#“i love you” and “baby” were static words until he broadcasted them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mikkomacko · 4 years

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Dear Daisy 4

Daisy's buttering up toast for Harry's late breakfast, radio playing the news through static speakers when the dreaded words are spoken. It's Chamberlain's address, the one they've been waiting for for a couple months now, but that doesn't mean she's at all prepared to hear the news.

"... consequently this country is at war with Germany."

She freezes, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. He's dropped the newspaper he was reading, the paper now laying in a heap on the table, but he looks unfazed. Picking at his bottom lip, brows furrowed, it appears as if he'd been expecting the declaration. Maybe he did know it was coming. After all, he's got good connections with government officials and media personnel.

They're both silent as the Prime Minister finishes his speech, claiming that Hitler is a threat to peace in all countries and needs to be stopped. He says that he expects the people of Britain to cooperate with courage, and that they're unwavering faith is what will restore peace in Europe. It's always about peace.

Harry doesn't speak until the radio has returned to regular news broadcast, notifying everyone of the weather conditions for the next week. "S'about time I suppose, that fucker's been walking on thin ice for awhile."

His nonchalance is calming, enough to have her finishing up his breakfast and carrying the plate over to him. He thanks her quietly, and she retreats back to the kitchen for her cup of her tea. She ate this morning while Harry was still sleeping in. She sits in her usual seat across from him, heart thumping. A war? She was barely a baby during the Great War, not even as old as Kitty, and she can't recall what it was like at all. But war is no good, it's scary. It's death and blood and separation of families.

"Are you going to have to fight?"

Harry looks up at her, a bite of sausage halfway between his mouth and plate, obviously caught off guard by the question. She mumbles an apology, eyes dropping to the table top as he finishes his bite.

"Suppose so. S'only a matter of time before they announce men over 18 must sign up." Once again he speaks as if it's no big deal, as if packing up and strapping a gun to his back to go kill Germans is just an average day-to-day activity.

"And if they don't? If they only call for volunteers?"

This time Harry doesn't look up, eyes still floating over the newspaper. "Then I'll volunteer." He takes another bite of food, chewing slowly. Daisy sips her tea, hand trembling pathetically. She doesn't know why she's so nervous. They've won a war before, crushed Germany into smithereens that left it in a depression worse than theirs. Maybe it's because this time she's aware of the war. Or because she knows Harry will be going to fight.

"You're acting like this is nothing more than a business meeting with competition."

Harry shrugs, flipping the paper to the next page. "My father fought in the war to keep my mum and sister safe, and I'll proudly do the same for them..."his eyes briefly flicker up to her, piercing over the edge of the paper before he hides behind it again, "and you."

Daisy's whole body rushes with heat, butterflies swarming her chest and she stutters on her breath as she tries to find a response. As her fiance it's sort of his privellage (and curse) to protect to her, but he almost sounds proud to offer himself up for her, and that's not really something she'd expect from an arranged marriage. Shouldn't he feel like he's being forced to fight for her just as he's being forced to marry her?

"T-that's..." she says quietly, throat tightening when he actually looks at her this time. He looks apprehensive, perhaps embarrassed by what he said, and it makes her heart beat even faster. He's being vulnerable with her. Just a tiny bit, but still. He's showing her a part of him, one she didn't know existed. She thought he was just prideful and rude, but there's something more. Not a lot of people could look upon an incoming war with their chin up and chest out, but Harry doesn't it easily. "That's really brave." She finally finishes, and for the first time in her life, his arrogance pleases her.

The only wedding shop in town is a small one, only holding a couple dressing rooms and few racks of dresses. Daisy always dreamed of having a wedding with lots of flowers, maybe in one of the nicer parks or her parents backyard. She never put a lot of thought into it, but she did know that she for sure wanted it outdoors and she wants to pick the flowers. Which leaves her a bit unprepared for picking a wedding dress.

They're all beautiful, silky and pearl white, some with lace and others without, but that's it. They're all plain and simple, nothing to make them pop even just the slightest bit. Her depleted mood at seeing yet another gown just like the others goes unnoticed, at least by her mother and Anne, who are both pulling out dresses and veils and garters by the handful. Harry's trailing behind her, a glass of champagne held delicately in his left hand as he halfheartedly watches the girls browse through the racks. Gemma is flipping through a book of some sort, most likely one filled with more dress ideas, so she's not too surprised that her pout is overlooked. At least she thinks it is, until Harry lays a soft hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back from the dull gown she was practically glaring at.

"If you don't find one you love, don't get one at all." he says firmly, and if this were a week ago she'd probably scowl at the roughness in his tone.

She tears her eyes away from the dress, looking up at him with disappointed eyes. "But I have to find one. I can't just wear normal clothes to this-"

"Shush," he interrupts, taking a sip of his drink. She can't help but notice how pretty his pink lips look when they're stained with gold-hued drink. "you'll get a dress but I don't want you wasting money on one you'll hate. We can talk to the dress maker, see what she can cook up for you."

His thoughtfulness is sweet, even if it's a little shocking. She supposes he doesn't want her looking too miserable walking down the aisle, but with the way things are unfolding, he shouldn't worry. It seems the more time Daisy spends around him, the more she has to fight off excitement at the thought of being with him forever. She tells herself it's just the business side of it, despite his attitude, he's a dream husband. Handsome, a little rugged but somehow still beautiful, and he'll always be able to provide food and a home, and he's not too mean about her hobbies and likes. Maybe she's fooling herself, but it's easier for her to do that. She can't imagine how embarrassing I'd be to tell Harry that she may actually like him just to have him laugh or make a comment about that "not being part of the deal."

"You don't cook up a dress Harry." She teases, tone light despite the very heavy pounding of her heart. He scoffs, muttering something that sounds like "Lord help me," before bringing his glass up for another lengthy drink. Daisy can't help but giggle quietly, eyes widening when Harry looks at her with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

"I wasn't laughing." She immediately denies, blushing when a chuckle rumbles through his chest. He nods his head towards his sister, ignoring her nervous gaze.

"Go find a style of dress you like before you drive me mad."

Daisy doesn't need to be told twice. She scurries around him, crossing the aisle and approaching Gemma. The elder Styles sibling looks up when she senses company, smiling kindly.

"No luck?" She asks, frowning when Daisy shakes her head.

"Harry told me to look through the book to find a style I like."

Gemma quickly flips to a page near the front before handing Daisy the book. It's a page of different sketches, all showing the basic outline of styles. "I figured since you couldn't find anything you could just pick an outline and build from there."

Daisy smiles, realizing that Gemma and Harry think alike. She looks over the designs, not really enjoying the ones pictured. She supposes the princess cut is nice, but still too plain. How is she supposed to look ethereal in that? It won't take anyone's breath away, won't make them all stare in awe, and probably won't even impress Harry.

"There's more on the next page." Gemma tells her, picking up on her pout. Another similarity between her and Harry. Daisy's chest tightens, realizing that she's actually starting to get to know Harry, enough to pick out habits he shares with his sister. Ignoring the fluttering inside her, she flips to the other page. Immediately, her breath is taken away.

A beautiful drawing of flowing gown, layers of fabric fluffing out at the legs while the top is still on the tighter side of things. It's perfect, and it'll be even more amazing if she can get one with a train in the back. Daisy's eyes fall on the name of the style: Basque.

"This ones wonderful." She says quietly to Gemma, biting her lip in excitement as she shows her the page. Gemma's smile widens, nodding happily.

"Oh thank goodness," she breathes with relief, "I loved that one too but I didn't want to pressure you or anything."

Daisy peeks up at Harry, cheeks warming when she sees him instructing their mother's to put the gowns back. Even when Anne gives him that motherly glare, the one that says 'I know best!' Harry still shoos her away.

"There were no dresses here like this." Daisy says sadly, returning her gaze to Gemma. Ever the Styles, she takes Daisy's hand and pulls her towards the counter where Mrs. Fields is organizing dresses for pick-up.

"Excuse me," Gemma calls to her, holding a hand out for the book. Daisy easily hands it over. "my sister-in-law really likes this style of dress but we've yet to find one in the store. Do you have any in the back?"

Mrs. Fields adjusts her glasses on her nose, looking at the page being displayed to her. "Oh a basque gown! We only have a few simple ones, but of course we can make adjustments and add the details you like."

Daisy's smile grows, excited that she's found a dress she'll actually love. Seeing her beaming smile, Gemma nods. "Could we perhaps try one on?"

Mrs. Fields nods, hurrying through the door into the back. The sound of hangers scraping on rods fills the air, and Daisy smiles gratefully at Gemma. "Thank you, I appreciate you helping me."

Gemma smiles bashfully, waving off the compliment. "I would never leave you to pick out a dress with Harold. He's so impatient and grumpy when it comes to things like this. And he's got terrible taste."

They both giggle at that, y/n thinking of the numerous articles of clothing she's seen him in. Maybe it's just because he's so handsome he pulls everything off, but she can't think of an outfit of his that she doesn't like. Shyly, she shrugs. "I like his style."

Mrs. Fields is back before Gemma can respond, but her smirk still makes Daisy blush. "Here we are!" Mrs. Fields lays out three dresses on the counter, smiling brightly. "These are what we've got. Try them all on and let me know which one you like best, and what you'd like added or changed!"

Gemma thanks her again, her and Daisy grabbing the three dresses and heading towards the dressing rooms. Harry spots them, brow furrowing when he sees her carrying a dress. "What did ya find?"

"A dress," Daisy says cutely, hugging the fabric closer to her body. "m'gonna try them on, and then let Mrs. Fields know how I feel."

Anne and Meredith perk up at that, rushing over to look at the gowns. Gemma brushes them off, telling them to wait for the dressing room. Harry observes Daisy for a moment, searching her face as if he's looking for a falter in her excitement or a hint that she's lying. When he finds none, he nods. "Then let's go."

"Oh no mister!" Anne exclaims, stepping in front of Harry before he can move to the changing room. "You're the groom! Have some manners and wait out here."

Harry's huffs, looking over his shoulder at Daisy for help, but she's not going to say anything to go against Anne. She really doesn't want her mother-in-law thinking she's disrespectful. Seeing her hesitant gaze, Harry grumbles under his breath and moves to sit on the chairs lined up by the door.

Gemma teasingly winks at her brother as she enters the room, Meredith ushering Daisy in before her and Anne follow. Gemma hangs the three dresses behind the changing screen, then takes a seat on the bench with the mothers. Daisy disappears behind the light blue screen, unbuttoning her top and shimmying out of her skirt. The first dress is pearl white and made of silk, with sleeves of lace. It's pretty but Daisy doesn't really want sleeves so she moves to the next one.

Funnily, it's a daisy white, made of charmeuse with layers of tulle on the skirt making it flow out elegantly. The back drops a little lower than the front, making a small but cute train. Biting her lip, Daisy slips the dress on, leaving the zipper down since she can't reach the back.

"How is it Daisy?" Her mother calls out, prompting her to step out into view. The mirror on the other side of the room reflects her back, taking her breath away. The top half highlights her figure, billowing out at her hips but staying loose enough that's it impossible to see just how thick her thighs are. The neckline is a little low, the top of her cleavage peeking out cheekily and thin straps on her shoulders.

"You look wonderful!" Meredith cries, rushing to her feet to circle her daughter. Daisy smiles bashfully, ruffling the skirt a bit as her mother does the zip. Anne, who's eyes are suddenly filled with tears, holds a hand over her heart.

"You're stunning Daisy!"

Her cheeks grow hotter, but she can't help but agree. Other than the neckline and straps, the dress is absolutely perfect.

"I think this is the one." Daisy tells Gemma in response to her raised eyebrow. Gemma nods, pleased with Daisy's confidence in her choice. She wants to ask Mrs. Fields if they can alter the top a bit, and maybe add some color to it somehow, but she can't help but want to hear what Harry thinks. It seems like their mother's are willing to go along with whatever she says, but she wants another opinion. One that's not her own.

"Can you all take the other two dresses back and bring Mrs. Fields with you?" Daisy requests innocently, smiling doe-ishly at her mother. Eager to please, she goes to fetch the other dresses with Anne. Gemma's looking her up and down suspiciously, that knowing smirk on her face again.

"Gemma-"

"I'll keep them distracted for a bit. Maybe pick out a veil or two with Mrs. Fields."

Daisy doesn't get to thank her before Anne and Meredith are back with the other dresses. "Come on then!" Anne says, grabbing Gemma's hand and pulling her to the door. Daisy waits for their footsteps to fade before rushing over and peeking her head out. Harry's sitting on the chair, still waiting, arms over his chest and disgruntled gaze set on his retreating mother.

"Psst, Harry!" Daisy whispers harshly, waving a hand at him when he looks up, wide-eyed. "Come in, quickly."

Harry's on his feet immediately, following her into the room and closing the door. It's not until they're in the center of the room does she look at him, and the sight makes her lightheaded.

His lips parted, eyes wide as they slowly drag over her figure. Somehow, she notices his fingers twitch at his sides before they disappear behind his back. Daisy's lips curl bashfully, thinking that maybe he had wanted to reach out and hold her. "What do you think?"

Green eyes snap up to her, a bit dazed as he clamps his mouth shut. "Do you love it?" He asks tightly, the only hint of approval coming from the gleam in his gaze.

"I like it," Daisy admits, "but I want to change the neckline and maybe add color. What do you think?"

Her answers seems good enough for Harry, because he slowly walks a circle around her. His fingers gently run over the straps on her shoulders, fingertips barely brushing her skin but making goosebumps rise. "Could lower 'em," he suggests thoughtfully, carefully pulling the strap down until it rests on her bicep, "so they sit there, maybe add some ruffles or something along the top."

Daisy looks back in the mirror, imagining the top covered in ruffled fabric, covering most of her exposed chest but leaving enough out to be enticing. And the straps on her arms would be beautiful, leaving her collarbones and neck open enough for her to wear a necklace. "I love it." She finally breaths, looking back at him. He's looking at the skirt of the dress, pitching his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger.

"How about flowers?" He finally asks, looking at her through his thick eyelashes. "Could have little ones embroidered at the bottom, add a bit of color for you?"

She can't help but smile at him, grateful for his help. She knew he'd be able to help, to come up with ideas that would really make her love it. And now, judging by the way he looked at her when he walked in, she knows he's likes the way it looks.

"Yeah," Daisy agrees, "I think Lily Iris would look nice. Maybe in a light pink?" The same pink as the bedroom, she thinks to herself, unable to look away from him when two dimples sink into his cheeks.

"S'perfect." Harry agrees, eyes fluttering over her one more time. "You'll look like a dream-well, you already do, but even more so."

"Thank you," she murmurs, "any chance I can get you into a light pink tux?"

His smile falls when she giggles. "Don't push it Daisy."

Daisy didn't know what to expect when Harry had come knocking on her door after lunch, telling her to be ready to go out for dinner at 7. She thought maybe it was a business dinner or they were meeting up with his uncle to update him on the wedding plans. After the boat situation, Harry had told Mr. Styles he'd be taking over planning everything, which wasn't good for her already melting heart. Fully prepared to tell Mr. Styles about the design for her dress and hoping he wouldn't hate it, Daisy's speechless when Harry pulls up next to the neighborhood park and stops the car.

"Harry, this is the park." She says dumbly, and he chuckles.

"Good to know your eyes work Daisy." She pouts, confused as to why they're at the park and hurt that he's teasing her, while he just climbs out of the car. He moves around the front to her door, pulling it open and holding out a hand to help her out. Before she can overthink it, she lays her fingers in his warm palm, shivering when he closes his digits around hers.

"Why are we at the park?"

Harry doesn't release her hand as he guides her off the sidewalk and into the grass. A few groups are still running around the grass, little boys kicking a ball around and girls laying in the grass to look up at the sky while their guardians watch from the nearby benches.

"Know you enjoy sitting in the grass in the backyard, and I thought maybe you'd like to have dinner here instead." Harry says nonchalantly, tilting his head up to look at the sky before his eyes continue to dart around the area. He's nervous, she realizes giddily, but for what?

They cross the little wooden bridge with the creak underneath it, Daisy's jaw dropping as the grass comes back into view. A thick flannel blanket has been laid out, a wicker basket laid on top of it next to a tray with two thin candles resting on it. "Is that for us?" She asks, even though Harry's obviously pulling her towards the set up.

"Yeah," he nods, "thought it's about time I take you out for our first date."

Daisy thinks she could cry. He was nervous because he set up a date for her. Harry, who almost killed her once and would tease her for every little thing, went out of his way to set up a romantic dinner for her when he didn't have to.

"You didn't have to-"

"I know," Harry interrupts, "but I wanted to. Know I'm not exactly the man you wanted to marry and yet you've still been an angel about it-with a few nagging moments-" Daisy rolls her eyes, not too offended when she sees the dimples in his cheeks, "so I wanted to show you that I can be a good husband."

Before she can even think about what she's doing or how it could change their relationship, Daisy's stepping into his chest and slinging her arms around his neck. Harry stumbles, but his arms loop around her waist and his hands rest warmly on her back. It's not the first time they've held each other like this, but there's a big difference in dancing at their engagement party with everyone watching and clinging to each other in the middle of the park while on a date. Stupidly, Daisy can't help but think that maybe Harry's courting her, putting in effort because he actually has feelings for her. It's a nice thought, until she remembers that she's not even sure if she has feelings for him.

"As long as you keep me away from open water, you'll be the best husband." Harry laughs at her words, and his fingers hesitantly trail up her spine.

"What if I teach you to swim?" He ask lowly, and she shivers pleasantly. "Got a boat at the docks, can't take it out by myself."

Daisy pulls back enough to look at him. She can't tell if he's teasing or not, but by the softness of his gaze she doesn't think he is. You don't know him, she reminds herself, you wouldn't know if he's sincere or not.

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "I am not getting on another boat for you Harry Styles."

His smirk is teasing and charming. "We'll see about that Daisy Withers."

Daisy's got the flannel blanket wrapped around her shoulders, tummy full from the dinner Harry made them when he stops her with a gentle grip on her elbow. "Need to tell you something," he murmurs, lowering the picnic basket to the ground. The car's in sight, only a few feet away and she wonders why he's chosen now to stop her.

"Okay," she nods, hands fiddling with the blanket. Harry looks more somber than he has all night, eyebrows pinched and lips in a thin line.

"I got a letter today," he sighs, running his fingers through his curly hair and dropping his gaze to their feet. "registering me for the British Expeditionary Force."

Daisy's heart lodges itself in her throat, thumping so harshly she can feel it beating behind her eyes. It takes her a moment to find her voice, swallowing thickly. "A-and?"

Harry finally looks up at her, frown deepening. "I ship out to France in two weeks for training."

The tightness in her throat let's up. "France?"

"Allied with us. I train there and then wait for assignment."

Germany is not fighting in France, she assures herself, willing her shoulders to relax. He's not stepping right into a battle zone, now storming Poland or whatever other area Hitler's desecrating. He'll be safe, at least for a little while. "Okay," Daisy finally whispers, not exactly knowing what else to say, but that's okay because Harry does.

"Before I go, I want us to be married." He doesn't give her a chance to voice her questions, somehow knowing them already. "Not the wedding ceremony, but the certificate. If anything happens here, happens to me, you'll be safe with my last name."

She doesn't want to think about what he's implying. If he's hurt, captured, killed. If Germany somehow stomps over the British soldiers like rats and invades Great Britain, she'll need an important name like Styles to keep her and her family out of labor camps.

"Do you... think I'll need it?" It's not exactly what she wanted to ask. She wanted to know if he had faith in himself and his country, or if he really thought this would be it. Daisy feels sick thinking about the next two weeks being her last days with Harry, and she guesses that thought really shows how she's feels about Harry now. A month ago she wouldn't want two seconds with Harry, and now two weeks are not enough.

His hands reach up to cup her face, tilting her chin up to look at him. He looks more sure of himself now, that same privileged and prideful aura surrounding him. "No I don't, but I'd like to leave knowing I've got a wife waiting for me."

Maybe she's in shock, or maybe she's hysterical from not only realizing that she likes Harry but that he's now leaving too, but the mesmerized way his lips form the title wife make her tip toe, hands dropping the blanket and hooking into his suspenders, and she presses her lips to his.

Daisy's never been kissed on the lips before, only ever receiving pecks on her cheeks or hands, and she never really thought Harry would be the first man she kisses, but the when he holds her face softly and presses his full lips against hers, she can't imagine kissing anyone else.

"Don't think it's proper to be kissing on first dates Daisy." Harry mutters when they break away, blinking his eyes open. For some reason he looks bigger, broader and taller as he towers over her with a cocky smirk on his face. He's still holding her face, pushing a stray piece her hair behind her ear.

"Maybe not," she breathes, "but I think it's proper to be kissing my husband on our first date."

Harry shakes his head, shoulders bouncing with deep chuckles. "Sometimes I really hate you," he says with no bite, and then he's kissing her again.

Sometimes she hates Harry Styles too.

"It's really sweet that he's doing this." Summer murmurs, pinning a strand of Daisy's hair away from her face. She refused to give up flowers on her wedding day, settling for having it braided across the top of her head with flowers woven in.

"I know," Daisy mumbles, gnawing on her bottom lip. The bathroom is empty aside from the two girls, and she's glad for it. Today is a day for her, Harry, and their closest friends. No family, they'd agree that night they got home after deciding to marry as soon as possible. They'd get their big ceremony, but this is for them. Not forced, not bargained, but wanted.

"Are you scared?"

She shakes her head immediately. Summer finishes her hair, and Daisy smiles at her reflection. She decided to wear the dress Harry hates, the one that's a tiny bit shorter than the others but fits her figure well. The color isn't the prettiest, but she always liked how naturally pretty it makes her feel. And she wanted to spite him a bit, since he's yet to explain why he hated her so much before they moved in together. She can't help but smile imagining the way he'll frown at her outfit when he sees it.

"I think I have feelings for him Summer."

Unfazed, her best friend smiles. "I've known Daisy. I thought so after that night on the boat, and then hearing you two yell at each other at dinner confirmed it."

Daisy gawks, cheeks heating up. "You didn't think to tell me?"

Summer giggles, moving to the mirror to fix her own dirty blonde hair. "I couldn't tell you. You hated him, and me trying to force your feelings only would've pushed you further."

She feels a bit stupid as Summer smiles innocently at her through the mirror. It was obvious? She liked Harry before even knowing it herself. Could he tell? Could everyone tell?

