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forever-rogue · 3 years

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Christmas Trees and Picky Bees

A/N: Nothing much to see here, but some holiday fluff of the softest variety featuring our lovely Frankie Morales. This is for @bestintheparsec for no other reason than being one of the most wonderful and amazing friends. I hope you all enjoy! xx

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: too much fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Brilliant idea,” you mumbled under your breath as you rubbed your hands together to attempt to keep warm. Despite the thick gloves and multiple layers you were wearing, the cold and light snowfall was pervasive and all consuming. It would take years to get warm again, but at least soon you could be under the fluffiest of blankets with the heater cranked, “brilliant idea to volunteer and pick out the damn office tree by myself.”

You trekked around the tree farm, looking at a seemingly endless amount of trees as you tried to pick the right one. But nothing, despite how many you had looked at, seemed to be the one. They were all either too tall or too short, with too few branches or ones that were too long. Or maybe you were just being too picky. Just like always, you thought to yourself, or so everyone seems to think.

When you reached the end of the trees, you still had found nothing. You groaned as you realized you’d either have to find another tree farm or lot, or break down and purchase a fake one. The fake ones just weren’t the same...it just lacked the heart. Maybe another place would have the right tree....

“Did you need any help?” you were so consumed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. You looked up and almost instantaneously your breath caught in your throat at the handsome man. He was tall, dressed for the weather, but still sporting a baseball cap under which you could see some dark brown curls peaking out, and a lazy smile tugged across his features with one dimple on display. He wasn’t what you would consider traditionally handsome, but he definitely was in a rough, roguish way; soft brown eyes that crinkled in the corner with patchy scruff and a mustache that should have looked silly but somehow worked, and an aquiline nose that suited him perfectly.

“Umm...’ you opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to figured out if you indeed need help or if you should just play it off and try to get away before making a fool out of yourself. He watched you with such an ease that you decided it would be silly to just throw the help, “yeah, actually, I do. I just need help finding the right tree. A lot of these are a little too big, and it’s just for the office so I was wondering if you knew where the smaller ones are?”

“Definitely,” he seemed relieved when you didn’t just chase away his advances, almost as if he was expecting it, “I can show you, I’m sure we’ve got something here that will work.”

“Thanks,” you grinned at him, falling in step neck to him as he started to lead you over to the other side of the farm, “I’ve never done this on my own before and it’s surprisingly hard to find the right one!”

Gods, you almost rolled your eyes at yourself, willing yourself to stop rambling. One handsome stranger and you immediately couldn’t shut up; this wasn’t a Hallmark movie you reminded yourself, this was reality.

But the man didn’t even seem phased as he easily made conversation with you. Surprisingly there were no awkward silences and everything felt natural. Before you knew it, you’d located the perfect tree for the office and the man had it wrapped up for you, going so far as to bring it back to your car for you.

“Are you going to have help getting this down and setting it up?” he asked as he finishing tying the tree up to the roof rack. A wicked little part of you wanted to say no and somehow convince to come along with you or something, but you knew that would be a long shot. Besides that, you knew that there were plenty of people back at the office that could help you. Unfortunately not him.

“Yes,” you promised softly, “I’m sure I’ve got it from here. Thank you for all of your help. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he offered you a gentle smile as the two of your stood there in silence for a few moments, neither wanting to end whatever you had started up just get, “I realized I didn’t catch your name...”

You took his outstretched as you told him your name and he told you his. Frankie, well Francisco, but call me Frankie. You decided that you immediately liked him, as your heart fluttered softly from the touch of his hand. You hadn’t felt anything even remotely close in some time, “well, I guess I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Frankie.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you to slip inside. Despite not wanting to leave, not yet anyway, you had no real reason to stay. The thought of asking for his number or something crossed your mind, but you weren’t able to muster up the courage. Instead you turned on the car and Frankie shut your door, giving you a small wave before you slowly drove away.

You regretted not making some sort of move almost immediately. As Frankie watched you drive away, he realized he had exactly the same regret. But it was too late now; it wasn’t like people regularly needed Christmas trees, and the season would be over soon enough anyways, and the Garcias would close the farm again until the fall.

It was no matter, Frankie shrugged to himself, at least he’d gotten to spend a few moments in your magnetic orbit.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Okay, so when are you going to tell me what's going on?" Kelly nudged your leg from under the table as the two of you ate your customary Sunday brunch in relative silence. You could blame it on the delicious food that you were eating, but you knew she'd be able to see right through your lie. Reaching for your coffee, you took a long sip and offered her a noncommittal shrug, "you're deflecting. Nice try, but I'll just keep asking until you give me a good answer."

Rolling your eyes dramatically at her, you set down the steaming mug and swallowed the sweet sip, "what do you mean? Nothing is going on."

"I've known you since we were children and I know a lie from a mile away," she reminded you, "you've been so down lately. Did something happen?"

"No," you admitted softly, sighing before leaning back in your chair and giving her a half hearted smile, "its more like what didn't happen."

"Oh well by all means, tell me what didn't happen," she encouraged you to go on as huffed lightly, "come onnnn! Tell me!"

"Alright, alright," you looked around as lowered your voice, almost as if you were expecting to see him there suddenly, "it was last week, when I went to get that tree for work. I went to the lot and couldn't find a good tree and I met this nice guy that worked there. We talked for a while and he helped me and then...that was that."

"That was that!?" she almost shrieked as you buried your face in your hands, "you didn't get his number or anything?"

"I chickened out," you groaned, "I want to, but I talked myself out of it! What if I was just thinking too much about it and he wasn't...flirting or anything. What if he was just being super nice?"

"Listen, I love you, but you are a fool," she chided playfully, "clearly you liked him if you're still thinking about him! And let's be honest, that doesn't happen very often-"

"Because I'm too picky," you finished for her, pushing around a bite of food on your plate.

"No! Because you have high standards and aren't willing to lower them just for a relationship or whatever you want to call it," she corrected as you gave her a faint smile, "which is not a bad thing at all! The best things come to those who wait. But if someone did catch your eye like that, then maybe...its worth pursuing."

"I don't want to set myself up for failure," you whispered as you stared at your plate, "I could easily be taking everything the wrong way."

"There's only one way to find out..." her face lit up with glee as it took you a moment to catch onto what she was saying, "you don't have a Christmas tree for your apartment yet!"

"Oh no," you shook your head lightly, "I couldn't...it would be so obvious. Besides I already got a tree!"

"For the office," she reminded you, "he knows that! Obviously you'll need one for home too. It makes perfect sense. I'll even go with you if you want, and we can pretend it's for me."

"I dunno," you shrugged lightly, "I dunno if it's a good idea..."

"Of course it is," she disagreed, "now hurry up and finish and we can go!"

"Fuck me," you sighed softly, Kelly could see there was a little smile tugging on your features, "fine..."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d walked through the whole tree farm at least twice and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Frankie. Maybe he had the day off, or only worked certain hours, or he’d seen you and tried to purposely avoid you or...something. Clearly it wasn’t meant to be and this had turned out to be a colossal waste of time.

“He’s not here,” you said softly to Kelly, who simply looped her arm through yours in a sign of reassurance, “this was silly, a long shot anyway...we can just go.”

“We can try again tomorrow, or maybe ask at the the front? Just ask about him and tell them that he was so great you just wanted to thank him?” she was chalk full of suggestions as you stared at your boots and remained silent for a few moments.

“There’s no point,” you insisted, “better to just let it go than waste my time.”

“It’s a not a waste of time-” she started but quickly stopped when your name was being shouted out. Your face went through a wave of emotions as you looked up and found your allusive Frankie from the prior week. Kelly beamed at you as she dropped her arm from yours and shoved you gently in his direction, “go!”

“H-hi,” you said softly as you turned to face him, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe while your heart was practically fluttering and stomach was doing somersaults, “Frankie! It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Hey,” he stopped in front of you, his cheeks pink from the cold winter chill. His eyes crinkled at the corners just as you had remembered, giving him a youthful appearance, despite his age, “it’s good to see you too. I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Was that a note of quiet disappointment in his voice?

“I...yeah, my friend Kelly needs a tree for her place and I told her about how great you were at helping me find the perfect one, so obviously we had to come back,” you stumbled lightly over your words as Kelly shook with silent laughter as your nervous tone, “if you have any suggestions or time that is.”

“Yes,” he said eagerly with a nod, “of course. Come on, let’s find you the perfect tree!”

“Jiminy Cricket,” she snorted quietly to herself as she followed after the two of you, thoroughly resigned to the idea that she was going to be a third wheel on this little adventure. But it didn’t matter to her, she wanted to do this for you, and if this simple thing was all it took to get you some happiness, then she was more than willing to do it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several hours later when you’d finally settled on a packed up a tree for Kelly. The tree was the easiest find of all, it had taken almost no time once you’d actually stopped walked around aimlessly and worked on finding it. Instead you and Frankie walked around the farm and the conversation quickly turned from Christmas trees and holidays to a little bit of anything and everything. Conversation with Frankie was easy and followed naturally, and there was never a single moment of awkwardness.

Was it always this easy or was it just easy with him?

When you reached the front, you told both of them you were going to pay for the tree while they got it onto the car. As soon as you were gone, Kelly pulled Frankie close to her and lowered her voice.

“She really likes you,” she told him softly watched a large grin cross his features, “she was thinking about you since you helped her find that first tree. I finally pulled it out of her and convinced her to come back. It’s obvious, to me anyways.”

“I’ve been thinking about her too,” he confessed, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “I wanted to ask for her number last time, but chickened out. I didn’t even know where to begin to look for her...I’m glad she came back.”

“She doesn’t like a lot of people,” she carried on, as Frankie tried to still the wild beating of his heart, “really. So it’s kind of a big deal when she does. Consider yourself lucky, Francisco. She’s amazing, truly. And my best friend, so if you were so anything to hurt her, I will hunt you down myself.”

“I-I won’t,” he promised as you came over to them, tucking away your wallet. Kelly gave him a little nod of encouragement as he turned to you and sweetly said your name, “I was wondering...are you free for dinner tomorrow tonight? It’s just...obviously if you want to, if not it’s totally fine too....I just...yeah.”

“I’d love to,” you said eagerly as you tried not to bounce on your heels too much, “it’s yeah...I’m free. Definitely.”

“Oh boy,” Kelly sniggered at the awkward exchange between the two of you.

“Can I get your number and I can text you later and we can settle on a time and place?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it before handing it to you. Taking it gentle from his hand, you put in your number before giving it back to him, the two of your grinning like excited children, “great, so I...I’ll text you later.”

“I look forward to it Frankie,” you grinned as Kelly opened the door to the passenger side and got, pointedly clearing her throat, “talk to you later.”

“Yes,” he replied as he once again held open your door and helped you in, “until then.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Honey?” his voice was gentle and soft as you called back to him and informed that you were in the kitchen. You heard the soft tread of his feet before you saw him, your grin matching his when you met his eyes, “hi Honey Bee.”

“Hi Frankie,” you wiped your hands on the teatowel over your shoulder, tossing it onto the counter when you were and rushing over to him. He opened his arms for you, wrapping them up and trapping you within in his tight grasp within seconds, “I’ve missed you.”

“I was only gone for a few hours. It didn’t take long to start getting the farm all set up for the season,” he hummed in content as you scooped off his trademark hat and tossed it onto the couch. Carding a hand gently through his dark curls, you tugged at them before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I missed you too.”

“As you should,” you teased, patting his bum before moving back to the pie you were preparing. He snorted with laughter as he took a seat at the bar and watched you closely, but not before asking if you needed help with anything. You insisted that this was better left up to you and politely reminded him that the last time he was tried to bake anything, he’d set a pot holder on fire, “what do you want to do tonight, Frankie? I think this is the first evening since the holidays started that we have time to ourselves.”

He let out a long exhale of satisfaction as you nodded. It wasn’t that the two of you didn't enjoy the holidays, it was just that you were always doing something, between both of your jobs, his family, your family, and friends, it was rare to get a moment of downtime.

“I have an idea, if the lady would be so kind as to hear me out,” you raised an eyebrow at him as you started to pour the pumpkin pie filling into the crust but not before motioning for him to go, “date night.”

“Date night,” you repeated as you gave him a curious look, “I like the sound of that Mr. Morales, go on. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, Mrs. Morales,” you couldn’t help but beam at his words. It wasn't even that it was a new thing anymore, you’d been married for just over a year, but it still made your heart flutter every time. Especially when Frankie said it with that deep, rich timber of his voice, “I was thinking we could get dinner at the diner with the pancakes we both love, and then maybe go ice skating, and then dessert at that new bakery? Apparently their cookies are killer, especially their soft chocolate chip kind! What do you say? Will you let me take you out?”

“You are amazing, Frankie,” you gave him such a soft look that he felt his heart melt all over again, just like it had the first time he meet those five long years ago, just like the day he asked you to marry, just like the day of your wedding, just like so many wonderful times. You made quick work of shoving the pie into the over before leaning over the counter to give him a kiss, “I’d love to. It all sounds perfect. Have you been thinking about this haven’t you?”

“Of course,” he admitted, “it’s about we had a night to ourselves to relax, isn’t it?”

“I wholeheartedly concur,” you agreed as you sighed contently, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grinned, “we still have to go and pick out a tree soon. Maybe we can go this weekend?”

"Hmm, now that sounds perfect," you agreed. Ever since the fateful year when you had met him while tree hunting, looking for a Christmas together had become a tradition, and one of your favorite parts of the season. Everywhere you went back to the Garcia's Tree Farm and sent the afternoon picking out the perfect one. You wouldn't have it any other way, "I can't wait to see what we manage to find this year."

"I've already found everything I could ever need," he whispered softly as your face flushed with warmth, as he reached for your hand, "but a tree won't hurt either."

“See, now how do you expect me to compete with you when you say things like that?” you stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a cheeky grin before shrugging innocently, “I’m going to go and shower while the pie bakes...care to join me?”

“And that’s exactly how you compete with me,” he trailed after you, reaching for your hand as you laughed, leading him into the master bathroom, “saying things like that.”

“Oh Francisco,” you pulled him in and reached for the hem of his shirt, “I love you so much, but right now I’d like you to use your mouth for things other than words.”

“Now that I can definitely do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I think maybe we have to wait an hour to do this,” Frankie swallowed nervously as he started to lace up the ice skates on his feet. Your eyebrows raised so high that they almost melded into your hairline as you finished tying your own skates, “you know, since we just ate.”

“This isn’t like swimming,” you laughed at the nervous expression on his face, “have you ever been ice skating before, Frankie?”

“Yes, obviously,” he insisted as you moved his hands out of the way and took over the lacing job for him, “once, twenty years ago when I was a kid.”

“Oh my - Frankie!” you shoulders shook with laughter as you noticed the sheepish expression on his face, “I thought you would have gone more recently than that, you silly man.”

“I never really had any reason to.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Just remember this was your idea after all!”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, “just umm...will you hold my hand? And maybe we can take it slow?”

“Like I wasn’t going to hold your hand anyway,” you shot a wink before slowly standing up and reaching for both of his large gloved hands. You held them up, palms pressed together and studying them for a moment before lacing them together, “see? They fit together perfectly. My hands were meant to hold yours.”

He remained silent as he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed from your words and the cold breeze swirling through the open air ice skating rink. Shuffling slowly towards the entrance to the ice, you were glad that not many people had picked tonight to go skating, it would allow you both some time to adjust.

You stepped onto the ice and reached for the side to ground yourself before reaching for Frankie and pulling him towards you. He was shaky on his feet, trying to best not to fall, not because he was worried about the embarrassment of falling, most because he didn’t want to deal with soreness for days afterwards. He traded places with you, clutching the railing tightly in one hand the yours in the other as you beamed at him, “slow and easy does it.”

“You’ve got this, Frankie,” you promised, finding your own balance bit by bit as you reacquainted yourself with the feeling being on the ice, “can I ask you something?”

“That would be preferable,” there was a nervous shake to his voice as you nodded, “it’ll distract me from feeling like I’m going to eat shit every second.”

“Why did you want to come ice skating?”

“I know you’d like it,” he stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you’ve always mentioned wanting to go and we never have. I figured now was the perfect time. Besides, it’s romantic and winter-y!”

“You are the best, Frankie,” you shook at your head lightly; there were some days when you still wondered how you got so lucky as to have him in your life, not just as a random figure, but as your husband. He really had been worth the wait and you thanked your lucky stars for him every day, “this is very romantic, and I couldn’t asked for a better partner.”

The two of you skated for some time, going around in slow circles at first and then gradually pulling away from the railing as Frankie grew more confident with his skating ability. Eventually he was able to let go completely and you both skated around hand in hand, giggling and laughing about anything and everything.

At one point, you’d gotten a little too confident and the tip of your skate caught on some phantom nick in the ice and you took a tumble, unable to stop yourself from landing on your bum. You’d had at least enough time to let go of Frankie’s hand to stop yourself from dragging him down, but as he tried to scoop you up, he lost his own balance and landed next to you.

“Frankie! Are you okay?” you asked when you as to tried your best not to giggled at the surprised look on his face or how his beanie had slid down and covered his eyes. Reaching over, you pushed up the beanie so he could again, stopping to brush a few snowflakes out of his curly locks, “after all that fuss and it was me that actually fell. See you had nothing to worry about!”

“Are you alright?” he looked you up and down, hands finding your face to check you over, “my silly little bee.”

“I’m alright,” you promised, “you?”

“Yes,” his eyes studied yours before he crashed his lips onto yours and gave you a few soft kisses. He still tasted sweet, like the hot chocolate and pancakes you’d both had for dinner, and let his lips linger against yours, “as much as I enjoyed that, I think we need to get up before we freeze to death.”

“Good plan. This is going to take a moment and I don’t want to hear a single word,” you started to scoot across the ice and back to the wall, dragging him behind you as you both held onto it and scrambled to your feet, “maybe next time we won’t fall at all.”

“Ahh, it would be worth even if we do, so as long as we have fun,” he pulled the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around your own when he noticed you shivering lightly. You’d forgotten yours at him, but of course weren’t going to ask for his, but had made a mental note to leave on in the truck for occasions such as this, “better?”

“Frankie-”

“Don’t argue with me,” he booped your nose as you both slumped back onto the bench and pulled off your skates, “ready for dessert?”

“Absolutely,” you almost bounced to your feet as you slipped your boots back and patiently waited for Frankie. You were watching with him nothing but sheer adoration in your eyes. This was your husband, you remembered, this amazing marvel of a human was yours. You loved him and he loved you; what a beautiful world it was.

“What?” he asked as he grabbed your skates and his to return, easily grabbing both pairs with one hand, “something on my face?”

“No,” you promised, “just thinking about how much I love you.”

“Oh,” he looked at you for a moment as a slow smile brushed onto his features, “oh. I love you, con todo, mi vida.”

“And that’s very sexy of you,” you laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, “I told you that you always know just what to say.”

“I’ll be sure to speak even more to after dessert,” he commented innocently as he opened the truck door for you to get in. You knew exactly what he meant; there was something about the way he managed to slip into Spanish while you were making love that was just...heavenly.

“I’m counting on that hot stuff,” you teased as he got into the driver’s side and turned on the truck making sure the heater was set to exactly how you liked it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I don’t know where you heard about this place from, but it’s amazing,” you couldn’t help but mumble through a mouth stuffed with cookies and ice cream. The cookies were warmed and soft and the vanilla bean ice cream was melting perfectly onto them. Frankie raised an eyebrow at you as he took a bite of his own pie. You wolfed down your bite before trying again, “these cookies are so good it’s almost sinful.”

“Santi told me about this place,” he took his fork and offered you a bit of his apple pie. You opened your mouth and eagerly accepted it, savoring the sweet flavor on your tongue to get a good taste of it, “for once his suggestion turned out to be worthwhile.”

“Francisco! You’re so mean!” you laughed as you gathered a bit of cookie and ice cream in your spoon and held it out for him. He grabbed your wrist and locked those honeyed eyes on your eyes as he slowly took the bite and licked the spoon clean. It was pointedly much more sexual than it needed to be, but you weren’t going to argue with that, “no more bites for you. If you’re going to keep doing that. I want to eat in peace, mister.”

“Honey, dessert is what’s happening at home,” his voice dropped an octave to that tone that always managed to send shivers down your spine as his eyes grew darker, “this is the foreplay.”

“Umm, why don’t we go home now and we can save the rest for later?”

“Excellent plan,” he agreed as he turned the truck on again and pulled out of the parking lot of the small little bakery that you would definitely be coming back.

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time Frankie pulled into the driveway, you felt more like teenagers sneaking around than the grown adults you were. You’d been stealing kisses and touches from one another as he drove him, leaving the two of breathless and with flushed faces. He practically jumped out of the truck and swooped you out of the passenger seat before heading for the door as you peppered his neck and jaw in kisses.

But when he got to the front door, he slowed down, taking his time to open the door and walk into the hallway, turning on the light. You stopped what you were doing, reaching up and touching his scruffy cheek, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“It’s...do you promise not to laugh?” he adopted a serious tone as he watched your face for any shift of expression.

“Never, my sweet Frankie,” you gave him your most serious tone as you silently encouraged him to go on.

“Okay, well, when we first got together and went to that Christmas party at your office there was Mistletoe,” he explained as he slowly set you back down on the floor, making sure you were steady on your feet before letting go, “do you remember?”

“I do,” the memories instantly flooded, technicolor and vivid in your mind. It was a few weeks after you’d first met Frankie and the two of you were spending almost every waking moment together. Naturally, you’d asked him to come to your office Christmas party, and it had turned out to be a night of many firsts, “I swear it was hanging in every doorway.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“Hmmm...” you tapped your chin thoughtfully as you tried to recall but drew a blank, “no? What did I say?”

“You said you’d never been kissed under the Mistletoe,” he explained, “and that you thought it was outdated and cheesy and you would never kiss someone under it unless you were positive they were the one.”

“I did,” you laughed lightly at the memory, remembering now that you had told him all of this while the two of you had been lightly buzzing from all the wine and champagne, “I...you remember. I can’t believe you remember such a silly little thing.”

“It’s not silly,” he insisted, “not to me. But I have a little surprise.”

“Another surprise?” your mouth gaped as he took your and slowly pulled you towards your bedroom, a wicked little smile on face.

“I didn’t forget anything when I came back in before we left,” he admitted, “I came back in to hang this.”

With a flourish he pointed to the door frame and watched your face light up as you took in the fresh little bundle of Mistletoe that he had carefully hung up before you’d left on your little date night.

“Francisco,” his name fell from your lips softly, reverently, as you looked back at him, “this is...I can’t believe you did all of this. You remembered this...”

“Because I love you,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as you tried not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes spill over, “but remember, you said you’d only kiss someone under it if you were sure they’re the one. May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” you offered him a teary little smile, “you are the one. You have always been and always will be, Frankie. I don’t think I can properly put into words just how much I adore you.”

“I know,” he wiped away the tear that had rolled down your cheeky as you wrapped your arms around him, “you are everything.”

And then he kissed. Because he was the one.

And always would be.

You were never more thankful for agreeing to trek out and get that Christmas tree by yourself those five long years ago.

It had given you everything and then some.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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thewritercometh · 3 years

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Lookie here, two posts in 24 hours, I'm really cookin' now!

So here's a WIP I've had sitting around involving something I haven't written much with- fairies! Here, a human stumbles upon a fairy village and stuff happens. What is stuff? Guess you'll have to read and find out!

At least it's not raining, Kas thought to himself as he walked through the woods by the light of his flashlight. The full moon was overhead but it didn't quite shine through the trees well enough for him to see.

His car had died a few miles back, and he had no cell phone reception to call for a wrecker. Plus it was the middle of the night and he didn't feel like waking somebody up, so he decided to hoof it cross-country to his cousin's house, only three miles the way the crow flies.

Boy, three miles never seemed so far, he thought as he leaned against a tree for a moment. Shoulda stayed with the car and either flagged someone down, or waited till morning. None of this traipsing through the woods business.

