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luci-in-the-stars · 4 months

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Comic Book Sale|| Sam & Luci

TIMING: Saturday after Thanksgiving LOCATION: Escape your Fate Comics PARTIES: @luci-in-the-stars & @uncannysam SUMMARY: Luci goes to the comic book store after Thanksgiving to find a Pokemon book. Sam and Scout, despite being on a break, decide to help. CONTENT WARNING: Slight Sibling death tw (mentioned), Mental Health warning (Talk about grief loosing loved ones pretty explicitly)

Black Friday and all the hustle and bustle had come and gone, and of course, Sam had opted to stay closed that day. Besides, if people had wanted to buy comic books that badly, they could come when she reopened Saturday. And surprisingly the store had been filled most of the day. But by afternoon a lull finally started to happen which meant Sam could have a break. And a break she needed, “Okay, Scout. You know the drill. If anyone comes in while I’m in the back, come and get me.” Her smile was soft and inviting as she gave the dog ear scratches and a kiss on the head.

Grabbing her phone from the counter, she went to the back and pulled out the lunch she had brought from home – leftover from her parents house. The best kind of meal. Taking off the lid, she put the small plate into the microwave and hit start. For once, in quite a while, her mind had been clear, and the sleep she finally succumbed to, at her mom and dad’s house during the holiday, had been what she had needed. No, weird images of people with wings and scales had seemed to bother her, giving her some piece of mind.

“I have waited all day for this.” As the microwave shut off and the beeping rangout through the back office, Sam was just about to take her food out when she heard Scout barking. Seriously? Every damn time.

Sam, defeated knowing her food would probably be cold by the time she came back, walked towards the front, “Hey, everything in the store is buy two, get half off the third and everything in the boxes on that table over there” Sam motioned to a back corner, “is 99 cents. Let me know if you have any questions.”

—

Luci was in a lot of ways trying to find something to get Milo for the holidays. It was weird and awkward, and while she had figured out his birthday she wasn’t sure she had another plan. It wasn’t quite doom time yet, but she really wanted to figure it out before she had to think of other things.

So she ended up in a comic shop, not quite sure if anything here her brother would like. It was the - sixth store of the day? Biting her lip and looking down at her list she wanted to at least try it - it was empty looking and maybe she could find something small to build on. At the dog barking she looked up and realized that she was in there alone. Feeling perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be here she moved to leave before she heard someone.

“Oh - so you aren’t closed? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Oh okay - that sounds nice. I’ll let you know,” Luci said, nodding as Sam continued and she looked back down at her list of things she thought her brother might like. “Uh - do you know anything about Pokemon? Is there a comic with that? - Sorry I’ve been trying something for my brother, and I’m pretty lost here. I can look around though, if you were doing something in the back. I’ll let you know if I am going to leave or something.”

After all, it would be their first Christmas without Gen, and Luz knew nothing would change that but she wanted to at least try. She just didn’t know what ‘try’ reasonably looked like.

—

Looking down at Scout, Sam shot a warm smile in his direction. He was her best bud, and she was grateful to have him next to her. The days had seemed quieter and lonelier without Zach around. He had been her person. Her rock, and the one who was always there when things got tough. Though it had been a couple of months since he had passed, it still felt like yesterday. The one person she had swore she would always be there for, and she wasn’t. And now Thanksgiving had passed, and he wasn’t around to bring her some of his mom’s potato flake mashed potatoes and canned gravy or that slimy canned cranberry sauce he always threatened her with.

“No, I was just in the back taking care of some things. I’m open until 11 tonight, so you’ve got plenty of time to look around, ask questions, hang out.” Sam didn’t really care if people hung out at the shop until the lights were shut off. She had always had it in mind to make it feel welcoming and like a safe place for people to come to if they needed an escape, just like comic books had always been for her. It’s partly why she had named the store Escape Your Fate.

“Uh, I think I have some graphic novels. I’ll show you where they’re at.” Stepping over Scout, she walked towards where she kept the books for young readers. There was a variety of options that had included Scooby Doo, Archie comics, and…”Here ya go. I don’t have many, but depending on when you need it, I can always order something. Shipping can vary though, especially with the weather starting to get worse during the colder season.” Sam picked up the three different novels and handed them to her customer.

—

At the idea that she wasn’t intruding Luci nodded lightly glad that she wasn’t. She didn’t like taking up other people’s space after all, especially lately. After all, through a series of events she now was on her brother's couch taking up more of his time then she should. Luz didn’t always think this way, didn’t always think that she was taking up space that she shouldn’t, but well what was all of this if not proof that she was.

Still when the other showed her where the books were her eyes lit up a little bit, glad she had gotten something right. She had written down things Milo liked - if she was honest she did that with everyone she knew hoping that it would come up one day - but it was somewhat foreign to her. “Oh - Thank you. I really appreciate your help,” Luci said, taking the books in her hand for a minute, flipping through the first one and then nodding lightly. “I’ve been trying to find something that I can copy for his present. I’m trying to paint the little creatures - and sorry you probably don’t want to here but I think this one will work. Could I have this one please?” There was a sort of relief there, knowing that she had a plan now that would work and she could get the colors correct. She couldn’t seem to get any copies to do that well in print.

—

Sam watched as the girl looked the books over. It was always exciting to her to see what people were interested in. Their reasons for coming into the store. She, of course, had the regulars who would stop in and pick up their weekly subscription box and others who would just wander in looking for something to kill time. She often got a variety of questions, and she couldn’t answer them off the top of her head, she would search for the answer. Helping people had always been something she enjoyed, especially when they shared a common interest with her.

“Yeah, no problem.” Sam gently took the three books and put back the two she didn’t want, where they came from, “So are you an artist?” She loved hearing about aspiring artists. She had dabbled in inkwork and creating comics herself as more of a side hobby, but had never tried to go pro with it.

Sam made her way to the front of the store and stepped behind the counter ready to ring up the graphic novel, when the girl was ready, “And, please, if you want to look anymore, be my guest. There’s no rush. I can keep this up here until you’re ready.” She laid the book on the counter and sat down.

—

Luci was slightly buzzing at the idea of finally having what she needed, and perhaps she’d give Milo the book later after Christmas too. It seemed lately her plans never seemed to go the way she wanted them, but this was a simple enough victory that she should be able to do so. At the question though Luci blinked and then shook her head.

“Oh - no I’m not. I’m not very good at - uh ‘artistic expression’” she said her hands going up to quote the words her old art teacher used to tell her. While Luz had always been good at copying or drawing things she saw - she never quite got ‘it’. No one could really tell her what ‘it’ was - but she assumed it was something about how it was supposed to ‘move someone’. Her technical drawings, although detailed and in their own way probably pretty - never moved anyone really. “ I’m just good at copying - My brother is though - he’s a really good Artist. I’m just planning on painting some of the pokemon onto the handle of some crochet hooks I found - and I couldn’t get a good read on what the colors were.” She babbled partially worried she had disappointed the other with her answer, and wanted to show that she did still like art - even if she didn’t get it.

“Oh - okay. I will,” Luci said with a little nod wondering if there was anything in the store she might be interested in. She finally had some time to read now that she didn’t have to be in so many clubs. Maybe some of her other friends liked some of the comic books around here, and if she read them she’d have something to talk about. It was enough of a motivation that she started looking, curious about the comic books she’d only briefly saw her brother read.

“Um - if you don’t mind me asking, what would you recommend if you were just starting out reading comic books?” Luci said after a few minutes, getting overwhelmed. “I’ve never actually read any but they look cool.”

—

So her meal was getting cold, but having someone to talk to made Sam’s day better than it was. The holidays had been hard, and she had been dreading them for quite a while now. But with a customer who was new to the world of comic books and needing some guidance currently in her store, it helped to take her mind off of things, “I don’t think you have to have artistic expression to enjoy yourself. And copying is how I started out.” She didn’t know her history, but she knew making copies could get your hands moving the way they needed to. “I think he’ll love it, especially because it’s coming from the heart, you know? Much better than store bought gifts. Plus, putting these characters on crochet hooks is a skill within itself. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sam smiled softly.

Grabbing her phone, she noticed a text from her mom had come in. Thumbing through the message about coming over again, Sam started replying back to give the young woman some space, so she didn’t feel as if she was imposing. When she finished the message, she put her phone back down, just in time to hear the question – her bread and butter.

Sam stood up from the stool and walked back around the counter and over to where she was, “That’s a big ask. But I can definitely help. I think we should start by narrowing it down first though. Are there any particular superheroes you like? Or are you more of a horror fan? What do you think you might vibe with?”

—

Luci wasn’t quite sure if she agreed with the other’s words, but it did make her smile a little at the thought. She was pretty sure Gen would have said something similar, and while it might have normally made her sad, it didn’t. “You are right, at least about me enjoying it. I do a lot of technical drawings and things like that. I just don’t think I’m really an ‘artist’ artist if that makes sense.”

At the idea that her brother might like her gift she smiled a little brighter with a little more hope. “I hope so. It’s really my biggest idea at the moment. With finals and stuff - winter kind of came up quicker than I thought it would.” Part of that was, if she was being honest, because she had more things in her life now. Instead of the drum and ache of what had happened she now had things to look forward too.

“Oh - Uh,” Luci rocked lightly on her feet trying to think. “I don’t mind horror and I don’t know many superheroes. I liked She-ra when I saw it. Are there any stories like that?” Luci said, trying to narrow down what she might like. She didn’t want anything hard, or particularly scary and the show was one she liked a lot. It did feel a little childish, but the other woman didn’t seem particularly like one that would judge that. “Or - oh like the powerpuff girls? I used to love them when I was little. Something like that.”

____

“Nah, you’re an artist in my book. Even technical drawings take craft and skill. Not everyone can draw a perfectly symmetrical shape.” Sam had seen so many young hopefuls come into the store. She had even been one herself and secretly still was. She had even slipped a few of her own works into the Indigenous comic books just to see if there were ever any bites. And while this person may have been visiting just to pick out something to copy and maybe something to get invested in, it didn’t stop her from trying to be encouraging.

“Winter does that every year. It’s like no matter how much you try to prepare for it, it still sneaks up on you.” Sam’s mind had been occupied by other things, and just like her customer, she had let time get away from her. It was easy to do that when you remained in your own head, but the store had been keeping her busy and was reminding her of what time of the year it was with the uptick in sales.

Her ideas were good ones that Sam could work with. And by the sounds of them, she knew something too scary wasn’t the vibe, but also a strong female lead. She had just the suggestions, “So if you’re looking for She-ra, I do have a section dedicated to Strong Females in Comics. Powerpuff Girls I think are still over there, but they might be back where Pokemon and Scooby Doo are. Oh, and if you like something a little more…supernatural…” Just walk outside. “I do have Sabrina the Teenage Witch also where She-ra is.” She led the brunette over to the section she was talking about.

—

Luci wasn’t quite sure how to take the compliment so she nodded. After all, it was a skill and one an alchemist needed. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to make little figures that people adored though, but then again she wasn’t sure if she wanted to either. She still had time though, to figure out what she wanted to do other than being a spellcaster.

“Yeah, it does seem to do that a lot,” Luci said wondering how time flowed for the other. Normally, she passed by at a reasonable pace for her. Lately though it seemed to be leaping over large sections of time. She supposed growing up did that.

Luci followed the other amazed that she could figure out something she might want to read. There was a bit of excitement, new knowledge to be gained and maybe even to share with others. “Oh - I’ve never heard of that one before. I’m assuming it’s about a Witch?” It would be a little ironic if so, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun.

—

It was as if time stood still at moments and others, as if it was flying by at a blur. Time, along with life, was a funny thing. “I think time, in general, does that though, especially when you’ve got other things on your mind.” She shook off the thought of Zach, not wanting it to bring her down any further than the current holiday already had.

Sam could see the excitement in her new comic friend, and it made her happy. That was one of the best parts of her job, “Sabrina? It’s a classic. It’s been turned into a TV show a couple of times. The comics aren’t really scary. More campy, if anything, but the most recent adaptation for streaming is definitely dark, and if that’s not your thing, I wouldn’t recommend it.” Never in a million years did Sam think she’d be living in a real life episode of Sabrina at any point in time.

“I’m Sam by the way. I’m really the only one who works here, so if you decide to come back after today, it’ll be me and Scout here to help.” She motioned to her dog who was laying on the floor near the counter. “And remember, it’s buy two and get half off the third. I don’t know how much time you have, but I think the 99 cent boxes might have some more comics with female leads, if you feel like digging. I try to keep them in alphabetical order, but it doesn’t last long.”

—

Luci nodded, her mind now focused on the idea of a new story and not herself at the moment. After all, there was something to look forward to and read, and maybe someone else in the town would like to talk to her about it. She wondered, briefly in a small part of her mind, if her sister would have liked the comic. Maybe she would have found it silly. Luz would have liked that. “Oh - yeah I don’t know if I would watch it, but I trust you that the comic would be fun. Maybe during halloween I’ll take a look at it,” Luci said, thankful at the warning and looking through the comics herself and settling on one of them to get. At the other’s name Luci looked up and said, “ Oh - I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Luci. I think I will, if you don’t mind. The store is really nice. It’s nice to meet you and Scout as well.” She also found Sam very nice to talk to, something she didn’t want to reveal in case that was annoying. At the idea of a sale she nodded and said, “I’ll take a look there too. Thank you, Sam.” Maybe she could find a couple of stories that would keep her entertained. It would be nice to have a little escape.

#sibling death tw #grief tw #mental heath tw #para: Sam #a dangerous disposition; para #thank u Sunny this was a really sweet thread and I really enjoyed having a calm little moment for the both of them #Luci's really gonna like her book <3

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heretyc · 2 years

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incorrect quotes, outlast edition

Y/N: This is such a bad idea. Miles: Then why are you coming along? Y/N: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Miles: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment! Trager: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

Y/N: *Stubs their toe* FUCK! Waylon: Mind your language! Y/N: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Waylon: Y/N: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Y/N: You saved me. I owe you my life. Blake: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

Y/N: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Trager: You mean literally or figuratively? Y/N: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Trager: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Chris: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Eddie: Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

Eddie: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Y/N: I think you mean cards. Eddie, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Walrider: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

Trager: I'm a reverse necromancer. Jeremy: Isn't that just killing people? Trager: Ah, technicality.

Blake: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Lynn: You would eat yourself? Blake: I wouldn’t even question it.

Knoth: What did you do with Marta's body? Val: What didn’t I do with the body? Knoth: Val: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

Knoth: You're right. Val: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

Marta: God, give me patience. Val: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Marta: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

Y/N: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Val: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Y/N: Absolutely not.

Y/N: There is no future. there is no past. do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet. Val: Marta: Knoth: Everyone Else At Y/N’s Surprise Birthday Party: Val: All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

Lynn, trying to ask Blake out: Would you like to stay for dinner? Val: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

Y/N: Naturally, we are on the cutting edge of technology. Val, amazed: Wow... Eddie, to Val: Well what does that mean? Val: I don't know. Val, to Y/N: What does that mean?

Jessica: We need to get through this locked door. Lynn, give me your credit card. Lynn: Here. Jessica, pocketing it: Thanks. Blake, kick down the door.

Jeremy: If you had to choose between Y/N and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose? Trager: That depends, how much money are we talking about? Y/N: Trager! Jeremy: 63 cents. Trager: I'll take the money. Y/N: TRAGER!!!

Frank: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Marta: Favorite horror movie? Val: It Knoth: Saw Nick: Annabelle Laird: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Heretic: So what’s for dinner? Val, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions? Waylon: Put spaghetti in it. Miles: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you. Jeremy: Put spaghetti in it. Miles: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two. Trager: Put spaghetti in it. Miles: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

Eddie: I am not out of control! I'm a law-abiding citizen! Waylon: Really? Name one law Eddie: Don't kill people? Waylon: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

Knoth: *Walking into a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things. *Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder* Val: *Out of breath* THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

Blake: You're 'the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans', what does that mean? Val: It means I was the second worst thing to happen to those orphans. Blake: but what’s the first worst thing? *Awkward pause* Val: Blake, they...they weren’t always orphans. Blake:

Lynn: Must be hard not being able to laugh Val: I do have a sense of humor you know Lynn: I’ve never heard you laugh before Val: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

#THE FACT THAT A LOT OF THESE FIT THE CHARACTERS....#SPOOKY #so basically:#val wants u to sleep and eat but then again they burnt ur fucking food so #TAKE OUT TIME !!!!!!!#i want a show where trager and jeremy are two golf fanatics high on weed #PLEASE RED BARRELS #outlast #jessica taking lynns wallet is revenge from the grave #THE ORPHANS ONE...OUCH VAL

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normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke · 1 year

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I posted 3,660 times in 2022

899 posts created (25%)

2,761 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke

@daughter-of-sapph0

@fandomfan315

@somethingusefulfromflorida

@genderfluid-and-confuzled

I tagged 1,650 of my posts in 2022

#ableism tw - 239 posts

#unreality tw - 36 posts

#religion tw - 32 posts

#christianity tw - 30 posts

#death tw - 26 posts

#do not reblog - 24 posts

#cfs - 22 posts

#abuse tw - 21 posts

#cripplepunk - 20 posts

#actually disabled - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#i'm on an antiviral‚ an antidepressant‚ a prescription nsaid‚ two allergy medicines‚ two vitamins‚ and a sedative-hypnotic sleep pill

My Top Posts in 2022:

I wrote this article about my experiences with religion as a disabled person. I get a small commission (less than a cent) from each read but it adds up pretty quickly. Reblogging, reading, and sharing this article will directly put money in a disabled person's pocket without taking any out of yours!

683 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

[Image ID: the handshake meme. One hand is labeled "cripplepunk" and the other is labeled "trendercore". Where they meet in the middle, the text reads "recognizing that pleasing the oppressor is not as important as the safety and happiness of the oppressed".]

Was trying to figure out why I vibed so much with trendercore as a cis disabled person and I figured it out

alternatively

See the full post

689 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

while I was doing research on autism I found out that while social impairments exist from birth, they might not "fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities". The first time I had to interact with people daily was in high school and that's when all my social issues started. I've been doubting if I actually am autistic but like, there it is, the actual CDC having a counterpoint for the exact reason the autism clinic wouldn't diagnose me.

1,742 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

I love you physically disabled people. I love you spoonies. I love you cripples. Iove you zebras. I love you wheelchair users. I love you cane users. I love you crutch users. I love you people with prosthetics. I love you service dog teams. I love you other mobility aid users. I love you chronically ill people. I love you terminally ill people. I love you people with skin differences. I love you people with limb differences. I love you people with facial differences. I love you people with autoimmune conditions. I love you people with gastrointestinal conditions. I love you people with heart conditions. I love you people with chronic pain. I love you people with chronic fatigue. I love you people who faint. I love you people who have seizures. I love you people with mental health problems on top of or because of your physical disability. I love you people with disabilities I don't know about or didn't mention.

7,328 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Filming people without their consent is a massive issue of not only privacy but ableism that's been going on for many years.

