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#was going to draw a reply but I had this picture saved since yesterday and had to use it
candyheartedchy · 1 year
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Im just imagining after Bloom and DK duke it out they intensely stare at each other until finally they're like "God I love you"
And then maybe they smooch 😘
Bloom and DK after every fight:
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neonponders · 3 years
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It takes me a year to read anything so I’m still in Maurice, and thinking about Edwardian Harringrove ~
• • • • • • •
Steve crossed his knees like a man but reclined on the drawing room couch like an adolescent in an antiquity painting. In truth, he was not much older, but a man grown nonetheless.
The rain on the partially open window had threatened all day, finally beginning to sing on the glass and every so often, landing in the fire of the grate.
Footsteps moved through the room, going to the window to perhaps shut it. Steve knew those footsteps without looking, and it was the negligence to the window that lifted his mind out of his thoughts. He knew who shared the room with him twice over: footsteps and the impropriety of not shutting the window. A decent staff member would shut the window, no?
Their landscaper had always varied beside decent. Why did a landscaper even come inside? Then again, the Harringtons had connections. Heard the rumblings and whispers of something in Europe. They had long since cut costs to save money in case something happened. Something the rest of the country was too proud to notice or too busy to prepare for.
Extravagances which Steve had grown up with faded. The staff dwindled to the bare minimum to manage the property and house. And the Harringtons did what the elite did: they treated the most mundane tasks as ahead of a trend, and fun. His mother discovered she rather relaxed while ironing her own dresses - after destroying one in the process of learning. His father held himself higher and prouder than ever, being his own steward and making his own appointments.
Steve loved his parents, imbeciles though they were. A hard lesson he had not even realized he’d been learning, until he looked down upon his own feathers and realized they matched those around him.
“I went to another wedding yesterday.”
A receptive silence answered him from the window. Like the landscaper had paused his breathing to hear better. Then, “Another. It’s the season of weddings.”
Steve did not know why he spoke. Now that he had a response, he didn’t want to keep talking. He propped his head up on his fist, the very picture of sullen youth.
The young man at the window did not let silence reign. “Are you feeling like your invitation to your own wedding got lost?”
Varied beside decent. Perhaps strayed a good deal far from decent. It was not an appropriate question or conversation from a servant - staff, Steve. Call them staff. You’re not a king - but it landed exactly upon his feelings in such a way that made him unable to avoid thinking about it.
Finally he admitted, “No. I don’t feel pressured to get married. But my father married a younger person. I suppose I have a while left before they start wondering what’s taking so damn long.”
A soft huff of mirth floated from the window beneath the sound of rain. Steve lifted his head and blurted a bit sharply, “Are you going to close the window?”
“Do you want it closed?”
That gave Steve pause and he settled again on his fist. “No. Not yet.”
“Why are you thinking about a wedding, then? If you’ve already gone to so many.”
Steve exhaled, feeling the same low wall of reticence knocking against the knees of his mind. He had to step over it to reply, “This one was different.”
“A different faith?”
“No. It was outside.”
The rustle of textiles as the man rotated over the rug. Steve did not hear so much as felt the man move closer as he elaborated, “The others have been in churches. Old, stuffy, dusty bubbles. Boring. I felt like I was in a boring playhouse. Scripted lies.
“But yesterday was outside. It felt...different. Honest. It felt honest.”
“Things outside are usually more honest.”
The landscaper’s voice was lower than Steve’s, but he was not older. A memory, as brief as a sunspot on the interior of his eyelids, moved through Steve’s mind:
The steward who used to read to his mother in the evenings. She liked his voice. He was gone now.
The maid who used to iron his father’s jackets in his study while he worked on his speeches. She helped him memorize things and improve his jokes. She was gone too.
Steve smelled grass, bruised green on the young man’s trousers and in his fingertips. In the back of his mind, Steve knew this meant he had to be close, but Steve did not move. He let the fireplace cast the man into a silhouette, let that ghost draw ever closer.
“Maybe that’s why we have so many paintings of outside,” Steve wondered aloud, peering up at the one above the mantle. His mother prided herself on her collection of Renaissance paintings; found during various trips to the European Continent throughout Steve’s life. Swindled heirlooms from families and time, but what is a dusty canvas to a hot meal? People traded many existential things for their present, humble needs.
The painting above the mantle was just a youth walking through sunlit ruins; Roman or Greek, Steve did not know. Had never cared before. He’d only ever followed the lines of the kouros’ exposed legs and wondered if his own features were a bit like the ones in paint.
“I find that your type are always indulgent in truths because you live in lies.”
Steve’s mouth flinched in a smirk.
His favorites were not on the walls, and he said as much. “That’s a way of putting it. My mother has others hidden away in her dressing room. Not like my father doesn’t know about them, but she’d tear the roof of if he sold them.”
“What are these paintings? More weddings?”
Steve glanced - finally looked - at him, and his mouth paused, open around words he’d meant to say. A rogue curl hung over startling blue eyes, that tress made gold by the firelight. Steve had read once that all painted figures where whores or lovers of the artist, but...all faces were ugly in comparison. How had artists failed so badly for centuries? Was their love, even honestly paid for, a lie too?
“No,” Steve chirped under his breath. “Of...what did they call it in school...Hellenistic ardor.”
“Your mother collects smut,” he appraised with a grin.
“Sure,” Steve shrugged, considering finding his cigarette case for something to do. “But who doesn’t? Unless you eat everything the church serves during Mass.”
The landscaper knelt on the floor beside him. The couch creaked against his weight leaning against it. “Oh, Christian art and faith are directly from Hellenistic ardor. Especially the Wilde sort.”
If Steve had held a cigarette, smoke would have sputtered from his mouth. As if he knew, his landscaper tilted his head like Steve were silly. “The Ecstasy of Saint Terese is telling  they can only enjoy intercourse if it’s from God. What excuse do men of the church have, then, commissioning all those lustful paintings of beautiful men?”
“By making martyrdom look decent,” Steve defended.
“And who killed most of those saints?” the beautiful man laughed. “The church is covering its ass and decorating its rooms like children finding their fathers’ pin-ups. Nothing more.”
Steve smirked again, impressed and annoyed. “You can’t talk like this with me.”
But he mirrored Steve’s posture, cushioning his head on his fist while his arm sat alongside Steve’s thigh. “I want to know what your favorite painting is.”
“Why?”
“I want to know what makes you sneak into your mother’s dressing room.”
“I didn’t say I did. I was allowed in there as a boy.”
“No you weren’t,” he smiled. Damn him, he called Steve’s bluff. When Steve’s own lips cracked into a smile, he explained, “You can’t remember those paintings unless you looked at them while you were in school, learning such terms as Hellenistic Ardor.”
“Fine,” Steve huffed. “It’s a kiss.”
Those dark brows, so contrarily dark compared to his Eros blond hair, furrowed. “What?”
“The painting. My favorite is a kiss.”
A hand waved in the air. “Well, go on.”
Steve’s eyes rolled. The mouth on this man. “It’s the most romantic kiss I’ve ever seen. It took me a long time to realize it’s between two men. Hellenistic and Wilde, indeed.”
For a moment, only the rain and fire moved through the air. Then his landscaper prompted, “What, are you waiting for a priest to cleanse you? Talk about it.”
“Have you always been this pushy?”
“Yes. I’m so glad you’re noticing.”
Steve sputtered through a laugh before he meant to. “One of the men looks like he’s dying, or in pain, or...just...deeper in the kiss than I ever thought possible. The other holds him through it, almost like he doesn’t love him to the same amount, or that his priority is holding him instead of feeling his own affection.”
“Is that wrong?”
Steve blinked vacantly at him. “What?”
“Is it wrong to experience passion differently? If one person is lost in their passion, it’s a decent lover to take care of them until their throes pass on.”
Steve’s brows reached for his hairline as he shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re a curious one to talk about decent.”
“You’ve never been in lo- ”
“I’ve been in love,” Steve countered, meeting the curious eyes gazing up at him. “Just not like that. Not like that painting.”
“Who do you want to be?”
Steve tried to keep his eyes on the fire. He failed. “What?”
“Do you want to be in love, or taken care of?”
It was Steve’s turn to grin like a wolf. “I’m a snob of aristocracy. I demand both of everything.”
That blond head nodded but said, “You’re lying about one thing.”
Steve’s breath ached in his lungs as that handsome face drew nearer. Grass and sunlight and -
“Aristocrats don’t long for either. They let their servants take care of them and passion is left to God’s marital duties or a whore’s coin purse.”
Steve’s eyes felt too heavy for his skull. He knew what he looked like, too; with heavy, tilted brow bones, he could look morose at the slightest unsettlement. A convenience to get what he wanted as a child; a humiliation to be respected as a man -
A hand touched his face, making his eyelashes flutter. The warm pad of a thumb slid down his cheek, pausing beside his mouth, and then landing beside his chin.
Steve blinked, letting his eyes stay closed while he wrestled internally. “You’re not a servant,” he breathed.
“What?” he felt on his lips.
“I’m not a king,” he heard himself say; his mantra escaping like the fire and rain might forge it into something stronger.
“You can thank your old gods for that.”
“Huh?”
“The ones who let me do this.”
A soft, fragile sound escaped him when that hand plunged into his hair to cradle his head. When that mouth closed over his own. Steve would never forget the softness of a man’s lips. He knew that in his bones like he knew he his own surprise and knew that he would crave this for the rest of his life. The slick warmth parting his lips and the dark sweetness of this man’s mouth tipped gravity, or whatever else held the fabric of this world upright.
Steve’s mind tumbled right with it as another little moan burst from him. Something guttural and young, yet compressed within him for too long.
He breathed heavily, panting into the humid space between them when it formed. Steve’s eyes opened slowly, and absorbed the blissful agony in those glass-blue eyes.
Hargrove, his mind supplied. I remember your name.
His own hand found those curls and his head tilted to capture his mouth again.
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kindahoping4forever · 3 years
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...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin
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Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)
Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...
Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize. 
Word Count: 10,555
Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above
Let  me  know  what  you  think!
“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.
Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”
You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”
“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.
“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen.  “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”
You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year. 
You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.
When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.
“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.
Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”
“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”
His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person. 
"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.
“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.
The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.
Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”
Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”
A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.
You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.
You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.
“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.
You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up. 
“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.” 
“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss. 
You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.
It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.
“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.
You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason. 
You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned. 
Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.
As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.
You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.
Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”
He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.
The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.
With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.
The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.
The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home. 
The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.
Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.
He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers. 
You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.
A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.
“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.
He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.
You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.
You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”
“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”
A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti. 
“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.
“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.
You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.
That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.
It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.
You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight. 
“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.
Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.
You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.
 "Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?" 
You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”
You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle. 
“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”
You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being  peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”
You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.
You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”
He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.
You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.
You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.
“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.
You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.
He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.
He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.” 
His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved. 
You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.
He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”
You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”
Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.” 
You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?” 
“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”
“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.
He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.
You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.
He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.
Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”
Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.
You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.
You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.
He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.
You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”
He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”
Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.
It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.
Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy. 
He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 
“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face. 
You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.
You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you. 
Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.
You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body. 
Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”
You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.
"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.
You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."
He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”
His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.
Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm. 
Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.
He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.
Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.
You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.
You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.
"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.
You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.
Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.
You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.
He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”
You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.  
Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.
Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.
With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.
He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”
You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”
You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.
“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.
The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.
He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”
You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.” 
“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away. 
He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”
“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.” 
“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.
You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”
He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”
“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”
“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.
“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.
The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.
“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”
“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.
“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.
You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”
Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old. 
Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.
After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.
“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”
“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.” 
You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”
“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs. 
“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”
“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.
You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.
You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.
He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.
He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”
“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.
The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.
During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.
Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”
He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”
“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.
You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.
He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin. 
He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”
You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”
A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure. 
“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.
“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.
As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring. 
You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.
His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.
“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.
“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”
“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”
“So did I.”
You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.
“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss. 
An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.
“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.
You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.
“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.
You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs. 
You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance. 
Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.
Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.
“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”
You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.
You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.
“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”
Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.
“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”
He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”
Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.
“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”
You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.
“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”
“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”
The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.
You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”
Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”
He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.
Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.
“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.
He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”
You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”
“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.
You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”
“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.” 
You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”
He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.
You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”
You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”
————-
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242 notes · View notes
kimistorm · 3 years
Text
Tomato Face [Nathaniel x f! Reader]
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Pairing: Nathaniel x F!reader
Warnings: None
AN: Experimental epistolary writing!
Dear Diary.
Nathaniel Kurtzberg is the prettiest boy I have ever met, and nobody can convince me otherwise. Not even Adrien Agreste. He is also an insanely talented artist. Even if he doesn’t believe he is. And...he just happens to be the one person in the entire school who stole my heart. He is just, so wonderful to be around. He’s so sweet and kind. Okay, so I’m crushing on him. So what? It’s not like he likes me. He never could. Could he? No, stop, stop getting your hopes up. Why would he like me? I’m just, normal. I don’t run a famous blog about Ladybug like Alya. I’m not loved by everyone in the school like Marinette. I’m not sweet and adorable like Mylène. I’m not rich like Chloe. Okay, maybe not the best comparison. I wouldn’t want to be like Chloe. I’m not an artist like Alix. Yeah, those two would get together. Both of them are artists. They’d do art together. Me? Well, I just like to vegetate and binge watch Netflix and YouTube. Maybe I could become a superhero! Like Ladybug and Chat Noir! Maybe then I’d have something interesting in my life. I’d be able to practically fly around Paris saving people. People would love me! I’d be a hero! But then...what if I didn’t have the time to watch all of Jacksepticeye’s videos? That’d be so bad! Miss Bustier told us to read Le Petite Prince and to compare that to the movie. Ugh. I don’t want to do this. It’s a book for children! Well, I’m going to binge My Hero Academia.
(y/n)
To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,
(y/n) is really nice. Pretty. Wonderful. Kind. Lovely. What is a crush? Is it normal to get butterflies in your stomach whenever you walk by a person? Why is my face always red whenever I’m near (y/n)? Why is it that I want her to notice me, but at the same time, I don’t want her to notice me because what if she sees me doing something weird and concludes that I am weird? Is it weird that I want to draw her? But what if she notices me staring at her? That’d be so awkward. It’s not like when I draw Ladybug. I don’t have to stare at Ladybug to draw her. I can just look at a picture, but with (y/n)...what if I took a picture of her? Then used that as reference? No, that’s even weirder. Then I just have a random picture of her on my phone. What if she sees? She’d definitely think I was a weirdo. Maybe Alix would know the answer to all of these questions. She’s a girl. No, that’s a bad idea. I don’t think Alix has a crush on anybody. She wouldn’t know. Why is human interaction so hard? It’s not like a drawing where you can plan out what happens and if you make a mistake you can erase it and it’s gone. Is this a crush? Is this what they call loving someone? But who wouldn’t like (y/n)? She’s got a beautiful smile. She’s very pretty. She’s very nice and kind to everyone. She’s almost like an angel. Oh….
Nathaniel
To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,
Mayday! Mayday! I told Alix about my feelings for (y/n), I don’t know why I did it. It just happened. We were talking and it just-AH! Good news, Alix didn’t laugh at me. Bad new, Alix called me “whipped.” She said that I’m totally head over heels for her and that I should tell her how I feel, but how am I supposed to do that? I’m nowhere near (y/n) in the day. It’s always been from afar. Watching. Oh no that sounds like I’m a stalker! She definitely thinks I’m a weirdo now! She’s some ethereal being, no way I could approach her. Maybe I could talk to one of her friends. Yeah, that would work. But, if I’m near one of her friends, what if I accidentally spill how much I’m in love with (y/n) and they tell her and then she thinks I’m a weirdo! Maybe I’ll get Alix to talk to her. But then, what if she thinks I’m a jerk because I don’t even talk to her? What if she thinks that I think that I’m too good for her? No way, she’s way out of my league. There’s no way she could like someone like me.
Nathaniel
Dear Diary,
What if I cosplayed Bakugou? Maybe then I would get off of my butt and do something. Nathaniel has been acting weird lately. Not that I’m stalking him or anything. He’s just been avoiding me, and I’m pretty sure he’s consciously doing that. Since we passed each other in the hall today and when I said hi, he turned around and walked the other direction without saying anything. Did I do something wrong? It hurts. Here I am, harboring this insane crush on him, and he’s ignoring my presence. I need to get over him. There’s no way he could like someone like me.
