant full-volume shouting followed by stretches of silence he got up to these days.

“Simple first aid,” Spy said entirely too casually. So casually, in fact, that it took the Engineer a few seconds to realize what he’d even said.

“What?” he asked, turning more fully to look at Spy, at which point he blanched.

Spy had shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up neatly a short way past his elbows and taken off his gloves and watch, and appeared to be almost done cleaning up and bandaging his left arm, having not started yet on the right one. All up and down his visible skin, and in particular across his palms and wrist, there were a series of mild to severe burns, speckles of dark red and black patching up his forearms, and the Engineer could immediately identify them as being electrical burns, not heat ones.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, deeply startled.

A huff of a laugh from Spy. “Mon ami, I go onto the battlefield and am expected to attack mechanical men with a metal blade,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Electrocution is par for the course, I’m afraid.”

“You really oughta... find some way around that,” the Engineer said carefully. “Rubber hilt, or...”

“Most often I can only even tell I’ve caused enough damage to take down any given robot when the shock happens,” Spy shrugged. “It is not terribly painful, especially compared to gunfire. They simply begin to stack up after a while.”

A careful nod from the Engineer, even if it didn’t quite sit right with him. “Want me to help treat those?” he asked, nodding at where Spy was clearly having a bit of difficulty with bandaging his wrist one-handed.

“Our medical supplies are being too regularly depleted even besides superfluous healing of minor injuries, and as much as I would appreciate a moment sat beside one of your dispensers, I’m afraid it would not be very much in the spirit of teamwork to accept your offer, Laborer. If the remainder of our dreary little group is not allowed to accost the dispenser unnecessarily, neither am I, oui?” Spy asked, tone light.

That was one thing he’d started to learn about Spy, especially as of late. Lying and stealing were things he was well acquainted with, but never for something he considered important. To get on other people’s nerves, to get information maybe, but not something important on a whim. Getting on everyone’s nerves was a different beast than intentionally sabotaging them.

“Well,” the Engineer said, still not quite feeling right about it all. “If not that, I can at least lend a hand with wrapping those up. I know a thing or two about getting shocked. Ain’t a fun predicament to be in.”

Only a moment’s hesitation before Spy shrugged, turning to face him, and the Engineer picked up the salve and bandaging and set to work.

This was more his element. Practical problems. Practical solutions. None of the overarching dread, the waiting for the next disaster, the not quite knowing what to do with himself in the miliseconds before the next chore, the next job, the next drive. Just wrapping a wound. Just fixing a problem.

Distantly, there was the sound of something clattering, Demo cheering. The sun was now out of view, and he heard the sound of lights buzzing to life across the area. The light was getting low, and cold was starting to settle into place, more than welcome after yet another sweltering desert day. The smell of hot metal and sweat faded with each breeze that passed through, leaving only the smell of chilly night air, fresh and welcome. By the time it got dim enough to start making him squint to see properly, and he started to wonder whether he should just push through or get a light from somewhere, he realized he was done.

But instead of a twitchiness, an itch to find something else, the urge to keep moving and to find the next thing he needed to work on, he just felt satisfied. Clean bandages, neat wrappings. A vast improvement over before. And when he looked up to see how Spy felt about it all, the man was smiling, just a little, just enough to see even in how dim the room was.

“...What’s the smirk about?” he asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, as if he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Spy said easily, “I suppose I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

A pause, during which the Engineer realized Spy was right. The tension was gone, the ache in his head was fading into a simple weight, and the nausea had settled into nothingness, leaving him relaxed, steady. He blinked.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” Spy said after a few moments of that stunned silence, searching his face. “It’s just that for the last several weeks you’ve been stomping around with the third most sour expression I’ve ever seen on you, and it seemed as though nobody else was going to bother stepping in any time soon. I thought that perhaps food and fresh air and polite company may remedy things somewhat, and you seemed determined to only interact with us when you deem it productive.”

“You burned yourself just to get me to sit in one place for a while?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh, no, non, these burns are truly fairly standard by now,” Spy waved off easily, carefully pulling back on his gloves and watch over the bandages, “I simply prefer to tend to them on my own, the majority of the time. Non, simply a convenient excuse to need your help.”

A pause. “Of all the ridiculous things,” he marveled, blinking at Spy.

In the darkness, he could only barely make out the way Spy’s mouth ticked up into a smirk, watching as he rolled his sleeves back down neatly and reached for his suit jacket. “Well, believe it or not, Laborer, I have been known to stoop to such lows as doing what you call ‘ridiculous things’,” he said, doing his jacket up in an easy motion in the same moment that he rose to his feet, “when I find them to be the only way I can possibly break through to ridiculous men.”

He only had time to sputter over the comment for a second before a gloved hand found his chin, tilting his head up just enough for Spy to lay a kiss soundly to either cheek, and only had time to sputter over that for a second before Spy was snickering and cloaking, a puff of smoke in his wake as he disappeared into the increasing night.

His face felt hot, and he felt that restless energy again, but for an entirely different reason than before, because he wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure cheek kissing was the sort of thing you greeted someone with when you only meant it in a friendly sort of way, and his brain was far too scrambled to remember it properly just then.

Well. Now he had something to think about besides the robots, at least. Damn shame it couldn’t be a nice, neat, practical problem, but despite his best efforts, he really couldn’t find it in him to mind.

Oh, damn it all.

#engiespyweek21 #engiespy #napoleon complex #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #here's hoping this formats right fingers cross

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ironmandeficiency · 5 years ago

Text

our love will (never) end

pairing: dogma / reader

word count: 3414

summary: all you wanted was for dogma to come back home but you don’t recognize the broken man that comes off the ship coming straight from umbara.the next time he sees you, he doesn’t recognize you either.

warnings: implied canon typical violence, angst af, umbara happened, lemme know if smth was missed

a/n: don’t say i didn’t warn y’all. no beta just me drinkin’ my dumb bitch juice

you’d spent more than half your life around the clones, had become used to their presence since your mother was recruited to train them in combat. had even helped with the youngest ones when they were fresh from their tubes, washing the fluids from them before wrapping them in their first set of clothes. the clones had become your brothers and friends, and they were much better company than the longnecks that occupied tipoca city.

once you were old enough, you joined them in their training. you learned their battle techniques, the subtle languages they spoke without uttering a word, you were one of them.

that’s why the losses sustained at the battle of geonosis, the first true test on the training they spent their lives surrounded by, wounded you so deeply.

days after the battle you were able to weasel your way into the records kept by the longnecks. it took you nearly hours to finish scanning the holo list of numbers, and only seconds for the grief to thrum through your veins, to settle into your bones. so many of your friends were lost that day, many that you had given names to, and your shoulders were aching under the weight of a loss that substantial.

then they were assigned to generals, jedi that probably wouldn’t care about who they were as men, as living beings with hearts and minds and souls that were far more different than the origins of their creation led people to believe. kamino had never been so empty as it had been once battalions were formed and assignments given, thousands of soldiers being sent to war.

the solemn emptiness took some getting used to, as did the togruta jedi sent to kamino to oversee the functioning of the cloning facility. she was kind though, and none of the clones appeared afraid of her so she was okay in your book. the one thing that you had yet to get used to was the fear you’d see in the eyes of a clone before their first assignment.

even though this is what they were raised to do, was what they were told by the longnecks was their only purpose (it was banthashit and you never hesitated to express as much), there was still a residual fear because they had seen brothers come back from the battlefield. they also knew that not all of them returned to their battalions once they left the front lines.

this knowledge was common, and there were many secrets told to you by long dead men about things that would have gotten them into trouble with immeasurable consequences. things they did to pass the time, things that made them happy like singing or writing poetry. it didn’t take you long after bonding with the clones as a young child that you realized that you were different than them, that you were lucky to be able to play and smile and be a child.

you lamented this discovery to your mother once. all she said was that the soldiers were dealt a shit hand by the galaxy and that they were lucky to have you to make it better for them. then she would tell you bedtime stories and fairy tales she knew good and well that you would relay to your identical brothers young and old.

but these days, you weren’t allowed to show the clones that kindness, that silliness that you were able to have with your brothers all those years ago. you were an adult now, and as such you would soon be expected to aid in the training of the republic’s soldiers despite a lack of actual outside world experience. you hadn’t left kamino since you arrived here as a child and had never used your training in a real-life situation.

what if you failed them? what if you taught something wrong and it resulted in their CT number being the next to show up on the lists of casualties? you were quaking with fear at the trust being placed in you.

which is why you were sitting outside during the kind of downpour kamino was known for, each raindrop heavier than your heart. no bother was given to your sopping wet state nor to the fact you’d get sick from this.

then you were joined in the rain by a familiar form.

“your immune system isn’t made to withstand this weather for very long.” some would have thought him to be uncaring, even callous and dickish with his words, but not you. this was the way he showed he cared about you — very seldom with those exact words, and never in a way where someone he didn’t want to know could see that he cared.

your eyes flitted up to his before returning their focus on the crashing waves around you. “my heart wasn’t made to withstand you leaving me.”

he sank to the ground beside you, the sound of his breathing being heard once he removes his helmet and lays it down beside his sitting form. an arm finds itself around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, a gentle kiss being placed against your rain-slick temple.

his touch warms you from your nose to the tips of your toes in spite of the cold rain pouring down. it was something he was able to do effortlessly and it never failed to bring a smile to your face. “i’m never truly gone, cyare. you’ll always be able to find me no matter where i am in the galaxy.”

a gloved hand found your shaking ones, his thumb smoothing over the top of your hand in an attempt to quell the shaking. you squeeze it in thanks and let yourself be pulled into his lap by it, your face quick to nuzzle into his neck.

“promise me you’ll be safe, dogma.”

“of course, my love.”

when he joined the five-oh-first comms were as frequent as possible, and when you weren’t able to talk to him, your eyes would be glued to the casualty reports that made their way to kamino. his number was never among the most of the dead, thank the stars, and that knowledge would sustain you until he would finally have the chance to talk to you again.

it was late into the night cycle when your private channel beeped, signifying an incoming call from dogma.

“that last mission… it was rough, cyare. i’m sorry i couldn’t comm you sooner.”

“never apologize, i know it’s not easy out there.”

dogma could never grow tired of the way you were so patient for him, for the things he did day in and day out. it made what he was about to say even harder for him.

“this next mission isn’t going to have any free time, we’re being sent planetside on umbara within two rotations. i don’t know how long the planetary takeover will last, but there won’t be a moment where we’re not unconscious or fighting. i won’t be able to talk for a while, my light. please understand.” he sounded almost in tears, like there was a lump in his throat trying to keep the words from escaping, to keep from hurting you.

you didn’t like to hear him like that. your strong and brave dogma crippled by emotion was never a comforting experience, especially when you couldn’t hold him and guide him out of the dark spaces his mind crawled into.

“never feel guilty for doing your duty, for keeping your brothers safe. just be sure you come home to me when your duty is done.”

“i’ll always come home to you, i swear it.”

the longnecks were in a tizzy three days later, rambling about a defect on the front lines. the sounds of a panicked kaminiise was not a sound you thought you’d ever hear again after what happened on christophsis. you eavesdropped plenty but you could never catch a CT number or a planet or a battalion name which infuriated you to no end. it was time to check the most recent records to see if you could find something there.

the morning cycle was minutes from beginning when you made your way to an unrestricted holoscreen where several reports were pulled up. your eyes scanned the writing; there was the familiar list of the dead, several more numbers sending waves of grief to crash against your soul.

information about how three members of the five-oh-first defied orders and flew umbaran ships in a successful attempt to destroy the separatist ship giving supplies to the enemy, and the death of one of the troopers involved in the unsanctioned air raid, one ct-6969 — hardcase. another wave crashed against your weary heart and was beginning to turn your insides into a hurricane that kamino’s oceans could only dream of rivaling.

there were details about the botched execution of two clones who defied the aforementioned direct orders from a general pong krell, ct-27-5555 and ct-5597 — fives and jesse.

pong krell wasn’t dogma’s general, wasn’t the general of the boys in blue. that was anakin skywalker and dogma spoke highly of his jedi general the few times he was brought up in conversations. pong krell, even though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the besalisk in person, knew of his reputation.

he was cruel and vicious, using the lives of those under his command as rungs on his own ladder of wartime success. many of the brothers you loved perished under his commands and his name was an eyesore.

most jarring was the depiction of how a clone shot general pong krell in the back, and how the clone’s sentence was to be decided upon once they arrived on kamino.

that meant one of three things: euthanization, reconditioning, and experimentation followed by one of the former options. none of them are by any means pleasant, but you hoped for that trooper’s sake that they were allowed peace no matter their offenses.

but now one question remained: who killed the jedi general? why was his CT number not mentioned in the files? you had to talk to dogma, to make sure he was safe, that he was finding healthy ways to grieve the loss of hardcase, to cope with everything this report says occurred on the shadow planet.

“i know you said you wouldn’t be able to talk while on umbara but i just read the reports sent to the longnecks. i’m scared and i need to hear your voice for a second, just a second, please.”

“i heard about hardcase,” you sniffled and swallowed your grief for one of your dearest friends in the name of supporting your beloved. “what him and jesse and fives did… the death of the jedi. please answer me, i need to know you’re okay.”

“you know i wouldn’t ask this of you any other time, but please give me something, tell me you’re alive! tell me you survived the carnage of pong krell!”

“dogma, answer me please! you’re scaring me!”

“ner kar’ta, please don’t make me add you to my remembrances. please, dogma, don’t make me do it…”

“dogma… ni kart’ayl darasuum.”

fitful sleep came with you clutching your commlink against your heart, tears falling like rain. there was a good chance that maybe he was mangled beyond recognition, or maybe they haven’t noticed he was missing yet. there had to be a reason dogma wasn’t on the list of the lost and why he hadn’t answered you.

then your commlink crackled you life. “who is this and how do you know dogma?”

did fate exist only to torment you? that’s what it felt like in this moment.

