#sigh i actually wanted to leave on my vacation on the 17th so i just wouldn't be in town for the 18th....

[satlun]

Vacation Boy: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, fluff, and definitely angst Trigger Warnings: Johnny Utah's sweetness

It was a hot summer day in the middle of July that you will always remember.

Author's Note: I really love this one. I feel like I really wrote it down from my heart. It's like I put my soul into it. Yeah, I hope you guys enjoy!! ♥️

April 18, 1992 at New York

It is a move-in day for the new job you just got here after graduation, at the big city. You drop your bags and luggage on the floor immediately right at the moment you close your apartment's door. Five-hour flight from Idaho and you just finished moving your stuff in, you're really tired.

Your eyes look around the apartment. It a mess, you can't even have a bed or even a space on the floor to sleep on. You just bought a new bed today and it will deliver within two days, guess you have to sleep on the floor tonight. How bad. You kick the boxes away from your way before stepping in the middle of your room, looking around and thinking which box you should open first or maybe you just move them to one of the corners and open them tomorrow. You sigh.

And another thought kick in, maybe you should open them now before the delivery delivers your bed which is so big, too big for one person but you don't care actually. You sit down on the floor that have many boxes around you. You decide to open the boxes that you packed up your clothes first. You put your clothes into your closet and dress up at the same time. Some clothes you haven't wear it since you bought them and some clothes you haven't seen them but your mom probably packed them for you? You try the new ones on while looking at the mirror. Your eyes admire the dress you're wearing on until your gaze spots the box that says “old stuffs” through the mirror. You turn around and walk to it. You're a person who loves keeping things as your memories, postcards, letters and souvenirs.

The box that full of stuff you have collected, you smile while picking them up. Your old memories start to come into your mind. You really love this feeling, it is good if you understand. The feeling and the emotion during those moments will come across your mind. You grab many things out of the box until the last piece, your old diary which there is no page left.

You open shortly from the first page until the last page. Your eyes roam through it until you spot one page on 17th July last year.

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart...

You are lost in your memories, all the feelings get back to your mind. The beach, the wind, the sun and him...

...

It was a hot summer day of the mid July at California and it was the last day of your vacation. The sun didn't rise yet since it was only 6am in the morning. You walked down the stairs from the road to the beach alone since your parents were still asleep. You wanted to see sunrise at the beach before you leave because first you had to leave so early in the next morning second Idaho doesn't have beaches third you don't go to beaches so often even beach is your favorite place.

Your eyes looked around the beach. There was no one here except a guy around your age surfing alone in the sea at this early?? Well, that was quite interesting. The water must be so cool sine the sun didn't rise yet. That was what you thought. You sat down on the sand with your casual clothes which actually were the clothes you wore last night. The beach was very quiet that you could only hear the wave and the wind, so peaceful. You always love California because your dad talked about it a lot and his favorite song is Hotel California by Eagles which your dad always listens to it since you were young. You wished you could stay here forever, you would build a small house next to the beach and you might actually start learning how to surf. You thought it was cool, how come people stand on those boards and surf on big waves? That must relate with physics but it was still cool for you. You really wanted to learn it one day.

After a while of sitting and glancing at him time to time. You know it was hard to look somewhere else when no one was there except this guy. You could say, he wasn't that good in surfing but you didn't want to judge anybody so you tried to stop thinking about this mysterious stranger guy. You distracted yourself by looking at the sun which was starting to rise. Just a little.

Right now, the guy was swimming closer to the shore. You feel a little bit nervous because there was only you here all alone and what if he says, “You stared at me. Are you a psycho?” What are you gonna do! You just hoped that he didn't notice that which was impossible. He was now walking up to the beach, seems like he was walking to you. Oh my- you felt like you just wanted to disappear. Please please please, I didn't mean to stare... what? Did he just give you a smile?

“Hi?” The guy looked down at you with a soft smile while the sky was starting to become yellow. “Hi” You answered as he slowly sat down next to you, not close. It's good since he was a completely a stranger, not bad for the first impression. “What brings you here this early?” He looked at you before rubbing his head with a towel. “The sun... and what about you?” You looked at him with his wet hair, he didn't look at you but the sun. It was raising. “If I say myself?” He said and finally looked at you once again. What does it mean ‘myself’? “You mean– you, yourself just want to be here this early. That's all?” His eyebrows raised. “A shot in the dark.” He chuckled. “It's not that hard.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a smile and the conversation became silent, it was awkward and he was just wiping his face with the towel. “You surf a lot?” It was a dumb question actually but who cares, you hate dead air. “Lately, yes. I'm practicing it. I just caught my first tube this morning.” You just nodded and then continued the conversation. “I always appreciate people who can surf... you know. How can people stand on that board and surf in big waves? It is just cool for me.” His chuckle was so cute... what? You mean it was soft and whatever. As if he could read your mind. “It must be something about physics but I don't know, not my type.” Not his type? It was a joke he meant he didn't even care about physics since it wasn't his favorite subject. “Then what's your type?” He could answer it in a second. “Athletic” It was obvious that he liked athletic, his body and his spirit? “I see...” The sun rose now. You could see it clearly now. You glances at your watch and it was 7am. “You live here?” His soft and deep voice interrupted you. “No. I'm on my vacation, tomorrow is my last day.” He nodded before giving you a glance. “How was your vacation?” He asked. “It was good. I had a lot of fun here.” You always love it. Everything all just gave you peace to your mind and soul. It was like another kind of healing. “I'm glad you had a lot of fun here.” His beautiful smile formed on his face again. Your heart almost skipped a beat but you tried to keep it cool. You glanced at his board. “I wish I could surf.” He believes that the only thing that is matter is ourselves. If you want to do something, you should do it. “You can try. Just do it. Do it for yourself.” You sighed in desperation. “I want to... but there's no beach back in Idaho.” “You are from Idaho?” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes” You looked at him. “I've never been there but I would love to one day.” “You should. It's great. I can tour you around.” It was a joke but what if it sounds weird... “Yeah. It would be nice.” He smiled at you and all of your concerns were gone. He is the kind of person who makes you feel comfortable while you're talking to. “It may have indoor surfing places in Idaho maybe?” he gave you an advice. “I think it has but it can't be campared to this actual sea right?" You span your arms to the sea. “The real waves and the real sea water.” His eyes followed your hand and nodded. “Yeah. You're right. This one is better.” He gave you a smile while looking at you.

For a moment, you saw him glancing at his watch, it almost 8am and he seemed like he needed to go. He grabbed his surf board and stood up, ready to leave. “Do you wanna... eat lunch together?” Did he just ask me on a date or something? Your delusions consumed you again. You hesitated at first because you just had no idea about your answer if it should be; “Yes, of course I'm so glad you ask me!!” Or “Okay, sure.” Or “no... I already have a plan” because he is still a random guy that you just met. However, he had no harm you could feel it. So, your answer was, “Sounds good. Sure. Where?” He pointed at the sidewalk restaurant near the beach which was still close now. “There” you stood up and followed his finger. “Okay. 12pm?” You asked “Yeah. 12pm.” He was about to leave but something made him stop and turn around. “I'm Johnny.” That was it, you thought he wouldn't tell you his name. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a quick smile. “Same here.” He gave you a soft smile like the first time he did before leaving.

...

11.50am at California State was really hot. Your face was so sweaty, your legs rushed to the door of the sidewalk restaurant and got in. The restaurant was still hot because there was no air conditioning. You sit on a table, waiting for Johnny to come. Your clothes were changed to something prettier. Well, you didn't mean to impress anyone but yourself. Right?.... RIGHT?

After a while of waiting for him and it was already 12pm, he finally showed up in a tight grey shirt which made him look different in good way. His hair was now dry and was set perfectly. He literally could pull anybody he wanted. That was your weird thought. When Johnny spot you, he rushed to you with the same soft smile immediately. You didn't know if it was the weather or it was him that made your heart melt.

“Have you been here long?” He sat down in front of you as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” Johnny nodded as an answer before picking up a menu. “What would you like to eat today?” When it comes to food, it always be a hard decision to make. Usually, you just order the same same thing but maybe this time you should try something different. “I have no idea... could you recommend me something good?” He gave you a smile and show the menu for you. He pointed his finger on shrimp and fries. “Sure. This. Is my favorite.” It sounds good shrimp and fries. You gave him a nod and smiled at him. He has a good taste in food. “Shrimp and fries, 2 please?” Johnny called a waitress and ordered the food for you and him. It was not a date right? But you couldn't help to think it that way. He set his hair perfectly... it wasn't that necessary to do it just for eating lunch in this weather with a girl he just met. Whatever.

After the waitress went to the kitchen, Johnny started talking to you. “Where did you visit this morning?” He shot you a question. “Santa Monica Pier. There are amusement rides and many other things.” You explained to him while your eyes are looking around the restaurant and switch to him time to time. It was hard to just stare and focus on him. You meant he was kind of... handsome? It was just hard you know. “That is my favorite place when I was a kid. You like to play something exciting?” He raised his eyebrows because that is his favorite thing as well. “Oh no. Not at all. But my younger brother does so he dragged me there.” Johnny laughed at your answer. “You have a younger brother? I wish I had one.” He gave you a smile before looking out the window, watching other kids playing around the beach. “Oh please. You wouldn't like it that much.” You chuckled. “How come?” He was curious. “He is naughty and ugh so on. You will understand if you have one.” You paused for a moment before continuing to speak. “But I do wish I had an older brother.” Johnny switched his gaze on you again. He noticed your eyes that full are full of hope. “So you're the oldest?” He asked. “Yeah.” He inhaled and exhaled softly as he put his hands on the table. “Being the oldest must be very hard. You know, they have to be good at everything and also have responsibility at the same time. And we are just teenagers who just want to have fun.” He paused and notice that you were listening to him carefully so he started to tell you more about him. “I really understand that feeling. I'm an only child and the things aren't that different.” All the things he said was just right. You the oldest and it feels like everything or every weight is on your back. You have to handle it. You must. “As if you can read my mind.” You chuckled to make the conversation felt less intense. Johnny flashed his soft smile at you again. That was his deadly weapon of killing you. “How many years apart are you and your brother?” You didn't expect that even you were about to ask him about his age either. “11 years. I'm 22 and he's 11.” Johnny nodded as the waitress served us our food. “I'm 24... let's eat.” You both smiled at each other before eating his favorite food. You hadn't tried it before and it was better than you expected. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone or the same thing you usually do aren't that bad. You try something new and you may accidentally found your new favorite things.

30 minutes later of talking and eating food, you both stepped out of the sidewalk restaurant. You looked out at the sea which the surface was reflecting the sun and the heat. “So... me and my new friends have a party tonight and the beach... if you want to join you can come.” He interrupted you. “Thank you but... I don't want to interrupt your party...” You chuckled at him. The truth was you just hate meeting new people sine you have social anxiety. “It's alright. Never mind.” He seemed like he was about to leave. So, this was gonna be your last time of seeing him?? That's it? “Maybe it's not that bad– I'll go.” His smile was formed from excitement you could tell. You wished you could make him smile forever, it was like sunshine in a daylight sky. “See you there at 7pm.” Johnny pointed at some space at the beach, and you nodded as understanding.

...

The weather is completely different from the day and the night. The wind makes you feel cold. Both of your hand brush your arm while walking down the stairs. You can see a group of teenagers walking and dancing around a bonfire at the beach. It must be them, his new friends. You just hope that he was already there because it was gonna be weird if a stranger showed up at Mr.Nobody's party.

That moment Johnny saw you first. He stood up and rushed to you immediately, noticing your reaction. “Are you cold?” You just nodded and walked along with him. “Come closer to the bonfire.” He led you to the bonfire that was around by his friends. You sit down on the log he already prepared for you. Suddenly, all of his friends noticed your presence. They walked to you and started to talk. “This is Bodhi. Bodhi, this is y/n.” Johnny introduced you to the man who was a bit older than him and his blond hair was really memorizing. “Nice to meet you, Bodhi.” Bodhi just nodded before sitting next to Johnny. “Your girlfriend?” Johnny refused immediately. He didn't want you to make you feel uncomfortable at all but it was also still hard to control his friend's mouth. “No. She's my new friend.” His deep voice and the reaction of protecting over you was a thing. “I'm sorry for my mouth.” Bodhi made a joke before offering his hand to you, you shook his hand and gave a quick smile.

Bodhi was scary for you at first. However, the moment after you both had a conversation about many things, especially the 50 year storm. You started to see him differently. He wasn't that bad. He was a cool guy. You loved when he talked about the ocean and the sea. As if he was a son of a mermaid or something. His spirit that he had towards the marine life was just really cool. He was a cool guy with his big goal. You just hoped that if that time comes, he would be able to go to Bell's beach in time and achieve the ultimate ride.

An hour later, the boys and the girls decided to play football. “Come, y/n” Bodhi called you while holding a ball in his hand. “Thank you... but I prefer to watch.” Well, because you're not good at athletic at all. You didn't want to embarrass yourself as well so refusing him was the best choice. “Come on.” Bodhi tried to convince you and Johnny noticed that. He walked to you and said something quietly. “If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll talk to him.” When you heard him saying that, all the thoughts you had towards athletes were changed. Well, Johnny really affected on you that much. You hesitated for a moment and then you realized that you wanted to get out of your comfort zone and tried something new. If you accidentally embarrassed yourself then it was going to be alright since this was the last night of staying here. They were not going to remember your embarrassing moments forever. You didn't answer him back except walking into the crowd, ready to join. A smile formed on his face while his eyes followed you.

You started to play clumsily. It was kind of embarrassing but whatever. You tried to not care and it seemed work. Fun made you forget all about those thoughts. You played and you fell off over and over but you could still laugh and smile because it was really fun. Johnny always cheered you up for the whole game. “You're doing great.” Or “Keep going.” He said softly to you for the whole time.

Almost an hour later. It was 9pm. It was the time to go back to the hotel. You had to leave early in the morning and your parents must be worried about you now. “Are you leaving?” Johnny noticed that you started to look back at the hotel and wipe all the sand from your pants. “Yeah” you said. “Safe flight, y/n!” Bodhi and his friends shouted at you. You just said thank you to all of them. “I'll walk with you.” Johnny said quietly. You insisted him to stay here but he didn't listen. It was completely dark and he was worried about you.

The only sound you could hear is the waves. It was not totally dark, it still has light along the road. He was walking along the beach with you. You talked about how fun it was and how cool his friends were. He chuckled with every word you said. “So, I hope it will be one of your best memories of traveling here.” Johnny looked at you while your hair was flowing because of the wind. “It definitely is... thank you, Johnny... you really made my vacation so special.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “No problem. You deserve it.” You smiled and looked over the sea, thinking about tomorrow. You had to leave very early and you didn't think that you would see him again. “What time will you leave tomorrow?” Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “6am. I don't want to leave.” You sighed. “I wish you could stay here forever too.” That moment your heart was beating so fast. His voice, his words and the atmosphere. As if he was about to say something and you didn't want to ask him either. If he wanted he would. “I will come. Tomorrow. 6am to send you.” You raised your eyebrows immediately. Gosh, you thought this was gonna be the last time you saw him. You flashed a happy face to him. “Thank you, Johnny. It's kind of weird that I just know you for a day but... you know I feel comfortable around you and... I feel like I could talk about anything with you.” Johnny chuckled and looked at the sand that was stepped by our feet. “I feel that way too. I'm glad I know you.” And you said back immediately. “I'm glad that you said ‘hi’ to me.” You both laughed. “I saw you glanced at me... maybe you just wanted to talk?” You were caught off guard. He noticed that you actually glanced at him tome to time while he was surfing. “There was nobody there except a guy surfing. You can't blame me.” You both laughed out loud. “Sure. I can't blame you for looking at this good surfing man.” You just shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “Don't stop alright?” He's confused. “Stop what?” “Surfing. You seem... very happy and– very concentrated while surfing. It is like you are in your own world. I think surfing really matches you.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “Sure. I will keep that in mind.”

You both finally arrived at the front of your hotel. You turn around to see him again before walking into the building. “Good night, Johnny.” He sighed and smiled at you. “Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.” You smiled back and walked into the building, you walked and turn back and walked again. Johnny laughed at your actions. He waited for you until the elevator's doors closed and gave you a smile as you did the same then he finally turned around and walked away.

...

The next morning at 5:45am. You were waiting your parents and your brother to put the luggage into the car. You said to them that you wanted to see the beach for the last time and you would be back by 6am.

You ran across the road, down to the beach, looking around hoping to see him sitting somewhere waiting for you but there was no sign of him at all. You waited and waited and waited... 5:48... 5:54... 5:58... 6:00... he didn't come as he said... as if it was all just a dream you had last night. As if it wasn't real. As if it hadn't happened... you lost in your thoughts while turning around to find him every direction. There was no one, only the sea and you.

You gave up and left.

...

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart. I can't forget him and I will never forget... but why? Why didn't you come? Why didn't you send me? Why? Why Johnny...? I waited but you didn't come... you didn't...

You close your diary and smile to yourself in tears. Nothing you can do except the memories that have left in your mind. You will never be able to forget him. His smile, his eyes and his spirit. You don't think you will ever find anyone like him anymore. You wish you could go back in that time to see him again, to start it all over again.

How is he now? What is he doing? Is he still live in California? Does he still remember you? These thoughts don't stop coming across your mind. All you can do is imagine, imagine that he is alright, he is still surfing, he is still in California and he is still remember you. And you will never know that your imaginations are true or not...

END (Don't be sad I still have end credits down below)

...

Fun facts: you can skip this part lol. It's not necessary.

The diary part was inspired from my own diary that I wrote about a foreign man I met a year ago at a beach. This is the actual text: Monday, 17 July 2023 I'mma talk about my vacation boy that I met him on 12 July at ____ beach. Damn, he's my type. We accidentally made eye contact two times. He has tanned skin and pretty face. I can't remember him now omg and I have short sighted and that's fucking bad. I couldn't see him clearly. I just know that he's the most handsome boy that I've ever met on this trip. He was in the sea with an old man (his father?) I actually think he has a brother too. I just realized that these two boys were the boys that I adored when I first got to this beach before finding other beaches to swim on this island. Wish he still remembers me. Honestly, I'm not that pretty but he got my heart. I can't get him out of my mind, almost two fucking days now. Author's Note: It's really cringe but I think it's funny so I would like to share with you lol.

I love writing diary because I always forget get things so I think it's nice if I just write them down

I really have a box full of stuff, post card, and letters from my friends. I love collecting them.

My father actually loves Hotel California by Eagles and I do love California too, one of the places that I would like to live.

I wish I had an older brother 😭

Someone told me that being an only child means you have to be good at everything. It used to encourage me but at some point I felt like I'm just a girl you know I can't be good at everything. What are you expecting from me??? It's like the only child/ the oldest child thing if you know you know.

...

End credit? YES.

“Jesus! What time is it??” Johnny shouted at one of his colleagues. “It's only 7am, dude.” It pissed him off. “Fuck!” He had an urgent case this morning at 4:30am. He needed to come to the office and worked on it until the time flew so fast that he didn't notice it at first. “Why you look so hurry, man?" The guy spoke calmly to him. “I gotta go.” He grabbed his things, rushing out of the door and left the office immediately. He got the urgent case and he didn't come to surf this morning like usual. Today is also the day you left and he planned to come and sent you. He didn't even give you his contact which was the worst mistake he ever made.

It was raining when he arrived at the beach, running down the stairs and you weren't there. He looked around hoping that you might still here, sitting somewhere at the beach but then he realized that it was impossible. You were actually gone and gone forever... he looked around with tears in his eyes, trying to find you. Then, he realized that he will never see you again. The most beautiful woman with the most lovely soul he had ever met. Your laugh, your eyes, your face, your lips, everything about you is breathtaking and he will never forget those things no matter how many years will pass. This beautiful soul will be kept in his heart forever...

