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#sorry if some words sound weird- I just woke up to answer this question
sxilor-1010 · 9 months
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3, 8, and 20 for the "this or that" game with TFA Starscream!
3. Heavy, hot, and passionate kisses or Soft, sweet, and tender kisses?
It depends on his (and Emilyn's) mood too. Most of the kisses are soft and sweet, short too if both of them are in a hurry somewhere. But there have been times where Starscream would get jealous anytime he'd see Emilyn interacting with other people.
She was flustered for an entire night when she came home and he gave her a heavy, passionate kiss. It was all because he got jealous and a bit possessive.
8. Constantly bragging about dating each other or Keeping the relationship relatively secretive?
They have to keep their relationship a secret. It started off with Emilyn getting some pity for Starscream after he was injured by the Allspark (and Professor Princess painting on him), and letting him crash at her place.
It also doesn't help that he's bring hunted down by any other cybertronians who want him dead later on. So he and Emilyn gotta remain hush hush on their relationship due to this.
20. Value anniversaries/important relationship dates or Nah?
They both try to value anniversaries through special dates, but often times Emilyn can get caught up in her work that Starscream has to pluck her and stop her from going into another workaholic daze.
But in short answer: Yes they do special dates.
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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year
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tell me you love me vol 2 | steve harrington
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warnings: fluff, more pining
a/n: AHHHHHHHH thanks for the love
tell me you love me vol 1
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Steve barely slept. He couldn't focus with you this close to him. He couldn't not love you anymore. And it was worse now, like the entire burden of knowing you love each other was crushing his chest. He wanted you to remember your conversation last night. He needed you to. But also, he didn't. What if you were just drunk? What if you thought your friendship was too valuable to risk?
It was already at risk... he sighed, giving up on trying to sleep and instead just laid with you. Steve couldn't fathom a world without you in it, he didn't want to live a life where he didn't see you every day. He needed you, more than he needed a girlfriend, maybe... maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Steve was in agony.
You shuffled in your sleep, groaning and stretching. The blankets kicked off in the night, and wrapped around your legs, and when you stretched he was forced to endure the torture of your beautiful half naked body. He couldn't look elsewhere, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.
He had to get out of here.
The phone ringing was a good excuse to get out of bed, but he didn't know who the hell would be calling this early. It was quickly answered when he picked up only to be met with a word vomit of questions from Robin.
"I don't really remember but I think I just left y/n at the party," Robin was saying, "Is she there? Is she with you?"
"Yeah, she's here," Steve whispered, hoping he didn't sound as exhausted as he felt. "You left her sleeping, dude. Not cool."
"That's fucked," she said, disappointed in herself. "I was not thinking clearly, I woke up in a panic. But she's okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. She's still in bed," he said.
"Good, good. I'm really sorry, tell her I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, yeah, okay..."
"You okay, Steve? You sound weird."
"No, I'm fine I just..." he sighed, "Robin I can't pretend not to love her anymore. I just - I know it's bad to date in the friend group but... I love her."
"I know you do," she said, "I only said don't date her if you weren't sure. If you're sure then go for it."
"Really? Do you think... do you think it'll work?"
"I don't know," she answered, "but I know you guys are crazy about each other and it's probably time to find out."
Steve hung up the call after promising to tell you that Robin was sorry, very sorry. He didn't want to go upstairs, he still felt confused. Would you remember what you guys had talked about? Would you change your mind? He decided on breakfast, and got to work making some bacon and eggs, deciding he would wake you up when it was ready. But first, he needed coffee.
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When you woke up in Steve's bed you were confused, and disappointed he wasn't there. What time was it? The clock read just after eight, and you could smell the breakfast cooking downstairs. You groaned, stretching as much as you could before contemplated getting up or just staying here.
You didn't really remember much after the party, it all got a little fuzzy when you first started falling asleep. You loved this bed, you were staying in this bed every time you stayed over from here on out. In fact, you were never leaving it.
Except the distant call of food being prepared made you get up. The least you could do was go lend a hand.
You tiptoed down the stairs, and tried to peak at Steve in the kitchen. He was still shirtless, drinking his coffee while leaning against the counter, shuffling scrambled eggs around lazily.
The sight of him made you sigh. The ache in your chest only grew with the sight. He was so beautiful, and he just looked so... boyfriend. You wished he could be yours, you wished that you could wake up to this more often.
"Good morning," you said, joining him on the main level.
"Morning," he said, smiling at you. But it was different, it didn't reach his eyes.
"Can I help?" you asked, padding over to him and looking at all the good stuff he had going on.
"No it's okay," he said, "I'm just about done. Make yourself a coffee."
You nodded. But his demeanor was bothering you. He was being cold, distant. He wasn't acting like himself. You wondered if you did something wrong.
"Do you uh, remember much about your party?" he asked, trying to seem casual but you could tell he was prying. Looking for answers about something.
"Most of it yeah," you smiled, sipping the hot coffee. "But I don't really remember leaving, or coming here."
And it would've been impossible to miss how Steve dropped his shoulders, clearly disappointed by your answer. You wanted to say something, but you forgot how to speak. You didn't know what to say.
"Do you want to plate everything?" he asked, slinking out of the kitchen. He mumbled some excuse about the bathroom, and left you alone, thinking about what happened last night.
Breakfast was quiet, save for the tv playing quietly in the background. This was typically your favourite kind of morning, lazily getting up at Steve's, making breakfast together, just hanging out. But the air just felt different today, he didn't want your sous chef help in the kitchen, and there was no charming banter. In fact, he barely looked at you.
When you finished he said, "I guess I should get you home," as if you didn't usually hang around all weekend, and added, "I just gotta change."
And he pushed away from the table, leaving his dirty dishes abandoned. So, you guess he didn't want your help do the dishes either? Something obviously happened, or he wouldn't be this cold with you. You felt your throat getting tight, and held it together as you gathered the dishes, bringing them over to the sink.
You both got dressed, with him loaning you some sweat pants to go with the big shirt you wore to bed so you didn't have to climb into your party outfit. It still reeked of booze.
"Did something happen, Steve?" you asked, unable to tolerate the uneasy air as you both slipped your shoes on. Maybe you... maybe you confessed your feelings to him, and he felt uncomfortable, you did this... Did you ruin everything?
"What?" he asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Uh, nothing," you muttered, not wanting to push his buttons. You didn't want to pry.
"Everything's fine, babe." He put his hand on your shoulder, letting it slide off, and back to his side. "Just a lot on my mind."
Even the drive was quiet, and the tension made you feel like crying. He had the radio playing quietly, but he just didn't seem like he was totally there. But still, every question got stuck in your throat. You guys didn't say a word until he was parked in your driveway, hands remained clutched on the wheel.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked, hoping that your movie plans with Robin were even still on.
"Yeah, of course. I'll call you later..."
Now or never. "Is everything okay, Steve? You're being so quiet. I feel like you're trying to push me away."
He looked at you with those beautiful eyes, those beautiful, sad eyes and you could see his anguish, you could see there was something he couldn't say. Words were being left unsaid. Was he scared? What was he scared of? You thought... you really thought he could tell you anything.
"I'm fine," he said finally, giving you another small, fake smile.
You faked a smile, trying not to show that your heart dropped into your stomach. You had this painful fear that you'd told him that you loved him, and he'd wished you hadn't. What the fuck happened between the party and Steve's house? It was killing you. His pain was torture, and you wouldn't forgive yourself if you'd ruined the most important relationship in your life.
You nodded, and patted his leg before climbing out the car, shuffling inside before he could see how concerned you were about him.
You leaned on a wall near the door, just pondering what happened. You woke up in his bed, usually you slept in the guest room, or when you were really drunk you'd even crash on the couch. Did you being in his space make him unhappy? Maybe you were stubborn, refusing to leave his bed until he loved you. But, that didn't seem like something you would do.
A knock on the door kicked you out of your thoughts.
You opened it, and Steve was there, standing still, breathing heavy. When the door fully opened, he nearly sprung at you, not intimidatingly but like... like he couldn't stop himself from scooping up your cheeks in his hands and kissing you.
And Steve was kissing you like a starving man. Like this was the moment he'd waited for his whole life. He was soft, and tender but also desperate and passionate and you could feel everything. You could feel how he felt. Like you were one person. You kissed him back, taken by surprise but delighted. You loved him. And he loved you. And being together like this just felt right.
You moaned, unable to deny the sparks between the two of you for one more moment.
His lips were just so soft, and warm. And as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks soothingly, you thought for sure your knees would buckle from the romance of it all. You swooned, this was real life swooning.
"Tell me you love me," he whispered, barely pulling away to say it. You realize he's crying, barely, lightly, but he is, because this is the scariest thing he's ever done. He thinks that he'll perish, die if you don't actually love him back. And he's immediately returned to kissing you, backing you both up until your back hit the living room wall. "Please," he begged, breathless and desperate to hear it. He had to hear it. He was sure he would die if you didn't say it. He has to know he wasn't wrong to risk it all...
And everything came rushing back. Laying across from Steve, asking him if you were in love. Confessing your love for him and telling him him that you would still love him in the morning...
And you did.
Of course you did.
You think there's a part of you that has loved Steve since the moment you met.
He feels like home. Just being near him makes you feel safe, and comfortable. He was everything you needed, and you two were idiots to wait this long to confess. But, better late than never.
"I love you," you whispered, mumbling against his lips, returning his feverish kisses. His hands trailed down to your hips, gripping tightly and pressing himself into you. Trying to mold himself to you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close as he could get. He was a part of you, a part of your heart.
His tongue rolled into your mouth, and the grip he had on your hips tightened, making you moan again. And then he slowed, kissing you slowly. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, and pulled away, letting it slip out of his grip and back into place. He kissed you tenderly a few times.
"Say it again," he said, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. It wasn't demanding, it was loving. He wanted to hear you say it over and over for the rest of his life.
You were breathless, but you still whispered, "I love you."
"I love you," he said, kissing you one more time. "I can't stop it, I don't want to stop it," he said. "I love you, y/n. And I want to be with you... if you'll have me."
"I love you Steve," you said, relieved that you could just love him without the longing, without the pining, and the hiding. You two were free.
"Again," he demanded, smiling, and the smile made it all the way back to his eyes. And he was himself again.
"Don't want to wear it out," you laughed, pulling him into a hug. And you held him there for a while.
"Never," he whispered, "I'll never get tired of it, I promise you that."
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TAGLIST: @thebeatles-world @thatbItchs-world @plk-18 @pausmoon @onlyangle1
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beautifulplaceofyouth · 5 months
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JJK FF | ROYAL GUARD
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CHAPTER TWELVE | SERIES
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
Ch. 12
When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess
Word count: 3.3k
Rating: 15+
Genre + warnings: Fluff, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Some kissing scenes in public and in private. Also disappointed parents of Y/n, a little drama and preparations for marriage. The story isn't real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!
a/n: a little late again, sorry
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As you were having breakfast in the big dining hall, you heard loud shouts from outside the big doors.
Frowning, you set aside the cup of coffee you were just holding and asked the nearest servant," What's that noise?"
Since Jungkook left for his morning training and territory duties and checking if there's no more trespassers in the palace, you were left alone with nothing to do so first thing you did when you woke up was take a shower and came down for breakfast.
Expecting an answer from the servant, it was the guard who replied. He was a fallen angel like Jungkook and he looked at you from his post.
"You don't need to worry about that, my lady.  His majesty ordered us to keep  watch on all entrances and exits. That's what we're here for anyway" he said with a slight tilt of his head like he was also trying to listen what is going on.
Confused, the shouts got louder before someone banged against the big door.
"Let me in this instant! There is my daughter!" Your father's voice echoed through the palace with your eyes wide.
"Please, my baby is there!" Your mother  yelled as you stood still in shock before the servant ran out, looking frantic. You couldn't believe you just heard those voices right now.
The guard looked at you worriedly but didn't say anything. The only thing that he could do was stand by his post while waiting for further instructions. "What should I tell his majesty?"
Before you can speak, the doors swung open to reveal your dear father and mother in royal attire. They were first who rushed inside the dining hall with the company of other guards behind them.
As you watched your parents looking so worried, you felt relieved that they are safe and sound. No vampires have attacked them but you didn't know how is that possible that they are here, in the Jungkook's kingdom.
Once they saw you,  your father's eyes lit up with relief before he ran toward you, "My daughter" he whispered to you before crushing you in a tight hug.
You hugged him back tightly. He then let go to hold your cheeks so he could study your face in awe before speaking again.
"How long has it been since I last seen you?" Your father asked with teary eyes, a smile plastered on his face.
Feeling confused by all the questions, you said with a smile, "It's not like I didn't see you every day...but why are you here and not at home?" Then after realizing what you said, you quickly added,"Oh, right. I forgot. The vampires."
"Are you all right, honey?" Your mother joined in the conversation, her eyes full of concern.
Since she was never around and only traveling on business trips, you felt weird about her being so worried but you didn't dwell on it too much. The important thing was that your parents are alive.
"How come you're here? Isn't this place hidden from humans?" You asked with confusion.
Your father simply smiled and took your hands in his," It doesn't matter now. Vampires had been terminated from our land and it is safe to go back home. We just wanted to retrieve you ourselves so no harm is done to you and,-" stopping mid sentence, he looks down at your neck like he just saw something strange," What's that collar around your neck?" Your father pointed to your inked mark necklace which appeared when Jungkook marked you.
"Umm, well  -" you started to stutter, feeling shy and embarrassed to explain such a sensitive situation, especially to your parents, when you suddenly heard someone coming inside the dining room with heavy footsteps.
Looking over your father's shoulder, your eyes brightened when your gaze met the eyes of your king. Dressed in his armor, his hair combed back neatly, he looked dangerously attractive when he approached.
Without his wings, he looked like a deadly predator who walked with a purpose ready to attack if necessary.
"Your majesty. Sorry for delay, I wanted to check the palace grounds for any intruders before we come inside but I see you've already met with your daughter," his low voice creates goosebumps on your skin when he walks even more closer.
"Yes and it looks that you kept your promise as she looks fine and well but I think it's time to go home now. It will be best for her if she stays with us before,-"  before your father could finish, a hand grabbed your chin before pulling you into a chaste kiss.
Your eyes widened in surprise as your king crushed you to his metal chest, not even noticing him stepping in front of you since your parents were standing in the way.
"What are you doing?!" Your father shouted and wanted to push Jungkook away from you but is stopped by some unseen force when you finally got to breathe after the kiss your king pulled.
"Did you miss me, darling?" Your soon to be husband grinned when he caressed your jaw lovingly," Sorry to keep you waiting. Hope you had fun without me," smirking, he left another kiss but this time on your cheek.
Smiling at your flushed face, he turned to look at your father then, his eyes going back to black," She is staying with me and we are having a wedding today so don't  interfere. She is safe under my care and we both agree on marrying. If you insist otherwise, I will not hesitate to kill you. I want her by my side so don't test my patience."
Your father still couldn't move but that didn't stop him from protesting," We didn't agree on this! "
"If you don't like this arrangement, then leave now. And it has to be today. We have no choice because the vampire attacks are becoming worse."
"We made a deal that you will marry her when she turns twenty one, till then she lives with her parents. She has responsibilities to hold in her own kingdom! Are you not aware that you're forcing her now? I'm sure you've not even asked her and told her your plan, it's complete nonsense!"  Your father tried reasoning his point of view as he shook his head with disbelief.
Jungkook sighed in annoyance," I played nice and let you see your daughter so don't try to stop this. She already has bonded with me," As to prove a point, he kisses your neck and the collar starts pulsing and glowing  in blue light, causing a wave of magic that makes you gasp out loud.
"That's her answer. You can choose not to support us now or later. But I won't wait anymore. My time is short and I must make her mine immediately."
"Y/n? Are you really going with this? He's not abusing you, isn't he?" Your mother hesitated to ask.
Feeling anger bubble inside you, it was like switch turned off when you hear them judge him so harshly," Yes, I will marry him. He is the one who has always protected me and always will so  don't you ever think about taking him away from me."
"But he could hurt you! He is not even human! How could you even  accept an offer like this!?" Your mother screamed at you before turning to your father," Your daughter doesn't even listens to us anymore. Do something!"
"I think she made up her mind already and I want to know only one thing, Y/n. Do you really love him?" Your father asked as he held your hands in his.
Nodding your head yes without hesitation, you look straight at your father," Yes I love him with everything I have. He has protected me and brought me into his home and he is the first person who truly cares about me. That's why I chose to stay here with him."
Turning to Jungkook, he looks even more hungry after hearing your confession.
Pulling you to him, his eyes glow from the emotions  coursing through him and his words become husky," This is why I will marry her. No one ever will take her from me again."
"And when do you intend to get married? There needs to be  a ceremony in the palace so we might as well start the preparations now." Your mother suggested.
"Let's just start immediately," Jungkook spoke, cutting your parents off before anyone can say anything else.
Your father looks at him  with shock written on his face," Right away? Just like that? But preparations,-"
"Are not necessary," Jungkook cut him off again," That's why you're here. You will be our witnesses to our marriage if you wish to participate. If not, my guards will gladly escort you out but you don't want your daughter sad or disappointed, right?"
With that your father nods in defeat.
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The dress was tight enough  for the top of your shoulders to show a little bit of your pale skin. It was also sleeveless and a very thin layer of material that covered your arms and neck.
The dress was decorated with tiny crystals hanging from the straps that attached to the gown with delicate jewels scattered throughout. It was beautiful nonetheless.
"Can I do your makeup, your highness?" A maid asks you.
When you nod, you watch as she takes some powder, lipstick and blush to put on your rosy cheeks while you sit patiently on a chair.
You were afraid that your hair would have gotten messy during the process but the maids reassured you that you shouldn't worry since their hands were as gentle as they could be.
Once finished dressing your hair, the maid carefully brushes your long hair, careful not to mess it up until your hair falls naturally onto your face. You look pretty and beautiful in your new dress.
Once the maid finishes styling your hair, she gives you the mirror," I hope you feel satisfied your highness. The color suits you so well."