(y/n)
TO: THIS NOTEBOOK THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT MY DIARY,
THIS IS BAD THIS IS BAD THIS IS REALLY REALLY BAD. FOR SOME REASON, AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY, NINO GOT ME COFFEE THIS MORNING. BUT I DON’T DRINK COFFEE. AND SO THIS ENTIRE DAY I’VE BEEN AMPED UP. I COULDN’T EVEN DRAW ANYTHING I WAS SHAKING SO MUCH. IF THIS IS WHAT CAFFEINE DOES TO ME I DON’T NEED IT. THEN, AT THE END OF THE DAY, I SOMEHOW HAD THE COURAGE TO GO TALK TO (Y/N). FACE TO FACE. WHO IS THIS PERSON? I DON’T DO THAT. WAS THIS COFFEE SPIKED WITH ADRENALINE OR SOMETHING? BUT THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN! I WAS WALKING OVER TO HER, AND CHLOE SUDDENLY APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND I TRIPPED. I DON’T KNOW WHAT I TRIPPED OVER BUT THE NEXT THING I KNOW MY LIPS ARE SMASHED AGAINST CHLOE’S LIPS AND (Y/N) SAW! WAIT, NOT JUST (Y/N). EVERYONE. EVERYONE. EVERYONE. EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL SAW! IT WAS ON THE FRONT STEPS! OF COURSE EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL SAW! AND YOU KNOW WHAT I DID? I RAN. OBVIOUSLY I RAN! I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF THAT SITUATION! IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING! I DON’T EVEN LIKE CHLOE! WHAT DO I DO?
NATHANIEL
Dear Diary,
Well. Today was just peachy. I saw Nathaniel on the front steps of the school practically eating Chloe’s face, and, well, my heart shattered. I didn’t think Nathaniel was that bold. Tomorrow everyone’s going to know how the two of them are dating. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.
(y/n)
“H-hey, (y/n).” You looked up to see Nathaniel awkwardly approaching you.
You tried to brace your heart, “h-hi.”
“So, you uh, I’m sure you did, you saw the uh, thing that happened on the, uh, front steps yesterday.”
“Yeah.” You answered carefully. The boy in front of you was avoiding your gaze, and it made you wary.
“That was all, uh, a mistake. Yeah, a mistake. I don’t like Chloe. At all. It was, I, I don’t even know. One moment I was, I was, trying to talk to, to you, and then she was there, and then I tripped, and then I was kissing her.” He stammered, “not that I wanted to!” he then shouted in a panicked fashion. “It was an accident.”
“Why are you telling me?” you asked carefully. Your heart was starting to rise in anticipation, but you shook your head. You weren’t going to get your hopes up again.
“BecauseIwantedtoaskyoutogoonadatewithme.” He mumbled under his breath.
“W-what?” did he just say what you thought he said.
“I was on the front steps of the building that day becauseIwantedtoaskyoutogoonadatewithme!” he shouted.
“I…what?” you still couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.
He took a deep breath and asked the floor, “do you want to go on a date?”
Your heart soared, “that thing with Chloe, it was all just an accident?” you asked shyly.
“Yeah.” He murmured, and your heart pieced itself back together.
“H-hey, Nathaniel.”
“Hm?” he asked and looked up from the floor to you.
“I’d love to go on a date with you,” you replied happily and leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips that left the two of you blushing redder than Nathaniel’s hair.
“Ugh!” a voice shouted from the end of the hall and the two of you whipped around to see Chloe standing angrily. “I can’t believe you two still got together! Even after yesterday!”
“Way to ruin the moment.” Nathaniel muttered.
“Come on, let’s go.” You took his hand and the two of you walked away from Chloe.
To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,
She loves me! She’s not mad at me. She doesn’t think I’m weird. We’re going to go on a date together. Nothing could get me down. Cloud 9. I think that’s what it’s called. I’m on Cloud 9.
Nathaniel.
Dear Diary,
Today was fantastic. Yesterday was all just a misunderstanding. It was just Chloe being Chloe. But he likes me. He actually likes me! We’re going to go on a date together! Today is a wonderful day.
(y/n)
“Do I look good?” Nathaniel asked worriedly as he looked at Adrien and Nino. Alix was busy at a skating competition, but she sent him best of luck.
“‘Course you do!” Nino smiled.
“Maybe I should change jackets.” Nathaniel worriedly looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing his normal purple pants, a white button-up, and his normal gray jacket. “It’s too normal.”
“If you were wearing something fancier, it’d look like you were going to prom.” Nino blurted out, but Adrien elbowed him, “I mean! You look great already!”
“There’s no need to get too fancied up,” Adrien smiled, “now come on, if you don’t get going, you might be late to pick her up.”
“Oh no!” Nathaniel panicked.
“Hey, don’t panic,” Adrien told him soothingly, “look, you’ve got your phone, you’ve got your wallet, you’re good to go. You’ll make it with time to spare.”
Nathaniel took a deep breath, “thanks guys.”
“No problem. Now go!” Nino shooed Nathaniel.
116 notes · View notes
bearlytolerant · 3 years
Text
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)
Ch Rating: T
Ch WC: 2169
AO3
Chapter 7
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Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.
“Lunch?”
Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”
“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”
“What if they call while I’m away?”
“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”
Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.
“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”
“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.
“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”
“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”
A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.
He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.
Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?
He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.
“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.
“Got you covered,” Varric replies.
He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.
“Hey papae!”
“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”
“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”
“I will be there soon.”
“Okie doke.”
He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.
He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.
“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.
“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”
“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”
“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”
He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.
“What’s this?” Veda asks.
Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”
“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”
“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”
“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.
“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”
She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”
“No. Just a new friend I met.”
“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”
“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”
“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”
“I don’t always look happy?”
“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”
He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”
“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.
“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.
“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”
“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”
She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”
“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“
“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”
“Very well but if you ever—“
“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”
“Yes, so long as you check with—“
“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”
“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay. See you later, papae.”
Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.
Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.
I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉
“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.
“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”
“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.
Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.
“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”
Both of them shake their heads.
“It’s really odd.”
“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.
“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.
“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”
“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.
Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”
“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.
“Sometimes you both are mean.”
“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.
Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”
“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”
“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”
“What the fuck?”
“Good for him,” Han says.
Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”
“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”
“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.
Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”
“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.
“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”
“Another Lavellan huh?”
“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.
“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.
In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.
“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“
“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.
“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”
“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.
It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.
“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.
“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.
She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”
“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.
“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”
Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.
She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.
She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?
“Perhaps I should…”
“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.
When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.
19 notes · View notes
debbiechanclub · 4 years
Text
Best Two Out of Three, Part 26
This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭 
I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳
And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.
Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉
Best Two Out of Three
Part: 26/26
Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself
Word count: 7.8k
Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst
Catch up on previous parts here.
Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade
Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.
Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.
And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.
It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.
But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.
She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.
The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.
“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.
They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.
“Go-karts?”
She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”
She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”
“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”
As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.
“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.
“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”
He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.
Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.
But, so far, it hadn’t worked.
Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.
Hey loser. You have plans today?
She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?
She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.
A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.
That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.
Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.
She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.
Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.
“Are you shitting me?”
“There you are.”
Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”
“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”
Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”
Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.
She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”
“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”
His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”
“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”
“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”
She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.
“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”
She nodded.
“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”
A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”
She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”
He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”
Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”
He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”
She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”
Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.
“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”
She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”
* * * * * * * * * * 
To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.
But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.
“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.
“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”
“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.
There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.
“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”
She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”
But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”
Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.
“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”
She thought for a second. “Beef.”
A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”
Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”
“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”
“Mixed please.”
He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”
“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.
“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”
His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”
“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.
“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.
They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.
“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”
There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.
He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”
“Well… are you two not together?”
He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.
“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”
“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.
“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”
Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.
But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”
He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”
She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”
Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”
“You didn’t with Adam.”
He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.
“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”
She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.
“What?”
“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”
His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”
“What?”
“I swear.”
“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”
“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”
Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”
The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.
But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.
“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”
She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.
“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”
Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.
“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Anything but Mean Girls.”
* * * * * * * * * *
When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.
He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.
Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?
It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?  
He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.
A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.
I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.
This all happened way too fast.
He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.
But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.
“Matt.”
“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.
“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.
“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”
“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.
“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”
There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”
He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”
Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.
“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.
Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”
There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”
“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”
He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.
But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”
“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”
“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”
That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”
Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.
“What?”
“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”
Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”
Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”
“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”
They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.
“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”
Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”
Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”
“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”
Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”
Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.
“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”
He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”
“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Spell it.”
“Are you serious?”
Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.
She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.
“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.
She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”
“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”
Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.
He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”
He looked confused at that. “No… why?”
She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”
Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.
“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”
“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”
“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”
He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.
“Where are you headed?”
She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”
Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”
“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?
No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.
“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.
* * * * * * * * * *
In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.
Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.
Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.
Are you free? I need a favor.
Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.
Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.
Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.
Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.
Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.
The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.
“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.
“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.
“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”
It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”    
“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”
She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”
He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”
Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”
Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”
She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”
“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”
Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.
“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.
“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.
“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.
“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.
“You ready for this?” Trent asked.
She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.
“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”
Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”
He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.
Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”
Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.
Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.
Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.
“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.
* * * * * * * * * *
A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.
“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”
Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”
“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”
The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.
The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.
BOOM!
The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.  
She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.
“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.  
But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”
Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.
Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.
“Trent! Tag me in!”
She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.
The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.
Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”
Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.
But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”
That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.
“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”
For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.
“What’d you say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“Why don’t you say it again.”
“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.
“Matt!”
At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.
Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.
He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.
He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.
“Alex—”
Smack!
He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.
One.
Two.
Three.
The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.
“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.
“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “It was an accident—”
“Alex!”
Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.
Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.
“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.
But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.  
He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.
* * * * * * * * * *
Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.
She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.
“Callie!”
She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.
“Callie! What the fuck?”
That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”
If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”
Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”
Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.
“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”
Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.
She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”
She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”
She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”
“That’s the truth!”
“Was all this just a rebound to you?”
If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”
He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”
She took a step toward him. “Matt—”
“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.
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goonandfightme · 3 years
Text
Numbers Pt.1
After a particularly horrifying case involving a serial killer starving his victims, Spencer Reid of the BAU relapses into old habits as past trauma resurfaces. The team slowly catches on as Reid falls further into his eating disorder and addictions but will they be able to help him before it's too late?
Pt.1 Concentrate
Trigger Warnings - EDs, drug use and addiction, child abuse.
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Spencer Reid knew he has a problem at age 10. He had a routine, and once Spencer Reid had a routine it became part of him. He would wake up at 6 am, ensure his mother was asleep, pick his outfit for the day. His messenger bag would be packed with textbooks, notes and pens. He would brush his teeth, shower, then get dressed He went through this mental checklist, these motions were fluid, practised and precise. The clock would read 7:30 am, he would leave the house to grab the bus to go to school. High school. He was two years short of graduation, his mother had insisted on it, he was smart, he was special, he could be anything he wanted, he could have anything he wanted.
He would leave his lunch behind.
He would get picked on, laughed at, kicked, bruised all too easily, then go home. If his mother was lucid, he would have a proper meal, if not, whatever he could reach from the cupboards. He was malnourished, the corner of his lips cracked from b-vitamin deficiency, the rims of his eyes white from anaemia, his hair messy and breaking. People only knew him as his shadow of himself, no concerns were raised.
He would complete his homework, lay on his bed, his heart would palpitate, his world would spin. No one noticed, his grades hadn’t slipped, he never participated in sports. No one noticed.
His alarm sounded; it was 6 am. He started again; his lungs screamed, his heart pounded, and his headache came back, he always had a headache, but Spencer Reid had a routine, and he would stick to it. He went to check on his mother.
--Present Day--
It was six-thirty and Reid was getting ready for his day at work, removing his pyjamas while he waited for the shower to heat. The top came over his head easily, it was baggy, it was more than a couple of months old, it didn’t fit him anymore. He looked forward towards the full body mirror, tossing the clothes into the hamper, his face was thin, as it always had been, even when he was a healthy weight he’d always struggled with his figure. Brushing his hair out of his face he looked closer running his fingers over his features, saw how his eyes were more hallow, he pulled the lower lid down the reveal the ghostly white colour it had become, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced and painful to press against, his jaw slightly sharper in contrast to how he felt. His hand dipped and traced over his ribs, he could count them all, name them if he wanted, then his hand lowered to his wrist. His thumb and middle finger enclosing the joint, measuring how far he could raise it, whether it would come past his elbow, would it fit past his bicep. It stopped just after his elbow and he squeezed as if trying to rip his flesh after, from the bone, the white marks lingered across the already pale limb.
“White marks that last after applying pressure to the skin suggest poor blood circulation, common among those with anorexia nervosa.” There was no one there to hear him but when he was alone, he liked to talk aloud it helped him think through things slower, it helped keep him calm. “It also causes the exterminates to become cold and discoloured,” he looked down towards his feet. He removed his trousers, the shower warm and producing a numbing white noise as Reid continued his routine. Checking how each bone moved under his skin, thin, grey and translucent. He had so much more to lose.
“Grey skin indicates poor blood oxygenation, which can be caused by anaemia, a low level of iron within the blood that prevents red blood cells from delivering oxygen effectively. A common symptom of malnutrition.” He breathed out slowly to calm himself as he turned on his heel to enter the shower, it was much warmer than his apartment, the floor cold and unwelcoming, he was always cold anyway. He made quick work of scrubbing down his body, no longer wanting to look at it, feel it. He spent longer on his hair, it no longer sat right, it would always fly away as it became more brittle, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the longer-haired look but it suited him, made his face slimmer, so he kept it.
Reid turned the tap off and jumped out as quickly as his legs would let him, he swiped his towel off of the rack and placed it on his face, holding the weight in his hands as his head stopped swirling, then used it to finish drying himself off. He walked back into his bedroom where his clothes laid neatly. He placed on his underwear socks and trousers, a cream shirt and striped tie, a thick soft orange jumper to go with it, then blazer, then belt, he tightened and placed it through the newest punched hole. It was a nice belt he didn’t want to get rid of it. Checking that the apartment was in order and that everything had been done, everything he needed was in his bag, he picked up his keys from the dish and left after briefly sorting his hair in the hallway mirror.
It was another day at the BAU for Reid. Walking over to the staff space he started the kettle and placed his bag down, he retrieved his favourite mug and placed three teaspoons of coffee in. Once the water was boiled he filled his mug and let the thick scent waft through the air, he grabbed the sugar and poured, originally he would have counted the spoons of sugar but decided that cutting out the middle man would save time, he was slightly late as it was. “Want some coffee with that sugar?”
“Had a long night, need something to keep me functioning” Reid retorted as he turned to face Morgan who stood behind him placing his lunch in the fridge. “Nice one pretty boy, what was she like?” Morgan smiled. “Not that kind of long night,” he picked up his bag and walked towards his desk before Morgan had a chance to reply. He slouched down into his seat while taking another sip of his coffee and reached down to grab a file from the bottom of his desk drawer and after rummaging for a while he found it. A wave of nausea hit and Reid lent forward over the desk to stop his stomach from protesting, his body wasn’t used to this level of starvation. He’d lowered his intake from 700 to 500 yesterday, it was taking time to adjust.
The BAU hadn’t had a case for over two days so the team was catching up on all paperwork that needed doing, anything that had been shoved in draws to be forgotten was to be finished and filed.
He opened the file and glanced over the first page, thumbing over the papers to spread them out. Emily Moore, aged 25, died of malnutrition after a serial killer had starved her to death. Reid placed his right hand beneath his chin and ran his thumb over his mouth as he traced a finger over the outline of her body and closed his eyes. That was four months, two days and three hours ago that case started, and it was four months, two days and three hours since Reid had relapsed. He could see them still so vividly, all of them hung up like puppets, so skinny and frail. He still couldn’t bring himself to finish the file.
“Reid?” Hotchner asked, Spencer, opened his eyes to see the team filling into the meeting room as Hotch stared at him from across the room. Reid quickly snapped the file shut and followed behind everyone else, Hotchner joining the line afterwards. Spencer enclosed his hand around his wrist to help his heart stop beating as fast. It calmed him down, he didn’t even realise he had done it. Hotch was absorbed in his paperwork.
Reid sat down next to Morgan in his unassigned assigned seat as Gideon began the brief and Reid for one of the first times since he had met Gideon, didn’t listen to him.
I shouldn’t have had that much sugar, how much did I have, right, the coffee cup was about 5cm in diameter so that means the area of the cup was five multiplied by pi, then to find the volume of sugar the cup raised about 1cm.
“The victim was found face down lying in a pool of her own blood.” Gideon turned to the board displaying pictures of the woman.
The volume of sugar would be 15.7cm squared, which equates to about 25 grams of sugar which is 80 calories.
