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ectolights · 3 years

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Haunting Questions

Happy Holiday Truce @rebel-skull! Sorry I’m skating right up against the deadline. This holiday season got busier than I expected.

Thank you for letting me change the prompt a little! This is a DP/Buzzfeed Unsolved crossover fic with a side of Demon Shane. (Read it on AO3 | FFN)

Thanks also to the ever wonderful @oboenotclarinet for your help when I got stuck. I’d be a mess with out you <3

~~~

Maddie attacked the living room with the rare intention of making it look somewhat presentable, for the equally rare occasion of guests coming over. The scorch marks on the wall from the ectopus incident last month she could, unfortunately, do nothing about, but maybe the lime green stains on the couch could still be scrubbed out.

“Danny! Come help me clean up! Our guests will be here soon!”

“Why can’t Jazz do it?” Danny’s automatic response to housework rang out from upstairs, in the direction of his room. Maddie eyed the stain on the couch critically. It’d probably take more than Incredible and elbow grease to get this one out.

“Also, what guests? We literally never have anyone over. Are you actually cleaning?” Danny plodded down the stairs, stopping on the bottom step with his arms draped over the railing. He quirked his eyebrow at his mother in inquiry.

Maddie walked over to the closet with the cleaning supplies, responding over her shoulder, “Jazz is out with her friends, she’ll be back just before the guests arrive—yes, she does have friends, don’t give me that, young man—and I need you to help me tidy up because we were contacted by a team of professional ghost hunters, to be interviewed for their show. Isn’t that exciting! We’ll have the opportunity to share our knowledge about ghosts and ghost hunting with viewers all across the country!” She rifled through the haphazard piles in the closet, searching for the Fenton Foaming Cleaner that would surely (hopefully) remove the sickly splotch on the couch.

Danny moved from the base of the stairs to flop down on the armchair, helpful as ever. The raised eyebrow never faltered as Maddie made her way back to the offending couch, spray bottle prize in hand. “They don’t sound all that professional if they have a tv show. Most of those shows are just a bunch of fancy tricks, you know. Are you sure these guys are for real?”

Maddie spared a glance in her son’s direction, to where he lay sprawled across the chair, one leg carelessly thrown over an arm. She turned back to the stain and spritzed it with the cleaner. “They’re from a company in Los Angeles, called Buzzfeed. They were nothing but professional when I spoke to the representative on the phone.” The stain began to bubble green, an acrid aroma piercing the air. She hummed in concern. It wasn’t supposed to do that. Hopefully that meant it was working.

“Oh wow, that’s a real vote of confidence. Mom, Buzzfeed is like, ‘what pizza you are based on your favorite color,’ or ‘we tried being hipsters for a day,’ they’re an entertainment company. The last thing they are is professional ghost hunters.” Of course, this would probably work in Danny’s favor more than if they were actual ghost hunters, but, well. No one needed to know that.

Maddie paused from her observation of the science experiment that was the couch and met Danny’s raised eyebrow with one of her own. “Even so, sweetie, they’ve offered to pay for this interview and they’re already on their way here. Besides, even if they are a little… new, to the ghost hunting world, then it’s just an even better opportunity to get the word out there! We can outfit them with proper ghost hunting equipment and make sure they’re equipped to handle all the standard ghostly threats. Your father will certainly be excited to show them all his latest inventions!” Her trademark optimism could rival even Pamela Manson’s, and at times Danny questioned how anyone could have that positive of an outlook, even about things like phony ghost hunters coming for a flipping tv show. Still, there was clearly nothing to be done about it now, so Danny figured he might as well brace himself for the inevitable catastrophe.

As Maddie returned her attention to the couch, concerned frown deepening at what she finally decided was a lost cause, she opted to wipe away what was left of the “cleaner” and cover the whole couch with a long, wide throw blanket. That would at least hide the hole that the Fenton Foaming Cleaner had eaten into the cushion. Better than nothing, she supposed. “Now then, Danny, if you’re done griping about people sharing our passion, then you can get your dirty shoes off the arm of the chair and help me dust the living room. They’ll be here soon, and I want the house to be somewhat presentable. Once Jazz comes home we’ll get your father out of the lab and we can all be here for the interview. It’ll be so exciting!”

Danny huffed and reluctantly got to work. “Still think this is a dumb idea,” he mumbled under his breath. His mother rolled her eyes and didn’t comment.

When Jazz came home a little while later she revealed to Danny she had known about this interview for a few days, but after having looked up the show she’d deemed it a non-threat. She explained she was under the assumption Danny knew about the upcoming interview as well, so she didn’t think to tell him. They both supposed their parents had simply had it slip their minds—not an unusual occurrence. Besides, it was a moot point now; the tv people would be here any minute.

“Alright, kids, I’ll make sure your father has kept the lab in one piece and get him to join us before they arrive. Danny, you’re on door duty. Don’t let your father get close enough to threaten them with the Fenton Bazooka. We don’t need a repeat of last time,” this last part was said under Maddie’s breath as she headed to the lab door in the kitchen. Jazz and Danny exchanged a knowing look.

When the doorbell finally did ring, Jazz perched neatly on the chair, Jack and Maddie came running into the room (“Ghost!” “No, Jack, ghosts don’t use the front door, we’ve talked about this Sweetie.”) and Danny opened the front door, pained smile already in place. He was met by two young-ish guys—or, more accurately, a guy and a tree with legs—who both looked very out of place in a town where ghost attacks came on the news as often as the weather. The shorter, more average looking of the two had a bright smile on his face, and the guy with trees for legs (Seriously, how was he so tall?) had his hands in his pockets and a laidback grin.

As soon as Danny laid eyes on the taller one, his smile fell from his face.

There was no way this guy was human.

“Hi! I’m Ryan Bergara, and this is my co-host, Shane Madej. Our cameraman Mark is grabbing the equipment out of the car. We’re the guys from Buzzfeed Unsolved; we’re supposed to interview the local ghost hunters. This is the Fenton residence, correct?” The shorter guy—Ryan, apparently—bounced a little on his toes.

“Well I should hope so Ryan, they have a giant neon sign,” Shane grinned, earning him a lighthearted jab to the ribs from Ryan. Danny narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, of course, welcome!” Maddie came up behind Danny, and he stepped to the side grudgingly as his mother continued, “Please come in and sit down, we’re very excited to have you here. I’m Maddie, and this is my husband Jack and our kids Jazz and Danny. We’ve been looking forward to this ever since you contacted us! It’s a thrilling opportunity.” She led them into the living room, not noticing Danny’s sudden change in attitude. As soon as Shane stepped over the threshold, the electric ice that usually accompanied Danny’s ghost sense washed down his spine—but his ghost sense hadn’t actually gone off. He’d know if it had. This guy was giving him major danger vibes, but he clearly wasn’t a ghost. Danny swallowed the growl that was building in his chest.

Maddie continued welcoming them, unperturbed.

“I always love meeting fellow ghost hunters!” Jack announced in his usual booming fashion. “Always good to see more folks interested in this perilous profession! You can never have too many people fighting back against the threat of those putrid ectoplasmic post-human manifestations.”

Ryan faltered, his smile wavering. “What? I don’t… Fighting? What do you mean, fighting?”

Maddie’s brows creased. “Well, you’re ghost hunters, right? Surely you know that all ghosts are the evil incarnations of human imprints, driven by obsessions to violence and chaos. They have to be dealt with to protect people.”

Based on the gobsmacked expressions on the two purported ghost hunter’s faces, they hadn’t exactly expected this answer.

“So I take it you definitely believe in ghosts, then.”

A brief moment of stunned silence followed Shane’s statement, even Jack temporarily lost for words. “Well of course ghosts are real, that’s ridiculous!” Jack exclaimed once he recovered. “They attack the city practically every week! We Fentons have developed the most advanced ecto-technology capable of harming and containing ghosts. We’ve been studying ghosts for years!”

In what to Danny was a clear effort to ward off one of their father’s ghost rants, Jazz asked, “You’ve been doing this show for a while, correct? You must have fought a ghost before, or at least encountered one?”

“Well, no, we’ve never seen a ghost, or any paranormal creature. We always look for evidence, but we almost never find anything that counts as compelling.”

Ryan, still stunned, held up his hands. “O-okay. Hold on. This is… this is a lot. Why don’t we uh, why don’t we set up for the interview, and then we can continue this conversation while we’re recording, so we don’t have to repeat anything? It’ll be more genuine that way.”

While the Buzzfeed guys, now including their cameraman, set up for the interview, the Fenton parents whispered to each other in heated sounding tones, presumably still baffled by the lack of proper hunting knowledge. Jazz came over to stand by Danny, who (despite the strange turn the afternoon had already taken) hadn’t taken his eyes off Shane. The longer he was in his house the more Danny felt the urge to fight. Jazz didn’t seem to notice her brother’s weird mood, instead commenting, “Well I guess they’re just yet more phonies, huh?”

“No.”

“What?” She sounded taken aback.

“The taller one. Shane. He’s not human. I don’t think he’s a ghost either, he didn’t set my ghost sense of properly, but he’s definitely something. And he’s powerful, too. He gives me a really bad feeling.”

Okay, Jazz was definitely worried now. “Well what are we going to do about it? Is he a threat? Should I call Sam and Tucker?”

“No, I don’t think they’ll be able to help. I don’t think I could take him. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can just sense that he’s too much for me, even with help. I don’t like it.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Besides, he hasn’t actively made any threats yet. For now, we just keep an eye out. If it goes bad, I’ll deal with it while you get Mom and Dad out. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Jazz glanced between Shane and Danny, pensive. “Okay, but… please be careful.”

Danny spared his sister a brief look. “I’ll try.”

There wasn’t much they could do but act normal and hope for the best, so once everything was set up and the cameras were ready to roll, Shane and Ryan sat on the recently-blanket-covered couch across from Jack and Maddie, who were each in an armchair. Jazz and Danny perched on the loveseat, out of frame and on edge.

Ryan worked quickly through his usual introduction and explanation, eager to get to the meat of the situation.

“So Drs. Fenton, what can you tell us about Amity Park as a haunted location?”

“Well,” Maddie began, “The ghosts started appearing frequently about a year and a half ago, coming from the Ghost Zone into our world and attacking people. They generally cause havoc a couple times a week, destroying property and attempting to injure people. They fight amongst themselves as often as they terrorize average citizens, being the violence-driven creatures they are.”

“Wow, there’s… a lot to unpack there. What is the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s where the ghosts come from!” Jack chimed in. “They need ectoplasm to survive, since that’s what they’re made up of, so they go back to the Ghost Zone when they get weak.”

“So I take it ghosts can be seen to the average eye, then?” Ryan asked.

“Well of course they can! All ghosts can make themselves invisible, but their default state is in the human field of vision. All ghosts are typically tangible, unless actively using their powers of intangibility, and they seem to stay hovering or flying unless deliberately doing otherwise. Most ghosts have offensive powers as well, such as ectoplasmic blasts and elemental attacks, but the weakest ones don’t maintain a consistent form and don’t display anything beyond the basic capabilities,” Maddie explained.

“Wow,” Ryan said, “I had no idea ghosts were so… present. I thought they were, like, barely able to move pencils or turn on flashlights.”

“Nonsense,” Jack declared, “Ghosts are a very serious threat and can cause a lot more harm than turning on the lights!”

Shane leaned forward, hands clasped over his knees. “So ghosts can hurt people? And they do it actively? So much for Casper the Friendly Ghost.”

Maddie waved a hand, nonchalant. “Oh yes, all ghosts are driven by malice; their base instinct is to turn to violence. They’ll just as soon attack each other as they will a human. That’s why it’s crucial to make sure you always have the proper weaponry to defend yourself.”

“What kind of weapons? Like salt and holy water?” Ryan asked, hopeful to at least have gotten one thing right about ghosts.

“Of course not! A little saltwater isn’t going to do anything against a grisly ghoul! That’s why we have these bad boys,” Jack sprung up from his seat, pulling out an ectogun from seemingly nowhere and brandishing it in front of the two guests. They leaned back quickly in response, startled. Mark, from behind the camera, watched nervously, and Jazz put her head in her palm. Danny grimaced.

“This here is a state-of-the-art Fenton brand ectogun, designed and built by yours truly. It uses ecto energy to fight ghost fire with ghost fire. Nothing on Earth is more effective at takin’ down those scary spooks!”

“Alright, Dear, let’s maybe put the gun down; I think it’s making our guests just a little uncomfortable. I’m sure they can admire it just fine from the coffee table.” Maddie stood and placed her hand gently on Jack’s arm, lowering it and deftly taking the gun from his hands. She set it on the table and smiled apologetically at the men on the couch. “I’m sorry, Jack can get a little… enthusiastic. But it’s not to worry, ectoguns can’t hurt humans. They’re designed specifically to target the unique energy that constitutes ghosts; the most even our larger guns would do to humans is knock the wind out briefly.” She encouraged Jack to sit back down, and returned to her own seat.

It may have been Danny’s imagination, but he could have sworn Shane slid further away from where the gun rested innocently between them.

“…Okay, so you use actual weapons to fight ghosts. Cool. Uh… where do you find ghosts? You said something about them going to and from the—Ghost Zone, correct?—so I assume they aren’t bound to one place like in most tales about them,” Ryan said, attempting to brush off any lingering awkwardness from Jack’s well-meaning outburst.

At this, Jack brightened up considerably and said, “We use the Fenton Finder! Ghosts all have an ectosignature, so we use those to detect when they’re nearby, like radar! Even if they’re invisible, this puppy can find a ghost on the other side of the city.” He beamed proudly, and Maddie gave her husband an endearing smile.

Shane perked up once again, absently picking at the threads on the edge of the hole Maddie had attempted to conceal. “So you’re saying this finder-thing makes it impossible for ghosts to hide?”

Danny had a bad feeling about this.

“That’s right! We’d know a ghost was near long before it had the chance to get the drop on us.”

Ryan asked, “Does it work on other creatures, too? Like demons, for instance?”

Maddie laughed, “Don’t be silly! Demons don’t exist. Everything that people think they see is usually some form of ghost. There’s a vast spectrum of forms a ghost can take.”

Shane nudged Ryan. “See Ry, I told you demons weren’t real! You’ve been getting so worked up about nothing. Annabelle’s got nothing on these ghosts we’re learning about.”

Danny tuned out Ryan’s spluttered denials and defenses as he came to a worrying suspicion. Shane wasn’t a ghost—even if he had been a half-ghost, Danny would have been able to tell. But he wasn’t human either; the moment he first saw him he just knew. But if he wasn’t a ghost and he wasn’t human… then he had to be something else entirely. Danny had never encountered anything else, but if his own existence proved anything, it was that he couldn’t jump to conclusions about what did and did not exist.

Shane didn’t seem to believe in any of this stuff, even if he was currently going along with the ghost thing (Danny felt pretty sure that was just out of politeness to his parents, based on the faces Shane had been making and the near-constant laughter he appeared to be fighting). But Danny knew from experience how helpful putting on a persona could be. He couldn’t assume anything about this guy.

(Ryan seemed pretty safe. He didn’t seem to share any hidden glances or take any second meaning from his friend’s actions. He was probably in the dark.)

So if Shane was something else…

Danny was suddenly very worried he perhaps knew what that ‘else’ might truly be.

“…so ghosts have different power levels,” His mother was saying as Danny brought himself back to the events at hand, “and that determines how difficult it is to defeat.”

“So you can’t purposefully antagonize anything while we’re here, Shane,” Ryan said, giving his friend a stern eye. “I am not going to be the one to tell Sara you got yourself murked by the undead.”

“I don’t know,” Shane replied, “Could be fun to fistfight a ghost. A good old-fashioned brawl.” He turned with a Cheshire grin and stared straight at Danny, too-dark eyes glittering.

Yeah, this definitely wasn’t good.

#liv posts #fic #danny phantom #buzzfeed unsolved #shane madej #ryan bergara #demon shane

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writtenbynightlock · 3 years

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synopsis: college kept your life busy. the miya twins also have a life of their own. with your secretive nature, things became complicated.

genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

wc: 1.9k

warnings: college au, series, post time-skip spoilers

Part 3 | Part 5

The sun shines brightly through the windows of your apartment, disturbing you from your slumber. You covered your head with a pillow, blocking out the light. As you were getting comfy and falling back to sleep, your doorbell rang, making you groan. You didn’t want to get out of bed as your body felt like it has been trampled. Your muscles were sore and your head was pounding.

Standing up still in your dress from last night, you suddenly felt dizzy, making you sit back down on your bed. You hated being drunk. The things you did from last night were all such a blur memory. It sometimes gets you scared. You could only recall a few events. Scanning your room, it seems normal - just like how you left it yesterday afternoon. You can’t help but feel paranoid. Whenever you were drunk, you often do crazy things that was so not you. The last time you got drunk, you puked on Osamu’s t-shirt as he was trying to get you home. The last time you got drunk, you found your phone in the microwave with melted cheese on top. You can’t even remember putting it in there. You ended up buying a new one and got a lecture from Osamu for you to stop drinking and how you wasted quality cheese and for breaking your phone, while Atsumu just laughed his ass off at the story.

All in all, the twins were always there whenever you go out drinking because if you weren’t accompanied, you probably would have already died in a ditch somewhere.

You squeal as you heard another ring of the doorbell. With a sigh, you stood up carefully and made your way towards the door. Opening it, you saw Kaori with a bright expression on her face, which was the opposite of you really because you looked like you just came out from hell.

“Kaori-chan, what brings you here?”

“Good morning love! I brought food to help you with your hangover. May I come in?”

“S-sure”

Stepping aside, you let Kaori enter your apartment. You do remember attending Kaori’s birthday party. You do remember having dinner and talked to her friends but it ends there. You pretty much don’t remember what happened after that.

“H-how did you know I have a hangover?”

“Sweetie, I think you’re the only person I know who could empty a whole bottle of wine alone.” Your eyes widened at this.

“What?! A w-whole bottle?!”

Kaori’s eyes widened, shocked at your reaction before letting out a chuckle. “You heard me. Do you not remember last night?” You can’t help but feel baffled. Sitting down, you intensely stared at the table thinking long and hard. This sends another pang in your head, making you hiss.

“Hangovers are real fckers. My head hurts so bad.”

You say as you hold your head, massaging it. Kaori then hands you in some medicine and water. You thanked her and drank it, hoping it would cure the pain as soon as possible. You desperately want to remember what happened last night but you’re afraid to ask.

“Did something happen when you got home last night? You’ve got some pretty interesting marks on your neck, (Y/n)-chan.”

Kaori says with a smirk as she points her chopsticks to your neck. You automatically held your neck, confused to what she meant.

“What are you talking about?”

“Take a look at the mirror love.”

Anxious, you quickly went to the sink of your bathroom and there it was. Multiple hickeys were scattered on your smooth neck. A look of horror morphed on your face. You rubbed your eyes again, in attempts and hoping that you were just seeing things but it was still there. Red marks were scattered on your neck and collarbone. Your heart started to raise in your chest. You tightened your grip on the bathroom sink, thinking intensely.