"I think so too," you smile at her softly and then your smile drops when your mother walks inside your chambers and smiles warmly at you.
"How are you sweetheart? You look beautiful in that dress," She compliments you softly.
You turn your head away from her," Thanks, mother,"  trying not to frown at her kind words, your mother seems to notice how unhappy you were about something.
"What's wrong?" Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion.
"It's just that...." Your eyes started watering again.
You wanted to tell her everything but you knew that she wouldn't really care. She never was around in the palace when you grew up. She only came back from her trips once or twice  a year which was the reason why you barely saw each other.
Her visits meant nothing but now, you realized that you missed the feeling of being around her more than you had thought.
"I just...," not knowing how to say it, your mother sits next to you on a chair, pity in her gaze.
"Is it his majesty? You're not happy with him? It's not too late to back out and you can come with us home. It would be better if,-"
"No! It's nothing like that! I love him! " Your voice gets louder as tears started falling faster down your face.
Your mother looked surprised at first, unsure about how to react," You love him?"
You nodded your head," I've loved him since forever. Since the moment I met him, I've been fascinated by him. But I didn't realize what' i felt when I became attracted to him. When he kissed me, when he smiled at me, the feelings intensified. Then I fell in love with him and I couldn't imagine my life without him. So please, help me, mom. Tell dad to back down from his stupid demands but promise that you'll support me in getting married today!"
"Why wouldn't I support you?"
"You've never been by my side when I needed to make my own decisions. It was my father who always made sure I was okay so of course I'm asking you for support. You owe me that much, mother.”
She sighed deeply," I really don't agree with this agreement though. I want you to choose someone better than this man, someone worthy of you. Someone who can give you the happiness you deserve. He may seem handsome and caring yet deep down inside he has selfish desires and he's just using you. Your father didn't told you that he is trying to go back to heaven once he proves himself worthy, did he?"
Confused, you frown at her," He said something about proving himself to the higher angels once he is done building his kingdom here but he never said anything about going back to heaven. I'm sure you've misunderstood something,"
"I think he's planning to betray you, Y/n."
"What?"
"He said that once he finds proof that he is worthy, he will return to heaven. So I advise for you to think before you jump into this marriage,"
"There's no point in thinking about it. Even if he does find proofs against him, he'll still come back to me anyway. He loves me more than any single word ever written. We are perfect together, mom. Everything about our story is true," you argue with her.
Smiling sadly at you, your mother shook her head," I'm sorry my dear. Maybe you'll understand someday in time but don't you think that marrying this man is a huge mistake?"
"No. I've already made the decision long ago. I've chosen him and no matter what happens later, we will get through it together so stop trying to stop me."
"But you're the heir to the throne! You have responsibilities and people to think of! You can't leave your kingdom behind because of one selfish man. Think about your future! What's going to happen to us if you decide to marry him and there is no one who continues to run the kingdom?!"
"Mom," You whisper.
Sighing heavily, your mother runs her fingers through her curly hair. "Just, please think about this seriously. Don't do this. Please, please reconsider." With these last words, she got up from her seat and leaves your chambers.
Closing your door quietly behind her, the maid who was doing your makeup comes back inside since she left so you can talk to your mother in private.
"What happened to your eyes, your highness? Were you crying?"
"It's nothing. My mother and I had a disagreement over something. She doesn't believe in marriage so I think I'm free to decide what will happen to our kingdoms once I am married," You smile at her, hoping it would ease her worries, but she simply shakes her head and goes back to applying makeup to you.
When she finishes, she dismisses herself with a bow and lets you know that everyone has gathered in the throne room for the ceremony. Thanking her, you let yourself breathe for a moment before you walk out yourself.
Trying to calm your nerves, the sudden sensation over your shoulder makes you shiver and you glance over to see Jungkook standing by the window.
"When did you get here?" You ask nervously.
Then you notice his royal suit for the ceremony.
Completely black but for the white cape that hangs loosely on his shoulders which is strapped by shiny black gem stones.
His expression is unreadable as he stares at you. His hands are tucked behind his back and he is leaning against the wall besides the window.
"A couple minutes ago," He answers simply.
Taking another deep breath, you lower your gaze and try to control your nerves.
"Uh-it's a bad sign if you see the bride before the wedding,"  You joke as you laugh humorlessly, your heart rate picking up the pace.
"Oh yeah?"  He asks with interest.
You swallow hard. "Yeah. That means we're going to fight."
Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he tries to hold back a grin," Is that so?" He says playfully.
"Mhm," You answer nodding your head, agreeing with whatever he says even though you weren't sure anymore.
Your conversation with mother still clouded your mind and you were afraid to  speak again about something related to it. After taking a few more deep breaths, you decide to bring up the topic.
"So...," You clear your throat, trying not to stutter." When did you really came inside? I would've seen you because I was only here with one of your maids. She helped me dress up."
"Oh? I thought saw your mother walking out of our bedroom."
Waiting for you to deny, you nodded your head," Yes, she was here."
"What did you two talk about?"
"Nothing important." You lie.
He walks closer to you, making you feel nervous all of the sudden. You could smell his strong cologne as he leans in, staring intensely at you.
His eyes seem to stare into your soul as you try to not hover in place.
"Lying doesn't suit you, princess." He flashes his teeth in a sharp smile.
"What makes you say that?" You ask sarcastically.
He smiles even wider," I heard every word your mother told you. About how she doesn't approve our marriage, our relationship and that I'm just using you to my own benefit."
"H-how?" You manage to utter as you blink twice, not knowing how even he knew that.
"I know everything, love. " He takes a step back.
You shake your head in disbelief," How is this possible? Are you able to spy on people from outside their walls? Does it have to do with your magic or special hearing?"
"Both of them, darling,"  He chuckles.
"How..?"
Jungkook shrugs," Because I'm a guardian angel. There aren't many things I don't know or couldn't find out about someone who's supposed to be my queen. I'm a protector,"
"So you can read my mind too?"
"No, I can't read minds. But I've known you for years to know what you think and right now you are thinking about if that's true what your mother said."
"You mean about that you're going to heaven after  you prove yourself to the higher angels?" You question as you look at him with uncertainty.
He smiles," Are you scared that I will leave you?"
"No,"  you say immediately, shaking your head with conviction." No, never."
"I'm glad. The longer that I spend with you, the easier it is for me to believe that the universe decided to pair you with me. I know for a fact you wouldn't survive without me, especially when our souls are connected. Our souls are linked. That means if something bad ever happens to either of us then the other will die along with the person."
"We're already bonded, Jungkook. It's impossible for something bad to happen. We'll figure this out together."
Nodding his head at you, he replies," We will. And don't worry about your mother. If she believes we should break up, I'll take care of it. As long as you're happy and safe with me. As long as I'm around you. No one can separate you from me. Trust me,"  He whispers, placing his hand on your cheek softly.
You nod your head as tears begin to fall down your face. "Thank you. I love you. I really do,"
Pulling you close to him, he hugs you tightly, whispering to your ear," I really do, too." Kissing your neck lightly he adds," Now come on, let's go before they think we're late so lets get married, shall we?"
"Wait, Jungkook," you grab his sleeve," You didn't say anything about my dress."
The corners of his lips tug upward," You look beautiful."
"You think so?" You blush lightly.
"Of course," He says, his voice dropping low and sending chills down your spine.
"Now come on, princess, I'll take good care of you so that you'll never forget."
Smiling shyly, you follow him out of the room.
Be continued…
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p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners
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kenphobia · 1 year
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HEART STUTTER!
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"you're the absolute most."
summary. wally headcanons with a gender-neutral who isn't good at talking, uses vague wording and confuses smiliar sounding words with each other. ( headcanons / rewritten / see end notes)
contents. fluff i think. possibly ooc too. barnaby teasing the heck out of wally. take the L, wallace, take it.
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✦ Wally finds it oddly charming, for some inexplicable reason. He tries his best to understand you and somehow he knows what you're trying to say better than you could. He does let you explain for yourself, but once you turn to him with those pitiful eyes of yours, he couldn't help but finish your words for you.
✦ In some way, Wally understands how you feel. He is a charming little puppet but even so, he slurs his speech a lot which at times make him sound drunk and inaudible.
✦ Whenever you misuse and confuse words, Wally will use context clues to figure out what you're saying. To him, it's like a little puzzle game and he enjoys it very much. He does wonder how you can say typos out loud, concerning but he eats with his eyes so he can't complain.
✦ He'll always reassure you that your speech is fine and that you can take your time figuring what to say. You look better smiling than with your brows creased like that, so cheer up!
✦ Out of all of the neighbors, he understands you the most. You could refer to food as "Biting things" and he'll fetch some for you instantly, he makes a few mistakes at times and he apologizes deeply. Wally doesn't like making assumptions, especially if those assumptions makes you upset at yourself.
✦ Wally could pick up your vague wording the more he spends time with you. He wouldn't notice it until Barnaby mention it.
"And so, (Name) and I went to fetch the things from Poppy's place before coming to meet you all here." Wally vaguely gestured to the food laid on the picnic blanket underneath them, his eyes drifting you chatting and helping Julie fly her kite.
The larger puppet nodded his head, smiling almost teasingly. Wally quirked a brow at Barnaby's sudden weird attitude.
"Is there a problem, Barnaby?" Wally questioned.
"Oh no, it's nothing." Barnaby shrugged, taking his tobacco pipe from his mouth and into his large paw. He glanced over to you and Julie before turning back to Wally. "So, you and (Name), huh?"
"... Yes, we are an item, Barnaby. Is there something wrong?"
"Nope! It's just that you're so in love with them that you're already copying them." Barnaby chuckled. He took a breath in and blew out from his pipe.
"I'm—" Wally paused, his brows furrowed. "I don't think I follow what you mean, Barnaby. I do love them, in fact I am madly captivated by them, but I don't think I'd be so inclined to do the same things as they do."
"Oh yeah?" Wally raised a jesting brow. "Then, tell me what you were doing before the picnic." He gestured to the picnic set before the two of them.
"Well, that's easy!" Wally clapped his hands joyfully. "I woke up, finished some evenings, no, paintings! Yes, those things. Then, um, I met up with you all to talk about things and after cat— that! I went with (Name) to get the stuff from Poppy's and— Oh good lord."
Barnaby letted out a roaring of laughter and patted Wally's back. "You see what I mean now?"
Wally nodded silently, dumbfounded by how oblivious he was towards his speech. He was usually self-aware, watchful and cautious about the way he acts yet he managed you fumble over his words. Right in front of his best friend too.
"I guess they got your tongue tied?"
"Barnaby, kindly shut up for once."
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author's note. i amr ushing, I am RUSHING!!!! this was requested by @ssvv-cc but i accidentally answered their ask with the wrong contents and i deleted it so um terribly sorry :')) i might upload the last one but for now, let me cry in shame
again, my requests are always open. do note that im not a welcome home writer but i do writer many other things <33 /nm
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bpsmuts · 1 year
Text
Truth or Dare - Rose [PART 2]
Part 1 here
Rose x Male Reader
Words: 1.090
Summary: Rose keeps her side of the deal and returns the favor, before things escalate....
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You look deep into her eyes as Rose gets closer and cuddles up next to you. You two are watching Finding Nemo and just passed a sad scene, that left Rosie sniffling next to you.
"Come here babe" you console her. "You know Y/N its just so sad, how is this fish gonna find his son??" Rose stammers. As the extremely adorable girl next to you continues to sniffle you suddenly begin to feel a little hazy.
It gets even weirder as something in the room starts to make suction and slurp sounds. You finally open your eyes and realize what had happened. You were sleeping... dreaming... of Rose.
The sounds however continued and you felt awfully nice. You look down and see the Kiwi Girl with her beautiful white and purple hair between your spread legs.
She is in the middle of softly taking your hard dick into her mouth and sucking on it ever so slightly. Since she hasn't noticed you yet, you try to stay quiet and enjoy it for just a little longer, but as Rose took your dick out of her mouth and continued to lick and kiss it you couldn't help yourself.
"Mhhhh.." you moan. The girl stops and looks up at you. "I was wondering how long it was gonna take" Rose responds in her sweet New Zealand accent. You still seem a little lost, so Rose continues "I'm returning the favor... you know... from last night".
"Oh.. y-yeah" you stumble. "Anything wrong Y/N?" she asks you. "No.. its just, I was dreaming of you, before I woke up" you answer Rose's question.
"Dreaming of me? What happened?" Rosie asked as she continued to slowly stroke your length. "We were watching Finding Nemo and you were devastated when Nemo lost his dad". Rose cant help herself but to burst out laughing in the sweetest laugh you've ever heard.
"It is a very emotional movie you know" she smirks as she lowers herself, placing her mouth right in front of your dick. "Well, should I continue or do you want to reminisce about your dream?" Rose asks you.
Feeling the girl's breath on your tip acted like a spark and you instantly became horny again, totally forgetting about the absurd dream. "Please Rosie" you respond.
She smiles as she lowers her head, licking your length from the base to the tip before letting it glide into her mouth. Seeing and feeling her head move up and down almost hypnotized you.
"A-Aah Rosie" you stutter as the sweet kiwi girl continues to give you the single best blowjob you've ever received. You could definitely see, why so many guys liked her back in High School, now.
You can feel yourself getting closer as Rose pushes your dick further into her mouth taking your entire length with gagging only slightly. "Ooooohh my god babe" you moan surprised.
"Babe?" Rose asks stopping briefly. "Sorry Rosie, just slipped out" you respond getting a little red. "Its alright love" Rose reassures you before continuing.
"I'm getting close Rosie" you moan. Rose slows down and then comes to a complete stop. She moves up a little. "How about we have some real fun?" she asks seductively. "Are you sure this is a good idea Rose? I don't want to ruin anything between us or have it be weird" you speak out.
"Why would it be weird Y/N? We've already had Oral Sex, why not have Vaginal Sex?" she asks "Plus you'd get to shoot your load inside me" she adds in a very erotic manner.
"Fine" you say before pulling her close and starting to kiss her. Rose sinks into the kiss and before you know it, the two of you are making out. As you roughly kiss each other, your hands slowly move onto Rose's ass, squeezing it slightly.
You get a moan of approval from Rose and your hand continues its way a little further down until it reaches her core. You instantly feel how wet Rosie is and start to move your finger up and down her pussy.
"How are you so good at this?" Rose asks in between moans before meeting your lips once again. Your finger now being wet as well, you slowly push it inside Rosie's vagina, earning you more and louder moans from the sweet kiwi girl.
You continue to finger her for a while before she breaks the kiss. "P-Please Y/N... I'm ready" Rose tells you as she sits up and aligns her pussy with your dick before she slowly slides down onto you.
You instantly feel her tight folds wrapping around your length as both of you let out moans of pleasure. Once you're completely inside Rosie, she quickly takes off the white t-shirt that she had been wearing since last night, giving you full view on her boobs.
Rose then starts to move up and down, letting out heavy moans with it. Your hands move onto her boobs for the first time and you can't help but smile as you play with them.
She picks up on that "Y-Y-You like em?" she stammers in between moans. "I do Rosie" you let her know.
Rosie continues to move up and down on your dick, giving both of you the pleasure you haven't had in ages. "I'm getting close" Rose moans loudly. "Me too Rosie" you exhale gasping for more air.
You can feel your cum about to shoot, right as Rose's walls contract around your length. Shortly after you finally shoot your load deep into Rose who has stopped moving and is now sitting on top of you leaning on your shoulders for support.
Rose shrieks as she feels your cum inside her and reaches her climax shortly after, before collapsing on top of you.
You both catch your breath for a moment before Rose moves off your dick, dropping some of your semen onto it. "Oops.. let me get that" she says, turning you on again.
She moves lower and once again taker you entire length into her mouth, sucking your dry and showing you her tongue, with your cum on it before swallowing.
"Oh my god Rose.. why are you so hot?" you ask her while still catching your breath. "Yeah... says you Y/N" Rose replies.
You two both lie next to each other, catching your breath before Rose breaks the silence. "Breakfast?". "Only if we stay naked" you answer.
"Haven't had enough of the sight yet? I get it." Rose responds before getting up.
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pinievsev · 1 year
Text
It's hereeee!
Rise & Shine
(part one!)
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[part 1/part 2]
Seungmin X GN!reader
Coffee shop au
Fluff!☁️
As always, requests are open and masterlist is pinned! This turned out longer than expected but I got sleepy after one point so it got a bit bad!
Tags: { @laskyy }
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Seungmin rushed out of his apartment building as soon as he grabbed his bag, he woke up late and hadn't had time to eat or drink anything as he was supposed to be helping jeongin learn a choreography he was struggling with.
He quickly turned a corner, stopping in his tracks as he saw a shop he had never seen before, a bright, yellow sun decoration the the glass of the small building and the sign flashing beautiful colours of orange and yellow. It read "rise & shine".
Seungmin debated wether or not he had time and decided to check it out. He was already late anyway, he'd apologize to jeongin later. He pushed the glass door open the light jingling of the bell hang on it alerting you. You stood up from your spot kneeling behind the counter arranging some cakes on the display case.
The second he saw you his eyes shone and all the sleepiness faded away, he walked towards the counter looking up at the menu behind you. You stood there, patiently waiting for him to decide what to get. In the meantime you studied his features. Not in a weird way!
You noticed the way he frowned his eyebrows when he struggled to read something on the board, the way he held his bag behind him with one hand and the way he smiled wide when he found something he liked.
Finally he looked back at you with the cutest smile you've ever seen. "Could I get aaa- Chai latte?" He questioned as if you'd refuse. You nodded "of course! You can take a sit while I get that ready for you, what's your name? For- for the drink I mean" you pointed at the high chairs Infront of the counter near by. "my name's seungmin! Oh and uh- would you maybe be quick? I'm already really late" you nodded and quickly turned to get started on his drink.
You finished up as quickly as you could, leaning over the counter to call him over from where he had sat down. As soon as he heard you call his name he looked up like a deer in headlights making you chuckle to yourself. You didn't know what it was, but just something about him made your heart do backflips, even though you had only exchanged a few words.