“Nothing was left at the crime scene, but her hands were bound with what appears to have been some sort of rope shown by the burn marks.”
“Could have suggested the killer was physically weak, needed to restrain her to get his way” Elle interjected. “Judging that the unsub took the rope it probably means he also brought it, premediated, definitely an organised killer,” Morgan added.
Why didn’t I just measure it out it would have made this so much easier, I’ll round it up to 100 just in case.
“Local police teams have already sectioned off the scene,” Hotch added, “alright but why call us, nothing about this case seems extraordinary, seems like a run of the mill homicidal rapist,” Elle questioned while looking to Gideon. “Well,” Gideon started.
If I can get home by 8 pm I can burn off that coffee, wait no if I run home then I can leave later but still burn it so if I have the 500, well now I can have 420 no 400, then I can-
“Right let’s go, the jet leaves in half an hour.”
With that the team all stood up abruptly, creating a whirlwind around Reid that made him snap out of his thoughts, his head and eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what was happening. He jumped out of his seat to follow everyone out but was stopped at the door.
“You alright Reid?”
Spencer spun back round to face Gideon who was looking at him, seeming to expect an answer. “Sorry, what was that?” Gideon's face became stern as his eyebrow slightly lifted along with his chin, he was not just looking at him, he was analysing. “I just wanted to know if you were alright?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine” Reid frantically looked across the room trying not to meet the other man’s gaze, “I’m just going to go grab my stuff” he stated while starting to walk backwards out of the room, pointing behind him with his thumb. “Uh yeah, see you on the plane,” he turned almost bumping into JJ “sorry JJ I uh didn’t see you sorry,” and with that, he took off to go grab his bag.
JJ turned to Gideon with a questioning look. “Keep an eye on him” was all he said before also going to grab his bag. Gideon wasn’t a man to say anything unless he was sure unless it was important, but he was worried. His intuition was screaming at him that something was wrong, but Reid would be at least three steps ahead if he didn’t want anyone to know. Damn profilers.
They had all swarmed into the jet and had taken their seats. Reid lay in the long seat reading a book, but not at his normally inhuman speed, it was slower, only just noticeably. Hotch sat next to Gideon reading all the information they had on the case thus far again, making sure nothing was missed. Gideon watched. They were sat at the other end of the plane with Reid’s back to them, the other team members preoccupied with their activities.
“Something’s wrong with Reid.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look at him.”
Hotch looked up from his papers and looked towards Reid, Gideons line of sight hadn’t wavered since he sat down. Hotch looked back from Reid to the man next to him. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s anxious, jumpy, overreactive,” Gideon still looked over to the boy and Hotch joined back, “I asked him this morning after the brief, he didn’t turn his back to me once until he was out of the room.”
“He was being defensive, wouldn’t turn his back on the perceived threat,” Hotchner added, “he knew the answer but couldn’t tell you, he looks at you as a father figure you know, he doesn't want to disappoint you”
Gideon paused, “he probably does, he doesn’t know much about his father,” he said shaking his head, they sat and observed in silence.
“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,”
“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,” Gideon repeated, “how’s his paperwork?” he finely looked away from the younger man. “Still exemplary, maybe a little less than normal but handed in on time, it hasn’t suffered any more than anyone else’s while we’ve been busy.”
Gideon nodded “somethings eating away at him, I just don’t know what.” There was a pause.
"There was one file I never got back."
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the-edge-of-great · 4 years
Text
(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ friendsgiving ♥
---------- ----------
The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening. Her heart sinks. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, especially their bandmates.
So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far is too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.
That’s why this question tumbled out so casually.
And that’s why the silence is scaring her.
Luke, finally, saves her. “We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.
“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.
“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.
Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.
As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.
“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.
Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.
“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.
“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”
“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, all the time.”
“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”
“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”
“And… Alex?”
He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.
“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”
Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she knows what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex—sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.
“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”
Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing less than the bare minimum of being parents.”
“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”
“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”
“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”
Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.
“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”
Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”
“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”
~**~**~**~
Star Wars and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.
“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”
“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”
“I know we think they’re cute, but will they think they’re cute?”
“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about anything.”
“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.
“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—
“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.
“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.
“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”
“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting hella sus.”
“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”
“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.
“Julie!”
“What?!”
Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”
Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”
Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few inches. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.
Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”
“Alex, honey, I planned it.”
Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.
“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.
Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they totally figured something was going on. She giggles.
“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past. “Ta-da.”
Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.
The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).
After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”
Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”
“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you can choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.
“I have all of the Star Wars movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.
“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.
“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”
“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.
Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”
“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.
“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.
Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, she’s my Chosen One. You two go away.”
“We were here first,” Luke whines.
“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.
Luke nods. “Good point.”
“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.
“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.
“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”
Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”
Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”
“I improvised.”
“I like it.”
Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”
Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”
“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.
Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do both!”
Julie laughs out loud.
After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows (“Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they’re ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.
“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s green. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”
They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”
“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.
Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.
“Bring it.”
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petrichoravellichor · 4 years
Text
Rebar Not Included
Written for Day 11 of the Supernatural Deserved Better Creative Challenge (prompt: hunting).
Summary: Jody and Donna help out the Winchesters by looking into an Ohio case involving masked vampires, and what do you know: not only do they manage to kill a certain side character from season 1 but they ALSO make it through without dying! Oh, and they kiss, just because they can.
(Read on Ao3)
********************
Jody was just settling down with a book for the evening when her phone rang; she smiled at the name flashing across her screen and swiped left to accept the call. “Hey, Sam.”
“Jody, hi. How are you?”
“Alone, believe it or not. Alex is working the night shift, Claire and Kaia are still on that case down in Miami, and Patience is staying over at a friend’s. Got the whole house to myself.”
Sam chuckled. “That...honestly sounds kind of amazing right about now.”
“How’s Cas? Is he feeling any better?” she asked. It had been nearly a week since Sam and Dean had returned from the Empty with one bedraggled former angel in tow. Jody hadn’t pressed too hard for details at the time—Sam had sounded pretty exhausted when he’d called to tell her they’d made it back safely—but from what she’d gathered, Cas was human now, and his time in the Empty had left him very much in need of recuperation.
On the other end of the line, Sam groaned. “Uh...yeah, you could say that.” A beat, then: “He and Dean haven’t come out of Dean’s room since yesterday afternoon.”
Jody had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Huh. Well, how do you like that: they finally figured it out.”
Sam sighed. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong; I’m really happy for them. I just wish the Men of Letters had invested in sound-proof walls. But anyway,” he said, changing tracks, “that’s not what I called you about.”
“What’s up?”
“So get this: last night, a family of four in Akron, Ohio, got attacked home-invasion style. Whatever it was killed the dad and drained his blood.”
Jody frowned. “Vampires?”
“I think so, but there’s more. I called and spoke with the police sergeant, and according to her, the attackers left the mom alive but ripped out her tongue, and they also took the two kids.”
Jody’s blood ran cold; she glanced at the photo of Alex, beaming and holding up her nursing degree, over on the mantle. “They’re taking blood slaves.”
“Yeah, looks like it.” Sam paused, then: “The thing is, I don’t think this the first time they’ve done it. Back in ’86, our dad was looking into a string of kidnappings along Route 77, and it was the same thing: whatever it was took the kids and ripped the tongues out of any adult it didn’t drain. By the time Dad started digging around, though, the attacks stopped. Until now, anyway. Here, just a sec, I’m gonna text you something...”
A moment later, Jody’s phone chimed. She put Sam on speaker and tapped to open the message; it was a drawing of what resembled the front part of a skull. “What am I looking at?”
“The mom drew that, the one from the most recent attack; apparently, the perpetrators wore masks. Hang on, I’m sending you another picture. This one’s from our dad’s journal, back when he was working the case in the 80s.”
The second picture loaded, and Jody drew in a sharp breath: the resemblance between the two drawings was unmistakable. “It’s the same nest.”
“That’s what I’m guessing. They seem to always target the same type of home: outside town, isolated, kids between the ages of five and ten. If the pattern from last time holds, they’ll hit Canton next, then East Sparta.”
Jody swallowed. “You want me to look into it.”
“If you’re able to, yeah, that would be great. We’d go ourselves, but what with Cas still recovering and him and Dean...um…” Sam cleared his throat, then continued more smoothly, “I can call someone else if now’s not a good time.”
Jody chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. This felt personal. “No,” she replied, pushing herself off the couch and heading to pack a bag, “I’ll take care of it. Let me grab a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll head out.”
“Great, thank you. I’ll dig around online and text you a shortlist of properties around Canton that seem like likely targets.”
“Sounds good; thanks, Sam. Take care.” She smirked, adding, “And tell Dean and Cas I said hello. Whenever you see them, that is.”
Sam snorted. “Will do. Be safe, okay?”
“Always.” She ended the call, then typed out a quick message to Donna: Hey babe. Feel like teaming up to take down some vamps?
********************
The following night, she and Donna were crouched in the shadows near an abandoned barn in Ohio. Sam’s intel about where the nest would hit next had proven accurate, and by the time a black van carrying two masked vampires had pulled up in front of a rural home outside Canton, Jody and Donna were waiting. They dispatched both vampires easily, sparing one just long enough to learn the location of the group’s nest; now, the only thing left to do was clear out the remaining vamps and free the children who’d been taken captive.
“Okie dokie,” Donna whispered, “our toothy friend back there said they keep the kiddos in a room off to one side. We go in through the side door, then you take right, I take left?”
Jody nodded. “Works for me. Come on,” she said, drawing her machete, “let’s go save some kids.”
They crept over to the barn and entered.
At first glance, the place seemed deserted. They fanned out along the walls, searching carefully for any sign of life, but other than the occasional spiderweb, there was nothing. Then, as Jody neared the back of the barn, she heard it: a quiet sniffling sound coming from behind a latched door. She raised her hand and signaled to Donna, who nodded and hurried over; then, while Donna watched her back, Jody opened the door and saw two small, scared-looking little boys peering back at her. The younger one couldn’t have been much older than her own son, Owen, had been when he’d died, and the realization made Jody’s stomach clench.
She lowered her machete and crouched down to the boys’ level. “Hey,” she whispered soothingly, “hey, it’s okay. You can come out; you're safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”
No sooner had she ushered the two boys to her side, however, than she heard Donna’s warning: “Heads up, Jodes; we got company!”
Five figures were approaching slowly from the front of the barn, all armed with blades. Four of them, the two on either side of the central figure, wore masks similar to the drawings Jody had seen in Sam’s text messages. The fifth, however, was a maskless female vampire dressed in dark leather. As the group drew closer, she looked from Jody to Donna and back again with a scowl.
“You’re not the Winchesters,” she said, as though someone were playing a trick on her.
Donna flashed a grim smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Boys,” Jody said, low and urgent over her shoulder, “run.” She heard their frantic footfalls, followed by the slam of the side door. Good, she thought, hefting her machete as the vampires charged: she didn’t want them to see what happened next.
The first vampire lost its head the second it stepped in their space. Jody spun and slashed, Donna at her back, the clash of blades shattering the still air of the night. It was brutal work, bloody work, and Jody took no pleasure in it. Her only objective was to protect: the boys they’d freed, Donna, Sam and Dean. She had no idea what the vampires wanted with the Winchesters, and she didn’t care: whatever it was, she’d make sure they didn’t get it.
Jody had just relieved a second vampire of its head when something flashed on the edge of her vision; she pivoted, raising her weapon just in time. The female vampire’s blade crashed into her machete and sent a shockwave of pain up her arm, nearly causing her to cry out. There was no time for that, though: the vampire swung at her again and again, driving her back from the rest of the fight before rushing forward, barreling into Jody with the force of a tank.
Jody fell hard to the floor. Her machete flew from her hand, and she could only watch as a triumphant smile split her opponent’s face. The vampire raised her blade to deliver a final blow…and then her head flew off in a spray of red. Her body crumpled to the ground, revealing Donna, blood splattered and furious, machete still hovering at the end of its arc.
“Not my girlfriend, you bitch,” she panted, glowering down at the corpse as though sight alone could set it ablaze; then her gaze shifted to Jody, and all the rage seemed to drain out of her at once. “You okay, Jodes?”
Jody exhaled, nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She peered past Donna, counting the bodies on the ground and sighing in relief when the total came to five. Donna reached out a hand, and Jody took it, allowing Donna to pull her up and into an embrace. They kissed then, slow, reverent, and it was several moments before Jody could bring herself to pull away.
“Come on,” she said quietly, brushing back a strand of Donna’s hair. “We should go find those boys, make sure they get home safely.”
Donna nodded, and they drew apart, then left the barn without looking back.
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neutral-emerald · 4 years
Text
SILVER THE COSMIC TIME-JANITOR (or: dude, what's with all the alternate futures)
silver the hedgehog has a very simple backstory. he's a kindhearted, sorta-naive but altogether very driven psychic hedgehog here to save the world by time-traveling to the past (also known as present-day) to prevent the apocalyptic future he was born into from coming to pass!
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[ID: A screenshot of Silver from Sonic 06. He’s glowing with cyan energy as he flies over a dark, post-apocalyptic city.]
...wait, if he's time traveling 200 years into the past to completely change the shape of the timeline, how do the stars manage to align such that he manages to be born at the exact same point in the new timeline with the exact same genetics? how are his parents born? does silver have parents?? and how does he do this no less than THREE SEPARATE TIMES??!
hey everyone, i'm tumblr user neutral-emerald here to make good on the idea i vaguely gestured at yesterday and point out silver's wildly inconsistent backstory(s) and then explain to you how this isn't just sega playing hopscotch with the concept of time travel, but actually TOTALLY EXPLAINABLE if you don't mind a whole lot of conjecture and "fuck dude i just think it'd be cool."
LET'S GO.
before i get started, a few things to establish.
first, this is about… half serious, tops. it’s less of a theory and more of an observation of something that’s weird and then throwing some possible explanations at it because i am a massive sucker for time-based nonsense. if you wanna take my observations and build your own conclusions, go for it. i’m not your boss.
second, i'm basing my conclusions off of both the games and the idw comics. the conclusions i draw are applicable to either continuity, but the logic does rest a decent amount on the comics, so just a heads-up in case you were expecting pure game canon from this.
and third, i'm working off like half a brain and very intermittent checks of the wiki and cutscene compilations, so there's probably many things i'm missing! if you notice something i said was wildly off-base, go ahead and correct me in the replies and i'll either edit the post or explain to you just how that detail doesn't actually matter, depending on whether it. y'know. matters.
with that out of the way, let's get into the first topic of discussion!
part 1: the future is inconsistent, y'all
now, i'm not sure if you've heard, but in the year 2006 sonic team released this little indie game creatively entitled Sonic the Hedgehog. it was a smash hit, won countless awards, and for some reason went down in history as a messy, incomplete bugfest. but that's not what matters. what matters is that it introduced Silver the Hedgehog.
silver hails from 200 years in the future. the world is a bleak, fiery place, and has been since the monster iblis was unleashed after princess elise's death. silver was born into this world, which we know since it's literally the first thing he says in his story.
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[ID: A cropped line from Silver's story in Sonic 06. "This world was devastated before I was born."]
i'm not going to drag you through a beat-by-beat summary of the entire plot of sonic 06, you should know it already. silver meets mephiles, gets lied to about who caused the apocalypse, mephiles yeets him and blaze into the past, he tries to murder Sonic the Hedgehog™, and so on. eventually he helps kill god, and then sonic and elise travel further back in time to kill god even deader so that none of the game ever happened, and the bad future into which silver was born never happened, thus thoroughly scrubbing silver's existence from the timeline!
...until.
sonic rivals.
i'm not going to speak much on sonic rivals, mostly because i'm not super familiar with it. but what matters is that silver is back! he's still from the future, he's still here to change the past, and most importantly he wasn't deleted from existence by the destruction of solaris, unlike everything else from sonic 06 including everyone's memories of it. and obviously, whatever state his future is in, it's not the same as it was in sonic 06.
now, i don't have a single clue what is going on in rivals 2, so do inform me if there's some big information i'm missing from that one. all i know is he's fixing yet another possible apocalyptic future, like always. correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t have the patience to trawl through it myself.
then we've got sonic colors, in which silver is again from the future. notably, he’s definitely not from an apocalypse!
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[ID: Some screenshots from the DS version of Sonic Colors, again cropped to just the text. Tails and Silver are talking to each other.