What the fuck happened to me last night?

Who could even leave those on your neck? You didn’t have a boyfriend and Atsumu- Your heart stopped for a moment. Were you totally wasted last night? The images of you and Atsumu suddenly fills your head. The way he was being gently as he kisses you. The way he hugged your body as you sat on his lap. This made you feel the heat creeping up to your neck and cheek. It doesn’t make sense. Was it just a dream?

“No. It couldn’t be.” You say with an exasperated laugh before you took another glance in the mirror. You noticed how your make up was neatly removed. Was it Atsumu that brought you home last night? If he did, how did those love bites ended up on your neck? He wouldn’t. You two are just friends. He wouldn’t take advantage of you.

Walking back into the kitchen, you sit down on the seat awkwardly, not looking at Kaori. She giggles at your troubled expression, “I’m glad to hear that your night ended on a good note.”

“Oh god!” You exclaimed, pulling your hair, hoping that this was just a freaking dream. You just want to die right there. The suspense was torturing you. You don’t want to think about it right now. It can’t be your ex boyfriend. You didn’t even remember seeing him last night.

“Kaori-chan. What happened last night?” Kaori glances at you, a sudden worry appeared across her face.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those drunkards who doesn’t remember anything.”

“Unfortunately, I am!”

Kaori let out frustrated sigh, rubbing her temple before looking at you. She hesitated but continued. Kaori told you everything, on when you arrived at the venue with Atsumu. On when you and Kaori took pictures and had dinner together with the boys and her girl friends. On how you and the rest of the girls gossiped and how it led to Shioko ended up being with Nakamura, on how your ex cheated on you while you two were still dating. On how you confronted Nakamura but somehow you got slapped in the face by Shioko. On how Atsumu took the initiative in taking you home and that was it. That’s her side of the story. It was so much to take in but somehow you felt a bit relieved knowing that you were no longer have any relation with Nakamura. It did hurt though, on how he was seeing another girl while you two were still dating but it doesn’t matter anymore. You two broke up. You didn’t love him. You were just drawn to his good looks. You made a fool out of yourself. You didn’t take care of yourself.

“You really don’t remember when you got home last night?”

Silence.

Kaori’s eyes then landed on the couch before a sigh left her mouth.

“I think I have an idea on what happened” says Kaori as she stands up and walked towards the couch, grabbing the grey blazer and giving it to you. You looked at it with a confused expression before it hits you. It was Atsumu’s blazer. You could smell his scent from it, so fresh and zesty, like lemons. You then looked at Kaori again, “So...”

Kaori slapped a palm on her face before she looks at you with a weird expression, taking the blazer away from you and sways it in front of your face.

“Atsumu’s blazer. The hickeys on your neck. Both of you were intoxicated with wine last night. A man and a woman alone. That leads to the possibility of?” Kaori sings, waiting for you to answer but you just stayed at her blankly, making her roll her eyes.

“You and Atsumu were making out yesterday missy! It’s the only plausible explanation!”

You felt your cheeks heat up and the redness creeping up your neck. You don’t want to believe it. If it was true, then you really messed up big time. You just put you and Atsumu’s friendship at risk. You can’t afford to lose it. You always had fun when you’re with Atsumu but knowing you possibly gobbled up his face last night makes you just want to bang your head against the wall a thousand times.

“B-but why?!”

“I don’t know. That’s for you two to figure out. You need to talk” says Kaori with a knowing smile.

“What? No! I’m not just gonna straight up ask him like ‘hi Atsumu, were you the one who sucked my neck last night?’ Atsumu wouldn’t do that! We’re friends for goodness sake. We don’t have that kind of feelings for each other.”

“I don’t know about that sweetie. Your neck tells a different story” says Kaori, chuckling in amusement.

“Maybe this is just a rash from the wine-”

“No sweetie. I know a hickey when I see one, or in your case, hickeys.”

With that, you just remained silenced and ate your breakfast or lunch rather since you woke up pretty late. As Kaori keeping a conversation alive as she discusses her new designs for their upcoming fashion show exam, you suddenly recalled something. You remembered how you went to the bathroom to vomit in the middle of your make out session. The mortified look on your face made Kaori stop talking and raise her eyebrows a you.

“Oh my god! I messed up big time.”

“Why?”

“I puked in the middle of our kissing.” Kaori gasped and covered her mouth.

“Oh that’s not good.”

Puking in the middle of a make out session is definitely not a confidence booster. That situation could mean two things - either the thought of kissing that person was making you sick to your stomach or it was just bad.

You panicked at this. Knowing Atsumu, this would definitely offend him. Atsumu is a confident man. He may not mind other people’s opinions but the people closer to the golden-haired setter affects him. It brought butterflies to your stomach just by the thought of Atsumu’s red and soft lips moving against yours.

Who knew his lips felt so good on your skin?

Deep down, you were always thankful for the twins but somehow Atsumu has a special place in your heart. With his charms and fun personality, any girl could fall for him. You weren’t too confident with yourself and you had to endure the twins’ popularity in high school. You were always the target of being bullied by other girls. They would often bump your shoulder while passing the hallway and tweet about you, though no name dropping but you know it was you.

When you entered college, you were still vulnerable about it. All the emotional damage that you’ve been through, Nakamura was more of a comfort person to you at first, the fact that he’s the person who has shown romantic feelings for you, but it all went downhill as months passed by. He worsened you. He brought you more emotional and physical damage.

You hated yourself for it. You went into a relationship when you were still vulnerable. You didn’t take the time to heal but you wanted help but it was the help that you mistook. Why were you so in a rush?

Am I really that desperate?

How were you supposed to face Atsumu now? What were you gonna tell him once you two meet? If it’s true, how does this change your relationship with him now?

One thing’s for sure, you are in a mess.

Taglist: @softiebadbitch

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #atsumu imagines #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

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seijurosempress · 3 years

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@shoichee I hope this meets your expectations✨ (Bc I refuse to tolerate any more bullying today. Also- Matchup under the cut)

First, I just want to say- I’m sorry. (but not really). I know our love for Hayama runs deep but the moment you choose violence with him, that’s it for you. RIP. It was nice knowing you 😔 But, remember when we first spoke and I asked you if you shipped yourself with Imayoshi and you refused to answer my question? Well- [Insert ‘Surprise shawty’ tik tok audio]

Best Match: Imayoshi Shoichi

Your subconscious knew what it was doing when you picked out your URL. The moment you said you related to Dazai and then proceeded to talk about socioeconomic issues revolving around globalization while we simultaneously talked about dumb stuff I knew there were only a few guys that could handle your energy and Imayoshi hands down tops that list

Even though Hanamiya out of all people might say Imayoshi doesn’t have the best personality, I actually think you two can balance each other out and understand each other in a way other people may not be able to

Honestly, right off the bat, y’all will probably bond over some form of teasing. Whether it’s making some remark aimed directly at the other, or one of you takes a jab at someone else and the other happens to overhear, it will be the start of a beautiful relationship

Gemini and Leo’s have really good chemistry so it’s no surprise you’ll manage to get along, regardless of your- argumentative natures.

You two are like the two sides of the same coin. While he presents himself as a kind and easy going person, speaking politely to others- until he inevitable shows them his real personality- you, on the other hand, can come off a little cold and critical, scaring people off when you first meet them even though you’re genuinely kind and easy going once you start to talk to them

If you guys meet purely by chance, maybe you’re in the same class, you’re introduced because of a mutual friend, or because one of you overheard the other, the moment you hear how the other carries themselves in a conversation will automatically peek your interest.

Have you ever seen that meme where they’re like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad”? yea, that’s you two. I can see you getting into the most amusing squabble, just trying to throw the other one off, Imayoshi smirking if and when one of his comments goes right over your head

You’re both pretty smart (I spent a solid hour trying to double check this and still failed but I’m like 80% sure his IQ is pretty up there) so I can see you two meeting because of that too

Scenario:

Imayoshi is just minding his business, checking the updated class rankings posted in the hall across your classroom. Why? He doesn’t know, if he’s being honest. It’s not like anyone could ever surpass him, he’s been at the top of his class each time since his firs- What’s this? He got bumped down? Who the hell are you? Wait no, he knows who you are. He’s heard your name before countless times, mostly followed by your voice as it traveled throughout the hallways, your laugh bubbling out of your small frame soon after in reply to whichever friend had just made a funny remark. Funny. You didn’t seem all that smart at first glance, could he have actually... made a mistake? His gaze flickers to the other side of the hall where he immediately found you, eyes wide and a small smile adorning your features as you listened to your classmate speak. A low hum escapes him as he analyzes your appearance once more. He notices the way your makeup highlighted your already attractive features, the small accessories added to your uniform making you look put together and stylish. Maybe he had underestimated you, he though as he saw you take your turn to speak, your answer leaving your classmate open mouthed with a baffled expression. He felt the slight tug on his lips, the beginning of a small smirk forming on his face as you smiled widely at the response you had gotten. However, the amusement only lasted a split second, his features falling in disbelief when you turned around, tripping over your own feet and falling face first into the open classroom door. “What are you staring at?” Someone, probably Sato, asks as he strolls up beside him. “Nothing” he sighs, adjusting his glasses on his face. Is it really nothing though? a small voice inside him asks just as a series of curse words and noises fall from your lips, eliciting his own to quirk up into an amused, lopsided smile. Even if it is “nothing” for now, don’t be surprised when both of you “coincidentally” find yourselves bumping into each other more often from now on as he tries to figure you out.

I can see him realizing he has feelings for you while you two are hanging out. Maybe you two will be studying after you asked him to tutor you in math since it’s his best subject, or well, attempting to study at least as you’re nearing half an hour of your 5 minute snack break. He’ll probably be doodling in his notebook while you scroll through Instagram, and it’s not until he looks up to see you so focused on whatever was on the other side of the screen, your fingers quickly tapping away as a smile pulled at your lips that he asks what you’re doing. Without a second thought, you absentmindedly tell him about whatever argument you’re getting into in the comments section under a random photo you came across before you’re back to focusing on the matter at hand.

His whole trademark is that he’s good at analyzing people, and as a Gemini, he is not an exception to his own skills. He’ll suddenly come to the realization that, while he enjoys pushing people’s buttons, he enjoys the thought of you two being a team even more. While you can be loud and social, making and laughing at jokes, you also know when to get serious and get stuff done, something that that he would appreciate considering he likes respectful and considerate girls.

The problem now is- he may be aware of his feelings...but are you?

He’ll probably try out multiple ways to hint at his feelings towards you but they’ll just go right over your head. In your mind, you can’t see anyone having any romantic feelings towards you and sure he may be acting a little weird, but you’d probably just shrug it off as it being all in your imagination.

Meanwhile the whole time Imayoshi is just standing there like- Is she serious? No one can be this oblivious???? but yet ✨here you are✨

Now it’s his turn to be frustrated by your conversations because you’re just not getting it? So he decides to try something more straight forward. Girls like pickup lines, right?

He could literally see the moment your brain stopped working. Your face flushed red as a nervous giggle bubbled out of you. All common sense left your body as you made finger guns at him, giving him a slight nod before turning around and walking quickly out the room

it would take you a few minutes to collect yourself, strolling back in the room 30 minutes later, leaning against the same spot you left him moments prior and giving him a pickup line of your own. *queue Imayoshi’s mischievous smirk* “Oh? Is that so?” (he’s such a little shit he’ll probably pretend like he didn’t say anything first to get back at you)

I can see this going back and forth for a while until he finally asks you out on a date, but this time he’ll make sure to do it in a way that will prevent you from escaping and leaving him alone and confused again

Your PDA is most likely kept to a minimum, partly because of your Venus in Virgo and partly because he doesn’t like spontaneity. Your outward relationship will consist of hand holding and pecks but that doesn’t mean your private life remains the same, just because you’re dating now doesn’t mean you’re suddenly immune to his habits or him to yours

You say you want to spend some quality time together? “How about a movie night?” he asks, his smile deceiving you long enough to trap you in his arms as a scary movie plays in his blacked out bedroom. “I don’t like scary movies” you whine, your body pressing into his and a pout pulling at your lips as he “innocently” chuckles, “Oh really? I must have forgotten”

You say you’re a bit cynical about relationships but I think it’s because your Neptune, Pluto and Lilith are ruled by air signs. This means you enjoy spontaneity and creativity in what you do and therefore always gravitate to doing things in which your outcome depends on yourself and not other people. Imayoshi is the kind of person that respects other people’s needs as we can see when he allows Aomine to skip practice if that’s what works for him. This will help you maintain a healthy balance in your relationship, allowing you to be able to feel more at ease and not trapped or like you have to be a certain way with one another

You decide to keep pursuing dancing? He’s proud of you, and will not hesitate to show off and boast about your achievements to the rest of the team

You had a rough week and you want to spend the whole day gaming with headphones on? It’s fine he’ll take the opportunity to relax and go fishing

On the other hand, you want to go shopping? Suddenly he’ll find himself walking hand in hand with you as you and his sister stop at every single store only to leave with more bags that you can carry.

At first, you would insist you could both take care of yourselves at the mall, but he soon found out that you two should not be left alone. She might be his sister but she’s younger and impressionable and she looks up to you? And you can be a bit scatterbrained so you lose track of her time so you always end up bringing her back really late, along with an armful of shopping bags that he’ll only have to go back and return within the week because being hasty runs in his family and his sister didn’t pay much attention to how much money she was spending

Overall- I think that what really makes you a good match is your ability to communicate with one another. Both of you are pretty honest and straightforward (although your executions are vastly different) which will help you navigate through any obstacles in your relationship

You keep each other on your toes and bring fun into your relationship while also settling down, talking about serious stuff and getting genuine advice from one another when you need it the most. The balance you maintain allowing a stable foundation for the relationship to grow and blossom. He did something hasty? It’s okay, you know exactly what to do to fix it. Someone keeps hitting on you insistently? He’s already walked over to intimidate him to go away. You want to spend quality time together but he wants to go fishing? There you are by his side, scribbling in your notebook and reciting your poetry to him as he listens carefully with a small smile on his face that you’ll definitely not tease him about later. You need help with your math again? he’ll tutor you in exchange for you making him a bento with his favorite meal. Until he learns that you somehow burned half the rice and left the other half uncooked. Perfect balance of give and take.

Bonus: Takao Kazunari

You are literally the girl version of Takao omg. (I literally JUST got your message about being the new Takao too smh I know I’m slow but let me finish this first)

You two are so alike and you would make the most chaotic duo but as much as I want to ship you two, I can just see you two being really good friends so I feel the need to include him in this

Midorima would be so done with your shit, he’d probably see you two together and immediately turn around and start walking the other way because he just KNOWS you’re bound to gang up and bully him

The first time you saw is lucky item you probably burst out laughing and thought he was joking until you saw his face flush red

After that, every time you ask about it he just grumbles out his answer, still salty about your initial reaction

Takao never fails to remind you either, trying to hold back his laugh whenever you try to make it up to Midorima but he ends up ignoring you, or you somehow just manage to make it worse

When it’s just you and Takao, you could be minding your business when suddenly one of you makes ONE singular little comment and that just sets off the other, adding onto it until both of you are crying with laughter

Honestly, the only time I can see you taking one another seriously is when you’re having discourse

He’s an optimistic person while you’re a realist which can set off some very interesting discussions between the two of you, your argumentative nature leading both of you to talk about anything and everything as you challenge the other’s ideologies

If you decide to try out a relationship, it’ll be filled with excitement and adrenaline, both of you needing very little persuasion to try out new things

You’ll be his partner in crime and he’ll be yours. You want to mess a bit with your younger neighbors? Why not? You want to go check out the new mall a few town’s over because they have a store you’ve been wanting to check out for months? He’s your man.

While the relationship is fun, you both can get a little ahead of yourselves, going with the flow and getting sucked into your own world; you’ll need someone to ground you

Usually, this role can be plaid by Midorima but it proves to be a bit problematic when he’s nowhere in sight

The amount of times you two have lost track of time or gotten caught up in something because you ran into some friends or even met new people and got lost in conversation, by this point Midorima has probably given up trying to keep track of your whereabouts when you’re together

I wouldn’t be surprised if you two ended up making your own language. He’s good with kids and bad at being quiet while you enjoy making new words and trying out sound effects which he would without a doubt find amusing. You’d probably go as far as to make children believe they’re actual words, could you imagine Midorima’s face when he goes over to Takao’s house and his younger sister starts talking to him in the made up words you taught her

Ultimately while your personalities are very alike, you tend to clash at the wrong points and it would take you working together to compromise to make a romantic relationship work

Both of you surround yourself by others, often finding yourself in the middle of everything, your personality constantly making other people gravitate towards you. This can prove conflicting when you’re together as now you’d have to learn how to share the spotlight, so to say

While you love fashion and makeup and shopping, the poor man just wants to enjoy his trading cards

Although you should use it to your advantage and make him drive you around in Princess Mia’s Midorima’s carriage.

Your might also find yourself more often than not at a crossroads, your realist point of view conflicting with his positivity which can lead to arguments between you two

Overall- a relationship with you would be exciting. There would never be a dull moment and you’d constantly encourage the other to have new experiences and make the most of your time. But moving into a more romantic territory would mean that you’d have to learn how to prioritize things in your life, knowing when to buckle down and get things down and how to successfully come to terms with and work out your differences.

Sidenote: I meant to make these a little longer but my brain cell only has so much KNB knowledge stored in her small little filing cabinet that may or may not be a single folder covered in dust and stuffed in some corner

#matchup request #[🏀].asks #i meant to have this ready early today #but i may or may not have fallen asleep #sorry #i'm slow #it really took me a whole ass week to write #but to be fair #i struggled a bit with your mans #bc I went strictly off what I could gather from the anime #which are CRUMBS

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lunnamars · 4 years

Note

prompt for luffy/nami: maps

Am I super late? Yes, of course. I think I received this ask in...June? May? I don't remember, so I apologize from the bottom of my heart, dear anon, but I was going mad with deadlines and I'm still going through a writing block, so I really hope you like it! I swear I did my best. <3

You can read this on AO3 too!

map of the problematique

The day was almost ending, the sky burning with the sunset, and Nami still had a pencil in her hand, scribbling lines and forms on a once empty paper. Other supplies scattered across the table, along with the quietness of the library, helped her finish another map successfully.

Being able to see the piece of work coming to life filled Nami's chest with pride and joy; there wasn't a clear explanation to what she felt every time.

She took a deep breath and tried to rest her sight — looking intently at one thing for an extended period always gave her a headache, even if it was her beloved maps or tangerines. Robin was there with her too, but her silence was welcoming and contrasted so much with the usual ruckus of the ship. Nami rested her face on her right hand, admiring the neatly drawn shapes and lines, how her scale was correctly measured, she double-checked, and the vivid colors on the paper. She ran her free hand over the map with fondness, a soft smile on her face while thanking the heavens for being free to do what she liked; what she was meant to do.