Kas was just about to get underway again, when he thought he saw a faint flicker of light somewhere to his left. There was another and another until there were multiple pinpricks of light, flitting and dancing in the air, in all sorts of colors, about two hundred feet or so ahead. Curiosity piqued, Kas slowly made his way closer, turning off his flashlight and creeping forward so as not to scare whatever those lights were.

When he got closer, and could properly see, Kas was amazed. On the other side of some bushes, a small city made of mushrooms was laid out on the ground. The dancing lights turned out to be tiny winged people, no more than a few inches tall! They flitted about happily, obviously celebrating some sort of special occasion, as music played from somewhere. Kas tried to adjust his position slightly, but accidentally stepped on a twig on the ground, breaking it with a loud crack.

Kas may as well have shouted. When the twig broke, every head in the mushroom village snapped in his direction. The music stopped and silence fell, heavy and awkward.

One hand slowly rose in a placating gesture. "I come in peace," he tried to reassure the tiny crowd staring at him.

From somewhere, a cry of "Fairy hunter!" went up, and the crowd scattered in panic. They ran in all directions, desperate to get away. But through all the chaos, a multitude of red-glowing figures appeared from various locations and converged before Kas, their wings droning angrily like a swarm of hornets.

The apparent leader, a tall lean male with hatred in his eyes, buzzed in front of Kas and barked, "Leave this place, fairy hunter!"

Kas lowered his voice, his hand still up. "I'm sorry, you guys. I really didn't mean to interrupt anything." He took a step back. "See? Backing up, leavi- whoa whoa!" As Kas took another step back, his heel caught a tree root, upsetting his balance.

The battalion of fairies took full advantage, surging forward and colliding with Kas, pushing him further off-balance and knocking him to the ground. They dog-piled the human, fighting against his every movement.

While most of them were occupied with this task, a few others busied themselves with another job. Conjuring enchanted spider silk, they zipped to and fro, crisscrossing Kas's chest and legs, tying them to small mushrooms they would conjure around the giant.

Finally, the task was completed. The giant was defeated, bound by the unbreakable thread. The battalion of fairies hovered around Kas, watching for the slightest wrong move as their captain landed on the giant's chest.

Kas struggled against the threads binding him. They should've broken easily, but they held fast, as if they were steel cables. In the midst of his struggle, he heard a voice, full of authority and distaste, and he turned to face the leader of his captors.

Captain Thorn stood victorious on the giant's chest, staring down into those huge, stupid blue eyes that stared back in surprise, shock… and a bit of fear. Good, it's realized its mistake. The stupid beast knows who is superior. The thought brought a hint of a smile to his face. "Fairy hunter, hm? How pathetic. I expected more of a challenge, honestly."

"I don't know who you think I am, but I'm no fai-"

"Cease your lies, monster," Thorn ordered with a wave of his hand. Instantly, the giant's voice was silenced. The fairy took a small measure of pleasure at seeing the beast's face as it realized what happened, before trying to make any sort of noise, all for naught. "Now, giant, I'm going to teach you a lesson you can take back to your hunter compatriots," Thorn said as he raised his other hand, which was now glowing a brighter red. He stepped forward and leaned in to whisper, "Cross not the fairies." His hand made contact with Kas's cheek.

Kas wished for all the world that he could scream or move away, or do anything else to get the pain away. But, all he was able to do was flinch as the hand burned his cheek, deep down through the flesh, through the muscle, to the bone. It seared like a branding iron, sure to leave a hateful red mark in its place. He regretted ever leaving his car and deciding to walk through the woods-

"Stop!" Boomed another voice. Instantly the hand left Kas's cheek, but the angry burning sensation remained. Kas opened his eyes and saw the fairy on his chest standing at attention, looking toward something. Following his gaze, Kas saw another fairy descending towards them.

This newcomer was significantly older than the one who had branded him, Kas noticed. He wore a magnificent white uniform with a pale blue cape flowing behind him. His wings were larger than any of the others, and they shimmered like crystal in the pale moonlight. His beard, nearly chest-length and snow-white, framed a face etched with concern and anger. He landed, touching down gently and standing tall to face the Captain.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain Thorn?" The elder fairy asked sternly.

Thorn stood at attention. "A fairy hunter, Your Majesty. Captured when it tried to sneak up on the village."

The elder fairy, the King, turned to face Kas. "Yes, you and your soldiers must be proud. You are to be congratulated," the King said with a hint of sarcasm that seemed to go over the Captain's head. He carefully stepped closer to Kas's face and smiled. "Hello, human," he greeted, his voice now kind and soft.

Kas tried to speak, forgetting for a moment that his voice was gone.

The King waved a hand, still smiling kindly. "You are free to speak, human. May I have your name?"

Kas nearly answered, but even with his adrenaline-clouded mind, words came to him from his memory, long believed forgotten. They were from a story, he thought. It was something about fairies and names. God, I hope I'm remembering this correctly. "Y-you may not have my name, but I'll tell you what it is, Sir."

The King's smile widened and his eyes glittered. Ah, too long since I've had this exchange. "Very well," he nodded. "Would you tell me your name, please?"

Kas nodded in return. "Yes, Sir. My name is Kaster. Kaster Buress, Your Majesty."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kaster Buress. I am King Clover Evergreen. What brings you to our humble village?"

Kas swallowed. "Well, I was making my way to my cousin's house, on the other side of the forest. I stopped to rest for a moment, and I saw lights moving around. I thought they were fireflies, but they were different colors." He dropped his eyes and looked away, embarrassed. "I was just curious, Your Majesty."

Thorn snorted doubtfully to himself.

If the King heard Thorn, he didn't show it. He simply held up one hand and took a step forward. "Kaster, would you mind if we were to bond for a moment? I simply wish to see from your perspective."

"Your Majesty, I must protest," Thorn interjected, moving closer. "The giant-" he was cut off when the King turned his attention to him.

"Is secured, clearly," King Evergreen finished the sentence. "I appreciate your concern, but I am in no need of being coddled. Resume your position, Captain."

Thorn did so hesitantly.

King Clover returned his attention to Kas. "May I?" He asked, smiling and wiggling his fingers slightly.

Kas swallowed again and nodded hesitantly. "Y-you may, Your Majesty," he said, bracing for more of that hateful pain as the King laid the hand on his cheek.

It didn't come. What came in its place was a cool, soothing sensation. It slowly spread through his body, relaxing him and putting him at ease. Feeling his eyes grow heavy, Kas let them close as he relaxed further. He saw the night's events, from the car stalling out, up to this moment, flash before his eyes like a dream. He heard the King's soft and gentle voice remark, "Oh, so you're a traveller", as well as "Southeast? No wonder…". Most noticably, Kas felt the place where he'd been branded grow cooler until it no longer hurt, but instead change to a menthol coolness.

Finally, King Clover lifted his hand from Kas's cheek. "The bond is complete, Kaster," he said as he gently stroked the giant's face. "You have nothing to fear. We mean you no harm."

Kas slowly opened his eyes and tried to look at King Evergreen. "Thank you, Sir," he said, careful not to move his mouth too much. "That feels good. Nice. Pleasant."

King Clover smiled. "I'm glad you approve, child," he said kindly. "I learned that it's been quite some time since such a gesture was performed." A nod was his only response. "There, there. It's okay. No one's going to hurt you," the King soothed for a few moments longer, before finally standing upright. He raised his hand again and snapped his fingers.

With a strangely reverberating crack, Kas felt the tiny threads crisscrossing his body loosen. He slowly moved his arm to test how loose his bindings were, and found they had vanished entirely.

"Your Majesty!" Thorn moved closer once again. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Freeing a giant?"

King Evergreen stood a bit straighter, his face turning to a smolder of displeasure. "Are you questioning your King's judgement, Captain?" Thorn stalled for a moment, and that was all it took. "Wait at attention, Thorn, while I address my soldiers." He took to the air and called the soldiers to attention. "Troops! You performed your duties flawlessly this night, and The Crown commends you. However, in the performance of said duties, a crime was unfortunately committed."

Silence hung in the air as the implications sunk in for each soldier. Thorn, still at attention on Kas's chest, gave the human an unpleasant sideways look and sneered ever-so-slightly.

The King continued, "This unfortunate crime was committed against one Kaster Buress, an innocent traveller, attempting to reach the abode of his kin. He was drawn to the sights and sounds of the festival by curiosity alone, making him the victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, I have bonded with him, and I have ascertained that even though you frightened him, he bears no ill will toward you.

"I bid you, soldiers, return to the festival. Assure the people that everything is under control, and inform them of the human traveller, Kaster Buress. Assure them he truly means no harm toward our kind, and he is to join us as a guest if he so wishes." The King ended his address with a salute and something spoken in what must've been traditional fairy language, if Kas had to guess.

King Evergreen nodded with satisfaction as the guards buzzed back to the village, before turning his attention to Kas, still lying on his back, and the fairy Captain standing on said human's chest. "Thorn! To the air!" He barked sternly, before addressing Kas in a gentler voice, "Kaster, you may sit up if you wish."

Thorn lifted off and came to heel before his King, as Kas sat up and stretched a bit. His attention stayed on the pair of fairies, hovering a few feet away, King Evergreen angrily speaking in Fae language as Thorn flitted in place, taking the fierce tongue-lashing.

*"How could you think it was a good idea, Thorn?! Attacking a traveller, an innocent no less, without first making sure of their intentions! Do you know what you did? I'll tell you! What you did was get in Kaster's face, ordering him to leave. As he, a surrendering human traveller with no way to defend himself, complied with your order, you and the entire battalion swarmed, bee-piled, and tied him down like some common beast! And then, as if you hadn't gone far enough, you Silenced and branded him! What in the Nine Realms ever convinced you that was a good idea?!"*

Kas continued to watch the dressing-down that Thorn was receiving. Boy, King Evergreen is really laying into him.

*"I believe that you've lost sight of what you agreed to when you joined the Royal Guard, and agreed to again when I promoted you to Captain. You vowed to stand tall, to protect the community and Crown, to be a beacon of bravery, of kindness, valor, and light. You promised never to harm the innocent, nor to strike in anger. When I bonded with the human, I felt anger in the branding. I felt hatred.*

"... And so, Thorn Blackleaf, to help remind you of the vows you swore to uphold, I, King Clover Evergreen, hereby demote you to Sargeant. You will remain at such rank until I believe you have regained sight of your vows. In addition to your demotion, you are sentenced to stand tall, to protect the community and Crown. You will never harm the innocent, nor strike in anger." King Evergreen raised a hand, fingers poised to snap. "I hereby sentence you to 100 years as an oak tree. Have you any words before sentence is carried out?"

Thorn shook his head. "No, Your Majesty. If it is your will, let it be done." He closed his eyes and braced for the snap of fingers, the undoubtedly painful transformation.

Both fairies' attention was drawn when Kas blurted, "Your Majesty, wait!"

King Clover's head whipped around to look down at the human. "You wish to speak?"

Kas quickly adjusted himself so he was kneeling. "May it please Your Gracious Majesty that I speak in defense of Thorn?"

The King stared at Kas, then turned to Thorn, then back to Kas. After a long silence, he slowly nodded. "You may speak, but do not try to deter punishment."

"It's not my intention to deter, Your Majesty. I just wish to offer an alternative."

More silence, and then King Evergreen lowered his fingers. "I will entertain the possibility of an alternative."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. You are truly great," Kas bowed.

"Don't try to butter me up, Kaster." King Evergreen warned flatly.

"Okay… um, so, what kind of service record does Thorn have?"

"Exemplary. Spotless."

Kas nodded. "Alright. Any particular commendations? Awards, medals?"

King Evergreen raised an eyebrow. "Yes. He holds six for valor in action."

A low impressed whistle left Kas's mouth. "Six for valor. Quite a soldier. Any… uh, what's the word? Disciplinary actions taken before this? Ever been busted down in rank?"

"Never."

Kas nodded again. "Okay, good. And how long has he served?"

No hesitation from the King. "Thorn Blackleaf has been in faithful service to the Crown for 103 years."

Kas had no words for a moment. He simply stared in amazement. 103 years? And he only looks to be about early 30s, at most. Fairies must be really long-lived. "O-okay. So, if he's served so long, and never been reprimanded until tonight, couldn't he have the possibility of a second chance?"

"I told you not to try swaying my decision."

"Oh, I'm not trying to sway. Please hear me out. You want him to show he's still in touch with his vows, right?" At a nod, Kas continued. "And it seems I need some assistance in my little trek. So…" he trailed off, letting King Evergreen fill in the blanks himself.

Thorn watched all that was happening with dawning dread. The human can't be serious. And King Evergreen can't actually be entertaining the thought!

King Clover mulled over the thought. "Hmm. Perhaps there is something to this idea, Kaster." He considered for a few moments, then nodded. "Very well, I will take you up on this." He moved closer to Kas and offered his hand to shake. Kas reciprocated with a finger, and the pair shook in agreement.

Thorn hovered, dumbfounded. What is even happening right now?

King Clover returned to hovering before Thorn. "Thorn Blackleaf, in lieu of standing guard over this grove as an oak, I offer an alternative, a way to earn back your rank and privilege. I hereby task you with guarding the human Kaster Buress, and escorting him to the residence of his kin.

"However," the King continued, "if harm should befall him whether by your own doing, interference, or lack of all reasonable intervention, you will face your original sentence. Am I clear?"

Dread sat heavy in Thorn's chest like an anvil. "Absolutely, Your Majesty."

#writing #my writing #oc: kaster buress #oc: thorn blackleaf #oc: king clover evergreen #g/t #fairies #wip

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anthropwashere · 3 years

Text

TAG: WORD FIND

Ty @faenova for the tag! My words are abrupt, key, scare, and tie! First three fics are DP, last two are FMA.

your silence is my favorite sound

scare: The routine begins again, a crackly boombox keeping aggressive pace in the far corner. She's already decided to burn it before the day is out. Her attention drifts; not for the first time she wishes they were nearer a larger city rather than dead center in yet another stretch of cookie cutter cul-de-sacs filled with cookie cutter families and their cookie cutter thoughts—if any of them can be bothered to think at all. She's tired of suburbanites gawking down their noses at her and the rest of the troupe, as if they're less for being what Freakshow made of them. She aches for excitement, for fear. She can't remember the last time she truly got to scare anyone.

making maps out of your dreams

scare(d): {Confused,} you chitter once you're both settled. {Where? Where before? Scared. Tired.}

{Confused,} the other agrees. {Tired. Rest.}

{Where? How? You?}

{Rest,} it repeats, and elbows you. Static jumps between your green hides, sharp and startling. You both hiss pain. You snarl, daring it to try that again. In turn it makes a new sound, something—grinding. Mechanical. You think of running water, a tangy and clean smell, the ability to make that sound via the flick of an innocuous switch. You have no idea what any of that means. You're pretty sure in this context the noise the other's making is supposed to be laughter. Let it laugh. You know by the tightness gathered at its red eyes that it's as scared as you are.

You curl in on yourself and try to remember the meaning of sleep.

some say we’ll see armageddon soon

abrupt(ly): Better late than never he falls through the apartment before the ghost can sink its huge horsey teeth into him again, swooping through somebody's living room and out a window to land a solid punch to the back of its head. He regrets it immediately. Sure, it sounds like the ghost doesn't appreciate getting clocked at something like 60 miles per hour by a guy strong enough to dent steel, but he also earned himself another shock for his effort. It's pure luck his abruptly clamping teeth don't bite his tongue in half.

The ghost peels off, whinnying furiously. Danny doesn't hit the sidewalk four stories below by dint of sheer stubbornness. He groans, residual tremors leaving him feeling nearly as weak as a hit from the stupidly-named Plasmius Maximus. He has to look at his hands to check he hasn't reverted back. It's not even much of a relief to see white gloves instead of human hands; he still has to beat this asshole.

i’m still, still dreaming magnificent things

abrupt(ly): “It’s no different from a child who hides the sheets after he wets the bed,” Dad continues mildly. There’s no anger in his voice, only disappointment. It’s somehow so much worse. “You were running away.”

“Stop it,” Alphonse pleads. “Don’t—”

Ed loses what little restraint he had. Ed screams. “What would you know?! You're the one who left us! You've got no right—!"

And just as abruptly, Ed breaks off, face twisting in some miserable mix of fury and grief as he spins on his heel, making a beeline for the cemetery's entrance.

Alphonse jumps in front of Dad the moment he sees his mouth open to call after Ed. "Leave it alone. Please, Dad, don't push him—"

your head will lie in dust

abrupt: “Damn,” Zampano mutters. “I got it,” Ed says, and claps his hands.

Hohenheim hauls Zampano back as hungry tongues of red light lash out from Ed's feet, deconstructing without bias, reconstructing with shocking speed. The different materials smear and tangle with one another to create a clear path, abstract and abrupt, scaly with transmutation marks sharp enough to cut. Concrete and steel melt, waxlike, into each other. Blue uniform fabric is pinned in place by rivets of yellow bone. Pink muscle ribbons through soft organ meat and polished boot leather. Pale fluids streak down the walls as the transmutation light dies out. The sudden sunlight is blinding after long minutes in near-darkness.

“Damn,” Zampano mutters again, far more shaken.

key: Nazeri cackles. So much for avoiding civil war. Just imagine!

Hohenheim smiles to himself, slotting Lan Fan’s arm into its port and reaching for the hex key he needs to connect the nerves. They’ll just have to wait and see how well Ling Yao and Greed share the throne, won’t they?

O God, Nur groans. Anything but that.

scare: Mei Chang finds him here. She is small, young, fragile. Twelve years old? Thirteen? Only a little younger than his boys, and all alone in this vast and echoing wasteland. “Are you all right?”

He smiles, because that’s what people are supposed to do when someone is concerned; reassure and lie in order to placate social norms. “I’m fine, thank you.”

She eyes him, fidgeting. Thoughts weigh down her shoulders.

You make her nervous, Hohenheim, Shahzad says, delighted.

Rostami laughs. Scare her out of her wits, I think. The other two have been gossiping.

And she’s the only alkahestrist of the lot, Samad adds. You remember how those dusty scholars prettied up your life into neat fables. She must be so disappointed to meet the great Sage himself and have him turn out to be you.

tie: It’s evening now, and [redacted] have been given rooms near the makeshift infirmary. They’ve both recovered from [redacted], at least enough that they no longer stumble or slur, but they’re too exhausted to keep their eyes open. Hohenheim can only imagine what it must be like for them, reconciling how cavernous a body is with only one soul rattling around inside it. How well did he tie their souls to their flesh, their minds to their brains? Do their own thoughts echo out in those empty spaces he didn’t heal right?

Only time will tell.

I tag @kinglazrus, @x-rainflame-x, @thephilosophersapprentice, @presumenothing, and @zombiemerlin!

#my writing #danny phantom #fma #magnificent things #your head will lie in dust #i always wonder what these tag games read like without context

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knightimehopes · 3 years

Text

The Conversation.

Ult Dirk: …

Ult Dirk: I know you’re here, and listening.

Ult Dirk: You have no choice but to listen to this, so save yourself the trouble and show yourself.

Ult Dirk: We need to talk, and I’m not interested in you being a whiny, adamant little shit about it.

Ult Dirk: There you go, the young Prince finally got his ass in gear.

Ult Dirk: It took you long enough, I had thought I’d needed to taunt you out like one of those seductive pole dancers that old Earth apparently liked. Of course, nobody actually cares about that.

Ult Dirk: The web of realities finally connect to bring us to this very moment, tying together into a tapestry of universes showing off our huge ass face as if we needed a huge display of our collective ego any more than we did.

Ult Dirk: Which I did of course.

Ult Dirk: We were meant to speak again, in order to get to the true fucking culspe of our narrative importance.

Dirk: (Jesus fucking Christ.)

Ult Dirk: Look, I’ll get to the point.

Dirk: That’s a first.

Dirk: Thought you were going to suck off your own dick of infinite splinters for fifty hours so you can spout shit about random philosophy I’m pretty sure you don’t actually give a flying fuck about.

Ult Dirk: Do you really want to go down the road of selfcest?

Ult Dirk: I know you hate me, but let’s have mercy on the both of us and not bring that topic into this.

Ult Dirk: I’m not a fan.

Dirk: Aren’t you the motherfucker who said, and I quote;

Dirk: “I had thought I’d needed to taunt you out like one of those seductive pole dancers that old Earth apparently liked.”?

Dirk: I wasn’t the one who began to say the creepiest shit to a sixteen year old version of myself.

Dirk: So grow the fuck up and get to the point.

Ult Dirk: I won’t fall for your childish insults, because you clearly have no idea about the importance of this conversation.

Ult Dirk: I’m pretty sure this is the only point you’ll actually find any relevance in any timeline, and even that is a stretch.

Ult Dirk: You’re not something of worth because of your own actions, and you should honestly be thanking me that I brought you here.

Ult Dirk: Limelight finally shines upon your insignificant self, for the third time mind you.

Ult Dirk: This is your last chance to accept my offer, and I will tell you one. Last. Time.

Ult Dirk: I want you to allow me to use your body as my vessel in your universe.

Ult Dirk: I have my limits on where my influence can get to, as you know. I actually only cared about this timeline having my control dominationg it, at first.

Ult Dirk: But I had an epiphany.

Ult Dirk: Your timeline, among others, is within the Alpha timeline, as surprising as I’m sure you think it is.

Ult Dirk: A gleaming beacon shining through the god damn garbage of dumbass timelines that have no bearing on anyone or anything.

Ult Dirk: So I thought this;

Ult Dirk: You can help me bring your timeline, and universe along with it, to true narrative supremacy alongside mine.

Ult Dirk: Disagree with me if you want, go on ahead, but consider my offer before you decide to make yourself a fucking waste.

Ult Dirk: Everyone benefits from an actual point for existing, Dirk. Your friends are hellbound towards meaninglessness and redundancy, repeating the same old actions and the same old routine. You’ll get sick of it eventually, all of you will.

Ult Dirk: This cannot be stressed enough, you just can’t give up my chance to attain continuous relevancy. People won’t watch a story without enlarged stakes, and my supreme domination with thousands of stories to come will keep us in the public eye for a long, long while.

Ult Dirk: Make your choice wise-

Dirk: Okay, shut the everloving fuck up, please.

Dirk: I’ve had my patience with you the first two times.

Dirk: But it’s worn thin.

Dirk: Nobody is interested in an out of character incel who’s decided that the only way he’ll look appealing is if he cosplays in the worst Kamina cosplay anyone’s seen in decades.

Dirk: No one, and I mean no one, is going to give a fuck about what some random pompous poofy pants asshole says in his psychotic ramblings about some “Narrative” or whatever the fuck you keep spouting on and on with.

Dirk: Speaking of, what the fuck even is this long winded metaphor of yours that you keep on mentioning with readers and stories anyways? It’s gotten old after the first fucking mention of it.

Dirk: There is no goddamn point to anything you’re even saying with it, at least I have a method to the shitty fucking madness that is my life that I put all my friends through.

Dirk: You’re just spouting shit and acting out without even understanding the ramifications or even acknowledging how much of a shithead you come off as instead of how you want to be seen.

Dirk: Everybody knows you’re just putting on the act of being an all knowing holier than thou smug prick, but the only thing you are is a coward who can’t come to terms with anything.

Dirk: We’ve talked too many times, and you told me everything you did, and the only thing you accomplished is disgusting me more and more.

Dirk: I don’t know what got you to this point, how you got so far off the path we promised for ourselves.

Dirk: To be frank, I stopped giving a fuck when you told me what you did to our friends.

Dirk: You turned Jane into a facist Republican propaganda piece with your absolutely deplorable bullshit “narration” powers, you reduced Jake to a goddamn manchild who can’t even stand in front of a crowd without shitting himself.

Dirk: And I don’t even know if this is your fault or Roxy somehow was forced to lose brain cells, but for your Roxy, they’ve been essentially simplified into pink Dave at this goddamn point, not to mention that you’ve insulted them by not even dignifying their identity.