END (I think the end credits made it sadder.)

© satlun, 2024 : DO NOT PLAGIARISM OR ANY OTHER WAY OF REPHRASING

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @howdy-cowpoke, @realmackross TIME: Evening (after call to Taylor), September 17th SUMMARY: Monty has a heart-to-heart with Mack. WARNINGS: Mental Health tw (just in case!) PREVIOUS THREADS: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - End.

Monty had been so kind as to let Mackenzie crash at his farm. It had been an escape and a way not to have to face everything bad she’d ever done in her life. There had been much hesitancy in wanting to leave, as much as she knew she’d have to go back and face the consequences of what she’d done in Wicked’s Rest - which she still wasn’t sure what the extent of it was. Who had she hurt or worse…killed? Apology Tour 2023 was going to have to happen soon, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. 

As she sat at the kitchen table moving a spoon around aimlessly in a bowl of brain stir fry, her own concoction, Mackenzie thought about how she was going to approach anyone she ever cared about again. Things with Winter didn’t go the way she had hoped they would, and now, she felt even lonelier than she had before ever coming to Wicked’s Rest. Maybe it would be best if she just left the town altogether and found a more remote place to stay, like Alaska or even the forests of Russia. There wouldn’t be any risk of harming anyone she had grown attached to, and if she died or had zombie brain rot out in the literal middle of nowhere it wouldn’t matter. But she knew she couldn’t keep potentially hurting or actually hurting the people she loved. Brody had been enough for a lifetime and then some.

—

While she had eventually come back into her own personality, it was clear to Monty that the consequences of her unnaturally-induced hunger and subsequent rampage still very much haunted her, and it was a feeling he knew all too well. 

He’d left to go grab some bags of feed from the farm supply store, offering her to come with, but she had gently refused. She was going to make herself something to eat, she’d said. So he’d gone alone, and as he walked back into the house now, hanging his hat by the front door and kicking off his boots, he rounded the corner into the kitchen to find her sitting at the table poking at said lunch, looking miserable. 

“Hola,” he interrupted her thoughts in a soft voice, hesitating a moment before pulling out a chair to sit near her. “How are you holding up, niña?”

—

Mackenzie jumped when she heard Monty’s voice. Her mind had been so far away. And even more so now that she knew her little vacation, if you wanted to call it that, was coming to an end, “Huh? Oh, hey, Monty.” She sent a small smile in his direction, before letting out a sigh and pushing the bowl of mush away from her, “If I’m being honest, not that great. I think…no, I know I did some horrible things during my reign of terror on Wicked’s Rest, I just don’t know to what extent. I can’t remember anything except touching that stupid flat rock.” She had been keeping her eye on social media and had seen a few things. She had also seen Taylor doing a horrible job at posing as her, which had led to them having a little discussion. But that was the easy part to clean up. The hard part would be facing all the people whose lives she had ruined, especially Winter.

“How do you do it? How do you keep going and own up to what you did? What if I killed someone else?” Mackenzie’s smile dropped, “I just…I don’t know what to do, Monty, except run. I ran the last time I did something horrible, and here I am again, seriously thinking about leaving for good. I can’t keep hurting the people I care about. I’ve already lost the most important person in the world. The man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with and start a family with…” She grew quiet as a single tear had managed to creep out of her eye and down her pale cheek.

—

It was a tough question. Especially since he too would just run away from his problems, until recently. Until he’d met Alan and been provided a reason to stay in one place. 

“Well, first of all, I think you must remember to be kinder to yourself,” Monty offered, folding his arms and leaning them on the table in front of him as he looked at her. “It is one thing to purposefully harm people, but what happened to you… Mack, that was not your fault. You can’t punish yourself like it was your fault.” Once again, he was the king of giving sound advice that he himself would never follow. “As for running…” The zombie let out a sigh and shrugged. “I understand that you feel like there’s no other choice. I often… felt the same way. I often ran when something like this happened. When I went too long without eating, trying to spare the people around me, only to end up hurting them three times as badly at the end of it.” And that was his fault, to some extent. It was an action born from concern, but it was his decision. “Touching the Flat and everything that came after, though…” He shook his head. “It is different. And let me tell you, Mack, if you have found reasons to stay, then you should stay. Those reasons, those people, they are worth it. And if they’re the right sort of people for you to keep in your life, they will understand that none of this was your fault.” 

He felt… sad. Sad that she was going through this, sad for all the lives he’d missed out on for so many years because of his own fear. Because he’d never had someone to tell him these things. He had to make sure she understood.

“Don’t end up like I was, mi amiga. Alone for a century, wandering, miserable and tired and hungry. Do not do that to yourself.” He reached a hand out, offering contact if she wanted it with his palm facing up. “I have a friend who makes regular… deliveries for me. I can set a portion of that aside for you, as well as a portion of what we harvest from the animals. I can help, if you will let me. Being fed will keep most of these issues at bay, and… well, I would maybe suggest not touching any more strange rocks, eh?”

—

Mackenzie listened intently to the older zombie. He had lived quite the undead life so far, and she knew he had to at least have some experience in this area. Of course hearing the words to be kind to herself had been a lot harder to take in than she had imagined it would be. Mostly, because she had just lost her friendship with Winter. The wound was still highly fresh and at this rate she wasn’t sure it would ever really heal, especially if Winter didn’t want her around. But she knew that Monty was right. None if it had been her fault. She could blame herself all day, but she didn’t ask to become a zombie. She never asked to die on the set of her job or to hurt Brody or anybody she had encountered. When the virus keeping her alive took control, she was powerless. All she could do was warn people ahead of time, but not knowing much about herself hadn’t given her the chance to warn the man she wanted to marry and grow old with. It just happened.

She continued to listen to him. Mackenzie couldn’t imagine all the things he had seen in his undead lifetime. But here he was, much much older than she was and still kind and generous. He hadn’t lost himself, like she was afraid would eventually come each time she woke up feeling a little less like the bright and bubbly person she once was. And she had found people that she was starting to care about here: Alex, Parker, Milo, Cass, and so many other people. And she still loved Winter. She would always love her and care about her, even if the medium didn’t want anything to do with her, but it was facing the consequences of her actions that had also scared her deeply.

Mackenzie’s eyes moved up to look into his warm brown hues. They were soft and held genuine concern for the situation she was going through. Did she want to starve herself? Did she really want to run and be further from everything she ever knew and loved?

“I don’t want to be alone forever, Monty. I’m just scared of the consequences. Not everybody out there knows what I am or that my intentions were completely out of my control. What if they want to burn me alive or chop off my head or whatever it is that they do to take care of people like us?” Mackenzie noticed his hand and reached out for it, gripping it tightly. “I know that I did bad things that I’m going to have to be responsible for. I just don’t know how to face those things.” She paused for a moment thinking about his offer, before answering, “And my assistant, Taylor, she actually does a pretty good job of supplying me with food. I don’t ask where she gets it, because I don’t want to know, but thank you. Thank you for everything. Of course, I may be back at your doorstep sooner than you think if I’m shunned out of town.” It was partly a joke, but mostly not out of the pure fear that lived inside of her.

—

“I understand the fear, I really do,” Monty offered empathetically, placing another hand over the top of the one Mack had given him. “But… you are protected somewhat by the denial of the law in this town. All the strange things that happen that they can’t explain.. just get brushed under the rug. Animal attacks. It’s always… animal attacks,” he almost laughed, refraining only because Mack was so understandably upset about the situation. “As for… hunters, well, that is a bit more tricky. But… if it offers you any comfort, I know there are people that would protect you from them. Myself included.” He wasn’t sure how useful he’d be in a fight with a slayer, truthfully, but there was always just the option of going for the throat. Of course he’d rather avoid confrontation if at all possible.

“And facing what you’ve done, well…” He had to pause to really think, realizing that he’d never actually considered how he himself dealt with it. He’d killed people before to be certain, and it always filled him with immense guilt. “That is… hard. You will carry it with you always. I suppose what I do… well, I just try to do as much as I can to make up for it. Which I can’t, but I can at least try to get close. Helping people, being selfless and caring and supportive… it’s all you really can do. Try to leave this world better than it was when it was handed to you. Does that… make sense?”

—

Of course he knew the fear. He had been living this life for a hell of a lot longer than she had. If anyone knew the ins and outs of being a zombie, it had to be him, “I have noticed that. I’ve been checking social media and news sites lately, and I was somewhat surprised. Have they always been this way?” Hunters? Mackenzie had totally forgotten about hunters. Considering she had unknowingly just faced one and survived. But she couldn’t put the people she cared about in danger to defend her from something, who she could probably fend off herself with all the training she had. “I can’t let anybody put themselves in danger for me. You included. Besides, I’m a black belt with weapons training. I think I can handle myself.” She gave him a soft smile.

It’s funny, because Alex had said the same thing just a few days prior. Helping people and trying to do good and be good. It had already been something she found enjoyment in, but now knowing that she was doing it to try and counteract the harm she had done seemed to dampen the enjoyment part. She didn’t want to live her life in debt because of the people she hurt, but she had to do something. Sitting at home alone wasn’t solving anything, and the more she was alone, the more her mental health took a toll, “Alex said something like that the other day. She came by. We talked. I just want to be a good person, and not hurt people.” She sighed, “Oh, and I drank your apple cider she brought you. It was good from what little I could taste. Sorry.” Her mood had lightened slightly by evidence of the few jokes she had been poorly making. “I guess I just have to figure out where I start, and I know that won’t come until I’m home, right?”

— 

“I suppose so… that’s what I hear, anyway. It must be why this place is such a haven for most supernatural beings.” While Monty wasn’t sure if he trusted that she could handle herself, simply because he’d seen the brutality that hunters were capable of, he decided to leave it be for the moment. That wasn’t what this conversation was about, and besides… confidence would get you far. Perhaps his concern was born more from being a coward, himself. Mack didn’t seem to be built like that. 

Her apology made him chuckle and he gave her hand a firm squeeze before letting it go. “Right,” he agreed. “It might help you to talk to someone about these feelings of guilt, someone more… qualified than I am to give advice. Of course… the details will have to be changed, but still. That is what Alan was for me, sometimes. Someone to talk to, someone to give me advice and help me get my head on straight. It was helpful.” He gave her a stern look and a nod of his head before adding, “Just do not let yourself become isolated. And if you feel that may be happening, well… you know you are always welcome here with us. You are not alone, mi amiga. Not anymore.”

[yaoiplug]

omg ew ew ew

[snowonthebeachmp3]

February 2016

Feb 11th - Kanye debuts his song Famous at his Yeezy fashion show. It contains the infamous lyric, 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex / Why? I made that bitch famous.' Gigi Hadid and Austin Swift are quick to express their disapproval. (x)

Feb 12th - Taylor's publicist Tree Paine releases a statement saying "Kanye did not call for approval, but to ask Taylor to release his single 'Famous' on her Twitter account. She declined and cautioned him about releasing a song with such a strong misogynistic message. Taylor was never made aware of the actual lyric, "I made that bitch famous.’" (x)

Ruby Rose condemns Kanye, tweeting, 'Too many lines crossed. If I put myself in the shoes of the women he has hurt recently. Victims of Bill Cosby, the slut shaming, Amber… And now my dear friend Taylor.. Right before another huge moment for her.. Can I still support him and call myself a feminist? A friend? No.' (x)

Kanye claims on Twitter that Taylor thought the lyric was funny and that she came up with it herself. He also claimed Taylor told a mutual friend over dinner that, 'I can't be mad at Kanye because he made me famous!' (x)

Sometime in the days leading up to the Grammys - Taylor's 73 Questions with Vogue interview is filmed in LA (it is not published until April, soon after her Vogue cover is released). In the video, she says she is currently busy 'working out and getting ready for Grammys' (presumably referring to rehearsals since she was the opening performer that year). (Update: turns out the interview was filmed on the 2nd Feb.)

Some other answers she gave in this interview:

What are you completely bored of in life right now? Clickbait.

What's your favourite food? I mean, if we're just saying, like, what I wish I could eat every day if calories didn't count, is like, chicken tenders.

What's one thing you still have from your childhood? My insecurities.

What's something you've always wanted to try but you've been too scared to do? Coachella.

What advice would you give to anyone who wants to become a singer? Uh, get a good lawyer.

What's the one thing you wish you knew at nineteen? If I could talk to my nineteen-year-old self I'd just say, hey, you know, you're gonna date just like a normal twenty-something should be allowed to, but you're going to be a national lightning rod for slut-shaming.

What do you think is the most important life lesson for someone to learn? That karma is real.

Feb 15th - Taylor attends the 58th Annual Grammy Awards in LA. She opens the televised show with a performance of Out of the Woods (x) and debuts her Anna Wintour-esque bob (x).

After her performance, she is seen crying in the audience while Selena (her plus-one for the evening) comforts her. Apparently she is upset about missing a note while performing. (x) (video)

1989 wins Album of the Year, making her the first woman to win this award twice. In her acceptance speech, she references the situation with Kanye, saying, 'I want to say to all the young women out there, there are going to be people along the way who will try to undercut your success, or take credit for your accomplishments or your fame.' (x)

Taylor attends the Republic Records afterparty with friends and then-boyfriend Calvin Harris, who was not there for the awards show itself. (x)

In her 2020 documentary Miss Americana, Taylor had this to say about the 2016 Grammys: (x)

My life had never been better. I had won album of the year at the Grammys for a second time, which I never thought was a possibility. And I remembered thinking afterward, oh my god, that was all you wanted. Oh god, that was all you wanted. That was all you focused on. And you get to the mountaintop and you look around and you’re like, oh god. What now? I didn’t have a partner that I climbed it with that I could, like, high five. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to who could relate to what I was – you know? I had my mom. But I just wondered, shouldn’t I have someone that I could call right now?

Feb 16th - Calvin posts a photo of Taylor accepting her AOTY Grammy to social media with the caption, 'Congratulations to my beautiful girlfriend.' (x) I cannot believe this post is still up 💀💀

Taylor goes for lunch with Scott and Andrea at Cecconi's in LA. (x)

Feb 17th - Taylor is seen out shopping in Beverly Hills. (x)

The NME Awards take place in London at the O2 Academy. Taylor wins Best International Solo Artist but is not there in person. Instead, a pre-recorded video of her accepting the award is played at the ceremony. (x) Her outfit and haircut suggest that the video was filmed on the same day as her Vogue 73 Questions interview at her LA house.

Feb 19th - Taylor announces on Twitter that New Romantics will be the next single from 1989. (x)

She is seen getting off her plane in Reading, PA (x) and visiting her childhood home. (x)

Feb 20th - Taylor is the maid of honour at her childhood best friend Britany Maack's wedding in Pennsylvania. (x) She brings Vogue reporter Jason Gay with her, and he writes about the weekend for Taylor's Vogue cover story, published in the May edition. (x)

A few excerpts from that weekend (not published until almost two months later): (x)

Swift says she is ready to lie a little low. After the wedding, she will go to New York, where she will be spotted dining with her friend Lena Dunham, and then be seen a week later in Los Angeles with her brother, Austin, and her friend Lorde at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party. As for future plans . . . who knows? For the first time in years, Swift is not sure exactly what is next. She is very much OK with this.

So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift?

“I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.”

//

Because I’m a hopeless cheeseball, I can’t help asking: Being part of this wedding, does it make Swift think about being married some day? For the past year, she has been seeing the Scottish DJ-producer Calvin Harris. Harris is not here with her, but in early March, he and Swift will post cutesy notices on social media—his on Snapchat; hers on Instagram—commemorating the one-year status of their relationship. Soon after, both will post photographs of an idyllic, whereabouts-unknown vacation in the tropics, with ts + aw written in the sand. (Harris’s given name is Adam Wiles.)

“I’m just taking things as they come,” Swift says. “I’m in a magical relationship right now. And of course I want it to be ours, and low-key . . . this is the one thing that’s been mine about my personal life.”

//

“I think the world is so bored with the [Kanye] saga,” she goes on. “I don’t want to add anything to it, because then there’s just more.”

Feb 21st - Taylor donates $250,000 to Kesha after she loses her lawsuit against Dr Luke and Sony. (x)

Taylor goes to New York and visits the Vogue offices. (x) She also meets Lena Dunham for dinner. (x)

Feb 22nd - Demi Lovato tweets, 'Take something to Capitol Hill or actually speak out about something and then I'll be impressed.' The tweet is widely interpreted as shading Taylor following the news of her donation. (x)

Taylor is papped arriving at and leaving Milk Studios, a photography studio in NYC. (x) I think this was when they shot her Vogue cover (she wore a wig for the cover shoot and only bleached her actual hair in April when the magazine came out).

Feb 23rd - Kanye brings up the Famous controversy while onstage at 1 OAK nightclub in LA. He claims Taylor said “Ooh Kanye, I like that line!” when he told her about the line 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex.' “Then she won her award and said something completely different! She not cool no more. She had two seconds to be cool and she fucked it up.” (x)

Feb 24th - Taylor and Jack Antonoff go for dinner at the Maia restaurant in LA. (x)

Feb 28th - Taylor attends the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty in LA. (x) She is photographed with Lorde and Austin.

Intro // February // March // April // May // June // July // August // September // October // November

[cutegirlmayra]

Sonamy Prompt - Treat

Hello! Before I open my prompts back up, I wanted to write more of my own original prompt ideas! Please enjoy, and Commissions will open March 17th for all! (Not prompts! These are paid!)

Enjoy~

Prompt:

Amy’s hands lifted her up from her desk, the rebellion forces were still cleaning up the area from Eggman’s left behind robot trash, but Sonic’s cheery face on the screen made her even more anxious about joining them!

“OooOOOooohh,” she let out her iconic whimper as she shook her cute, bundled hands in small wiggles of envy, “But why can’t I go out and fight too?!”

“There, there, Amy! I promise you, you’ll have your time in the spotlight.” Sonic’s encouragement never failed to please her as his face shone on the communication line. He smiled down to her, clearing seeing how much she missed the battlefield. “Ever since we took down Eggman, you’ve been itching to get out of that dark, blocky room, right?”

“More than you know~” Amy sluggishly sank back down into her office chair, surrounded by metal and rock, she just wished to be useful on the other side of the screen, this time around! “Can’t you convince Knuckles to let me out?”

“Haha! No problem! I won’t even break a sweat.” he gave her a thumbs up. “But we really need you on communication lines right now. You’re a good organizer. Without you, I don’t think Knuckles would remember his lefts from his rights!”

She sighed as her head slumped against the cool steel where her control panel was. Her eyes batted slightly in her weariness, but she didn’t think he could see her that well, so she didn’t mind emoting just a tiny bit~<3

“Huh? Amy? You still there?”

Just as she assumed, she was out of sight from the camera and looked fondly up at him.

“...Just a little while ago...” she began, “I kept a silent dream in my heart... that you were still alive and well. Fighting the good fight, just somewhere far away from us...”

His expression changed and he held a more serious look, “Silent, huh..?” he then broke it and chuckled. “I was always fighting in my heart, Amy. Infinite just gave me a bit of a farther fight then I wanted.” he was mentioning his entrapment on the moon, which still stung at Amy’s core.

“Chaining you up? That’s like... a crime against nature.” She hugged her arms, sitting up again as her face came back into view for Sonic’s camera.

His face lit up at seeing her again, he seemed to not like that she was out of the shot for so long. “Yeah... It bit. Pretty hard. But I never worried about you all. I knew you could do it... even without me, I never once stopped believing in my team.”