It started out with filming more visibly disabled people, like high support needs autistic people having meltdowns in public and (especially fat) disabled people literally just using mobility aids, but once that was deemed less acceptable it moved to other things. Filming people acting "weird" in public. Eating weird foods. Falling asleep in weird places. Wearing weird things. Stimming. You get the idea. It's no longer safe to be visibly weird in public and that's an issue for a lot of disabled people. I recently had to lay down on the floor of a department store because I had an ME crash while out shopping. Not only did I have to worry about the normal things like people coming up to ask me if I'm ok, I also had to worry about some video of me at my lowest point, when I'm suffering immensely, being shared around as "haha look at this weird bitch on the floor". It's upsetting. It's scary.

And then there's fakeclaiming. A fun trend where people will film us in public to "prove" there's some kind of huge epidemic of people faking disability. Spoiler alert: there is not. Most of the time the people they film are real disabled people who don't fit into the expected mold for disability, usually service dog teams or people who use mobility aids who don't "look sick". And you would think this trend would be some kind of abled nonsense, but it's not. It's often other disabled people doing the fakeclaiming. Yes, there are some times when it's obvious a service dog isn't trained properly, but other than that, it's damn near impossible to tell if someone is faking a disability, and you're much more likely to target a disabled person than a faker. I'd love to say this trend was new, but it's been going on since the days of "the people of walmart" where many of the people posted were fat mobility aid users, always with the assumption that they used it because they were too fat or lazy to move on their own. In fact, the image of a fat person in a mobility cart has become almost synonymous with "lazy". It's one of the things that drove me to get my own expensive power wheelchair, to avoid the judgmental stares in the grocery store when I was just trying to exist, to avoid the fear of public shame. Even now when I stand up from my chair to walk to the bathroom stall or reach something on a high shelf, I watch the corners of my vision for that telltale phone in the air. I feel like I'm never safe from the judgemental eye of the internet, even when I'm logged off, and I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels that way.

Tik Tok, YouTube, Instagram, these places are all great for disabled people, especially those of us without access to the outside world. But it's also become a source of great anxiety for anyone who's uncontrollably "weird", mostly disabled people. Leave us alone, I'm begging you, we just want to go to the fucking grocery store in peace and safety.

Tl;dr

Stop filming people for "acting weird" or "faking a disability" in public. It's ableist, it's invasive, it's creepy, and it's humiliating. People don't exist in public for your amusement and especially not disabled people. You don't know who is disabled and who isn't no matter how many disabled people you've known or how sure you are that the person is faking.

27,223 notes - Posted July 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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elias-code · 3 years

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Asleep in Your Arms - Techno x Reader

Characters: c!Techno x gn!Reader

Summary: While a blizzard outside rages, you find comfort in Techno’s arms. He tells you a story to help relax you, and you end up asleep in his arms. Not having the heart to wake you so he could go to his Syndicate meeting, he sleeps with you.

Warnings: None!

~Ask~

Could you maybe write a small thing about short reader (like 5’) feeling safe in Techno’s arms and maybe falling asleep on his lap before a syndicate meeting and not having the heart to wake you up so he lets you cuddle him during the meeting??

~Ask~

Note: Aww I’m 5’ 5” and this really speaks to me… When I get stressed, I just feel the need to melt into someone’s arms (preferably Techno’s) and sleep. Also I hate being woken up so i would appreciate him being so careful lmao. I couldn’t figure out a way to make the meeting happen so I hope this will do! Also, the story that he tells isn’t mine, I just heard it a lot when I was a kid, so I decided to write that one instead of straight up copy and pasting something else—

—- Enjoy! —-

To Techno, this was just another bad storm, but to you, it was one of the scariest parts of living with him. The only thing that could make the blizzard go away was his warmth. Even though this was your second storm by now, you still weren't used to the sounds. Snow was supposed to be soft and fluffy, but buzzards were far from that and far from anything you'd experienced before.

“When is this going to be over?”

Techno continued to look out the window at the blinding white storm. “I think it’s going to be a while. I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

You sighed and put your hands to your face. You prided yourself on being a well composed person, but when it came to storms, something deep in your animal brain wanted to make you hide forever. Your instincts weren’t well-founded when it came to the blizzards, but Techno comforted you nonetheless.

He closed the curtain and walked over to where you were sitting, kneeling to your level and taking your hands off of your face to look you in the eye.

“Baby, it’s going to be okay,” He cooed, “It’s just a storm, it can’t hurt you in here.”

“I know…” He stood and sat next to you on the plush couch, the cushions sinking in as he did so. He put his arm around your shoulders and invited you to lean into him.

“C’mere,” He said, motioning for you to move closer, “Sit with me.”

You complied, just as the storm picked up once again. You scooted over into his lap, leaning your head on his chest. Compared to the 6’5” giant, you were an infant. He was nearly one and a half feet taller than you, and even though you were used to people being taller than you, it always felt different with him. With some people, it was intimidating, sometimes patronizing. With Techno, you always felt at home, like he was the iron giant looking after you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” He asked. It was always comforting when he did that.

“Yeah…” You mumbled, shutting your eyes.

“Alright,” He cleared his throat and began:

“There once was a wealthy farmer who had three sons; Henry, Oliver, and Prince were their names. By the time he was seventy, he was on his deathbed, and he had to decide which son to give the farm to. When his sons asked who he wanted to receive it, he replied: ‘Whoever passes my test will be the one to own the farm when I die.’ The boys leaned in closer in anticipation for the challenge, ‘I will give you each twenty-five cents. I want you all to use that money to fill a room in the house completely. Buy whatever you need at the market, but do not go over budget.’

The boys understood the assignment, but were confused as to why he wanted them to do that instead of more conventional means. He could have just chosen one of them at random, one proposed, but the old man smiled and said, ‘I have my reasons, now go.’

And so they did. At the market, Henry bought the cheapest, biggest things he could find. He bought thin boxes, thinking he could fill the room with them, since they were so bulky. With the twenty-some boxes he bought, he could only fill half the room, and so he lost the farm.

Oliver was next, and initially, he thought he would be able to hire people to crowd into the house and maybe bring some friends, but no one was interested in what little money he could offer them. He came up with another plan, his father wouldn’t know if he bought above his budget, and so he bought the boxes off of Henry, and then some more. Henry charged him his full twenty-five cents, knowing Oliver was bound to lose with those boxes. Instead, when Henry went into the room they were supposed to fill, he saw a few extra wheels of cheese which blocked the entrance, meaning the room had been filled. Seeing this, he notified his father. Oliver had cheated, and so he would not get the property.

Lastly, Prince skipped into town. He was the youngest out of all of his siblings, only twelve years old at the time. He saw what his other brothers did and took note. He figured there’d be no way to fill the room with any physical objects, and so he came up with a different idea. He bought a candle and a match, with two cents to spare. When he got home and lit the candle, the room filled with light, and he explained it to his brothers.

They refused to think that their father would consider the room filled, but Prince insisted he’d stayed within the rules, and lo and behold, the father was ecstatic.

‘My dear Prince, the farm is yours! Unlike your brother Henry, you were able to fill the room. I never specified what to fill it with, and Henry just assumed that he would have to fill it with physical objects, which is not the case. You also outsmarted your brother Oliver, who had no sense of the rules and threw his chances away by cheating. You were the only one to stick to the rules and accomplish the task, I’m proud of you.’”

Techno finished the story he’d told you many times, knowing it was your favorite. You’d talked about it before, referring to it as a ‘lateral thinking puzzle’ or something along those lines. Techno had bought a whole book of them for times like these, when you were stressed. He’d go over them with you and he especially had fun poking holes in them, finding other ways to get to the desired end.

He was about to say one of his usual quips about the story when he noticed you let out a light snore. You were asleep in his lap, his arms around you, protecting you from the storm outside. He smiled, I am not gonna make it to the meeting today, am I? He thought to himself. The voices answered half-heartedly, still discussing how long they thought you’d been asleep for. He didn’t have the heart to wake you, and so he sat there with you until eventually he fell asleep, too.

#elias original #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #Eli sleep #dsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #Technoblade #i have a new computer so shit might be off lmao sorry

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

The Strings that Bind Us: Chapter One

AO3

Marinette Dupain Cheng was tired. She’d fought the same villain for fifteen years. She’d been a hero longer than she’d been just Marinette. It was exhausting. And she was ready for a break. Two years after unmasking Hawkmoth, Paris was finally healed enough for her to move on. To leave.

Which was why she was currently putting fairy lights and pumpkins on the balcony of her new apartment in Gotham. It was quiet, and lonely, but at least she didn’t have the weight of a city on her back anymore. She hums as she places the last pumpkin. Perfect. Glancing across the city, she lets out a sigh. Here she was, in an entirely new city, no connections and no one to talk to when she needed to just talk. But it was worth it, the memories of everything in Paris still too fresh. It still hurt too much. Deciding it’s not too early to go to sleep, she walks back inside. She’s just closed the door when a loud crash from outside has her tensing. She peeks behind the curtain, frowning at the figure on her balcony. She opens the door.

“Uh, hello.” She greets the strangely dressed man. If what she’d read had been correct, this was Batman. Gotham’s resident hero, or vigilante as the papers called him. He probably wasn’t here to fight her, but you can never be too careful.

“My apologies.” He says, his voice gruff. Her eyes narrow at the way he favors his left side.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” She asks suddenly, her face instantly heating up as the words tumble out without her permission.

“I’m not-” He starts, but she shakes her head.

“I insist. You are out trying to protect citizens, are you not? The least I can do is offer you a coffee.” She says, turning and walking back inside. She doesn’t turn to see if he follows, but she does hear footsteps behind her. She figures he could walk silently, if he really wanted to. After all, even though he’d been around for eight or so years, few had ever seen Batman. She hums, moving around the kitchen and starting up her small coffee pot and grabbing a few of the leftover pastries from earlier. Placing the pastries on a plate, she pulls down two cups before turning to the vigilante in her kitchen.

“How do you take your coffee?” She asks, and she swears his lips twitch slightly.

“Just black.” He says, and she grins.

“Thank goodness. One of my friends in Paris refuses to drink coffee unless it’s half cream and sugar.” She says, trying to keep the conversation light. After all, what do you say to a random vigilante? It was different when Chat Noir, or Adrien, visited her back in collège. He didn’t start doing that until after she’d helped with Evillustrator, which helped it to not be awkward. Like it currently was with her and Batman. God, why did she even invite him in? She turns and almost sighs in relief when she sees the coffee is done. Quickly filling up both cups, she passes one to Batman and then pushes the plate of pastries towards him.

“I own the cafe downstairs.” She says as an explanation when she sees his lips purse. He nods and grabs a croissant, taking a hesitant bite out of it.

“Thank you.” He says, and she just smiles. She may not want to be a hero again, but maybe it would be okay to be friends with a hero again.

---

The bell over the door notifying her of another customer makes Marinette stick her head out from the back.

“Hello! Welcome to La Petite Tasse, I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She calls, not catching the response before she’s back in the kitchen, pulling a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven. She slides the tray onto the cooling rack before tugging off the oven mitts and rushing out to the front.

“I am so sorry about that, most of my workers are also students so they have class right now. What can I get you?” She rambles, freezing when she looks up into the most attractive blue eyes she’s ever seen. The man just smiles at her, and she swears her knees go weak.

“That’s fine. Could I have... a large black coffee and a croissant?” The man asks, glancing up at the menu before looking back at her. She nods and smiles, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Sure, this was quite literally the most attractive man she’d ever seen in person, but she was not going to fall for a pretty face. Nope. Totally not. She turns and grabs a cup, filling it up before rushing to the back to grab one of the fresh croissants. After all, they were better warm.

“That’ll be three dollars and twenty seven cents.” She says, passing the man his order. He grins and passes her a twenty.

“Keep the change.” He says with a grin before he turns and walks out. She blinks, slightly confused, but takes the change and puts it into the tip jar. That was weird, she thinks, but she doesn’t think too much into it. It’s not like she’d ever see him again.

---

She had been wrong, and she was completely okay with it. The man came in almost every day for two weeks before she worked up the courage to introduce herself and ask his name. He’d seemed shocked, but had introduced himself as Bruce. And after two weeks, she was happy to say that Gotham had started to feel a little lighter, that she was a little happier in this dark city. The bell above the door chimes, but she keeps working on filling the macarons since Mack was manning the counter.

“Listen kid, open the register and I won’t shoot your fucking brains out.” A voice says. Oh hell no. She drops the piping back and picks up her rolling pin. Peeking out, she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it’s only one guy, not an entire group. She tosses her rolling pin lightly before catching it, familiarizing herself with it as a projectile before she actually uses it. She watches as Mack’s hands shake, obviously panicked. Letting out a steadying breath, Marinette aims and manages to hit the man in the head with the rolling pin. He drops instantly, the gun clattering to the floor. She rushes out and grabs a couple zip ties from under the counter, walking over and cuffing the man’s hands behind his back before dragging him towards the handrail and attaching him to it. She glares at the man before she remembers Mack and gasps. She rushes over, frantically checking over the girl to make sure she’s okay.

“Mama M, I’m fine. I promise.” She says, though her voice shakes. Marinette breathes a sigh of relief before crushing the girl in a hug.

“I am so sorry, Mack, so, so sorry.” She apologizes, holding the girl close. She can feel the girl shake slightly, her shirt getting wet as the girl cries. Marinette just coos softly, whispering reassuring words to her. She barely hears the bell signaling a customer ring.

“What the hell happened?” A familiar voice asks. She glances over at Bruce and grimaces.

“Attempted robbery. Would you mind calling the police?” She asks, nodding towards the landline. He blinks, standing frozen as he stares at the tied up man in the corner. “Bruce!” She calls, his attention snapping to her. She nods towards the phone again and he nods, walking over to make the call.

---

After the police take their statements, Marinette sends Mack home with the tips from the day, despite the girl’s protests.

“Sweetheart, you were just held at gunpoint. I’m not gonna let you stay here. Go home, eat some junk food and watch something funny. I’ll see you on Monday.” Marinette says, giving the girl another quick hug before watching her leave. She turns to Bruce, who had been kind enough to stay, and winces. “You’re not gonna get in trouble with your boss, are you?” She asks. He just grins.

“I was actually off today, don’t worry about me.” He says, his smile falling as he looks her over. “Are you okay?” He asks. She lets out a shaky breath before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. I was more worried about Mack, honestly. I was in the back, but I couldn’t just stay there. Not knowing she was in danger.” She says, her arms wrapped around herself as she tries to stay calm. It was the first time she’d had an actual gun aimed at someone she cares about.

“You were quite the hero today.” He says softly, and she snorts, shaking her head.

“No, Bruce, I wasn’t. I did what anyone else would’ve done.” She says, waving him off dismissively.

“Only you would actually believe that there are still people good enough to act like that.” He says softly. She blushes and clears her throat.

“Well, did you want your regular?” She asks, moving to go back behind the counter. He frowns.

“Mari, you aren’t seriously going to open the cafe back up today, are you?” He asks and she frowns.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asks.

“Because your store was just attacked!” He exclaims, and she snorts.

“If my parent’s bakery in Paris closed every time there was an attack, they would’ve gone out of business.” She says flippantly. He frowns, and she worries she’s said something wrong, when his face suddenly twists back up into a smile.

“Spend the day with me.” He says and she blinks in surprise.

“What?”

“I had set out to ask you on a date when I came in today, but the whole attempted robbery stopped me. I know you want to just get back to work, but what if you spent the day with me instead?” He offers. She stares at him, wide eyed, before a wide smile forms on her face.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She says. It’d be fine to have the cafe closed for a day.

Event tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs

Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#brucinette #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat #maribat fanfiction #maribat ladybug #maribat batman #MaribatHalloween21 #maribatoctrp21 #ao3fic

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

Text

I wish this trip never ends (sstbthw part 2) - h.h

Word count: 3768

Warning: angst, swear, mention of smoking

Pairing : harry holland

Request: no.

N/A: okay, i took me almost a whole month to write this but i'm kinda need to work on school too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really tried my best. I asked you who the reader was supposed to end up with ... I'll let you figure it out but ... don't hate me for the end ... because after all ... it might not be the end. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

taglist : @angeliquekalampoka , @harryhollandsgirlfriend (the one and only harry holland's girlfriend to me)

ღღღ

previously - and you can find part 3

Restoring a relationship of trust and regaining the bond that you both had was particularly difficult. You had to learn to find your place in Harrison's life, but also in his relationship with Grace. You were roommates and friends, but it was complicated to plan meetings with Harrison's busy schedule. Between his job search after the cancellation of his Netflix series, his photo shoots, his dates with Grace, those with his family. It was getting harder and harder to find a moment to reunite with the two of you. It was without counting your schedule.

You were supposed to meet at noon for lunch at that restaurant Harrison told you about where he took his mother earlier this year, for Mother's Day. You felt uncomfortable going to such a place. It was very fancy; you had taken a look at the menu and you knew in advance that you would not be able to afford to split the bill. That was sometimes one of the downsides of being friends with Tom and Harrison. They sometimes forgot that their salary was significantly higher than yours. After all, they were still simple, good-natured guys, never saying no to a quick takeout meal or ordering pizza, drinking a beer at the local pub. And sometimes, they offered to go to prestigious places, not paying attention to money, wanting to please their friends or family.

Currently you were in your room. You were throwing countless of clothes across the room, trying to choose what you could wear to this lunch. Harry stopped dead when one of your dresses flew out of your room, right in front of his nose, blocking his way. You had left your door open and your spontaneity got the better of your best friend.

“Easy, Tiger. I had no idea your clothes had the capacity of Dr. Strange's cape.” He joked before coming into your bedroom.

You turned to find Harry leaning against your doorframe, a smirk encrusted on his face. You gave him an unamused frown and his smile widened. This wasn’t funny at all; you were stressed as hell. It’s not like you still had feelings for Harrison and try to impress him – to be honest, you still had feeling for your friend, but not as intense as before, you had drawn a definitive line on the possibility of a romantic relationship with him, which had helped you a lot. – But you didn’t want to be dressed down and looked like a clown.

“Come on Munchkin, it’s just a lunch. At worst, Harrison can still make it looks like he invited you out for charity, sort of “Make a Wish” event” Harry joked, in his significant humor.

“Go to hell, Robert. Don’t you have a pack bag to make, mister “I’m going to Spain to help my superstar brother to hold his tea while he’s filming”?”

“Rude… I’m a film director, now”

Not for that, you thought to yourself, but don't have the balls to tell your best friend. You didn't want to take this joke too far. You smiled at his cute pretending offended face. You pouted mockingly before biting your lip. You loved the dynamics of your relationship so much. Your humor, sarcasm, your outspokenness, that's what brought you together. Harry pulled you lightly from your closet with a comforting wink. He chose Yves Saint Laurent poppy red wool jersey flared pants that Tom gave you on your birthday. You smiled at his choice. You liked these pair of pants because they were sparkling with vitality, the color was flamboyant. Harry then gave you a satin pearl-colored shirt from Zara and you laughed at the drastic brand difference.

“Oh I see. A classy look but no more than £ 1000 that's pretty smart,” you joked.