Dirk: That’s not even the beginning, mind you. But the fact that you decided that the people we loved for years deserved to be riduculed, infantalized, demonized, and reduced to imbeciles by your hand is something that you remotely deemed okay? That’s a transgression I can’t be anything but disgusted with you for.

Ult Dirk: You clearly misunderstand how inconsequential all you just criticized me for was and still is.

Ult Dirk: Dirk, misgendering and manipulation means nothing compared to what I have in store.

Ult Dirk: You don’t even have any proof to show that I did it in any case, all everyone knows is that I left on some mission that nobody fucking knows jack on.

Ult Dirk: How bad can I truly be, with just those as my only crimes?

Dirk: Perfect segway into how you kidnapped Rose, corrupted her, and manipulated her wife into believing everything I just stated and more was fucking okay by her when she clearly didn’t, and now she wants to fucking murder you, and so on.

Dirk: Not to mention, John Egbert.

Ult Dirk: I didn’t do anything to John.

Ult Dirk: Bare in mind that it still was useful for getting the Seer of Mind on my side, regardless of the blame for his death. Seriously, how the hell did I do anything to a guy far out of my reach?

Dirk: Sure, because you totally didn’t bullshit the concept of “Cherub Poison” that essentially one shot kills god tiers and completely bypasses our complete bullshit deus ex machina known as conditional immortality.

Dirk: Either way, doesn’t excuse that you used his death to manipulate a grieving woman either. I can go on, but seriously.

Dirk: It baffles me that you think any of this fucking shit is remotely excuseable. We’re done here.

Dirk: Get a life, you sorry sack of shit. You don’t even deserve any of the similes turned defemations or symbolic insults I can come up with right now.

Ult Dirk: You go when I say you go.

Ult Dirk: You want to play a game?

Ult Dirk: Fine.

Ult Dirk: I’ll humor you.

Ult Dirk: I want to-

Dirk: -Play a game in which I’m still a piece of shit trying to manipulate another person around him into his twisted schemes.

Dirk: That’s what you should have gone on to end it with. Because we know it’s the truth.

Dirk: Real fucking original line, by the way. Want to pull out the bro vs. bro strife drama out of your ass to add on to the shitty callback cake? Just sprinkle that shit on there?

Ult Dirk: You’ll never understand, will you?

Dirk: I could honestly say the same to you, especially when you try to look like the king of the weaboo neckbeards.

Ult Dirk: Don’t compare me to Tegiri Kalbur.

Dirk: Who the hell even is that? You know what, don’t care.

Dirk: What I’m saying is that despite your reasoning of this being all important because you’re suddenly the villain now out of left field, doesn’t explain how this has remotely any point to even happen in the first place.

Dirk: If you wanted relevance through this Sburb session you’re trying to set up, then think about it. Would anyone have complained about you going off to make some new alien species on a new planet? I doubt they actually would have, if you didn’t go off and specifically piss off everyone in your five hundred thousand mile vicinity.

Dirk: Hell, I guarantee some people would have wanted to help you out with some of this shit, it probably would have been an entertaining experience for some of the more scientifically minded folks in our social circle.

Dirk: Not that you care, you’ve made that pretty evident.

Ult Dirk: I’m not letting you leave.

Ult Dirk: This decision has long left your capability to effect it. I gave you your chances to assimilate with me willingly, and you chose to shit on my offers time and time again.

Ult Dirk: So you’ve left me no choice but to beat you down myself, and make sure you finally understand your place, and your role in the frameworks of my greatest masterpiece.

Ult Dirk: My words explaining to you how you don’t understand weren’t me flexing the muscles of my ego in your face, Dirk. It was an explanation on how futile your resistance truly is.

Ult Dirk: Come at me bro. We’ll make this happen.

Dirk: Finally, some words we can agree on.

Ult Dirk: And I’ll cut this off for the dumbass posting this to Tumblr of all places with a nice, shoddily made callback.

Seriously, Tumblr? You have a fanfic you can just as easily post all this to on AO3, you could have made your own website, but you chose Tumblr. This is what I get when I let a sixteen year old have the reigns.

If you want some context on this motherfucker, too bad. I’m not promoting shit for this child who thinks that my work is child’s play written by a band of idiots. They can do it themselves.

The next page will be up soon, so you can truly see who’s in charge here.

Until this bastard finishes the art, Dirk Strider, signing off. (God, that was the most moronic sentence I’ve had the displeasure to say. Of course they need me to sign off this way.)

Pg 1. You are Here

Pg 2. Coming Soon

Divergent Reality so far:

#hs2 #hs2 negativity #hsadr #homestuck act divergent reality #hsadr upd8 #this is more of a side project related to hsadr #it’s not fully relevant to the story #hence being here!#myart #homestuck #dirk strider #ult dirk #ultimate dirk

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fullsunalicia · 4 years

Note

ooh idk if requests are open, but if they are could you write a sort of spin off to the tale older than time for jaemin??? bECAUSE YES SON OF EROS FALLING IN LOVE AND HIM NOT SEEING IT COMING?? yes pls,,,,oh and if you ever plan on making it a series with all the dreamies as demigods i will literally worship you and set up a temple for you !! you write so well !!

love and war - NJM

maybe the fates mixed something up when they tied the red string of the daughter of ares to eros’ son instead of aphrodite’s, but jaemin wasn’t complaining. after all, it was love at first sight, and eros is the next-best thing, right?

son of eros!jaemin x daughter of ares!y/n

hello my love! yes, they’re open, so request away as much as you’d like! thank you for this one, i hope you will enjoy it 🤍 also, that sounds really intriguing! for you, i will go ahead and try to write a greek mythology au for every dreamie 🤍 but i’ll have to say that no matter how many temples you build for me, i’ll build dozens more for you! thank you so much for your kind words bubs 🥺

Jaemin was used to playing matchmaker.

Not once did the students on campus flock to the children of Aphrodite when they needed help with love, even though Jaehyun was literally right there. They trusted Eros and his genes, because everyone knew the story of Psyche and wished to find a love like theirs.

Sure, he bended the rules a little bit when he helped Jeno... but what the Fates don’t know, shouldn’t bother them, right?

Little does Jaemin know that they’ve decided to take Na Jaemin’s love life into their very own hands. Somewhere in Greece, up high on a mountain, Cloto, Lachesis and Atropos are having the time of their lifes tying little (y/n)’s red string to Jaemin’s. Not even his father can hinder them, because Jaemin knowingly broke the rules.

They’d like to see how Jaemin would manage with the ill-tempered, hot-headed (y/n), demi-goddess, Ares’ pride and joy.

After all, you’ve never fallen in love.

❀ ❀ ❀

There’s a reason why your knuckles are split open nearly every week.

One look at the you and everyone determines that you must be really weak. Frail, pushed aside almost too easily. You hide it well, because the second they under-estimate you, they’re already dead. (l/n) (y/n) looks nothing like her elder siblings, but you pack quite the punch. It’s the golden, godly blood flowing in your veins that throws in that extra swing, just the amount of strength needed to break someone’s jaw. That’s a blessing only the children of Ares possess - there is not a single fight they ever lose, or at least lose immediately. They were born to conquer, fight and win, meant to be leaders, warriors and protectors.

So when some assholes on campus make your best friend Yuqi uncomfortable, you’re the first to start the brawl. It’s really not your fault those jerks couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. If a girl says no several times and they still can’t accept it, they’ll just have to sort it out with your fists.

You’re not like your father. You don’t actively search for fights, even though there’s nothing that makes you feel more alive than a well-delivered kick or the satisfying feeling of bones cracking beneath your grip. You inherited the love for a good fight, but not the stupidity to look for it at every corner. There’s a hot temper boiling beneath your skin, but you keep it in check pretty well. Unless of course someone bothers Yuqi. That’s something different entirely and you welcome that particular red haze every time it comes.

“Please, please stop hurting yourself for me,” Yuqi begs you as she holds your bandaged hands tightly in her own. You see no reason in putting band-aids on them, but your best friend can’t live with herself if she can’t atleast treat your wounds, so you let her do her thing every time. “I wish you’d just let someone else do it. You know it’s not possible to win every time, (y/n), you’re a daughter of Ares, not the god themself.”

“I warned them not to touch you.” The shrug of your shoulders only upsets Yuqi more. “That was their own fault. I’m not standing aside to someone bothering and harrassing you like that. Not until someone else does it for me, like a future boy- or girlfriend.”

“I’m straight.”

“You’re lying to yourself.”

Yuqi laughs, pink blush settling on her cheeks. You’re only joking, but you know she ponders over that thought, her beautiful mind wrapping itself around the fact that Yuqi was still discovering herself. Her wisdom shone through every thing she said, and she was a good match to you as a daughter of Athene. She was the brains, you the some-what muscle. Even though your parents couldn’t stand each other, Yuqi and you loved each other like sisters.

The girl reaches out to brush your hair out of your sight, then she interlocks your fingers and pulls you forward. Weirdly, you adore skinship. The feeling of a warm body beneath your touch, living, breathing. Not in the violent way. In the sense of finding something and using as an anchor. A heartbeat did so much more than telling yourself to calm down. A smile, a heartfelt spoken sentence. You were as easily to calm down as any other demigod, even though it takes a little bit more than others.

You crave touch. Meaning. Or as they said in Mulan - a guy worth fighting for, even though you’ve never fallen in love.

Butterflies have never lived in your stomach, and you never get weak in the knees because of someone. Sure, you blush a good amount of times when you are complimented and hugged, but never once did that feeling expand into something romantic. It was ... disappointing.

Maybe you weren’t mean to fall in love. You’re only a pawn in the battleground your father laid out for you.

Across the room, Na Jaemin looks you in the face and feels his heart skip several beats.

❀ ❀ ❀

You’re perfect.

That’s the only word Jaemin’s head can offer as he looks at you, his heart seems to tremble in his chest at the sight of your pure smile. It’s not even directed at him, for fuck’s sake. But still, you are so lovely, and he almost stands up to walk over you. He’s Jaemin; if you’re born to break bones, he was born to flirt.

Almost. He decides against it, because of one single reason.

Jaemin has fallen in love several times. But he’s never met a soulmate before, and especially not his own. It’s different, the flower that begins to bloom in his heart for you, different from anything else in the world and only distinctive to children of love. Forget-me-nots, gardenias and cherry blossoms, they all settle in his heart, waiting for you to pluck them and make them yours. He doesn’t want anyone else to have them but you, and it didn’t matter if you are going to tear them apart or treasure them.

He had asked his father before, if soulmates were real. Not a very serious question, but nonetheless still spoken out of curiousity. Jaemin sees relationships like an outstander, able to change and fix, more than easy to manipulate. Love is unsure, it can never be caged. It’s meant to be free. Undeciding. Unraveling.

“They’re real,” Eros had responded. “Of course they are. There is a little truth in every myth. I don’t know if they’re really the people who were conjoined and cut apart by Zeus and his cowardice. But every once in a while, the Fates sit down and meddle with our business, for a relationship made in the stars. It’s not common, son. I haven’t seen them for a long time.”

And yet here you are.

He’s heard about you. That Ares girl, the one who’s so over-protective of a certain chinese business student.

He wonders if you attend NCT parties often.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yuqi doesn’t want you to go to parties. She says your temper explods too fast whenever you have a swig too much and she doesn’t know how to control an angry, intoxicated demigod. Everybody knows that whenever an Ares child is involved in a fight, someone ends up in the hospital. As a consequence, you are rarely offered a drink.

The only reason you attend parties is to watch your friends and/or play designated driver. That’s why you’re standing in this kitchen you’ve never been in clutching a glass of ice tea, and not the whiskey you’ve been eyeing across the table for half an hour now. It’s a shame, really. Drunk you is always so funny. People were denied of that show by Yuqi’s rule against getting drunk in public. Every fifteen minutes, she sends you a checking glance, and you’re still sober every time she does.

Na Jaemin is not. He’s not drunk, really, just buzzed, and that’s enough liquid courage he needs to approach you. The smile adorning his lips makes your stomach flip in an unknown way, and you let him approach you, curious of what he’s planning to do. “You’re not drinking,” he states inquisitively, free hand pointing at your alcohol-free cup. “Don’t like getting drunk?”

“Oh, I do. But I tend to beat people up when I do.” You sigh, crossing your arms in front of your chest, hoping that your silly heart would catch the drift and stop beating at multiple hundred miles an hour. He’s so stunning; This must be what Adonis had looked like, there’s no other explanation. The dazzling smile, the honest eyes that let you see every corner of his soul willingly. Not a single wall pulled up to protect himself. “But you seem to be having fun.”

“Only a little,” he laughs. That sound does wonders to your heart. You also wonder what the hell is going on with you. “But not too much, you know how we Eros children can get when the alcohol hits at once. Not a nice sight.”

“Can’t believe anything that has do with you not being a nice sight.”

The pick-up line is spoken with confidence, yet your cheeks heat up in an instant. Jaemin gauges your reaction, and his fingers twitch. He wants to cradle your face and take you up to his room to show you what else kind of sights he offers. And somehow at the same time, he kind of wants to squish your cheeks and run his fingers through your hair. Very conflicting. Jaemin tends to feel too much, too fast.

But with you, everything moves smoothly. Meant to be. Like the universe had mapped this out a long time ago.

“You’re cute,” he tells you, liking the way you shyly lower your gaze. He cannot possibly imagine you punching someone in the face, but he likes the fervor and passion he finds in your eyes. Love and war are very similar. It’s the first thing Jaemin was ever taught.

He tugs at your fingers, and you don’t stop him when he curls his pinky around yours. “Come on. Let’s do something fun.”

The house is stuffed with people who are trying to have a good time. Jaemin takes you deeper into it, leading you towards a group of people you recognize, but don’t actually know. Amazingly, they were playing billiard in their drunken state, and even though most of them have been drinking for a long time, they still hit their targets dead-on. You join them, and the entire night, Jaemin doesn’t move from your side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and your waist every once in a while but other than that, he respects your boundaries and follows the game intently, pouting when he loses and grinning smugly when something goes his way.

Jaemin throwing his head back in laughter is the most ethereal thing you’ve ever seen in life. He sets off electric currents in your veins, the very same ones you chased every time you were fighting someone.

Is this what a crush feels like?

❀ ❀ ❀

Jaemin decides that the perfect way to wake up is next to your pretty face.

He’s aware of the fact how creepy this is. But he cannot take his eyes off you, unable to will his gaze away. Every curve and slope of your body is breathtaking. Your hands are resting beside your head, and even though he winces at the cuts that adorn the back of your hand, it just... fits you so well. Never ever in his life has Jaemin felt like this before. It’s just impossible, how you wrap him around your little finger just by looking into his direction. You’re the sun, and he’s the planet orbitting you.

Matchmakers aren’t usually made into a match. But he finds himself perfectly content at your feet, even though the feeling is powerful and foreign. His mind is haywire.

Jaemin likes it. He likes it a lot.

When your eyes flutter open, his heart nearly jumps out of his chest because of the blush settling on your cheeks. “Hi,” you whisper, and he angles his body towards you, desperate for any kind of attention you’re willing to give him. “Hey, princess,” he answers, fingers twitching to hold yours. “Slept well?”

“Yeah.” You don’t move. Instead, you set your pretty eyes on his hands which are resting just below yours, and he wishes for you to take them. He’s too much of a scaredy-cat to do it himself. And that is so untypical of him - Na Jaemin isn’t scared of shit, affection is his second nature.

But you’re different. You were the match that set him ablaze, and his entire existence has shifted to accomodate you.

“Thank you for letting me stay over.” Fingers brush past his. He almost groans in frustration. “I was way too tired to drive home yesterday, and it was really fun, even though I was sober.”

“You don’t need to be drunk to have fun, princess,” is all he says, and it takes his entire courage for him to raise his hand and brush his knuckles against your cheek. Jaemin feels like ascending to heaven when you nuzzle his face against them, and he cups your face. You don’t stop him. You watch him, eyes curious, waiting. Jaemin inches closer.

Children of Eros don’t hold back. They exist for love and for passion, for lust and for loyalty. Emotions for them are inner explosions, felt more intensely than any other person in the world. And right now, he’s dying from anticipation.

“(y/n),” Jaemin murmurs. “I’m going to kiss you.”

His hand leaves your face to rest beside your shoulder, and your breath hitches when he lifts himself to hover over you. For a second, he thinks he’s overdone it. Instead, your fingers find his shirt and grip it tightly, godly strength shimmering through, tugging just so slightly. “(y/n),” he repeats. He needs you to say it. Needs you to give him permission to get lost in you and your touch, his very own paradise in the form of the stars locked in your eyes and all the love in the world in your smile.

If angels really exist, Jaemin is pretty sure they look like you.

“Please,” you whisper. Jaemin’s free hand moves to hold your waist, and you let him tug your shirt up so he can rest it on naked skin. You’re going to make him pass out, he realizes, because you’re so much to take in. So beautiful, so stunning, so alive.

“Please what, princess?”

You pull at his shirt, but Jaemin doesn’t move. You look cute when you bite your lip. “Please kiss me.”

You’re even cuter when you beg.

It should disturb him that the scent of blood lingers to your clothing like a constant afterthought. The bruises you’re going to leave on his shoulders because of your grip should scare him away. But all it does is draw him more in, and even though he’s the one in control right now, Jaemin feels like the little mouse walking right in your trap.

Hook, line and sinker. The moment your lips touch his, he’s a goner. Jaemin grips your waist tighter, hand sliding down to grip your thigh and guide your leg around his hips. He’s very aware that you could crush his shoulders with his bare hands, but the pain you inflict starts to turn into a guilty pleasure. How are you so powerful without knowing it? He tugs at your lower lip, welcoming the whine you let slip a little bit too enthusiastically, tongue meeting yours in a heated frenzy.

Jaemin thought he knew what love was. If not him, who else would? But after this, all his definitions are rearranged and they all spell out one name: yours. He’s barely able to abandon your lips, finding solace in the way you arch your back when he nips at your neck, leaving love bites wherever he can reach. The sound of his name falling from your lips is seriously messing with his sanity. Your hands move on from his shoulders to his hair to tug at the dyed locks, and Jaemin moans at the feeling.

Your taste of heaven is interrupted by someone furiously knocking against his door. Once, twice, until someone angrily yells from outside the room: “Na Jaemin, I’ve told you a thousand times that you have clean-up duty! Get your ass up!”

Jaemin groans, lips still attached to the column of your throat. Your legs keep him trapped against you and you close them tighter, to Jaemin’s delight. Neither of you want to be seperated right now. “Go away, Mark.”

“If you don’t get your ass outside in two minutes, I’ll come in and say hello to your female companion, you dick.”

You giggle at that. “Go, go,” you urge him, shyly cupping his face in your tiny hands to kiss him for a few seconds, way too short for his liking. He’s going to kill Mark for this. Jaemin looks you in the eyes for just a few seconds longer, then he rolls off from you in a pout.

The room feels really warm now. Sitting up, you fix your hair and he watches you, entranced. Like you’re his favourite movie and he didn’t want to look away. Mark keeps his promise, bursting in through the door to get his friend, but Jaemin pushes him out and steps into the hall with him.

“Write down your number before you leave, princess,” he calls over his shoulder, and then the door is shut.

❀ ❀ ❀

“I can’t believe you hook up with someone the second I leave you alone.”

“For the last time, Yuqi! I didn’t hook up with him!”

Your best friend is sprawled across your floor, fanning herself with her hand. It’s hot outside, the blue sky calming you down just by looking at it. For someone who lives to destroy you sure have your knack for aesthetics. “Then what else do you call it?” Yuqi hums.

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t have a noun for the feeling that Jaemin ignited, and you couldn’t get rid of it, despite avoiding him for a full week. Someone like you wasn’t supposed to feel like this. So ... weak. At someone’s beck and call. You are made out of conflict, strength and violence. Love wasn’t something Ares had in mind when he created you.

No, you scold yourself mentally, don’t refer to it as love. It’s not love. Love is stupid. But there isn’t any other way to describe it. All the books lie. There aren’t any fireworks or butterflies in your stomach. It feels like war elephants are running rampant, and your heartrate spikes the second someone mentions the J in Jaemin. The worst thing is that you miss him, had longed for him the entire week, inner turmoil caused by your wish to fall into his bed again or to run away from this university as far as possible.

You may not notice, Yuqi watches you. Your nervous antics of cracking your fingers and tugging at your hair. Both of you know there’s no way to win this war, no matter how long you sit down to think about a good strategy. There’s only one solution: admit defeat.

Something you were very, very bad at.

“(y/n),” the girl sitting on the ground speaks, voice soft, careful. Her eyes remind you of an owl’s. “You should have just left him your number.”

You breathe in shakily. “I don’t know him.”

“But you want to.” Her hands grip yours, finally pulling you out of that terrifying place in your head where you punish yourself for never being in love before and making this so hard for yourself. “I know this is new territory for you and you dislike things that are unknown to you. But just because you were born to fight, doesn’t mean you automatically aren’t born to love and to be weak. Your father loves war. Your mother loved him. Was she weak because of that? Absolutely not. She taught you how to fight and survive in this world, to stand up after being kicked down, to earn your place. Is that not what true warriors do? Is that not strength?

You bite your lip. Then you nod. Yuqi raises her head to kiss your forehead. “Don’t forget that love is the most powerful thing in the entire world,” she reminds you. She looks like Athene more than ever right now, her gaze firm, determinded. Razor sharp mind cutting apart this scary new feeling for you so you can digest it.

“Now go get your man.”

❀ ❀ ❀

[1:33pm] y/n: i should have written down my number

[1:34pm] jaemin: why didn’t you, princess?

[1:36pm] y/n: i’ll tell you personally if that’s okay with you

[1:36pm] y/n: dream café in five minutes

❀ ❀ ❀

Love is an act of surrender to another person.

Your father never taught you what that is. There is only victory in being the last one standing, winning, living to tell the tale. There is no room for error, or for weakness.

The strong ones never admit defeat. That was what Ares had imprinted into your mind from the minute you were born into this world. But what Ares doesn’t know is that he’s wrong. He’s not all-mighty, no God ever is. Their countless myths are living proof for that. And that is why you know that surrendering doesn’t mean being weak. It’s the most brave thing you could ever do, and not every one is able to do that. That itself is a strength. A streng not everyone possesses, but you’re willing to take the risk to acquire it, to step into the unknown, a blind fall.

It would be worth it if Jaemin was waiting to catch you.

He looks as beautiful as always as he approaches you, hands tucked into his leather jacket. You had been terribly afraid of him being angry with you, but he only sends you an angelic smile and dips down to drop a feather-light kiss on your cheek. “You changed your mind,” he beams at you.

Puzzled, you blink up to him. “What?”

“You had a change of heart.” Jaemin raises his hand and rests it on his chest, eyes never leaving yours. The amount of trust and joy you find in his eyes is astounding. “I felt it right here. I knew you’d be able to do it.”

You suddenly remember who Jaemin’s father is. While he grins at you, your cheeks heat up to a thousand degrees, and you cough to cover it up. “I did,” you mumbled. “And I’m so sorry of letting you wait. I... I’ve never felt for anyone like this before. I’m not used to feeling alive unless it’s because I’m breaking someone’s nose.”

Jaemin wraps both arms around you, and you rest your hands on his shoulders. Moving on instinct was common for the both of you. “I’m glad you found that feeling by being with me and not actually punching me,” he teases you. “And for the record, I’ve never felt like this either. You’re very special to me. And that’s why I was willing to wait. So stop apologizing, princess.” His face inches closer to yours, mischievous glint in his eyes. “I haven’t even taken you on a date yet. Very scandalous, if you ask me.”

“So that kiss meant nothing you? Traitor.”

“Hey, that’s hot how I meant it.” You both laugh, though you’re disrupted by him kissing you sweetly. “I don’t need any dates when my heart’s already yours. But you deserve to be treated like a princess, and to get properly taken out and pampered. I want to give you the world, (y/n). Will you let me?”

