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illicitlimerence-writes · 3 years ago

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my favorite place | d. ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x journalist!reader word count: 1.8k words. request: yes/no by an anon: "hi, can you do prompt 12 with daniel where reader is a journalism writer and she was so tired that she came home to the living room full of snacks, mcdonalds and disney+" i decided to use another prompt for this, i hope u don't mind! it's still the same plot, though prompt: low on money/homemade date from this prompt list. warnings: language. a/n: you get this one a bit early bc i'm a dumbass and posted it instead of scheduling it. idk if you've noticed from my previous fics but lately i've been loving the nickname 'lovie' and i intend to keep on using it lmao. PLEASE DON'T SEND REQUESTS FROM THE VALENTINE'S PROMPT LIST. i'll tag all the fics as illicitvalentine's so it's easier to keep track of them.

my masterlist / valentine's day masterlist

(plsss i'm so whipped for this man)

"(y/n), paul is out sick, can you cover for him?" your supervisor asks you.

"uhh, what do you need?" you stop typing on your computer, lifting your head to look at him.

"can you finish his article? the one about the politician's scandal?"

"politician? liam, i write about movies, this is way out of my league," you explain, opening the doc your coworker was working on. "this is going to take me hours to finish."

"sorry, kid, i don't have anyone else. tell you what, you focus on this one and i'll let someone else handle your assignments,”

“no! no, i don’t want someone else to finish mine, i’ll get everything done today,” you turn your back to him, spinning in your chair so you are facing your computer.

“that’s why you’re the best, thanks,” he says, leaving you alone to stress over the amount of work you had to do.

first thing, though, is texting your boyfriend to cancel your plans.

‘have to work late today. someone got sick and liam’s making me cover for him. i’m sorry, raincheck?’

since it was valentine's day, you and daniel had decided to stay home and cook dinner together to celebrate. but since you didn't know what time you'd be home, it was better to move it for another day.

you place your phone on the desk, sighing and rubbing the sides of your temples with your fingers. you take a deep breath, saving all your documents and opened tabs. you went to paul’s profile and opened his latest assignment, reading through his notes and the intro of his article, something about a politician denying human rights and people starting a riot in one of his rallies.

you feel sick to your stomach, this was exactly why you didn’t like writing this sort of topic, it was incredibly difficult to remain neutral when all you wanted to do was point out everything they did wrong.

you prefer to share with the world your love of films, of new opportunities and dreams that came true. of course, there was controversy as well, but you were allowed to give your opinion on those. not here, though.

your phone buzzes, and you look down, unlocking it and reading the text daniel wrote.

‘that sucks, darling:( don’t worry, let me know when you’re done and on your way home, x’

‘i will. love you.’

‘love you, so so much more, baby. don’t stress and overwork yourself too much, i need you.’

‘stop, i’m crying. ily.’

you don’t realize you’re smiling until you see your reflection on the black screen of your phone once you lock it. even just texting with dan helps you to clear your mind for a bit before diving back into a world you’re not too excited to know.

you type and type, getting lost in the sick and gruesome reality of the world you live in. you try your hardest to hurry up and finish it, but once you let yourself take a break and eat something, it’s already 4pm and everyone’s sending in their articles and research for approval. you sigh, munch on your food as you read over everything you had so far. it was pretty much done, you just needed to edit it and send it over to your supervisor. after that, you could finally finish your own projects.

it was a hard shift, from human rights to reviewing a film. but you were extremely happy once you finally had the thumbs up that the article was finished and you could go back to your own little bubble of movies and stories.

“hey, (y/n), some of us are heading to the bar down the street, you coming?” a sports journalist, brenda, asks you, smiling.

“thank you, but i’m not finished yet,” you hadn’t even realized that it was 6pm already, everyone was heading home now.

“what do you mean? you’ve been working nonstop all day, the sound of your keyboard is all everyone heard the whole day,” you smile, you loved the typewriter-style keyboard that daniel had gifted you when you started working for this magazine.

“i had to cover for paul,” you explain, “it was a hard piece for me, so it took most of my day. liam offered to hand my assignments to someone else but,” you shake your head.

“no one knows movies quite like you do,” she nods, agreeing with you. “well, good luck. i’ll see you tomorrow, happy valentine’s,” she smiles, waving her hand.

“happy valentine’s,” you whisper, sighing, you turn on your phone screen just so you could see your valentine.

a picture of daniel at the italian gp, covered from head to toe in champagne. he had this huge grin on his face, bright and euphoric as he held his trophy up in his hand.

just a few more hours and you’ll be in his arms, you comfort yourself with that thought to keep you going. you stretch, hearing your back cracking and get back to work, opening your previous tabs and documents, getting back into the groove quickly.

the time ticks by as you fill your doc with words that flow easily out of your mind once you're in your zone. throughout the course of the day you’d been working on this particular piece in the back of your mind, whenever you’d give yourself a little break, your head would travel to this article and build sentences on its own, so it was no surprise once you finally finished it.

you were proud, but you couldn’t give yourself too much time to celebrate because you still had one more to finish.

a little over an hour later, you finally finish. you send them to your higher-ups for approval and turn everything off once it is saved. you make your way to the underground parking lot, typing a message to daniel as you descend in the elevator.

‘just finished. on my way home. love you’

‘drive safely, love you xxxxx’

you smile, turning on your car and leaving the empty parking lot. there’s a headache forming in the back of your head, no doubt from staring at the screen for so many hours, and not getting enough food. your stomach protests at the thought, and you nearly get in line for the drive-through at your favorite fast food place, but your eyes are starting to feel heavy. you decide to be a responsible adult and go home instead.

sleep really starts to take over you as you park your car and grab your bag. you lean against the wall of the elevator as you go up to your floor, closing your eyes until you hear the bell and the doors opening. you step out, fishing your keys out of your bag and opening your front door.

the unmistakable smell of greasy food fills your nose, there’s light music playing from a speaker, the lights are dimmed and your favorite candle is lit, next to the tv. there’s a paused movie playing, showing the old disney logo. right in front, on the coffee table, bags of food from your favorite restaurants. from michelin-award-winning restaurants, to the classic mcdonald’s. as well as different candies, chips, all your favorites.

“dan?” you say, a lump that had been forming on your back throughout the day was disappearing as you dropped your things on the floor.

“darling!” he greets you, his head popping out of your shared bedroom. “how was your day?” he steps out, opening his arms and you immediately take the opportunity to slide your arms around his waist and pull him incredibly close to you.

“like shit. i just wanted to drop everything and come home,” you hide your face in his chest, relishing in the warmth of his arms around your shoulders, the weight of his chin on top of your head is comforting and familiar.

“i’m sorry,” he sighs, “i know this isn’t much but i thought this would make you feel better,” he says, referring to the things on your table.

“daniel, are you kidding? i love it, honestly.” you lift your head from his chest, standing on your tiptoes, and he leans down a bit, connecting your lips. “i love you, thank you. i was feeling horrible all day, but just seeing you makes everything better.”

“come here,” he untangled himself from you, holding your hand and leading you to the comfy sofa. he sat you down, throwing a blanket over your legs as you giggled. “first course, pick,” he smiled, you scanned the bags.

“mcdonald’s,” you pick, making grabby hands at him. he laughs and plops down next to you, “god, there really is nothing like the smell of fast food,”

“yeah, baby,” daniel throws an arm over your shoulder, and you lean your head against his shoulder, biting on a soft fry as he presses play.

“what movie are we watching?” you ask, pressing a kiss to daniel’s cheek.

“can you guess?” he turns to you, raising an eyebrow.

“oh, no,” you laughed, “not the rescuers-”

“the rescuers down under, baby!” he hollers, cupping a hand next to his mouth so even the neighbors can hear him.

“stop, we’ll get another noise complaint,” you threw a hand over his mouth, but he quickly grabbed it and started leaving soft kisses on your skin. “dan,”

“i come from a land down under!” he tries to sing, loudly, “where beer does flow and men chunder-”

“daniel!” you squealed, trying to shut him up between giggles.

“can’t you hear the thunder?” it’s even worse when he tries to hit the high notes. “you better run, you better take cover!” he smiles and you grab his face, thumbs dipping on his dimples, and bring his lips to yours. “hmm, you can shut me up like this all day,” he smiles, knowing his plan worked.

“idiot. i love you,” your heart is pounding in your chest.

“even when i sing these melodic tunes?” he asks, singing the last two words.

“especially then,” you nod, letting him help you up until you’re straddling his lap.

“happy valentine’s, my lovie,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses on your neck, cheeks.

“happy valentine’s, sunshine,” you say, a nickname you usually saved for special occasions. his eyes light up, you saw his smile widening, his eyes nearly disappearing behind the apples of his cheeks.

an hour later, you’re watching another film, now taking spoonfuls of the cookies and cream ice cream daniel bought as well. you’re watching a movie about a girl who has the ability to travel wherever she wants to.

“if you could be anywhere in the world, right now, where would you be?” you ask daniel, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him.

“hmm… i don’t know,”

“come on, a place, any place, your favorite place,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger.

“i don’t know, i guess… wherever you are. i don’t care where i am as long as i’m with you. you’re my favorite place.”

“whoa, you know, i was trying to be funny, you didn’t have to destroy me like that,” you giggle, hiding your face in his neck. “you’re my favorite place, too. you’re my home.”

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daenqyu · 4 years ago

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— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!”

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me”

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again”

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is”

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here”

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?”

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

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peachpety · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to Thirteen Ficlets!

*Postings Soon Coming: October & November*

To further my adoration of HP and all things autumn, and in the spirit of my 2020 Autumn Drarry Drabbles, i'm asking for prompt requests!

As an act of self-kindness, i'm limiting myself this year to a (Un)Lucky 13 - a warm & sexy baker's dozen. If y'all would like, select one or several combined situational prompts and/or dialogue prompt from the lists below and send me an ask! I write primarily Drarry, but other HP pairings might feature!

xoxo peach 🍑

*EDIT: CLAIMED PROMPTS UPDATED**

🍁 Atmospheric 🍁

1.Rainy day 2.Foggy morning 3.Cold hands 4.Letters from the past 5.Walk in the Woods 6.Study Session 7.Bookstore Encounter 8.Golden Sunset 9.Antique/Thrift Shopping 10.Off-Season Hotel

🍎 Cute 🍎

11.Cinnamon Kiss 12.Sweater Weather 13.Umbrella Sharing 14.Sugar Rush 15.Couple Costumes 16.Library Meet Cute 17.Exchanging Notes 18.Coffee Date 19.Making Tea 20.Cuddly Reading Session

🥧 Warm 🥧

21.Picking mushrooms/berries 22.Apple Orchard 23. Farmer's Market 24.Family Feast 25.Making Jam 26.Apple Cider 27.Sturdy Boots 28.Kitchen Shenanigans 29.Acoustic Music 30.Game Night

🎃 Spooky 🎃

31.Ghost Stories 32.Animal Masks 33.Arachnophobia 34.Halloween Party 35.Witch Shop 36.Cemetery Stake-Out 37.Lost in the Woods 38.Strange Neighbors 39.Fortune Teller 40.Ouija Board.

💜 Romantic 💜

41.Fireside intimacy 42.Old Promise 43.Sharing Breakfast 44.Cabin Retreat 45.Keepsakes Box 46.Kissing in the Rain 47.Stargazing 48..Echoes from Another Time 49.Staying Warm 50.Fall Wedding

☕️Dialogue Prompts ☕️(sourced here)

1. “It’s a love potion! What could possibly go wrong?” 2. “I’m only a witch, not a miracle worker.” 3. “Stop putting your potion ingredients in the fridge!” 4. “We only have to make it until sunrise, which is… seven hours away.” 5. “Magic is a sophisticated craft. You can’t just say ‘pizza-us apparatus’." 6. “I can pass as a goth.” 7. “Can you tell me why you have an actual skeleton in your closet?” 8. “Wait, are you actually scared?” 9. “The ouija board says you’re a little shit.” 10. “I’d let you haunt me all night long.” 11. “Look, I dressed up as you.” 12. "If you say let’s split up, I swear to god.” 13. “I think the crystal ball is working. The spirits are telling me you’re a dumbass.” 14. “Why are you so determined to see this ghost anyway?” 15. “I dare you to go down there.” 16. “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” 17. “No, don’t come any closer!!“ 18. “You look good enough to eat." 19. “Halloween is my aesthetic.” 20. “You can’t just say words that sound like Latin and expect to make magic.” 21. “I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about.” 22. “The legend said it only goes after virgins…so sucks for you I guess.” 23. “I dare you to go in there. Alone.” 24. “We have to ask ourselves: what are magic’s limitations? Like, can it unburn my chicken nuggets?” 25. “Do you know any spells to get rid of this thing?”

#thirteen ficlets #autumn #fall is good for this #prompt list #fall writing prompts #autumn prompts #drarry fanfic #hp fanfic

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kireimarkeu · 4 years ago

Text

retrouvailles; l.mk

THIS IS A REPOST!!!!

Summary: counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

Mark is a jerk at one point. Also noticed how I put skype when they were calling through the phone and ft through laptop LOL

word count: 5.7k

Also lets pretend we can use spotify in korea ok

--Day 98

(10:33PM) Cutie: you idiot

(10:33PM) Cutie: answer my call!! You loserrrr

(10:34PM) You: omg give me a second

(10:35PM) You: ffs jshkdmj

(10:35PM) Cutie: omg what are you doing

(10:35PM) Cutie: why are you taking so long

(10:37PM) You: GIVE ME A SECOND

(10:37PM) You: im taking food

You plop onto your bed, placing the plate of grapes on the mattress, resulting in some to topple out of the bowl. You quickly pop one in your mouth before turning on your laptop.

Before you could even call Mark, he was already requesting a facetime with you. You immediately answered.

“Finally,” your boyfriend huffs when the call was finally connected.

You hum, your hands searching for more grapes that has dropped on your bed sheets, popping them in your mouth.

“What are you eating?” he asks.

“Grapes,” your voice came out muffled from chewing, but Mark understands.

“That’s what took you so long?” he frowns, “I can cut a watermelon in 5 seconds,”

“I didn’t ask,” you bite back.

Your boyfriend automatically raises his hand to flash his middle finger while you did the same back at him.

“What time is it there?” you ask him with raised eyebrows.

You were studying in Korea but because of the virus, you had to go back to Canada. You didn’t know how long you would be staying, but Mark had promised you that he would make it work.

“Um,” he looks at the clock that was a hanging next to him, “it’s 2:30PM here,” he answers, looking back at you, “It’s about 11 there, right?”

You nod.

“Don’t you have class tomorrow?” Mark asks.

Lucky for you, your classes has changed to the local timing in Canada. Meaning, you don’t need to stay up at ungodly hours for your classes.

“I think I can wake up tomorrow,”

“Do you want me to call you?”

“Please,” you pout.

Mark scowls jokingly at you, “the things I do for my girlfriend,”

You giggle innocently at your boyfriend, “I love you,” you make a heart with your hands, grinning at your laptop.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes.

--Day 90

“Babe, look up,” you call.

Mark looks up to see you holding your phone up, obviously filming him through the screen.

“What?”

He could hear you grinning from behind your phone.

“Smile,” you instruct.

He grins awkwardly while you let out a snort from behind the screen. You put your phone down, typing something before looking back up at your boyfriend.

“What did you do?”

You look up at him, biting back a smile— to which you failed, “go check Instagram,”

Mark immediately opens Instagram to see that you had posted something on your private Instagram. Only him and the members are following your private account since your relationship is still private.

He clicks on the bubble to see a video of him that you had recorded. When he smiles, his face morphed into a horse from of the filter you were using. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle at the funny effect.

“Okay, that’s kinda funny,” he admits.

He looks back up at you to see you holding your phone in front of your face again, probably trying another filter on him again.

“Is this another ugly filter, again?” whines your boyfriend.

You laugh, your phone not covering your face anymore, “it’s not!”

“Don’t lie,”

Your giggles got louder, “it’s not! I swear!”

“Fine,” he huffs. He straightens his back and stares at the camera, waiting for you to finish recording.

You put your phone down re-watching the video, chuckles leaving your lips.

“What filter did you use?”

“It’s on my insta, baby,”

He looks down on his phone again to see that you have posted another story. He immediately clicks on it to see it was an NCT filter.

‘Who is your NCT Bias?’ Was written on top of his head.

Mark waits for the filter to show the result. He grimaced when he got Jeno. He swipes up to reply to your story to send you a message.

markleeee99 replied to your story: ewww

--Day 87

(1:18PM) mwark: hello baby

(1:20PM) you: wht im having class rn

(1:20PM) mwark: so

(1:25PM) you: i have class??? go away loser

(1:25PM) mwark: :( I just wanna talk to my girlfriend tho :/

(1:27PM) you: later

(1:27PM) mwark: nooo

(1:33PM) you: omg youre an idol why are you so free

(1:34PM) you: go dance or rap or smth

(1:34PM) mwark: babyyyy

(1:35PM) you: im putting my phone on dnd

(1:35PM) mwark: nooo

(1:35PM) mwark: babe

(1:40PM) mwark: did you actually leave me D:

(1:40PM) mwark: ok whatev

(1:40PM) mwark: I was about to send you something but I guess I won’t now

(1:40PM) mwark: are you still ignoring me????

(1:41PM) mwark: omg babe I was jst joking I’ll send you some gifts

(1:41PM) mwark: booo u suck :(

--Day 81

This time, it was slightly different. Instead of your usual late-night calls through the computer, you had immediately skype him through your phone when you had received a package from Korea.

“You got me something?” you ask loudly when your boyfriend answered your call.

“Jeez, hello to you too, babe,” he rolls his eyes, “and yea, did it arrive?”

“What did you get me? And what type of shipping did you choose? It arrived so quickly,”

The box was pretty heavy, so you had to put your phone down to place the huge box on the counter before bringing your phone back into view.

“Express, I paid like extra,” Mark answers, eyeing you through the screen.

You click your tongue, opening the drawer to take out a knife, “stop wasting your money, you dumbass,”

Mark didn’t reply, instead he waits for you to open the package.

You let out a sigh, “what did you get me this time?”

You open the cardboard box, a navy-blue hoodie covering the top of it. You pull it out, looking at Mark who has a smile plastered on his face.

“Is this your hoodie?!” you squeal, putting it on yourself.

Your heart melt when the familiar scent fills your nostrils. It smells just like Mark.

“Canada is getting cold isn’t it? Keep yourself warm, baby,”

You lean over to take everything out from the box. Mark had given you his half-used cologne that he uses on a daily.

“I bought a new one just so I could give you mine,” he tells you, a playful smirk on his lips.

He had also packed some of your favourite Korean snacks, and some that you haven’t tried before. Along with some matching phone cases for the both of you.

“Now I feel bad I didn’t get anything for you,” you frown., pulling the hoodie over your head.

“Don’t be,” he reassures you, “being able to see you is already enough,”

You scrunch your nose in disgust, “cringey, Mark-ie,”

“Fuck you,” he chuckles, flashing his middle finger at you.

Your eyes widen when he cursed, “my mom’s home, you idiot!”

You laugh loudly when Mark’s eyes widen in surprise, both his hands covering his mouth.

“Y/N?” you hear your mom call from the living room, “who are you talking to?”

Before you could even reply, your mother was walking towards you.

“It’s Mark,” you answer as your mother got into frame to see Mark.

“Mark! It has been a while, how’s Korea?”

Your boyfriend greeted your mom politely, a grin plastered on his face. Your mom was about to reach for your phone to talk to Mark, but you frown and pull away.

“Noo, I wanna talk to Mark,”

You gathered the gifts Mark had given you in your arms before skipping up the stairs to your room, to spend the whole day (night for him) with him.

--Day 80

“Yo, Mark, there’s some food left outside, do you want it?” you heard Johnny ask from through the screen.

Mark turns to look at the intruder, “knock next time, dude,” groans Mark.

“Is that y/n?”

Johnny suddenly enters the frame with a gummy grin, waving enthusiastically at you.

“Hi Johnny, how are you?” you smile, waving back at the older boy.

Just when Johnny was about to get comfortable on Mark’s bed, your boyfriend let out string of whines, moving his phone until you could only see his cheeks.

“Ah, that’s enough,” your boyfriend says in annoyance, “y/n is tired, goodnight, baby.”

You couldn’t even reply because Mark had already ended the skype call.

You pout, opening your messenger to send a text to your boyfriend.

(7:35PM) You: heyyy why’d you end the call? ):

(7:36PM) Bubba: sorry

(7:36PM) Bubba: johnny was being annoying

(7:36PM) You: he wasn’t tho ):

(7:36PM) You: can we call again?

(7:38PM) Bubba: sorry angel

(7:38PM) Bubba: johnny wants me to go make music

(7:38PM) Bubba: later tonight?

(7:38PM) You: oky

(7:42PM) You: love u!

(7:42PM) Bubba: love u too

(7:42PM) Bubba: <3

--Day 76

You were in the middle of facetiming mark when your phone vibrates from a text. You raise your eyebrows, thinking it was Mark.

(12:11AM) Johnny: hey

(12:11AM) Johnny: I need to ask you something

(12:13AM) You: yeah?

(12:13AM) Johnny: is mark okay lately?

(12:13AM) You: he seems fine to me, why? Did something happen?

(12:14AM) Johnny: I don’t know if I should tell you about this

(12:14AM) Johnny: but

(12:14AM) Johnny: youre the only one who can probably help him

(12:14AM) You: help him with what?

You look up at your laptop to see that Mark’s eyes was still glued on his phone. Probably playing some games.

(12:17AM) Johnny: he hasn’t been eating lately

(12:19AM) Johnny: he doesn’t really tell us stuff anymore so I was wondering you would’ve known something?

(12:22AM) You: oh

(12:22AM) You: he hasn’t told me anything

(12:23AM) You: I’ll talk to him about it

(12:25AM) You: thanks johnny :)

“Hey,” you jump at your boyfriend’s voice. You snap your head to look at your boyfriend who was already staring at you with curious eyes. “What are you so busy with?”

You clear your throat, shaking your head, tossing your phone to the side.

“I wanna ask you something,” you say.

“Whats up?”

You scratch your head, unsure of how to put it into words without offending your boyfriend. You knew he hated being babied but you still want to care for him. He was your other half, after all.

“Have you been eating well lately?”

You could sense Mark was stunned by the random question. He looks away from your wary eyes.

“Who told you?”

“Mark—”

“It was Johnny wasn’t it?” he cuts you off in anger. “God damn it, this is why I don’t want you talking to my friends,”

Why was he making this such a big deal?

“Mark I was just asking a simple question, why are you acting this way?” you argued back.

He shakes his head, threading his fingers through his black hair stressfully.

“I need to go Y/N,” sighs your boyfriend, “Goodnight,”

“Mark—” you were too late. Mark had already ended the call.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you lied down on your bed.

You weren’t sure if you should text him or give him space. Should you apologize? Was it your fault for bringing it up?

After thinking for a while, you decided to send him a text.

(8:33PM) You: hi baby. I was just asking because I was worried about you. I know you hate it when I baby you, but I’m just looking out for you. I didn’t mean to bother you

(8:33PM) You: please don’t blame your friends for this.

(8:36PM) You: I’m sorry, okay?

(8:40PM) You: I just want you to eat healthily. I’m not there to take care of you and I just want you to be healthy.

(8:47PM) You: just text me whenever so we can talk this out

(8:57PM) You: goodnight, mark

--Day 75

(12:03PM) Lovey: hey

(12:03PM) Lovey: I was thinking and realised how selfish I acted towards you

(12:05PM) Lovey: I know you were just looking out for me and I was just wasn’t in the mood because of how stressful it has been

(12:05PM) Lovey: please don’t apologize. Its my fault

(12:15PM) You: why haven’t you been eating?

(12:15PM) Lovey: comeback

(12:15PM) Lovey: I’m trying to lose some cheeks for this comeback

(12:30PM) Lovey: sorry for worrying you

(12:31PM) You: whaa…

(12:33PM) You: but you know my favourite part of your face is your cheeks D:

(12:33PM) Lovey: :(

(12:33PM) You: will you start eating again?