Amy looked up as though melting at his gaze and swooning at his words as her body swayed a bit down, relaxing with a gentle glide into a new state of being.

She had missed this~ his calming presence and his kind, unbreakable spirit.

“Now, who does that remind me of?” She teased, wanting a little personal praise from her hero.

Her eyes darted away in a sneaky way, and Sonic gave her a sly look in return.

“Well, you’re not half bad yourself at keeping some faith and hope in these dark times, huh, Amy?” He played along, giving her jitters that sent a swarm of butterflies lose in her stomach. They seemed to migrate northward up to her chest, before fluttering to land on her cheeks, giving her a honey glow.

“I can’t resist you~” she admitted, placing her hands up to attempt to hide her blushing cheeks.

Sonic gave her a big grin, but his shyness got the better of him and he looked away, “Aw, come on, Amy... You make this too easy...” he seemed a little embarrassed now but that only made Amy even more overjoyed at his return.

“Ever since you got back, you’ve been really grateful for your friends... You even went so far as to spend individual time with everyone.” she ducked her chin down slightly, a desperate plea in her eyes for him to remember. “I’ve been kinda wondering... if I go out on the battlefield again... will I also receive that special, limited Sonic time?”

“Huh?” Sonic refocused himself back to the screen, having scratched his nose with an awkward look of giddy pride in making her day, but now he seemed to be pleasantly surprised by her statement. “I hadn’t really noticed I’ve been doing that... Guess I just missed everyone and our adventures together.” He gave her a wink, “Sure thing, Amy! I think your time with me is far past overdue!”

She covered her mouth, “You mean it..? Really!?” she was overwhelmed with springtime in her heart, feeling the butterflies suddenly launch off again and this time, fly over fast winds as flowers bloomed all along the insides of her skin. It was a warm sun, her heart, and it was all thanks to Sonic’s sunshine.

He seemed to notice this, a sudden, unconditional joy in her. “Gosh, Amy. You really do make me feel like-...” He stopped himself, but then huffed a bit through his nose to look down from the camera, closing his eyes. “Ah, nevermind. That’s just the hero-worship talking, right?” He looked back up, “Don’t get too excited, it’s not a date or anything...” he looked away, “Yet...” he muttered, “Knowing you, I suppose you would count it as ‘alone time’ away.” he sighed. “Alright, call it what you want, but I can’t help and be a little excited to see ya. In the flesh again, this time.” he cut off the communication.

Her eyes blinked as her hands came down from her head leaning on them in doting pleasure. But now... it seemed that his words weren’t adding up. “Hero Worship? Oh, Sonic... It’s you I can’t help but want to marry... poor guy~” she spun in her chair, leaning back in it. “He thinks its because he’s such a hotshot hero that I can’t resist him... But this next time we’re alone together-!” she jumped from her chair, looking more determined than ever. “I’ll prove to him with my love that no matter what hedgehog he chooses to be! I’ll stand by his side no matter what!” she punched the air a few times, then summoned her hammer and started swinging wildly, “Hyah! H’up! Hyahhh!” she seemed overly jazzed about the idea of fighting alongside Sonic, getting time for just them two~<3

Daydreams occupied most of her mind that day... but the day dragged on... and soon, she became overly exhausted and that beautiful, wonderful springtime slowly drifted into the late hours of the night.

The butterflies became slow-moving fireflies against the dark landscape of her inner-emotions. They flickered, like her fleeting moments of energy where she’d find herself dozing off and having to slap her cheeks twice to keep herself awake. They gently grazed against the flowers who once shook in mighty winds of ecstasy. But the moonlight coming from her eyes watching Sonic’s communication line streamed down a blue hue that gave her some hope.

“Soon, Amy Rose. Don’t fear.” she comforted herself, realizing she hadn’t heard from Sonic in hours. She leaned back up, checking the other lines and seeing everyone was still on their calculated routes and missions, doing fine and not needing her instruction or to be the middle man in their planning.

“Sonic’s here now~” she cooed, lightly skimming the buttons before reaching her own hand.

Another daydream... what if her hand was Sonic’s hand? What if... ever so gently he...

She lifted her hand and tried to hold it, then smiled weakly and squeezed it. She laughed, kicking up her feet in her excitement and getting a rush of energy again, like a frog leaping into the stream of her nerves.

“Ahh, haha! Okay! Just work through the night! You’ll be out on the field with Sonic in no time!” she once again pressed the palm of her hands against her cheeks, light pats, and then narrowed her sights upon the dull work schedule she had for herself... currently, anyway.

The next day.....

A flat line on Sonic’s communication channel.

Amy was fast asleep at the wheel, so to speak.

However, Sonic was striding into base with a howl of cheers for him. The forces were stoked to have their trademark hero back, and better than ever! He was planning to leave the base soon in search of where Eggman had gone, but until then, he continued down the building of praising fans, hopeful recruits, and squealing girls.

He waved a bit, just living it up, before Knuckles shook his head beside him. “You really let the fame get to your head, don’t’cha, Sonic?”

“Fame? Fortune? What are we talking about?” Pretending to be spacey about it, he noticed a young child run out of the crowd and hand Sonic a piece of paper and pen. The poor thing huffed and puffed, probably having fought through the whole crowd to get to him, and clearly had been rescued from some of the surviving towns and cities.

He smiled warmly and took the items, combining them to create his unique signature, and ruffled the kid’s head before handing him back the new treasure. The child gasped, as though amazed his plan had actually worked, hugged the piece of paper with Sonic’s name scribbled carefully onto it, and took off back into the crowd.

Knuckles couldn’t complain at that, he just watched with a frown, knowing he shouldn’t give Sonic such a hard time after being tortured and gone for so long.

Sonic just watched after the kid, then seemed to nod about a hidden thought.

‘I might be okay having a kid.’ He thought to himself before stretching, ‘Eh, some day.’ he seemed to be shrugging the thought off as quickly as it came, disregarding it as he turned to look back at Knuckles.

“Ah, speaking of which... Hey, Knuckles? Think Amy deserves a bit of a vacation?”

Knuckles seemed shocked by his words, “Speaking of? You didn’t say anything!”

“Ah, I was meaning too.” He kid, putting a hand up to his chin and acting up, “I vaguely remember you saying it was about time she got back into the sunshine. Looking a little pale, maybe?”

“Did I say that..?” Knuckles looked off to the side, doubting himself as Sonic’s ear twitched and a mischievous, trickster grin replaced his once ‘contemplative’ expression.

“Well, sure!” Sonic slung an arm around him, “You even mentioned you felt bad about keeping her cooped up in that underground bunker, working night and day on a computer, for so many long... strenuous... hard hours...”

The acting should have won Sonic an award. At least an Xbox achievement: Duped the Knuckles, yet again.

“Yeah... yeah, she has been working overtime!” Knuckles was easily convinced this was his own words, straight from his own--not oblivious, but totally considerate and aware of people’s needs--heart.

Bless him, he just didn’t know.

“She’s usually so cheery, I should have known better.” Knuckles seemed a bit down about it, so Sonic cheered him up.

He lightly nudged his side, “You did know better...” He winked in his sly deceptions.

“Oh yeah! I did!” Knuckles instantly beefed up his chest and stood tall and proud, “I mean, as the leader, I have to think of everything! Ah, but... who will lead communications if I let Amy go? And where would I send her too..? Hmm...” he put himself into a ‘thinking’ stance, but Sonic smiled fondly to his friend, leaning behind his head so he didn’t see his mouth move.

“I should let Amy go with Sonic.” Sonic whispered, then pretended to whistle in front of Knuckles.

“Ah! I should let her go out on the field, with you, Sonic!” he punched Sonic’s side, moving his looped arm off of him as Sonic looked around as though amazed by this statement.

“Who? Me?” He gestured to himself. “I guess... with you at communications... I’ll be down one man...”

“That’s right! I’ll work communications, and Sonic-” He put a hand to his shoulder, as Sonic continued his innocent game face. “...Give Amy the time she needs. She deserves it.”

Sonic formed an ‘o’ with his mouth, “Gee, Captain Knuckles, I’ll try.” he put his hand to his chest, crossing it over his heart. “I-I won’t let you down, sir!”

“That’s the spirit!” Knuckles patted his back, boasting a hard-hitting laugh. “I’m a genius! That only took a second to figure out!”

“You’re the cleverest man I know, besides Tails, Sonic.” Sonic smirked off to the side.

“Huh?”

“What? I said Knuckles? Didn’t you hear me?” He lightly patted Knuckles’s head, confusing him, before he took off towards the communication room, still waving for the public.

When he opened the door, he could barely contain his excitement, “Long time no actual see, Amy!”

His face then dropped.

Her limp body suddenly rose in a steady beat of a breath, before descending even deeper into her slumber. Her arm dropped off the side and dangled as she was almost close to falling off the chair and counter too.

His eyes scanned her a moment, then the screen, seeing it completely silent on his channel.

His huge grin softened to an empathic smile, and he slowly moved the door to open wider, not bothering to shut it behind him as he was going to daringly rescue her from this awful fate.

He walked up to her with purpose, but as softly as a prince, began to lift her up and carry her bridal style.

“Emm...” She began to stir, and he just politely waited on held breath for her to recognize him.

She blinked her eyes wearily open, and a restrained gasp of awe came out delicately from her tired being. “Sonic..?” Her features fawned in quiet longing. “Am I dreaming again?”

“Only every minute of every hour that ticks by that cruel clock’s glow.” He gently shook his head in a teasing manner, then looked with a bit of a harsh coldness towards the office clock that glowed bright red letters to show the time. “...How long have you been trapped in here, Amy..?” He seemed to get antsy himself, just standing in the dull, lifeless room.

“Sonic..! I missed you... You promised...” Her hand lightly moved up to his cheek, which pulled his momentary distraction back to her, giving her his complete and full attention. “You have to... keep those...”

“At all cost.” his eyes lowered as his head tilt, trying to hold on to her slipping hand as she fell back to sleep. “Oh... Amy...” He sighed out, looking around and getting more and more upset at how long she must have been doomed to work in here.

“...Let’s blow this joint, before I start getting angry.” Sonic joked, but there was a bit of a grumble in his voice that spoke some truth to that comment.

When Amy woke up, she amazed to see that everyone was gathered in the meeting room. She lazily looked up to see that Sonic had placed her ontop of where he sat, letting her lean on his shoulder and chest as she must have taken a well-needed nap on accident.

She blushed as she noticed they were in front of everyone, and Sonic nonchalantly kept up the conversation while having her placed there in his chair.

His arms flopped around, as was his usual style when talking, and when Silver seemed to notice her awake, he smiled to her with a light smile and nod.

Her face like flushed with the red wings of butterflies.

This was... bold for Sonic.

“Then it’s settled.” Knuckles clasped his hands together, wiggling them tighter into place as he seemed to be settling on something she had missed in the conversation. “Tails and I will handle things here. He’s still trying to find out more about alternative dimensions like the one Other Sonic came through. Shadow and Silver will meet up at Blaze’s portal, try and get a reading on how she got here for Tails. Sonic and Amy will lead the Forces and search for Eggman.”

“Not for long, though.” Sonic chimed in, making her slightly turn her head, but trying to disguise the fact that she was awake and attentive now. “I think I’m gonna split after this.”

Her heart dropped. Like the last note at an opera where the chandelier falls onto the stage...

He can’t mean that.

Knuckles dropped his head a moment, “Alright. Last mission then.” Knuckles looked off to the side, then flicked his nose with a slight sniff. “But we could really use you here, pal.”

“I know. But you can use me better with what I naturally do.” Sonic instinctively moved a hand that had been helping hold Amy up beside him and wagged it around like his signature style. “Saving the world my own way. Don’t forget that now, Captain Knuckles.” He lightly joked.

Shadow scolded Sonic a moment but left it at that since Sonic kept cracking out smart-aleck comments and not taking anything seriously anymore.

He raced out of the room with Amy in his arms still and headed for the craft that would hold their men in it.

“...What about... your promise?” She knew he probably had seen that her eyes were open and she was awake, but she was too torn up inside to really have said anything until now.

He looked down as though without a worry in the world, “You act as though this is goodbye. You know I hate those.” He kid again, moving his head up to hers a moment to get her spirits back.

It was a light touch of their cheeks meeting briefly, but it was still enough to get her to smile and giggle again.

“So... I can still be with you? When you leave?”

He didn’t say anything, just jumped from a high place and seemed to glide through the air to the top of the craft.

Once onboard, he headed to the ship’s main control room and noticed Tails fast at the wheel.

He set her down on a couch behind, since the room was modeled to be a captain’s courters as well, and began small talk with him.

Annoyed that they weren’t ‘alone’ like she thought Knuckles had said, she placed her shoulders square, hands in her lap, and pouted in silence. Seeping with fury, she was surprised to see Sonic not even look at her as he came over to the couch.

“-which is why I feel you weren’t meant for ground-control, Tails.” He suddenly sat down and put an arm around Amy.

‘...Hold up.’ She narrowed her eyes at his actions. ‘Is he really thinking this is enough?’ she nudged him away, flicking her head away from his stuck-up being and huffed angrily.

She didn’t know how he was reacting to it until she felt something flop across her lap.

Gasping, she saw him carrying on the conversation with Tails, a hand up to hold up his head, and his body laid out across her lap.

Her face exploded with red lava upon her cheeks, but he acted as though nothing was wrong.

One hand was relaxing on his hip, angling his elbow up, and one leg was also up as though his typical ‘I’m just chilling here’ expression.

When she continued to battle against his ridiculous idea of ‘being together’ he finally stopped his conversation with Tails and scooted down, laying his quills to the side so his head was now on her lap, staring up at her without poking holes into her.

“And as for Amy and me-” he began, this time, giving her a straight look right through her eyes and into her soul. “We’ll be out and about for a while. Sound good, Tails?”

Tails just sighed, “You’re being inconsiderate of her feelings, Sonic... She clearly doesn’t want you toying with her like this.”

Amy puffed up her cheeks. That was the word! Toying with!

If he intended to keep his promise, he should just take her on a real date! Of course, she wanted to swing her hammer again, enjoy the nice warm air and help the rebellion fix up the place... but at least do it like you mean it!

She shoved him off her lap, causing him to tumble before getting up and huffing away.

“Ouch...” Sonic rubbed his chest a second, getting up before tapping his head where he felt a slight ‘bump’ coming through. “I thought she’d think of it as a treat.”

He dusted himself off, hearing her slam the door. It made him flinch, but he rolled his eyes and got up. “What’d I do this time?”

“Well, your actions were what she’s wanting, Sonic... but your timing couldn’t be more off.”

Amy clasped her hands together outside the door again, mimicking her daydream of them holding hands.

‘You’re not meaning it.’ she told herself, leaning against the door with a sorrow that seemed to make her inner spring rain. ‘If you do something like that... do it because you want to be with me, not because you’re planning to leave me... not again... I don’t wnat to be alone!’

She suddenly glared and turned around, about to swing the door open but Sonic had already done so, making her stumble into his arms.

He smiled at the pleasant surprise.

She looked up from her face being squished against his chest, blinking innocently.

“You’re totally right, Tails,” Sonic called back, though Tails was unaware of the situation as he drove the large ship.

“Huh?”

“She does deserve more of me.” he gave her a mischievous grin. “I’ll just Amy to the location where the abandoned Eggman fleet is attacking myself. Don’t wait up!”

He scooped her up with one arm, draping her over his shoulder in one fell swoop, and jumped off towards the ground in seconds flat.

While screaming on the way down, she felt Sonic grab one of her flailing hands, intertwine their fingers together, and land with her in a charming dip.

“Shall we save the rest of the world?” It was enough of an apology to get that he really just wanted to make her happy, and didn’t realize how it was coming off to her.

The gushing of affection for him flowed like a dam breaking loose, and she leaned up to embrace him from the dip, holding on tightly this time.

Even if he was going to leave soon... it wasn’t forever, and this time... he was making time for her and her alone.

“I really can’t resist you... Sonic The Hedgehog!!!”

“Oh good! Cause you’re a lot cuter when you’re happily swooning over me than being mad at me.” he lightly returned the hug the best he could, but there was some awkwardness to him again.

Shy? Already?

And she had hoped those days were gone but...

She giggled, moving away but lifting her arms to be around his neck.

“And you’re cute when you’re shy, too. Sonic~ But-!” she quickly put her fingers to his mouth, “Maaaaybe keep the ‘bold new Sonic’ just between us two~” she flicked his nose as rascally as she could and with a wink, she confidently trailblazed ahead of him.

He was left blinking and looking after her.

“Wow!” he shook his head and smiled, racing to scoop her up and carry her off again. “You don’t change!” he laughed.

(this is between the ending of Forces and before the beginning of IDW comics ;)b where he leaves and then they reunite again)

[justicealwaysprevails]

undercurrents.

WHO: Bruce Wayne (@justicealwaysprevails) and Wanda Maximoff (@chaos-hexes) WHERE: Le Mont-Saint-Michel WHEN: Backdated to January 17th, 2021 WHAT: Bruce and Wanda take a much needed vacation.

WANDA: Wanda was honestly overtaken with anticipation at the notion of a whole week alone with Bruce and away from Star City. She wanted to see how he would change. Would he different with the sun in his golden hair and his eyes washed brighter with the reflection of the sea. They had only had each other in the ominous stone trappings of Star City where some new drama could steal his attention at any time. She wanted to feel him breathing.

Her mouth hung open and her large amber eyes were wide as she took in the crisp and pristine marble of the foyer. “Oh Bruce,” she breathed, hand letting her suitcase fall to the floor as she did a slow turn, the motion barely picking up the scarlet chiffon of her dress’s hem. “It’s beautiful.”

BRUCE: Bruce had a spotty history when it came to taking vacations. He didn't take often. When he did, he had a habit of not actually vacationing, if such a thing were even a verb, and typically cut the time short the second he had an excuse. Promising Wanda a true vacation was substantial, but he wasn't going back on his word. This was something she deserved; at this point, he was willing to believe they both deserved it.

Her amazement made him smile. This had been the home his mother painstakingly decorated after his father purchased it for her - consequently, it was the one he visited the least, but he didn't regret his decision to stay here. It was worth it to see Wanda look so happy. Leaving their suitcases by the stairs, he gently took the back of her elbow. "My mother spent every summer here. It was her favorite place to visit. Would you like a tour?"

WANDA: Reaching out to take his hand, Wanda looked up at him. “After you show me our room,” she responded. “We need to put our things up there.”

Reaching up with her free hand, Wanda laid a gentle touch to his cheek. “Is there a view of the ocean?” She asked. “A place to watch the sun rise or set?”

BRUCE: There was only one room with a view of the ocean. It wasn't the room Bruce typically spent the night in, but he'd already phoned ahead to ensure the mansion would be ready to receive visitors. He'd specifically ask that all rooms be made ready. Originally, he'd intended to have Wanda decide, but her question made him wonder why he hadn't anticipated the answer on his own.

"Yes." He covered her hand against his face, fingertips pressing against the side of her wrist. "It's this way." Taking both bags, he led the way up the winding staircase. The bedroom was the master and the bed faced a set of large glass doors leading out to the portico. It had a perfect and unobstructed view of the ocean.

WANDA: The room was beautiful, and Wanda was spellbound yet again. The elegance of it all coupled with the wide and open beauty of the clean baroquism was enough to have her smiling.

But... a room this grand could only be the master bedroom, and the master bedroom was where his mother must have slept. His father. Her expression turned serous. Respectful. Carefully, her hand extended to rest on one of the columns of the canopy bed. She could already envision the curtains wrapped around them and shutting out the world. It was a wonderful room, but she only hoped it didn’t interrupt the sanctity of their memory. “Are you sure?” She asked him, looking over her shoulder before turning to him. Her hands came to rest on his chest. “Is it...okay?” Her eyes watched him, intent on any single tiny indication or change in his expression. He was excellent at hiding, but she was just as good at seeing.