He sped walked up to the counter, placing exactly the amount of money he needed to Infront of you and some extra in the empty tip jar, 'he probably checked the price on the menu' you thought. You nodded and he grabbed his drink thanking you and turning to leave. Just as he was about to exit he heard you call out to him "Have a nice day, seungmin!"
He turned around quickly but you had already disappeared behind the display case, continuing from where you had left off arranging the cakes.
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Over the next couple of weeks seungmin visited the shop constantly early in the morning so he wouldn't be late to wherever he had to be.
Today, was one of those normal days, or so you thought. little did you know, seungmin had started falling for you just like you had started falling for him, he had even told the group and Han insisted on going with him once, claiming that he (seungmin) wouldn't make a move without his help.
You looked up at the all too familiar sound of the bells, the light inside the store was dim as you had opened a little late and didn't have time to set up yet seungmin and his friend walked over to the counter, he gave you his cute little smile and your heart melted "Rise and shine~" you said like you had stared to do every day, it started off as a pun due to the name of the shop and since it was early.
"the usual?" You asked already knowing the answer he nodded and just as you were about to turn around you heard the voice of his friend "uhm- excuse me?" You swiftly turned back "right! Sorry! What can I get for you uh-?" "Han, Han jisung, and I'll have a hot chocolate!" You nodded and turned to get started on the order as seungmin led Han to his usual sit.
This is how it usually was, you'd only exchange a few words and you'd make his drink as he sat in his spot on the counter, wishing him a good day as he left the shop, the silence drove Han insane, how could seungmin even TRY to ask you out when he only knew your name, and that from the name tag pinned on your apron.
"dude. Seriously you should go talk to her" seungmin glared at him "I can't. It's been like this for weeks! What If she's just not interested and is nice to everyone?!" The two silently argued as you finished up their cups. "Seungmin, Han!" You called quietly placing their orders on the counter "on the house" you announced, out of nowhere.
"whoa! I should come round here more often then" Han joked, getting on seungmin's last nerve. "Sure. Whatever ya say" you joked crossing your arms. Han grabbed his chocolate and slowly walked backwards nudging a nervous looking seungmin. "everything okay?" You questioned "yup! Everything is fine! I just uh, I had a question" you leaned on the counter to show you were listening prompting your chin on your palms as your elbows rested on the counter.
"right, uh. So would you, maybe go on a date with me?" His voice sounded almost broken, like a child admitting to breaking it's mum's favourite vase.
"oh, seungmin I'd love that but-" his face immediately dropped making your heart shatter "I don't have much free time, work and college at once isn't that easy" you said your eyes basically screaming apologies his way "well if that's the case. I'll come by tomorrow as early as possible, take the day off and hang around here. We'll consider that a date, and since summer is near we'll go on a proper one then?" The hope in his voice made butterflies appear in your stomach and you were basically looking at him with heart eyes "yeah, yeah sure, if that's okay we can do that!" You spoke excitedly yet softly.
The next day. He did as promised, Han would cover for him and he would spend the day at the shop with you. And so he did, making conversation and getting to know eachother as you worked. He stayed until you closed. The lights dimmed and the store deserted apart from the two of you "thanks for today, Minnie!"
He blushed at the nickname and thanked no one on particular for the fact that it was dark and you couldn't see "it was really fun, and not as stressful with you around!" You admitted as you took off your apron and and stretched, yawning. "Of course! I mean, it was really fun!" He agreed, unsure of what to say. You decided to be bold and hugged the boy, pulling away when he didn't return the favour only for him to pull you back in for another hug.
"but I'm tired" he added to his previous statement "you tell me about it" you chuckled pulling away and plopping down on one of the couches in the corner. Seungmin following suit falling down next to you, he placed an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer, he yawned and rested his head on yours his eyes fluttering shut "Seungmin, you need to go home!" You chuckled and he made a 'no' sound (help idk how to explain it) like a toddler refusing to eat it's food.
"let me lock up, at least?" You decided not to argue. You'd be stupid to do so. He agreed letting you go and you quickly locked up from the inside, returning to your seat and he took his previous position. Quickly falling asleep. You close behind. Your arms wrapped around eachother.
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darkness-and-books · 6 months
Text
The Things We Do For The Fleet
Chapter 1: Rise and Shine
Eventual Leonard McCoy x fem!reader
⚠️: some language
word count: 615
Next->
~also orange italics are Y/N’s thoughts and blue italics are Leonard’s thoughts~
~orange star and moon divider indicates POV change, this same divider is by @cafekitsune~
“WHAT IN SAM HILL DO YOU MEAN” someone a few doors or maybe even decks down screamed. And that is how Y/N woke up. Did anyone really need to be so loud, Y/N thought to herself as she pushed a pillow over her head
“Maybe if I try hard enough I’ll stop hearing whatever bozo feels the need to yell at 5 in the morning” Y/N groaned quietly into her bed. She only had thirty more minutes before her alarm went off, couldn’t the yelling have waited until then?
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Leonard’s video communicator pinged at about the same time his alarm went off, whoever it is has lost their goddamn mind he thought as he sauntered over to answer it. “Of course it’s you” Leonard grumbled to himself angrily. “Don’t be so excited to see me” Kirk joked much to jovially given the early hour.
“If it isn’t an emergency then I’m submitting my resignation” Leonard threatened. “No you won’t, you care too much for my safety” Kirk shot back. Damnit, I wish he wasn’t right Leonard sighed, but just waited for Kirk to continue.
“It’s not an emergency, but it is important” Kirk paused before continuing, “We are temporarily, short on rooms” Kirk said, avoiding looking at the screen. “What exactly do you mean? None of this dancing around crap” Leonard urged.
“What I mean is that the power in one of the personnel quarters decks has gone down so until engineering fixes it some of the personnel have to share quarters and you’re one of them” Kirk rushed in one breath and now looked around nervously.
“WHAT IN THE SAM HILL DO YOU MEAN” Leonard screamed at the video communicator. “It’ll only be for a little while” Kirk tried to assure him. “I don’t care, why me?!?” Leonard demanded in irritation. “I really just picked from the top of the duty roster, I’m sorry Bones” Kirk apologised.
Leonard sighed, he couldn’t stay mad at Kirk forever, “Fine, Fine, who do you have me roomed with?” Leonard inquired with one hand on his hip and the other carding through his messy hair.
Kirk hesitated a moment before finally sharing that information, “Well you’ll be rooming with- and please keep in mind that your roommate was just whoever was the next person down on the roster- Y/N” Kirk informed him timidly, while fiddling with said roster.
“That, that sounds like a girl’s name, are you sure?” Leonard questioned suspiciously. “I’m certain, and I can’t really change it because you’re the last person I told and everyone else is already happy with their rooming situations” Kirk stated quickly
“Does Y/N know yet?” Leonard asked as he massaged his temples. “No, I was gonna call her next” Kirk did his best to smile as he said it. “No, don’t bother I’ll tell her” Leonard sighed. the last thing I need is for this is for this corn-fed loon to make it weird for the poor girl.
“You’ll need to be in one room by next Wednesday, we’re making a stop at the next federation planet for more beds next Tuesday. So you can decide how you want to get a second bed into the room for yourselves. You’ll have to let me know which room you’re taking, hers or yours, on this Friday so that I can sort people from deck six into new rooms accordingly” Kirk said as he seemed to have regained some of his confidence. “Kirk out” he signed off without giving Leonard time to argue.
I don’t even know where Y/N’s quarters are, let alone how to tell her that we’re rooming together, Leonard thought as he began getting dressed for the day.
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Hope you like, I’ll do the next chapter soon I promise!!!
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dees-writing-corner · 2 years
Text
forever and more - chapter 5
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word count: 2107
pairing: ateez x fem!reader
warning: none
if anyone wants to join the taglist, just message <3
feedback and theories are welcome, please do send in any that you have, I would love to hear them 👀👀
also, thank you @layzfeelit for being my beta reader 🥰
masterlist
previous
Sighing, I placed my mug on the counter before looking up at Mingi and San. 
"Alright, out with it. What's going on with the pair of you? Do I have something on my face? Because the two of you have been staring at me since we woke up." 
The two looked at each other for a minute, silently debating who should ask the question. 
"So," Mingi looked back at me, cautiously opening his mouth. "Did you have any weird dreams last night, like you were floating or something? Or feel something weird?" 
"Huh? What?" 
"You were just very, umm, active? You were moving around quite a bit." 
Tilting my head to the side, "No dreams or anything, it was actually one of the most peaceful nights I've had in a long time." 
"Right, we were just -" 
'Ding Dong' 
Furrowing my brows, I leaned forward and looked down the corridor. 
"Was that – is that our doorbell?" 
Looking back at the boys, they both looked just as confused as I did. 
San nodded, "I believe so, yes." 
"Since when have we had a door -" 
'Ding Dong' 
"Oop, never mind, let me just answer that real quick." 
Hurrying down the corridor, I opened the large wooden door and was met with a familiar-looking woman. 
"Hi, can I help you with anything?" 
"Good morning, dear, I'm here for Yeosang." 
Stepping aside, I held the door open, "He's in town right now, but he should be back soon. Why don't you come in and wait for him." 
Closing the door, I led her into the living room. 
"Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea?" 
"That’s quite alright dear." The woman looked at me for a minute before recognition lit up in her eyes. "Your Jenna's niece, aren't you? Y/N, was it?" 
Smiling slightly, I was a bit confused, "Yes, that's right. Were you and my Aunt Jenna close?" 
"We were best friends. I used to come up every weekend and she would always mention you at some point. Jenna was really fond of you." 
Laughing, I nodded, "That does sound like her." 
"Oh, where are my manners. I'm Janice Hunter. You can call me Mrs Hunter." 
Ah, that's why she looked familiar. She was the one who wanted to talk to Yeosang yesterday when we were in town. 
"Hey, who was it at the -" Mingi and San froze at the archway. "- door." 
Mrs Hunter turned to look at the newcomers and the moment she saw them, a smile spread across her face. 
"San! Mingi! Oh, it's so good to see you again! It's been so long!" 
Arching a brow, I tilted my head to the side, my eyes travelling between the three of them. 
"You, uh, you three know each other?" 
San snapped out of whatever daze he was in and hastily nodded, "Yeah! Remember when Mingi and I would use to go to that little, like, café slash bookstore to study? Well, Mrs Hunter owned it." 
Mrs Hunter looked back and forth at us before her gaze landed on San and Mingi, "Yes. I used to own a coffee shop with my husband." 
Squinting my eyes at the two, I nodded, still sceptical at what they were saying, "Right." 
Hearing an engine in the distance, I glanced out the window, "Ah, that would be the boys. Excuse me for a minute, I'm just gonna go help them." 
Opening the door, I walked towards the car, where the boys were getting everything out of the boot. 
"Hey, Yeo?" 
"Yeah?" 
Taking the bags from his grasp, I motioned my head to the house, "Mrs Hunter is in the living room waiting for you." 
Yeosang blinked, "I'm sorry, she's what?" 
"She's in the living room. Waiting." 
Yeosang made a face before jogging into the house. 
Looking away from his figure, I looked back at Jongho. 
"Where are we bringing these to?" 
"The old servant's quarter at the back of the house." 
"The old ser – eh?" 
Jongho chuckled as he started walking along a path at the side of the house. 
"Come on. I'll show you where it is. We use it as extra storage space now." 
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Yeosang led Mrs Hunter into the study on the third floor. 
"What brings you here today, Janice?" 
Yeosang sat down at a desk, Mrs Hunter in front of him. 
"Remember what I said yesterday? I found out who has the head." 
Yeosang leaned in closer. 
"Garett Killins has it. You know him, right? He's the -" 
Yeosang's face darkened at the mention of the name. 
"Of course, I know him." 
"Well, the pack are in the area right now. It's best to make a move soon. Though I must warn you, they are guarding the head. It won't be easy to get." 
Yeosang nodded, "Thank you, Janice, we'll figure something out." 
Mrs Hunter got up from the chair, "Well, I'll be off then. I still have to head over to the blood bank to get some more packs." 
Hearing the door shut, Yeosang got up from the chair and made his way to the window. 
"I take it that you heard?" 
Yeosang's gaze never left Seonghwa's figure as a someone materialised beside him. 
"Of course. We best make a plan quickly. I want my head as far away from those mutts as possible." 
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After we finished dinner, I went into the living room to look for my phone before spotting it on the mantelpiece. 
Slipping the phone into my pocket, my gaze landed on the little wooden box beside it. Gently unclasping it, I opened the lid and saw an old metal key inside. Picking it up, I saw something engraved in the handle. Basement. 
Frowning, I started to walk around. I didn’t know we had a basement here. 
Walking into the corridor, I looked at all the doors lined along it. Stairs, dining room, ballroom, parlour. I knew all these. 
Moving into the kitchen, I sat down at the table, leaning into the chair as I crossed my arms across my chest. Where else could there be a door? 
Turning my neck aside, I loosened some of the tension in my muscles. 
Looking back ahead, my gaze landed on the tapestry next to the fridge. It was long enough to cover a door. 
Getting up, I walked over to it and pushed it aside. There was nothing. It was just a wall. 
Running my hand over the wood, I paused when felt a draft. 
Okay. Maybe not just a wall. 
Moving my hand up, I felt along the wooden panels until one of them wobbled under my fingertips. Gently pushing into the panel, it swung open. Behind the wooden panels was a worn oak door.  
Holding up the key, I slid it into the lock and turned. 
‘Click’ 
Turning the doorknob, I pushed the door open. In front of me was a dimly lit stone passage. 
Closing the wooden panel and door behind me, I moved along the passage. Stopping at the top of some metal stairs that spiralled downwards. 
Pulling out my phone, I turned on the flashlight and looked down. These stairs went deeper than I thought. 
Carefully making my way down, I noticed drawings and runes carved into the stone wall. They looked exactly like those engraved on the handrails in the stairway. 
Reaching the bottom, I flipped the light switch and watched as rows of lights flickered on, one after another. 
The basement was huge, and it had corridors that led to God knows where. Walking to the middle of the room, I looked down at the table there. It was a large, circular wooden table that had jars and books on it. On two sides of the room were walls covered in shelves, one had old leather-bound books and the other had jars of liquid and herbs. 
Walking over to the books, I scanned over them. The Green Witch: Your Complete Guide to the Natural Magic of Herbs, Flowers, Essential Oils and More. Witchcraft: A Handbook of Magic Spells and Potions. 
Why does Aunt Jenna have a basement full of witch stuff? 
Raising a brow, I pulled out ‘The Witches Book of Self-Care’. 
"Huh. Even witches had a self-care guide." 
Curious, I flipped through the pages, stopping when I saw a letter. 
Taking it out, I noticed that it was addressed to me. 
I just knew you were going to pick this book. 
Hello, Y/N. 
If you're reading this, then it's because I'm dead. This means that Rora Manor and everything inside it will be yours. 
I know that you probably have a lot of questions, and you'll find the answers to them, just not in this letter. 
What I'm going to say is going to be a shock to you, but you must believe me on this. 
Your parents and I have kept a secret from you. We didn't think you could handle it. But seeing as we're all gone. You have to know. 
We're witches. 
Our family have worked with hunters for centuries. More specifically, the Harpers. 
Quickly reading through the letter, I shook my head in disbelief. 
Was this some sort of joke? 
Clutching the letter in my hand, I made my way upstairs and towards the living room. 
As I made my way closer to the living room, I could hear people talking in hushed voices. Slowing down, I quietly walked over. 
"...how long do we have left?" "she's almost ready to...." "I may not have enough..." 
"What's going on?" 
Everyone whipped their head around to look at me, but my gaze never left the blond man standing in the middle of the room. 
"You – Your- Your" 
The man grinned before walking, no, floating over to where I was. 
"Hello, I'm Hongjoong." 
Blinking, I looked through his slightly transparent form. 
"You –You're supposed to be dead." 
"Not quite. My body's just in pieces." 
Walking past him, I stared at the others with wide eyes, "Please tell me I haven't gone crazy and that you can see him." 
Wooyoung quickly got up and ushered me into a seat, afraid that I was going to faint. 
"Listen, we know it's a-" 
Wooyoung was cut off by someone opening the front door. 
"We're back. The pack of wol-" 
Yunho stopped in his tracks when he saw me, causing San to bump into him. 
"What are you do- oh." 
The second my eyes landed on their form my heart stopped. They were covered in blood. 
"Is that – Is that blood?" 
"Don't worry. It's not theirs." 
Turning my head to look at Yeosang, he looked confused as to why everyone was staring at him. 
"What? I'm just trying to ease her worry." 
Shaking my head, "I – That doesn't – If anything, it makes me more worried." 
Closing my eyes, I put my head in my hands. 
"You know," Jongho moved from where he was leaning against the wall. "You're a lot more calm than I thought you would be." 
"If I went into hysterics now, I might just not come out of it." 
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The next few hours were filled with a lot of explaining and if I'm being honest, I'm still hoping that this is just a very long nightmare. 
"Okay, I think I've got it. So, Yunho, Jongho and Yeosang are vampires. Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are witches. Hongjoong is only temporarily a ghost because his body is in bits. This is where I come in. I have some powerful magic that is currently awakening, and once it's at its full power, I can do some finger waving and piece the body back together." 
Looking up, I saw them all nod. 
"San is a hunter from the Harper family and Mingi is a human turned phoenix. The only reason San is still alive and Mingi got turned into a phoenix is because you eight are connected and when you tried to save San and Mingi's life, something happened and now everyone can't die." 
Seeing everyone nod again I threw my head back. 
"And here I thought Supernatural's plot was ridiculous." 
Standing up, I made my way towards the stairs, "I think that's enough for one day. I'm gonna go to bed and hopefully, when I wake up in the morning, I'll just find out all of this was just some weird dream. Goodnight." 
Walking up the stairs, I looked at the pictures that hung along the wall. When my gaze landed on one of a forest, a sudden dizziness took over me, and before I know it, everything went black. 