(12:35PM) You: im not going to force you, mark. It’s really up to you.

(12:35PM) Lovey: im eating right now

(12:35PM) You: what are you eating

(12:38PM) Lovey: cereal

(12:38PM) Lovey: and um some left over sushi from yesterday

(12:38PM) You: ohhh sounds delicious

(12:40PM) You: okay I wont disturb you anymore, have fun eating bby

As you were about to put your phone away but there was an incoming videocall from your boyfriend. A small chuckle left your lips as you answered the call.

--Day 73

“Yo, did you see it?!” was the first thing Mark had asked you when you answered his call.

You raise your eyebrows in confusion, sitting up from your laying position, “see what?”

“We just posted a new dance practice; did you not see it?” his eyes widen dismay.

You shook your head, grabbing your laptop from the table, placing it on your lap, “nope, my phone was on dnd,”

“How did you answer my call, then?”

“You’re in my favourites dumbass,”

You type in your password before searching YouTube and clicking on the video that your boyfriend was talking about.

While watching the video, you placed your phone resting on the laptop so Mark could see your face. Throughout the whole video, you were singing softly to the song.

“Did you see that?! Did you see it?” Mark suddenly yells through the screen during the dance break part.

You jump a little, “what? What? What did I miss?”

He groans at you, “the bracelet! Johnny dropped it!”

“Huh?” you press the arrow to repeat it again and you noticed how Johnny’s bracelet fell while he was dancing.

“Wait a little more, I picked it up! Like a professional!”

You waited a little longer and your boyfriend was right. While he was getting into position, your boyfriend had swept the bracelet in his hands.

You grin, “proud of you, babe,”

You wanted to continue watching but your laptop started lagging from the terrible wi-fi. You groan in annoyance, pressing pause, hoping it would reload but it only hangs even more.

“God damnit, this fucking wi-fi,”

“Should I buy you a router? Or a new laptop?” he jokes.

--Day 71

(9:02PM) You: hey wanna call?

(9:02PM) You: today was so stressful I just wanna talk to you

(10:12PM) You: ahh you must be busy with comeback

(9:32PM) You: sorry babe! We’ll jst call tmr? :)

(9:33PM) You: love u! make sureee u drink lots of water <3

-Day 67

Mark lets out an aspirated sigh as he answers your facetime call. “What, Y/N?”

You frown at the way he greets you. He was moody probably because he just finished practicing.

You could tell from how he was laying on his bed without a shirt on, or how he would repeatedly thread his fingers through his black locks.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” you mumble out softly, your eyes softening, feeling guilty that you were disturbing him.

You bit your lip anxiously when Mark simply sighs, rolling his eyes slightly, “should we just call another time?”

He sighs once more, moving around until he lays on his side, “no, no, what’s up?”

You felt a little hesitant, unsure if he was being sarcastic or not. Mark wasn’t the type to approach something if he doesn’t like it, he would just go with the flow.

You shook your head, laying back down onto your bed, “No, you’re tired and I shouldn’t be disturbing you right now.”

Mark opens his mouth but you cut him off, “Sorry, Mark. Goodnight.”

You quickly end the call with a heavy heart, throwing your phone next to you. You knew you shouldn’t be expecting an incoming call from your boyfriend, but you shamelessly waited for his specific ringtone.

It did break your heart a little when you didn’t get any response from your boyfriend.

That night, you had spent your time watching Netflix with tears rolling down your cheeks.

-Day 62

“Y/N?”

A choked sob left your throat, your hands wiping the tears running down your cheeks.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Johnny’s voice filled your ears.

You gulp as your heart clench painfully when you hear Mark’s laughter in the background.

“Y/N, d-do you want me to pass the phone to Mark?”

“N-no,” you quickly say out, pausing a little. Hiccups leaving your lips, “d-don’t… please,”

“Okay?” Johnny replies in uncertainty, “Are you… okay? Should I beat Mark up?” he jokes.

You couldn’t bring yourself to smile. “How is he doing?” you whisper, but Johnny could hear very clearly.

You assumed that he had moved somewhere else since you can’t hear the boys screaming in the background.

“Did something happen?” Johnny asks, “I’m not with them right now, so you can tell me.”

You remember the last time you had last talked to Mark.

It has been exactly 5 days since the both of you last texted— or even called. You weren’t sure why or how it happened.

It had taken a big toll on you— you couldn’t focus during lessons and you had spent most of the nights wide awake, thinking what had gone wrong. You had contemplated multiple times whether you should send him a text, but every time you push yourself to say something, you would always remember how busy he is.

“We haven’t been talking for a while,” you answer painfully, “but he’s doing fine, right?”

You hope he’s doing fine.

You hear Johnny lets out an agitated sigh, “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll go talk to him, okay?”

“Just… don’t stress him out even more.”

“I won’t. Just… stop crying over him, okay?” he says, “Mark is an idiot, he’s not worth crying over.”

A small giggle leaves your lips, “you sound like a girl right now,”

-Day 61

(12:12AM) Mark: hey babe

(12:12AM) Mark: johnny just talked to me about what happened

(12:13AM) Mark: can we talk?

(12:45AM) You: okay

(12:45AM) Mark: great, I’ll call you

(12:45AM) You: no

(12:46AM) You: we’ll text

(12:46AM) You: here

You just know that you would be a sobbing mess once you hear Mark’s voice.

(12:46AM) Mark: oh

(12:46AM) Mark: okay

(12:46AM) Mark: youre okay tho

(12:47AM) Mark: right

(12:52AM) You: mhm

(12:52AM) Mark: that’s great um

(12:52AM) Mark: i didn’t know you were feeling that way

(12:53AM) Mark: i’ve been so busy lately i forgot to text or call you

(12:53AM) Mark: and that is not your fault at all

(12:53AM) Mark: i shouldn’t be acting like that in the first place

(12:54AM) Mark: its just really hard with timezones and everything

(12:54AM) Mark: especially with the comeback and all

(12:54AM) You: what are you saying mark?

(12:55AM) Mark: what?

(12:58AM) You: are you breaking up with me?

(12:58AM) Mark: wat? no. what.

(12:58AM) You: wait so we’re not breaking up?

(12:58AM) Mark: what

(12:58AM) Mark: no of course not what are you saying?

(12:59AM) You: I DON’T KNOW

(12:59AM) You: i thought you wanted to break up

(12:59AM) Mark: no I don’t want to what the fuck

(12:59AM) You: so we’re good now right?

-Day 51

Soft melodies were playing in the background while the both of you were doing different things.

You were sitting on your chair, your elbows pressing painfully against your desk, working on your homework diligently. Your phone was perched on your lamp, making sure Mark could see your face.

Your boyfriend was laying on his bed with a notebook laying in front of him, a pen in his hand while he thought of lyrics. He had his legs swinging back and forth behind him cutely.

You exhale loudly as you re-read the same question over and over again.

Mark immediately looks up, “you okay?”

You hum without even looking at him before you continued doing your work.

Mark decides to leave you alone as to not distract you. He rests his cheek against his arm as he tries to think of another sentence to finish the song he was working on.

His eyes slowly dart towards you who had their eyebrows furrowed cutely, a pout plastered on your lips, baby hairs littering against your forehead and cheeks.

Without even realising, a small smile spreads across Mark’s lips. His breath slows down as he relaxed and stares at your figure.

Multiple sentences that could be used as lyrics flooded through his head. He quickly sits up to write the flood of inspiration that was bursting through his veins.

-Day 43

(2:53AM) boyfie: duuudee!!

(2:53AM) boyfie: vlive!!

(2:53AM) boyfie: quick!!!!!

(3:15AM) You: omg ok give me a sec

(3:15AM) You: I just woke up

With a yawn, you open the vlive app and click on the NCT127 page to enter the live your boyfriend was doing.

‘Hi’ you type in the comment section. You stare at your boyfriend, scanning his facial expression to notice your comment.

Exactly 5 seconds later, a huge grin spreads across his lips as he looks up at the camera to wave.

It eased you to know that he was waving at you, for you. Maybe you were being selfish, but you were glad that Mark was yours. Although it does get on your nerves when you see your friends post about how much he loves your boyfriend.

‘mark is so handsome’ you typed.

Unfortunately, Mark didn’t notice your comment, but Donghyuck did. Donghyuck nudges your boyfriend, who immediately responded, turning to look at him.

His friend showed him your comment, which your boyfriend immediately smiles to.

‘I love mark lee so much!!!’

A few seconds later Mark creates a small heart at the camera before looking away with crimson red cheeks.

-Day 38

“So you and Mina, huh?” you say bitterly, rolling your eyes.

You were referring to the interaction between the two when Mina was leaving music bank. You might’ve been slightly jealous of the chemistry between the two, especially when all the fans would ship the both of them.

Mark can only watch you in amusement, a small smile playing along his lips.

“Is she better than me?” you say sarcastically, clicking your tongue,

You envied their friendship. Someone who was merely a friend was able to see your boyfriend so easily.

His face softens, “you know she’s not like that, baby,” his tone was soft, easy to persuade you.

Baby. You wanted to scoff at that. He only used that term when he was trying to win your heart.

You huff, crossing your arms violently. “You’re always with her!”

He chuckles, looking down at his phone before looking back up at you quickly.

You pout at the boy through the screen, “you love me more, right Mark?”

He sarcastically rolls his at your question. What kind of question was that?

His face scrunches in disgust, “Firstly, I don’t even love Mina that way, babe,” he tells you, “and secondly, the only person I love you, alright? So stop being jealous you wimp.”

“Wimp?” you scoff, “and you’re my boyfriend?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Just as you were about to respond to him, your phone vibrated with a notification. You look down and gaped.

_happiness_o wants to send you a message.

“Mark…”

You unlocked your phone to see the message that Mina was trying to send you.

“You told her?!” you exclaimed, looking up at your boyfriend who was stifling his laughter. “Mark! Why would you do that?!” you whine, throwing your phone next to you.

“In my defence, I didn’t tell her to send you a text,” he says, “I was just talking about how cute you were being!”

-Day 22

You were laying on your side, deep in a slumber while Mark stares at you lovingly.

Your cheek pressed cutely against your pillow which made your lips pout cutely. The little pieces of hair adorning your temples and cheeks only made Mark want to push it back against your ear. Something he would do every time you were sleeping with him.

He suddenly got an idea and fishes out his phone, searching a filter that he had saved for this particular moment.

He clicks on the filter, waiting for it to load for a moment, before adjusting the angle so the filter could scan his face properly. Once he was sure it won’t budge, he presses record.

‘your soulmate is sleeping right now’

A sad smile adorns his lips, looking at you through the screen. He flips the camera, zooming into your sleeping form then ending the video.

Mark was quite hesitant to post it since he was never the type to post about his relationship with you. But these past few days has been hitting him differently.

He missed you so much, he swore he could go crazy. He had spent another unreasonable amount on you again. He couldn’t even sleep because you were always stuck on his mind.

He bit his lip anxiously before posting the video on his Instagram story. He noticed how your phone vibrated right when it was uploaded— you had his notifications on.

-Day 15

“So it’s gonna be forever~” you sing loudly, pointing your hairbrush to Mark who was laughing loudly through the screen.

“Or it’s gonna go down in flames…” he sings off tune.

While you were busy singing and dancing from all Taylor Swift’s song, Mark had stealthily recorded you with his phone to upload them on his private Instagram.

‘idiot. But my idiot’ he captioned before tagging you and posting it on his page.

“Sing with me, Mark!” you shout, looking at your boyfriend. “Cherry lips, crystal skies, I could show you incredible things,” you sang, pointing at Mark.

Your boyfriend blushes when he realizes you were singing to him.

You cough loudly before clearing your throat after blaring out lyrics to Taylor swift. You reach for your cup of water before gulping it down.

“What song should we sing to next?” you ask, scrolling down through you and Mark’s playlist. The both of you had shared one account ever since he found out the both of you shared the same music taste.

“Should we do a rap?” he suggests.

You smirk up at him, “oooh, because you’re a rapper, huh? Okay, okay.”

You thumb press on ‘Beauty and a Beat’ by Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj.

“I’m a better rapper than you, Mark Lee,” you shout at your boyfriend before rapping to Nicki Minaj’s part.

It was so adorable at how you stumbled over some words, or when you had your eyebrows furrowed trying to rap to the lyrics.

At this moment, Mark thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You had your hair tied up in the ugliest bun he has ever seen, but you looked so adorable, especially in the huge t-shirt you were wearing. But most importantly, the huge grin plastered on your lips and tint of red adorning your cheeks, puts a smile on Mark’s face.

Right when the song has ended, you let out a tired sigh, lying against your bed.

“Am I better than you, Markie?”

He bit back a smile and nodded, “you should replace me in NCT, babe,”

You pretend to think, “I should, shouldn’t I?”

-Day 7

You were talking about Mark about your friend who had pissed you off earlier today.

He shrugs, “honestly, I saw that coming. I never liked her,”

You groan, throwing your head back, “I know right,” you stress, “I should’ve listened to you,”

Mark rests his cheek against his palm, “so what are you going to do?”

You pout, “I don’t know. What should I do, Mark?”

Your boyfriend hums, thinking for a while, “I think it’s best if you cut her off. She doesn’t deserve you, babe.”

You let out an aspirated sigh, frowning. “she was just a close friend…” you trailed off sadly.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “but your mental health is important too.”

Your eyes widen cutely, “I love you,”

That caught your boyfriend off-guard, his eyes widen in awe. “w-what, don’t be weird!” he sputters out.

“You’re weird!” you bite back.

-Day 3

“Mark,” you call out, your boyfriend immediately humming. “I learnt a new tiktok dance,”

He raises his eyebrows. He has never downloaded Tiktok but he knows how much you love the app. Most of the time the both of you were calling, you would be scrolling through the app, sending him links of videos that you found funny.

It was a secret: Mark never actually watches the video. But you do not need to know that.

“Show me, baby,”

You stood up, adjusting your laptop in a decent position. You reach for your phone to play the music before you started dancing.

Mark recognized the song as Savage. It was a song that Taeyong would constantly play.

Your boyfriend’s eyes widen in bewilderment, amazed at how good you were at dancing.

“Woah, woah,” he gapes when you started throwing back.

When the song ended, you ambled towards your laptop, “how was it? Was I good? Was I as good as Taeyong and Johnny?”

He rolls his eyes at that, “do you do it to other people?”

“What?”

“The throwing back thing,”

Ah. He was jealous.

You shrug, looking away from his intense gaze, “I don’t know. I was planning to ask some of my friends about their opinion.”

“Y/N,” he says sternly.

“I was joking! Jeez. You’re such a party pooper.”

-Day 2

You laid on your side, your arm supporting your head. A movie was playing on your laptop screen but you could only stare at Mark’s face.

He was busy laughing at one of the scenes but you couldn’t focus from his handsome face.

He was wearing the ugly black glasses that he chose a few weeks ago, but he still looked so good in your eyes. His black hair was styled messily from laying around.

“Babe, are you watching?” his eyes widen cutely after sensing how quiet you were being.

“I am,” you mumble out, but your eyes never leaved your boyfriend’s screen.

“Okay,” he whispers, resting his body as he continued watching the movie that was played on the screen.

At this moment in time, you wanted to tell Mark how much you love him. You wanted to smother him in kisses.

“Mark,” you called. You realise how he had paused the movie that was playing to listen to you. “I love you,” you tell him.

Mark was frozen for a second, confused yet flustered by your sudden confusion. He smirks, playing the movie, “weirdo. I love you too, you cutie.”

-Day 1

(11:01PM) bub: babyyyy hiiiii

(11:01PM) bub: wanna call ;)

(11:05PM) bub: hello why r u not replying

(11:05PM) bub: it’s only 11 there

(11:10PM) bub: I know youre not asleep babe

(11:10PM) bub: arghhh

(11:10PM) bub: are you asleep????

(11:10PM) bub: :(

(11:10PM) bub: well ok gn bb I’ll talk to you tmr

(11:10PM) bub: love youuuu

D-DAY

You were laying on Mark’s bed restlessly, waiting for your boyfriend to reach his dorm. When you heard the door unlock, a grin spread across your lips when you saw your boyfriend walk in.

“Hi Mark,” you greet, waving at your boyfriend.

Mark looks up at you and nods, “hi y/n,” he says back before turning the other way to go to the bathroom.

You bit back a smile quietly, giving him a minute to realise. You quietly stood up by the bed to amble towards your boyfriend.

“Wait,” he pauses, turning around slowly, his eyes widening at the sight of you walking up to him, “w-what? Is this real? y/n?”

You smile at him, spreading your arms, waiting for him to tackle you in a hug. “I’m here, baby.”

“Oh my god,” he breathes out before rushing towards you to pull you against his chest. “You’re here, oh my god,”

You rest your head on his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. You’ve missed the moment for so long. For more than 3 months, you had to live without Mark’s presence.

He pulls you away, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “How— what are you doing here?!” he exclaims.

Your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, “to see you, of course!”

“You surprised me!” he exclaims, pulling you in for another hug, “oh my god, you scared me so much, I love you so much. When did you get here? You didn’t answer my texts yesterday!”

“I love you too and I was in the plane, I couldn’t text you back,” you reply, however your voice was muffled by the black cotton shirt he was wearing. You pull away, looking up at him, “are you not going to kiss me?” you asked abruptly.

He looks down at you with wide eyes, “w-what. That is so sudden, don’t say that!” he stutters out, looking away from you.

You pout at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “what? I came all the way here, didn’t get enough sleep just to see my boyfriend but he won’t kiss me?”

He scowls at you, his arm dropping to rest around your waist. He leans down to connect both your lips. You felt your heart spark when you felt his lips graze against yours.

You didn’t even realise you were pulling him down even more to kiss him deeper. Mark’s grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer.

“Ah, the kids have finally met,” you heard someone say from behind you two.

Mark and you pull away breathlessly, his lips tinted a bright shiny red. The both of you turn around to see Taeil standing at the door.

Your boyfriend whines, “Go away, Hyung,”

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twaaay · 3 years ago

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Just some fun time with prompt generators I had, why not post it here too?

1. Y/N repair the attendant`s body after Moon`s shenanigans (they fell or got into a another fight with fellow animatronic or got a prank put of control etc) as Sunny complains and wines about it.

2. Sun\Moon watching Y/N doing something stupid and just smiling because they get to marry this dumbass someday.

3. Sun goes up to Y/N and grabs them into the air and spins them around, Y/N asks what they are doing and Sun responds with, “I just realized I love you, and it feels amazing.”

4. Y/N being super tired and as Moon is helping them to bed Y/N says “You know I have a crush on you two, right?”. Sun screeches like a siren in their shared headspace, Moon short circulates but Y/N is already deep asleep, no idea they just broke the daycare attendant. It`ll be a fun ride once they woke up.

5. Y/N falls asleep on their shift so Moon carries them to bed with them.

6. Sun and Y/N as the scene from The Owl House where Amity kisses Luz on the cheek and freaks out after it.

7. Sometimes Y/N struggles with noise. It could be something small like the tap dripping that could set them off on their worst days, so often Sun/Moon will lie with them in bed when things get bad and massage their head with their fingertips as Y/N takes in their scent and listens to soft daycare music playing in the background.

8. Y/n’s partner breaks up with them, and although daycare attendant feels bad for y/n, they can’t help but feel a certain…relief.

9. Moon and Y/N are watching a movie together at naptime corner. Y/N gets tired and leans against Moon's shoulder and mutters half-asleep: "more comfortable.."

10. Y/N living on a farm and their parents brought Sun/Moon as a farmhand. Y/N attempts to show android how everything works and every time Sun/Moon messes up, Y/N laughs hysterically.

11. Y/N is or gets turned into a child in this prompt. Moon, as a daycare attendant they are, tuck Y/N into bed and stay with them until they fall asleep. This prompt is supposed to be taken in more of a platonic way, as fluffy interaction between the characters.

12. Sun`s tries their best to stay quet while Y/N takes a nap.

13. Y/N finds Sun/Moon ignoring the problems with a scowl on their face.

14. Sun and Y/N finger painting with a child.

15. Y/N: Maybe we’ll just, I don’t know, run away? Live in the woods? On the moon?

16. Before they started dating, Sun/Moon and Y/N are best friends. Whenever Sun/Moon would get upset, hurt or just really tired, they would snuggle up on Y/N and nuzzle their face into the crook of Y/N’s neck. When Sun/Moon and Y/N finally confess their feelings for one another and begin dating, Sun/Moon immediately snuggles up in 'their' spot on Y/N and just completely relaxes. Y/N asks why they always do this, and Sun/Moon replies that it makes them feel safe and calm.

17. Sun/Moon waking up in the middle of the night from reast mode to find Y/N still working. Sun/Moon has to drag Y/N back to bed.

18. Moon: Do you want to join me in my blanket fort?

19. Someone 'accidentally' left the Christmas mistletoes up all over the place and both Y/N and Sun constantly got under one after another during the day. (Moon: no need to thank me, just hit the light switch before you overheat us) The children are ecstatic lil shippers.

20. Sun is trying to impress Y/N and ends up falling flat on their face. As Sun lays on the ground and slowly die from embarrassment, Y/N has a mind blowing realization that they actually really like that dork and when they help Sun up off the ground, they pull them into a kiss.

21. Y/N teaching Sun how to use their new tongue and Sun ends up kissing Y/N really quick, nervously asks 'Like that?' and leaves Y/N silent and flustered for a moment.

22. Moon: You can stay one night. But that’s it. In the morning, you better be gone.

23.

Y/N:*Kisses Sun/Moon's forehead*

Sun/Moon:*frowns* You missed

Y/N:...?

Sun/Moon:*Leans forward and kisses Y/N's lips*

24. Sun trying to surprise Y/N with a lovely, self-made Valentine's dinner. However, Sun isn't that skilled at cooking and by the time Y/N comes to find them, the kitchen is a mess and Sun is distressed and close to tears.

25. Moon and Y/N sleeping together. Moon wakes up first and contemplates waking Y/N with a kiss. Moon leans in only to hesitate centimeters away out of embarrassment. Y/N opens their eyes and says, 'Well if you won't do it, I will.'

#fnaf y/n #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon

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magpiie · 5 years ago

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Kidnapped by Baby Yoda pt. 3

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

hey guys pls lmk what you think and be honest!!! thank you so much for 80 notes holy fucking shit wowie

It's weird one day you're assisting teaching a class to a bunch of miscellaneous alien children on nevarro hating your life, and the next you're stuck on a ship with a mandalorian and his foundling who inexplicably decided he needed you to come.

“I'm going to talk to him today kid, believe me” you said to the lump of wool perched on your knee. Mando was out doing maker knows what, and you were left alone with the little guy like always. His big eyes gazed at you dubiously as if to say suuuuure. The amount of judgmental bitchy energy he could produce sometimes was astounding. “No really, i've been living here for what, uh 3 weeks maybe? And all we've really said to each other was the initial greeting and uh the exchange of names?” The last part trails off as you realize you don't even know his name. You said yours but he responded with telling you to call him Mando. So you didn't push it. You dont know alot about mandalorians considering they are almost extinct and their beliefs are often made to seem like folklore. But you do know that individualism and identity is not something particularly celebrated. So you decided to leave the amount of information he wants to share with you up to him out of respect. So far that's been none. “So, kid, how'd you break through his shell? He likes you?” the child just blinks unhelpfully. “I mean you never talk to him, but i've tried that and we saw how that went” literally radio silence from him. You don't particularly think of yourself as an extrovert who constantly needs interaction but you do need some. And currently you have the kid as a companion and if you didn't know any better you'd say Mando was a droid with how he acts. You also resolved that you needed to help out more. Basically you were a glorified babysitter and the idea that Mando was going to realize that he was better off without you on his ship as deadweight terrified you. You were a good cook, I guess you could say, but Mando always brought food back with him when he went out and then would hide in his room to eat in privacy. So that's not very helpful. The main thing that you could offer him was medical help. Back on Nevarro growing up you were the youngest of three older brothers. And considering your mother wasnt really in the picture, you had to take up the doctor role for the amount of fights three older boys could get into. You knew how to treat basically any external damage and how to sterilize and limit risk of infection. But how would you ever bring that up to mando if you guys didn't even greet each other in the mornings? Sometimes you would try to talk to him with something as simple as “good morning!” or “welcome back” or “night” or even just a simple “hey” sometimes he would bless you with a monosyllabic grunt but never anything more. But hey, you would take what you would get. After a week of this call and no response bullshit you kinda gave up and have spent the last two weeks in silence other than your episode this morning with the “good morning” fiasco. You feel your mortification settle back into your stomach at the fool you made of yourself. “Maker above, mando must hate me.” sometimes you wondered if he regretted asking you to come. But he doesn't really seem like the type of person to let you stay if you annoyed him. “Ok bug, here's the plan. What im gonna do is i will say hey when he comes back, sound good?” you look for confirmation from the creature and he gives you a slight tilt of his chin. Satisfied you continue, “and i will uhm say good night and good morning every day until he responds or tells me to shut up.” you finish with a huff of breath. This will either end with you finally finally getting to have real human interaction or left on some random ass planet god knows where.