"I think his sister might be the only other one who knows." Summer tells her, reading the look on her face.

"Gemma?"

"Yeah. She was giving him funny looks that night on the boat too."

That explains the way she kept smirking and teasing her and Harry when they were shopping. She knew all along too, and in that famous Styles way, she was enjoying having the upper-hand.

"That's not bad then." Daisy finally sighs, watching Summer finish up. They're only a few minutes late when they leave the restroom of the courthouse, immediately spotting Harry pacing outside the door of the judges quarters. He's brought his best friend as well, an Irish man named Niall that Daisy faintly recalls meeting on the boat.

The sound of the door shutting draws Harry's attention to them, head snapping up with wide eyes as he looks at her. He looks handsome, as always, in a pin striped penguin suit, fabric tight on his chest and shoulders. His hair has been greased enough it falls in messy waves instead of curls, except at his neck where the rouge strands have still coiled.

"Showing up late to your own wedding." Harry chastises, reaching out for her hand. She takes it, hand feeling dainty in his calloused ones.

"Had to make sure I look good enough for the family name." She retorts, smiling widely when his eyes flicker down to her dress. His jaw ticks, lips purse as he exhales harshly through his nose. Bouncing in her flats, she eagerly awaits his complaint.

He leans in closer to her ear, breath hot on her skin. "Don't think I could let you around my family in a little number like that Daisy."

Oh, she falters, not expecting the headiness in his tone. Was that attraction in his voice? The dress he's always loved to insult now making his breath heavy and intoxicating in her ear. She doesn't get a chance to think about it before the judge is opening his door and welcoming the foursome in.

"Well Mr. Styles, I've got the certificate ready to be signed and the contract ensuring that not a word of this will be spoken to anyone outside this room aside from those in charge of your assets." The judge says in greeting, moving back to the chair behind his desk. Niall shuts the door behind them, taking his place at Harry's side.

"Thank you Mr. Colsett." Harry says deeply, and Daisy's eyes widen at the tone. She's never heard Harry speak like that, all formal and business like. She hates how attractive the rumble of it is, subconsciously squeezing his hand as her and Summer share impressed looks. If Harry notices her odd behavior, he doesn't say so.

"Would you like me to go through the whole ceremony or will we just be signing?"

Harry swallows thickly, holding a finger up to Mr. Colsett before turning to Daisy. "There's a lot I've got to say to you, a lot to explain, but I'd like to save that for a better time."

He's still speaking in that powerful tone, and she feels mushy as she just nods in agreement. She's sort of glad that they'll just be signing, because she still needs time to figure out everything she needs to tell him too. And she doesn't want it happening in front of two strangers and her nosey best friend.

"We'll just be signing then."

A pen is handed to Harry, and he doesn't release her hand as he leans over the desk to sign the certificate. Daisy does the same, writing a little sloppy without having her other hand to stabilize the paper, but she doesn't want to let him go either. Summer winks cheekily at her as she signs the witness line, and Niall pats Harry on the back as he signs as well.

"Excellent," Mr. Colsett grunts, moving the certificate over to make copies, "I now you pronounce you husband and wife."

Summer and Niall both cheer at that, Summer pressing a kiss to her cheek as Niall does a silly jig that makes Harry laugh. He pulls Daisy's gaze away from Niall with a hand on her face, much like the night of their first date. "Am I allowed to kiss you or do I have to wait for the ceremony?"

"It's not a real marriage if it's not sealed with a kiss Mr. Styles."

Harry's smirk deepens. "We can't have that can we Mrs. Styles?" he replies, teasingly, cutting off her laugh with a kiss. She releases his hand, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling him closer to her. They've only got one week left, and she intends on keeping him as close as possible.

The week leading up to Harry's departure goes too fast for Daisy's liking. One would think that spending hours sitting in the living room and just staring at him would feel like years, but to Daisy it feels like minutes. As the seconds tick away, so does her sanity, and she slowly feels like she's turning into a ticking time bomb. No matter how many walks they go on, how many meals they make together, or how many times she's attempts at teaching him to crochet, it's not enough. And now she's having to split him with Anne and Gemma, and as selfish as it sounds, she doesn't want to. They've had their whole lives with him and she only gets a couple months? How's that fair?

By the time his final night rolls around, just the sight of him makes her tremble with tears. He's good at hiding any anxieties or second thoughts he might have, because the only difference she can spot in his behavior is the way he treats her now. A kiss every morning when they meet in the kitchen, holding her hand when they listen to the radio or ride in his car. And even though they don't act like a married couple in front of family, the dinner with everyone goes a lot smoother than the first one.

This time Daisy sits by him, holding his hand under the table as her father and Mr. Styles passionately complain about being too old to fight in the war, through everyone knows they're both happy with sending off their sons. Sterling isn't due to ship out for another week, and the thought of having to say goodbye to him too is crushing.

Anne and Meredith continue to discuss the wedding as if there's no war and they'll still be walking down the aisle in May when everyone knows Harry will most likely still be on the battlefield at the time. Even Kitty has picked up on the odd behavior, and much to Harry's liking, is more worried about him then her own brother. She avidly asks Harry about the 'trip' he's going on, pestering on why he can't take her and Daisy along but Harry tells her it's for the bad side of business and he doesn't want the girls seeing that side. Kitty accepts the excuse, only after Harry seals it with a kiss on her little forehead. She's afraid that action alone might give them away, but the only one who looks at him oddly is Sterling. The constant back of forth of talking about the war and then ignoring it the next minute makes her dizzy, and she's happy to send everyone off with quick hugs.

The house is silent behind them, Harry and Daisy hovering in the dining room with somber looks. She's sure he can feel her fright, and it's proven true when he wraps two strong arms around her. "What's going on in that head of yours Daisy?"

She clings to his neck, eyes watering and throat tightening. "Can I sleep in your bedroom tonight?" Her voice wavers pathetically, and his hold on her grows stronger.

"Of course you can."

They part long enough for Daisy to go change and wash up for bed, letting her hair out of its twist and rinsing off her makeup. Harry's waiting for her on the staircase, still in his button up and trousers, pinching at his bottom lip as he stares at the floorboards. It's the first time she's seen even a hint of nervousness from him, and the sight makes her lip wobble with emotion.

"Ready?" He asks, rising from the stair. He holds his hand out for her, leading her up to his room as if it's her first time being there. They pass the mysterious bedroom, Daisy tempted to ask about it again just so they have something to talk about, but she doesn't want to anger him on their last night.

His bed is made neatly, the blanket from their picnic thrown over the comforter and pillows. Harry flicks on the lamp by the bed, casting the room in a soft glow. Daisy sits on edge of the bed as he moves about, closing the curtains and digging around in his dresser for pajamas. She's left in silence when he enters his restroom to change, and she peels back the sheets on his bed. Not sure what side he sleeps on, she settles for sitting right in the middle of the bed.

Harry tosses his clothes in heap by the closet door, kneeing his way to the right side of the bed. Daisy slides over, slipping her legs under the blankets and falling back into the plush pillows. He does the same, puffing out a sigh and pushing his hair off his forehead. They're silent for a moment, staring up at the ceiling while Daisy thinks about how nice his sheets smell.

"You don't have to be so far away." Harry whispers, and Daisy looks over to find him already watching her. She doesn't say anything back, but the sheets rustle loudly as she slides over to him. To her surprise, Harry lays his arm out so she can cozy up by his side. She lays her head on his chest, and his hand finds her shoulder, gripping it softly. Once again they're silent, Daisy chewing on her bottom lip. She wants to talk to him, wants him to make her feel better, but she can't think of what to say.

"Are you scared?"

Harry hums, fingers slowly trailing down her arm. "Not yet. S'just training."

"For now."

"I don't know what comes after, but whatever it is, I can handle it."

She fiddles with the buttons on his pajama shirt. "How do you know?"

"Because I've handled you just fine for the past few months." He jokes, and her lips fall into a frown.

"If any of us are difficult, it's you. You're always so mean."

Harry doesn't respond for a moment, but he keeps stroking up and down her arm. "I know," he finally admits, and Daisy's glad she finally told him something. Maybe now he'll talk to her, explain what happened all those years ago that made him treat her so terribly. "and I'm sorry. S'hard for me to figure out how to act around you."

The button she was playing with accidentally slips undone, and she blushes as she fastens it again. "Why?"

"Was raised by my uncle, and he's the meanest old bastard I've ever met. S'hard to change old habits." Harry's hand slips up into her hair, massaging near her scalp and she melts further into his warm chest.

"What happened?"

"When?" Harry mumbles, sounding like he might be on the verge of sleep too. Daisy doesn't want to risk moving to look at his face in fear that she might ruin the safe little moment they've built.

"That night at your uncle's, and everything after that made it so hard for you to be around me."

He shifts under her, not really moving from the position he was in before and Daisy wonders if he's uncomfortable or nervous. She kind of hopes he is, as pay back for all the times he's made her feel that way.

"Don't wanna tell you that tonight," Harry finally says, and then the light in the room flickers out. Daisy rolls her eyes at his stubbornness. "I will, but not tonight."

"Why not?" She wants him, or at least something from him. Something to validate her feelings for him. Of course, he gives nothing but teases.

"If I tell you everything tonight, it'll be like a goodbye, like m'not coming back. I don't want that. Want you to believe I'm coming back because I am." Faintly, she thinks he might press a kiss to the top of her head. "This isn't goodbye forever Daisy. I promise."

Good, she thinks, wrapping her arm around his waist, because if there's one thing she's learned about Harry, it's that his word is always good.

Harry looks handsome in his uniform, Daisy realizes mournfully, ignoring the other men around them that are bidding their families and friends goodbye. She'd send a million more men overseas if it meant Harry got to stay with her. But she can't, she reminds herself, pouting as she watches him hug Anne. His mother looks small in his hold, safe and protected. She hopes she looks like that in his arms too.

Anne's crying when Harry moves down the line to Gemma, kissing his sister's cheek tenderly and engulfing her in the same tight hug he'd given his mother. Like her brother, Gemma stays strong, whispering something in his ear that Daisy can't hear, with tears brimming her eyes but not daring to fall. Daisy feels pathetic when he steps in front of her, thick bulky uniform somehow still looking good on him.

"Promise me you're not going to worry too much." Harry requests, dropping his bag to the ground. His fingers find her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Promise not to give me anything to worry about."

His lips quirk up in an amused grin. "I promise." Daisy likes when he promises things, it makes everything feel a little more stable. The train behind him puffs out a cloud of smoke, pulling a rush of passengers on. Harry doesn't move aside from digging his hand into his coat pocket.

"S'not very pretty," he says quietly, holding up a silver chain with a plain silver band dangling from it. "but it's my favorite ring." He slips the chain over her head, somehow not even catching it on her nose or her hair

"Why are you giving this to me?"

He shrugs, but his eyes dart down to her bare left hand and he gently grabs it in his right one. "Give me something to come back for." She can tell he doesn't mean just the ring, he means his wife. She squeezes his hand.

"I don't want you to go," she finally admits for the first time, and maybe this was a bad time to say it, but she couldn't hold it in anymore. "I'm just starting to like you and now I have to send you off."

Harry chuckles, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest. She wants him to kiss her but she knows he won't. They agreed to be subtle in front of his family. "Time apart makes the heart grow fonder or some shit like that."

Daisy giggles at his ability to somehow be stupid but romantic at the same time, wrapping her other arm around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Think it might be dangerous to grow any fonder of you."

"I used to think the same thing." Harry mumbles in her ear, and her throat tightens when the train let's out a warning whistle. It's the final boarding call.

Reluctantly, he pulls back from her, smiling at her watery eyes. "Look at you, crying because of me again."

Daisy lightly shoves him, not causing any harm with how sturdy he is. He heaves his bag back up on his shoulder, smiling bitterly at the three girls waiting for him. "Take care of each other yeah? Don't rely that other jackass, he's useless." She grins, knowing he means his uncle. She hates Thomas Styles, and Harry feeling the same way obviously proves something for his character.

"We will Harry." Anne promises, "Now you go out there and be a hero okay?"

Harry chuckles at that, some hidden sentiment in the words, and with one longing gaze at Daisy, he turns and boards the train. The platform is empty of soldiers now, but she can pick out Harry walking down the aisle of the train. She watches him, heart thumping loudly and before she can register what she's doing, she's leaping onto the rails surrounding the train.

"Harry wait!" Daisy calls, catching him between cars. His head snaps to her, eyes wide and confused. She leans over to be closer to him, waving her hand from him to do the same. "Please?"

Harry drops his bag again, gripping the edge of the doorway as he leans as far forward as possible. Behind her, someone grabs the edge of her shirt, keeping her from falling. Gripping the back of his neck, she pulls his mouth onto hers.

"Daisy-" he mumbles, caught off guard with the sudden kiss. She ignores him, and the impressed whistles coming from the men on the train, pressing her mouth more firmly against his. She doesn't care that Anne and Gemma are watching, because all she cares about is Harry.

They separate, Harry licking over his lips and grinning boyishly at her. Cheeks flaming, she pushes his hair off his forehead. "I don't care if your a war hero or not, just come back in one piece okay?"

He swallows thickly, nodding. "I promise," he swears, managing to peck her mouth one last time before the train lurches forward, chugging as it pulls away. Harry stays hanging out of the doorway, watching her stand on the rails with a hand clutching the ring around her neck and tears in her eyes, until the locomotive carries him around the building and out of sight.

#dear daisy #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #ww2 harry #soldier harry #1930s harry #arranged marriage au

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jiwonscologne · 4 years

Text

Love is a Triangle

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - ?Part 5?

Pairing: Double B x Reader

Genre: Angst, slight fluff, smut suggestion

Warning: swearing, mentions of cheating

We decided to visit a little fair on their day off. It was a Thursday and the weather was very pleasing, not too hot and not too cold, just on point. Hanbin won two plushies for me and when Jiwon saw that he was so good at those shooting and hitting games, he got competitive and started to play too, which was extremely funny because I watched him get cocky because of our boyfriend and I won one more plushie. We stopped by a food truck on our way out of the marketplace. Hanbin ordered for all of us, and mine and his order were made first. We both got out of the line since there were a lot of people around the truck, and we waited for Jiwon. When he was about to come in our direction, a girl approached him and he widened his eyes and parted his lips, static. I couldn’t hear anything but I didn’t like the way she was smiling nor the way he was reacting to her words. I knew right away that wasn’t a fan. Hanbin saw it too and he widened his eyes just like Jiwon did when he saw her. I am right, they know her.

- Who is she? - I look at Hanbin.

- That’s...Myung-Hee. His first love. - His answer hit like a needle on my chest. Not just what he said, the way he said it concerned me the most. I’m worried since I’ve heard her name before from his mouth, when he told me how Jiwon had such a hard time on forgetting about her. We talked about brief moments on the ‘first love topic’ and everyone knows our first love is the one who stays in your heart forever, the one you can’t erase because it’s our first experience with love itself, which makes it so special. It’s normal but if the ending is bad...that stays, and stinks. Jiwon had that bad luck.

- What is she doing here? - I ask, innocently and with a firm, slightly threatening voice.

- Why don’t you ask him? - Hanbin smiles poorly at Jiwon finding our way back to us with a rushed pace.

- Hey. Here’s my food. - He smiles, raising his fish cake, and we start walking to go home.

I want to talk, even though I’m waiting for him to speak without making me ask. Hanbin and I create a suffocating silence and he finally breaks it. - I know you saw it. - He looks at us but we limit ourselves by watching our steps. - And I’m shocked like you. She’s...I don’t know why she’s here, I thought she was living in Australia. I didn’t even know what to say to her when I saw her.

- But, she did know what to say to you. - I insinuate.

- Yeah...

- What did she say? - Hanbin faces him.

- She asked how I was doing and she told me sometimes she checks on me when I’m trending on social media.

I nod. I feel so powerless. I know he’s going to think about her the rest of the week now. I know I’m going to, too. Why did she appear again? Why did she talk to him? Doesn’t she understand how much she hurt him back then? It’s unbelievable how we forget about someone and they come back to remind us.

Jiwon told us how she had to check that it was him before she approached him since “he changed so much” after six years. I mean, duh, what did she expect? Hanbin asked how he was feeling after seeing her and Jiwon answered he was nostalgic and surprised.

I had some questions myself, yet I kept quiet until we got home and had some privacy.

- Summer, you’ve been silent all the way home. Are you okay? - Jiwon anticipates.

- The reason you broke up… - I want to complete my sentence however he does it for me.

- Was because I loved her more than she loved me. I told you that.

- Yes, although...did she cheat on you with the other guy?

- The other guy she started dating after me?

- Yes.

- You know...I wasted two years of my life asking me all kinds of questions about our relationship. Like you right now, I didn’t understand what she said to me. When she was breaking up with me, she told me and I quote “...my love for you has faded. I can tell you still love me and I could always tell that you’ve always loved me more than I loved you. And I once told you that your expectations were too high to see the truth. I told you that I wasn’t who you saw but eventually you convinced me to love you, but that’s over now.” With this, you can go on various paths of thoughts. I thought she was cheating on me too, but maybe she wasn’t. She was right, I was blind on my love for her. I ignored all the times she could’ve supported me and she chose not to. I loved her with everything I had and it was clearly a mistake because she didn’t do the same for me.

- Ji… - I hug him and he chuckles.

- It’s okay, it happens. I was young, it’s water under the bridge.

- Is it? - Hanbin asks.

- Yes. I love you now, the past doesn’t matter. This made me find you guys and I’m grateful for that.

- I love you. You know that we love you equally, right? - I make sure he hears it.

- Yes, bae. I never doubted you. - That answer made me instantly in a better mood.

- Now that we’re done with this conversation, Chanwoo invited us to go bowling tonight. - Hanbin takes his phone out of the pocket. - What do I answer?

- Tell him no! - Jiwon startles me with the exclamation.

- Why? - I raise my eyebrow.

- This is our first day-off in months and he wants to hang out like we don’t see him everyday? - Jiwon rolls his eyes.

- Babe, that’s kind of harsh. Don’t you think? - Hanbin says, surprised by his comment. - Besides, it’s with Jinhwan and Junhoe, too.

- It’s not harsh, I’m just saying I’d prefer to be with my partners today.

- Okay, that’s fine. - I say. I give Hanbin a look to leave Jiwon alone for a little bit.

- Alright, I’ll tell him we can’t go. - Hanbin texts Chanwoo and goes to our bedroom.

He said he’s fine but he’s clearly affected by meeting her again. I don’t blame him, he knows that we’re here for him. I just wish she hadn’t shown up on our lives.

- I have to stop by the broadcasting station to do something. See you later.

- What? I thought we would spend the whole day together. - Jiwon turns to me.

- We still have many hours left when I get back. We can eat dinner and watch a movie after I finish it.

- Hm, okay, but give me a kiss before you go. - I lean at him on the couch to reach his lips. - Hanbin I’m gonna head out! - I scream. He comes running to the hall, now with his sweatpants instead of his jeans.

- What? You’re leaving?

- I need to do some work, I’ll be back before dinner.

- No… - He says lowly.

- Bye baby. - I kiss him and get out.

I choose to drive myself to work instead of calling our driver. It will take less time and I just want to finish it as soon as possible.

Fortunately I had to do this, because after I saw her, she’s the only thing in my mind and I have to distract myself, otherwise I’ll go crazy. The way this is affecting Jiwon is worrying me: Answering without thinking and then being clingy with us. It’s like he’s frustrated with others but trying to compensate it with giving us attention. It’s probably his manner to tell us we have nothing to worry about and that he loves us so we don’t need to be jealous. It won’t work, but at least it’s kind of cute to see how he cares about our feelings. He’s so selfless sometimes…

I finish everything in time for dinner. When I get home, Jiwon is cooking and Hanbin is setting the table.

- Welcome home! - They greet me.

- It smells good. - I direct myself to the kitchen.

- It’s done, let’s eat. - Jiwon turns the stove off and takes the two pans to the table.

- Did you do a broadcast today? We didn’t turn the radio on. - Hanbin grabs a full spoon of kimchi rice.

- You know I don’t talk in them, I just prepare the songs.

- I know, but I like to see everything that you do.

- You’re so lame sometimes. - I laugh.

- I’m in love. - He’s right. Hanbin’s first loves are me and Jiwon. He says things like these because he never said it to someone before, he never experienced this, it’s a fresh love, a new emotion to him. Sometimes that scares me.

The rest of the week passes by smoothly. iKON is preparing for their comeback and I’m working harder since a lot of people on my job are on vacation so I have to broadcast full night sessions because no one will be there to entertain the listeners with conversation.

I’m grabbing my coffee after work, which means it’s 6:45 pm. I stop by a newsstand to see if it has the monthly magazine that I read yet, since it’s the beginning of the month, but instead, I read something that catches me by surprise. I have to check it three times before I believe it. I look at the picture, yet my heart is telling me it’s not true. As soon as I notice the owner of the place is about to recognize me, I cover my face and walk away in a fast pace.

9:43 am

- Bobby, you have to be careful. I’m warning you, I don’t want something like this to happen again. Don’t make yourself frowned upon, you’re a good guy. - The YG CEO says.

- Yes, I’m sorry, sir. I won’t. - Jiwon leaves the office and goes back to the room where the iKon members are working at, which is chaotic with loud whispers and hand gestures:

“I don’t know how he thought he wouldn’t get caught.”

Jiwon sees Jinhwan doing a facepalm.

“Shut up now, he’s coming!”

As soon as he enters, the chaos turns to a tense and awkward silence.

When Jiwon looks at Hanbin, he has a death glare on his face that Jiwon only sees when Hanbin is super annoyed. That’s how he knows he messed up. However, he composes himself together. - Okay, let’s get to work. - He joins his hands together and the group prepares themselves.

Donghyuk plays the song so they can practice. The movements are slow at the beginning and there’s no trouble until the song grows and Hanbin goes in front of the mirror to watch them dance.

- Junhoe, keep going. - He says, and after that notices Jiwon isn’t doing it right. - Jiwon, slow down. - He does as told, but then he goes off beat again and his movements don’t match with the rest of the group. - Jiwon. - He calls him out once more.

He sighs and tries again.

- Jiwon, I told you to slow down, can’t you hear the rhythm? - Hanbin’s annoyed.

- I’m sorry. - He apologizes, staring at his feet.

- Do you want to play it again? - Junhoe asks.