“i’m not answering any questions until you tell me where he is and how you found that commlink.”

logic told you that the person on the other end was indeed a clone, but your mind was too jumbled for you to recognize who it was. you had to clean up the mess your love left behind you and dogma, anything to keep him from punishment.

“the name’s fives, the comm was confiscated when we… when we had to court martial him for disobedience.”

disobedience? dogma? those words may start with the same letter but they couldn’t be more juxtaposed if the words themselves put effort into it. then your mind reminds you of details from that karking report and you suddenly feel like you had been tossed into the roaring waves below you.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!”

the arc trooper grew enraged in his grief, in the horrors of what he saw on umbara and the audacity you had to accuse him of hurting his brother. “he did it to himself! he did it to protect us all from that demagolka even though no one ordered him to! when no one had the courage to do it, not even rex!”

what did your cyare do? your heart was in denial of the ideas your brain supplied because now they were leading to the same place.

“was he the one that killed krell?”

silence.

“fives! was he the one to-“

“yes! kriff, it was him! he’s the one who did it!”

dogma remembers the besalik’s traitorous admission and the way he manipulated dogma for his own benefit, to divide his brothers enough to keep them from revealing his plan. the way he and the five-oh-first fired on their own brothers, how their own brothers fired on them. naive death caused by what dogma discovered was the blind loyalty he heard others talk about when it came to following orders.

he remembers the feeling of the bracers around his wrist as he was escorted to the laat, the nods from his brothers as they give him respect he isn’t sure he earned for killing the man who caused them so much suffering.

the only thing that his mind doesn’t bring to his attention is the commlink that was stripped from him when taken into the umbaran cell, the only means of communicating with you without taking immeasurable risk.

he’s halfway to kamino by the time his mind registers that it isn’t with him and it’s the first true fear he’s felt since he was led into the cell by his own brothers and krell revealing how he manipulated every last one of them.

his thoughts drifted to what would become of him once he returned to the planet he was born on, the planet where he met the only sunshine he had to speak of on the shadow planet that sealed his fate. he hopes to see you before he’s punished for his actions but that’s uncertain. there’s no guarantee that you’re going to know he was returning, even more so under the circumstances that he’s coming back under.

there’s one certainty dogma has through all of this: he’s going to die on kamino. but if he’s able to see you in person and hold you in his arms one last time, then he’d accept death with open arms.

the last thoughts that run through his head as he’s being pulled from the ship and into longneck custody are of talking to you only days before, when things were still okay, when there wasn’t friendly fire instigated by a traitor, when dogma hadn’t killed a jedi.

his duty was in fact done, and he was coming home, but there was no guarantee that you would be part of that home, not after what he’s done.

you fail. despite the strength of your love and determination to find him, you don’t.

in all your years of finding longneck secrets and reading their reports, there was nothing on dogma. there was no record of his presence here and it was chilling. you knew the sorts of things that could be found in reports (and they were by no means pleasant), but if even these assholes weren’t going to keep digital record of it, it must be bad.

no one even saw the arrival of the ship dogma was carried in and there was no footage from any of the docks’ security cameras. your lover was a ghost, a wisp, a memory. even the cadets that dogma had known before he deployed (slightly older now, almost ready to be sent to the front lines) seemed to forget about their ori’vod.

it was as if dogma didn’t exist outside of your own head. like he was a figment of your imagination that you would conjure when the nights got lonely. you frequently drew his v tattoo in hopes of you keeping its pattern fresh in your mind because dogma deserved to be remembered. for his sacrifice, for his loyalty, for how deep his love ran not just for his brothers and the republic, but for you.

months flew by with endless searching, digging through files and scouring the base when no one was around. it was all in vain. dogma was no more; at least, not the dogma you knew.

you had found a new normal in your life on kamino. taking up the torch of training young cadets that your mother carried before you, doing your best to ensure their survival in a war built to destroy. dogma was carried with you always, but you stopped asking others about him, resigned to keeping him in your heart like a deep secret. what little hobbies one could find on the rainy planet were indulged as you tried to refill the time you allotted to talk to your cyare before he faded from the memories of his brothers.

since obtaining your new training role, many of the clones looked to you as an authority figure and not an equal. you were a superior now, and they treated you as such. there were no words in any language that you could find that could convey how uncomfortable you were with that, not when you had grown up with so many of them, had swaddled them when they emerged from their growth tanks.

although, there was one clone whom you called a friend these days that didn’t treat you with the same rigid respect his batchmates treated you with. his name was novak; he was kind and loyal and attentive, and if you squinted under the bright fluorescent lights you could see the faintest outline of a geometric v on his face.

that had to be your imagination playing tricks, you reasoned. you’re mostly sure you had seen that same shadow on the face of every clone in the days after dogma’s supposed return to kamino. then again, nowadays you only had this thought around him and no one else.

“got my assignment,” he told you one day over breakfast. “the 327th, under general secura and commander bly.”

“i hear she’s a great jedi, novak. you’ll be in good hands.”

he nods and hums in acknowledgement around a bite of food. there’s a look on his face that tells you he’s deep in thought and for a moment you think you’re looking at a ghost, but then his eyebrow ticks up and the illusion fades.

“my squad and i, we’ll be headed to felucia. and i, uh, wanted to ask you something before you left.” his demeanor changes. before he was casual, relaxed, and you had no idea what switch flipped that now had him fidgety and with the beginnings of a stutter. “could i… could i possibly comm you while i’m there? my batchmates are gone, and i don’t really have anyone else i want to talk to. but if that’s something you’re not comfortable with then you don’t have to do anything i wouldn’t want to cross any bound-”

a finger pressed to his lips ends his rambling. “novak, i would like that a lot.”

it took two weeks.

novak spent two weeks on felucia before he and most of his squad were either killed by droids or devoured by the various flora and fauna of the jungle planet.

the trooper’s last thoughts were of you.

he had been having dreams about you for months. they were of late night conversations through holo about things he had no memory of. time spent in the kamino rains holding each other tight as if letting go would be the end of life as you knew it. the love for you that seemed to have appeared overnight. you would never know these things, and novak regretted that until his last breath.

#dogma x reader #clone trooper dogma #dogma #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #swtcw #star wars angst #this is so sad #angst #wow this is painful #y'all thought 'homesick song' was bad #just you wait #i'm prepared to be fought

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Galactica, Chapter 65 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Chapter 65 seems like a good time to tell you that there’s nothing we love more than talking to you guys about this story! We are both on tumblr (@theartificialdane and @veronicasanders) and we’d love to hear from you!! We also have other Galactica content there under the “galactica” and “galactica wardrobe” tags. XOXO!! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Bianca threw a wrench in the annual holiday party when she brought Courtney as her date, and Katya tried to (not) deal with her surprise pregnancy.

This Chapter: Miss Fame and the team work on the final lineup for the spring runway, and Katya figures some things out.

***

It was Violet’s luck that she was a light sleeper, the first note of her alarm barely ringing before she had grabbed her phone from under her pillow and turned it off.

There really wasn't a need for Violet to wake up at 6, for her to start her day so early since she couldn’t go to the gym because of her ankle, but habits were hard to break, and she liked how quiet the world was in the morning, how it felt like she was the only one awake.

She wasn’t hungover, had barely had a drink because of her crutches, but she had a feeling all of her coworkers would be wearing sunglasses and asking each other to shut up, the Friday after the Christmas party always an experience.

Sutan’s bedroom was dark, his curtains swallowing the ever present lights of Harlem, the man asleep next to her, his head resting on his pillow.

It took everything in Violet not to reach out and run her fingers through his hair.

She had been so annoyed with him last night, so uncomfortable in the beautiful red dress she had bought with his money, the simmering anger not leaving her until she had felt Sutan’s clever fingers undo the zipper on her back, skin against skin finally freeing her from the smoldering fire.

“Stop staring at me.” Violet froze, Sutan’s voice deep with sleep.

“I’m not.”

“Oh?” Sutan cracked an eye open, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out, grabbing her hip on top of her blanket. “Could have fooled me.”

“Well,” Violet smiled back, allowing him to pull her in, “Maybe I was. A little bit.”

***

As her alarm sounded, Courtney groaned, burying her head into Bianca’s neck. Bianca laughed, reaching over to hit snooze, giving them a few more precious minutes in bed before Courtney had to get up.

Bianca had never been much of a morning person, but she’d discovered that, in many ways, this was her favorite part of the day. When the world was dark and still, and they were curled together under the covers, naked and warm. She trailed her fingers up and down Courtney’s back, pressed a kiss to her temple.

“You okay, sunshine?” Bianca asked.

“Mmmhmm...I just don’t want to go to work.”

Bianca smiled, one hand settling into the curve of Courtney’s waist, enjoying the way they fit so perfectly together.

“Then don’t,” she stated, warming up to the idea of taking a day off, just the two of them. “Call in sick.”

“I wish,” Courtney scoffed, a deep sigh leaving her. “But I can’t, so…”

“Why not?”

“The day after a party? Everyone will think I have some crazy hangover.”

“Yeah, so?” Bianca laughed.

“Plus, I’m pretty sure Miss Fame is less than pleased with me right now. I don’t want to give her any reason to be annoyed. And there’s a big meeting to decide on the spring runway, and I have to-”

“Alright, alright...forget I suggested it,” Bianca said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I just really liked the idea of spending all day in bed with you.”

Courtney raised herself up on her elbow, gazing down at Bianca with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Maybe, um...can we do that tomorrow?”

“You’re on, angel,” Bianca said, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

“And...we still have about seven minutes before the alarm goes off again.” Courtney brushed her lips against Bianca’s neck, murmuring, “You wanna go back to sleep, or…?”

“Hmmm...” Bianca cocked her head, pretending to think. “I may have some other ideas…”

Courtney let out a delighted squeal as Bianca flipped her onto her back with a wicked grin.

***

Maxwell groaned as a loud clatter sounded through the design floor.

“Sorry!” Kiara whisper-shouted, quickly picking up the pair of scissors she had dropped. Trixie had gone to the department head meeting about 20 minutes ago, which meant that everyone had given up the pretense that they were working. Alexis had gone straight for the couch to take a nap as soon as the door had closed behind him, April still nursing a terrible-looking green smoothie at her desk. “Sorry everyone!”

“Don’t even think about it girl!” Bob smiled, his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, and Maxwell groaned again, sliding down so he could rest his head on his arms, Bob chatting away.

He loved his boyfriend, he really did, but there were few things more annoying than when Bob had managed to get into any tabloid, the perceived fame of it always going directly to his head. And of course, it was made even worse by his friends and family back home in Georgia playing right into it, acting as if it meant anything at all.

“Listen, I didn’t ask to be born fabulous, but it’s my cross to bear, and I’m-” Bob laughed, adding, “Exactly!”

“He’s really getting into it, huh?” Maxwell looked up to see Violet standing next to his desk, looking over at Bob, Jovan at her side holding three cups of coffee.

“Here,” Jovan smiled, giving one of them to Maxwell, the scent filling his nose.

“Oh god I love you,” Maxwell grinned, taking the liquid magic. It was probably not healthy to be on his third cup already, but he didn’t care.

“Love you too boo,” Jovan grinned, taking a seat on the edge of his desk, Violet doing the same, balancing her crutch so she could take her own cup. They didn’t talk, and Maxwell loved that, Violet fitting so nicely into their little boys club that he barely even thought about the fact that she was a girl and straight most days.

***

“Pearl! Pay attention!”

Pearl snapped out of it, the wheels of her chair squeaking as she moved, her eyes wide open at the commanding tone in Fame’s voice.

“Sorry!” Pearl sat up straight, Bendela hiding a snicker behind a sketchbook, her brown eyes clearly filled with delight over Pearl getting reprimanded.

“God,” Fame rolled her eyes, her hand on her hip, her outfit of the day a white cropped cashmere sweater and white linen high waisted pants, her blonde hair in a high delicate updo, a golden belt snug around her waist. “Did anyone come to work today?”

If they had been alone, Pearl would have opened her mouth to point out that she was the one who always arranged for the Christmas party to be on a Thursday, but they weren’t, so Pearl kept her mouth shut.

“Fame,” Raja’s voice was warm, and it apparently functioned just as intended, her tone a soothing balm on whatever had Fame into such a tizzy. “We’re almost done.”

If Pearl had to make an educated guess, she’d say it was probably the whole Courtney and Bianca thing, though it could be anything from her breakfast grapefruit not being ripe to morning traffic to a photographer catching a bad angle of her last night.

“You’re right,” Fame sat back down, sliding her chair over to Trixie. “So, fourth look. What do you have?”

“I was thinking about these pants?” Trixie held out a sketch, and Pearl folded her hands over her stomach, watching her best friend do his job exceptionally well.

Fame tapped her fingers against the table, french tips hitting the wood and Pearl made a mental note to see if she could sneak in a visit to Fame’s office, providing their boss with an orgasm before lunch a great Christmas gift to everyone in the company.

***

V-List Alert: BDR’s Latest Blonde Bombshell

[Pictured: A large photo of Bianca and Courtney kissing on the red carpet, along with a few smaller shots of them looking giggly and affectionate. And lastly, a grainy, low-res photo of them on the street after the event, kissing while a driver is opening the car door.]

Well, well, well…

Okay, so to begin with, let’s all admit that BDR showing up on a red carpet with some sweet young thing is nothing new. In fact, it would be strange if she didn’t. But the shameless PDA last night at Galactica’s annual Christmas party—both on and off the carpet—had us wondering...who the hell is the new paramour?

We did a bit of digging and strap in kids, cause it gets juicy…

Turns out that this little darling is named Courtney Jenek. Sound familiar? No? Yeah it shouldn’t. But she happens to have two very interesting connections to BDR: 1, apparently she’s friends with B’s baby sister, princess of the underground punk scene Adore Delano. And 2, even more hilariously, Lil Courtney here is the Executive Assistant to none other than Miss Fame of Galactica.