Sometimes, Nami wondered how her life would have been like if she had never met Luffy. Where would she be now? Still with shackles on her feet, bound to Arlong? Stealing, risking her life, suffocating more and more?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door and the voice of her captain, "Oi, Nami, are you there? Can I come in?"

Robin chuckled and stood up, walking in the direction of the door to let the firecracker of a man get in. She opened the door and smiled at him, saying with the calm voice of usual, "Hello, Luffy. Can we help you with anything?"

"Hey, Robin, didn't know you were here. Can I stay here with you two?" he asked with his never-ending energy.

Hmph, always brighter than the sun, Nami thought.

"Why, of course. But I was already on my way out. Nami is still staying for a while. Want to keep her company?" Robin asked and looked over her shoulder to the navigator, winking at her.. Nami narrowed her eyes and pouted, catching on the implicit invitation behind her words.

Why must Robin be so damn smart? For fuck's sake.

Luffy had no idea of what had just transpired between the girls and happily added, "Sure! Bye, Robin!"

The archeologist softly grinned and sprouted two hands, patting their heads and bidding them goodbye. Nami heard Luffy's chuckle before the door clicking shut and right after, the sound of his flip-flops across the floor. She felt his breathing on her neck and couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine, her heart starting to beat at an alarming pace in the blink of an eye.

He rested his head on hers and asked, cheerful and beaming as a goddamn sunflower, "Hey Nami! Can I see your maps?"

She knew she couldn't be the sun like him, especially not after the trick he played on her the day before so she grunted, "No."

"C'mon, Nami! Lemme!" Luffy whined like a spoiled brat, entangling his rubber arms around her neck. Took a shower and smelling nice, aren't you?

Nami sighed and crossed her arms, fighting the urge to look in his direction and forcing her heartbeat to stabilize. Damn him and his damned carefree laugh. She snorted, "Luffy, what are you doing here? Don't you have anything else to do?"

"Sheesh, Nami! You're mean! If you don't want me here then just tell me." He let a deep breath and she could feel him pouting. Luffy was still holding her when he spoke again, voice low, "You have been away for almost the whole day, Nami. I was just worried."

"Of course I was, you moron! Have you forgotten what you did yesterday? You almost fucked up the maps that took me almost two weeks to finish!" How easy it was for him to stir her up and make her angry. Luffy was amazing but sometimes he acted like a child, something that always drove her mad.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" He held her tight so she wouldn't escape but careful enough to not strangle her. A great show of controlled strength. She tried to disentangle herself from his embrace, but that only made him encircle his legs around her torso now. Acting like a child again, wanting the adult to forgive him at all costs. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to! I swear I'll… I swear I'll… I swear I'll eat vegetables for a week, and I won't complain!"

His plea seemed sincere, but the idea that he was bargaining a thing that should be on his menu on a daily basis, instead of the huge chunks of meat he thinks is the only necessary thing to make him survive, baffled her. Then, it came in fits and bursts. One snort, then a second, the third was already mixed with laughter, and in the end, Nami was laughing at her heart's content.

He followed her, chuckling slowly and grinning warmly, then his candy-coated laugh that always melted her heart finally reached her ears. They laughed until their ribs hurt. Luffy's occasional child behavior would always provoke two reactions in her: complete anger or complete amusement. Sometimes both.

"Okay, okay. I'm fine, you silly goose. Thanks for apologizing." Nami patted his head, finally having the courage to look into his owlish eyes. His grin became bashful when their eyes met, but he stayed wrapped around her. She pinched his nose lightly and said in a loving voice, "C'mon, let me go. You must be feeling uncomfortable holding me like that, with the chair between us."

Luffy instantly released her, the characteristic sound of his arms and legs retracting echoing in her ears before grabbing another chair and sitting beside her. Her anger towards him long forgotten Nami decided to get back to work. Sometimes it was complicated to get things done when the captain was around but there were times where Luffy would seek her for silence.

The boy from two years ago wasn't like that. But the man he was now valued quiet and peaceful times as well. He was often watching the sunset, humming some song sitting on top of the Sunny's figurehead. Sometimes he was even lost in thought.

He rested his head on her shoulder, watching her pencil carefully slide across a new blank paper, firm and precise black lines appearing. Luffy's silence and steady breathing allowed Nami to enter her focused mode once again.

“Whaddya wanna do after you finish the map of the world?” Her captain spoke again after a while, voice a bit rough from disuse and a bit husky, something she hasn’t gotten used to yet and still has no idea how to deal with. It made her hand falter, the perfect line broken now, and a vein popped on her forehead.

Nami took a deep breath, picking up the pencil and sharpening it before answering him, "I… Don't know?"

"Wanna go back to your village?" Luffy asked, apparently not paying attention to the way her concentration was interrupted.

She looked down at his face resting on her shoulder, meeting his eyes and responding warily, "I still haven’t thought about it, Luffy. We still have a long way to go before all of our goals are achieved."

Nami heard his agreement in the form of an "Mm-hmm,” and they both fell silent again. It was completely dark outside now, and the lights of the library had turned on automatically. The navigator decided to call it a day and give some attention to her friend, waiting patiently for her. Waiting was not precisely the right word since she could hear soft snores, but he stayed there, by her side trying not to bother her, but wanting a bit of her presence.

She put away the new map with the others, organized her drawing supplies and putting them away in the drawer below her dedicated desk in the library. Nami rested her hand on her now empty desk, drumming her fingers following the rhythm of the happy-go-lucky songs coming to life through Brook’s violin and thinking about what she could do right now with the moron glued to her side.

A stolen glance at his peaceful face was all she needed to make her forget any of her worries. The face of someone who's half boy and half man, who has kindness in every movement and was able to see right through people. A beautiful soul able to connect with anyone's soul. Her best friend and the boyish man she loves, a person who lived his life to its fullest. Always wanting people around to do the same.

Nami scooped him in her arms — he always became a bit lighter when sleeping — and nestled him to her chest when she settled them down on the couch next to the window. The motion woke him up, but he only curled more against her. The red head rested her chin on his head and mumbled softly, "And you? What do you wanna do after becoming the Pirate King, Luffy?"

"Keep traveling, I guess." He answered and shrugged, voice still hoarse, now from sleeping.

Nami knew that was an answer that suited him. The freest man in the world would like to keep traveling, learning new things, and meeting new people. She just nodded as he started to play with a thread of her hair before asking, absentminded, "Do you think you'll finish the map of the world before I become Pirate King, Nami?"

"Honestly, I don't think so. The world is huge, and the sea is vast. It will take me a long while, I guess."

It was true. Nami would probably be one of the last to achieve her dream. Not that she minded, no. If the Pirate King wanted to keep traveling then she would continue being his navigator for however long he needed. Eventually she'd finish her map, and his promises to her would be fulfilled.

"Good. That means you'll stay," Luffy replied quietly.

She chuckled and watched him wrap a thread of her hair around his finger, "Are you still so dependent on your navigator, Captain? I can make you a copy of my maps."

"It's not that!" Luffy turned around fast, almost headbutting her, his face closer than before. She meant to scold him, she really did. But the way he was looking at her, with pleading eyes and some emotion behind it she couldn't quite put her finger on it forced her to shut up. Was he truly afraid of being left alone? Did he think they'd separate again?

But there it was once more, the fuzzy feeling every time she was the focus of his undivided attention. The mysterious warmth that enveloped her when he was that close, when she was caught off guard. Although she knew there was no mystery there, she knew the reason behind the phenomenon, definitely knew how to spell the word that explained it all.

It had been easy falling for that mess of a man, there was no one in the word that was immune to Luffy's charm. The man had the whole world in his hands, always captivating people everywhere he went with his simplicity. But admitting that… Admitting that had been hard.

And there wasn't a time where Nami didn't have to fight the urge of finally reaching, of finally closing the gap. Maybe I can do it today?

"Then what is it, Captain?" she leaned in, her lips almost brushing against his and let herself hope he wouldn't push her away.

Luffy stared at her lips, her eyes, and then her lips again.

She wondered if Luffy had ever kissed anyone. And if he did, how would he kiss? How would it feel— her lips on his? Would it be like kissing a rubber? That’d definitely be weird. Would she find out today? Why couldn’t she close the gap?

Afraid. You’re afraid this would change everything.

And losing Luffy would be like a nightmare. It would be suffocating the same way she felt when working on her maps for Arlong in that lonely room.

But Luffy had another idea in mind. There was almost no one as straightforward as him and he made the decision for her.

Oh.

It felt like rubber and she finally satiated her curiosity, but for some reason it wasn’t weird. It was a simple peck on her lips, gentle and chaste. Maybe that answered her question, maybe he hasn’t kissed anyone yet and her heart soared as she thought she might be the first one, feeling like a little girl again.

He indeed had the world and her heart in his hands.

Luffy moved away a bit, his owlish eyes piercing hers, studying her reaction. It had been so quick, so fleeting, but her lips tingled. And that was so unfair because she wanted more but had no idea if she could ask for it. She was a greedy witch, but this was way more dangerous than money and bets.

But then he dived in again, this time with a hand on her neck and the other on her hip, squeezing and making her open her mouth in protest. She felt the tip of his tongue and felt his hesitation. He was unsure of what to do despite his initiative. It was sweet and endearing, but she remembered how greedy she was. And Luffy was her treasure much like her gold and maps.

Hands tangling in the hair on the back of his neck, the growl he let out making her pull him closer, as much closer they could be. Her tongue brushed against his and it’s really all downhill from there.

When she broke the kiss, who knows how much time later, she looked at him, trying to make him see that she wanted to know the answer to her question.

His big toothy smile told her he was about to assure her everything was okay, but he actually didn’t need to. Everything was always okay when he was around, even with his shenanigans, even after he almost destroyed two weeks’ worth of work.

""It's not about the maps! I just don't wanna sail without you, Nami!"

#lunami #luffy x nami #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami #one piece #opfanfic #fic prompts #lunamars writes

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bechobbi · 3 years

Text

Fortune favours the bold - SamDrake x Reader - (Chapter 5)

Tags: @missdictatorme - @unchartedterritoria - @jodiereedus22 - @aliceriddell-aka-zephyr - @sicparvismagnaforsam - @mooraakath- @uncharted-trash-shar - @tennantmademedoit - @samdrakeftw - @sparrowspt9851 - @reachagalaxy - @irresistiblemonster @original-drake@sw33t-but-psycho @dragonjedihobbit @ellie-drake @fhujami@birdgirl69@mafiahobbit @spaskaalekha @avast-you-dirty-dog @shambhalala@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @missymysa

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The sun's rays illuminated the room in brilliant trails. The alternation of lights and shadows made the room warmer and more welcoming than it actually was.

Sam hadn't slept a wink after reading that one page of your diary.

You opened your eyes lazily at the sound of the front door closing. It took a few seconds to figure out where you were. The slightly moldy and unadorned walls brought back in your mind the events of the night just passed.

Another unfamiliar place that wouldn't have long remained etched in your memories.

You rolled out of bed and automatically made your way to the window. You were hoping to understand what time it was basing yourself on the power of the sun's rays that warmed the day ahead.

You pulled the curtain aside. It was probably 6 or 7 in the morning.

You hadn't slept much this time either, but you felt pretty rested.

Some movement caught your attention. A man from behind was smoking looking at the sky. It took you a couple of seconds to recognize him. He was the one who had disinfected your wounds hours ago. He was pacing back and forth along the narrow wooden corridor that joined all the doors of the rooms of that dilapidated motel.

"He seems nervous ... No, it would be more correct to say that he seems upset" you thought.

On the spot you headed for the door and, once outside, you stood staring at him for a few minutes.

"Did you sleep well?"

You didn't think he noticed you.

"L-llike a rock"

"You needed it," he said finally turning to you.

He looked tired, his eyes red and circled by light purple dark circles.

"You, on the other hand, look like someone who hasn't slept for days"

Sam, not too surprised by your statement, put his hands to his hips, puffed some smoke and said, "It is written in my face, isn’t it?"

"Quite"

He smiled and gestured in the direction of the room. “I got something for breakfast. There is also coffee. You like it?"

It had been some time since someone had bothered to get you breakfast.

"I love it"

The man came up, opened the door, threw his cigarette away and invited you to enter first.

"Ladies first"

"T-thank you ..." you said looking down at your feet.

"Sam. My name is Sam"

You faced him, he was waiting for your handshake.

“I am Y / N”, he had a strong grip typical of a person who could be trusted.

He had been smart, now he was sure of your name and he knew for sure that the diary he found was yours.

While he poured the coffee into two cups, you sat on the only chair in the room.

"Here it is. A good dose of energy to start the day” he said, passing you the cup. Then he sat on the bed.

"Thanks a lot. You know, my parents often brought me coffee in bed” you said as you lost yourself in the dark liquid.

"Really? Well, lucky you. "

Lowering your voice you commented “Not really I would say”.

"Why?"

"Long story. My parents are gone "

Sam bit his tongue "Man, sorry..."

"Don’t worry. It's not your fault. Rather, I have no money so I can't pay you back for hospitality and breakfast. "

He sipped his hot coffee “Don't even think about it, it’s on me. Never let a woman pay, unless she's rich and you're her toyboy” Sam joked to defuse the situation.

A smile appeared on your face.

"You're nice" you affirmed.

"Thank you" he winked at you.

You blushed for a moment. You could perceive the erotic charge of that man from a mile away.

To distract yourself from those kinds of thoughts you started looking around. But you ended up inspecting your interlocutor’s hands.

He had big and strong hands, that were probably skilled in different fields of action, and surely had touched an infinite number of women. He was clearly the one-night stand type, yet behind that facade in your opinion was hiding a person with a big heart .

"Look... what are you doing in a ramshackle motel like this?"

He tilted his head to one side and commented "I could ask you the same question"

"You're right" you shrugged.

He hesitated a moment after which he decided to answer anyway "I was expecting a person"

You made a face "... And?"

"She didn't come"

"I understand" you muttered.

Silence. He sipped his coffee noisily, so much to fill the silence of the room.

"Was it important?" you asked suddenly.

Sam narrowed his eyes and nodded.

Silence fell again and you felt a little embarrassed, but at the same time you couldn't stop the questions in your head.

You started making noises with your mouth to try to make yourself comfortable.

Then you noticed that he was staring at you from behind the cup, he was looking for eye contact with you. He was studying you.

"Why are you asking me these questions?" he seriously ruled.

You held your gaze and stammered “I-it was like that, just to talk. Sometimes the silence is too deafening "

Sam was very serious this time.

He lit a cigarette and headed for the window. He looked out after moving the curtain.

"You know, last night when I went out to get some food I found something."

Your blood ran cold as thhe man eagerly inhaled the smoke from his cigarette.

"I know what actually happened to you before you came knocking on my door."

At that moment the man in front of you scared you. He had changed abruptly. Now it was creepy.

"I-I ..."

He interrupted you “I live on lies too, but perhaps you already understood this. I noticed that you are smart. I could almost say that you understand more than you want to let others believe. "

"You-see ... I-I ..." you tried to speak again, but he cut you off again.

"You know I have this bad habit of always wanting to screw others, but not wanting to be screwed."

Finally he turned towards you, from that position you could see his height and his physical structure. A hand would have been enough to break you a bone.

He slowly moved towards you threateningly and you were frozen in fear.

Now he was crouching at your feet and, without taking his eyes off yours, he took a lock of your hair and put it in its place behind your ear.

You felt like you had a lump in your throat. You stood still.

“You remind me so much of a person I know. Now, will you please tell me who you are? "

You couldn't open your mouth so he kept on talking.

“I know you weren't attacked because they wanted to rape you. I know that you are a thief of books, records and food "

He was playing with another lock of your hair, rolling it around his fingers. You were ready to dash away at any moment to escape from that strange situation.

Then you saw a huge smile forming on the man's face. A wonderful and sincere smile.

"I like it" he commented.

You thought you would faint at any moment, but you held on tight.

Sam laughed “You should see your face! Don't worry girl, I'm not going to do anything to you. And... if you are in some trouble you can tell me about it, maybe I can help you " he winked at you and jumped up.

You were stunned, you no longer knew what you felt. Fear? Yes. Joy? Yes. A mixture of emotions.

You were baffled by that sudden change in his behavior, it was probably some kind of test you had to pass.

"I thought you wanted to hurt me" you said looking at him.

“Nah, I'm not that kind of man. Rather, I feel that you are in a situation bigger than you. Ah here." He continued heading towards the place where he had hidden your backpack "I believe this belongs to you".

He took out your stuff and handed it to you.

"Y-yes, did you find it in the trash can? I thought I had lost it ... "

Sam laughed "Yeah sure LOST, of course”

"Well, in a way I thought I would never find it again after yesterday ..." you justified yourself immediately.

Setting down the now empty cup of coffee, you took your diary and some clean clothes from your backpack.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm on my way home. Or at least to what was my home. Let's say I want to take back my due. "

Sam was intrigued "And what what is that?" he pressed.

"As I said, my home and my legacy. Some people took everything away from me, even my parents, but obviously they made it look like murder-suicide, so ..."

The man was captivated by your story, by you, by your eyes, by your gestures as you spoke, by your voice. From the adventure that somehow lay ahead of him.

"You are alone?" he asked.

You nodded with a frown.

“So you want to take revenge and take back what's yours, all by yourself. It doesn't seem like a good plan to me. "

"I can shoot" you retorted determined.

Sam was stunned for a moment, then returned to his normal attitude “Shooting alone is useless. Besides, have you ever shot a person? I mean a real person? "

"Once."

“Wowowo! Aren’t you too young to play with a weapon? "

"It was self-defense, that's how they defined it"

"Who?"

"The judge and the jury"

Sam was more and more surprised and intrigued, for a moment he hesitated, then he asked "So you were also in court?"

“Yes, but they let me go. I told you: self-defense. " You repeated.

“Ok ok. Who are your enemies?"

"Relatives" you stated.

The conversation was becoming an interrogation, though the man in front of you did not make you feel uncomfortable as the police did. It seemed to you that by dint of telling the desire for revenge grew more and more.

"So your relatives, and you must have shot one of them, disinherited you and so you ended up on the street."

"In a nutshell" you shrugged.

Sam took another cigarette and lighting it he asked "Do you have an ace up your sleeve?"

You shook a no with your head.

He snorted and in a reproachful tone said “You need a plan, girl. Aren’t you thinking about walking into the house, shooting and getting out clean. If you shoot first, the jury won't be so kind. "

On the one hand you were discouraged, in your head there was only the desire to see dead all those snakes. Material things and life itself had lost their value since your parents died.

Staring at the floor you whispered "I don't care about anything anymore ..."

"What the fuck?!" Sam snapped "You're wrong!" he took you by the hips and lifted you like a doll, dragged you in front of the mirror placed in front of the bed and put you down. He smoothed your messed up hair and placing his hands on your shoulders he said aloud “A beautiful and strong girl like you must not give in to the injustices of the world! Life can be better than this! Don't get your hands dirty. And if you really have to, let someone else do it! "

"W-what?"