The last thing I heard was the panicked shouts from the boys. 
next
taglist: @marievllr-abg @jackinmyarea @lexiigom @nichobins @babyhailey819 @darkdayelixer @starillusion13
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dyns33 · 2 years
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Flufftober 16 - The Corinthian
The Corinthian x Reader 
Well... Hmm... “fluff’ may not be the right word for this one. 
And yes, female reader, sorry. He’s beautiful with male lovers, I see him as bisexual/pansexual, ready to take everyone. 
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"He must have loved you very much. No doubt he still does."
Y/N felt like throwing up every time she remembered that sentence. She didn't know who said that, it was very confusing, but anyway she knew it was wrong.
Because her killer hadn't loved her. Oh, he had been very convincing, during the weeks they had been together. A real fairy tale.
Y/N had met him in a bar, where he had protected her from two drunken men, like a knight in his shining armour. He was charming and mysterious, with his fair hair, his white clothes and his glasses that he never took off.
Everything happened very quickly between them, but she loved him so much, they were really happy.
No doubt she should have been a little wary of "Cory". He was too perfect. Nobody was so perfect.
But it had still been a surprise when the dream turned into a nightmare.
One evening, he had arrived at her house without warning, looking strange. He said he had to go, because his 'creator' was looking for him.
Y/N had begged him to explain to her while he was collecting the few things he had left at her house, and then he had looked at her for a long time, for several minutes, before sighing.
           "Actually... I don't think I'm going to be able to leave you, sweetheart. It's too risky."
           "You mean I'm coming with you ?"
           "No, baby. No, you stay here."
Everything went very quickly after that. Y/N didn't remember all of it. It was quite blurry. There was blood. The teeth. Then the screams, her screams, as he took her eyes.
He was whispering nonsense, and he sounded so sorry, so sad, as he plunged his knife into her flesh.
           "It's not you, it's me. It's in my nature. I wish things were different, I would have liked to keep you. Besides, I will keep a part of you with me now, and forever; You really have beautiful eyes. Delicious."
After that, she should have died. In any case, if she had survived normally, she wouldn't have been able to see.
But Y/N wasn't dead, and when she woke up, she had new eyes. She was panicked and lost for the first few days. A voice in her head told her to stay calm. That she had just been reborn, with a purpose.
And that her killer had really loved her.
Bullshit.
Since no one knew what had happened to her, she tried to resume the course of her life, but it was impossible. Her new eyes were weird. She could see things. She knew things.
Some people she passed didn't look human. They looked like monsters. They looked like her killer when he took out his glasses, and yet no one seemed to see that.
The thing was that they were like him, inside, and with her new eyes Y/N could perceive their true nature.
She knew then what she had to do.
The media never spoke of her, because she was discreet. She killed the monsters as they had killed their previous victims.
Sometimes they realized it was a murderer who had died, and sometimes no one ever found out that she had killed another monster.
But that was not enough. That couldn't be her only goal. And so Y/N began to hunt down her killer.
It was not difficult to understand that he was the one called The Corinthian.
However, it was more difficult to find him, especially since she had understood that he was not human, even if she did not know what he really was.
It was a man who wasn't a man, dressed in black with a talking raven, who answered her questions. He stopped beside her in the street, staring at her for a long time before speaking with a distant voice.
           "You shouldn't be alive. And yet my sister didn't take you."
           "And you're not human."
           "No. Who gave you those eyes ?"
           "I don't know. But I'm looking for who took mine."
           "I have a small idea of who that is." muttered the raven with a frightened air.
           "You are chasing a nightmare. Literally. One of my creations. I seek him too, to destroy him. So you can rest, Y/N Y/L/N, you will soon be avenged and at peace."
           "It's up to me to kill him."
           "You're not listening. The Corinthian is a nightmare. Nothing can kill him, only I can unmake him."
           "Ah, you are the creator he was talking about."
           "... He told you about me ?" asked the thing in black, frowning.
Y/N quickly told him about her murder, all the details she remembered and what the voice had told her.
This seemed to surprise the Nightmare Maker even more.
           "He's not capable of love, I didn't create him that way. And yet... It may be true."
           "Not at all. He killed me, he took my eyes."
           "But you're not dead and you have new eyes. He may have done something to make this happen. After all, you love him."
           "I loved it."
           "You travel the world looking for him. Nobody does that without a bit of love."
           "To kill him."
           "I just told you you couldn't kill him." he said, staring at her with what looked like pity. "But you'll still keep looking for him. Because you probably want revenge, but there's something else. You want to see him. You miss him. You think about him every day. You love him, as he may loves you. That's this love that binds you, and that allows you to move forward."
           "It's wrong !"
           "Then stop chasing him. Let me handle this and go home. I promise you there will never be bad dreams again."
           "... No. I have to find him."
The dream-being shook his head, but said nothing before leaving with his raven, who wished her good luck.
It was by chance that she heard about the Cereals convention. A "collector" caught her killing a monster, and he didn't understand that she only went after those who were like him.
She listened to him with the intention of killing him when he was done, until he told her about this year's guest of honour, The Corinthian.
Since she didn't have a name, Y/N decided not to kill the little monster right away, accompanying him as a guest.
She could purge the Earth of many abominations, but above all she would finally find her worst nightmare.
The atmosphere there was nauseating. A concentrate of darkness.
And in the middle of it all, on an extradite, acclaimed by all, The Corinthian.
He was making a ridiculous speech about the American dream, proud of himself, displaying a big smile, until he saw Y/N at the back of the room.
Something changed then. He seemed to freeze, as if afraid, before slowly advancing towards her, ignoring the surprised looks of the spectators.
Having caught his attention, Y/N left the room, luring him to a quieter place, hiding in a corner with a knife, ready to strike.
He didn't cry out when she thrust the blade into his heart. He didn't move, looking at her with what looked like joy, putting a hand over hers as he regained his smile.
           "Sweetheart. Sweetheart, it's so wonderful to see you again. I've missed you so much."
           "Die !" she cried, stabbing the blade back into his chest.
           "You're so adorable, so beautiful. Those eyes aren't as pretty as the ones you had. Are you mad that I took them ? I've never felt so close to you, but not having you by my side was still hard. You're here now ! Oh, do you want to stab me again ? Go ahead, baby. It's so intimate, don't you think ? I don't have eyes for you, but you can eat something else. My tongue ? My heart ? Choose. You must be so beautiful when you're covered in blood. I mean, I know that you are, I remember, but I meant someone else's blood. My blood.'
           "I TOLD YOU TO DIE !"
           "Yes, that's it, go ahead my love, kill me ! KILL ME !"
The more she stabbed the knife, the more he smiled, he laughed, he encouraged her by repeating tender words, as if they were making love and that everything was perfectly normal.
When it was clear that the dream creature being had told the truth and he wouldn't die, Y/N felt very tired, sobbing as she fell to her knees.
The Corinthian knelt beside her, taking her face so that she looked at him, admiring her handiwork.
           "I knew you were different. I knew you were like me."
           "I'm not like you at all ! I kill monsters like you !"
           "Oh, sweetheart." he purred, licking her tears away, before depositing a parody of a kiss on her lips. "Everyone has nightmares. A killer is still a killer. We could do a wonderful job together."
           "I'm going to kill you."
           "Yes, my love. But not today. We should go, I feel there are people I don't want to see. Come on. We're going home."
Truly too exhausted to resist, her eyes full of tears, Y/N let him carry her to a car, wrapping her arms around him, thinking that maybe the dreammaker was right.
Because if she was really determined to kill him, a part of her was happy to find him, and to be with him. And maybe he felt exactly the same.
Only he had already killed her. Now he just wanted to keep her.
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It is Often that the Unexpected Happens
Chapter 2
Word Count: 1552
Summary: Ash the BeetleWing has died to what would later be called the Othermind. Unfortunately, by means outside his understanding, he has been brought back in 7426 as, far from his time, and far from the extinction of his tribe. He doesn't belong in this time, he misses his friends, and he knows that the friends he left behind aren't safe. With the help of Darner and Poseidra, Ash goes on a quest to return home.
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He woke up with a start, confused and surprised. How was he alive? He was certain he had been done for, he knew he should be dead. Despite all that, he was still alive and breathing, probably.
"Stag?" he asked worriedly, "Click? Orchid? Where is everyone?"
He shook his head, it didn't matter, he had to return to Click and Stag like he promised. He wanted to make sure everyone got away safe. He quickly flew to the camp.
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He stopped where the camp should be, there were no trees, like on the entire flight, but there also wasn't any signs of dragons, or even a scuffle.
He looked around for any dragons. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an odd looking dragon. They had dragonfly-like wings, an extra horn on their head, and a stinger on their tail.
"Hey!" he said, backing up in case they were dangerous, "who are you and why are you here?"
They held up their talons before quickly responding, "I could ask you the same question."
"I'm Ash, I returned after helping save a lot of BeetleWings and LeafWings from the unusually large swarm of bees, I came back to report to Click," Ash said, before getting annoyed at their response, they looked like they were trying not to laugh, "what's so funny?"
"Sorry sorry, it's just, everything seems so convincing about what you're saying," they said, "but everyone knows that the BeetleWings have been extinct for at least three thousand years."
"You're joking right?" Ash asked, "I spoke to two not that long ago."
“I’m not joking, if I was, I wouldn’t be here," they said.
"And you are?"
"Right, right," they said, "I am Darner, of the HiveWings."
"Hive… What?" at this point Ash didn't know what to think, "what the fuck is a HiveWing?"
"Wait, you're serious?" Darner said, "and you're an actual BeetleWing?"
"Last I checked, yes," he said.
"That makes no sense to me but maybe Queen Acacia’lll understand," Darner suggested.
"'Queen'?" Ash echoed, he had never heard the term before.
“How do you not know what a queen is? I mean, they lead the tribes of Pyrrhia and Pantala," Darner said, sounding surprised.
"We didn't have them, our leaders were Click and Orchid, they didn't have special titles," Ash explained, before adding "but it's nice to know that the dragons of Pyrrhia are still alive."
"Alright, I have no idea what's going on," Darner said, "I'm taking you to Queen Acacia, maybe she'll have answers."
"I'm not sure about this," Ash said, "I kind of don't want people to stare at me, and if I'm supposed to be dead, that'll attract attention."
"I'm sure it'll be fine, we've seen plenty of odd dragons," Darner assured, "now come along!"
"Uhh, why?" Ash asked, confused.
"Alright then…"
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"I'll go in first, you wait here for a bit," Darner said, "I'll tell you when to come in."
"It's normal to do this when speaking to another tribe's queen," Darner explained, not helping Ash’s confusion, “now, please stay out here while I talk to her.”
After some time, Darner came out, "alright Ash, you can come in now."
"Alright," he said before walking in. On an odd structure was another HiveWing, this one had many pieces of jewelry and something odd on her head.
"What is this, Darner?" she asked.
"Queen Acacia, this’s Ash, he is the only living BeetleWing," Darner replied.
"How do you know he's actually a BeetleWing and not just some weird SilkWing?" Queen Acacia asked, "Actually, whatever, you've very interesting, is that all?"
"What, Queen Acacia, I-"
Darner was cut off as the door slammed open, and out came what looked to be a less furred IceWing with wings similar to Darners, she had a very serious expression and bags under her eyes, "hello Queen Acacia, I'd like to request something."
"Why didn't you ask before barging in?" Queen Acacia asked, sounding really annoyed.
"I did, but they didn't believe me when I told them that I was Poseidra," the dragon said, "something about how I'm not alive."
"Well clearly you are, what do you want?" Queen Acacia asked, her tone changing from annoyed to exasperated.
"I'd like to officially resign from being a soldier, I almost died on the field, and I would like to avoid doing so in the future," Poseidra said.
"Is this what was so important?" Queen Acacia asked, "you could have waited, I'm doing something else right now."
Poseidra looked over at Ash and Darner, her squinting a bit at Ash before looking back at Queen Acacia, "I don't see why you'd be so distracted."
"Of course you wouldn't," Queen Acacia said, pinching in between her eyes, annoyed, "you're a hybrid who somehow now has fur. Nothing could possibly be weird in your eyes.”
"Part of the reason, sure, but I have other reasons," Poseidra said.
"Oh? Care to add onto the reasons?"
"Nope," Poseidra said, popping the p, "but, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a nice chat with the BeetleWing here."
"Oh I don't mind, two things solved at once," Queen Acacia said, "better for me."
"Whatever, come along," Poseidra said, "now I think introductions are in order, what is your name?"
"I'm Ash."
"Nice to meet you Ash, I'm Poseidra," Poseidra stated, "now come on, I'd like to speak to you."
"Uhh, ok?" he said, cautiously following her.
Once they were a few paces away from where Queen Acacia was, Poseidra spoke, "you don't have to be so tense, I won't do anything."
"Why am I going with you?" Ash asked.
"I don't really trust monarchs that well,” Poseidra said, looking at the throne room doors with an odd look, “I’ve had some unpleasant experiences.”
“‘Unpleasant experiences?’" Ask echoed, confused.
"It's unimportant info. So you're the last BeetleWing alive? Gonna be honest, that sounds… not very fun," Poseidra said, "you should be with other members of your tribe. On top of that I'm sure everything here is new or confusing, we've come a long way since BeetleWings went extinct."
"It is, I'm not used to any of this," Ash said, "I'm used to sleeping in a small camp, I'm used to small structures, hell, I don't fully trust those little fires that are hanging to not burn this place down."
"It's understandable, when things change a lot in what feels like a short amount of time, it can take quite a while to adjust," Poseidra said, she sounded like she was speaking from experience, "but if it helps, I could probably get you used to everything.”
"Eh, I'm good, I don't need your help," Ash said, "honestly, I just want to go back to my tribe. I miss Orchid and Click, I miss Stag. I miss my family."
"And how do you plan to do that? They have been dead for thousands of years, and no one from our time can get you back to then," Poseidra pointed out, "we don't have anyone with that kind of ability or tech."
"I don't know, it's just hard for me," Ash said, "I've never been this alone."
"Hey, how about, instead of dwelling on what we can't do anything about, and instead find something better to do?" Poseidra suggested.
“Such as?? What can we do at this time?" Ash asked, "I don't know what is available."
Poseidra stood quiet for a moment before speaking, “I know! I could introduce you to my friend, Ray. It’s a long flight, but I think it'd be worth it."
“I think I can handle a long flight, I flew from Pyrrhia to here” Ash pointed out.
"Sure you can do that, but what about this continent and an ocean?" Poseidra asked, "and what if those millennia of you not existing destroyed that stamina of yours?"
“You are acting like you don't want me comming," Ash said, "let's just go already, which way?"
“East,” Poseidra said, “we should go as fast and as soon as we can. I want to be there before the sun sets."
“Hold on!” a voice said, both turned around to see Darner running after them, “let me come with you two!”
Poseidra’s eyes narrowed, “why do you want to come with us?”
"Most dragons have never seen a BeetleWing, it'd be nice to learn about what happened during the scorching,” Darner explained, “and Poseidra has been gone for moons, I also want to know what happened to her in that time.”
"What are you talking about?" Poseidra asked, "I almost died, what more is there to say?"
“I don't believe a word of that 'I almost died, bs,' it was so long, something happened, also you have a friend who's name doesn't sound very HiveWing, proving as much," Darner pointed out, "and I'll find out. Even if I have to pressure your friend."
"You won't get anything from pressuring them but alright," Poseidra said.
“Sure- whatever, we should get going,” Darner said, “we don’t want to put off the flight if we want to get there when Poseidra'll prefer."
“Yep, Poseidra,” Ash interjected, “the sooner we fly the sooner we’ll be there.”
"Well then, let's go!" Darner said, taking off in the direction he had seen Ash and Poseidra about to fly towards.
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tearsoftime0086 · 1 year
Text
We'll Always Have Casablanca
Part 3 of 3
Characters: Steve Burnside, Leon Kennedy
Summary: Leon and Steve finally have their talk, and do some soul searching (ft the titular Casablanca).
Word Count: 2445 (of 4185)
Warnings: Alcohol use
~~~
Steve put the glass of water down and took the time to examine his surroundings – it felt weird doing it in a stranger’s house, but it was part of the standard checklist he ran through whenever his college buds got too tipsy at a party.
First off, the whiskey – as he’d feared, it was the same bottle from ’99 - the glob of melted wax on the left half of the bottle confirmed it. God, he still remembered how long he’d gushed about his gratitude in front of Leon back then. Sure, the man had coordinated their rescue operation out of Antarctica and negotiated Steve out of permanent government custody – he deserved every ounce of praise. Steve just wished the praise was more… coherent in retrospect.
A little wax peel rocked back and forth on the coffee table – the bottle must’ve been freshly opened. The contents were about a third empty, though it was impossible to judge how long Leon had been drinking. He turned to the man in question – still breathing regularly, so that was good.
Next, the TV. It’d been looping through the opening menu for a movie called Casablanca – some black-and-white movie, by the looks of it. There was a small stack of worn DVDs on the TV stand. The Casablanca case was spread wide open. With no other way to spend his time, Steve stepped closer to read through the titles. He didn’t recognize most of them – they all seemed to be old films. The crinkling and fading of the DVD covers were almost as convincing as the very dramatic 20th century poster aesthetic on each case.
All things pointed to Leon simply enjoying some drinks and a movie to himself in the daytime.
“Why’d you text me for advice, then?” Steve whispered, giving voice to the one nagging question that wouldn’t disappear. Leon, of course, didn’t answer. He could’ve sworn Leon had called him for some biohazard questioning – that was the only meaningful thing he could provide to the agent, after all.
Steve cracked his knuckles, pacing the dusty apartment living room anxiously. Rockfort had scarred him in ways that he would’ve never fathomed, and this was one annoying side effect.  He’d get antsy whenever stuck indoors with nothing to do, and Leon wasn’t in any state to wake up soon.
The idea was very stupid and invasive in retrospect, but Steve decided to slip into the kitchen and wipe down the dusty countertops. Again, it was the college routine kicking in; he’d generally be the one cleaning up after a night of drinking at the freshman dorm.