Wonder what the illustrious and brand-conscious Miss Fame thinks of her bestie using her staff in what appears to be an extremely filthy unprofessional way? And how’s it all gonna play out?

We can’t wait to watch this drama unfold…

***

As Courtney slipped on her coat and grabbed her bag to head downstairs for yet another coffee run, she glanced at her personal phone, laughing to herself when she saw the 17 missed calls from Morgan. She scrolled through the text messages in the elevator.

MORGAN: COURTNEYYYYYYYY!!!

MORGAN: OMG PICK UP

MORGAN: WERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL US YOU’RE FUCKING BIANCA DEL RIO?????

TYRA: She’s WHAT

ADORE: You guys didn’t know? ;)

TATIANNA: Yawn, old news :p

MORGAN: BITCH

MORGAN: COURTNEY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T PICK UP

MORGAN: COURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEYCOURTNEY

Courtney called her back, laughing some more when she picked up even before the first ring.

“You know I’m working, right?”

“I am going to murder you,” Morgan announced.

“Wow Morgan. A hate crime? I really thought more highly of you,” Courtney replied with a giggle.

“Omigod, shut up! How could you not have told me already?!”

“Well...I don’t know, I wasn’t sure what it was at first-” she said.

“It’s still fucking major!” Morgan laughed. “I guess it makes sense, though. God, you always chose the worst men.”

Courtney chuckled, nodding as she exited the elevator and headed for the coffee shop.

“So what did your parents say?”

“Uhhh...I haven’t exactly told them yet.”

“Courtney!”

“What? It’s not gonna be dramatic or anything, you know my brother’s gay.”

“Omigod, Court, you absolute idiot. You have to-”

“One sec.” Courtney lowered her phone to give the orders for the meeting, then went back to the phone. “Sorry, I’m on a coffee run.”

“Yeah, I heard. Listen, Courtney, you have to tell them! Do you really want them to find out that you’re dating a woman who’s almost twice your age from a fucking tabloid?”

“I don’t think my parents subscribe to American fashion blogs.”

“Did you even read the link I sent you?! Someone’s gonna send it to them, trust me.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell them,” Courtney told her with an eye roll. She really didn’t see the big deal though; telling her parents was the last thing on her list of worries at the moment.

“Also…” Morgan’s voice lowered, taking on a sing-song, teasing tone now that the business was out of the way, “When are we hanging out? ‘Cause you know I absolutely need all the sordid details.”

“Soon, I promise.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“I’m kind of busy tomorrow,” Courtney admitted.

“Busy getting railed, you mean?”

“Maybe…”

“Ha, you slag.”

***

Maybe she was avoiding going home. That was certainly possible. But on Friday, Katya just seemed to keep finding things to do to prepare for the next week of school. It would be their last week before winter break, so she knew that any kind of serious learning would be difficult. Rather than spend her time fighting with the kids to focus when they just weren’t capable of it, she planned as many fun projects as possible, and though a lot of them were old hat for her by now, the prep work never seemed to end.

Which is why, when Jasmine, the woman who ran the afterschool program, came to her door at almost 6:45, she was still there.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you…”

“It’s no bother, come on in,” Katya said, a big smile on her face, especially when she saw that Jasmine had Grace with her--one of Katya’s favorite students.

“You know we close at 6, and Grace’s mom is running late today,” Jasmine said. Her tone of voice was light and cheerful, but her eyes told Katya a different story--that this wasn’t the first time it had happened, and that she was likely furious. “I gotta get home, and Dani’s out with the flu, so...do you mind keeping her here until Leslie shows up? It should be soon, she texted me ten minutes ago that she’s on the way.”

“No problem. We’ll have a great time, won’t we Grace?”

The little girl nodded, skipping into the classroom happily.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jasmine said. “Thank you!”

Katya turned to Grace, who had dumped her jacket and backpack on the rug and was already prowling around the book bins, likely looking for her favorite Junie B. Jones stories. Soon, the two of them were settled into bean bag chairs in the comfy zone, Katya reading a few chapters out loud to her before realizing that she was probably hungry and suggesting a snack. Grace was just finishing her juice box and goldfish crackers when her young mother, Leslie, came rushing inside, harried and out of breath, apologizing profusely.

“Mama!” Grace jumped up from her seat at the little table, knocking the chair over in her excitement to leap into her mom’s arms. She hugged her tightly, face buried in her neck, and Katya could see some of the tension in Leslie’s face melt away.

Katya stood up from her own seat, picking up the book they’d been reading.

“I’m gonna put this book in Grace’s backpack so that you can finish it together this weekend,” she said, and Leslie shot her a look of pure gratitude, nodding.

“Grace, can you say thank you to Mrs. Zamo?”

“Thank you Mrs. Zamo!” she echoed cheerfully, taking the backpack and her jacket as Leslie dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

“Honey, can you go wait for me on the bench for a minute?” she asked, tugging gently on one of her pigtails.

“Okay!”

As Grace skipped into the hallway to wait, Leslie turned to Katya, tears filling her eyes.

“I’m really so sorry about being late, I-”

“It’s okay,” Katya said, head tilted sympathetically. “I get it, things happen.”

“It’s been happening all week. I got this new job, and the hours are so tough and the commute is shit, but it’s an extra two dollars an hour and I can’t say no to that. But I just feel like...I feel like I can’t do anything right.”

“I understand,” Katya nodded, putting a hand on her arm. The truth was, though, she didn’t understand. Not really. She’d never been in a position where an extra two dollars an hour would make such a big difference in her life--not even when her dad cut her off. She’d always had money, and by the time her trust fund was depleted, she was living with Trixie, whose generous salary more than covered what they needed, her meager teacher’s salary mostly paying for fun extras, keeping them entertained and living their best lives, or just going in the bank.

She knew she was lucky, but until that moment, seeing the pain in Leslie’s eyes, the fear that she was failing at life and failing her child, maybe she didn’t understand just how lucky.

“I was sitting on the bus thinking about her waiting and waiting, wondering where I was.”

“Can I tell you something?” she asked softly. “Grace didn’t care that you were late, she was just happy to see you when you got here, because it’s really obvious what a good mom you are.”

“Sometimes I feel like the worst mom ever,” Leslie admitted, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“No way. Grace is an amazing kid. She’s smart and kind and enthusiastic--and it’s totally okay if you need some more help. That’s what all of us are here for. I can talk to Jasmine about maybe extending the hours next week, until you can get your schedule sorted. Or maybe Grace can go home with Joey’s mom...don’t you all live in the same building?”

Leslie nodded, a deep sigh leaving her. “Thanks, that’s a good idea. I...I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. Just remember that you’re not in this alone, you know?” Katya handed over a box of tissues from her desk.

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, I-” Leslie wiped her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry,” Katya said, giving her a warm hug.

***

“Oh god!” Gigi groaned, pushing the door to the modeling apartment open, her shoulders aching, her fingertips numb. “Finally!” She dumped her bags down in the hallway, slumping against the wall.

She had been around the town with Sutan all day, shopping for what he called a model wardrobe, Gigi trying on several pairs of heels and flats, her new backpack and purse stuffed with a newly printed book and her brand new phone, their last stop of the day Gigi’s new gym that was just around the corner.

“Gigi?” Bimini popped her head out of the kitchen door, the golden rim around her eyes and her crimped hair clear indicators that meant she had been shooting, Bimini rarely bothering with removing hair and makeup on set. “Welcome home sweetie! How did it go?”

“I’m exhausted!” Gigi pushed out from the wall and kicked her sneakers off. “Who knew shopping could be that hard?”

Gigi heard Symone giggle, her friend sitting at the table and painting her nails, the apartment's newest arrival chopping vegetables for whatever vegan crock pot Bimini was cooking for everyone. They had someone new arrive every couple of days, most girls only staying for a night or two in the bunk beds in what Naomi had dubbed the summer camp room before they were shipped off again if they didn’t interest any of the agents.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“I know,” Gigi groaned, dumping down in a chair to rest her aching feet, “but I thought you were kidding.” Symone had gone on the trip two weeks ago, her Instagram exploding with content now that she had a brand new phone to post with.

“Did he give you the drink speech too?”

She had eaten lunch with Sutan at an awkwardly fancy restaurant, three sets of cutlery surrounding her plate, her manager going through each set as well as her wine glasses, explaining it to her. Gigi’s mom had always insisted on good manners, but it hadn’t been anything like that.

“The ‘never leave your drink unattended’ one, I mean.”

“Mmh,” Gigi nodded. “The whole entire speech.”

She hoped it’d be unnecessary, but Sutan had run her through what he called the basic safety procedures like putting a hand or a napkin over her glass when she wasn’t paying attention, her manager drilling it into her skull that she shouldn’t accept poured drinks or opened bottles from strangers in clubs unless she saw the bartender prepare it.

“Is he seriously doing all that?” Naomi raised an eyebrow. “So far, all my agent has told me is that if I showed up in any tabloid looking messy, he’d drop my ass.”

Suddenly, Sutan’s mothering didn’t feel as smothering, the attention and assistance the man had poured over her nothing compared to the terrifying thought of being left basically on her own like Naomi.

***

At first, Katya wasn’t sure why she stopped at Macy’s on the way home. Especially now, on a Friday night during the holiday season, when the sales clerks were at their most frazzled.

She wandered around, unable to get Grace and Leslie out of her mind...and in particular, the look of pure joy on Grace’s face when her mother appeared in the doorway. Leslie was a single mom, and by the look of her, she was pretty young, but she had managed to raise an exceptional kid who was sure how much she was loved.

Why was Katya so afraid of having a baby? It was like she’d told Leslie--she wouldn’t be doing it alone. Not by a long shot. No, she was fortunate to have the most wonderful man in the universe by her side. And lord knew, Trixie would make up for any maternal instincts she may lack herself. And plenty of people, people much less capable and loving than her, had babies every day.

She stopped, looking around, realizing that she’d found herself in the baby department. Specifically, in front of a shelf full of tiny little infant shoes. She smiled to herself, knowing exactly what she needed.

When she arrived home, she was thrilled to see that Trixie had prepared dinner, heating up some leftover chicken and mashed potatoes and throwing together a salad--exactly what she was in the mood for.

She smiled when she saw him, announcing, “I brought you a present.”

Trixie’s face lit up, and for a split second she could imagine that exact same expression of joy on a tiny child, the thought making her insides warm as she handed him the little bag.

He looked inside, where the two tiny pink moccasin slippers sat in their plastic box, his head then snapping up to look at her with an expression of amazement.

“Kat, are you-” His eyes were bright with tears, hopeful but still a bit tentative.

She shrugged slightly, self-consciously, afraid to say what she’s been thinking out loud, but Trixie seemed to know anyway.

He rushed forward and swept her up into the biggest, tightest hug she’d ever had, repeating over and over how wonderful she was going to be. She took his face in her hands, kissing his tear-stained cheeks, finally sure that as a team, they could do it.

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gukyi · 5 years ago

Text

for you, anything (post-script) | ksj

summary: in the midst of all of the coworker chaos over your newfound relationship, you and seokjin make a deal.

{established relationship!au, friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff word count: 2k warnings: bts being annoying coworkers a/n: shoutout to @aurawatercolor for being so wonderful and for commissioning this drabble’s monster predecessor: for you, anything!! thank you for being so patient with me and overall being a good friend of mine. much love!

Here

“Back off, he’s mine!” You shriek, furiously mashing your keyboard buttons as your eyes zero in on your computer screen. Maintaining as much of a grip onto your mouse and keyboard as possible, you push your office chair towards Seokjin’s in a desperate attempt to get him to lose his hold by crashing into him, bumper-car style. You hear the scratchy fabric collide, a soft thud that ricochets you forward, almost like you had crashed into a fuzzy rock.

Naturally peeved, you turn around to find your boyfriend completely unbothered, having moved barely an inch. And yeah, you weren’t great at Physics when you took it in high school, but you have a feeling that that’s not how Newton’s Third Law works.

Unfortunately for you, the split second you spend glaring at the back of Seokjin’s head means that he can go in for the killing blow, sword stabbing through the warrior king on the screen until he collapses in a pool of video game blood. The sound of a death cry and a cheer echos from your computer speakers, and you groan.

“Not again,” you say, exasperated. You toss your head back against the chair, eyes rolling upwards, just enough to make out Seokjin eyeing you, a smug expression written all over his face. “I told you I had him.”

“You just weren’t fast enough, I guess,” Seokjin says casually, bouncing out of his chair to gloat to you all up front and personal.

“You better share all of the money and rewards you got from that kill,” you demand, poking a finger against your cheek. Seokjin kisses you gladly, wrapping his arms over the chair and around you as he rocks your office chair side to side. The benefit of working together in Kingdom is that you always have backup you can trust (unlike some other MMO games, one of which rhymes with Meague of Megends), but Kingdom was designed for loot to be collected by whoever delivers the death blow, and not split evenly among all parties.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend happens to be both good at the game and willing to share all of his treasure.

“Ew, gross, PDA at three o’clock,” Jungkook says loudly, his whiny voice interrupting you and Seokjin’s lovers’ quarrel.

“Ugh, just because you guys can have a successful and empowering relationship doesn’t mean you have to rub it in all of our faces,” Taehyung adds with a huff. At least nobody’s singing playground nursery rhymes about the two of you anymore. Since when last did people actually sit in trees, anyway?

“Get a room,” Yoongi deadpans as per usual. His attitude has not changed even though the state of you and Seokjin’s relationship definitely has. You know you can always count on him to give it to you straight.

“Hey, no making out on office premises,” Namjoon says, barging into the room with his glasses tucked into the collar of his sweater, one of those pastel cream ones that dads who golf wear (though Namjoon is neither a dad nor plays golf). He’s switched to an iPad in recent weeks, which, despite being much more environmentally friendly, is still not Namjoon-friendly, and he often has to troubleshoot basic things like the functionality of the Notes app. Not to mention, his place of employment is filled with twerps who love doing things like spamming his camera roll and locking himself out of his own iPad. You think the record is three hours, but give the device to Hoseok and he’ll get it up to a couple of days with ease. “You guys agreed to that when you signed the employee handbook.”