Tails: What's the future you came from like, Silver? Silver: A lot brighter than this. Silver: The sky is blue, and everybody's got a smile.]
sonic generations doesn't add much. again, correct me if i'm wrong, but i don't think we learn anything about what kind of future silver is from, and he's definitely not here to fix it this time. that's sonic's job! he's just hanging out like everyone else.
now, up until this point the future has been reasonably consistent, setting aside my somewhat abstract understanding of the rivals games. there's nothing to say that silver's not coming back in time from the same point in a single timeline, which is the one and only version of the future ever since the destruction of sonic 06.
UNTIL.
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[ID: Two panels from the comic Sonic Forces: Stress Test. In the first panel, Silver looks worried as he lands in front of Knuckles, who looks skeptical.
Silver: We've got big trouble! Eggman— Knuckles: How can you be here? I thought you returned to the future?
In the second panel, Knuckles looks away with a self-assured grin, while Silver looks more panicked.
Knuckles: Oh wait— I must be dreaming! Silver: What? No! I've come back with a dire warning from the future!]
i have a lot of issues with sonic forces, especially with how its story is written. something i do NOT take issue with is the supplemental comics, mainly because they are WONDERFUL evidence for my crackpot time travel theory.
like i said, up until this point we don't really know whether silver has been experiencing separate instances of the future, or simply traveling back in time to prevent an also-time-traveling eggman nega from messing things up in the past. but here, we get some very juicy information:
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[ID: Knuckles and Silver again. Knuckles has his arms crossed and is looking at Silver, who has a nervous look on his face as he slams a fist on the palm of his other hand.
Knuckles: Come again? Silver: Something happens that brings the world to ruin! But the historical records are sparse or make no sense. I came back to hopefully head off whatever's about to happen and save the future.]
silver travels back in time to prevent a terrible apocalypse. this is not the beautiful future silver came from in sonic colors— but this is the same silver. everyone recognizes him. he recognizes everyone. and yet, the future he came from is different.
part 2: silver is a walking paradox
allow me to remind you of what i pointed out when i was talking about sonic 06. silver was born into the iblis-apocalypse. considering no elaborate timeline nonsense happened to him before the events of the game (by his reckoning) i think we can safely assume he was born like a regular person with parents.
in the first post-06 timeline, silver was probably also born. let's be charitable, acknowledge that sonic team doesn't overthink the butterfly effect like i do, and say that silver was born to the same parents, because the universe likes to keep things nice and simple and contrive itself to make this particular character exist in this time period.
so, it's entirely fair that silver comes to exist in a post-06 timeline at the equivalent point in time, aka 200 years in the future. it's also fair that he travels back in time to prevent some kind of apocalypse, because that's his narrative role! it's what he does. when it's time for him to exist in the story, that's what he's there to do.
what isn't fair is the fact that it keeps happening.
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[ID: A panel from the IDW comics. Sonic is stretching his legs while looking faintly exasperated at Silver, who is nervously holding his arm.
Silver: Er… No. I came back because defeating Eggman didn't save the future. Sonic: Couldn't even play along. Had to bring the mood down. Sonic: *sigh* Okay, what happened this time?]
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[ID: The following panel, cropped to just Silver's text bubbles narrating over a starry sky.
Silver: When I left, my time had been conquered by the Eggman Empire. Everyone lived in fear, choking on polluted air. Silver: When I went back, the Eggman Empire was gone— but so was everyone else. Silver: There was nothing left. No people, no animals, no machinery. Only water and sparse, metallic plant life.]
allow me to summarize my understanding of all this: silver is from the future. normally, the future is good. sometimes it isn't. when it isn't good, he goes back in time and fixes things, then returns to the future to check if that fixed things.
the least conjecture-y interpretation i can come up with is that sometimes silver will go into the past, then go back to the future but end up in a Bad Timeline and thus go into the past again to fix things. there's no weird warping directly between bad timelines, he only gets there by way of the past.
but that's boring, so here's my PREFERRED interpretation.
silver hails from a good future, but sometimes it just changes. he's unstuck from time— if something weird happens in the past, he's the only one to know that the passage of fate was changed, because he went to bed in one timeline and woke up somewhere categorically worse, and the only way he can fix it is by figuring out just what caused this and going back in time to fix it.
or, to say it in a meme:
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[ID: A picture of someone lying in a hospital bed with a nurse standing next to them, edited so that Silver is in the bed.
nurse: sir… you've been asleep for 2 hours silver: oh boy i can't wait to wake up in the same timeline i went to sleep in]
part 3: how did this happen?
it's one thing to point out that silver doesn't experience time like a normal hedgehog, and another thing to explain how and why this happens.
fyi, this is the part where i go wildly off the rails and start saying whatever i want. there's a ton of explanations one could come up with, most probably stemming back to sonic 06. i'm just going to go with my own, and probably not come up with a whole lot of concrete evidence because i'm just spitballing. this is me having a fun time. going "heeheehoohoo time traveling hedgehog go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"
so. something i haven't touched upon is that in all games after sonic 06, silver can time travel. we never see him do it, it's never explained how he does it. all we know is that he's doing it under his own power.
which is kinda odd, don't you think? should he be able to do that?
in sonic 06, we see three mechanisms for time travel. first is the chaos emeralds. if two people perform Chaos Control with a chaos emerald apiece, they open up a swirling rift in the air which can send them to different points in time and space. silver can't be doing that, for obvious reasons— he's only one hedgehog, and he's not exactly running around with a chaos emerald at all times. that can't be how he does it.
second is a time machine eggman built. that obviously can't be it; the machine doesn't exist at all after the timeline gets wiped, and again, silver is doing this on his own. he's actively antagonistic towards eggman, even. absolutely not this one.
third and finally is mephiles, who can make big purple orbs to take himself and passengers to different points in time. this obviously can't be it either, for similar reasons to number 2, right? after all, mephiles is one half of solaris, who was destroyed before he could be split off. he doesn't exist to be silver's time-traveling uber driver.
...right?
well, obviously. i'm not going to try and tell you that mephiles is secretly alive and shepherding silver back and forth between timelines for no reason. that's ridiculous. no, i'm going to try and tell you that silver is mephiles.
or rather, he's solaris. or RATHER, he's the new solaris, sorta-ascended to the role of Time God after the old one got blown out like a birthday candle.
like i said, i'm going wildly off the rails and as such don't have any concrete evidence to explain why it's this instead of something else, but hear me out. after elise blew out the flame of hope, the universe was left in an interesting situation. someone needs to be in charge of the flow of time, but the previous time-god was just unceremoniously destroyed. but all the power and energy of a time-god has to go somewhere, in some form, in some time.
with nothing else to go off of, the role of time-god starts flipping through every notable being it had interacted with. they're all solidly accounted for in the timeline, except for one. silver the hedgehog was born into a timeline that cannot exist. silver the hedgehog does not, and cannot exist. silver the hedgehog interacted quite a bit with both sides of solaris— he spent a substantial amount of time fighting back iblis, and associated with mephiles, even being one of the few people to directly experience his time travel abilities. silver the hedgehog tried and failed to absorb iblis into himself.
here's my theory: after sonic 06, the universe reasserted itself such that silver was the new Solaris. silver is not consciously aware that this is what he is, but he knows that he can time travel. sometimes the timeline will rearrange itself around silver. he is unaffected by this because he is a higher being unaffected by such petty trifles as "an origin" or "paradoxes".
silver the hedgehog probably doesn't have parents. he sprang into existence one day and everyone just kind of went with it, himself included.
oh also something i thought was neat but couldn't think of where to put:
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[ID: More cropped dialogue, this time from Team Sonic Racing.
Silver: I'm fine. It's just, something bad is gonna happen. I can't explain it. I just feel it. Blaze: Have your travels through time given you precognition? Silver: I don't know. Maybe they have. Or maybe I'm just thinking too much.]
silver might be becoming psychic in a future-vision kinda way. that, or he’s riddled with anxiety. possibly both.
TL;DR
silver hails from no less than three separate timelines, his existence is a tangled web of who-knows-how-many grandfather paradoxes, and i choose to believe that he's god.
if anyone who cares more about evidence wants to gather up like, little one-off clues that support or conflict with my conclusions, go right ahead. or just throw your own arbitrary headcanons for what's going on with this at me. or incorporate these ideas into an au or something! i just want more people thinking about what the Fuck is up with silver post-06, because by god there is a WHOLE lot of potential packed in there
anyway thanks for reading make sure to like comment and subscribe—
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winryofresembool · 4 years
Text
Caleo fic: It’s all about the name
Chapters 3-4(/5)
Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface. (Coffee shop AU!)
a/n: More updates! Only one more to go after these two chapters that I'm posting today. I would have loved to make this au even longer but time is a b*tch and I'm really itching to continue working on twlitf already.
Hope you enjoy and please do leave me comments because even if I have almost finished this fic, I definitely want to know what you guys think!
Words: 3,6k+
Genre: fluff, humor
Warnings: none
previous chapters / AO3 
...
The next day, the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop just like he had promised. He didn’t have to ask for Calypso because she spotted him from afar, being rather easy to recognize. They didn’t have a lot of customers wearing an army jacket over an orange shirt, tools hanging from the pockets, and the bottom half being the work coveralls. At least he had left his backpack home this time, Calypso sighed with relief. She couldn’t deny, though, that in a weird way that outfit suited him. As she saw him more closely, she noticed he seemed pretty cheerful, which was probably a good sign. Or then he was just preparing to annoy her some more and was already looking forward to that. Calypso supposed she’d find out soon enough.
Either way, she stepped closer to the counter so the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ could see her better.
“So you did come,” she greeted him and he gave her that annoying grin of his that seemed to come so naturally.
“Why, of course,” he responded. “Couldn’t possibly have missed the opportunity to see the Sunshine again.”
“Are you flirting with me? Because I swear, if you are, it’s not going to work,” Calypso told him bluntly, still having her latest relationship too fresh in her mind.
“That’s crazy talk,” the guy responded, putting his hand over his chest. “How would I even dare to flirt with you? You’re way out of my league.”
“Out of your league? Uh, I don’t know about that,” Calypso mumbled, more to herself than to him. The broken relationships had left a mark on her self esteem and she didn’t consider herself as someone to be looked up to.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” the guy said, looking confused.
“Um, nothing,” Calypso tried to brush it off. “It was not relevant. But enough with that; what are you going to order? Remember, it’s on the house. Do you want the double espresso you ordered yesterday or something else?”
“I’d rather have something else,” the guy said, his gaze going back and forth between Calypso and the menu. “Truth to be told, I’m not big on coffee. I’ve noticed it makes me even more hyper than I already am. ADHD and all that good stuff, you know. Yesterday was a special occasion because I had to work overtime.”
“Alright, what will that something else be then?” Calypso asked, feeling that a lot of things about this guy already made more sense.
“Anything with no caffeine would be good. What would you rec? You’re the expert on your menu, after all,” he noted.
“Do you like sweet things?” Calypso asked.
“Sweet is fine, yeah,” the guy agreed. 
“Then how about hot chocolate? We’re pretty generous with the whipped cream we add on it,” Calypso promised. “And we can even add marshmallows if you like those.”
“I think just the cream will be fine, don’t wanna be in a complete sugar coma when I need to go back to work,” the guy noted. “To go, by the way. I can’t stay long.”
“Fine, one hot chocolate without marshmallows coming then. Will you finally tell me your name?” Calypso asked.
“Super-sized McShizzle,” the guy replied without missing a beat.
“Just when I thought that you might be an OK guy after all…” Calypso said but the tone of her voice told she wasn’t being serious.
“What’s life without some mystery, Sunshine?” He smiled at her and Calypso wondered briefly what the hell this conversation was about really.
“Yeah, what indeed?” she responded. Then she realized that the silly conversation had been going on long enough for a small queue form behind the guy. “Well, Johnny.” His mouth twitched when she said the new made up name. “Your hot chocolate will be waiting for you at the other counter in a minute. And I hope you won’t scare me so much this time that I’ll drop the drink.”
“Will try to not do that.”
The Super-sized McShizzle or Bad Boy Supreme moved to the other counter, and as Calypso was shaking the canned whipped cream, she was still playing the conversation in her head. For an outsider it probably seemed like they were being rude to each other. But Calypso thought she had learned to read this stranger a bit better already and guessed he actually enjoyed their bickering - and she had to admit that some part of her enjoyed them as well. Drawing a small heart after the made up name Johnny, she finally approached him at the counter and managed to deliver the hot chocolate without messing anything up. ‘Johnny’ took it gratefully but he gave her a funny look when he read his name on the cup.
“Aw, you even drew a heart there!” He noted. “I am starting to think you have started warming up to me.”
“No way. You? Why would I do that?” Calypso raised her eyebrow questioningly, but it probably wasn’t very effective thanks to her red cheeks.
“Because all the ladies love…” he checked his name from the cup again. “Johnny?”
“You should learn to know when to stop,” Calypso warned, rolling her eyes, but her mouth betrayed her.
“Oh c’mon, your mouth just twitched. I saw it,” the guy said. Then he took a swig from his cup and hummed approvingly. “Yup. This is the stuff. Not bad, Sunshine, I would definitely drink this again.”
“I’m glad you like it, especially since it’s supposed to be my apology to you.”
“In that case, apology accepted.” ‘Johnny’ wiped his mouth and checked the clock on the wall. “Well, I won’t bother you more this time because Jo is expecting me to be back at the garage any minute now. I was surprised she allowed me to come here in the first place but she seemed to think it’s good for me to meet new people. Apparently I spend too much time at work. But oh well, if I want to buy a car I need to save a lot of money…”
“That’s why you’re working overtime?” Calypso asked curiously.
“Yeah… I’ve been moving from place to place almost my whole life so at least owning a car would make it easier… Unless I find some reason to stay somewhere.” He shrugged, looking more serious than he had the whole time he’d been there. “I don’t know. But yeah, I should get going now. Maybe I’ll see around some time, though.” His smile returned. “This place is definitely better than I first thought.”
“Yeah, maybe I will see you around,” Calypso said, feeling a bit flustered again. It seemed that there was a lot more to this stranger’s story than she had first imagined. The small glimpses of the reality behind his jokes gave her a picture of a restless, unsure young man who was still looking for his place in the world. That piqued her interest and made her wish she really would see him again.
The mystery guy started visiting the coffee shop regularly during his breaks. After a couple of weeks Calypso already knew that his boss was called Jo and she was married to a woman called Emmie who handled the flower shop side of the business and they had an adoptive daughter Georgina. Even though the mystery guy hadn’t stayed in town for more than a couple of months so far, he seemed to have formed a strong bond with these people and especially adored the little Georgie whom he treated almost like a sister. Calypso also knew that the guy’s best friends were called Jason and Piper but unfortunately they were currently studying in another town so he couldn’t see them that often. He also had a pet lizard called Festus who apparently liked to nibble pretty much everyone except his fingers. Despite knowing all of that, there was still something Calypso didn’t know about him.
“Let’s play the game: guess my name,” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ suggested one time when he was ordering a soda.  “What do you think?”
Calypso thought about it for a moment. “Alright. Mike? Chris? Alex? Peter? Luke?”
“No, no, no, no and no,” he answered without hesitating, his mouth curled up with amusement.
“Ed? Sebastian? Jake? Thomas? Leon?” Calypso kept throwing in random names that came to her mind.
“Still no to all,” the mystery guy shook his head. “Although those were not half bad guesses. I wouldn’t mind being called Ed. A character in one of my favorite animes is called that and he’s quite a badass.”
“You watch anime?” Calypso asked curiously. “I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”
“Well, I’m full of surprises.” He smirked before turning more serious. “Um, truth to be told, Georgina keeps ranting about her favorite animes when she’s hanging out at the garage with me and one time I just decided to binge watch some of them to be able to keep up with her. Turns out some of them are actually quite solid. Like this Fullmetal Alchemist. Ahem, but that probably isn’t interesting to you so I’ll stop now.”
“No, don’t worry about it!” Calypso reassured him. “I like hearing about your interests. I am not that familiar with anime but maybe some time you can recommend something to me to watch when I have more free time.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The guy smiled before turning a bit hesitant. “Um, I know you’re probably busy and stuff but I have a free chair at my table if you happen to be in need of a break. Just sayin’, but it’s OK if you can’t.”
Calypso was surprised that he asked so bluntly. The truth was that a bit before his appearance she had already considered taking a break so the timing was good enough and she decided to accept his offer. It was a quiet moment at the coffee shop so her coworkers were fine with it as well.
“You know now that I watch anime but what about your interests?” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ asked once they had settled down at an empty table. “What do you do outside this coffee shop?”
“You really want to know?” Calypso questioned.