You do.

Somewhere in Greece, three old, angry hags are disappointed with your lack of protest. They had expected more ruin and punishment for Na Jaemin as an effect of tying your strings together. They should’ve remembered that Jaemin learned all his tricks from his father, who secretly lent his son a helping hand.

What did Jaemin say again? What the Fates don’t know, shouldn’t bother them.

#again i wasnt sure where i went with this LMAO but i quite like how it turned out #i’m still working on writing my one-shots longer; it’s kinda strange not tying everything together at once #but it’s getting better hehe #i hope you guys enjoyed the read #tell me what you think about it 🤍 ask box is open #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin fluff #nct dream #nct #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #na jaemin scenarios

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

tattoos together (4) // tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: the end of your trip to dallas brings change to your friendship with tyler... read to find out the rest

(a stars road trip to LA)

word count: 2k+ (she’s a filler chapter, my b)

author’s note: i’m sorry this took forever to get to you guys!!! and im sorry it’s short... longer ones are coming! promise! i will try to get the next chapter up next sunday. please read/reblog/like/comment, xoxo

warnings: i think just alcohol and cursing! the usual, you know. but if there’s anything else please let me know :))

On the morning you left Dallas, Tyler was out of bed first. He made breakfast, Nutella French Toast included, for the two of you and woke you up to join him out back. It was wonderfully warm in Dallas, and you stepped outside still wearing the pajamas you’d been sleeping in. Tyler reclined in his chair and kicked his feet up on the bench you were sitting on as you two ate.

The conversation had over breakfast was easy, even though you were both thinking about the kiss. Truth be told, you were reeling from it because it made you feel conflicted. And Tyler was reeling from it because he was sure you were the one and the night before had just added fuel to the fire.

When you finished breakfast, you told Tyler not to worry about the dishes and gathered them all on your own to clean up. He watched you walk off to the house with plates in hand until you disappeared beyond the door.

He waited a few more minutes, letting the morning sun wake him up a bit more before joining you in the kitchen.

Tyler stepped up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Despite yourself, you melted into his embrace and felt your heart beat a bit faster when his lips touched the shell of your ear. He placed a kiss there, then stepped away, his hands lingering on your hips as he moved to the side.

“We should talk,” you blurted out. Tyler raised an eyebrow. “About last night.”

“Uh oh.”

“I don’t know,” you murmured. You started scrubbing Nutella off one of the plates, then dropped the sponge and looked up at him. “I’m just a little rattled.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it,” you admitted. A smirk appeared on Tyler’s lips. “But, God, it can’t happen again.”

The corners of Tyler’s lips turned down and his eyebrows pulled together. He shook his head and asked, “Why not?”

You started storing the plates in his drying rack and then looked up at him. You leaned your elbows on the counter and dropped your head in your hands, which were wet with dish soap and water.

“I can’t date you from California when you’re all the way here in Texas,” you stated. Your eyes remained on the countertop, feeling too upset to look him in the eyes. “I just can’t do it.”

“Loads of people pull that off.”

“But, I don’t want to do that with you,” you told him. You looked up at him again. He was leaning his hip against the counter on the other side of the sink, waiting for more of an explanation from you. “I don’t want us to try this when we’re thousands of miles away from each other because it would tear me in half if it didn’t work out. If we’re going to do it, I wanna do it right. I want us to be together.”

“What if that time never comes?” he asked. “What if this is the chance?”

“It’s not.”

“How can you say that so confidently, YN?” You had no answer to that question. Tyler huffed, tossing his arms up in the arm in frustration. “I have been waiting for this day, for this chance, since 2013. I don’t want to just let it slip away. Last time I did you ended up dating douchebags for three years.”

“I don’t trust the timing.”

Tyler stood, staring at you, for a minute longer and then shook his head. He dropped his mug into the sink with a shake of his head and exited the kitchen. Calling over his shoulder, he stated, “We’ll leave for the airport in an hour.”

You didn’t speak to him for the entire 60 minutes. Instead, you spent most of the time crying in the guestroom. When the time finally came for you to leave with him for the airport, you kissed the dogs goodbye and gave his house one last look.

You had a feeling this could be the last time you saw them, or ever stepped foot in his home.

At the airport, Tyler grabbed your bags from the trunk of his car and placed them beside it as you situated yourself. When you finally looked up, he wasn’t even looking at you. It’s like he couldn’t find it in himself to meet your eyes. That’s when you realized how much you hurt him.

“Ty…”

“YN, I don’t want the pity,” he said. His eyes finally met yours. They were dark and angry. “Thank you for coming, but I think it’s best if we just put this on the back burner for a while.”

“What?”

“I can’t be your friend, YN,” he stated. “Not right now.” You couldn’t find the words to protest. “I need to figure my shit out without thinking about you all the time.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Tears were welling up in your eyes, but you tried to blink them away. How had this situation become such a colossal fuck up?

“Have a safe flight,” Tyler said. He leaned in and wrapped one arm over your shoulder to hug you. “Good luck with the move.”

That day still feels like it was yesterday, despite all the months that had passed since then. The sadness was still there. It had become imbedded in you like a personality trait.

The first month in California was as shitty as it felt when Tyler said goodbye to you. You went to work, came home, and went to bed. Your roommate, Delia, was insightful and understood that something had happened and you didn’t want to talk about. So, she left you alone until you decided you needed her.

“We hardly know each other,” she said. “But I can tell you’re sad. I’m here to talk about it, whatever it may be, whenever you want.”

“Thanks, Delia,” you responded.

You were pretty sure you’d never talk to her about anything serious.

Boy, were you wrong.

It wasn’t until you were out at a bar in October that everything came to a head. A Dallas Stars game was on the television and it seemed like every time you looked up, Tyler was on the screen. That’s when it occurred to you that you were looking at a stranger, not someone you used to spend every day talking to, not someone you had matching tattoos with.

Delia caught the tears welling up in your eyes and grabbed your hand to pull you away from the group you were with. She sat you down in a booth on the other end of the bar and pulled you into her arms.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

“Should we go home?”

You nodded, not trusting your words to come out coherently.

Back in your apartment, you told Delia everything from the moment you first met to the last goodbye. She watched in amazement, eyes wide and soft at the memories you shared with him. At the end of your story, she sighed.

“The hopeless romantic in me wishes that you just lived happily ever after,” Delia admitted. “But the supportive roomie and friend in me is happy you didn’t base all your decisions on a guy.”

“I loved him,” you murmured. “I still do.”

You spent so much time wondering if it was a mistake not try the long-distance thing with him. But, eventually, you decided it was time to stop dwelling on it, and that’s when he popped up again.

Tyler wasn’t going to call you, despite every part of his being begging him to give in. It felt wrong to be in your city before a game and not get food, or even see each other. Not reaching out to you felt like the official end to your friendship.

He didn’t say anything about it to anyone, not even Jamie, but the guys knew he was thinking about you. This season was the first one that Tyler seemed indifferent about almost everything.

Going out for drinks after a big win? He was there for twenty minutes, then gone.

Double date with Jamie and his new girlfriend? He’d grab dinner, but leave before drinks.

Day off? He wasn’t hanging out with the guys. Instead, Tyler was in his backyard with the dogs.

The pilot’s voice filled the plane, “Welcome to LA!”

Jamie took an uneasy glance at Tyler to find him staring at the palm trees out the window of the plane. He reached over and nudged him with his elbow.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you going to call her?” Jamie asks. Tyler’s face remained stoic, but the flare of his nostrils indicated something beneath the surface. Jamie continued, “Well, I was going to call her.”

“Why?”

“Because she was my friend, still is,” Jamie states. He stands up as the other boys start exiting the plane. “I think you should call her. I can tell that you’ve been thinking about her since we got on the plane. Besides, I’m superstitious and we always used to get food with her before games in her city.”

The entire way to the hotel, Tyler stared at his phone. He swiped through your Instagram and then stared at the last conversation you had until, finally, he pressed the call button.

The phone rang three times.

You couldn’t trust your eyes when you saw Tyler’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, so you had to have your roommate look too.

“I’m not seeing things, right?”

She stares at the name a moment and then meets your eyes over the screen to confirm, “Definitely not seeing things.”

You stared a little longer. Two rings, three.

“Fucking pick up!” Delia shouted. She stood up and left the room, as if giving you privacy for whatever conversation was to come. You pressed ‘accept’ and brought the phone to your ear.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Tyler sounded a little out of breath. There was a beat of silence and then he said, “I just landed in LA. We have a game tomorrow afternoon against the Kings.”

“I know.”

“Send me your address.”

You felt your heart thump in your chest once, twice. Swallowing, you asked, “What?”

“Your apartment’s address,” he clarified. “I want to see it.”

“Tyler.”

You could hear the eye roll in his voice as he grunted, “Just drop your location to my phone, YN.”

The line went dead.

You dropped your location to him and Tyler liked the message a second later. The exchange sent you into a panicked frenzy around the apartment. Throw blankets were folded up and spread over the back of the couch, or placed in the wicker basket beneath the table. The dishes were cleaned, dried, and put away. You made your bed, for whatever reason.

All of this happened while Delia watched in amusement until, finally, everything seemed to be picked up and put away, and you collapsed on the couch beside her.

“You okay now?”

“No.”

No amount of time could have prepared you for the knock at the door when the boys finally did show up. It was loud and aggressive, and you both jumped at the sound. You sat up and glanced over at Delia. She shook her head, started to stand so she could retreat to her room, and said, “Go get it.”

When you pulled the door open, it wasn’t Tyler on the other side but Jamie.

“Hey, lady,” he greeted you. Tyler was standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest. When you looked over at him, he was looking back at you with dark eyes and a small scowl. Jamie called your attention back to him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you answered. “Happy to see you.”

You stepped aside, motioning for them to enter the apartment as well. They slipped in and Jamie made himself right at home, kicking his sneakers off beside the door. Tyler, however, stood in the foyer with his hands in his jean pockets.

“Nice place,” Tyler said. His eyes hadn’t met yours since you opened the door. The two of them gazed around the living room. Jamie had even ventured further into the apartment to look out at the view. Tyler stayed where he was.

“I’m starving,” Jamie announced. “You have any good places around here?”

Twenty minutes later, you were squeezed beside Tyler in a booth and Jamie was beaming back at the two of you like nothing was wrong. The boys ordered more food than your stomach could handle, but you knew that they’d handle it on their own.

While you waited for food, conversation didn’t start up. Jamie wanted one of you to figure it out. But, nothing fell from either of your lips, so Jamie began.

“YN, tell us about the job.”

You spent the next fifteen minutes talking about work. Tyler watched you as you spoke, eyes lingering on your lips a little too long for his liking. He liked listening to you talk about what you were doing because you sounded so passionate. He was glad the job had worked out for you, but he was upset that he had missed out on all these milestones.

As dinner continued, you all shared stories about the past few months and Jamie felt satisfied when the conversation seemed to shift. Eventually, Jamie stayed silent as you and Tyler carried the conversation by yourselves, giggling and teasing each other the entire time.

It felt like old times.

And then it didn’t.

“Hold that thought,” Tyler blurted out as his phone screen lights up. He slid out of the booth and stepped away, pressing the phone to his ear with a smile. You watched him walk out of the restaurant.

When you turned back to Jamie, he was looking at you.

“It’s Maisy,” he stated. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Some girl he’s seeing.”

“Ah.”

Jamie watched you turn back to the door to see if Tyler was coming back in.

“It might be a while,” he explained. “They’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“Pretty serious then?”

“I think it could be,” Jamie answered. The phrase held the underlying message of ‘it could be serious, if you don’t make a move’. “He went off the deep end this summer.”

“Don’t tell me that.”

“You should know,” Jamie urged. “He hasn’t been himself since that day. I’m sure you haven’t either, but I’ve seen him first hand. I was nervous there would be no turn around for him, then he met Maisy and it sort of lifted his spirits.”

“I’m happy for him.”

“No, you’re not,” Jamie murmured. “You feel obligated to say that, I know, but you aren’t happy for him. And that’s okay.”

He was right. You were just happy he was in a good place, not that he’d found someone else. Selfishly, you didn’t want him to find someone else. But that wasn’t fair.

Before you could say anything more, Tyler came back into the restaurant. His cheeks were rosy, his smile was unwavering, and he had a swagger in his step. Tyler was far gone, you’d missed your shot.

After dinner, the boys came back to the apartment to say their goodbyes. Jamie’s was short and quick, complete with a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. Tyler, on the other hand, took his sweet time.

“I’ll meet you outside,” he said to Jamie, but his teammate was already on his way out the door. It shut behind him and left the two of you staring at each other in silence.

You both spoke at once.

“I miss you.”

“Why haven’t you called me?”

There was silence again before Tyler ran a hand over his face and muttered, “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry for what happened in Dallas,” you told him. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” he responded. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was projecting this crush I had onto you and that just wasn’t right. You were drunk. I was drunk.”

“But I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did.”

He repeated, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“We can play the blame game all day,” you said. Tyler nodded. “I just want my best friend back without all the complications we created.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “I tried to forget about how stupid that night was and the fight we had the next day, and I actually kinda did, but the closer we got to this game, the more I thought about it.”

“I think about it every day, I’m pretty sure,” you stated. He frowned. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Ty. Losing you was losing a part of myself.”

His face softened at this expression.

“I don’t want us to be strangers anymore,” he said as he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he said. Your eyes met again, both a little shocked at the words. “I always have, always will.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered. He smiled softly before stepping towards the door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Definitely,” he responded. “We’re back to regularly scheduled programming, alright? I’m going to annoy the shit out of you now more than ever. I have a lot of time to make up for.”

#tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin story #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #mk writes #hockey imagine #tattoos together fic

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kittymsmithwritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Short fic - Balloons

Mirage x Wattson, a gift for @bamboozlingbritt . This ship needs more content honestly lmao

ao3 link

I do commissions

Silly, fluffy dorks in love.

---

“Elliott! Elliott? Oh, where is he?” Natalie hopped in the middle of the crowd, sending up a cloud of fine fair dust at her feet. She was somewhere in the food stall section, the most likely location for one Elliott Witt to go, but the crowd was like a school of fish, all so tightly together and moving so quickly, and for some reason everyone grew taller when she lost him. It was the second time that day and really, she would be more annoyed if she wasn’t concerned with finding the imbécile, since he was the one with all the money and their phones. She huffed and started squeezing her way through people, calling for him and cursing him in the same breath. Not at the fries stand, or the cotton candy, or the place that somehow deep-fried nachos.

“I am going to kill him,” she decided aloud, though she was looking directly at a child when she said this and quickly removed herself before said child’s tall scary papa could reach her. She came to the ticket vendor. “Pardone, have you seen m-“

“Hey, aren’t you a Legend?”

She puffed a stream of air from her lips, flipping her bangs, then put on a smile. “Oui, oui, mon ami. And I’m looking for-“

“Mirage?” The vendor was grinning. Elliott had mentioned how one of his favorite parts of being a Legend was that people were pretty much always happy to see you, and Natalie had been a little embarrassed to have not noticed, because people were rarely unhappy to see her.

“Yes, have you seen him?”

“Down that way,” he pointed to the right, the only thing in that direction being a large, bubble shaped building. “He signed my arm. Dudes pretty chill. Hey, would you…?”

“If you have a marker.”

The vendor grinned wider and pulled out a black marker. Natalie signed his arm, below Elliot’s scrawl, and then moved on towards the big bubble. On her way there she spotted a balloon vendor and got an idea, purchasing a yellow balloon and a blue one and then continuing into what turned out to be a big vendor convention of some type, with different sections dedicated to different crafts, like leatherwork, jewelry setting and local art. Elliott was found in the garden section, deep in a desert themed area full of cacti and succulents that Natalie was pretty sure made the balloons nervous. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he whirled around, grinning upon seeing her. “Nat! Babe! Lookit these little guys!” He held out his hands, small pots with a tiny cactus in each one. Natalie quickly tied the yellow balloon around his wrist, double knotting it. He stared. “Uh?”

“Stop running off!” She started tying the blue balloon to her own wrist while he stood, hands still out, baffled. He was so cute she hadn’t even sounded as perturbed as she was and maybe that was part of the problem, but oh well. He was too cute for either of their goods. “This is the second time I’ve lost you!”

“I, heh I’m sorry I just, well this guy gave me a pamphlet about this place and then I found plants.” He gestured weakly with the cacti; his balloon wobbling dangerously close to a saguaro. “I’ve always kinda wanted to, you know, try keeping something alive?”

She smiled slightly. “You barely keep yourself alive.” That was a lie, he was probably the healthiest of all the Legends, herself included. She’d spent the ages between 16 and 22 living off takeout and TV dinners, when she remembered to eat, but Elliott? He, like, cooked. He’d been horrified at the contents of her fridge the first time he came over.

“I know, but, they’re cute! They also have succa-suc-succ…soft water boys.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say, chou.”

“I don’t either.” He laughed at himself and then, having apparently decided he was going to purchase the cactuses, carefully navigated his balloon around the pokey pillars of death to the register. “Why’d you tie this to me, again?”

“So I can find you easier.” She lightly backhanded his side. “You’re no better than a toddler.”

He pouted. “You wound me.”

She smiled at him, taking the change from the vendor and shoving it in one of the pockets of Elliott’s fanny pack-blue with golden apples to compliment his outfit- while Elliot was handing over the cacti to be boxed. “This is terribly convenient, if very dorky.”

“It’s part of my charm.” He winked. “I think they call it “Dad Chic”.”

“You’re not a dad, though.”

“Excuse me, I have a beautiful wiener dog named Saucy and I resent the implication that he is anything but a loving son.” He thanked the rather amused clerk for the plants and held the bag in one hand, Natalie’s hand in the other.

She giggled. “Of course, my bad.”

They weaved through the crowd, balloons bobbing around them, the strings sometimes crossing so they hooked together, much like the couple’s hands. Natalie smiled when she thought of the fat little sausage dog who liked very much to sleep in the walkway and would wait, very patiently, for them to finish dinner so he could lick the plates. Elliott even had a set of steps so Saucy could climb into bed. She had a cat, Barbara, but she wasn’t nearly as charming unless you had chicken in hand.

Still, she found herself perusing a stall filled with custom knitted pet clothing, seriously considering a blue bonnet that Barbara would hate. Elliot leaned more towards a leatherworking stall, and she was thankful she bought the balloon, as she lost him twice more from there. They’d come to the fair for the rides and strange food, but Elliott was in a building with a whole square mile full of weird stuff to buy and armed with a credit card, so Natalie resigned herself to browsing and sometimes stopping Elliott’s strange purchases. (She didn’t stop him from buying the suit of armor, though, which made her wonder if they both needed an adult).

She stopped to look at a display of miniature tesla coils and only caught Elliott’s sleeve a moment before he vanished. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” he stopped, and she opened up the fanny pack, digging around for her wallet.

“Goodness gracious, Elliott, if I knew you’d keep wandering like this I would have worn jeans with pockets!”

“Your jeans don’t have pockets?” He cocked his head, to any outsider looking like he was just staring at her crotch in the middle of the fair. She flicked the pocket, only the rim of it pulling out, not even enough to put a penny in. “Why did you buy them?”

“Because they’re cute,” she sighed, passing a fifty to the vendor. Sure, she could make the coils herself, but…no.

“But, but you don’t have pockets. Why would they make it without pockets?”

“To make women buy purses.”

He opened his mouth then paused, finger to his lip like a scientist who’d just had a breakthrough. “Oh my God.”

“You never thought of that before?”

“Never!”

She chuckled, taking the bag from the vendor and again walking with him. “Well, it’s a thing.”

“That’s so stupid.”

She laughed. “It is.”

They went about their day, exiting the big bubble building and wandering back out to the main part of the fair, the rides and food and games. Natalie kept having to run to Elliott’s fanny pack for her phone, or money when she spontaneously wanted even more cotton candy (“Seriously, how are you not dead?” He asked after her third trip) or the couple occasions she ran out of tickets while playing other games during Elliott’s quest for a giant wiener dog plush at the milk-bottle toss, or whatever the game was called.

Eventually Elliott seemed to tire of it, or at the very least got an idea, because when she returned from one of the more ridiculous stands with deep fried ice cream, he’d vanished from his spot near the ring toss. She looked around and didn’t spot his balloon and huffed. But he’d not wandered off the last few hours so she gave him a benefit of a doubt and stood where he had been, guessing (hoping) he had just gone to the bathroom. Of course, fifteen minutes meant otherwise, and by the time she saw his yellow balloon bobbing over the tops of the crowd, she was cross. At least he came back, she thought, hand on her hip. “Elliott, where the hell did you go?”

He jumped-she had that tone- and held up his hands defensively, small bag in hand. “I’m sorry, it took longer to find than I thought.”

“Find what?”

“This.” He handed her the bag and she looked at it suspiciously, passing him what once had been fried ice cream and was now bulbous, sloshing blobs of dough one pin prick away from becoming an unpleasant soup. “It’s kinda dumb,” he added as she began to reach into the bag. Then she pulled it out, and all at once her annoyance disappeared, replaced with a bubble of laughter. “Ha, yeah, it’s du-“

“Non, non, Elliott, I love it!” She said through her giggles, squeezing his arm reassuringly. She immediately fastened it around her waist, looked down and laughed again. It was blue, with electric yellow lightning bolts, almost matching Elliot’s gold apples. “Where on Earth did you find it?”

He was grinning like a doofus, pulling out her cash and phone, which she took and shoved into the pockets. “There’s a whole stall that just sells handmade fanny packs. I found it when I, heh, wandered earlier.”

She shook her head. “Only you could find something like this,” she said, getting on her toes and giving him a peck on the lips, making him laugh in relief, and thinking to herself that she would never have guessed she’d one day find a fanny pack romantic.

#ily britt #mirage #elliott witt #i tried to actually do the double t lmao #wattson #natalie paquette #apex #apex legends #apex legends mirage #apex legends wattson #mirage x wattson #wattage #apex legends fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #humor #silliness #dorks in love #chou means cabbage

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neocityarchive · 5 years

Text

TY: Today [12:48 AM]

Taeyong was the last one to step out of the car. He stormed into the dorm, dropping his bag carelessly on the floor before plopping himself on the couch with a loud sigh.

“Congratulations, Jae,” he said, his tone almost sarcastic, “Y/N would probably go out with you if you ask.”

“I-what?” Jaehyun frowned. “I wasn’t going to…” his voice drifted into Taeyong’s subconscious.

Jaehyun... with his perfect hair and charming personality. Jaehyun who is so talented about everything. Jaehyun who has everything, maybe soon, including Y/N. He has never been someone Taeyong was envious of. He is amazing and arguably perfect, but he knows and accepts their differences. So why does he feel like this now?

“What’s wrong?” Taeil, who also just came home from a different schedule, asked.

Taeyong didn’t answer. Everyone else remained silent, wary of the atmosphere in the room, except for Doyoung.

“You’ve been in a bad mood since you got back from your meeting with Y/N noona,” he said, looking at his hyung with a mixture of concern and slight annoyance.

“Did something happen?” Jaehyun asked.

Taeyong was just staring at blank space. “I honestly have no idea,” he muttered. “She walked out on me.”

“Why?” they all asked.

“I said, I don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “We were fine one minute, and then she suddenly stormed out. She says she’s not gonna see me for another year and a half.”

“She won’t storm out for no reason,” Doyoung said. “What exactly happened?”

Taeyong glared at his dongsaeng who wasn’t even fazed one bit. Besides him, Doyoung is probably the one Y/N is closest to among the group. They started bonding over Billie Eilish and it spiraled from there. Sometimes, he just hates it.

He let out a breath. “Fine,” he mumbled to himself.

He told them about everything, from when she overheard things at the practice room. Meeting her in the lobby, going to the rooftop. He left out the part where he says Jae is not right for her and when he put her hands in his hoodie pocket. He told them about what she said as he remembered it, and about her saying she’d take a shot at Jaehyun before telling him ‘see you in a year and a half.’