The choice of your outfit once again proved the reality of hanging out with wealthy people. You were not poor; you could even be grateful for the life you had had. But it would never occur to you to give your friends clothes that were going over the miles and cents. To be honest, you wanted it. You wanted to live up to the gifts your friends sometimes gave you. But the truth seemed quite different: you had cried over the price of a used Rolex you wanted to give Tom for his birthday. Even having saved for 6 months, you could not afford such a gift.

“Shut up, don’t be so dramatic. Wear that necklace Harrison gave you for Christmas. I’m sure you’ll look fine”

“Thank you,Baz…I guess. ”

You kissed his cheek and then invited him out of your room so you could get ready. It didn't take you more than thirty minutes, time to put on the outfit your best friend had chosen and to put on light makeup. When you were finally ready, you walked to Tom's room. He had offered to take you to the restaurant where you were to join Harrison. But when you got to his ajar door, you could hear the soft sound of a slight snoring. You let out a chuckle before ordering an Uber. You knew he had spent almost a full month in Los Angeles and hadn't returned until early last week. You wanted to leave him as much as possible alone so that he could rest before his trip to Spain for the reshoots of his film Uncharted. Tom was a boy who loved being in touch with those close to him, but you also felt his need to recharge his batteries. That's why you preferred to let him sleep.

You went down to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before leaving. When your Uber arrived, you left a note on the refrigerator to let the boys know you were safely gone. It was little everyday things that made you look normal that you enjoy. A post-it on the fridge, a table organizing household chores had been drawn up. Note to yourself; It was Harrison's turn to take care of the laundry.

☙♡❧

You had really hoped this was just a grotesque nightmare. That it wasn't real. He was going to arrive; he was just stuck into the traffic. Isn't it?

But you were there, waiting for over an hour and a half, without any news from your friend. Some people watched you with pity eyes, the others didn't give you any attention. You internally thank Harry for choosing your outfit. You didn't look like a lost kitten in this prestigious setting. It didn't prevent you from being ashamed right now. The waiter had urged you to order several times but you had told him that you were expecting someone, that he would arrive any minute. The last time, you didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But it never happened. Harrison never came to your dinner. You were alone, sitting at a table, pathetically waiting for your friend to show up. It didn't look like him. He had never stand you up before. And not to improve this embarrassing moment, the waiter came to you again. This time, with a man in a suit. He was elegant, carried himself proud but diplomatic. They stopped at your table, a tight smile on their faces. No doubt the man in the suit was to be the manager.

"Miss, my employee told me that you seemed to have occupied this table for a while now. I am sorry to tell you that if you do not order a few things, you will have to leave the establishment"

You looked at him with misty eyes. You have never been so ashamed in your life. You just nod your head, not trusting your voice just yet. After taking a deep breath, you finally apologize to them before telling them that you are going to leave. The manager of the restaurant, out of politeness awkwardly apologizing for this uncomfortable situation.

You've finished the Dry Martini that you allowed yourself to, paying for it with whatever pride you have left. You pulled your cellphone out of your purse and decided to call one of the boys. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey ... can you please pick me up?"

Your voice was shaky, you were so ashamed but it was less distressing than having to walk the Walk of Shame to your house or cry in an uber. You hung up and shared your location. You left the lobby, leaving the restaurant, standing in front of the entrance to the establishment. The air refreshed your cheeks burning with shame. Luckily it wasn't raining today. Which was pretty nice compared to that early summer you had had.

When you saw Harry's car pulled up in front of you, you slid into the passenger seat without a word. The curly redhead gave you a heartwarming smile but you definitely could see a spark of annoyance in his eyes. You sigh, resigned while shrugging your shoulders. It was obvious that your friendship with Harrison was still shaky.

"I'm sorry, love. He's a jerk about it."

Coincidentally, like a mitigating circumstance, your phone vibrated, receiving a notification from Harrison. You were chewing your lip with a sort of anguish and irritation, watching the message the blond had sent you.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. My agent called me for a pretty urgent casting briefing. She's detained me until now. Are you still okay for this dinner?"

You were angry. You were mature enough and had known the boys long enough to understand their obligations. The fact that Harrison had a lastminute meeting with his agent and missed your dinner wasn't a problem. The problem was, he made you wait for over an hour and a half before notifying you. You wanted him to call you to let you know, or a simple text just after he knew for the meeting. You typed a short answer, shorter than this was impossible. "No". You rested your head against the headrest, turning your gaze to your best friend.

"Hey, he's a Netflix star now" you replied to his last words.

Your voice cracked on the last syllables and your eyes filled with tears. You weren't usually that emotional but the anguish and shame really took over you. Harry noticed, unsure of how to instantly respond to your distress. He would have liked to stop on an emergency lane to take you in his arms but he already had 2 penalties to pay, respectively for speeding and prohibited parking ... a third fine would not be really welcome. He simply placed his hand on your thigh, drawing circles on your pants to comfort you. He simply moved his hand to shift gears and instantly rested it on your leg whenever he had the chance. This gesture soothed you, enjoying the touch, grateful to have someone as your best friend to mop up your pain.

☙♡❧

Arriving at the apartment, no sign of Harrison. When you walked in the kitchen, you saw Tom sitting at the counter, scrolling his phone. He looked up at you, not directly noticing your annoyed expression.

"Wow..you're ... gorgeous. I love these pants on you"

You smiled, a little amused by the compliment. Of course he loved the pants, it was a gift from him. But your smile didn’t reach your eyes. With a look on your expression then on the clock, the actor understood that something went wrong. Harry was right behind and still no trace of Harrison. It was suspicious. Tom gave you a worried look.

"Do I have to ask…Never mind, I’m still going to ask. How was lunch with Harrison?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait... right, he didn't show up" you said sarcastically although you could hear the hurt in your voice.

Tom frowned, biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance. Harrison was his best mate since forever and he knew him so well. It seemed strange from Harrison to not show up. The blond has told him he was happy to see you again and walking through this whole awkward “feeling situation” because he didn’t want to lose you. In a quick movement, he rose from his stool to walk around the counter. The next second, he took you in his comforting arms and you finally let yourself go under the sight of the two Holland brothers.

“It seems like you need a break of all this shit” Tom said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

You let a little laugh escape through your tears. He wasn't wrong. You really needed to get away from this whole situation for a moment. But how? Harry watched the scene unsure of what to do. You were his best friend and it seemed like the solace you found was never in his arms. He had tried in the car, however, as best he could. He walked over to the counter to make you both a cup of tea. It seems that as cliché as it sounds, tea comforts you, as the English person you used to be. As the redhead waited patiently for the water to boil, a flash of genius - according to him - crossed the glare of his eyes.

“Why doen't she come with us to Spain?”

His brother's words seemed to suit Tom, who released his hold on you. You opened your eyes wide, not sure of what you had just heard. Go to Spain, with them? Once again, you knew you were going to argue on this proposition. The idea was not bad, Spain seemed a rather pleasant country. But you had just graduated and had a student job to save as much as possible. However, you could not afford to leave for several days in Spain, at the last minute. Plus, what were you going to do while Tom was filming and Harry was assisting him? He was sure the film's production crew wasn't going to give you a pass because Tom had decided.

“Yeah! That’s it, you’re coming with us”

“Tom, I have a student job. I can’t just…decide to go to Spain.”

“You never take a leave, come on. It’s not negotiable”

You were looking at Harry for help but he just shrugged. After all, he was the one who had initiated the idea of including you on the trip. You were trying to find a valid excuse to stay home. You really didn't want to impose yourself.

“I can’t afford that” you said, trying your best to convince him to quit the idea.

“I don’t care, it’s not even a problem. You coming to Spain with us.”

"Omg, does Z dominate you in bed to make you so bossy in life?"

Harry almost spitted his tea and laughed out loud while Tom gave you shocked eyes with pinky cheeks. You had always been sassy but hanging out with the boys had made you even more sassy than ever. How many times haven't you heard Tuwaine or Harry make fun of Harrison or Tom on the sex subject? Being a girl seemed to make you an untouchable character. The boys had never teased you about your relationships or your sexual partners. And while you've always had feelings for Harrison, you've had your own experiences. Anyway, you had just gone with the flow and Tom's brand-new romantic relationship with his co-star gave you the perfect opportunity.

“That's not the point.” stammered the actor.

Your smile widened, proud of your joke and the way Tom reacted. You heard Harry clear his throat. He had his phone in his hand and his own smile didn't bode well for you.

"The production is okay but it's at Tom's expense."

“You got to be kidding me…”

☙♡❧

You ended up in Spain with two of your best friends. You knew you had limited time before Tom had to fly back to Los Angeles for some Spider-man: No Way Home reshoots. So, you enjoyed as much as possible: accompanying the boys to the golf course - even though you weren't very involved in the sport -, spending time to visit touristic places when they were on set, talking with Rachael and other people from the set. You really enjoyed your trip.

On Wednesday evening you went out to a restaurant with Tom, Harry and two other friends/tom’s colleagues. You couldn't deny that it was fun. You had the opportunity to sunbathe a little while walking through the streets of Madrid. Spain was doing you good and not once did you think about your wobbly friendship with Harrison. You've just left the restaurant when a few fans politely show up to take pictures with Tom. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of how kind Tom had always taken in a few snaps when his fans approached him respectfully - and there weren't too many of them -. You sighed with pleasure before stepping away from the group. You leaned against a wall and took out the packet of cigarettes that Tom had asked you to keep in your clutch bag. Being an occasional smoker, he wouldn't blame you if you took one from him. You tilted your head back to admire the dark starry night when you felt a presence by your side. You narrowed your eyes in mischief as you looked sideways: Harry was there, his nose wrinkled from your cigarette. He didn't like it too much Silence filled your bubble despite the hubbub outside. You were in public and it was not surprising to meet travelers and Madrid residents mingling with the crowd to enjoy this pleasant evening.

"I wish this trip never ends." You finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he was just looking at you. You were a little tanned, the Madrid sun had done wonders on you; your loose hair framed your face and the summer dress you had chosen for the restaurant looked great on you: It was a short red floral summer dress with a shingle collar. Light enough to keep you from suffocating but decent to wear on any casual occasion. You were beautiful, stunning. His heart exploded at the sight of you, so much that it hurt a few times.

"I wish I had been there for you more." he finally confessed

You finally turned your head towards him and shrug your shoulders, smiling shyly but sincerely.

“You were working, Baz”

“I meant…not only here in Spain. I’m sorry to have let you down recently”

You give him a confused look. He hadn't been a bad friend but he kept implying it. You just shook your head negatively to brush his words away. Harry had always been important to you. He had been the first to step towards you. It was him who introduced you to the rest of the gang. He had always been concerned about you.

The night you met, you immediately clicked up with him. And to be honest, for a moment, you thought he liked you that night. But he never took that step towards you and you never did either. You dreaded that if you kissed him, he would think you were interested in his notoriety by proxy. So you just acted like any reasonable person would - accept the status he gave you. And the second time he asked you to join him with his brother and his friends, you met Harrison and your heart exploded.

"I'm glad you brought me here"

“I'm happy you accepted to come.”

“I didn't really have the choice, Baz” you joked.

He laughed slightly. You weren't wrong, he and Tom had practically dragged you onto the plane, leaving you no choice to be by their side. But you could only thank them, especially Harry who had the idea. You took another hit on your cigarette before leaning back to check out where Tom was with his fans. He seemed to be talking with the girls and didn't seem overwhelmed. So, you didn't want to interrupt him and were just going to wait for him to finish. Harry played with his hands nervously, looking straight ahead and then at you. He seemed to be repeating this game for several seconds before finally asking the question that was in his mind.

“Have you heard from Harrison?” Harry asked quite casually

“He sent me several texts to apologize and wished me to have a good time in Madrid.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

You swallow hard before looking at him. There was an indecipherable glint in his eyes and you weren't sure what to make of it. You drew another puff from your cigarette, maybe that would save you from entering this conversation. But Harry's presence was all around you and you couldn't really escape. So you've decided to be honest.

“It’s complicated. I suppose so...”

“Mhmm”

“But my friendship with Haz is important, I don't want to lose him because of it.”

“Yeah, you can't imagine how well I understand you” he sighed

“What do you mean? Who’s the lucky girl..or guy ?”

Harry turned to you frankly and you did the same, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette. You are well aware that the conversation was taking a more serious turn. He moistened his lips and walked over to you. Harry was full of things: he was full-loving, sarcastic, talented, daring, impertinent. But Harry was mostly awkward when it came to love. Not just an attraction, no, love with real feeling. Delicately, hesitantly, he reached out to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers, cautiously. You were frozen, your eyes fixed on him admiring his audacity.

"She's the most beautiful girl I ever seen." he said with a small smile.

Harry walked over to you and your heart was pounding at breakneck speed. Harry had ... feelings for you? You were really confused. Since when had he developed his feelings? Why didn't he tell you about it? Why hadn't he tried anything so far? So, were you right from the start? Was there a tension between you since the beginning of your friendship, since your met? But above all, did you want him to take that step? Instinctively, your body responded. You parted your lips and closed your eyes. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your cheek and were waiting for the touch of his lips. But it never happened.

"Hey baz, y/n..we're going back to the hotel" Tom said, taking his eyes off his phone. "I…Mhmm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland fic #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #tom holland

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 1 - Frankenstein

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies

“We buried you.”

The feast before Kim Jang Won is absolutely stunning. Lemon meringue tarts, strawberry smoothies (with actual strawberry bits in them), pancakes and freshly buttered croissants, a gorgeous transparent glass pot with the golden shade of chamomile tea and a beautiful tray of puffs and eclairs.

It would be even more stunning if it wasn’t her view every morning though.

“Hey, um, don’t we have like alternating menus or something for breakfast? I feel like I’m eating the same thing every morning now, it’s kinda getting tacky.”

“Miss Kim, I hope you know you’re the one who decides what the menu is. You chose this set like a week ago and you told us not to change it for the next two weeks.”

Jang Won sneers at her butler, arguably the only person on the property to has the guts to talk to her in a way that could get her fired.

“You’re lucky I can trust you.”

Ro Il Jung purses his lips into a thin white line, scratching his cheek with one of those knuckly, wrinkly-skin-covered fingers of his. “You seem to forget that I wanted to retire last year, Miss Kim.”

Jang Won huffs childishly, sticking her tongue out, now a gentle, thick shade of smoothie on her tongue. “I’ll let you retire when I find someone else I can trust, Mr Ro. It’s just too bad I don’t have anybody in mind right now.”

Mr Ro shakes his head like a parent disapproving of his child, but a house guard pulling the heavy doors of the entrance over accompanied by some urgent yelling tears his attention away from the owner of the mansion.

Jang Won looks up from her butter and croissant, at Mr Ro, who excuses himself before heading for the entrance hall.

“Sir,” He begins before he can even note the visitor. “If you could--”

“Mr Ro!”

Jang Won hears her butler’s words fade to a complete silent, only listening to their visitor talk. But it’s strange, because it’s a familiar voice...

Mr Ro cannot believe the sight before his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still working here. It’s so great to see you again!” Then the visitor pulls Mr Ro into a hug, harshly patting the space between his shoulder blades.

The lady of the house cannot take it anymore, not when she can’t eavesdrop on the conversation occurring in her own halls. So she gets up from the table, heels clacking against the marble floor as she heads into the entrance hall.

“Alright now, who’s got the guts to stop me in the middle of my French breakfast this morning?”

Mr Ro turns in silent shock, eyes wide and glaring while Jang Won processes the face of the visitor.

The man hadn’t looked like he aged a day since he was--

“I’m sorry,” Jang Won scoffs, waving her beautifully done manicured fingernails in the air. “If this is some impractical joke, please do tell because my brain is just about to explode from the sight right now. Y’know,” She gestures to her head and mimics the sound of a bomb.

“Jang Won...” The visitor strides towards her, arms wide. But she raises a palm and shifts backwards, a cautious half-smile mixed with a frown plastered to her flawless skin.

“Not another step, nuh-uh,” Waving a finger before his nose, she shakes her head. “There is no way in Hell you can be standing here.”

“Oh, but I am, love,” Once a warm voice that sang her to sleep, Jang Won cannot decide if the tears in her eyes are welling from relief or fear. “I’m home.”

“No... no!” She slaps away his outstretched hands. “We... we buried you...”

“And I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now, my child, but... we have more important things to worry about.”

Mr Ro’s face is contorted with a mess of confusion and anxiety and he watches the first tears fall down Jang Won’s cheeks.

“What...? ‘More important’-- No, how is anything more important than you... standing here?” The last word comes out like a final breath, at a volume just enough for him to hear.

“I came bearing news, Jang Won. I-- Well...” He rubs the back of his head, eyes tilted down to his feet. “Because I’ve return to the board of administration now... part of the company now comes back to... me--”

What?

“And... you cannot inherit any part of the company unless you are married to someone from a family from the same administration board.”

Jang Won’s tears solidify into fumes of anger as the thought runs through her neurons. The middle aged man begins to panic when he can read the rage in her eyes, her fists now clenched and the markings of her rings probably embedded into the flesh of her palm. Her knuckles begin to turn white as does his face, ever so slightly.

“Now, now, love. I know what you’re thinking and we can sit down and have a chat about this--”

“‘Sit down and have a chat’?” Jang Won scoffs miserably, lower jaw hanging agape. “Why don’t we sit down and let me ask you whiCH SCIENTIST MADE YOU FRANKENSTEIN?!”

The hallways of the mansion echo the shouts, the sound waves bouncing back and forth between the marble walls mostly adorn with gorgeous, one-in-a-million paintings.

“That’s not important now, hun. I just need you to understand that without this marriage, you will lose the house and everything you own from HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“I built HERA & ARTEMIS after you were fucking bURIED! Who are you to tell me that you will inherit it ownership and I can’t just because I’m not married?!”

“These were instructions from The Board, Jang Won. I had absolutely no say over this--”

“BULLSHIT! If you have the power to take ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS just because you climbed out of your own grave, why don’t you have the power to help m-- Oh, oh...” Jang Won frowns in disdain, disgust welling her lungs and her gut.

“What?” His eyes widen and shoulders shrug.

“You came back just to tell me this... because you want HERA & ARTEMIS for yourself.”

“What-- No--”

"You... low-life... scumbag!" The sharp shatter of the glass cabinet behind him echoes through the entrance hall of the mansion. One of the palm-sized statues sitting on the table in the middle of the circular hall lands amongst the billion pieces of glass on the marble floor.

"You give me my freedom and now you tell me I have to get married?!" The final word is literally pushed through her teeth when she cannot clench her jaws even harder. The tremors vibrating up her fist and into her arm and then her entire body makes her look like a volcano ready to erupt, so if these people haven't gotten enough, they have yet to see what's in store.

"Just who the HELL do you think you are?!" Grabbing another one of those tiny statues, Jang Won throws it into the other glass door of the cabinet.

"Jang Won, will you calm down?!"

"Don't you DARE tell me to calm down! You waltz back into this house after GOD knows how long- Hell, we BURIED you!"

"There was a mistake of the body identification and frankly, I expected a warmer welcome from you!"