“Of course I do!” he said immediately. “I’ve revealed quite a bit about myself so it’s your turn now.”
Calypso felt a bit hesitant about talking about personal stuff, possibly afraid her mystery customer would judge her. “I, um… I have a mini garden on my balcony… I grow some edible plants there. I also enjoy reading because it's a good distraction from some unwanted thoughts.”
“I can relate to that,” the guy confessed but didn’t elaborate. Calypso wondered briefly what he may have wanted distraction from.
“Yeah…” she said instead of asking more because she doubted he would have liked that. “When I was a kid, I used to do a lot of music related things, like sing, play the piano and stuff like that but I stopped at some point because my father seemed to think it’s a waste of time. So, yeah. I was pretty upset about that. Who knows, maybe when I have more money I’ll be able to take more classes again… Lately I’ve been trying to express myself by painting, though, because watercolors are luckily cheap and I really needed something to do after…” She stopped when she realized she was about to reveal too much.
“After what?” the guy wanted to know.
“I don’t even know your name so I have no idea why I’m telling you this… but I guess it can’t hurt. I can trust you, right?”
“Of course!” her chat mate assured.
Calypso sighed before continuing. “I recently broke up with someone with whom I had been in quite a long relationship. Yeah, looking back to it, maybe it was for the best because clearly he wasn’t as invested as I was, but it still hurt to hear that he wanted to break up with me because there was someone else in his life. So, that’s why I’ve needed more distractions lately.” When she saw his serious expression, she rushed to add: “Don’t worry about me, though, I’m fine. I’ve already accepted that this is how it is. Trust me, it’s better that way. But it explains why I was so grumpy on that day we met.”
“Oh, OK. Sorry about that guy. I think he made a big ass mistake there but unfortunately some of us can be kinda blind… Hey, what are you staring at?” he asked when he noticed her watching him weirdly. In reality, Calypso had felt a small, unexpected tug at her heart because of his niceness but she tried to cover it by shaking her head.
“Nothing. Sorry. I was just thinking about something. But I should get back to work, the coffee isn’t going to serve itself.”
“I guess it isn’t. Well, talk to you later,” the guy said but from the corner of her eye Calypso could see that he was probably wondering what had just happened there.
Chapter 4
Time passed, but some things didn’t change:
“So… when will you finally reveal your name to me? We’ve known each other for several weeks now and you’re still being so mysterious,” Calypso noted one day when the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop again. Like earlier, she had asked her coworkers if she could have her break so she could talk with him and they had accepted her request but given each other funny glances behind Calypso’s back, as if saying ‘we know what you are doing here’.
“I will do that when you finally call me Bad Boy Supreme instead of Johnny or Ben or David or whatever fake name you come up with each time.” He just smirked at her and Calypso 100% expected him to keep his word.
“No. That’s the one thing I cannot do, you weirdo,” she said stubbornly.
“Alright, then no can do,” he teased.
Calypso did continue asking him about other things, though, and got some answers.
“Why did you want to become a mechanic? Is it just because cars are cool or did you have some deeper reason for that?”
“Actually, my dream is to become a mechanical engineer so I get better tools to invent - and fix - all sorts of things, not just cars, but at the moment I don’t have enough money to go to college. So, I’m working to save up for that too, not just for the car. I know, sounds like a mission impossible. I will have to work about ten thousand years to save that much. I’ve just… always enjoyed building and fixing things, ever since I watched my mum do that when I was a kid… It’s in my blood.”
“Oh… then your mum must be proud that you want to follow her footsteps!” Calypso said gently, but the guy’s expression darkened.
“Yeah… maybe she would be… if she was still alive.”
“Oh no!” Calypso covered her mouth with her hands when she realized her mistake. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”
“It’s OK,” he sighed. “I’m starting to get used to it.”
There was a moment of silence before Calypso asked: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… when did it happen?”
The guy looked at her darkly. “I was 8 then… So over 10 years ago. Not exactly breaking news anymore. Been going from home to home since then until I got old enough to live on my own; my dear dad didn’t care about me enough to keep me.”
“Wow… I’m sorry… You just give me such a happy and outgoing picture of yourself that I couldn’t imagine… ugh, just ignore me, please. I need to stop rambling now,” Calypso said with embarrassment, blushing slightly.
The guy surprised both Calypso and himself by what he did next: he reached for her hand to reassure her.
“Hey, relax. I only told that to you because you seem like someone I can trust. Not a lot of those people in my life. But yeah, there’s no need to be embarrassed; you couldn’t have known.”
“Oh… I guess I should be honored then. Since you were honest with me, I’m gonna be too: I didn’t exactly have the best of childhoods either. My parents fought a lot before breaking up and my dad… he could be scary when he wanted to. He had to get things done his way and if he didn’t like something… he’d let us know, loudly. I guess some of my temper issues may stem from there.”
“Still thinking about that time when you yelled at me?” the guy asked. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not afraid of you.”
“That’s good to hear,” Calypso laughed nervously, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, when my parents got divorced, my father insisted I live with him instead of mum and that did not end up going well. His idea of good parenting was buying me expensive things I didn’t care about, while I could tell that in reality he couldn’t care less if I was there or not. He just wanted to humiliate my mother. I ended up moving out as early as possible, but that’s a whole other story…”
“And that’s why you’re working here now?” The Bad Boy Supreme wanted to know. “Because you desperately needed money? I mean, no offense, but I get a vibe from you that you don’t actually enjoy working here.”
Calypso glanced at her surroundings, making sure none of her coworkers and especially not the manager could hear her answer. Then she sighed. “Yeah. You’re not wrong. I did have some dreams when I was younger but… it’s like you said, it would take me about ten thousand years to be able to afford studying. The rent here isn’t free and I don’t even want to think about the college tuitions. Obviously my dad could afford them easily but I’m not going to stoop so low that I would ask him. I am not going to owe anyone, especially not him.”
The ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ gave her an approving half smile. “I see we have something in common, after all. We both have dreams that seem to be hard to achieve. And I definitely wouldn’t want to owe to my no good old man either. And families… Those can be bitches. But not something bad if not something good; thanks to my round around the country I feel like I may have finally found a place where I could maybe picture myself staying more than just a few months. The coffee here isn’t half bad and the people are decent too.” He winked at her, and she knew his words were actually quite a big compliment from him. Despite that, she pretended to be annoyed by his comment, putting her hands on her waist. 
“Not half bad? I don’t even remember you ordering coffee since that little incident – and you didn’t get your coffee back then - so how can you have an opinion on it?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t get my coffee so that’s why it’s only ‘not half bad’ and not the ‘best coffee I’ve ever had’” he smiled at her smugly. “However, the hot chocolate was definitely worth getting yelled at.”
Calypso hated how contagious his smile was but she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”
They were silent for a moment before the guy started: “Hey, listen… would you like to…”
His question was interrupted, though, because a customer nearby started causing ruckus, claiming the tea water was too cold (even though Calypso knew her coworkers always made sure it was hot enough) and the piece of cake was dry (even though someone had cut fresh pieces like half an hour ago) and she wanted her money back. Reyna was serving her and trying to politely say that she was sorry the customer felt that way and that they’d make sure to do better the next time, but the customer wouldn’t listen. Calypso could tell Reyna’s patience was running thin so she decided to finish her break then and there and go to help, but she had only managed to stand up from her chair when she noticed that she wasn’t the only one wanting to defend the honor of their coffee shop.
“Hey, you,” ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ said loudly, addressing the woman who had complained. “Don’t like, don’t buy. It’s as simple as that. There are other places where you can get your low fat cake with extra cream on the top that will surely match your interests better.”
The woman just glared at him, going slightly red from her face, before dramatically turning away and leaving the coffee house. Calypso sighed of relief, thankful that nothing worse happened.
“That wasn’t really necessary, you know,” she tried to scold her companion but the attempt was half hearted. “I’m sure Reyna would have been able to handle it.”
“Oh, yeah, I don’t have a doubt about that,” he said. “But sometimes it’s fun to let those privileged douches hear it. You guys are just too polite. Well, most of the time. I guess some customers do have a way to crawl under your skin but that requires special talent.” He grinned at her in a way that may have tried to be flirty but failing.
“Oh, yeah, a special talent indeed,” Calypso confirmed, throwing her long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the epitome of patience, as we know. Well, I should get back to work now; my coworkers are probably waiting for me already.” She looked at Reyna apologetically but she didn’t seem to mind one bit. “It was nice talking to you, though, Raymond.”
“That’s the best you can come up with? C’mon, you can do better than that,” ‘Raymond’ protested but waved her a goodbye with a big smile on his face. Calypso gave him a shy smile back.
18 notes · View notes
leejeongz · 4 years
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jealous cravity
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📌omg thank u for the compliment 😭 i hope u like this! also i’m sorry for any repeats of gifs from other reactions!📌
serim:
while waiting for serim to finish his game, you decided to watch some videos on youtube to kill time. the first video on your suggested was an allen fancam and being the supportive cravity fan that you are, you put it on. serim could just hear the song and he smiled secretly while facing his PC, he was so happy you liked their music. he stopped his game early just to come and cuddle you for being so cute since you were watching their stuff when he realised what you were actually watching. he pulled back from the hug he was about to give you and sat for a second, contemplating his next move. he wasn’t sure if being jealous was justified right now, but he was. he pouted visibly, rolling over to not face you on his bed and so you asked him what was wrong.
“that’s an allen fancam” he stared as if you didn’t know. “but i’m your boyfriend, you should only focus on me”. he was acting so childish you didn’t even know if he meant it, and to be honest neither did he.
you stopped the video and went to your history, where lots of serim fancams sat. you flung your arm around his chest and showed him your phone with all the videos of him on it, laughing into his ear. “see, idiot, i do watch your stuff” you kissed his cheek “and anyway, why would i watch you when you’re sat right in front of me?”
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allen:
“last night, i had a really weird dream” you said while sitting opposite your boyfriend allen. he looked up from his breakfast and indicated for you to tell him what happened.
“well there were these weird robots around and it was terrifying” your hands were flying around everywhere as you got deeper into the story. “but luckily, jungmo was there and he saved me” you smiled and finally put a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, suggesting that you had finished.
“that’s cool,” allen said, no emotion in his voice. he went back to eating in silence. a few minutes passed before he looked up at you again. “why wasn’t i there to save you?” he pouted a little.
you thought for a bit, you weren’t really sure why. he went back to his silent eating, knowing that you had no valid answer. he couldn’t help but be jealous at that time, why wasn’t he the good guy in your dream, why did it have to be jungmo?
later that morning he realised how childish and silly it was for him to get jealous and the silent treatment finally came to an end. he found you wherever you were and kissed you on the cheek, following it up with a sincere apology for his reaction.
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jungmo:
he knew you had a soft spot for seongmin, he did too, that wasn’t a secret either. you were spending this halloween with jungmo and his friends. usually you spent it with your younger siblings yet they felt “too old” to go out trick or treating yet “too young” to go to parties. the boys decided to have a small party, with you and some of their close friends invited. you were already changed in your cute carrot costume (that matched with jungmo’s pea costume) when you arrived, greeted at the door by seongmin, who was also in his costume, of course it was a bunny. it took way too long for the pair of you to realise the connection between your costumes but when you did, you pair wouldn’t shut up about it.
“jungmo, look, a bunny and a carrot!!” seongmin exclaimed, excitement clear in his voice.
“aha cute” he said with a gentle smile. he didn’t want to ruin your excitement so he chose to somewhat play along. you expected him to find it funnier and so you questioned him about it when you were alone later that evening.
“what was that all about?” you asked to which he looked at you in bewilderment “aha cute” you mimicked him.
“your costume goes with mine not his” he said sternly “what was the point in us two matching if you’re just going around telling people you pair have the matching outfits? i’m in a pea costume for goodness sake, you think i wanted to be a pea?” he seemed really worked up about it but looking at his reflection in the mirror of his room made him laugh which was a relieving sight for you.
“please stop telling people about your matching costumes, i wanna make this ridiculous look worthwhile” he pleaded, less angrily this time.
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woobin:
you were absolutely drenched from an impromptu water fight that lasted pretty much the whole evening. since you didn’t bring any spare clothes with you, woobin said you could grab his t-shirt from the drying rack back at the dorms. when you and your boyfriend got there, he went to his room to give you some privacy while you changed. when you told him you were decent, he came out and saw you stood there in a massive oversized pink t-shirt, minhee’s massive oversized pink t-shirt.
“do you like it, i think it suits me,” you said jokingly while modelling it for your boyfriend. his face said absolutely not, not the reaction you expected to be honest.
“i’m not sure. i don’t think that shirt is for you.” he said without thinking. “can you change? i’m a little uncomfortable''. you had no idea what he was talking about, you thought maybe you stepped out of line. he went back to his room while you changed, putting on a hoodie that you knew was his. meanwhile, what he'd just said hit woobin like a tonne of bricks. he rushed back out (luckily you were dressed enough) “i was uncomfortable because it was minhee’s, not because you didn’t look good. my jealousy took over my mouth, i’m sorry!!” he stopped and looked you up and down “although you do look better in my clothes” he confessed.
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wonjin:
“can i get my cardigan back? i forgot about my interview today” you text him. “sure, it’s in my room on my bed” he replied almost immediately. he was practicing while some of the others slept but you had a key anyway. you let yourself in and went to his room, knocking and entering hoping not to disturb his roommates if they were in there. you began searching through the thousands of clothes wonjin had thrown all over his bed, getting startled when woobin came in. “can i help you, y/n?” he inquired, standing at the doorway. you told him about your cardigan and he began to look with you, although you weren’t really looking, too busy laughing with each other. you never really knew how funny woobin was given that the only time you saw him was at the dorms, and then he was always busy, but he made you laugh until your sides hurt this particular morning. you finally found the cardigan about 10 minutes later, and tidied the room together like the good people you are.
the front door to the dorms shut and you heard around 4 of the boys scurrying around to get some water. you and woobin both stepped out of the room to see what the kerfuffle was when you saw wonjin looking a little down. you went over and discreetly asked him what's wrong.
“i made them leave early and rush over here so i could help you look. i didn’t realise you already had assistance” he pointed at woobin who was oblivious to what was going on. “i wanted to help you look. not anyone else” a big pout was present on his face.
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minhee:
“y/n~” minhee started. you knew when he started a sentence with your name that the question was going to be one that he wanted a specific answer to. “who was your first bias in cravity?” he asked expectedly. you sat and thought for a while. you didn’t know whether to tell him the truth or tease him for a bit. you opted for the latter because why not!?
“serim” you said confidently. he looked around to see if serim was anywhere nearby before going on to jokingly insult him.
“that guy? the guy who’s like 4cm tall? you must be joking me right?” he started to argue. he didn’t pick up on your teasing and started to get quite defensive. “you know i was in cravity from day 1 right? your boyfriend? do you remember me? i was almost the leader, you know?”
as much as he tried to continue with a joking tone, he was actually a little hurt inside, and he didn’t really hide it well. he’d stutter every once in a while and his impulsive way of talking was unusual for him. you knew you should put him out of his misery right away.
“i’m joking. it was actually you!” you hit his arm while saying so.
if looks could kill you’d have been out cold in that moment. “i really thought your favourite was serim for a second then, not that i was sad or close to tears or anything, i’m not bothered, but, wow you really did that to me?”
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hyeongjun:
”who’s that?” hyeongjun asked while you scrolled through your saved posts on instagram, trying to find the meme you wanted to show him.
you scrolled back up to locate the picture he was talking about. “it’s taeyoung, he literally posted this yesterday” you clarified, tapping it to show him.
he looked at you with his puppy eyes and stuck his bottom lip out “why have you saved a photo of him?”
“uhh” you didn’t want to tell him the truth and expose taeyoung but you felt like you had to at the time “he wanted me to subtly show my friend because he really likes them and he wants them to think he’s cute… i guess” you answered honestly.
hyeongjun let out a huge sigh of relief, he didn’t fully take in what you said but he knew you didn’t save it because you thought he was cute. he never knew he could get so jealous before now, but there was something about seeing another boy in your saved pictures that he just really did not like.
“i really want them to get together to be honest, i think they would look good together, don’t you?” you showed him a photo of your friend who he’d met on multiple occasions.
“huh?” he asked in bewilderment, he really wasn’t listening to your explanation...
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taeyoung:
you were sat drawing at your desk in your room while your boyfriend, taeyoung, sat and played his game on your bed. your incoming call did not gain his attention yet the familiar male voice did once you’d answered it.
“who?” he asked quietly, trying to not interrupt your call.