BRUCE: There was a time when Wayne Manor had been closed up like a museum, half of it shut away from everyone but Alfred, who had earned the right long before Bruce could call it his own. That was something he thought would preserve his parents' memory.

However, the thought of the room being closed away to rot didn't feel right. He was reminded of that tug at his conscience standing in this room, a room that had known more joy than most people would have in their lifetime, and he nodded. He reached up to cover her hands again, a gesture that was instinctive in his need to reassure. "Yes, I'm sure." She knew what room this was. He didn't even wonder why she was asking. Sometimes he was half-convinced Wanda was also a telepath; she had an uncanny way of reading him that took most people several years to master. Even Clark still struggled. "This room shouldn't be left in the dark."

WANDA: The sun had already set outside by the time they arrived, and his words sent a swell through Wanda’s chest as she felt her magic stirring under her skin. Around them, warm fairy lights conjured from nothing began to twinkle, bathing the room in a golden glow. “Then we will fill it with light, Ozi,” she told him softly. She knew how special Bruce’s parents were to him. How important their memories were. For him to offer her the chance to write new ones was not a small thing.

Looking up at him with so much bare affection in her eyes, Wanda stepped so close that their bodies shared heat. Her hands slid out from under his hands to slide up his chest. “Can we go for a nighttime swim? I want to feel the warm air.” She wanted to see him doing something fun, but in the comfort of the shadows he had gotten so used to hiding. Baby steps.

BRUCE: Wanda's magic had a way of putting him at ease. It was normally something he would have been more mindful of, at least enough to take notice and maintain a clear head. However, it was getting easier to simply allow himself to experience it. It wasn't typical for him. In the beginning it had been uncomfortable, but he'd adapted and given in to its warmth. He found immense comfort in her presence even without it - it seemed to be innate to her, and was largely what attracted him to Wanda in the first place.

Bruce had never been the type of person who showed his feelings on his sleeve. He wasn't used to such open displays of affection, aside from when Dick was a child, and there were times he felt deficient. "Of course. The pool has been cleaned." The suitcases were in front of the ridiculously large closet. "Or did you mean the ocean?"

WANDA: Wanda didn’t need Bruce to be so tactile. She merely needed him to not hurt her. To care for her and to stay. These things, she believed more and more that Bruce would do. She didn’t need Bruce to change. Merely to relax.

“Well I had meant the pool, but is the beach private?” A sweet little half smile tinged with mischief painted her lips. “I don’t want to share you tonight, Bruce. If you’re amenable.”

BRUCE: "The beach is private." The land had its own beach access. Bruce's parents had been private, although not nearly to the same extent. When they were on vacation, rare because Bruce was not unlike his father, they didn't like to be disturbed either. "More than amenable," he said with a slow smile, his hand tightening around her own. "In fact, I insist."

WANDA: His smile made her heart flutter and her stomach tighten as she lifted his fingers to kiss his knuckles. “Let me change, then,” she told him. “I’ll meet you down by the water?”

BRUCE: He nodded. "Follow the path down. It should be lit." The grounds were sprawling, even in such a small location, and the landscape arranged in such a way that there didn't seem to be anyone around for miles. That hadn't been an accident.

WANDA: She took her time putting on her suit, braiding her long hair into a plait down her back so the sea air didn't puff it up. Doing up the lace on the front of her suit, she finally stepped into the warm night air and made her way down to the beach. As she reached it, she didn't see Bruce at first and her eyes slipped closed. For a moment, she stood on a cliff face in Wundagore, the sound of the waves upon the rocks only just louder than her family caravan a few hundred feet away.

The wind blew up the ends of her hair and she let out a sad little sigh as the sound of Marya's voice in her head had her unwilling to open her eyes so she wouldn't see something that wasn't there. "Bruce?" She called softly.

BRUCE: The beach wasn't large or ostentatious, but that had been the point. Martha had imported a special soil that felt more like sand instead of the pebbles that had been there before. He could still remember how it felt under his feet, even though it'd been years since he'd made use of the beach here. This time he knew better. He'd come prepared.

He'd been obscured by the side of a steep boulder, but was in her line of sight seconds after she called his name. "Come see." There was a rare lightness in his voice that made the lines by his eyes appear less deep. The lack of exhaustion took years off of him. "Watch your step."

WANDA: When she heard his voice close, Wanda grounded herself in it before finally opening her eyes and trusting herself to look up. There he was. And he was smiling. Lighter. So beautiful in the pale light of the moon. Reaching out, she caught his hand before holding onto it as he guided her. "What are we looking for, ozi?" She asked him.

She liked this Bruce. The one that seemed less heavy. That had memories to show her. He was a person. She loved Bruce in all iterations, but she worried about him often. Here, perhaps she could let a little of that go.

BRUCE: Bruce's exterior was hard because it had to be. He'd worn Bruce Wayne like a costume for so many years that finding a balance between the two had always been difficult. Those who knew him would say that Bruce Wayne was the mask. Those who truly knew him would disagree. He had always been both. The difference was accessibility. Wanda had managed to bypass the distance he'd strategically placed between himself and everyone else. When it came down to it, he allowed her to see him because she wanted to, and because he knew it would be the only way to know her.

Taking her hand, he helped her navigate the slippery rocks bordering the shore. On the other side, the sand faded into pebbles at the mouth of a cave. "You can't go too far. I came down here a lot when I was a kid."

WANDA: She looked into the cave with curiosity, cocking her head as she kept her fingers in Bruce's. "What's in there?" She prompted. "Untold memories of your boyhood adventures?" Wanda was playful, adapting easily to the energy he was giving off to her. It was a good sort of energy. And Bruce let her in, which she knew was immensely difficult for him. She never took it for granted and she wouldn't.

"Will you protect me in the dark?" She asked with a very Serious expression that was all gentle humor in her eyes.

BRUCE: It had taken years for Bruce to discuss his childhood with anything but heaviness and anger. Discussing it with Wanda felt natural, even though it had taken time for him to get there. Discussing his past in general wasn't something he was prone to do, let alone the subject of his parents, but Wanda was different. She'd been different before too, which was part of why the relationship ended.

"Not quite," he said, his hand dropping to rest against the small of her back. "As I said, it's been many years. But I did bring a flashlight if you're curious." He offered her to her, still with the same faint smile. "Of course, and I happen to be quite comfortable in caves." As if to illustrate the point, he pulled her close against his side, his hold strong enough to nearly lift her off the ground. Amused, he reached down to brush a piece of hair off of her forehead. "Or... we could skip an excursion and stick to the shore." He nodded down the coastline. "Then we could take that swim."

WANDA: "I want you to show me where you adventured," she bade him simply. She wanted that insight to his mind. His childhood. If that meant exploring  a cave, then that's what it meant. She wasn't afraid of the dark or anything of that nature. There were things far more frightening in this life, weren't there?

"So lead the way, Ozi." As she said it, she took the flashlight and leaned into his side, feeling the strength of him and the hard lines of his body as he kept her close. "I'm not afraid."

BRUCE: There were things Bruce knew about himself without having to be told, although he’d heard it enough from his kids, and he was aware of his tendency to control situations whenever possible. He was doing his best not to be that way with Wanda. Wanda, who - in her effervescence and compassion - was different than anyone he’d ever known. She’d endured more than most, but still managed to come back. When he looked at her he saw strength.

Nodding, he slid a strong arm around her back, allowing her to lean against him as they stepped into darkness. The cave was narrow enough that the light didn’t leave any dark corners, but it was impossible to see the end. “I liked how quiet it was,” he said, watching the light bounce up the jagged rock wall. There was a pause before he continued. “They weren’t like me. They didn’t like the house to be too still.”

WANDA: As they walked, she listened to him speak. Bruce's voice was strong and calm, but also pulled back. Like he couldn't give away too much, even just talking. It gave her all the more reason to pay attention.

"When you were a little boy, even?" She asked him. She often wondered what Bruce was like as a child. She'd never really get to know, but she would take what he told her.

BRUCE: "Even then." It made him smile that Wanda would find that surprising. Bruce had been a quiet child, serious, and had taken after his father in that respect. His mother had been softer; she didn't shy away from touch.

Their deaths had changed him, but not in the way people would expect. "We're reaching the end." The beam of light finally reached the jagged pile of rocks - a cave-in that prevented them from going any further. "It's always been closed off."

WANDA: That smile... like it was conspiratorial in a way. Like he was telling her a secret. It made her heart thump in his chest when he smiled. Always.

"It's beautiful in a way," she said. "Quiet and final. The dark isolates us from everything else in the world." Was that why Bruce liked the Night?

BRUCE: "Yes." There was chalk on the walls, tiny signs that Bruce had been there years ago, and even a dusty, corroded Rubik's cube. He captured her chin between two fingers and kissed her softly. "I do not mind being isolated with you." That was unlike how he'd been with anyone before. When Bruce withdrew, it was to be completely alone.

WANDA: Could he feel the way her breath picked up whenever he got close to her? She had to imagine he could. He noticed everything. Still, her lips were pliant for his and her arms wrapped around his neck to push herself closer. "Then stay isolated with me," she breathed in the space between their lips. "Just for now."

BRUCE: As she moved, he adjusted with her and wrapped his arm around the small of her back. Even in this moments he was never unaware of her power, but all thoughts were pushed aside in favor of this moment - a kiss that started off soft, reassuring, and then inevitably deepened.

WANDA: Wanda could lose herself in moments like this. Even alone in the dark of a beach cave, she felt safe. Like he wouldn't hurt her or leave her alone. Bruce had accepted her into his heart, even if he was still trying to fully open it. And she had seen the kinds of things he could survive. The things she hadn't seen, she had heard of. Maybe Bruce Wayne was the man who was strong enough to love her. To stay. Not like Vision, who hadn't loved her and hadn't stayed. Not like Simon, who had loved her but couldn't stay. Maybe Bruce would do both. If he did, she'd give him everything. Anything she could manage.

Pulling back from their kiss, Wanda rested her head against the thump of his heart and let her eyes slip closed so she could feel it against her cheek and focus on nothing else. "I love you, Bruce." They had only said it once or twice now. But Wanda wanted to tell him always. He deserved to hear it over and over until it lived in his head.

BRUCE: Although they were alone - and on vacation, no less - there would always be a part of Bruce that maintained a hyper-vigilance to what was going on around him. He had difficulty fully relaxing in any moment, but he still came close with Wanda. The ability to quiet his thoughts and singular purpose was something he'd never been able to do, not even for his own children, and he knew it was one of many reasons for their resentment. He didn't want his relationship with Wanda to have that same bitterness. It was why he'd brought her here: to show her that he could and would turn away from the world even for a few minutes.

The slight weight of her head on his chest made him exhale softly. His hand found the back of her head, fingers threading through her thick hair. "I love you, too." The words came without hesitation, instinctively, as if they'd been saying them for years.

WANDA: It made her shiver to hear him say it back, just like it had the first time. Looking up at him, she smiled gently. She couldn't keep the affection from her face even if she tried, which she didn't. Instead, she let their hearts beat together before reaching down to tangle her fingers with his. "Do you want to stay in the cave?" She asked him, turning away to run her fingers over one of the faded chalk drawings. "Or should we see the moon next, Ozi?"

BRUCE: "I think we've had enough of the dark." They'd come out here to swim and this had been a brief detour. Bruce guided her gently away from the doodling on the walls and back in the direction of the cave's entrance. It was minutes later that they stood on the beach again, the waves lapping the shore. "Do you still want to swim?" He'd dressed for it. The moon was large and the sky was clear, the air cool but not unbearably so.

WANDA: The sand was soft beneath her feet as she let the sea breeze dance over her skin again. "This reminds me of back home. Just a little bit. The smell. Wundagore isn't beachy. But there was a cliff face there. We traveled all over the country, but that cliff face was so beautiful. It looked out on the sea and when it stormed the wind whipped so hard." As she spoke, the wind picked up around them and her scarf fell from her hair to lay at their feet so the thick black locks picked up in the new gusts.

Her voice was even and steady. Gentle and soothing. "The ocean was grey then, which white caps. If you stood right at the end of it, near the ledge enough, the wind and the waves combined would blot out all sound and all you could feel was earth.'

Her fingers stayed curled with his as she brought him there. Not really. Just changed how it looked around them. Altered their private bubble in the world around them just so he could feel it with her. Inside his mind, she murmured, "That was my alone. It was the first time I felt the threads of reality and was are of how I could pull them."

BRUCE: As he listened to her speak, Bruce was able to picture what she described clearly. It was easy to imagine Wanda there because of the natural way she merged with the image in front of him. The dark waves and the salt in the hair set the scene, and the wind that picked up her scarf and started its tumble down the beach was at home in her hair.

He realized the world was shifting around them, cross-fading into the image that'd been in his head. Silent, he took in the white foam and the glistening rocks on the cliff-side. She'd done this in the privacy of the manor before, altered their reality so they would have a place to call their own, but this was different. This belonged to Wanda and she'd allowed him in.

"It's beautiful." Bruce spoke aloud. Habit, perhaps, but his mind was also the most guarded thing about him. It had to be.

WANDA: "I don't think we go in tonight, Ozi," she told him simply, turning to look at him with a shy little smile. "I want to just sit with you on the balcony." She could make the wind blow as she rested up against him on the chaise there, warmed by his heat and a thick blanket over their lap. Talking. Sharing kisses.

"I hope that's okay," she said lightly. "You don't have to talk any more than you're comfortable with. But anything you do have to say, I'll hear." She would enjoy Bruce in any and all capacity that he may be there with her.

BRUCE: The last time he'd been swimming was in Gotham, a country club he'd only visited for the purpose of gathering information, and Bruce wouldn't have remembered the swim suit at all had Alfred not reminded him. As it was, he didn't mind putting it off for the evening. They would be here for an entire week. There would be plenty of time to swim.

"Of course." Tightening his hand over Wanda's, he took his time to lead her back up to the house. He'd left the sliding door open; the house was cool and the air no longer felt stuffy or stale. The futon only had pillows, but he brought a large blanket from the closet for her. It was warm during the day, but the ocean breeze at night could be chilly. January 29, 2021

WANDA: It was just where she wanted to be, pressed up against his side and leaning into his shoulder before letting out a slow breath. Her fingers tangled with Bruce's and she let her eyes slip closed for a minute, simply enjoying the closeness.

"I'm glad I managed to convince you to come," she told him with a little smile, looking up at him before reaching up to run the back of her hand over the curve of his cheek.

BRUCE: "It did not take much convincing." It wasn't just the timing. Wanda deserved this peace and tranquility; she'd had so little of it in her life. If he had the ability to give it to her, then he would without question.

Settling her against his shoulder, he was amusingly informal on the futon, one knee bent as his fingers trailed a delicate pattern on her knee. "You look like you belong here."

WANDA: "Do I?" She asked him playfully. "Do I strike you as an Island girl, Bruce?" The idea made her grin. She supposed she could look the part. Beach frizzed curls and sunkissed brown skin. She could assimilate here.

Bruce, for his part, looked out of place. For all that he was relaxed with her right now, his blonde hair and the permanently etched furrow in his brow spoke to belonging elsewhere. And she knew where it was. Still, to pretend with him was... perfect. "Do I match the moonlight on the sand, Ozi?"

BRUCE: "Yes," Bruce said simply, but his tone conveyed seriousness rather than matching Wanda's playful demeanor. "You move like the tide. Steady. Loyal. Underneath..." Bending his head, he kissed her directly below her ear. "You are powerful, wild, and intriguing. I don't think an entire lifetime will grant me the ability to know you."

It was the most he'd ever talked like that, the uncharacteristic softness even lingering in the gentle brush of his fingers through her curls.

WANDA: He made her sound mysterious. Something beautiful and good, but also something to watch. But it was so much better than being made out to be dangerous. She was, she supposed, but people had treated her like that for ages. Bruce just... didn't. He wouldn't. It mattered to her that he saw her like a woman and not like a, well, mutant who could harm him. Or who had harmed him.

"I'd give you the lifetime I have left," she told him softly, looking away as a thick shyness settled over her. "If you promise not to leave." She couldn't... she couldn't lose another love. Her heart couldn't take it. And comparing her others to Bruce... it was different. Markedly. Like he saw her and didn't shrink away. And he wasn't some wish fulfilment or a way to hide from the pain. He kept her on the ground, and she reminded him to float sometimes.

BRUCE: It went against Bruce's nature to disregard potential dangers. He knew Wanda, but what's more, he sincerely believed in her capacity to heal herself.  Her resilience was what made him believe she would overcome the reputation that still lingered. Perhaps it always would, but its role in her life would change.

When she looked away, he reached up to catch her chin in a gentle grip. He didn't want her to look away from him right now - not now, when she needed the reassurance more than ever before. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise," he said firmly. There was no hesitation, no tentative agreement with conditions, because he knew what he wanted. He knew better than to let it go a second time.

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Burn the Ships, Chapter Three

A/N: This is twice as long as the previous two but, hey...It was...sort of necessary, lol. And somehow I also managed to crank it out in half the time! *shrugs* lol. It’s also, like, 93% dialog I’m sorry, lol. ...I also feel like I should point out that it’s, like, 1:30 in the afternoon by this point in the story and it was, like, a little after 7:00 in the morning when Steve tasked him with this, so Jerry has had plenty of time to put this all together. :P

To any UK readers: It came to my attention while writing this chapter that Alex’s alias in Scorpia Rising is different between the UK and US editions. The UK edition has it as Alex Brenner, while they changed it to Alex Tanner in the US version. Why they would change that is beyond me, but they did. Since I’m American myself, I stuck with the US edition’s alias for this story.

. . . . .

Chapter Three

Steve took a deep breath as he stepped out of the elevator. He needed to find Alex; they had to talk about what happened, and he wanted to apologize for flying off the handle. When he’d gone back to the truck to find the kid gone, he’d panicked. His worry had manifested as anger, and he needed to make that right. But he also had to get Alex to understand that it wasn’t okay to put himself in harm’s way like that.

Rounding the corner, he pushed through the door into HQ and headed for Chin’s office. He paused outside the door; Alex’s back was to him, and Chin was focused on whatever he was saying, a smile on his lips. They were apparently getting on very well, and Steve was loathe to interrupt that, but all the same, he knew he’d have to eventually.

“Steve?”

He turned his head to find Jerry staring at him, leaning against the holotable. Ah, yes; the other reason he’d come back to the Palace. “Yeah, you get something?”

Jerry hesitated. “Yeah, and you were right that you probably weren’t going to like it.”

Steve sighed as he approached. “Alright. Let’s have it.”

“For the record, this is one conspiracy theory I’d hoped I would never prove.”

“Conspiracy theory?” He raised an eyebrow. Sure, they’d proved a couple of his theories true, and Jerry had certainly been helpful in numerous cases, but Steve wasn’t ready for him to reduce this kid to that just yet.

“Also for the record, it didn’t start out that way,” Jerry tacked on quickly.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “Fair enough. What’d you find?”

“Okay, well, I took the liberty of pulling security footage for the Place to get a photo to help, and then I ran him through missing persons like you asked. No hits. I thought at best, no one filed a report, and at worst, no one even noticed he was missing. Working under the assumption that he’s possibly in the foster care system, group homes are notoriously understaffed, after all, so either one would be plausible.

“Anyway, when I didn’t get a hit there, I moved on to the DOT. Interestingly enough, no hits there either -- not even a learners’ permit even though he told you he’s fifteen. But, again, not really unprecedented if he’s in the system.