"HA! A ‘warmer welcome’?! What do you want me to do? Set the entire house on fire? Do you want me to? Because I will!" The man has his brows furrowed back, palms out stretched to her. The mansion staff have all gathered a safe distance around the two of them, Mr Ro and some of those closer to Jang Won trying their best to get to her and calm her nerves but there is just absolutely no way she isn’t going to hurl a brick at her father.

"I can't BELIEVE you're standing there as if you own this place," The muscles around Jang Won’s nose twitches as the frown sinks deeper into her forehead. "I want you to hear this mighty well and crystal clear. You may have been the one who gave me life, but you will never EVER be my dad.”

The huffs that are billowing out Jang Won’s nostrils are starting to hurt.

"There is not a single cent you're stepping on - or touching, for that matter - that belongs to you. The only reason why I haven't fucking put a bullet through your right eye is because I'd go to jail and every thing I've worked for would be thrown out the window.”

“Now, now, love, we can sit down and be civilized about this—”

“Fuck you,” The anger surges through her, and she picks up one more palm-sized statue from the blue resin table. The heavy bronze weight leaves her fingers, and before it can hit the slightly aged man, someone reaches out and catches it instead.

“What the HELL are you doing?!” The scream echoes through the hall of the mansion. Younghoon sighs heavily, hand retreating back to his side as he hands the statue to one of the house staff.

“You have no right to get involved in this—”

“Jang Won, let’s go,” Younghoon strides across the space and grabs her arm, back-facing his father and trying to pull her in the opposite direction. “We can talk about this in your office.”

“How are you thinking straight?! We BURIED him! We watched his coffin get lowered into—”

“I know! I was there!” His eyes flutter shut in frustration, shoulders raising as he sucks in a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. “There’s no point destroying your own property over this. We can carry out some investigations, figure out what really happened, then we’ll work from there.”

The grip on her arm tightens when her instincts try to writhe away from him, but obviously, he doesn’t relent.

“Don’t do it. It’s not worth your time, or mine.”

He stares down at Jang Won, but it doesn’t scare her, not when she has a ghost standing right in the middle of some shattered mess. Not one cut on him.

Younghoon grimly shuts the door as Jang Won stomps over to her office desk and rests her palms flat against the Agar Wood surface. With a sharp, swift feat, she swipes nearly all the documents off the furniture. But when she misses the empty glass (that would usually be filled with some kind of alcohol or soda), she doesn't hesitate to pick it off the desk and propel it into the marble by the television mounted to the wall.

The shatter startles Younghoon as he whips around, eyes darting frantically between her and the mess she’s made.

"Jang Won!"

"Should I be concerned you don't seem one bit bothered that a dead man is standing in our living room - MY living room?"

"That dead man is our father."

"No, that dead man WAS our father before he ditched us! How are you not- UGH!"

Frustrated, furious and absolutely exasperate, she plops down into one of the two sofas sitting in the middle of the office, feet almost tempted to kick the frosted glass table in the middle but she holds herself back. Younghoon manages to get a few house staff into the room, who hurriedly help clear the glass and return the documents to the table. Fingers pressed into her temples, Jang Won could only imagine the gratification she could receive have if she had the chance to ram her first into someone's face.

Younghoon waits for the staff to leave, then stands by the sofa opposite her, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. The late morning sun reflects off his soft, dark brown locks when he absent-mindedly rubs the back of his head and he proceeds to unbutton his blazer to allow him a seat. The leather squeaks under his weight before he leans his elbows on his knees, knuckles resting under his lips and chin.

"Please tell me you're actually thinking and not just trying to look pretty. You're in my house now, not some studio photoshoot."

"I'm thinking about where to put a whole person for you."

"Don't bother, he's moved half his things into the first guestroom. He's probably holding a conductor's wand right now and asking the staff to help him with the second half."

"Have you called the funeral services?"

"And say what? 'Hey sir, have you... perhaps mis-screwed a coffin about 2 years back and now we might have a problem of a zombie'?"

"I'm just saying someone might've paid someone to replace the bodies!" Younghoon frowns, eyes stuck to the rug under his feet. "We don't know how it happened but someone MUST know, right?"

"I think your best bet is the asshole living down the hall now."

"He's not gonna budge, we both know that."

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, thanks for pointing out the obvious."

"I'm just trying to help. You need to stop your nonsensical whining and use your brain like how you used it to get all this money."

Jang Won picks up a pillow and hurls it into Younghoon. “You’re lucky you still stick around, else I’d have the both of you screwed over.”

Younghoon catches the pillow, holding it to his side. “The day I stop looking out for you is the day I die, alright? So you can be rest assured I’ll--”

“Miss Kim!” Mr Ro’s voice calls out from outside the office.

“What is it, Mr Ro?” Younghoon turns and returns the call, head tilted towards the door. It croaks open, and Mr Ro’s eyes are tired, wary as he sticks his head in.

“Your father just left and... and I think you should see the news.” Mr Ro pushes past the heavy door and reaches for the remote sitting on the frosted glass. The television screen mounted above the fire place flickers on, and there it was, her father’s face.

“The Board has just confirmed the ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS will thus forth be returned to Kim Jo-Pil, father of Kim Jang Won, the current owner. Investigations as to Kim Jo-Pil’s supposed death two years ago are still ongoing.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“We’ll be-- Wha-- The Board’s just come in with some new information! Kim JO-Pil has announced a marriage between Kim Jang Won, current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS and Lee Juyeon, the next-in-line to becoming the next Director of Apple, South Korea.”

Younghoon’s eyeballs are about to bludgeon out of his eye sockets. “Jang Won... I know what you’re thinking... But don’t--”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM!”

#lee juyeon #the boyz lee juyeon #lee juyeon fanfic #lee juyeon scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #tbz juyeon #tbz lee juyeon #juyeon #the boyz juyeon #juyeon fanfic #juyeon scenarios #love me a little less

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 3 years

Text

@trueblue-escapist this one got long! :) (edit: now on ao3)

It was by sheer fortune that the message arrived while he was dining at Beau and Yasha's home.

They were trying some of the latter's experimental recipes. Fortunately Yasha had progressed very well in the last several months; this was now the fourth meal Caleb had been over for since Beau declared her love's attempts at Empire foods to be reliably nonpoisonous.

He was comfortable, speculating with Beau over her recent visit to Shattengrod. So when Jester began speaking in his head, he almost dropped his fork.

With strained panting—"Caleb, we need some help."

Caleb’s thoughts immediately went to static. He held up a hand as her voice continued, eyes wide, and both Beau and Yasha fell quiet with concern.

"There’s a lot of fishy people and I have, um. One diamond. We’re on the ship. Hope you aren’t busy—"

Abrupt cut-off. No continuation. He shot a look across the table to the other two, and they seemed to instantly read the tension on his face for what it was. They darted from their seats as he replied, "I am with Beau and Yasha. Hang in there, please. We’re coming."

"Sword?" called Yasha from another room.

"Sword. Beau," Caleb shouted, his adrenaline spiking with every second they were still here, "diamonds?"

"One," came her terse response. "I got it."

He stood up. The chair legs screeched against Beau and Yasha’s nice hardwood. Dug a hand through his hair and pulled half of it out of the tie.

Next he slapped his hands together. A strand of amber formed from his pinched thumbs and middle fingers as he drew them apart. Gods, his trembling hands shook the arcane thread. Ten seconds since Jester’s message.

"Essek," Caleb said to the thread, which vibrated with each word. "If you aren’t busy and have the spells. Retrieve Caduceus if you could and bring him to the Nein Heroez. It’s urgent. And diamonds," he added hastily. The thread dissipated.

Yasha and Beau emerged together from the hall with weapons in hand as the reply came: "I will contact Caduceus, then, and keep you updated. Hopefully I can be of aid. Stay safe, Caleb."

Caleb closed his eyes for a single breath and tried to absorb Essek’s soft, controlled caution.

They were coming. They would be okay.

Without needing to look, he held his hands to Yasha and Beau. "Uk’otoa is being an exceptional nuisance."

Beau scowled and said, "I fucking told Fjord to do something with that ball"—and they were off.

***

Jester woke up to what felt like a giant spike piercing through her head, or maybe a handaxe being sunk into her skull—but if it kept going forever instead of happening in an instant. Her stomach felt like a tiny pool of boiling acid that the ship kept rocking back and forth.

She moaned, curling up harder and pressing the heels of her hands to her temples. It didn’t really help, but the pulsing pain eased a little over some time.

"Arty?" she eventually managed.

"I’m so sorry, my dear," murmured his low voice by her ear. "I came as quickly as I could."

"It’s okay. Water?"

She felt a small weasel tongue lick her cheek, then retreat.

After about a minute of measured, careful breathing through the migraine, Jester heard a door crack open and winced from the brighter light now shining in from the hallway.

"Sorry," whispered a familiar voice, and Jester might have started crying at the sound of his Zemnian accent if she wasn’t already teary-eyed from pain.

The door closed, dimming the room again to its singular lantern.

She did her best to uncurl as Caleb set down a bowl and cup on the small table nearby and brought over a chair to her bedside. He reached for his neck, too, and a crimson weasel slipped into his hands.

"Thanks," she said as he returned Sprinkle to her shoulder.

"Of course. Would you like help sitting up?"

"Please."

She had to rest her head on Caleb’s shoulder for a minute when sitting up gave her a rush of a dizzy spell. His hand had rubbed up and down her arm. He smelled like sweat and fish guts and leather.

Eventually Jester had her back against the wall and the cup of water in her hands as she took a careful sip.

"Everyone’s alright," began Caleb, voice still hushed in consideration of her headache. "We took care of them all shortly after you went down, and Fjord was able to heal you a little bit. Essek arrived with Caduceus not long after."

"That’s good."

She closed her eyes and sipped more water. The warm weight of Sprinkle was draped around her neck.

Gods. Jester loved her friends so much.

"Where is everyone? Where’s Fjord?" she asked.

"Out on the deck cleaning up and figuring out what to do next," came the wry response. "Beau gave Fjord a piece of her mind about that orb. Caduceus suggested to try hiding it in the Happy Fun Ball."

"Aw, man. That’s a really good idea."

"Ja. So we are figuring out who will take it in there and where to put it."

She nodded sluggishly, eyes still closed.

"I’m sorry," said Caleb after a long moment. "Do you want to sleep?"

"No. I'm just tired."

That last word came out with a bit more... a bit more than Jester had intended to say it with. She chewed the inside of her cheek and took a sip of water.

She could feel Caleb's gaze on her. "Is it something you would like to talk about?"

The headache continued to pulse in her temples. She stared down into her cup, at the water sloshing side to side from the rocking of the ship. "If you guys are going to Yussa's later, I want to come with. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Mama."

"Of course."

Jester breathed in and out and continued, "It's been a year and I think I'm sick of sailing."

"Ah."

"I mean, there's been so many cool things. The Lucidian Ocean is huge. One time we saw a sea horse that was big enough to ride on. And the port cities we've visited have all been beautiful. But most of the time it's just this boat. And less Arty. And Uk'otoa attacking us for the cloven crystal. I can't even prank people whenever I get bored because it's all the same people, and it's way less fun to keep pranking the same people over and over again."

Caleb made a considering noise. She sipped water, chewing the inside of her cheek some more.

Slowly he asked, "Are you... thinking of staying with your mother for a while?"

"Maybe."

Peaceful silence. They listened to the sounds of wood creaking and the ocean undulating. Jester felt the shittiness of her body continue to ease, and she set down the water to take a sniff at the bowl instead. Some stew, still warm.

As she had a cautious taste, Caleb said, "Hey."

She brought down the bowl and looked at him.

"Would you like to see something cool?"

"Of course I would like to see something cool, Caleb."

His smile as she sat up with anticipation and set down the bowl was very welcome—and a pretty cool sight already. But she watched him pull out a piece of wool and rub it between two fingers, and all of a sudden there was a cat in his lap and another cat on his shoulders.

Jester gasped, hands flying to her face. "Are those your cats?"

The smile on his face only got bigger and warmer as he looked down at the illusory one in his lap cleaning its brown-and-white face. "Yes. This one is Gretel, she is still somewhat a kitten. The other one is Mac, which is short for mackerel because he was eating one from a rubbish heap when I found him."

"Oh my god, Caleb, that’s so adorable." She beamed and leaned in to wiggle her fingers at illusion-Gretel, cooing without caring that it wasn’t the real cat.

He rubbed the wool in his hand and illusion-Gretel began to purr loudly.

She could feel the dimples in her cheeks from grinning. "I love them."

"They will both be very glad to hear that and will eagerly exploit your love to make you spoil them."

"Well, of course I’ll spoil them, they’re so perfect."

Caleb’s smile eased into something soft. "Would you like to meet them in person, then? Before you return to the Nein Heroez?"

The excitement welling up inside Jester faltered.

Oh, right.

She twisted her fingers together, fixing her gaze on the blood crusted in the space between them and beneath her nails. "Um. Yeah, I would love to, Caleb. But probably I'm not going to come back here."

No response except a careful inhale.

She picked at a bloodied crease in her palm and continued, "Fjord and I talked a couple weeks ago. It wasn't like an argument or anything, don't worry! We're one hundred and ten per cent still best friends who love each other and everything, you know? But he loves being captain of the Nein Heroez and doesn't really plan on stopping anytime soon. Or doing anything else. And I want to do more. The world's so big, and there's like a dozen other planes I could see, Arty promised he'd show me around the Feywild—"

Caleb's long-fingered hand placed itself on top of her fidgeting ones, and Jester's rambling mouth fell silent. The illusory cats were gone.

"It's fine, Jester," he said. She looked up at his furrowed brow and crooked smile. "I understand."

Deep breath in and out. Jester returned a similar smile. "Yeah."

Seeming reassured, he leaned back in his chair and seemed to look off elsewhere, his brow still furrowed in thought.

In the lull, she took up the bowl of stew again with more relish. The weight of the news she'd been ignoring had lifted from her shoulders, and with it some of her worries. She hadn't known how people would react. The more reasonable voice in her mind figured that everyone would take the relationship change with ease, reminding her of Yasha's advice in Eiselcross a year ago. The louder, more anxious voice had stressed over whether any of them might judge her for being a bad girlfriend.

Apropos of nothing, gaze still a little distant, Caleb said, "Essek and I are in a relationship."

Halfway through a sip of the stew, Jester's mouth fell open. "Really?"

His lips twitched at the squeal in her voice. "Ja."

She smiled, said, "Aw, I'm happy for you two," and returned to her stew to try and stamp down the sudden, strange sense of instability overtaking her. Like her heart found itself stuck in the second between missing the next step down the stairs and falling.

"Thank you. I am telling you this, though, because Essek and I have had... somewhat of a similar conversation." His eyes flickered to meet her startled gaze briefly, and she saw a bittersweet wryness in them. "Neither of us expect the other to be, well. Committed. My whole self, more or less, is dedicated to my home. I want to make it a better place. Essek has very different goals in mind for his future. We love each other, but between my life and his constant vagrancy, it would be unfair to expect us to stay the same. And, you know. I don't have as much time as he does, anyway."

Jester had the bowl of stew in her lap now, unable to stop staring at Caleb. He finally seemed to notice her attention and awkwardly fixed his eyes on a spot of the wall somewhere to her right and up.

In her chest, time started again. Jester's heart safely found the next step instead of taking a tumble down the stairs.

"Thank you, Caleb," she said softly.

He returned to looking at her properly, and the renewed warmth in his expression helped resettle Jester's sense of the world even further. "I'm sure your mother could be much more reassuring."

"Maybe, but it's you."

Caleb went a little pink. The flush was still visible to Jester's eyes in the dim room. Thank the gods that the warmth in her own cheeks would be much harder for him to notice.

That was enough conversation for her at the moment. She shoved the bowl of stew back against her mouth.

(send me a brief widojest prompt!)

#cr #cr fanfiction #widojest #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #mentions of shad*wg*st and f/j #prim writes #prim post #trueblue-escapist #readmore

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

epiphany

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death]

word count: 3168

Age: 21 Year: Sep. 2015 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"So I was thinking, godparents," Bucky spoke up. He and Natasha were currently finishing setting up the baby's nursery in their new apartment.

They had found a nice two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, much to Natasha's dismay. Bucky thought it was the perfect place to start their new little family. It was also about a 20 to 30 minutes drive to Bucky's work and University campus. His mom and stepdad had even offered to help them out financially for a bit, just as long as Bucky continued on his path to graduate with his Masters in Music Technology in the Spring.

Bucky had managed to finish his bachelor's and masters program in just the span of 4 years, a whole year earlier than originally planned. He was proud of himself, if there's one thing he hadn't screwed up yet, it was his education. He had fully devoted himself to his education the last four years and it clearly paid off. He had also managed to get a good paying job at a studio as an engineer. He had his whole future all planned out, the pregnancy might've been a curve ball at the beginning but with the help of his family and therapist, he was handling it all so well.

"Oh you don't need to worry about the godparents, I have it all figured out already," Natasha tells him as she folds baby clothes, "I picked Abigail and Dylan."

Natasha on the other hand had decided to put her education on hold. Deciding she wanted to be a stay at home mom, Bucky constantly made sure that that's what she wanted. And she insisted every time that she was "made to be a stay at home mom". So Bucky had to reluctantly allow her to make that decision.

Which was one of the reasons why his parents had offered to help out for at least the first year or two, they had known their son was already stressing about finances, and trying to respect Natasha's decision. They figured two years would be a good enough time for the couple to build up their savings.

Bucky didn't like the fact that his parents were helping out with money, but he knew him and Nat wouldn't have been able to make it just on is current income alone. At least not until after he graduated, his boss had already promised a raise once he graduated, but that wasn't until May and the baby was due in the next two weeks. He promised to pay his parents back every cent they gave him, but they told him to just focus on being a good father.

"Abigail and Dylan?" He questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same Abigail and Dylan that showed up to the baby shower high, and proceed to get drunk, because and I quote 'babies are so boring'. That Abigail and Dylan?"

"Come on James, they were just joking, plus baby showers aren't necessarily the most fun thing in the world," she rolled her eyes.

"Can we at least each choose one godparent?" He suggested, "You can have Abigail as the Godmother and I can choose The Godfather."

"Like Sam?"

"No, not Sam. Steve," Bucky tells her.

"Oh, then no," she simply said, turning her back to him to continue putting clothes away.

"What's your problem?" Bucky asks annoyed, finally having enough of her attitude, "This entire pregnancy you've been against everything I've suggested."

"Hey, you got to choose Brooklyn," she turned around pointing her finger at him.

"Yeah because I couldn't fucking afford Manhattan Natasha," he stressed, trying not to raise his voice at her, "You didn't want to know the gender of the baby? Fine. You get to name the baby? Fine. You choose the color scheme of the nursery, fine. You choose the hospital. You choose the apartment. God damn Nat, I haven't done a single thing but pay for everything."

"And I thank-you for that," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't," he shakes his head in disbelief over her reactions, "You haven't thanked me once. I get that you're carrying our child, and I'm appreciative of that. But god damn Natasha, show me some respect. Show my family some respect!

"You didn't thank my mom, Rebecca, or Keith for everything they've done for you. For us. And I can't keep making up excuses to defend you," he raises his voice a little bit.