Once the counters were sufficiently clean, he noticed that there were a few dishes left in the sink, so Steve moved over to those too. Then he took out the trash. Chore after chore caught his eye, until he’d left the kitchen entirely and was wiping down the dining table behind the couch an hour later. The same layer of light dust covered the table – that along with the lack of furniture made the house look barely lived in.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Steve jolted towards the source of the sound. Leon was now awake, eyeing him from the sofa. How did he not hear him wake up?
Leon coughed deliberately, staring at him with mildly bloodshot but fully focused eyes.
The wet paper towel dropped from Steve’s hand. “I… uh… I’m sorry. I’m really bad with waiting and so I thought I might help out… around the house? Until you… woke up.”
It sounded so stupid, especially coming out of his rambling mouth.
Leon blinked, sheer absurdity suddenly combining with the situation’s context. His expression softened, and he stood up from the couch.
“Right, I-” he sighed, rubbing his temples, “I should be the one apologizing. I’m so sorry for calling you out here.”
“It’s all good!” Steve said, perhaps too quickly, “And if you wanted to talk about Veronica still, I’m free for the rest of the day, so-”
Leon’s brow furrowed. “Veronica?” Steve’s last statement was somehow equally as disorienting as the prior one.
“Was that not what you wanted advice on? T-Veronica? My virus?”
Leon was quiet for a long time, before walking over the dining table. He looked so weary as he pulled up a chair. A somberness clung to his slouched shoulders, with a level of gravitas that not even faded pajama pants could override. “It’s not that. You should sit down, Steve - you deserve an explanation.”
Steve obeyed, glancing back and forth from Leon and the table surface as he took a seat. Despite what Leon had said, it seemed like a proper interrogation now.
“I’ve… been out of the country on government business,” Leon started, choosing his words carefully. “Just got back a few days ago.”
“South America, right?” Steve said, hoping to be useful.
“What, no-” Leon’s grim expression broke for a moment, before settling back into a questioning stare. “Who told you that?”
“Uh…” He should really shut up at this point.
Leon shook his head. “Never mind, that’s not important,” he said, much to Steve’s relief. “It was a long but successful operation, and I got put on sick leave afterwards. Decided to spend the first day home getting drunk, and I made an impulsive decision to text you. So, I apologize, again.”
“Hey, it’s all good. Sometimes you just wanna get drunk.” It’s only partially a lie. Steve had definitely felt the urge – numerous times after Rockfort and Antarctica, in fact. But B.O.W. metabolism be damned, he was never able to reach the point of hazy darkness that could let him forget it all for a night. “And it really wasn’t a problem. I’m just surprised you remembered me.”
Leon laughed softly, throat still scratchy from sleep. “I’m surprised you’d think I’d forget. After all,” he pointed a thumb back towards the coffee table, “it was your whiskey I was drinking this morning. How has it been, by the way? Are you doing alright? With, you know…” Leon fumbled for the right words, but it was enough context.
“I’ve been doing okay,” Steve said, trying hard not to scratch at his left cheek, “Veronica’s pretty quiet – I think the viral therapy stuff helped. Almost done with college, so that’s a plus. Still infected, but… you know. Living a normal life.”
“That’s good. A normal life… I’m glad.” There’s an emotional twinge in Leon’s voice. Was it because he was still inebriated?
“You know…” Leon said, voice suddenly low. “I think about our meeting in ‘99 a lot. What you said back then - ‘In the context of everything, it was probably just an email you read. A few calls you made’, right?”
God, Leon was reciting his dumb speech from memory. The urge to squirm was only blocked by a growing alarm at Leon’s bitter tone.
“I’m… I’m glad I helped you properly back then. It’s the only success story I have.”
“Whoa whoa, you’re underselling yourself,” Steve said. He expected immediate rapport, but Leon just looked at him with melancholy eyes. “I mean, you’re the best of the U.S. military. You just came off an international biohazard operation. Hell, I haven’t even mentioned Claire, or how much Sherry adores you-”
Leon flinched at the mention of Claire and Sherry, hands on the table balling up into fists. “I could’ve done so much more for them. I still could, and I don’t. And not just them, but now… I always fumble the landing…”
“Or they could be dead.”
The speed at which Leon’s head flicked toward him was concerning, but Steve didn’t care. The sentence had the desired effect of stopping him from his spiraling words.
“Claire and Sherry could’ve died in Raccoon. But they didn’t, because of you. And I dunno about this international op... but you stopped something huge from ruining more people’s lives. Numerous times. Those sound like success stories to me.”
“Steve, you don’t understand-“
“You’re right; I don’t. We as people can’t understand the best and worst outcomes of any scenario. Everything ends up in the middle somewhere. So we just have to cling to the ones we love, and live with that. That’s what keeps me going everyday. Sure, I’m basically a zombie- it could be better. It could be worse. But I’m here. And you made that happen. And you’ll continue to do so, because I know you’re the type of person who’ll never be satisfied with that middle. So please, please don’t undersell yourself.”
Steve found himself out of breath at the end of everything. Déjà vu and embarrassment twisted in his stomach like twin snakes. But Leon just chuckled.
“You’ve gotten better at your speeches.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to mull on this,” Steve said, rubbing his foot into the ground. “I guess I really don’t know what you’ve gone through. But I hope - no, I saw enough to believe what I say, back when we met.”
“‘Never satisfied with that middle’, huh?” Leon murmured. He stood up and returned with the glass of water in his hand. “I’ll remember that. Thanks, Steve.”
Steve shrugged awkwardly. It felt weird to hear that from Leon – once an image of persistence and heroism, now vulnerable and drawn violently back to earth. But if five minutes of embarrassment was the price he had to pay for Leon to appreciate his own work, he’d take it.
“So what now? Do you need me to go, or –” Steve said.
“Would you laugh if I asked you to stay a little longer?” Leon said, taking a long drink of water. “It’s been nice to catch up. Though with me hung over, I don’t know what else we’d do.”
“No – I’m down,” Steve replied, suddenly coming up with a great idea. “How about we watch that grandpa movie on your TV, if you fell asleep while watching?” It seemed like a nice way to pass the time, even if Steve himself wasn’t super enthused about the thought of watching a drab black-and-white film.
“That grandpa movie is Casablanca, and it’s a timeless classic,” Leon gritted, with a surprising amount of hostility.
“Uh… okay? So do you want to watch it or not?”
Leon snorted, before standing up once again. This time, he headed towards the kitchen. “Sure. Let me just make some ramen for us so I can get over this hangover headache.”
“Sure.” Steve found himself with the uncontrollable urge to find out why Leon got so riled up. “What’s the grandpa movie about, anyway?” he said innocently.
Leon glared daggers at him midway to the kitchen. “If you call Casablanca a grandpa movie one more time, I will kick you out.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to stay!”
“You’ve never heard of Casablanca before?”
“No?”
“Have you ever watched a Humphrey Bogart film?” “Who?”
Leon went into a long half-drunk tirade about the significance of Casablanca while making ramen. Steve didn’t pick up most of it – something about the Warner movie lot and World War II. More importantly, it made Leon seem just like a regular, 27-year-old cinema buff, extoling a film’s virtues to a fellow friend. It suited him quite well.
By the time Leon returned with a steaming pot, two bowls, and a glass of water for Steve, his mood had become significantly more sheepish. “I’m probably the worst type of person to watch this movie with. You won’t get the full experience.”
“Well, best and worst right? This’ll land in the middle,” Steve said, having moved to the sofa and making room on the coffee table. Leon rolled his eyes and laughed.
Leon Kennedy was bad to watch Casablanca with. He’d clearly watched the movie numerous times. He matched the timing of every “Here’s to you kid” uttered by Rick Blaine, along with several other quotes. It was okay though; Steve just dug into his ramen and watched alongside him. His love for the film was infectious.
Leon hummed to himself, pouring another glass of whiskey before he realized what he was doing. “Aren’t you gonna stop me?” he asked.
Steve shrugged. “I mean, I’m a college student – it’d be sacrilegious to stop you. Plus, it seems fits the atmosphere.”
Leon tilted the bottle of whiskey over to Steve’s near-empty water glass. “You want some too then?”
“Sure – just a little though; still have to drive home.”
The two of them took a long sip alongside Rick, now drunk and despondent after encountering his lost love Ilsa. Leon lisped along to the mournful protagonist, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine”. Steve glanced at him, watching his eyes faintly mist over. It didn’t seem right to ask who he was thinking of.
At some point, Steve forgot he was watching a film – completely transported to the world of Casablanca. From Rick and Ilsa’s icy daytime meeting, to their eventual romantic reconnection, he was pulled in, hook line and sinker. Expertly inserted between this romance were moments of human strength and resilience – he found himself resonating with the people of "Rick's Café Américain" as they sung “La Marseillaise”. And the more he watched, the more he found connections between Leon and Rick; it was clear the film affected him on a deeply personal level.
As the end of the film rolled, Steve didn’t notice Leon looking at him expectantly. He was too entranced with the final scene – the last moments between Rick and Ilsa, then the shot of the two men walking away in the rain… the very real and painful intertwining of love and duty.
“So, what do you think?” Leon asked, finally snapping Steve out of his reverie.
“You were right – I shouldn’t have called it a grandpa film,” Steve murmured, eyes still glued to the TV. “It was very good. Beautiful.”
“I’m glad you finally got to see it.”
“Do you have any other recommendations like this? I saw you had a lot of DVDs.”
Leon laughed. “Of course I do - all I do on my time off is watch movies.”
Steve’s hit with another great idea. “Hey. While you’re in town, we should watch some of those. Or at least meet up more. Doesn’t always have to be movies, but maybe other normal, civilian things. You know, get to know each other.”
Government agent Leon Kennedy would’ve politely refused the offer. The Leon he’d seen today, trapped in his darkest throes, wouldn’t even bother replying. But neither of those was quite the whole picture.
And so, Leon smiled and quipped, “Steve, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
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zephyrmonkey · 2 years
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I posted 325 times in 2022
That's 325 more posts than 2021!
84 posts created (26%)
241 posts reblogged (74%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@zephyrmonkey
@foundationsretail
@jennniferwalters
@beautifulbows924
I tagged 81 of my posts in 2022
#marvel - 31 posts
#mcu - 29 posts
#agents of shield - 27 posts
#leo fitz - 21 posts
#aos - 18 posts
#the bad batch - 16 posts
#iain de caestecker - 15 posts
#jemma simmons - 14 posts
#bad batch - 14 posts
#marveledit - 14 posts
Longest Tag: 56 characters
#prosciutto buffalo mozzarella with a hint of pesto aioli
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Mother's Days with Marvel
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128 notes - Posted May 8, 2022
#4
My Comfort, Even On the Darkest Days
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Request: Anonymous - Can you write Reader with depression and Steven tried to comfort them by cuddle pls.
Summary: Steven takes care of the reader while she’s feeling down.
Pairing: Steven Grant x reader
Warning: Nothing really, Reader has depression but it’s only hinted at, Caring Steven
Word Count: 614
A/N: Sorry it’s so short, but I hope you enjoy it!
(y/f/m) = your favorite movie
Darkness fills the apartment as (y/n) lays under the covers. The sound of keys entering a lock fills the place. The door is unlocked, and footsteps are heard. The door is shut and relocked.
“No, no, no. He can’t see me like this!” (y/n) thinks as she hears what is happening but makes no attempt to move.
“Love?” Steven’s voice comes through the apartment as he tries to find his girlfriend. He finally finds her in her bedroom after he deduced that it was her making the covers look like a weird lump on the bed. “Love, I’ve been calling you all day. Are you okay?” He turns on the lamp that’s on her bedside table and sits at the edge of her bed.
She doesn’t answer but moves a little, proving to him that she is still alive. “I’m going to lift the covers from your face. Is that okay?”
(y/n) doesn’t move, so Steven gently moves the blanket to reveal (y/n) with her face absent of makeup and full of tear stains. She closes her eyes at the sudden flood of light and turns to her other side so that Steven can’t see her face. “Love, are you alright?”
“How did you get in?” She ignores his question and tries to advert his attention elsewhere.
“The key was under your mat, and I hadn’t heard from you all day, so I was worried.” He stops to brush some hair off her face so that he can see part of it. “Please answer the question Love. Are you alright?”
“No,” Her voice cracks as she whispers the word.
“What’s wrong?” Steven pushes.
“I don’t know….I just woke up like this.” (y/n) lazily shrugging her shoulders, still facing away from her boyfriend.
“Can you turn around for me Sweetheart?” He puts his hand on her shoulder.
(y/n) shakes her head, “No, I look horrible.”
Steven looks at her with a slight smile on his face. “No matter what you look like, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”
She weakly smiles and slowly turns around but doesn’t look at Steven. He puts his hand on her face and rubs his thumb over her cheek. “What do you need me to do to make you feel better?”
(y/n) shrugs, not knowing what to say.
“Okay, just sit there, and I’ll handle everything.” He tucks her in and quickly leaves to get everything ready.
Five, ten minutes later, (y/n) can’t tell, Steven softly walks into the room. “Okay Sweetheart. Everything is ready for you. Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
(y/n) wordlessly and sluggishly gets up and lets Steven take most of her weight as he leads her to the living room.
The lights are off, and the television is lighting the space with (y/f/m) queued up. Setting her down on the sofa, Steven puts a fluffy blanket on (y/n). Once he’s sure she’s comfortable, he sits next to her and pulls her to him so that she is leaning on him. He turns the movie on and grabs another blanket to put on him.
(y/n) wraps her arms around Steven’s stomach and puts her head on his chest. The scent of cinnamon and old books fill her nose. Steven runs his hand over her back, starting to soothe her, and she visibly melts into his touch.
Kissing her forehead, he whispers to his girlfriend, “Whenever you are ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.”
She faintly nods and takes a bite from her food. “Thank you Steven.”
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191 notes - Posted April 28, 2022
#3
Bad Changes, Good Changes Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
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Summary: After the reader gets hurt, she thinks her relationship is over, but she is in for a wonderful surprise.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! reader
Warnings: Mention of injuries, blood, self-doubt, fear of breaking up, loveable fluff, Bucky being an amazing boyfriend
Word Count: 2068 words
A/N: Spent waaaay too much time editing this! 😂 Hope you enjoy it!
(y/m/n)=your middle name
(y/l/n)=your last name
“(y/n)-come-in! Do—hear—come—!”
Everything was foggy as (Y/N) was slowly coming to consciousness. Not remembering what happened, (Y/N) looked around and noticed that her legs were pinned by debris, and she was sitting in the wreckage.
“Me—in! (y/n)! Do—copy?”
(Y/N) put her hand to her ear. “Hello? Does anyone copy?”
“Doll?” Bucky! (y/n) relaxed, hearing her boyfriend.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m trapped under some rubble.”
“Where—you?”
“I don’t know! And I can’t feel my legs! I think I hit my head because I feel dizzy.”
“Doll, Hang—I’m—Doll—…!”
(y/n) didn’t hear anything else due to her passing out from blood loss.
The first thing (y/n) heard before opening her eyes was the dreaded beeping sound of the heart monitor. The first thing she felt was metal and flesh hands covering her right hand. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a mop of brown hair resting on her bed.
She smiled at the fact her boyfriend hadn’t left her side. Before she could do anything, Bruce came into the room.
“Hey (y/n), I’m glad you’re awake.”
“Wha-what happened?” (y/n)’s voice was hoarse because of the medicine pumping through her system.
“What do you remember?”
“Um… Preparing for the mission, walking on the quinjet, and touching down. It’s blank until I woke up caught under the rubble, and I couldn’t feel my legs. Then I passed out. Next thing I knew, I’m here.”
“Well, you hit your head, so you might have some amnesia.”
“Will I ever remember what happened?”
“Because of how hard you hit your head, I doubt it. But you can always read the reports.” Bruce shrugged.
(y/n) moved a little to get more comfortable, but not too much to wake up Bucky. It was then that she felt, or really, the lack of feeling of something.
“Bruce.” (y/n) said with her voice wavering. “Why can’t I feel my legs?”
“(y/n),” Bruce solemnly looked at the woman in the bed. “You broke both your legs. You will be out of commission for at least a year.”
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269 notes - Posted March 28, 2022
#2
Shoulder to Cry On?
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Prompt: “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Summary: Steven goes to the reader when he thinks he’s losing his mind.
Pairings: Steven Grant x reader; Marc Specter x reader
Warnings: Angst (I don’t want to give any more warnings because it’ll give away the story. There’s no blood, gore, or violence. All the warnings will be in the tags at the bottom.) No Spoilers! Occurs before the show.
Word Count: 1110 words
A/N: 1. This is for the writing challenge by @beautifulbows924!
2. This is my first time writing angst and I’m really excited about how it turned out!  I also wrote this in 2 hours and I’m really proud of myself for that!
Hope you enjoy!
Three quick knocks brought (y/n) from her computer to the door. Confused, she looks at the door and then at the clock on her laptop that reads 1:19 am. Before she could move, more knocks came through her apartment.
“(y/n). (y/n)! It’s me, Steven.” More knocks. “Are you there?”
(y/n) quickly sets her computer to the side as she hurries to the door. Opening it, she sees a very nervous, wide-eyed museum gift shop worker.
“Wha-what? Steven? What are you doing here?” She asks while letting her friend in.
He quickly walks in and stands in the middle of the room, looking around nervously and wringing his hands.
“Steven.” (y/n) calling his name brought his gaze to her. “Are you okay?”
“I-I-I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Steven, what’s wrong?” (y/n) cautiously starts walking toward the nervous brit.
“I-I think I’m going crazy.” He confesses to her.
She looks at him. Her expression shows half confusion and half concern. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m losing time. Having weird dreams that seem real. I-I don’t know what to do.” He starts to wave his hands wildly as he tries to explain what’s been happening to him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” She put her hands up and slowly put them on his shoulders. “Take a breath, and let’s sit down.”
He nods as she guides him to the couch she was previously sitting on. “Yeah, yeah. Alright.”
They sit down on the couch as Steven takes a breath. “When-uh-when was the last time you saw me?” He asked her after a few minutes.