“wonjin” you whispered back to him.
he relaxed himself back onto the bed, yet he was anything but relaxed. what did wonjin want? why didn’t he just call him, he knew you were together. his face didn’t hide his jealousy either, even when you put the phone down.
“what is it” you asked, noticing his disgruntled face.
“why did he call you?” he asked, “seems a little secretive to me” he jumped straight to conclusions. he sat up once again, waiting for an answer.
“it’s not like that and you know it,” you said in response to his outrageous accusation. “if you’re going to be like that, why don’t you just leave” you said in an even pettier tone than his.
“i don’t want to leave” by now, the argument had clearly turned into a joke as his initial jealousy had disappeared.
“good” you said in a sarcastically stern voice.
“good” he replied in the same manner, putting his game away and opening his arms for you to hug him.
(there’s about 4 gifs of him on this whole site omg 😭)
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seongmin:
the boys and some trainees were all sitting in a circle when you arrived with some take out food. there was a clear space between hyeongjun and his friend so you sat there after placing the food in the middle of the circle. seongmin felt a little hurt but he understood why you did that, despite his efforts to force the others to make space for you in your absence. what didn’t sit right however was when he looked up and saw hyeongjun feeding you a piece of food. he attempted to stay quiet, which was successful for about 3 seconds.
“hey” he shouted over to you pair while trying not to cause a scene “what are you doing?” he questioned. he was a little mad, but he still sounded cute.
“y/n wanted a try of my food but i knew they’d take it all without me feeding it to them” hyeongjun jokes. “pig” he said in an unmistakably sarcastic tone while looking at you.
seongmin appreciated the sarcastic comment yet didn’t appreciate the clear flirting hyeongjun was doing. “y/n, you can sit here, jungmo will move, won’t you?” his eyes burning into jungmo’s soul.
you couldn’t not go and sit next to him and he spent the rest of the evening giving hyeongjun the evils.
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gifs aren’t mine
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dancingkirby · 3 years
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ATLA OC Week Day 5: Secrets
@atlaocweek
Summary: Four girls swap their juiciest secrets at a slumber party, but Naoko is disappointed when hers doesn’t get the reaction she wanted.
WARNING: Underage sexuality without actual sex, mentions of bullying, and some homophobia.  In short, these are not nice girls.
“Shun took me to the theater for my birthday yesterday,” Hana confided, so excited to share this information that there was almost no space between words.  “And while the room was dark and everyone was watching the play, we kissed!  With tongue! And you know what?  I even let him touch my boobs!”  She finally paused to take a breath, then added, “I still had my top on, of course.  I’m not stupid.”
Naoko and her other two friends Etsu and Kazashi made the appropriate oooh-ing sounds.  The four of them were having a sleepover, which was a regular occurrence for them.  Since the rules against idle chitchat at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls were so strict, this was the optimal time for them to catch up on gossip and inform each other of important events in their lives while eating snacks. They took turns hosting, and this time they were at Naoko’s house.  She liked it best this way because she had the largest and nicest bedroom.  
“I take it things are getting serious, then?” Naoko inquired of Hana.
The other girl nodded. “We’re both planning on talking to our parents and seeing if they’ll let us being betrothed.”
Betrothals were not uncommon at the academy; many of the girls in the upper classes had had contracts drawn up already, and even a few of the younger ones.  Naoko didn’t see either set of parents objecting; in fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if they’d already thought of that themselves. On paper, it was a good match…Shun’s family were wealthy merchants, and Hana’s family was noble but short on funds after a series of bad investments by her father.  Both families would benefit from the arrangement.  However, Naoko did wonder what they’d do if the betrothal was arranged and the affianced pair’s infatuation faded.  Hana always had been the most sentimental of the four of them.
“Well, there’s nothing going on in the boyfriend department for me right now,” Etsu said. “But I still have something I think you’ll be interested in hearing.  So Sifu Mingxia asked me to get her a new ink brush from her desk, right? I opened it, and she had a nude drawing in there!”  
“EEEWWWW!” everyone chorused.  As she took a handful of fire flakes, Naoko thought that this was useful information indeed; Sifu Mingxia was a total bitch, and now one of them could potentially use this to blackmail her.  
“And what was more…” Etsu said slowly, relishing in the suspense, “It was a nude drawing of a woman!”
Even better.  It also explained why Mingxia had never been married even though she was like fifty.  
“What, was she trying to hit on you or something?” Hana asked.
“Nah, I don’t think so.  I think she either forgot it was there, or put it there accidentally. I just got the brush without saying anything.”
“Good.  Save it for the next time she gets on your case for being late for class,” Naoko advised.  Honestly, what did that woman expect?  Her class was the first one of the day, at 7:30 AM, and almost no one arrived on time for the first class.
“Well, what about you?” Etsu asked, turning her head toward Kazashi.  “Are you gonna tell us why Okayu tried to challenge you to an Agni Kai last week?”
Naoko gaped. “She did what now?  When did that happen?!” Okayu was the most boring, mediocre, and plain-looking girl in their grade.  The thought of her challenging anyone to anything was downright comical.
“Oh yeah, I think that’s when you were at that dance ceremony,” Etsu said.  “You would’ve loved it.  She was blubbering so hard that she couldn’t even get the words out properly, thus forfeiting her challenge.  So what was that all about, Kazashi?”
Kazashi gave a most wicked grin.  “Well…I happen to know her boyfriend, although he’s probably her ex-boyfriend by now. His name’s Aran, and he’s mega-hot. So I spread a little rumor that Okayu blew Sifu Hongqi in the bathroom so he’d give her a passing grade on the kata test.  And everyone knows how stupid she is, so they all believed it!”
She threw back her head and laughed, and the other three girls joined in.  (Perhaps with a bit of hesitation from Hana?  That would bear watching.)  Naoko had always liked Kazashi the best of the three girls; she was very nearly as ambitious and ruthless as Naoko herself.  
“So are you and Aran an item yet?” Etsu asked once they’d calmed down.
“Not yet.  But I’m working on it,” Kazashi replied. “Now, Naoko, you’ve been pretty quiet tonight.  You haven’t told us about that dance ceremony yet!  It was at the palace.  Surely something interesting happened!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hana said, opening a bottle of nail polish and starting to paint her fingernails with it.  “I went to the palace for a dinner a couple of years ago, and it was really boring. No cute guys or anything.”
Naoko grinned. “Then you must not have been looking hard enough.  Because I definitely met a cute guy while I was there; a very rich and very powerful guy as well.”  She was intentionally a bit evasive with the details since she didn’t want the other girls to figure out who it was and try to nab him for themselves.
“Sounds intriguing!” Etsu said.  “Was he interested in you too?”
“I think so,” Naoko responded.  “He said I had beautiful hair.  And Father said I could marry him as soon as we get his wife out of the picture!  Got any ideas, Kazashi?”
But to her surprise, all of the other girls’ smiles faded, and they looked away from her, making noises of hesitancy.
“Uh…I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Kazashi said at last.  “Splitting up a boyfriend and girlfriend is one thing, but…this guy is married?  Getting involved with a married man would be messy.  How old is he, anyway?”
“He’s not old old,” Naoko said, feeling her face twist into a scowl.  “Only thirty-four.”  What was the big deal, anyway?  Why were they all gasping like that?  It was true that the age gap between them was almost twenty-one years, but there were plenty of noble married couples who were farther apart in age then that…including Kazashi’s own parents.  And it wasn’t like she was getting married right now.
“Yeah, that’s, like, super-creepy.  I wouldn’t do it,” Etsu said.
Feeling a mounting sense of desperation, Naoko turned to Hana and demanded, “What do you think?”  Surely she, newly in the throes of love herself, would understand.  However, Naoko was to be sorely disappointed.  
“Well, if you’re really that into older men, maybe it’d be best to check out someone a little closer to your own age first.  Maybe like sixteen-ish?” Hana suggested.  She had finished painting all of her nails, and was waving them around to dry.  Then something appeared to click in her head. “Wait. I think I know who this guy is. Is it Pr…”
Quick as a flash, Naoko was on her feet, had a hand clamped over Hana’s mouth, and was dragging her outside.  She slammed the door behind them.
“Don’t you dare say his name!” she hissed in a voice that was barely audible; she was well aware that the other two girls would have their ears pressed to the door in an attempt to eavesdrop.  “He’s mine, you hear me?!”
Hana nodded, holding up her hands partly in surrender and partly because she didn’t want her newly-applied nail polish messed up.  When Naoko was satisfied that the girl wouldn’t scream, she removed her hand.
“What’s wrong with you?  I…I wasn’t even interested in him anyway!  I have Shun!” she protested.
“Good,” Naoko whispered.  “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”  Then she opened the door and walked back in to her bedroom like nothing had happened.
The other girls eventually struck up another conversation, but Naoko wasn’t paying attention to it.  She just sat in the corner sulking.  They’d see! While they courted their pathetic adolescent boyfriends, with their acne and barely-visible mustaches, she would be in the arms of a real man.  They’d be sorry when she married the delectable Prince Ozai and became Princess Consort.  Or perhaps…even more?  Father had been dropping hints lately that Ozai might not be content with simply being the spare prince for much longer.  
And if/when Naoko became Fire Lady, she was not going to invite these girls to her sleepovers anymore.  That was for certain.
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andrewmoocow · 3 years
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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 10: Prickly Pair (originally posted on March 22, 2021)
AN: We're getting close to shit gettin' down here! As Steven tries out a new hobby, we learn pretty quickly he refuses to move on from anything while his hobby begins to turn on him. Wow, that's a sentence I never thought I would say.
Synopsis: Steven takes up gardening and grows a sentient cactus that repeats everything he says.
Cast:
Zach Callison as Steven, Cactus Steven
Estelle as Garnet
Michaela Dietz as Amethyst
Deedee Magno Hall as Pearl
Shelby Rabara as Peridot
--
One afternoon in Beach City, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were helping Steven carry large bags of dirt to his conservatory above the beach house. A few days had passed since the Little Homeschool graduation, and Steven had decided what he wanted to do next.
"We got your dirt, dude!" Amethyst exclaimed as she helped the other Gems with carrying the dirt to the conservatory.
"Thanks, guys," Steven replied gratefully while opening the door to the conservatory. "come on in."
Inside, the Gems discovered a beautiful garden of flowers awaiting them. "How many of these did your magic spit grow?" Amethyst asked.
"None." Steven answered with a chuckle. "I grew all these the old-fashioned way."
"So this is what you've been up to since leaving Little Homeschool." Garnet realized.
"Yeah, teaching was great and all, but I dunno if that was my calling in life." Steven said. "Besides, it was really bittersweet seeing the Off-Colors leave."
"Well, I think this is a wonderful way to spend some you time." Pearl praised Steven's new hobby.
"Me time? I'm hardly alone here." Steven snickered before he knelt and gazed at a bluebell flower. "I call this little smartie Connie." Then, he got back up to examine an onion. "And this onion I call, well, Onion." Next, Steven gestured to some perennials. "And these perennials will never leave!" He began to point to a few of them in particular. "That one's Sadie, and this is her band Daisy Clover and the Shrub-Spects." Finally, he walked over to a pink flower in a blue pot with a star on it. "I named this one Lars." Steven revealed before he started talking to it. "You're stuck in the ground, aren't you?" he said in baby-talk. "Not going to zip into space and leave everyone behind. No you won't, no you won't."
Garnet and Pearl just stared at Steven with concerned looks on their faces, but Amethyst was too busy snacking on dirt to look the same.
"Uh, Steven?" Amethyst said, chewing on some of the soil.
"This might not be the healthiest approach to your new hobby." Garnet admitted bluntly.
"Besides, Onion ain't ever leading anytime soon!" Amethyst added. "Unfortunately!" she coughed.
"I'm just having fun, that's all!" Steven fibbed. "You all should take it easy. They're just plants!"
"In that case, we'll leave you to it." Pearl declared while the three Gems left the conservatory.
"Have fun, dude!" Amethyst called while the door closed behind them. After a bit, the door reopened.
"You should probably keep an eye on your plants, though." Garnet warned, peeking her head through the door before leaving again.
As soon as the Gems departed, Steven turned to discover a lonely, decaying cactus sitting on a wooden table behind him. "Huh?" he muttered while walking over to check up on the prickly plant. "What am I doing?" Steven mused to himself. "Is this really my thing now, plants?"
Steven then picked up a knife and began using it to cut off the top of the cactus. "Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl aren't even impressed." He continued monologuing to himself. "I guess gardening just isn't as awesome as saving the universe."
Steven then moved the cactus cutting away from the cactus he cut it from while filling a new pot with dirt. "Okay, little guy, welcome to your new-OUCH!" he yelped in pain from pricking himself on the cactus top, before sticking his injured finger in his mouth. When Steven popped his finger out, the saliva gathered began to sparkle as he placed the cutting in the pot. "Probably should've worn gloves."
Just then, Steven's tummy began to rumble. "Whoa, guess it must be lunchtime." He said to himself before turning to the cactus. "I'll be back for you soon, little guy."
As Steven left the cactus in the conservatory, something about the succulent began to change slowly.
--
"Yo, you think something is up with Steven?" Amethyst asked Garnet and Pearl down at the beach house. "I mean, I'm sure we can all agree it's weird he's naming the plants after people who already parted ways with him."
"Yes, very strange indeed." Garnet agreed. "Perhaps we should talk to him about it."
"Or, maybe we could just leave him alone." Amethyst suggested. "I mean, I'm sure it's a very touchy subject for him."
"That reminds me." Pearl interjected, plucking her phone from her gem. "Childcare book author George Ikari is holding a signing in a week, and I plan on going." She showed Garnet and Pearl a picture of a bearded man with glasses ominously clasping his fingers together while on the cover of a book titled "What to Do When Your Child Feels Directionless."
"That cover doesn't look menacing at all." Amethyst declared sarcastically.
"I'm going to have to side with Pearl for this, Amethyst." Garnet stated. "Maybe this book could be helpful."
Just then, Steven came walking downstairs from the conservatory. "Hey guys, what are you talking about?"
"We were just discussing this author Pearl wants to see some time." Garnet said. "So, how are things going with your plants?"
"I just pricked my finger on a cactus, no big." Steven laughed nervously.
"Oh my, best get that looked at!" Pearl yelped. "Who knows how long till it gets infected?"
"Relax Pearl, I'm fine." Steven replied. "Nothing some healing spit can't fix."
--
The following day, Steven went back up to the conservatory with a watering can in hand to take care of his cactus when he made a startling discovery.
The cactus had grown! Not just bigger and healthier, but it had also grown a face, and was barking like a dog at him.
"Whoa!" Steven exclaimed as he threw the watering can away and raced to the now living cactus. "Oh my gosh, did I make my cactus come to life? I have got to tell the Gems about this!"
--
Downstairs, Amethyst was taking a group selfie with Garnet and Pearl when Steven came to them with his latest discovery.
"Hey guys, look what I made!" Steven proudly presented his plant, which continued barking. "Look at the little guy!"
"I thought you weren't using your spit on your plants?" Amethyst wondered while putting the phone away.
"No, I think I may have accidentally made it come alive with my spit." Steven replied. "I think it may have been after I pricked myself yesterday."
"A likely story!" Amethyst declared, squinting at Steven suspiciously.
"That cactus really bounced back." Garnet remarked, thinking back to how decayed it was yesterday.
"A real survivor, much like you." Pearl added proudly.
"Aww, and he's got a little lumpy head like you!" Amethyst cooed to the cactus. "Hey, why don't we call it Cactus Steven?"
"Cactus Steven, eh?" the real Steven asked. "Call me conceited, but I kinda like it."
Cactus Steven began cooing at the Gems, though in a way that made Pearl concerned. "Is he okay?"
"I think he just wants some sunlight." Steven realized, turning the pot so that his cactus lookalike faced him. "Maybe I could use some too."
--
Throughout the rest of the day, Steven took his little cactus around Beach City and Little Homeworld, showing him to all his friends and introducing the succulent to all the things he liked to do.
As the day rolled to a close, the two Stevens took this moment to just sit down on the beach and watch the sunset together.
"This beach, it just never changes." Steven mused to his new cactus friend. "I mean, a lot has changed. I'm trying to be cool about it, but everything just feels so weird now. Everybody's moving on with their lives, and I should be too. I gave up running the school, but I still don't know what comes next." He then turned to Cactus Steven. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"
As a cactus that only came to life not too long ago, Cactus Steven turned to his Gem/human counterpart with an expression that one would make when saying, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"It's probably better that I'm not running Little Homeschool anymore!" Steven continued, even though Cactus Steven probably isn't able to make a concrete reply. "But who am I to decide what's best for everyone anymore?" Steven then got up and began to walk away from Cactus Steven. "Those Gems are better off learning from Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Lapis, Peridot, Bismuth, everyone!" He started getting more stressed with each word. "Why do I need to be needed?! Come on Steven, what's wrong with you?!"