“Listen to me” he said reaching your ear “I like you, you have the ability to see inside people and beyond things, I'm not stupid, I've known tons of people and you don't have to go down to the level of those who have hurt you. You have everything to lose. You have a whole life ahead of you. Start over, you can do it. I can’t, I'm in it up to my neck and I like it, the risk makes me feel alive, but you're smarter, you're better than that. Look at yourself!"

You did not have the courage to look at the reflection in the mirror, you would have studied and hated yourself.

"Don't you want to look at yourself?"

"No..."

“Then I'll look for you. Close your eyes."

You closed your eyes and took a breath. Never before have you met such a chatty and outgoing stranger. However, all in all it wasn't that bad. You let yourself go to the warm touch of his hands. The warmth of him, his not bad perfume and his cigarette smell. His important hands were now gently moving down towards your arms. It was all very strange, yet it was reassuring.

"In the mirror ... there is a young woman ... a woman hungry for life ... alone, and able to understand the hidden truths of the world, which is a considerable burden, but she’s capable of carrying it. She has intense eyes, an elastic and agile body, but her hand is not steady ... she is afraid and she would like to go back ... Unfortunately, however, it is only possible to move forward, otherwise she would not have make it till this very moment. She deserves to be better than that, the sad thoughts are dictated by the tragic events, by the fact of feeling alone. But Lord works in mysterious ways, remember that. "

You were filled with a sense of melancholy. Images of you as a child flowed before your eyes, the happy days when everything went the right way alternated within you.

“Now” Sam continued “it's time to open your eyes, in every sense, and to look at this young girl. To love her, to appreciate her ... to hug her. "

Slowly you opened your eyes and looking at your reflection the tears began to flow.

"Thanks ..." you whispered.

“So you don't have to do stupid and hasty actions. You have to come up with a plan and let someone else help you carry this burden. "

You stared at him through the mirror.

"And who?" you asked in a whisper.

Sam smiled and winking at you said "I can help you."

"Y-you can you shoot?"

The man laughed heartily "Among the many qualities I have, I also know how to shoot, but we will try to avoid it, what do you think?"

You looked away “I can't involve anyone. This is my battle "

Sam patted you on the back "When you get your inheritance back, you'll pay me back"

Your body stiffened, you looked down and said "So ... it's money that interests you ..."

"Well, let's say it would be a way to repay me for the help"

At that point you couldn't stand it anymore, you shook your hands off him and yelled facing him “You’re all the same! Money! Money! Only money! And all that idiotic talk you gave me ?! Eh ?! Pure fiction! "

Sam couldn't help but burst into laughter and said “You're a tough one. Anyway ... do you really think my speech was stupid? "

"Hell yeah!"

"Now I understand why she dumped me." He laughed again putting his hands in his pockets looking at the ceiling.

“What do I care! You're just kidding me! "

"Ahahahah You're impressive, she would have answered like this too"

You insisted shouting “Get it over with! Who the hell are you talking about ?! I am me and no one else! "

Sam knew you were harmless, yours was just a small crisis. What was importanta was that after a long time he was having pure pleasure talking to a woman. A pleasure that went beyond simple sex.

The man sat down on the edge of the bed, poured himself some scotch and said "This speech, more or less, I had to give to my ... let's call it " marriage ", but she didn't show up"

Now you were at attention, your enquiring side activated, in a second your anger vanished and you were finally ready to listen.

"T-that person you were expecting ... was that your ...?" you stammered.

“Yeah, my future wife if you want to call her that. Obviously not in the Church, let’s say it was more like an officialization"

"And she dumped you?"

Sam nodded.

"Why?" you were curious, deathly curious.

“I've been wondering for years. I just know she was everything to me. It was my redemption. A new beginning."

"And is that why you drink, smoke and do bad things?"

“Hey hey, I don't do bad things. I am a bit like Robin Hood, I steal from the rich to give to the poor, including myself. "

"Robin Hood ..." you were perplexed.

"That's right," Sam said.

"Tsk-"

The man became serious again and said "So do you want a hand or not?"

#sam drake fanfiction #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #uncharted 4 #uncharted 4 fan fiction #fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake #fanfic

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stonecoldjerseyfox · 4 years

Text

Jersey on my mind (part 1)

Daryl rams his fist in the roof of the car as hard as he possibly can and swears loudly at his own stupidity; he doesn't even try to tailor the words as he utters a whole bunch of profanity, without its equal. Fucking hell! Of course it was a trap! And here they are, locked inside a car, like a baffled fox stuck in a fox scissors. The difference is that he and Aaron are stuck inside a crappy car with a dead engine, surrounded by walkers. How many are they? Too many. Right now, he’d preferred the fox scissors. With pulsating, burning knuckles he looks at his male companion.

”What?”

The man in the passenger seat observes him calmly. Daryl hesitates at first, but on the other hand; they are sitting in a car that can be devoured, to say the least, by hordes of walkers any second. It would just require that one of those rotten morons manages to smash a window.

”I came out here too, ya know, not feel all close up back there.” Daryl scoffs. ”Even now, this still feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?”

Aaron meets his gaze, nods slightly, with a faint smile. Is it pity?

”You were trying.”

Maybe all in vain, Daryl thinks. He’s been accustomed to surviving day by day; all of his life has been about surviving, often day by day, to the point where this new reality feels completely unnatural to him. Being out in the woods, hunt for food, sleep underneath the stars, wash off wherever he could find water. Nowadays, since the group settled in Alexandria, he feels like a caged, wild animal; shackled, restricted, totally superfluous. To admit that this new way of life doesn’t bring him any calm, any satisfaction, is shameful. But to come clean with it; if this is the end, it doesn’t matter, right?

”Listen-” Aaron says, while a walker presses its face towards the window, smears its saliva, mixed with blood, all over it. ”I saw you with your group out there. You led them to safety.”

Daryl grunts. Yep, he did. But that wasn't enough. Nothing is enough. He couldn't save Beth and it still haunts him in his dreams. No one, not even Maggie, blamed him for it, but it didn’t help him sleep any better at night. He thought the discovery of Alexandria would heal his wounds to some extent, make him feel that he was repaying some kind of debt to the group, a favor of some sort; In vain off course.

A dead bastard grins badly at him through the window. They can’t sit here. They have to get out. Aaron seems to think the same. Daryl takes a cigarette from his pocket, puts it between his lips and starts looking for something to light it with.

”I’ll go.” he says. ”I’ll lead them out. You make a break for the fence.”

Aaron immediately starts to oppose the plan. Crap, they don’t really have time to argue.

”Just let me finish my smoke first.”

Daryl is about to take a throat flare when he’s interrupted. Somewhere on the outside, gunfire breaks out. Daryl drops the cigarette into his crotch out of pure surprise. He swears out loudly as the cigarette burns a small hole in his pants, while the walkers, whose attention has been directed towards the men inside the car, like kids in a candy store, shifts attention towards the sound. Aaron twists and turns in the passenger seats, tries to get a glimpse of what’s going on outside, but the walkers are in the way.

”What’s that?”

”I dunno.”

Whatever it may be, it can't be good. No one from their group knows they are here. Outside the car, walkers are mowed to the ground like dominoes. This is their chance.

”Come on.”

Daryl grabs the crossbow. With the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and with one last glance at Aaron, they swing the doors open and throw themselves out of the car. Without dropping the cigarette, Daryl swings the crossbow through the air and hits one of the walking corpses right in the kisser. Its jaw bone flies through the air and drops to the ground. At the same time Daryl sees two figures in the corner of his eyes he doesn’t recognize. A male, armed with what looks like the shaft of a broomstick, which he swings through the air like some goddamn- he’s torn from the staff and the man, as the second figure dives into his field of view. A woman, wearing a hat, armed with an automatic rifle that she aims at a walker right behind him; she shoots and the bullet hits straight in the head.

”Let’s go.” the unknown male waves at them to follow his lead.

They start running through the mass, towards the open gate in the fence, surrounding the area. Daryl shuts the gate in front of the remaining walkers just as they reaches it. Daryl and Aaron turns towards the newcomers. The situation has changed in the matter of seconds. From being crammed inside the car, surrounded by walkers and in the belief that their last moment had come, they have been freed by two complete strangers. The deserted street is littered with walkers. The four of them looks at each other, while the remaining dead sons of bitches tries their best to squeeze themselves trough the small squares of wired net.

”That was…” Aaron looks at them with his hands raised in front of him; some kind of peaceful gesture. ”That was… wow. Thanks. I’m Aaron. This is Daryl.”

Without the slightest facial reaction, the woman lifts the rifle at them; over the barrel Daryl meets her steady, yet jaded, gaze underneath the brim. Come on…

”No, no, no.” Aaron waves his hands even more frantically in front of himself and Daryl.

”What the f-”

”Mila-” the man’s dark eyes widen at her bold action.

”Safety precaution, Morgan.” the woman replies, in a thick accent no one of them definitely haven’t heard before. ”You got to save them. Now we’re even.”

”I said no harm-”

”Yeah, ’cuz that went well yesterday?” she scoffs.

Daryl’s tired. Tired of being surprised, tired of being overshadowed and damn tired of having weapons aimed at him; he raises his crossbow at her. That might make her boggle. It doesn’t.

”I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” she says. Without breaking their eye contact she nods the barrel towards the ground, for him to put down his crossbow.

”Ain’t that smart pointing guns at people, lady.”

”Ain’t smart getting trapped either.”

Don’t fucking test my patience, Daryl thinks, focuses on breathing trough his nose; it’s not the right time to fire up, though his temper works against him on that part. He sighs and reluctantly lowers the crossbow. Behind the rifle he’s met with a smirk, whereupon she lowers the rifle.

”Great.” Aaron lets out a deep sigh. ”Thanks, again. Erhm, why-” he turns and looks at the bloodthirsty cluster behind the fence.

Daryl looks at the male with the staff. Why didn’t he kill them? She was the only one who actually did.

”Because all life is precious, Daryl.”

At those words the woman rolls her eyes.

”Wha-”

”Don’t ask.” the young woman interrupts Aaron. ”We have to move. Whoever set the trap will return.”

Daryl looks at the unlucky couple. He’s in his late forties, tall and dressed in cargos; she can't be a day older than thirty, maybe even younger. Short, athletic similar to a long-distance runner; tenacious, lean muscles. Except for the hat, she’s dressed in jeans, denim shirt, a quilted rust colored jacket and a pair of boots. What catches his eye is how worn and pale she looks. The shadows under her eyes tattles that she hasn’t slept for a long time, may need to eat, or even have a cold. At that moment she puts her fingers in the corners of her mouths and whistles loudly. The sharp sound bounces over the desolated road, against the buildings. As on command the back door of an abandoned pickup opens further afield. At first he’s sure it’s an ambush. The next second, and he can hardly believe his eyes, a boy, no more than three or four years old, with long, blonde hair, climbs out of the back seat and runs towards them. He carries a walkman and a pair of headphones in his small hands. A small backpack bounces on his back as he scurries up to them, where he clings to the women's jeans, seemingly calm, curious even with the two newcomers. The extra weight the boy puts on her, while clinging to her right leg, seems to make her sway on the spot.

”He’s yours?”

What a stupid question; the only difference is the blonde hair, unlike hers. Otherwise, he’s a copy of his mother.

”He is.”

She looks at the boy, then back at Daryl. The gaze is steady, alert; like a she-wolf watching its cub. The boy tugs at his mother’s jacket. She looks at him and shakes her head lightly, making the long hair sway.

”Schh. I can’t carry you.” she whispers towards him and turns her head towards them. ”As I said, we better get out of here.” she repeats and squeezes the boy’s small hand, while giving Morgan a glance. ”It's dusk soon.”

”Oh, but we have good news!” Aaron exclaims; the former politician returns to his role, in the hunt for voters and supporters. Or in this case, survivors to join them. ”We have a community not far from here. Walls, electricity, it’s really safe. If you’d like to come with us…”

They expect them to look overwhelmed. Maybe surprised even. Instead, Morgan shakes his head and politely abrupts Aaron.

”No, thank you. We’re on our way somewhere.” Morgan nods towards Mila and the boy, whose big blue eyes are pasted on Daryl and the crossbow in his hand.

”Though we are a bit lost-” Morgan continues, starts to search through the pockets of his jacket. ”If you could tell me where we are.”

From the beige weather jacket he takes a folded map, which he hands over to Daryl. He takes it. It’s well-used, worn and stained. Over the big blue field that is the Atlantic, next to the east coast, someone has written a message in blue ink. His eyes are drawn to a certain part of the message. He looks at Morgan, back at the message. ’Sorry, I was an asshole. Come to Washington. The new world’s gonna need Rick Grimes’. Once again he looks up at Morgan. What does this mean? He knows Rick?

”Ya’ know Rick? Rick Grimes?”

”Well, yes.” Morgan's eyes wander between him and Aaron. ”Do you?”

”He’s with us.” Daryl returns the map. ”Back at Alexandria.”

Morgan and Mila look at each other. The man seems not to believe his ears, whereupon he declares that he found the map at a church, with Rick's name on it.

”That's where I met Mila, and Juri. We decided to stick together, go to Washington.”

”Well, he aint there.”

That’s when the situation, once again, changes rapidly, in a matter of seconds. The pale woman’s pupils dilates, as if a curtain is drawn in front of her, and she collapses on the ground in front of them.

”Mila!”

Morgan throws himself down next to her, followed by Aaron who takes the boy by the arm and pulls him over. Daryl gets down on one knee next to her; while Morgan pats her on the cheek, calling her name, Daryl places the back of his hand against her forehead, while his eyes searches for the cause of this.

”Mila, Mila!”

”She’s burning up.” Daryl states. ”When did you last eat?”

”A couple of hours ago.” Morgan says, and for the first time since they met him, he looks afraid. ”She didn't eat much though. I don’t understand.”

”What’s wrong with her?” Aaron’s eyes are worried. ”Is she hurt?”

Like on command, Daryl once again searches her with his eyes, from top to bottom. She starts to move, or rather shivers with chills, while grunting, like in pain. She has a fever and is pale like a sheet.

”She’s wounded or something? Sick?”

”I don't think so. Don't know. She hasn't said anything.” Morgan meets his gaze. ”We were assaulted yesterday, the same group that trapped you I believe. But we disarmed them.”

That's when Daryl’s eyes are drawn to the tank top; it looks bulky at the stomach, as if it were too much fabric at that particular spot, and in addition, the entire middle part of the garment is somewhat stained, wet even. Without warning, Daryl lifts the top. What’s underneath causes Aaron to put his hands in front of the boy's eyes; it’s not a pretty sight.

”All life is precious, my ass-” Daryl takes a deep breath and sighs. This ain’t good. ”Son of a bitch.”

Her midsection is wrapped in three layers of gaffer tape with pieces of grey cloths, soaked in blood. The skin is swollen and shifts in a palette of red, purple and blue.

”I had no idea.” Morgan exclaims.

”Well, now ya’ do.” Daryl sputters and takes out his knife. ”Gotta remove this. Hold her.”

While Morgan tries to get a word from Mila, Daryl cuts the tape and carefully lifts the bloody pieces of grey melange fabric, seemingly what once was a t-shirt. It’s worse than he thought. A gash, from what looks like a sharp object, like a machete, runs from navel to rib cage, is stapled with a staples gun and leeks fluid. The fact that the wound is stapled and that Morgan had no idea she was hurt, makes it even more bizarre; did she staple herself?

”Gotta get her to Alexandria.” Daryl says. ”She needs a medic.”

Without waiting for an answer, as if there was time for it, Daryl lifts her off the ground. If he, or they, doesn’t act quickly, she’ll die. And considering the boy- she quips when Daryl adjusts her in his arms, most likely in pain; that she was able to walk around an entire day, and ward off walkers with that wound; impressive, but incredibly foolish. How much blood has she lost by now? What was she thinking? That staples and gaffer tape would do the trick? It’s like a goddamn scrapbooking project. She ain’t no surgeon, that’s for sure. Morgan collects their belongings; backpacks and weapons, Aaron takes the boy, who hasn’t said a word during the entire time, in his arms and they start scudding back toward Alexandria.

(I’ll be posting part 2 asap)

#daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #daryl dixon #Jersey on my mind #Daryl Dixon Fanfic #The Walking Dead fanficition #The walking dead fanfic #fanfiction #twd fanfiction #fanfic #twd fanfic #the walking dead fandom

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theawkwardterrier · 4 years

Text

(In Our Togetherness) Castles Are Built

Learning to live together takes work. Written for @steggyfanevents Hearts or Butts Challenge (hearts, obv! well, hearts-ish)

AO3 link here.

They are not, it turns out, naturally compatible roommates.

Oh, they’re both courteous enough people. They both pitch in on cleaning up, take out the trash when the bin is full, replace the toilet paper roll or lightbulbs when needed instead of pretending they haven’t seen them - they’re not monsters.

But Steve wears his shoes inside the house without even thinking while Peggy takes hers off as she walks in the door, and she ends up irritated by the remaining street grit he unknowingly brings inside which she constantly feels through her nylons. He acquices easily when, three days in, she asks him to start removing his shoes when he comes home. He’s solicitous by nature and happy to make her happy. But they have been in such synchronicity since they met, in personality and values and choices, that these times when they stumble into dissonance are made all the more confusing for it.

And they keep stumbling. Peggy has changed from fire red nails to shell pink to deep plum, swiping firmly with polish remover and buffing and adding practiced coats in the evenings, before Steve mentions, carefully controlled, that the acrid smell in the small space is overwhelming to him. Several weeks later, as she asks him to contain his art supplies more carefully when he is in the midst of a project, she does not bring up the scent of paint in the room but the idea of it lingers.

He can’t understand why she insists on washing her breakfast plate and teacup even when she’s rushing out the door, and objects when she sighs and washes his too if he tries to leave them to wash with the supper dishes later. She can’t fathom why he insists on regularly listening to baseball games, and especially does not grasp why he must commentate aloud while he does, his soundtrack of groans and curses and punctuating affirmations making an already disruptive pastime she has no interest in even more so. He likes having the windows open, especially on these summer nights, and she closes them at every opportunity against the bugs and the noise, the city-scented breeze. She buys new paperbacks nearly every week or at least every other, and he stares baffled at the living room bookshelf, quickly filling with books she will likely never read again, and reminds her of their local library.

They are not good at it at first. But they do, it turns out, get better at it.

“It might be sensible to have a box of cold cereal in the house,” Peggy calls from the bedroom one morning. They’ve once again spent a bit too much time in bed, and as she rushes to get ready for the day, he’s gone to prepare toast and an egg for her - soft-boiled because they’re short on time.

“Easier for us on mornings like this,” he calls back, “but easier for the pests too.”

Coming into the room affixing an earring, she asks, “Do we have some sort of infestation?”

“Nothing I’ve seen lately, but you never know with these kinds of things.” He shrugs.