Mando makes his way back to ship feeling the pebbles crunch beneath the heavy sole of his boot. This planet was a desert planet much like nevarro, he wondered if you missed home. Mean no shit she's probably homesick dumbass he thinks its not like he was doing anything to make the ship feel welcoming. Like talking to you. But you made the ship feel like a home for the kid and that's more than he could ever want. You probably didn't realize how much what you were doing meant to him. You made the kid happy, you were giving him something that mando never could, a mother figure. Mando tried his hardest to be what he thought was a father for the kid but it was hard. He had to go and work and it wasn't safe to bring a kid so he was often swept around to different planets and left for hours by himself waiting for mando to come back and it was hard on mando. But you, now you were there. And the kid was always safe with you. He should probably teach you some self defense he thought considering how dangerous being associated with him was especially considering you needed to protect the child. But honestly, mando had no idea if you knew how to protect yourself, you might, space is a dangerous world. He only knew that you were a teacher but that was it. Slightly alarming that he implicitly trusted you without any prior knowledge of you or your credentials. You could be a bounty hunter assigned to kill him for all he knew, or to steal the kid, but you probably would have done that by now. Mando didn't know what made you trustworthy to him. You just were. And that terrified him.

You're sitting in the cockpit with the child pretending to fly the ship as he gurgles happily in your lap. you giggle at the little guy and make finger guns and pretend to shoot an imaginary monster outside the window, “i'm the most fearsome bounty hunter in the guild,” the child lets out a particularly loud noise at that, “uhhh yes i am dont laugh at me, i am feared far and wide across the galaxy,” you tickle his sides with that one. youre so into playing with the kid you don't realize mando was back and is staring at you from the entryway to the cockpit. “You think i could take on your daddy, bug? You think it'd beat him in a shootout? Huh?” you say with your fingers poised and ready at the window.

“Not a chance,” says a deep voice that vibrates into the floor. You let out an embarrassing startled shriek and feel your heart do twenty somersaults and settle in your feet. The child screams at the interruption and immediately wiggles out of your grasp and waddles to Mando giddily.

“I-i i was uh joking, really i was,” you stutter out cringing at the incredulous tone your voice comes out as. Remembering your resolve to talk to him you continue on even though you feel like you might throw up your breakfast from nerves. “He misses you during the day,” gesturing to the child, “so i pretend to be you” you finish realizing that sounds super fucking creepy, “well not like- you- like- you, but i pretend to like uh pilot the ship and uh shoot um things?” you ramble lamely. A huff sounds from the mandalorian and if you allowed yourself to think wishfully it was laughter.

“Doesn't surprise me. Before you he came everywhere with me.” you feel your eyebrows raise. Everywhere? Shit.

“Must've been difficult to complete jobs and have to keep track of him,” you say nodding your head towards the little lump of brown wool. Mando offers you an affirmative grunt before setting the child down and turning on his heel towards the fresher. So that was an improvement, you think. Got ten whole words out of him. You feel a grin split your face. Hopefully this means you are past the dancing around each other relationship. And maker above, his voice, wow. If only you could wake up to that every morning. Deep and melodic. You wonder how deep and gravelly it sounds in the mornings. Or how your name would sound tumbling off his lips in pleasure. Nope. not going down that path. That is NOT platonic thoughts. You literally had your first conversation with him since the first day you met him and you're already thinking about that? Seriously pull yourself together. You don't even know what he looks like, or how old he is. Like what if he's like 70. And really ugly. What if your having sex dreams about someone like your grandpa. Ew. Your face contorts at the thought of Mando looking like your grandpa. Okay gross stop. You need to get to know him. Have civil conversations. Push down the gross thoughts. Even if his voice sounds like honey. And home.

You're sitting in the chair behind the pilot seat reading a random book Mando left out on the scattered floor. Its some type of mechanical manual so its truly riveting. Note the sarcasm. The child's asleep, and seeing as though mando is cooped up in his room this book is better than twiddling your thumbs mindlessly. You decided that if you were going to stay on mandos ship you should at least try to pick up some mechanic skills. Better than the rudimentary at best you had at the present moment. You knew how to fix blatant errors in engines and how to reconnect wires if the instructions were explained thoroughly and very slowly. Okay maybe you didn't really know anything past engines. But that was better than nothing? Kinda? You sigh closing the book after rereading the same sentences about pre-imperial versus post-imperial hyperdrives. Maker what was the difference? The both made the ship go super fast or something? Was that the hyperdrive? You shook your head feeling the thought start to culminate into a downward spiral of what a hyperdrive truly was. You looked around the cluttered hull and decided that you should probably occupy yourself by cleaning up the mess. Mando might appreciate it, it'll also make you less of a deadweight on the ship. It was crazy how much shit one man and his child could accumulate on one tiny ship. You don't think you had ever seen this many small metal bowls in one place. The stack currently in the corner probably contained about 12. In what universe would 2 creatures ever need the same bowls 12 times. Well you guess now it's three. The thought filled your chest with a balloon of warmth only to be popped by the realization that you weren't part of the little family mando and the child were. At best you were a business associate. The kids stand in caregiver. Babysitter.

The realization that you didn't have anyone to call family at your disposal fell heavy on your shoulders. Sinking you into the corner of the hull. You dont think youve ever felt more alone. In the cold corner of the hull with a hand pressed to your chest in an attempt to quell your ragged breaths. Like a small raft cast into the oceanic expanse of space. If you drowned, who would notice? Certainly not your family, they were maker knows where, probably light years away. You didn't even know what sector you were in anymore. What would your father think of your decision to leave nevarro? You hadn't seen him in a while but you remembered the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And how he would hug you after a long day. Hold you like you were still his little girl. The craving for a warm embrace from a solid body slammed into you with all the force of a meteor. Leaving you stunned and lost. You briefly wondered how mando coped. How did he deal with the overwhelming feeling of loneliness? How did he leave his guild? Did he miss them? Were they like a family? Did he think about them often? How did he cope with the lack of touch? Or did he not think about it at all? Did he not need it? Was he so disconnected from the world through his beskar that he couldn't remember the feeling of someone's fingers on his skin? Etching a path with the searing heat they exuded. Hearing approaching footsteps you attempt to pull yourself together. Regulate your breathing, get rid of tear tracks and lose the flush coloring your face. You could do this. As he rounded the corner he stopped. You peered up at him from your curled up position on the floor and offered him a smile that felt unconvincing even on your lips. He tilted his head slightly at you and made his way cautiously to where you were. He bent slightly and offered a brown leather clad hand to you. For a second the only sound heard was the faint crackle of his breathing in his helmet. You could see him faltering. Here he was offering you comfort in your clearly distressed state and you were pointedly ignoring it. You laced your fingers with his and nearly doubled over from the strength he exuded into pulling you up. As soon as you were fairly steady on your feet you marveled at your hand shocked by the warmth creeping through the leather of the glove permeating into your palm. He sighed, a deep release of tension from his shoulders followed. “What's wrong?” he said, his hand still lazily grasping your fingers. You looked at him, what was wrong?

“How do you do it?” you said echoing his words from your first meeting to him. his thumb dragged a slow line along your wrist. When he didn't respond you added, “how are you okay with being alone?” if you could see his face you would say he looked taken aback. He released your hand.

“I'm not.” he offered. Confused as to which question he was answering you remained silent hoping to prompt him to continue. He started again, “I'm not alone, not truly. I have him.” he gestured vaguely to his sleeping quarters where the kid slept. He rubbed the back of his neck,

“And neither are you.”

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

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in support of Texas relief, @doilycoffin donated $100, and requested Liam & Cordell Walker. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

(read on AO3)

One of Liam's earliest memories is the time Cordell dropped him on his head. Not actually accurate at all to the way it went but that's how it's told in the family mythology. He was really little, three maybe or four—for some reason that part's indeterminate—and Cordell was climbing the stable and playing adventurer, or maybe just showing off and the adventurer part was a good excuse. Liam was following Cordell around like he always did and he tried to climb up, too, on the fence that kept in the horses when they were let out for their run, and Cordell told him no and that he was too little but Liam was determined to try. Cordell climbed back down and tried to steady him where he'd made it up to the top rung of the fence, and Liam lost his balance anyway, and fell straight backwards and landed headfirst on the dirt. There was a little rock and then a lot of blood, and then stitches, and Mama fussing and their dad ripping Cordi a new one—Liam doesn't even remember that it hurt—but the part that sticks it as a memory is how they all rode together in the truck back and forth from the doctor and Cordell held his hand in the backseat and he was crying, the whole way home, a silent seeping kind of crying that made his face a shiny mess. Liam thinks about that weirdly often. Cordi looking out the window and crying.

When the story gets retold for new friends, or the kids, or Cordell's buddies from the Rangers come around for coffee and Mama's pecan pie, they tell it that Cordell's so clumsy he dropped his baby brother on his head. Liam sort of hates it, every time. Cordell laughs and does the aw shucks routine he's so good at, relaxed with his beer and shrugging embarrassed apology. When Liam was about to head off to college, his eighteenth birthday dinner, Daddy told the story again as a kind of miracle survival, and Liam got up from the table real fast and went out onto the porch, annoyed for some reason beyond measure. It was Cordi who got up and came after him and said, a little cautious, "What's up, Stinker?" and Liam said to him, mad, "Why don't you ever tell people it was me? I was the one climbing up after you. It's not like you did it on purpose."

Cordell just blinked at him. "What does it matter?" he said. "You were the baby and I was a dumbass kid. So what?" He hooked his arm around Liam's neck and he smelled like sweat and Old Spice and that laundry detergent Emily bought that wasn't anything like the one they used at home. Liam pushed at his side but didn't try hard to get away. Not that it would've worked. "It's how we figured out how hard that head was, right? Come on. Mama's gonna wonder if you didn't like the brisket."

Liam let himself be dragged back into the house, and Cordi pushed him down into his chair right between him and Emily, and Emily smiled at him easy, and passed him the potatoes. "One month 'til the dorms," she said, very quiet so no one else could hear under Cordell telling some awful lie about Liam having gas, and Liam laughed, surprised, and it just happened that it was the same time everyone else laughed so that was okay. He always liked Emily. Cordell punched his thigh lightly on his other side, and gave him a warmer more real smile, and Liam dropped it, and he didn't complain about the story again.

Seven years between them. Liam always wondered if he was an accident, even if Mama said that with Cordell going to school she was ready to have another baby around the house. Cordell was always the one who was getting into trouble. Rambunctious, loud, falling headfirst into things and getting dragged out covered in mud. Liam learned from his example what not to do. Do not: run along the bleachers at the football stadium and vault the handrails until your foot gets caught and you fall and snap your wrist clean in two. Do not: get caught drinking beer with your high school girlfriend behind the horsebarn, and make Daddy give the most mortifying sex talk in the world afterward. Do not: make friends with the most delinquent-ass kid in the whole hill country and wind up explaining every other week why, really, he wasn't that bad, give him a chance—

Somehow even then he was the golden child. Not the best grades, not the most obedient. That wasn't what their dad cared about. Cordell was good on a horse, good on his feet. Respectful when it mattered and devil-may-care when it didn't. In high school he was the quarterback, of course he was, and Liam was right there in the stands with their parents every Friday night, cheering his lungs out. Weirdly boastful with his fourth-grade friends: his older brother was the star of the football team. His older brother could ride a bull for ten seconds and get off hardly winded. Bookish, kind of short, he needed the borrowed glory of Cordell's success to be proud of. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it got him pushed over on the soccer field while some bigger boy went, gawd, William, who cares?

Liam never got in trouble. Never broke a bone. After bringing Cordell back from the hospital with a fresh new cast on his ankle and a dopey slightly-drugged smile on his face, Mama settled him in bed with Liam's help and turned off the light and then, in the kitchen, sighed and said, "Liam, you are a real relief to the mind, do you know that?" He was proud of that, too, in that moment. It wasn't until later that it nagged at him. A therapist asked him, much later in a sleek Manhattan office that smelled faintly of sage, "Do you think your predilection for being contrarian results from that time?" He went home annoyed with her, and was more annoyed when he told Bret the story and Bret didn't even turn around from the carbonara he was making and said, "Babe, you're the most contrary person I know."

He wasn't. He didn't—think he was. He… was, he realized, after a week of sitting with it, and a week after that it made sense. He didn't pick fights, and he didn't make waves. His rebellion was quiet. His hard head, forcing him to make his own space in the world. Not able to live up to Cordell and knowing instinctively that it would be awful even to try—and so taking the opposite turn, every time. It was better than being compared, even if he knew there was no chance but to be compared.

He studied hard. He read, all the time. He liked math and literature equally and did equally well in both. He hated P.E. but he did what he could there, too, and he learned to ride even if he didn't actually love horses the way the rest of the family did, and when Daddy asked if he wanted to join up with the little league baseball Liam asked to play soccer, instead, and Daddy frowned but Mama said, "Why not, I've seen enough boys drop foul balls for a lifetime." So, soccer, and most of his games were during the day or on Saturday mornings, but Cordi came to a lot of them anyway, and when Liam's team won Cordi would jump down onto the field and grab him up by the waist and crow David Beckham, right here! Little David Beckham for sale! Liam would struggle and then he'd be slung headfirst over Cordell's shoulder like a potato sack and his face would get so red from laughing that it hurt.

On September 12, 2001, Mama and Daddy were gone from the house when Liam got home from school and he was glad for it. That was a Wednesday. He was in sixth grade. The teachers weren't even trying to hold normal lessons and everyone was talking about what had happened the day before. Melissa Kettering was out that day and the rumor was that her dad had been on a business trip in New York. Liam had raised his hand and asked the social studies teacher if there was going to be a war, like there was after Pearl Harbor, and she sat down on her desk and shook her head and didn't answer.

He was trying to read his book for English when the phone rang. Cordell, calling from his apartment in town. Hey, buddy, he said, over the line, and Liam sat down on the floor by the phone table and closed his eyes, unaccountably almost about to cry. Is Daddy there? Liam told him he was home alone. Lucky, Cordi said, you can totally throw a rager, and Liam didn't laugh, and neither did Cordell, even though he always laughed at his own stupid jokes. Hey, um. I shouldn't—I don't know if I should tell you this but I've gotta tell someone, and Em's in class, and I just have to—I did something, and I need to—

He interrupted himself and Liam could hear him breathing over the line. He didn't want Cordell to say anything. If he didn't say anything then Liam could pretend that he was going to tell a story about some party they'd gone to at Emily's sorority, or that Hoyt had come back into town and they'd seen a show at ACL, or that he was gonna come stay that weekend, and maybe he and Liam would go riding. Anything but what he was about to say. Liam could hear it, in his head. He could hear it like it had already been said and it was echoing, now, inside, like a verse from a song he'd always, always remember.

Cordell graduated from the Marine boot camp on a Saturday in the middle of December. Liam went along even if he wasn't allowed to attend the actual ceremony and Daddy complained about the cost of the plane tickets until Mama told him to shut up. Liam sat between them on the flight and it was the first time he was ever in the air. Over the top of Mama's crossword book he watched the clouds go by over New Mexico, Arizona, with complete wonder. San Diego, then, different to Austin—palm trees, and the air so wet, and even the parking lot at their hotel smelling like warm flowers.

Mama gave him fifty dollars before they left for the graduation. They were bringing Cordell back, after, because they got one night with him before they had to give him back to the military. "Order a pizza," she said, "at 4:30 exactly, and we should get back at the same time the pizza comes so we can all eat together." Liam watched American Pie on the hotel tv while he waited, something he would never have been allowed at home. He made the call when he was supposed to, and when the girl on the phone asked him what toppings his mind went completely blank because he was never allowed to make that decision. Cordi liked ham and pineapple and none of the rest of them did. Liam ordered it with extra pineapple.

When a knock came on the hotel room door Liam jumped up to open it, cash in hand. The one holding the pizzas was Cordell, grinning at him with Mama and Daddy standing behind. "Pizza delivery," Cordell said, and Liam crashed into him for a hug so hard that Cordi almost dropped the boxes and said whoa, Stinker, soft and laughing.

His hair was cut off, an inch on top and shorter on the sides, so he looked like those pictures of their grandpa when he was in Korea. He was skinny, too, which Liam didn't get, because he thought boot camp was all about building up muscles. "Mostly running," Cordi said. He was tired, dark circles under his eyes. He was stretched out on one bed with his strange starched blue pants and the awful khaki shirt that made him look washed-out pale even if he'd been running around San Diego for thirteen weeks, and Mama was sat next to him squeezing his arm like he'd evaporate if she looked away for a minute, and even Daddy was hovering. Proud but worried. Liam sat by Cordell's boots and tugged on the laces, wanting to ask more questions but not daring to.

Cordi fell asleep before six o'clock. Daddy turned on the television real quiet to the news. More stuff about the invasion. Liam hoped it'd be all over by the time Cordi got there. Mama boxed up the remaining pizza, shaking her head. "Don't know why you picked pineapple, kiddo," she said, and Liam shrugged, sitting at the table, watching Cordell's face, turned away a little on the pillow. Liam wanted to shake him awake but of course he didn't. For his whole life, after, he gets a little sick to his stomach when he smells pineapple.

While Cordell was in Afghanistan Mama and Daddy had Emily over to the house a lot. She was sweet. Respectful of Mama, calling her ma'am half the time, and charming to their dad even though Liam knew that she and Daddy probably disagreed on more than things than not. She liked that Liam played soccer and asked if he ever watched the Premiere League. Liam didn't even know what that was. She helped Mama cook supper and went out and took pictures of the horses which made Daddy smile, and one time when Liam went outside after dinner to read she was there crying, on the porch, quiet with her hand over her mouth, and Liam hung back and didn't know what to say. "Sorry," she said, dashing at her cheeks with the heel of her hand. She licked her lips and nodded at his book, sniffing. "That's a good one. You should read the sequel, too." He did, and told her about it, and she smiled like a sunrise, the way she always did, and he felt like—he didn't even know, what he felt like.

Liam was the best man at their wedding. He felt and looked ridiculous. Fifteen in a tux and he didn't know how to tie a bow-tie, but Cordi didn't either, so Daddy had to do it for both of them, grumbling the whole time that they should've learned this by now. "Not a lot of bowties in Kandahar, Daddy," Cordell said, winking at Liam, and Liam—blushed. Ridiculous, and embarrassing, the way the whole affair and the lead-up had felt, but Cordell didn't seem to care or notice, so—there was Liam, blushing in a bowtie.

Cordell had only been back for a year and somehow things were off. He was serving the rest of his contract out in the reserves but he wasn't finishing up his degree like he'd told Mama he would. He'd entered the training program for the state troopers and was set up to be a highway cop, of all things. He'd rented a house in Austin with Emily and they lived together the whole year before the wedding—an argument with Daddy about that one, which Liam listened to from the hallway with his heart pounding—and they weren't even going to be married in the church because Emily didn't want a wedding mass and, Liam suspected, Cordell didn't either. Daddy lost that argument, too.

The wedding was tiny. Liam the best man, Geri the maid of honor. Emily's aunt that raised her on one side and Daddy and Mama on the other, and a handful of Cordell and Emily's friends making up the numbers in the little rented hall. Afterward they had a bigger barbecue out at the ranch and in front of the crowd Emily fed Cordell a dainty forkful of the lemon cake and Cordell responded by dotting a tiny bit of frosting on her nose and kissing it off, and Mama's best friend Sue-Ellen sighed and said to Mama, where Liam could hear, "Well, Abilene, maybe they're atheists but I daresay you raised that boy right every other way," and Mama said something dry back but Liam was watching how Cordell cupped Emily's cheek in his hand, smiling down at her like she hung the moon, and he thought, yeah. Yeah, Cordell was just about perfect, wasn't he.

"High school in the fall, right?" Emily's aunt said, later. "Emily says you play soccer. Going to try out for the team?"

Cordell and Emily were dancing, swaying in the grass, the bonfire leaping up behind them. His hand still on her cheek. "I'm quitting soccer," Liam said, without even realizing he was going to. "I'm going to try out for wrestling, instead."

He figured out he was gay relatively early. His friends at school got hold of a Playboy in fifth grade and didn't really know what to do with it beyond blustering. This was before anyone but nerds was on the internet, and Liam was a nerd but did a decent job of hiding it. Scott beckoned Liam over while they were waiting for the buses and showed him the top of the magazine, the bold logo and the girl with her boobs pushing up out of her bra—the group of them snickering, saying how hot she was—and that they were going to look at it at Scott's house later if Liam wanted to come over—and Liam said, "No, my mom's making me go to the store with her." The lie came out effortlessly.

They did have a computer at home, and dial-up internet it had been very, very hard to argue Daddy into. He hardly knew how to find anything but he did some careful searches while Daddy was out with the horses and Mama was cooking, singing bad over the stove like she tended to. Made Liam's face hot to see some of what he was seeing. Hoyt came over, once, while Cordi was away in the war, and he helped Liam and Mama dig out a bunch of tomatoes that hadn't grown in right, and afterward they sat on the porch drinking lemonade while Mama asked Hoyt all about the oil field he said he'd been working in and Liam watched how Hoyt's legs sprawled out on the porch, how his jeans hugged up against his calf muscle and how the sweat had made his white shirt nearly transparent, and he had to sit very careful on the bench with his knees drawn up to hide the effect it had on him.

When Cordell came home from Afghanistan they threw a huge party. Everyone came, Daddy's friends and Mama's, and Emily and their friends from college, and even Hoyt, magicked up out of somewhere (for the promise of free beer, Daddy said), and then Liam, the youngest person there, watching from the corner of the porch as always. Cordi was very tan and finally bulky with muscle and his hair had grown out, just a little, from that military buzz, and he barely detached himself from Emily the whole time, his arm always around her shoulders or hers around his waist, and when they did step apart his eyes followed her and she watched him right back, smiling at the most random times. Liam was fourteen and a little more aware of the world and he wondered abruptly if they'd had sex yet. Cordi had only been home one day and he'd slept at the ranch and not at Emily's apartment. How would they have found the time?

He was chewing his thumbnail over it when a sweaty weight crashed down on his shoulders, arms trapping his in. Hoyt. "Hey there, Stinker," Hoyt said, and Liam shrugged fretfully and said, "Don't call me that," and Hoyt laughed at him but stood up and ruffled Liam's hair completely backwards instead.

"Still pretty shrimpy," he said. He was grinning, like he had some big secret. "You planning on growing up anytime soon, champ?"

"Don't you have a sketchy job to get to?" Liam said, annoyed. He tried to fix his hair and gave it up as a lost cause the second Hoyt's grin got bigger. Asshole.

Hoyt sipped his beer. Twenty-one—he was allowed, although Liam had noticed that Mama was being a little free with handing out drinks to Emily's college friends. "Glad big bro's home, I bet," Hoyt said.