Cactus Steven turned his little head sideways, or as sideways as he could in his pot, with a sad look Steven's way.
"Sorry I had to dump this all on you, Mini-Me." Steven chuckled apologetically to his plant.
"Eeee!" Cactus Steven squeaked in comfort.
"Okay, let's go home." Steven obliged in understanding, and the pair began making their way back to the temple.
--
Another day passed, and Steven was once again tending to his plants in the conservatory. "Good morning Ronaldo, good morning Nanafua!" he said to his flowers as he watered them. "And a very special good morning-" Steven suddenly tripped over in alarm as he discovered something about Cactus Steven has changed. "-to you. Wow, you really grew overnight!"
"Good morning to you!" croaked Cactus Steven, who now began taking the shape of Steven's head.
"Whoa, did you just speak?!" Steven cried in amazement.
"Whoa, did you just speak?!" Cactus Steven replied.
"This is too much!" Steven shouted. "I've got to tell the Gems about this!"
--
Amethyst was looking at a tablet while Pearl was drawing in a notepad and Garnet reviewed her art downstairs on the couch. "Oh, hello Steven." Pearl greeted Steven as he came downstairs with Cactus Steven in his hand. "Hello Cactus Steven."
"Hey Pearl, you have to see this." Steven said while presenting his cactus counterpart to the Gems.
"Hey Pearl." Cactus Steven mimicked to their amazement.
"That's so freakin' cute!" Amethyst cried.
"He's growing to become quite the talker." Garnet added.
"And he said my name too!" Pearl stated. "You think he might be copying you?"
"I think so." Steven agreed with a shrug.
"Hi Pearl!" Cactus Steven continued. At first it seemed cute, but then the little guy kept talking. "But who am I to decide what's best for everyone anymore?" he began parroting Steven's pensive moment from yesterday. "Everybody's moving on with their lives, and I should be too."
"Uh, this isn't what it sounds like, I swear." Steven said defensively.
"Is it me, or is your cactus real good at self-deprecating?" Amethyst remarked.
"Sorry I had to dump this all o-" Cactus Steven tried to continue before the regular Steven tried to make it shut up by covering his mouth, but that only resulted in more cactus spines on his hand. "Come on Steven, what's wrong with you?!"
"Is something the matter Steven?" Pearl inquired, tilting her head with concern.
Steven refused to answer and instead raced back upstairs while the cactus continued talking. "Why do I need to be needed?! Why do I need to be needed?!"
"See what I told you the other day?" Amethyst said to Garnet and Pearl. "Something's definitely up!"
"Seems like Steven's got some problems he doesn't want our help with." Garnet adjusted her glasses in contemplation. "I suggest we find a way to help him without getting him too wound up."
"Still, it seems like Steven's letting a lot of issues just bottle up inside him." Pearl began worrying. "This is definitely not healthy. I think George Ikari might've said that in one of his books."
--
Back at the conservatory, Steven sat Cactus Steven on the table to give him a firm talking-to. "What was all that for?!" he yelled angrily. "I wanted that stuff to be private, but here you go just spouting out words that'll make everyone freak out about me!"
"What was all that for?!" Cactus Steven copied his master.
"Because I thought you'd be nice to talk to!" Steven complained as he began pacing around the conservatory. "I can't tell Pearl how I feel, cause then she'd get super depressed and start blaming herself like she always does! Meanwhile, Garnet would probably give me advice while sounding all high and mighty, Amethyst would try to look mature, and no one else would understand me!"
"No one else would understand me!" Cactus Steven aped Steven's words.
"I know, right? I mean, get over yourself already." Steven scoffed. "Please don't tell anyone I said that."
"I thought you'd be nice to talk to!" Cactus Steven continued impersonating his fleshy counterpart before Steven covered him up with a box. "What was all that for?!"
"Oh you know what." Steven coldly declared as he exited the conservatory. "I can't let anyone find out about this." He sighed heavily just as he found Amethyst standing nearby.
"Find out about what?" Amethyst asked Steven.
"Oh oh oh, it's nothing Amethyst, honest!" Steven began fibbing while his pupils began shifting around. "I mean, why do you ask?"
"Just wanted to check up on you, brah." Amethyst replied with a comforting hand on Steven's arm. "Look, if you need help, just say the word, and we'll be there."
"Okay then." Steven moaned. "That reminds me, is Peridot doing anything at the moment?"
--
"So, you are saying this cactus has begun to imitate everything you say?" Peridot asked Steven as she examined Cactus Steven under a magnifying glass at her greenhouse.
"Yeah, and it's starting to freak me out a little too." Steven answered.
"Get over yourself already!" Cactus Steven yelled, his voice beginning to sound a little clearer to their pair's alarm.
"Is there anything you can do to stop this?" Steven asked Peridot hopefully.
"I must apologize, Steven, but I don't think I can be of any assistance." Peridot replied morosely.
"No one else would understand me!" Cactus Steven continued imitating, seemingly agreeing with Peridot.
"See what I mean?" the little green Gem remarked with a thumb to Cactus Steven. The Steven she knew just buried his face in his hands and tried his hardest not to yell in frustration.
Outside the greenhouse, a small, black spy camera watched the greenhouse as Steven left with Cactus Steven in hand. But the moment Peridot turned around, it suddenly activated a camouflage feature.
--
That night, Steven had decided to close the conservatory to watch Cactus Steven, posting a sign on the door saying that the little cactus needed rest.
"Now all the Gems are worried about me, and Peridot wasn't any help either." Steven moaned in defeat while sitting near Cactus Steven. Just then, he heard some muffled yelling coming from the box he hid the living succulent in. "Hm?"
Walking over to the box, Steven picked it up to discover that Cactus Steven had grown some more, and had even sprouted an arm from the soil.
"Oh my gosh! Cactus Steven, what's wrong with you?!" Steven began panicking.
"What's wrong with you?" Cactus Steven repeated, earning his bigger self's ire.
"What's wrong is that you keep making me look stupid and helpless in front of everyone!" Steven cried furiously as he picked up the pot.
"Stupid!" Cactus Steven mocked Steven and pointed his newly grown arm at him. "Helpless!"
"I wish you wouldn't talk!" Steven argued before he began to glow pink.
"I wish YOU wouldn't talk!" Cactus Steven replied just as angrily.
"STOP IT!" Steven fully glowed pink, but then abruptly stopped when he heard Pearl's voice.
"Steven, time for dinner!" Pearl called for him from downstairs.
"Coming Pearl, just give me a second!" Steven replied to Pearl, and then turned back to Cactus Steven with an angry glare. "Not. Another. Word."
As Steven left the conservatory, Cactus Steven once again began to grow. "Not. Another. Word."
--
Early the next morning, Steven was asleep in his bed when suddenly, he was awakened by the sound of breaking glass. He raced up to the conservatory, where it was in total disarray, and a large hole was made in the glass wall.
"Uh, Cactus Steven?" Steven called for the living cactus while following a trail of needles leading back to his room. "If you're mad about yesterday, I get it, but I'm just going through some things right now."
Steven looked around with nervousness and curiosity, while a massive lump revealed itself on his bed. Cactus Steven slowly rose from under the blanket, revealing that he was now around Steven's height with a foot still stuck in his pot. "STEEEEVEEEEEN!"
"Whoa!" Steven yelled in terror, causing him to fall down the stairs and onto the table. Cactus Steven tumbled after the boy and was prepared to crush him before Steven rolled out of the way. "Cactus Steven, you need to go back to your home!"
"Go back to your home!" Cactus Steven croaked in reply.
"This is my home!" Steven shrieked while trying to push the cactus beast away from him, only to be covered in cactus needles. "AGH!" he yelled in agony while trying to shake some of the needles off. Cactus Steven did the same, which made more needles fly around the room.
"Just cut it out!" Steven yelled.
"Just get out!" Cactus Steven yelled back, charging at his doppelganger like an angry predator.
"Don't come any closer!" Steven summoned his shield to protect himself from any more needles.
"STEEEEEVEEEEEN!" Cactus Steven roared, just as Steven thrust his shield into his succulent counterpart's torso.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Steven frantically apologized.
Cactus Steven, however, didn't feel any pain, except for a large gash created by the shield thrown into his shoulder. After dislodging the shield, Cactus Steven threw the weapon back at Steven. "This is my home!"
"He's gone berserk!" Steven yelled fearfully before he found three figures approaching the front door. "The Gems!"
"The Gems don't need me anymore!" Cactus Steven said.
"Those are my private thoughts, and you should know it!" Steven scolded the cactus. "I can't let them hear about this!"
"What an all-nighter, am I right?!" Amethyst quipped as she, Garnet and Pearl returned to the beach house.
"Those Gems did need to get some extra studying in." Garnet replied.
"Plus, there was that strange camera thing that kept following us around." Pearl added. "I could've sworn it's leading up to something bigger, but it shut down before I could question it."
Before Pearl could say anymore, Steven came barging out the front door. "Oh, hey guys!" he laughed nervously. "Uhh, everything's fine and totally normal, nothing to see here! Hey, you think maybe you could wait a couple of hours? I've got things to do, okay, BYE!"
The Gems turned to the window as Steven fought against Cactus Steven with his shield, cluing them in on what was going on.
"Man, someone's been hittin' the photosynthesis!" Amethyst quipped before the Crystal Gems summoned their weapons and headed inside.
"We're here to help Steven!" Pearl declared protectively.
"I can't tell Pearl how I feel, cause then she'd get super depressed and start blaming herself like she always does!" Cactus Steven said in response to Pearl, making her drop her guard.
"What?" Pearl muttered in shock.
"I have no idea what he's talking about!" Steven continued to fib.
"But it's not inaccurate!" Amethyst snarked.
"JUST, GET, OUT!" Cactus Steven bellowed as he charged at the Gems, but Garnet punched his arm off, and it was sent flying at the fridge. However, it soon quickly got back up and grew tendrils from its stump to stand on.
"Whoa, that's kicka-" Amethyst began before she was kicked in the face by Cactus Steven's foot, breaking the pot and making shards fly everywhere. As Cactus Steven started to get up, Garnet punched the rest of him towards the sink, breaking it and dousing him in water.
Meanwhile, the arm launched itself at Pearl and was impaled on her spear, but then it exploded in her face and covered her in needles. "Eugh-ga-hahahaha!" Pearl groaned from the needles covering her.
As for Cactus Steven, he began to absorb the water from the sink and grow even larger, sprouting more limbs along with more Steven faces all over his body, all of them repeating Steven's venting just like the main head.
"The Gems don't need me!" Cactus Steven's heads yelled in unison while causing the house to fall apart by stomping around. "I thought you'd be nice to talk to!"
"Okay, Pinoke, that's even being a puppet!" Amethyst declared while wrapping her whip around the cactus monster's leg. Cactus Steven grabbed onto a rafter to keep himself from falling, but it was no help, and the rafter was split in two.
"Cut it out!" the cactus creature yelled while wrapping Amethyst in his roots and slamming her into the ceiling before Garnet and Pearl tried to rescue her. Unfortunately, Pearl found her spear getting stuck in the monster's thick & fleshy skin.
"Why is this thing so durable?!" Pearl complained while Cactus Steven tried to get her off.
"The cactus is Earth's most durable plant!" Garnet declared before she gave the cactus's leg a strong punch, making more spines fly everywhere and once again pricking Pearl.
"Garnet!" Pearl stuttered for her de-facto leader before her spear was freed from the cactus's body, and she fell down.
"Give up; you can't win this fight, you giant succulent!" Garnet declared.
"Garnet would probably give me advice while sounding all high and mighty!" Cactus Steven complained, catching the fusion by surprise.
"I'm sorry, what?" Garnet asked as she was punched away. Amethyst scaled the ceiling with her whip in her mouth, and she dropped down onto Cactus Steven's back to attack.
"Sneak attack!" Amethyst cried.
"Amethyst would try to look mature!" Cactus Steven babbled, much to the defective Quartz's confusion.
"Why's he so oddly specific in complaining about us?" Amethyst asked before both halves of Cactus Steven clamped shut on her. She was dumped on the ground while covered in cactus spines, followed by all three Crystal Gems being pinned against the temple entrance wall.
"I think I got it!" Steven realized while the Gems screamed in terror. "He's repeating me, he's repeating all my private thoughts!" Then, he got an idea. "Wait, he can copy me! Girls, I got a plan!" Steven bravely marched up to his cactus with shield in hand, ready to put his plan into action. "Hey Cactus Steven, have some of this!"
But instead of attacking, Steven de-summoned his shield. "I'm sorry I mistreated you." Steven apologized to Cactus Steven. "I know you didn't want to hurt anyone, because you're copying the only role model you got: me."
While Steven apologized, Cactus Steven stopped attacking while the Crystal Gems popped out of the wall at last. "I should've given you the love and kindness you deserved." Steven declared, and then spread out his arms. "Now, you want a hug?"
"Huh?" Cactus Steven muttered quizzically as the real Steven began to hug his massive leg. In response to this act of kindness, one more change began to occur.
"Dudes, look!" Amethyst pointed out that pink flowers were now blooming all over Cactus Steven's body as he returned Steven's hug.
"I'm sorry." Cactus Steven apologized back.
"Okay, come on, big guy." Steven broke the hug, now covered in spikes himself. "Let's get you back to the dome."
"No!" Cactus Steven yelled before he began to walk away from the four he had been fighting moments ago.
"Wait, where are you going?!" Steven exclaimed as he raced after Cactus Steven. "I'll fix up the dome real nice, all for you!"
Cactus Steven gave no words. Instead, he plucked one of the flowers off his body and gave it to Steven before he broke through the front wall and began walking away.
"Uh, Steven?" Pearl called while picking spikes off her body.
"Anything you'd like to say to us?" Garnet asked the boy, who just stared down at the flower in his hands, and let out a heavy sigh.
"I think I've said enough." Steven said wearily.
--
Later that day, Cactus Steven continued its sojourn away from the Crystal Temple and eventually Beach City, now making his way into the woods nearby. And he kept mimicking Steven all the way.
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone, so I copied the only role model I got." Cactus Steven muttered to himself. "But Steven still gave me the love and kindness I deser-"
Before Cactus Steven could finish, he felt something stabbing him straight through the torso. "WHAAAT?!" he yelled before he was cut to pieces by a sword with a black grip & guard bearing a white diamond symbol.
Once she had finished reducing Cactus Steven to chunks of cactus, Black Rutile gazed down at one of the flowers that once adorned her victim's body and heartlessly crushed it beneath her foot without a second thought. She then changed her tune into something more relaxed and less sadistic as she began to round up whatever pieces of Cactus Steven remained and collect them all in a bubble.
One of the Cactus Steven remains turned into a little Steven head that let out a tiny roar, prompting Black Rutile to smile and stroke her chin in deep contemplation.
--
Aw jeepers, it's Black Rutile again! What has she got planned for Cactus Steven? Just another question that'll be answered when this part is reaching it's end. But next time, we get to see Peridot take the stage again as we look into Steven's dreams! Keep an eye out folks.
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marvelsdc22 · 5 years
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The Professor And I Season 2 (pt. 7)
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Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Here’s the next part and I hope you guys enjoy!! :)
Note: Y/N is a student. Lena is a professor. Y/N questions Lara, Brainy can’t find an answer, Dominguez is suspicious, things get sketchy.
Word Count: 1449
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6
When you woke up the next morning, you quickly looked at your hand and saw that it still looked fine, the small red dot on your hand being the only indication that anything had happened yesterday, but you could easily hide it if you needed to, looking over when you heard Kara shift in her bed, worried she might’ve woken up but thankfully she hadn’t, looking at your phone and thinking maybe Lena messaged you, only for you to remember what had happened… You guys were done for and for the time being, you knew there was no way that was going to change, though you did see a message from Brainy and one from Lara.
So, the sample isn’t all that clear… I’m going to see what I can get from it and update you later – Brainy
Cool, if you need anything else, just let me know – You
Heading into the bathroom, you set your phone on the sink before taking a quick shower before getting ready, grabbing your phone once more
You up for studying together tonight? – Lara
Sure, I need to take my mind off of things – You
Wanna talk about it? – Lara
Maybe later tonight… Want to get breakfast? – You
Yeah! I’ll meet you in the lobby – Lara
You smiled a bit before pocketing your phone, going and pulling your shoes on and glancing at Kara who was fast asleep still and drooling, causing you to chuckle before you grabbed your bag and hoodie before heading out, deciding to bring Kara some breakfast back so that she’d have something to eat before she left for class.