She looks at him with a confused expression, but she answers his question. “It was…” She pauses to count the days. “… It was about eight da-no that can’t be right.” She pauses again to recount. “Yeah-uh-it was about eight days ago.”
“For me, it was three days ago.” Before she can say anything, he continues. “The dreams I’ve been having, they are so real. But…I don’t know what’s real anymore, and you are the only thing that I know for certain that is real….So, that I why, I came to you.”
(y/n) looked at her friend with sad eyes. “Steven…I don’t know what to say.”
“Can I stay here for the night?” He looks at her with sad eyes that she can’t say no to.
“Yes. Yes Steven. Of course, anything you need.”
“Could you-uh…” He looks down at his hands before looking at (y/n). “Could you watch over me and tell me in the morning if anything happens?” His eyes fill with nerves. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but-“
“Steven.” (y/n) cuts him off. “Of course I’ll watch over you. Besides, I have this report due in two days, so I’m gonna be up all night anyway.”
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362 notes - Posted April 25, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
The Idiot Girlfriend Bucky Barnes x reader
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Summary: The reader learns a valuable lesson after making an idiot mistake.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: Reader talks about having a stomach ache, nausea, and diarrhea.
Word Count: 723 words
A/N: If anyone’s wondering who the idiot was that gave me the idea to write this. The answer is…me. I’m the idiot, this actually happened to me. 🤦
A groan from the couch brought Bucky out of his thoughts. Changing his course from the kitchen for a late-night snack to the living room which had the TV as the only light in the room, he saw his girlfriend, (y/n).
“Doll? What are you doing up this late? I thought you have a mission in the morning?”
Another groan escaped her lips as she tiredly sat up.
“Canceled it. I don’t feel good.”
Bucky immediately went into panic mode. “What’s wrong? When did you start feeling like this? What hurts? On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is your pain?”
(y/n) weakly lifted her hand to stop him from continuing his questioning. “I’m just an idiot that’s all.”
Bucky looked at her confused and chuckled lowly. “How does being an idiot relate to you getting sick?”
Before she answered, (y/n) placed her head on Bucky’s shoulder and took a deep breath.
“You know how after training with Nat earlier I said that I was exhausted and if I was going on that mission tomorrow, I’m going to need energy?”
“Yes?” Bucky was still confused, but he went along with it.
“Well...” (y/n) started her explanation again. “I went to drink some Emergin-C and I may have made a mistake.”
Bucky turned his head as much as he could with his girlfriend on his shoulder. Looking at his face contorted in confusion, (y/n) would’ve laughed if she wasn’t feeling as bad as she was. Instead, she closed her eyes and prepared for the next part of her story.
“When I read the packaging, it said that one pack should be dumped into 4-6oz of water. So, I took a water bottle, that has about 16oz of water in it, and did some quick math.”
At this point, Bucky started to realize where the story was going.
“I thought that if one pack equals 4-6oz of water then, three pack equals 12-18oz of water. So, I put three packets of Emergin-C in my water bottle and drank it.”
(y/n) let out a weak laugh and lifted her head to look Bucky in the eye, who was looking at her with horror.
“I started to feel ill after drinking about 2/3 of the bottle. And after rereading the packet it turns out that ages 14 and above should only have one packet per day.
So, after doing a quick Google search, my stomach ache, nausea, and diarrhea is a side effect of having about three times the normal dosage of Vitamin C, Zinc, and other antioxidants in my system.”
(y/n) gave her boyfriend a weak smile to try and convince him that everything was alright. Needless to say, she was failing, miserably.
After a few moments of staring at her with his mouth agape, Bucky gently wrapped his arm around (y/n) and placed her head on his chest, which caused her to hear him lightly chuckling.
“Who knew that being an idiot could cause you to get sick?”
(y/n) rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything, since she knew this was coming and he was doing it out of love, she let Bucky joke about for a few more minutes as she relished in the comforting feeling of her boyfriend holding her.
Once Bucky was done, he asked her a question she was prepared for. “Do you know how long you’ll is feeling like this?”
She shrugged. “Not long, I hope. The internet said that it has to flush out of my system.”
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575 notes - Posted June 26, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Text
And Eat It, Too: Chapter Eight: A Meaty Interruption
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In which Jon makes a choice, Jared makes a trade, Daisy asks for help, and Elias shows up for a… "rescue" of some kind...
>>> NOW ON AO3!
Oliver Banks is great.
Martin Blackwood is sad. (I feel that deserves its own warning because I feel badly for doing it.)
Slaughter-typical spookiness.
And warnings for Elias, because... yeah.
(Masterpost including playlist)
*
CHAPTER EIGHT
He is aware of pain. It is distant, but still terrible.
Aware of his dreams—of walking other people’s, staring while they suffer, funneling it all to his patron, though it is not by choice.
Aware that dreams of the Circus and the Spider try to intrude.
And Michael chases them away.
He knows this, but he cannot interact with it. He can barely see it.
It’s like Michael is avoiding him.
That feels so strange, and so bad.
Jon misses the Distortion.
Yet it is there; he knows it is there, and Jon can pull away from them—
And then Michael stops coming, and they get him.
Jon feels an undefined grief.
He returns again and again to the dreams of other people, sees Georgie’s pity. Sees statements he took himself, or read, or listened to.
Re-enters his own dreams, nightmares he now cannot recall how to escape.
And the pain is bad, and he floats, and he misses Michael very much.
A new voice comes to him.
A man’s, gently pushing through—unfamiliar, and yet he knows who it is, though they have never met.
It tells a story. A new story. As it speaks, the dreams Jon walks go quiet, fade, like someone turned the volume down.
The voice has a self-conscious laugh, free of anger, or hate, or cruelty. A gentle voice.
One that would be nice to hear, at the end.
Jon listens to the voice.
“The thing is, Jon, right now you have a choice. You’re not quite human enough to die, but still too human to survive. You’re balanced on an edge where the End can’t touch you, but you can’t escape him. I made a choice. We all made choices. Now you have to, as well.”
The voice fades away.
Wait, thinks Jon, because the nightmare-road begins to come back into focus. It starts right in the middle of someone’s experience, as if the film just kept rolling through the interruption.
A choice.
He’d already made one, hadn’t he?
Many choices, Elias would say, but that wasn’t this.
Even what happened with Mustermann was not this.
Maybe it’s because he’s facing a decision, or maybe the Eye is just being kind, but Jon can suddenly turn away from the nightmare-road and consider the path before him.
If I do this, I truly leave my humanity behind, he thinks.
Do what?
Choose to wake.
He can’t recall why that’s important.
What is humanity? comes back to him, not in words, not even a challenge, just a gentle query because it wants the questions to flow through him.
Jon has no answer.
He finds he no longer thinks monster is the opposite of person.
He misses Michael.
There’s some other reason on the pro side of waking up, but he doesn’t remember what it is. It must not be important.
He looks at his hands, his dream-hands, sees every finger-whorl and scar, every vein and nerve and tendon. Sees everything they’ve touched and done, all throughout his life.
And he could still know more.
It’s time to make his choice.
#
“No, I think you can leave, is what you can do,” says Martin, sounding fearful and fierce, stammering and steel at the same time.
“Sorry,” says Oliver Banks (avatar of the End, the fear of death itself—that’s who woke me, Jon thinks). “Good luck, okay? If he wakes up, just… tell him I said hi.”
Martin makes some kind of sound that neither affirms nor denies, and then comes the gentle sound of the door closing.
“Thanks,” says Georgie.
“Yeah, well. That’s like the fifth weird guy to come by since he’s been home, you know? I just get tired of it, sometimes.”
Fifth? “Who came by?” Jon asks, his voice like a rusty hinge.
“Jon?” says Georgie.
“Shit!” says Martin.
“Who… I…” He’s floating into awareness faster than he likes, as if attached to a balloon and rocking up through deep water. “Ugh…”
His throat hurts. His eyes feel glued.
“Get the nurse. Get the nurse, get the nurse, get the nurse!” Martin shouts, and then he is close, and warm, and touching Jon’s arm, and helping him to sit up, manipulating the bed.
Georgie is gone, door closed.
Jon manages to get his eyes open. Everything is very bright. “Where’s Michael?”
Martin’s expression jumps through a few different emotions before settling on reasonable. “I wouldn’t know, Jon.”
“It’s been here?” says Jon quietly.
“It?” says Martin.
“That’s how it refers to itself, and god forbid I disrespect a monster’s pronouns,” Jon says, and laughs unsteadily.
Martin stares at him.
Jon blinks. “Was that… a weird thing to say?” I could see all his veins if I wanted to, he thinks, but doesn’t, because he’s trying to be polite.
But he could. It’s right there. He could reach for it.
Martin swallows. “Jon, you were shot.”
Oh, Jon thinks, and suddenly realizes why this choice mattered.
Georgie returns with a whole herd of medical professionals, and communication takes a back seat for a while.
They don’t actually tell Jon what happened, these people. But that’s okay. If he listens, listens well, he knows.
It’s in the front of all their minds, after all.
A week. No heartbeat. No indication of life at all—except for wild, constant brain activity, a frightening amount, which no one could explain.
His heart was horrifically damaged.
Now, it isn’t. And that happened very fast.
He’s unnerving everyone just by being alive, but he can’t help feeling so glad that he is.
The Unknowing, he thinks, amazed that while in his coma, he forgot about it, didn’t feel it was important. I can still stop the Unknowing.
“Jon, are… you still you?” says Georgie.
I don’t know, he thinks, but cannot say that to her, cannot watch her face fall more than it already is. “I think so? I don’t even know how we’d establish that, but as far as I know, I am.”
She sighs. “Good. I’m glad.” She doesn’t sound glad.
He could know, could know, so easily, but he won’t do that to her, can’t, can already see that whatever she’s seeing as she looks at him is not a good thing. “Georgie?”
“Good luck, Jon,” she says softly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She’s leaving? “Wait,” he says, eyes wide.
She pats Martin on the shoulder and just leaves.
Jon stares after her, mouth open. “Georgie,” he whispers. “What did I do?”
Martin’s lips tighten. He doesn’t answer.
Jon doesn’t have to reach to know this one: people don’t sit in a heartbeat-free coma for a week and then wake up chatty.
Monsters do, though.
Jon goes quiet.
The doctors confer with Martin. They’re taking blood, asking Jon to watch a moving pen, asking him to count their fingers. Taking dozens of vitals and murmuring to each other.
It hurts.
This pain isn’t from a bullet.
Martin finally sits beside him and puts his hand over Jon’s, waiting while the nurses do their thing, while they ask more questions (what’s your name, how old are you, do you know where you are, who’s the prime minister).
It seems forever until they’re done.
Martin stays.
He doesn’t look like he wants to, though.
“I…” Jon swallows. “It was one of the… the anatomy students. Part of the Stranger. He…”
Martin’s eyes widen.
“How did I get back to London?” Jon has a guess, but he wants to seem less… eldritch, just for a moment.
“Michael brought you to the Institute. Just… right into the Archives, and put you on Tim’s desk.”
“It what?”
Martin sighs. “They had a lot of questions. About the only good thing was the blood loss showed you couldn’t possibly have been shot anywhere near us.”
He’s not looking, but he sees the panic, sees Martin calling 999 and shouting, sees Tim yelling at him to stop being stupid and wake the fuck up and don’t you die you son of a bitch.
“So the bear helped,” Martin says suddenly, and laughs. “But it didn't, um. Survive. So. You can get me another one, right?”
“The bear? What—”
“It deflected the bullet just enough,” says Martin. “I mean, it still… it went through your heart. But it would have hit you right… just… it would have killed you. The police said a cardiologist couldn’t have aimed it better. Except… the bear knocked it to the side just a little bit.” He swallows. “It’s why you still had a heart to, um. To heal.”
The bear had not been in his shirt pocket.
Jon breathes quickly, looks down, tries to see if there are webs, but he finds none.
It had to be the Web. There are few other explanations.
But why?
When?
How?
“Um,” says Martin, trying to fill the silence. “I don’t think Georgie will let you stay with her right now.”
“No.” He sighs. “I have a… temporary place. But they need to let me out, first.”
That’s going to take a while. Being shot makes it a criminal matter.
Jon hopes his I don’t recall game is strong today.
#
Jon doesn’t know the actual address of the penthouse.
Well. At first, he doesn’t know.
It gives him a bit of a headache to reach out and know, and he understands why—he hasn’t fed the Eye in a week.
He still gets the address, and insists on getting a cab to go there alone.
He refuses Martin’s offer of his small apartment.
It's tempting. Martin is safe to be around—but things are chasing Jon, and Martin will be decidedly unsafe if Jon says yes.
He doesn’t add, I need to see Michael.
He doesn’t have to. Martin is not stupid.
“I’ll probably come into work tomorrow,” says Jon. “I learned some things. It’s possible to disrupt the Unknowing… but only once it’s started.”
Martin pales. “Are you sure? You should rest. Jon, you were shot.”
“And now I’m fine,” he says, repeating the doctors’ wide-eyed diagnosis.
“Jon…”
“It can’t wait,” he says softly. “But I will rest after the Unknowing is stopped. I promise. Cross my… heart.”
Martin looks at him oddly.
That’s how Jon knows he’s being too chipper again.
He can’t help it. A weird giddiness has replaced his usual cynicism.
“I guess I’ll see you then,” says Martin, visibly unsure how to end this conversation.
Jon certainly doesn’t know. Knowing does not, apparently, get one out of awkward situations. “Thank you,” he says. “For being there. I’m glad you were, when I woke up. And… I’ll replace the bear.”
Martin smiles weakly. “It was a joke, Jon.”
“Not to me.”
Martin takes a cab home, too.
Jon is amazed that his bag made it back to the UK.
His new phone is smashed (possibly on purpose, given what stole him). His wallet was clearly rifled; nothing seems to be missing—he still has Gerry’s page—but of course, that doesn’t mean he has a key.
He has to burn Gerry’s page.
He doesn’t want to.
But Gerry asked it of him. Gerry—who, in half an hour’s time, felt like a friend.
Jon is going to burn his page. He promised.
For now, though, he needs to go home.
He stretches as he leaves the cab, heading for the building’s entry. He should at least be stiff, after being in a coma for a week, after being shot. He’s not. His physical heart doesn’t hurt at all. Even the brand-new scar—tiny and puckered—looks years old, and doesn’t feel like anything.
He’s weak, though.
The Eye gives him a whiff of stories, of people asleep in their beds all around him, tempting him to go and…
Do what? Break into somebody’s flat?
That’s not how this works, he thinks, though he knows, somehow, that the Eye isn’t hearing that.
Or maybe isn’t listening.
He wonders if it’s a convenient eldritch ignorance he’s dealing with.
The penthouse looks dark, at least from the street.
Jon touches the scar on his left arm. Runs his fingertips across it, shudders at the strange feeling of scar-tissue and unnatural healing. Michael, he thinks.
Nothing happens.
It should have.
He knows.
Jon frowns. Is it refusing to come?
Was this intervention the last?
Did they actually… break up?
Maybe. They had not parted on good terms, and dumping him in the archives certainly felt like a final, You handle him.
It’s for the best, isn’t it? He asked it to go away, and it did.
Because he was hurting it.
Jon laughs, and it is an uneasy sound. He can’t even keep a monster near him without it getting hurt.
He wipes some tears, smiles poorly. It’s funny, if he looks at it the right way. Maybe he can look at this thought hard enough so it falls to wet, meaty pieces, too.
Well. There will be no penthouse tonight. He has no way to access it, and doesn’t fancy being arrested for breaking in.
A hotel should be possible—though, without a phone, he’s not sure how he’s going to find one.
Jon suddenly realizes he’s walking without meaning to do so at all.
It makes no sense to walk. It’s late at night, took far too long convincing the doctors to let him go. He’s prone to being kidnapped, assaulted, worse. The street is empty, and—
He stops. Looks down. Squints through the headache.
And for just a moment, fine, glimmering threads appear in the light of the streetlamps.
Jon gasps.
Melancholy gives way to a heady combination of fear and rage.
The Web wants him to walk, does it? Wants him to go wandering down this street, unprotected, without even a working phone? Well, she can go to hell!
It takes effort, but Jon is able to turn around and walk back toward the penthouse, feeling a tug on his will—but it’s like wet fingers, slipping off him.
Ha! he thinks. Ha ha! In the moment, this ability to choose feels worth whatever he traded away.
Jon looks around as if that would bring immediate comeuppance.
Noth-
There’s a sound in the street behind him.
He spins.
Breeze. Distant cars; someone’s laughter, some party with the window cracked open to the cool night.
The sound is not repeated, but that… that’s worse.
Whatever it is, the Web failed to send him to it—so she is sending it to him.
Jon takes off at a run.
He strains as he goes, trying to know where a cab might be, but he has no practice channeling the Beholding while running for his life, and it is not working at all.
Behind him. He hears it, hears…
Steps so heavy and broad, steps from a thing that surely weighs more than a human should, steps that are quicker than his, nimble, and accompanied by a suspicious crack as though it is occasionally breaking pavement.
Jon puts on a burst of speed.
It is not enough.
A hand—human in shape, but far too large, far too strong—gets him right around the neck and his face, gripping his skull like a walnut as it yanks him back and hoists him into the air.
Jon has not met Jared Hopworth before, but he knows without any extra powers that this must be him.
Jared is… large.
Jared would make Breekon and Hope together look like teenagers.
He has a raw, weird beauty—all his muscles too sharp, his jaw too clean, his entire body somehow fake in the way he’s pushed it to whatever he thinks of as perfection.
But his eyes.
They are dark. Cruel. There is less humanity in them than even Michael has ever shown.
Jon dangles from Jared’s hand, peeking out over sausage fingers, gripping his I-beam wrist.
“Shouldn’a run,” says Jared, his voice greasy, low and soggy. “That pissed me off.���
Jon tries to say something. Of course, it’s muffled.
“‘S why I don’t do favors for people,” says Jared, who seems to be considering whether to do something to Jon or fulfill whatever favor he means. “She said you’d come to me, but you didn’t.”
Jon makes a questioning sound, but his stomach is already sinking.