“I suppose not,” she says, reaching down plates for the two of them (no time even for egg cups). “But I don’t usually think of it.”

He laughs, taking out the butter. “Oh, you would if you’d seen the things I have,” he says, and it’s lucky Peggy isn’t squeamish or easily put off her food, because the casual mentions over breakfast of occasional scuttling roaches and his mother’s broom corralling fist-sized rats would turn a weaker stomach.

“I had thought your insistence on canisters for the oats and sugar was simply a homey touch,” she comments as she slips on her pumps and glances around for her portfolio.

“It is,” he says, handing it to her along with her purse. “Just from a different kind of home than you’re used to.”

That evening, when she comes home and sees his shoes leveled neatly beside each other by the front door, she asks him about that too. She hadn’t even thought to before. And he tells her about floors that somehow always seemed grimy no matter how often they cleaned, about times when there wasn’t any heat - not in the dead of winter, not usually, but in the trailing autumn and snappish early spring when the chill was still biting - and Steve and his mother kept their shoes on because taking them off would have meant frigid feet.

And so they begin to understand each other. Not automatically the way they do with so much else, not without asking, but in a different way, just as deep, just as necessary. She tells him about growing up with a mother who insisted that everything in the house be tidied before it was possible to turn to the marketing or visiting friends, about boarding school demerits for an unmade bed or an incompletely cleared table in the refectory (Peggy was somewhat particular about how she acquired her demerits), about going into shelters during the Blitz (or sometimes not going into shelters) wondering if someone was going to have to return to her bedsit and find her clothing dropped onto the floor or a crumb-covered dish on the table, remnants of a life to which she would never return.

He still doesn’t feel the need to keep things as constantly tidy as she does, but now he knows that element of her, sees her requests not as something to tolerate but to understand as a part of who she is. And she understands, too, about how comforting he finds the smell of paint, the sounds and scents of the city, how familiar they are, how sometimes for weeks throwing the windows wide and letting those things in was the only way he had been able to have a bit of the outdoors with him. She didn’t know him then, but she knows about that part of him now.

So they compromise, buying window screens and keeping the gap to only a few inches, switching places in bed so Steve sleeps closer to the window, feeling the play of air across his face as he falls asleep.

They compromise, agreeing that Peggy can polish her nails as long as she leaves a window open. Steve has always liked how they look anyway and, more importantly, how they make her feel: pretty and coordinated and in control of the way she’s perceived. With the issue of smell dealt with, he can admire each new color she chooses. They decide that Steve’s tradition of listening to baseball can continue at a lowered volume and with more limited commentary, though Peggy eventually finds herself looking over with fondness at his avid appreciation of the game (even if, when he finally takes her to one in person, she still finds it far inferior to cricket).

She becomes more judicious about buying books, finally allowing herself to leave behind her tradition of newly purchased detective stories that buoyed her during the war; they go to browse at the library together during evening hours instead. He starts running free art classes at the local community center and is allowed to have his own easel there for paintings in progress.

Peggy is permitted to take Steve’s undershirts and button-downs without asking as long as she knows they’ll return to him after laundry day. Steve can eat her marmalade, but only if he’s reasonable about his sampling and willing to buy another jar if he finishes the last of it.

“I sort of liked the part where you were all exasperated with each other,” a disgruntled Howard tells them, heaping a serving of spaghetti onto his plate the first time they host dinner at their place. “Some of us like it when you aren’t perfect all the time.”

Steve laughs. “We definitely aren't perfect, but we had something good and we knew it.”

“Well, you knew enough to be damn obvious about it,” Bucky says, helping himself to bread. “And not do anything but moon for years.”

“We were at war,” Steve scowls. “And we were taking time to build a foundation.”

“And now we know,” Peggy takes over smoothly, “that good foundation or not, relationships actually take work.” She knocks back the last of her scotch sour (she’d charmed the recipe out of the bartender at the Stork Club) and looks at Howard over the rim of the empty glass. “Perhaps one day you’ll be lucky enough to take part yourself.”

Mr. Jarvis coughs politely into his wine glass, his mouth thinned against a laugh. Ana reaches over to cuff her husband on the shoulder before patting Howard on his. “I’m sure you will one day,” she says with kind consolation.

“Not one day soon, I hope,” Howard says. “I’ll leave that kind of work to you for now.”

And they keep working at it, communicating and laughing and finding middle ground, discovering who they have each been and who they can be together. They make a life that is theirs: talking in the mornings while Peggy puts on her makeup, their eyes catching in the mirror; sitting down together every month to pay bills and review their savings, their plans for them the future, treating themselves to something sweet once it’s done (berry tarts when Steve buys, brownies when Peggy does); a dance at midnight on New Year’s Eve regardless of where they are.

It’s an art, living together, being together, and they become expert at it.

And, several years down the road, when the new roommate they’ve discussed - a smaller, squirmier sort of roommate - joins the family, they plan to teach them too.

#steggyheartsbutts #Steggy #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #well..........¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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fallenfurther · 4 years

Text

Lights out

This is a post Episode 6 Unplugged fic. I’m a little behind atm, another project is keeping me from writing, so I’m getting this done on my tea and lunch breaks. Enjoy.

*******

Penelope waved goodbye to Sally and Virgil as she slipped into the back of FAB1. Sherbet curled up in her lap, and one hand automatically started to stroke her companion. It was something that happened a lot when she was thinking, and right now she had something important to think about. There were more Luddites behind the blackout than those captured today, she was sure or it, but how to catch them was another thing. The blackout had proved how militant they could be, and although the Hood had played a significant part in that, she couldn't risk something similar happening again. Chance had played an important role in the day’s events. The right people were where they had needed to be at the right times. Penelope wasn't one to rely on chance, though. Chance was fickle. She knew her job had only just begun. As the car rolled up the driveway to her manor, Penelope started to make a mental list the various tasks she needed to complete to settle this matter, and the militant Luddites, for good.

***

Just over a week later Penelope was on Tracy Island to give them a debrief on the Luddite case. She had managed to track down five other key leaders and three other followers who had roles in the Blackout. The evidence had been collected, with John's help, and handed over to the GDF. Two days ago, simultaneous raids had been done, and all eight suspects were apprehended. The physical, court usable, versions of the evidence they had collected, was found exactly where the International Rescue report had eluded it would be. The GDF now had the militant side of the Luddites allow wrapped up and ready for an easy court proceeding. All she had to do was debrief International Rescue and the case would be closed. Penelope was certain that something else requiring her skills would materialise soon, but for now a small vacation on Tracy Island was in order.

Penelope lent back slightly, her legs still crossed and rolled her shoulders. She'd get a massage at her favourite retreat booked in for when she got back to England. Maybe invite a friend or two along to catch up on the gossip she had missed. People could be so forthcoming with information if it meant they could sully someone's reputation. Sally placed a plate of cookies on the table, which Penelope gracefully declined. Sally never forced her.

"They’re for the boys. It was a tricky one."

Penelope saw Scott flinch out the corner of her eye. The man was sitting at his father's desk doing the paperwork for the mission that had just concluded, preparing it for the debrief. He was forever the hardworker, trying to keep on top of the paperwork. Penelope did worry sometimes about how much the man worked but she had decided it wasn't her place to comment. As she was pondering, John appeared, floating above the cookies.

"Hello Penelope."

"Hello John. I hope the world isn't getting into too much trouble."

"Statistically, there have been less rescues this month, though...."

"Hi Penelope! Hi Parker!" Alan grinned as he threw himself down onto the sofa next to her chauffeur.

Penelope caught the eye roll from John and the chuckle from Scott, who pushed the chair back and headed over to the sunken seating.

"So, been up to anything interesting Parker?" Alan's mischievous smile allowed everyone in the room to understand the real question being asked. The young man often approached Parker hoping to pick up some of the skills Parker had acquired from his ‘misspent youth’. Penelope was curious about how much Parker had let slip to the boy.

"H'actually, Mr Alan, I have been..."

Parker stopped mid-sentence as John's hologram blinked out of existence. Penelope sat up straight. She knew John well enough to know that he wouldn't leave like that. Even if there was an emergency call, he would just silence the alarm. A glance at Scott confirmed the that he too was alarmed by John's disappeared. Something was wrong.

***

Gordon was rubbing his hair dry with a towel. His clothes were already on, he just wanted to get the worst of the water out his hair, so it didn't get his shirt too damp. He knew Lady Penelope was here. He couldn't look too shabby in front of a lady. Walking up to the mirror in his on-suite, Gordon let the towel fall around his shoulders as he grabbed his comb. As he started to style the wet hair the light went out. He finished the stroke before placing the comb down on the side of the washbasin. Curiously, he flipped the light on and off, with no results. Heading out into his room, he flipped his desk light on. It too stayed off. Gordon threw the towel over the back of his chair before heading out into the dark hallway. Seems like it wasn't just his room without power. Had Grandma short-circuited something in the kitchen again? It'd been a long while since that had happened after Brains had upgrade the electrics. Gordon pottered down the corridor and headed towards the utility room where the circuit breakers were installed. He tapped his comm as he went.

"Hey, Scott, has Grandma shorted something again?"

A baffled Scott floated above his wrist and opened his mouth to speak only for someone else to answer the question.

"I heard that! It's not just me who trips fuses, young man!"

Gordon pulled a face at Scott before continuing towards the utility room.

"I'm heading to the breakers. I'll let you know where the original break was so we can work out what caused it."

"FAB."

His brother disappeared as Gordon bounded down the stairs. He was almost at the door when the lights came back on. He winced slightly, eyes readjusting to the brightness, before continuing. There was no way he was going to let the culprit slip away that easily! Gordon stopped outside the room and waited for the door to open. It was a short wait and the shock on Virgil's face made it worth it. Gordon eyed up his older brother, noting the lack of shirt and wet hair. The sheepish expression on Virgil's face made Gordon grin from ear to ear.

"How'd you do it?" Gordon jeered.

"Hairdryer."

"Can't wait to tell the others."

Virgil groaned and pushed past Gordon, shoving him to the side. Gordon chased after his brother, knowing that Virgil already knew he was never going let him forget this.

"Seriously, you blew a fuse with your hairdryer?"

"Yes, I did." Virgil sighed.

They rounded the top of the stairs but instead of heading to his room, Virgil walked into Scott's.

"Scott'll kill you if you blow his up too."

"Shut it, Squid!"

Gordon grinned as he ducked into his room. He had hair to style quickly so he could head downstairs before Virgil and tell the others about his hairdryer mishap.

#TAGrewatch #thunderbirds are go #Virgil Tracy #Lady Penelope #Gordon Tracy #unplugged #hairdryer incident #post-rescue #fluff #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #John Tracy #grandma tracy #parker

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just--clownin-around · 4 years

Text

My Hero

Request: Hi Would you do a Joker x Reader like : it was late night in Gotham and the reader was walking alone when 3 men started to harass her and punch her till,while she's on the floor all hurt and In pain,someone came and shoot the 3 men,then take her senseless to his "home" to take care of her?(it's the joker obv) Then idk,like,when she wakes up she's scared but then only thankfull and turned on by him and things happens?And this is becoming smuth but well 😂 Sorry and thank you if you do it

Warnings: Violence, oral (female receiving), drunk jerks being drunk jerks, cursing, harassment

A/N: It’s not as good as I’d hoped it be, but I really hope you like it!

You had lived in Gotham your whole life, and had worked at your current job for a few years now. You had walked home from work countless times, and tonight was no different. Sure, Gotham wasn’t necessarily the safest of all cities, but having lived there your whole life, you had perfected your “Don’t fuck with me” vibe from a relatively young age. And, considering how often you’ve made this walk, it has always proven to be uneventful. You didn’t tend to worry about it.

This would prove to lead to a downfall for you tonight. You passed some men, clearly older than you, but still young men by all means. They were noticeably drunk, and were all wearing suits. You scoffed inwardly. Of course it was the rich drunk in the street, the law didn’t seem to apply to them. Your thoughts were just about to drift to something else when you heard a wolf whistle. You looked up, looking around you before it occurred to you to look at them in an attempt to find out who that was directed at. Upon finding the street empty aside from yourself and those drunken bastards, you felt your stomach twist around itself and drop to your feet. “What?” You snap back, trying your hardest to keep your solid exterior despite the nerves that were welling inside you. “Looks like we got a feisty one on our hands tonight. How about you show us how feisty you can really be, sweet thing?” He slurred, getting to close for comfort. He was close enough that you could smell the liquor on his breath, and between his words and his breath on your face, he had gone too far. “Fuck off!” You yell, giving the hardest shove you could muster. The smirks they had been sporting seemed to fall off their faces in sync, and fear started to overtake you. You turned on your heel, about to make a run for it when you were pulled back by the hood of your jacket. Whichever one had grabbed you didn’t bother to catch you before you hit the ground, and the cement hitting your back sent shockwaves of pain through your entire body. You arched in pain, twisting on the ground before these men who were planning god only knows what. All at once, they started kicking you. You yelled the best you could manage, hoping there was somebody, anybody around who could help you. A sharp blow to the abdomen knocked the wind out of you, forcing your cries to fall silent. The pain was unbearable and didn’t seem to have an end in sight. You prayed they wouldn’t hit your head or rupture any organs, but at this point, you were defenseless against them.

Out of nowhere, you hear a sound louder than any you’ve heard before ring out. There were three loud bangs in rapid succession, and as soon as you heard them, the kicking stopped, and immediately you heard the sound of three bodies hitting the pavement. Anyone who’s lived in Gotham their whole life could tell you what just happened without looking up, you were sure anyone in general could, and you were no exception. You knew those guys were dead. You didn’t look up. Partly because you couldn’t, but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t feel equal parts fear and gratitude. Yes, whoever fired those gunshots had saved you, but why? Nobody in Gotham gave a shit about anyone else. This was definitely a mind-your-own-business type city. You couldn’t help but fear that you were only saved by this mystery person so that they could have at you instead. God knows that you were vulnerable enough for them to do whatever they pleased right now anyway, you could hardly move. You heard the footsteps of someone you were hoping was your savior and not another person with dark intentions. They were walking agonizingly slowly. Shock gripped your already shaken body when you found yourself staring at a pair of brown oxfords and red slacks that had been plastered all over Gotham for the past few months. The Joker had just killed those three men who were harassing you.

Surprisingly gently, you were pulled up into a sitting position. You tried to look up at him, coughing as a single word left your mouth before you could catch it. “Why?” you asked, sending a sharp pain through your chest and stomach. He laughed that unmistakable laugh as he held his hand out to you. “I’ve been there,” He says, his voice sounding almost normal. It baffled you how this man, a man known for his insanity, who had just killed three men in front of you, could sound so normal. His voice returned to what you assumed it typically was, an arrogant timbre lacing his words as he began to speak again. “Let’s get you somewhere nicer.”

Before you faded out of consciousness, you aware of being lifted off your feet, but nothing after that. You awoke now to the heavy smell of cigarettes and an unfamiliar room. You were lying on a bed, the sound of music coming loudly from the other room filling your ears. Your body is gripped with panic when you realize that you are in a stranger’s apartment, memories of what happened before you blacked out flooding your mind at rapid-fire. The men, being beaten, the gunshots, The Joker. That’s when it occurred to you where you were. This had to be the Joker’s apartment, that was the only plausible explanation. Once again you found yourself considering that the act of him saving you did not automatically mean he had good intentions.

You felt sick with fear. Trembling as you sat up. Ever so slowly, you turned your legs so that they were hanging off the bed. You slid off, slowly still, taking steps as silently as possible. When you reached the door, you peeked into the other room to see the Joker with his shirt off, dancing to the music coming from a small radio. He still had his makeup on, mysterious as ever, but you could see his bare chest and arms as he danced. And, to your own surprise, found yourself oddly enthralled. You could tell that he had spent a large part of his life lacking proper nutrition, but looked healthier than what you assumed he used to be. You also noticed that his dancing was odd, definitely all his own. This wasn’t the type of dancing that was learned from mimicking professional dancers or observing other people, this was the kind of dancing that came purely from within, the kind that involved moving in any way that you felt the urge to move. You knew you should be terrified, horrified by this man. He had killed countless people, started a city-wide uproar that killed countless more, and had technically kidnapped you. But instead of being scared and repulsed, as you should feel, you were captivated. You were so busy watching the movement of his body— the gyrating of his hips —that you didn’t notice that he could see you, and was now looking straight at you as he danced. You realized in this moment that if he really wanted to hurt you, he could have. You could have woken up chained to the bed, or worse. He could have done anything he wanted while you slept. But instead, he stood in his living room and danced. The Joker had saved your life simply because he wanted to.

You were ripped out of our thoughts by his voice, jumping as he chuckled at you. “Like what you see?” He asked, a wide smirk on his face. “Oh- Uhm-” You struggled to find a response, and ultimately failed, unable to do anything but state at him. He sauntered towards you, his long legs carrying him quickly across the room despite the slow pace he was walking at. It was only a moment before he was standing in front of you, the same smirk still written on his face as he gazed down at you. His eyes were beautiful, a stunning shade of green that you had never seen before. Honestly, you didn’t spend much time looking people in the eye. You found yourself getting lost in him for the second time in only a few minutes.

“Feeling any better?” He asked with the same cocky manner about him that he had before you passed out. “Uhm- A little bit.” You managed. “Oh?” He asked, his eyes trailing down to your arms, which were covered in bruises and lacerations. “Now that you’re awake, I think maybe I should take a look at you. Taking a beating like that can do some damage.” He says, and something about the way he says it gives you the feeling that he knows that firsthand. His tone is not as demanding as you’d expect. It holds a certain flirtiness to it, but not a hint of pushiness. You feel that you’d be free to say no if you really wanted to, but you don’t want to. You find yourself completely open to his ideas and advances, giving him a quick nod. A grin spread across his face as he walked past you into his room. “You’ll want to sit down for this,” He suggests, sitting on his bed. Your feet carry you swiftly to his bed, your mind seemingly going into autopilot. Once you’re seated comfortably in front of him, his hand moves to the edge of your shirt, pulling it up to expose your ribs. You are cognizant of the hint of your bra that is showing, and a shiver runs down your spine as you notice he looked at your bra before he looked at your bruises.

He moves his other hand to touch your ribs, checking to see just how bad your condition was. You flinched, but didn’t cry out as loudly as he had anticipated, which was a good sign in his eyes. He figured it was about the same level of ain he had been in the day those kids had taken his sign months ago. A bit worse for te wear, but ultimately you’d be okay. His hands moved forward, trailing his fingers over your stomach. Your senses are heightened, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the feeling of his hands. He chuckles, moving his hand up, testing his limits. You push yourself into his hand and give a small whine. “Please,” you whisper, low enough that he wasn’t sure he heard you. He didn’t need to, though. The look on your face told him all that he needed to know. His hand moved up, over your bra, as the other moved to your waist. He gave a light squeeze before lifting your shirt over your head, gazing down at you with hunger in his eyes. He leaned in, letting you decide if you wanted to kiss him or not. Of course you did, your body was aching for him, how could you not? You pressed your lips to his, desperate for his kiss. His hands left their position, and one moved to cup your face while the other trailed downwards. You felt his fingers rub you outside of your paints, and you melted into the kiss. He gently pushes you back onto the bed, not yet breaking the kiss. He starts to undo the fastening on your pants, and only pulls away to pull your pants down your legs. You raise your hips, making the job easier for him. He then moves onto your underwear, which are soaked at this point. He smirks up at you as he slowly pulls them down your legs. This man a man that takes his time, and you’ve noticed that many times since you met him the day before. In his walk, in his talk, even in bed he is a man that does things at his own pace.