“You always think so lowly of us, Joon,” Seokjin chides, and since he’s everybody’s best friend, he’s the only one who can get away with doing that. “We were just talking.”

“And playing Kingdom,” Yoongi pipes up, quickly switching away from his Haikyuu!!! tab.

“If there’s a rule against Kingdom in the employee handbook, you’d have to fire all of us,” you remind Namjoon pointedly. Not even Yoongi would be spared, even if he’s terrible at the game itself.

“But if you did, maybe Jungkook could finally live out his dream of being an E-sports gamer,” Taehyung adds, sending Jungkook into a tizzy.

Seokjin scoffs, “He’d have to knock me and Y/N out of first and second place first, though.”

“But please don’t fire us,” Taehyung pipes up weakly.

“Nobody’s getting fired. You guys just better be doing your work,” Namjoon says. “Hey, it says that my iPad is going to be updated later tonight, do I need to do anything about that?”

Everyone groans.

“Hey, what if we got married?” Seokjin nudges you with his shoulder.

You sputter out the water you had been drinking all over your desk. “Married?” It dawns on you that shouting out that word in an office filled with nosy coworkers may not be the brightest idea.

“You guys are getting married?” Taehyung shrieks excitedly. “Oh my God, I call being best man!”

“You don’t get to make that decision, idiot!” Jungkook shouts. “Besides, Seokjin would totally pick me over you anyway.”

“Who says?”

“Guys, we’re not getting married,” Seokjin says before the whole office breaks out into a brawl. Taehyung’s expression falls, sinking back into his chair, defeated. Yoongi had even quirked up for a moment before immediately turning back to his anime. “At least, in real life, we’re not.”

“Oh, you meant in-game?” You ask, the realization dawning on you. You notice everyone in the office eyeing you and Seokjin. Glaring at each and every person, you say, “He meant in-game, mind your own beeswax, you nosy freaks.”

“Obviously,” Seokjin says with a roll of his eyes. “I love you, Y/N, but seeing as how we started dating three months ago, I think that marriage is pushing it. But in Kingdom, yeah, why not? We’ll get a lot of buffs from being married.”

Seokjin’s got a point. Being married in Kingdom means that the two of you will share wealth, property, and have the option of combining special powers during battles. It also means that the game will split boss and player rewards evenly amongst the two of you without you having to do it manually. Besides, isn’t it only right for the top two players in the game to get married? Assert their dominance? Remind Jungkook that he’ll never be an E-sports gamer for Kingdom?

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, easily convinced. Besides, Seokjin could ask you to hand over all of your coins in the game, leaving you penniless, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash. “We can do it later tonight.”

“My place? We can order takeout.”

“Only if we can get some cheesecake as well,” you say.

“Done.”

Seokjin plants another kiss onto your lips before returning to his own desk, your office chairs facing away from each other as you get back to work, the promise of a nice meal and some quality time together keeping you motivated.

Out of the blue, you say, “I would have said yes, you know.”

“To what?” Seokjin asks, not even turning around.

“To asking if we could get married,” you tell him. He rounds on you, eyes wide. “I would have said yes.”

Seokjin seems frozen in place before he caves, body relaxing as his entire face begins to glow, red and orange and pink. “Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll ask again later, and if your answer is still the same, then we can.”

“How much later?” You ask. You don’t like to be kept waiting. Especially since the both of you know that your answer almost definitely won’t falter.

Seokjin grins. “You’ll see.”

There

“I never liked fancy dresses,” you comment, pulling at the collar of the white dress lacing your features, hugging your body like a bedsheet. It’s scratchy and uncomfortable and restricting, making you feel like you can’t eat a single apple without popping open. There’s a veil with a train the size of the castle behind you, and the tiara on your head is so heavy and sharp that ti feels as though you’re about to topple. All this for a wedding?

“Good thing you’ll never have to wear one again after this, right?” Jin whispers back, the two of you facing the officiant before you as a crowd of onlookers watches the two of you.

“Is that a promise?” You ask. “We’re making a lot of promises today, aren’t we?”

“And I will keep every single one of them with honor,” Jin says dramatically. It almost makes you reach out to punch him in the shoulder, but you don’t for the sake of publicity, hands wrapped tightly around the bouquet, filled with roses and tulips and carnations. You can’t believe you’re saying this, but you think you prefer your knight’s garb. At least it comes with flat boots.

You even tune out what the officiant is saying, an old, monotonous advisor who oversees all military weddings, waiting boredly until you are prompted to respond. Time usually goes by rather quickly in the Kingdom, whether you are strolling through the market or on the battlefield, but here, it feels as though it’s taking forever and a day. Discreetly, you turn to look at Jin, who notices your gaze and rolls his eyes, just to make you laugh. At least the both of you feel the same about this whole thing. You wish there were an easier way to do this, perhaps just going to a courthouse and signing some papers and making a vow or two. Does the entire kingdom have to watch?

“Do you promise to uphold these values, Jin?” The officiant asks.

“I do,” Jin says.

“Do you promise to uphold these values, Y/N?”

Relieved that it’s finally coming to an end, you nod. “I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

Immediately, Jin turns to you, reaching an arm out to hold onto your waist as he pulls you towards him, your faces pressed up against each other, breaths hitting each others’ skin.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he whispers softly.

“Then don’t hold back,” you challenge.

In one fell swoop, Jin presses a kiss on your lips, soft and warm and gentle. It’s filled with more promises than the officiant could even dream of making, filled with more vows than any wedding ceremony could produce. What this is is more than a silly pledge, a matrimonial technicality. It is an oath. To protect each other. To care for each other. To love each other.

And you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that for the rest of time, until the sun collapses and the moon vanishes, that you will.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget i’m still taking commissions!

#seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin scenario #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin fic #bts fic #bts au #seokjin imagine #jin imagine #bts imagine #w: for you anything

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blainesebastian · 5 years ago

Note

if you haven’t already written a fic about Sebastian picking up blaine while he’s curled up in a ball to the bedroom and peppering his face with kisses please please do with cherry on top! (Also i dont know if I explained myself well but I hope you got the point lol )

yessss, i hope you don’t mind but it’s not as ANGSTY as i’m usually capable of lol *u* enjoy xoxo love you!

Sebastian hates having a busy work schedule but it pays the bills. It’s not that Blaine doesn’t understand, they both have high demanding jobs—time, effort, responsibilities, all keeping their New York life patched firmly together. They make it work, communication is key, something Blaine severely lacked in his last relationship (and well, effort, in Sebastian’s honest opinion). Talking through a lot of things helps, especially when hours run late and emotions run high.

Blaine’s theater schedule can sometimes be unpredictable and Sebastian’s law firm pulls him in when he least expects it (and usually at ridiculous hours) but the money and experiences have been good, so neither of them really complain. Blaine does admit one morning in a rush to eat breakfast and leave before eight that he misses him and Sebastian leans up from the counter and makes sure to kiss him. Because he misses him too and he hates that their erratic calendars cause early mornings and late nights.

Blaine presses him against the kitchen table to kiss him back, arms wound around his neck, mouths moving greedily like this might be the last intimate embrace that they share. They accidently knock piles of mail and fruit to the floor and end up leaving the apartment at 9:30—but it’s completely worth it.

No one ever told them that this was going to be easy, that balancing life, work, and a relationship wouldn’t have its challenges. But that’s okay, because they’re going at it together and Sebastian thinks that’s what really makes the difference.

Regardless, Sebastian feels bad when he can’t promise his presence at things Blaine puts together—like he’s throwing this small, congratulatory mixer at their apartment for the part he’s recently gotten on Broadway. Him and Blaine already celebrated privately but this is more so Blaine can invite his friends and theater people. Not an incredibly big deal but of course, Blaine wants him to be there.

And he would be—if it weren’t for this one case burying him alive with paperwork. He’d actually rather be anywhere else than stuck in his office in lower Manhattan, especially when there’s a party going on at his place. He can picture Blaine dancing in the living room, drinking a little too much so that his cheeks have that soft shade rose color Sebastian likes so much, eyes a liquid honey because he’s happy. Sebastian’s been getting a few pictures and texts over the development of the night but he also knows Blaine isn’t sending too many because he doesn’t want to be a distraction.

Sebastian calls him anyways when he has a small break, just to hear his boyfriend’s voice which has a slightly high-pitched excitement when he picks up. “Sebastian!”

The taller chuckles lightly, running a hand through the front part of his hair. He can hear gentle noises filtering in from behind Blaine—the soft cluster of beats in music and general chatter. “Hi, B. Are you having a good time?”

Blaine grins into the phone, Sebastian can picture it when he talks, “I’m having the best time.”

“I can tell.” He smirks a little; he’s not drunk yet but certainly on his way.

“Are you coming home soon?”

Sebastian lets out a soft sigh before shaking his head, “No, I’m sorry. I won’t be home until late. Trust me, I’d much rather be with you.”

Blaine hums a little and there’s some shifting on his end—if Sebastian had to guess, he probably slipped into the bedroom to continue their conversation and is sprawled out on their bed. “I’d much rather you be with me too,” He drawls out, “I’m very cuddly right now.”

Sebastian laughs a little, leaning back against his chair and drums his pen on his desk. “Oh, are you?”

Blaine hums in confirmation, “So sorry you’ll be missing it.”

Sebastian leans up to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, glancing down at the paperwork he still has yet to complete. “You won’t be just as snuggly when I get home?”

There’s a long series of gentle noises from Blaine, like he started to agree with a sound but then ended up humming along to the song currently on in the living room. “Mayyyyyyybe, guess we’ll have to see, huh.”

Sebastian smiles, “I love you, go drink some water okay?”

Ironically, Blaine’s a pretty high-functioning drunk. He knows when he needs to drink water in-between alcohol. Sebastian’s seen him come home, practically tripping over his own feet and still able to floss and brush his teeth before tumbling into bed.

It’s rather impressive.

“I love you more.” And Blaine hangs up without another word—most likely because he didn’t want Sebastian to try and convince him that he was wrong about who loved the other more. Spinning his boyfriend into a tizzy while he’s tipsy and on the phone probably won’t be as entertaining anyways.

So Sebastian concentrates on getting his work done so he can go home to him.

By the time Sebastian makes his way into the apartment complex and unlocks their front door, it’s going on two AM. Definitely not the time he wanted to be home but there’s not much he could do about it—he did manage to put in a personal day for tomorrow (technically today) so at least he can settle in.

He turns the light on in the living room and glances around to survey the damage—it’s actually not as bad as he thought. Some wine glasses and dishes left about in the dining room and kitchen but nothing seems destroyed.

Blaine, as drunk as he can get, is still a neat freak. He was probably stumbling around in an attempt to clean despite the fact that he should have been concentrating on having a good time and worrying about all that tomorrow.

He sighs and takes off his coat and shoes, setting them near the couch before making his way into the bedroom—to find Blaine curled up on the floor near the closet. A soft, sudden chuckle leaves his lips because he’s half undressed and their dalmatian, Fitzgerald, is lying against Blaine’s back. His ears perk when he ears Sebastian, sitting up and beginning to wag his tail as his other owner steps closer.

He smirks a little and crouches down, petting the dog between his ears. “C’mon.” He motions for him to scoot and the dog gets up only to jump onto the bed but at least he’s out of the way.

Sebastian smiles, shaking his head as he reaches for the shirt Blaine seems stuck in, one arm in and the other out, and tugs it over his head. His boyfriend makes a soft moaning noise, turning into the touch. The taller’s pretty sure he’s not going to be able to get him out of his jeans, not down here anyways, so he maneuvers Blaine’s body until he can pick him up bridal style.

Blaine’s head falls to his shoulder, a soft pinch between his eyebrows at being moved and Sebastian instantly smooths that away by planting a bunch of soft kisses on his face. Blaine relaxes, especially when Sebastian lays him down in bed. It’s much easier to undo his jeans and tug them off, deciding his boyfriend can sleep in just his briefs for the night.

Sebastian runs his fingers through his messy curls, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth when Blaine just barely blinks awake. “You’re home.” He croaks out.

The taller hums, “Yeah, I’m getting into bed soon. You gonna be sick?”

Blaine shakes his head and presses his face into his pillow, a gentle whining noise following. Sebastian, at this point, knows that means turn off the light and come here. He rolls his eyes but follows the request, moving around in the dark to get ready for bed. He strips down to his boxers and white t-shirt, brushing his teeth and shifting the dog down to a spot by Blaine’s feet so he can crawl into bed.

Blaine moves rather instantly, sensing the shift of weight on the mattress and Sebastian wraps his arms around him, keeping him close. He buries his nose and lips into his curls, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, and a twinge of sweat on his skin. The taller runs an open palm up and down Blaine’s spine, over and over again until he feels him drift off into sleep.

Sebastian knows that this relationship thrives on communication, on being able to be honest with one another—but he also knows that it’s built on this too—on how easy it is to come home.

#seblaine #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #glee #mccall writes things #q and a #rhandytaylah

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cullxtheherd · 5 years ago

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@oorah22 asked for: a Nick Rye centric piece!

Happy Merry JiNgLe yaAy?? here it is! I hope u like it ksdfjksjfdf- also, a song: [🆇]

Ducking under the ajar side panel to the motor of his plane, Nick blindly wipes grease laden fingers against his coveralls; they’re a worse-for-wear situation and he isn’t fussed about them anyways- he knows Kim will get the stains out if they aren’t ready to hit the bin. Taking a few steps back he tries to wrap his head around the issue he is having with Carmina: he’s flushed the lines, reseated the new carburetor and still she’d been running like a bucket of bolts.