“Next, I ran him through the UK’s database as well as the Department of State’s database to see if he has -- or ever had -- a passport. He had to get into the country somehow, after all. Now, brace yourself, because this is where it starts to get weird.” Jerry brought up a file on the holotable and flicked a set of images up on the screen. “Between the UK and here, I got a grand total of five separate passports.”

“And you’re sure they’re all the same person?”

“Facial rec confirmed it. These all belong to the same person.”

“So what are you telling me, Jerry? That this teenager has forged documents?”

“If they’re forges, they’re incredibly good as they all appear to be standard government issue.”

Steve took in the documents more thoroughly: British issues to Alex Rider, Alex Friend, and Alex Tanner; American issues to Alex Gardiner and...Alex Rider? “Wait -- there are two issued to the same person.”

“Right you are. I’ll come back to the whole ‘multiple passports’ thing later, but that was the lead I followed first, so. The British-issued one is the one that’s been used the most frequently and was invalidated this past July -- the same time the American one was issued. As it turns out --” Jerry swiped an image up on the screen of two sets of legal forms -- “he was also granted citizenship at that same time. Coincidentally -- or not so much -- that also happens to be when he was adopted by Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure of San Francisco, who are also former residents of England. According to the forward of his book on Damien Cray, they moved there after Mr. Pleasure was badly injured while on vacation with his family in the South of France. He also revealed that that attack was the result of the research he was doing on Cray. He moved his family to California for a fresh start shortly thereafter.”

“Okay, well that makes sense then. Did you reach out to them?”

“I would have, but that’s impossible.” Jerry pulled up a news article from September 17th, the black letters in sharp contrast to the white background: Three Killed in Car Bombing: Journalist Edward Pleasure and wife among the casualties. “Turns out they had a daughter as well, but she wasn’t with them; the third casualty was a by-stander. According to social services, she went back to England to live with an aunt and uncle, but Alex went into the system. He was in and out of foster homes, never staying in one place too long, until early November when he was sent to a group home in Sacramento. He was only there for about a week, though, before this guy --” he brought up a photo of a man with dark hair and darker eyes -- “showed up. Supposedly he’s still in this guy’s custody.”

“Possibly human trafficking?”

“Central Intelligence Agency, actually. His name is James Branning. Fifteen years of service to the CIA. Lives and works out of DC.”

“So -- what? They come out here for vacation and Alex somehow gets caught up in drug trafficking? I don’t buy it. Not to mention, what was this guy’s interest that he went all the way across the country just to foster a kid?”

“I agree with you, and I’m getting there. I did say there’s a conspiracy theory here, remember.”

“Right.” Steve gestured towards him with one hand. “Please, continue.”

“I ran those names against the flight manifests for all inbound flights from the DC area from November through yesterday. Surprise, surprise, I got no hits on either name. On a hunch, I ran Alex’s aliases through as well, and while there is no record of Alex Rider coming to Hawaii, there is an Alex Gardiner who arrived through Kahului Airport on Maui on December second. I pulled airport security footage for that day and found this.” Jerry brought up a still shot from said footage of Alex walking along next to a man who was clearly James Branning. “Branning came onto the island under the alias Mike Wingert, and given that they both traveled under an alias, I don’t think either of them were here just for a vacation.”

“Whoa, hold up, Jerry,” Steve interrupted, holding up a hand. “Are you trying to tell me that Alex is working for the CIA? Because you are aware of how crazy that sounds, right?”

“I know -- I do know how it sounds, but it all adds up. Look, I started off saying that I never wanted to prove this right, but… the teen spy out of MI6 has always been the most credible conspiracy theory out there for one simple reason: anything and everything relating to this disappears from the Internet within hours -- even on the dark web. You can talk about JFK and Area 51 and everything else you want, but not the teen spy from MI6 because it’ll disappear. Everything I had on this prior to today was from a few dedicated individuals willing to ship FedEx. I know it sounds crazy, but I honestly don’t think it is -- especially now.”

Steve sighed. He had to admit it was brilliant even if terribly unethical. No one would ever suspect a kid, after all. Part of him didn’t want to hear any more of what Jerry knew, but in the end, he said, “Okay. Help me understand it then. Tell me everything you’ve got on this prior to his arrival in the US.”

“Well, I won’t bother with everything,” Jerry admitted. “A lot of it is still just conjecture, but I will tell you about the stuff that’s most relevant.” He paused bringing out a newspaper clipping from a folder sat on the edge of the table. The photo was blurry but showed a person dangling from a parachute through the roof of the science museum in London. “This is where it all started. An unidentified individual broke through the skylight and shot both the Prime Minister and Herod Sayle.”

“I remember hearing about that. There was never a formal press release of any kind about what actually happened. There was speculation it was a terrorist group, but no one ever took credit for it.”

“And the high-tech Stormbreaker computers never launched. To this day, no one knows why.”

Steve frowned. “Okay, but why is this attributed to some ‘teen spy’?”

“Eyewitnesses. I mean, MI6 tried to tamp down on it obviously, but…” Jerry shrugged. “No one could confirm without a doubt that it was a kid but, like I said before, all the chatter disappeared within hours. We all knew then that clearly we were on to something or they wouldn’t be trying so hard to cover up any mention of it. So we all kept our eyes and ears open for anything else in the news that could prove our theory.”

Jerry pulled all of Alex’s alias passports up on the screen again as he continued. “All of these passports have something in common: they’ve all only been used once. That by itself is strange because there’s record of them leaving England -- or, in one instance, America instead -- but never returning. On top of that, the dates they were used all line up with major events that myself and my fellow theorists previously attributed to the Teen Spy. For example, Point Blanc Academy in the French Alps. It was exposed as being a cover for experimental cloning within weeks of Alex Friend’s arrival in France.

“And, according to his real passport, Alex was in France with the Pleasures when Edward was injured when their vacation rental exploded. Not too long after that, Damien Cray -- the very man he was researching and whom he himself revealed was the reason for the attack -- is killed in England aboard Air Force One while the president is having tea with the queen. Seems a bit too coincidental to me.

“Moving on from that --” he pulled out yet another newspaper clipping -- “we have the first ever space hotel -- the Arc Angel -- that explodes in orbit before its completion.  You wanna know who entered the US right before that happened with the guy who was funding that project? Alex Rider. And the next place he pops up is Australia only days after that -- only days after a pod is seen entering orbit immediately after the Arc Angel was decimated. Based on trajectory, that pod was estimated to set down somewhere in the Pacific. On top of that, I don’t know what he was doing there, but he didn’t get back to England for almost a month.”

“Gotta be honest, Jerry,” Steve cut in with a sigh. “Right now all I’m hearing is that this kid is well-travelled. Outside of the multiple passports that may or may not actually be his, you’ve got nothin’ solid.”

Jerry nodded once. “Yeah, I’ll give ya that, but this last one is a doozie, so hold onto your hat, Commander.” He pulled out another article, this one from only six months before.

“Back in July, the American Secretary of State traveled to Cairo, Egypt, to give a speech on education but never got to finish it because halfway through shots were fired inside the venue. But it didn’t stop there, and the firefight continued outside, in the midst of a traffic-jammed street. The only reason we know this is because of amauter phone camera footage taken from one of the cars. Thanks to my connections, I am one of the few people who has that footage. It was uploaded to YouTube but, just like everything else, was quickly removed. Before it was taken down, one particular person had the presence of mind to download it, so here we are.”

Jerry connected a USB drive to the table’s system and played the short video. It was unfocused -- the person recording jumping at every gunshot -- and blurry from the evident torrential rain, but the person crouched behind a car and firing at someone off-frame was unmistakably Alex. He turned from his cover and ran, dodging between stalled cars as the rain continued to pound down, and a second later, the person pursuing him appeared as he rushed passed the car.

Steve felt his jaw drop. “What the…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jerry continued as he disconnected the drive. “Remember how I mentioned he could have been involved with Point Blanc Academy? What if Dr. Grief had actually been successful in his attempts at cloning?”

“Because I currently don’t have a better explanation of...that, let’s just say that’s true. Why? Why would this supposed clone go after the American Secretary of State?”

“Because if Alex really was working for MI6 and someone pinned that assination on him and could prove he was working for MI6 at the time of the assination --.”

“It would have torn relations between us apart.”

“Exactly. I think the whole thing was a set up from the start.”

“I don’t know, Jerry --.”

“Don’t make a judgment call just yet. I have more you need to see.”

Steve rubbed wearily at the back of his neck. “Alright. Continue, then.”

“In all the hub-bub surrounding the failed assassination, most people would have overlooked this much smaller article that appeared in the same issue.” Jerry took out a small article from the folder, the headline reading American Killed near Siwa -- Local authorities still investigating. “Apparently the vehicle exploded, killing the woman driving instantly. We were never sure how exactly these two events were connected, but we were sure they were, so I thought it worth looking into further. I ran the name from the article, and it came up empty, but I thought if Alex was there under an alias -- which he was, by the way, under Alex Tanner -- then, if it’s connected, maybe this woman was too. So I looked for obituaries with the same date of death and found just one that fit the bill.” He put it up on the screen. “Meet the late Jack Starbright. According to the obituary, her parents are still alive and well living in DC, so I took the liberty of reaching out to them since there’s not much info here to work with. It took a bit of persuading, but they eventually told me about their late daughter.

“She went to London not quite ten years ago to study Law. In order to help make ends meet, she started looking for a job she’d be able to manage around her studies. She ended up answering an ad for a sort of live-in nanny-type thing. It was absolutely ideal because not only was it within a reasonable distance from campus, but room and board were provided and expenses covered on top of a modest paycheck. The man who offered her the position said he had to travel a lot for the bank he worked for and he needed someone to look after his nephew when he was away. That man was Ian Rider, and his nephew was Alex Rider.

“They went on to tell me that even after she finished her degree, she stayed at the Rider’s. She spoke very highly of them both, and Alex is the reason she never moved back to the States. When Ian died almost two years ago, that was just more incentive for her to stay so Alex wouldn’t be left alone.

“But here’s the kicker: I dug into it a little more after I hung up with them and found that, during that time between completing her degree and Ian’s death, her visa lapsed and wasn’t renewed until almost a month after Ian’s passing. On top of that, when it finally was renewed, it was permanent.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. If her visa expired, that means she was there illegally. They would have prosecuted her instead of granting a new one -- much less a permanent one.”

“And this is where my new and improved theory comes in.”

“I’m all ears, Jerry.”

“I don’t think Ian Rider was a banker like he claimed. I think he was a spy, too. He wasn’t killed in a car accident as his obituary states; he was killed on the job. The day he died and the day Alex parachuted through the skylight are barely a month apart. Based on that, I think whatever happened with those Stormbreaker computers is what got Ian killed, and his death is the reason Alex got involved. Moreover, they convinced him to do it by offering Jack a permanent visa rather prosecuting her. The visa situation had been previously overlooked because, of course, Ian knew the right people through his employer, so they just looked the other way until it was convenient not to. Alex, then, proved so useful that they kept finding ways to convince him to work for them.

“Then Cairo happened. Jack went with him for whatever reason and ended up dead. Between that and fighting someone with your face, the end result was probably pretty traumatic. Maybe they realized how unethical they were being, but more likely they realized he wouldn’t be bouncing back from that experience any time soon and decided it was better to let him go. Enter the Pleasures who offer to adopt him and give him a fresh start out in California. But then that goes sour, and he ends up in the system instead.

“Because he had an American alias prior to this, it’s possible that he had also worked for the CIA previously, so when he went into the system, they saw that as an opportunity. They sent an agent to take legal custody of him, and that brings us all the way up to this morning when the Coast Guard fished him out of the bay.”

Steve leaned back against the holotable, silent for a moment as he tried to process the last twenty minutes. “I gotta admit, that was a wild ride from start to finish.”

“Then you don’t think it’s true.”

“When we first met, yeah, I probably wouldn’t have bought a word of it. Now…” Steve trailed off with a sigh. “Now, I don’t know. It all sounds pretty crazy, but I feel like dealing with the crazy is kinda part of the job description at this point.” Steve pushed off the table and started back for Chin’s office.

“So what are you gonna do?”

Without missing a beat, Steve replied, “I’m gonna go find out the truth.”

. . . . .

Tag list: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @ghostly-homo 

(Let me know if you’d like added/removed!)

[hamlets-ghost-zaddy]

queen of peace

Part 6/10 Shifty Powers x Reader

“Many more New Year’s Eves to come.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

“Many more January 4ths to come.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

“Many more January 10ths to come.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

“Many more January 17ths to come.”

Shifty pauses, a smile hiding in the curl of his mouth, and he replies as he always does: “Thank you.” Whenever his hand finds yours as he pauses on his way out of sewing classes, as you go your separate ways after visiting with Margaret at the post office or hunkering in the tea shop to hide from the seeping later winter chill, his fingers squeeze a light pressure. You know he’s asking as politely as he knows how—without really asking, a pleading gleam lighting his eyes, instead—to assure him as you promised you would.

You hope your surprise doesn’t show now, your coat still on your shoulders, Shifty catching you in the middle of stamping snow from your boots after scuttling to your usual table in the tea shop to join him (in the back, next to the little bakery display case, long since vacated since the beginning of the war). He usually never reaches for your assurances when you first meet, instead wanting to savor it until leaving, perhaps to carry with him until he sees you again. You study his expression now, trying to keep the worry from your eyes, not sure if you’re successful.

“How are you?” you ask, shucking off your coat and putting it on the back of your chair quickly, hoping he won’t notice that the inside liner has been seam-ripped out. A nurse had placed an order for a new silk slip, and the only available silk was from the liner of your winter coat. It meant going cold, but it allowed you to buy milk to soften the dry bread ration, allowed you to put aside a little money for the water bill.

“I’m alright,” he replies, unconvincingly and you frown at him. Neither you nor Shifty have articulated it—and you’re grateful for it—but something has changed between you since Christmas. He confides in you, lays out his homesickness and the daily struggles of soldiering neatly along with the cups of tea, sugar bowl, and cream pitcher, and you pick each concern up, examining and offering the proportionate consolation. You maintain a careful grip on your feelings for him; you’ve gotten quite good at only allowing your imagination to stray into heady, intoxicating dreams of being more than his friend when you stay up late at night, sewing and completing orders. In the daylight hours, however, you see the truth of the matter: you’re one of his best friends, and you’ll not let nothing jeopardize that relationship, not even yourself.

“Wrong answer,” you say, raising a hand to wave down Rosanna, the tea shop’s iron-haired owner to place your order. “Want to try again?”

Shifty sighs, a smile once against threatening to spread across his face. “Sometimes, it’s inconvenient that you can read me so well, you know,” he observes, an evasion tactic, and you arch an eyebrow as your cheeks threaten a blush.

Rosanna pulls up to your table, order pad in hand. “Hello to you, my ducks,” she greets, as usual, her beaming smile pulling her round face into a thousand lines of happiness. Her eyes sweep from Shifty to you, both a familiar sight throughout January. By all accounts, Rosanna and her tea shop have been an institution since Aldbourne was organized into a town back in the 1500s.  “What can I get for you today? Lemon mint?” Her eyes land on you.

“Why change from a classic order?” you ask, pleased she knows your order.

“Why indeed; very sensible of you,” Rosanna replies. To Shifty, who she refuses to refer to as such, she asks: “And you, Mr. Darrell?”

“Something strong and caffeinated; we’ve got a nighttime maneuver tonight, and I need to be wide awake for it,” he answers before hesitating. His eyes dart to you. “Do you want something to eat? Sandwiches or a cookie or something?”

“Oh, um,” you flounder. You have exactly ten pence in your coin purse; one of which you budgeted for the tea, another for the postage to send a meager portion of the loan to the bank in London, and the rest reserved to make change for the nurse’s slip order. No amount of finagling would budget for unnecessary spending like sandwiches or ‘cookies.’ “I think I’m happy with just tea,” you say to Rosanna, knowing something about the panic lurking in the shadows of your face—you could feel it seeping in—would tip off Shifty, and you’ve so desperately tried to keep your financial troubles from him.

“Are you sure?” Shifty says as Rosanna moves away. “You look kind of pale today, maybe the food would help?”

Your stomach grumbles at the reminder—man does not live on rations alone, you think, wryly—and you determinedly pretend you don’t hear it, even as Shifty eyes you worriedly. “No, I’m feeling quite well, actually. And don’t think you can distract me; what’s the matter?”

Shifty sighs, running a hand through his neat brown hair, leaving strands of it ruffled and standing on-end. You find yourself endeared. “It’s trouble with the NCOs.” Shifty’s earlier explanation of American military acronyms helps you make sense of what he means.

“Not Don Malarkey? Or Skip? Are they hurt? Are they in trouble?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing; you could see Don and Skip brought up on charges for practical joking—swapping out all the sugar for salt in the mess halls, maybe—but certainly nothing to make Shifty’s eyes cloud as they currently do.

He shakes his head. “No, they’re fine for now. They all, well…” He sighs, and you watch him deflate. You want to reach across the table and clasp his hands. You knit your fingers together in your lap. “The NCOs resigned because of Captain Sobel. He, um, well, he didn’t do right by one of the lieutenants and the NCOs are all concerned about following a man like the Captain into real battle.”

The furrow in Shifty’s brows, eyes lowered as he talks more to his worrying hands than you, broadcasts the truth: Shifty agrees with the NCOs; he knows Sobel would get every man in his company killed the instance their boots make contact with occupied soil, but he’s Shifty and would never say such a thing. You also know he’s desperately concerned with the extremities taken and their repercussions. “Do you know what’s going to happen? Resigning is…its mutiny, isn’t it? Could this…?” You’re not sure about the American Army, but in the British one, mutiny is grounds for execution during wartime.

Shifty’s mouth tightens and you have your answer before he replies: “I’m not sure, but it could be very bad. It’s an impossible situation, no doubt about that, but I’m real worried about what’s going to happen. We’re already down a good lieutenant, he got bounced to battalion, but giving an ultimatum like this doesn’t seem right either, does it?” His eyes flick to you.

You spread your hands, suddenly nervous and jittery under his imploring gaze. He looks at you for comfort, but the nuances of the American military and minutia of consequences for insubordinate are quite beyond you. Yet, with his hazel eyes pinning you, you want to try. Have to try. “They were doing what they thought was best, and I know you’re apprehensive on how all of this will affect the lives of your friends, but you also have to do what you think is best, right?”

Roseanna returns with the teas then, informing Shifty his is a simple black coffee (‘with real milk and sugar,’ she adds, because she’s soft on Shifty and his Virginian accent, but then, who isn’t?) and after she moves away, he asks, “Are you absolutely sure you’re not hungry? I’d be happy to get us something.”

You color at the implication, hate the pang of resentment echoing through your chest (Shifty paying for you, owing him for his kindness and knowing you’d never be able to pay him back), and hurriedly assure, “No, really; that’s quite all right.”

“Wrong answer,” he echoes you from earlier, his mouth curving into a smile that sends the bridge of his nose crinkling, his eyes twinkling. “You want to try again?”

Rolling your eyes to disguise how your skin blanches, how your stomach pits out, you flap a dismissive hand. “Please, we’re talking about you—don’t think you can distract me, Shifty Powers!” You snap your fingers under his nose in a gamble for sass, but its weak and awkward—you can tell by how he looks at you, endeared and fond, and you flush anew. Shifty sees me as a little girl, only suited to be a friend and it’s a realization you’ve had a hundred times over but you don’t think it’ll ever stop hurting—sharp and white-hot—when you’re reminded.

. . .

“Many more February 4ths to come.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

“Many more February 13ths to come.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

“Many more February 21ths to come.”