"If this relationship is ever going to work, you need to be respectful. You need to stop being so selfish. I get this isn't easy for you, but trust me, this isn't easy for me either. But I agreed to do this. I am stepping up. I want to be a part of my child's life. And I want us to be together and be family," he calms down, "But if you continue to act this way. I won't stay in this relationship."

"You're just going to abandon us?" Natasha asks grabbing her belly, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation.

"No, I won't abandon you both. But we won't be together," he explains, "I will always be in my child's life. I will always be there for them. I'm not going to put my child through the same thing I went through growing up. I promised myself I would never do that."

"So if that means that you and I break up, then so be it Natasha, I'll do it," he tells her, "My child will not grow up in a toxic household."

"Okay," she agrees, tears in her eyes, "I promise I will be better."

"Don't promise me Nat, just show me."

Two and a half weeks later Bucky found himself rushing an in-labor Natasha to the hospital, it was a quick k10 minute drive from their apartment. He quickly called his mom as the nurses wheeled Natasha away, with Bucky following.

Bucky's mom arrives within the next 10 minutes, as the nurses begin to prep Natasha in her hospital room.

Bucky sent a quick text to Steve and Sam, letting them know it was showtime and that he'll call them once the baby is here.

"How's Mama doing?" The doctor asked while entering the room, quickly taking her spot at the foot of the bed to examine Natasha.

"It hurts," Nat cried, as Bucky tried to soothe her.

"I know, but unfortunately you were too far dilated when you arrived, that it's too late for the epidural," the doctor softly explains, "But the good news is I feel Baby's head, so it's time to go."

Natasha looked over at Bucky, completely scared.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He leaned down an placed a soft kiss to her lips, helping her relax a bit.

"Ready?" The doctor looks up at Natasha.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, grabbing a hold of Bucky and his mom's hands on either side of her.

10 minutes later, a soft cry was heard in the room. Bucky quickly glanced over to where the doctor was had finished pulling the baby out.

"Congrats Mommy and Daddy, it's a girl," she announced.

"A girl?" Bucky whispered in awe, tears filling his eyes. He looked over at Natasha, who looked a lot paler in color.

"Nat?" He called out for her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her limbs went limp, and all the monitors started to go crazy.

The doctor quickly cut the umbilical chord and handed the baby off to an awaiting nurse.

"What's going on?" Bucky panicky asked.

"Get them out," the doctor told a nurse, ignoring Bucky's question.

A nurse quickly escorted Bucky and his mom out of the room.

"She's going to be okay right?" He asked his mom, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't know honey," she honestly said, wrapping her arms around her son. She never thought the first hug they shared after him becoming a father would be like this.

She continued to hold him, soothing him as she made silent prayers pleading for Natasha's safety.

10 minutes later. The same 10 minutes it took for them to arrive to the hospital. The same 10 minutes it took Natasha to bring their daughter into the world, the door opened.

Bucky quickly pulled apart from his mom to see the doctor walking out of the room.

The doctor's face was filled with sorrow. Bucky's mom immediately put her head down, already knowing the outcome.

"How is she?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Barnes, Natasha had a postpartum hemorrhage, due to issues with her placenta," the doctor carefully explains, "Unfortunately, there was too much blood loss. We weren't able to save her. She died."

Bucky immediately broke down, his mom quickly caught him. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his back.

He quickly pulled away after a couple of minutes, "The baby. How's the baby?"

"She's good. They took her to get checked just as a safety procedure," the doctor tells him, "She's on the pediatric floor. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah," he says, then pauses, "What about Natasha?"

"We can come get you to say goodbye once we get her cleaned," the doctor tells him.

"Okay, thank you," he says.

The doctor takes him and his mom to the pediatric floor. The walk was silent. No one knowing what to say. Bucky was no longer crying, but he felt numb the entire short walk. The doctor knocked quietly on a door, before opening.

"Doctor Monroe, this is Mr. Barnes, the baby's father," the doctor said, before stepping aside to let Bucky in, "Mr. Barnes, I'll have someone come get you when it's time."

"Okay, thank-you," he nodded his head.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?" Doctor Monroe asked, Bucky nodded his head.

"Meet your Daddy baby girl," the doctor said, gently handing the baby over to Bucky.

Bucky looked down at the small baby in his arms. He was instantly overcome with so many different emotions. The doctor walked out of the room, while Bucky's mom watched from outside threw the window.

"Hi baby girl," he whispered, sniffling back his tears, "You're so beautiful. I'm your dad. And boy am I lucky that you chose me to be your Dad. I always imagined this day would've turned out a lot differently. But life sure knows how to throw some real curveballs."

"Your mom would've loved you," he paused, letting it all sink in. His daughter will have to grow up without a mother. No little girl should have to be without a mom.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, as the baby was lulled to sleep, "I am so sorry your mom won't be able to physically be here. I am so sorry you'll have to grow up without her. No one should have to grow up without a parent. And trust me, I know what that's like. But lucky for us, I had the greatest pleasure of being raised by the most strongest and kindest mother. She taught me everything I know. Your grandma is the best lady you will ever meet. Lucky for us because god knows we're going to be needing her a lot.

"But you and I are incredibly fortunate that we won't ever be alone. We have so many people who care about us. You'll have all the female leadership you can ever need. We can do this," he strongly said to the sleeping baby, "You and I. We can do this. And I promise you this, that no matter what happens, you will always have me. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life. My love for you is greater than anything, anyone I've ever loved. My love for you will always be easy and unconditional. You'll never have to prove your worth to me. You're worth more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. I love you."

Bucky placed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. The first kiss he will ever give her, but definitely not the last.

There was a soft knock at the door, he gently called for the person to come in.

His mom quietly opened and closed the door behind her, stepping to her son's side.

"She's beautiful," she smiled down at the little baby.

"She really is," Bucky beamed. He looked over at his mom and noticed she was holding a clipboard, "What's that?"

"Birth certificate," she tells him, "One of the nurses gave it to me. They said there's no rush to fill it out. You have time."

"Here, I can do that," he said gently holding the baby out for her to take.

"Are you sure?" She asked, switching with him.

"Yeah, I have a name anyways."

"What is it?" She looked over at the name written down:

Poppy James Barnes.

[flashback]

After that talk Bucky had with Natasha, he noticed a serious change in her attitude. She was beginning to be more relaxed and more selfless. Bucky felt a tiny weight lifted off his shoulder. Hoping that these changes in her personality would stay.

"So what do you think about James for a boy?" Natasha asked one night, as she and Bucky made dinner together in their small kitchen.

"For a middle name?" He asked confused.

"No, his first name."

"Oh," he paused, "I actually have never liked the idea of giving a child their parents' name. I feel like it doesn't really give them a chance to be their own person. If their parent is successful then they feel the stress of always having to live up to that. And if their parent is crap then they're forever stuck with that reminder of that person."

"That makes sense," she agreed, understanding where he was coming from,

"Then how about James for the middle name. Whether it's a boy or girl."

"I would actually really like that," he smiled at her, "I would like that a lot."

They gathered up their own plates, and sat at their small round table.

"So what other names have you come up with?" Bucky asked her as he took a bite of his chicken.

"Truthfully, I haven't found any good names. All the girls keep making suggestions and they're way too out there," she tells him, "I don't want them to have a name that's too hard to pronounce or spell."

Natasha's phone started to ring, Bucky got up to grab it for her from the living room. By the time he handed it over to her it stopped ringing.

"What kind of flower is that?" He asked her, noticing her phone's Lock Screen background.

"The California Poppy," she tells him.

"Why do you have that as your background?"

"Well my mom was actually from California," she says, "She met my Dad when they both went to Harvard. They fell in love, so she decided to stay out here on the East Coast.

"The only clear memory I have from her was all the stories she used to tell me about poppy season. How the color just made everything so lively. Her parents would take her every season. I remember seeing all the photos of her as a child surrounded by all the flowers. We looked a like as children," she fondly smiled,

"She always talked about taking me to go see them, but she and Dad were always so busy. Then she got sick and there just wasn't a way for us to go. My grandparents tried to get some out here but it was too late. I never did get to see the poppies."

Natasha was silent for a moment, letting what she said sink in. She's never told anyone that story before, the memory would always make her sad. But now sitting here with Bucky, pregnant with their child, for the first time in her life her mother's death didn't bring her such sadness. She could smile at the memory and know she had the utmost best time with her mother, even if it was short lived, she knew her mother loved her. And she can't wait to shower that love onto the baby inside of her, once they were out.

"We should go," Bucky says, "Once the baby is here we should go when it's poppy season. Plus it'd be nice seeing Steve and Liz's life out west."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," her eyes teared up, seeing how generous this man was in front of her, "I'd really love that."

"Poppy, that's cute," Winifred smiled.

"Yeah, Nat would've loved it."

"They said if you were ready, you can say your goodbyes," she carefully said.

"Okay, you're good with her?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to go with you? The nurses can watch Poppy."

"No. I'd feel much better if she was with family," he tells her, "I'll be fine mom. I can do this."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

"Take all the time you need," the nurse told Bucky, as she led him to the room Natasha's body was in.

"Thank you," he quietly said.

She opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside.

He walked closer to the body on the bed. He immediately started crying at the sight of her lifeless body.

"God Nat," he cried, "I am so sorry. We never even discussed the possibility of this ever happening. I never even thought of this happening. God I don't know how I am going to ever do this alone. I never imagined myself ever raising a child alone."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"She's beautiful Nat, so incredibly beautiful," he tells her, "I wish you would've been able to see her. Hold her. I'm going to make sure she knows everything about you. There's not going to be a day where she doesn't know about her mother."

"When poppy season arrives I'm going to make sure to take her. Every year," he wipes away a tear, "Oh, I also named her Poppy. For you. For your mom. I promise I won't let you down. She's going to have the best life ever. I'll make sure of that. Thank-you for everything you've given me. I truly did love you. Goodbye Natasha." _________________ Age: 22

Location: CA

Year: May 2016

The car comes to a stop, parking in a spot next to a bunch of other cars. Bucky, Liz, and Steve get out of the car. Steve and Liz grab a few things from the trunk, while Bucky gets the smiley baby out of the car seat. Bucky places the baby into the stroller, Steve had gotten out. The three of them began to walk towards the field of poppies.

"Wow, there's a lot this year," Liz says, "Do you want to take her out?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her," Bucky says grabbing Poppy.

He walked ahead of Liz and Steve, taking in the moment with his daughter.

"Look at all the poppies," he whispers to the almost eight month old. She had a huge smile on her face taking in the sight around her.

She was making some babbling sounds, as if to agree with her dad.

The weather was perfect. The sun shining down on them, it wasn't too hot or too cold. Bucky just stared at the flowers, with a peaceful feeling washing over him. The last few months haven't been the easiest, but he was making it. They both were making it. Being here, gave him the reassurance that he was doing good. He could feel Natasha's presence with him there. As if she was silently saying how proud she was of him.

"We're going to be fine," he said to Poppy, placing a kiss on her head.

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Impulse: El Ojo (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: swearing, injury to reader, alcohol and drug abuse, threatening with guns, brief mentions of torture, description of injury and blood, unwanted touching, flirting, bad thought processes (addiction). PINK SHIRT

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Had a little change of plan last week, this is now the final chapter of this series. I am so sad to end it now, I’ve loved writing this so much. My first time writing for Narcos so thank you so much for all the support y’all I’ve given me with this. I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->

You were on a winning streak. Since you’d found the list of sicarios and matched that up with the more current information, you’d presented it to Carrillo and surprisingly he was on board. With his help, you had brought down five, admittedly low level but increasingly more valuable, sicarios. If you didn’t think about the torture and abuse each of them undertook once captured, used to break them into more telling more information, you could say you were doing a good job. Escobar’s organisation was shaking. You were coming for him.

You and Steve leant against a wall, soaking up the sunshine chatting amongst yourselves when you saw Javier arrive. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, having disappeared without a word early on in the morning. He parked his truck close by, walking over to you and Steve with his vest in hand. You grinned and jabbed Steve when you saw the shirt Javi was wearing.

The pink shirt had been a long-standing joke since you’d found it in his closet a few months ago. He had many colourful shirts, was known for them, but the pink one always seemed like another level. You and Steve teased him about it constantly, though you had to admit it did look good on him now. Javi scowled when he saw you and Steve’s mischievous grins, immediately realising his mistake.

“I know you get called the Whore of Bogata but you don’t need to dress like it! Jesus christ Javi!” You fanned yourself with your hand, grinning at him, “really I’m going to need a minute,” Javi flipped you off as you laughed hard.

“Shut up, I look great,” He grumbled.

“Just thinking about the poor flamingo you rinsed for that colour,” Steve joined in the teasing, shaking his head sadly.

“You are just jealous you could never pull this colour off,” Javi said smugly. You laughed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out today, could be quite distracting,” You said, pretending to be thoughtful. Javi’s frowned, only making you and Steve laugh more, “Aw don’t get pissy, Baby. We love you really” You teased him in a mocking voice, pouting at him. “You and your flamboyant choices,” You ruffled his hair up as you passed him. He tried to duck out the way but you caught him. He shoved you away, muttering expletives under his breath. You skipped a few paces out of his reach, flipped him off.

“L/n!” Somebody called your name across the street, one of the technicians you’d been talking to before Javier arrived. You left Steve and Javier to talk.

The technician explained the problem again, showing you the options for moving forward. It was quite common that things would go wrong before any kind of mission. Today was no different, the technicians had lost a signal and were now not sure that the address you had swarmed was correct.

You chewed your nails while you thought. You could risk getting the wrong house, letting the sicarios know you were on to them and you’d lose them again. You could come back another day, but risk losing them again. Or you could ransack some innocent person's house and have Carrillo on your ass for ruining his reputation in the one week he’d left you in charge.

If you messed this up it would mean your stronghold would be lost. There would be time for them to work out what was going on and move everything again.

At a loss, you excused yourself needing to take a break and a few minutes alone to think without soldiers trying to put in their two cents.

As your work life had become more stressful over the last months. You had found some relief in, ironically, coke. It wasn’t a habit you were trying to form, but you had learnt just what good taking just a little bit could do for you. It quietened down your worried brain and made you simultaneously more aware of everything. You were better when you were just a little bit high.

You had started keeping a small amount in your pocket. Hidden in a small sewing tin in your jacket pocket, you had started keeping a little coke on you especially for moments like this. You could take it, have a breather, and come back with a solution. It was fine. Nobody would know.

You’d spotted a cafe across the road, and hoped they had a restroom. You gave an excuse to the soldier you’d been talking to and walked across the street.

“Oi Rookie!” Javi called as he noticed you walk past on the opposite side of the street. “Where are you going?”

“Going to the bathroom. Women’s issues,” You called back, Javi and Steve grimaced. That was always the best excuse.

While you wouldn’t do it at the compound you didn’t have any reservation here. You’d been itching for a hit all morning and there was only so much more you could take. You walked into the cafe, asked for the direction of the restroom, and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Small, dark and stinking of pee, it was not the best place but hygiene wasn’t particularly an issue you were worried about.

You tipped a small amount from the box onto the sink counter, lined it up with a card from your pocket, bent down and took it up your nose. You grimaced, while it had burnt your nose somewhat it still stung. But it was worth it when the feeling began to kick in. You smiled at your reflection and double-checked your appearance in the mirror, wiping your nose. Nobody could ever tell.

As usual, the drug kicked your brain into gear again and everything fell into place. The raid went brilliantly, by pure coincidence you’d bagged two sicarios in one as your original target had invited your next round for dinner with his new girlfriend. Your plan well into the swing of things now, much to everyone’s surprise.

—

Like every weekend for the last three months, you were going out. The line between enemies and friends was long since blurred, hanging out with ‘Isabela’s’ friends was not an issue. Most of the time you weren’t even trying to get anything from them, you’d got what you needed months ago. As fun as Javier and Steve were, it was much more enjoyable to hang out with people your age. And they wouldn’t give you cocaine, María had it on tap.

You were dressed up, recently treating yourself to a new outfit as a job well done. A black off the shoulder top, covered in lace, and a little black mini skirt. You felt sexy, you were going to have a very good night.

“Rookie!” Javier called out to you as he came out of the apartment building. You were standing outside waiting for a taxi, smoking a cigarette.

“Javi, baby, you’re looking slick! Where are you going?” You checked him out. He wore his signature tight blue jeans and an equally tight black shirt that was almost bursting at the seams. He looked incredible, as he always did.

You were thankful that things had gone back to normal between you and Javier. The awkward stepping around each other had gone, you weren’t jealous. You acknowledged you would probably always like him a little more than was professional but that had fallen into a fun flirty banter that more than anything just wound Steve up.

You found yourself calling him Baby more than his name, it’d started as a joke to get back at him for always calling you Rookie but now it was so commonplace people had stopped picking you up on it if it slipped out while you were working.

It was fun. You cared for each other, that was clear to even a blind man, but there was no romanticism to the relationship anymore. There was no need. It wasn’t good for either of you. You’d found a comfortable rhythm and were going to stick to it.

“Out,” He shrugged, “That’s a new top,”

“You noticed?”

“Course, can’t keep my eyes off you,” He purred, happily playing along with your game.

“Thought you’d be more interested in the skirt,”

“Will you two quit it?” Steve’s voice interrupted your flirting as he walked down the stairs. You barked in laughter.

“Steve! So it’s a boys night I see? Where was my invite?”

“Figured you’d have your own plans,” Steve said.

“And you are correct Murphy but it’s always polite to ask,”

“Next time,” He assured you. “Where are you going tonight?”

“I don’t know. Some club, El Ojo or something?” You shrugged, “Seeing as this is maybe Isabela’s last time out I am going to go out with a bang, literally,” You raised an eyebrow, insinuation of your worlds made Steve roll his eyes.

You were hoping within the next few weeks to be able to close in on some higher level sicarios and associates to Escobar. Drawing the noose in slowly so he wouldn’t notice until it’d choked him. That meant your position as Isabela was going to have to come to an end to keep you safe from your own program. You’d discussed it at length with Peña and Murphy, while you didn’t agree you had to listen to them. They were still your superiors after all, no matter how close friends you were.

“If you told past you you were going to willingly sleep with a Narco I think you would have passed out,” Steve laughed.

“I’m a changed woman Murphy, what can I say,” You smirked, “Imagine what I’ll be like by the end of the year,”

“God help us,” Javier shook his head, a smirk plastered on his face. You laughed and stubbed out your cigarette with your shoe as your taxi pulled around the corner.

“Here’s my ride. Have a good night, boys. I will be back in the morning,”

—

El Ojo was just as María had told you. Modern and smoke-filled, people were filling every inch of the space. You walked in and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. This was exactly what you needed. Crowds were anonymous, nobody cared who you were or what you were doing. Everyone was just there for one reason, to have a good time.

You ordered a drink at the bar, flirting with the man next to you briefly before taking the drink and finding your friends. As usual, they were up in the VIP area, courtesy of the Parreño name. You walked up and were let inside the cordoned-off area to find Diego stood up on his seat, wild-eyed, shouting about something. It wasn’t until you got closer that you heard what he was saying.