He isn’t entirely sure what she’s up to but he sure can hear one hell of a ruckus coming from the house, even out here in the hangar. Since the Seed brothers had arrived in town things had steadily gotten worse around these parts- his hometown, to the point he’d taken to keeping a gun and small store of ammunition within reach at all times. Gripping the AR-CL he checks the safety before readying the chamber.

Rounding Kim’s vintage Mustang he takes his time, not seeing any vehicles in the horseshoe curved driveway gives him no cause for hurry. Setting the safety once he has peered through the window of his front door he leans the rifle in the seat of an adirondack chair. Nick grew up in this home, lived in Hope County all of his life and navigating the floorplan silently is one of his favorite, lesser known talents.

“It has to be here somewhere-” Pulling the drawer out under the stove she curses, “Of all the fucking- NICK!”

Kim is a strong, reliable, sensible woman, but under the stress of pregnancy and rushing, unruly hormones? She is rash and annoyed and easy to anger and hasn’t seen her feet since John-Fucking-Seed-Knows-When and she is certain that Nicholas Rye- her endearing, annoying, everloving, child of a husband has stolen away the baster.

It’s God-blasted quarter to FIVE and the guests for their tastefully modest holiday party are set to arrive soon and without a properly browned, basted, SEASONED, T U R K E Y her day will, obviously, be absolutely ruined.

“What’s-a matter darlin’?” Feeling like he knows his wife pretty well he grips the long, bulbous tool she has set out on the pop-out ledge between the kitchen and living room, “You lose something?

“I-” Ready to turn tail and give him hell she is immediately silenced, hands flying up to her lips to calm the swell of profanity she can feel bubbling up and, for the seventh time this afternoon, she wells up, sobbing into her palms.

Without a word to pass between them he relinquishes the turkey baster to the nearby countertop and rushes to embrace his wife, “You need some help or something, honey?”

“Oh, Nick, I-” She barely manages through hearty, walloping sobs.

“Shh-shh, baby it’s okay,” He can feel her trying to speak, chest heaving against his own and he drags a slow, soothing hand against the top of her partially shaven head. “Whatever it is,” He interrupts himself with his lips against the crest of her fuzzy, prickling scalp, “It don’t matter, not a lick.”

A few, brief moments of whimpering silence pass before he feels the need to say something to try and lift her spirits. “If you want I could always give that turkey a talkin’ to- a real what-for,” Although he can tell she is still upset, shoulders lightly shaking under the brace of his arms, “It’ll baste itself when I’m done, I swear it Kimmi!” The way she smacks at his chest has him chuckling, “What-” She laughs too, “No? Come on, now where’s the fun in that!”

Though she grips tightly to him, laughing as she tries to hold him back, he approaches the oven, “Now listen here, you!”

“Nick, no- don’t ope-” Kim laughs and sobs all at once; happy despite appearances.

Opening the oven door he looks the offender right in it’s asshole, “I heard you been upsettin’ my baby!” Almost too late he tacks on, “AND my wife!”

Being out in the world after seven years in a bunker is overtly surreal and, still, many months later Nick shelters his eyes from any particularly strong source of light. Foraging for food wasn’t the worst part of the apocalypse so far; Joseph God Damned Seed held tightly to that title still, somehow, after several nuclear bombs and one hell of an assassination attempt.

Notching an arrow from a set Kimi had helped him whittle down yesterday, Nick holds his breath and dispatches a silent prayer. He’d never been a bad shot with a firearm but? Hunting with a bow- depending on that skill (however meager or great) to feed not only yourself but your family, was an entire bucket of wriggling, foul worms he hated toting around. Releasing his taught lungs the arrow follows suit, hitting its target successfully.

Less than an hour later finds him roaring up the drive, a sidecar full of gutted venison jostling the spot-welded metal plating all the way to the hangar. Having developed a functional routine, Nick goes through the motions: hanging, skinning, cutting, and packing his spoils in the cleanest paper they’ve got.

A sneaking, hushed gurgle of a giggle alerts him but he doesn’t stray from his task, preferring to be assumed as unaware. It doesn’t take long for his daughter, Carmina to stalk around him and he is careful about securing his tools, a sharpened knife safely snoozing on the opposite side of his patchwork butcher's table.

When she grips on to the back of his legs he responds in a half startled, monstrous roar, “RaaaAAHH!!” And, stooping he bends, scooping her up, “Oh no buckeroo!” Hauling her onto his shoulder is becoming more difficult as she’s nearing nine years old but? He does it anyways, laughing along, “Swamp monster’s got you!”

Amidst their boisterousness he makes out a familiar tone: Kim. “Shh-shh,” His tickling fingers still, free hand poised and pointer drawn against his lips, “Quiet down, kiddo!” On the breath of a strong wind he manages to decipher what she’s yelling, “That’s your Mama callin’!” Although he isn’t mad his tone does harden into a stern reprimand, “You ain’t- you just left the house without saying nothin’ again?!”

“Daddy!” Carmina protests as he swings her down just-enough to be in view. Partially upside down she meets his gaze with a practiced pout, cheeks reddening.

“Nuh-uh, I won’t hear it- don’t give me that look, neither!” He frowns, “We’ve done talked about this, Carmina: you can’t just-” Setting her down on her own two feet, “It’s a dangerous world we are livin’ in young lady and,” Not one to entirely dampen his daughter- or anyone’s spirits he tries to rouse her lovely smile again, “As your Daddy,” Digits wriggle when he unexpectedly hikes her back up and tickles just-enough for a laugh, “It is my duty to make sure you apologize to your Mama, Ma’am.”

By the time he wrangles his squirming, squealing child out the rear door, Kim is on her way to the garage and he calls ahead into the partial darkness of the mostly-settled sun, “You lose something, darlin’?”

Although her eyes are firmly on the dark haired little girl, safe and secure over her father’s shoulder, Kim can not help herself: her nerves are fraught. “Carmina!” She hollers one last time, voice hovering between worried and a-woman-scorned.

“Sorry Mommy-”

“You could have-!” Kim wants nothing more than to elaborate and although they are mostly honest with Carmina about the state of the world, they have refrained from being gruesome or brutal about it. “Don’t do that ever again, do you hear me young lady?!”

“Makes you feel any better,” Nick nearly starts in the middle of a sentence, hurrying to interrupt the tense and uncomfortable situation, “I could always craft up a leash or somethin’-” The look his wife gives him has his lips curling when he sets his daughter down between them, “What? She’d never leave the yard again- it’s what you want!”

Despite the mixture of rage and relief ravaging every facet of her psyche Kim closes the distance between them, Carmina already a shadow haunting their crumbling dining room. “Thank you,” They both know it is more than about this moment. That she is thankful for his way with her and with their daughter; every stupid thing about him, really. “Thank you, Nick.”

“Anything for you baby,” He is smart enough to let the moment lie, a palm stroking softly against the round of her mostly shaven head. Swaying slightly in the cool, spring breeze he bends pressing his lips to the crest of her forehead. “So,” He says, unable to take it anymore, “No to that baby-chain, huh?”

Needing it too she angles her head back, looking him dead in the eye, “Just.” For effect she pauses, blowing stray strands from her vision, “Make sure she has access to fresh water.”

“Ok-okay,” Although there is a certain amount of set determination to his tone, Nick Rye falters- a scant pause in the doorway. “Let’s do this,” With a friend at his side he feels confident enough in their newly mustered camaraderie to push forward, through the side door and into the wide expanse of the living room.

“Carmina?”

Just the sound of her voice is enough to do him in entirely and he stops, just-adjacent of the door to drink her in silence.

“Do you know where my wire cutters are?” She buzzes around, in a tizzy of a search, keeping herself busy- moving and, more importantly, distracted. It’s not that she doesn’t notice the movement out of the corner of her eye, or the painfully familiar phantom behind her, she’s just? Tired. Ready for a new hallucination to be tormented with- she’s been through it all before, more than enough times.

“Kim.”

This particular poltergeist has the audacity to manifest a nice, little, aural ditty for her as well and she turns away, deepening her tried and true remedy. “I know I put them here somewhere,” Although she can clearly see they are not on top of the stacked supply crates, Kim looks anyways, fingers brushing each item to try and root herself back into reality.

Nick takes pause to apologize to his companion with a look. He isn’t a fan of anything he could possibly deem as too-uncomfortable, or soul-bearing, but this? This moment he has ached for- longing and alone; afraid. Giving another apologetic look he manages, “Hold on.”

“They were just here, where did I put them-” She cuts herself off with a dismissive and frustrated gesture, shoulders sagging in resolution. Staring down at the meagre, inconsequential items she can feel her eyes begin to burn. ‘Not now, not n o w,’ She tells herself, lips silent and clinging strongly to the image she portrays: hardened, brazen woman and an absolute warrior of a mother. Truly a force to be reckoned with.

Though he is generally a man that is embarrassed of any kind of physical displays of affection in public he reaches out, fingers gentle against her side;

Kim grips him roughly at first, unsure of her suspected delusion- could it be Rush? He’d already given her quite the salacious look over the fireside last night and she’d turned away, offended and? Blushing.

“You lose something, darlin’?”

Quick on the balls of her feet she turns, eyes searching a worn and weathered face she has prayed relentlessly for; a man she has begged every star in the sky to return safely.

His tongue fits against the basin of his mouth, voice an emotionally charged stutter, “Hey baby.” When she grips onto him he pulls her in as closely as possible, dying for the touch of her warmth.

“Hi,” She barely manages, expression crumbling under the weighty realization and arms cementing around him. Kim tries to repeat herself more certainly but her voice cracks, pronunciation silent.

“Hey, you know,” Not one to linger in his feelings he tries to make light of the situation even though he is very aware that is it not the time, “If you’re busy I can always come back-” With barely a second to breathe she regrips, tugging him in, “No?”

#far cry 5 #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #satan fills requests #okay bye im jshbndsnfdkj #been a long time since i wrote anythuing this soft im gonna go now jbhdfg

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Welp

Woke up this week to 200+ followers! Wasn’t sure how to react! I didn’t think i was going to get 5 followers on a blog just for my writing let alone this many so thank you!

So I’m giving you a small treat, it’s a “trailer” (i guess i’d call it that?) for the story after the Broken Butterfly. It’s part of the Fantasy series and the reason it’s so special is because it’s the first fantasy story i’ll do with more then two parts. it’ll be a long multichapter story that will take a while to tell but i think will be worth it? (Charmy take out the question mark)(no, bite me!) Because i still plan on writing a few fantasy shorts and other stories in the mean time. Including a Sci-fi au i think y’all will like

Anyway thank you all again! here’s my trailer (can i call it a trailer? or is it a preview?)

He couldn’t stop shaking

Not out of fear but from excitement as he hung from the thick tree branch his little hands had latched onto. The Child wiggled around before pulling themselves up with some considerable effort, having to primarily rely on his unhurt leg to swing up till he’s finally sitting on the branch with a giant grin. “I’m so high up!!” He said throwing his hands into the air excitedly, “Dad! Dad do you see!? Do you see how high up I am!?” He said to the black haired yokai standing by the tree, “I’m almost as tall as you!”

Len chuckled, “Yeah look at you kiddo” even though he had been to the one who had helped the Child reach the branch in the first place. The Child put his hands on the branch, wobbling slightly until they were in a standing position. He put his hands out for balance as he began walking down the thick branch at a snails pace. Lens’ hands hovered at his sides, ready to catch him if he fell, but the Child was having too much fun to be deterred by Lenards protectiveness, “Careful kiddo.” He said

“Can I climb higher?!” The Child asked eagerly.

Len looked up at the tall tree nervously, “Not today kiddo.” Before holding his hands out to him, “Hop over.”

The Child pouted for a moment, before carefully turning to face Len. He shifted his feet around and braced his legs before jumping over the small gap between him and Len who immediately hugged him, “Atta boy!”Lenard said smiling at him in a way that took away the Childs disappointment as he set him on his hip, “That new leg brace Mickey made you is really doing you wonders huh?”

“Yeah Yeah!” He said swinging his dubbed ‘hurty leg’ that was now carefully wrapped in a brace that his Uncle had spent almost a year perfecting. Not only was it far lighter then the one they had bought from the Healing Hut, but it allowed him to run and jump with almost no trouble. Course now Len spent most of his time chasing Him down, but to the Child that made it more fun (not the time outs that followed when He took it too far, he hated those) IT took a moment for Him to notice his Dad was giving him a big if thoughtful smile and tilted his head questingly “you’re getting so big,” Len said as a explanation using his free arm to hug him closer with his cheek resting on His temple, “I can’t believe you’re only six. You sure you ain’t really thirty? Or fifty?”

The child giggled, “No!” Before bringing his hands up squish Len’s face in his hands, causing the yokai to laugh and gently pull his hand away from his face, ‘Alright alright don’t cut your hand on my tooth.” He said, “Today is actually very special, today is when we officially start training.”

“Training?” The Child tilted his head, “Like tumbling?” He was used to that. It was fun to summersault on the soft grass.

“Not exactly, it’s a little more to it then that.” Len said kneeling down and setting Don carefully on the grass, “I want to get you started on basic fighting skills, “

The excitement the Child had felt at the thought of tumbling gave was to nervousness as he dropped his chin to his chest and poked his fingertips together, “I-I don’t wanna hurt no one though.”

“I know baby boy.” Len rubbed his scalp before cupping his sons face in his hand, using his thumb to rub the worry line between his eyes. The Child giggled lightly at the contact but kept his gaze on the ground. “You wouldn’t be learning these skills to hurt people, but to protect yourself. And you being safe is all I care about. So is that ok with you?”

The Child puffed up his cheeks in contemplation. He still din’t like the idea of hurting people, but Len was his dad, he was the one who took him in, held him when he was scared, sang to him when he was sad. If he though it was a good idea then, “Okie, cause I love you.”