- Yes please. - They do and Jiwon is out of focus once again. It’s understandable since he was just scolded at, but Hanbin loses his patience. - I know you’re not listening to the song. Can you try to focus? We’re having trouble because of you.

- I can’t. - Jiwon is static and frustrated.

- You can, we’ve practiced this dance a million times.

- Should I stop playing it? - The song keeps playing and Junhoe sees everyone stopped because of them two.

- No, let’s continue, Jiwon just do it again. - Hanbin seems careless.

- I told you I can’t right now. Please listen to me. - Jiwon’s sad voice is getting strict.

- Guys, maybe we should come back later. - Jinhwan realizes the fight is becoming personal and wants to step back.

- You can’t but you have to, we’re working. - Hanbin keeps his figure.

- Please let me talk to you first.

- We’re practicing, we’re group mates right now, this is not the place to talk, we’ll talk at home. - Hanbin reminds him of their situation. - You’ve been keeping this secret since last week, can’t you wait a little longer? - Hanbin starts to get worked up.

- Look Hanbin, I’m sorry! - He gets closer to him and the boys watch them quietly. - I’m sorry, alright? - He says, loud.

- We should go, come on. - Yunhyeong whispers and they discreetly leave the room.

- Why didn’t you tell us you were having lunch with her? - Hanbin shoots.

- I...didn’t want you to be worried. I knew you would be like this. I knew it!

- Of course I would react like this, she’s your ex! Worse, she’s your first love. You know what that means and I know it too, I’m feeling it right now! - Hanbin yells. - Just tell me what were you thinking when you didn’t tell us you were meeting her again. Tell me how could you make me find out this way. - Hanbin rambles. - I knew something was up yesterday! I knew it! You avoided me and looked the other way all morning and when I asked where you were when lunch time came, nobody knew where you were! They thought you were with Donghyuk but then he appeared so I thought “oh, maybe he forgot something at home”. - Hanbin looks him in the eyes waiting for a regretful answer.

- I didn’t know you were going to find out this way, I didn’t see any paparazzi. I was going to tell you…- Jiwon’s calm and failing voice is irritating Hanbin.

- You were going to tell me when? These people are everywhere so these things happen! They want society to see our flaws! Oh God, Jiwon. - Hanbin starts walking back and forth. - Do you know what I thought this morning when I heard this? I didn’t believe it, I didn’t believe someone could be that dumb, seriously, Donghyuk had to show me the picture so I could see you two were really together. You know you’re on the papers, right? Social media too. I guess you know that, considering the CEO talked to you. - Hanbin looks at him. - Jesus, you realize Summer probably saw it too? She works with the media, Jiwon. On the fucking radio. And if she didn’t see it yet, she will.

- I know...do you think she really saw it? - Jiwon’s guilt is growing and his face is sadder. - She will think I cheated on her...and on you… - Hanbin covers his face, concerned. Jiwon sighs and starts crying. - What do I do…? - Hanbin subtly looks at him.

- Babe you can still call her. Maybe she didn’t see it, I mean, it came to us first because it’s about you. It’s YG’s business.

- But it’s everywhere, like you said, if she didn’t see it, she will. Besides, I don’t want to do this over the phone. - Jiwon runs his fingers through his hair. - Oh God. - He gets up, wondering around, lost.

Someone of the staff knocks on the door to warn them to continue the schedule. Jiwon wipes his tears off.

- We’ll talk better at home. - Hanbin grabs Jiwon’s shoulder.

7:03 pm

I get home, alone, devastated by the news I kept overthinking on the car. The moment I drop my keys in the little plate, I let my body sink in the couch and I wait for them. I turn the TV on but I don’t pay attention to even what channel I’m watching. I limit on calming myself down so when they get here, I don’t seem too upset since I want to understand what Jiwon has to say. About an hour and a few minutes later, I hear the door open and the tinkling of the keys along with some whispers. They get to the living room and I welcome them, getting up off the couch.

- How was your day, baby? - They give me a kiss on a cheek.

- Good. - I answer. - How was yours?

- Wait, you don’t want to specify what you did? - Jiwon says, slightly nervous.

- No, it was a normal day. - I fake my answer. - How was your day?

Hanbin gives Jiwon a look so he can go ahead and tell me. - We...worked! - Jiwon smiles.

- Oh. - I fake a smile.

- Yeah...but Summer, I have to tell you something. - He gulps and takes my hand to sit us down. - Last week, when I saw Myung-Hee, she later on Friday asked me to have lunch with her yesterday...so I did. I just wanted to know how she was doing and maybe be in peace with her on my head. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, I clearly paid for it this morning. Everyone is upset at me on the company and they’re right, I wasn’t careful and I didn’t think.

- “Be in peace with her” ? - Hanbin whispers in an irritated voice.

- I know. You didn’t. - They look at me, confused. - I know everything. - I nod. - I read it on a magazine after work. I didn’t know till I got my coffee. I know what you’re thinking, I don’t usually drink coffee at that time but today I did, and now I wish I didn’t. It’s funny how things work.

- Summer, I’m sorry. I feel so bad, are you upset? - His concerned face surfaces.

- I’m upset you hid this from us. How could you? You lied to us, Jiwon. Let me ask you, if it wasn’t out by the paparazzis, were you going to tell us at all?

- I was. Yesterday. - He looks away.

- Oh really? Because I don’t recall you telling me this yesterday.

- I… - He stutters. - Hanbin was tired and when we got home I couldn’t just…

- So you waited for the magazines to do it for you? - I pop a senseless question.

- I didn’t know there were magazines in the first place!

- Oh then next time, when you meet her again, make sure, yeah? - I cross my arms and I get up, looking to the other side of the room.

- Baby… - Jiwon reaches for me and tries to hug me but I push him away. - I’m not going to meet her again. - He grabs my arms and looks at me.

- Like I could believe you after you lied. - I look away.

- He’s not. - Hanbin finally breaks his silence.

- How do you know? Why are you so quiet? - I start shooting questions against him. - You knew about this, didn’t you? - Hanbin frowns by my question. - You boys always exclude me from everything. Just because I’m not with you all day like you two are.

- Summer, you know that’s not true! And I didn’t know! I found out when the staff asked how I was doing after “the Bobby thing”. I was clueless. I felt exactly like you did but it was this morning! You have to understand I had all day to think about this.

I feel my eyes get watery and it’s not long until tears start running down my cheeks. He’s right, my feelings are more fresh, my anger is building up and I’m being jealous for every little thing I can find.

- Baby. - Jiwon calls me, worried and regretful.

- I’m sorry, Bin. - I wipe my tears. - It was probably harder for you. - I recognize my mistake to judge him. - Could you work today at all? Everyone was probably asking you all sorts of questions or giving you looks. - I get concerned.

- Yes, they were. - Jiwon watches us talk. - But I had to pretend everything was okay so we could keep the schedule going. I admit in the morning we fought, but we’re talking better here with you at home.

- Babes, listen to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you trouble.

- Jiwon you have to understand you didn’t put just you at risk. You put you, me, Summer and iKON. - He enumerates the amount of people with his fingers. - You saw how difficult it was to practice today. I know I said this already but you were so dumb.

- I know. I apologized to the CEO.

- Irresponsible. - He continues. - Just because of her. What did you get from this lunch, besides problems, anyway?

- Yes, what was that “be in peace with her in my head”? - I come back to this. - You assured to us last week that the past didn’t matter, so why did you say this earlier?

- I just wanted to know if I could see her as a friend and not someone who broke my heart for the first time. I know I said the past doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t, but sometimes she comes to my mind and I feel insecure. I feel like the 16 year-old boy that met a pretty girl and fell in love with her, even though she didn’t fell for him.

Hanbin and I stay quiet for moment to take in what we heard.

- Ji, you know you grew up. And you know we love you.

- You’re not a boy. - Hanbin follows my sentences. - You are a wonderful man. I know this because we grew a lot together, I saw you become this confident and handsome person. Don’t make yourself think you’re the same as you were when you met her. You changed, for the best. Forget her. Forget the 16 year-old boy. Trust yourself now, and trust us. Trust that we love you and that you love us, that’s all that matters, nothing else.

Jiwon smiles by Hanbin’s beautiful words. - I’m sorry. I will say it until you both forgive me. I promise I won’t lie to you ever again even if I have the tendency to do it, I won’t hide things from you. I fucked up but I learned my lesson. I hate to see you mad at me.

I pout. - Alright, I forgive you.

Jiwon opens his arms for a hug, hoping we can accept it.

- Me too. - Hanbin hugs him and I join in.

- I hate it when you don’t tell me stuff. - I say, with one of my cheeks buried on Hanbin’s back, making my voice sound more innocent and cute.

- I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel left out. Ever. I love you so much. - Jiwon gives me a kiss on the cheek. - I won’t embarrass you like that again either, Bin. I’m going to apologize to the members tomorrow for delaying our practice. - He sighs. - I feel like a weight just lifted off my shoulders, thank you for forgiving me.

- Okay Jiwon, it’s forgotten, let’s just move on and relax and go to bed.

- You’re already sleepy? - Jiwon asks, suspicious.

- No. - I give him a smile.

Hanbin looks at Jiwon, takes off his shirt and goes after me, walking to our bedroom and I can hear Jiwon rushing himself to catch us before we start.

#kpop poly #ikon polyamory #ikon scenarios #ikon double b #jiwon fluff au #hanbin fluff au #hanbin au #bobby fluff #bobby fluff au #double b #ikon fic #ikon imagine #Bobby au #kpop au #kpop scenarios #ikon au #ikon fluff au #ikon angst

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eternalstann · 5 years

Text

Two Of Us

In which Peter Parker watches over you after a new threat to the avengers emerges. With just the two of you, who knows what could happen.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Sexual References, Eventual Smut, Strong Language

________________________________

"Dad!" You called through the compound. You peeked your head into different rooms looking for your father, he was a hard man to miss, being the God of Thunder and all. "Yes my love" you heard him respond from the kitchen. Finally; sometimes you resented how huge the compound was. "I wanted to eat breakfast with you" you spoke, sitting down at the island next to him. He smiled down at you, pulling you to his side. He loved you more than anything in the world. After losing literally all of his family he cherished you deeply. Your father genuinely was your best friend.

"What do you want to eat?" He asked standing up and walking to fridge. "Hmmm, how about some eggs and bacon" you hummed. You wanted something quick. He was leaving for a mission with the other avengers tonight and you wanted to spend some time with him before he left. Thor hummed in approval at your pick. He was about to say something when Natasha and Steve walked in. "Goodmorning!" They both chirped in unison. "Aww best friend goals!" You laughed, you jumped when another voice joined in laughing with you. It was Peter. You felt proud that you had made him laugh. You weren't afraid to admit that you had a teeny-tiny crush on the boy. How could you not? He was handsome, sweet, funny and extremely smart. Plus he was the only other person your age at the compound, so there's that.

"Ahh, Goodmorning friends. Would you like breakfast?" Your dad offered to the bunch as they all sat down as well. "Sounds great, thanks" Steve replied, flicking on the T.V to watch the news. "Ugh, old man. No one wants to watch the news" Natasha wines grabbing the remote. She was about to change the channel when suddenly static covered the screen before cutting to the image of a masked man sitting with his hands clasped together. You all stopped to look a the strange spectacle on the screen. "This is a message for the avengers. You're time is up. Earth will be reclaimed..." all of you furrowed your brows not believing your eyes.

The man continued on, and Natasha quickly began hooking up equipment you assumed to try and track the source of the signal. The man began naming each avenger individually. "Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, and Tony Stark. Surrender now or lose what you hold dearest. There's no need for children to die" The room went silent as the broadcast cut out. "How the hell did he know about the Kids" Steve wondered aloud. You wanted to interject that actually you were legally considered an adult but you figured now probably wasn't the time.

"Was I hallucinating or did you guys just see that too?" Tony asked walking into the kitchen with you all. "We saw it" Peter spoke, looking over at you. He was trying to gage your reaction. Someone had just threatened your life. "We need to get the kids out of here, I'll take Morgan and Y/N to Clint's until we figure this out" Tony began, already piecing a plan together. "No, we should split them up. They're like sitting ducks if we keep them together" Natasha disagreed. "Clint is home with his children. They should be okay for a little while. I haven't noticed any breeches. Tony you should send Morgan with Pepper as soon as possible, as far away as possible" she continued. The group all nodded in approval.

“Pepper is on vacation with her sister in Guam, even if I send the quinjet it’s going to take at least a day and a half for her to get here” Tony sighed. “And Y/N-” you cut Natasha off before she could finish. “I’m an adult and I can take care of myself, you guys never have any faith in me. I’m stronger than you think” Being the daughter of the God of thunder came with a few perks, like being able to control all weather. Not very well yet but you had a decent handle on it. Enough to fend for yourself in a dangerous situation. “This is not a game” your father spoke, voice low. “Now is not the time to try and prove yourself daughter” his voice a little softer this time.

“Y/N’s got a point, she can hold her own for a day or two. And frankly, the compound might be the safest place for her right now, until we get some sort of lead. She and Morgan can stay here until Pepper gets home, and then we can send them to more secure locations” Tony spoke and you smiled at his words. Not only did he believe in your strength, he was trusting you to look over Morgan. He’d always been like an uncle to you, and one of the closet to you of the avengers besides Natasha and Peter. Though you loved everyone dearly, he saw your interest in technology and science and taught you many things through long days in the lab with him, and sometimes Peter as well.

You glanced at your father, his face was impassive. “Dad I’ll be fine” you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just not comfortable leaving you here with just Morgan.” He muttered looking in your eyes.

“I’ll stay with her” Peter spoke up, sending you a smile. Your heart raced at the thought of being in the compound with just you and Peter; and Morgan of course. You rarely had alone time. Your father was still hesitant but agreed. “Great, Princess Storm and Underoos will hold down the fort while we’re gone” Tony clapped his hands together. You rolled your eyes at the goofy nicknames Tony had for the two of you. “Just don’t let Morgan eat candy for breakfast or something” Tony laughed, he always found a way to lighten the mood.

Your father and the rest of the avengers left to go get started on a mission outline, except Peter. “Looks like we’ve got baby duty” Peter laughed sitting down next to you. “Don’t let Morgan hear you call her a baby she’d lose her mind” you reply, looking over at him. His hair was a little messy, sticking up on his head. He still looked gorgeous though. He wore a tight white t shirt that complimented his tan, and grey sweats. You could see the outline of his abs through his shirt and the outline of something else in his pants. Someone had just threatened to kill you and you were staring at his dick. You shook your head, bringing your eyes back to his face. You were grateful he hadn’t seemed to have noticed where your gaze was just a few seconds ago. “She really is a character, I told her I thought you looked pretty the other day and she said ‘well duh your a bug and she’s a princess. Of course you do’ What four year old comes up with something like that?” He asked.

You rose an eyebrow, “you think I’m pretty, Parker” you asked. “I think you’re beautiful” he shrugged. “A year ago you told me my haircut made look like a lesbian farmer!” You shouted, pushing his shoulder. “Well it did! You were a pretty lesbian farmer though. But a lot has changed in a year..” he trailed off before pretending to push up his imaginary boobs. “Oh my God” you exclaimed. You had...developed a lot more. You went from a scrawny teen to a solid woman, your hips had widened and chest filled out. Even your face had matured. “A lot has changed with you too” you smirked, gesturing to his body. You ran a finger down his chest, letting it slide down until you reached the waistline of his pants.

He stopped your hand, letting out a nervous chuckle. “We have an audience” he mumbled, nodding his head for you to look behind you. A smile grew across your face & you stood at the sight of Morgan. “Y/N!” She squealed, running to you. You scooped her up, and squeezed her in a hug. “I missed you. I love your hugs” she murmured, burying her face into your neck. “I love her hugs too!” Peter bellowed, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind. He pressed his erection into your ass before whispering in your ear, “This is going to be a fun couple of days”

__________________________

PART 2!!!

okay so I’m thinking about turning this into my first miniseries, fluff with Peter, Morgan and you. And of course, it couldn’t be my work without lots of smut! I wanna do another miniseries as well so send me in ideas if you want! Let me know if you’re interested in this concept or if I should just make a part two and be done! Love you all❤️

#peter parker x you #peter parker preference #peter parker #peter #peter parker smut #peter smut #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #avengers smut #avengers #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #thor #miniseries #smut #tom holland smut

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sometimesrosy · 5 years

Note

Do you think bellarke not being “confirmed” (like a kiss or a confession) by the end of the series is bad writing/disrespectful to fans? I can appreciate the story without a confirmation but I feel like they almost owe the audience this? Idk what’s your take on this

My take on this is part of why I’m struggling with being part of the 100 fandom right now. The 100 does not owe you confirmation of your ship. They are telling the story of Bellarke, but what they decide Bellarke to be is up to them. If you want to watch the story of Bellarke, it’s up to you to actually PAY ATTENTION TO THE STORY OF BELLARKE, not make up your own.

Everyone seems to feel that they are being disrespected by the show telling the story of the show. And I have a problem with this. I feel like the fandom is disrespecting the story by not letting it BE the story it is. I’m the first person to say that this IS the story of Bellarke, this is what we’ve been watching all this time and they have NOT betrayed that. They have continued to tell Bellarke for 6 seasons and every season they have gotten closer and deeper and more intimate and more epic. The love story that IS Bellarke is far more beautiful to me than what the fandom is demanding. If the story had pulled away from Bellarke at any point, I might have said that it was not going there. That they changed their minds or I was wrong. But it’s not. Every season the Bellarke love gets MORE. And every season when I see who they are at the end, I think it is more beautiful and more intense, even when it is also painful.

If this were a romance genre show, which requires, as part of its genre, that there be a HEA (happy ever after) where the love interests get together, then NOT getting together is a betrayal of the genre/audience/expectations. Although I’d like everyone to remember that Pride and Prejudice never had Elizabeth and Darcy get together, and the first confession resulted in an ABSOLUTE DESTRUCTION of the romance relationship and it wasn’t until the very last scene that we got a marriage proposal and acceptance.

As this is NOT a romance genre show, and is instead a post apocalyptic science fiction action survival show.... a HEA is NOT a requirement.

HOW they define Bellarke is UP TO THEM. What the endgame is IS UP TO THEM. Romance can definitely be an element of post apocalyptic science fiction survival shows, but the expectations are not the same for the genre. With the mythic and tragic element to this story, a HEA is ABSOLUTELY NOT GUARANTEED. And for the fandom to require it is an imposition on their part. Sorry.

We as the fandom don’t get to decide for them how this story should end. And to think we do is rather offensive. Do you know? That’s where I think the disrespect is. When someone is telling a story, you let them tell it. You don’t demand your version.

Maybe people consider this perspective to be old fashioned, but this is my belief. Everyone should get the chance to TELL THEIR STORY. And this is what I want to encourage. it’s one of the reasons I love fanfiction because it’s a freedom to write your own story and tell your perspective and desires and fears. The more people who tell their story, the more perspectives we get. And I would defend the right of EVERYONE from beginning teen age writer to broadcast show runner.

The flip side of the directive to TELL YOUR OWN STORY is that we need to have an audience that listens when people tell their own story, because otherwise what’s the point? It’s not just about seeing yourself in the stories, it is ALSO about learning about other people’s stories, listening when people tell their version of the world. Sharing. being open to other perspective. So that means the flip side is LISTEN TO THEIR STORY.

When I listen to the story of The 100, and the bellarke story within The 100 story, I do not see a story that is missing anything. I do not see a story that is a betrayal of the audience, the expectations or itself. I see a story where a kiss or confession is NOT the culmination of their love. He just saved her life with NOTHING but his love. How could you possibly be disappointed by that? How could you feel cheated? I guess because fandom is more interested in romance genre which requires kiss/confess/sex? Or soap operas, which require melodrama in regards to romance and sex everywhere?

Listen. Do I WANT them to kiss? Yes. Of course. Am I frustrated that story goes so slow? Sure. But as I’m watching the show, I can see it is STILL developing and growing and getting deeper. We are not at the endgame. We are building the endgame. I don’t have a guarantee that they will get a HEA. I don’t have a guarantee that it won’t be last minute like P&P. I don’t have a guarantee that their love won’t be tragic and someone sacrifices for the other. I don’t have a guarantee that their love won’t be a particular myth like sun/moon who never get together (although since they are getting closer it would seem that they ARE not in a static orbit but heading for connection, in the case of binary stars I think that might meet in supernova, creation of a new galaxy and all that.)

To top it all off, I don’t like it when people ask me to make judgments on what I haven’t seen yet. And yet, the fandom does that ALL THE TIME. Like, you want me to feel betrayed by an eventuality that hasn’t happened yet and may not ever happened. No wonder you all think JR is your enemy. You’ve got him set up to be betrayer when he hasn’t done anything yet. You’re just PROJECTING that he’ll do that.

I mean, I’ve seen people say he’s just like D&D and will ruin The 100 the way they ruined GOT, but I don’t see that happening. I see resolutions of storylines that pull on the entire history of the show. I see all those parallels as they bring important elements back into play. I see characters working through their trauma and growing stronger.... none of this happened on GOT. Or, it started to and when they got to the end of GRRM’s story, they dropped it all. Which tells us that the structure and meaning of the story was coming from the author while the flash and dazzle was coming from the showrunners. And when they lost the support of the author, their story fell apart. The 100 has been JR’s baby from the start and the story HIS, and he’s refused to allow other people to push him from his story even when it caused problems.

But here’s the thing. If GOT had ended with the same people dead and the same people on the thrones, they COULD have made it a satisfactory ending. There’s no way to tell if it works or doesn’t work until you get the story. They COULD have tied it into the prophecies. They COULD have worked an epic tragedy, instead of dropping character arcs and forcing them to BECOME what they were all fighting against. They could have had them facing their pain and growing, even if they lost. That’s why Lyanna’s story and Theon’s story felt right and Dany’s and Jon’s and Jaime’s stories felt wrong. They could have USED the spirituality and magic they set up for Bran to make him a powerful scary king instead of “weird.” (that’s the worst. he’s not weird. he’s magic. do they even LIKE fantasy?) They could have made Sansa be a STARK instead of turning her into a Cersei-Littlefinger hybrid. Lyanna Mormont was a better Stark than Sansa. BUT THEY DIDN’T. The ending could have worked if they had valued the journey they took us on. THAT’S the betrayal. And the funny thing IS, I got all my endgames on that show. Jon and Dany. Arya and Gendry, Brienne and Jaime... got the kisses. got the sex scenes. got the confirmation. Did that stop them from betraying the audience???? NO. BECAUSE BONING IS NOT STORY.