“I’m telling you Isabela is lying!” He shouted above the music.

“What’s going on?” You asked. None of the ten people surrounding the booth noticed your approach, their eyes shifting awkwardly when they saw you.

“You! You’re a liar!” Diego pointed down at you, hatred burning behind his eyes.

“What is going on?” You asked again. You looked around for María, she was usually the one to step between you and Diego, but she was nowhere to be seen. This was not the kind of conversation you’d wanted for this evening.

“You were the only one to survive that raid at Carlos’,” He continued, jumping off the couch to your level, “That fucking maniac Carrillo killed everyone but you! You’re working with them, aren’t you?”

“You’ve lost it,” You rolled your eyes, “Completely lost it,”

“You don’t deny it!” He yelled. You gulped, trying not to look scared of the man but the rage in his eyes was shaking you. You stepped backwards as he advanced toward you

“You’re insane!” You laughed in his face, “I’m not a fucking spy, especially not for Carrillo,”

“Bullshit,” He spat, Suddenly he pulled a gun from his back, waving it in your face. People shouted and screamed around you, scattering as the metal glinted in the light. Your eyes remained on his, not saying a word as he pressed the barrel into your neck. You didn’t move, barely breathing, “You’re a fucking rat,” He growled.

“Diego!” Finally, María stepped in, running over when she heard the commotion. “Stop it, put it away. Idiot,” She pulled the gun from his hand, standing firmly between you and him. “Ignore him. He’s paranoid. Someone’s leaking information and he thinks it's you because he’s a jealous asshole,” Maria explained, swiftly pushing him backwards until he sat back in the booth again, “How fucking ridiculous would that be? You? A spy!”

“Insane,” You agreed through a clenched jaw. Diego continued to glare at you dangerously, leaning over to whisper something to a friend.

“I swear if we get banned from this club because of you Diego I am leaving you,” María said angrily, “Come on, I want to party,” She linked her arm through you, not caring that you were still in shock from having a gun held to you, and dragged you to the bar.

Fortunately, copious amounts of vodka and tequila were great for calming your nerves. In a few hours, you had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. You couldn’t think about anything more than the music ringing in your ears and how good it felt dancing on the stranger behind you.

After a while, María pulled you back up to the booth where Diego and his friends were still sitting. You did your best to ignore him, chatting to one of the girls at the table instead. You laughed and did a few lines, generally relaxing into the evening. So relaxed you didn’t notice the newest member of the group until he finally addressed you.

“Don’t I know you?” You looked over and panic spread over you like a bucket of ice water over your head sobering you almost instantly. He did know you. The man before you was the first man you had arrested, almost six months ago. He must have been bailed out for jail.

“No,” You answered confidently. You didn’t lie. You didn’t know him, not really.

“Gabriel, sit down!” María cheered, “Isabela this is my cousin, Gabriel. Gabriel, Isabela,” She introduced you. Her cousin. Of course. You smiled politely, praying the dim lights would hide the nervous sweat that had overtaken you.

Gabriel looked confused but didn’t say anything if he did recognise you. Not that that would matter anyway, as soon as he spoke to Diego his memory would no doubt be jogged. If he found out you were a DEA agent you would be dead. You had to leave.

“Here take my seat, I’ve got to get some air for a minute,” You stood up, letting him take your place next to Maria. You caught Diego’s suspicious look as you walked past, spotting the nearest exit door.

Your hands were shaking, your body not sure what to do with itself. The cocaine and alcohol said to go back inside and take them all out. What was left of your rational brain was consumed by fear and kept you outside. It was bad enough if someone like Senator Parreño had suspicions about you but Diego? Gabriel? Diego had already shown he wasn’t afraid to threaten you in public. Of the two of them joined heads they would connect the dots and your cover would be blown wide open. So would you, you thought morbidly. Coke and anger never mixed well.

You took breathes of the warm summer air, leaning against the wall of the club as you tried to calm yourself down. You shouldn’t have taken the last shot, now verging over the edge of blacking out; your vision was spotty, sound not registering properly and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.

You wondered if Steve and Javi were nearby, the fresh air having the opposite effect than you’d wanted. You would blackout and you were going to need help to get home if you did. But you didn’t recall either of the men telling you where they were going, they could be anywhere in the city.

Stumped for the moment, you decided to wait it out, lighting a cigarette hoping that might help sober you up. You pulled the packet from your purse

“Need a light?” A man appeared next to you, lighter in hand. You nodded and he flicked the flame up, you bent over and lit your cigarette between your teeth.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, turning away from him, hoping he would leave. He didn’t. Instead, the man continued to stare at you, following you into your personal space as you shuffled away from him.

“Can I help you?” You snapped, immediately getting a bad feeling about him. You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning at him.

“No need for that tone baby. Come on, I wanna talk to you,” He purred. His eyes dipped to your cleavage, a lustful look in his eyes.

“I’m not interested,” You said, stepping backwards away from the man. He seemingly didn’t hear you, continuing to get into your personal space, arms reaching out to grab your hips.

“You were interested earlier. Come on, baby,” He purred, pulling you close to him, pressing his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, pushing him off hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

“Fucking bitch,” He growled.

If you were sober the situation would have a very swift end. You would punch him square in the face and he would leave you alone, scuttling away with a broken jaw and a shattered ego. However, you were not in a state to do that now. He had the upper hand. All you could do was run, hoping once you were back amongst people he wouldn’t attack you. You looked up the alley, the open street was just a few feet away.

You bolted.

Unfortunately just as you didn’t have enough coordination to punch the man, you didn’t have enough to run in heels on the uneven floor. Not even ten foot away your legs wobble, heels falling into a pothole sending you forward. You fell into a dumpster, head hitting the corner of the metal with a thud. You yelped, vision going black for a moment as you lay on the concrete.

“Hey hey hey,” A man ran over, instantly scaring the man off of you. He knelt by your side and helped you up from where you’d fallen. You groaned and pushed yourself up, head throbbing harshly, warm liquid trickling down your face. Your world was spinning even with your eyes closed. “Y/n, Fuck are you okay?”

“Get off me!” You exclaimed, trying to push the stranger off, not that your shaking arms were very effective.

“Y/n hey it’s me, you’re okay!” You looked up and saw Steve through a haze of blurred vision. You squinted as something dripped over your eye. Steve then saw the cut to your head, “Oh shit,” Your eyes are glassy and blown out, you mumbled something to him and pushed yourself out of his reach again, wobbling and tipping backwards. He caught you before you hit the floor again. “Y/n what are you doing out here? Weren’t you with your friends?”

“Her brother was the first guy,” You said, your speech slurred so much Steve barely understood what you were saying.

“Rookie, you’re not making sense. What are you on about?”

“I’m so fucked,” You sighed, letting your head rollback. You giggled as the world spun.

“Yeah, I can tell, come on let’s get you home,” Steve stood up, holding his hands out to you and pulled you up to standing again.

“Where’s Peña?” You asked.

“At the bar,”

“I want to go talk to him, let’s go talk to him!” You exclaimed. You began to walk in the opposite direction, dragging Steve along by the arm. He pulled you back with ease.

“You can talk to him in the morning, we’re going home,” He insisted.

“But I have to tell him about the brother he’s going -,” Your rambling was interrupted as you threw up, barely missing Steve’s leg. He grimaced and jumped out of the way, “I have to talk to him,” You said quietly once you were done.

“Tomorrow, Kid,” He repeated himself.

You pouted, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes but you didn’t fight him. Despite how drunk you were you knew that going home would realistically be the best course of action right now. You could barely string a sentence together let alone get anything important out coherently.

Steve got you into a taxi, luckily the driver paid no attention to the blood dripping down your face. You were falling asleep on his shoulder as you pulled up to the apartment, Steve pulled you out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Only when he opened the door, he was met by Javier and Vanessa also on their way inside.

“Woah!” Javier instantly turned his full attention to you when he saw the state you were in, hanging onto Steve’s sleeve, “What happened?”

“Some guy tried to touch her up, she hit her head, I’ve got it covered,” Steve explained.

“Hey Baby,” You grinned, obviously giving Javi a once over.

“She doesn’t look alright,” Vanessa commented, “Did she just call you baby?”

“It’s a long story,” Javi dismissed the comment. “She doesn’t look okay,”

“I’ve got it covered. I’ll get her to throw up and get some water to sober her up,” Steve said, “We’ll be okay, won’t we Rook?”

“Fine and dandy!” You grinned.

“If you’re sure,” Javi said hesitantly. You were gone, hanging onto Steve’s arm to hold yourself up. Your eyes were blown out and blank, if you remembered anything in the morning it would be a miracle. His first reaction was to help you, not sure Steve could handle you alone. Steve wasn’t exactly sober himself, sinking a good few beers with Javier in the bar before he’d left. However, his decision was made for him as you and Steve began walking up the stairs, Vanessa’s hands were back on him and any worry was squashed as she dragged him into his apartment.

Upstairs, Steve took you into his apartment. He took you to the bathroom, sat you on top of the toilet and rooted around the medicine cabinet to find some cleaning supplies so he could patch up your bleeding head.

“Connie’s probably got something in here,” He rooted through the cabinet. Connie had gone back to Miami for the week to see her family, inconveniently right when her skills were needed. Steve’s tipsy attempt at first aid would have to do,“Ah-ha! Here we go, clean that cut out with this,”

“Ow!” You whined, flinching away from him quickly when he showed you the antiseptic bottle.

“I didn’t touch you,” Steve chuckled, “Hold still,” Carefully he poured the liquid over a cotton ball, took hold of your face in the other hand and dabbed the cotton on your cut.

“Ow! Steve that fucking hurt,” You complained, flinching away from him as the alcohol stung the wound on your head. You frowned at him, tearing up a little.

“Don’t be a baby,”

“I am a baby!” You exclaimed. Steve grabbed hold of you again, he needed to clean the wound if it was going to heal properly. You whined and hissed at him but eventually, it was clear.

“Look, all done, got the grit out,”

“Thanks, Steve,” You kissed his cheek quickly.

“You’re welcome,” He laughed awkwardly. “Come on, you can’t sleep on my toilet. Bedtime,”

“You’re not my type,” You scrunched your nose and leant away from him.

“Ouch way to break my heart Rook,” Steve chuckled, “No, you’re going to your own bed, by yourself,”

“It's so far away!” You whined.

“It's across the hall!” He copied your tone making you laugh.

Steve pulled you up from the toilet and managed to wrangle you across the hall. Half asleep, leaning into Steve before you even got inside the apartment, you fell into bed without protest. Steve pulled off your shoes, throwing them on the ground before stumbling back to his apartment to collapse in his bed.

—

Waking up in your apartment unsure of how you got there, was a strange feeling. What was even stranger was the harsh throbbing on your head. You blindly brought a hand to the sight, recoiling instantly as you touched something sore. You sat up, slowly opening your eyes to the daylight and looked at your reflection in the mirror opposite your bed.

You groaned when you saw the gash on your forehead. Dried blood sat in the creases of your neck, and underside of your jaw as well as being crusted into your hair. You tried to remember how you’d gotten the injury but came up blank. You couldn’t remember anything from the night before. Not unusual for your almost nihilistic habits, but it was concerning given the infliction.

You looked at the clock. 9 am. You’d slept in. Since you were up you decided to clean yourself up. You padded to your bathroom, wincing at the harsh light inside and the grinding sound of the extractor fan. You filled the sink with warm water and gently cleaned the blood from your face with a cloth, only once stopping to throw up into the toilet.

You showered, hot steam help clear your brain fog but not helping the cut on your forehead which now stung immensely. But that wasn’t the feeling you were concentrating on.

A new kind of hunger, one you weren’t yet familiar with had settled in on the back of your tongue. A repeating idea chanting over and over in your head. It had partly been cocaine’s fault you’d got into this mess, but it would get you out of this hangover now.

You remembered you had some in your jacket pocket from the day before, leftover. Once you’d thought about it there was no stopping you. You didn’t have to take it all, you could stop yourself if you wanted. You pulled the tin out from your coat, sit it down on your dressing table while you pulled on some clothes.

You sat back at the dressing-table again once you were done and stared at the box. You’d not done it here more than once or twice. Never by yourself. Something about being at home with it made you feel guilty, possibly because you were surrounded by your friends who also happened to be DEA agents who would kill you if they found the stuff in the building.

You picked up the box, contemplating it. You could get something done if you took it. Wouldn’t have to sit in your hungover state and wallow in self-pity until the headache left. You could go for a walk. Do nice things. Taking the cocaine would bring you nice things, as it always did.

You opened it.

“Morning,” Javier’s voice inside your apartment suddenly startled you, causing you to spill the contents of your box all over your dressing table.

“Fuck,” You swore out loud.

“Okay in there?” You regretted giving him a key. You did not need the interruption. His voice snapped you back to reality. You decided you didn’t have time, or rather not wanting to be caught red-handed, you decided to leave it and greet your surprise guest.

“Good morning,” You said brightly, opening and closing your bedroom door tightly behind you. Javier was standing in the middle of your living room, a book in hand flicking through it. He discarded it back to the coffee table where he’d found it when you appeared.

“Just wanted to check you were alright, you looked rough last night,” Javi said, “that cut looks sore,”

“It stings but it’ll be ok in a few days,” You shrugged. Javi looked at you strangely, “Did you come up here for something?” You asked.

“You don’t remember what today is?” He asked. You frowned and thought for a moment.

“It’s your birthday?” You asked slowly.

“No,”

“It’s my birthday?”

“I don’t know when you’re birthday is,”

“Javi I’ve obviously forgotten please just tell me,” You pleaded.

“Searchblok, you and Steve swapped. Remember?”

“Shit!” You exclaimed. How could you have forgotten?! You scrambled back into your room to get changed, boxer shorts and a hole-ridden t-shirt wouldn’t cut it.

“I should write you up for the mess you were in last night,” He called through the door as you rushed to get dressed, pulling on the nearest jeans on your floor. That’s not the only thing you should write me up for, you thought looking at the cocaine on your dressing table.

“I should write you up for sleeping with hookers,” You said back.

“Nowhere in my contract does it say I can’t! You however have a reckless behaviour clause,” He said. Your heart stopped at that, opening the door quickly to pop your head out.

“Javi-“

“I’m joking Rook, don’t worry!” Javier laughed. You rolled your eyes and shut the door again, pulling on a fresh shirt. A few seconds later you stepped out, buttoning the last of the clasps on your shirt. “I was worried about you but you’re fine so we’ll forget it ever happened,”

“Thanks, Baby,” You grinned at him. Javi rolled his eyes.

“You need to stop that though,”

“You love it,” You teased him. He didn’t reply, turning on his heel and walking out. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at your bedroom door. The coke was still lined up in there, calling to you. It would only take a few seconds to do it and get rid of your hangover for a few hours.

“Rookie, hurry up!” Javi called you from the hallway, audibly impatient. You decided against it, grabbing your keys and a jacket and running to catch up with him. He was already waiting by the truck by the time you got downstairs. “Did anything interesting happen last night, then?” Javi asked. You tried to think for a moment, you remembered something important had happened, something you’d wanted to tell him last night but you couldn’t remember what. You shrugged.

“Apart from getting this,” You gestured to the injury to your forehead, “I can’t remember. There was something but I don’t know,”

“Can’t have been very important then,” Javi added. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Guess not,”

Next Chapter -->

Finally we’ve come full circle, I am so sad it’s over I have absolutely loved writing this series. Again I want to say a massive thank you to everyone’s that read the series, it means more than you could imagine. I love you all. I’m going to have a cry and make a start on all the other things I’ve been neglecting to write this.

The ending is already written and posted so if you haven’t read it go enjoy :))

tag list: @beskar-falcon @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @wille-zarr @danniburgh @rentheisopod @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855 @mayangel19 @1950schick @pedrosmustache @wantingtobekorra @balmasedas @angelsunflxwer @brujademente @kingsmanandqueens @igotissueswithfictionalmen

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ohgodanothertwilightblog · 3 years

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Obsession Embry Call chapter 10

I woke up to the sound of my phone going off the next morning. I roll over and unplug it before I pick it up. “Hello?” I didn’t bother to see who was calling me so early. “Good morning sleeping beauty. Sorry for waking you up.” Embry didn’t sound so apologetic but hearing his voice perked me up anyway. “Its all good. How was your night?” I hope he had a good night, he deserves it. “I had a pretty good patrol with Quil. How was your night, beautiful?” I blush at his complement. “I had a good night, slept pretty good. You haven’t gotten any sleep have you?” I start to feel bad realizing he has been working all night. “I got off when the sun came up. I went to sleep for a few hours before I called you. It is nine so I will probably take a nap before I pick you up.” I feel better knowing he got to have some sleep. “So what time are you picking me up today then?” I couldn’t be more excited to see him again even though it has only been a few hours since I saw him. “ I was going to pick you up around one if that was okay with you. I figured we could go grab lunch and hang out a little before we went over to Sam’s house.” I smile at the thought of seeing him alone before we saw everyone else. “That sounds great to me. I am looking forward to seeing you. “ I want to say I miss him but I don’t want to sound too needy. “ I miss you. I am looking forward to seeing you too.” Apparently he was feeling what I am. “Well have a good nap and I will see you in a few hours Em.” I don’t want to hang up but I need to start getting ready and he needs to get some sleep. “Hmm, Em, I like it when you call me that. Have a good day, beautiful, I will see you in a few hours.” I smile and blush again at his compliment. “Goodbye Em.” “Goodbye beautiful”

I get out of bed and go down stairs to eat breakfast with my family. My dad had chocolate chip pancakes and bacon waiting for me at my spot. “Good morning. Breakfast looks great, thank you so much.” I sit down and start to dig in. “I know they are your favourite so I thought I would start your day on the right foot. My dad smiled at me and then leaned over to kiss my mom. They seemed to be getting along better these days. I know everything was tense after Cade passed away so it is nice to see things start to seem a little normal again. “So what time is Embry picking you up today?” My mom asked between bites of her own pancakes.”He is picking me up at one so we can go to lunch before we meet up with his friends.” Just thinking about spending the day with him brought a smile to my face again. “Well I hope you have a good time with him. I just really am happy to see you smile again.” My dad says while giving me a hug then going back to his pancakes. Once we finished I helped clean up and do the dishes. I finished around 10 so I headed up stairs to give myself a manicure and pedicure. I have yet to figure out what I am going to wear today but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have all my bases covered. But then I remembered where we live and that the chances of it being sunny outside again were slim thus rendering my pedicure unlikely to be seen but at least I feel good.

After getting my nails done I head over to my closet to try to decide what I want to wear today. After destroying my organizational system I decided on black ripped skinny jeans, a white floral print top and my black high top converse. I went down stairs to ask my mom if she would mind french braiding my hair for me. “Of course I will. It has been so long since you asked me to do that for you. Go grab your things and let's get started.” I rush back upstairs to grab my brush and hair tie. When I get back downstairs my mom is waiting for me on the couch and I sit next to her with my back facing her. I relax as she starts to brush my hair. It was such a simple act, for her to do my hair. But I could tell it meant a lot to her. I hadn’t realized how long it has been since she has done this for me. It was nice to just spend some time with her again. I will have to make sure it is a priority moving forward.