Liam didn't dignify that with a response. Hoyt laughed, under his breath, and held out the beer for Liam to take, which he did because he didn't know what else to do. "Go on," Hoyt said, nodding at it. "I won't tell your mama. Not fair that everyone else gets to celebrate while little Liam's sober. And boring."

"I'm not boring," Liam said, although he knew he was because half the kids at school clearly thought so. He took a sip of the beer, anyway, not knowing if Hoyt would snatch it away. Nasty, and he made a face that made Hoyt hoot, and then he took a bigger gulp, determined at least to get something out of it.

"There he goes," Hoyt said, weirdly delighted, and he clapped Liam on the shoulder the same way he would Cordi when they were in high school, and the bit of warm in Liam's belly went lower. "That's a welcome home."

Liam kept the beer, curled against his chest. He felt dumb holding it and also weirdly adult. "He's not even here," he said. Sort of scoffing. "Doesn't matter."

Hoyt curled his arm around Liam's shoulders again and ignored how he went stiff, and nodded out at the party. Music playing from a radio Daddy had set up on a truck-bed. Emily and Cordell, dancing in the firelight. Same as it would be for the wedding reception a year from then, although of course Liam didn't know that at the time. "Aw, he's here," Hoyt said. He squeezed Liam's shoulders. He smelled strange, like—skunk, and Mama's compost bin. It was gross but also kind of appealing and Liam shifted, hoping his dumb body wouldn't react. "He's just with his girl, and who could blame him. No call for getting jealous."

He wasn't jealous. Not—exactly. That night after Mama and Daddy went to bed the party kept on, and Liam went to his room and watched from the dark window, the bonfire still going and all the college kids still going, too. When he finally fell asleep he had a strange, blurry dream about Hoyt—building a bonfire together, and Hoyt smiling at him and being a jackass and then touching his face, the same way Cordell touched Emily's face, and then Hoyt touching his stomach, low—and then the dream shifted, the weird way dreams shift, and it was Cordell, touching his stomach, and smiling at him, and leaning in close—with his hair longer like it was before he enlisted—but wearing for some reason the dumb khaki shirt of his uniform—and then Cordell's hand—

When he woke up he was soaked and it was bright morning. He washed his underwear out in the sink, feeling like his head was screwed on to someone else's body, and then he hid the underwear in the hamper, and showered, and tried not to think about it. He had that dream or one like it on and off for years, until he finally lost his virginity to Michael in college and it went away. He never told his therapist about it, or Bret, or anyone. He could rationalize it but he couldn't ever acknowledge it out loud because of what it—felt like, to think about it. To make it real in a place that wasn't just his stupid, crazy, dreaming head.

He had the dream again the night before he came out to his parents. January 2nd, trying out his new year's resolution of honesty. He figured in a ruthless sort of way that if his parents kicked him out or hated him or tried to change him then at least he had early acceptance at UT for the fall and a full scholarship and it was just eight months where his life would be completely over.

Cordell was at home on the ranch and Liam figured that's what triggered it. A couple days of vacation, since he'd worked over Christmas, and he and Emily and baby Stella had stayed up for ringing in the new year, and everyone had taken turns kissing Stella's forehead when midnight struck. Liam had been allowed a glass of champagne, Mama not even fussing about it since it was a holiday and the house was full—so he had two glasses—and when he went to bed he could still hear Cordell laughing from the front room, telling Daddy some story about a bust on the highway, something about stolen Santa suits, something light.

He dreamed they were swimming, up at the lake, and Cordell was naked. Laughing, that same too-loud booming laugh, but just because he was happy and not like he was making fun. Being kind to Liam. Holding him from behind with his arms around Liam's chest, their legs slipping together in the water. Liam could imagine what it would be like for a man to do something to him, he'd seen porn by that point, and he'd seen Cordell naked too because of the vagaries of living in an old house without a lock on the bathroom door, but somehow there was still a disconnect in his head. He was turned on beyond belief but nothing—happened, just the vagueness of Cordell behind him. His big hands.

Mama took Emily and the baby in to town, that day, for shopping. Daddy said they'd just bought half of Macy's and Mama shushed him so Daddy was up at the barn, checking over the new foal. Liam sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and watched birds come to the new feeder Mama had got from Emily and he tried to rehearse it, in his head. What to say. He'd seen it in movies but it didn't feel possible to come out of his mouth.

Cordell sat by him, on the bench swing. "Since when do you drink coffee?" he said. Then, less casual: "Is that my mug?"

"Yes," Liam said, and didn't protest when Cordell took it out of his hands. He rubbed his palms on his jeans. He had a hard time talking to Cordi after he had one of those dreams and so it was a relief that most of the time Cordell wasn't around, that he was in town at the house he shared with his wife. With his wife, Liam reminded himself, as though that could help. Another thing to make Liam different. Wrestling instead of football, reading books instead of riding, and now—this, on top of everything.

"Whatever's going on," Cordell said. Liam blinked, came back to the world. The cold, and the swing barely rocking from how Cordi had set his boot on the porch and pushed, and Cordell looking at him very steadily. "You know you can tell me, right?"

Liam swallowed. "Even if it's—" Bad is what came to his mouth and he shook his head. He prayed about this, he resolved. It's not bad. "Weird?"

"If it weren't weird you probably wouldn't be being so weird about it," Cordi said, frank, and Liam shoved his shoulder. The dream dissipated just like that. How could he possibly be crushing on his brother when his brother is this much of a jerk. Cordell swayed, grinning, letting Liam push him even if Cordell outweighed him then by fifty pounds, but then he set his hand on the back of Liam's neck, more serious. "Whatever it is. We can figure it out."

Liam licked his lips, and nodded. He knew then that was going to tell Cordell the one secret, if not the whole of it, before they left the porch that morning, and Cordi would—back him up, with Mama and Daddy, even if he didn't get it. "Give me back the coffee," he said, and Cordell raised his eyebrows but passed it back, so Liam could take a gulp. The caffeine probably wouldn't help but maybe it wouldn't hurt, and it felt nice to hold the mug. "Promise you won't freak," Liam said then, even if he was—mostly, ninety percent, pretty sure—and Cordell said, immediately, "I promise," and Liam believed him. That was the thing, with Cordell, in those days. It was easy to believe him.

It's Mama who calls, when Emily dies. Liam's already in bed because he's got court in the morning and Bret shoves at his shoulder, says, "Oh my god answer it and then change your ringtone, I hate that song," and Liam's still fuzzy from sleep and doesn't quite process that there's no good reason Mama would be calling him after nine o'clock in Texas because she always thought that was bad manners, it had been drilled into him all his life, and he says, mumbly, still waking up, "Hey, Mama," and there's a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line before she says, Honey, I'm sorry, but I have real bad news.

He flies out the next day. Bret tries to dissuade him. "There's nothing you can do right now," he says, as though that's the point. JFK to Austin-Bergstrom is four and a half hours and he spends the whole time with his chest this weird achy knot. It doesn't feel real but it is. He texted Mama his flight plan and she says that Daddy will pick him up at the airport, and when he gets into the truck Daddy shakes his head and says, "Good to see you, son," but without any truth to it. Liam doesn't take it personally.

Cordell's not at the ranch when they get there but the kids are. "Hi, Uncle Liam," Stella says, remarkably clear, until he hugs her, and then she curls his hands into his shirt and cries silently, her shoulders shaking. August doesn't get up from the couch, sitting there with one arm crossed over his chest and the other over his mouth, and he looks—Liam's always shocked by it—so exactly like his mother. Stella's a copy of her grandmother, to the point that Mama set her prom picture side by side with Stella's first dance photo and the only real difference was the dress—but Auggie always took after Emily, from coloring to temperament to those long straight eyebrows, that mouth that curves up into a wide, easy smile. Not smiling now, and not for a while, and when Stella pulls away and wipes her eyes Liam sits down next to Auggie and sets his hand on the back of his neck and Auggie just folds over, quiet, like whatever was holding him up just isn't there anymore.

"Where is he?" Liam asks Mama, in the kitchen later. The sun's going down. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours.

Mama's eyes are red-rimmed. "Where do you think?" she says.

Liam takes the truck. Lady Bird Lake is officially closed at night but of course that makes no difference. He parks and walks, up to the lookout, and Cordell doesn't hear him coming. He's sitting on the steps to the gazebo, his elbows braced on his knees. The light hitting his hair. Long again. Liam doesn't know how he's always skirting regs and getting away with it, except of course Cordi gets away with everything. Golden child.

He regrets the thought as soon as he has it. "Cordi," he says, and Cordell looks up in complete surprise. Liam smiles at him, as much as he can, and comes and sits on the step. He tries to think of what to say and can't come up with anything.

"Aren't you in court tomorrow?" Cordell says, after they sit there for thirty seconds. His voice sounds thick and distant.

Liam shakes his head. "Today," he says, and Cordell nods and huffs and says, "Right," and then looks down at his hands again. They're twisted together, his thumb rubbing hard and repeatedly at the mount of his other palm. Liam reaches over and puts his hand over the knot of Cordell's fingers and Cordell's jaw flexes but he lets Liam do it. "I'm sorry," Liam says.

"Everyone is," Cordell says, halfway bitter. Liam squeezes his hands and Cordell makes a rough low noise, some sound Liam has never heard him make. "Jesus. They won't let me go in to work."

"Of course they won't," Liam says, and Cordell pulls his hands away, pushes them into his hair. "Cordi, they have to—they're going to be looking for who did it and it has to be by the books so it'll stick. They're not going to risk screwing it up."

"I just want to—" Cordell cuts himself off but Liam can imagine what goes there. He touches Cordell's back instead and the muscle flinches. Set to fly off the handle any second. Fight or flight, but Cordell never used to run from anything and Liam can't imagine he's going to start now.

He stands up. "Wrestle me," he says.

Cordell looks up. "What?"

Genuine surprise. At least it's not misery. "Come on," Liam says. "See if you can pin me." These jeans are nice, were a gift from Bret, but he'll sacrifice them. He holds out a hand and Cordell lets himself be pulled upright, and it's a shock like it always is when Liam's been too long away, how much taller Cordi still is. Liam always was the shrimp. He pushes Cordell's chest, lightly, and Cordell slaps his hands away. "Cordi," Liam says, coaxing, and pulls at Cordell's wrist. "Let me take your mind off it."

Stupid thing to say and he knows it as soon as he says it. Cordell gives him an ugly look and shoves him for real. "Take my mind off it?" he says, while Liam's staggering backwards. Liam sets his boots in the dirt and braces, and when Cordell pushes him again Liam grapples, and they are wrestling, then. It's sloppy, bad holds, both of them in too-slick boots for this ground. Liam manages to swing Cordell around and get his back on the ground but Cordi's always been stronger and shoves him off, and then they're just—flat-out scrambling, Liam's hand sinking into a patch of mud and both of them breathing hard, Cordell twisting out of his grip and getting an arm over his chest, tight, before Liam eels over and flips them—gets Cordell on his back on the dirt—his leg over Cordell's—and then Cordi drops his head back against the ground and taps out, panting.

"You been practicing?" Cordell says. His eyes are closed.

Liam sits up, says, "Class at my gym." Cordi nods and Liam gets off him, kneels next to him in the dirt. The gazebo's bright and the skyline's pretty, on the other side of the lake. Liam looks at that instead of at his brother, so he won't have to see the tears seeping down Cordell's temples, wetting his hair.

"It's not okay," Liam says. He sets a hand on Cordell's chest. At the DA's office in Manhattan he's comforted widows, widowers, orphans. Some of them seeking justice but most of them knowing it won't really be found. Cordell, he thinks, is one of the latter type, but Liam tries out the lines he's learned anyway. "It's not okay and it's not fair. I can't pretend I know what you're going through but I'm sorry." He swallows, his throat trying to close without his say-so. "Jesus. I'm so sorry, Cordi."

"Yeah," Cordell says, rough, and grips Liam's wrist. When Liam looks down Cordell's eyes are still closed. They stay there for a while, by the lake, long past when it's uncomfortable.

When they finally get up, Liam's knees creak like an old man's but Cordell doesn't make the joke he should. He leaves Cordell's truck and drives them both back into town, and gets drive-through Whataburger that Cordell picks at instead of eating, and says, "Do you want to go back to the ranch?" and isn't surprised when Cordell shakes his head, no. They get a hotel instead, two queens and a respectable mini-bar, and Liam calls Mama from next to the ice machine in the hall and says that he's got Cordell, and they're fine, and they'll be back in the morning. She clearly wants to object but doesn't know how and Liam hangs up before she can figure it out.

He gets back, with the ice. Cordell's sitting on the end of the bed watching the news like it's the Superbowl. "I was thinking about the funeral," Cordell says, when the door closes behind Liam. "I have to plan the funeral and I don't even have her body."

Liam sets the bucket on the bar and sits on the other bed. "We'll help," Liam says. Cordell's cheek sucks in on one side. "You don't have to do any of this alone."

"Yeah," Cordell says, remote, and Liam looks at him. Weird hollowness in his stomach and he realizes only after a second why: it's the first time, all his life, that he can remember Cordell lying to him.

The Rodeo Kings operation is supposed to be quick. Three months, is the estimate: to get in, to learn the operation, to get out. They need an agent who can be convincingly skilled as a traveling rider, who knows a ranch operation, who can act. There's a depressingly short list and one name at the top of it. Everyone thinks it's a bad idea except for Graves, and Cordell.

"It'll give me something to think about that's not this," Cordell says, when Liam's trying to talk him out of it. They're on the back patio of his and Emily's house in town. The kids are still staying out at the ranch. It's two weeks after the funeral and they haven't gone back to school. Cordell hasn't shaved in a few days and the sound as he scratches his jaw is loud. There's no music playing from the kitchen window, like there used to be. The plants out here are already dying. Liam wants to grip Cordell's shoulders, get in his face and yell, but doesn't dare to. He gets a deep sigh, instead, and Cordell flipping a poker chip between his fingers like a restless card shark, and then a smile, fake as fake. "Anyway, who do you know who can ride a bull better than me?"

"No one," Liam says, and Cordell nods, like damn straight, and in the morning Liam goes in to the Travis County DA and announces he'd like to transfer offices, due to a family emergency that's going to keep him here in Texas, and it's only afterward when some calls are made and the paperwork's signed that he calls Bret, back in Manhattan, and leaves a voicemail that he's going to be staying a lot longer than he thought.

It isn't three months. As the operation drags on, Liam sweet-talks his way into being one of the assistant attorneys on the case and he tries to alleviate how Graves is getting more and more suspicious. Cordell's old partner James gets promoted to captain, six months in, and he vouches for Cordell, too, not that it seems to matter either way. Cordell's the one who's embedded with the rodeo and he'll either finish the job or he won't. They don't have another agent to send in, not without compromising the work that's been done so far, and nothing else will do but to wait.

The kids ask Liam for updates every week when he comes for dinner at the ranch. "I can't tell you everything," he says, like he does every time, and Daddy's quiet at the head of the table, and Mama quieter on the opposite side. Cordell has a rendezvous every Monday when the rodeo takes the day off with a burner cell phone and an agent waiting impatiently for his call, and his reports are terse: still trying to get them to trust me. They're suspicious of newcomers. The ring seems really tight and I can't figure out an opening. Give me time. He's allowed to call Liam the same day and Liam answers every unknown number on Mondays, giving hope to spam callers nationwide. Cordell usually sounds tired but he still calls and they have a dumb, simple conversation—about how the Rangers beat the Angels, how he's breaking in some new boots and has a blister the size of Indiana, how he's craving, inexplicably, sushi. "Sushi?" Liam asks, trying to imagine when Cordell ever tried it, and Cordi says, with rare humor, "Hey, I'm not a big fancy New York lawyer but I've had my share of raw fish," and when Liam hands the phone over to the kids they lean over the speakerphone and talk over the top of each other about a class project Stella did, and a history paper Auggie got an A+ on, and Liam watches with his hand over his mouth for the moment when Cordell has to interrupt and say, tired-sounding still, "Sorry, guys, I have to go," and the goodbyes have to be quick, and then that's it, for another week.

The first time Liam sees him when he's Duke it's a shock to the system. Seven months in and the reporting agent says that Walker missed his check-in. Walker—that's what they all call him, even when Liam's in the room with them. There's a small frenzy in the operation office. Graves calls for Cordell's head, predictably at this point. James, trying again to calm her down, but looking a little like he agrees. Liam leaves the office unnoticed and walks outside to feel cold air on his face and feel less—how he feels—and there's a text, on his phone, from an unknown number. The Alibi, Driskill ST, thirty minutes. Come alone.

Ridiculously illicit. Liam takes off his suit-jacket and tie and ruffles his hair into something unprofessional and goes. It's hard to park—Monday night football—and inside is the opposite of his scene but he finds a seat at the bar. A girl in a too-tight orange t-shirt gives him a once-over and he smiles tightly, ignores her, drinks a watery beer, and almost exactly on the thirty-minute mark someone sits down next to him and it's—not his brother.

Duke Culpepper was the fake name they picked. Originally from Texas but had some misdemeanors that made Texas unfriendly so he'd been hiding out in Tucson for a few years, working the rodeo there. Not dangerous but willing to get up to something that was, and he looks the part. He smells like sweat and horse manure and hay and some shitty, awful aftershave, and there's a bruise on his jaw like someone suckerpunched him, and he doesn't look at Liam but smiles sweet at the bartender and says, with a fake low drawl, "Darlin', I wouldn't mind a shot of bourbon, when you have a chance."

Jesus, Liam thinks. The bartender has an expression like Cordell slid a hand down the front of her jeans and made her the happiest woman alive—the shot takes about ten seconds to arrive, when Liam's been waiting for a second beer for five minutes. Cordell knocks it back in one motion and says, "Again, and—" and he turns, like he noticed Liam for the first time, "another round for my friend, here. We're celebratin'."

She blinks, notices Liam's empty glass. While the next round's being prepared Liam raises his eyebrows and plays his part. "What are we celebrating?"

"Got a new job," Cordell says—but no—it's Duke, who's saying it, Duke who's drawling lazy and has his hat cocked at an off-angle and who's got a bandana tied around his wrist which for some goddamn reason is working the whole, hot-ass look.

"Congrats," the bartender says, and Duke grins wide and winks at her and downs the second shot, letting out a little whoop. "Another?"

"Better make it a double this time, sweetheart," Duke says, and Liam puts his hand on the warm lean stretch of thigh knocking against his under the bar and squeezes, very lightly, a warning, and sees Cordell's eyes tighten just slightly, and sees how his shoulders round out, like he's ready to get in a fight. Cordell takes a deep breath and toasts the bartender, but turns to look at Liam, face a grinning glad mask. "Got a new girl, too. Real pretty."

The bartender's disappointment would be funny, any other time. "Your lucky day, then, huh?" Liam says. Cordell's knee presses hard into his under the bar. "Girl got a name?"

"Miss Twyla Jean," Cordell says, almost crooning it, and Liam raises his eyebrows—he thought they had embarrassing Texas names—and then Cordell downs the double-shot, grimacing at the sting, and then says, much quieter so that only Liam can hear: "All it took was me making it eleven seconds on a bull and she took me straight to bed."

Liam takes a deep breath. Cordell's jaw flexes, in the silence, and he puts the empty shot glass on the bar. "Thanks for celebrating with me," he says, and slides off the barstool, backwards. He grips Liam's shoulder so hard that it actually hurts. "Gotta get back. Job won't do itself."

"Godspeed," Liam says, toasting with his beer, and Cordell gives him a tight smile and tugs his cap and walks out of the bar, taking with him the smell of the stables and his too-tight jeans and this sensation under Liam's gut that's murky and dangerous, unsettled. His shoulder hurts. It's only after he's written down Twyla Jean's name and texted it to James, and gone home to the apartment where Bret's still bitching about the décor, and taken a shower, and pressed his forehead against the cold tile, that he realizes that Cordell was wearing a fucking Texas Rangers cap. The absolute bastard.

The night he hears from Cordell again he has a fight with Bret. The same fight, worked over the same way. Bret hates Texas. He hates being away from his friends. He hates the politics and the food and how Liam's always with his family. He doesn't want to go to family dinner at the ranch because he's sure Liam's dad hates him. "He doesn't hate you," Liam says, for the fifth time, but to be honest he's not sure. Daddy never seems to like Bret that much, either. Cordi's never met him and Liam wonders, like he's wondered many times, if they'd get along, at all. Wonders if that'd be a dealbreaker and then wonders, washing dishes while Bret watches MSNBC in chilly silence, if the fact that he's wondering if it would be a dealbreaker makes it a dealbreaker, after all.

The text comes as a relief. Annunziata's. He dresses down more carefully than the first time. It's a weird spot, on the outskirts of town where it feels less like Austin than like a suburb. Karaoke and Italian food and mostly-fake cowboys slapping their knees to the absolutely horrific song being sung—very suburb. And there, at a table right by what passes for a stage: Cordell. But, no: Duke, Duke Culpepper, with his arm slung around the shoulders of Twyla Jean and his lips on her ear, grinning, wild. It catches Liam's breath like it did the first time. Duke, confident in his body and happy and having a good time, easy. Hot. Jesus, Liam doesn't get how it's so hot.

He waits in the backroom and watches Cordell shoves his face into the water. It's disturbing how panicked he is, once he's Cordell again and not Duke. "You have to," he's saying—babbling—"You have to tell them, they're going to kill people, you can't let them go through with it—" but of course that's not either of their decision and Liam can't help. It's awful, an awful awful feeling. His big brother looking to him for an answer he can't give. Cordell pushes his hair back from his face and puts his hat back on and looks miserable but he goes back, he sits right back down with that girl and lets her slide her hand down his thigh up the inseam of his jeans and Liam watches from the corner of the bar, where he won't be seen, drinking a beer he doesn't want, seeing his brother be someone who's not his brother. Maybe someone his brother could have been. They're going to sleep together, tonight. Liam knows it. They've been fucking for three months. Is it easy, he wonders. It shouldn't be, for Cordell, but maybe for Duke it is.

He goes home to Bret and wakes him up, and apologizes for the earlier fight, and kisses him, and gets Bret on his belly, and fucks him that way, a little hard, kissing the back of his neck, making Bret gasp and flinch and groan, delighted. "Where did that come from," Bret says, lazy and satisfied, and when he falls asleep Liam takes a shower and then only then calls James, from the hall outside their apartment door, leaning with his forehead against the wall. The bank location has been obvious since Cordell reported about Twyla Jean; the only thing that wasn't certain was the time. It'll be fine, James says, firm, and hangs up on Liam to coordinate with the rest of the team now that Agent Walker has finally come back in from the cold, and Liam stands there with his eyes closed in the hall and thinks, yes. Yes, it'll be fine.

After the bank—after the clean-up—Graves debriefs Cordell for a long time. It borders on unlawful interrogation at a certain point but Liam doesn't dare intervene when she's this furious—he can't risk being taken off the case. It takes James making a call to her supervisor at the field office, who then calls her and pulls her out of the room, for Cordell to be given a reprieve, and Liam goes in to the conference room and finds Cordell still in the stupid black hoodie stained with Crystal West's blood, his head in his hands, breathing with his mouth open like he can't get enough air.

"Cordi," Liam says, and Cordell shakes his head. Liam licks his lips and checks the hall. No one's guarding them—they wouldn't, because Walker's one of their own—and he says, "Get up." Cordell looks up at him, finally. "Come on, quick before she gets back. Come with me."

Cordell follows him. Down the hall, left to go through the atrium instead of the bullpen, then through the glass doors to the hall to, at last, the men's room, and Cordell stands in the middle of the tile blinking until Liam nods at the sinks and says, "Do it."

He's sloppier about it, this time. His hair hangs dripping in front of his face. He pushes it off his forehead and looks up at himself, in the mirror, panting a little. Water drips off his nose.

Liam brings him paper towels and he dries his face. "You should take that off," Liam says, and Cordell looks down at his clothes like he has no idea what he's wearing and only just realized, and tears off the hoodie in an awkward tangle. Underneath his t-shirt is black so Liam can't tell if it's stained. The big silver cross swings from his neck.

"What happened," Cordell says. A croak.