Bellarke is the STORY of The 100. One of them. And we have not been betrayed. To be honest, I felt more hurt by the finales of seasons 2 and 4 than the finales of seasons 5 and 6 which gave us all the fandom outrage. Because in THE STORY Clarke and Bellamy are TOGETHER, closer and more epic than before. To be honest, they are practically one soul in two bodies at this point... they are being WRITTEN as soulmates. This isn’t just being told to us by word of god, you can SEE it. Clarke lived on, for six years with Bellamy’s soul inside of her. And Bellamy lived on with hers inside of him. And when she was body snatched, Clarke could reach out and contact HIM and when she was murdered inside her mind, he REACHED IN AND PULLED HER OUT.

And y’all are pissed off because Bellamy is still “technically” with someone he can barely have a decent conversation with? And spends no time or energy on?

I can’t listen to the complaining anymore. The story we HAVE is so good. And everyone is like BUT THE BONING!!!! BETRAYAL IS LACK OF BONING!!!!!

We aren’t misinterpreting this story. There are things we are misinterpreting, like the imagined war between Clarke and Spacekru, or Echo being a bad guy. Or Clarke being a bad guy. We’re imagining a shipwar too. B/E vs B/C. That doesn’t exist. Echo and Clarke are not enemies. They are not opposites. They are not good vs evil. Echo doesn’t have to be bad because Bellarke belongs together. B/E isn’t toxic. Taking Josephine into the woods was not a sign that Bellamy turned his back on his people. But we aren’t misinterpreting that Bellarke is the center of the story.

And I’m not going to say the story is betrayed by projecting my own speculation and blaming it on JR. Not sure anyone can tell their own story if we can’t tell the difference between OUR story and someone else’s story.

#ugh rant

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curiositydooropened · 5 years

Text

Will’s Day

He caught his reflection in the full length mirror and paused to run fingertips along the scars of his abdomen. It was a daily occurrence, itching odd bits of skin that prickled, scrubbing himself in the shower, occasionally enjoying his hot tub alone, but since today was what it was, they struck different.

[In which Will is inundated with memories of a day he’s been trying to forget.]

Word Count: 5,116 words

Characters: Will, the Byers clan, and the rest of the Party

The buzzing of his cell phone against his writing desk indicated several texts coming in at one time, and Will stared at it over thick-rimmed glasses, graphite pencil poised in one hand. He regretted bringing it into his office, having done so out of habit. He’d answered e-mails from clients that morning while sipping his coffee, and he’d read the news after that. He was currently using it to broadcast ambient sounds around his studio while he sketched out his latest piece. He was annoyed at how dependent he’d become to the tiny hunk of metal and glass.

He supposed he wouldn’t have been annoyed if it wasn’t that day. That day, it came up every year, November 6th, the anniversary of the day he went missing. He tried to forget it, push it back into the recesses of his mind, lock away the horrors he’d been forced to speak about his entire life, the horrors that inspired his comic book series, made him famous. He owed his career to that day, and yet he wished it never happened.

It was also impossible to forget about that day when, like clockwork, every November 6th, he’d been inundated with texts of love from people he’d rarely spoken to since they went to college in different cities, had careers across the world, learned to distance themselves from their tortured pasts.

So, tossing his pencil gently aside, he took a deep breath, leaning back in his squeaky wooden chair, and he grabbed for his cell phone to read the latest well-wish from someone he missed who’d moved on with their life. Surprisingly, his first message was from his brother.

Jonathan: Mom said we’re going to yours for dinner. Want me to talk her out of it?

He loved his brother’s astute sense of awareness, but he knew there was no use. Mom would pound the door down just to see him. Especially today. He couldn’t do that to her.

No. Don’t want to upset her. Come on over around 6. Bring the family.

It had been a while since he’d seen his niece and nephews. Maybe having family around was what he needed to rid his shoulders of tension and his dreams of rows of teeth and growing vines.

On days like today, he hid his comics in a chest in the corner. It felt childish, but on Halloween, he’d rolled up his posters and pulled down his shelf of accomplishments, locking them away in the oversized trunk with his old purple wizard’s outfit and the super comm. He couldn’t have flower-shaped faces and the ghostly face of a teenaged girl staring back at him while he worked.

Another buzz in his hand startled his focus from the chest in the corner, and the device in his hand notified him of an incoming phone call from his mother. He removed his glasses, rubbing at tired eyes, and answered her call for the third time today.

“Will?”

“Hi, mom,” he sighed. The room around him went quiet from the lack of music, and there was the faint buzz of static in his ear, sending chills down his neck. His mom’s voice went in and out of the receiver. “Mom?” He felt frantic. He pushed off from his chair.

“Will, honey, can you hear me?”

“Mom, where are you?”

“Sorry, we’re at the grocery store. I never get any damn service in here.”

His breathing regulated, relief coursing through him. So it was going to be like that today. He sighed, exiting his office to find the pill cabinet above the kitchen sink. “What’s up?” He asked over the phone, filling a glass of water.

“Jonathan texted and said he’s bringing Nancy and the kids. Mike and El are coming too, is that okay?”

He sighed. He supposed he couldn’t avoid seeing his adopted siblings either, even though their faces haunted his dreams worse than the others. Their relationship had been strained in the past few years, not wanting their stories told as detailed in his comics. He understood it was for El’s safety, but they had to understand his need to tell his truth, his full truth, even if the general public thought it was a brilliant work of science fiction. “Of course. The more the merrier.” Did she want to invite Dustin and Lucas too?

“Is there anything you want us to pick up at the store? Hop’s thinking prime rib.”

“Sounds great, mom, as long as he’s cooking it.”

“You know I don’t let your mom cook anything,” Hop yelled over the noise of the store. “Don’t want to burn your nice house down.” Lovely, she’d dialed him on speaker phone at the grocery store. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t a video chat.

“Good call, Hop,” he grit his teeth, downing his dosage of anxiety medication and chugging water to wash them down.

“Listen, sweetie, we’ve got to go. We’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too.” Click.

Once again, his house was drowned in silence. He hit play on his music and waltzed back into the office. The trunk continued to stare from the corner as he hunched back over his work, throwing his glasses on to sketch small details for his latest client. Oftentimes, he’d do artwork for several ghostwritten comics. He did an issue of X-Men once, which had been his ultimate dream. Getting the news of that was probably the best day of his life. He didn’t have anything else to compare it to, no weddings, no babies.

He glanced upward at the picture of his family rooted to his shelf next to a myriad of awards. His mom and Hopper took up the center, one massive and one tiny, hands intertwined on her shoulder. Mike and Eleven were to the left, cradled in each other’s arms with beaming faces. Jonathan and Nancy were clutching at her swollen stomach. Their other two kids made funny faces at the camera, striking goofy poses. Will was in the back, a half-hearted smile on his face, wondering when he’d have a partner to show the family. That was ten years ago, before Teddy had been born.

Two hours into his work, desk vibrations signaled a new message. He stretched his hands, cracking at tired knuckles. He’d made some significant headway on his drawing, allowing his art to distract from the day or the time or even the real world around him. He supposed that’s why he’d turned to art in the first place, as a distraction.

Now, grappling for his phone, he glanced to see the familiar name pop up with a photo.

Dustin: Look who I stumbled upon! Miss you, buddy!

Dustin’s curls had been cropped short and tight, but he had the same infectious smile, one arm cocked around the shoulders of an aged Steve Harrington. The older man still had the hair, though it was graying significantly, and wrinkles had formed around his brown eyes. The selfie was cropped too tight for Will to make out a location, and he wondered if Dustin had gone to visit Hawkins that week, or perhaps Steve was in DC. He realized he wasn’t sure where Steve was living now, what he’d done with his life.

Blast from the past. Miss you too. Hope they haven’t kicked you out of Washington yet.

The response came quicker than he anticipated.

I would say ‘never’, but with this administration, who the hell knows? Hope Chicago’s treating you well. Any good comics to watch out for?

Dustin always was his biggest fan. Although he didn’t appreciate the portrayal of the loud-mouthed, chubby kid, Will knew Dustin was ecstatic to be the star of a comic book. They always geeked out together about X-Men among other things. They’d drifted apart of the years when Dustin moved away and had a family, but they’d always have long nights perched under Cerebro, making calls to Salt Lake City.

New volume closer to Christmas. I’m actually working on something for DarkHorse at the moment.

Awesome, man. I’ve gotta head back to work. Maybe I’ll call you later.

Will knew he wouldn’t hear from him again until his birthday in March, except for the family picture Christmas card, Dustin’s wife, Jody, will send in December. He had a growing pile stashed in one of his drawers, ready to pull out in case any of his friends visited. They never did.

He paused his work to eat some lunch, a haphazard egg salad sandwich that had somehow dribbled down the front of his t-shirt. He’d have to change before mom showed up or she’d worry he wasn’t taking care of himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting his phone down on the couch-side table, and walked down the hall to his bedroom. He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it into the laundry pile, auto-walking into his oversized closet for something more patterned, in case he spilled his snack later. He didn’t want to change twice.

He’d had a few scars from his first trip to the upside down, mainly under his jaw, from where that feeding tube had suction cupped to his face. He had a burn scar in his side from where Nancy prodded him with a white hot iron fire poker, Thanks Nance. He had several scars on his knees from glass shards on the floor of Starcourt Mall and a burn on his hand from a mis-placed firework fuse. All of these injuries paled in comparison to the long claw mark leading from the collar bone to his navel. It had been over thirty years, but he could still feel the frigid sting, could still see the open mouth, rows of teeth, playing with its food.

The loud ring of his phone down the hall startled him back to reality, and he threw on a nearby black t-shirt, scurrying past any mirrors until he reached his phone. MADMAX flashed on the screen. He sighed and clicked to answer.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Today’s the day, right?” Ah, yes, the ever-tactic Maxine.

“Yeah,” he sighed, crashing back into his leather sofa.

“How’s Joyce handling it?”

“Same as every year. The whole family’s coming for dinner.”

“Well that’ll be nice. Wish I was there.”

“Wish you were too.”

They’d had an unexpected, and somewhat tedious, relationship after Billy died. Max asked Will a lot of prying and personal questions, but he understood she just wanted to know what her brother had felt, how he couldn’t have been in control of his body when he carried all of those people to their deaths. Will could give her that feeling, explain what Billy was experiencing.

They developed a friendship beyond that, discussing comic books. Max taught him how to skate board and ace arcade games. For a while into puberty, Will thought Max could be the one. She and Lucas had broken up for good, and Will knew he loved her, knew he got along with her better than almost everyone in the group. She knew what it felt like to be an outsider. She’d experienced trauma in ways the others would never understand.

They shared other fundamental qualities as well, they learned the closer they got, such as deadbeat dads and protective older brothers. Neil was a lot worse than Lonnie, and Max spent nights without Billy asking God why the Mind Flayer didn’t take Neil instead. Her prayers were answered the following year.

“Are you moping today or being productive?” Max asked, in the way Will was sure she’d ask her children on a bad day of classes. Were they in college now?

“A little of both,” he chuckled. “What about you?”

“You know me, always working. I’m on call actually, so I might have to go soon. But I wanted to make sure you were you know... not missing.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Tell Joyce and the family hi.”

“Will do.”

“Love you, Zombie Boy.”

“Love you, Max.”

The house fell silent once more.

At promptly six o’clock, a ring at the door signaled the first group of family members. Will turned the volume down on the Jonathan-centric playlist he chose and padded toward the door, socks catching slightly on the carpet in the entry way. He toyed with a few smiles before settling for the least-extreme and opened the door to greet his brother and sister-in-law.

“Hi, how are you?” Nancy asked, promptly kissing both cheeks before shoving past him to put her fruit salad in the fridge.

“Great,” he lied. “How are you guys?”

Teddy stood in front of Jonathan, staring at the device in his hand instead of greeting his uncle, and Will moved out of the way to let them in as well.

“We’re good, right Teddy?”

The ten-year-old harrumphed in agreement. Will glanced over his shoulder to see he was playing a game about the living dead, how apt.

“What’ve you been up to today?” Jonathan asked, waltzing into the kitchen behind his wife to find a bottle of scotch. He always knew where Will hid his favorite stash. He pulled two, “three?” “I have to drive”, two glass tumblers from the cabinet and poured a glass for them each.

“Just working on this project for DarkHorse.” Will sighed, taking the beverage from his brother.

“That’s right, the anti-hero one, right?”

“Yeah. Nancy, can I offer you anything?”

She waved him off. “Teddy, want a coke?”

The kid made a noise that sounded like “uh” in agreement, and Nancy pulled two sodas from the fridge, popping the tabs.

“What should we toast to?” Jonathan grinned, holding his glass up to cheers. “To... finding you?”

Will made a face. “To mom?”

“I like that,” Jonathan smirked. “To our crazy ass mom.”

Will didn’t like the addition, but he clinked glasses anyway. Nancy threw her can in absentmindedly and the three of them took a long swig before Nancy flittered back to the living room. The whisky burned its way down to a warm pocket just below his rib cage. It sat there, ruminating. He wondered if he’d need more anxiety medication to survive the night.

The doorbell rang again. Nancy opened it, and around the corner he heard the chirps and cries of greetings that signaled the arrival of mom and Hop and Mike and Eleven. He cursed under his breath.

“Oh, Bea’s running late, by the way. Nancy think she might have a boyfriend and that idea makes me want to die. So he might come too, hope that’s okay.” Jonathan threw in as an aside.

Will shrugged. “That’s fine, whatever. What about Mickey?”

“Oh, Mick’s at school. You’ll probably see him on Thanksgiving.”

“Right, okay.” Mickey was probably Will’s favorite nephew. He grew up fascinated about Will’s comics and was going to school to be a writer himself. They’d grown distance in the past couple of years, but Will held a fondness unmatched in the boy’s siblings, although he obviously loved them too.

“Will?” Joyce called from the living room. The chatter had grown tenfold in the other room, and Will figured there was no use trying to avoid it any longer. He took another full gulp of his drink before tip-toeing to greet his house guests.

“Hey, mom-“ Immediately, he’d been crushed in a rib breaking embrace from his mother, who kissed at his cheek and commented on his appearance. “Okay, mom, okay. Missed you too.” Since last Saturday. He chuckled, gently pushing the woman away, and she stepped back to reveal Hopper’s uncomfortable stance.

“Son,” he held a hand out to shake and Will returned the awkward gesture. They’d been through so much together, he and his stepfather, but Hopper never quite fell into the fatherly role as he had with Eleven. He was protective sure, and caring. He was understanding and kind and strong, and he took amazing care of Joyce in their old age, but he was always a little distant. Will supposed Russia did that to him, and New York before that, and Vietnam before that, and hell, probably Hawkins before that.

“Where’d you get that whisky?” Hopper asked, a familiar twinkle in his eye, alleviating the tension between them.

“Jonathan’s in the kitchen,” Will laughed.

“Oh, Jonathan!” Mom called, leading her husband into the next room.

Before Will could process what was happening, a pair of slender arms had been thrown around his neck, and a soft bosom heated his chest. “Hi, brother,” Eleven sighed into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. With his free hand, he knelt into the embrace, squeezing her around the middle. He buried his face in chocolate curls and breathed her in. This wasn’t the greeting he was expecting from her, but he was glad it was the one she’d gone with.

She pulled away, holding him at arm’s length, and tears had sprung in her brown eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he groaned, attempting a grimaced smile. “I’m fine, really.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she laughed, waving away tears. “I’ve just been thinking about you all day, and I love you is all.”

“I love you too, freak,” he smiled, kicking at her sneakered foot. “Shoes off at the door though.”

She swatted at him, but retreated to the door to pull off her shoes, trailing November soil and leaves with her. He made a mental note to vacuum once everyone had left.

“Hey,” came a timid throat clear as Mike stepped forward from his spot watching Teddy play video games.

“Hey,” Will responded.

This was more of the greeting he had expected. He hadn’t spoken to Mike in months, and he was shocked he even agreed to show up. They’d had a fight during the latest issue release, when Mike read the manuscript and all of the details about Eleven’s past. El was sour too, a little overwhelmed, but Mike, who always had El’s well-being in mind, threw a fit. He threw words too, so many hurtful words, words that still stung as Will looked at him now.

He was the same Mike Wheeler he’d always been, too tall, gangly, freckled. Only now his unkempt hair was speckled with grey and glasses round his dark eyes turning his furrowed brow into the spitting image of ole Ted Wheeler, though he didn’t have kids of his own to ignore.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Mike sighed, peeling off toward the bustling sounds of the kitchen.

“Michael!” Nancy hissed, sounding eerily like Karen scolding down the basement stairs.

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. He definitely needed his pills.

El came over and linked her arm with his, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too,” he smiled softly when she pulled his drink from his hand to take a swig.

“How are you?”

“Good.”

“How are you today though?”

He was getting frustrated of the question, wanting desperately for today to be like any other day. “I’m good.”

She cocked a knowing eyebrow behind his tipped glass.

“I got a text from Dustin today. I guess Steve was in DC. Max called. It was a good day.”

El nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response, and sandwiched her palm into his. “Let’s join the party.” Despite his groan of protest, she tugged him toward the kitchen, leaving Teddy in the living room with his video game. Jonathan found the controls to crank the music.

Hopper’s prime rib was delicious, as usual, and the alcohol and food had the family in a near coma scattered around Will’s living room furniture. Hopper had moseyed off to his favorite armchair, pulling the lever to recline, snoring almost immediately. Joyce lovingly posted herself on the mantle at his feet, warming herself on the wood burning fire.

Teddy’s eyes hadn’t left his phone the entire meal, much to Nancy’s chagrin, and after dinner, he somehow found his way back to the couch to continue his game. Bea stumbled in midway through the meal, brown hair a mess and neck wrapped dutifully in an oversized scarf to hide a hickey. Nancy and her had quite the fight in the entryway while everyone listened on with knowing smirks. After the meal, she found herself posted up next to Teddy, the two of them kicking ankles and making annoyed faces. They truly were the spitting image of Nancy and Mike.

“So, Bea, Jonathan tells me you’re taking the year off school?” El started, tucking herself into Mike on the opposing love seat.

“Yeah,” Bea chewed on the inside of her cheek, anxiously eyeing her mother. “I just don’t know what I want to do yet, so why waste the money?”

“It’s not a waste-“ Nancy started, but Jonathan stopped her with a hand to the knee and a kiss on the cheek.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Will challenged, alcohol lighting the fire within him like a hot poker to his side. “I mean, I didn’t go to college and look at me now.” He gestured to the grand house around them, empty except for special holidays like this one, the anniversary of the time he was kidnapped by an inter dimensional creature.

“Yeah, look at you now,” Mike spat from beside Eleven, his eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.

“Mike, not now,” Eleven wrapped her arm around her husband’s wrist.

“Yeah, Mike, not now,” Will spat. “I’m fragile today. Didn’t you hear? Dustin did, Max did. You’re all here for a reason!” He was standing now, he didn’t know when that happened.

Mike stood too, pushing off from his seat. “Yeah, we get it, Will. You’ve been fragile for the last thirty years. Not too fragile to compromise the rest of us, but at least you’re doing fucking better.”

“Michael!” Eleven and Nancy chided in unison, but Hopper had beat them to it, fisting each of the boys on the back collar like they were thirteen again.

“Alright you two, let’s take a walk.”

“Whoa, what’s up with them?” Will heard Teddy pipe up, the first real word he’d said all night, as he and Mike were lead out of the room.

Hopper had surprising brute strength for a nearly 70-year-old, and maybe it was the alcohol lingering between the two younger men that had them stumbling into Will’s office. “Now, stay in here and talk about it like men, or don’t. I don’t give a shit. I just don’t need you upsetting your mother. Not today.” Hopper prodded at Will’s chest before backing out of the room and slamming the door.

Will ran a hand through a mop of hair, huffing out a breath of frustration.

Mike paced the room slowly, carefully taking in the shelved walls, stopping at the family portrait above Will’s drawing desk. Beside it was an empty spot where Will’s portrait of “the Party” would have sat, the frame now tucked safely into the trunk in the corner.

“I’m sorry, okay,” he started, slowly. “You’re right. You’ve always been right. I ‘compromised’ Eleven, or whatever you want to call it, and it’s shitty, and I’m sorry. My company wanted more storyline, more science fiction...”

“Shut up, man,” Mike scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done, it’s published. We’re fine. I Just wish you had... I don’t know, asked us first. Or drudged some more of your own trauma.”

“Oh believe me, that shit’s endless. My publishers wanted something more interesting than Will the Wise.” He rolled his eyes, staring into the blank space beside Mike’s arm.

“What’s this?” Mike asked after a long silence, pointing to the nearly complete sketch on the table. He had one hand in his pocket, and Will knew it was clenching and unclenching into a fist around his car keys.

“It’s a comic I’m working on. It’s about this girl who is more of an antihero. She fights this vigilante guy kind of like Indiana Jones.”

“She looks pretty cool,” Mike mused softly.

“Thanks,” Will felt his cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment. He’d always struggled with drawing women, refusing to objectify them the way comics of their past had. He always saw woman as strong, mighty beings, like his mom.

“Listen,” Mike turned to him finally, leaning his lanky frame against the drawing table. It tilted slightly, graphite pencil rolling to the ground. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick. I know you didn’t mean harm. You never do. These past few years have just been... Getting old is bullshit.”

Will knew what he meant. It’d never been easy for them. In their late twenties, they struggled to conceive. In their thirties, they spent years in court trying to pass legislation to stop the funding of projects such as those she’d been apart of. In their forties, her hormones caused her powers to go haywire. She’d accidentally set their home aflame. They’d been through enough.

“It really is,” Will sighed.

“I should probably take her home. She gets emotional when she’s tired.”

Will laughed dryly. “Yeah, I better say goodbye to mom and Hop.”

“Should we go out holding hands?”

Will felt the familiar lump in his throat, and he blew out a sort of snort in protest. Mike slapped him on the back and exited the room first. He’d never told anyone but Max about his feelings for Mike, probably never would. They’d changed by now, melded into the brotherly love they shared in elementary school, but for a while, a long while, Will looked at him differently.