He leaned into you, taking you in. You arched your back and writhed, desperate for some kind of contact. He grabbed your hips, gently holding you in place as he finally licked a slow strip up your folds, letting out a small groan as he did so. Suddenly, he went down on you with the vigor of a man starved. He latched onto your clit, sucking hard as you arched your back and screamed for him. He pushed two fingers inside you, fucking you roughly. Just as you were desperate to cum, he was desperate to taste it. He curled his fingers against your g-spot, triggering an earth-shattering orgasm. You arched and clenched around his fingers, but it seemed as though he wasn’t done. His fingers kept moving, roughly pushing into at a rapid pace. He wasn’t taking his time anymore, he was moving quickly, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. It was almost too much, but you loved it. You laced your fingers through his hair, holding him against you. Once he had decided he’d made you cum enough, he pulled his fingers out and leaned back, leaving you a twitching mess on the bed. “How are you feeling now?” He teased, standing up. You could hardly manage a response, exhausted out of your mind. He laughed once more and pulled the blanket over your naked and exhausted body. You’d need rest after all of that.

#Arthur Fleck x reader #Joker x reader #Arthur Fleck x You #Joker x you #Arthur Fleck smut #Joker smut

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candyshua · 4 years

Text

It’s a Long Way Home | Chapter 2

Pairing: Joshua x Minghao x Reader

Synopsis: It was dark, and then it was light. You’re finally lucid. After 15 years of not being conscious, you wake up in a desolate and post-apocalyptic earth where infected flesh-eating beings roam the streets. Soon enveloped into a mysterious group of survivors, you consistently wonder who they are. But most importantly, who are you?

Genre: Heavy angst, some fluff here and there

Warnings: Gore, bad language, physical & verbal abuse

Word Count: 2.5k

"Who are you, Y/N?" The stoic man asked you. He had a porcelain complex to him. His cheekbones were high and defined, with slick black hair that was gelled back. He wore a white lab coat, and his hands were folded on the table as his icy blue eyes bore into you like a snake staring at its prey. The question you had been asked was supposed to be responded with an automatic answer, and you knew better than to try and rebel. You were coaxed into being what they wanted you to be, so you reluctantly spat the words,

"I am Y/N, patient zero, and your loyal subordinate." You boomed emptily, the repeated and hollow words falling from your chapped lips like poison. You looked into the man's eyes again, wanting to test him. At this point, you had nothing to lose.

"Good, now back to sleep." The Doctor ordered, and suddenly everything went black.

The pain was horrendous. The overwhelming force ripped you from the depths of reality, into another painful dimension. Minghao was holding you desperately, constantly asking if you were okay. You didn't know if you could open your eyes, for the ringing in your pain ridden head was too great. Your heavy breathing soon slowed within a few minutes, while Minghao continued to hold you frantically.

You forced your eyes to open, and Minghao's deep brown ones looked at you in a concerned manner. You hadn't been greeted with these irises before, only the cold sarcastic ones, but these orbs were filled with worry. "I'm okay." You managed to mumble, unclasping yourself from his hold while forcing yourself to stand up. Suddenly, the realization of what just happened hit you.

You had remembered something.

The situation seemed somewhat familiar to the one you were in now, being asked questions by a man that demeaned you.

"What the fuck happened?" Minghao asked worriedly, and now it was your turn to laugh.

"Still don't believe me?" You daunted cockily, tilting your head to the side with a smug smirk etched on to your lips.

You were forced to go to the community's "clinic" to get checked up on. Their doctor was a young med student, who managed to flee the city when the outbreak first started. He went by the name of Seungkwan, and he was a very sweet and nervous young man.

You had found out that the community you were currently residing in was named "Fort Lockwood". The name came from the street the community was, a mere one way road with a decent amount of houses on both sides. You had also learned that Minghao wasn't the leader, but he was high in command. The leader was Joshua, who appointed several other people to be in charge of certain things. He was just in charge of making sure everything was in shape, that his citizens were safe, and he dealt with the serious problems along with the other leaders. Minghao was in charge of the weaponry, and he trained new citizens on how to fight, use a gun, knife, etc.

You learned that the short-tempered Junhui was in charge of gathering supplies, and often went on escapades for a few days by himself just to come back with a van full of goodies. Hansol, the soft boy you took an immediate liking to, was in charge of defense, and making sure the walls were maintained regularly and that "the infected" were led away from their base.

Seungkwan was in charge of medicine, and the health of the citizens. You kind of scoffed at the mention of how many men were in power, until you heard about Margo and Cleo. Margo was a teacher, in charge of educating the youth of Fort Lockwood. Cleo was apparently "a complete technology wiz" and got the power working in the community again. So, she was in charge of that, along with trying to communicate with the army through the radios she miraculously fixed and walkie-talkies.

Another woman whom you had yet to meet by the name of Sonny was a botanist. She was in charge of the gardens and growing enough food to feed their small community. About five hundred people lived in Fort Lockwood, some families living by themselves, and other people camping together in houses. It was a lot to take in, especially with your limited experience, so you were left to relax in Joshua, Minghao, Junhui, and Seungkwan's house until you were further situated into a better living situation. You pondered the thought of escaping, but the possibilities of you doing so successfully were quite slim.

Not only that, the community was nice. People worked together to help rebuild what was lost, and you appreciated that. You appreciated their will, and their determination. Although you didn't know yourself well enough yet, you knew that you lacked hope for some reason.

Then you found yourself thinking about the man with the icy blue eyes, and the memory that had transpired. You knew it happened, there was a certain clarity in the situation that you relived which led you to believe that it was pure and real. You sighed, the detrimental day kicking in, and soon you felt like you wanted to cry. Humans cry after under a lot of stress, right?

But, your agony was no match to your stubborn side. You refused to let the tears fall, for they symbolized vulnerability. You don't know why you thought that, you just did. And, to put it simply, you were fucking confused. Waking up in a post-apocalyptic world can take quite a toll on somebody, nonetheless somebody with no memories before what had just happened.

So, you just sat on the mattress splattered on the floor of the cold attic you were staying in. You assumed autumn was here, the season fresh and ripe. You then decided to look through your bag, which was stripped of its gun, but nothing else. You had some clothes in there which looked like they'd fit you, along with a lighter, some rope, matches, ammunition, a water bottle, and a blanket. As you got to know yourself throughout the day, you figured out that you were actually quite intelligent, but just kept in the dark. So, the bag filled with all the supplies a girl like you could need was somewhat baffling, which only added to the list of questions you couldn't answer.

You soon heard a knock creaks in the wooden stairs that led up to the attic, which led to a knock on your door. You came face to face with Joshua, the leader of the grand scheme. "Hello." He said somewhat sweetly. His voice was soft, and it contrasted with his rugged looking figure. He had blackish brown hair that fell down his forehead, with his ears poking out slightly. His angled brown eyes were kind of distant, but sage. He was skinny, ragged, yet muscular - similar to Minghao in that sense. He wore a black jacket and brown cargo pants, with an old pair of brown boots aged with experience. His eyebrows were slanted naturally, which gave an intimidating vibe. If you were different, you would've considered yourself intimidated.

But his soft voice contrasted with his scary exterior. His voice was something you could almost drown in, it was rich and thick like honey, but smooth and intoxicating. "Hi." You muttered, returning the intense eye contact he displayed to you.

"Minghao told me what happened...I may seem like an asshole, forcing you to stay here-"

"You don't seem like one - you are one. But continue." You interrupted ripely, your feisty attitude kicking in. Instead of getting pissed, he gave you a lopsided smile which oozed with something you'd consider respect.

"Anyway, I hope you know it's just for the safety of my people. You see, many people want to be a part of our community, or they want to destroy it. But, our location is quite hidden if you haven't noticed, it's a street many miles away from the city, in a town that used to be a peaceful suburb. But, I believe that you're alone and that you have no group. But, I want you to stay here: where it's the closest thing to safe in this world." Joshua explained, inching his way closer to you, which resulted in him sitting on the wooden floor of the dusty attic, directly across from you.

"But why?"

"Because, Y/N, you saved our lives. Usually, lone survivors would let us die as a distraction for the infected, so they could get away safely. What you did was not normal, but highly appreciated. I'm sorry that not everybody showed their gratitude, but they were still processing what had just happened. They're much calmer and more thankful now." Joshua had rasped, and you listened intently.

"Thank you for your kindness. I know my explanation seems like a complete lie, but I promise you it's not. The truth is, when I passed out when talking to Minghao, I believe a memory had came to me. And, that memory scared me." You huffed, finding it odd that you were admitting your fear to a man that you barely knew. "I also take back the thing about you being an asshole, you're actually quite nice." You had joked hoping to lighten the mood.

"I assumed so. But, can you tell me about the memory?" Joshua had requested, a sliver of a smile creeping onto his face.

"I was talking to a man, he looked like a doctor. He asked me a question, and I knew what to say. I had told him I was his subordinate, and that I was 'Patient Zero'. I think I was much younger than I am now in that memory, but he said something along the lines of 'Go back to sleep', and everything went blank. Then, I woke up." You lamented confusedly, your head fuzzy and tired.

"There are many things in this world that we cannot explain, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you, Y/N. Please don't break my trust." Joshua said, his last sentence more longing and desperate than intimidating. You nodded automatically, under his hypnotizing gaze. Soon, he led you downstairs to dinner, where you were face to face with some familiar faces.

The atmosphere was quiet when you walked into the kitchen, where Seungkwan, Minghao, and Junhui were sitting. They were eating what looked like steak, until you realized that it was deer.

You ate it ravenously. You didn't realize how empty your stomach was until you smelled the food, and you downed it within minutes. Minghao was amused at this, and Joshua merely smiled. Hell, even Junhui scoffed a bit.

Soon, everybody laughed, which lightened the mood severely. Then, you were being assaulted with various questions from everybody.

"Where'd you learn how to fight like that?" Junhui had asked, and you merely shrugged. You also had extensive knowledge in the field of medicine, the useful information placed in your head mysteriously.

"I'm better." Minghao deadpanned, and you just scoffed and rolled your eyes.

The conversation drifted on until you revealed the information that you didn't know how to wield a gun. That was Minghao's area of expertise, so you were going to be picked up by Minghao tomorrow, where he'd take you out of Fort Lockwood and teach you how to use one.

Soon, you were the one asking questions. You acquired the information that nobody knew exactly how the outbreak started, but a state of emergency was declared within 3 days, and civilization was reversed back to its old ways within a week. And then the military disappeared after six weeks, and the world truly "went to shit" according to Minghao. The "infected" went by many names, such as "stragglers", "walkers", and "lurkers". You preferred calling them infected.

Soon, dinner was finished, and you decided to take a walk around the fort to take in your surroundings. While you were just about to walk out the door, Joshua stopped you. "I'll join you." He cheekily said, and you smiled weakly.

Joshua showed you around the community, giving you an excellent and lighthearted tour. You let yourself soak in the lightness of your conversations, knowing that your upcoming days were to be filled with nothing but heavy dread. You grew quite fond of Joshua, or Josh (he preferred that nickname) and hoped that you wouldn't break his trust, either.

The next morning you awoke at dawn, and you assumed it was six am by the positioning of the sun (another thing you had no idea where you learned it from). You were supplied with clothes and shoes, so you changed into a somewhat heavy slick, gray jacket along with camouflaged pants. You slipped on black leather combat boots and tied your hair up in a low ponytail, due to its shortness.

All the women you had come across had short hair as well, and you assumed it was merely safer to have it. You went downstairs, and everybody was already up making breakfast. You smelled eggs.

"Where did you get eggs from?" You exclaimed, kind of excited over some stupid eggs.

"We have a farm, it's small but it gets the job done." Seungkwan humbly explained, and you nodded and took your eggs gratefully. Minghao ate next to you, going on about the danger of guns. You nodded, trying to soak in the information being rapidly spewed at you.

Soon, you were in a car with Minghao, the vehicle being supplied with various forms of guns, from rifles to pistols. Minghao drove out of Fort Lockwood, and to a very desert land of grass of the highway. It was surrounded by woods, which irked you slightly. You didn't like how anybody could be hiding in those woods, but Minghao insisted that nobody was, and you had no choice but to believe him.

Soon, you were given a breakdown on guns, how to hold them, when to shoot, how to aim, and how to disarm somebody. "I don't want you to be scared of these things. They can end your life, but they can also save it." He had prospered, in which you gulped eagerly.

To put it simply, you were a fast learner. Your aim was impeccable due to your perfect eyesight, but you were not fond of the loudness that boomed from the guns. "Can't the infected hear this?" You asked.

"They can, but we'll be out of here before they can arrive. Plus, we have silencers if it gets out of hand." He explained, and you found yourself not wanting to know what "getting out of hand" meant.

You couldn't disarm Minghao, merely because he flourished in this area, but he had struggled trying to disarm you. You had noticed that Minghao's once playful attitude was replaced with a firm, dominant one when he was teaching you. He commanded respect, and you gave it.

"I think we're done for the day. The infected will be here soon, so let's get back home." Minghao had ordered, and you hopped in the car reviewing every bit of information you had just learned.

After driving for a bit, you two came to a halt when a series of cars blocked the road. Men with guns stood smugly there, and you soon realized that the infected weren't going to be your problem.

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whyamistillwatchingtheseshows · 4 years

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Idk if you’re still taking requests, but i had this really cute kinda cheesy thought about MingKit’s 1 year anniversary and how Kit would spend the whole day pampering & loving his boyfriend bc even tho he might not be touchy with other people, Kit wants Ming to know he loves him just as much as Ming loves Kit

Three things were on my mind when I read this ask again. Yes, I read through it once, but then came back to as I thought up a way to work this plot. 1: Damn the SOTUS feels with that gear! 2: Chocolate covered strawberries. 3: I shamelessly watched a JoongNine fanvid and in it there’s one of those damn silly games where they have to hold an object between them. Joong lifts Nine into his arms [and I swear the little shit knows what he’s doing] and even before the object is being given to them, Nine is basically using his hand against Joong’s neck/chin the way I’ve already imagined Kit doing to Ming. His hand is there angling Joong’s lips to his for a “kiss.” Is this character bleed a wish granted? Is this glorious fanservice? Because neither boy is panicked well that is until their mouths betray them when answering the questions. For the record, not that you wanted to know this anon, but I think Nine has soo much queer energy [so I do imagine the little shit knows what he’s doing] and no one will change my mind about that. Forgive me for the rant, but the inspiration for part of your fic came from the source:

Ming couldn’t believe he bribed an Engineer for a gear. He wasn’t part of that program specifically because it was optional for students pursuing an Engineering degree. The meaning of the gear shifted, more often than not representing an Engineer’s heart rather than being just a token of their hard work accomplished under pressure from a “hazing” team. Ming wanted a gear for the former reason, a representation of his heart now hung from a necklace that he was going to present to Kit as a gift for their one year anniversary.

When they were at dinner Ming nervously handed over the little box. Kit opened it and read the little note. I love you. Here’s my heart for safekeeping. He only smiled at Ming and attempted to latch the necklace. His fingers fumbled so Ming jumped up and fixed it on his neck for him. Kit looked up at him and smiled. At the dinner, nothing was given in return, which Ming didn’t expect, but it did catch him off guard.

Back at the room, Ming kicked off his shoes. He plopped onto the sofa. Kit sat with him, propping feet into his lap. Ming apprehensively pulled them away, but Kit wrangled them back. He pressed his thumb into the ball of Ming’s left foot. The boy let out the loudest groan Kit ever heard him make over the year and that was saying something. Kit massaged the left one for a good ten minutes, then he moved to the right foot. Ming was now laying down, his head against the arm of the sofa. His eyes were fluttering closed and soon enough Kit heard snores.

–

That was the end of their anniversary day. It wasn’t a big spectacle, but the one thing Ming enjoyed seeing was Kit now adding the necklace to his morning dress routine. For some reason he always put it on before he put on a shirt and then he pulled it from underneath to situate the gear against his chest.

“Are you going to get dressed?” Kit could see Ming staring at him through the mirror. Ming jumped out of the bed to wrap arms around him. Kit smiled. “I have an anniversary surprise for you anyway. So get dressed.”

Ming raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Soon enough they were in Kit’s car driving to a destination unknown.

—

They arrived at the beach. The same beach where Ming first realized that he was going to chase after his now stubborn boyfriend. From the back of the car [Ming had no idea it was there], Kit procured a picnic basket. Kit sheepishly grinned at him when Ming leaned against the back of the car admiring him. “Surprise!” Kit playfully said. “A beach picnic.” Kit had the basket in hand, Ming in the other hand. As they trekked through the sand, Kit lost his footing, the basket tumbling out of his hands and Ming falling with him. They both cackled as they immediately felt beach sand filling every crevice possible. Ming had fallen on top of him. Kit looked up at those beautiful eyes that mesmerize him every time. Every day for the past year those big brown eyes filled him with love.

“Now that I have your heart for safe keeping it doesn’t mean I have to treat you like something fragile right?”

“You being fragile with someone or anything? Ha!” Ming snapped. “That doesn’t seem right, because the KitKat I know plays rough.”

“Does he?” Kit ignored the nickname. Which did he prefer? It’s been a year and he can’t make up his mind about “Kitty” or “KitKat”- in reality the best sound was when Ming simply and excitedly said, “Kit!” Ming couldn’t get in another word because with impressive strength he rolled them over so that he was on top.

Could they make out on the beach all day? Yes. They could. Kit aimed for it, but the passerby would probably gawk. Kit reluctantly pulled his lips away. Ming chased them back, gripping hair to “force” one more kiss. Kit didn’t want it to end but he escaped. Ming sat up on his elbows watching Kit as he grabbed the toppled over picnic basket. Hopefully everything was fine. So they had to eat with their hands because the silverware got sandy. Who the fuck cares? It was mostly finger food anyway, because feeding Ming chocolate covered strawberries was next on the agenda.

—

Ming licked chocolate from his lips. He remembered when Kit had been too shy to even remotely share a drink with the same straw. Now, on a public beach he was feeding him. Ming couldn’t ask for anything better. This was the best. There was only one more strawberry. Kit reaches for it and bites off the leaf. He then puts part of the strawberry in his mouth, chocolate end facing Ming. He immediately bites half of it into his mouth, their lips touching a little bit. As they finish their bites, lips connected to share a strawberry and chocolate flavored kiss.

–

Later that day, Ming become busy with a study group, leaving Kit to his own devices. That only meant he had a chance to decorate the room. Several hours later the bedroom door opened and Ming received a face full of balloon.