"Graves didn't tell you?" Liam says, and then bites his tongue. Obviously not. "Clint and Crystal are both dead. Clint at the bank. Crystal crashed the car. They think she passed out. Blood loss." Cordell nods, tight, looking away. These are his friends, Liam reminds himself. These are the people he knew, the only people he really talked to, for almost a year. "Two more people died at the bank. Twyla wasn't there and we don't have information to tie her to the job. I don't know where Jaxon is but we have people looking. They're still trying to recover the stolen money."

"Graves did tell me that much," Cordell says, and turns around, leaning his ass against the sink. It's slowly draining, behind him. "I think she wants to arrest me since she can't arrest them."

"I think so, too," Liam says, and Cordell smiles a little. He looks like he hasn't slept all year. "You did your job. It's over."

"It's not over," Cordell says, immediately. He drags his hand through his hair. "Graves made that clear. The money's still missing and Twyla and Jax are in the wind."

"And Duke's being sent to jail," Liam says. "So his part in the Rodeo Kings gang is over."

Cordell wipes his fingers over his mouth. He's still wearing that bandana around his wrist. Liam wants to take it off of him. Throw it away, burn it. "Duke Culpepper, common criminal," Cordell says, drawling it a little.

"Never liked him anyway," Liam says, and Cordell smiles, dropping his head. Liam touches his shoulder, grips his neck. "Hey. Means you get to come home. The kids will be over the moon."

"Yeah," Cordell says. He brackets a loose hand around Liam's wrist and nods. "Yeah. Can't wait."

His smile faded, as soon as Liam said it. Liam thinks about that, for that whole night, and for the whole next day, after, when James tells him that Cordell put in for one week's leave. "You talked to him?" Liam says, and James shakes his head, says, "He called Connie. I think he still doesn't even know I'm the captain."

He tells Mama and Daddy that Cordell will be home next Wednesday. Stella's frowning, not eating her dinner. "I saw that bank robbery on the news," she says. Auggie's big-eyed, watching, next to her. "Was that Dad's big case?"

"It was," Liam says, and Auggie's eyes get bigger. "But there's a debriefing period. We need to make sure his undercover identity doesn't have any loose ends that'll tie him back to his real one."

Daddy's eyes narrow and Mama's quiet. Liam got pretty good at lying, over the years, but he never was quite able to fool them.

He calls Cordell the next day. "Tell me where you are," he says, and Cordell doesn't answer for a long moment, letting the silence stretch out over the cell line. Liam considers it a victory that he even answered the phone.

He has a room at the Fairmont, on the fifteenth floor. Liam knocks and it's a minute before the door opens. Cordell's in bare feet, jeans, an ACL t-shirt. Liam follows him in and the room is—nicer than Liam's current apartment, that's for sure. King bed, outstanding view. "Wow," Liam says, and Cordell says, "Better than the Super 8 in Kermit," sort of sarcastic, and then sits down on the bed like he can't stand up anymore.

Liam doesn't sit. He doesn't think he's really invited, even if Cordell let him in the door. "I told them next Wednesday," he said. "Mom and Dad, and the kids. A week. Do you think that'll be enough time?"

"Honestly?" Cordell says, and doesn't elaborate.

There's a table, with four chairs, like a dining area. On it a box, like one of the evidence boxes from the office. Liam walks over and tips back the lid and: there's Duke Culpepper. The striped shirt he wore when Liam met him at Annunziata's. That was—god, only three days ago. A plastic bottle of aftershave. The cross necklace. The gun. Liam picks it up and checks the revolving chamber—that one bullet, still ready. It makes him nauseous just like it did the first time.

"I know you're probably not okay," Liam says. Understatement, he thinks, of the century. He closes the box and pushes it away, toward the center of the table. When he turns around Cordell's holding the beer in one hand and playing with a poker chip, in the other. "I know you're going to need some time. But when you're done, we need you back. The kids, and Mom and Dad. And me."

"C'mon, you don't need anybody, Stinker," Cordell says, with the barest thread of levity. "You climb right up to the top of the barn all by yourself, when no one's around to stop you."

Liam pauses, confused by the subject change. Surprised, then. "You were there for that?" he says, and Cordell shrugs, one corner of his mouth lifting.

When Liam was eleven, and Cordell was at college, and the world hadn't yet turned over on its head. It was early August and his school hadn't started, and Daddy and Mama had gone over to the feed store to pick up a truckload for the horses. He was bored, and tired of reading, and he'd gone out to the barn and looked up at it and thought about how Cordell had done it, at his age or maybe even younger, and if Cordell could then Liam could, too, if he set his mind to it. It wasn't even all that hard, once he was looking careful for the places to set his feet. He sat down on the top of the barn and looked out over the ranch—and further, over the where the road into the ranch pushed out into the hills, down toward the town. He wondered how far he could really see, to the horizon.

"Swung by to pick up my football stuff," Cordell says, now. "Em parked on the other side of the house and I didn't think anyone was home, until I looked out the back. You were up there just—taller than anything." He shrugs. "See? Didn't need my help after all."

"I wouldn't have climbed it if you hadn't dropped me on my head," Liam says, and Cordell snorts, shakes his head. Liam bites the inside of his cheek and crouches, and Cordell's forced to look at him or be ridiculous and so Cordell looks at him. Liam reaches out and gets his hand, the hand with the poker chip, and squeezes it, and Cordell swallows and squeezes back. The edges of the plastic bite into Liam's hand. "Come back," he says.

Cordell takes a deep breath. "I will," he says. "I promise, Liam."

Liam stands up and hugs him, around the shoulders, and walks out of the room. He takes the elevator back to the lobby and steps out into the sunshine, and takes a deep breath, and calls Bret to arrange lunch. Cordell's promises. Fifty-fifty, anymore, that it ends up being true. Liam decides to believe him. He's hardheaded. He might as well be hardheaded and optimistic about it.

#ffcc #walker #walker texas ranger #walker fic #my writing #if anyone ever needed an in-depth character study of liam #...here it is

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nomattertheoceans · 4 years ago

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GIF REQUEST MEME: Favorite season from The 100 - Season four

I love season four for a lot of reasons!! I think it’s the best season of the show and it should have been their last (despite my love for most of s5 ^^) I’m gonna ramble a lot but I don’t want it to take over the gifset so I’ll put it under a cut

Season four is the time of hard, impossible choices for everybody. The bomb at Farm Station, the List, the Nightblood tests, opening the bunker, the anti-radiation medicine…. Everybody is put through the ringer during this season and honestly, this is what I’m here for.

First great point for me personally: They can’t stop the radiations. When season 3 ended with the reveal of the radiations coming, I was legit disappointed with the show, I didn’t want them to spend the season “turning off” radiations miraculously, you know. So when ep 2 of the season aired and the first thing Raven said was “there’s no magic button to stop this” I WAS SO HAPPY!! It immediately got me much more hyped for the rest of the season because I was invested in “riding out 5 years of hell” much more than “let’s find a magic button”. So the season hooked me then ^^

The season is really good at re-using previous themes and twist them in just the right way

Clarke, who was so angry at the council for killing her dad, finds herself in the council’s position, and starts to understand that making such hard decisions is never easy. Making the list for instance, is so different from what she had to do before. The genocide of Mt Weather was an act of despair in the middle of a war, but making the list is a process, she has to truly chose who is “worth” more, which is what the council did when they sent the 100 to the Ground. She choses to hide the truth from everybody despite it going against what she wanted at the start of the show. It’s a really cool change for her character.

The Arkers and Grounders take the decision to test the Nightblood against Luna, the Rock Line thief, and Emori’s will. An obvious reminder of s2 but that I appreciate. I liked the Mt Weather story because of this: the mountain men were the antagonists but they also were the same as the rest of the show, they were doing whatever they had to do to survive, whatever it took, no matter how cruel it could be. We see in this season that when faced with the same decision, our protagonists reach the same result: sacrificing other people’s bodily autonomy to survive is worth it to them. It’s a really interesting theme to bring back because it muddies the waters of who’s right and wrong, and it highlights that in the end, there is no black and white answer.

This season gives us my personal favorite version of Clarke: she’s the closest she’ll get to a true antagonist (only comparable to s5 but s5 is a little bit of a mess so I still prefer her in s4). She has one conviction: saving her people. And to get it, she is ready to lie, to cheat, to kill, whatever it takes. It is interesting because I always saw Clarke in that light. She always believes that she has the right idea and she will do what it takes to get what she thinks is best. That’s where she is interesting to me (I’m not interested in her being an innocent victim forced to take decisions, that’s not how I see her at all and I find her a little dull in that interpretation haha but that’s for another post). Clarke stealing the bunker is a cruel act, but man, it’s incredibly smart. At that moment she knows she’s condeming many people (some of whom very close to her) to death, but she believes deep inside her that it’s the right thing to do so she’s willing to do it. And i really prefer her in those ruthless moments.

Octavia’s arc this season isn’t my favorite, but she is at her best during the last few episodes for me. The creation of Wonkru is one of my favorite scenes of the entire show, even though I saw it coming a mile away lmao (1200 spaces, 12 clans, it was easy to see where they were going!). I love the scene, I love the place it comes from (Octavia channeling Lincoln’s convictions was brilliant). I might not agree with her decisions (skaikru definitely deserved more spots than the other clans), but it makes perfect sense for her character to make this decision. The scene of her talking to Skaikru and telling them they’re no different from the others, and they have to choose or they all die, is also one of my favorites. Octavia received no mercy on the Ark, she had a terribly tragic childhood because of those people who are now begging her for their lives, and she doesn’t budge. The Ark, and the Ground, forced her to be that way, and she doesn’t back away. It’s also all a brilliant introduction to what Wonkru and Octavia will become in s5 (but again, that’s for another post lmao)

I love that we get the introduction of Spacekru because I love their little found family and the scene where they reach the Ring is so good!

Murphy’s speech to Clarke makes me tear up everytime I see it (it really was one of the strongest moments of acting of the entire show, Richard Harmon is amazing in it). Emori also blows me away in the previous episode, the way she’s shown to be ruthless, and cunning, and also how well she reads people. She knew they would come to test someone, and she did everything she had to for that someone to not be her. I love her ^^

I like the plot of the second dawn bunker well enough! (although I will never change my mind that Cadogan was a dumbass for putting it where it is instead of IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST WHERE THERE’S NO RISK OF BUILDINGS FALLING ON IT LIKE WHAT LITERALLY HAPPENED IN S5 OKAY anyway…..), it’s far from perfect but I like that it explains the people coming to greet Becca in s3, and I like that we expand a little on the origins of the Grounders culture (even though I wanted more about this). It’s kind of an “easy” solution, but at the same time it’s not. It was established early in the season before being abandoned, and even once it’s found, it’s not at all a perfect and easy solution. They have to fight for it, decide who lives there, it’s a pretty interesting development. What I mean is that it’s not discovered one episode before the end and it doesn’t solve everything. If anything, it creates more conflict. Which I appreciate alot.

ALSO ALSO Echo is a badass general in this season and I love it. She goes from being a spy in earlier seasons, to full-on commanding armies and being a strategic mastermind and I love it! She’s also ruthless and cunning and I lvoe that for her. It’s also such a good season for her and Bellamy!!! I lvoe all of it ^^

This season also has one of my favorite underrated quotes!!!! I’m gonna use a gif here cause I’m not at the limit yet lmao

“It’s unity day.” GODDDD it’s so good. It’s simple, but it conveys so much information and I love it:

Unity Day: the stations coming together to survive -> we’re virtually in the same situation here.

It’s a happy occasion, a day of survival and hope, just like the hope Octavia gave all the clans with her decisions

But it’s also a day of death and loss. She’s giving Kane a choice: join Wonkru with 100 members, or die in the flames.

It reminds us of the history of the Arkers, and I love when world-building does this thing where both characters are shown to have such a close cultural background that three little words are enough to convey such a strong message. It’s a detail but I love it and I wanted to ramble for a little bit ^^

Clarke’s sacrifice: This is when it gets to “meh” points for the seasons for me. Clarke deciding to stay behind to save Spacekru was a good moment. Yes, I know that if she hadn’t climbed the tower they all would have died anyway, but still. It’s a great moment for her character. She has hurt those people time and time again during this season, she was ready to let them die more than once, and I think she regrets it (although again, I like to see the extremes she’s willing to reach in this season). In that moment, she doesn’t decide that it’s too late to survive so she might as well give up. She knows she’s going to die, and she gives her last moments to save the lives of the people she hurt in the past. And I really love this. That is….. Until Clarke is revealed to not have died. I truly believe that she had reached the ending of her arc in the show, and it would have been a great ending to her character. But that’s also because I believe the show should have ended in s4 lmao. If it had ended, then maybe they could have left her death ambiguois, by showing her reaching the safety of the lab, but not showing her again afterwards. That way, we had no way of being sure she survived, but it was left ambiguous enough to make us decide her fate outselves.

The perfect ending: I didn’t choose the last gif randomly. That scene of Raven and Bellamy looking down on the Earth was in my opinion the perfect shot to end the show. At that point in time, we are left in a place that is very similar to where the show started: the Earth is destroyed by radiations, some people are waiting it out in space, some people are waiting it out on the ground. it mirrors the premise of the show (although in a much smaller scale), but this time, we’re left with hope of what might come in the future. Those two groups know (or hope) that they will reunite, especially with Octavia and Bellamy, the relationship at the core of the show, being separated. If the show ends here, we have come full circle from the pilot episode, and we can imagine how those two groups will reunite in the future. I find that ending the best possible for the show, so even though there’s so much I like about season 5, I wish the show had stopped at that moment, at that shot of Raven and Bellamy looking down on the Earth.

That got reaaaaally long, so…. sorry about that xD If you’ve reached this far, feel free to tell me what you think of this season (or the others haha) or send me asks, or request for other gifsets!!!

#the 100 #the100edit #my gifs #I will have you know that I did NOT edit this text lmao

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starspatter · 3 years ago

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Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 18

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,465 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

Also on ff.net and AO3.

That boy take me away into the night Out of the hum of the street lights and into a forest I'll do whatever you say to me in the dark Scared I'll be torn apart by a wolf in mask Of a familiar name on a birthday card

-Daughter, “Candles”

————————–

Back then.

“Stop, thief!”

Tim dashed down the street as fast as he could from the trucker chasing after him on foot, limbs laden with two loaves he had “procured” from the back of the parked vehicle.

Shouldn’t have left it wide open like that if you didn’t want your goods to be taken, dumbass. You’re close to Crime Alley, remember?

“Punk, don’t make me call the cops on you!”

All this for a loaf of bread? You’ve got like, a hundred. Give me a break.

Tim tsked as he darted down a narrow passage, quickly clambering over a chain link fence with his hot pursuer still close behind. He kept trying to shake the guy off his tail – to no avail – by ducking under a wooden plank that blocked the way, dodging around cardboard boxes and trash cans, until he came to a much taller barricade he couldn’t vault in one go.

“Ha! I’ve got you now!”

The hunter sneered at his cornered quarry as he encroached. Spying a couple crates stacked nearby, Tim hopped on top and leapt for an overhanging ladder, swinging himself onto the fire escape instead. He hastily elevated the access before the other could follow, and the man growled up at him, quivering his fist.

“Why you little- when I get my hands on you…”

“Pff. In your dreams.”

Tim grinned as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his trump card: a Batarang he had uncovered after witnessing one of Batman’s and Robin’s totally awesome fights with Joker, right within view of his own neighborhood. Taking aim at a clothesline, he flung the projectile with precision, disengaging the pulley off its hook. This resulted in the linens enveloping around the aggressor as he attempted to hoist himself up, tying in a neat suspended bundle – much like Batman’s prey often were post-thrashing in order to present to the police.

Wow, that actually worked. Sweet.

He’d have to remember that trick for later, Tim thought as he caught the rebounding weapon and spun it smoothly around his pointer like a smoking gun, before stowing it away again. Jumping down on the other side of the hurdle, he swerved and stuck out his tongue at the struggling captive to add insult to injury.

“Get back here, you brat! You won’t get away with this!”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I’d love to stay and hang around, but I’ve got better things to do. So long, sucker.”

He took off with a snicker, sprinting far out of sight. Once he had put a safe distance between them, he slowed down and took stock of both surroundings and inventory. All troops and rations accounted for. Before tucking in though, he figured he’d probably need something to wash it down with. …And he knew just the place to look.

Sneakily entering one of the apartment buildings, he crept with caution through the corridors until he came before a doorway with a milk bottle conveniently located at its base, glass gleaming in invitation. Score.

As he stealthily bent down to pick it up, he cast a swift glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching – and failed to notice the entry itself spring open, smacking him square in the jaw and knocking him onto his bum, losing hold on the buns as well.

“Ow!”

He rubbed his chin as he sat up and glared at the golden-haired girl standing before him in the center of the frame, who returned the irate expression as she took in the image of delivered dairy still gripped in his other hand.

“So you’re the one who’s been stealing all our milk.”

She hissed, eyes narrowing. Tim swallowed, cursing his luck to be caught in the act yet again.

Crap.

He was about to make a run for it, but she abruptly tackled him as soon as he showed signs of fleeing, pinning to the floor with all of her weight.

“Oh no you don’t!”

“Hey! Get off of me!”

They fought and scuffled in the middle of the hall for a minute, and in the commotion he managed to roll over and gain the upper hand. She instinctively grabbed one of the lumps lying nearby though and whacked him with it, striking the sore spot on his cheek. Soft as the plastic package’s contents were, the momentum behind it succeeded in packing enough punch to stun him temporarily. Kicking him off, she continued to beat on him mercilessly with the bread, which was more of an annoyance than anything, but still prevented him from making an escape. Grimacing, Tim debated briefly for a moment using the bottle for defense, but balked at the dangerous idea. She was a girl after all, and he didn’t want to cause her any actual damage. So instead he seized the other spongy wrapper and endeavored to use it as a shield.

“Oi, will you quit it?! And give that back, it’s mine.”

He made a snatch for the dough, but she extended it far out of his reach.

“Right. I bet it is,” she rolled her irises. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you stealing is wrong?”

“My mom’s dead,” he snapped.

She paused at that, a slight flicker of sympathy tracing her face.

“…Oh. Sorry.”

Tim scowled, now really not wanting to deal with this situation anymore.

“Whatever. Now give me back my lunch.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re just having bread for lunch?”

“Yeah. So? What’s it to you?”

She stared at him for a long second, during which Tim felt hunger pangs crawling up his esophagus. Although he strove to force them back down, he couldn’t help it as his stomach rumbled faintly, making him flush in embarrassment. She frowned, before sighing and reaching out to clasp his wrist.

“Come on.”

He blinked nervously as she firmly dragged him inside the unit, towards the kitchen, where she put the somewhat squashed bread on the counter and opened the refrigerator, beginning to retrieve ingredients.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What’s it look like?” she replied as she removed a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet shelf. “I’m making a sandwich.”

Tim shot a dirty look in indignation.

“I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity,” she importunately insisted. “Consider it you owing me a favor. …Or would you rather I just turn you over to the cops?”

Tim grit his teeth, but said nothing as she set to work preparing two plates of towering spreads. As she layered on thick slices of meat and vegetables, she stated:

“I’ve seen you around before. …You took down two teenagers who were bullying a kid for his lunch money the other day. That was really brave of you.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unused to being complimented. He certainly wasn’t expecting that as a conversation starter. He hadn’t even been aware of a spectator at that time, and the knowledge made him strangely self-conscious of his actions.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, one of those dudes had a knife. You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

Tim shrugged.

“I couldn’t just let them keep picking on the poor kid. He didn’t deserve it. Someone had to stand up for him.”

“…And yet you steal food from others.”

Tim’s knuckles clenched at being confronted with his own hypocrisy.

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“Look, it’s not like I do it because I want to,” he retorted sharply. “Some of us have to take in order to survive.”

“Hm.”

Thankfully, she didn’t press the subject further, although from the way she hesitantly handled the topping pieces, her opinion on their illicit source – and willfully being made accomplice to said shoplifter – was abundantly clear. Nevertheless, she situated the baked bookends and set the final products on the table, swelling with pride at having apparently outdone herself. Though Tim’s eyes swapped suspiciously between his share and the chef across from him, he took a seat and lifted the sizeable portion to his lips – doubtfully inspecting for any evidence of poison – before delicately taking a bite.

A delicious blend of flavors flooded his buds, and without further delay he began eagerly devouring the meal – the first real good meal he’d had in days. Girl could make a killer sandwich, he’ll definitely give her that.

She observed his animalistic appetite (not to mention manners) as she quietly chewed over her own fare, taking a sip of milk before questioning curiously:

“So what’s your name anyway?”

Tim wavered, buying time to think by chugging his own drink to slosh down several mouthfuls, before responding finally:

“Alvin Draper.”

She wrinkled her nose in disbelief.

“Oh come on. That’s not your real name.”

Tim winced. Okay, maybe that had been a bit of a stretch. Hurriedly seeking an alternative title from the environment (as he would one day do with another lost lass when she couldn’t remember hers), his tune promptly changed as his gaze fell upon the groceries: absorbing the “Wunder” brand logo on the bag of burgled bread, and the green mascot on the condiment carton beside it.

“...Fine. It’s ‘Peter’.”

She folded her arms in frustration.

“Now you’re just messing with me,” she sniffed, seeing easily through the sudden flash of (admittedly pretty obvious) inspiration. “You got that off the peanut butter jar.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Prove it.”

Tim respired, growing irritated by incessant inquiry.

“Look, who cares about a name? All you need to know about me is that I’m awesome.”

He puffed up his chest, jabbing an arrogant thumb at his breast.

“…You know you’ve got a milk mustache, Mr. Awesome.”

Tim sheepishly wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

“You’ve got one too,” he grumbled.

She mimicked the gesture, giggling mildly. It was a nice, comforting sound. He hadn’t heard anyone really laugh like that since… Mom…

“So…” He cleared his throat. “Where are your folks at?”

Although he’d mostly wondered out of wary self-preservation, her face unexpectedly fell a little at the query. She picked idly at the remaining rye, peeling off crust and rolling them into mini-balls of crumbs.

“Dad took my mom on a trip to ‘Arizona’. I’m staying with my uncle at the moment. …Although he’s probably out working a ‘job’ right now.”

A ‘job’. The way she said it, he understood instantly what she meant, and could empathize all too well.

“That’s rough.”

Her visage grew grimmer, as she drew a deep breath.

“Not really. It’s better when he’s not here.”

Tim looked down at the leftover specks in his own dish, not really getting the message.

“At least you’ve got someone to look after you. My dad never really bothered with babysitters. He says a man should be able to take care of himself.”

That wasn’t entirely true. When he was younger, his father used to have one of his friends – a thug who went by the name “Dagger” Dixon – watch over him for a few short periods. Despite his daunting reputation (hence the nickname), Tim liked Dagger. Guy was dumb as a post, but he was the only one of Dad’s associates who was ever nice to him. Even taught him some neat con- coin tricks. More than that, he treated Tim like a grownup, always listened to what he had to say. …Except when it came to Batman. Whenever Tim expressed his desire to be like his idol someday, he’d scoff openly like the others.

“Don’t try to be a hero, kid. Your old man and I – we’re crooks. It’s what we do, and what you’ll do someday too. Our kind don’t got no choice.”

Later, he himself got beat up and sent to jail by the Dark Knight, so that left Tim without any substitute supervision since then. …Not that it made much of a difference.

Meanwhile, his companion shook her head.

“It’s not like that. My uncle’s… weird. Sometimes he’ll say and do odd things, and it…” she clutched her arms, looking exceedingly conflicted and confused, “…makes me feel really… uncomfortable.”

Tim studied her hunched form, unsure what to say. He didn’t fully comprehend what she was talking about, and something in him was scared to probe further. Tentatively, he tried to switch the topic instead.

“…Hey, you want to see something cool? Check this out.”

He fished out the Batarang and unfolded it with a flair, displaying smugly. Her eyes widened in marvel.

“Wow. Where’d you get that?”