He’d pushed the thoughts away, thwarted by constant name-calling from his dad and classmates. He thought he was in love with Princess Leia, thought he was in love with Max. It wasn’t until he tried to kiss Max, planted a big one on her that she corrected him, holding him at arms length to tell him the truth about himself.

He wasn’t sure how she knew, when he himself didn’t even know, couldn’t be. She said Billy had been into guys, back in California, that he was the reason they had to move. He and Will had more in common than a name and a shit dad and a possession. She said she saw Billy with a boyfriend once, and it was the happiest he’d been. She said it was the same way Will looked at Mike.

Mike didn’t hug Will goodbye that night, but Eleven did, bleary eyed and warm. She pressed a kiss to his forehead on tip toe and told him to call her tomorrow. He probably wouldn’t. Jonathan was next, a tight hug and a firm slap on the back. Nancy kissed his cheeks again while ushering Teddy to the car.

“Bye, Uncle Will, thanks for having us over,” Bea threw an arm around his neck. She smelled like Nancy in high school, gun powder and cigarettes.

He grinned. “Anytime, Bea. Come over anytime you need to hide out from your parents.”

“Bea!” Nancy called from the driveway.

“Thanks,” Bea smiled, rushing out the door toward her own clunker of a car.

Last was Mom and Hop. Hopper gave the awkward handshake again before bursting into the snow to start the car, heating it up for mom. She turned to Will with tears in her eyes that mirrored El’s, and Will felt the lump growing in his throat.

“Mom,” he groaned.

“I know, honey, I know. I just love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

It was somehow harder to see an elderly woman tear up. She’d aged well, but remained the same perfect mom shape to hold. She wore the same things she wore in 1983, a flannel layered over a dark t-shirt, and her leather jacket smelled of Hop’s cigarettes even though the two of them quit smoking years ago. It was the same smell she had the morning he said goodbye to her before heading to the Wheeler’s for a campaign of D&D. It was the same smell he came home to in a panic, searching for his mom and Jonathan with that thing hot on his heels.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, taking one last breath of her before composing himself and holding her at arms length. “Better not keep Hop waiting. Call me tomorrow?”

“Always,” she kissed his cheek before carefully stepping across the drive to Hopper’s car. Will waved to her as she got in, seeing her blow a kiss from behind the passenger side window.

The house was quiet, too quiet, only the crackling of the fire keeping time with the song playing at low volumes. Will had poured himself a night cap, the last of the bottle, and was sunken into the brown leather of his sofa.

The familiar guitar riffs of an old haunt chimed over the sound system, and despite the tickle at the back of his neck, he reached over to turn up the volume. The oversized house was suddenly drowned in the familiar British lyrics of The Clash. He nodded his head to the tune, shaggy hair covering his eyes, alcohol warming his face.

No lights flickered, no monster chased him. His mom was safe at home, Jonathan probably snug in his bed with his beautiful wife. Will chased his whisky with music and the taste of childhood trauma.

His eyelids felt heavy, chest heated with exhaustion, and he thought he might fall asleep there with his black t-shirt covering the scars on his chest and the scary things locked away in a trunk in his office.

A buzz on his rib cage brought his attention to a new message, and he opened it with a fond smile.

Lucas: Drove past the Quarry today, and your old house. They haven’t changed a bit.

Sounds like Hawkins.

Lucas: You’re not wrong. Hey, me and kids are coming to Chicago to visit Erica for Thanksgiving. Mind if we stop by?

Will smiled. He hadn’t seen Lucas in years.

Lucas: Up for a round of D&D?

Stop in whenever. My door’s always open.

Will set his phone on the couch-side table and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off. He had no demogorgons to fear, no razor sharp claws to cut him in the night, no army of the living dead knocking on his door, just a trunk full of memories and a family to check in on him at his time of need.

[Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoyed my first little fanfiction for Stranger Things Day 2019! I’ve written plenty of ST fic before, but this is my first time posting any on this platform. Please let me know what you think! I’m excited to be posting more of my work here in the future. I basically just have all the feels and need someone to talk to about it. I ship all the ships and I love all the characters, I could go on about it for hours (and I do, and my husband thinks I need friends.) so come chat! xo]

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fangzeronos · 5 years

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Young Justice Outsiders finale

Ok, guys. Here’s the finale wrap up for Young Justice Outsiders! Massive spoilers under the cut, so read at your own risk.

Episode 24: Into the Breach

Ok, so this picks up just before M’gann’s teams infiltrate the Orphanage from Ep 23 Terminus. The Outsiders, minus Static (who’s been with Black Lightning), and Geo-Force, who was with M’gann’s team, infiltrate Building 16, a props department with no surveillance. Vic’s powers come in hand to get rid of the illusion and find the Apokoliptan tech, leading Granny to show up after putting the Outsiders in the X-Pit’s Ghost Dimension.

Gar and Granny fight, and since when can Gar turn into a Ma’ale’fak? We haven’t seen one of those since M’comm tried to fight M’gann back early on in the season. I know he can turn into things from other planets, like that weird bird thing from Rann, but this was new. I really enjoyed the fight, even yelling “GAR GET YOUR ASS UP!” several times.

Vic, while all this was going on and they were being tortured, worked his technomagic on Overlord and kicked it’s ass, breaking Granny’s hold on the Ghost Dimension and causing them to win the fight. After he and Beetle destroyed the tech he’d found earlier, he boom tubed to the Orphanage and found Violet and Granny, whose two selves (Granny Goodness and her “avatar” Gretchen Goode) fused back together. He blasted the control goggles off of Halo’s head, and y’all this is where it got good!

MY GIRL WENT SUPER SAIYAN! All of her auras, lookin’ like motherfucking Rainbow Brite before laying a hurt on Granny’s candy ass. She cleansed the Anti-Life Equation, freeing her friends before she, Vic, Superman, and Captain Atom blew up the device on the Orphanage. The reunion with Brion was sweet and I’m glad they’re together again, even though I know something bad is about to happen later on.

Connor and M’gann, however, aren’t so kosher. He’s still dealing with her hiding the Anti-Light from him, and who knows how they’re going to end up. I know a lot of people hate SuperMartian as a ship, but we already lost Spitfire and BluePulse isn’t going to happen, so can we please leave at least one ship intact?

Vic officially joined the Outsiders too! Cyborg is now officially born!

Episode 25: Overwhelmed

Ho, boy. Let’s start with the easy and get to the emotional stuff, because that’s where the meat of the episode is.

Connor and Forager go to Geranium City, a city created and inhabited by Genomorphs, the same ones that were under Cadmus’ control back in the early days. Forager’s trying to find his place on Earth since Mantis was arrested at the end of the last episode for helping Granny Goodness, and he’s torn between returning to his home world or staying on Earth. He and Connor have work to do regarding both of them coming to the light, so to speak.

Metron returned long enough to basically kidnap Vic and Violet, and unfortunately little Lian since she was in Violet’s arms at the time. Turns out, since they’re both “children” of MotherBox and FatherBox technology, they’re technically Metron’s grandchildren, which is something I never thought I’d hear. He warns them that they may be the key to stopping Darkseid’s plans if they don’t die in the process.

Gregor Markov is back. He’s with Brion and Tara in Beverly Hills, meeting his siblings in secret. The first time all of them have been together in years. Tara, however, has other plans and tells Deathstroke Gregor’s out of the country, allowing them to put their plan into action in Markovia, allowing their uncle, Baron Bedlam, to stage a coup and take over the country. It’s going to be interesting to see how they pull this off.

And now the emotional stuff. Artemis. After coming home and seeing Will had made dinner and set up candles and shit, the two talk before kissing. She breaks the kiss and apologizes, running off to her room and grabbing the picture of her and Wally and apologizing to it. She called Zatanna and meets with her, M’gann, and Rocket under the willow tree they met Dr. Fate under early on in the season. Zatanna casts some magic (or so we think) and Artemis goes into Limbo, seeing Wally.

She’s only got until sunrise, so she imagines their house, they’re engaged, she’s pregnant, and then ends up with a nameless baby. She knows it’s fake, because the tv in the mindscape has Zatanna saying she’s going to cast a spell to “raise the sun”, and then it turns to an episode of “Hello, Megan!” which should have been a clue as to what the hell was going on.

Wally tells her its time to wake up, step through the door and find someone to love again, saying she deserved a chance. “I already had my chance” fucking hurt. She walks through the door (all that’s left of the house after everything faded from around them) and comes back under the willow, and she walks off with the girls.

Rocket questions what happened, and Zatanna admits she cast a spell, but it was all M’gann’s doing. She created a mindscape in Artemis’ head that let her get the closure she needed to be able to move on after two years. The day Artemis finds out that her best friends did that to her, I can very easily see it blowing up in M’gann and Zatanna’s faces and Artemis either threatening her friends or just outright cutting them out of her life.

Violet got home with Lian who was sound asleep, and she tells Will it was “an average night” before going to lay Lian down. Artemis arrived a minute later, her and Will talking about the kiss and what happened, but they both agree it was wrong and felt wrong the moment it happened. They’re still in-laws, after all.

Side note: Can you please bring Wally back already? The Goode Goggles hallucination for Garfield in ep 12, Dick’s fever dream in ep 23, and now a fake limbo by M’gann in ep 25, I am tired of being teased about my boy. Bring him back or stop fucking with our emotions, you bastards. Seriously!

Episode 26: Nevermore

Other than sharing its name with my favorite Teen Titans episode, let’s dive into the big finish!

Three teams lead the charge into Markovia to deal with Baron Bedlam. Tara, Garfield, Victor, and Brion are one squad, M’gann leading El Dorado, Blue Beetle, Traci 13, Static, Wonder Girl, and a couple of others are a second, and Connor, Artemis, Dick, Forager, and Violet are the last. Connor’s squad faces off with Bedlam who takes off running, Count Vertigo coming in to keep the squad down.

Bedlam runs right into Gar’s team, and he’s confronted by his niece and nephew. Brion knocks him out of the window after Bedlam backhands Tara, and the two fight in the courtyard where it gets publicly broadcast. The fight goes either way, but Brion finally manages to get the upper hand on his uncle. Despite everyone telling him not to, Brion executes his uncle on international television! We find out later it’s the Ambassador using a low-level psychic ability to influence Brion’s actions, but the damage is done. Brion is now king of Markovia, estranged from his sister and broken up with Violet who is horrified at his actions. We see later the Ambassador is now a member of the Light, controlling Brion for a puppet government, along with Dr. Jace back in the picture looking happy to have her “Son” back. I honestly fear that Brion is going to be a season 4 antagonist.

I’m so glad to see that Tara’s not going to end up betraying everyone to Deathstroke and we’re not getting Judas Contract again. IT’s about time to do something new with her character, and where she is now is a good place to give her a new direction.

Nice to see Luthor getting what he deserves. Connor outing himself as a clone created by Luthor was a nice touch, and it’s good that Troia might be getting the big chair.

I’m glad SuperMartian is going to stay together. At least two of my ships continue to sail. I was so worried they were going to split for good at the end of Ep 24, and I’m happy to see them going to last.

Dick outing everything they did to the Team and the League was a nice way to end it. Everyone coming back together, and Black Lightning getting the League chair was great. Dude has had a shit run the entire season and it’s good to see him get a win.

A FUCKING LEGION OF SUPERHEROES RING IN THE END SHOT?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Are we getting the Legion in season 4?! That would be so crash!! We almost got Slobo! And Lobo showing up and squashing his clone made from his severed finger was goddamn hilarious.

Overall, this was a great season. There were some slow parts, a few things that could have been expanded on and shortened, but all in all I loved it from the word go. I’m glad we got to see a handful of “one-off” characters in Spoiler, Arrowette, and Orphan, and I hope to see them get more screentime in Season 4. Loved all the new characters, Cyborg was great, Halo was my all time favorite, loved Forager, and up until the end of Ep 26, I enjoyed Brion.

Hats off the all of the voice actors this season, man. Stephanie Lemlin did so good as Artemis still struggling with Wally’s disappearance, and every time she talks about him, you feel the weight and emotion behind each word. Zehra Fazal, if you guys follow my twitter, you know how I feel about this woman. She voiced like a dozen characters, and she did such a damn good job in each scene she was in, and you felt the weight she was carrying trying to discover who and what she was. Zeno Robinson had some big shoes to fill as Cyborg, but MY GOD did the due kill it! From either of the spectrum, Zeno quickly rose up in the ranks of my favorite VA’s.

I’m sad to see the season end, but let’s look forward to Season 4!!

#Young Justice Outsiders #Young Justice Outsiders Spoilers

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hanakospiritofthetoliet · 6 years

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Radio Lullaby (Present Mic x Reader)

A grainy sounding voice, distorted by the static of the small machine it came from, was close to boring you to sleep as you felt your head drip forward, only for you to jerk it back up once. The sudden movement not only made you aware of your tiredness but it also reminded you of the reason of your restless state: your newborn baby. That little bundle of joy almost a year in the making, they were perfect with (y/n) eyes and Hizashi’s blond locks. But unfortunately, one thing they got from their father was his restlessness. Hizashi is a very high energy man; able to balance out three jobs, have a social life, be a husband and now a father! Honestly, you don’t know where he gets it all but it’s a blessing and curse you’re happy to live with... until the baby started to show this trait. You knew having the baby would give you some restless nights but you don’t know if you ever slept at all since you brought them home a few days ago. Because it was Friday night, you were left alone with the little tyke while their dad would be broadcasting on HERO FM in just a little while. Just a little longer, just hold on for a few more seconds....

“And that concludes out broadcast this morning,” the monotone voice stated before a slow outro jingle ended the program segment.

“In 3, 2, 1-“ You chimed off, your yawn afterwards being cut off by a loud, excitable voice that always sounded like music to your ears.

“GOOD MORNING EVERYBODY!!!” Hizashi greeted his listeners as always, always buzzing with a positive and cheery tone.

“Good morning, Hizashi,” you chuckled tiredly, patting the cool plastic of the electronic before turning to your child who giggled at the sound of their father’s voice, curious as they started to look for him, “(k/n) says good morning too.”

“Before we start playing out nonstop music, I wanna give a special shoutout to my beautiful wife and cute kid,” he smiled through his words, making you roll your eyes at a little at his description of (k/n) and you but still, you found it very sweet and touching, “I love you both!”

“We love you too,” You mused, playing a little bit with the soft tuffs of hair that started to grow on your little one’s head.

“Now let’s see if we can rock them to sleep with some rock n’ roll!” Hizashi chimed before playing his lineup of music, the tunes starting to lull (k/n) to sleep. You’ll never know why they fall asleep to this but it works like a charm as you yawn, your movements getting slower now as exhaustion took over.

“Sleep well, (k/n),” you kissed their temple as they drifted off to sleep, plopping your head down into your arms as you looked at the radio once more with a sleepy smile, “And thank you, Hizashi.” You mumbled before you also fell asleep, starting to understand why your kid fell asleep to that type of music as it rocked you to sleep too.

~Epilogue~

Hizashi, despite being a loud and vocal hero, managed to sneak into the house rather quietly as he looked around, only hearing the soft static of the radio in the baby’s room going off.

“Good morning, babe!” He chimed, thinking you might be awake due to (k/n)’s erratic sleeping habits but so far, the house was silent except for the radio, “Babe?”

Following the light hum of the radio, he walked over to the nursery to find both you and his child fast asleep, (y/n) in their crib and you resting in your arms on the baby changing table. He couldn’t help but smile, green eyes shining bright as he fawned over the sight.

“This is too cute,” He snickered to himself, grabbing his phone and taking a picture of the scene. After making it his wallpaper, he managed to take you up into his arms, walking the both of you back to your bedroom where he laid you on the bed before curling up himself right beside you.

“And now I get to sleep,” he mused, barely closing his eyes before he awoke to (k/n) crying their little heart out, Hizashi finally starting to understanding why you slept so little at night.

#present mic x reader #present mic #hizashi yamada x reader #hizashi x reader #fanfic #bnha hizashi #bnha imagines #bnha #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia #blizzard overwatch #hizashi yamada

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meladotjournal · 3 years

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Esther - As The World Caves In

EPISODE TITLE: “... And I Feel Fine”

“Esther and Aeszura are back, reunited with Kadriel, and everything’s going great. A little too great. The trio is in for a rude awakening.” (stolen from Kari’s lovely creator)

GOD has entered the chat.

Takes place during Supernatural Season 15, Episode 12 -- “Galaxy Brain”. Chuck has decided to destroy every single alternate reality, which of course includes that of our dear original characters. Set sometime after Esther’s resurrection, the previous end to her storyline. Near 2300 words!

/////

Esther’s body was different. For starters, it was almost unbearably warm. And tired. She lay in bed, with a heavy knit blanket over her legs, as instructed. Human, undeniably so — her skin no longer glowing from any fancy brand or curse or possession or enchanted knife, but from her own renewed spirit. Every atom, every fiber regenerated and patched together, burning and restarting her system completely.

The blade was no more, her tether reintegrated into her system in some dubious amount, but it was enough to feel whole. Technically her physical body was only a few weeks old, but it was a practically perfect replica of what she was before any of this had started -- before the monsters, before the deals, before the day the world split into two. She could stand to lose a few years, they had always joked, but having it actually happen was something entirely alien. And even then, her childhood scars and even her piercings were nowhere to be seen. Her trusty denim jacket was also lost (and it would have been much too warm for her now anyways) so she fiddled with the sleeves on her newest and itchiest sweater, getting used to the feeling of fabric on her skin, something she hadn’t felt even when she did have a body.

Things were different, but she was home. There was no more running, no more resenting or repressing. There weren’t any more doubts or voices clashing against each other in rough agonized tones, but one unified Esther. Everything wiped clean, baby-smooth pink skin rubbed raw and healed without question by the angel Kadriel. Kari.

She knew that she would have to find a way to help Kari, not because she was obligated to, but because she wanted to. Her chest ached in an unfamiliar way that she both hated and loved, for the first time in a long time finally feeling.

It had been a long time, impossibly long, since Esther last walked the Earth. It was even more difficult now to process, and Esther had to stop herself from wondering how far along her corpse was in the decaying process, if there was a corpse at all. Kari didn’t like to talk about it -- about the time she spent alone. A lifetime ago Esther wouldn't have cared so long as she was still functioning as needed. But what used to be a twinge of guilt was nestled in the center of her brain once again, and she held back her burning questions until Kari was comfortable talking about it. Esther didn’t remember much, if anything at all from the time in between. Sometimes, just as she was drifting off to sleep, she could feel flashes of something her mind couldn’t quite wrap around. A clenched fist, cold leather seats, an aluminum briefcase, and then blinding bright light. If she didn’t know any better, she would have assumed she had visited Heaven.

Esther watched the angel from across the room. Before, she never really understood how it felt to be nothing more than a human surrounded by all-powerful supernatural beings. She never heeded the feeling of static in the air, or the migraines, or the taste of blood in the back of her throat. Putting the supernatural aside, despite her unchanging appearance, Kari was difficult to recognize. She’d give a friendly wave and smile like always, but it never reached her eyes, not anymore. Esther recognized the look, the dullness. If she was different, Kari was immeasurably so, with her hawklike gaze and eerie presence. After thousands of years of unchanging existence, what could possibly have happened that could do this to her friend?

Pulling her own now-glossy eyes away from her much older friend, she squinted at Kari’s borrowed laptop from where she sat on the bed.

“Put your glasses on, Esther,” Kari chimed, “I didn’t give you brand new eyes just for you to neglect them.”

“I look like a fucking nerd.” She did.

“Yeah, you do.” Another voice agreed. The lump of blankets piled on the couch trembled before revealing a vibrant mop of hair and a mess of freckles. “Please just, urgh, destroy them before I have to shove them down your throat and choke you with those ugly fucking things. I’m still not convinced that’s even actually you over there -- you’re like a shitty clone or something.”

Esther wasn’t used to having her feelings hurt. Aeszura went back to her phone, mindlessly scrolling through musical.ly -- TikTok. Even their phones are different, Esther complained. I can’t believe they came out with another fucking iPhone, They couldn’t wait until I stopped being dead?

“I simply wouldn’t allow that to happen. Besides, you know that’s not how it works, Aes,” Kari sighed.

Esther perked at the mention of what “it” was, but unfortunately the explanation ended before it even began. She knew that Kadriel had worked tirelessly to bring her friends back to life, but it never occurred to her that Aeszura could have helped along the way somehow.

“Keep laughing,” she squinted in the direction of the red blob, “I noticed that you’re missing some freckles, p-pizzaface.”

“Don’t even pretend like you can see that far. Idiot. Stupid.”

Esther threw her head back into the hard wooden headboard of the bedframe, swearing at the sky before angrily shoving her glasses on. She glared at Aeszura. Different. Everything’s different. Aeszura, despite her best efforts to loudly scream otherwise, had grown. It was hard for Esther to place. Was her hair longer? Were her eyes softer? She was definitely angrier, but Esther couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t like talking about what happened either, but Esther knew enough to piece together that she died sometime before Esther did. Her mouth went dry at the memory, at the sound of her phone endlessly ringing in a black sedan, the final voicemail and the hole in he forehead and the fucking Muppets. Her stomach clenched, a pit of ice chilling her insides. Different. But they were still here. They were still together, somehow beating the odds and breathing the same air at the same time. No monsters, no case, just them, at home (wherever they were), together. Esther locked eyes with Aes and smiled, because despite everything -- despite the pitfalls and the immeasurable traumas divided between the three of them -- she was so damn happy. Before she could open her mouth to speak, her phone went off.

At the same time, Kari bolted upright, her hands clutching her head. Seconds later, all three of their phones buzzed, a frantic siren and an avalanche of notifications filling the room. Esther’s stomach dropped once again, too scared and too overwhelmed by her annoyingly human brain to process whatever was suddenly being broadcast on the TV. Kadriel?

“Oh, God -- A-angel radio -- going -- argh. Can’t-- can’t hear anything. Um, excuse me,” Kadriel’s face wrinkled, eyebrows furrowed with the effort of sorting out through hundreds (or was it tens?) of panicked inaudible voices. “God -- God?”

“What the FUCK is happening, Wings?”

“Kari-- are you okay? Aes -- your phone --” Esther jumped out of bed, shoes still on, of course. Her heart pounded. Annoying.

“The sky, oh my God -- Satan -- FUCK. SHIT. The sky, you guys, the fucking sky --” Aeszura clutched her phone, nails tapping angrily on the already-shattered screen.