Len grinned and rubbed his scalp again ,”That’s my boy.” He said, “Now stay right here ok?” Len stood up and took several steps back and pulling out a familiar wooden handle, with a spin and a flash his hookstaff appeared. “Ok kiddo, the staff is a weapon mostly used for defense. When we start again I’ll teach you some spinning exercises that will help strengthen your hands and wrists. Its one of the most versatile weapons because even if your staff breaks in battle, you can usually find a good substitute for it nearby. But my favorite thing about using a staff is that it’s a great way to fight people off without leaving long lasting damage.” He puts the staff in a wide hold, with both hands at atleast, he shuffles his left leg forward, thrusting the opposite end of the staff forward, “See?” Len asks, “This is a basic strike, even if you get to my level this is what you’ll be using if your’e ever in a fight.” Before taking his other step forward and bringing the other end with a thrust and a shout

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

A scream of terror coupled with a earth trembling thunder snaps Him back to reality. Half his vision is stolen by a a mixture of darkness, a icy downpour that seems content on bruising the hell out of him and a heavy fog that takes him a moment to realize is his own breath. A moment later pain shoots through is stomach with enough force to double him over, wrapping his free arm around it as though trying to protect it from a invisible force. Its only by plunging the object in his hand into the ground and leaning on it that he keeps from falling over completely. Desperate to offer his aching body some semblance of support.

His vision finally starts to clear up and he realizes the staff holding him up is unfamiliar. It is far heavier and metal and has a barbed wire end facing forward in a c-shape. Before He can contemplate why he’s holding it, a fear filled sob reaches him and reality comes rushing back in a unforgiving wave

The man in front of him is standing his with arms out, as though shielding the other man behind him who his also holding a small child to his chest. The man being protected has a large gash on his scalp that drenches his tattered clothes. Before He can comprehend what’s has them so scared, he finally notices the end of his weapon has the tangled remains of the mans shirt in its wire, as though it had been a second away from piercing his chest cavity.

With a choked gasp, horror overwhelms Him as he takes several steps back, “I-I’m so-i’m sorry!” his vision is filled with bright lights, blinding him again has he rubs furiously at his eyes, desperate for reason or answers.

He gets both

What had once been a humble but fair sized villages is now in ruins, buildings crushed in as though a Child had stomped through with little to no regard for the life it could of held. He can hear whimpers and cries of pain around him, the hurried footsteps of people running away from the village

No not from the village.

He looks down to the weapon he now recognizes as a sodegarami to the family still cowering in front of him before covering his mouth with his free hand

He understands.

He is horrified .

“Run!” He shouts, causing the small family to jump,” Run! Get out of here before its too late!” With the grace of frightened ants, the family scrambles to their feet and hurries away. Glancing back as though to make sure he wasn’t going to chase them down to finish them. When they’re out of sight he allows himself to give a shaky sigh of relief and lowers himself down onto his knees to offer his body a semblance of rest. Before a voice whispers by his head somehow far colder then the rain itself.

”Now now, I can’t keep having you breaking free my gargalmelly baby,”

Terror shoots through him as he spins around swinging his weapon to aim directly at the intruder. What at first simply appears to be a shadow slowly takes from as the rain parts away from it. As though natures itself is too scared to touch the queen. Judging by her wrinkled nose the Matriarch is more concerned with his appearance then to the weapon aimed at her “And just look how filthy you are now. I’ll have to tell the maids to scrub you down when we return to the castle,” The Queen looks back to the remains of the village and its devastation, “I will say this you do make quick work. But on second thought, perhaps this isn’t the place I want my vacation castle.” She gives out a pained sigh as though reflecting on all the work she put into this ‘project’ “Oh well it was far too good for the likes of those tax dodgers anyway. I”ll find something to do with it.” She says, taking a few steps forward as though there was a floor of glass blocking her perfect shoes from being dirty.

“You-“ He is only now aware of how thirsty his is as he desperately tries to wet his cracked lips. It feels as though his entire body has been deprived of everything it needed to function properly, but he glares after the Queen, “You made me attack a village of innocents just so you can have a vacation home!?” He asks

“Now now don’t get in a tizzy, I can’t have a Prince who gets so upset so easily,” She shakes her head solemnly ,”These ,after all, are criminals. They’re dirty, weak, Ugly, and don’t deserve mercy.” Big Mama looks off into the ruined village with almost a bored eye, “They had the nerve to say the latest tax increase was far too gargantuan for their little families to afford. But you know what I hate more then tax evaders?” She asks in her sickly sweet voice that makes His stomach squirm

He thinks of the family he had almost killed and screams in rage, grabbing his staff from the ground and plunging the tip into her chest. But before he can consider the consequences, theres a strike of lightning as the Matriarch herself appears in his line of vision unharmed, her now completely yellow eyes glaring out from beneath her bands as tilts her head at him, “when my Princes disappoint me.”

A scorching heat fills His brain as he cries out. The feeling shoots through his arms and legs and his causes his left up to suddenly twist up his back as he’s forced to his knees, his face in the mud blinding his vision again. He hears her step closer and her disappointed sigh

”Looks like we have our work cut on you. But until then, you have a job to do.”

Out of the corner of his eye, a darkness crawls across his vision. IT rings a terror of familiarity that makes his eyes burn before the darkness takes him completely

#()(#)\/(#)(#)

“Wake up boy.”

A strangled breath escaped Him, but the sudden reflex jerk makes pain shoot through his side in a blinding pain that makes him double over. The world has eerie white sheen to it as he struggles to fill his sting lung. The pain in his head that he h had felt previously has now spread to his eyes. He’s sitting on a chair he doesn’t recognize. There’s a cup of water in his hands that looks like he’s been drinking out of it but he can’t remember. His hand comes up to check his chest only to find it tightly bound in bandages, through his blurry vision he can see a red stain at the center that only raises more questions then answers.

“What is your name boy.”

IT is more command then question. The voice sense a shiver down His shell that he can barely hide. It doesn’t help when the chorus of laughter joins in from his ‘visitors’ shoulders. Dark eyes glare at him from underneath his gold pointed crown, expecting obedience. He is not under any illusion that Draxum is asking out of genuine concern, but rather the same concern one would have for a favorite war horse,

Draxum expects a answer

His teacher demands a answer

“O-othello.” He whispers. It’s the only answer he knows to give, but he knows it’s a lie, and that alone makes his eyes burn again, “My name is Othello.”

The Baron dips his head response, “follow Apprentice, we have a kingdom to save.” with a snap of his cloak, Draxum leaves the room. Muscle memory immediately has Othello on his feet following, his body is not the only part that just wants to lie down and give up.

His name is Prince Othello

And he is Alone

Look for

Do Not Go Gentle Into that Cold Night

#rottmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #trigger warning blood #donnie #othello #draxum #baron draxum #rottmnt fantasy au #big mama #leonard #action #adventure

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goindownshipping · 4 years ago

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Take me back to the night we met

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker)

Rating: Teen (T)

Notes: Cranked out the second and final chapter of this fun story today. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None, light angst/miscommuncation. All with a happy ending!

Word count: 3k

Summary:

What will happen when Tony and Peter leave their small town and head back to New York?

Read chapter 1 here

Read full story on AO3 here

6 weeks later

“Tony!” Natasha called.

Tony’s gaze snapped up from his desk to his red-headed assistant, immediately pulled out of whatever trance he was in this time. He shook his head rather violently and focused on Natasha’s impatient glare.

“Yeah, yep! Sorry Nat, what’s up?” he rushed.

Natasha just gaped at him, realizing she’d be repeating the last several minutes of updates about various plans she needed Tony’s approval on.

“I needed your signature on these documents, like a week ago. Now, I’m late to a meeting, so please, I beg you, look over these and I’ll pick them up from you by the end of the day.” Natasha left the room in a tizzy. Tony didn’t even have time to respond before the door was closing behind her.

He glanced down at his desk, his numerous unsent text messages mocking him in broad daylight. He couldn’t bring himself to pay any mind to the far more important documents directly in front of him; for some reason, unbeknownst to even himself, he still couldn’t manage to pull his thoughts away from one Peter Parker.

It had been over a month since he returned home from Springdale with a new number in his phone and the silliest crush he’d had since high school. For what must have been the millionth time in a month, he let his mind wander to the all-too-brief interactions with Peter that weekend. That first night in town had been just the beginning of Peter worming his way into Tony’s previously impermeable heart.

How he managed to get under Tony’s skin so quickly, Tony couldn’t possibly comprehend. Maybe it had something to do with that thing Peter did with his tongue, but in all reality, Tony knew it was much more than that. It was Peter’s ability to challenge Tony intellectually, his knack for making Tony smile more earnestly than anyone in years, his insistence that Tony didn’t owe anyone any explanations for why he left Springdale or why he now called New York home, and so much more. Peter made Tony feel seen. Any other time, and by any other person, Tony hated being seen for all that he was. But with Peter, he relished that feeling. That entire weekend in Springdale, Tony selfishly soaked up moment after moment with Peter, imagining what it would be like to feel this content with himself on a regular basis.

They danced, they flirted, they kissed, and they fell into bed together after the wedding. It was a short trip for both of them, but neither man seemed concerned with the passing of time. Whispered promises between sheets and under the stars encouraged Tony to believe that maybe this wasn’t just a passing moment for the two of them. Maybe, finally, Tony found someone that could keep up with him. Someone that wanted Tony for everything he came with.

He headed home with butterflies in his stomach, eager to see Peter again and find out what would come next for the two of them. He’d sent him a text before his plane even left the ground in Springdale, not giving himself the time to second-guess anything:

Tony: Hey Pete, it’s Tony! I’m just heading back to NYC. I hope I’ll see you soon ;)

That was more than one month ago. No response, no acknowledgement of the message, nothing. Peter had gone completely radio-silent.

At first, Tony didn’t panic. It was a busy time for Peter’s team at work, and Tony even lost himself in his work for a while. But after a couple weeks with nothing, Tony began to feel the pit in his stomach. Realization dawned on him that if Peter, millennial Peter who was always attached to his phone, hadn’t responded at that point, Tony shouldn’t expect anything.

When that realization came about, he lost the newfound pep in his step, his self-deprecation returned in full force, and he was no longer pleasant nor productive at work. Sure, he could have ventured a few floors below his office to seek out Peter, but that was crossing a line, even for Tony. it would be unprofessional and unfair to put him in that position. Instead, Tony wallowed. He pretended nothing had happened; that he hadn’t returned from his trip as a different person and then suddenly reverted back to his destructive ways.

So here he was now. The essential documents requiring his attention and signature mocked him while his phone sat open with dozens of texts he’d never managed to send to Peter. He wasn’t sure where to start or what to say. Each time he thought he was finally going to just hit send, he managed to convince himself not to.

Peter knew how to contact him. He would have if he really wanted anything to do with Tony.

Tony shook his head before tossing his phone in a random desk drawer and finally buckled down. By the end of the day he’d made it through each of the documents Nat needed him to sign, and he even managed to bring them to her office to save her the trip, and annoyance.

“Hey, Tony!” she called out before he could leave her office.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Development wanted me to remind you that they have a new StarkPhone prototype they want you to check out. I can have them leave a sample on your desk sometime this week. Does that work for you?”

“Sure, yeah. Just make sure they get my info on the phone so I can actually use it. What’s the point of testing if it’s not functional?”

Nat nodded and made a note on her computer. “Sure thing, boss. Just keep an eye out for it by Friday.”

“Thanks, Nat. I’m headed out for the day, have a good night.”

He offered a small wave before retreating down the hallway.

A few days later, Tony found a sleek new phone on his desk. He was immediately impressed by his developers and engineers. He clicked around the various applications and settings, habitually checking his messages. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t any messages from Peter, and, gratefully, it appeared that his unsent drafts must have been cleared out when his information and settings were uploaded onto this phone. He let out a long, slow breath, willing himself to see this as a way to move forward without the constant reminder of words that had gone unsaid.

Little did he know, Peter Parker woke up to his phone buzzing incessantly as dozens of text messages from an unknown number flooded his phone.

Peter was suddenly awoken by his cell phone repeatedly buzzing on his nightstand, so consistently that he couldn’t help but worry that something was seriously wrong. He snatched his phone and was shocked to find more messages than he could count flooding his notifications. All the messages were from the same unknown number. Through his sleep-blurred vision he couldn’t make much out, but the messages didn’t seem to be coherent, and some of them were incomplete thoughts. When his vision finally focused on the too-bright screen in his dark bedroom, he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Unknown Number: I’m so sorry for whatever I did between Springdale and now. I was really hoping you and I would have a chance Pete. I hope you’re doing well xx

Unknown Number: Hey Pete! I hope you got back home safely :) I’d love to grab a coffee if you have any free time in the next couple days. Lmk!

Unknown Number: For once, I thought I found someone. I just wish you’d tell me if

Peter felt his hands start to shake as he scrolled through the messages. Everything was scrambled - he had no idea when any of these were sent or in what order. It was as if the floodgates had opened and Peter had a direct glimpse into Tony’s thoughts.

Peter knew there was nothing to be done at 5:00 AM, and he really didn’t want to try to piece everything together over text. He took a deep breath resolving to attempt to talk to Tony in-person at work. Knowing there was no point in attempting to get back to sleep, Peter went about his morning routine, determined to get to the office early. If he had any hope of talking to Tony, it had to be soon.

He managed to get to work on autopilot, his thoughts never leaving the older man he’d fallen for back in Springdale. He was beyond disappointed when Tony never actually contacted him, but Peter just assumed it was par for the course with Tony Stark. What more could he have expected? Sure, it felt like they’d had a real connection, but Peter knew how different they really were. Tony owned the damn company Peter worked for! It had been a tough pill to swallow, but he’d managed to stop dwelling on it after a few weeks and some sharp words from MJ.

But now, Peter didn’t know what to think. His mind was as scrambled as these messages from Tony. Why now? Did Tony even mean to send these? Oh god, was he drunk? Did he even know what he’d done?