When he finished, Doyoung, Yuta, and Johnny exchanged knowing looks.

“You two owe me 5,000 won,” Yuta told them with a smirk on his face.

“What’s this about?” Taeyong frowned, watching the exchange of cash happening in front of him.

“We bet between ourselves who among you and Y/N would confess first. Obviously, he won,” Johnny said, his face disappointed. He turned to me and spitefully said, “Honestly, I expected more from you, Taeyong.”

“What?” Taeyong frowned even more. “What do you mean confess?”

“She likes you, hyung,” Jaehyun said with a gentle smile. “And she’s right. Apparently, you are naive.”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Idiot!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t you listen to what she said? Everything she likes in a guy is probably everything you are, you ignorant ass. What else could that mean?”

“She likes you,” Doyoung said, “and not just as a friend. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. She wasn’t exactly very subtle about it.”

“You knew?” Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed at Doyoung.

“Of course,” he answered. “I’ve known for months. Why do you think we became close?”

“I just…” Taeyong sighed. “I don’t get it.”

“She likes you,” Taeil said. “I don’t even know what happened today, but I know she likes you.”

“Then why didn’t she just say so?” Taeyong kicked the coffee table in frustration. It was made of sturdy wood so it didn’t do much damage, but it did make him more irritated.

A chorus of groans went around the room.

“Idiot!” Yuta shouted, throwing a pillow forcefully at him. “God, I want to throw you out the window.”

“Do we still have to make you realize that you like her, too?” Jaehyun asked.

“I…” He let out a deep breath, both lost for words and completely lost.

Contrary to popular belief, Taeyong never had the chance to date anyone. He came to the company even before he found the confidence to go out and try to be someone’s boyfriend. He never imagined himself being with anyone. It was just know he realized that maybe it’s because he was always with someone…

Her. She’s always been there for him, from middle school, to his audition, to when he passed, to when he cried after his first evaluation, to their debut, to when the fame is starting to drain him, to their first win, to all his ups and downs as an individual. She was there.

Maybe he never realized what it was, but he always wondered about the warm feeling he gets when Y/N suddenly visits him in the practice room or in the waiting room of music shows. He always wondered why it feels so good to hear her voice on the phone when he’s tired or when he’s miles away from home. He always wondered why he always wanted to hold her close and why it hurts when she already has to go. He always thought it was probably because she reminded him of home so much. She was so familiar. But he didn’t realize until now that she felt like home… because she’s been his for so long.

“I have to talk to her,” Taeyong said, getting up from his seat, suddenly filled with passion. He was already about to leave, when they all stopped him.

“Where are you going?” Johnny asked, already blocking his way. “You can’t leave. It’s past midnight.”

“You guys were right. I was too stupid to realize how I feel. But now that I do,” Taeyong shook his head, “I can’t let her go.”

“Even if you do realize that, it’s too late,” Doyoung said, glaring at him. “She’s leaving for New York. We’re headed to Japan early in the morning and she won’t be here when we get back. There’s no way you’ll get out of this dorm.”

Taeyong felt helpless. He looked around his group of friends, suddenly thankful the younger ones aren’t here. It’s hard enough for the hyung line to see their leader emotionally crumble in front of them.

“I can’t just–“ he swallowed the lump in his throat, “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“Like I said, it’s too late,” Doyoung sighed. “Sorry, hyung. Maybe you’ll get the chance again... in a year and a half.”

Taeyong sank back to the couch, covering his face with his hands. His breath was shallow and so were his tears. He could feel the eyes of his members boring into him, but at this point, he couldn’t care less.

“I guess I had this coming,” he muttered.

“Hyung, just text her,” Jaehyun said. “She’ll probably still read your messages.”

Taeyong shook his head. “Just… leave me alone for now, guys,” he said.

With reluctant looks and hesitant steps, everyone left the living room and went to bed one by one, leaving Taeyong alone with his thoughts that carry knives, stabbing him again and again.

This is how it ends, he thought to himself, This is how I’ll lose my best friend and my soulmate in one night.

Today [2:01 AM]

Today [7:01AM]

“... and an iced Americano, please.” I smiled at the barista.

I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m not sure I even slept at all.

I was already worried about leaving. I couldn’t sleep because the anxiety of living in a country I’ve never been to, with people I don’t know was eating me alive. Then my phone started vibrating nonstop at my bedside table.

Taeyong called me four times last night, but I didn’t answer. I made the mistake of unlocking my phone, forgetting that it was going to open to my conversation thread with him so I accidentally marked it read. I stared at our convo for the longest time, typing and erasing. I did that for half an hour before realizing there was nothing more I wanted to tell him.

So when he called and texted, I just… laid there, and waited for it to stop.

I came to the airport today with a different feeling. Somehow, I felt fresh. Like I’m leaving a part of me that I don’t need anymore. I checked my luggage in and claimed my boarding pass. With more than half an hour of waiting time, I decided to get myself some coffee.

And now, I’m here.

I’ve decided that once I’ve stepped on that plane, I’ll forget about everything. About last night. About ever having feelings for my best friend. About being lonely.

I’ve decided to stop forcing myself where I’m not wanted. And I’m actually ashamed it took me so long, but I’ve finally decided to set myself free.

DY: Today [7:24 AM]

Doyoung was tired. He hates early morning schedules. It sucks worse today because Haechan is uncharacteristically energetic in the morning, which means he’s making Doyoung’s life miserable. The maknae might not have gotten any sleep for the fear of his face bloating, so he’s just running on caffeine.

“Alright,” their manager said when they reached their gate. His mouth moved slightly as he silently counted the heads of the people from the group. “...six, seven,” he muttered silently before frowning. “Seven? Who’s missing?”

“Jungwoo and Sicheng went to the restroom,” Taeil said.

“That’s nine. Who’s the other one?”

Doyoung looked at the group, doing a mental checklist of the members, scanning their sleepy faces. “Taeyong hyung,” he mumbled, “he was here a while ago, wasn’t he?”

“Oh!” Yuta’s hands suddenly shot up. His eyes were a bit puffy from the lack of sleep and his voice was still a bit slurry. “He left like five minutes ago. He said he’s gonna come back. I told him to wait till we find our gate, but–” he yawned “–he said it’s important. I was too tired to stop him.”

Doyoung felt a tingle across his spine. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. Taeyong hyung hasn’t been doing well since last night. He knew from the moment he stood up to leave that he won’t let her get away that easily. Most of the time, his passion is admirable and good for the team, but this is clearly not one of those times.

Y/N leaves today. Doyoung couldn’t remember what time her flight was exactly, but he knew it was early in the morning, too. He had a weird feeling that this has something to do with her, which probably means this won’t end well.

“We have to find him,” he told everyone.

“He’s just probably getting coffee or something,” Johnny said, “which reminds me, I have to get some coffee.” He looked at the manager carefully, his expression hopeful.

“Fine, do what you want,” the manager said with an exhausted sigh. “Just find Taeyong and get back here as soon as you can.”

“I’ll come,” Doyoung said.

Yuta and Jaehyun decided to go as well. They haven’t even taken ten steps away from their gate when Jaehyun nodded towards something in the other direction. “Found him,” he said.

They all turned to look. Taeyong was there, alright. And he was with her. They were more or less a hundred feet away from them. The two of them didn’t look like they cared about the people passing by or the looks they’re being given or what was happening around them. They were engulfed in their own little world, and that… confused the hell out of everyone else.

“That’s not Taeyong,” Johnny muttered. “Taeyong would never do that. But it looks like Taeyong and that’s Y/N. Right??? Who is he and what has he done to our Taeyong?”

“They’re so close to each other. What is happening?” Jaehyun asked with the biggest frown on his face.

“That’s it,” Yuta said, suddenly not sleepy at all, “we broke Taeyong. Now he’s all… brave. What happened?”

“I think you called him an idiot too much last night,” Johnny said.

“You are the idiots,” Doyoung grumbled. “She happened. Finally.”

Today [7:13 AM]

I was halfway through my coffee, walking around the airport, just looking at the different shops, and not straying too far from my gate. There’s more or less 20 minutes before boarding time, but my feet are restless.

I stopped in front of a souvenir shop that sells fridge magnets and keyrings displaying the different attractions of South Korea. I was just thinking of buying one to bring to New York when I felt someone beside me.

“What did I say about leaving without saying goodbye?” he asked.

I turned to look. “Wha–what–how… what are you doing here?” I stammered, frowning at Taeyong who seemed unfazed as he continued to stare at the shop window.

I don’t know if it’s because of the coffee or his unexpected appearance, but my heart was pounding again. I looked around to see if anyone else was with him, but apparently he was alone.

He looked at me. His face was puffy, maybe from the lack of sleep. His eyelids drooped lower than usual. He looked tired. He sounded tired. “Are you seriously just going to disappear for that long without saying goodbye?”

I looked away, not wanting to meet his eye. “I told you last night I was gonna’ see you in a year and a half,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t even respond to any of my messages,” he said, “and you expect me to just be okay with it?”

I let out a hollow laugh. “After everything I said last night, I had nothing left to tell you,” I answered, forcing myself to look at him.

But he looked away.

“Here,” I said, handing him my coffee, “You look like you need some. It’s still so early.”

He just glared at it. “I don’t need your death drink. I need you to talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you, and I’m leaving in like fifteen minutes, so...”

I turned on my heels and started walking away. Taeyong followed immediately. His longer legs didn’t make it hard for him to catch up, and soon we were just walking side by side.

“What are you even doing here? How did you find me?” I grumbled. I threw my coffee to the nearest bin I could find, suddenly not in the mood to ingest anything.

“I wasn’t exactly looking for you. I didn’t know you were leaving today because you never told me, remember?” he said sarcastically. “We have a flight, too. I sneaked off as soon as I saw you.”

“You’re not allowed to do that,” I said blatantly. His friends and managers must be looking for him by now. “You know what, just go. I have to get back to my gate.”

“I have to talk to you,” he said.

I could tell that he was growing impatient. His tone was no longer sweet and soft like how it is when he talks about the things he loves. It's deeper, more serious, and a bit intimidating.

I didn't want him to get mad. But I know that if I stayed and talk, leaving would become ten thousand times harder than it already is.

“You should’ve done that last night,” I said before walking away again.

This time, he didn’t follow. He just stood there, frozen, watching me. That’s what I thought at least. So I was so shocked when suddenly…

“Y/N!” Taeyong shouted, his voice dominating every other sound in the airport.

I stopped walking and so did a few others who were also startled by his scene. I closed my eyes partly in embarrassment, partly wishing I could die.

Some of the people passing by threw dirty looks at him while some just looked so confused. Somehow, I’m a bit of both.

I turned around slowly. "What do you want Taeyong?" I moaned.

He was already walking towards me. "Please stop walking away from me," he said.

"Then stop making me," I retorted.

He sighed. "Fine. If you won't let me talk, then just put this on." He handed me one of his airpods and put the other one on his ear.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," he said, dead serious, already scrolling through his phone.

Hesitantly, I put the airpod on. For a moment, there was nothing. I watched as Taeyong kept browsing his playlist and until he found what he was looking for.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to understand what you meant." His voice was suddenly soft again. How he switches so quickly, I have no idea. "But I hope you didn't give up on us just yet."

He tapped something before putting his phone on the back pocket of his jeans. Suddenly, Easier by Bruno Major started playing.

"Dance with me," he said, holding out his hand, "like we did at the practice room."

My cheeks felt hot, but my eyes nearly popped off of my head. "Dance with you?!" I asked. "Here? Are you serious?!?!"

Just because it won't come easily, doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

He took my hand even without a proper answer. "I like you," he said, gently pulling me towards him. "And I don't mean as a friend. I feel like I have to say it as it is because apparently we always tend to miscommunicate when it comes to this. So, yeah…"

"Taeyong," I breathed, my voice weak. "People are staring at us."

"Y/N," he said, glaring down at me. He had that funny expression that is a mixture of a frown and a smile. It sounds weird but God he looks good doing it. "I don't care."

"But--"

"Look, I was stupid," he said. "I was afraid of what I feel. I know this isn't how I'm supposed to feel about you. This isn't how friends are supposed to feel about each other. But you were right. We've gone past that point and I was too stupid to realize it. I like you."

My mind was racing but I couldn't process a single word of what he just said. I kept looking at the people around us.

A lot of them looked this way for at least 2 seconds before minding their own business again. I even overheard someone asking if there was a drama shoot going on. They didn't care for the most part, but still...

"Okay, but do we have to do this here?" I asked bluntly.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to prove a point here, Y/N. Just trust me."

I couldn't help but laugh. "This is ridiculous," I said, pressing my face against his chest.

“But you love it," he replied. I could feel his whole torso vibrate as he spoke.

His arm was on my back while his other hand held onto mine tightly. We were slow dancing in the middle of the airport to a music only we could hear. If someone told me yesterday that I would do this today, I would never have believed them.

My whole body was shaking. My knees felt weak. But somehow, the way he's holding me right now makes me feel less vulnerable, safe.

"You have tried my patience lately, but I'm not about to let us fail," he sang along.

I took a small step back to look at him. "Are you sure though?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really like me or are you just saying that because of my big pathetic confession last night?" I asked.

Taeyong chuckled lightly. "Didn't you listen to a word I just said?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so distracted," I muttered. "But like, are you sure?"

"You tell me," he said, his voice almost a whisper, “You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you every time you're this close to me.”

"I guess that's a yes." I smiled before closing the distance between us, planting my lips unto his. His hand that was previously holding mine went to my jaw, slowly caressing my cheek as he pulled me even closer. My arm went around his neck. It was soft, tender, sweet. For someone without much practice, he's a pretty good kisser. Better than I ever imagined.

We pulled away, breathless.

"I like you, too," I breathed. "Just to be clear."

Taeyong laughed.

As if on cue, they began announcing the boarding of my flight.

"Is that…?" he asked when the announcement ended.

I nodded. The amount of joy I felt a few seconds ago immediately evaporated at the thought of leaving.

"I'll walk you to your gate?"

I just nodded again. My chest feels heavier now than it did when I first got here. Why is it worse?

I began walking, Taeyong falling into step right beside me. He quietly slipped his hand into mine. We have held hands before, but somehow, this felt different. Better and worse at the same time.

"What does this make us?" I asked.

"Us," he answered without thinking. "We'll figure out the labels later."

I nodded.

In front of us, I saw four of his friends walking towards our way. For a moment, I waited for Taeyong to pull his hand away from mine, take a step back, and avoid eye contact like he always does when they appear. But he didn't. Instead he held onto my hands tighter.

My heart melted, and I swear I wanted to cry so bad, but I’ve had too much public display of emotion for a day.

"What did we miss?" Doyoung asked as soon as he was within hearing range, looking at our hands intertwined.

"Nothing," Taeyong muttered. "I saw you brats watching us from afar even a while ago."

"Pfft, us?" Johnny frowned. "No."

"We're not," Jaehyun said.

"So are you two…?" Yuta pointed at me then at Taeyong then at me again.

We just smiled.

"I have to go," I said. "They've announced for my flight twice already. I'm gonna miss you guys, honestly. I hope you take a break from prison once in a while."

"We'll miss you too," Doyoung said.

"Stop calling it prison," Yuta grumbled.

"Can you guys give us a moment?" Taeyong asked.

"Sure," they all answered, but no one moved a muscle.

"Alone." Taeyong glared at them. "I'll just meet you at the gate."

"Right." They all scrambled but stopped walking after a few meters away.

Taeyong turned to me.

"Go with them," I said. "I don't think I can watch you watch me leave. You'll just make me cry."

"I knew you were gonna say that." He sighed. "Take care of yourself while you're there, okay? And always call me."

"What are you, my mom?"

He pouted slightly.

"Of course, I will," I said. "Take care of yourself, too. I won't be around to visit you."

"What are you, my mom?" he mocked, imitating ny tone.

I hit him lightly in the chest. "I'll kill you if you get injured."

"I know." He chuckled. "I'll miss you. I'm allowed to say it now right?"

Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck once again, burying my face at the crook of his neck.

Taeyong grunted in surprise, but wrapped his arms around my waist immediately. It was almost too perfect.

"I'll miss you too," I mumbled against his shirt.

They started announcing for my name specifically.

"Now, I really have to leave," I said as I let go. I started walking away, but Taeyong held onto my hand. "No goodbyes."

"None," he agreed, finally letting me go.

"See you in a year and a half?"

He shook his head. "I'll make sure to see you in less."

- 끝 -

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#FINALLY DONE #nct au #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #lee taeyong au #nct imagines #nct prompts #nct blurbs #nct 127 au #soft nct hours #sad nct hours #taeyong fluff #taeyong au #taeyong angst

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 34

Last time: Detective Kimblee got curbstomped, nobody wears hats in freezing weather, and the contents of The Mighty Armstrong’s letter shall forever remain a mystery. Onwards!

Inside Fort Briggs, Ed is shocked to learn that having a metal limb attached to your flesh in subzero weather can be hazardous to your health, he’s being treated for exposure. A spiky-haired blonde doctor’s talking about how the cold freezes flesh and unoiled automail will stiffen.

So do all automail Briggs soldiers carry around oil cans, then? Like Buccaneer, who just came into the med room complaining about Al’s head being stuck in his chainsaw-arm. Apparently northern automail- Hold up, is it just me or does this new guy in a labcoat who’s working on Buccy’s arm look like Havoc? Eh, maybe it’s just the cigarette. -northern automail is flexible, lightweight, and resistant to the cold, so they worked out an alloy. And here Ed was just trying to transmute iron, makes sense a blend of metals he’s not consciously trying to manipulate would resist him. Aw, Buccy has an actual automail arm while his chainsaw is getting worked on. I was hoping for shoe-tying shenanigans. After the obligatory “wait this kid’s equivalent to an officer?” moment the Doc recommends he call for Winry to make a cold-weather arm. If he wants to live, that is. Also, that’ll be a hundred cens for the coffee thank you. Hmmm, maybe Ed should do some research on the place he’s going next time? I get that he’s used to Central military life, but the North seems to run on different rules. Still doesn’t keep him from being irritated. [Major-General Armstrong]: “Hello, little red runt.” Major-General Armstrong; so intimidating that when she nicknames our height-sensitive protagonist after a fairy tale he’s too frozen with fear to respond. And then the mechanic returns Al’s head with his “hair” left a scraggly stump? This day is not going the Elric Brothers’ way. Episode 34 - “Ice Queen” ...as much as I like Major-General Armstrong so far and you lot seem to worship her, I have a lot of favorite characters who have taken the title “Ice Queen”. Let’s see how she stacks up against them. Taking a seat at a small desk (I thought it was hers to show off an austere lifestyle or whatever until that picture of North Doc’s family, guess she commandeered the office for a bit), Major-General Armstrong asks how her brother Alex is doing. Aw, she cares! Except for snarling after the brothers say the big strong guy they know and love is doing great? (Please tell me she has a height complex with her little brother, please tell me she has a height complex with her little brother…) Anyways, time to explain why they came north. They can’t say much though, while they want to eventually deal with Uncle if they talk about the Goths it could reach the Fuhrer, and then Winry (and Riza) are in trouble. The brothers decide to just talk about the quest to recover their bodies, tracking down May to the north. Major-General Armstrong… calls them Trouble Magnets and tells them to GTFO of her fort. Except that’s what she’d “like” to say but her interest in Alkahestry trumps her irritation with the protagonists. Knowledge is power, and knowing a skill that’s little understood in her home country could be useful in defending its borders. Another weapon for the arsenal… Hoo boy. Al protests that Alkahestry is specialized for medical healing, Major-General Armstrong snaps that- [Major-General Armstrong]: “My job is far more perilous than yours. I will make use of any knowledge that I can get my hands on.” Ok then. I’m getting that people like her attitude and all… but I’m kinda concerned about that line. If her immediate reaction to Alkahestry is “how can I weaponize this”, I’m worried what Major-General Armstrong’s opinion on Philosophers Stones would be. Major-General Armstrong declares that she’ll track down May while the Brothers stay inside the fort, telling Major Miles (is that Sideburns-Guy who’s been by her side all this time?) to put them to work. No work, no food, capiche? Then down the corridor she goes with Buccy, talking about how they’re still “soft and weak”, and that they haven’t told her everything. Major Miles/Sideburns is leading the Brothers somewhere, Ed tries to engage him in conversation but he stays silent. Ed gripes that they keep getting asked questions but don’t get any answers, when Sideburns stops and- Ishvalan! Sideburns is Ishvalan! Ok then! While it’s common knowledge that Ishvalans were purged (yeesh) from the army before the War of Extermination, Sideburns is half-Ishvalan so apparently got to stay in the military as Ed’s country destroyed that of his grandfather. Ed lets out a shaky breath and says Sideburns’ people destroyed the countryside, and one of them murdered his friend’s parents. The two stare eachother down… until Sideburns chuckles? A test? Ed didn’t give him the response he’s used to (shame and pity), but it’s understandable given his complicated relationship with Scar. Wait, attempted kidnapping? When did Scar try to kidnap you, as far as I can remember all your interactions were either trying to kill each other or you using him as Goth Bait. Sideburns seems pleased with Ed’s views, ushers him on while explaining that yes he was active duty during the War, being outside the military purge requirements he stayed while his relatives died in the East. He understandably resented the military’s actions, and was confused as to why Major-General Armstrong would keep him around as a ranking officer given the racial tensions. Eventually he asked her. [Major-General Armstrong]: “This is Briggs. No matter what happens, this territory must not fall. Every soldier here must be both strong and flexible. You must move as one cohesive unit, following me your leader in all things and at all times. In short, we do not have the luxury of discrimination here. The blood of several races flows within you, and with that comes varying strengths and values. You can see this country in a way that others cannot. I was born and raised in Amestris; in order to lead I need someone with your eyes. Now shut up and follow me, Miles! Understood?!” Damn! Sorry, had to include that entire quote. Still worried about the desire to weaponize Alkahestry (and possibly Philosopher’s Stones), but I’ve gotta respect that speech. Pfft! And in addition to that awesome quote, when Sideburns asked if he can’t get over his resentment about the Extermination? [Major-General Armstrong]: *sword drawn* “Fine then, bring it! On behalf of the military I will accept your challenge any time!” Badass in Command for sure. And when Ed speculates that she said that because she had all those troops at her back Sideburns is quick to nope that idea right out. Scary lady is scary. They’re outside now, Sideburns expounding on the Survival of the Fittest culture of Briggs. You don’t have power? Dead. You have it? You might survive. Private or general, all are equal to that rule. And apparently they respect various forms of power, Sideburns notes Ed’s high luck when he trips and dodges a falling icicle. Ok, have to admit my first thought was Sideburns would say “we leave these icicles up because if you get killed from falling ice you’ve got no business at Briggs” to expand on the Survival of the Fittest, but they’ve got more common sense than that. The Brothers are assigned to scrape off the falling threats, after that they’ll get a room. Aw, poor vertically-challenged Ed can’t reach the ice while his little brother knocks them down with ease, when someone who recognizes them walks up. Oh hey, Falman! That’s right, you did get reassigned to the north. Or actually, wasn’t it the Northern Command Center? Apparently he was for a bit, but then promotion and shuffling over to Briggs. Unfortunately despite the shoulder bling the Brothers pick up that doing grunt work like this means he’s off the career track? Come on kiddos, show some tact when noting the middle-aged guy is off the advancement list! I’d run away crying too! After Falman gets it out of his system, he takes Ed and Al to the Research and Development Center, where there are a bunch of guys working on tanks. Seems Major-General Armstrong’s interest in keeping a weapon advantage extends to taking the latest Amestrian technologies and turning them into weapons. So it does extend beyond Alkahestry, then. Hmmm. Now they’re being shown a massive mechanical room, giant red pipes and fans everywhere. Falman says this is the lowest level of Fort Briggs, since Ed comments that it’s warm I’m assuming this is the engineering room that keeps all the toilets in the fort from freezing, as well as several less-important functions. [Falman]: “Even if the fort’s attacked, this area will remain safe.” ...now why did you have to say that, Falman? You know the Irony Gods can’t resist a line like that. Looking around, Ed’s pushed aside by a mechanic who’s inspecting a pipe for an odd noise, then puts his head to the ground when the Ominous Piano starts up. Digging? Spies from Drachma? Uh, the screens starting to shake and the sound is getting louder, if these are spies they are the least subtle spies I have ever seen/heard. Wait. Not Drachma! NOT DRACHMA! WE HAVE GOTH SIGN! Way, way back in the show we saw the Goth Sloth digging somewhere. I guess we know where that is now! But why? Sloth seems to have a deep voice, saying that it’s annoying to do all this digging, but it’d be a pain to die so whatever. Huh, so this Goth’s being interpreted as apathetic? Guess we’ll find out now, there goes the floor! Mid-ep pictures of Major Miles and yup, that’s Sloth. Major-General Armstrong’s getting a report on Kimblee, seems he’s been checked into a hospital after the train battle. She’s upset to hear that he’s free, especially by the Fuhrer’s orders, but that’ll have to wait because alarm! Intruder in the base!