“My father is back, it seems --”

“Portugal, Cuba, London, even fucking Guam --”

“Or he was --”

Esther looked between the two of them, hyperventilating. Stupid. Annoying. For a moment she wishes that she was back to the way she was, comfortably numb. She shook it away as quickly as possible, shaky hands clutching for something that didn’t exist anymore. She places a hand on her chest, scratching at her annoyingly pristine skin, trying to feel for the raised lines of skin that are no longer there.

“What’s going on?”

Kari gave Aeszura a meaningful look.

“It’s the end of the fucking world.” She spits, shocked and pissed and incredulous.

“What-- what about God??!”

“He’s the one that’s ending it,” says Kari, hushed and so, so very tired. “Heaven and Hell are already gone. The empty, I think, too. Earth’s all that’s left.”

“Wh-- what do we do?!”

“I think we need to step outside, Ess.”

/////

There’s nothing to do.

Esther’s friends both dissolve at the same time, and for one very terrible moment she panics, suddenly alone. Suddenly so much more afraid. And she’s not used to it at all. Stupid, she reminds herself, They’ve gone outside. With shaky legs that refuse to fucking work properly, she bolts through the front door to join them.

/////

There’s nothing for us to do. It’s happening. After everything, despite everything, the end comes anyway. We thought we could cheat death, and we did, for a time.

Suddenly, I am alone, and for one very terrible moment I panic, suffocating, choking on emptiness. My friends -- my friends are gone. Stupid, I’m being stupid. They’re outside. It’s fine.

As much work as Kari put into this body I fucking hate it sometimes. It’s just that I hate feeling scared all the time again. I hate when my emotions affect fucking anything, be it the way I think or how my body moves. But at least this isn’t a vessel forged by God, not anymore. That rat-bastard. I don’t want to think about what’s happening, or why, or him. I am a new creation forged by the blood, sweat, and tears of my friends. Still owing them, always, but at least now I’m here to repay them with whatever time we have left. Maybe the tether isn’t gone. Well, it obviously isn’t, it’s me. Just different. Different. And with my new stupid shaky legs I sprint outside to join them.

The sky is blue. The air is hot. Everything would be fine if it weren’t for the giant flaming meteors headed straight for us. The sky just keeps getting hotter and God doesn’t care.

I don’t want to see this.

Aes has her hands shoved in her pockets. I can’t see her face -- she won’t let me. What is she thinking about? I’m sure if I could then I would see the comet reflected in her eyes. I would see pain. I do see millions of shredded pieces crammed into the one and only Aeszura, the only truly redeemed demon ever to exist. For someone who talks so much, I see all the words crammed in her brain that she never lets slip out. Secrets, so many unthinkable things that I’ll never get to know. I want to punch her. I want her to push me over and laugh and I want to sing stupid songs and give her stupid gifts and call her mean things like we always did. There’s still people we have to piss off, and things we need to talk about when she’s ready to, and places to vandalize and funny tulpas to invent and harass people with.

I still owe her my soul. I hope she knows she has it. Always has. Whatever kind of soul she’s got buried under there, ours are mates. I can see them going down to a shitty bar and downing as much booze as they can steal, going on roadtrips and doing crimes and running away from the soul-Feds. If the world wasn’t ending we’d have made it remember us. Can’t really raise hell when it doesn’t exist anymore. I hope that idea gives her some sort of peace, knowing she can’t be tortured anymore. She was never evil, never deserved the shit she got stuck with. And now, good or bad, kind or cruel, demon or angel, we’re all going to the same place.

Kari looks so tired. Her shoulders slump now, and she’s somehow much more gray, much more guarded. I want to make it okay. I want to apologize for everything. I want to go back to the gardens and I want to hold her hand and I want to spill drinks and complain. I want to teach her about toothpaste and I want her to tell me about the bible, like my parents used to when I was a kid. I want her to place a glowing hand over my face and make it feel okay. There’s still movies we have to see, and things we need to talk about when she’s ready to, and places to visit when the weather is nice and when I can stand upright for longer than fifteen minutes without getting tired.

I still owe her for my being here today. I’d still take this over anything, over zoning out of my mind in heaven reliving illusions of whatever good memories I could possibly have. If I could choose just one moment to live in for eternity, it would be this. Anything less than the end of the world wouldn’t feel right, I think. The world is always ending. And at least for this one I’m whole, and I can feel it. As shitty as the terror-filled part is, I still feel so fucking alive, for the first time. Never in my life have I ever felt so alive. And I can see my friends, the people I can finally call my friends. I’m not alone in the sky, and not in the pits either, I’m in the middle, and it’s a damn good middle.

But there’s still people to save. So many people.

I need to hold something. My hands are wretchedly empty, clammy, and shaking. It’s definitely out of character, and very embarrassing and very stupid, but I step closer between the two giants and pull the both of them closer to me.

Finally pieced together, even if it’s a little late.

I’m still happy anyways. It’s as good of an ending that we’ll ever get, I suppose. Together.

#works #trad #drabble #this is a fic written about supernatural ocs #if you're reading these tags hi ily #who would've thought I'd ever update this huh #look at us. who would've thought. haha not me!#more art on my instagram!#and a funky video edit!#i wanna try to have an illustration for all of these eventually

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whirlybirbs · 7 years

Note

a prompt inspired by welcome to the punch: "merlin?" she's sobbing so hard she could barely get the words out. and this wasn't the sobbing he'd heard before, at assorted funerals and the first time she watched august rush. these were sounds forced up from her chest bordered with pure, biting agony. "i'm so sorry, merlin. i wouldn't have made it. ... i fucked up."

For the first time in his career, he’s frozen up.

His brain has just stopped, full halt, and he’s locked on your voice broadcasting through the monitor in the command center. It rips into his chest, shredding the tissue of his heart strings with no mercy.

He was used to that voice coaxing him out of a light sleep, whispering little lovely things in his ear, laughing with him on the couch… That was the voice of his wife, and now it’s as broken as he’s ever heard it.

Your vitals spike. You’re pinned down at the end of the hallway. Harry is three flights below her, working to take out the targets on that floor. He hears you scream again in pain and he knows you’ve been shot again. Your vital readouts are… He can’t read them. He can’t.

His hands are cold.

He feels like he’s going to throw up.

“No,” it’s hoarse, “No, love, I… please get up.”

“Merlin,” you wail, “I can’t. M’ so sorry, baby, m’ sorry.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until they collide with the white of his knuckles.

“Please,” he pleads, “Please, love, y’ need t’ –”

You scream again, blood curdling and raw and pained, your words cutting short as the entire feed goes black. Static drowns out your last words to him.

I love you, Hamish.

#OW #merlin x reader #merlin kingsman x reader #kingsman imagine

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the-l0st-reploid · 7 years

Text

“Heyyyyyy. Pass it over here!”

Damian’s earfins perked up, and he turned his head to see Lance waving to him from the beanbag chair he was currently half-buried in. The Navigation unit weaved between the other ten or so beanbags and lowered the tray he’d been carrying, Lance and Fintan grabbing the bottles of ‘hellbrew’ off it. “...And...where again did you say you found all of these?”

“They were on sale. Maddie ‘n’ Benny insisted on it.” Fintan replied, taking a swig from his bottle as something exploded on screen. “RUN PRESIDENT SCHWARZENEGGER! RUN!”

Lance started cracking up as Damian seated himself behind them, watching the screen without focusing. It was a bizarre habit he’d only recently started having, but Ben had been right to suggest it when his brother complained about the movies the LSNs would watch from time to time.

“Mmm, trashy movies and hellbrew, nothing better huh?” Lance sighed as he leaned back, a weirdly human sense of delight sparking in him at the cushy crunching of the beanbag’s filling.

Damian hummed in reply, imitating Lance’s posture as he let the abnormal air of his normal life wash over him.

“Hmm...Now, the filling needs to be piped in-”

Ben was explaining to Helen, the two at the counter with the makings of dinner strewn across it. “-And smothered in sauce!” She said with glee, tapping the marinara covered spoon against the inside of the pot the red sauce was in.

“I hope you’ll be a little more neat making dinner than our son was with his snack, Dearest.” Joseph teased as he mopped off Kelvin’s mash-covered cheeks, rolling his eyes in a humored way as Kelvin tried to ‘buzzbuzz’ the napkin away.

His spouse grinned at him. “Kelbee loves making artwork for his Daddy, especially with food.”

“I appreciate his drawings on paper, not my shirt.” Joseph chuckled, kissing Kelvin’s cheek as their son laughed and snuggled into his father’s arms.

Helen was eagerly waiting for Ben to fill the pasta tubes awaiting in the dish, cannelloni that would be filled with a cheese and spinach mix and coated in sauce, more filled pasta, and finally cheese to be baked in the oven. “Garlic bread! Don’t forget the garlic bread Mama!” She helpfully reminded.

“Ah! Yes, of course~! Can’t have a pasta night without the best part.” Ben giggled at their daughter’s excitement.

Maddie poked her head in, holding several leashes. “I’ll be back in a bit. I think the Pokemon want to go outside for a bit.” Her beautiful Furfrou strode in to brace against her leg and whine at her for attention.

“Be careful, alright? It’s really hot still.” Ben forewarned. “Almost couldn’t garden today, it was so hot.”

Helen nodded in agreement. Only her precious Dawn and Fintan’s Talos hadn’t been affected by the heat, but the rest of the Pokemon including dear little Aiden were sluggish and bothered. The Audino could walk, certainly, but he preferred to let Damian carry him about when they were together. At the moment, the Pokemon sans Fifi were splashing in one of the kiddie pools meant for Kelvin and Helen, Talos the Beldum hovering out of reach of the water as Tesla the Shinx cooled off by sitting on a bag of ice cubes, seeing as he’d electrocute the water if he got in.

“I will be, don’t worry~!” Maddie chirped happily, her sundress swishing as she turned about. “I hope Aiden won’t starting crying again, though. He fusses so much when he’s too far from Damy.”

Ben sighed. “Did you forget how clingy Fifi was when you’ leave the room without? She’d howl until you came back and picked her up.”

“But she’s my baby.” Maddie scooped her puppy Pokemon up, Fifi licking her face happily and wagging her bow-covered tail as Maddie smothered her dark furred face with kisses.

Helen giggled as Ben turned back to dinner, grabbing the bowl that had the filling ready in a piping bag. “And dessert shall be that tasty gelato we made, and yes Saver you have to try it, I made a coffee section just for yo-ARRRRGH!” The bowl clanged on the floor as Ben clutched his head, static flying off his antenna.

“Dearest!” Joseph set Kelvin down in his seat, Helen as alarmed as her father and aunt as she hacked into Ben and found an outside source attempting to get in. She immediately tried to boot it out and cover the corner of the Network her mother had claim of - but found as soon as she turned to the second task, the signal was back!

Helen’s expression in the physical world was unnatural for a child’s face, teeth gritted like a dog ready to snarl. NO ONE hurt her Mama and got away with it. She hopped off the stool she’d been standing on and ran to her parents, Ben’s body limp in Joseph’s arms, and she withdrew a cord from her earcone and connected it to Ben’s, giving her a more direct and much stronger chance at defending him.

“What the he-” Lance’s cuss was cut short as he and Fintan dragged in an unconscious Damian. “They’re both under attack?!”

Maddie set Fifi down and helped to get Damian’s body into a chair, the Furfrou dancing about and whining loudly. “Helen, what’s wrong?!” Joseph asked as he watched his daughter flinch.

“They keep trying to get back in! I throw them out but they keep coming back!”

Ben and Damian were both twitching now, their headfins alight with static. “Oh, Benny, Damy!” Maddie had her hands over her mouth in horror. Helen normally was their best defense against anything trying to get at the Network.

“Sweetheart, pull away.”

Helen’s face contorted with horror as her optics moved to stare at her father’s grim expression. “But-! Mama-!”

“It won’t do either of them any good if you get hurt.” Joseph’s look softened as her own stare trembled. “And it would sadden your mother if you were hurt protecting him.”

Their daughter gazed at him for a moment before reluctantly withdrawing from Ben’s corner as well as Damian’s, noting that the signal latched on and began to stream data. Oh, if only she could just, just SLAP it away! Smack that awful signal away from her mother and uncle!

)-...Testing...Testing...Huh. This is a wider broadcast, why are- WHY THE HELL ARE THERE SO MANY UNITS?!-(

Joseph’s jaw dropped as a feminine voice suddenly broadcasted into the Network, Benedict and Damian coming back online simultaneously with convulsions. /-/Ma’am, whomever you are, language! There are little ones about!/-/

/-/Joey did you really just scold somebody who hacked into your wife about bad words./-/ Fintan’s physical face gave his brother a deadpan stare.

)-At least he’s got his priorities stra- THE HELL?! MY BENEMI’S MARRIED?!-(

Ben jumped. -/-Uhm...Yes?-/-

)-MY BABIES RAN OFF AND GOT MARRIED WITHOUT ME OH I DIDN’T GET TO GIVE MY CREATIONS AWAY PROPERLY-(

Damian’s jaw had dropped a bit. -/-...I’m...not married?-/-

)-I’LL MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A PROPER ONE SWEETIE-(

Joseph sighed. /-/Ma’am, you don’t need to type in all capitals we are reading you clearly./-/

)-Oh no, it’s speech-to-text.-(

On the Network, the data reformed into a visual of a screen, a woman’s face depicted on it.

“...M-MAMA?!” Helen gaped, looking from Ben and Damian’s shocked faces to the woman calmly shoving a huge lock of fluffy blue hair from her face, the rest cascading down from the back of her head from a ponytail.

The woman smirked, her doe brown eyes crinkling with glee. “And you even gave me grandchildren. Oh B-3, you were always my favorite~!”

“HOLD UP WHAT?!” Fintan yelled, flailing his arm.

The woman blinked, then threw back her head and laughed jovially. “Oh, where are my thoughts? Anodi Lemestra, nice to meet you all~!”

“And you are...Ben and Damian's creator?” Joseph asked cautiously; while she didn’t quite seem like a technician capable of creating a reploid...she certainly had some of Ben’s mannerisms.

Anodi pursed her lips. “Well, sort of?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I designed their physical bodies, systems 'n' all!”

“...I can believe it.” Ben deadpanned.

Damian looked to Lance for some sort of grounding in his confusion. “Is this really happening or am I still unconscious?”

“And your reason for contacting us in this manner?” Joseph asked Anodi as Lance only shrugged with his hands in the air, clearly already tired by the situation.

Anodi covered part of her face with her hand, half hiding a sheepish grin. “Okay so believe me, a call over the phone would've been my ideal way, but well, can't exactly use a payphone when you're not sure if your creations are safe to be contacted.”

"...Safe?” Ben echoed with a raised eyebrow.

The human gave him a concerned frown. “Sweetie, the project was /shut down/. The fact that Marcus managed to convince me and a couple others to help smuggle you out and reprogram you as civilian units was a miracle.”

“Marcus???” Ben bleated.

Anodi facepalmed. “Christ how much did he friggen’ wipe?! He was only supposed to wipe the failed programming, not the memory files!”

As she agonized abut how ‘those guys were so useless!’ Joseph isolated his Corner while directing his brothers to do the same. /-/...We need more data./-/

/-/What program was shut down? We need to do some research into it./-/ Lance raised immediately.

Fintan’s contribution was flat. /-/Eh, bring them both in./-/

/-/WHAT?!/-/ Both Joseph and Lance gaped at their brother like he was crazy.

Fintan put up his hands to calm them. /-/Hear me out! If we keep them in a wireless blackhole, with no communications to the outside, we can isolate them and go over whatever information they have./-/

/-/...We have an isolate computer system that they can use as well.../-/ Joseph conceded.

Lance made a punching motion. /-/And we can handle the physical aspects of security with our drones./-/

Anodi had noticed Maddie and was grinning at her. “So they got smart and made a nurse model eh? About bloody time! You’re a pretty design too~ So who gets to boast about you, hm? What’re your areas of expertise?”

“Oh I wasn’t made like my brothers, I was made by magic!” Maddie responded chipperly, clearly won over by the praise.

Anodi gave her a bemused smile. “C’mon, for real, you can let me know. I was against that dumb order they gave, I always had a fondness for the Lifesaver series y’know. And you’re fam, if you’re the one my B3′s married to.”

“SAVER IS MY HUSBAND, MADDIE IS MY SISTER!” Ben yelped, pointing at Joseph.

The human chortled. “So lively~! Alright alright, well.” Anodi blinked. “...THAT MEANS I HAVE OTHER KIDS TO SPOIL TOO!” As she resumed gushing, Damian staggered a little, ‘sitting down’ with a weary look.

"Before this spirals completely out of control, proper introductions are in order.” Joseph said when he saw the Benemi’s energy level. Damian was definitely an introvert compared to his brother, something that gave Joseph a sympathetic connection to the other Navigator.

Ben called for their son. “Kelbee! C'mere~!” The youngest Caduceus popped into view, having been hid behind his sister’s Corner, and ‘ran’ over to them to latch onto his sister.

Anodi was holding her own face with a dropped jaw, eyes sparkling as Joseph picked up the children. “This is our son, Kelvin. You've met our little girl, Helen.”

“The one who kept launching me out? She's a good hacker~” Anodi praised with a grin that reminded Helen exactly of Ben’s roguish smile, her eyes getting wide with the epiphany.

Ben rubbed the back of his head as Joseph placed Kelvin in his arm. “Well, uh, she kinda gets triggered when I get hacked.” The Navigation unit uttered uneasily as he avoided Anodi’s horrified gaze.

“...When you 'GET hacked'?! Are you saying you've been hacked before?!”

Ben ducked his head, face beet colored as he continued avoiding looking at anyone in embarrassment. “Uhm...acoupletimesyeah.” He bleated out as she facepalmed.

“Sweetie this is why you use protection.”

Ben proceeded to choke in horror. “MOTHER!” He yelled in a scandalized voice, Lance and Fintan sniggering.

“Ah-! Did you notice that Kelvin and Helen are both bioroids?” Joseph brought up, rescuing his wife in distress much to Ben’s relief.

Anodi grinned again. “I was just about to bring it up! Who designed them?”

"ER...” Joseph floundered for a moment. “Well, Helen's body was crafted myself with assistance from my brothers...”

Anodi’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You? You did that work?! How'd you get that level of skill?!” She asked, doing the same bouncing motion with her shoulders that Ben did when he was excited, and just wasn’t that so odd, to look at his wife’s human creator and see so much in common?

"I've been doing a /lot/ of research.” Joseph replied with a chuckle, put more at ease now.

She nodded with a serious frown, and her lips twisted at the left corner, Ben smiling a bit as he knew he’d made that face a lot. “I'll bring my files over. We MUST share.”

“Creator Lemestra, if I may ask-” Damian began to speak, halting as she chimed in ’Just 'Anodi' or 'Mum's fin, sweetling’, to which he gained a disturbed look that clearly depicted his feelings about that. “...Miss Anodi, where is this other creator you mentioned?”

The human woman shrugged. “Marcus? Eh, who knows?” She made a vague gesture with her hand.

"That's a /pretty important/ detail.” Lance stated flatly.

She sighed. “No, really. Who knows? I don't.” Anodi switched her posture to lean on her elbow. "After we managed to get the boys fixed up for civilian life, we all went our separate ways and lost contact in case the idiots in power looked into our neck of the woods too deeply." She waved her hand towards Ben and Damian, who was starting to recover with Maddie standing next to him and helping him with some positive pulses. “I returned to one of our testing sites to make sure the data was all gone when I found B3 and B2's signals online.”

“Hmm, well, if you found this data, then maybe he'll get curious as well.” Fintan brought up.

Anodi hummed in thought. “It's possible, but I was shocked to see their signals since B1's went offline a long time ago.” Ben suddenly gulped audibly, wearing an uneasy and upset look that made Damian frown and move to be by his brother’s side.

“...Dearest?” Joseph ventured as he placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder. He knew that look. That look meant bad things were going on in his wife’s head.

Ben’s look of unease only deepened as he lowered his gaze to his feet. “...I thought that Damian was offline too...but he wasn't after all.” He leaned into Joseph’s hand for comfort.

“Huh?” Anodi blinked.

Ben was quiet a moment, before his voice came out as softly as Damian tended to speak. “I was aware of B1 going offline.” Anodi blanched, wearing an expression that perfectly conveyed the utterance ‘ohshit’. “Damian's signal had faded off my radar, so I thought he was gone too.” The B3 unit added, Damian going to hug his brother to reassure Ben.

"Please come here with your information. We need to discuss this, and this should be discussed in person.” Joseph nodded to Anodi.

The human ruffled her hair with a sigh. “I'll be able to get there in a week or so. Gotta destroy this place after I've got all the data and I'm still rusty at making a decent bomb.”

“You're blowing it up?!” Ben gawked, no longer troubled by his mental worries since now he could be troubled by his apparently mental mother.

Anodi grinned. “Well I've set it up to delete everything after the download but it's better to be safe than sorry~!” She flashed a V-sign at them as if they were discussing a picnic.

“We also need to discuss some ground rules for our home.” Joseph deadpanned with an incredibly dry tone.

Anodi bit her lips and inflated her cheeks, pouting the same manner Ben did which was insanely odd for them to see. “Hey! I don't go blowing up EVERY supercomputer containing highly classified documents on illegal projects!”

“...The idea that she's our creator is starting to sink in and I want to reject it.” Damian finally spoke.

#[[ic nonstarter post]]#[[Anodi is literally my favorite parent of Ben's ever]]#[[Marcus is second favorite. He's the precious one #but Anodi can kick your ass and make you thankful for her doing so]]

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dcfluff · 7 years

Text

Technicolour Beat

A Dean/Cas Fluff-fest fic by @cenedrariva ao3

It was early enough that the sun wasn’t quite risen yet. Dean blinked up at the ceiling, stretching and only half-awake. Beside him, a lingering warmth still clung to the sheets. Soft footfalls padded away from the room towards the other side of the house.

Dean didn’t move to get up, preferring to lounge lazily across the bed. His absent companion’s scent still clung to the pillows, and though Dean would never in a million years admit it to Sam or anyone else, he was absolutely the type to go a little sappy and bury his face in his lover’s pillow.

It was the quiet sounds of the kitchen radio that finally roused him enough to get up. Pulling on a shirt against the morning chill, Dean made a quick stop at the bathroom before wandered into the kitchen to find Cas, drowsily making coffee. He walked over, wrapping Cas in an embrace, tucking his face into Cas’s shoulder. Cas hummed in appreciation, pressing back into Dean.