“Thank you,” Shifty tells you as his hand finds yours, squeezing your fingers. You can almost feel the sinews of his muscles through the wool of his gloves, through the fuzz of your mittens, if you focus hard enough. His eyes scrub your face—your flyaway hair curling around your stocking cap, your running nose, your cheeks chapped red from the rushing gusts sending flurries of snow to kiss your skin—and you swear you see intention coloring his eyes, as if his thoughts threaten to brim, boil, and overflow from his mouth. Yet, whatever unborn words those may be are swallowed down, dead and forgotten, as Shifty releases your hand and says, “I’ll see you on Wednesday, at Rosanna’s? Same time?”

“Sure, Shift,” you agree, smiling, trying not to hold your threadbare coat against you for warmth too conspicuously.

“Good,” Shifty replies, “Great!” And he turns away quickly, leaving that too-bright pronouncement to bounce over the thin months-old snow edging the lane, hurrying along. You know he spends too much time in town with you, insisting he walk from sewing lessons to the post office and well out of his way just to accompany you, risking being late for afternoon rifle training. Still, every time a twinge zips through your chest to watch him walk away.

To keep from calling out, it’d only be to stop him so you might see his face one more time, you push into the post office, sighing as a wave of heat cocoons your skin on contact. Leaning against the door for a moment, allowing the chill to ease from your bones, to loosen your arms from clenching the coat so tightly at your middle, you don’t notice Margaret frowning at you from her post behind the counter.

“You look skeletal,” she observes, breaking the silence with sudden bluntness.

Her words make you jump and gasp out a clipped “Oh!” Yet, when you register its only Margaret, you puff a sigh, tilting your head back. “Sorry, Margaret; you startled me.”

She plows on: “You’re rod thin, y/n! I swear, I see you at least every two to three days, and more of you vanishes every time.” You don’t open your eyes; it’s a coward’s ploy, but not being able to see her concerned squint makes it feel as though you can hide from the truth: this morning, while dressing, you could count each of your ribs in the mirror.

After Christmas costs, the unexpected purchase of the tea kettle, and logs for the heating furnace to combat the uncommonly long and deep frost of the winter, it’s been increasingly difficult to carve out money for food. Your ration portions mostly went to your Mother—who’s fatigue the night of Margaret’s Christmas Eve party has become a reoccurring theme—leaving you hungry (but not behind on loan payments, you think smugly. You’re waiting for the money to come from the hemming you did for Mrs. Mathison’s daughter to add to profit earned from the American nurses’ orders, you’ve cut nearly every cost you can, but the year’s loan payment has been scraped together and sits patiently in your bedroom vanity’s drawer to be sent off next week).

Margaret finally offers with a tongue click, her tone resolute, as if settling the matter for the foreseeable future: “I’ll send over some bread and salted ham; Father won’t miss it. Doubt you’ll be able to carry it with this package, anyway.”

Your eyes snap open, pushing off the door, compelled to the counter in your urgency. “What? What package?”

Margaret nods to a great box—coffin-size, you think, all feeling in your limbs seeming to pool downward, heaving your hands, your feet, dragging you into the ground: you recognize boxes like that, recognize the stamp embossing the brown paper—propped against the cubby holes for the post, far too large even for the shelves designated for packages. Margaret squats and with a great harrumph, hefts it onto the counter. “I haven’t seen one of these come in since before the war. Did you finally get a big order?”

You don’t reply; you don’t have the mental capacity to. With hands hanging limply at your sides, brain emptying of any coherent response or processing facilities, all you can do is stare. Stare at the great rectangular package—wider than your arm-span, tied up by three cords of neatly knotted twine—until a phrase surfaces from the fogged waters of your mind: Surely not.

Surely not.

Air goes jaggedly down your throat, choppy and disparate with how your mouth gapes and closes, gapes and closes, blood humming in your ears, and one hand pats for the tin on the counter’s surface without your conscious decision to reach for it. You fumble, dazed and slow, ringing the silver surface bell in your haze before your fingers curl around the handle of the scissors.

“I have half a mind to order something new for myself; I saw Tommy Beale yesterday, you know, and he asked me on a date, and you know with mad days like these, things might move—” Margaret babbles, not a syllable registering in your ears, lost in the chanting garble of surely not, surely not, surely not, surely not, surely not.

Surely Mother hadn’t ordered new fabrics, not from Aigle, not when there is a war on and money’s so tight and—the scissors snap the twine easily, allowing the brown paper to flop open, revealing long sheaths of fabric. Creamy satin that catches the weak whirring electric lights overhead, stiff tulle that whispers against your fingers, gold damask bruised with red and yellow strands of silk that glimmer, lace as fragile as the ghosts of snowflakes that stung your skin. Surely not, you think.

“This isn’t ours,” you choke out around a wheezing exhale. Your voice sounds foreign, hanging and lingering in the dead air around you.

Margaret interrupts her own dialogue, shaking her head. “Can’t be; it was addressed to you and your mother.” She forges through the mound of brown paper, producing the postal card with your surname printed neatly on it.. ‘Aldbourne’ follows, as if attempting to normalize the absurdity of it—as if allowing it a hold in reality—because surely not, surely not, surely not, your brain assures, refusing to comprehend those letters or assign meaning to the words, or meaning to the situation.

But then surely not becomes how could she?

How could she?

How could she?

“How could you?” you roar, not caring how the front door ricochets off the entryway wall, how your wildly grasping hands slam it behind you. Tracking snow across the entry, through the sitting room and into the kitchen, ripping your coat from your shoulders (the sharp fissure of fabric tearing is a problem for another hour), you find your mother sitting over the newspaper, her three o’clock tea cradled in hand. She blinks at you in startled confusion. Her innocuous stare, her eyebrows climbing, fan the flames in your chest, stoking them until you feel as though you’ve swallowed a fire. “How could you? All those fabrics—Mother! That’s a fortune! Why did you buy it? What could possibly—?”

“It’s for a wedding dress,” Mother interrupts when you splutter, seizing her first opportunity to interject. She takes a meditate sip of tea, watching you over the rim of her cup as if riding out a toddler’s tantrum. You could scream.

Grinding your teeth to repress a feral snarl, you ask, evening your voice to a low simmer, “Who’s wedding dress?”

“Margaret’s,” Mother replies, her smile turning self-satisfied.

“Margaret?” you repeat, eyebrow arching. “Mother, Margaret isn’t engaged, let alone able to afford Aigle satin, tulle, damask, and handspun French lace.”

“She will be soon,” Mother replies definitively. “That American of hers, the one who works with the mail. The nurses were telling me they’re sure he’ll propose before the Americans ship out for Europe and she’ll be needing a dress. And the deal I got for it all, you should have seen—”

Ignoring Allen Vest’s apparently having marital designs on Margaret, you shout over her, “It doesn’t change the fact that you bought fabric for a dress that hasn’t been ordered; we don’t have the money, we don’t—” You nearly choke, your breath catching at the thought. “The money—where did, where did it—?”

“I borrowed from the savings in your vanity drawer; you have to understand, darling, I was acting on my intuition and when has it ever been—”

You don’t hear the justification Mother gives, your head hits the wooden floor with a blunted thud.

. . .

Before you leave the house the following morning, you rubbed mightily at your cheeks, wiped at your nose with your coat sleeve, but the specters of tears refuse to be scrubbed away. Your eyes shine, contrasting against the faint red rim, and you’re sure it’s obvious how tightly your skin is stretched over your cheeks: dried out from the salt of tears. Mother attempts to wrap a scarf around her neck, force a cup of tea into your hands, but you only add the scarf to your pile and absolutely forbid her from consuming more than her single three o’clock tea. Then, you bundle your arms with one of the sacks you worked through the night to fill and set off down the lane, toward Aldbourne’s town center.

Last night, you worked in a foggy whirl. Opening all the drawers, yanking every dress and coat and jacket off their hangers in every wardrobe around the house, you sorted out the loveliest pieces—things once considered the absolute crème of London, that could still fetch a price—leaving behind a scant few options for both you and your Mother. As you went, Mother occasionally bid to dissuade you from selling her garden-green tea-length dress made from an air-light crepe; she tried to protect the old fox stole and the real lamb-skin gloves (with holes in both thumbs); she wrestled away the blue dress repurposed for the Halloween dance, but you managed to snatch it back when you finally spat out the truth: the money for the loans, taken out by your parents fifteen years ago to buy an atelier (now buried under the rubble of the Blitz), had been used to buy fabric.

A flash of guilt gnawed your insides, watching Mother’s face pale as she flopped into her armchair, but you couldn’t afford to console her tears. You had sorting to do, and if you tried to soothe away her anguish, your own carefully regulated tears would spill over (when you finally allowed yourself to climb into bed after four in the morning, you let silent tears soak into your pillow). The clothes wouldn’t fetch enough to cover the loan payment, but certainly enough to sate the banker’s letters for at least two weeks; enough time to return the fabric order and demand a refund.

Fortunately, February has decided to ease in its ferocity this morning, a shy winter sun peering around clouds to shine occasional patches of warmth, chasing away the lingering snow. You pretend the sun is all there is to notice—not the neighbor’s curtains flickering as you hurry down the lane, not Mrs. Jamison’s eyes tracking your progress from her front porch, not the vicar pausing in befuddlement at you as he emerges from the parish house—and that you only stare down at your blue dress, eyelashes fluttering in quick succession, because the faint breeze sends the loveliest ripples through its folded skirt.

You hug the brown paper sack tighter to your chest, as if trying to press these beloved things into you so you might engrave them in your memory to at least wear in your soul; the floaty pink dress you wore, aged eleven, to accompany your father to the Savoy to meet with the Duchess of York, or the heavy red gabardine coat you wore, aged fourteen, to attend Elsa Schiaparelli’s New Years Eve party (though you were trundled back home long before midnight). You’d outgrown everything in the sack years ago, save the new blue dress, and you’ve been meaning to sell them. The tightly-clutched shreds of dignity you had so studiously cultivated allowed you to cling to sentimentality, but now you had no choice.

Though you try your best not to think about him, not to let his ghost haunt you, your father’s words, uttered off-handedly but somehow lodging in your memory, floats into your ears: It is the last act of a desperate woman to sell her clothes.

I’m not many things anymore, you think, turning into the central square of Aldbourne, smiling wanly to the neighbors and American soldiers who call greetings to you, not daring to pause for fear of losing your momentum, But ‘desperate’ is certainly one of them.

A body steps into your path, and you nearly collide with it before you blink, scrambling over your own feet, and realize it’s— “Shifty!” you exclaim, staggering back to regain your balance. “Pardon me, I didn’t see you.”

His smile is wide, his face warmed by it, and you can’t stand to look at him, not right now when you’re so lowly. “Didn’t hear me either; I’ve been calling after you, but you’re in your own little world.” He takes a step closer, gently tapping your forehead before tucking a flyaway strand of your hair behind an ear. “Everything all right up there?”

“Oh, um, yes, of course,” you try. You cringe at how feeble you sound.

Fortunately, Shifty’s attention migrates to the sack and he bows, peering at it. “Is that—?” he begins and, before you can rush out of reach or invent a faltering excuse, he gently scoops the blue dress from the top and holds it out. The fabric unfurls in great ripples, refracting the sunlight and appearing like liquid in his hands. The skirt flutters down, brushing your hands, your coat sleeve, and you tick your jaw, forcing yourself to remain still. Shifty’s brows furrow as his eyes study the dress, a question forming in those bunched wrinkles. His gaze swivels to you. “Is this the dress you wore to the Halloween dance?”

“Well,” you begin, taken aback he remembers. Even Margaret didn’t remember the color of your dress; a week ago, she mentioned wanting to borrow ‘that little green dress of yours from the dance.’ Maybe I should try selling it to Margaret, you think, but reject the idea immediately. She’d ask awkward questions, like Shifty is about to, you know from the worried glint in his eyes. “Um, well, yes.”

“What are you doing with it?” he asks, attention turning to it, apprehension heavying his voice.

“Um,” you hum out, stretching the word in a frantic bid for time. Your mind offers excuses as rapidly as it rejects them, each evasion weaker than the last, and the seconds drag on too long, dragging you with them, until the only answer has to be the truth, or at least half of it: “I’m selling them. They’ve been taking up space at home, and I’ve been meaning to clear them out. Figured today would be the day.”

Shifty nods, mindfully folding up the dress. It’s a boyish attempt, one without a concept of how seams ought to lay or creases could be hidden, but the gesture is sweet, nonetheless. “Getting a jump on spring cleaning, huh? Always thinking ahead,” he offers, arranging the dress in the sack and you allow yourself a silent exhale of relief. Its only now that your muscles uncoil, your nerves ease, that you realize you had primed yourself for the defensive; you expected him to sniff out the lie and drag the truth from you—a truth you could hardly admit to yourself in the comforts of your conscious, never mind out loud.

Your breath turns leaden and stoppers in your throat: his eyes have flicked up to you and you hear his thoughts clearly, ‘Why are you lying?’

Tag list: @gottapenny, @wexhappyxfew, @maiden-of-gondor, @medievalfangirl, @mayhem24-7forever, @higgles123

[sheridans-dynamos]

She’s A Killer Queen, Young And Sweet, Only Seventeen Part 2

Pairing: Roger Taylor x reader (past and eventual) Brian May x reader (past) Freddie Mercury x reader (past) John Deacon x reader (past)

Summary:  It’s 1989. Jamie Y/L/N is 19, and she’s getting married in 2 weeks. She’s spent her entire life on a small island in Greece, Kalokairi, with her mom Y/N. She’s never met her father, she doesn’t even know his name. She’s always felt like there was a piece of her life missing. One day, she finds something in her mom’s journal that may be the answer to the question that has been on her mind for as long as she can remember. Or it may just raise plenty more…

A/N: Here’s part 2! This is the Brian chapter, then there’ll be Freddie and Deaky. After that we’ll be done with the flashbacks and get back to 1989! If you want to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!

August 17th, 1969

Roger had left 4 days ago. And you were still constantly crying. You were sad, but you were also angry. How could he do this? You thought he loved you. But clearly he didn't. You were just a vacation fling to him. A distraction, while his fiancée was waiting for him back in London. You were mad at him, but also at yourself. Why did you let yourself fall for him so easily? You knew he would be trouble the moment you laid eyes on him. But you ignored the feeling and let him in your heart. And then what did he do? He took it, broke it and tore it all apart. Just like you knew he would.

You rose from your bed in the abandoned hotel, deciding you had done enough sulking. You were determined to not let Roger Taylor ruin anymore of your time here. So you decided to go to your second favorite place on the island after the hotel. It was the little bar Roger had taken you to the day you met. You went there nearly everyday with him, so maybe it wasn't such a great idea to go back there, but Althea, the lady who owned and ran it, was so sweet and you were in dire need of a friendly face right now.

“Y/N! How are you my dear? I'm so sorry for what that boy did to you, he ought to get smacked,” her tone was harsh, but her features soft as she pulled you in for a hug. You smiled at her, glad to have come here.

“I'm alright I guess. But I'll be much better after a few drinks,” you said and she chuckled.

“Go sit somewhere honey, I'll bring 'em to you in a few.”

You nodded and thanked her, making your way to your usual table, plopping down on the chair without even bothering to see if the table was free.

You were playing with your nails, your head filled with thoughts of Roger. God, you felt so pathetic.

You felt eyes on you and lifted your gaze to the seat across you. A man with a big mop of curls was looking at you, his eyes gentle. A smile formed on his lips when you finally noticed him.

“Hello there. Are you alright? You seem.. distracted,” he spoke. His voice was so soothing, making you feel better already.

“Um yeah. Well, I've been better to be honest,” you trailed and he nodded lightly.

“Sorry for just crashing your table, I was lost in thought and wasn't paying attention.”

“No need to apologize. Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked.

“Depends, how'd you feel about murder?” You replied, only half joking.

He raised his brow, and you just sighed.

“Men are pigs,” you grumbled.

“Ah, that's what it is then. Some foolish chap broke your heart?” he guessed.

“Am I that obvious?” You asked with a dark laugh. Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, and you fought hard to keep them at bay. You really didn't want to start crying in front of this nice man. He was probably here on vacation, he didn't sign up for dealing with a broken hearted girl, crying about some guy she didn't even known a month ago.

“Hey, don't cry, please.” He reached over, putting his hand delicately over yours, gently rubbing his thumb over it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone? I can go sit somewhere else, if you'd like,” he asked you softly.

You gave him a small smile, shaking your head slightly.

“Actually, I really don't feel like being alone right now. If you don't mind sitting with a crying girl who probably looks like a gigantic mess?”

He chuckled lightly. “Not at all. And you're quite beautiful actually, definitely not a mess.”

His smile and kind words made you blush, you turned your head to mask it.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, both for the compliment and for him agreeing to stay with you. You weren't thinking about Roger as much while you were talking to him, it was a welcomed distraction.

“Oh, I'm Y/N by the way,” you told him, looking at him once more. He was quite a handsome man. And he looked like the complete opposite of Roger, which was exactly what you needed.

“Brian,” he said, his smile never leaving his face. Even that was very different from Roger. Roger's smile was smug, teasing. While Brian's was probably just about the kindest you'd ever seen.

Althea made her way to your table, bringing you your usual drink.

“Here you go dear,” she paused, looking at you, then Brian and back to you again. “It's good to see you smile again.”

“Um, yeah.“ You blushed, taking your eyes off Brian and turning to face her. “Thank you, Althea.” You smiled at her, grateful to have such a sweet woman who seemed to care a lot about you, even though you'd only been here a short while.

“Have fun,” she said with a wink as she left, making you blush again. Brian chuckled softly.

“Have you been here long? I haven't seen you around before,” you asked him after taking a sip of your drink.

“No.” He shook his head, his hair bouncing as he did, making a small laugh escape your lips. “I just got here today. Was looking for a mate of mine, but I guess he's not here anymore,” he shrugged.

“How about you?”

“Me? Oh, I've been here for about 3 weeks. I was supposed to stay here only a handful of days but… things happened...” you hesitated. Not sure if you should say more.

“Hey, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, it's alright,” he reassured you, his hand resting on yours for the second time. You didn't mind the contact. You enjoyed it actually.

“Thanks.” You gave him a grateful smile before continuing. “So, yeah, France was gonna be my next stop after Greece, but I ended up staying here longer. I'm leaving for Paris in a few days. And after that, who knows,” you said, shrugging. You had wanted to stay on the island longer, but everything here reminded you of Roger, so you had to get away. But you really didn't want to go back home yet, instead settling on your original plan of visiting Paris, and then London. You weren't entirely sure about the London part, afraid of running into Roger, but it was a big city, one you'd always dreamed of seeing. You weren't gonna let him take that away from you.

“That sounds nice,” he said, making you come back to reality. “I've never been, but I hear it's lovely.”

“Yeah. Hopefully a change of scenery will take my mind off... things,” You replied, the last word barely audible. “Anyway. How are you liking the island? It's beautiful, isn't it?” you asked, eager to change the subject.

“Oh yes, it's absolutely gorgeous,” he exclaimed. “I wish I had more time to explore, but I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow?!” you cried, and he chuckled at your outburst, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Oh no. No that won't do. Not at all,” you rambled, getting up from your seat abruptly and leaving some money on the table to pay for your drink.

“Come on!” You exclaimed excitedly, extending your hand out to him. He looked at you, a confused expression on his face, but accepted after a second and took your hand, smiling to himself as you dragged him towards the exit.

~

It felt a bit weird, sitting on that same balcony again, but with a completely different man. But Brian was leaving tomorrow, and he couldn't possibly leave without seeing the view from there.

You took your eyes off the sea to look at him, and saw that he was gazing up at the stars.