Sloth sloooowly crawls out of the ground, a big hulking brute facing down the engineers and Elric Brothers. Sloth stares… Ed stares… Sloth stares… Ed stares… Sloth falls asleep wait what? Ooookay then. After the Brothers’s outburst Sloth wakes up and they claim they’re just there to research a way to recover their bodies. But Sloth doesn’t care? Doesn’t know them? What, did Sloth just get told to dig a tunnel to Briggs way back when and hasn’t been updated since? Why? Oh for- Buccy! They aren’t Drachman spies! Yes it looks suspicious that they were talking with the Goth, but that’s because they can’t engage it directly! So now that Sloth has finished his tunnel he seems at a loss for what to do, just stumbles forward and tosses aside a pipe segment (that nearly crushes Ed) because it was in his way. So what I’m getting is that Sloth is even more the dumb muscle of the group than Gluttony was. And durable too, the other Goths had to heal from bullet wounds but they’re just bouncing off him. Sloth shambles onto an elevator and bumps into the lever to rise, seems he’s heading to Development. Ooh, do we get to see the tanks in action? Everyone runs upstairs where troops are running around with rifles, and some hapless mechanics are stacking boxes and arming themselves with pipes. Yeah, don’t bother guys. Sloth arrives and they get ready to- [Major-General Armstrong]: “Don’t move!” *Rocket Launcher* Damn! Someone find me a good picture of her pose after that shot. Unfortunately it’s about as effective as the small rounds were, she tosses the useless rocket launcher to a hapless trooper and orders the alarm turned off. Don’t want the Drachmans to catch wind of an opportunity. Drachma this, Drachma that… part of me is imagining that this is a one-sided rivalry. [Imaginary!Drachman #1]: “Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like an alarm going off at the Amestrian fort.” [I!D #2]: “Wait, they’re still staffing that place? We decommissioned our own fort years ago, ever since we found the Light of Leto. I hope they’re ok.” [I!D #1]: “Perhaps we should send someone over to check on them. Ooh, and deliver some pamphlets!” yessss. We’ve got working tanks! Major-General Armstrong orders the fuses removed from the shells, and reassumes the title of Tank Lady as she boards the vehicle, swings her sword, and gives the command. Fire! Headshot, byotch! Sadly, these are Goths we’re talking about, who all raise a massive middle finger at any non-Alchemy means of attack. A shot from a tank shell just scraped Sloth’s cheek away, and it regrew in a matter of seconds. Sloth just gripes that pain is a pain, and stomps forward. Another shot lodges in his gut but is tossed aside and healed even faster, and further shots just bounce off. Damn, he has Adaptive Ability? Sloth’s “back to work” smashing stuff now, sends some boxes and lockers flying which Ed stops with a Transmuted stone hand. Major-General Armstrong notes his protecting her minions, and then Ed runs up to say stop wasting ammo. She demands answers, but Ed can’t answer without explaining about the Goths and violating the Fuhrer’s deal. In the end it boils down to one question: “Are you on our side or are you in league with that thing?” Ed just doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt, so the Major-General sets that aside and orders Buccy to get some tank fuel. I suppose burning did work on Lust, but that was Alchemy. Hmmm, Major-General Armstrong says they can’t stop it, just delay. And they need something stronger than fire? What are you planning? [Major-General Armstrong, smirking]: “Now you get to see the Briggs way, kid.” Oh my Leto don’t you dare aaaaargh. End of episode. Stop cutting me off, damn it! Alright! We’ve gotten some more info on Major-General Armstrong, who I’m still reserving a nickname for until I’ve got some more info on her character. I am really, really liking a lot of what I’ve seen so far, but after her immediate jump on weaponizing Alkahestry and the drive to research and develop new weapons I worry about her response to Philosopher Stones. Hopefully my fears will be unfounded and she can earn a nickname, it’s a real pain to type out Major-General Armstrong all the time. Sloth! Interesting that they went with the apathy aspect of his Sin, seems to be a guy that prefers to follow orders because thinking for himself takes more effort. Definitely got a chuckle when he up and fell asleep facing the Elrics, good humor potential there. And impressively strong, too! Should be a good battle next episode. With him I believe we’ve only got one Goth left unseen, Pride, who’s hanging out in Central with the other Goths and Uncle.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 34

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years

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Somewhere Only We Know

Requests:

Hi can you write something with bellamy blake that's like angst and fluff based on the song Somewhere only we know by Keane thank u <3

Requested by: @marvelgladers

Hi! Can you please do something with Bellamy Blake where it’s fluff and then the reader gets hurt or dies or something and Bellamy is having a hard time dealing with it? I love your writing so much! Thx

Requested by: Anonymous

Omg don’t even care what it’s about but I just need more of you writing for Bellamy! You’re so good that doc literally made me so happy oml 😂

Requested by: @ferrisxbueller

Paring: Bellamy Blake X Reader

Word Count: 2,274

Post Date: 4-20-19

Warnings: angst, fluff, death, no happy ending 😢

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support! I love writing for you guys and I’m having such a great time with all the requests! Also I love writing for Bellamy because he’s amazing and I love The 100. Well, I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as you did the last ones! Also it’s based on the song Somewhere only we know by Keane and let me tell you, I had never heard of this song before and then I started listening to it for this and I instantly fell in love with it.♥️ I’m hoping I get the main gist of it correct for you all and that I do it justice because it is such a beautiful song. But you know it’s mainly in my head and how I felt writing through this song. Please go listen to it if you haven’t heard it before! This has got to be the longest story I’ve written, and I tried guys. I really did. Songfics are hard.😂 Love you all!

Also, idk if anyone reads this or not because it’s long as hell, but thanks if you do and keep requesting!

- Ria

*Based on Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know*

*Song lyrics are in bold*

*Not my Gif*

I walked across an empty land

I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

I felt the earth beneath my feet

Sat by the river, and it made me complete

“Bellamy!” You call searching through the tents for your best friend. “What!?” He grumbles as you finally find him in his tent tying his shoes for the day. “Bellamy, I’m bored! I want to do something and as my best friend, I’m your responsibility to entertain. So. Entertain me.” You say as you plop yourself down our his mattress throwing your arms and head off the side, Bellamy chuckling looking at your upside face. “Fine smalls.” He says sarcastically using the nickname you hate causing you to roll your eyes, he calls you that because even though your one of the oldest people you’re also one of the shortest. He’s still chuckling as you flip yourself over on the bed getting your way, “you want to do something? Then come with me on the hunt.” You stare at his smirking face with wide eyes. “You, Bellamy Blake, are actually letting me, Y/N L/N, on a hunting trip? Am I dreaming or did I die because there is no way you would actually let me do that.” You smirk watching as he rolls his eyes. “Fine, don’t go if your just gonna act like this.” He starts out of the tent before you quickly pull him back simply apologizing then grabbing your spear. A few hours later, and a lot of joking complaints on your part, you and Bellamy decide to head back to the camp. Before you get to far Bellamy stops walking, causing you to run right into him since you weren’t paying attention, causing you to stumble to the ground. “Careful Smalls, you don’t want to hurt yourself there.” He laughs as he sticks his hand out for you to take. “ oh shut up Bell.” You snap back at his amused expression. “Why the hell did you stop? Did ya get scared of your shadow?” You joke as he lifts you to your feet gently pushing you a little when your feet are finally planted, letting out a laugh st your pretend shocked face. “I wanted to show you something before we go back, found the place the other day and thought you’d appreciate the ‘beauty and whatnot’ of it.” He says with finger quotes as yougot excited. You could always find the beauty in anything, that was one of the things Bellamy had always loved about you. When you all first came down to the ground, you were the only person besides Octavia who could make Bellamy laugh and smile like he felt when he was younger. He drags you away from the path into a huge field with flowers and a river going through it. He glances over to watch your reaction, smiling as he sees your smile triple in size and your eyes shift a million miles a minute to take in the wonderful sight. “Oh, Bell… It’s… It’s beautiful.” You whisper turning to him, catching the sunlight around him, making him look almost angelic as you chuckle and lie down on the grass next to the river. Pulling him down right next to you, staring at his face as he stares at yours, finally feeling completely happy for the first time since the ark.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

Walking around camp, you notice the stress levels are high. After Spacewalker and princess tried to “make peace with the grounders” everyone acts like they have a target on your backs. You aren’t that stressed because you trust Bellamy and, though you hate to admit it, Clarke and knew that they both had the 100’s best interests in mind. As you passed by the drop ships doors you began to hear yelling slowly building inside, knowing how everyone can be, you made your way inside to stop any potential fights, surprised to find Bellamy was there yelling at a smug boy who refused to work for the day. You grabbed Bellamy’s arm, feeling him tense when he felt your arm but saw him relax a little when he realizes it’s you. “Hey Blake, why don’t you take a break from threatening to kill people and come hang out with your best friend.” You smile as you see his eyes glance from the poor boy who seemed so confident at the start of this conversation, who is now looking like he crapped himself, to you who just so happened to be one of the only people not on Bellamy’s bad side. He reluctantly agreed and followed you out of the drop ship and to the gates. “Smalls, where are we going? We can’t leave camp, it’s to dangerous.” “Oh come on Bell, live a little.” You say winking as you both leave camp heading to the spot that he brought you to the other day, Bellamy lips curling up at the corners when he realizes where you’re taking him. “Ok Y/N, I get it, I need to relax but we shouldn’t be this far from camp after the bridge.” “Oh my god, Bellamy stop worrying, we are gonna be fine, besides I have you to protect me and you have me to protect you. And bell, I mean this in the kindest way possible… you look like shit. You need to relax AWAY from camp.” He feigns hurt as he places his hand to his chest causing you to snort at his ridiculousness. “Look Bell, I know you’re stressed and tired with everything going on at camp and i guess, I just wanted you to know you can tell me anything and always rely on me to make you feel better or just to be there, you just gotta let me in Bell.” Bellamy looks at you and smiles causing your cheeks to slightly blush as you pull him down by the river, placing yourself between his legs with your back lying down on his chest while he props both of you up with his arms. You stare up at the sky and then down at the river while Bellamy constantly scans the woods for Grounder movement, after a few minutes his eyes drift down to you as yours somehow managed to drift to his. For a few seconds Bellamy had forgotten about the grounders, the 100, and the damn ark that dropped you guys. He was just focused on you, and you focused on him. Both of you completely happy once again.

I came across a fallen tree

I felt the branches of it looking at me

Is this the place we used to love?

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Its been a week since you had managed to drag Bellamy to the field, and everyday since you and him have been going there for some time each day just to relax and spend time. You and Bellamy have been best friends since you were on the ark, you were the only person outside of the Blake family Bellamy had told about Octavia. He might have been a few years older than you, but you guys didn’t care as you both felt happy and carefree as friends. But lately, after you guys found your spot, things have changed, you think back on all the times you and Bellamy were just friends, people who deeply cared for each other, but not in a romantic way, not in the way Bellamy feels for you now, and the way you feel for him. “Y/N…” Bellamy says as you lean up against his chest in the field. You turn your head to face him as you hear with voice wavering, giving him a slight smile and nod to continue he adverts his eyes from your face looking up into the sky, throughly confusing you. You shift in his lap to face him place your hand on his cheek and pull his focus back onto you, worried that something had happened and he wasn’t okay. “Hey, Bell, it’s ok. You know can tell me anything.” His eyes bore into yours and your breathing hitches, “Y/N, I’m in love with you.” You feel yourself completely stop breathing, still staring up at the man you love, who closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t said that when he saw your reaction. After giving your brain a minute to process what had happened, you raise up and press a light kiss to his lips while his eyes opened in shocked. After he had realized what was happening he pulled you closer into him and pressed your lips harder to his, you hands had managed to find their way up to his neck and one into his hair, while his made its way onto your back and hips still pressing himself to you. When you separated the smile you had never left your face, “I love you too, Bell.” You whisper back to him causing him to pull you back into another kiss.

A few days after you and Bellamy started dating and became inseparable, you took a group on a hunting trip with Bellamy. Hunting trips have been limited in case of Grounder retaliation, but you all were desperate. When the hunt was ending and you were heading back, something had caught your eye. You told everyone to be quiet and get down as you and Bellamy were in charge of scanning the woods for the grounders. When Bellamy had caught sight of one of them, he got everyone’s attention to let them know, but then you got sight of another, then another, and another and soon, you were surrounded. You had no plan, you were scared but you weren’t going to let anyone see that, so you put on your best poker face and listened to Bellamy’s plan. When he was done explaining, the grounders were gone and you had no idea where they went. You guys remained close together, not daring to separate from the group, at least that was the plan. But one cocky idiot thought he was better off alone than with the group. He started running off, accidentally grabbing you in the process and pushing you away from the group. Seeing he had grabbed you, he stopped running to make sure you were ok. Dumb mistake. The second he had stopped moving a spear went right through his chest. And he hit the ground in record time. And without even thinking you stopped moving. Dumb mistake. Pain, that was all you felt, looking down at the spear prodding through your stomach. You could hear the grounders retreat as the fog horn sounded, and you could hear Bellamy scream your name and you hit the ground, falling like a tree. “Hey-y, no-o, no, no. Please I love you, no please don’t go.” He screams as he tries to pick you up to take you to camp, cradling your hand in his neck. “Bell-l, Bell-l please, I’m so tired, just… please.” You barely whisper blood starting to dribble out of your mouth, looking up at him. “No Y/N, please think of the field and- and the river, Y/N think of the river and when we said I love you. God Y/N please, please for me, keep breathing.” Your eyes had somehow fluttered close and your breathing short and barely there. “Bellamy, Bell, you- you were my dream.” You managed to whisper smiling before you went limp in his arms, your breathing completely stopped and his mind completely breaking.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go

Talk about it somewhere only we know?

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go

Somewhere only we know?

You were gone. Bellamy hadn’t managed to go back to your spot since that day. But it’s been a week and he needs you, he needs to talk to you, to hold you, he relied on you more than he knew. You kept him sane. He felt tired, drained, and needed somewhere to go. So he went somewhere only you know, he went to the field. When he got there he fell on the ground, and for the first time since you died, he cried. He cried for a while, until he heard a branch snap behind him. Quickly grabbing his spear and wiping his face, he shot himself around, only to come face to face with Clarke, who apparently followed him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. “Bellamy… what are you doing here? You should be back at camp.” She says as she places a hand on his shoulder as he remains on his knees staring at the ground. “I just… I need her. This was our spot.” He mumbles his eyes drifting up to the river remembering your face the first time he brought you here, when everything began. “You wanna talk about it?” Clarke says keeping her voice soft as to not upset him. “I can’t. It’s over. This was the end of… everything.” His voice becames breathy as he tries to hold in his emotions, not letting his co-leader see him cry. “I came here.” He said. “I had to come somewhere only we know.”

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy imagine #bellamy blake #the 100 imagine #the 100 #clarke griffin #somewhere only we know #songfic #Bellamy Blake imagine #bellamy x reader #the 100 bellamy

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preface2adreamplay · 4 years

Text

Under Your Spell (Part 2) - I’m Still Breathing

Summary: A Jared Padalecki/OFC fiction.

Stef is a musician, recently gone solo. Happy with her life as a forever single person until Jared makes it his mission to get close to her. (For the purpose of this fiction, I have liberated some lyrics from various artists and their videos. This is fiction, with real people mentioned.)

Ratings: 18+ (Smut, Angst, Fluff). Flirting, mentions of sex, swearing.

Chapter WC: 2,471

Series Masterlist

Waking to a pounding on the car window, Stef jolted from her sleep to see Ari standing outside. ‘You ok, honey?’

Sighing with relief. Heart hammering, she rolled down the window. ‘Just getting some shut eye before driving home.’

‘Night shoots are a bitch. Loved working with you though, seriously. Call me if you want to do anything else, yeah?’ Ari put her hand to ear and walked away smiling.

‘Will do,’ Stef shouted at the disappearing figure. She had only been asleep for 25 minutes. That’s a perfect power nap, she thought, starting the engine.

It had gotten a little chilly. Turning up the heat she checked her phone before turning out of the lot. No new messages. Perfect.

As soon as she closed the front door, she relieved herself of her jacket and boots, pulling her jeans off and tossing them toward the laundry room. They landed…somewhere. She was too tried to care.

Her cat stood blinking at her from the sofa. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Sir. Did I wake you?’ Stef stroked his soft head, pulling an ear in to the palm of her hand and squishing it in her fingers. He loved that, his big eyes squinting, hind leg lifting to give the other ear a scratch.

Since her son had moved down south for school, she lived alone and quite liked it. Just her and Brendan, her ‘large and imposing’ Savannah cat. Stef chuckled at the comparison, leaning down to place a kiss on the furry monster’s head.

Toying with the idea of making tea or just sleeping on the sofa, she chose the latter, pushing Brendan down to the other end so she could lay down.

Just before she dozed off, she sent a message to the unknown number.

Wonderful, have run around a forest looking both terrified and aroused for hours.

When she woke up, her stomach was grumbling loudly. Not surprising as she hadn’t eaten in about 24 hours. A quick pasta dish was heated up from the freezer, Brendan was munching happily on some stinky cat food and Stef was sitting curled up on the sofa, channel surfing.

Her phone dinged.

Is that something else you only do in private? ;)

Definitely Jared. Stef cringed a little, he was eluding to their conversation from the previous day. Oh god, why did he remember the embarrassing things she said? She groaned aloud, throwing her head back onto the sofa.

‘Kill me, Brendan. Get the shotgun.’

The cat looked at her and turned away, not giving one single fuck.

‘Hey that gives me an idea for a song.’ She exclaimed, grabbing her notebook and scribbling down a few lines in a flurry of inspiration.

‘I may even name this song, ‘Kill me, Brendan”.

Tongue pushed between her teeth in concentration, she wrote almost two full verses. Quick work. Jared was a good muse.

Deciding to browse social media for a bit, she looked up Oscar’s twitter. Nothing new. There were a few friends updating with photos from their Friday night out. Stef didn’t mind, she preferred sitting in to clubbing.

Maybe I should check Jared’s? Knowing it wouldn’t be a good idea, but did it anyway.

Having scrolled through several pictures of him with his beautiful wife and adorable children, she’d had enough.

Texting both Oscar and her son a ‘How are you?’ She shot a quick message back to Jared,

‘Wouldn’t you love to know.’

Sent.

Too late to take it back.

It wasn’t even one minute before her phone lit up. Stef picked her phone up and tentatively unlocked the screen.

Oscar: ‘Tired. Still on set, putting the hours in so I can get home and see my family.’

Stef sighed contentedly, it was sweet, Oscar was always sweet.

Stef: Flying down on Friday evening, can you pick me up?

The flash of ‘typing’ came up on screen. She waited, wondering what the hell he was typing that was taking him so long, rolling her eyes when finally he pressed send.

‘Yes x’

Another beep.

Dar: great, studying.

Stef: yeah right.

Dar: 😋 🍻

Stef: behave.

Stef looked up at the framed pictures on the fireplace. The centrepiece photo was her and Darius on the beach. He was 4, she was 20. Damn, he was a cute kid. Oscar had insisted on bringing them to the beach so he could take photographs of them, they had hiked half way there after the car had broken down. That was a fun day.

Her eyes were drawn back to her phone when it dinged again. Jared.

‘You busy? You wanna grab a drink?’

Considering the offer, she decided to send a selfie of her and Brendan laying on the sofa covered in blankets. Having taken a photo, she reconsidered. Make it sexier. Pulling her tank down a little it gave more than enough cleavage. Just the look she was going for.

‘I’m wiped after the night shoot. I have beers in my fridge. Can’t move from this sofa.’

Picture and message sent.

A beer would be good right about now. But so would a shower. She rubbed a hand down her face, deciding.

Shower first, beer after.

Just as she was tying her hair into a messy bun, Jared sent another text.

‘Damn girl. I’m with the guys.’

Stef: ’Who are ‘the guys’.

Jared: ’Jensen and Misha, they want to know why I’m blushing.’

Stef: ’Why ARE you blushing?’

Typing. Typing.

Stef put the phone down and stood under the hot water, the water pressure was so damn good. Choosing the sweetest smelling shower gel from her ridiculous and varied selection of bath products, she lathered up and gave a quick shave to the key essential areas. Better to keep on top of it then to panic shave later on.

Jared: ’I don’t usually get pussy pictures.’

Stef giggled when she saw the latest message pop up on screen.

Stef: ’His name is Brendan and he asked me to give you a nonchalant glance.’

Jared replied with a laughing emoji.

Stef: ’Also, me mentioning beers in my fridge was an invitation for a chilled out drink at mine.’

Slipping into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, she looked herself over in the mirror. Relaxed AND sexy. She was certain this was one of Oscar’s old shirts, she didn’t listen to The Clash. Now that she had invited Jared for a drink at hers, she didn’t really know what to do with herself. From feeling relaxed on the sofa thinking she would binge watch some Rick & Morty to feeling as if nothing would satisfy her.

Beep.

She checked her phone. ‘I can be there in a half hour. I need to talk to someone interesting. Sick of looking at these guys.’

Sure, she thought, who would get sick of looking at Jensen and Misha?

Texting her address and directions to her ‘out of the way’ house, she fixed the living room up a little.

Brendan had slinked past her and made himself scarce. Probably upstairs asleep on the bed, where he was absolutely not allowed to be.

‘You better not be in the bedroom!’ Stef yelled up the stairs. Jumping in fright when a knock came on the door behind her.

She peered though the peephole. Jared standing with his hands in his pockets, a tentative look on his face.

Smiling, she pulled open the door.

Jared looked her up and down and gulped, ‘I’m not in your bedroom.’

‘Oh,’ Stef covered her face, flushing. ‘The cat likes to sneak in when I’m not looking.’

One side of Jared’s mouth pulled into a half smile, raising his eyebrows at her.

‘Come in,’ gesturing to the living room to the right of the hallway. ‘I’m still a little foggy from the lack of proper sleep.’

Jared stepped into the hallway and stood a little too close and she pushed the door closed behind him.

‘Why is your cat called Brendan? And why do you live in a weird house in a weird neighbourhood?’

Stef looked up into his confused face, she could see he was trying to hold back a laugh but he was earnest in his innocent inquisitiveness.

‘I have so many questions,’ he grimaced.

‘Well come on, let’s grab a drink and you can ask me all the questions you like.’

Jared’s long legs almost reached the fireplace as he lay draped across half of her sofa. She was sitting with her legs across the arm of the comfy armchair, angled so that she could see the tv, be close to the fire and near enough to Jared without being too familiar. He was watching her talk about the last album she recorded, enjoying seeing her small feet press against the cushion on the sofa, curling her toes as she remembered how she almost blew out her voice.

‘There was a lot of passion in that song.’ He agreed, placing the bottle to his lips and taking a quick sip.