Jared starts to walk, holding Jon out like a book he’s reading.
Jon tries to struggle, but only hurts his neck. Goes still.
“Came to the hospital, you know? Your boyfriend there, he’s funny.” Jared laughs, and it is a wet sound, a meat sound, a sound like he has a wrong esophagus and too many lungs. “Told me off right to my face, though he was pissin’ his pants.”
Michael? thinks Jon for one second before realizing. Martin.
Martin stood up to Jared. For him.
His stomach does an unpleasant flip.
“Don’t matter. I’m done, after this,” says Jared calmly, and plops Jon on top of a dumpster at eye-height like shelving a boring toy.
Jon’s neck is creaking alarmingly, but he ignores it, tries to see, discovers right away that Jared… is not put together like Mustermann was.
The Stranger cobbles pieces together poorly because they’re not supposed to belong, they’re supposed to unnerve, they’re supposed to leave the viewer uneasy and afraid.
Jared Hopworth, the Boneturner, the Flesh’s selfish son, is made of meat, and it is sewn together at an atomic level with powers beyond comprehension.
Jon can’t look him apart.
He’d be too weak to, he thinks, even if fully fed. I am a baby monster, after all, he thinks hysterically. “J… Jared Hopworth?”
“‘S what is says on me license,” says Jared, still studying him as though preparing to pick a cut of steak for tomorrow. “And you’re the Big Deal.”
Jon recoils, scoffs. “Big… deal? I am not a big anything.”
“Yeah, you’re not,” Jared chuckles, looking him up and down.
“Wh… wha… what are you—”
Jared narrows his eyes, and Jon closes his mouth with a click. “Better not,” says Jared unnecessarily. “This’s already been a pain in the ass. Not that you got much of one.” And he laughs at his own joke, a deep and awful sound, a squelching sound.
Jon’s stomach churns. He swallows. “Why did you chase me down?” he whispers, fighting the urge to compel.
“This.” And Jared holds out a square envelope, about the size of a children’s book.
No, thinks Jon. Oh, no, oh, no.
He recoils.
Jared laughs. “You’re scared of this? Really?” He flaps it.
Jon is shaking. “It, ah. I. Don’t suppose I could convince you to… take that far away from me?”
Jared considers him. “A trade? Yeah, maybe. What’re you offering?”
Jon hadn’t expected a yes. “I… I don’t know.” He laughs sharply, unsteadily. “I don’t think anything of mine would fit inside of you very well.”
He was trying to be practical.
Jared leers.
It takes Jon a moment. “Oh—no, no, that is not what I—”
“Annabelle said you were funny,” says Jared.
Cold washes through him. “Annabelle Cane?”
“Tell you what,” says Jared. “I’ll take something you won’t even miss,” and there is a cruel glee in his eyes now, a light that wasn’t there before at all, and it is harsh and uncompromising and eager.
“Wh-what?” Jon whispers.
“Tip of your little finger.”
Now Jon is deeply confused. “What?”
“Won’t even miss it, will you, Big Deal? ‘Cept when you look down at it. ‘Cept when you go to reach for something, and don’t grip it quite right. ‘Cept when you touch anybody, and it just won’t feel the same. Then you’ll remember me, for the rest of your life.”
It is brilliant. Horrifying. A weird, disgusting legacy, written in scars.
But it’s just a finger-tip. If Jared is telling the truth. “Just… this?” He holds up his left hand, pinches the pinky in his right, lets the barest bit show through.
“Yeah. That’ll be enough.”
“And you’ll take the book away?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not… afraid of angering Annabelle Cane?” Because Jon is. She’s Web. He’s never met her and does not want to. She’s more frightening than anything he can think of right now.
“No.” Jared frowns. “Weird idea, though, innit? Maybe I should just take a rib instead.”
“No, no, that… that’s fine,” blurts Jon, because ribs protect your organs and that seems so much worse. “It sounds… properly horrifying. To me.”
Jared waits. Tilts his head, predatory. Whatever modifications he made to his forehead hide his eyes in this position, placing them in shadow, and he is monstrous.
A fingertip, or Mister Spider. It’s not really a choice. Trembling, Jon cautiously holds out his left hand because he cannot handle the idea of anything else happening to his right.
At least he got to choose which hand.
He doesn’t even ask if it will hurt.
It does.
He knew a lot of nerve endings go through the fingers (and the Eye provides him with a wild view of each one being severed), but this hurts so much more than it should.
Why didn’t I pick the hand with no feeling? he gasps at himself, but it’s too late for that kind of logic.
Jared holds his hand almost tenderly, lightly pinching the tip away as if Jon is made of clay. There’s not even any blood. Jon’s finger seals right over, does what Jared wants, no matter how unnatural it is.
Jon clutches his hand to his chest, pain pulsing; he can’t see through his tears. Half of the distal phalange is gone, from the fingernail up.
Was it as bad as Jude Perry’s burn? He can’t tell. It’s different.
He made it hurt more than it had to, Jon suddenly realizes, and is too busy gasping to ask why.
Jared considers the tiny, brown shape between his fingers, and then it is gone.
Absorbed into him, maybe. Jon has no idea.
“Huh,” says Jared. “That was weird. You got a weird body.”
“I, uh… I wouldn’t know,” Jon gasps, heart and finger still pounding. “It’s the only… one I’ve ever had, so.”
“I could fix that for you,” says Jared, and opens his mouth, Jon’s fingertip rolls from his throat to the tip of his tongue, connects there, wriggles at him.
Jon gags.
Jared’s still laughing as he leaves, envelope in his meaty hand. The moment he’s out of sight, there is a bubbling, fleshy sound, like rendered fat squeezing through a storm drain. Then silence.
Jon can’t get down from the dumpster yet. It hurts too much.
He’s so mean, he thinks, which fits with what he’d read. Jared, like so many before, had been a bully long before being chosen by his god.
Jon frowns. Few avatars were not bullies of some kind before being chosen. It makes sense, in a way—but then what about people like Jon?
Yes, he loves to see, he’s always asking questions, but he never did it to hurt people, never relished fear, never enjoyed causing pain or distress. How in the world was he a good choice for this?
He can’t stay here. Annabelle Cane is involved. He checks himself for webs, is only mildly relieved to find none, and slides down into the alleyway.
Well, these clothes are nasty, streaked from the dumpster, redolent. At least they aren’t his.
“Ugh,” he says. Will they even let him into a hotel? “Thanks a lot,” he mutters, only on second thought hoping Hopworth did not hear.
The headache really feels like nothing so much as some kind of blood sugar crash.
He stumbles on his way out of the alley.
Catches a glimpse of someone watching him.
Annabelle? he thinks, panicked—but it is not.
Daisy. She stands at the end of the street, dead still, like a dog that’s caught a scent. Though her face is mostly shadowed, there is a gleam, like gold, near her eyes.
“Daisy?” he says.
She runs at him.
“Are you serious?” he shouts to the sky as he turns to run, even though he knows it’s stupid (she is Hunt, this is guaranteed to not calm her down).
Stupid! he tells himself, and stops suddenly, hoping to talk his way out.
She slams into him and they both go down.
How he caught her wrist before she plunged her knife into his gut is a mystery for the ages, and he grips it with both hands as she growls like an animal and leans. She’s making snarling noises, is not the same as when she dragged him into the woods to kill him, not the same as when she shot Mike Crew.
There is no reason in her eyes.
“Daisy!” He shouts.
She can’t hear him. Her face is wild, thrilled, utterly focused on taking his life. She’s nearly fully possessed. He can see the Hunt in her, absolutely gleeful, and see the woman pressed underneath—and he suddenly knows she does not want this.
He doesn’t think even she realizes. She’s been marked by the Hunt nearly as long as he’s been marked by the Spider.
“Daisy!” She’s overpowering him, pressing so hard he can’t get out from under. There is no time to be gentle with this: “Where is Basira?”
Her head snaps back as if he popped her in the nose.
There’s a confusing moment of flailing, of blood; then she’s off him, crouching and growling, a wolf in a woman’s body. Her eyes gleam yellow in the streetlight.
Jons heart and head are both pounding as he sits up. He’s scraped all to hell. “Where is she?”
“Help Basira,” she says, rumbling the words, and with a broken whine, she turns and lopes off down the street.
At a distance, trusting he’ll know where she is, Jon follows.
The headache grows worse. He keeps squinting at things, and they do come into focus after a moment, ticker tape trivia included—but those crucial few moments are a heavy concern.
He has no time to feed the Eye right now.
Daisy hunts her way right out of nicer places, transitioning into those areas considered unwise by travel agencies and police. There are plenty of pubs open this late, lots of raucous sound and drunken laughter.
Jon feels like he’s grabbing crumbs from empty plates as he passes, catching whiffs of infidelity and murder attempts and nearly died in that fire.
Can’t stop. He’ll lose her.
Daisy lopes between old buildings and through sloped alleys so narrow even Jon has to turn slightly sideways, and then she ducks into a doorway that has definitely been forced open.
Down a set of decidedly modern stairs.
Then down a set of decidedly not modern stairs.
Dark, so dark, bulbs too far apart to do more than hint at each other’s existence.
At the bottom, far below, is a cold, cement-lined cellar, something (the Eye says) left over from Roman times and rebuilt, over and over, and used as a hiding place for refugees and a cold place to store wines and a secret fight-club with no rules and—
Now, it contains two hospital cots on wheels, and on each of them is a woman.
Melanie’s on one. Basira is on the other.
Both are straining, flailing, trying to pull free of the straps (surely too many) holding them down, and Jon opens his mouth to say What the hell is happening here when his vision blasts wide.
The Slaughter, filling this room, filling these friends, looping between them like some bloodthirsty binding, filling their mouths and their eyes and making their hands like teeth and their teeth like knives.
He stares.
“She got her,” rumbles Daisy, straining to speak clearly. “Didn’t catch it happening, when we pulled Melanie down. Though that’d be it. Figured we’d call you, figure it out from there. But then Basira went… bad.”
“She said someone died,” Jon whispers.
“Yeah. Fix it.”
Jon blinks at her. Daisy is swaying, and he suddenly realizes she looks far worse off than he does. She’s breathing hard, smeared with grease and dirt, only not attacking him now because she caught him and the chase is over.
How the hell is he supposed to fix it?
Nobody gets free of the Slaughter, do they?
Of course, he’s still going to try.
His finger throbs. For some reason, its new shape embarasses him, and he keeps his hand folded tight.
Seeing the power of the Slaughter here doesn’t seem to be doing anything for them. He studies them both, going as close as he dares—for all he knows, awareness of him (living, breathing, filled with blood) will give them both enough strength to break free.
Odd, though. That swirling, tangled mayhem isn’t connected to the same spots.
On Basira, it’s her shoulder; looks like a bite. Melanie got her good before Daisy took her down.
But on Melanie, it’s her calf, which seems like a very strange place to be connected to the embodiment of murder.
Jon inches closer.
There is a deep violet throbbing emanating from her leg, barely visible if seen straight-on, but most definitely there.
Jon needs to see more.
He’s there, sliding up her pant leg, staring at the spot.
“She’s been shot,” he says softly.
“What?” says Daisy, leaning in and… sniffing?
Yes, she’s sniffing. All right, then.
“Right there,” says Jon. “Look at that. It’s horrible.”
Daisy’s more human dislike of him comes through (he should be glad at that, right?). “Sims. It’s a leg. There’s nothing there.”
“Yes, there is.” He has to get it out, has to get it out of her now, doesn’t even know if it would help, but he has to do it now. “I need something sharp. A scalpel. Tools. I need…”
Daisy produces a knife.
Without thinking, he touches it.
Sees how she’s used it. How many people she’s killed, certain she was hunting monsters.
Jon shudders and pulls away.
But not for long.
Grits his teeth. Grabs it. Does not hesitate, because if he does, he won’t go through with this at all.
He’s very dizzy as he slices her leg, but he did it just right, and there is a strange little clink as something invisible falls from it. Then it clinks again and rolls away on the floor—and though it is invisible, it leaves a little trail of blood.
Melanie shrieks.
She’s thrashing so hard that the whole cot is moving, jerking itself catty corner to Basira’s.
Daisy is staring at the tiny blood trail, looking back and forth. “Is that all?”
“I don’t know what else I can do,” says Jon helplessly. “I…” His eyes widen. “It’s weakening. Melanie’s leg, and in Baira’s shoulder. It’s fading." He inhales. “I think they’re going to be okay.” He jumps back as Melanie tries to lunge at him so hard that the entire cot jumps inches. She snaps her teeth at him.
“Both? Basira?” snaps Daisy as if Jon had not been clear enough.
He looks at her. “She hasn’t killed anyone, has she?”
“No. Can you do the same to her?”
He swallows. “What, amateur surgery? There’s nothing in Basira to cut out. It’s going to just… have to take its time.”
“Then you’re no further use. Get out. We won’t be here when you come back,” says Daisy.
Jon blinks at her, vaguely offended. “Surely I can help, at least help you get them up the—”
“Out!” she snarls in his face.
He’s backing for the stairs. “You have my number! My phone is broken! I’ll get another!”
“Get oooout!” And so help him, as he flees up the stairs, her bellow turns into an honest-to-Fears howl.
#
He’s panting at the entrance to the alley, leaning on his knees, head down.
“Anybody else want to have a go at me tonight?” he says to no one, staring at the blood spots on his shoes.
Did that really just happen? It was surreal.
Did it work?
He can’t tell, anymore, now that he can’t see them.
At least they’re alive.
Though someone else isn’t.
He’s glad he didn’t ask who they—
The Eye shows him anyway.
Who knew he still had it in him to run, after all?
He has to put space between them. He can’t think of Melanie doing… that… to a person. Can’t think of Basira’s utter logic decimated by the need to rend and kill.
So, he jogs. Head spinning. Panting like a lion on the veldt (which he is most definitely not). Crying, unaware, until a car pulls up beside him, pacing him, and the window silently rolls down.
“Goodness, Jon,” says Elias, leaning on his elbow and peering at him with the mildest curiosity. “What have you been doing to yourself?”
Jon stops.
Stares at him.
Imagines, vividly, vomiting in his face.
Sighs.
Elias is waiting.
Jon slumps. He says nothing as he walks around and gets in the passenger seat.
He hopes he gets dumpster juice all over the fine leather.
(part nine)
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CATSM: RE-INK'D (Chapter 3: Part 1)
🏴‍☠️
The Voice Of Henry Stein
Only two weeks into this company, and already it's gotten interesting.
Joey is a man of ideas, and only ideas.
When I agreed to start this whole thing with him, I thought there'd be a little more give and take.
Instead I give, and he takes. I haven't even seen Linda for days now.
Still, someone has to make this happen. When in doubt, just keep drawing, Henry.
On the plus side, I got a new character I think people are going to love.
----------------------------------------
Above all else, Henry hoped this was a dream.
He was hoping that Joey ended up forgetting he existed, and he never got that stupid letter in the mail.
He was hoping that he didn't really see a corpse, a monster, several more smaller monsters, ANOTHER dead body, and some drug addict cultist.
And he was especially hoping that he didn't just meet one of the people who was supposed to be one of the corpses from earlier.
Yes, when he woke up, he would be back home, in his bed, with his wife and daughter waiting for him......
...
Henry opened his eyes, and saw the exact opposite of that.
"....Well, shit. This is real. Okay. Cool. Mhm. Yep. Nnnnnnot distressing at all."
He sat up and rubbed his forehead, taking in his new surroundings once more. He was sitting on a cot of some sort- Why does Joey even need a cot?- in a small room. A hammock hung in one part of the room, and when he looked to his left, he was greeted by one of the posters he saw before. 'Sailor Sillies'. Now that one I remember.
He got up and made him way out of the room, going to the end of the hallway and looking to his right.
There, at a table, sat Barley. He was leaned over and staring off into the distance, barely noticing Henry as he walked into the area.
Henry grabbed the ukulele next to him, and sat down in the chair across from the sailor, making him nearly spring out of his seat upon noticing him.
"AH! Y-You're- You're awake! I-"
"What, you thought I died?"
"N-NO! Of course not..." He looked away for a minute. "...Well, maybe I did, a little bit...."
"Well, I did pass out in front of you, so I guess I can't blame you."
Henry leaned back and strummed a few sour notes. "This thing's tiny."
"Well, I'm not a very big...uh....'person'." Barley nodded his head to the instrument. "....Can I have it back?"
Henry handed it back to him, who carefully set it down next to him. "...I've got a million questions ever since I've walked through that studio door, and I think you can answer a few of them."
Barley looked up at Henry with a perplexed expression and pointed at himself. "M-Me??"
"You're the talking cartoon character over here."
The cartoon sighed. "I hate answering questions....Fine. What do you want?"
"First of all, let's talk about the elephant in the room. How in the hell are you here in the first place?"
Barley froze up. "....Well...I.....I don't...."
"You certainly know, with the way you're acting."
"...How do I explain this without s-sounding insane....u-uh..." His eyes darted around the room. "...All I know is that we came from, well, where we usually live. It doesn't...have all these colors.."
Henry tilted his head. "You mean like..a cartoon world?"
Barley gave a shaky sigh. "I g-guess you could say that. I don't know...how we even came here.....all I know is that these big, goopy hands came and.." He indicated a grabbing motion. "One b-by one, over t-time. First Charley, then a few weeks later, me..."
"Okay, so now I know that some weird magic shit happened, and you guys got taken into our world. Okay. But....HOW? Did Joey do some, like.....ritual?"
The sailor flinched at the word 'Joey', and was silent for a while.
"Barley? Barley, answer me. Shit, did I break you? I'm sorry, I-"
".....H-Have you ever s-seen a dead b-body?"
Henry's eyes widened. "....Ever since I got here, I've seen, like, two...don't...don't tell me..."
"...Daniel Lewek. That was his name, but he told me t-to call him...Buddy. H-He used to...talk to me...but....he's gone now. I...I don't..."
"Joey used..real people..to make you guys. Okay. Cool. What else is new." Henry sighed, rubbing his forehead.