Peter shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he made his way up from the Subway toward the office. It was barely 7:00 AM; Peter made a silent wish that he’d be able to talk to Tony. Forgoing his own floor, Peter went straight to the executive floor, shocked that his badge was cleared when he pressed the highest button in the elevator.

The executive floor was nearly silent and most of the lights were out. Peter could see a soft glow coming from underneath the door to Tony’s office and he steeled himself as he took long steps down the corridor. Upon reaching the door, Peter took a deep breath and knocked softly.

“It’s open!” Tony called, clearly expecting anyone besides Peter.

Peter hesitantly pushed the door open, but didn’t move an inch. Tony looked up from his desk and froze. Peter could hear the breath catch in his throat and didn’t miss the slight flinch throughout his entire body.

“Um, what?” Tony blurted.

“I-”

“No. No, you don’t get to just show up here like this. After what, a month? No, Peter this isn’t fair-”

“Not fair?” Peter exclaimed. “You know what’s not fair Tony? Nothing from you this whole time and then you just spam my phone in the middle of the night? What the hell is that about!”

Tony just blinked at Peter. Peter huffed, hurt and frustrated by Tony’s lack of acknowledgement for what he’d done. Peter just shook his head.

“I don’t know what I thought I was doing coming up here. Never mind. See you, Tony.”

He moved to pull the door shut and retreat from the doorway.

“Wait! Peter, wait!” Tony jumped up from his chair, nearly knocking everything off his desk with the force of his hip knocking into the corner.

Peter stood, waiting.

“Will you just… will you come in here so we can talk? I literally have no idea what you’re talking about, Peter.”

Peter let out another frustrated sigh, but acquiesced. He stepped through the doorway and gently pulled the door shut behind him. When he turned to face Tony, he was surprised by how close they were standing.

“Tony,” Peter started softly. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

“That makes two of us Pete.” Tony shook his head, unable to bring himself to look at Peter.

“Well,” Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket, “how about we start with these.”

As Peter turned his phone so Tony could see the screen, Tony could feel the color drain from his face. There, he saw a thread of messages that were never sent from him to Peter. Tony shook his head and pulled out his own phone, pulling up his unsent message drafts to confirm that they had been cleared out when he switched phones. When he pulled up his messages, he suddenly wished the floor would open up and swallow him. All his drafts had been sent; every single one now had a little check mark next to them, indicating that they’d been delivered rather than deleted as he assumed.

“Peter, I’m so sorry,” Tony rushed out. “You were never supposed to get those messages, I never meant to bother you like this, oh my god. Oh god, I’m a disaster, how could-”

“Whoa, Tony! It’s okay!” Peter reassured him. Peter wanted to move just a bit closer, enough to reach out and soothe Tony himself. But he stopped himself short, his hand twitching at his side.

“I was happy to hear from you, Tony,” Peter said softly, careful not to spook Tony where he still refused to make eye contact. “I just don’t understand why you never sent any of these to me.”

At that, Tony’s head whipped up and he fixed Peter with a cold stare. “I texted you before I even left Springdale. Don’t act like this is on me. The ball has been in your court, Peter. That’s why I didn’t send any of these to you. It was pretty damn clear you didn’t want to hear from me!”

Peter just gaped at Tony. “Tony, I never got any messages from you. See!” Peter scrolled to the top of the thread, where the earliest message was dated as that morning. “These all came in this morning. They’re all out of order, but I didn’t get anything from you before now. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me!”

“What?!” Tony snatched Peter’s phone without thinking and scrolled through the messages that his phone had betrayed him with. As he scrolled through the mixed up messages, he came upon the one that Peter was meant to have received. Instead of receiving it six weeks prior, it was delivered in the flurry of drafts this morning.

“I don’t… how did this happen?” Tony muttered to himself.

He thought back to the day he left Springdale. He remembered being in a rush to get some work messages sent as he was taking off, going back and forth between emails and texts. Nat was insistent on getting some documents from Tony, and he had been late, as usual. He distinctly remembered finishing his message to Peter after responding to Nat right as his plane was taking off.

“Stupid old fucking phone,” Tony whispered.

“What?” Peter finally asked.

Finally, Tony made eye contact with Peter that didn’t make Peter feel like he was being hit with ice. In fact, Tony looked a bit sheepish.

“For a self-proclaimed tech genius, I’m really very stupid.”

Peter let himself smile ever so slightly.

“Turns out if I’d just checked my phone like a normal person, I would’ve noticed that I never actually hit send on that first message to you. And since I’m anything but normal, I’ve spent the last six weeks convincing myself that you didn’t want anything to do with me. Hence the message drafts that were never supposed to be sent to you. Again, I’m a stupid genius and my phone went ahead and sent out all my drafts when I updated to a new prototype.”

Peter took a deep breath as Tony handed his phone back to him. “You mean to tell me,” Peter grinned carefully, “that you, Tony Stark, forgot to hit send ?” He took a hesitant step toward Tony. “And then,” he continued, and took another step, “you wrote 20 texts that you never sent , all of which were sent to me when you got a new phone?”

“Um, yes,” Tony admitted as he looked up at Peter who had now entered his personal space.

In an instant, Peter threw back his head and let out an incredulous laugh. Before he could think about it, he wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist and hauled him across the last few inches between them. Tony stumbled into him and gripped Peter’s shoulders to stabilize himself. Peter quickly slid his phone into his pocket and brought his hand up to cradle the back of Tony’s head.

The touch was gentle and intimate, but neither man seemed to think anything of it. Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s and the older man loosened his grip on Peter to loop his arms around his neck.

“Tony,” Peter murmured softly.

Tony couldn’t hide the way his body quivered at the feeling of Peter’s breath on his face, their proximity, and the tone of Peter’s voice in that moment. Peter only gripped him tighter to his body as Tony buried his face in Peter’s neck. Forget moving too fast or being dignified, Tony missed him.

Tony stiffened, realizing he must’ve said that out loud when Peter whispered, “I missed you too, Tony.”

Peter craned his head back just enough to nose his way along Tony’s temple as his lips lightly brushed Tony’s cheek. Tony got the hint and angled his face up just slightly, inviting Peter in. Peter didn’t hesitate for a second, immediately feeling his way to Tony’s lips and slotting his against Tony’s. It was firm and soft, comforting and intense, brand new and like coming home. Peter let out a soft moan as Tony’s lips parted and his tongue darted out to run along the seam of Peter’s lips. Peter parted his lips in response and pulled Tony impossibly closer. Peter’s hand at the back of Tony’s head tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to make Tony gasp and part his lips even more. Peter took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Tony’s hot mouth, and they both moaned at the contact.

Peter pulled away with a wet smack, catching Tony’s weight as he leaned in for more. “Tony,” Peter breathed as he leaned his forehead against Tony’s again. Tony looked up at him through long eyelashes, and Peter could’ve melted right there. Peter just sighed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Tony’s head before taking a small step back.

“Just to be clear,” Peter says softly. “I want you, I want us, Tony.”

Tony let out one final sigh of relief, not realizing how much he’d needed to hear that. “Oh thank god, Pete,” Tony grinned.

“But I swear to god Tony, if you ever wake me up with 25 unsent text messages, ever again, I swear-”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that I’m bad with technology.”

“Says the CEO and founder of Stark Industries. I’m sure your customers will be thrilled to hear that,” Peter teased.

“Be nice,” Tony pouted. “I missed you and I’m fragile.”

Peter just smiled. “Yeah, I missed you too, Tony. But you’re stuck with me now, I promise”.

Before Tony could reply, Natasha stormed into the office, mid-rant. “Tony Stark! What are all these damn emails you spammed me with this morning?!”

Tony just smiled sheepishly and hid his face in Peter’s neck. He had some learning to do.

#mine #starker #starker au #starker fanfic #tony stark x peter parker

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Text

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape

track #1: Last Dance by Camera Can't Lie

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your request |

synopsis: In which Civil War never happened and they all lived happily ever after. Wanda and Vision dance at one of Tony’s fancy galas and are forced to address the feelings that have become apparent to themselves, and the rest of the team. Yearning included with a happy resolution after a lil bit of angsty longing.

if this was our last chance (i'd ask you to stay)

A fundraising gala wasn’t how Wanda had intended to spend her first free Friday night in over a month yet here she was, decked out in a red cocktail dress with her hair piled up in wavy curls atop her head.

Tony Stark had started by leading the team up to an actual stagewhich had Wanda feeling a hot wave of embarrassment that had little to do with the glaring heat of the spotlights overhead. She tried to stamp down the frustration that built in her with every joke cracked by the billionaire before the podium. Wanda had to give it to him this time, Tony had warned them exactly what tonight would be: a gaggle of busybody networkers and the odd philanthropist come to see the celebrities that were the Avengers. It just so happened that there was plenty of wealth to be given in exchange for a snatch of conversation with a superhero. So, Wanda knew she could grumble all she liked about how much she hated how they glorified her ‘job’ and made her famous in a way she knew she had no right to be, but that wouldn’t change the fac that she had agreed to this event. For the charities they were supporting it would be worth it. In a rare moment of understanding, Tony had even invited her to assist Pepper Potts in the distribution of funds to the various Stark sponsored charities, to see the work firsthand. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Not with her history.

Tony appeared to have reached the end of his speech and the rest of the team was thankfully let go to disperse around the large gala hall. Wanda took her time following Natasha off the stage, knowing that the moment she was enveloped into the waiting crowd the real trouble would begin. Already Steve was being mobbed making Wanda grateful that the public was still relatively fearful of her.

Natasha gave her a somewhat forced smile as she walked headfirst into the crowd, heading straight for Steve. A somewhat frantic scan of the crowd and Wanda had spotted Sam who had escape to the bar, talking with a child who looked far too young to be in such a place. She directed her feet there and did her best to weave throughout the glittering crowd.

A shoulder hit hers and Wanda spun, planting her feet the same way that she had been taught in training, barely stopping herself from falling over.

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice said as Wanda’s assailant turned towards her.

“That’s alright,” Wanda replied trying to smile kindly despite the pain in her shoulder, “I should have been more careful about where I was walking.”

The middle-aged woman’s eyes widened when she saw who she had bumped into and she leant away slightly in way that indicated she clearly wanted to step back but didn’t want to be rude. “No trouble at all.”

Wanda decided it was best to leave.

By the time she made it to the bar the kid had been guided off by Pepper in her usual whirlwind of reddish hair. Sam was leaning against the bar and appeared to be pointedly ignoring the group of people who were ogling him from a few seats down.

“You have a fanclub,” Wanda said in a mock whisper as she sidled up to him.

“They aren’t all for me,” Sam grinned back and sure enough a few of the group had broken off and were heading her way.

Wanda resisted the urge to say oh no and instead braced herself with a welcoming smile. Undeterred by being in the presence of two of the Avengers a youngish woman with choppy black hair extended a hand confidently.

“I’m Alisia,” she said, and Wanda returned the hand shake as warmly as she could. She hadn’t spent a whole lot of time out in public in a long time, was this how things were done?

“I’m Wanda.”

“We know!” The person standing beside Alisia was all gangly limbs but the voice that emerged was pitched with such child-like excitement it almost made Wanda smile for real.

Alisia gave her companion a sharp look. “We really admire your work.”

“Thank you…” Wanda said slowly looking at Sam for guidance. He smirked and tipped his glass to her. At least Sam had had a regular life before joining the Avengers. Wanda tried not to think about a lot of what had happened before she had joined the team, though she had attended school for a period of time, she was still seriously out of practice in making introductions.

“I’m Aron,” the tall person said extending their hand, somewhat shakily, as Alisia had done.

“Lovely to meet you,” Wanda replied, not liking how tightly her hand was held.

When neither made to make further conversation and were instead content to look at her in awe. Wanda quickly turned to the bottle of wine that Sam had before him pouring a glass for herself.

“We have a proposal for you,” said Aron abruptly breaking the awkward silence that appeared to have their friends not far off in a bit of a tizzy, judging from the groans of shame.

“A plan you could say,” Alisia added.

“To take down scientology.”

It was said with such absolute certainty that even Sam choked on his drink.

“We’ve seen what you can do, what happened in Sokovia, Lagos. You could annihilate their headquarters with a wave of your hand–”

Wanda didn’t bother to correct them on the scope of her powers at present, rather she was consumed by the heartbeat that was growing louder in her ears, the fact that her hand had begun to shake a little around the glass she held. Holding the glass tighter helped marginally in blocking the onslaught of images that threatened to overwhelm her. Pietro, Ultron, Novi Grad’s destruction, Lagos and every mistake she had made since.

Sam wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Hey guys it was really nice meeting you, but I don’t know if this is an appropriate conversation to have at a charity function,” Sam said gesturing to the room around them. Distantly Wanda registered that an orchestra had started playing somewhere.

Alisia wasn’t swayed. “It’s just a simple question, we’ve even written up a report for you with all the headquarters listed if you’d like to take it. The destruction you can cause could be of real use to our group in dismantling–”

This was not going in the direction Wanda needed it to. She tried to work through the breathing exercises that Sam had taught her or go over the mentally quietening techniques he’d said helped PTSD patients. She was usually quite good at it but hadn’t ever had to use such coping mechanisms in a public scenario. Wanda set the glass down quickly because any second she was sure it was going to shatter under her grip.

“That’s enough,” Sam said at the exact time a familiar figure stepped up to them, shielding Wanda from the warm lights overhead.

“Wanda, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The relief that spread through her bones was tangible. Wanda felt herself straighten, take a deep breath in through her mouth and out through her nose.

“I was waiting her for you,” she replied breathlessly with her first real smile of the night.

Vision’s arm came to a comforting rest around her back, his hand cupping her elbow as he nodded to the Sam and lead her away. They left in time for her to hear Sam questioning the kids about the rest of their friends who appeared to be taking advantage of the free flow bar despite being clearly underage.