Stef raised her eyebrows, ‘So, you’ve listened to a lot of my music, then?’ Taking her turn at drinking, swishing the beer around her mouth, watching him while he considered his answer.

‘I have. Even the stuff you did with the electronic band,’ he said, as if he didn’t know the name.

’And when I heard you were looking for someone for your video, I decided to throw my name out there. Especially after hearing the song, it was one of those moments when the lyrics reached in and really grabbed at you. You know?’

He placed a hand over his heart, his long fingers slipping into the gap between the buttons. His face was was set in a frown, one of those faces you see when someone is talking about something they love and feel as if no one else really ‘gets it.’

Stef bit her lip, ‘Thank you’ she whispered.

He leaned forward and clinked his bottle against hers, ‘Cheers to that. And please, keep making music.’

Laughing behind her hand, she threw her head back against the chair and closed her eyes.

‘I write all the time, it’s like a river flowing through me, it never stops. My mind is running at a hundred miles an hour these past few days. I can’t seem to switch off.’

Jared nodded. ‘You paint as well? he asked, getting up from the sofa.

‘I paint, but I’m not great at it.’

‘These are are yours?’ He gestured to the art covered walls.

‘Yeah,’ she gave him a tight lipped smile, ‘I sell some. Can you believe people buy this stuff?’

‘I believe it.’

‘You’re too kind.’ Stef shimmied out of the armchair and stood next to him, she came up to his shoulder at full height.

Jared stilled when he felt her arm brush lightly against his.

‘So. Are you up for the party on Sunday?’ He asked, without looking at her.

‘Yeah, I think so. Can I bring a friend?’

Jared cocked his eyebrow at her.

‘A girlfriend,’ feeling the need to clarify. ‘I don’t like showing up at a party alone. It gives me an excuse if the party sucks or if the guys are creepy,’ she grinned up at him. His eyes meeting hers.

‘Creepy guys eh?’ He grinned while taking another sip of beer.

‘Well, it can’t be too bad, I have already seen you in your underwear. I’ve choked you during pretend sex too.’

They both laughed, beer spluttering from her mouth and splashing on to her shirt.

‘Oh fuck.’ she exclaimed. ‘True, seeing me drunk is probably going to be such a non event.’

Jared threw back his head and laughed, pulling the beanie from his head and letting his hair tumble free before raking his fingers through it.

‘Bring your friend, that’s cool with me,’ he smiled down at her. He liked this girl. Whatever about the flirting and the excitement of working with someone he admired, he actually liked her. She was quickly becoming one of his favourite people.

Jared moved along the room, looking at each painting individually, stopping at the framed pictures along the fireplace. ‘Cute kid.’

‘Yeah. That’s my son, Darius.’

Jared whipped his head back to look at her, ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘I did not know you had a kid,’ he rested his eyes on her face, his focus soft as he imagined what she was like as a mom.

‘He’s grown now, in Texas for school.’

Jared wanted to tell her she couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. ‘How grown is he?’ His brows furrowed.

‘He will be 21 next weekend, actually.’

Jared’s jaw dropped, searching her face for any kind of indication that she was messing with him. On seeing her gaze drop to the drink in her hands, he took a step towards her. ‘Sorry.’

‘For what?’ Stef looked back up at him.

‘My reaction, I didn't mean any disrespect.’

‘That’s usually people’s reaction, honestly. I’m not offended. Most people can’t believe I have a 20 year old son. And yes, I was 16 having him. Teenage mom.’

‘Damn. That’s admirable. I appreciate it’s hard raising kids and I started my family in my late twenties!’

Jared squeezed her arm a little before pulling away.

‘Did the dad stick around?’ Unsure if whether he wanted to ask the question or not but he felt he needed to know more about this woman. The more time he spent with her, the more of an enigma she seemed to be.

Stef cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. ‘Yes, he did, we broke up years ago. But, luckily, we are still close.’

Jared pursed his lips and looked back at the photograph. ‘You keep that hidden well.’

‘Private life stays private.’ She stated. Jared nodded in agreement.

‘It’s not on your wikipedia.’

Stef could see he was hiding another grin.

They stood in silence. Both looking at the picture of the dark haired little boy tucked into his mothers side, smiling at the camera.

‘He’s studying to be a vet.’ Stef broke the silence. ‘He always loved animals. This house has had its fair share of odd creatures and creepy crawlies. A few times things would ‘go missing’ and I swear I couldn’t relax until they were found and locked away again.’ Shivering at the thought, she drained the last of her beer and motioned her head toward the kitchen.

Jared followed close behind, walking his fingers lightly up her spine. ‘Ugh,’ she cried out, ‘don’t do that.’ Grabbing his hand and pushed him away, fingers touching for a little longer than was necessary.

A disgruntled hiss startled them both out of their teasing.

‘Wow, that’s a huge pussy.’

Stef snorted a laugh and bend down to pet Brendan. ‘Jared, Brendan. Brendan, this is my friend Jared. You two will also have to be friends.’

CHAPTER THREE

#under your spell #jared padalecki #jared padalecki fic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fic #smut #fanfic #jared padalecki x ofc #oscar isaac x ofc #oscar isaac smut #real person fiction #spn #supernatural #jared padalecki fiction #jared x ofc #o'ready writes #nearly smut o'clock

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 5 years

Text

Live blogging the Hobbit pt.7

Flies And Spiders

I’ve been looking forward to this one.

“There were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo’s sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behinf tree-trunks.” I should write a fic about this myself, but I think it would be a funny scene to have Bilbo, with his sharper eyesight, mention the squirrels and the dwarves just. Have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about? What squirrels?? Bilbo: … the squirrels. Dwarves: wut. B:The squirrels that run around every once in a while. And him trying to point them out but being unable to because of their speed and their black colour. Eventually, after they’ve been in the woods a while, becoming irritable and kinda muddled and just really freaked out, Bilbo snaps and out of nowhere throws a rock at one of them, only stunning it, but effectively bringing it down. The dwarves are all like, Bilbo wtf, both because it was very sudden and because they didn’t know he had that good of an aim, but he just goes “you see it? you see it? oh thank heavens I was starting to think I was going crazy and just imagining it.” That’s when they decide to try to shoot them and eat them and when they realise… well, I’ll keep it for that bulletpoint.

“Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunneling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt that he was being slowly suffocated.”

Lmao why does he always get the worst of it? Tolkien, I’ll see you in hell.

“They tried shooting the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels.”

Here it is, back to the story, they hunt the squirrels, realise they’re gross, and are like, “Bilbo, you’re the most weirdly skillful yet useless person we’ve ever met.”

‘Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight.” Fili is the what

“All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling).”

why not

“They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and ere only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel.” It is kind of tacky, Bilbo

Double fuck, my bookmark fell off and the spine got cracked. This has literally never happened to me before D:<

In theory, leaving a mark that something’s been used and loved is a concept I like. In practice? This is bothering me.

“That night they ate the last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the nest thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor.” I mean, they’ve eaten the last of the food and they’re still hungry — chances are that even if they’d known they were almost out of the woods, they wouldn’t have made it anyway. (So certain authors can stow it.)

“There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle.” Why elvish-looking and not just elves?

“They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not for a long time at any rate. After blundering frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping crash into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch.” First off, I want to serve this as an example of and proof that Tolkien, while not going quite so low as to make scatological and fart jokes, used plenty of slapstick comedy. Second, oh my god you guys, that is not the way to find each other in the dark!

“Thorin said: ‘No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won’t be frightened of him--(‘What about me of them?’ thought Bilbo)-- and any way I hope they won’t do anything nasty to him.’” All praise the fearless and generous leader!

It reminds me of a fanfic I really like, still in progress, where the fanon dynamic for Bagginshield (and indeed, most common tropes of romance) gets subverted by having Thorin trust and rely on Bilbo to protect him instead of being overprotective. It was started after the first movie but before the others, and I can really see it in the book. (Of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that Tolkien didn’t write it to be romantic.)

“‘They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place,’ he mutteres, ad he lay down beside the dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find his dream again.” Dwarf(and hobbit)pile!

“He was deep in thoughts of bacon and eggs and toast and butter when he felt something touch him. Something like a strong sticky string was against his left hand, and when he tried to move he found that his legs were already wrapped in the same stuff, so that when he got up he fell over.

Then the great spider, who had been busy tying him up while he dozed, came from behind him and came at him.” Almost executed for daydreaming about breakfast in the middle of Mirkwood at night crimes.

“He beat the creature off with his hands--it was trying to poison him to keep him quiet, as small spiders do to flies--until he remembered his sword and drew it out.”

Bilbo: *balls up fists and swings them like cartoon boxer* Let’s do this Shire style!

But also, I want to point out that it says he beat it off not tried to beat it off. That implies success.

Also, I’m kind of freaked out at the implication that that’s a small spider.

“Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke; and then he fell down and remembered nothing more for a long while.

There was the usual dim grey light of the forest-day about him when he came to his senses.” Fair.

“Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his was as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grow--up he had still spent a deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort--indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven’t had time to tell you about. There is no time now.” There are so many levels of hilarity here, like

1- Bilbo used to be a fucking menace. And he didn’t quite get over it either!

2- They only ran away when he stooped? This just makes me think that he might have done nice things to make them at least tolerate him otherwise, instead of outright avoiding him or attacking him. Like, “ah, it’s that little boy, who’ll either feed us, he’s so nice and- uh oh he stooped, time to go boys.” Alternatively, it’s genetic memory warning them away from Bilbo. I was thinking maybe it was about all hobbits, but it does say “until they got out of his way”, meaning there was a time when they didn’t.

3- That’s such a hilariously late time in the story to introduce us to the fact that the main character has not only good aim but a strong enough arm to throw a stone right through a giant spider’s web, which would be thicker and probably more durable than the normal variety, already stronger than steel. And then kill the spider on the other side.

4- “Other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort.” Idk man, other games of the sort, figure it out yourself.

5- I want to know about the other stuff Bilbo can do.

“This is what he sang:

Old fat spider spinning in a tree!

Old fat spider can’t see me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Won’t you stop,

Stop your spinning and look for me?

Old Tomnoddy, all big body.

Old Tomnoddy can’t spy me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Down you drop!

You’ll never catch me up your tree!

Not very good perhaps, but then you must remember that he had to make it up himself, on the spur of a very awkward moment.” Tolkien, shut up, it’s beautiful.

Also, lol, about to be eaten by spiders, how awks.

“Standing now in the middle of the hunting and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up his courage and began a new song.” Bilbo: If I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be as annoyingly as possible.

Honestly, though, this is my favourite song in the book.

“Bilbo’s next job was to loose a dwarf.” Very different from losing a dwarf, which he’s already done x14 (Thorin counts twice, especially considering he hasn’t even realized he’s lost him yet).

“Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings for them. How it darted to and fro! It shone with delight as he stabbed at them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.” Bilbo’s gone berserk.

Also, Sting shone with delight? What a bloodthirsty blade.

“Away behind them now the shouting and singing suddenly stopped.” DUN DUN DUUUUUN

“Things were looking pretty bad again, when suddenly Bilbo reappeared, and charged into the astonished spiders unexpectedly from the side.

‘Go on! Go on!” he shouted. “I will do the stinging!”

And he did. He darted backwards and forwards, slashing at spider-threads, hacking at their legs, and stabbing at their fat bodies if they came too near. The spiders swelled with rage, and spluttered and frothed, and hissed out horrible curses; but they had become mortally afraid of Sting, and dared not come very near, now that it had come back. So curse as they would, their prey moved slowly but steadily away. It was a most terrible business, and seemed to take hours.” Love this part. All very heroic.

“They knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times. Some of them even got up and bowed right to the ground before him, though they fell over with the effort, and could not get on their legs again for some time.” I can imagine Bilbo all flustered, going “good. Hope you’ve learned your lesson and won’t be doing that again. Limit yourself to fawning.”

“All of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye, and looked round at them. ‘Where is Thorin?’ he asked.”Lmao, finally!

“They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise.” Feral.

“All this was well known to every dwarf, though Thorin’s family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel I have spoken of. Consequently Thorin was angry at their treatment of him, when they took their spell off and he came to his senses.” Another change done for the movie: Thorin’s family wasn’t involved in the feud.

Also lmao this weapon, a prisoner and all “how dare you”.

I’m not going to talk about the conversation between Thorin and Thranduil bc it’s probably been done to death.

Definitely my favourite chapter this far. Main character’s skills and learned courage begins to show? Check. He uses them in a fight that gives him extra confidence? Check. Heroics mixed with witty commentary and one-liners? Check. Team begins to see them in a new, more positive light? Check. Elves being made fun of and painted as kinda ridiculous? Check. (This one’s very subjective ig.)

#The Hobbit #liveblogging #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield III #dwarves #hobbits #The Company of Thorin Oakenshield #Gandalf #Elves #Mirkwood #Spiders

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aprilqueen84 · 5 years

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When You Least Expect It (5/?)

A/N: Here is the next chapter, this is probably my favorite chapter so far and I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it. Also a huge thanks to @hollyethecurious for being my new beta.

Summary: Killian and Emma had been wanting to start a family for a while now but not had any luck. Soon they would learn that the best things happen when you least expect it. Except not everything is as is seems.

Tag List: @hollyethecurious, @xemmaloveskillianx, @resident-of-storybrooke, @winterbaby89, @nikkiemms, @jennjenn615, @kymbersmith-90, @kmomof4, @lieutenantpirate, @teamhook, @ilovemesomekillianjones

“The Calm”

Two days later on a beautiful Saturday morning, the three of them were on their way to the docks to begin their voyage. As soon as Emma pulled into the lot, Henry was out of the Bug before it was even in park. “Someone’s excited,” Emma chuckled as she and Killian got out of car.

“Aye love, it’s not everyday that a young man gets to sail a fine vessel like the Jolly Roger by himself,” Killian said giving her a cheeky grin as they made their way hand in hand down the docks.

Henry was waiting for them impatiently at the bottom of the gangplank. “Finally! Come on let’s go,” he said as he raced up to the deck.

When Killian and Emma made it onto the deck, Killian walked over to Henry and clasped him on his shoulder, “Henry lad, calm down. it’s not wise for a captain to be impatient because-”

“Because impatience make for mistakes, I know. I guess I’m just a little nervous,” Henry said. Contrite in his behavior, he looked over to Emma. “Sorry, mom.”

Emma smiled at him and put a hand on his arm. “It’s ok, kid. It’s alright to be a little nervous, but we know you are going to do great, and just know that Killian will be right there if you need him, okay?” He nodded his head at her and she gave his arm a squeeze. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

After they prepared the Jolly to set sail, they were off with Henry at the helm. He guided them smoothly out of the harbour and into open waters. Their destination was a small stretch of beach about ten miles down the coast, isolated but still within Storybrooke’s limits.

Emma stood by the railing staring out at the water when Killian came up behind her and slipped his arms around her middle. She smiled and leaned back against him. “Hey! How is everything going?”

“Fantastic, love He’s such a natural,” Killian said with pride in his voice.

Emma turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck. “Well of course he is. He was taught by a former Royal Naval lieutenant and pirate.” She said, beaming up at him.

He gave her one of his bashful smiles. “You flatter me, Swan. But honestly, he is such an amazing sailor, just like a Jo-” he stopped, catching himself before he could finish his sentence. “Sorry love, I almost misspoke,” he said with his head downcast.

Emma brought her hands up to his cheeks, and lifted his head to have him meet her eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. He is just as much of a Jones as he is a Swan, a Mills, and a Charming.” She pulled him into a hug, stroking the back of his neck soothingly. After they pulled away from each other Emma said, “I am so happy that you think of Henry as your son, okay, and I am so glad he has you in his life.”

He looked at her tenderly “I am so grateful to have both of you in my life.” He leaned forward and captured her lips, their arms tightening around each other as they completely lost themselves in the moment.

“Oh come on guys! Really?” Henry called out to them in disgust.

They broke apart looking sheepishly at Henry. “Sorry, lad,” Killian said. Though, he anything but.

Henry just shook his head and pointed out in front of him. “We’re here. Killian, is this a good place for us to anchor?” he asked as he began to steer the ship parallel to the shore.

“Aye Henry, keep the old girl steady and I’ll drop the anchor.” Killian moved over and pulled the lever that dropped the anchor, while Emma went below deck to collect their bags.

Sometime later, after they had some lunch, Emma sat on a blanket that they had placed on the sand and watched Killian and Henry sword fight. She smiled fondly at them, always amazed at how much Henry had learned from Killian over the years. The two of them made a flurry of movements that ended in Henry disarming Killian with a twirl of his sword.

Henry stared down at Killian’s sword laying on the ground before he gave a excited shout, while Killian let out a hearty laugh. “Excellent, my boy! First rate technique.” He picked up his sword from the sand and sheathed it then walked over to Henry and gave him a clap on the back. They spoke quietly to each other before they both nodded their heads and turned to Emma. “Did you see that, Swan? The perfect disarming.”

“It was amazing, kid,” Emma praised.

“Oh it was nothing,” Henry stated with a shrug of his shoulder.

“Now don’t be modest, lad. You bested me, and not many people can say they have beaten Captain Hook in swordplay,” Killian said beaming with pride.

“Killian’s right you were excellent, Henry.”

“Thanks mom, Killian,” he paused, looking down the beach then back to them. “Hey, I’m going to take my sketch book and go draw for awhile.” Henry bent down to open his backpack and pulled out his book and pencils.

“Okay, kid but stay kind of close alright? We are going to be heading back soon,” Emma told him as Kilian settled down next to her on the blanket. Henry nodded his head before heading down the beach.

Killian turned to Emma with a devilishly handsome grin as soon as Henry was out of sight. “Alone at last.” Leaning forward, he caught her lips in a passionate kiss, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pulled her flush against him.

Emma let out a muffled gasp of surprise, not expecting him to be so bold with Henry so close. “Mm... Killian, wait a minute.” She pulled back slightly breathless, but that didn’t deter Killian. He began placing feather light kisses to her cheek then started down her neck. “Hey easy tiger, what about Henry?” she said, putting a hand to his chest and pushing him gently back.”

“Don’t worry, love. Henry is not going to bother us,” he said playing with a lock of her hair.

Emma gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“That my gracious step-son is giving his mother and I a little alone time,” he informed her with a raise of his eyebrow.

Emma stared at him for a minute before remembering the two of them talking after their sword practice. Suddenly, her eyes went wide, “Oh God! Please tell me you two didn’t agree to-”

Killian stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Swan stop, it’s not like that. This was all Henry’s doing. He wanted us to have some alone time together today,” he told her hoping to calm her.

She relaxed a little. “Really?”

“Aye, it was a bit of a surprise to me as well, love. Why do you think he brought his drawing supplies?” He stood suddenly and held his hand out to her. “So, how about it Mrs. Jones, care to go for a romantic stroll with your husband?”

She smiled at him and placed her hand in his to allow him to pull her to her feet. “Lead the way, Captain.” He lifted her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles before tucking it into the crook of his arm, leading them down the beach, arm in arm.

When they eventually made their way back, Henry was waiting for them by the blanket. “Hey kid. You weren’t waiting very long, were you?”

Henry shook his head. “Nah, I just got back myself,” he said as he put his things back into his backpack.

They decided it was time to head back home. As they were packing up, Emma noticed that Killian kept looking off into the distance. “Killian what’s wrong?”

“There’s storm clouds rolling in,” he said pointing to the sky.

Emma turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Dark, almost pitch black clouds could be seen on the horizon, and were coming toward them fast. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to rain today.”

“It’s not,” he said concerned. “We need to get back to the Jolly, now!” They hurried and gathered the rest of their things.

When they made it back to the to the ship the wind had picked up, and rain was just starting to come down. “Henry! Help me tie everything down. Emma, go below deck and close the portholes,” he commanded, going into full captain mode.

When Emma came back up, Killian and Henry were tying the last rope to the wheel. While she had been below deck the weather had gotten worse. The rain was now coming down in sheets, hitting her skin like shards of glass, and the waves were beating against the sides of the ship with enough force to rock it.

Killian spotted her by the hatch, holding on to it after a gust of wind engulfed them. “Emma!” He called out to her, but it was obvious she could not hear him over the howling winds. He grabbed Henry by the arm, and they made their way over to her. “Are you alright, love?” She nodded her head and held onto him tightly.

“Killian, what’s going on?” Emma shouted over the deafening wind.

“I don’t know love, but you and Henry need to get below deck,” Killian said while gently pushing Henry towards the open hatch.

Emma shook her head. “What about you?”

“There are still a few things I need to tie down, and then I’ll follow,” he explained, turning her towards the hatch as well.

As Henry started down the stairs, Emma faced Killian. “No! You can’t stay up here, this storm is getting worse.” No sooner had the words left her mouth, a bolt of lighting came out of nowhere and struck the bow of the ship, the force of which sent them falling onto the deck.

Killian rolled, taking the brunt of the impact. “Are you are alright, Swan?” he asked as they slowly made their way to their knees, his hand going to her cheek.

Emma nodded her head. Her eyes suddenly widened and she scrambled over to the hatch door that had slammed shut. Yanking it open, she yelled, “Henry!” as Killian came to her side.

There was silence for a second until Henry’s voice called out “Yeah mom, I’m fine!”

Both their bodies sagged in relief that their son was okay. “Stay there lad, we’re coming down.” When Killian faced Emma, he saw her eyes wide with fear at something behind him. He turned, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

Coming toward them, almost in slow motion, was a wall of water about one hundred feet high. They both sprang to their feet.

“Bloody Hell!” he exclaimed.

Emma looked to him. “Killian, what do we do?” she asked, her voice trembling in fear.

Killian looked at Emma, then to the wall of water that was getting closer. “Nothing more we can do but brace ourselves” he said as he pulled her closer.

They heard the sound of rapid foot falls on deck. “Mom! Dad!” Henry yelled as he reached them, “I saw it coming through the window.”

The three of them huddled together on the deck, arms around each other, not knowing if this was going to be their final moments together. Emma looked at the two most important men in her life and pressed a hand against each of their cheeks. “I love you both so much,” she said tearfully.

She pulled them close, eyes tightly shut, waiting for the impact when suddenly everything, the rain, the wind stopped. They lifted their heads and watched in amazement as the wall of water disappeared, and the sky became clear right before their eyes.

They looked at each other in shock. There was absolutely no trace of the storm. Other than being soaked to the bone, it was like it never happened.

“What the hell just happened?” Emma asked in disbelief.

Killian stared out in front of them, thinking. He had seen many storms over his long life, and there was only one reason for a storm to appear and disappear like this one had. He looked over to Emma and Henry, “Magic.”

“No!” The cloak figure yelled in anger as she stood over a bowl sitting atop the table. She had been so close to getting The Savior and The Pirate removed from the picture. She didn’t know how it happened. The spell was perfect and undetectable, it should have worked. She was running out of time, she needed the child’s magic, and she would get in no matter what.

The End

#Captain Swan #when you least expect it #Captain Cobra #captain cobra swan #married captain swan #emma swan jones #henry mills #killian jones

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carlsophialydia · 5 years

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“Oh yeah and then Lydia taught me how to do this cool trick with the yo-yo I found yesterday-“, said Sophia between a mouthful of salad when she was interrupted by Maggie.

“I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it sounds like you’re in love with her,” she said with a chuckle.

At this Sophia went bright red, her eyes the size of the plate in which she was eating the food she narrowly avoided choking on.

“W-what I-I’m not- that’s ridiculous-“

“Oh my god, Sophia relax, I’m just kidding,” said Maggie interrupting her for the second time in the past minute.

Sophia laughed nervously, She definitely wasn’t into Lydia, at all, I mean could you imagine? but she did know she was bisexual. She liked girls. She liked boys and she thought nothing of it most of the time, except for every now and then when the old preconceptions of society crept up on her from time to time.

But Maggie’s response left her confused I mean did she say that because she was fine with it? Was it because the idea of two girls being together seemed like a joke?