Barley was shaking in his seat at this point. "...I..I s-saw a bit of it....o-once. S-Some lady...she...died to make....E-Edgar...J-Joey put her in th-the Machine...."
"He....what? Wait.....Edgar? He's alive too? Where is he?"
Barley buried his face in his gloved hands, despondent.
Henry got up from his seat. "Barley? I asked too much, didn't I? I..."
"....I-I just w-want them b-back......"
"What..?"
He curled up in that seat. "..Th-They're...d-different now...th-they won't t-talk to m-me....."
Henry huffed and bent down to his level. "Hey, bud, listen. How about we do each other a favor? You help me get out of here, and I'll help you get your friends back." He held out a hand for him to shake. "Okay? Promise."
The cartoon peeked through his hands, and limply shook Henry's, still covering his face with one hand. "...Okay.."
"Alright, little buddy. It's a deal. Hey, you wanna...play some cards or something? Pass the time?"
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bacotri · 4 months
Text
It's Unbecoming
Realization lives in empty hallways of a conversation's end. The silence after confronting an unfaithful lover. Those moments following a fireworks' blast. Realization rests within the cycle of fullness, when everything returns to zero.
For me, it's my first breath after the long coma I've been in. Time moves absolutely different for people in a coma. A second is a month in real life, maybe. But it feels like a fanfare when I left the dream.
Waking up to the cold, sterile, and bright room was my moment. Even more so was the fact that nobody is there to greet me. In movies, or dramas, often we'd see the families of comatose patients crying and sobbing while waiting for them to wake up. But really, realistically, who has the time to do that?
Everyone has a life of their own. I don't blame them. Also, unlike those stories you might have heard, I can actually distinguish coma dream from reality. So I don't need help from families or friends to grasp anything, reality is as solid as a brick.
Well, except for the thing sitting next to me.
I can't describe it in a way that won't make it more confusing. Let's say, a girl, about my age. Imagine that, but blurry. Like in third dimension but also wrong. It can speak too.
"The button, behind your head, it calls for a nurse." It didn't sound hostile.
I did as it... she? I did as she asked. Sorry, it's way better for me to use that pronoun. It humanizes her, and I'd like her to be human.
I pressed the button to call the nurse. The process after was very procedural. Health inspection, checking for muscle atrophies, soreness. The nurses and that one doctor was gentle, and I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of girls touching my body.
Don't judge, but I've spent years in a practically dead state. I can't feel anything in the real world. Every bit of sensation sent to my brain is overwhelming at that point.
Then again, the one thing I can never erase from all the thoughts invading me at that point was that... I like being touched. Not even in an explicit way, but I like the sensation of physical touch on my skin. People often would take those for granted, holding hands, hugging, all of that.
But think about it like this. In a dream, you trip and fall down. In an instant you'd be jerked back awake. You never had the sensation of the impact on your skin. That is, the membrane separating dreaming and waking is merely the sensation of touch.
It is very thin indeed. After the coma I find myself savoring more and more of the concept of touch. I give myself time and space to just simply touch an object and feel it. It's weird.
I went home about a week after I woke up. The thing invited herself into my house as well. I don't mind her, her presence is calming. I miss some days when I would be alone though.
"I'd like a salmon today." She requests things like that often. I'm surprised too, because I'd find myself wanting those things she asked.
One day, I remember it was a rainy night. We had a conversation. I've had conversations with her before, alone of course, other people can't see her. That's something I find myself relieved with as well, that I have a secret that is her.
"I can't see the stars tonight," she said. "I want to see the stars."
"You can't, it's raining, heavy one too. Seems like it won't let up for a while," I replied.
It was an in between period. Sometimes after summer ends, it will rain heavily. I remember that from my childhood.
"On nights like these, when you can't see the stars, what do you replace them with?" Her tone back then was innocent. But even a blind man can see that she asked a loaded question.
I wanted to answer that I don't replace the stars. It's fated that we can't see them that night, and what is fated can't be changed. But deep down I want them to change, she and her tiny hands have reached deep into the permeable surfaces of my heart.
It was a simile, a play on words. What I meant, and what I'm sure she meant was, given another circumstance would I allow my family and friends to enter my life again? If not, what did I replace them with?
"It's you, isn't it?" I asked her.
Silence.
My family didn't leave me. This is reality, not some short story. Of course sometimes they would ask around, contacted me, but I always kept my distance.
That's worse, I agree. Keeping them just out of reach. Yes, it's like putting myself in a cage. I've used similar metaphors, and those are dangerous you know? Metaphors are used only to build love. If carelessly used they will build a wrong type of love.
At least, my parents brought me lots of metaphors. Most of them by the name of my best friend, or my neighbor, my childhood friend, even my own girlfriend at one point. It's love, they claimed. I feel it, the love, suffocating and scary.
When I told her... of course I told her. I told her many things. She saw my worst, days where I would loop myself like an ouroboros of depravity. Coming back and forth between laptop and phone, staring at pictures and videos, and imagining I was there instead of whichever male actor was.
"I don't mind," she said. "These are human things, these make you human. But please tone it down."
I don't know if she's being ironic, or that it's her twisted way of seeing what a human is. But her words made me stop. It made me realize that she was seeing my vulnerability and it's the one thing that became my blockade.
Oh, yeah, back to the parents thing. I told her that too. About how they would proclaim love in such a way. She told me that it wasn't love.
"Love doesn't hurt," she murmured. "If love hurts, it's not love, it's a skin of one, but inside it's different. A whole new kind of thing."
"But it didn't hurt," I scoffed. "It just felt weird. They seem to enjoy other people more than their own kid."
"That." She then held my hands. "That is hurt. Don't be ashamed of that."
In a way she does, it's strange, like she's reading my mind and dares speak it. Sometimes I would think of a concept, mull over it, and gave up because I just can't find the right word to convey it. Then she would have this grin, and in the sweetest voice someone could muster, she'd say the exact sentence or phrase which would describe it.
Some days she'd be silent, just watching me. I hated those days at first, but she has a way to make me feel at ease, even with those piercing unseen eyes. Those are usually paired with rain, I think she hated rain.
I wonder the same thing too, why I kept coming back to her on all of our sessions. She seems to be something I kept on my mind, even when she's not here anymore. I just... maybe I am feeling lonely.
Describing myself in third person is strange but I can try. He is a man in his late 20s, wearing thick glasses, likes to go out and eat, had a coma once. His strength... let's see, empathic? His weakness revolves around that too, maybe seeing too much of people's faults and overanalyzing them.
I get that this might help, but I feel like day by day my memory of her is beginning to fade away. Maybe, back to it again, it is fate. I am fated to lose even her, but I don't want to.
This is something I'm incredibly passionate about, mostly because I want to see her again. Do you think she's waiting for me? I think she is, and she's dying to speak to me again.
The last day I saw her was before I had that crash and ended up here again, last year. It was strange because the events play out exactly like when I awoke from my coma years ago. Sterile room, buzzing light, only difference was you, I guess.
I am glad, yes. I'm glad you are there. It's not as lonely as the coma.
"Be careful," she lamented. It was such a weird tone. Like she'll never see me again.
No, not lamenting, maybe more hoping? It's certainly much more brighter than I might remember. I'm biased after all, because after the crash I never really see her again.
Well, it'll be easy to describe her in third person. She is... wearing a white shirt, long black hair, even if fuzzy I could still see her wearing glasses as well. She's not slender, not tall, just average in height, weight... no comment, maybe average too? Her build is not something I truly look at.
Come to think of it, she does.
Wait, can you try putting your hair back again?
Oh...
Oh my God.
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weird-is-life · 2 years
Text
When night falls, I am your escape #9
Sumarry: After avoiding her home town for a long time because of the boy who broke her heart. Y/N goes home to spend the longest time there in 15 years. The problem is that he is home, too. Daniel wants to reconnect with her, but she wants nothing more than to just avoid him.
Warnings: language
Chapters: 9/12
Words: 2.2k Masterlist
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A few days later, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I didn't even check, who was calling me, I just picked up. I was ready to curse the hell out of some of my friends from London because I thought they were the ones, that forgot about the time zone and called me at that ridiculous hour.
"Hello?" I said very sleepily.
"Morning Y/N, it's Mike"
"Dude, are you seriously calling me at 7 fucking am?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" puzzled Mike.
"What's wrong with that? Some people are still sleeping at this ungodly hour, you know" I yawned.
"Sorry?" he said jokingly.
"Uhh whatever, I'm awake now. So what do you need?" I questioned.
"Right, so I wanted to ask if you would like to come on a hike with us" he quickly said.
"Wait what?" my only a few minutes awaken brain wasn't processing, what he was asking. "On a hike? With you? Who is us?" I quizzed.
"Yes on a hike. Me and a few other blokes, they are chill, you'll like them" I was 100% sure, that Daniel was one of the 'chill blokes', so I didn't even ask.
"Umm, I don't know if I feel up for it" I wasn't too lean on the idea. I mean, the feelings after a conversation with Daniel were still very raw, even if it was like a week ago.
"C'mon, it'll be fun. It's not very long and plus the view is really worth it" he tried to convince me. But I didn't even know why he was asking me in the first place. We haven't hung out in ages, it was weird. It probably had something to do with me and Daniel being relatively okay, now.
"I don't know" I was hesitating, on what to answer.
"Please, do you have anything better to do?" to be honest, no, I didn't have anything better to do, but the thought of hanging out with Daniel still made me a bit anxious.
"When do you want to go?"
"Yes yes, tomorrow early in the morning" he happily answered.
"Don't celebrate just yet, I didn't say yes. I'm just asking for more info" I still wasn't convinced about going with them.
"Oh come on Y/N, just say yes. It will be great, you'll see. Come with us, please, please, please " he pleaded.
It took a lot of convincing, but I eventually said yes. I didn't want to go, but Mike made it his mission to get Daniel and me back to being friends. So he spends a good few minutes convincing me.
We were to go as he said, early in the morning, from Daniel's house. We were going to carpool from there.
Also, I had no hiking clothes or shoes, so I had to go shopping. So my whole afternoon consisted of shopping and baking cookies for the hike.
---
The morning was tough. I mean, when was getting up at 5.30 a.m. easy, never. I still complained a lot, but in the end, I got ready, packed my backpack, which was completely full, and set out to get to Daniel's house.
I think I've been to his house so many times in the last few weeks, that I knew the way like the back of my palm.
If you think about it, it was like the universe was playing a joke on me. I mean, I came here with the intention of not being seen by anyone, especially Daniel, but now I was on my way to go on a hike with him.
Funny. Right? I thought so too.
This distracted my mind and before I knew it, I was getting my backpack out of my car and greeting everybody.
" What's up Y/N, you slept okay?" Mike greeted me.
"Hey, yeah, what about you," I asked, while I looked around for the other guys, but only Michael seemed to be out there.
"Yup, if you are wondering, where is everybody, they'll be out in a minute" he must have noticed my confused face.
"Alright, so which car are we taking?" I asked.
" The truck, I mean it's the biggest, we can fit all the things in there" he pointed at the car I remembered very well. Daniel drove drunk me in that car.
"Ahh that's great," I said with fake excitement. I mean, it was kind of embarrassing, to be honest.
"I'm gonna see, what's takin-" he didn't finish, because they came out of the house. It was only Daniel with some other guy, who I didn't recognize.
"Finally guys, what was taking you so fucking long? Anyways, Blake meets Y/N and Y/N meets Blake" Mike introduced the two of us.
"Nice to meet you," we both said at the same time and then chuckled.
"So is it gonna be just us four?" I asked.
"Yeah, there were supposed to be 5 of us, but one of us got sick, so yeah just 4," Mike said. Daniel was unusually quiet, so I looked at him, only to find him already looking at me.
But my focus snapped back to Michael who was ushering us to the car. He quickly seated himself behind the steering wheel and Blake followed his suit and sat down in the second front seat. That left me and Daniel in the backseat.
"Any music preferences?" Blake turned to look at me.
"Anything great," I said with a cheeky smile. I was very curious about what he would put on. To my surprise it wasn't bad at all, I enjoyed it quite a lot.
After he set the music, I and Blake talked. I learned a few things about him, like, that he works for Daniel, the same as Michael.
But Daniel was still pretty quiet, munching on some weird food. But that just as quickly changed.
"Do you want some? " he nudged my arm. I looked at what he was holding in his hands. I didn't want to just coldly turn him away, so I nodded.
"What is it?" I pointed at the unknown bag. I didn't know what he was offering me, because the front of it was turned his way.
"Try and see" he pushed the bag closer to me. I cautiously took the weird-looking food out of the bag and tried it. It looked disgusting and it tasted even worse. It was like I ate salty grass.
"Ugh, what the fuck is that" I slightly coughed.
"Dried seaweed," he said between laughs
"Yuck, you eat that?" I looked at him in disbelief.
"It isn't that bad" he defended himself.
"It really is" came a voice from the front, it was Blake.
"Right? Thank you" I agreed with him.
" It's only getting worse," I said and immediately reached for my water.
"Okay okay I get, you guys don't like it," he said defeated. You chuckled at that and then the conversation quieted down.
The whole car was almost quiet after that, except for the music playing and a few small talks.
I avoided Daniel's gaze the whole time, it just felt a little weird to be sitting almost right next to him. Yeah, it definitely felt weird.
But I tried to not feel like that, even spoke to him like 2 times.
Me being cool with him was still a work in progress. But the hike itself was much more chilled.
"So how long is it supposed to take?" I asked them.
" Around 3,5 hours" Michael replied.
"3,5 hours? That's quite a lot" I mentally prepared myself for the exhausting journey.
" Don't worry, it's not bad and not even that long. Mike just goes, like he is on his daily walks, so it takes us a little longer" Daniel approached you.
"He does walk really slowly" I laughed with him as Mike walked clueless next to Blake.
"He does, doesn't he? " he smiled at me once more time before he asked.
"Are you enjoying your time in Australia?"
"Umm, yeah. I missed it a lot, London is great, but home is home, you know " I said.
"That's true. I totally get that" of course he did. He was never home, always traveling.
"You live in London too, right?" I asked to make a casual conversation. I wanted to give him a chance to be friends again.
"Partly, when I'm not there, I'm in Monaco or wherever we are racing" the constant traveling sounded exhausting by only talking about it.
"It must be tough, flying so much," I said.
"Yeah, it is. But I'm living the dream, so I can't complain" he smiled.
"What's it like?" I had to ask him. It bugged me sometimes not knowing anything about his life, I mean, I was part of that dream once.
"It's great, I get to travel the world, and see some amazing places. I get to do what I love every day and it opened so many opportunities for me, so yeah I love it" he said enthusiastically. I could see that he really loves what he does.
"That's great" I replied and I didn't know what else to say to him.
"How about you? Do you like being a lawyer?"
"Yeah, sometimes it's a lot, but I get to help people, so yeah I love it, too" I didn't have much more to say.
"It's good to know you, ya know," he said with a smirk.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"I mean, that if I ever get in trouble, I know a pretty good lawyer to help me out" he laughed.
"How do you know I'd help you? " I raised my eyebrows teasingly.
"Wouldn't you?" it was his turn to raise his eyebrows in a cheeky way, now.
"I don't know, I would have to think about it" we were bantering like the old times, "but, hopefully, I won't ever have to do that " I chuckled.
"Hope not," he said and I thought that he was going to stay quiet after that but he added, " but you never know, I can be a bad boy, you know. "
"Okay bad boy, we should pick up our pace, we are falling behind the guys" I said with a laugh.
"We probably should, how the fuck did they get so far with Mike's snail walk" with that we went to join the guys and stayed with them the rest of the way up.
After exhausting 2 hours of walking, we finally got to the place. And let me tell you, it looked way better than I'd expected. The view was really beautiful.
"Let's take a photo together," Blake said to us all, while I was admiring the picture in front of me.
We got another hiker to take the photo. I stood awkwardly next to the guys until Daniel softly pulled me by my sleeve and put his hand around my shoulders. I relaxed and showed a real smile for the photos, which turned out great.
We didn't get to enjoy the view for very long, because we saw some rainy-looking clouds coming our way.
"Uh guys, we should probably go like really fast, those clouds don't look nice," I said with a bit of concern.
"Yup, we definitely should" we didn't waste any time and made our way down.
We were almost at the car, literally like one kilometer away from it, when it started pouring rain.
"Shit, run" I squealed and took off running with the guys at my heels.
The running didn't help one bit, by the time we got to the car, we were soaked.
"I feel like I have a lake in my shoe" I complained.
"Don't mind your shoe, what about my car, we can swim in it after?" Daniel said with a painful expression and I couldn't help but break into a fit of laughter. Soon after I was joined by all the guys.
When we finally calmed down, we all ushered Mike to quickly get us home.
"Hopefully we won't get sick," I said.
"You know what this reminded me of?" Daniel looked at me.
"Not really" I didn't know what he meant.
"That one time I threw you in the sea" he grinned.
"Ah yes, the excellent idea, that you had" I rolled my eyes.
"I remember that. You got sick, didn't you guys" Mike chipped in.
"I got sick and he didn't" I corrected him.
"I still don't understand how you didn't get sick" it annoyed me up to this day.
"It's the Ricciardo genes" he joked.
It was like that the whole ride back. We were all joking and laughing together. It felt nice, it felt right to be with them again. But when we finally got to Daniel's house, i said my goodbyes.
"I can let you borrow some of my clothes to change into. You don't need to drive home completely soaked to the bone " Daniel said.
"It's alright" I didn't want to overstep the begging of our friendship.
"Are you sure?" he asked concerned about me getting sick again.
"Yeah, I think I can survive 10 more minutes. But thank you, really" I appreciated his offer.
"Thank you for today guys. I had so much fun. Thank you. See you. It was lovely to meet you Blake " I gave them one last smile and left.
.....
Taglist: @wonderlandofsu @eniram-du @theworldofemmy @citylights31 @readerselegance @queenanababy @mgajdaaa @tall-tanned-tattoo
Thank you so much for reading. This took a little longer, but we got there. Also huuge thanks to my beautiful beta-reader, you are a real treasure🧡🧡. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️ Chapter#10
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