“I love the night sky.” It came out as a whisper, but he still heard you, turning his head to look at you, a big smile on his face.

“Me too. I absolutely love everything about space.”

“What else do you like?” You asked him, finding yourself wanting to learn more about the kind hearted man who had agreed to spend his night distracting the sad, pathetic strange girl he'd just met.

“Well,” he started, turning his gaze to the water ahead. “I really love music. I play guitar, actually.”

“Oh? That's nice,” you replied in a cheery tone that sounded extremely forced, but thankfully he didn't notice. Great, you thought, another musician, cause it went so damn well with the last one.

No. This wasn't gonna be like with Roger. You needed to stop thinking about him. Get over him. And Brian might just be the way to do that.

You turned your head towards him, admiring his features. Yes, he could definitely be the way to get Roger out of your head. At least for a while.

You shifted a little, getting closer to him until your arm brushed against his, putting your hand over the one he had resting between the two of you. He looked down at your hand on his, then up to your face, a surprised look in his eye. But it only remained for a second, then his features softened, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips.

You looked down at his lips, biting your own lip as you brought your eyes back to his, not bothering with subtlety.

He clearly got the message, and he started to lean down, but slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away if you wanted to.

You closed your eyes, eager for his mouth to reach yours. His lips were soft, his kiss gentle. You didn't want gentle though, not right now. So you poked your tongue out slightly, asking for entrance. He gladly obliged and you deepened the kiss.

You took his hand and placed it on your thigh, never breaking the kiss. You put your hand on his, slowly making your way up, when he pulled back a little, breaking the kiss and causing a small whine to escape your lips.

“Y/N, maybe we shouldn't do this,” he panted, out of breath from the kiss. “You're clearly emotionally vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of you. I don't want to end up making you feel worse,” he continued as he took his hand off your thigh and you frowned.

“Brian, I've only had one drink, I'm not drunk, you wouldn't be taking advantage of me. And I may be “emotionally vulnerable” as you put it, but that doesn't mean I don't know what I want. I know that I want this, and that it'd make me feel a hell of a lot better,” you told him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still hesitating.

“100%” You nodded your head vigorously, causing him to laugh.

“Alright then,” he said lowly, his hand going back to rest on your thigh, as he resumed kissing you, with a lot more hunger this time.

After a while, you pulled back gently, rising quickly to your feet, and extending a hand out to him, much like you had before.

“C'mon,” you said in a tone that was much different from the one you'd used earlier when you said that to him the first time. He grabbed your hand, letting you pull him to his feet and you both headed to your makeshift bedroom.

~

Roger ran into the bar, looking at every face, trying to find yours. He'd gone to his cabin first, but you weren't there, which he expected, but he still had to check. This was his next stop, the bar he took you to on the day you first met, the place you'd gone to with him nearly every night for 2 weeks.

He lowered his head in defeat when he realized you weren't here.

“What're you doing here?” Althea spoke to him in an angry tone, making his head snap up at her words.

“I'm… where's Y/N? I have to talk to her!” He begged her, but she just crossed her arms.

“You've made that poor girl suffer enough. Thankfully, she met a nice, handsome young man and they left a few hours ago.” she told him.

“It's called karma, boy.”

His face fell as he tried to hold back tears. Maybe he deserved it, but it sure as hell did hurt.

 @silverofthunder​  @perriwiinkle​ @sniktorthwip​ @itsametaphorbriansblog  @im-a-mazzellhoe  @geek-and-proud @annas-unicorun @galileofigarog @thewinchesterchronicles @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @siriusly-a-nerd

[blog-in-a-corner]

TSOTBL - Morning Haziness

In a few more days Garte would finally arrive to the lodge and everyone would get to come back home, they can handle a few more days at the lodge right?

Lucinda walked into the kitchen, her hair was a mess and she was sloppily dressed. Kim happened to be in the kitchen as well.

“Hey Lucinda are you alright? You look like a bird flew into your hair and you fell face first onto the pavement.” Kim asked, surprised at her friends appearance. “No, I'm not. I haven't been able to get any sleep these past few days.” Lucinda responded, cranky with the lack of sleep. “Why is that?” “I don't know! I keep feeling this weird, static feeling and every night it gets worse! It keeps me up all. Night. Long.” “Geez that sounds awful, do you know what's causing it?” “No! And it's driving me crazy!” Lucinda shouted, slamming her head onto the countertop.” “Hmm that's weird….” Kim muttered. “Not the only weird thing about this whole damn lodge anyway….” “Yeah… I can definitely agree with you on that….” “Anyways, how have you been holding up?” “I've...been fine! I guess….” “Good for you.” “I've been... reading and uh, napping….a lot.” “Irene I wish that were me.” “It's been so horrendously boring around here though, we're almost done cleaning the lodge and there's less and less things to do! With nothing to do I have to be alone with my thoughts, and I hate being alone with my thoughts!” “At least we'll be gone soon, just seven more days…” “Feels....like forever….” Kim trailed off. “Remember, we just have to be patient Kim.” Lucinda assured Kim. “Yeah. I…just...” “Uh Kim, you alright?” “Yeah….yeah-um, it’s nothing! Bye now!” Kim uttered, speed walking out of the kitchen. “Dammit! There she goes acting weird as shit again!” Lucinda slammed her head against the counter once more, in frustration. “I need to find out what's wrong with her and soon!

As Lucinda screamed internally, slouched over the kitchen counter. Aaron walked in to grab something to eat and noticed Lucinda slouched over..

“Uhh...Lucinda are you okay?” Aaron asked awkwardly yet somewhat concerned, looking at Lucinda, poking her shoulder. “No…” Lucinda groaned, picking herself up from the counter. “What happened?” “Everything…” “I see…” Aaron said, setting some water to heat. “Doesn't seem like you got a good night's sleep, you look like if a bird sold their run-down nest to an all too sentimental-bordering-on-hoarding frog.” “Gee, thanks.” “H-Heh um, h-hows Kim doing?” Aaron stuttered, quickly changing the subject. “Nope. She was fine before she left but then she started acting weird again.” “Again? Have you figured out what it is that's wrong with her?” “No, because I haven't been able to focus with everything that's been happening with this stupid lodge!” Lucinda snapped in frustration. “There was the whole boiler thing, and then our cars broke down, and then there's that weird cave full of bad energies LITERALLY behind the wall of the library in this lodge that we STILL haven't figured out how to close up, I can't sleep, and all the food we have is crap! Sorry if I can't detect anything right now!” “Hey calm down! I understand that this whole situation has been stressful, but we have to take a moment to breathe alright?” “I know it's just!....look I'm sorry for snapping at you like that, it's just frustrating not being able to do anything about a situation like this….I’m a prodigy! This shouldn’t be any problem at all..” Lucinda sighed. “It’s fine Lucinda, the situation has been rather...difficult, to say the least.” “Hey, do you happen to know anything about the lodge and it's specifics of being built?” Lucinda asked, hoping Aaron might know something. “Not really, although when we went to that liquor store the other day, the really jolly guy told me that BunnyHill has one of the largest burial sites in the country.” “Really? There being a lot of ghosts would make sense if that's the case, but why would there be so many upset spirits?” “I'm not sure…” “Do you know anything else?” “No, that's all he told me.” “Hmm, maybe we should try asking Zane or Garroth, they know a bit about the lodge. Actually speaking of Garroth, he didn't come down for breakfast this morning.” “Odd. I'll go check on Garroth and try my luck with him to see if he knows anything, he won't snap at me like Zane probably would.” “Alright, thanks.”

Aaron headed over to Garroth's room, he needed to talk to him.

“Garroth? Are you there? I wanted to talk to you about something….” Aaron asked, knocking on Garroth's door.

No answer.

“Garroth?” Aaron tried opening the door but it was locked.”Hm maybe he's somewhere else? But I haven't seen him leave his room…”

Before Aaron could step back to leave Garroth's door flung open. It nearly hit Aaron's face.

“What is it?” Garroth asked somewhat annoyed, his hair was a mess and he looked incredibly tired. “Oh hey! For a second I didn't think you were there, it was so quiet and-” “What is it that you want Aaron?” Garroth cut Aaron off, more annoyed than the first time. “Oh right, I just needed to talk to you, can I come in…?” “Fine, just make it quick.”

Garroth's room was in disarray, the blankets were sloppily piled over the bed and some of Garroth's possessions we're scattered around the room.

“Geez Garroth this place is a mess! We've got to have this place clean before your dad gets here y'know!” Aaron commented, looking around the room in shock. Garroth was usually more organized. “Is that all you wanted to lecture me about? Because I have other things to do.” Garroth asked, tapping his foot impatiently. “What? No, no! I wanted to talk to you about lodge, since you seem to know a lot about it.” Aaron insisted. “Alright, what do you want to know?” “Do you know the specifics of this land? You know the very spot the lodge was built?” “Not really, I know more about the scaling, the worth, foot traffic, and a bit of the history, but not really anything to do with the lodge grounds itself.” Garroth explained. “Hmm I see….” Aaron muttered. “All I can tell you is that this particular spot of land in BunnyHill apparently never grew anything, that's why they chose to a building of its structure here. My father probably knows more about it, seeing as he bought the place n’ all, maybe you can ask him when he gets here!” Garroth advised. “Yeah that's right! Thanks Garroth.” Aaron thanked Garroth, walking towards the exit of the room.”By the way, or you feeling alright? I don't wanna sound rude but you seem a bit uh, off this morning.” “Oh..oh it's nothing I'm just...a bit tired I guess…” Garroth mumbled, looking to the floor. “You look tired, get some more sleep. We're almost done cleaning the lodge anyway time isn't too important right now.” “Yeah...yeah I'll probably get myself some more shut eye right now…” “That's good, take care alright?” “You too.”

Aaron exited Garroth's room and went down the stairs, Kim was standing at the end of them.

“Hey Kim, whats up?”

Kim said nothing, she just stared.

“Uh Kim? Did you hear me?”

Kim shook her head and blinked a couple of times before looking back to Aaron.

“Oh hey Aaron, sorry I think I was spacing out…what did you tell me?” “Oh, I just asked you what's up.” “From this side of the stairs, you apparently.” “Okay, I set myself up for that one, that I'll admit.” “Haha!” Kim laughed. “I swear Garroth's rubbing off on you too much…” “Probably, but it could be worse, I could be body slamming into windows.” “GARROTH DOES THAT?” Aaron asked in complete shock and confusion. “No, you do. Aphmau told me you've done that like, four or five times in the past.” Kim elaborated. “FIRST I'VE ONLY DONE IT THREE TIMES, SECOND I BET SHE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU THE CONTEXT.” “Nope! She didn't give me any context whatsoever.” “Just when I thought I would never have to explain that story to anyone ever again….oh, before I forget, today we all have to touch up the last few rooms in the third floor and I think we should be done with the lodge once and for all.” “Really?” “Yup! We'll all get together in about two hours.” “Alright then!”

The two went off to tell the others.

//Howdy y'all! I'm going to be on a vacation with my family next week and won't be able to post. Regular posting will return June 17th!//

[samuel-dean]

Ideals.

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Lonna Evans. LOCATION: STK Atlanta; Atlanta, GA. TIME FRAME: Saturday, February 17th, 2018. NOTES: Samuel has lunch/dinner with his mother.

Samuel strolled into the restaurant happily, it was his mother’s favorite restaurant so he was by no means surprised that this is where she chose to make reservation for them both. No matter the choice of eatery, Samuel moved into the building and he walked up to the hostess’s podium, a gift in one hand and flowers in the other. “Hi” he said to her quietly “reservations for two, last name Evans” he told her though she was paying no real attention to him at all. He continued to stand there waiting patiently, rocking back on his heels before he said, “uh hi” again, a little louder this time. He figured maybe, she hadn’t heard him after all. When the girl looked up she took the man in, quickly sitting the pen aside “hello, how may I help you tonight?” she asked with a bright smile and even brighter eyes. “Yes, reservations for two, last name Evans” he repeated to her. “Certainly” the girl said back to him as she looked down the long list trying to find the table the guy’s reservation were assigned to. Once she found it she said “yes, your guest is waiting, right this way” she added happily, walking him to the table herself. She escorted him towards the back of the restaurant where an older woman sat waiting, the girl’s smile fell a little. There was no way a man this good looking happened to be dating a cougar, what was he thinking? However, that was none of her business and when they reached the table she said, “here we are” politely. Samuel followed the woman until his mother came into view, he smiled at her and said “here you are Mom, I wanted to bring you something. Just because” he added as she sat the box against the table and handed over her bouquet of roses. At his announcement, the young girl looked to him again “mother?” she questioned before she caught herself. “Yes” Samuel replied looking back to the girl that he hadn’t a clue, as to why she was still standing there. “Mother” the girl said with another smile “please do enjoy” she added as she scurried off to go write her number down on a napkin for him, she’d sneak it in down the road, reminding herself not to let him leave before he got it.

Lonna looked to her middle child and she beamed, the spoiled little brat got everything she wanted out of her husband and son’s. She was living the life every woman wanted, and boy did she enjoy the hell out of it. “Aw you shouldn’t have” she said as she looked to the box. She grabbed the roses and looked to them admiring their beauty before she rested them against the table opening the box without a second thought “oh!” she said looking the tennis necklace over “yes you should have, it is gorgeous Sammy” she said touching the countless stones of diamonds. “I love it, I know just the gown I can wear it with” she said as she continued to admire the necklace. “You are too good to your mother; do you know that?” she said leaning over to him and kissing his cheek before she pinched it happily.

“You deserve it mom, don’t make a big deal about it. It was just a small token” he said nonchalantly about the twenty-thousand-dollar necklace he had made for his mother. Samuel blushed as his mother kissed his cheek, he didn’t particularly like it especially in public but who were he to complain about her simple gesture. “Besides it has been awhile since you and I did any mother and son like activities so, I thought giving you a gift could smooth over how busy my work schedule has been” he told her truthfully.

“Oh goodness, I have been too busy with your sister to notice anyhow. The girl is going to take all of your father and I money and just throw it right down the drain. Can you believe she wants to go to law school now?” she asked him. “Every time your sister wakes up she wants to do something new Samuel. Next thing she’s going to want to be is a freaking astronaut” she said ranting. “I mean your father and I sent her to Italy for a year, she lived over there. Said she wanted to model. We tried to give her the best possible funding to do so and what does she do? Comes back home and works at a restaurant like she’s some single mother working to feed her two kids at home. I mean a waitress for God sakes…” his mother whispered as she leaned in to him, her eyes wide as saucers. “I wish she could just be normal. Be a doctor or nurse. Do something productive. Not working at Target or being a freaking nanny. Who does that?” Lonna said harshly.

Samuel looked to his mother, at her words he tilted his head a bit as she begin to speak on his youngest sister. He chuckled at her slightly, he could understand her frustration but he also knew his sister was trying to get out of the oil business one way or the other. As she continued to go on, Samuel tucked his lips in, his sister had lived in Italy alone for a year, he was always envious of that freedom actually. She was able to do far more than he and his oldest brother ever did but he assumed it was because she was the only daughter of the bunch. However, it made for interesting conversations like this with his mother, because she got so riled up about the simple things. “Maybe law will be good for her mother, you never know. And perhaps if she doesn’t finish or stick to it. You warn her that you won’t fund any more of her extravagant overnight ideas and she’d actually stick to something.”

“Your brother owns his own bank… I just need her to do something. And immediately” Lonna said closing the box. “Anyhow, enough about her. How are you?” she asked him as she tucked the gift inside her forty-five-thousand-dollar Hermes Birkin bag. “What have you been up to? How was Hawaii, I bet lovely this time of the year” she told him. “A great gateway from the cold here” she smiled.

“I am fine, the same” Samuel shrugged at her lightly “I haven’t been up to much. I am having someone redecorate the place a bit which was much needed in my opinion. Though Patty is handling that for the most part, I met the woman but that was about it” he told her. “Hawaii was good, I think I may take another vacation. I need something to do to occupy my time of course” he told her. “Not much to be done around here, and you know how much I love the beach and palm trees” he said stroking his beard lightly.

Lonna looked to her son, the boy was so pathetic sometimes. He was an eligible bachelor, yet he chose to spend all of his time and money on his dog, the dog did more, ate more, and saw more than she did in a year. He was so promising yet never let people in nor get too close to him. She really didn’t understand why he didn’t just date, or perhaps ask some young lady to join in on this spur of the moment vacations he took lately. “Hm” she replied as she folded her arms over her chest crossing her legs. “How is Daniel doing? I hear he’s getting married sometime this year…” she trailed off as she looked to him.

He looked at his mother, as she looked at him taking in her demeanor he rested his hands on the table. Their waiter approached and he looked up to the guy. “Hi, my name is Kevin and I’ll be your waiter for today. Can I start the two of you off with something to drink and an appetizer?” he asked the two politely. “Yes” Samuel replied to the guy before he answered “I would like a glass of water, and she would like a glass of Merlot” he told the young boy. “No appetizer” he added as the young boy scribbled the drinks down on his pad. “Okay, I’ll be right back with your drink orders” the guy said as he rushed off. Samuel eyes moved back his mother “he’s doing fine I guess. I wouldn’t really know. We don’t keep in touch that much anymore” he told her sighing. “Yes, he is getting married and he’s been very busy with that” he said rolling his eyes, not wanting to talk about his friend.

“He’s the only friend you have if you don’t talk to him you have no one else to go to” Lonna pointed out. “This is a time where you two should be the closes your friend is getting married. That is a joyous thing to celebrate don’t you think?” she asked him.

Looking back at his mother again, Samuel said “the guy is busy, and I don’t intend on occupying his time. It’s fine” he reasoned. “He has a woman… okay. I get that” he shrugged at her lightly. The young boy returned with the glass of water and the wine, he sat the wine glass down opened the bottle of wine and poured the older woman a glass.

“You can leave the bottle here darling” Lonna said as she reached for her glass taking a sip. The young boy nodded before he said, “would you both like to order now?” curiously “or do you need a few more minutes?”

“A few more minutes” Samuel replied smoothly to the boy.

“You are jealous and it’s eating you up inside. You shouldn’t be jealous of him” she told her son. “He met someone in his own timing, it takes time for everything in life” Lonna offered.

“We are not doing this” he told his mother without hesitation. Samuel was not about to open up about how lonely he was in a restaurant to his mother.

“We certainly are” Lonna proceeded “it’s written all over your face and in your attitude” she told her seriously. “You could have an amazing girl Samuel you choose to be alone. Remember the young girl I tried to court you with?” she asked him. “She was the perfect girl for you and you just pushed her to the side without a second thought” she told him.

“First off, that girl was uneducated and money hungry. She had no culture about her mother and she only wanted me after she realized how much I was worth. She was not perfect in any way she didn’t even know how to cook” Samuel said.

“You have chefs, several. And your standards are far too high. Though her being money hungry does bother me, I don’t need anyone tapping into my gift fund” she said brushing hair out of her face. “Well you know who you could call…” she trailed off without another word. “You two were in love, inseparable. She was truly perfect. And her father was a senator, she doesn’t need your money she had her own in fact. I saw her the other day, she looks good. Even now” Lonna told her.

Samuel sipped from his water filled glass and looked at his mother, with true annoyance. At her statement however, he dropped his head “that ship has sailed mother. You and I both know that” he said.

“But it can come back around full circle. You never know. I saw no ring on her finger she is fair game” Lonna smiled. “Anyhow, I need grandchildren, I need to marry one of you off. Crystal has married off two children and then there is me. All of my children are just roaming the Earth blind to the fact that all three of them need love” she countered.

Samuel looked to his mother blinking slowly “is this just a competition between the chatty housewives of Atlanta?” he asked.