“Happy Anniversary!” Kit exclaimed. He rounded the room. It looked like someone’s art exhibit as he admired the pictures of them on the walls. They were temporarily hung there, because Ming assumed Kit didn’t want to ruin the dorm walls. Still the gesture wasn’t lost on him. The gesture, in fact, made tears well up to the surface. When Ming found the last picture on the wall, it was a recent one. From yesterday at the beach. When the heat died down from the kiss, they leaned in for a picture. Kit would never forget the grin on Ming’s face when he surprised him with a quick cheek kiss as he snapped the picture. How in the world it came out a perfect shot baffled Kit, but he wouldn’t complain that much.

Here’s to the old memories and here’s to creating the new. I love you, Ming, the back of the photo read. An empty frame sat on the desk. Ming could see the top left corner adorned with an Earth charm and the right held a Moon charm. He wondered if the frame was custom made or store bought. He didn’t ask. Either way it made him happy. Really happy. Arms wrapped around his waist from the side and his arm automatically slid around Kit’s shoulders.

“Can I put it in the frame?” Ming sniffled. Kit nodded as Ming released him to work open the back of the frame and slide the picture in. He positioned it on the desk so that it can be clearly seen by either one of them if they sat there to study. Kit squeezed him harder.

“I know it’s late,” he muttered. “This gift. I hadn’t finished planning it by the time we had dinner on our actual anniversary night. Then after that dinner my plans were stalled.” He joked and before a word could pass from Ming’s mouth, Kit pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s.

Ming lifted him in his arms and to Kit it always felt like floating on a cloud. As if the ground were lost underneath his feet and he could fly. Ming pulled back a second, tears still threatening to bubble over. Some of them did and Kit wiped them away. “I love you so much,” Kit whispered when he leaned their foreheads together. Ming pulled them apart to regain composure, fearful that more tears would stain his cheeks. He pinched Ming’s chin and slowly leaned up for another kiss. As usual, the little shit didn’t lean down, so Kit was on his tip toes. He took the opportunity to jump into his arms, a hand caressing up his neck and turning that beautifully chiseled jaw to capture lips.

Kit made a silent vow for the future to come: Whether it was an anniversary or not, Kit would find a way to show Ming how much he loved him.

#mingkit #2moons2 #fic requests #also it may be inaccurate because honestly have no idea how the hazing program works #do all engineers get gears? or the ones only doing the program?#should probably do accurate research on that #EITHER WAY IMAGINE KIT AND BEAM RUNNING INTO EACH OTHER LATER #OH LOOK WE ARE BOTH WEARING GEARS #BEAM HAVING A BRACELET INSTEAD #AHAHAHH #THEY BOTH WOULD LOOK AT EACH SHRUG AND THEN LAUGH #THEN ARGUE ABOUT WHOSE BOYFRIEND IS THE SEXIEST #THIS IS A LONG POST #with a tag rant too #sorry guys!!

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teamhook · 4 years

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A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

This story will be finished by the end of the month. :)

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 11: Getting To Know You, The Real You

"How did you end up with the job of giving me a tour of the estate and making me feel welcomed? Last time I saw you, we were at the convent, not being extremely friendly if I recall correctly," Killian asks as he sits in front of Emma while drinking his tea.

Emma looks at him closely and answers, "Well, August's mother Cora isn't feeling well. I know the estate well enough to have been tasked with the job no one else here can fill."

"I suppose, I forget you were groomed to be the perfect little wife for August. I imagine that included being familiar with the estate."

Emma looks away for a brief second and answers, "Yes, I was groomed by Cora to be the perfect wife she thought her son would need. In the end, it didn't work out."

"I too know the feeling of rejection all too well. I went away on a business trip thinking on my return I would wed the woman I love, only to return to find out that the woman I love had given herself to another in marriage."

"She told you she would marry you?" Emma asks as she looks around to ensure no one is listening. "Are you finished with your tea, Mr. Jones?"

"Mr. Jones? Hmm, I like the sound of my name on your lips." He realizes his comment makes her uncomfortable and adds, "Sorry lass. I apologize for the improper comment. To answer your question, yes she did."

Emma smiles, rolls her eyes and gestures to his cup.

"I'm done."

"There is more I need to show you," Emma says.

Killian bites his bottom lip, holding back the comment that naturally wants to come out.

"August mentioned he met you as a young boy. Do you remember anything about your stay here at that time?" Emma asks.

"I wasn't here that long, love," he answers.

"Yet August cares for you deeply and sees you as a true friend," Emma says trying to guilt Killian. She hopes that reminding him of their childhood friendship will deter him from whatever plans he may have.

"Ah, perhaps he does."

Soon Killian is walking after Emma out of the house. She is pointing to different areas of the ranch. The estate consists of vast farmland and to fill the awkwardness as they walk along, they keep talking.

"How long were you here? I used to visit often and I don't remember seeing you."

"Hmm, I was here for maybe a couple of months. Once Mr. Booth passed his wife kicked me out. I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to August."

"Why would she kick you out, did you do something?" Emma asks and adds, "She has always been so generous, and I cannot believe she would just toss you out."

"Automatically you assume I did something? I was a child, I had lost my father. Mr. Booth generously gave me his last name and you spontaneously believe me to be at fault?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Emma starts as she sees Killian getting upset, "It is hard for me to believe from my experience with Cora, but if you say that's what happened, I believe you." Emma reaches to touch his hand as she says her apology.

Killian looks down at where they are connected and finds her touch soothing. "No need to apologize. Just like everyone else, Mrs. Booth never allowed me to forget I was nothing, all she saw me as was a simple charity case."

Emma is rubbing little circles on his hand, though she doesn't even know she is doing it. As they walk, they come across some of the workers huts and hear someone screaming in pain. They look at each other before hurrying to the door. They find a man bloodied, lying on a cot. Emma looks at Killian, her big green eyes tearing up at the sight. "We need to call the doctor," Emma says urgently.

Killian kneels next to the man. "He was beaten like an animal. These wounds are not older than a day."

Emma asks, "Who would do such a thing?"

Killian laughs as he is getting a rag wet and cleaning the blood from the man's body. "Who is in charge? Or can you not believe your perfect August could be responsible for this?"

"August is not a cruel man. Someone else must be responsible," Emma insists.

"People from your class, like August and Cora only see their workers as pawns, worthless and disposable."

"I know you believe I'm too sheltered and you are correct, but I do have my own opinions. Even though everyone has blood inside them, there are only a few that are more fortunate. Some people lack things that others have plenty of. Some have nothing, and deserve it, and those that have everything their heart's desire don't deserve it."

"Maybe heading to the main house now and getting a doctor out here would be more beneficial to the poor bloke than breaking your romanticized illusions of August Booth," Killian says as he grabs Emma by the arm and pulls her toward the door.

"I don't understand your obsession with Milah if you hold 'our' class in such low opinion," Emma says as she walks with him to the main house.

"Milah was my chance at a happy ending. Women want a man with money and power. No woman wants a man without a last name or financial stability to care for her. I have only one of the requirements. I can offer a comfortable life, not one in the league of Booth, but a nice life. The surname is my mother's. My father didn't see me worthy of his. But that is a long story," he says and adds, "too long for now."

Emma looks at him as she hurries to keep up with him. "I'm sorry," Emma says.

Killian slows down to look at Emma, she is not judging him for his misfortunes. He has no idea why he is sharing so much with her. "I have known Archie since I was young. He thinks it's my choice to not marry and to live my life as is. He doesn't understand that it is not only my decision. I ask you, what honorable woman wants to be saddled with a man like me? Don't you think I would love to marry and have a family? Milah accepted me as I am, and then she changed her mind. What she took from me no one can replace." Killian's jaw clenches as he speaks his troubles aloud.

"What did she take away from you?" Emma asks as the reach the main house.

"The same thing August took from you, hope."

Emma pauses for a second and calls out for the Booth's maid. "Enith, please go fetch Dr. Whale. There is an injured man in one of the worker huts." Emma smiles as she gives her order.

"Oh, I need to make sure it's alright with Mrs. Booth for me to leave," Enith says.

"Enith, the man is in bad shape. August gave instructions for our orders not to be questioned. Mrs. Booth is not feeling well, therefore you will follow our instructions or am I to inform August that you didn't follow his?" Emma's tone is firm, surprising even herself.

Enith glares at Emma and says, "I will leave to go get Dr. Whale."

He's in awe of Emma taking charge, and he tells her as much. "I'm impressed, Emma," Killian tells her in a soft voice filled with admiration and pride.

Emma looks at him and says, "I'm sorry. I should not have been so harsh with you the last time we met. You are not exactly what I expected. Did you know I shared a room at the convent with your friend, Tink? She thinks the world of you. To be honest, at first, I thought she was biased because of her obvious feelings for you, but now I see, there is more to you." Emma starts to walk away and says, "I'm going to get some supplies that may be useful when Dr. Whale arrives."

When she comes back with some clean rags, Killian is standing just outside the door waiting for the Doctor's arrival. He looks lost in thought. He must have heard her approach and turns to face her.

Emma joins him outside. "I need to make sure that your room is prepared. August wants you to be comfortable. He also mentioned that there is housing in the estate for the steward, but that he will take care of that in his return."

Killian smiles and looks intently at Emma as he says, "Of a gentleman, as you can see all I have are the clothes. But, I also want to tell you that if I'd had you, only becoming blind, deaf or an imbecile would I have left you for another woman, much less for a whore like your cousin."

Emma stares at Killian in disbelief as they wait outside for Enith and Dr. Whale.

Cora peers outside her window at the sound of voices. She notices the resemblance between Killian and her late husband. In a moment of panic, she rushes to her locked trunk, frantically struggling with the key she hides close to her heart and finally is able to open it. She digs until she finds what she is searching for, a letter. The same letter Brennan had written to Archie in hopes to acknowledge Killian as his first born son to be precise. She should have ridden herself of such damning evidence then. If it was to be found out now her son would have to share his inheritance with that bastard.

She knows there are still workers who knew Brennan, what if they notice the resemblance? She might need to force them into retirement. Sure she had heard rumors of Killian's good looks, but she had never been curious enough to see for herself. He truly has too much of his father in him, more than August. She is baffled how August could not see it? Then she remembers August hasn't seen Killian, Archie had made the arrangements. Her attention is drawn back to reality and the commotion outside.

They stand outside of the Booth main house while the doctor checks on the patient. Killian is watching Emma sway back and forth she is so nervous. The doctor had finally arrived and now they were waiting on his prognosis.

"The man was beaten badly, in addition, he has pneumonia and it has not been taken care of. If he makes it, it will be a miracle," Dr. Whale says as he hands Emma medication for the employee.

How could they treat their workers so poorly? "Thank you, I will make sure he takes it," Emma says confidently.

"Pneumonia is always dangerous and you have to take into consideration the poor physical state that he is in as well. If he makes it through the night it will be a good sign, but he will need much care," Doctor Whale says.

They head to the little hut where Emma administers the medicine to the ailing man.

"Emma, you have to know that there is a chance he may not make it," Killian tells her.

"I have faith he will," Emma says.

"If he makes it, it will not be because of divine intervention, it will be because of your care," Killian says as he holds Emma's hands within his. He slowly lifts her hands and places a soft kiss on each as he keeps his piercing eyes on her.

After showing Killian to his room, Emma is walking to her mother's room to wish her a good night and is stopped by Cora.

"Emma, I couldn't help notice that you spent all day with the pirate," Cora says.

Emma looks at Cora and responds, "I was only following August's instructions. He mentioned that you were not feeling well and for me to make sure Mr. Jones felt welcomed."

"I wonder how welcomed you make him feel. You two looked very cozy," Cora says and walks away.

Emma stares after the woman who had always shown such affection to her, and now her current attitude is the opposite.

Cora heads to Killian's room. She is assuming that there is much more to what is being said. She knocks loudly on his door.

Killian opens the door and is surprised to see Cora.

"What do you want in exchange to leave the grounds?" Cora asks.

Killian only smirks and responds, "I will not be leaving without what belongs to me."

Cora is stunned he knows he is the elder son of Brennan.

"I can have my husbands' last name reinstated as yours and money alongside a beautiful honorable bride," Cora says.

"I don't need your husband's surname or for you to find me a wife," Killian answers. He is confused by Cora's offer.

"Think about it, don't discard the idea," Cora says and walks out.

Killian stands dumbfounded. It is an interesting proposition. He could marry and accept the money. He would appear less threatening. Perhaps this could work for his benefit.

All Cora can think of is that she needs that bastard gone. Her son will not share his inheritance with that lowlife. She knows Emma still cares for her son. She will use that to push her to make the decision to protect August. Cora decides to apologize to Emma for her behavior and plant a little seed. She is not blind, she saw how Emma and Killian had interacted. She arrives at Emma's door and knocks softly.

"Darling girl, please forgive my attitude from earlier. I know it is not an excuse for my poor behavior, but it is not a secret that I'm not happy with the presence of Killian Jones in my home. I know for a fact that he is only here because he covets all that my son possesses. He will take everything that is within reach. If August was to know of his true mission here, I cannot imagine what would happen. All I wish is to find a way to protect the family. I even offered him some money among other things for him to take his leave. If only somehow, someone could find a way to protect us from whatever that man is up to. Sorry to bombard you with my concerns. Good night sweet girl."

Emma watches Cora leave her room and quickly comes to the conclusion that Cora must know of the prior relationship between Milah and Killian. What else could Killian want that August has?

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776

#teamhook SavageHeart #Captain Swan #cs ff #CS Crew #CS Mafia

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the67impalaonbakerstreet · 5 years

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Not so Strange or Unusual Part 7

I’m sorry for the delay. My mini-mester started and my class load doubled. Special thanks to @meangirlsx for being an awesome co-author. Check out her blog. She’s a great writer.

We decided to make the Deetz/Maitland into a haunted house three days ago. Since then, Beetlejuice had taken over the place with clones in construction hats. I loved getting an eyeful cute guys in uniform, but not living with thirty at once. This morning to get coffee, I had to walk through tarps and sidestep an active work zone. It was getting out of hand. Between the noise and too many people, my nerves were fraying.

“Babes!”, the Ghost with the Most waved from the top of the stairs. I pretended to ignore him. I told him I had to get over him tricking Lydia into marrying him, but he didn’t seem to get that I needed some space from him. Even if seeing his face meant delightful butterflies in my stomach.

“Ah, come on Y/n. How long are you going to ignore me? I’m being a good demon! No false shrunken heads in the dining room.” He gestured to the one finished area of the house. It reminded of the scene from Harry Potter with the house elf heads on the staircase. It looked great. But I wasn’t going to tell him that yet.

I finished my coffee as he went on and on about what he was planning and placed my mug on a passing two by four beam carried by some clones. I had to admit, Beetlejuice was working hard to make over the place. I don’t know how he did it, but there was a tunnel being constructed under the basement and leading out to the cemetery as our exit. Everywhere in every room, except for the bedrooms, was a project waiting to be signed off by me or Lydia.

Speaking of, “Lyds!”, I shouted up the stairs. I heard a thump of my friend falling out of her bed and onto the floor. I heard Beej cackle beside me, and I fought to keep a smile from splitting across my face. I love the sound of his laugh. It’s dry and crackly and- what was I thinking about?

Deetz stumbled down the steps and looked ready to murder me. “You better have a good reason to wake me up, Y/n. I didn’t fall asleep until 3 this morning!” She shot an accusing glare that would’ve killed the Ghost with the Most if he wasn’t already dead.

“I have the best reason. We need costumes. Do you think Barbara could help us whip something up with her ghost powers? I love Adam, but his fashion sense leave much to be desired,” I said. Beetlejuice scowled when I mentioned loving Adam. I thought I could feel waves of jealously coming from him, but that was probably wishful thinking. ‘Wait. Not wishful thinking, no. We do not like the dead guy.’ I had to chide myself.

Lydia screwed up her face thinking. “I don’t know. Ghost power can do a lot, but I’ve never thought about illusion clothing. Maybe?”

The stripped demon snorted and looked up from his blueprints. “That’s a no go babes. Maybe I could do something like that if you asked me, but no regular haunter can. Takes too much energy.”

“Great. There goes my matching vampire idea. We could’ve turned into bats or something,” I pouted. A second too late, I realized I acknowledged Beetlejuice’s presence by answering him. He was utterly beaming when I peaked at him from under my lashes.

Deetz saw my look of disappointment and said, “There’s a Spirit Halloween downtown. You could get us something there. Just nothing to Delia-ish. I’m going back to bed now.” With that she twisted around the maze of building materials, and climbed the stairs,

“So when we going Babes? I’ve never heard of this ‘Spirit’ place. Is it run by breathers?” He was getting excited and started bouncing on the balls of his feet. I didn’t repeat my mistake a second time and left him to get ready to venture in public. “Do you need to shower? I can get Ramon to takeover if you need help,” he called behind me. I smiled a his comment knowing he couldn’t see as I jogged up the stairs.

Beetlejuice’s pov

Y/n took about half an hour to get ready. I don’t understand why they’d keep me waiting for our date. I thought they looked great in pjs and their hair in a tangled mess. While they were getting ready, I finished up a few minor things and tracked down Ramon. Ramon was head clone. He was who I sent to scare people when I didn’t want to, which isn’t all that often.

“Boss Man! Whatcha need? Does the kitchen need more blood?” he called out to me. All my clones look different, but Ramon could be my understudy. I styled him just so when I made him 600 years ago. “No. Everything’s coming along great. I just need you to take over for an hour while Y/n and I go on our date.”

“Are they talking to you again?”

I pushed my worry away. They hadn’t really but they acknowledged my presence this morning, so I was making progress. “You know me Ramon. No one can resist the Ghost with the Most.” He smiled and took the blueprints from me with a wink.

I heard their footfalls on the steps and poofed into their car just in case they forgot to come and get me before heading out. When they got there, they didn’t smile at me or throw me a wink or anything. I did my best to keep my disappointment from my face. They were back to ignoring me.

We drove in silence to this Spirit Halloween. It looked like any other strip mall store from the outside, so I had no real idea why Lydia would recommend this place. “Babes, want to go somewhere else? I don’t think you’ll find a good costume here,” I asked Y/n. They looked like they were repressing a grin as they got out of their BMW.

We strolled into the automatic doors and my undead breathing stopped. There was a boat step-up lined with a large assortment of scary statues. Costumes of anything anyone could imagine lined the outer walls. There was a walk through tunnel I wanted to drag Y/n into with me. She'd have an excuse to jump into my arms like they really wanted to.

My date made a beeline for the back of the amazing shop where I saw a picture of a gothic vampire. Of course, it wasn’t accurate at all. Vampires hate lace. They were more of a linen robe people. Sensitive skin and all. I floated along to catch up with them, and passed in front a bloody clown statue.

“I love hugs!” a demonic voice said as a a pair of arms grabbed at me. I let loose a scream of curses and jumped back as fast as my undead body would allow. I watched as the clown moved back into its unassuming position as I heard laughter ring out from the vampire costumes. After I recovered from my shock of being scared myself, I joined in on the laughter. I was grabbing my sides before I could stop.