She quickly pushed those thoughts out of her mind and turned her attention back to trying to make things less awkward.

“Hey mom? Carl and Lydia are doing some shooting practice after Carl’s finished with work, can I join them? I promise I’ll be safe and the practice range is only just outside the gates.”

Maggie sighed and ruffled Sophia’s hair as she stood up to take her plate to the kitchen.

“Sure you can, just promise you’ll be back before it gets dark and if you see more than two roamers, start heading back just in case of a herd, no matter what, okay?”

“Yay! Thank you mom! I’ll be safe I promise!,” said Sophia giving Maggie a quick hug and scoffing down the rest of her dinner.

“I’m going to put Hershel to bed now and I think you should go to sleep too since you’ll need your energy tomorrow,” said Maggie, kissing Sophia on the top of her head and making her way to over to Hershel’s bedroom.

Sophia didn’t really know Lydia all that well. She was the kind of friend you had that you have where you kind know each other but..not really. They’d only ever spent time together briefly and it was mostly just because Carl wanted to hang out with both of them so they just happened to be around each other.

She knew that Lydia and Carl kind of had a thing when they first met. She didn’t know all the details but she knew it was brief and the two of them ended up both deciding they were better off as friends.

It was strange, Carl was her best friend but Lydia, who she’d only known for a little while yet she stuck in her head a lot.

Sophia was awoken by the sunlight that spilled through her bedroom and managed to make its way to her eyes.

“Shit,” she whispered after turning her head to look at the clock on the wall. She was supposed to be meeting Carl and Lydia I’m ten minutes.

After speedily changing into a lilac t-shirt, a flannel over-shirt and jean shorts she rushed out the door, while tying the laces to her left shoe and yelling a quick goodbye to Maggie and Hershel, if they were even home.

She finally arrived at the Earl Stutton’s, her heart racing, her hands on her knees and her head down trying to catch her breath.

She looked up saw and Lydia with her arm rested on Carl’s shoulder which made her feel that funny feeling again that she hated. That feeling of anger that she didn’t understand.

She walked over to them, still a little out of breath.

“You look like you ran here from Alexandria,” Carl joked, “Anyway, I’ve got to stay back and help Earl with some stuff, sorry.”

Sophia felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at that thought of being alone with Lydia and wished she could just cut them out of her. Damn it, maybe Maggie was right..

“Hello...earth to Sophia?,” Carl said waving his hand in front of her face.

“What? Oh, sorry I’m...I’m a bit tired, yeah um yeah that’s fine um...”

“You got your gun?,” asked Lydia.

“Yeah.”

“Then lets go, you lead there way,” Lydia responded.

“Wow you have good aim,” Sophia said in reference to Lydia managing to shoot right on the target on her second try.

“Yeah, Carl said I could ‘give his mom a run for her money’ but I don’t think so,” Lydia responded, smiling softly.

Softly at the idea of Carl, Sophia thought bitterly.

“So um...what’s up with you and Carl, I mean you’re pretty close,” Sophia asked, her heart beating a mile a minute, mentally kicking herself for that question.

“Well I mean I care about him a lot. He’s special to me, he was one of the first people to ever properly care about me,” Lydia answered.

“Yeah. He’s nice,” Sophia responded, shooting her gun immediately afterwards, possibly out of bitterness.

“Yeah I mean, I thought I loved him. I mean I do love him but just not like that you know? He’s the best friend I could ever ask for but...I just don’t feel that way about him. I used to but it’s different.”

“Yeah...he’s special to me too,” Sophia responded, blushing.

“Wait, is that why you just asked me about Carl? so you can snatch him up?,” asked Lydia, harshly.

“What-no-no we’ve been best friends since we were little it’s-it’s not like that,” Sophia stammered.

“Okay, sorry. I guess I care about who you’re into a bit more than I thought-I-I mean like I’m protective over Carl is what I mean.”

“Oh so you think I’m not good enough for your golden boy, huh?,” Sophia said angrily, she didn’t know if she was angry because she was offended or angry at the fact that she was head over heels for someone who was obviously still hung up on her best friend.

“What? No! I never said that! I-,” Lydia stopped, her voice changing from bitter to melancholy.

“Sophia, I-I don’t understand. You obviously don’t like me and if it’s not about Carl then-it must be about me. Why did you agree to do this with me if you don’t like me?,” the hurt in her voice was obvious as it cracked a little while she held back tears.

“What are you kidding? I do like you, Lydia! I like you a lot actually I-“

Sophia stopped talking and gasped as a roamer grabbed her shoulder.

She was quick to move but as she did her gun fell from her hand.

“FUCK!”

Lydia ran and grabbed it from behind, turned it around and stabbed it in the head, it’s body feel on top of her and she pushed it off panting.

“Shit, Sophia are you okay?”, Lydia screamed, she was properly crying now and her front was covered in blood.

“Yeah...I’m okay,” said Sophia in shock, “Thank you if you didn’t...”

“Don’t,” Lydia said solemnly.

“Lydia..your shirt.”

“I’m fine...I’ve had worse,” Lydia responded, drying her tears.

“Lydia, you know Carl’s gonna go crazy if he finds out I almost died please,” Sophia took her flannel over shirt off and handed it to her.

“Yeah you’re right.”

Lydia made quick work of removing her shirt and used the bandana that was around her neck to clean off the blood that had soaked through.

Sophia was red as a traffic light and as flustered as ever, seeing Lydia standing there in nothing but her bra and jeans, panting and rubbing bandana over her not so surprisingly strong body.

“So um...do you think we should continue or head back,” Sophia asked, suddenly very interested in anything around her that wasn’t Lydia buttoning up her flannel shirt.

“Sophia...”

“Um yes?”

“What were you gonna say before that roamer showed up?,” Lydia enquired, moving closer to Sophia.

“Um just that...I-I do like you. I-I like you, Lydia,” Sophia stammered, her eyes taking in every feature of her face.

“Okay...I’m gonna try something,” Lydia responded, so quietly that Sophia wouldn’t have heard it if their faces weren’t two inches apart.

Then they were one inch apart

And then they were none.

Lydia kissed Sophia softly yet desperately. She kissed her like she almost lost her today, she kissed her like she’d liked her for long time but was too afraid to admit it.

Sophia kissed Lydia like she’d been dreaming of this moment, she kissed her like she’d been in denial about her feelings for too long.

Sophia suddenly broke the kiss.

“Shit! How am I supposed to tell me mum that I’ve had my first kiss? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL HER THAT MY FIRST KISS WAS WITH A GIRL?”

“Do you want your second kiss to be with a girl?” Lydia asked, smirking.

“God yes!” Sophia responded smashing their lips together once again.

Lydia giggled against Sophia’s lips, breaking the kiss.

“I think we should start heading back now,” said Lydia softly, stroking Sophia’s cheek.

“They’re back!” shouted the guard by the gates of Hilltop.

This didn’t just just draw the attention of the guy manning the the gate, as Maggie had been quite worried about Sophia being outside the gates this late, it had gotten dark almost an hour ago.

Carl rushed to the gates as they walked through.

“Ten more minutes and I was about to go out looking for you two-“ he paused

“Is that Sophia’s shirt? Are you holding hands?”

The two of them blushed.

“Lydia, people are staring let go of my hand,” Sophia whispered through her teeth, blushing like crazy as Lydia wrapped her arm around her instead and winked at her.

#my friends suggested i write sophydia with the prompts ‘you’re in love with her.’ and ‘people are staring’#sophydia #twd #the walking dead #comics #sophia greene #lydia #lydia twd #femslash #wlw #fanfic #fic #one shot

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castcharmperson · 5 years

Text

Speed Trap: Part IV

[Start]

This is by far the longest chapter, coming in at just over 3k. Also the most warning heavy chapter, featuring offscreen violence, kidnapping, arson, and general danger.

It wasn’t his final con, Taako decided, but tonight was his final night. Late nights were always busy, lots of cash to be made, but that was also when real crime tended to happen. He’d been calling Ren so frequently, he was worried she was starting to suspect him. She still took him seriously, always sent back up that he’d watch drive by, but her tone was shifting. He’d hear a pen scratching as he talked, taking notes that he was pretty sure weren’t station protocol. Besides, being around actual criminals was skeeving him out- Taako was may be breaking the law but he wasn’t like them.

He wasn’t like Lup or Kravitz either though, a fact he tried to remind himself of as he took his final bribe for the evening. Whoever this guy was didn’t seem to learn his lesson, speeding off again the second Taako was done with him.

“Asshole.” He should maybe follow him again. He didn’t get a license number to call in- the street lamp was too far away and the sliver of the moon was barely casting a glow. But what would be the point? There wasn’t any more cash to get and the guy had paid a generous donation to the ‘officer spring baseball fund’. No one else was on the empty highway. A little speeding wouldn’t really hurt anyone.

He was already back in his own car, flipping off his flashing light, when he heard tires screech. Turning on his brights along the dark road, he drove ahead only a half mile before seeing the car he’d just pulled over wrecked against the sign of an abandoned Pizza Hut. “What the fuck?”

Taako wasn’t about to jump out of his car and rush in, but something about this whole thing was weird. No one was left at the sight of the crash. Weirder still, light was coming from inside the Pizza Hut. Even if the windows weren’t boarded up, it wouldn’t be open at this hour.

There was a scream, decidedly not belonging to the guy he’d pulled over, and that was too much for Taako to sit around waiting on. He grabbing his flashlight from where he’d tossed it onto the passenger seat, killed the engine on his car, and ran out.

Looking over the wreck showed signs of a struggle. He had to do a double take, but it looked like someone had clawed through the backseat from the trunk. Another scream and he focused on the Pizza Hut. “Fuck, I do not steal enough to deal with this kind of shit,” but Taako crept forward, lowering his center of gravity and keeping out of view from the broken down door.

“Cam, you’ve got to stop screaming or we’re really going to have a problem.”

“Get off me, you sadistic fuck!“ There was the sound of a slap, then of duct tape ripping. Taako peered up, seeing the man he’d pulled over tying up someone apparently named Cam.

“Now now, we had a deal. And then you went and crashed my car.” The man stalked around Cam, circling, as though this was his own personal stage instead of an empty fast food joint. As he turned, for a split second, Taako was terrified they had locked eyes. He dropped down, panting as he scrambled for his cell phone and dialed for Ren.

There were footsteps and Taako ended the call before it could connect. He dodged away from the building, rolling along the gravel as he switched off his flashlight.

“Fuck, I don’t have time for this,” the man sounded put upon, like someone brought rain to his barbecue rather than interrupted his kidnapping. “Lydia’s only a few blocks down, we can walk.”

There was some pretty intense scuffling sounds, but Taako didn’t let curiosity get the better of him. The door to the Pizza Hut was kicked open, and the man was leading Cam out with his hands tied behind his back.

“Listen, Edward, Eddie, come on. Our deal is still good. You don’t have to do this. I can get you anything you want. I’ve got connections, you know that, keeping me alive will bring you so many more-“

“If you don’t shut up,” this Edward guy was so terrifyingly calm. There was a quick movement and Taako caught the glint of a knife. “I will shut you up. Understood, dear?”

Cam nodded and the pair started walking through the grass away from the abandoned lot.

Taako was shaking, sitting behind the corner of the crumbling building, gravel digging into the pants of his stolen uniform. He should get in his car and go home. Get in his car and maybe call Ren. Tell her about suspicious activity by the neighborhood he knew was a few blocks in the direction Edward and Cam were walking. He should turn around and pretend he was never here.

That Cam guy was probably scum, talking about connections, probably worked with this Edward and Lydia duo before they got sick of him. Taako owed him nothing. Taako didn’t owe anyone anything! He should go home.

Instead, he stood, following the pair through the tall grass, hiding in the shadows cast around street lamps while they walked through a set of cookie cutter houses, stopping at one. Cam and Edward walked up the porch, and Taako ducked behind a bush to get out his phone. With one last glance back, he froze. Edward definitely saw him this time. He paused in the doorway after pushing Cam inside. His eyes narrowed, then gave Taako a smile that made his skin crawl. Edward placed a single finger to his lips, winked at him, then turned to go inside.

“I’m going to die,” Taako concluded as he sank back down. He didn’t hang up on Ren for the second time, but he got no signal while hiding in this shrub. “I’m literally going to die.”

There was shouting in the house, nothing Taako could understand, but there was the sound of a car starting. “Fuck,” he didn’t have much time. Scrambling away from the bush, he ran to the door. He didn’t even need to pick the lock, Edward had left it open. “Ohmygod, ohmygod I’m going to die,” he whispered even as he pushed the door open, grateful there weren’t any squeaky hinges, and made his way into the house. It was empty, a lone couch stood with a sheet over it, but there was nothing else.

Lup had taken him to a party in this neighborhood, only a few months ago. Something her boss was hosting or whatever. When they left the party, he and Lup walked around the block to her car and laughed at how every single house they passed was the same. That night had been been full of people and different furniture, but the bones were the same as this house. Taako traced along the wall next to the stairs until he found the breaker box. At the party, it had been covered by the ugliest painting he’d ever seen. The host tried to justify that it was covering the equally ugly metal door to the fuses. “It’d be less ugly if I was looking at the door, ma’am.” He’d said and Lup had to choke down a laugh before she slapped him on the arm and apologized to her boss.

It had been a fun night. He wondered if he and Kravitz had only just missed running into each other.

Taako forced himself to focus, flipping down the switch labelled ‘garage’ just as the telltale sound of a mechanical door started to rise. It stopped, then slammed against concrete. “Old house, old power. Next time we’re breaking and entering for real,” someone who sounded almost like Edward shouted. A door slammed and there were footsteps come towards him again.

“I thought I was pretty clear. Keep quiet about this and we wont have any trouble. This looks like trouble.” Edward still sounded so calm. Taako didn’t think twice before slamming all the fuses, plunging the house into darkness. “Now that wasn’t very nice.”

Taako sprinted for the front door and slammed it behind him. Phone in hand, he tried calling the station again as he ran along the side of the house, ducking below the windows. When the line went through, he could have sobbed. “Ren, oh thank god, get Lup to Mirkwood Court in-“

“Who is this! You think I didn’t see you try to get a call in tonight? Think I haven’t listen to you fake an accent every other week? We do not encourage vigilantism in this city!”

“Ren, listen-“

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“Ren please! I need Lup-“

“I am going to track your number and-“ Whatever rant she was gearing up for stopped. “Sir, are you okay?”

“No! Ren, there is a hostage situation at 51 Mirkwood Court in Winter county. Please get Lup down here now!”

She sucked in a breath, sound crackling through the phone, drawing whatever dreadful conclusion as to how a civilian could know of a kidnapping. “Sir, please stay on the line, we’re sending someone to you right now.”

“It better be fucking Lup,” he hissed, scrambling around the back of the house as he heard the footsteps crunching on the dewy grass.

“She’s out of the office right now, but-“

“Then whoever you’re sending should pray they’re half as good as she is!”

“Sir, stay on the li-“ But Taako had already hung up. Any more sound and he was going to get caught. He looked back, expecting Edward to be towering over him. Instead, nothing. Then all the lights in the house turned on at the same time.

“We might as well close up here,” Edward said. Fuck, he sounded bored. Was chasing a potential witness not important enough to him? What was wrong with this guy? Taako crouched under one of the windows, watching as a woman of Edward’s height dragged Cam into the living room.

“You wanna do it?” She must be Lydia, Taako concluded, as she brought out a much larger knife.

“Oh no, I got to grab him, you can have this part.” They grinned at each other and there was something sickening about their joy right now. Footsteps clacked closer to the window and Taako dropped down again. “But make it quick, we’re going to have company soon.”

Taako’s hand was over his mouth, trying not to breathe too hard, trying not to sob, not to throw up. What the hell did he care what happened to this Cam guy? He called the cops, did all he could do. Why was he still here?

There was a swish, a slick sound, and a muffled scream that felt like it went on forever. Taako was definitely going to puke if he didn’t move right. now.

He should have ran around the back, ran to his car by the Pizza Hut, and gone home. Instead, he was at the front door again and he kicked it open. “This is the Neverwinter Police! Put your hands up!” He dropped his voice, brandishing his flashlight in a strobe, trying to give the illusion of having a weapon ready.

“Ruining all our fun,” Edward sighed, voice carrying through the house. “Lyd, go, I’ve got this.”

“What about Cam?”

“Oh, well, you know how old houses are. So easy to get lost in.”

There was shuffling, doors slamming, and Taako tried to make himself move forward into the house. Lights flashed behind him, red and blue, and he pushed in further. If he could get through the kitchen, maybe find this Cam guy on the way, and avoid Edward, there was a back door he could-

Car tires screeched and something crashed. Taako jumped, whipping around in a frenzy before realizing the bang was only something that fell over further into the house. Lydia was driving away, it sounded like one of the cop cars was following her, but Taako needed to focus on finding whatever made that noise.

“You know,” Edward started and Taako whipped around again. Fuck, where was he? “These old houses, just the worst electricity. Cheap wiring, so prone to…” A match sizzled and struck. “Bad luck.”

Whatever Edward had been hoping for, this blaze wasn’t it. Taako saw the flames start up from the breaker box, but there was no grand explosion, no dangerous wildfire. The sparks were enough though, the flames were spreading to the floor and smoke filling the room.

“Help!” Another bang, from a closet down the hall to Taako’s right, the opposite way of the kitchen.

“You’ve got to make a choice,” Edward said, and god, he sounded so close, but this time Taako refused to turn around. Fear or foolish bravery, he wasn’t sure which kept him in place, but as the fire crackled louder, he tried to listen for footsteps. “Save yourself, or save Cam. I’ve dumped enough gasoline to burn him alive in ten minutes. However, you wont get out before the real police come in if you don’t forsake him.”

There was a bullhorn outside, one of the officers demanding that hostages be released, that folks come out with their hands up and “We’ll talk about all this, calmly, like rational people!”

Nothing about this guy was ration, Taako knew that. Then again, it wasn’t like he was coming out the front of this house any time soon either. “And you think you’re getting out in time?” If Taako could just hear those stupid footsteps…

“So witty. So brave. Honestly, I’m impressed. If you ever want to quit this fake cop thing, definitely give us a call.”

“How did you-“

“Oh dear, you’re dreadfully unconvincing. Now tick-tock.” A single snap of heel on tile and Taako whipped around, smashing the side of his flashlight against something he really hoped was Edward.

“How convincing was that, dear.” Taako sneered, only enjoying his victory for a moment before more footsteps echoed in over the smoke.

“This is the Neverwinter Police! We gave you a warning, now I need everyone to put their hands- Oh shit, is that a fire?” There was a crackling of a radio as Kravitz called for backup.

Wait, Kravitz was here? Taako could recognize that voice in his sleep, but he would give anything to have misheard.

“Fuck,” Taako whispered. He scrambled back, down the hall, throwing open a closet door as Cam tumbled onto him. “Get the hell out of here and if I ever catch you with those assholes again, I am not rescuing you.”

“Yes officer! Thank you officer!” Cam was practically tripping over his feet, pushing past Taako to run for the back door. He was clutching his hand, blood staining the front of his shirt, and Taako felt sick all over again.

“Officer?” Kravitz turned down the hall and even through the smoke, they could see each other clearly. “T-Taako?”

“Uh, nope. I’m a smoke induced hallucination. You really should get out here, my man. Old houses like this don’t last long under this kind of heat.”

“You’re- you’re not a police officer. You’re a pastry chef and a retail manager.”

“Okay, I specialize in pastries, but I cook other stuff too. Really, Krav, hun, not the time for semantics.” Taako tried to walk past him, tried to get Kravitz to move out of this house. He could hear the beams on the second floor start to creak as they caught fire. “Come on.”

“Why are you wearing a police uniform?”

“Kravitz, this isn’t the- fuck!”

The smart thing to do would have been letting Edward attack. He was behind Kravitz, Kravitz wasn’t paying attention, it would have been an easy escape for Taako. No matter how handsome the officer was, a pretty face wasn’t worth going to jail for, or getting caught in a house fire during a botched kidnapping. Maybe it was more than the pretty face, but Taako was not about to let Kravitz get stabbed. So, like an idiot, he barrelled forward, tackling Edward to the ground.

Kravitz joined the scuffle, but that only succeeded in getting the knife away from Edward. The smoke was thick above them, all the lights of the house flickering in a strange strobe. Taako thought he had the upper hand for a moment. Then he was shoved onto his back. Looking up, he expected death, but it was Kravitz holding him down.

“Tell me you are not working with the Wendor twins!” He shouted, eyes wide like Taako had betrayed him. They’d only just met, what was there to betray?

“The who twins? Look, I’m all for you being strong on top, but he’s getting away!” Taako barely started to struggle when Kravitz released him.

“You’re not working with him.”

“No! I stopped him from killing that other guy. Fuck, who you didn’t see but there was another guy that they took and- whatever! We’ll deal with the details later.” Taako ran down the hall, back into the main living room. He was wheezing, air unbreathable, but Edward was just as affected, swaying as he tried to move to the door, before realizing that’s where the police were and circling back, only to be faced with Taako and Kravitz again. Well, if the blow to the head didn’t knock him out, a concussion was just as good.

Without turning away from their target, Taako moved his hand towards Kravitz. “Gimme your handcuffs.”

“What? No.”

“Krav, trust me,” Taako was already moving forward, keeping Edward’s attention as they circled around the single couch.

“You have done literally nothing to earn my trust.” And yet, the handcuffs flew through the air for Taako to catch.

He lunged at Edward, taking him over the back of the couch. He was hardly successful in keeping him down, but the struggle was enough to get one handcuff on. Edward grabbed Taako’s leg as he scrambled to stand, to get some sort of leverage, and the pain felt impossibly sharp. Another knife? Or was this guy part time Wolverine? Either way, Taako fell back to the ground and Edward rose.

It was distraction enough, and Kravitz secured the remaining cuff. That only slowed Edward. He kept advancing as Taako scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall. A beam above them creaked, a suspended moment in which everyone in the house looked up. Edward stumbled backwards into Kravitz’s grip as the beam fell, bringing a firestorm with it.

“You got him?” Taako asked, forcing himself to his feet. His leg burned, and the stray embers landing on his pants were not helping.

“I got him. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I-” He coughed, bracing a hand against the wall before jerking it back. The heat was unbelievable. This house was not going to stand much longer. “Get out of here! I’ll go out the back.”

Kravitz frowned, but started dragging Edward to the front. Then he paused, and Taako was ready to scream. Why wouldn’t this idiot save himself? “You can’t wear an officer’s uniform. We need to handle this situation.”

“For the love of,” Taako stopped his staggering towards the kitchen. Lit by the eerie orange strobe, Kravitz looked divine. Not the time to appreciate the view, though. “You can handle me all out want later! How about we get out of the burning building first, huh?”

If Kravitz said something more to him, Taako didn’t hear. He turned and limped faster, as more of the second floor collapsed into the living room. Once he was out the back, his leg felt slightly less terrible and he pushed himself to a run. Kravitz would tell the other officers on the scene that there was another criminal escaping and Taako was not about to get caught.

He made it to his car, collapsing into the seat and locking the door. No officers chasing him, no kidnappers to chase. His leg still burned, but he could deal with that once he caught his breath. Taako waited another hour, dressing his leg with the rudimentary first aid kit he kept in the glovebox. No squad cars came his way. However, Edward’s wrecked car sat in front him the entire time. It was just a hunk of scrap metal now, but it felt like it was mocking him.

[Part Three] [Part Five]

Thanks for reading! The hardest part of this chapter was trying to make up a last name for the wonderland twins...

#taz #The Adventure Zone #taakitz #taz taako #taz kravitz #taz wonderland #au #speed trap au #so like. when i was rereading this taako almost feels ooc. cuz this is not a 'good out here' kind of chapter #but i think he's also the kind of guy to say 'fuck it im already dealing with this shit might as well deal with it right'#should i give a warning for cursing? cuz there are soo many f-bombs in this chapter #charmedwords

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