Dean could practically hear Cas’s smile as he spoke.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey.”

“Coffee?”

“Sometimes you’re a real angel.”

Cas snorted, passing over a mug. Dean, still wrapped around him, freed one hand to take it. No way was he letting go of Cas this early, even for coffee.

“The amazing part is how you still think that’s funny.”

“Hey, I’m hilarious.”

“I’d use the word deluded, but alright.”

“Fuck off,” Dean laughed out.

“Fuckin’ rude. And after I made you coffee.”

Dean only wiggled his eyebrows, taking a long drink. Cas rolled his eyes, hiding a smile behind his own mug as he turned to face Dean.

The early dawn light lit up the room with a pinkish glow, making everything look soft and unreal. Dean leaned back, eyes tracing over Cas all sleep-rumpled. He was human looking, hair a mess and slouching back against the counter and dressed in no more than an old shirt of Dean’s and a pair of boxers, but he so much more than that too. Grace and light and energy, a storm – a star! – all folded into this small body with only invisible wings left trailing out, and he still drank coffee every morning like an addict. He slept in Dean’s bed every night like it was a luxury, stealing the duvet every time and hell it was so perfect Dean didn’t even care.

God, Dean loved him so much.

Cas took another sip, arching one eyebrow above a smirk as he studied Dean right back.

“You’re looking hungry, Dean,” he said, voice far too innocent. “I could make you some toast?”

“’s’real generous of you, sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t get too used to it.”

“With your cooking, I don’t wanna get used to it.”

“Asshole. I’m not that bad.”

“You burnt an omelette so bad we needed a new pan once.”

“Only because you were distracting me.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Dean, why in the world would I complain about you blowing me?”

“What can I say? You’re tasty, baby.”

“Likewise. The pan catching fire is still your doing.”

“Not my fault your grace goes all wonky when you get a happy ending.”

“Your attempt at projecting innocence is both laughable and obnoxious.”

“I’m adorable.”

Dean was already in Cas’s space, but he leaned in closer, putting his drained mug down before crowding him against the counter. His hands found Cas’s waist, slipping under the shirt to brush across bare skin. Cas, still smirking, placed his own empty mug to the side before smoothing both hands up Dean’s chest and onto his shoulders. His thumb rubbed slowly at the skin of his jaw, drawing Dean closer until their lips touched.

“Again, not the word I’d use, but-“

Dean silenced him with another kiss, and another. Slow. Soft. Cas tasted like coffee, more bitter than Dean liked but he didn’t care because beneath that he could taste that light bright buzzing that was Cas’s grace. The real Cas, not just his vessel. Cas hummed, shifting until they were pressed closely together from chest to hips. Dean felt Cas’s wings as they moved forwards to envelop him, a barely there sensation of pressure and static. The kiss stayed languid as Dean grinded against him a little, just to hear Cas groan. Sure, they were both horny, but there was no rush. This was good too, just enjoying each other’s company.

Dean had never imagined it would be like this. That things could be this good. Half the time, he was convinced it was all another djinn dream. He knew it wasn’t. No way could he have this. No way did he deserve it. But, hey, he was selfish enough not to question his good luck.

Two years ago, Lucifer had been walking the earth, causing havoc. Angels and demons alike had been hunting them. Sam was fighting an addiction to demon blood and Bobby had been in a wheelchair. Cas had been slowly losing his powers, turning more human every day, and Dean had been trying desperately just to keep everyone alive and safe.

Now, things were different. Better. So much fucking better.

They weren’t even really kissing now, just breathing each other in. Cas was warm beneath his hands, vibrant and alive. Dean could pick out hundreds of shades of blue within his eyes.

The music changed, and Dean found himself grinning, something happy and silly growing in his chest. Reaching up, he took Cas’s hands, stepping back into the centre of the room. Cas followed, a questioning tilt to his head, eyes shining with amusement.

Slowly, Dean began to shift to the beat, not so much dancing as swinging their arms together and dragging Cas to follow his movements. Cas looked close to laughing, which only made Dean’s grin wider, and he exaggerated his movements in response, wriggling his shoulders and shimmying his hips until Cas snorted out, covering his face with one hand in a vain attempt to stifle his sniggering. Stepping closer, Cas lifted their joined hands until Dean twirled, following the lyrics of the song. Dean stumbled as he came out of the spin, dragging Cas closer again and they were both laughing now. Slipping an arm around his waist, Dean led Cas in some terrible imitation of a waltz, rocking back and forth as they shuffled around the kitchen, bumping into the table and the counter on the way. Dean even tried lowering Cas into a dip, and the angel played along, throwing one leg into the air and throwing them both off balance.

As the song ended, they were a little calmer, swaying slowly as the song came to a close. Cas still looked about a second away from laughing. A faint glow was coming from his cheeks, almost imperceptible in the morning light but definitely there beneath his skin. Dean traced his thumb across it, nearly reverent. That glow was the real Cas, Castiel the angel, shifting and singing beneath the skin of his vessel, the Cas that was so bright and holy he would burn out Dean’s eyes. It seemed impossible that this celestial being could even take notice of little ol’ Dean, all human and imperfections, let alone love him.

Because Cas did love him. Dean could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. Cas would whisper it against his skin when they lay in bed together, bite it out against his lips when a hunt went by and Dean had been in danger.

Dean didn’t question it. Cas deserved better, he deserved so much better than a battered part-time hunter, but if it was Dean he wanted he certainly wasn’t gonna tell him no. Because this way, Dean got to have Cas too, and he couldn’t think of a better person to fall in love with.

“You’re glowing again.” Dean whispered, pressing a kiss to Cas’s cheek. Cas hummed, ducking to hide his face as the glow got brighter.

“You’re imagining things.”

“I’m not, you always glow when you’re really happy.”

“And why would I be happy, here?”

Dean kissed the top of Cas’s head, one hand trailing down his back as he shuffled closer.

“Maybe ‘cause a gorgeous guy is all wrapped around you?”

“Certainly not a humble guy.”

“What do I got to be humble about? I’m awesome.”

The air behind Cas shimmered slightly, something that could easily just be the sunlight picking out dust motes. Dean knew it was something more, his eyes tracing eagerly across the arching shapes. There were three pairs, all moving slowly and fluidly as if they were absorbing energy from the sun. Cas’s wings, only ever visible like this or as dark silhouettes picked out by grace-fire.

“Maybe you’re all happy, ‘cause this gorgeous guy loves you.”

“Nah. It’s definitely from watching your attempt at dancing.”

“You saying I can’t go professional?”

“Pretty much. It was awful.”

“Bastard. Say that to my face.”

Cas, still grinning, lifted his head to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Your dancing was awful.”

Dean kissed him. Cas sighed into the kiss, following it with another. In the background, the radio switched over to the 6 am broadcast, a far too energetic host beginning to chatter about the news.

“We’re going to be late at this rate.”

“Sammy won’t mind.”

“You’re the one who wanted to drive. I’m not flying us across the country just so you can be lazy.”

“Ah, fine.”

Cas hummed, making no move to disentangle them, the hypocrite. His glowing began to fade a little before the brightening sunlight, but it was still there, illuminating his eyes from within.

It was the rumbling of Dean’s stomach that finally separated them. Dean rolled his eyes, stepping away to check the fridge. Cas turned back to the coffee machine, probably to make a new batch. If he was human, Cas’s coffee addiction would be a serious problem.

They managed to leave by around 7:30, heading out from their secluded house on the edge of Lebanon, Kansas, for San Francisco. Turns out Sam missed the big city life, or something. He was all set up now, taking classes part-time to get him back up to scratch after five years out of the system, and working as a computer tech the rest of the time. That job was how he met Charlie, a computer genius and a complete nerd who Dean had practically adopted as a little sister. Sam still ran hunts sometimes, couldn’t stay away, but tended to stick to the west coast area, along with his hunter girlfriend Eileen.

Things had been a bit more complicated for Dean.

After Lucifer was slam-dunked back into the Cage by Death – turns out nothing pissed the horseman off more than attempts to control him, who knew? – they’d both been a bit lost. With Azazel dead and Lilith dead, there was no one left to get revenge on, which wasn’t a bad thing of itself but it did settle a lot of the anger that drove them to hunt. Gabriel had shown up in time to give Lucifer the finger, before flying upstairs to have a go at Michael. Everything had been tense for a few weeks before Cas got a call. Turns out Gabe had managed to talk some sense into his dick brothers, and they were putting an indefinite halt on Armageddon. Cas’s powers were restored in full, and before he headed back up to Heaven he made sure Bobby got his legs healed. Finally.

There was nothing really keeping them from living a normal life.

Except when were things ever that simple? Hunters didn’t get out of the life – they didn’t settle down or have families. Even if they managed to kill whatever brought them into the life, most couldn’t leave knowing innocent people were out there getting killed. Dean certainly couldn’t just sit back and ignore the poor suckers.

Bobby saw things different. With Ellen and Jo practically moving into his house, he saw no reason why either of the brothers couldn’t at least try to make a life for themselves, hunting or not. Dean had to admit he had a point, but mostly because the house was getting a little crowded, even with Ellen and Bobby sharing a bed.

The thing was, Dean hadn’t known where to start. He was a high-school drop out with loads of skill at semi-legal ways of making money, but not a single marketable skill besides fixing cars. Turns out these days, they wanted a certificate even for that. He was good at organising stuff, and charismatic enough to do anything that involved talking to people (his brief role in Sandover’s marketing team had proved that, thank you Zachariah) but the idea of working in an office again just wasn’t him. Besides, it would be a lot harder to duck out and take care of a quick hunt while working somewhere with regular hours.

Sam had suggested Dean try things with Lisa again, but honestly Dean wasn’t too fond of the idea. What sort of guy turns up out of nowhere and just asks to be part of your life? Dean couldn’t just leave his baggage at the door, he knew he was a little fucked up after everything, and Lisa deserved better than that. Besides, being with her would mean giving up hunting completely, and Dean just couldn’t do that. He couldn’t bring that home to her.

What it all came down to was Dean didn’t know how to do normal.

And then Cas came back.

Honestly Dean had never expected to see the dorky little guy again. To say he was thrilled was an understatement. Dean didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but Cas had managed to get onto Dean’s unfortunately short list of friends and loved ones, and seeing him fly up to Heaven to never return had been harder than expected. Honestly, Dean hadn’t taken it too well at all, but that hadn’t stopped him from sending prayers up to Cas. Just updates about life, really. Sam getting accepted to school again. Jo meeting a guy who appreciated her knife collection. Ellen failing to scare the guy off when Jo announced she was dating him. Stuff like that.

Now Cas was back, and apparently for good. Turns out after hanging around Heaven for a few months, he’d managed to get himself “demoted” to guardian of the Winchester line as punishment for his rebellion. Gabriel had sent him to Earth to think about his actions and repent, or some shit, and he was forbidden to return to Heaven until Dean and Sam had both died. Dean had to admit, on occasion he liked Gabe’s sense of humour.

And maybe Dean still didn’t know what to do with his life, with Sam and Bobby and Ellen and Jo all moving on with things, but his best friend was back and the guy was even more clueless than Dean. Bobby had had enough, though. There just wasn’t the room at his house to have three extra houseguests hanging around all the time, even if one of them never slept. He’d practically thrown them all out, sending them on a road trip to “find their own goddamn house, idjits, and stop sleeping on his couch like a couple o’ freeloaders”. Dean didn’t take it too harshly.

After travelling for around a month, sorting out a few demon hunts (blessing an entire town’s water supply was a genius move) and fixing Cas up with his own proper fake ids, Sam decided it was time to move back to California and get settled before the new term started.

Dean dropped him off at a small place in San Francisco a few weeks later, after a send-off at Bobby’s of course. This time, both brothers swore to keep in touch.

Travelling around with just Cas was different somehow. Of course, Dean knew why now, but back then he’d still been a little naïve when it came to crushing on guys. He would have sworn he admired Dr Sexy for how good he was with the ladies, rather than admit maybe he liked the idea of making out with the sexy doctor in an elevator. Or admit that maybe Dr Sexy began to morph a little in Dean’s mind until he had short wild hair and vibrant blue eyes with a voice low enough it did funny things to Dean’s insides.

It had been a very good time, those first few months with Cas, driving across the country, trying to convince him to try as much human stuff as possible. There had been loads of firsts. First burger. First milkshake. First cinema trip. First time wearing clothing that wasn’t a suit and trench coat. First time driving.

Cas’s first kiss wasn’t with Dean, unfortunately. By then, she had been drunker than was probably appropriate, but she’d been flirting all night and Dean had nudged Cas towards her. Flirting was a useful skill for any hunter, after all, and Cas could be far too blunt. The kiss was unexpected, the girl launching herself onto Cas’s lap and practically assaulting his mouth. Luckily her friend was a bit more sober, and guided her away when it was clear Cas wasn’t into it.

Dean had spent the rest of the night complaining about lost opportunities. It was clear Cas deserved to have an awesome kiss, and that had not been it. It was only when Dean realised he’d been imagining teaching Cas kissing technique until they were both breathless that Dean realised he had a bit of a crush on Cas. Which had been awkward. Cas, of course, was none the wiser to his midnight revelation.

After a few days of trying to convince Cas to try flirting again, Dean gave up. If one bad kiss was enough to turn the obstinate angel from the idea of kissing, then Dean wasn’t going to force him. The upside was that Dean didn’t have to watch him sucking face with anyone else. The downside being Cas’s obvious disappointment at the idea of failing when it came to human courtship rituals, as he called them.

It all became moot after their next hunt anyway. It had been a bad one, the creature some sort of dog spirit gone vicious. Dean still wasn’t the best at dealing with large dogs after his run-in with Lilith’s hellhounds, and he had frozen at the wrong moment. Cas had got him out of the way, but it turned out pissed-off Japanese dog spirits were enough to actually harm an angel when normal weapons didn’t. Dean had been ready to leap back into the fight before he realised Cas had calmed the damn mutt down. Apparently, some hunter had attacked it out of nowhere, managing to chop off its leg and sending the dog into a rampage. It hadn’t actually meant to hurt anyone, and hadn’t killed a single soul, so Cas set the thing free after easing its pain a little.

Dean had learned later that spirit dogs like it tended to act as guardians against other supernatural stuff, and the inexperienced hunter had managed to mistake it for the werewolf the dog had already taken care of. It was a weird hunt.

In that moment, though, full of angry worry and adrenaline, Dean had grabbed Cas close and kissed him full on the mouth. Cas had jerked back almost immediately, eyes wide and startled, his blush visible even in the low light from the nearby warehouse, his fingers coming up to trace his lips. A second later, and the angel was gone, flying away. Dean had felt like an idiot.

At least until he got back to the hotel room an hour later. Cas had appeared within seconds of Dean entering the room, pressing Dean against the door as his lips made an unskilled but enthusiastic assault on Dean’s mouth. Dean had gotten with the program pretty quickly, guiding the angel until his technique was practically flawless, even spinning around to press Cas into the wall at some point. Cas had really liked that.

So that was how Dean found out Cas had been nursing a crush on him too, since at least that awful time back when they got kicked out of the brothel. Cas just hadn’t imagined Dean would ever like him back, having shown a preference almost entirely for girls and exclusively for humans. That had been an awesome couple of weeks, filled with a whole different list of firsts.

That had been a year ago now, last summer. The house, settling down, finding a legit form of making money, all that had come later.

Dean looked over to where Cas sat beside him in the Impala. Cas was staring out of the window, a gentle smile on his face as he watched the scenery go by. It was a 25 hour drive to get to Sam’s place, so Dean was planning on stopping at this great diner he remembered from a small town in the middle of Utah. They had some of the best home-made pie of any place he’d ever been.

Cas caught him watching, his smile growing wider as he took Dean’s free hand. Yeah, there were some times Dean couldn’t believe his life. That they had all lived through the actual fucking Apocalypse. That Sam was training to be a bigshot lawyer again, with a steady girlfriend. That Dean’s best friend was an angel. That said best friend was living with him, would stay with him literally his whole life, whether it was hunting or domestic. That he and Cas loved each other.

Screw normal. Life was awesome. They’d work out the details later.

#dcfluff #submission 2017 #cenedrariva #canon fluff #domestic fluff #everyone lives fluff #dancing fluff #banter fluff #deancas fluff #destiel fluff #submission

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Radio Abel, Season Four

Part 3 of 6

ZOE CRICK: And we've still heard nothing from Baz and Domhnall?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Not a peep.

ZOE CRICK: Damn it!

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Mmhmm. Uh, but don't worry, citizens. We have been picking up some other broadcasts, and there's one me and Zoe think you might enjoy.

ZOE CRICK: Seems disloyal, though, doesn't it? To Baz and Domhnall?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Well, it's not like they knew we were listening. And you like Eloise. You said she sounded like a kindred spirit.

ZOE CRICK: Eloise is pretty cool.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: And Hugh's great, too. Now, you're going to love them, listeners, we promise. They're travelling around the country -

ZOE CRICK: No spoilers.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Oh, okay. Well, stay tuned, and you'll find out all about Eloise and Hugh, right after this.

[static]

ELOISE: Is that better?

HUGH: There's still some interference, Eloise!

ELOISE: Well, then, stop and let me down, Hugh.

HUGH: I can't quite at the moment, my love.

ELOISE: Stop the van, you [?]. I'll drag the aerial right off the roof.

HUGH: You know I can deny you nothing, but that zom we saw, it phoned a friend! Now there's two fast ones got our scent, and they're gaining! I can't slow down!

ELOISE: If you go any faster, I'll fall off!

HUGH: I've opened the window. Can you do a Dukes of Hazzard?

ELOISE: Are you having a laugh? I'm 53!

HUGH: Now would be a good time! [ELOISE climbs in through window] Handled like a ballerina.

ELOISE: Next time, we check the bloody bushes before I climb up there. I found the problem. It was a zombie foot wedged into the aerial mount. Look! How'd a foot get onto our roof?

HUGH: Uh... maybe you should throw it out the window. With the contamination and the blood and all.

ELOISE: Oh Hugh, you're a big wuss, aren't you? Wait! That light's on. Are we transmitting? Did you hit transmit?

HUGH: Uh, I was trying to change the air conditioning.

ELOISE: Turn it off. Turn it off!

ELOISE: Hello!

HUGH: Hello.

ELOISE: I'm Eloise, and this is Hugh.

HUGH: Hello.

ELOISE: Yes, Hugh. Thank you. And thank you, the listener, for tuning in to our first show. We are travellers voyaging through the wild isles of zombie Britain in our faithful Volkswagen camper van.

HUGH: It's a Type 2.

ELOISE: Thank you, Hugh.

HUGH: With everyone dead, I thought we'd get a [?], but they're no good in the winter. And quite frankly, they're a bit slow for eluding the undead.

ELOISE: Yes, Hugh. But we were going to introduce the show.

HUGH: Oh yeah. Now, I used to be a postman, see, and I've still got my keys. So I can get into every postbox in Britain.

ELOISE: And I'm a telecomms engineer. So we've lashed a transmitter on the roof, and I've rigged up some relay stations along the road. We thought we'd do a show, to pass the time, and as a public service, you see, and we thought, "What did we used to like?"

HUGH: It was that show on Radio Stafford with that lady who answered your personal problems, Lucy Lockjaw.

ELOISE: Lucy Lockhart. Our idea is, we'll be your travelling agony aunt and uncle, bringing you wisdom from the road, and advice from the heart. So if you've got a problem, write a letter to Hugh and Eloise, and just pop it in the postbox. Everywhere we visit, we'll check all the boxes, and if your letter's there, we'll try to help! We're waiting to hear from you. And in the meantime, here's some music to keep you going. [audio clicks]

That went well, didn't it? I thought that went well.

HUGH: You didn't press it right. It's still going.

ELOISE: Oh, shit!

ELOISE: Well, a lot has happened since we last did a show. We've been coming up from the lake district, a lovely place to settle! Apart from all the zoms.

HUGH: All that moisture's hell on the axles.

ELOISE: If we were going to settle, we wouldn't do it in a camper van, now, would we? That would kind of defeat the porpoise.

HUGH: You mean purpose.

ELOISE: That's what I said.

HUGH: No. You said porpoise, like a dolphin.

ELOISE: Why would I want to defeat a dolphin?

HUGH: I don't know. You were the one who said it.

ELOISE: You always do this! You know fine well what I mean, but you pick up on a slip of the tongue and try to make me sound stupid. Any reasonable person would just take it as I meant!

HUGH: It's my Royal Mail training. When you read an address, see, you can't just guess what you think the customer meant. You have to deliver it exactly what it says on the letter!

ELOISE: Exactly where it says on the letter.

HUGH: It says it on the front.

ELOISE: There you go again. You are a pedant, Hugh Caulfield.

HUGH: Well, they never gave me a bike.

ELOISE: You're just making fun of me now.

HUGH: I might be, my love. But just remember, you're the one I voyage with every day through this cruel world.

ELOISE: Yeah, and I know where you sleep. Where did I put that zombie foot?

ELOISE: Good afternoon. I'm driving today because Hugh is busy opening your mail.

HUGH: Where'd we put them scissors?

ELOISE: They're in one of those boxes back there. Now, as you remember, we're here to answer your questions, like the agony aunt and uncle you've been deprived of since the zombie apocalypse. The idea is, if you've got a problem, whether it be about relationships, or careers, or health, or just everyday zombie matters, you write it down in your best handwriting and pop it in the postbox, addressed to Hugh and Eloise. And when we come to your town, we'll pick it up and offer you some confidential advice. Just listen in on this frequency.

HUGH: It won't be confidential, will it? If it's on the radio.

ELOISE: Well, it'll be anonymous, then.

HUGH: Yeah, but if we read a letter by Jane from Carlisle, it's going to be obvious who it is, right? I mean, there aren't many people left in Carlisle. Even less called Jane.

ELOISE: We'll use a fake name, won't we?

HUGH: Then how will they know it's their question?

ELOISE: Strike me down! They'll know because they'll hear it, won't they? They'll recognize the words, Hugh.

HUGH: Oh yeah.

ELOISE: So, have we got any first questions today?

HUGH: I'm soryr, Eloise. It's just the usual bills and charity stuff. There's this one package someone is returning to a website called Happy Tools.