“Babes! Babes! Did you know these things could do move?!?! That was awesome!” I called out to Y/n over my shoulder without taking my eyes of the amazing statues. Breathers impressed me. They use to cower from anything they feared, now they built things like these on purpose for the pure thrill of it. I spent the next half hour setting off every machine in the store. I could see normal humans looking baffled as they went off in a row without seeing anyone in front of them.

Y/n was still looking at the vampire outfits when I went to them. I saw they were standing beside a much more interesting selection of clothing. You piece together a look out of short skirts, tight corsets, fishnet stocking, and booty shorts. “You should turn your head. I think you’d look much better in something like this,” I said as I held up a pair of skintight booty shorts in their size.

Their eyes flicked over to what I was holding, but other than turning an adorable shade of red, they still didn’t acknowledge me. I felt crushing disappointment and sorrow claw their way around my heart. I just wanted nothing more than for them to smile at me like they did before. Just one word directed at me on purpose. Something so I wouldn’t feel so invisible to them again.

I caught my reflection on a staff on the very top shelf. My hair was turning blue and they didn’t seem to care. I floated off to stand at the end of the aisle and just watched them browse for a minute.

They had two similar black lace outfits when their eyes fell on the staff I caught my reflection on. They reached for it and found they couldn’t reach it. They stood on their tiptoes and still couldn’t reach it. They set down the costumes and jumped to get it to no avail. As amusing as watching them struggle was, I didn’t want the to get hurt. “Babes, all you gotta do is ask. I’ll float up and grab it for you.”

They continued to ignore me and tried the jumping thing again. I was no longer sad that they were ignoring me, I was getting mad. I understood I lost their trust, but now they were just being rude. I bumped into the display and knocked the staff to the floor. If they were determined to act like a child, I’d be the bigger person for once.

Y/n gingerly picked up the staff and turned it over thoughtfully in their hands. “Thank you Beetlejuice.” They then left in a rush to pay for the costumes and left me standing there in shock.

‘They said my name. I didn’t imagine it. They talked to me!’ I thought to myself as a large grin spread across my face and my hair returned to its normal green.I floated over to them as they walked out of the store with bags in hand.

”You’re welcome babes,” I whispered in their ear as they unlocked the car. I saw a blush spread over their face and my grin grew more. Oh, yeah. They liked me. They were talking to me again. This was the happiest I’d been in days.

“Are you getting in or not Beetlejuice?” They asked as they held open the passenger door for me. “As long as I can DJ. Do you have any wailing ghoul sounds?” That earned me a playful eye roll. The next few days were going to be awesome.

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice

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followedbyraven · 4 years

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About 15 years ago, from the very first episode, I got hooked up on a new tv show, “Supernatural”. It was amasing!

It was a kind of magic that: - grips you and doesn’t let go; - follows you and stays on your mind for hours; - walks side by side through the years, sometimes becoming your shadow, sometimes wandering so far away that what is left is only a glimpse on the horizon of life.

After being for many years a part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom and finding some kind of uneasy closure when Angel: the Series concluded I thought I swore the fandom life for good. I was young and somewhat naive, and didn’t understand the simple truth: once you step into this river - you will keep coming for more.

Initially following the road that the Winchester brothers took in the first three seasons I was what is called a general audience. Ok, a bit more, cause I’ve long ago lost count how many times I watched each and every episode of seasons 1-3 during just that period.

It was indeed MAGIC! Then came hellatus between 3rd and 4th seasons and I have to be honest, my interest in SPN was by that time slowly slipping away. I was incredibly busy at work, living life on the road, barely at home, working sometimes 14-16 hours a day, and loving every single moment of that. It was hard but I treasure memories of those times, despite terribly missing my husband, and comfort of home, and loved ones. Also it was almost impossible to keep up with SPN airing schedule. Not to mention that it was already some kind of miracle that I was almost religiously following SPN for three years. I do follow other TV shows but don’t get so attached. I love parings, OTPs, to write and read fanfiction, to admire the talent of fanart creators and ingeniousness of meta-writers... but it takes two to tango, in other words - I need an OTP to properly function in the fandom. I wasn’t into any of the brothers and was a strictly het!shipper; I used to write slash for friends as a gift or commission but wasn’t really interested in it. Plus I’m One Fandom at a time, one OTP at a time kind of shipper, I don’t multitask when it comes to fandom life. So yeah, for SPN I was a general audience for 3 years until an ruffled angel broke through the barn doors, got knifed in the heart as some kinky way of thanks for the save from Hell, flashed Dean some shadow wings and... It was amazing and it was awesome, and it was magic. Again. Just like that day I’ve watched SPN 1x01 for the very first time.

Jack is a baby of the family. I wasn’t sure about this character and was afraid that I wouldn’t like him. So much suspense was build around his first appearance, so much negativity. But I was worried for nothing. He is a sweetheart and a darling, great addition to the story and to the show, he can be soft, naive and uncertain, but also fierce and protective of people he sees as part of a family. I was a complete “feels, feels, so many feels” from the first episode he appeared in. I still have half of season 14 and the rest of season 15 to catch up, but so far I like what I see. Sam. I like Sam a lot and he means a lot to me and to a relationship I have with my brother. I may not often mention him but I treasure this character and admire him. I look at him for understanding, when me and my little brother, who is a head taller than me by now, can’t find a common ground. Sam taught me when I need to take a step back from heated discussion, evaluate my bro’s side of the argument once more, just simply understand and admit the very fact that some things I will never get, not really, not fully, but if this is his, my little brother’s, thing, I have to respect that and give him a much needed space. In the end it is his business, and his life, and it is he who has to live it and to have a control over it. Dean. I can’t get enough of Dean and I respect him. I’m not attracted to him, never was, just not my type, i guess, but to me he is that dear friend that gets it. Just simply GETS IT! He is an older brother just like I’m an older sister. And through the years, through the moments when I’m again and again completely baffled by my bro’s attics and can’t come with an appropriate response, one thought always comes to my mind: What would Dean do? So yeah, 15 years of “what would Dean do” and that character feels like one of my best friends and supporters. He gets it - the straggle between the instinct to protect and the need to let go, make own way, through mistakes and hardships. Ready to offer support but not choking my babybro with it.

Cas. I adore Castiel, simply adore him. He is my favourite after all. But what is more important, I get inspiration and that extra infusion of strength from this character. I got a gift of better understanding my brother from Sam, and a possible course of action, a kind of battle plan, from Dean, but Castiel helps me to be myself, to enjoy life even when all I want is to crumble and weep. From him I got: If he could do it, so can I. This is something unique, what I couldn’t receive from another human being, real or imagined, because I also often feel like an alien being. I don’t have a mental illness but I did experience a trauma when I was but a small child. And this kind of guano never fully goes away, never truly leaves mind. I lack a deeper understanding of a lot of simple things that many people take for granted, there are days when it feels like I don’t have a strength in me to step over the threshold into the street (but I still do it every day), and I still often stumble through the words to make a simple purchase at the supermarket (even after 10 years of going to the same store), and I feel disconnected from the world at large. I’m uncomfortable in the crowd and I’m that awkward weirdo at the party sitting al alone in the corner.

Don’t get me wrong, I live a normal and fulfilling live, you may meet me on the street, in the crowd, shopping, smiling and chatting with friends (smile on my lips and easy going attitude), driving car, stepping on the train, I may even live next to you or in the same city. And you’ll never guess that despite the fact that smile on my lips is real (I am happy to be in this world, be a part of it), there is pain in my shoulders because I can’t relax them, and I feel lightheaded, and the world is slightly spinning and blurry from an effort to simply do what comes so natural to a lot of others - just walk on the street, just live my life, just be in this world.

Many years ago I gave myself a promise: to get up everyday with a smile. No matter what, I always start my day with a smile. It’s a first thing I do when I open my eyes. Over the time it became a second nature. That little extra drop of good mood before morning tea comes automatically through no effort at all. During the day that small infusion of happiness may grow into a true joy or it may slowly fade away. And it’s that second scenario when I remember that if an alien being could do it - find inner strength to go on through high and low, to navigate the strange world of human beings... Well, I am human and simply because of my own nature, from the get go, I already have it much easier than him, this fictional character which slowly managed to mean so much to me.

Overshare much? Maybe. Actually, for sure. My apologies to all who is not comfortable with such kind of openness. I don’t feel that it is a right time and I am in the right mood to talk about my OTP, so I will leave it for another time when I have an urge to explode into a massive firework of feels and words.

But this is my tribute to Supernatural and to all people who brought these amazing, wonderful, beloved characters to life, gave them shape and form: the cast, the crew, the team of writers, everyone involved on every step of the road. 15 years, people! This is a big slice of my life, of anyone’s life. This is my thanks, and my love, and my gratitude. I’ve never been to convention, never met anyone of them and most likely never will, but I needed to give form to what I feel. Am I sad that SPN is almost over? Sure, I will cry a river when the final episode arrives! But I understand that everything eventually comes to an end. It was a beautiful run but I respect their decision and stand by it. And I already know what I want for Christmas or as a birthday gift when a full 15 (or is it 16 now with such a long corona-hiatus between already aired and still in production episodes?) season boxset hits the stores (Blue-Ray, pretty please, with as much extras and bonus materials as possible)

P.S. But you know whom I also want to thank and hug, and shower with love? All my fandom mates, known to me and total strangers, all those incredibly talented, wonderful, amazing people who write fanfiction, create art, express their love for the show through any possible creative outlet. No matter the stan, no matter the ship, over the years I’ve met truly great, kind, friendly and positive people in every wing of the fandom. YOU ARE AWESOME!

#Castiel #Destiel #Misha Collins #Cas!girl spn tribute #The all have a special place in my heart #SPN team free will

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simplywylan · 5 years

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Special Treatment

He couldn't believe it.

Three weeks.

Three whole weeks he'd been learning and practicing for this damn surgery and now he was off of it, all because Jo asked to be on it? Levi knew it was somewhat ridiculous to be angry but he was. This surgery would have been a massive stepping stone for him in his career and now here he was, sat in one of the on-call rooms, study books placed out in front of him.

A rotationplasty is not something that happens too often and the fact that he had the incredible opportunity to scrub in on it when none of the other interns did was huge. In all too quick of a moment, it had been ripped away from him. However, that wasn't what hurt the most about the whole situation. What hurt most is that Jo made that face, subtly mentioning how Levi was only on the surgery because of 'special treatment', obviously hinting towards being Nico's boyfriend. What hurt even more was that Nico just stood there and didn't say anything. He didn't deny it, didn't try and fight to keep Levi on the surgery. He knew how excited Levi was for this surgery and still did nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That was what Levi was most vexed about.

He hadn't heard from Nico since. Honestly, he didn't want to. He was mad. Real mad. If he saw Nico now, he didn't know how he would react. Would he snap? Would he just ignore him and hope he went away? Would he act as if nothing had happened? They were still on rough terms from that morning, which only made the situation a bit more intense.

Levi let out a sigh as he flipped the page of the book that was open in front of him, tapping the pen in his other hand against the table as his eyes skimmed through the words. He wrote a couple important, keywords down, hoping it would help him memorize them. He still had exams he needed to do and he planned on passing them.

As he went to write down another thing, his phone buzzed on the table next to him. It was a text from his mother, asking if he was okay. He half-heartedly smiled to himself as he picked up his phone and swiftly texted her back, letting her know that his day had just been a bit hectic. At least he'd managed to scrub in on some sort of surgery earlier. That memory of the man coughing up a massive blood clot was something he wouldn't forget. Ever.

Just as he pressed send, the door of the on-call room opened. Levi's attention automatically went to the door, only to see Nico standing there, almost shocked to see Levi. With a heavy sigh, Levi turned his attention back to his books, picking his pen back up to scribble down some more notes. The door clicked shut behind Nico as he entered, sitting himself down opposite Levi. Even so, Levi kept his focus on his notes, not really wanting to argue with Nico right now. He didn't need the added stress.

"Hey," Nico began, trying to capture Levi's attention. Much to his dismay, Levi didn't look up. "What are you doing?"

"Studying," Levi said, matter-of-factly, like it wasn't completely obvious what he was doing.

"Are you okay?" Nico asked, resting his arms on the table, causing it to shift slightly. It ended up making Levi mess up his notes. They were going so well.

"I'm fine," He spoke through gritted teeth, almost slamming his pen down on the table as he sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. "What?"

"You obviously aren't okay, considering that you keep snapping at me." Nico shook his head a little, letting out a breathy laugh. He couldn't believe that Levi was acting in such a manner. He could be a real drama queen sometimes. The sass Levi possessed was incredible.

"What, are you some sort of psychiatrist now?" Levi finally moved his gaze to look at Nico, as much as he didn't want to.

"Can you stop acting like such a drama queen?" Nico quipped. Levi scoffed at his words.

"I have every right to be pissed right now, Nico."

"Listen, about the surgery-"

"No, drop it. I'm not talking about this right now." Levi stopped him before he could say anything else. Levi wasn't about to let this situation pass over like it was nothing. The surgery was something extremely important to him and he got kicked off of it like it was nothing.

Nico took in a deep breath as he stood from the chair, the legs of it scraping against the floor with a screech. The sound made Levi cringe. "I couldn't have said anything that would have kept you on that surgery!"

"Yes, you could have!" Levi argued back, also standing up from his chair. He stood up with so much force that the chair flew back and landed against the floor with a loud thud. He made his way around the table so he could stand in front of Nico. "I worked tirelessly for three weeks to help assist on that surgery, you stood by me and helped me every step of the way!"

"Levi, keep your voice-"

"No, let me speak! That surgery was a massive deal for me. It was a huge stepping stone for my career as a surgeon. I didn't get on that surgery just because of you. I got on that surgery because I worked hard and I proved that I could do it. I didn't get on that surgery because of 'special treatment', or whatever. I missed out on a huge opportunity today, all because you didn't stand up for me."

"Woah, you're blaming this on me now?" Nico almost seemed to laugh, tearing his gaze from Levi to take a moment to compose himself. There was no way that it was Nico's fault.

"Yeah, I'm blaming you. Why didn't you say something, Nico? You knew how much I wanted this and you just let it slip away from me." Levi let out a shaky breath as he finished, wrapping his arms around his stomach, his expression melting into something that resembled hurt.

"I had no power to say anything, Levi. It was purely Link and Jackson's decision to make." Nico explained, taking a step towards Levi, in hopes that he would be able to comfort him.

"I could have proven that I am more than what people think of me. I could have proven that I could do it. You had just as much say as Link or Jackson in that situation. That surgery could have actually really helped me to progress, to learn and see what happens in situations like that. You didn't say anything because you didn't want me in that room, did you?" Levi's brows furrowed together, the very thought of Nico not saying anything purely because of their little argument earlier that morning made his stomach twist. It felt awful.

"No, Levi. Why would you even think that?" Nico couldn't believe Levi had even thought of such a thing.

"It doesn't really matter now, does it? The surgery is done and over with. Listen, I have uh... Stuff, to do. I'll speak to you later. I just want to be alone right now." Levi mentioned, his voice low as he spoke, almost a whisper. Nico let out a sigh as he nodded, realizing he wasn't going to get anything else out of Levi.

Just a few moments later and Nico had left, leaving Levi to tidy up his study notes before he had to head back out to check on his patients.

The rest of the day had passed in a blur. Before he really knew what was happening, he was rushing after Nico, telling him that he loved him. Yes, he had really just told Nico that he loved him. Which was very, very true. Levi wasn't going to deny it. There was no way he could.

Levi loved Nico with all his heart, which was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. It was a completely new feeling for Levi to have to experience for the first time. The nerves that ran through his body when he finally uttered those three words to Nico were almost enough to stop him from saying it.

Now, he was cuddled up with Nico, watching the end of a movie together. It had been an eventful day full of many conflicting emotions that Levi couldn't quite fully begin to understand. However, even though it seemed that the arguments of that day had been long forgotten, the lingering feeling of hurt had stayed deep within Levi.

"I don't get these kinds of movies," Nico sighed, cocking his head a little to the side as he watched the screen. "The dogs don't even talk and yet we seem to understand everything they want to say. They don't even really have a way of showing emotion other than wagging their tail or bearing their teeth. It's so strange."

"Do you really have to analyze every movie we watch?" Levi laughed a little, shifting himself a little so he could look up at Nico. Nico lifted his shoulder's in a slight shrug.

"It just baffles me," Nico commented, eyes still locked onto the movie. Levi grinned to himself, taking a moment to admire the man he loved so dearly.

"Oh, so a complicated surgery doesn't stump you, but understanding animals emotions does? Nico Kim, you sure are a weird man." Levi joked, sitting up from where he been cuddled into Nico's side. Nico finally tore his gaze away from the screen to look at Levi, who was stretching his arms above his head, his muscles sore from having been working all day.

"You're not still mad about the surgery, are you?" Nico raised a brow, hoping that Levi wasn't about to bring it up again.

When Levi was finally done stretching, he looked at Nico, a tired grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He shook his head slightly, letting out a short sigh. "No, I don't think I am. There will be other opportunities for me. I got to save a man's life today, and potentially save his daughters too."

"I heard about that," Nico shifted in his seat so he could face Levi a little more. "Bailey mentioned how proud she was of you. You saved a life today, Levi. I just turned someone's ankle into a knee."

"I guess you're right." Levi couldn't hide the bright smile that spread across his lips. He really had saved a life today. Two, potentially. Maybe missing out on the rotationplasty wasn't such a bad thing after all?

"So, I think you may have won the surgery lottery today. I can't believe my boyfriend is a life-saver." A cheeky grin tugged at Nico's lips as he spoke. Levi let out a whine, hiding his face in his hands to hide the fact he was blushing.

"Why do you have to be so cheesy all the time?" Levi removed his hands from his face, resting them in his lap as he stared at Nico, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Nico let out a low chuckle, a sense of pride washing over him. He always enjoyed teasing Levi. His reactions never failed to amuse Nico.

"I like seeing you blush. You're really adorable when you react the way you do."

"Oh, shut up." Levi quipped, lowering his head to hide the smile gracing his face.

Nico watched on in awe of Levi, unable to comprehend how beautiful he truly was. Nico sat himself up, reaching out to take Levi's hands in his own, stroking his thumb across the back of Levi's hand softly. Levi looked up at Nico, his cheeks still somewhat flushed a light shade of pink. "I love you. So, so much. You truly are incredible, Levi Schmitt."

"I love you, too," Levi muttered back, giving Nico's hands a subtle squeeze as he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, pressing his lips against Nico's in a soft, tender kiss. Nico dropped Levi's hands, his hands coming up to rest against Levi's neck, ever so slightly pulling him in closer. His thumb grazed against Levi's cheek as they kissed, Levi's hands coming to rest against Nico's waist.

At the end of the day, yes, Levi was upset he didn't get to scrub in on the surgery he'd waited weeks for. But he wouldn't trade-in this moment with Nico for anything else in the entire world.

#schmico #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy #levi schmitt #nico kim #drabble #request #schmico drabble #levi x nico #levi schmitt x nico kim #i hope this is okay my dude #it's kinda really bad but okay #schmoody writes

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