Once my hair was all done and I got dressed I decided to do my makeup. I did a little bit of concealer, blush, highlighter, eyeliner, and mascara. After about an hour of trying to do my wings on my eyeliner in a way that they look somewhat similar I got them to work well enough. I check the clock and it is almost time for him to come. I spray on a little bit of perfume and put on my necklace and grab my purse and double check that I have my keys and my phone. I pull out the first book I find on my bookshelf and start reading to pass the time a little. The next thing I know I hear someone knocking on the front door so I slam my book shut and toss it on my bed, shut off the lights and rush downstairs. “He isn’t going to leave without you, you don’t need to rush and break your neck” my dad shouts from the living room. My mom was at the door with Embry in the entryway with a big smile on his face with a bouquet of flowers.

“I will put them in a vase and put them by your bed. You two go enjoy your evening. It was so nice to see you Embry dear.” My mom said while pulling Embry into a hug. I smiled at him while he hugged her back. “Bye mom and dad I will see you later.” I call as I walk out the door. Embry stops and looks at me for a moment. “You really do look absolutely beautiful.” he says before he leans down and kisses me gently and I recall all the kisses from yesterday. He walks me to the car and opens my door for me and races over to the other side. He slides his hand into mine and we drive to the little diner everyone goes to. As usual he opens my door for me and his hand finds mine once again. We get seated at a booth and he sits right next to me. I can feel his thigh pressed against mine and all I can focus on is how incredibly warm he is. I can feel the warmth from him spreading throughout my body.

We order our meals which means a burger and fries for Embry and a club sandwich for myself. We decided to be cheesy and share a strawberry milkshake. I liked how easy it felt to be around him. He just makes me feel safe. We ate our lunch while talking about anything and everything. Once we finished our meal and paid we had a little bit more time to kill before we needed to meet up with the pack. We decided to go for a drive. He placed his hand on my leg and looked over at me and smiled. I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. He turns up the music a little bit and I just zone out and enjoy the peace.The next thing I know Embry is chuckling and shaking me awake. ”I am so sorry. I guess I got so comfortable I must have dozed off. I really am sorry.” He just smiles at me and shakes his head. “It's fine, I don’t mind. I am sure you needed the rest. Plus it was funny to hear you talk in your sleep.” He gets out of the car and opens my door for me. I realize we arrived at Sam and Emily’s house. I would have to ask him later what I said in my sleep. I hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing. We arrive at the door and are greeted by everyone. Sam smiled warmly at me and Emily gave me a nice big hug. Quil, Jared, and Seth each gave me a nice big hug. Leah smiled at me and Paul nodded at me. Jake gave me the biggest hug out of them all which resulted in him picking me up leaving my legs dangling and my ribs probably a bit bruised. Everyone laughed when he put me down and I rubbed my sore ribs. Once steadily on my feet I found my natural place at Embry’s side.

He put his arm around me and pulled me in. He whispers in my ear. “ You really do look beautiful. I am glad you came with me tonight.” His breath tickles my ear and makes me shiver. The boys whistle and laugh “He is probably saying something about the hot making out they did last night. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it while we were on patrol last night.” Jared said which humiliated me to no end. I bury my face in Embry’s shirt to hide my blushing. I forgot they told me about the wolf mind reading. I don’t like the thought of them seeing me do something so intimate with him. “It is about time he got some action. He has been thinking about her for a while. It was all he could think about and I am sure he will keep thinking about it more.” Quil decides to throw in his two cents on the subject. I grew even hotter than I thought was possible. “Hey knock it off! Stop embarrassing her. You can clearly see she is uncomfortable so lay off.” A deep stern voice rumbled out of Embry’s chest. I had never heard him sound so firm. I am glad he said something to stop them. It was getting to be too much. They take their turns giving their apologies. “It is okay I forgive you. Just please don’t do it again.” They each give me a hug. “ I will make sure they don’t give you a hard time again.” Jake says with a fake stern look at them then throws his arm around me. “Okay guys let's eat. Ladies first. Once the boys dig in there is no guarantee there will be food left.” Embry says as she leads the way to the kitchen.

I place a nice serving of lasagna and salad on my plate with a piece of garlic bread. It looked so amazing. And I eyed a beautiful looking chocolate cake that I am sure will be for dessert tonight. We all find a place to sit either on the floor or the couch or the dining room table. I am sitting on the floor in front of Embry while he is on the couch. I lean up against his legs just to be close to him. After dinner we decide to start by playing Uno. I am seated on Embry’s lap while we try to hide our cards from each other. And when he told me how competitive the boys are I didn’t expect what I saw today. Paul was laughing evilly at everyone else as he kept throwing down his plus twos and fours. Jake was pouting and Quil and Jared were bickering. Sam was focused on Emily with a big smile on his face. He kept placing kisses on her cheek while she kept dishing back what Paul was doing to everyone else. I was more focused on the feeling of Embry rubbing small circles on my thigh just above my knee. But in the end Emily won which left Paul sulking dramatically.

After Uno we decided to take a break and eat some of the cake. Well I guess we ended up eating all of the cake. I sat on Embry’s lap and we shared a piece of cake. We took turns feeding each other which earned us a lot of eye rolls and groans from the guys and Leah. “Don’t let them stop you or embarrass you. I think you guys are cute.” Emily said with a warm smile. She was snuggled up next to Sam and he looked so content as he always does around her. I smiled back at her and gave Embry a kiss. After we all finished the cake it was time to play Jenga. Which is a disaster waiting to happen considering how clumsy I am. Add being nervous to the mix and we are bound for failure. But once again the guys got very competitive to the point of them focusing so hard on messing each other up it left me to be able to focus on myself.

It was Seth's turn and Quil ended up yelling in his ear, leading Seth to fall on the blocks thus losing and probably injuring himself in the process. Everyone else laughs while Leah goes to check on him. Upon discovering that he is indeed okay she shoves Quil off the arm of the cough where he was perched laughing his ass off. He landed with a big thump on the floor. Once we restacked the blocks it was my turn to go and I very carefully removed a block successfully which earned me a kiss from Embry. I smiled at him as he went and grabbed a block with much more ease and less concentration than I did. I wish I could be that calm about anything but that just isn’t me. Of course he was successful at not knocking over the blocks.

It was Leah’s turn next and she had her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully grabbed her chosen block. Then it was Sam's turn and Emily giggled as she playfully pushed him causing his very large hand to knock over the block tower. We all laughed as he sighed playfully and leaned over to kiss Emily and start tickling her. She laughed and flailed as he continued to tickle her. Finally things settle and we rebuild the tower once again. Jake goes first and very carefully pulls his block out. Jared then goes and is successful. It gets to Paul and he narrowly avoids knocking the tower over. Emily goes and takes her block so gracefully. I go to take my block but I am so shaky I knock it over. While everyone laughs Embry smiles and kisses me and whispers in my ear. “It's okay, nice try love.” He pulls back and places a kiss at my hairline. We decide to switch to playing LIfe which is a personal favourite of mine.

I have never played games with this number of people so I wasn’t used to it taking so long but time flew by. The next thing I know it is midnight and Seth is screaming because he won and Emily and Sam are curled up on the couch giving each other love eyes. I am sitting on the floor between Embry’s legs with my back leaning against his chest. I can feel his breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. Quil, Jared, Paul, and Jake are bickering because Seth won. It was then decided that we would get ready to leave. I help clean up so we don’t leave them with a mess. Embry takes my hand as we walk to the car. “How would you feel about a stop at the beach before I take you home? Just so we can spend a little time alone before I drop you off.” I smile and nod. I like the idea of ending my night with some alone time with Embry before I had to go home. He drove us to the beach with his hand on my thigh as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the music playing in the background. Once we arrive I take off my shoes and enjoy the feeling of sand between my toes and Embry’s hand on the small of my back.

We find a little spot and take a seat. “Did you have a good night?” He asks nervously. I smile at him. “Your friends really are amazing. I feel like I finally have a brother again. I like being around the craziness. It can be a tad bit overwhelming but my house is so quiet. It is nice to laugh and play around. It really does feel like a family.” He looked relieved at my answer. I lean in and kiss him. It feels like it has been forever since we kissed. He puts his hand in my hair and gently pulls at my roots. I try to get as close to him as possible. I end up sitting on his lap again and his other hand is in the back pocket of my skinny jeans. My hands trail down his chest. He unattached his lips from mine and started kissing down my neck. I gasp at the feeling and move to give him easier access. After a little bit I manage to pull myself off of him and sit back down in the sand next to him. The whole lets take things slow has gone so far out the window. I am trying to fight the internalized misogyny I am feeling about this. I feel like I shouldn’t be moving this fast with him because it makes me look bad. But I don’t want to judge others for how fast they move. Also we are designed to be together so I don’t think there is any concern of him leaving me. I guess I should just do what I want and not stress myself out so much on the timeline.

“I am sorry if I am sending mixed signals. I know I said I wanted to take it slow and I clearly haven't been taking it very slow.” He just smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. “You don’t need to apologize. I am in no rush at all. But I very much enjoy what we have been doing. I am good with whatever you want to do or whatever pace you are comfortable moving at. Just do whatever you want and I will be here.” And with that we decided to head home because it is so late. Once we get to my house he opens my door for me and walks me to the front door. I give him a big hug and just let him hold me for a minute. I look up at him and kiss him gently. He pulls back after a minute and kisses my forehead. “ I will call you tomorrow, maybe we can hang out again if you would like that.” I nod aggressively. “Of course I want to hang out with you!” I kiss him again. “Have a good night beautiful.” “Goodnight Em.” and then I head to bed with my head full of all the kissing we did tonight and hoping for more tomorrow.

#embry call #embry call x oc #embry call x reader #twilight #twilight revival #twilight saga #twilight shitpost #the twilight series #writing #fandom #fanfic #embry call smut

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

what about reader having a allergic attack and sin reacting to that. I remember when I had one and my boyfriend couldn't find the vaccine that I needed and he started panicking and try to carry me to the hospital and I was trying to laugh but I was dying Hahahana a whole mood. I imagine how it would be with din.

Oh my stars, that sounds good hilarious and scary! I'm glad you're okay! I can't help but feel like Din would be very similar...

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner was going to be good. Delicious even. It was the first multicourse, warm, sit down meal you'd had in months.

You'd spent all day in the kitchen, working to prepare all of your and Din's favorites, with the small green bean under foot as he attempted to help.

It was a far cry, so different from your reality a few short months ago. Now you had a home, a stable home on the ground, one you could come back to every day and not have to worry about leaving, one with a garden, one with neighbors - normalcy. Now, you had an official husband, and your small son was safe and not at risk all the time. It was strange not to have worry and be on your toes all the time, but a life you were slowly being accustomed to.

"Cyare?" Din's voice was soft as he came into the kitchen, his armor still on, but helmet stripped off, "it smells delicious. I'm so hungry I could eat a bantha."

"Well, luckily, you don't have to worry about that," you turned to him, grinning at the sight of his bare face before reaching up and running a hand through his dark curls, "no bantha in sight. Just what the little one and I whipped up today and dessert from the neighbors."

"Apparently I had some excellent timing," he kissed you quickly, catching you off guard for a moment before you responded in kind. His aquiline nose bumped against yours before he laughed and bent down to scoop up the Child, "have you been good for your buir today?"

The little looked at him happily, cooing and chirping excitedly at the two of you before you nodded. He reached his small petal hands to Din's face as he leaned up to hug him. Din's smile was brighter than the twin suns of Tatooine as he bent his head to touch his forehead against his in a soft keldabe kiss.

"Go on and take him and shower and change," you gently nudged him with your hips in the direction of the upstairs, "dinner will be ready by the two you come back."

"Are you sure..."

"Yes," you promised softly, "go on, my love. I've got this all handled."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner was a quiet affair as you sat across from Din, his legs resting against yours, and the little one at the head of the table. It felt so normal, so natural, like it was always meant to be. You'd been playing at this for some time, playing at being a normal family, but now that it was here, your daily reality, you never wanted anything else.

"You're thinking awfully loudly," Din said softly as you gave him a sheepish look with a smol shrug of your shoulders, "come on, what's going on up there?"

"Nothing that should warrant any worry," you promised, setting down your fork and leaning back in your chair, "I am happy. Very happy....I just...sometimes it doesn't feel real. Like any second it could go away, I know its silly to worry about, but I just want this forever."

"Me too," he agreed as the little cooed softly, "nothing will ever happen - nothing bad. We're safe now. Safe and sound."

"I know," you agreed, a small contented sigh escaping your lips, "I love you, you know."

"I know," he laughed lightly, "I kind of got that feeling a long time ago but you know, I love you too."

"Good," you grinned as you stood up and gathered some of the now empty dishes. He offered to help but you shook your head, promising that you could handle something so simple. Besides, you'd leave the dishes for tomorrow, that way you could recruit your boys to help with washing and putting them away, "dessert?"

"Of course," he insisted as the Child cooed excitedly. You brought over the big, delicious smelling pie that your neighbor had set and it in the cent of the table. Passing a fork to Din, you picked up the green bean and sat down on the table to where he could easily eat some of the pie, "what kind is it? It looks amazing."

"I dunno," you admitted, "there was so much going on when Mrs. Tenche brought it over I didn't think to ask. But she did say it was a family recipe. So, I guess we just dig in."

"I can't argue with that," Din grinned as the two of you sliced into the pie and the little one grabbed a handful. It was silent for a few moments as the three of you took bites and tried to decide how you felt about the pie.

It was delicious - filled with a sweet, soft filling that contained some mild spices and a flakey, buttery crust. You could have easily eaten the whole thing by yourself in one setting.

"Good," Din mumbled between mouthfuls as you nodded. Even the little one seemed to enjoy, as he went back for another handful, making little sounds of excitement, "we should get this recipe. What do you think it is?"

"I don't know," you pondered as you coughed lightly, some of the crust crumbs getting caught in your throat, "some sort of fruit...and spices."

"I think maybe jogan fruit," he mused as you nodded. You set down your fork as you reached for your water, trying to clear your throat, "maybe some of the spices from the local market."

"Mhmm," you coughed, your throat starting to feel tighter and tighter with each passing second, "umm...spices."

"Cyare?" Din's eyes grew up as he set down his fork and studied you. He could immediately tell something was up, "what's wrong?"

"Umm," you could barely get down any water as you started to gasp for air, "spices. Allergic..."

"Kriff," he almost shouted as he jumped up and ran over to you, "I completely forgot. Do you know which ones? Your medicine...where is it?"

"I don't remember which ones," your hand was on your throat as you tried to slow and even the little breathing you managed, "its in the bedroom...somewhere."

"Stars," he anxiously ran to the stars but came back to you and then back to the stars, clearly in a state of panic, "s-stay here. I'll be right back."

"Okay..." you managed to squeak out as the little one slowly came over to you and plopped down in front of you. His inky eyes were wide with concern as he held out his hands towards you.

You could hear loud banging and slamming from upstairs as Din frantically ran around, trying to find your medicine. If you hadn't been trying not to panic, you might have laughed at him.

The little one made a sound to get your attention as you reached over to pick him up. As soon as you did, he put his little petal hands on your cheeks, studying you intently as he seemed to focus all of his energy onto you.

Slowly, as if by magic, which you realized it was something of the sort, he used his strange healing powers on you as your throat started to become less and less constricted.

Your airway started to feel normal again as your breathing slowly evened out and the rapid beating of your heart become less erratic.

"You..." you looked at your small son that was watching intently with his big eyes as he smiled. Picking him up, you held him tightly to your chest, holding him as close as possible, "thank you...thank you so much. You are my little lifesaver."

He made a noise akin to happiness before breathing in deeply and yawning. Although getting better at managing his power, he still easily tired after exerting such copious amounts of energy.

Din came bounding down the stairs, calling your name, and almost tripping over his down feet as he hopped off the landing, "I couldn't find it! But here, I'm going to take to the Healer and-"

"Din-"

"And we'll get you sorted out," he didn't even listen, so consumed with worry as he attemled to scoop you up in his arms, "it won't get long to get there-"

"Din..."

"Speeder bike is fast and-"

"Din!" the sudden almost bark of his name caused him to snap out of his stupor as he looked at you holding the little one, the color back in your face as you sat there calmly.

"Wait...what happened?" he asked as his hands went to your face as he studied you to make sure he wasn't making this up in his mind.

"I'm okay," you reassured him with a soft nod, "he helped."

As if on cue, he started to snore lightly as he had drifted off to sleep in your arms. Din made a sound somewhere between confusion and thankfulness as he dropped to his knees before you, one hand tightly clutching onto yours, "thank the maker. I don't know what..."

"I know, my love," you leaned down and pressed a soft to kiss to the crown of his head, "luckily we don't have to worry about that. Good thing we've got just a caring, helpful son."

"What if-"

"Shhh," you took your hand out of his and pressed a finger to his lips, "its okay. No need to worry about things that didn't happen. But I am glad to know, you'd drop everything to help me."

"You know I will," he promised, "always."

"As I would for either of you."

"I do have a few small requests..."

"Shoot."

"We'll find your medicine and keep it somewhere downstairs," he insisted as you nodded, "just in case this ever happens again...and second, I'm taste testing foods from now. Just the mystery ones."

"Deal," you grinned at him, "I'll have to get the recipe so we can figure out what the spices are and recreate it without whichever one that caused the reaction."

"Perfect," he stood up and reached for the child, "as good as the dessert was, I don't think its worth dying for."

"Jury's out on that one..."

"Either way, I'll go put him in bed and then come back for you. I'll find you some dessert that won't cause this," he took him gently from you, "be right back."

"Be right here," you promised, "thank you, my love."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he insisted, "just keep out of trouble for a few minutes."

"No promises on that..."

"Cyare..."

"Fine! Now hurry up!"

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the Mandalorian #the Mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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marvelite624 · 2 years

Text

Donny and I returned to Frankie and Sarah's place earlier than we'd planned. When we pulled up, I sent Donny in with an arm load of beer to refrigerate. Sarah, at the door, said my brother was out back messin' about, so I headed on around the house to find him.

There he sat, with our father's bass cello out, strumming away. "What in the world are you doing back here?", I asked. "Hey, you're early!" "Yeah. Neither of us could sleep. So, we cut the nap short and headed on over. I figured we could order out for pizza just as well. But, what...?" "Am I doin' with this thing out? You got me to thinkin' about Dad, which got me to thinkin' about how he'd sit strummin' it in his spare time. He used to say, 'You can be anything you want, boys. Rocket scientist, teacher, astronaut, farmer...cello player for a big symphonic orchestra, anything you want! Just be sure you're doing what you love so it can love you back.' He loved this cello." "Yeah, I remember, Frankie. He swore he'd make first chair one day. Ha! He could barely carry a tune, much less the string section for an orchestra!" "But he kept at it cause it moved him. This cello let joy into his heart and lifted him up when he needed it. I thought maybe it could do the same for me." "And has it?", I asked. "It's brought back some sweet memories, put a smile on my face...so yeah, I guess it has at that!"