ELOISE: Might be something you can use for the van.

[packaging tears]

HUGH: Oh. Oh, um....

ELOISE: What is it? Oh! My goodness!

HUGH: It might keep you happy, dear.

ELOISE: I... well, uh, well, maybe we could keep it.

HUGH: Oh, hang on. It's been used.

ELOISE: Ugh! Oh, throw it out the window. Throw it out the window!

ELOISE: People like you are why kids don't read!

[gunshots, glass shatters]

HUGH: Bugger. There goes another one. It's not the repair I hate, it's picking the little bits of glass out of my vegetables.

ELOISE: Well, she was a cranky lady.

HUGH: Nobody likes being called a fascist, dear. Not even a fascist bookseller.

ELOISE: Oh, really! What did she think we were, zombies driving about in a purple camper van? The hungry dead come to get their decaying hands on the latest Inspector Wexford?

HUGH: Well, possibly she's had previous experience with bloodthirsty raiders.

ELOISE: Bloodthirsty raiders come to pillage the largest secondhand book selection in Dumfries and Galloway? Oh, talk sense, Hugh.

HUGH: Bloodthirsty readers, then.

ELOISE: I'll bloodthirst you in a minute.

HUGH: Maybe save the pillow talk until we're off the air, my love.

ELOISE: Oh, I forgot about you and your vampire thing. [clears throat] This is an announcement for anybody requiring our services in the vicinity of Wigtown. I'm sorry to say we are unable to access the postbox because some nutter is on the roof of a bookshop, blazing away with a dangerous firearm. Yeah, that means you, lady! Get over yourself!

HUGH: We'll be around again, one day.

ELOISE: That's right, folks. You hang in there with your romantic dilemma or your baby turning gray. We'll be around again and we promise to respond to your letter in what, two years or so?

HUGH: Providing the van doesn't break down.

ELOISE: So um, just hang in there.

HUGH: Once again, I'm denied a chance to pick up the final Dick Francis.

ELOISE: Dick Francis? You only read him because you thought it gave you an edge at the bookies.

HUGH: You know what's coming up? Alloway, birthplace of Robert Burns, the Ploughman Poet, known the world over. I picked up a leaflet at the last place. It says, "His national pride, fierce egalitarianism, and quick wit have become synonymous with the Scottish national character." You can see the cottage where he was born and everything! Do you want to go?

ELOISE: Nah. You?

HUGH: Nah. Place'll be heaving with tourists.

ELOISE: [laughs] That's one good thing about the collapse of civilization.

HUGH: No tourists?

ELOISE: No poets.

HUGH: There's bound to be some bastard in one of them fortress towns knocking out free verse.

ELOISE: Doing readings to people who know it's either that, or be torn to bits by the undead outside.

HUGH: Hang on, here's a postbox. [parks van, opens door]

ELOISE: Any luck?

HUGH: No. Must have been empty when the plague hit. [starts van]

ELOISE: I really thought we'd get letters.

HUGH: We will, love. Give it time. It's only been a few weeks.

ELOISE: Deep down, I kind of knew we wouldn't.

HUGH: I know something to cheer you up! We're approaching Prestwick.

ELOISE: No!

HUGH: 100%! Prestwick Airport, the only piece of British soil upon which Elvis ever walked. And I am to know that there are no flights scheduled this afternoon, so if you're very good, I'll knock down the gate and take you on a tour of the runway.

ELOISE: Hugh Caulfield, you are the greatest man who ever walked this earth! Except Elvis, maybe.

HUGH: I'll take that.

ELOISE: If you've been listening to us for a while now, perhaps you've thought, "Yeah! I should get on the road like Hugh and Eloise and live the life of a free spirit!" But if you're thinking of leaving your nice, safe, gated community, hold your horses. It's not all picnics at sunrise and the fresh smell of pine after the rain. There's certain practical considerations.

HUGH: Any sign of them?

ELOISE: No, you're fine! Get on with it! In a camper van, your water supply is precious, and you need to preserve it. Okay, there's reservoirs and little streams, and of course, it pisses down every second day, but you try washing your smalls in an icy river come February, and frankly, a girl gets fed up of doing her big gypsy skirts in a basin the size of a grapefruit.

So every now and then, we make a special trip, and that's how we come to be parked outside the Chery Launderette. It's supposed to be the Cheery Launderette, but one of the E's has dropped off. Also, there's a lot of bloodstains in there.

Now, your average launderette don't work too well these days, what with there being no electricity. But we've got a little generator, and Hugh does some magic that only he can, so we get a couple of loads in. Well, to be honest, I could rig the same thing up easy, but who wants to spend their golden years doing electrics in launderettes? I swear - wait. Hugh! Get your ass in here!

HUGH: We're nearly at the spin cycle!

ELOISE: Sixteen shamblers incoming! Get in here!

HUGH: Oops.

ELOISE: Where's all my leggings?

HUGH: In the dryer.

ELOISE: Oh! And so, for a good half hour now, we'll be leading zoms into the suburbs until we can go back for our clothes and the genny. This is the harsh reality of life on the road.

HUGH: But it makes you smell so fresh.

ELOISE: Ah, zip it.

HUGH: Eloise, it's a very special day.

ELOISE: No, we didn't!

HUGH: I've got the letter right here.

ELOISE: No! Read it out. No, give it to me! No. Read it out. I'll drive. [starts van]

HUGH: "Dear Eloise –" Looks like this one's just for you. "Dear Eloise, it's Jasmina here. I heard you say that you are a telecomms engineer. I would like to learn that stuff so that I can help with the reconstruction of society, but how can I learn it now all the colleges have closed? Yours sincerely, Jasmina."

ELOISE: Good for you, Jasmina! We all need to find our place, and the more engineers we have, the quicker we'll get back on our feet. Before the zoms, you'd have been working on fiber and switches, setting up redundant networks and so on. But we're in a back to basics situation here. The old cables are still around, but there ain't the power to drive them, so radio makes more sense.

You don't say what age you are, but don't begin by trying to set up your own Rofflenet node. If you get stuck into the books to early, you'll maybe get bored. So go break into a toy shop or a craft shop and look for their electronics kits. Or the museum gift shop! Often, they've got a build your own radio. Follow the instructions, and try and understand how the circuit works. You can listen to our program on something you built yourself!

HUGH: Nice.

ELOISE: After that, you'll want your local library and a shop like Maplin or Radio Shack. Get a soldering iron and a suitcase worth of components. Build up the difficulty until you've done a transmitter, and then give us a call, all right?

HUGH: There's more on the back. "P.S. I am thinking of getting into Elvis, too. Can you recommend any records?"

ELOISE: Wait a minute. Let me see that. Do you think I'm daft, Hugh Caulfield? This is your handwriting.

HUGH: Uh...

ELOISE: Did you write this letter yourself?

HUGH: You wanted one so badly. I was just helping the process along.

ELOISE: You're a bloody twit. But I do love you.

ELOISE: Where are we?

HUGH: Inverkip.

ELOISE: Where's that?

HUGH: Under the ocean, it looks like.

ELOISE: I did suggest we take the other road instead up to the loch.

HUGH: Yeah, because up the hills, it didn't rain.

ELOISE: No need to take that tone.

HUGH: I wish we could find a good pub completely protected from zombie attack, so on a day like this, we could sit near the fire and get trollied.

ELOISE: A man of your ingenuity should be able to set up a pub inside a castle.

HUGH: All the good castles are taken.

ELOISE: You know that's the marina over there.

HUGH: What gave it away? All the boats?

ELOISE: You, Mister Crabby Esq., are missing the point. The owners of all these boats are most likely dead. We could have our pick. There's no reason we have to stay on land. You could load the bugger up with canned soup and lager and do what generations of weekend fisherman have done before you – sail out into the unknown waters and get wrecked. Of course, you would take that literally.

HUGH: Even in my cups, I'd be a responsible pilot.

ELOISE: Come on, let's check them.

HUGH: I think I saw a zombie on that one.

ELOISE: Really? You sure?

HUGH: Definitely. We'd better go before it smells us.

ELOISE: You just don't want to go out in the rain.

HUGH: Nothing to do with that, Eloise, nothing at all.

ELOISE: Hello. We're in some godawful bed and breakfast on the outskirts of Glasgow. I've moved the whole broadcast rig inside so we can bring you our program today, which is #2 in our occasional series: Why life on the road after the zombie apocalypse is not like the great music festivals of your youth.

HUGH: I got a bit of flu.

ELOISE: As you can perhaps hear, my handsome co-presenter is a little under the weather, as I came to realize when he nearly drove us into a hedge yesterday.

HUGH: It wasn't a hedge! It was barely a bush!

ELOISE: Camper vans are not optimized for illness. I could have made a bed for him in the back, if I'd been willing to ditch three weeks of food or 800 miles worth of petrol. [HUGH sneezes] Thank you, Hugh. Under these circumstances, a small hotel or a B&B is a good choice. They often had vacant rooms when all went to hell, so you can find somewhere clean to sleep without scraping up infected remains. And crucially, they often have private parking with a gate that locks.

HUGH: The pay-per-view's rubbish these days.

ELOISE: The what?

HUGH: The breakfast. It's the breakfast.

ELOISE: Of course, it's always on our mind that one of us might get seriously ill. All the big settlements have doctors, but they don't all welcome new faces, particularly new faces who have any symptoms that might look even a little like the gray plague. You're as likely to get shot as to get an appointment, and good luck persuading them to send the doctor out.

HUGH: [?]

ELOISE: I have no idea what he is saying. My point is, you have to be your own GP and pharmacist now. My old doc always prescribed antibiotics and never anything else. So early on, we started raiding pharmacies for antibiotics. We took a small supply and left the rest.

As we travel around, we still look, but lately they've always been looted. So we save the antibiotics for the times it's really bad. We're not there yet, but these drugs have a shelf life. And as far as I know, nobody's making any more of them. [HUGH sneezes]

So the message is, eat as well as you can, give your body all the rest it needs, and if you approach a settlement, do not look like a zombie on the turn.

HUGH: [?]

ELOISE: Move over, you. We might as well treat this like a holiday.

HUGH: Eloise. Eloise!

ELOISE: What?

HUGH: We got one!

ELOISE: No!

HUGH: Look!

ELOISE: This better not be another one of your fake letters to make me feel better.

HUGH: I swear! Look! "Hugh and Eloise." It was on the top, totally fresh. No stamp or nothing.

ELOISE: And really nice handwriting, look at that! Fountain pen or something. Female hand.

HUGH: Well, open it.

ELOISE: I don't know.

HUGH: What?

ELOISE: I kind of want to savor it for a minute.

HUGH: It might be urgent.

ELOISE: Hugh, we've been broadcasting for three months about our agony aunt program without getting a single inquiry. How urgent could it be?

HUGH: So are you ready yet?

ELOISE: Where did we put the letter opener?

HUGH: Use your fingers, for God's sake.

ELOISE: We might want to save this one. Frame it or something.

HUGH: Open the damn envelope.

[paper tears and rustles]

ELOISE: Do you want to read it?

HUGH: No, no, you read it.

ELOISE: [clears throat] "Dear Hugh and Eloise..."

HUGH: Well, come on!

ELOISE: "Thank you for your show. Since I found it, I listen all the time. Sometimes life can be very grim, and I get a vicarious thrill from listening to your adventures up and down the country. Please keep going and broadcasting. Yours, Louise."

HUGH: Wow, that's nice. Lovely.

ELOISE: Yeah, but... but...

HUGH: What?

ELOISE: She didn't have a problem.

ZOE CRICK: "Dear Eloise and Hugh: I'm a tightly-wound control freak who'd prefer it if all human interaction was carefully scripted, not just my radio segments. I think jokes get funnier every time you tell them, and washing up my tea mugs is for other people.

Sometimes I nod off while Jack and Eugene are acting out scenes from Thelma and Louise for us, using all the voices. And then I like to pretend I haven't, even though I've been snorning incredibly loudly. Can you help me to be a better partner to my lovely cohost?"

PHIL CHEESEMAN: "Dear Eloise and Hugh: I think I'm so funny, I laugh at my own jokes, even when no one else is laughing. Sometimes I start laughing four hours later because I've just remembered my joke again. Sometimes I do this when my best friend is trying to tell me a very serious story about his mother.

I'm so anal that I rewash anything anything else has already washed up. Also, I've alphabetized all the novelty mugs. I've recently been pretending I'm extremely well-read, but actually I just found a stash of CliffsNotes at the back of the pantry, and I don't think anyone else has realized. Can you tell me how to be a better human being?"

HUGH: Well, this is all very picture-skew.

ELOISE: You know what that is? It's the Harry Potter viaduct!

HUGH: Eh?

ELOISE: The viaduct from the films.

HUGH: What, that bridge?

ELOISE: When it's got all those arches, you call it a viaduct.

HUGH: Why did he have a bridge?

ELOISE: Who?

HUGH: Harry Potter.

ELOISE: He didn't have a bridge.

HUGH: So they named it after him?

ELOISE: It's Victorian, you wazzock! How could they name it after Harry Potter?

HUGH: I thought maybe they changed it when the film came out. For the tourists, you know.

ELOISE: They call it the Harry Potter viaduct because his train goes along it in the films!

HUGH: Oh, I got you now. When they go to his castle?

ELOISE: Who's castle? Voldemort's?

HUGH: Harry Potter's castle.

ELOISE: He doesn't have a castle.

HUGH: He does! Where all the kids go and have the big dinner.

ELOISE: That's a school! Hogwarts Academy of Magic and Witchcraft.

HUGH: That explains why they're all wearing ties.

ELOISE: We watched all the films on the telly.

HUGH: That might be one of the times when you watched them and I caught up on my snoozing.

ELOISE: Unlike those gripping times when we watched the Three Stooges.

HUGH: All right, then. Let's go to his castle while we're in the area. You got the map. Where is it? What?

HUGH: This is from Alan. "Dear Hugh and Eloise, thank you for your program. We have built a little community up here on the banks of the Ness. On the whole, we get on fine, but we do have personal disputes from time to time over issues which might seem trivial to an outsider, that take on great importance with living in such close quarters. I am sure you know all about this." No, Alan. I can honestly say that despite living full-time in a camper van, Eloise and myself never disagree.

ELOISE: You bloody liar.

HUGH: Yes, dear. Alan says, "Lately, it has become something of a big deal to decide whether Inverness is in the northeast or the northwest." Well, Alan, we've got the map here, and we will tell you exactly where you live.

ELOISE: I'm looking at it right now. I can state quite definitely that you live in the northeast. I hope that helped.

HUGH: There you are, Alan. One of our easier – wait. Northeast? You must be looking at it sideways.

ELOISE: It's on the east coast! It can hardly be on the east coast and in the northwest, now, could it?

HUGH: That's not how you work it out. You find the center point of the country and draw a line due north. Then if it's on the left, it's northwest, and if it's on the right, it's northeast. Where would you say the center of the country is?

ELOISE: I don't know! Huddersfield.

HUGH: It's about 200 miles west of Huddersfield, so it's in the northwest.

ELOISE: By that same argument, the whole of Scotland's in the northwest.

HUGH: Well, it is.

ELOISE: When you're up here, you use the center of Scotland!

HUGH: Okay. Where's that?

ELOISE: Fort William. Inverness is clearly northeast of that.

HUGH: Fort William's on the west coast, so how can that be the center of Scotland?

ELOISE: You're not allowing for the Western Isles.

HUGH: Yeah, and if you include Shetland, Inverness is at the center. Don't listen to her, Alan. You're in the northwest.

ELOISE: Northeast!

HUGH: Northwest.

ELOISE: Northeast!

HUGH: Read one out.

ELOISE: Just drive.

HUGH: This lot's been after us for half an hour. I'm bored. Read one out.

ELOISE: Hugh, will you concentrate on saving our lives?

HUGH: Not unless you read a letter.

ELOISE: No! Now shut up.

HUGH: The pressure. It's getting on my nerves, it's making me slow down. If only there was something to distract me.

ELOISE: Hugh, I swear I'll do that thing to you that you don't like.

HUGH: Just read a letter, Eloise.

ELOISE: Right. Right! "Dear Hugh and Eloise." Speed up! "Dear Hugh and Eloise, I like someone and I think we could become a couple. Frankly, neither of us has many options these days, but when we get together, there's no spark. Can you suggest a way I can spice things up and see if she's at all interested? Thank you, Mandy."

HUGH: You're the relationship expert, my love.

ELOISE: Oh, no. You wanted to hear the letter. Let's hear your romantic solution.

HUGH: Well, Mandy, it's actually very simple. [ELOISE scoffs] Some of the big settlements have runners – people that go out on missions and gather supplies. Ask your prospective mate to come out with you on a zombie run. You may find that the sheer peril of roaming undead and the looming prospect of a hideous death will bring your hearts together in a way that simple words cannot.

ELOISE: And Mandy, if that load of crap don't happen, make sure that you can run faster than this other girl. After all, it's great to be single!

ELOISE: You know what you're going to find.

HUGH: I prefer to think positive.

ELOISE: It's going to be the same as the last twelve.

HUGH: My dear, you are a beautiful woman, a charming companion, and a considerate lover, as well as no mean driver when you put your mind to it. But right now, you are throwing off my karma something awful.

ELOISE: You just have to accept that it's a good idea and somebody had it before you. Somebody who lives closer with a bigger van.

HUGH: All that means is there's a stockpile somewhere.

ELOISE: Yeah, with armed guards.

HUGH: Armed, they may be. Sober, they may not be.

ELOISE: You think a raid by a middle-aged agony aunt and her painfully obsessive husband might succeed where others have failed?

HUGH: I was thinking stealth.

ELOISE: That's it ahead. Which one's this?

HUGH: Glen Spey. Not so well-known, see, but slap-bang in the middle of the heartland.

ELOISE: The gates are off the hinges.

HUGH: Think positive.

ELOISE: That's the warehouse. The doors are open. It's empty. Cleaned out, just like the others.

HUGH: Buggeration. I'm going to check the office. There might be a special bottle or two in a drawer.

ELOISE: No, you ain't. There's something moving up there, and it's gray!

HUGH: [sighs] Where's the next one?

ELOISE: Aberlour. You get three more tries. Got that? Then we're off. Choose wisely.

HUGH: I suppose.

ELOISE: You don't even like whiskey!

HUGH: I just fancied a bottle or two. For visitors, like.

ELOISE: Visitors? Well, make sure I know when they're coming so I can freshen up the parlor!

HUGH: We've got a letter here from Angus, and he says, "Dear Hugh and Eloise, I used to eat too many convenience foods. Then I cleaned up my act and started cooking, with a consequent improvement in my health. Then civilization collapsed, and I was right back to eating from tins again. How do you make sure you get the right nutrition, especially as you are travellers of no fixed abode?"

ELOISE: What a good question. Well, there's two ways to look at that. One way is that we travel to make sure we get a varied selection of natural produce from up and down the country, and to minimize our impact on the environment.

HUGH: Yeah, that's a good way of looking at it, but it isn't true.

ELOISE: Well, it's sort of true. If we just stayed in one place, we'd probably exhaust local stocks and leave none for the next people.

HUGH: She likes them Ritz crackers. We got four boxes in the back. Not the little boxes, either. The ones they bring on the forklift.

ELOISE: Thank you, Hugh. We do cook every day on a camping stove. A lot of soups and stew and stuff, from vegetables in the fields and peoples' gardens. There was a slight plan to grow our own on the roof, but we had to give up on that before I installed the aerial.

HUGH: I took a corner too tight and we lost every last radish.

ELOISE: Hugh has been trying to grow things inside the van.

HUGH: I'm giving up on that until we can get proper hydroponics.

ELOISE: I suppose our best advice, Angus, is to become a gardener. Try a few different crops to test the soil, and build a wall around your beds to keep the zombies off.

HUGH: Zombies don't eat vegetables.

ELOISE: No, but they do eat gardeners.

HUGH: Uh, thanks for your question, Angus. Stay safe out there.

ELOISE: Hugh, don't look now, but I think we're being followed!

HUGH: What?

ELOISE: I said don't look!

HUGH: Is it zombies? We haven't got much in the tank.

ELOISE: No.

HUGH: Who is it?

ELOISE: It's the paparazzi.

HUGH: Oh. [laughs] Not again, eh?

ELOISE: I think it's the show that's the problem. Now our listenership is in the hundreds of thousands, people are thirsty for the intimate details of our glamorous life.

HUGH: Well, it's true. Every move around these rugged isles is a glittering cavalcade of drama and high fashion.

ELOISE: I'm glad I'm wearing a little Chanel number today with my matching handbag and all.

HUGH: I'm wearing Cinzano.

ELOISE: [laughs] That's a drink, you pillock.

HUGH: No, no. During my brief spell as a visiting scholar in Florence, I had something of a personal tailor who later became globally renowned. Humberto Cinzano made me many original designs.

ELOISE: I never heard of him.

HUGH: Yeah, he died.

ELOISE: Was that before or after you addressed the United Nations?

HUGH: Around the same time. What were you doing then?

ELOISE: Well, I think it's safe reveal to you now that I am a sleeper agent for the KGB.

HUGH: Your English accent's quite good.

ELOISE: [imitates Russian accent] Der Mister Caulfield, at last I have you in my grasp! My submarine is parked in the Scottish [?], or whatever it is called, and I must insist you accompany me to motherland, where I will both interrogate you and make mad passionate love to screw with your head!

HUGH: You think we could uh, [laughs] pull over for a bit? Maybe turn off the mic?

ELOISE: What about the paparazzi?

HUGH: They can take all the pictures they like.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Jack and Eugene need to listen to that.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah, they really do.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: That'll show them.

ZOE CRICK: Exactly. Indulging in a bit of harmless, non-sexual roleplay is totally normal.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Completely! There's nothing odd about spending two hours pretending to be Dastardly and Muttley.

ZOE CRICK: Especially when you're as good at the laugh as I am. [imitates Muttley’s laugh]

PHIL CHEESEMAN: And I bet lots of people pretend to be Q and M for extended periods of time. Days, even.

ZOE CRICK: Yeah. We should definitely make Jack and Eugene listen to it.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: [gasps] Hugh and Eloise are an old married couple, though. Wouldn't that kind of be proving Jack and Eugene's point about us?

ZOE CRICK: Only if we tell them Hugh and Eloise are married.

#zombies run #zrs4 #s4 radio #s4 radio part 3 #zr transcript

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