Going into the lobby, you raised an eyebrow when you saw Lara talking to someone that looked oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put a name to the face, waiting until he walked away before walking over to Lara “Hey, who was that?” You asked, watching as she turned and smiled at you before waving off your question “My archaeology professor, Mr. Simon” she explained, that ringing a bell in your head, it was the archaeology professor that Vikander had helping with the thing in the lab, but you didn’t dig much deeper, but you couldn’t help but wonder… Why did he come to the dormitory?
At the dining hall, you got your food and found an open spot, smiling when Lara sat down across from you “So… What was Mr. Simon doing at the dorm?” You asked, still hooked on that and catching a glimpse of panic in Lara’s eyes before it vanished “Oh, I just left something in his office when I went to his office hours, he was returning it to me” Lara said, taking a bite of her breakfast while you stared at her curiously, not buying it but you weren’t going to push any further with it, so you opted to eat instead.
Getting back to your dorm with a container full of food for Kara, rolling your eyes when you saw she was still asleep “Hey, get up, you’re going to be late” you said, shaking her lightly and hearing her grumble before you held the container in front of her nose which instantly made her shoot up “Food” Kara said, taking the container from you “I knew that’d get you up” you chuckled, going and sitting on your bed, closing your eyes for a moment when you were hit with a dizzy spell “Thank you, you’re a life saver” Kara said, her mouth full of food “Yeah yeah, I know” you chuckled, looking at her and glancing at your phone when it vibrated.
So uh, that sample you got for me is inconclusive… I don’t know what’s in there, it’s like it’s not even real, there’s chemicals and stuff in it that I don’t even think exist… What did you even get this from? – Brainy
I don’t know what it is, they won’t tell me anything…. I’ll try to get a picture of it tomorrow when I’m in the lab – You
You stared at your phone with your brows furrowed, now wondering even more what was happening if the smartest guy you knew didn’t even know what it was “Everything okay?” Kara asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you jump “What? Yeah, just talking to Brainy about some homework and got confused” you lied, looking at her and able to tell she didn’t buy it, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn’t say anything else and went back to eating “So… How’s Sasika/Krypto?” You asked, knowing that she had left the pup at a family friends “Good! They’re settling in well” Kara said, you happy that seemed to drop the previous conversation entirely.
Later after classes, you were at the gym since you needed to stay fit for the soccer season when it returned, your music turned up and you running on the treadmill when your phone vibrated on the treadmill, your eyebrow raising when you saw it was a number not saved in your phone, stopping the treadmill and escaping to the bathroom “Hello?” You answered, pacing in the empty bathroom “Mr./Miss Y/L/N?” A familiar sounding voice asked “Yeah… Who’s asking?” You asked, your brows furrowing “It’s Dominguez, Alicia gave me your number” he said, not really helping you relax since why would she give him your number “I need you to meet me in the lab in twenty minutes, don’t be late” he said before hanging up, not even allowing you to reply as you huffed in frustration, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice, so you went to go change.
At the lab, you set your bag down and saw Dominguez leaned over one of the desks, looking over some paperwork that was spread out along the desk “You needed me?” You asked, watching as he glanced at you before gesturing for you to join him, when you got close enough, you saw what looked like drawings of old tombs “What’s with all the tombs?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow “It coincides with what we’re researching” he said simply, you knowing that was all you were going to get with him… Still not trusted enough “What did you need me for?” You asked, looking around and seeing a few new machines having been added to the lab “You’re studying neuroscience, correct?” He asked, causing you to raise an eyebrow but nod “I need you to look over these, I don’t have enough experience for it and we couldn’t get Luthor to help us” he said, handing you some samples in some vials and you freezing when he mentioned Lena “Of course” you said, going over to some lab equipment and setting the samples on the counter… Why did they need Lena and why did she say no?
After a few hours, you sighed and rubbed your eyes, looking over at Dominguez who was now once again messing with the thing in the cage “I have to do something, I’ll be right back” he said, looking at you before he went out, you waiting until you couldn’t hear his footsteps before you rushed over to the cage and pulled your phone out, taking as many photos as you could before shoving your phone back into your pocket and returning to your station just as the door opened “I’m not finding much with these” you said, trying to act normal and hearing him sigh “Thank you for trying… We’ll have more for you tomorrow” he said, waving his hand and that being your queue to leave, grabbing your things and heading towards the door “Oh and, Y/N?” Dominguez asked, causing you to stop and look over your shoulder at him “Be careful with those samples” he said, glancing at your hand which you quickly hid in your pocket “Right” you said before quickly escaping.
Once you were free of the lab, you pulled your phone out and examined the photos you had taken, gasping and dropping your phone when one in particular got you, glancing around before picking your phone back up and examining the picture, the thing in the cage had seemed to turned and looked straight at the camera, the red eyes and sharp teeth being an indicator that this thing was real, and very much alive, you sending it to Brainy along with a few other images so he could look them over, pocketing your phone before starting to walk back towards your dorm when another dizzy spell hit you, you stopping and closing your eyes to try to get it to go away, it not working this time and you hearing fast footsteps approaching you before you collapsed and everything went dark.
Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates​​ / @5aftermidnight​ / @youngandwildx7​ / @stewie-castle​ / @hopingforbarnes​
Supergirl Taglist: @x-danvers-x​​​​​​​​​​​​ / @aznblossom​​​​​​​​​​​​ / @stop-drop-and-drumroll​​​​​​​​​​​​ / @worlds-in-words​​​​​​​​​​​​
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End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I’m so glad that it’s back!! If you would like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!!
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webarebares · 4 years
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Queen of Arms Chapter 1
I decided to post my Zelink fic here because I’m lonely on Ao3. Here’s the link to it there and it’ll be cut down below :) It deals a lot of with healing and repressed feelings and also they’re kind of exes that weren’t exes.
Summary:  With Link barely remembering her, and Zelda still living in parts of the past, it's hard for them to know how to interact with each other. As Link starts regaining pieces back, Zelda and him have to figure out how to process everything that they have gone through to be able to regain what they once had. That is, if Link wants to.
-
It ached. Deep inside the cavities of her chest danced fire that would never be put out. The castle she once lived in was still full of malice and all the bricks were loose, easily ready to fall in one quake. Almost every single person she grew up loving was gone forever, and even if it had not taken 100 hundred years to return, the initial explosion of The Calamity could’ve never brought them back.
Zelda clipped back her long hair to keep it out of her face as she read behind the Goddess Statue in Karakiko Village. She hid there, reading on the floor to stay away from people for a while. Important Hyrule officials had all flooded the village the weeks before to start the process of reconstruction and find the way to fund everything. The most civilization they had standing was the stable association and the few towns. After barely surviving Ganon, she was still queen at seventeen. She was going to have to fight her whole life.
People were leaving at that moment and would gather back there in a month to finalize everything, but she didn’t want to say goodbye to every single person. She only said bye to Lady Riju who she formed a good friendship within a short amount of time. Riju helped Zelda sneak out of meetings when they had gone on for too long, and they would talk about Urbosa over sweets the children in the village would make them. They would all go around taking pictures near the Great Fairy Fountain on the Shiekah slate Link returned to her.
Link was off doing a secret mission for Impa that she wasn’t told about until he was gone. Right before the Calamity, her and Link were close friends and although he didn’t say much, he would tell her everything. She remembered every sensation of trust and admiration she had towards him along with… other things.
But now, it was hard to have good conversations with him. They were rare and Zelda would think about every word that left his lips like she could lose him again tomorrow. Zelda knew Link before The Calamity, but the Link that she briefly traveled with before settling in Karakiko? He was just a person she once met in a dream.
Link remembered next to nothing, still. He didn’t ask her a lot about before The Calamity and Zelda didn’t push to teach him. If she had the chance to forget the love for the people she couldn’t save, she probably would take it. It’d make living in this new lifetime more bearable.
Link would remember some things here and there. He recently remembered his father and some memories of them together at the outposts before he died. He said he heard his dad’s voice tell him he was proud of him. It was one of the few things he did ask Zelda about the past- how did his father die?
She wondered if he felt like he was getting the news for the first time again when she was telling him. If he remembered all the love his had for his father even if he hadn’t remembered his face or name just hours before.  Zelda remembered all the love she had for her dad the minute she was whole again and searched for it at the top of the Temple of Time with Link guarding her every step on the ripped up roof. All that was there was wind and the distant bones of Hyrule Castle.
Unable to focus on the book she was reading, she closed it and started drawing in the dirt. She wrote out her name.
ZELDA
She hesitated before she stared writing again.
L
“Queen Zelda,” someone called out. She immediately kicked away the writing her foot, awkwardly standing up. She walked to the other side of the Goddess statue and saw Paya standing with her head bowed. “So sorry to interrupt you,” she said quietly. Zelda didn’t know why Paya was intimidated by her, but she had an inkling it had to do with Impa’s abrasive attitude. “I was told I could find you here.”
“You’re fine, Paya,” Zelda replied with a smile she couldn’t see. “Am I needed?”
“My grandmother wanted me to tell, to tell you that everyone has left. You can come back now,” she bowed once again and ran off in a direction that wasn’t the house where they were both staying. Zelda got her book from the ground and made her way back to Impa’s house. She wouldn’t call Paya out for her for nothing but also, she would.
She closed the door behind her, Impa in her usual seat. Her eyes were closed, but she spoke, “I don’t mean to intrude my queen-,”
Zelda cut her off, “Call me Zelda. Please. We’ve been friends for over 100 years now.” Impa had a small smile on her face, most likely throwing her off from what she was going to say.
She licked her lips, seeming to try to recollect herself. “It seems you’ve gained yourself sense of humor while you were off in the Spirit Realm”
“I had time to think of everything I’d tell everyone when I first saw them.” Link was the only one left to check off.
“As I was saying,” Impa continued, “you have the respect of everyone. You cannot afford to lose it when your kingdom is so fragile. You can’t seem uninterested in the affairs of the people, or the people will lose hope. Nobody will steal the throne from you, but it’ll be harder to govern if you’re not the face everyone sees leading these choices.” Zelda felt like she was getting scolded by her father, the same buzz of shame vibrating through her core. Only difference was that Impa knew. Her father just guessed.
“I wish someone would try to take the throne from me,” Zelda sighed, looking down at the floor.
“You still have fight left in you?”
“No.” Zelda shook her head, looking back at her old friend. “I’d let them keep it.”
“You’re not an heir to nothing, you know that, right?” Impa asked her for the third time since Ganon was taken down. Zelda thought about Riju and all the little kids in Karakiko village who had lived their whole lives watching darkness radiate from Hyrule Castle until her and Link locked it away.
“I’m starting to believe it.”
Link got to Karakiko a few days after the higher ups left. The last time she spent a lot of time with him was when they went to Zora’s Domain to investigate Vah Ruta. They didn’t find any clues before Zelda had to come back to Karakiko to attend meetings. Even then, most of the talking was done by Zelda and pointing out things she saw when she was fighting Ganon. There wasn’t a lot to talk about with strangers.
She saw him early in the morning after leaving the bedroom she shared with Paya. Her hair was in a messy braid and she rushed to let it loose. “Good morning, Link,” she told him. He bowed from where he stood at the wall, and it made her think of when he was her royal guard. He still wore it often even if there wasn’t a team to match with.
Zelda looked around the room but saw that Impa wasn’t in her usual spot and at that time in the morning, Paya would be off cleaning outside. “Do you know where Impa is?” Link asked her. Her head quickly snapped to look at him.
“I’m not sure,” Zelda looked around as if Impa would be hidden in a small corner of the room. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. He went back to resting on the wall. “I’ll just wait here.” She felt awkward sometimes being in Impa’s house and doing things without explicitly asking, but she was sure she wouldn’t mind.
“Do you want to come into the kitchen and have breakfast with me?” she asked with her hair out of its braid. “There’s seafood fried rice left over from yesterday.” He looked at her for a moment, his mouth slanted as he thought. “There’s no need for modesty. I know you have quite an appetite. You might not remember, but we were really good friends once.” It stung to say that. Link just gave her a small smile and nodded before following her into the kitchen that was hidden behind sliding screen doors.
Zelda started a fire under the pot to warm the food up and gestured for Link to take a seat on one of the floor pillows. He did it without question which surprised her because he seemed to tiptoe around her. She got another pot to brew tea. One thing she liked about present time is that she got to do things for herself. Usually, she would get interrupted by a maid to let them do any little thing for her and she felt strange saying no. But now, the most someone would ask to do something for her was when Paya asked her if she needed help, and if she said no, Paya didn’t push it. She wondered sometimes if Paya knew how much she appreciated her.
Zelda sat diagonal from Link to wait until one of the things boiled. She purposely avoided sitting across from him because she wouldn’t be able to help stare. That’s most of what she did as they made their way to Zora’s Domain. Spiritually, she had been close to him for the year it took for him to get to her. That was never enough. Now, he was right in front of her and she could reach out and touch his face with consequences.
“How were the meetings?” Link asked, tapping his fingers on the lowered table. A spark of excitement flashed through her chest.
“Drawn out and boring. I snuck out a few times with Riju I must admit,” she said with a coy smile. Link looked at her with a raised brow. She wondered if he just remembered the parts of her that were all business which is why this confused him. “Impa was a little upset with me, but I’ll make up for it later. Everything is still,” she stopped talking. She didn’t know how to describe everything.
“Too much?” Link tried to finish.
Zelda nodded. “Yes. Too much.” Even then, too much wasn’t enough to describe all the feelings in her body.
“You were excited to start reconstruction,” Link reminded her. She was. The minute she could breathe in the Hyrule air and hold petals in her hand, she knew she was back where she belonged. It was her job and duty to nurture and love her kingdom.
But it got hard. Quick.
Not even a month went by before the reality of everything started to slow her down and now, she could barely lift a finger to do anything. The idea of being queen and bringing Hyrule to glory under her leadership slowly formed itself into a constant reminder that she was queen because her father was dead. There wouldn’t have been a need for reconstruction if she had unlocked her powers sooner. If she had admitted things to herself sooner so many people could’ve lived much longer than what they did.
Zelda looked at Link’s face while his eyes were drawn down to his hands. He had a new scratch on his cheek. It wasn’t deep, and it had scabbed up already in a thin line. Zelda said, “I think I was just a lot more joyful when we first won and now I see the cost of a delayed victory. So many people died.” Zelda sighed as she thought of the census they delivered to her at one of the meetings. “Hyrule has such a low population I could invite everyone to live at the castle once we figure out how to get rid of the malice.” Link smiled like he did a hundred years ago when they’d joke around. It brought so much comfort to her that she didn’t want to take her eyes off of it, even when he caught her looking.
“Maybe start off with Castle Town.”
Impa returned soaked in water. Link and Zelda were in the main area of the house talking when she walked in. Paya was frantically rushing to get her to her room to change, but Impa scowled at her. “Paya, let me greet Link first.” Impa slowly walked to the middle of the room where Link stood, and he seemed amused with the situation. “Good to see that you’re back. Let me get settled and we’ll have a private talk in the kitchen over tea.” Link who unknowingly to Impa just drank two cups, simply nodded. Impa and Paya headed into one of the rooms, Zelda looking at Link who was now stretching.
Zelda couldn’t help but ask, “Is this about your secret mission.” Link let out quick chuckle.
“I guess you can say that,” he said. His mouth fell open in a quick moment of remembrance as he a muttered a quick oh and started to search through his bag. He pulled out a familiar red book and handed it to Zelda, “This is yours.” Zelda stared between the fragile book spine and Link’s eyes. Zelda then took it and opened it to the first page to confirm what it was.
“How?” she asked in awe. “After all these years?” Link didn’t say anything, but he seemed glad to have brought it back to her. Zelda started to flip through many pages at once, recognizing her handwriting that differed depending on her anxiousness or excitement of the peculiar days. It was more than half empty as she just started it a year or so before the calamity hit.
There was one page she had to stop to look at. In the corner of a page, she had drawn an all-too-familiar sword next to a Silent Princess flower, the letter L written in cursive in different sizes all over it. It was one of the last times she had written. She quickly shut it, her cheeks warm. “Did you read it?” she asked, refusing to look at him. There was a silence and then there was Impa loudly making her way into the main room.
“Off to the kitchen with you, boy,” she said, pushing Link away from her.
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