“Found it on a rooftop after Batman and Robin defeated Joker on the next building. There was a big explosion and it got sent all the way over with the debris. I saw the whole thing go down too, with these babies.”

He flashed a pair of miniature spy binoculars as well, commercially bat-branded of course. He had all sorts of merchandise back home –at least as much as his meager allowance could afford (he always purchased caped crusader commodities with his own cash, whatever pennies he could scrape together and save from begging or performing odd jobs) – although none of them could compare with the authenticity of his most precious possession.

“Sure you’re not just pulling my leg?” she tested skeptically. “Admit it, that’s just some toy you bought. …Or stole,” she added with a teasing jab.

“Trust me, it’s the real deal. Here, I’ll show you; want me to give it a spin? Just pick a target.”

“All right.” She got up and walked over to the couch, nabbing one of the empty beer bottles littered around it. Crossing over to the window, she opened the pane and set the bottle on the sill. “Try to hit this outside.”

Tim smirked as he trained on the mark.

“Better step aside, miss.”

She did as directed, and he let the star sail, landing an exact bullseye. The container tipped over the edge as the shot simultaneously rebounded back, fallen flask presumably shattering with a loud crash on the pavement below. This was followed by an angry holler:

“Hey! Who the hell’s throwing glass up there?!”

Oh shit. Hoping they hadn’t hurt anyone, both rushed over to the opening in panic and fearfully poked their heads out, surveying the ground where a cranky old geezer was waving his cane in rage up at them, fortunately appearing unharmed at least.

“You goddamn hooligans! Watch where you’re tossing shit! Don’t make me come up there and beat the both of you with my stick!”

“Sorry, mister!”

The duo sincerely apologized before retreating back into the room, hiding shamefully behind the wall as they squatted with their backs to it. …After an appropriately contrite interval has passed though, Tim couldn’t contain his humor anymore.

“Oh my God, did you see the look on his face?”

“I know, right?”

They both burst into peals of laughter, almost to the point of weeping. When the chuckles finally died down, his partner in crime regarded him admiringly, seeming genuinely impressed with his skill.

“Holy cow. That was amazing. That’s what you used to disarm that bully too, right?”

“Yep. Neat, huh? Been practicing with it every day.”

Her eyes shone as she scrutinized the prize.

“Hey, you mind if I give it a try?”

Tim looked rather troubled by the suggestion.

“I don’t know… You saw what just happened…”

“Pleeeaaase?” she pleaded petulantly, putting on puppy pupils. “I’ll be real careful, I promise.”

At length, he relented.

“All right, fine. Just do be careful with it, all right? This is like, my life.”

He was about to hand it – reluctantly – over to her, as she bounced excitedly in anticipation. …Before he could do so though, they were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps outside the entrance, and a key being inserted into the lock. His host stiffened in alarm.

“It’s my uncle. He’s back. You have to hide, quick.”

She grasped his hand and steered him towards the closet, practically shoving him inside.

“Stay in here. Don’t let him see you.”

She shut him in, leaving a crack of light just broad enough for him to see out, and spun around as soon as her elder relative stepped inside. The man grinned as he approached, revealing alligator teeth in stark contrast to an ape-like face, and she shifted in order to block his perspective of the closet.

“Hey, sweetie. Sorry to leave you all alone like that. Had some work I needed to – ahem – attend to. Didja miss me?”

He put a large hand on her head, and she flinched as he stroked her locks, skating down across her skin. From the shadows, Tim watched with mounting queasiness and concern at the strange behavior. There was something about the way he addressed her, and – touched her – looked at her… It made his own skin crawl. He’d seen that look, in the mature movie pictures he wasn’t supposed to go to but did anyway, and in the ogles of drunken men who hooted and called out to the pretty girls on the sidewalk late at night, conversing sweetly before inviting them up to a hotel room. He didn’t recognize what it meant exactly, but it sent chills slithering down his spine. He didn’t like that look.

“Here, I got you a little somethin’ to make up for it.” The man conjured a stuffed crocodile plush from behind his back, wearing a tacky heart T-shirt. Gingerly, she received the gift.

“It’s… nice.”

“Thought you might like it.” He beamed, before strolling towards the kitchen. His victim visibly relieved at both removal of contact and proximity to the closet. “Anyway, I’m parched. Could do with a nice cold one.”

Before he could reach the fridge though, he halted at the table, which was still set for two. His niece froze again upon realizing her overlooked mistake.

“Why are there two plates here? And where’d this bread come from?”

The girl gulped. “I was… playing pretend,” she declared innocently.

Her uncle ran a finger along the rim of the dish, noting the dust gathered on his tip.

“I see.” He revolved back slowly, sporting an unsettling smile. “You must’ve been awful lonely, all by yourself. Guess that must’ve been my fault. I’m so sorry about that.”

He advanced again, looming over her. His sinister leer was starting to seriously creep Tim out. She shrank as her hulking, gorilla-esque predator knelt down on one knee and put his hairy paws on her shoulders, which were shuddering in apprehension.

“Now, I know you wouldn’t lie to me, would you? You’re such a good girl, after all. You can be honest with me, so tell me the truth.”

He was squeezing her tightly, and it almost looked like she was in pain. Tim bristled behind the barrier, tempted to bust out and give the guy a piece of his mind. (Said mind secretly imagined that if the Batman were here, he’d surely do just that and make the mook piss his pants.) But due to the man’s crouch, he could perceive a metal piece sticking out from the rear pouch, and managed to suppress his fury. Balling trembling fists, but not wanting to put her at any more risk. A teen with a blade was one thing, but a grown man wielding a gun was another.

That’s when he – off-handedly – discerned something to the side, etched covertly within the shade, where no one else could possibly see it but from his position. It looked like a crude drawing of some sort, of a stick figure wearing a… cape?

Just then, the phone rang. The man looked displeased by the disruption, but nevertheless stood up to answer it. After a gruff exchange, he hung up and rotated towards her again.

“It’s your dad. I gotta go pick him up.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Is Mom with him?”

He shrugged.

“He didn’t say nuthin’ about Sis. Anyway, you wait here, I’ll be right back. And you better not be gettin’ into any mischief while I’m gone.”

With that menacing warning, he left. Both she and Tim exhaled upon his exit, as the latter creaked open the closet and crept out.

“Hey… Are you okay?”

He asked anxiously, detecting she was still shivering. He reached towards her, but she briskly brushed him off.

“You need to leave. Now.”

“But-”

“If my dad comes back and catches you, we’ll both be in even bigger trouble.” Heading immediately for the kitchen, she swiped the loaves and thrust them at him. “Here’s your bread. Now just hurry up and go.”

When they tried the front door though, it seemed to be stuck somehow. The bastard must have barred her inside.

“Quickly, out the fire escape.”

She pushed him towards the bedroom balcony before he could protest. Lingering on the ledge, Tim turned back towards her.

“I can’t just leave you here.”

“You have to.”

“But – the way he was looking at you – it wasn’t right.”

She lowered her countenance, and Tim determinedly offered out his palm.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s get out of here. We can run away, just the two of us. I mean it, let’s blow this dump. Come on, before he returns.”

She shook her head.

“I can’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“It’s not that. My mom… I’m worried my dad will kill her. He seriously would.”

“We can look for her together.”

“No, it’s too dangerous. He’ll hurt you too. You’ve done enough. Please… Just go.”

He could see stubborn tears in her eyes. Grudgingly, he agreed to fall back for now.

“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

He wrapped reassuringly around her fingers with a smile, before descending the stairs. She watched as he dropped to the earth and departed, leaving nothing but the trail of broken glass and her heart behind. …Hopefully, she dared allow herself to dream – if only for a little bit – it really would just be for the time being.

…

“I’m tellin’ ya, Art, the kid’s hidin’ somethin’.”

Stephanie tried to deny as the two older males interrogated her.

“Dad, I swear I didn’t let anyone in-”

Smack!

“Don’t talk back to me, you ungrateful wench! I leave for a few days and you’re already raisin’ shit. We don’t got the funds to be feedin’ no houseguests. Can’t believe I bust my friggin’ ass to provide for this family, and you and your mom just go and throw it all away. Woman’s damn pill habit is a burden that’s gone on too long. I swear to fucking God if that clinic doesn’t get her to clean up her act I’ll strangle the bitch in her sleep.”

Steph’s eyes enlarged in horror.

“No!” She threw herself at him, clinging desperately to her father’s arm. “Please don’t hurt Mom. I’ll do whatever you say.”

He yanked her off by the hair, causing her to yelp in agony.

“I don’t believe you,” he snarled, a wicked spark in his eye. “Maybe this’ll teach you to disrespect me.”

He dragged her, kicking and screaming, to the closet – and hurled her viciously inside.

“Daddy, no!”

He ignored her plea and slammed the door, locking it. She pounded against the wood with all her might, crying out pitifully, but her warden simply looked more exasperated as he lit up a cigarette.

“Cut that racket out, you brat! You’re stayin’ in there until you learn some goddamn manners.”

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it, Arthur?” His brother-in-law remarked coolly, remarkably cocking an eyebrow. “I doubt Sis would approve.”

“Don’t you be lecturin’ me on how I discipline my kid, Dave.”

He spat as he flopped on the sofa, aggravated to the extreme. David knew there was no reasoning with him in this state, and besides, maybe he was right in that such severe methods might assist in making the headstrong child more… manageable.

He licked his lips.

As predicted, the wild shrieks eventually subsided to sniffles and whimpers, and finally – silence. Arthur nodded in satisfaction.

“That’s better. Soon as she’s ready to talk, we’ll be on our way. In the meantime, get me a beer.”

As Stephanie listened to the discussion, her spirit sank as she slid down, hugging her knees as she sobbed softly into them. Accepting darkness and defeat. Who was she kidding? Didn’t matter whether she was here or at her home, inside a closet or out. No matter where, she was always trapped. She wasn’t some fairytale princess in a storybook. No one was coming to save her. …Not now, not ever.

…

Tim came back the next day. And the next. And the day after that too. So on and so forth. He knew that just going up to the door and knocking wasn’t an option, but no matter how many times he peeked in from any vantage, there was no indication of the girl he’d met at all. It was as if she’d completely vanished, like a ghost. …In fact, it didn’t seem like there was even anyone living there anymore.

Eventually he learned from eavesdropping that the tenant had apparently died of a mysterious drug overdose, made all the more puzzling by the fact that he wasn’t a known user of pharmaceuticals. No one bothered to investigate further though. As far as the police were concerned, another worthless piece of scum had been cleansed from the streets by karmic justice, and good riddance. Saved them an extra prison cell. (Plus he was rumored to be a ‘pedofile’ – whatever that meant – but Tim gathered it would’ve spelled hell for him in the slammer anyway, if he even survived it.) …As for next of kin, no one cared to spare any information to some random boy who had no business sticking his nose in other people’s private affairs.

So he broke into the vacant residence himself to search for clues to her whereabouts, but the place had already been cleared of everything personal. As he glumly sat there at the empty table, where the two of them had just been enjoying a meal together the other day, he felt completely frustrated at his utter uselessness. Who was he kidding? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t compete with the world of adults. He wasn’t some superhero. Just some weak, powerless kid who couldn’t do anything, would never accomplish beyond what he was born to be: a thief and a liar, who ends up breaking his promises just like his old man. Who couldn’t even return the favor to someone who helped save him from starving, when she herself was suffering alone.

Before he left though, some nagging sense convinced him to consult the closet. Again, there was nothing but barren space for the most part. …Except for, at the very bottom, another new addition next to the original doodle:

It was a Bat symbol.

————————–

Well, I have brittle bones it seems I bite my tongue and I torch my dreams Have a little voice to speak with And a mind of thoughts and secrecy

Things cannot be reversed We learn from the times that we are cursed Things cannot be reversed Learn from the ones we fear the worst

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #tumblr doesn't let it show up in search tags when I add extra content warnings but #heads up this chapter deals with more trauma on Steph's side #and I took some liberties in combining characters

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a-lonely-tatertot · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Home

First / Wattpad / Ao3

A/N: EYOO BOIS! told ya id post it today once again betaed by the amazing incredible @bookwyrminspiration!

words: 4860

trigger warnings: none please tell me if you find any!

Chapter 8: Kindling

Sophie stood still as stone. She knew she was staring, how could she not stare? Her girlfriend’s twin was standing in the doorway of her once home. His hair longer than she remembered, the top gathered in a messy bun, strands framing his face. Then Sophie realized it wasn’t just his hair that was different, he was wearing glasses.

Rounded bottoms, flat tops, glass that flared in the setting sun. Tam with glasses was not something Sophie was prepared for and she only managed to gap. They were silver-framed, and sat at home perched on his nose; it made him look older, and Sophie didn't know if it was good or bad.

"What's takin' so long Tam?" Mari called out from inside the house. A second later she appeared in the doorway, a cheery smile on her face that Amelia knew would be gone the moment Mari saw her. Obviously, she was right. Mari's eyes landed on the girl in front of her and her entire body went rigid, her face going through a hundred different emotions in an instant before stopping abruptly on blank confusion.

Oh. Mari was standing right in front of her, close enough to touch. Close enough that she could smell the chocolate and the familiar scent of cinnamon and apples and freshly baked bread and cookies that would melt in your mouth. Oh, how Amilia just wanted to run into her arms and cry and apologize and beg for forgiveness until her voice was hoarse. But all she could do was stand, and stare, without the courage to even think of saying something.

None of the group had heard the footsteps approach, or the small gasp, too entrapped by their own hurricanes of emotion.

"Sophie?" a timid voice asked followed by a smaller, "Linh?"

Both girls’ heads snapped up to look at who’d broken the unforgiving silence; Sophie's eyes found Fitz's and both of their faces split into comical grins. Fitz pushed past Mari, hurried and uncoordinated, stumbling his way into Sophie's arms. A startled laugh escaped her lips as Fitz wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air like she was light as a feather. Oh, how she had missed her Fitz.

Eventually, he set her down and ruffled her hair with a grin before glancing back to the group still standing in the doorway. His eyes landed on Linh who raised her hands up in surrender immediately. "Nuh-uh, nope, don't you dare try to hug me," Linh said, her tone playfully serious.

Tam and Sophie finally locked eyes and he gave her a look that clearly said, this is what I have to deal with all the time; pity me.

Sophie didn’t.

Fitz let out a laugh before grabbing Sophie's arm and practically dragging her inside. "Come on! We've got so much to talk about!"

Giving him a weak smile, Sophie glanced back at Mari. The woman's eyes narrowed, "Yes, we really do."

Sophie prayed silently to whoever was listening that she wouldn't be dead in a ditch by the end of the day.

Fitz had pushed his way through the doorway with Sophie in tow, the rest following slowly, not quite sure what to do.

It felt weird, seeing Fitz so at home in a place the exact opposite of where he grew up. But the way he smiled easily, told everyone to take a seat, talked with Linh—if Sophie didn't know any better she'd say he’d lived here his entire life.

"So," Sophie started. The living room was crammed, not meant for the five people and all of the tension. "Can we talk?" She directed the question at Fitz (and tried to ignore the flash of emotion on Mari's face).

Fitz luckily got the hint and nodded, motioning for her to follow him into the kitchen. Oh, the kitchen. She remembered the time that Mari tried to let her make pancakes on her own, which ended with her almost burning down the house. Or the time that she and Tommy got in a food fight while Mari and Angie desperately tried to salvage dinner—until Angie got a face full of mashed potato and it became a full-out war. She missed those days. Everything was so much easier. But then she had to go and mess it all up.

"Hey? You still there?" Fitz asked, yanking her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," she said hurriedly. "So how'd you end up here?" She already knew part of the story, that Fitz left and Tam tagged along.

"Mostly impulse decision. Decided I wanted to be more than 'The Next Vacker' or whatever the hell I was supposed to be. So I ended up leaving; Tam caught me at the last second and came along. We ended up in Europe, and—-after a few failed attempts—learned how to drive and made our way through the place living in this weird RV that always smelled like cheese for some reason. And then somehow we ended up on a plane here, decided more road-tripping was needed. But the car broke down and Mari ended up helping us and let us stay a couple of nights."

Sophie laughed, "Yeah, that sounds like Mari."

"Wait, so how do you know her?"

"Uh. Well, you see, I kinda lived here for a year after showing up at her diner and her taking me in," Sophie said, her hands moving as if she was trying to grasp the explanation out of the air.

"YOU'RE AMELIA?" Fitz yelled, making Sophie almost squeak. "I totally thought that she was Mari's daughter."

She paused at the words. Mari talked about her like she was her daughter? Oh. Sophie felt like she could cry. From happiness or guilt; the jury was still out.

"Well, I kinda ran away? In the middle of the night without telling her? But she caught me and we fought and haven't seen each other since," Sophie mumbled.

"You and your attachment problems."

Sophie gaped at him, "OH! I'm sorry that I got pulled into a random world at 12 and then got betrayed, hurt emotionally and physically, and had the people I cared about die!"

"Yes, but you've got to let someone closer than an arms distance away sometimes," he said with a sigh.

"I have a girlfriend; she's closer than an arms distance!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah I noticed that, but be honest with yourself, she’s not."

Sophie only glared at him.

"Look. You've got issues to figure out with Linh and Mari but I'm not gonna make you fix 'em," Fitz said after a beat. "But Linh and Tam definitely have issues that need to be talked about or this house is going to catch on fire-"

Sophie chuckled. Ignoring her own problems to fix someone else's. She could do that.

The tension in the room couldn't get any worse. Actually, it could, but if it did the house might've blown up. Fitz, bless his soul, seemed oblivious to everything. Asking question after question, talking to Linh, asking what Sophie was studying, and so on and so on until it got frankly exhausting to answer.

The Plan—she said plan, but it was more of a vague idea and a poorly put together execution— was to get the twins to talk and be together so that at least half of the tension would go away. But no, Fitz just had to keep fucking talking. Finally, Sophie had enough. "Suggest dinner dumbass," she eloquently texted Fitz.

When his phone went off he only rolled his eyes in her general direction.

"Why don't I make some dinner?" Fitz asked, getting murmurs of agreement that sounded like music to Sophie's ears.

"I'll help!" Sophie suggested, and Mari's face twisted into poorly concealed horror as she definitely remembered how it went the last time Sophie was in the kitchen unsupervised.

"Nuh-uh," Mari shook her head. "I'm going with; I do not trust you in there." Sophie only smiled innocently; it was all going according to plan. The twins, in almost unison, glanced at each other and back at the three, trying to find a way out. Sophie went over and kissed Linh on the cheek, squeezing her shoulder.

"Don't worry, it won’t be long and I'll come back if you need me," she whispered, trying to ignore the confused looks Tam was giving her.

"You better," Linh muttered back. Sophie gave her a reassuring smile before heading into the kitchen where Mari and Fitz were discussing what to make.

"We are not having breakfast for dinner just because it’s the only thing you know how to make!" Fitz argued playfully.

"It is not the only thing I know how to make; it’s just easy!" Mari retorted. Sophie watched the exchange as they went back and forth, finally deciding on chicken and waffles ‘cause it was sort of both; though, Sophie knew that Mari had really won the argument.

When both Mari and Fitz were distracted getting things out of pantries and cupboards, Sophie secretly reached out to Linh's familiar mind.

Yes, it was wrong; Sophie knew this, but she needed to make sure that Linh was going to be okay. Sophie needed to make sure she was going to be okay. What would happen if something happened and Sophie didn't react fast enough? What if Linh needed her and she didn't know? She said she would be there if she needed her and this was her way of being there for her.

Sophie distractedly did as she was instructed, doing the small tasks like cracking eggs and grabbing ingredients. She was not permitted, unless the world was ending, to touch the stove. Sophie only laughed, knowing that Mari was being paranoid, but it was something she had learned Mari was good at. Being paranoid gave her control, gave her all the angles, even if one of them was outrageous. Sophie tried not to think about the fact that she may have added to her paranoia with her run-away-in-the-middle-of-the-night stunt.

Quickly banishing the thought from her mind she focused on Linh's thoughts. Nothing had happened, there was a tension to Linh, a million thoughts a mile an hour running through her mind, what if after what if and quite a few cuss words.

"Soo..." Tam said.

"So," Linh responded, her tone flat, clearly guarded, but her mind was whirling like a tornado.

"We should talk." Linh internally scoffed at that.

"What's there to talk about?" Tam gave her a look of disbelief.

"There's everything to talk about!"

"You left."

Tam huffed, "You told me to!" Linh stayed quiet, and Tam stared at his hands. "You made it clear as day you didn't want me there; you still don’t want me. What the hell did I do wrong, Bubbles?"

Linh let out a heavy sigh. "That’s the problem," she whispered. "You didn't do anything. You were perfectly fine. You were fine doing the same thing for eternity. You were happy. And I went and fucked it up just because I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand being there, being so lonely-"

What are you doing, Fitz's voice rang in her head and she stumbled out of Linh's mind.

Sophie's face steeled. None of your business.

Fitz let out a huff of annoyance, similar to Tam's (she wondered if they were rubbing off on each other), but ultimately went back to work. Mari didn't question the weird interaction, but Sophie got the feeling she would be interrogated later by them separately. God, she did not need an adult, a sister, and a Fitz on her back. Couldn't she just make bad decisions in peace?

Sophie was grateful for them though. The pestering of Amy keeping her in check, in the right mind, the hugs from Fitz that seemed to never stop, and the way that Mari looked at her now, conflicted between holding her and never letting go and opening the gates that kept her anger behind bars. Sophie didn't know what she did to deserve them, especially after she fucked up time and time again, but she was grateful nonetheless.

They finished dinner in silence, except for the occasional "Can you pass me that?" or "Here let me show you how to do it." It was eerily domestic and made Sophie's heart clench, even making her forget about the tense conversation happening a wall over. But she didn't dare listen in again with Fitz watching her like a hawk, annoying in his way of knowing exactly what she was thinking and doing.

Eventually, the food was placed on platters, and Sophie used her waitress skills from many long days wasting away carrying plates and large orders to customers and brought all of the food out to the dining room.

Tam and Linh had kept their distance, the tension only a little bit more breathable. At least they weren't glaring daggers, now they were just ignoring the others’ existence. Baby steps. Fitz tailed behind her, setting the table as she carefully placed the food.

They soon all sat at the table, quietly serving themselves, not quite sure what to do with everyone else. Fitz and Tam kept on sharing glances, seeming to have a silent conversation that really got on Sophie's nerves. Sophie sat on the opposite end of the table from Mari, ignoring her prodding stares. "So," Linh cleared her throat, "what have you guys been doing since you got here?"

"Oh, nothing much," Tam responded, a harsh edge to his words.

Linh leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "Oh come on. It’s been forever since I saw you last; you had to do something."

Sophie, for one, was not liking where this was going. The annoyed tone, the poking, the insistence, it was suffocating. She could tell, glancing at Fitz and Mari, that she wasn't the only one.

Tam gave a curt laugh. "Well, we did do a lot, I just didn't know if you would want to hear about how much, mmh what’s the word, better it was without you."

That hit a nerve.

Sophie watched in horror as Linh's face hardened and the water in her glass started to shake. Desperately, Sophie reached for her girlfriend's hand, only for it to be pushed away as Linh stood, startling the rest of the table—except for Tam? who looked like he was getting exactly what he wanted.

"You liar," Linh spat.

Tam stood up to meet her, a glint in his eyes as the setting sun's light hit his glasses, "How would you know I'm a liar, Linh? You told me you wanted to go, so I went. You disappeared at night, and you came back looking like shit. But you told me not to ask, and you said you didn't need me. And guess what? I fucking listened, cause that's what good siblings do: they listen. So when you told me to leave, I left and caught a ride with Fitz. And he did a better job at being a brother than you ever did as my sister!"

Fitz looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle. "Guys-" he tried, but when both Linh and Tam sent him a withering look he stopped. Sophie didn't know what to do; she didn't know who to help or even if she could. It was all too much.

"Fitz isn't your goddamn brother, he didn't go through the shit we did," Linh snapped.