It was great seeing that smile too but, this was just making what I had left to tell him that much harder. It was then that Donny walked up. "So, that's what all the noise is, comin' in the back door! I'd clap but, frankly Frankie, you kinda stink!" We all laughed as Donny passed out the beer. He'd already popped the top off a few so I took one, even though I didn't really want it just then. "So, when are you guys gonna fill me in on the big mysterious secret Gil keeps hintin' at?"

Frankie stood to put the cello back in its' case and gave me a hand down/palm up gesture to "give me the stage". I began by telling him about my 'flashes', even how I'd just had one at his place a few hours ago. I filled him in on some of the things Becka had done and said, and about the electric lightshow Frankie had reluctantly 'treated' us to after he'd left last night. I continued until he was aware of the cover-up surrounding Mom and Dad's 'accident', and the x-ray...which is pretty much where the conversation needed to resume.

"Are you guys nuts, or what? Is this a joke or somethin'?" I knew that would be his initial response, no surprise there. It was a lot to swallow, after all. So, without giving Frankie any details, I described to him exactly what he was wearing at Boots and Bottoms 'that night', what Olin was wearing..."You mean, when you were tryin' to break my fingers, you were actually inside my head, livin' that night over with me?" "Yeah, exactly.", I told him. "Get the fuck outta here! You...really... you can...naaaaw. Shit." He sat blankly staring for a moment and then whipped a hand behind his back. "How many fingers am I holdin' up?", he asked. Supressing an unexpected urge to laugh, I started to reply, "It doesn't work like..." "Three.", came the interrupting voice from behind Donny. It was Sarah approaching, little Becka in tow. Donny turned in surprise. "Oops! Did I spoil your fun?", Sarah continued. "I figure you're havin' trouble buyin' the story you're hearin'. Well, believe it, Donny-boy. Every word of it is true and wait till I tell you about the apples that went into the pie you liked so much, not to mention the talkin' radio." At that, Frankie and I both looked at Sarah, scratching our heads. "Mommy, I'n hungwy." Becka finally threw in her two cents. I needed to make a phone call.

We all shuffled back into the house as it was starting to get dark out anyway. Donny was shaking his head, rubbing the back of his neck, still unsure of what to think. Frankie was still outside as he'd had to put the cello back in the storage shed. I picked up the receiver and dialed a number kept handy by the phone. "Any special requests, people?" "Daddy likeses exra cheese, Gil!", Becka called back. The other two just said, "Nope." and "Not really." A lot of help they were.

Having placed our order, I joined everyone at the table. Frankie was in now and had retrieved the x-ray from the drawer in the side table by the kitchen doorway. Peskers was busy pawing at the cellar door once again, so Becka scooped him up and sat with him underneath Mr. Pickles' ledge. Sarah centered the radio on the tabletop between us and shared her story about it, and the sudden bounty of fruit on neighbor Nadine's trees.

Frankie studied the x-ray intently. The time for me to tell him the rest of it was fast approaching. Oh well, no sense putting it off any longer. I took a deep breath, swallowed and said..."Sarah, would you mind making a fresh pot of coffee? We may be needing it!" "Not at all, Gil, you read my mind again!" She gave Donny a pointed gun finger and a hearty chuckle as she stood and walked away. Donny popped the top on another beer and squirmed in his chair a bit. I'd used my last stall, the time was here.

"Frankie.", I said, "Look at me. Put that film down and just look at me, please." My brother lay the x-ray down on the envelope it arrived in and turned to face me. "Uh-oh, this sounds serious. What?" He closed his eyes tightly and his head sunk into his shoulders, turtle-like as he awaited my reply. I sat there, looking at him...almost amused despite what I was about to say next. One eye popped back open to glare back at me. "Frankie...it's about Dad." Both eyes open now, he lost the silly look he'd attempted to maintain. Finally it dawned on him that I'd something important to tell him. I just said it, "Dad's alive. Alive and well."

Donny sprayed a mouthful of Bud Light across the table. Sarah dropped an 'unbreakable' cup she'd taken from the rack. Frankie just fell back against the chair as if entering a trance or something. Becka, across the way, in a tiny voice barely audible offered, "I just knew it!"

"You knew this...have known all along?! Why...?" "Because of the circumstances, I couldn't tell you, brother. I don't really know why Dad went along with the deception. He must have had good reasons! Dad loves us, I know that and somehow, I feel he's trying, in his own way, to keep us safe. I know that he's the one who sent this x-ray to you. There's something he wants you to know. I also know that, if he could reveal himself, he would. Exposing this part of the truth may place him, and every one of us in danger. We have to wait. It's what I've been doing for years now."

I couldn't hold it back any longer. As I spoke that last sentence, I broke and began to weep as I raised my arms to Frankie. What was I asking for? Comfort, support, forgiveness? What was I offering? Succor? These things we both needed were just within reach, or perhaps now, just out of reach, suspended in the moment. This one pivotal bridge, dreaded for years and now crossed, was behind me and there could be no going back.

Frankie stood, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He turned a glance at Sarah and I feared the worst. He too had begun to cry...quietly, not wanting to appear weak in front of his wife and daughter, not again. The overhead light flickered briefly. Suddenly, Becka was there. She placed a hand on her father's fist and the other onto my outstretched hand, never taking her eyes off my brother. And in that scratchy-sweet voice, "Butter my buns and call me Bisquit?", was all she said. Sarah raised a hand to cover her mouth as her eyes welled full. Frankie relaxed and slowly extended his arms to pull me from the chair. We hugged each other sharing our strengths and weaknesses, a bond I'd feared broken became stronger than ever it was before. "That's my boys.", Donny said, "And no fireworks. Damn!" 'Tidbits' was looking over the table at Donny now...guess we'd be feeding the pickle tonight, too!

The coffee was hot and Sarah kept it coming as we all studied the x-ray, passing it around between us. Not one suggestion from any of us as to what it could be. If only we could see it better. Was it a memento from "them"? If so, what was it for? Frankie shuddered more than once at the thought of it being inside of him. I half expected him to grab a knife any minute now and start carving, hell, he might have if little Becka weren't there.

Donny leaned out to address Becka who again, sat holding her precious Peskers. "Bet you're about to starve to death, huh, Baby girl?" "My tummy is tawkin' to me, uh-huh." "That pizza had better be free! Where is the guy?" He slapped the tabletop to express his annoyance as he crushed the beer can he'd just emptied. A rather loud belch escaped his belly. "Oh, sorry. Could I get a cup of that coffee, Sarah?" "Sure, Donny. You just stay where you are though, I'll get it for ya." "Always the perfect hostess, aren't you lady?" "Well, sometimes I do accept tips!" She was already pouring his cup, "Tonight, I..." The radio lying forgotten on the table, sprang to life.

At first, just noise as it squawked and hissed up and down, through various programs amid the prevalent static. We all stared at it, shocked and amazed. Donny stood quickly, knocking his chair over backwards as he did. The noise frightened Peskers, who lept from Becka's lap to resume his assault on that door. Sarah almost over-filled the cup she held, but caught herself.

The radio finally settled on a resting place and was silent for a brief moment. Then came the voice. With a soft, pleasant electronic warble, it began, "He will soon be here." Donny followed with, "I'll be damned." and Sarah too, "What did I tell ya, guys?", as she deposited the cup on the counter and made her way to where Becka sat under the window. We saw headlights sweep the front room. "He is not what he pretends to be. Do not allow him entry."

Donny shushed the cat from the door, clapping hands at him as he passed to retrieve his coffee from where Sarah had left it. Again, the radio spoke, "Send the man away quickly. Do not accept his offerings. Beware that which he brings." Becka hopping to her feet, interrupted excitedly, "It's my fren...my fren in the dawk!" Then came a rapid, insistent knock at the front door. "Hellooo, pizza delivery! Anybody hungry in there!?" The voice from the other side of the door sounded oddly desperate.

I motioned for everyone to stay put and headed for the door. As quietly as possible, I attached the chain restraint and cracked it open. "Two large pepperonis, extra cheese! That's $19.48, mister. Hey, you gonna let me in or what?" "Sorry, dude, there's been a mistake. We didn't order pizza." "Hold on now, ain't this "793 Green Valley Road"? We got an order from this address!" "Well, you got the address right but, I'm telling you, we didn't order any pizzas." "Well, it's late now, and gettin' cold...here, might as well take 'em, on the house." "No thanks...thanks, anyway." I started to shut the door then but, the guy inserted a foot to stop me.

"Hey, I can't go back with these bad boys! It could get me fired, you know? Help me out, dude!" He was sounding more desperate by the second. There was tension...and growing anger in his tone. From behind him, I heard a more familiar voice speak up sternly, "Take your foot outta the door before I break it off, "dude". The guy turned to see Donny standing there, silhouetted in the headlights, a good half foot taller than he, broad shouldered, and sounding like he meant business. He pulled his foot out of the door.

"Now, take your damned pizza and use that foot to get you the hell outta here. Do I need to say it again?" "Nope. Just chill, mister...I'm goin', I'm goin'." Donny had gone out the back door and come around to lend me his special brand of help. He knew I would just "talk it to death" and decided to speed things along. The guy got back in his car and backed away from the house, gone but not forgotten. Only then did I release the chain and tell Donny to bring his beefy butt back into the house. Poking a finger into his chest, "You're so bad, Mr. Dodson!" He just grinned and sauntered past me.

Gathered again, we were all wondering why we'd had to send our dinner away so harshly. We were still hungry after all and Sarah was probably wishing she had cooked something instead of listening to me. "Well, looks like it's a pot-luck and leftovers night.", she said, opening the refrigerator. "We've still got spaghetti, about half a meatloaf, veggies, soups in the pantry, and apples...lots of apples! Or, I could fix a late breakfast, whip up some pancakes and bacon?" Frankie spoke next, "That sounds good, honey. Right guys? Donny?" He didn't answer, just sat stoicly silent. "Donny?", I said, concern in my tone. He reached for the radio, stood, and walked to the cellar door, opening it. "Donny!?", but he wasn't hearing me. I rose from my seat as Donny began to descend the stairs, 'Tidbits' quickly skipped over to shut the door behind him. She turned to me saying, "Let him go, Unca Gil. It's a good thing, I just know it!"

We stood there, bewildered...looking at Becka, intent on keeping us away from the cellar. I was at a loss for words, having watched my boyfriend begin a descent into pitch blackness and now, being faced down by a four year old. If the night could get any stranger, I didn't see how.

(continued in Part 16)

•This is an original work of fiction and labor of love, written by me, Terry G. Nunley.

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smol-bean-buchanan · 3 years

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okay so, the basis of Loki is that he messed up the timeline and has to help fix it. what i’m wondering is, what did they (or do they) plan to do to steve? he messed up the timeline big time when he stayed with peggy; and he doesn’t (didn’t) have to face any consequences, but loki does? idk it doesn’t make much sense to me ;-;

note: i apologize for like the gazillionth time. i know i promised to make these short, but i can never help it, lmao. thankfully ya girl finally found out how to use the “keep reading” feature on mobile, so here’s to saving both of us the headache of seeing my long-ass incoherent thoughts on the dash. 👍🏼

i’d honestly be surprised if they mentioned steve’s case at all. i feel like marvel is so focused on setting up a new story arc that we’ll probably get a cheap excuse or simply nothing at all. my hunch is that if they do decide to address it, it’ll be something along the lines of “steve rogers was a righteous hero, and loki is, well, loki, they’re each getting what they deserve” kind of thing. not the best-worded scenario, i know, but you get the picture. i get deeper into it below.

let’s start with loki. it actually makes sense that the tva is harsher on him since the series centers on 2012 loki. 2012 loki is still a pretty vindictive person following the events of the first thor and avengers films, so of course he’s gonna pose as a bigger threat than the loki we knew who went through a slow but sure character growth. aside from mobius making it a point to call out loki’s backstabbing habit, it’s also literally his title as the “god of mischief” to fuck things up, so him being a problem for the tva doesn’t really come out of nowhere. based on the trailer/teasers, it actually opens up the nice possibility of his character growth coming sooner in that particular timeline, so working with the tva could maybe be beneficial for him? heavy emphasis on “maybe.”

anywho, moving onto steve. something that kinda irks me is how it’s never been canonically answered if steve’s decision to stay with peggy in the past had any lasting effects on that particular timeline. i know theories have been thrown around and the russos have put in their two cents during interviews, but my clown-ass has still hoped for a solid answer as to what the fuck happened. for now, here’s my own hot take:

in endgame, we learned how timelines/realities could be drastically altered by a single interference. in the context of endgame, taking an infinity stone would cause serious damage to the timeline from which it came. that’s the whole reason why the ancient one refused to give banner the time stone from her timeline to use in his. she believed his intention was simply to take and didn’t give in until banner reasoned that returning the stone actually erases the possibility of creating the harmful timelines she dreaded. the key takeaway here is that returning saves the timeline.

after the final battle, steve goes back in time and returns all of the infinity stones to their respective timelines, saving them from any danger. i’m gonna assume that the tva was fully aware of what was going on at this point but decided not to interfere because they knew 1.) the stones would be returned and 2.) it was for the good of each of those timelines, including (and most importantly) the main one. this goes into why i don’t think the tva would’ve done anything about steve’s decision to switch timelines — in the end, steve returned to his own timeline. sure he probably only did so to give sam the shield, but in the process, similar to the infinity stones, it’s likely he actually saved the main timeline from a drastic change with his return, so the tva let him off the hook.

i wasn’t too familiar with the tva in general before it was announced that they’d play a big role in the series, but from my brief research, they don’t seem to interfere with good will-driven situations, so maybe i’m not too far off? (narrator: she was, in fact, too far off. and a dumbass for thinking she wasn’t.)

idk. that’s my take. it makes no sense, i know. i’m sorry. it’s 1 am. do take all of these thoughts with a grain of salt.

side note, i think it would’ve been cool to introduce the tva in endgame, if they summoned tony the second he figured out that time travel was possible. like, wouldn’t it be funny if they just came to him and said “listen, we know it’s to save the universe and all, but if you fuck it up, we fuck you up, capisce?” and left lmao. god i need to sleep. g’night.

#it’s been a hot minute since i’ve answered questions maybe that’s why i rambled too much lmao #marvel #mcu #marvel studios #loki #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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poptod · 3 years

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Hi again! Umm, I don’t know if you write for our hardass detective but here’s my two cents of an hc: You’ve been trying to purposely keep something from him all day and he tries something different. After you take a shower, he switches out your regular panties with vibrating ones and keeps the remote. So when he interrogates you he has a sinister/smutty edge to it. (I understand if this request is too weird or you don’t write for this character 👍🏾)

Notes: oooff this was a hard one for me, i hope i did alright. had to make it a female reader but pronouns aren't mentioned! WC: 992

"You're a little off this morning," he says in that low voice, rough with sleep. You bite the inside of your cheek.

"How so?"

"You're just... off," he says. You should've expected him to notice something––he knows you far too well, and beyond that, figuring out when people are lying is literally his job.

"Is something wrong?" He asks.

"No," you lie, pretending to look nonchalant. Well, it's not a total lie. Nothing's really wrong. There's just something he can't know.

He glares at you from across the table but says nothing. Already you can tell ideas are stewing in his head, figuring out how he can draw the truth from you. You know the drill by heart; every time you try to throw him a surprise party, he's figured out what you're planning days before the actual party. It's irritating––very irritating––but there's nothing like the sly light in his eye as he watches you, his glare burning right through your skin. He sits in his cushioned chair, legs spread wide as he toys with the collar of his shirt.

Today is no different from all the last times, feeling him watch your every move. You're in the kitchen cleaning out your cake pans, and the moment you set down the last one, he's trapping you against the counter. You jolt forward in surprise, sucking in a breath. There's one hand on either side of you, his chest pressed right up against your back.

"C'mon," he mumbles softly, his voice rumbling and low against the skin of your neck. "I'll get it one way or another... might as well end the torture now."

"Before it starts?" You ask with a giggle, but he's clearly not in the mood for it. He pushes you harder against the counter till you can barely move your hips.

"Don't play games," he says, right up against your ear. His heat turns the tips of your ears a brighter red, the blush spreading into your cheeks.

"There's nothing wrong," you insist. He hums.

"We'll see."

Two more times he tries, using a variety of different techniques. Kindness, intimidation, bargaining––none of it works, and his head insists that means The Secret is more important. The harder you fight against him the harder he wants to play, until the mail comes and you're in the shower.

A week or so ago he'd ordered (online, as always) a special toy for you. Something he forgot to tell you about. A mischievous grin crosses him as an idea comes––an idea to get The Secret out of you. And this time, it'll work.

He has to be quick in order to make it to the bathroom and sneak in without you finishing your shower. You're humming to yourself, so he allows himself a little elbow room, discreetly replacing your panties with the new ones. When he shuts the door behind him, a relieved sigh leaves him. Now to wait.

It doesn't take long for the rush of water behind the walls stops, alerting him to you stepping out of the shower. He sits in the living room, eagerly awaiting for you, his legs splayed wide as usual.

You enter dressed in a large shirt about twenty minutes later, eyeing him suspiciously as you head to the kitchen. He's got a remote in his fingers, twiddling between his middle finger and forefinger, and the fact that you don't recognize it already has you suspicious.

"Last chance," he warns.

"I told you there's nothing wrong. You get way too suspicious of me sometimes," you say, paying little attention to the fact that he's creeping up behind you.

This secret you're keeping from him––it's not something you need to tell him. Not yet. You don't want to tell him, and as much as you enjoy this game he's ever so eager to play, you can't help but feel irritation at the lack of trust he has in you.

All of it goes mute when he presses his body against yours, moving foward till you're trapped against the wall. As he does a sudden, prolonged vibration hits right on your clit, pulling a long, sudden moan from your lips. Several questions go through your head, namely how the hell he managed to get a toy down there without you knowing. The second question is how the hell does this still excite you? How many times has he trapped you beneath him, put sin into his every touch and always draw the sweetest, softest moans from you, and it still burns when his lips touch your bare skin.

You gasp lightly when the sensation stops, replaced by wandering hands all up your torso and thighs.

"You seem anxious, darlin’," he says, the rumbling vibrations spreading from his chest to yours. "So I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do."

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses down your neck. Hands still explore your body––one he's known for long enough to recognize you in pitch black darkness, one he still reveres with every touch.

"I am going to detain you," he says with a soft grunt, and he pulls at your arms, locking a metal cuff around one of your wrists before moving onto the next one, "and I am going to get the truth from you," he tugs on the lock to ensure its' secure, "and you are going to do every little thing I say."

"I told you I'm not –"

You're cut off by yourself, a long, sweet moan tumbling out of you as vibrations bloom between your heated thighs, rubbing up perfectly against you. His hand goes up to your hair and tugs harsh on your locks.

"What did I just say?"

"I'm going to tell the truth," you push out through gritted teeth, blissful pressure building all over your body. He kicks them up a notch––speeds it up, shifts against you so it hits just perfect.

"And?"

"I'm going to do what you say," you say through a keening moan you can't hold back.

"Good little pet."

#detective baxter x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #the little things

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