“Thank you, you saved me,” Wanda murmured as they arced around the outside of the crowd which had begun to section off into little groups, many focused around one or two members of the team.

“I thought you might need rescuing,” Vision said back and tapped his forehead with his free hand, indicating the mind stone that was usually atop his forehead. Tony had made it perfectly clear that Vision could appear as himself tonight if he so wished, but as Vision had confided in her beforehand, he hadn’t wanted to make any of the donors uncomfortable. His sensitivity to others warmed her heart usually, but the way he hid himself didn’t feel right. If anyone ought to be hidden away out of sight of the wealthy donors it was her.

As though knowing what she was thinking, Vision pulled her closer and over to an empty table where a handful of belongings had been abandoned in favour of the networking happening out on the floor. He poured her a fresh glass of water and placed it in her hand.

“Thank you, if you hadn’t saved me, I don’t know what I would have done,” Wanda said and reached out to touch his hand.

“It’s alright.”

“Still, you shouldn’t need to,” Wanda said sheepishly, not quite knowing why she was still talking. Thank you had been simple enough, where were these excuses coming from?

“You know why I do it,” Vision said making out to hold her hand in his, but Wanda was quick to draw it back to the water glass before her.

She did know why he did it. Vision had made that veryclear two weeks ago when they had returned from a particularly difficult mission. Things hadn’t gone the way they were supposed to, and Wanda had dislocated her shoulder mid fight. She’d used her magic to push herself away from the battle, leaving Steve and Sam to take the brunt of the thugs they had discovered were attempting to reproduce old Stark military technology. All it had taken was that spark of blinding pain as her shoulder slipped free of its socket for Wanda’s powers to momentarily get out of control. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it, if it was even a conscious decision really. But she must have reached out to Vision. He arrived just in time to knock the crap out of one of the thugs who’d stepped towards her to finish the work.

Vision had fallen to his knees next to her and assessed her injury immediately, even as she struggled to speak past the pain and explain that she was fine, that Sam and Steve needed help. He had lifted her with endless care and taken her straight to the SUV that Natasha was waiting in. He’d even gotten terse with Nat about Wanda’s condition and the need to get back to the compound but waiting for the others naturally won out (Wanda had had to deal with his disapproving muttering as he tried to make her comfortable in the back of the car). When they were eventually joined by Sam and Steve the pain had gone down significantly but Vision was on edge. He insisted on holding her steady in the back of the car, and when they arrived back at the compound and called for a doctor, he had carried her from room to room until they reached the infirmary. Vision had been a constant presence as the doctor arrived and set about administering pain medication and setting her shoulder back into its joint.

After a brief argument, Wanda had been allowed back to her regular rooms where Vision had pestered her all evening with fresh ice packs, more pillows and a steaming bowl of chicken soup (Wanda had to remind him this was usually just for the flu but when he began to list its benefits post-exercion she gave in and ate it all).

It wasn’t until late that night as she drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, waking every now and then to the throbbing in her shoulder as the pain medication slowly wore off, did Wanda realise Vision was still beside her.

His head was slumped against his chest in the chair that usually sat in the corner of her room. His hand was holding hers and it tightened as she shifted into a sitting position. Registering that she was awake Vision had snapped upright and pulled his hand away.

“Sorry,” he’d said and seemed to be about to stand up, “I–”

“It’s fine,” Wanda said assuring enough that he sat down once more, “I want you to stay.”

His face softened in the near darkness and he pulled his chair closer. They whispered quietly to each other for three quarters of an hour, despite no chance of waking up the rest of the team (Wanda’s room being sound proofed when she’d moved in thanks to violent sleep terrors in her first few weeks). When her eyes finally started to droop again Vision helped her lie down and again, he hesitated. Their eyes locked and for a moment Wanda thought for sure that he’d kiss her. Instead, he had leant closer and pressed his forehead to hers for the shortest of moments. It wound up being infinitely more intimate than a peck on the cheek might have been. The breath that he sighed as he rose again was of relief and Wanda felt it then – the absolute fear he’d felt that morning when her distressed cry for help had reached him along some line of connection between them (owing to the stone, she assumed). She wondered if Vision had ever expected himself to be presented with the idea of loss.

Worse yet, Vision had unknowingly (or perhaps consciously) left their link open as he resumed his seat and took her hand again. Wanda had done her best to pretend to sleep as Vision had closed his eyes, no doubt his brain was moving as quick as ever behind fluttering eyelids. But it was difficult to fully relax as he fed the feelings along this line of connection Wanda hadn’t even realised, they’d had. She supposed it made sense, they hadn’t always needed to use words and got along in a way that surprised most of the team. Wanda was about to ask Vision to feelmore quietly so she could get some sleep when his eyes opened again and whatever he’d been researching was left to the back of his mind. Instead, she felt his gaze on her ‘sleeping’ face and the following wave of affection that flowed to her, warming her from top to bottom. Adoration, coloured by fear yes, but overwhelmingly loving.

They’d remained that way most of the night, Vision retreating into his mind for most of the time no doubt aware that Wanda spent two hours focusing on regulating her breaths so that when she eventually dropped off into oblivion, she was exhausted.

They hadn’t discussed that day since. Vision had been gone by morning and Wanda wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t dreamt the whole thing up. Except for the fact that she felt the same way every time she saw him and recalled the warmth of that night. Then Vision had been sent south and she’d been on house arrest for a week to heal her shoulder properly. They hadn’t really had the opportunity to sit down like this.

So yes, Wanda knew why he did what he did. Why he was drawn to her like this. But she also couldn’t ignore the stone that hung between them and the connection it held to both their lives. How could she call the feelings that flowed through her real – what if it was all owing to the stupid stone in his head? That was the fear that had stuck with her in the two years since they’d started living together at the compound, she wasn’t about to start listening to her heart now.

So, she snatched her hand back, immediately regretting her action at the flash of emotion across Vision’s face and went back to her water. She convinced herself that his statement, you know why I do it, didn’t require any further discussion for the moment.

To Wanda’s surprise the silence between them was broken by the small orchestra in one corner of the hall which had started up a mighty waltz. Dancing? She mused to herself. Sure enough couples had begun to pair off across what was revealed to be a dance floor in the centre..

While Wanda’s eyes had been stuck on the floor, Vision’s had been fixed to her and she could see he was about to ask to dance. She knew she should say no, but also knew she wouldn’t be able to if it came down to it.

Her second saviour of the night was Steve Rogers who happened to walk past at exactly that moment. Wanda launched herself up and in a few short strides was at his side asking for a dance with a mocking curtsey, a dismayed Vision left behind her. It has to be like thisshe told herself.

“Would you care to dance, Captain?” Steve looked taken aback at first but quickly joined in on the charade.

“Of course, milady,” and extended an elbow in a way that reminded Wanda that going dancing like this had probably been fairly common for Steve when he was a teenager.

They took up a position on the outer rim of the dance floor as Wanda tried to find her feet and recall what little she knew about waltzing from television and the one dance lesson Nat had teased out of her. Thankfully Steve was an excellent partner. She knew there were a whole host of jealous eyes on her as they spun around but Wanda paid them little attention. Her thoughts were so clearly occupied, and so obviously on Vision that Steve had to save her from stumbling a few times.

“It doesn’t have to be like this between you two, y’know?” Steve said giving her a comforting smile.

Wanda sighed hopelessly. “It does though.”

“I don’t know everything that is happening or if this helps, but you know that no one in the team would have an issue with it right?”

“I know, thank you.” It was comforting coming from him, but Wanda knew it was the least of her concerns.

“So why do you avoid his advances?” Steve asked bluntly in a way she knew only Steve would. “Are his feelings not reciprocated?”

Wanda flushed. “No, they are reciprocated…”

“So, what’s the problem.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It isn’t,” Steve said shrugging and Wanda thought she noticed a little edge to his voice. “If you both feel something strong, I can’t begin to imagine what could be keeping you from each other. At least nothing worth listening too.”

“Maybe,” Wanda said thoughtfully. She wanted to tell Steve about the connection they seemed to have, her fear that their connection was down to the stone and the stone alone. That she had imagined all the instances over the last year when her heart had fluttered or warmed at the sight of him. But she knew, deep down, that this wasn’t the heart of the fear. She was more afraid than she’d been in a long time. It wasn’t the fear that came with regular life-threatening missions or the fear she had felt crouched below her childhood bed, waiting for a bomb to finally detonate. It was the fear that she’d get attached and when she eventually lost Vision… that this time she wouldn’t climb out of the pit of grief.

“Don’t let fear be your compass,” Steve said squeezing her hand and pulling her to a stop by the outskirts of the dancers. He was so intuitive when it came to what she was worrying about that it was unnerving. He also knew precisely what to say. “Take it as someone who didn’t take the leap when he had the chance.”

Even if Wanda had wanted to protest this, she didn’t have the chance as Vision appeared yet again. His brow was furrowed, it furrowed deeper when he caught sight of Steve’s hand which she hadn’t realised she’d still been holding.

“May I take over?” Vision asked looking rather than at Steve, but directly at Wanda.

She nodded to Steve and he gave her hand one last squeeze. “Take the leap.” With that last reminder he disappeared off into the crowd. Without hesitation, Vision offered up his hand.

In moments Vision had her spinning around the floor, no longer hidden around the outside but edging closer to the centre of the dance floor. His movements were fluid, his hand a soft assurance cupping her back, his left hand guiding her through the dance. Without warning the orchestra picked up a livelier tune and the dance changed, some couples left the floor in surprise, but more were quick to replace them. The contemporary music filled the hall around them, but Wanda paid it little attention, her gaze was focused on Vision only.

After a particularly wonderful spin that had Wanda twirling back into Vision’s embrace, she felt she was finally able to form words.

“I didn’t know you could dance?”

“Until a few minutes ago I couldn’t,” Vision said honestly, a somewhat sheepish smile grace his face. “The only reason it took me so long to go after you was that I didn’t want to fumble on the dance floor. I was watching videos…” He trailed off in something like embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad one of us knows what to do.”

“I–” She began.

“Wanda–” Vision started and they both looked at each other before laughing.

“Would you like to go first?” He offered.

“I just wanted to apologise for leaving you at the table, it was rude.”

“Not at all,” Vision said shaking his head fervently, “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’d hate to think that I’ve pressured you into anything, I’d never want to do that. If anything that I’ve said, or done, has made you uncomfortable, tonight or in the past–”

“No,” Wanda said, cutting him off more forcefully than she intended. She cleared her throat, her cheeks warming again. “You haven’t pressure me into anything, this is entirely me. I’ve been acting without thinking about what we both feel and what I want.”

Before she could elaborate on what she had just revealed they were whipped up in the music once more and she was spent spinning around again and again. She barely felt her feet moving across the shining marble of the floor and had to check that she wasn’t legitimately levitating. Pairs moved to make space for them as Vision led her through a simple but elegant routine of spinning, stepping and swaying. Wanda relished the feeling of his hand at her back and the closeness between them. The intimacy as clear despite the hundred eyes piercing into their back as they flew around the space in perfect synchronicity. With a final crescendo that left Vision to dip her gracefully, Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, her arms holding onto him tightly. When he pulled her up, her arms settled around his neck and they swayed for the final bars of the song before the audience began too applaud the orchestra. They were left staring at each other, almost nose to nose. Wanda noted that she was breathing hard, and it wasn’t entirely from the exertion of dancing. She was so focused on his eyes and the way they were looking at each other, the knowing and understanding passing between them. With a slight hesitation she reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek and felt the warmth there as he leaned into her caress.

There moment was interrupted by a loud wolf whistle and Wanda started to realise that they were somewhat the centre of attention and that the dancing had stopped for the night. The source of the wolf whistle was, unsurprisingly, Tony himself.

“We should get out the way,” Wanda said backing away. She saw the momentary fear on Vision’s face, or rather felt it crackle in the air around them and took the opportunity to extend her hand. It was a simple gesture, but she knew as he gently took her hand that it meant everything they hadn’t yet said. It was what Vision had been waiting for, the confirmation of his feelings and the return of hers and that was all they needed for the moment. Wanda squeezed his hand tighter as they stepped around the groups of people blocking their way out of the hall. Vision seemed somewhat confused about where they were going but realisation kicked in when Wanda pulled him behind the curtains that lead to the backstage area of the events hall. The heavy black material swung shut behind them, thoroughly insulating their voices from the outside world.

“Should we talk about this?” Vision said as Wanda dropped his hand and turned back to face him. He gestured between them at this which summed up exactly how uncertain he still was.

“Why talk?” Wanda asked, tilting her head and stepping forward.

One hand caught the lapel of his blue suit, the other rested against his chest as Vision took her face in his hands with all the care in the world. His breath was a whisper against her face as he delicately kissed her cheek on one side, then the other. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead. Starting at her jaw next he pressed tender kisses all the way until he reached her mouth. Wanda tilted her head up and her eyes fluttered open. Vision had dropped his phased glamour and was his usual self, eyes glowing somewhat in the dark. The stone sat quietly at his forehead, but Wanda didn’t spare it a glance. Perhaps this connection was partly due to the stone, but that couldn’t be all it was. This feeling had grown over time, it had been slow and then suddenly quick until she was hurtling towards the cliff and falling before she knew it.

When Vision pressed his lips against hers, she couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face as she flung her arms around him. Finally, her soul seemed to sigh. She was still afraid, but it was a different kind of fear, the fear that she might pass this up, this feeling that was threatening to make her heart beat out of her chest. That she might miss the opportunity to have a life with Vision was more frightening that dangerous missions or the shadow of death always at her back.

Vision drew back slightly, his forehead was still pressed to hers, but his hands had slid down to her waist. Without hesitation Wanda threw her arms around him and pulled him close. It was a moment before he returned the motion. The air crackled around the pair with something only they could sense, affection and longing hung about them that made Wanda press into his embrace further. There were no more words to say for the moment, Wanda had taken her leap and now she had him she was never going to let go.

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