Tam huffed, "Linh, when is it going to get through your thick skull? I'm not replacing you, I couldn't do that even if I tried. I'm waiting, I'm waiting for you to realize you're not okay, and I'm waiting for you to ask for help instead of waiting for it to fall apart in front of you." The looking on Tam's face and the way Linh's posture sagged made Sophie feel horribly out of place. That the moment was too intimate for her to see. Granted, that hadn't stopped her before, but that wasn’t the point. The point was Linh's face going through a hundred different emotions before she walked out the door without another word.

Sophie went to stand up, to go after her, to make sure she was okay—until she felt Tam's hand on her shoulder. He shook his head and smiled softly. "Let me talk to her," he said, and suddenly he looked too old to be the person she once knew. But she stayed where she was and let Tam go out the still-open door without an argument.

"What the hell was that?" Mari asked as soon as Tam left.

"They're twins," Fitz supplied.

"With emotional trauma and attachment issues," Sophie added. Mari only nodded and left it at that. The three finished up dinner without another word.

Light buzzes against Sophie's hand woke her up. She groaned in annoyance as the bright screen displayed Amy's name, knowing this was a call she shouldn't ignore. Slowly she found her way out of bed and Linh's arms, fumbling to answer the phone, anything to keep it from waking Linh up. She tiptoed down the hall, subconsciously taking the familiar path. Putting the phone to her ear, Amy's voice shrieked through the phone.

"HIII!" Amy screamed.

"You are way too awake at one in the morning," Sophie grumbled.

"I had a coffee around twelve in the morning, another an hour ago, and just chugged a Redbull," Amy explained as if nothing about this extreme amount of caffeine was concerning.

"And why, pray tell, did you do this?"

"Midterms." That explained everything perfectly. Amy was silent for a moment and Sophie spun around the room, eyes raking over the familiar scene she found herself in. A nightstand cluttered with chargers and books and random trinkets, a dresser void of any clothes, and a desk with the all too familiar pens she had collected and doodles she had etched into the smooth frame. On the bed, she found a familiar book that made her breath hitch and everything in her freeze. Against her will she was drawn towards it, opening the frayed frame displayed the first page of the scrapbook, a picture of Angie, Mari, Tommy, and Amilia outside of the diner.

Angie had given her the book the first and only Hanukkah she was there. It was during the middle of dinner, Amilia had her face stuffed with sufganiyot, and Tommy had come over. It was really a present to the both of them, knowing that neither would be getting anything from their respective families and a reminder that they would always have the home they had built. It was that night Amilia realized she had built herself a family, she had gained a brother and mothers. Her own makeshift family. But that had scared her to her core, being a part of something again. So she started to plan, and she gave into that horrible urge to run.

"Soph? Sophie are you okay?" Amy's voice tore through her thoughts like a light in the darkness.

"What if I fuck it all up again?" Sophie asks, her words shake, and she realizes her cheeks are wet from tears that had spilled over without her permission.

"You won’t."

"How do you know? What do I do when Linh finds out I've seen things I shouldn't have? That I've been keeping it from her? What do I do when Mari asks about who I was? What-"

"Stop." She stopped. "I need you to breathe," Amy spoke softly like Sophie was some wild animal. Over the next minute Amy counted while Sophie breathed, it was a routine at this point. Too many times had Amy walked in on Sophie barely holding herself. Eventually, Sophie's breathing calmed and so did the horrible buzzing of adrenaline in her system.

"I know that you're scared and that you have every right to be," Amy said finally into the empty silence. "But no matter what I will always be here with you okay? As you do everything I'm going to be here for you. No matter how much of a dumbass you are sometimes."

Sophie laughed dryly, "Thank you." She ignored how much it mirrored Linh's words on the bus.

They talked for a long time after, about anything and everything. About their friends at university to what Sophie's going to do about the boys. "It's weird, isn't it?" Sophie asked, watching the moon rise from the window from above her old bed.

"What's weird?"

"That we found each other so quickly that we all just seemed to be in the right place at the right time."

Amy was quiet for a minute, nothing but the sound of papers rustling to remind Sophie that she was still there. "Yeah, I guess it could be seen as weird. Maybe the universe was tired of seeing you guys dance around each other."

Sophie chuckled lightly and they left it at that as they jumped onto the next train of thought.

Sophie stepped out into the cold. Amy had hung up thirty minutes prior, leaving her in the dark next to Linh feeling ever so alone. She hadn't told her sister about the eavesdropping; she already knew what Amy would say. Sophie didn't need another lecture; it was too damn late for that. She ignored the guilt that had evidently arisen with the thoughts and had quietly snuck out of the living room, through the kitchen, and out the door. Eerily similar to the way she had the night she left, her brain unhelpfully reminded her. She winced at the steel in Mari’s voice, as she had told her not to be a coward stabbed deep in her heart.

She sat on the swinging bench outside, gently rocking herself back and forth on it. Her mind wandered, from how Mari did after she left, if she tried to go after her, she thought of Tommy and how he reacted, if he expected her to leave like the mystery boy he had fallen for. She sat and marveled at the stars and how clear they were. She thought of how the night, no matter how dark, never seemed to swallow her up, just sat like an old friend waiting.

Her thoughts surrounded her, infusing her so deeply she didn't hear the door creak open as Mari stepped through and cleared her throat, “Is this spot taken?”

Startled, Sophie shook her head, and her eyes found the plate that she was holding. It held her favorite dessert that Mari would make: a mini upside-down pineapple chocolate cake that never failed to make Sophie feel better.

They sat in heavy silence, staring off, avoiding looking at each other, instead of staring off into the trees, eating their respective mini cakes. Sophie didn't know how long it had been when Mari finally cleared her throat.

"I kept the stuff you left," she whispered.

"I- thank you," Sophie said even though she already knew because nothing else seemed to fit. A beat passed where Sophie grasped for something, anything to say to the woman next to her. Instead, she tore out an eyelash, reveling in the stab of pain she had become numb to.

"I thought you were done with that habit," Mari stated. So did Sophie. Until Linh showed up until the world decided to hate her once more.

"Old habits die hard," she shrugged.

Mari nodded, clearly having more important questions on her mind, "So...they call you Sophie, huh?"

Sophie's breath hitched. "Um yea," she stumbled. "It's a long story."

"We've got all night." And at that Sophie knew what the rest of the night was going to be, her spilling her guts about every fucked up thing that happened when she was a kid. She didn't even know how many laws she would break telling Mari everything but fuck it. Mari deserved to know.

"When I was five, I started to read minds," Sophie started softly. Mari didn't react, staying quiet for her to continue. So she did, and she told her everything. From before Fitz found her to when she left.

Mari was quiet the entire time Sophie talked, her face set in a mask, betraying none of her emotions, which made Sophie's entire stomach twist. By the time Sophie finished, fireflies had risen around the trees and grass around them. Their flickering lights were majestic, and Sophie wondered what it would be like to be a firefly. How simple it would be to be just one light in a million. She mulled over their similarities to stars, yet she remembered learning once how very far away each star was from another, what a lonely existence it must be.

They sat, Sophie still as a statue, Mari probably deciding that this random girl and her group of people were very very crazy. Finally, Mari cleared her throat, "You know I won't believe you without proof."

Sophie let out a harsh laugh, "If you did I would honestly be concerned about your sanity." Mari smiled small. Sophie cleared her throat, "So, uh what do you wanna see first?"

"Telepathy?" Mari asked, her face falling back into that mask counseling her. Sophie took a breath and closed her eyes.

She opened her mind to the world and reached forward for Mari. "Hello," Sophie transmitted and opened her eyes. Mari's eyes were blown wide and her mouth hung open slightly, her mask nowhere to be found. Sophie pulled out of her mind, closing her walls against the bombarding thoughts, and the world was quiet again.

"What the fuck," Mari breathed.

Sophie laughed, giggled more like. Maybe she was tired, maybe it was Mari's face, maybe she had hit her limit. She giggled till she was breathlessly holding her stomach. Mari only stared at her silently trying to gauge who the hell this kid was sitting next to her.

Arms were around Sophie before she knew what was happening, holding her, encasing her, like they were trying to protect her from the rest of the world. "What is this for?" Sophie whispered. It wasn't like she didn't appreciate it, honestly, she loved it, she missed motherly hugs and the way that Edaline would hold her at night when she couldn't sleep. Burying her head into Mari's shoulder, breathing in the smell of pineapple and chocolate and a home she missed so much.

"I am so sorry," Mari said. "For what they did to you, Soybean."

Sophie's eyes teared up at the name. She remembered when Mari told her about the nickname, they were in the diner closing up when Angie brought up the topic . For the next half an hour she’d smothered Mari in random nicknames, each one getting worse as the time went by. They were walking back when Mari asked her, and she said she was once called Soybean when the world was much easier.

They stayed there for who knows how long, in the cold, a thousand fireflies shining, and the warmth of a home Sophie always wanted around her.

"Sophie," a sing-song voice forced its way through her dreams, earning a grumble in return.

"She is impossible to wake up in the morning," another voice said.

"Hey, at least she sleeps," voice number three said.

"Sophiieeee, if you don’t wake up I am going to be forced to give you affection," the first voice spoke again; it was Linh, the more awake part of her brain supplied. Sophie only grumbled again, trying to bury herself under the covers once more. But in a blink of an eye the blanket was gone and she was curling around nothing, as hands were placed on her sides and kisses attacked her face. The fingers on her sides started to move and suddenly a bubble in her stomach popped and she was rolling with laughter trying to escape her girlfriend's tickles and kisses.

"I'm- I'm awake!" Sophie breathed between giggles.

Dimly, she registered who she thought was Amy say, "I think I'm going to barf," and Fitz agreeing with her while Mari ushered them out of the room with a fond look on her face.

Eventually, the torture stopped and both girls were breathless, but in the best way possible. "It's too early for this," Sophie said, flopping back down onto the bed. Linh giggled and the sound did something to Sophie's insides. Maybe it was love, she thought as she fought the shame that came from the secrets she kept (it’s not and she knows this, but maybe if she pretends it is, then it will be, then she'll be enough).

"Come on, love," Linh whispered, something in her eyes shining that Sophie didn't want to know. It would hurt too much to know.

Breakfast was a small affair; the tension had lessened. Much less like a nuke about to go off and more like a small bomb that would blow with the slightest move. Sophie and Mari's talk helped, and so did Amy's presence distracting the twins from each other.

It was nice, sitting, talking, fighting with no malice in their words. For once, Sophie felt like she was home. Sure it still needed healing, and work, and help, but it was still her home.

#weeeeee #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #sophie foster #amy foster #linh song #tam song #fitz vacker #kotlc fic #fanfic #tater writes #finding home

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your-grand-adventure · 4 years ago

Text

I posted 105 times in 2021

21 posts created (20%)

84 posts reblogged (80%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.0 posts.

I added 46 tags in 2021

#original writing - 7 posts

#shitpost - 7 posts

#worldbuilding - 6 posts

#oc: maxie - 5 posts

#maxie - 4 posts

#inscryption - 4 posts

#time bokan - 4 posts

#inscryption spoilers - 3 posts

#one piece - 3 posts

#horror - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#emmy ascended into an eternal recurrence of a reincarnation that sometimes shares all memories

My Top Posts in 2021

My current hyperfixations(MotU2021 and Inscryption) are bleeding into each other. Read my previous Inscryption post for a summary of my crappy sequel/AU idea. Also this is post Season 1 for MotU2021.

-Basically, after Grogal(and after The Student collects more cards including The Stinkbug(Grimora), and The Second Stoat(a brand new character made for this AU/sequel) and beats up the planet's resident darklords in the card game), The Student accidentally turns left at Abucurky(The Star Station was named as such by the Star Humans as an inside joke) and enters a hole in time space. One that goes to Eternia.

-There, they(all pronouns for my child) screw around and make the big mistake of using an Archfiend. Archfiends warp reality slightly to show off their power.

-The Snake Mountain gang get winds of this.

-The Student gets kidnapped and has to play tutorial man to a group of losers on power trips(Skeletor is the biggest and strongest, but, for whatever reason, he's merciful towards The Student. The real scariest is Kronis. Everyone else can play the game just fine, but Kronis cannot get the rules to stay in his head too long).

-The Stoat, The Stinkbug, and The Second Stoat are perpetually on the edge of losing their minds every time something goes wrong.

-Which is often.

-Like holy shit man. Skeletor keeps trying to steal the masks The Student puts on to try and enhance the experience, Evelyn always wants to summon an Archfiend, R'Qazz keeps sacrificing the animal cards, and Kronis is a trainwreck.

-I have no idea what else to do with this idea.

5 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 22:10:39 GMT

Balan Wonderworld is a bad modern game.

This kinda essay is exactly what it says on the tin. Balan Wonderworld is a bad modern game because of dated controls, a lack of non-book story, and the lack of ability to keep up the vibe. In the olden times of Platformers, this stuff would have been partially O.K. The controls wouldn't be dated, the story would have had some explanation of stuff(Fun Fact: The game is based on Broadway musicals. Did you know that until you saw a post on the subject? I didn't. The game only hints at this stuff.) and back then, games had to keep the vibe visible or else perish. The Cutscenes are a 10/10. Character design has *T H O S E* vibes

7 notes • Posted 2021-04-11 01:03:16 GMT

*slaps desk* Tell me what you like about Yatterman.

Yatterman is, from an outsider's perspective, batshit insane. It has such a simple looking premise(two superpower-less kids, their toy robot, and their mech robot go and fight a trio of bad guys with their own mech made for the episode and an unknown bad guy), but then you watch the episodes, and dear god. It's ridiculous, and oh no I've gotten attached to these many dumbasses(I'm looking at the Dorombo gang, as respectfully as I can at a bunch of idiots who look completely ridiculous and YatterKing, yatterking my beloved) and also, What The F*** just happened. Have my offering of Youtube subtitled Episodes of Yatterman(1977) in hopes of Dorombo gang fanart: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjeizKaIPOo&list=PL8X1q_TwRdmfRJAzVrhawKlyOAtF6e5jC

Also, watch other Time Bokan series.

12 notes • Posted 2021-08-29 01:16:08 GMT

Weird Inscryption AU/Sequel Ideas Part 1

-We start with a 'friendly' duel between The Student and The Teacher. The Student is featureless beyond wearing a hat and a cloak. The Teacher is a many eyed being with many arms and hands. The Teacher is the worst mix between Leshy and P03 personality-wise, but they still attempt to teach you the game.

-The game is changed slightly. There is still Blood, Bones, and Energy. The mechanics on energy have changed(drain the health of an animal/undead thing/another robot/rememory to summon a robot). The element that replaces Mox is Memory. Memory is a resource acquired turn by turn to be used when you call upon a rememory(basically a character card). There are multi-resource super cards that are divided into Archfiends and Archangels(They all speak! all other cards that can do this are seen as anomalies)

-Your starting deck is mainly blood based cards with only high bone/1 blood/3 memory cost card Kraken as an outlier. It also has your(the player's) old friend, The Stoat(there's another non-P03 Stoat later on).

-The Stoat's a curiosity to The Teacher. The Stoat does not think likewise. The Stoat is less abusive towards The Student compared to his/their/it's antics in the previous game. Kraken and The Stoat start bickering the second their ideas on how to play clash. Kraken loves The Student as a friend.

-After you win two direct battles against The Teacher, he basically forces you out with the excuse of 'see the world, fight better card players, get a better deck'(the real reason is that The Teacher is being 'fixed' and his personality will change and he doesn't want to be seen suffer).

-This is where Act 2 gameplay returns.

-please don't kill me. I have fun world building.

-In the White Spiral Galaxy, the card game is a hobby! A massive hobby, but a hobby none the less.

-The Student cannot fight. They need someone/something else to get them between settlements. The Stoat almost calls The Student a little bitch at one point(involving a trio of crappy raiders, a lich who loves the card game and is also a Darklord matching minds with you(5th return of Act 1 style), and one hell of an exit).

-There are 8 major planets in the White Spiral Galaxy.

-They are: Lero(the Green Planet), Grogal(the Desert Planet), Tormental(The Water Planet), Glisenglim(The Ice Planet), Gigantula(The Giant Jungle Planet), Tinkadink(The Fountain Mine Planet), Zeus(The Cloud Planet), and The Unnamed Planet(The New Planet).

12 notes • Posted 2021-10-30 23:08:33 GMT

Happy Nintendo Direct

Splatoon is one of my joys just b/c worldbuilding. Clothes and Weapon based Worldbuilding that ties into biology worldbuilding.

There is going to be a Splatoon 3. Ya’ll need to get ready b/c while 1990s throwback stuff is fine, I’m ALL here for the post-apoc type outfits. Maybe, Nintendo could make hybrid outfits where it’s both post-apocalypse and 1990s outfit, b/c that would be the best aesthetic.

13 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 01:32:48 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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omniswords · 5 years ago

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Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 12

happy Chronicles update! I know I waited a while to post this one, but I feel like I’m in a good place to share it now. so, I hope you like it! it’s... an interesting one.

from: itsdjbubbles 29 July, 19:30. La Tortue. you and your group got a setlist?

to: itsdjbubbles i… could have a setlist. and we’re more of a band than a group.

from: itsdjbubbles hell yeah, dude. you’re in.

–––

just saw adrien agreste in person. In Person. i don’t think i can even afford his aura. or, like. the CO2 he’s breathing out?

no, i’m not going to say where. i’m not a total dickwad. just sometimes. mostly because my sister would come for me if i didn’t say so.

also, fellow parisians, who hopefully are not or have not been as much of a dumbass as me: watch this space for an announcement, maybe.

Adrien Agreste is right. There. In all his swoopy-blond-hair, thousand-euro-smile, million-euro-clothing glory. Hanging by the doorway, and seeing him standing at the register like an actual human being, and laughing like an actual human being, and paying with a debit card like an actual human being, is like looking into the goddamn sun. Or like standing in the weird static, plasma dimension that exists between the TV screen and real life. Or both.

Okay. Luka will admit that, for a time that now feels both distant and delirious, he… probably entertained a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. But it was short-lived, and it felt more like a warm fuzz in his stomach whenever he passed by those radiant advertisements for perfume, men’s clothing, even underwear. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he was just admitting that Adrien Agreste had a certain charm and attraction because he, like many people in Paris, had a functional pair of eyes.

It was… fantasy, really. Self-indulgent. The way most infatuation tends to be. Observation with a cause; he heard it once in a song.

Adrien Agreste is still standing right. There. At the register. And Luka hasn’t moved from the entrance. Not even when the door hits him unceremoniously in the back and the bell above it mocks him as it announces his arrival.

And then Adrien Agreste turns on his heel, slipping his wallet into his back pocket with one seemingly perfect hand and gripping a pastry box with the other, and Luka’s body reminds him to step aside. He does, still dumbstruck despite how Adrien Agreste literally smiles at him and says good morning, and the door closes behind him again, and not for the first time in his life, Luka forgets what words are or how to string them together.

When he comes to his senses and makes peace with the fact that he just shared the same breathing air as a real-live supermodel, he notices—even from this far away—that Marinette is wearing that expression again. The one from the park. The one he wishes never existed—because even if this is another observation with a cause, he at least has the good sense to know that Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not deserve to look so sad, no matter how many smiles she layers on top of it.

Until now, it seems like Marinette’s only been looking past him, but when her eyes finally settle on him, she perks up a bit from her place at the register. “You dyed your hair,” she says by way of greeting, and he swears her face starts to glow. Or maybe it always was glowing. Maybe it wasn’t because of him.

“Uh,” he replies, because when has he ever been smooth when she’ s looking at him like that? or at all? “Technically, Jules did.” He says it hurriedly, so neither of them has to worry about it or talk about it, but then she has to go and tell him that it looks good on him, and his words have to get stuck on his tongue again when he says, “Thanks, I grew it myself.”

Kill him. Now. He’s ready. Juleka can have his guitar.

“So,” he goes on, a little perkier than he means to, but it’s probably for the best. “That was, uh… that Adrien Agreste guy, huh? You know him or something?”

Marinette’s expression is almost unreadable. It is hard to tell if she regrets knowing Adrien, or if she thinks Luka must be living under a rock because everyone knows who Adrien Agreste is. She snaps back to herself soon enough, and she’s browsing the pastry cases as though it’s her responsibility to find something good for him. “We used to go to middle school together,” she explains. “Just for a while. I even used to have this mondo crush on him. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah,” Luka says, because he can’t count how many times he’s imagined her in love, much less how many times he’s imagined other people in love with her. “Huh. I pegged him as the type to get homeschooled or something.” He tosses a glance behind him, just to see if the limo is still there, but it’s long since peeled away. “What… happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You…” He pauses. “You said, ‘used to?’”

“Oh,” she says, half-flippant, with a sheepish laugh to match. “Y’know.”

Luka narrows his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he says. “That’s… why I asked?” Even though he maybe, definitely shouldn’t have because it maybe, definitely isn’t his business.

Marinette shrugs, busies herself with boxing up a selection. He doesn’t even have to ask. (Is it good that he doesn’t have to ask?) “I switched schools. That’s all. Turns out absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder after all.”

It doesn’t sound like that’s all, especially if the bittersweet look on her face has anything to say about it, but who is he to push? Who is he to do anything but peek into her life and feel grateful, privileged, for what she’s allowed him?

“Anyway,” she goes on; it’s mesmerizing, watching her multitask. The grace with which she can open herself up, so clipped, while taping a box shut. “Our friend is making this music video for a summer class he’s taking. He’s really into film, you know? And we’re playing opposite each other in it. I guess he wanted to come by and chat about it, but I think he had something else in mind.”

Luka’s brow furrows.

When Marinette turns, box in hand, her lips scrunch up awkwardly. Like she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say this time. “Now he’s the one who…”

Oh. Well. Fuck.

“I turned him down,” she adds with a shrug. “In high school. And we’re still… sort of friends. We text and stuff, have a couple of mutual friends. I just get the sense those feelings—his, I mean—never really went away. There’s just… something I can’t shake. Do you know what I mean?”

Does he know what she means? Does he feel? He nods, dumbly, and maybe this moment separated by a counter and a cash register isn’t supposed to be as deep and twisted and thorny as it is. But it is, and it feels that way because he feels, and he wonders if she feels it, too. If there are parts of her that never went away, either.

“Sorry,” Marinette blurts out once the moment ends—too soon, as far as he’s concerned. “You didn’t ask to hear all that.”

“I don’t mind.” Luka offers her a smile because it’s the best thing he has on him. “Life stories, remember?”

She smiles back. It’s slow, and knowing, and it makes him melt in his shoes. “Are you gonna make a song about it, Music Man?”

Okay. Okay. Wow.

Maybe it was worth staying alive for literally this one moment.

“I could write a song about it,” he says; it’s a miracle he doesn’t stammer. “Would you come and listen to it?”

“In the park?”

“At a gig.”

Marinette looks surprised, and then impressed, and damn if he doesn’t want to keep doing things that make her make that face. “Maybe I will,” she says, almost demure, like he asked her on a date or something. (Did he? Ask her on a date?) She looks just past him, and when he follows her gaze it lands on a bulletin board by the door. “Maybe you should swing by with a flyer or something.”

“Maybe I will.” Wow, two for two. He takes the box, reaches for his wallet. “I’ll watch that video, too, we’ll call it even—”

Her hand is on his before he can even pull out his card. And it isn’t until after she’s pushed his wallet back toward him that it finally registers that she’s touched him. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s on the house. Just bring the flyer, and then we’ll call it even.”

Luka looks between her and the box a number of times, too many questions on his tongue to get any of them out. Why is she being so nice to him? why does she insist on giving him things he hasn’t worked for, or finding loopholes to prove that he did work for it? Is she flirting with him? Or does she pity him? Or is she just being nice because he’s one of her parents’ regulars? Or does she… does she, maybe…

He holds his breath, and searches her eyes, and gets lost in the music he’s still sort of trying to place. He slips his wallet into his back pocket all the same, and he takes the box from her, and it’s ridiculous how fiercely he wishes he could feel her fingers brush the back of his hand again. “You got a deal,” he murmurs—mentally kicks himself for sounding so out of touch. He backs out of the store like it’s illegal to tear his eyes away; it feels like it is, when she’s smiling at him like that. The Not For Customers smile.