“Samuel” Lonna said without another word.

“I apologize” Samuel said as he tucked loose strands of hair behind his ear. “Woman or not, you know the possibility of me having children is not at all large either way. I don’t know why you focus on that sentiment so much…” he said looking down at the table. “I am not focused on kids and a marriage. Once women get with me they either want my money, think I am disgusting, or put on an act” he said lowly. “Besides women want kids, they want to marry a man that’s able to give them some. No one wants me” he told her truthfully. “Especially not her…. It was the reason why she left in the first place. So just drop it” he said sadly as he finally opened his menu to decide on his meal for today.

[i-growl-growl-growl]

(EXO scenario trapped with their crush in an elevator?) I love this scenario! Could you do this with Topp Dogg's B-Joo, A-Tom & Xero? ♡ tyvm

B-Joo: So so so so so so shy! Our crazy 6d B-joo is no longer 6d in this situation. The poor thing would be the polar opposite of his usual portrayal of outgoing and loud fluffiness. Except for the occasional chuckles and “aigoo, how long is this going to take to work again?” this poor puppy would remain silent throughout the time that the elevator is stuck because he’d be so damn shy!

Topp Dogg were going to perform at a convention when the incident happened. B-Joo had been the last member to try and get on an elevator when it became too crowded, “it’s ok guys I’ll just catch the next one” he’d say as the people in the crowded elevator closed the door and headed up to the floor where the event was taking place. he’d press the button to summon the next elevator and patiently but awkwardly wait as the numbers showed which floor the elevator was on and which floors it’d stop at as it came down, “oh crap, I forgot what floor it’s on hahaha!” he’d look in his pockets for his phone when he realized that he and Xero had been messing around and taking each others stuff until xero kept everything while they’d been on the car ride from the hotel they were staying at so he was completely helpless and couldn’t contact anyone to help him. 

When the elevator finally arrived he was the first one to enter but he didn’t press any buttons since he’d forgotten which floor he needed to get to. he was beginning to think he was screwed when there was no one else to get on until the elevator doors started to close before someone came rushing in at the last moment, “Oh thank god!” he’d sigh in relief. “Which floor do you need?” the person asked who had entered the elevator, “Oh, uh, the floor for the convention.” The stranger would press the button and the elevator doors would close  before the stranger turned around and B-Joo got a proper look at their face- once he did his shy persona took over, “oh crap” he’d say under his breath, it was his major crush. 

Just as the elevator reached the 6th floor, B-Joo and his crush felt a heavy jerk before the power went out for a few seconds before turning back on. He’d watch as his crush would press the buttons to each floor. “Wh…what’s going on?” he’d ask “oh, the elevator isn’t working!” they reply “it’s not moving and none of the buttons are working.” Cue the 36 minutes B-Joo would be trapped in the elevator with the person of his dreams- if only he wasn’t so bashful now. As mentioned before, B-Joo would hardly say a word and it’d become so terribly awkward in the elevator as time passed on. B-Joo would steal glances at you with major heart eyes and an increasingly red face but that would be the only interaction with you that he’d make otherwise he’d just stay in his corner admiring your beauty but hoping that the elevator would begin working again sometime soon because it’s too awkward in here - even for someone like him.  

Lo and behold, after 36 painstaking minutes the elevator would ding and the lights on the buttons would come back on. “Oh thank god!” he sigh, once again in relief. His crush would press the button for the floor they needed before stepping back a bit as the elevator jerked into motion once again. After the elevator reached the 17th floor the door would open, “uh, thanks for being stuck with me in the elevator” he’d say as the his crush began to walk out at the same floor “Oh, uh, haha ok. You’re welcome” they’d laugh. “I’ll uh, see you later sometime maybe?” “oh, yeah sure. I’ll be watching you perform” “Oh cool, I’ll look for you in the crowd” “ok.” His crush would walk away with a blush deep on their cheeks while he’d begin walking in the opposite direction to catch up with his band before it’s time to perform, “you were such an idiot” he’d scold himself “that was your chance!”

Xero: He’s the most chill with the situation tbvh. He’d know that this could be a good chance to get to know his crush and although he might be a little jittery about talking to them at first he’d face it and speak up anyway. he’d start the conversation slow and wouldn’t speed it up for a while, he’d just want to get to know his crush a bit and depending on how long they’re stuck in there with each other and how well their conversation goes, he may ask for their phone number afterwards, before they disappear. 

The payment contract for the dorms had run out without HUNUS realizing it before it was too late so they were moved to a new dorms. Each of the members were actually pretty happy with their new accommodations because the apartment was bigger so they had more room for all of their stuff. Another bonus to the new dorm was that the staff were relatively nice and lots of tourist could be seen walking by down on the streets below since there were plenty of tourist shops and restaurants near by. That is how Xero spotted you and became nearly infatuated with your beauty. He and the other TD boys had been eating at one of the restaurants just across the street from the dorms when you came in asking for a cup of tea while looking at the dinner menu. As Xero focused his attention on you all of the other members would notice and make a huge deal out of it, which would piss him off, because now you knew and both of you were embarrassed, him more so because he’d been caught and exposed to you. “Yah, thanks A**holes, so mature of you! Thank you very much!”

A few days later, Xero ran into you again when the both of you just so happened to be at the same shopping center as each other. Xero hadn’t known until he was catching the elevator doors to let you on, unbeknownst to him, before heading up to the third floor of the building. The elevator doors closed and began moving up at an irritatingly slow pace before you both felt a little jolt, the electricity went out, then the emergency lights came on. “Well this is all fine and dandy” he huffed in annoyance. He would then turn to you and ask you if you were ok before realizing that you’re the person who caught his eyes back in the restaurant a few days ago. As you were telling him that you were ok, he’d avoid his gaze and hope that you didn’t recognize him. 

A silence would fall between you before his guts tore at him to talk to you so he’d kindly, bashfully ask what your name was. “I’m y/n” you reply, “and, you’re Xero from Topp Dogg right?””Yeah, yeah I am!” He’d be surprised that you knew who TD was but he’d keep himself from getting too excited, he’d pass of the reply with a stoic expression “it’s nice to meet you y/n” “it’s nice to meet you to Xero.” Again there’d be a momentary silence before he’d speak up again, “well uh, this is quite the wonderful elevator ride we’re taking isn’t it? Quite joyous, a bit too fast for my taste but hey who am I to complain right?” This would get you to chuckle a bit which would relieve some tension that had been in the air. 

A few more minutes with a pleasant conversation between the both of you went by before a ding was heard and the elevator jolted back into it’s dinosaur-ic ascend to the third floor. “Jesus! Even a snail could’ve beaten us to the third flood at this pace.” Another chuckle would sound throughout the elevator “patience is a virtue Xero” “yeah, ha, the only virtue I have is treating people with respect.” Soon the elevator dings, notifying you that it had reach your destinations, “well it was nice meeting you y/n” he’d wave as you both exited the elevator “it was nice meeting you to.” “Hey, maybe, if you don’t mind, maybe we could get some coffee or something a talk a bit longer?” “yeah sure, I’d enjoy that.” Xero would be happy, both because he had talked to you and because you didn’t seem to remember him from a few days before. “What a score!”

A-Tom: FLIRT ALERT! FLIRT ALERT! FLIRT ALERT! Like holy shit, flirtation up the ass! Hot damn, holy heavens, that elevator would be on fire from his flirtation attack! His crush would have no chance of getting out of that elevator without him having their phone number and a cute nickname already picked out for them sort of flirt flirt alert!

A-Tom was on vacation when he spotted you at the hotel he was staying at. From the first moment he saw you he’d have heart eyes up the yin yang for you. He didn’t know who you were but he was sure as hell going to find out before he’d leave because you’d stolen his heart without even having to look at him or approach him- surely a person like that was worth getting to know.

For days he’d spot you around town or in the hotel at different locations but just as he’d begin to approach you you’d walk away, magically seeming to disappear around invisible corners or into elevators before he could get to you or even utter a single word. It’s not that he was shy, oh no, it’s just that your beauty would captivate him each time that he’d have no option but to just stand and stare for a few long moments every time he laid eyes on you before it’d be too late and you’d be gone. It’d be so irritating for him knowing that you’re so close yet still so far and each day his determination to not be captivated by you for too long would grow so that he could approach you because who knows how long you’d be at the hotel before you left and he’d never have the chance again?

It was the fifth day that he spotted you, he was on the elevator to head up to his room when he heard footsteps hurrying to get to the elevator before it closed. Surprise surprise, you’d enter the elevator before the doors even began to close and you’d press the button to the floor that your room is on. As the doors closed and the elevator ascended at a rather slow pace than usual, he’d once again be caught up in a trance over your beauty, luckily he had until you’d reach the 26th floor before he’d miss his chance to talk to you again. Floor 20, floor 21, floor 22…………………. Just as the elevator was making it’s way to the 23rd floor it malfunctioned, jerked heavily, started descending at a snails pace then stopped completely before it reached the 22nd floor. Luckily the elevator was a made of heavy windows that faced some nice scenery of other skyscrapers, malls, and even some hills in the distance so neither of you had to worry about the lights going off and being caught in complete darkness. “well, isn’t this just perfect!” he’d think to himself, “just what I need to have the chance to talk to them.”

“Well, isn’t this inconvenient” he’d speak up, clearly only intending that for you because he’d actually be happy the elevator malfunctioned. You’d look at him and agree “yeah, hopefully you don’t have some important business meeting to get to, judging from your outfit, otherwise you’ll be late depending on how long it takes for the elevator to start working.” “Oh, no actually I was dressing up to impress someone “oh really, well that person will be lucky, you look good in that””yeah, you sure are.” Him comment would clearly catch you by surprise but he wouldn’t be ashamed of it “excuse me?” you’d ask “I said that you’re lucky sweetheart. The only time I’d dress up like this without having a performance is for you sweet-cheeks. So, what’s your name? I’m Kim Sang gyun but everyone calls me A-Tom.””Oh, um I’m y/n” you say flustered “ah, a pretty name for a pretty face, how perfect. So y/n, you in a relationship with someone?” “No” “oh, what a shame. It’s sad people don’t notice how lucky they are to be around such a beautiful person like you. Ya know if I was your boyfriend I’d treat you like royalty.” 

……………as mentioned before, he’d be such an unashamed flirt and he’d definitely have your phone number by the time the elevator started working again. “Thanks for the phone number y/n, I’ll make sure to give you a call real soon.”

~Savie

[genehackmon]

Tamersona Week 2017 Day 3: Digital Devices

Barely making it on time for day 3!! I’m having a ton of fun writing Jules’ adventures and reading about everyone’s tamersonas throughout the week!! 

I’m thinking about adding some of the tamersona community’s OCs to Jules’ story to spice up the fun! @elecmon @tortamon @lighdramons I’m lookin’ at y'all - would y'all be down for that? Is there anything about your tamersonas you want me to make sure to represent? 

 Anyway, without further ado, Jules and Buns’ adventure continues!

Prompt 3: Digital Devices (Feb 17th, 2017)

Jules woke up on the sandy shore. It was dark, but the moonlight illuminated his surroundings in a faint hue. He scrambled, patted his own body - still in one piece. He noticed his clothes were dry. He looked around him frantically, and there he was - Buns, just a few feet beside him.

Jules rushed over to Buns, who was back to his usual Terriermon self. He was face down in the sand. Jules’ stomach dropped. He turned Buns over, and breathed a sigh of relief - Buns was snoring like a pig, fast asleep. He plopped down next to Buns and started to laugh at himself, amazed that they had just survived such a crazy ordeal. As he started to finally relax a bit, he noticed a long shadow looming next to where he and Buns were laying. He stopped laughing, and looked up.

Before him, Jules saw an imposing dragon towering up from the edge of the water. It had to be at least twenty stories tall, and it gleamed with golden armor as it cast a majestic gaze down on Jules with two glowing eyes. “This can’t be real,” he thought, “first a giant squid, then a demon, now a dragon?!”

“Yo!” Jules heard a voice call from behind him, a human voice. He was almost too scared to pull his eyes away from the dragon, in case the thing lunged at him to eat him, but on second thought, he considered he would rather not see the thing’s jaws coming if that was his end. “Yo! You awake now, huh?” called the voice. He turned around.

It was a young man with blonde hair, probably in his twenties, like Jules. He was wearing a salmon button down shirt, shorts, and sandals. He didn’t seem cold, despite the chilly San Francisco ocean breeze.

Jules didn’t know what to say - whether to ask who the guy was, or what was that giant dragon staring at him, or how he ended up on the beach. “Uh… um…” he started.

“It’s okay, I’ll explain. Don’t worry,” the young man cut in, reassuringly. “Hey, I’m Michael. And that over there, that’s my partner, Bates!”

Jules turned around again and looked at the dragon, “Th-that’s… y-your… partner?!”

“Yeah man, just like how you have a Digimon too!” Michael answered casually, “You and your Terriermon there were in quite a rough patch, huh? I’m glad Bates and I spotted you two before it was too late.”

Jules was still trying to process all the information, “This… wha - … you… how… “ His Digivice beeped. He took it out. “METALSEADRAMON,” it read. He took another look at Bates. “That’s your partner?!” he repeated.

“Haha yup! Bates and I went full court press when we saw that MarineDevimon come at you guys. We haven’t seen an emergence like that in a long time!”

Jules looked at Michael, looked at Bates the MetalSeadramon, looked at his Digivice again. “Mega level Digimon…” he muttered in amazement as he read the information from the device.

“Don’t let that thing fool ya,” Michael said, “Bates here isn’t just a swimmer, despite his name. He’s a shining fortress built for land, air, and sea, aren’tcha bud?”

Bates responded in stoic silence, still staring at Jules.

Buns yawned loudly as he got up from his well-deserved nap. “Jules…?” he called out, as he tenderly itched his eyes.

“Buns, you’re up!” Jules exclaimed, and rushed over to hug his friend.

“Ah, so you guys are Jules and Buns,” Michael said cheerfully. He knelt down to Jules’ and Buns’ level, “nice to meet ya!”

“Hey stranger!” greeted Buns in reply, “Jules, who’s your new friend? Did you become popular while I was snoozing?”

“Shut up, Buns,” Jules teased, “Actually, we just met. Apparently, Michael here and… uh, Bates, up there, saved us from that monster.”

Buns looked up and saw Bates. “Wow!” Buns shouted in excitement, “You look badass!”

A low grumble came from the general direction of the MetalSeadramon. Jules assumed that was a reply of amusement.

“So, you saved us, huh?” Jules addressed Michael and Bates, “Thanks… uh, I don’t know what to say.”

“No worries at all!” Michael responded, “a fellow Tamer is a friend! I bet you got a lot of questions, huh?”

“Yeah…” Jules tried to gather his thoughts, but his mind was racing, “How about… uh, how are my clothes all dry?!”

“Oh, that’s it? Easy. See Bates’ nose up there? Yeah, that thing shoots hella laser beams. But I figured out if I make the big guy sneeze, it’s like a super blow dryer.”

Bates grunted in a reluctant demonstration, and the cannon he has for a nose blew a channel of wind down at Jules and Buns with force, fluffing up both of their hair. Buns and Michael laughed.

Bates turned his massive head towards the distance, “Michael,” he growled in a deep, echoing tone. The Digimon sensed something approaching.

Jules heard the sound of a car engine, and saw headlights drawing closer to where the four of them were sitting on the beach. “Who is that?” he asked.

A black van pulled up out of the fog. “Nice to see you boys are handling yourselves,” announced Himekawa as she stepped out.

“You! You’re the woman from earlier!” Jules yelled angrily.

“Hey Himekawa-san, I was wondering when you’d show up!” Interrupted Michael.

Jules turned around to face Michael, “Wait… you know this lady?!”

“Uh, yeah, more or less,” Michael replied, “We’ve had some uh, encounters, in the past,” he paused, trying to think of how to explain. He turned to Himekawa, “Say, Himekawa-san, what are you doing in the States, anyhow?”

“I think that emergence incident just now speaks for itself, doesn’t it, Mr. Washington?” said Himekawa, calmly.

“Fair enough,” reasoned Michael.

“I’m going to need you to come with me, Mr. Washington.” Himekawa continued. “So please, tell your partner over there to… let down his guard.”

“Ah, vacation cut short. Always impeccable with your timing, Himekawa-san. Well, it can’t be helped,” Michael signaled to Bates, “Alright bud, you heard the lady, we gotta get movin’.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Jules cut in, “can some one tell me what the hell is going on?”

Himekawa glanced at Jules, “Michael, you may want to convince your new friend to tagalong.”

“Right, uh, hey Jules,” Michael turned to Jules, “look, sorry we’re out of time, but if you want to learn more, you can come with us. Bates doesn’t bite, I promise.”

“No, I can’t,” Jules responded, “I have no clue what is happening here. A-and… I have work tomorrow, I need to get back - how late is it?!”

“Jules…” Buns hesitated.

“Regarding that,” Himekawa announced, “since you inststent on being so tied up, I gave your employer a call. You’re on indefinite leave until further notice.”

“Wha- what?!” Jules screamed, “You called my job? What did you tell them?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t divulge anything about your Terriermon here,” Himekawa chuckled, “I have connections as well, Mr. Yue. You will still be on payroll. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I asked. I don’t trust you!” retorted Jules in anger.

“Hey, Hey, let’s uh, try and take it easy,” replied Michael, “look, Jules, Himekawa is harmless, really. I know it’s hard for you to believe and you’re really confused right now. But, just, give me a chance - come with us, ok? I promise, things will make more sense.”

“This is insane. Where are we going?” Jules asked, still glaring at Himekawa.

“Good question,” Michael affirmed, “Hey, Himekawa-san, where do you want to go exactly?”

“I’ve staked out a meeting point south of the city,” she said, “like I said, I came here to pick you up.”

“How generous, I busted up my rental bike trying to get over to the pier tonight,” Michael laughed, half sarcastically, “What do ya say, Jules, just come and see what it’s about? I promise I’ll have Bates fly you back at anytime.”

“Jules…” Buns tugged at Jules.

“Fine.” said Jules, “Just this once. You have today. Once the day is over, Buns and I are going back. That’s it.”

“Very well then, shall we?” Himekawa started walking back toward the van.

“C’mon Bates,” Michael called.

A rainbow glow surrounded the mighty Digimon, and the huge dragon form faded away. From the tides crawled out a small green creature with an orange fin. It spoke, “Aww, the fun is over.”

Jules couldn’t believe his eyes. A giant dragon had just shrank down to a little amphibian on command. “H-How did you do that?” he asked.

“De-Digivolve? Well, you gotta use your Digivice, of course!” Michael explained. “You know, I was pretty surprised you didn’t have the ropes down yet - I noticed your Digivice looks like mine. I had thought you rolled with the old crew.”

“What? Older…?” Jules was just getting more confused.

“Yeah, look. Your Digivice and mine, they look similar. These Digivices are from quite a while ago… I’m assuming you saw the battle on the internet?”

“Yeah… I did!” Jules was surprised that Michael knew.

“Hm. Yeah, I had expected that you and your Digimon would’ve known each other for a long time, then.” Michael mused, “like, Bates and I, how long has it been, Bates? Over fifteen years?”

“I don’t know. I’m hungry,” responded Bates.

“Well, uh… Buns and I…” Jules struggled, “It’s a long story.”

“No worries, didn’t mean to pry,” reassured Michael, “we can chat in car.”

“Yay! Road trip!” exclaimed Buns.

What is Himekawa’s damage?! Who brings back a garbage side character from 02!!?! When are they gonna feed Bates?!?!?! We’ll just have to tune in next time on Tamersona Day 4: A Hero’s Uniform!