Admittedly, he wonders if she ever gave Adrien Agreste that smile, once upon a time.

Maybe he shouldn’t have wondered, because his back bumps right into the door, and the bell above it jingles as though it’s annoyed. But Marinette isn’t; in fact, she giggles behind a hand, and she gives him a little wave like she’s going to keep the memory safe in the pocket of her apron. He manages a weak laugh, and a wave of his own, and then he’s stumbling out the door and walking his bike to the first open bench he can find. He needs to sit down. Put his head in his hands for a while.

Because he thinks she just flirted with him. And he thinks he flirted right back. And he knows she just touched him, in spite of everything she told him about Adrien, in spite of him being right. There. And it’s all finally, finally sinking in, and the world is spinning in a way he’s not really used to, and…

Maybe he just needs a sugar boost.

Shaking his head and sighing, he pops the seal on the pastry box, fully prepared to find a half dozen napoleons inside. There aren’t—only two pastries.

One napoleon.

And one pear tart.

His heart stutters. Makes up for how he didn’t before.

That’s how it gets him.

hey mom? mr. president? deity of indeterminate gender?

how do i go about legally changing my name to Music Man?

you know. hypothetically.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #oh boy.

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minnochu · 5 years ago

Text

Lustrous (pt 19)

Hybrid!Kook x Fem!Reader AU

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19 | Pt 20

(A/n): This has been in my drafts for the past week, debating if I wanna post this or not, ‘cause it’s a bit of a filler but I also gotta feed my readers at some point in time y’know lol!

The pining is almost endless I feel bad. Just a little.

Also the only time my irl knowledge in tkd comes in handy is now, and still shits on my lack of ability to write anything having to do with action lol.

Once again, let me know what you think!! Love you all a bunch <3

The sun hits your eyes through the blinds the very next morning. As your eyelids flutter open, you reminisce the happenings of last night.

“Will you forgive me then?” Jungkook’s voice had asked quietly after a moment of silence, the both of you busying yourselves at that time with staring at the night sky. The way he glanced at you in search of an answer stole your breath.

His eyes shimmered with a glint of his azure glow so quick, you wondered if he’d even shown his true colors in the first place. You admire the way they hold so much emotion, vulnerability. Outwardly, he’s closed off, a defense mechanism after hurting Hyejin and his pack, in order to protect others and himself from going crazy. His gaze that constantly shifted between an earthy cedar and a roaring sea, you loved them all. In the beginning, they appeared cold and lonely, but fuck all if you didn’t love the way they reflected the light of the moon and the stars. Even the emotions you had yet to witness, it was bound to be as beautiful as what he’s allowed you to see.

“Hm… I don’t know…” You had answered back with a teasing lilt to your smile. The wolf had visibly been taken aback by the reply, wondering if he was being too indecisive. The panic that crosses his expression is so apparent that you can’t help but find it too cute. The bubble of a giggle soothes him, his shoulders sink with relief, eyes drinking up the beginnings of a smile that graces your lips.

Better than before, the air between you both had finally begun to calm and it felt more serene and secure, just as it was before this whole mess.

“Come back to us, (Y/n),” He said, more like a command than a request, but the way he whispered your name that time sent you soaring. The way the syllables of your name sounded on his tongue seemed almost unrealistic. You almost forgotten that he was fated to another lucky woman.

Until Jimin interrupted the two of you of course.

Both of you went rigid when Jimin’s messy brunette hair pops up from the edge of the roof.

“You both are real loud you know?” His smile is goofy as he wiggles his eyebrows at the two, “You know… ‘cause us were-creatures have enhanced hearing.” He taps his right ear with a smirk before taking his leave when a growl emits from Jungkook’s chest.

Glaring up at the familiar ceiling, Jungkook’s ceiling, you missed the sense of security you felt laying in his bed. His sheets, dare you say creepily, were drenched in his scent. Vanilla and a twist of floral, not the scent you’d expect of a growing boy, but you grew fond of it nonetheless as you continued to stay with the boys.

You hadn’t realized it until now, the inexplicable warmth curled around your body. Turning over, you don’t expect Jungkook’s giant wolf form lying asleep behind you.

How unexpected, you think, despite all this, the hybrid sleeping in the same bed as you was the most least likely to happen after all the tension between you both. If you recalled correctly as well, Jungkook was very adamant on sleeping on the floor last night.

Shades of pink blossom over your cheeks, a warm sensation settling in your chest as you reach out a hand to gently stroke your fingers over his fur. Soft. It doesn’t even feel like he’s a wolf, more like an extremely oversized puppy. His ears twitch at the sudden stimulation, and you’re suddenly aware that his tail had been curled over your hip. The long appendage rises and falls, wagging just slightly as you snicker softly and move to scratch your fingers behind his ear.

An azure eye peers open, and his tail immediately halts before it can fall back over your side. He seems to grow increasingly aware that he’d slipped onto the bed in the middle of the night and despite his less expressive state as a wolf, he turns away in embarrassment. You, however, take this as disturbing his sleep. Smiling softly, you sift your fingers one last time down his spine with a whispered apology and good morning before getting up to head downstairs for some breakfast.

A puff of air shoots from his nostrils, mimicking a sigh as he watches you glance back at him one more time before closing the door softly behind you. He’s hyper aware of you bumping into Hoseok at the stairs, no thanks to his enhanced hearing, and feels his tail bristling with jealousy when he can hear Hoseok laughing with you about something he hadn’t cared to remember.

“Are you a dumbass?”

Jimin stood up from his seat, chopsticks clattering on the ground as his eyes flashed a dangerous gold hue at the hybrid. Namjoon stays steely, taken to resting his chin on his knuckles, eyes watching patiently as Seokjin pries their chairs further away from one another.

“I thought I’d spare her the pain knowing that a disgusting monster like me imprinted on her.”

“Spare her the pain? Are you sure you’re not trying to protect yourself from the possibility that she might reject you? Don’t even try to convince yourself that you’re pushing her away because you want to protect her,” Yoongi scoffs this time, his face doesn’t show it but his eyes swirl with a relentless storm, anger and disappointment as the younger scowls back at him. The hybrid doesn’t have a comeback, because he and everyone at the table knows that Yoongi’s right.

“She’s a mortal,” Hoseok speaks up, trying to lift the tension between his pack mates, although he was also quite upset at Jungkook’s childish and self-deprecating tendencies, “He has some right to being scared, she doesn’t feel the pull like he does, she might run away or have second thoughts about his feelings.”

“You do… like her… right?” he asks a little tentatively this time. All eyes turn to the youngest, eager and curious. He almost feels intimidated like he wants to shrivel up until the floor swallowed him whole. He can’t even bother trying to lie in front of them either, not when there were two vampires and a warlock that could force the truth out of him if need be.

“I do. So much it hurts. Ever since I decided that she and Hyejin are two different people and merely a present and a past, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, she’s all I can think about and I hate it. But I’m scared, I’m so scared, I don’t wanna hurt her. I was angry initially, frustrated, and torn. Why did the stars give me someone I could just as easily kill? I wanted to hate her, but I can’t.

“She thinks I imprinted on Hyejin and I’m such a big dumbass I can’t bring myself to tell her that it’s her. She’s gonna think I’m playing with her, that I was only forced to like her. But fuck do I like her, it’s ruining me, smelling Yoongi’s scent on her made me so angry, I wanted to hurt you hyung, why does she smell like you when it should be me? I’ve messed up… but I can’t even trust myself around her.”

“Then tell her Kook-ah,” Seokjin smiles softly, “Obviously not that you imprinted on her since you’re obviously not ready yet… just that you’re not ready yet to disclose that part of yourself yet, I’m sure she’ll understand as long as you’re not simply pushing her away without saying anything.”

“Yeah Kookie! She’s a teenage girl, she’ll be more hurt that you continue to shut her out.”

Yoongi catches the teen once everyone had said their fill, motioning him to follow the elder into the thicket until they reached what was once the clearing where you and Jungkook had fought for your lives against the hunters. Seokjin had meant his word and returned to the area and cleaned up, no bodies, no damage from magic or fighting. Trees covered the area as though two meteors did not just come raining. Kneeling down, he sighed at his own reflection in the pond, the vibrant colors of the fish greeting his eyes.

“I think you make her out to be a lot more weak than she really is, you know?” Yoongi finally says, standing at the top of the hill with his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. His eyes stare down at the water, his gaze pinned on the pond skater racing back and forth on the surface. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed in you, but you’re smarter than that.”

“I’m glad you took my food for thought and finally used your brains to realize what (Y/n) means to you, but I think you’re underestimating her a little too much.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but the withering glance from the older wolf has him deflating and clamping his mouth shut once more.

“I get it, but she’s been taking everything handed to her head on, the girl just found out she was a siphoner, had to fight her dead mother, and she’s just now trying to get the hang of using her abilities. You don’t think she can handle a little confession?”

The hybrid scoffed this time, tossing a pebble into the water. Its inhabitants fled the area as the rock broke past the surface with gentle ripples. “It’s not just a confession. You forget that she’s still mortal with human feelings. Hoseok-hyung said himself. She doesn’t full that pull and it will only confuse her. She’ll start thinking about the unnecessary like what if my feelings are all a lie. It’s not really me who likes her, it’s my wolf.”

“But you do like her?”

“I do! So fucking much it’s tearing me apart!”

Yoongi tapped Jungkook on the shoulder, waiting for the younger to turn before sending him stumbling into the pond with punch to his face. Slipping on the uneven ground, the boy fell backwards onto his rear with a large splash. Water goes flying from his sudden weight and he’s soaked from head to toe, simmering in the pond as he glares at the elder.

“Now that’s a look,” he chuckles, “Cool off a little will you? There’s nothing wrong with telling her, do it at your own pace sure, but you know you’re inevitably going to have to tell her someday. If she questions it, all you have to do is prove that you like her with or without the pull of your wolf.”

“Rejection is harsh, but seeing her move on without you is even harder, but she’s your soulmate in simpler terms, you just need to grow a pair. She can handle you, you just don’t give her the credit she deserves, you ass.”

Yoongi bends down to offer the boy a hand, to which Jungkook relents his glare and clasps his hand in the other’s. He should have seen it coming as the elder is yanked forward, head first diving into the pond.

“You little fucker!”

“That’s what you fucking get, asshole.”

The two stare at each other pensively before bursting into laughter. Yoongi smiles softly at the younger, eyes warm as he nudges the boy with his fist.

“Still, I can’t believe I get to see the day you get all mushy over your imprintee”

“H-hyung!”

“I know Hyejin was something else, but still, you lucky bastard I still haven’t found my own mate yet.”

Jungkook stretched with a drawn out yawn, bones melding together and steam unfurling from his bare skin. Eyes struggling to stay open, he scratches and ruffles his hair before finding the energy to get up from bed. Looking for clothes, he pondered over the thought.

Was he really underestimating you?

“Glad to have you back,” Seokjin greets when you appear in the kitchen, offering to help as he prepares breakfast for all the boys. The warlock happily lets you set up the table with side dishes as he finished up the main plates.

“Sorry for worrying everyone,” You say a bit hesitantly when you finally face the warlock. It hadn’t caught up to you just yet, but being around the boys again reminded you of how childish you were for running away like that.

“Don’t be, Kook’s just an idiot,” Taehyung hums when he walks in, ruffling his already messy hair as he yawns and rummages through the fridge. Returning to his full height, he winked your way while dangling a pouch of pork blood in between his two fingers. “If you get tired of waiting on him, I’ll always be an option.”

“There will be no options when I rip your head off,” Jungkook’s growl enters abruptly, startling you as you greeted him warmly. Releasing the vampire from his withering glare, he refocused his attention on you with a soft gleam in his chocolate gaze.

“How scary,” Taehyung whines in feigned fear, emphasizing a shiver as he pierces the pouch with a straw, “And here I thought you let me off the hook for forcing her memories out.”

“And then shoving them back in you fuckhead!”

The two bicker and you can only muffle a giggle at how lively they are in the morning. You don’t realize the addition of another aura, until Namjoon’s large hand is gently squeezing your shoulder. You turn to look up to him, slightly surprised by his sudden entrance. If you didn’t know any better, the warmth of his smile that matched the gentleness in his dark eyes nearly made you forget that he was the vampiric leader of this rowdy bunch.

“At the very least they’re back to normal,” his deep voice rumbles with the ghost of a pleasant chuckle, “Yesterday was a little… tense… so let’s not run away again, yeah?”

“Y-yes sir!” You gulp, expecting his eyes to flash gold, but he merely laughs at your apparent fear.

“(Y/n), lighten up, I only say that since we are protecting you, the recent attack has us all on edge, you know. Jungkook’s a prick but nothing’s stopped you until now right? He’s just a bit... dumb.”

“I heard that hyung!”

Namjoon raises his hand from your shoulder quickly, holding it up with a cheeky grin when Jungkook turns his glare over to the blatant hand on your shoulder.

“Heel puppy,” Taehyung tsks, rolling his eyes at the youngest’s irritation. The second youngest moves to take a seat at the table when Jungkook elbows him, causing him to momentarily choke on his blood.

“Oh my Gods you children,” Seokjin sighs exasperatedly as the two bicker once more, whispering a silent spell that none too gently shoves them into the dining table chairs. The eldest shakes his head in disapproval as they pout and stare each other down.

The rest of the boys coming bounding into the room, at least on Hoseok and Jimin’s part. Yoongi could barely go a second without his mouth opening wide in a long yawn, dragging his feet and falling onto the chair with a slump.

Breakfast came and went, and you can only think about how fond you were starting to become of this scene. In the beginning, when you had first started staying with the pack, this scene felt weird. Like an outsider intruding on a happy family. But Hoseok was boasting to you about the dream he’d just had, and Jimin was conversing about the recent cartoon on television last night. It didn’t hit you when Jungkook had said it last night that the boys saw you as their own pack member. You didn’t even realize it until Jimin’s voice had melted into concern, blinking at you as others turned away from their conversations and breakfast to regard you with the same confusion and worry.

“Hey, (Y/n), you’re crying, are you okay?”

You remembered Taehyung’s comforting words on the morning after the first attack.

“Family is Yahiko, family is us. That is… if you see us that way…” He said with a meek smile that day, “A family should be a place or people you can go home to and feel safe and loved. Evidently, the Blackwells do none of that.”

Then Jungkook’s words from last night.

“Then don’t hate yourself for being a burden to the pack, you’re not just a guest in our house now, you’re pretty much a pack member. The boys don’t treat you any differently than they would each other.”

Yahiko had been your only family up until now. Then Hyejin. Then Jungkook and the rest of the boys. Without your memories, you forgot what it was like to have a mother and a father, besides the ever doting kitsune who beckoned you to try liver and intestines, siblings and whatnot. Although you did have your mother before your memories were sealed, your coven brothers and sisters barely wanted to associate with you. Until now, you hadn’t thought about how the pack saw you, and you only thought that they were forced to have to keep you around and protect you because on your own, you had nothing and knew only the basis of what you could do as a siphoner. It all seemed obligatory from the start.

Maybe. Just maybe you found a place to belong with them.

“I’m okay… just I’m sorry for causing so much panic yesterday…” You smiled meekly, accepting the napkin from Hoseok and wiping away the wet trails your tears had left in their wake.

Would it be selfish to want to stay?

“Hey, if you’re up for it, we can start some self defense training after you get home from school okay?” Seokjin says, offering a brief hug as the four of you prepare to leave for the day. You reply with a nod, much happier than you were minutes prior.

Would it be too much to want to be with them even after all this is over?

“You’re such a cry baby,” Jungkook comments during lunch with Hyejin clinging to your side, the two exchange menacing leers with stuck out tongue from your best friend and a finger pulling down his eye lid from the male’s part.

“I was being sentimental jerk,” You scoff, forcing your brows to scrunch in mock annoyance.

“You were sentimental enough last night, quit it,” He frowns. In reality, he felt like he was being torn into two at the sight of tears.

Hyejin rolls her eyes at them, “Would you two just make out already or something?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as did Jungkook’s, the ghost of a blush blossoming over his cheeks as he weakly glared at the girl. Jimin burst into obnoxious laughter, Taehyung looking away to very poorly muffle his own chuckle.

I would if I could, you both thought, neither having enough courage to look the other in the eye right now.

No no no, I told him I’d give him time to sort himself out, he has his own imprintee, I can’t just do that, you think to yourself.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you dumbass dog, Jungkook groans inwardly at his own reaction and thoughts. He’d be a liar if he denied wanting to, heavens above he’s wanted to for so long. Only problem was, if he started, he wasn’t sure if he could keep his hands away. Fuck, he was ready to combust right then and there. The image of your lips, their plush pressed against his, setting him on fire the same way he had when he first set eyes on you, stayed engraved into his mind.

The remainder of his classes were spent distracted, half paying attention when he found his eyes drawing towards your form hunched over the desk beside him or even across the room with Hyejin beside you. By the time Potions had come around, he was ready to smash a flask into his face.

To rub salt to injury, Seokjin asked him to help out in training you.

“I know we’re gonna be facing witches, who are more likely to attack using spells, but I just want you to be able to defend yourself if something like those bounty hunters happen again,” the warlock explains as the hybrid fidgets in his spot beside the elder, “We’ll keep studying and practicing some defensive and offensive skills, so you can get the hang of using your magic more often.”

Despite the obvious tension between the two of you, Seokjin teaches you how to punch correctly and to specific points like the inside of the arm. Jungkook forces down his heart in his throat and does his best to be your sparring partner.

Using a spell that covers your flesh in a layer of magic that protects you from the brunt of Jungkook’s punch and kick, Seokjin directs you and guides your body into a balanced stance. It helps make sure you don’t get knocked back too easily, as he fixes the awkward angle of your arm in a better block.

By the next day, Seokjin has you moving onto redirection and throws. You’re still a little sloppy at blocking and dodging, but he smiles and assures you that with more practice you’ll start getting the hang of it. He has Jungkook throwing punches your way for you to use your hand to push it aside.

“Chances are, your attacker might be just a large as this brick wall,” the warlock grins as the hybrid frowns, “And I don’t expect you to be able to lift him with just brute strength, but you can use his weight to your advantage and be able to flip him over your shoulder, as well as knock him down.”

Jungkook can barely concentrate on what the elder is explaining, his senses overwhelmed at the close proximity with his arm around your neck in a mock choke. Your scent invades his nose, the beginnings of a blush crawling up his neck as your fingers curl over his forearm, pulling him down as you spread your feet into a base stance. Your right hand twists around the shoulder of his sleeve, pushing your hips back into his.

“Good good, he’s off balance, now take use of that to step forward with your right and throw him.”

The hybrid is too distracted to realize what’s happening, when his world goes flying and suddenly he’s on his back and you’re on your knees beside him, hands still curled on his arm and shoulder.

“Perfect! Just don’t fall with him too!” Seokin chuckles as you bow in response and offer the wolf a hand. Not wanting to be rude, he gives in and clasps his hand over yours, wincing when his heart pounds at the simple touch of your skin on his. Your skin retreats from his, but the skin of his palm is still tingling with what’s left of your lingering warmth.

Damn the mutt inside him.

“A-are you okay?” You ask worriedly, noticing how spaced out he was.

“I’m fine, that was one helluvah throw though,” He says with a tight lipped smile, knowing he was very well distracted by holding you close like that.

“Alright you two, if you’re done chatting, we can do a few more throws and try some leg sweeps.”

True to his word, you have your left arm splayed across Jungkook’s chest, holding his left arm with your right. Pressing against him, your leg moves forward before swinging back against Jungkook’s, swiping it from the ground. The pressure of your left forces him down, moving your hand the way Seokjin had instructed around his head and guiding him down.

It was exhilarating, although in a controlled and safe environment, you felt confident being able to take down Jungkook. Although he obviously wasn’t putting that much resistance, you felt a little more safer being able to know such techniques.

“How you feeling?” He asks nonchalantly when you get ready for bed that night. The hybrid made it routine to sleep on the floor in wolf form now, only to always end up crawling onto the bed in the middle of the night right after. Despite knowing his clothes were only going to be kicked under the bed after he turns, he settles on the foot of the bed to chat for a little.

You offer him a smile, drying off your damp hair after a much needed shower, “Muscles a little sore, but I’m glad to be able to learn how to defend myself when the time finally comes, you know.”

“That’s good,” He mumbles, unsure what else to say without sounding weird or desperate. Hey I really like the way you slammed me into the ground today or wow you looked so fucking hot standing above me. Oh heavens what even was that last thought?

“You seem pretty versed in fighting, I mean you were always good… not that you were ever bad or anything… you held your own against those two hunters really well… and er… okay I’m gonna shut my mouth now.”

He couldn’t help his own sputter, a small pfft passed through his hand covering over his mouth. The attempts to muffle his amusement failed and he noticed the way you weakly glare at his reaction.

“I enjoyed Taekwondo when I was younger, they were wary of me as a supernatural, so I mostly practiced by myself or with Junghyun, and… after that…” His voice faltered momentarily and you can guess what he was referring to, “I practiced with Namjoon and Hoseok sometimes. Times are peaceful now though, so I never really had a reason to fight seriously until your dumbass came around.”

“Okay, listen, I did not ask to be attacked like this,” You frown at his jab.

“You played yourself for even breathing,” He cracks a subtle smile that you take in greedily. This was good. This was very good progress. You both were talking, and he even showed just a minuscule of emotion. Something was better than nothing at all.

“For someone who’s never had to fight or protect themself, you’re doing pretty well,” He says after a moment of silence, eyes peering over to you, “A little more practice and I might actually feel a pinch when you hit me.” He cracks a mischievous quirk at the corner of his lips with a subtle twitch of his eyebrow.

You however, puff out your cheeks and launch one of his pillows at him.

When Jungkook has long curled up in his wolf form, lying at the foot of the bed while you take up your usual spot on his bed, he’s abruptly awoken by the heavy musk of distress. Marine eyes fly open in alarm, darting back and forth within the darkness of his room. His dry nose twitches in recognition of the obvious discomforting scent. Ears flicking, he raises his head to glance towards the bed where you lay.

As he thought, you’re tossing around, curling into a fetal position. Your breath hitches, eyebrows furrowing from what he can tell in the dark.

Knowing himself, he can’t just leave you alone. Not like he was able to stay away anyways, always waking up curled beside you on the bed for the past few mornings. The lack of self control was astounding.

And just like those nights, he rises from his position, shaking his head briefly before stepping onto the bed. The frame whines at the added weight, mattress dipping as he crawls to your side. Silently letting his large body curl around you, tail swishing in excitement before falling over your form, he settles comfortably. His azure gaze is hooded, watching as you toss once more before finding his warmth and relaxing against him.

What were you dreaming about? He wonders as his mouth opens in a long yawn.

What has you so antsy at night, even when you were long unconscious and deep asleep?

Maybe he’ll ask tomorrow.

Morning falls over the cabin once more, the day passing as you attend school and return to another day of training.

“Alright, hope you know how to clench your teeth, a lot of physical fights end up on the ground, so we’re gonna practice some falls and then some ground fighting.”

Some what?

“Clench your teeth Kookie-ah!”

Tags!! (Let me know if you want to be added or if I forgot you!!)

@twilight-loveer @reinyrei @mistytail @mygukandonlyficrecs @xanny91 @unpocodesoledadywisky @xxqueenwxtchxx @lildemonangele @gukworld @sunnyoongles @serendipity-secrets @ilaria-np @jules-park @treetops68 @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @jeonkooksgirl @coffeeismylife28 @nshitae @bookoffracturedescapes @ellsbells72 @zamirayinyue13 @hannahdearr @tiredjedi @sushibunn @perrshian @lovinggalaxies @ditttiii @cookies-are-done @mintyrae @blackravena @lilacdreams-00

#lustrous #idk if this is good #lolol #but please let me know what you think!!#kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungguk x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook imagine #jungguk x you #jungkook scenarios #hybrid!jungkook #werewolf!jungkook

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