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disasterofastory · 3 years

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Secret (Benedict B. x Reader)

Secret Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Warnings: none

Y/N and Benedict Bridgerton meet two times.

The pastel-colored walls are decorated with green plants and white flowers. The floor under you is freshly polished, and the chandelier above you is grand and lustrous. The slowly burning candles’ flames dance in rhythm with the guests. There is a huge painting not far from the orchestra about somebody who is probably already dead. You stare at the dead man’s painted eyes for who knows how long. The music and the chatter mixed around you. You feel the cold wall behind you, and one of the lush plants tickles your bare arm as you move closer to hide from everybody. The corset around you is too tight, and the dress you wear is too flowery for your liking. Of course, you are still luckier than poor Penelope in her yellow dress. The mentioned girl looks at you from the other side of the ballroom with a sympathetic expression. You smile at her before you go back, staring at the painting on the wall.

Who is he? Does it matter? Probably not.

A grip on your arm wakes you up from your thoughts. You feel the pull as your mother tries to make you follow her. Her glove on your skin is silky in contrast with her tense voice.

“You will never get married if you act like a plant,” she says to you, looking back at your disinterested form.

“Where are you going?” You ask her, trying to stop her without success.

“It’s time for you to act like a proper lady,” she says to you, not answering your question. You puff at her intentions. You still have time. If it were up to you, you would have nothing but time.

You sigh again, looking up at the painting, and before you know, your mother stops in her tracks, and you almost bump into her back. You still stare at the unknown man on the wall as if he could help you. His painted eyes follow you as you move behind your mother. The stern expression on his face is constant and detailed.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Your mother greets the tall man who turns around to look at you two.

His brown hair is styled messily, and his smile is polite but not honest.

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Bridgerton,” your mother says, pulling on your arm, so you stand next to her. “I thought it’s time to introduce my daughter,” she continues without shame.

“Miss,” he says, turning to you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you answer while he grabs your hand softly to kiss your knuckles. Your throat is tight, and your smile is frozen in your face by discomfort. You feel like a cow on sale at the market.

Your mother leaves with a lame excuse, and you stay with the tall Bridgerton.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment. “My mother…”

“Ambitious,” he ends your sentence, and you smile at him apologetically. “If it comforts you, my mother probably already plans our wedding,” he continues, glancing at his mother, who watches you with a joyful smile.

The silence becomes awkward between you two while the room around you is still noisy and cheerful.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” you tell him after a while, glancing up at the painting then back to the man before you. “I go and… hide.”

Benedict laughs at your confession.

“Before you go,” he says, reaching out to you. “I think our mothers would be calmer after a dance,” he offers, and thinking through his words, you accept his hand.

The music becomes slow as you move into the man’s embrace. His touch is soft but confident.

The painted man follows your steps as you dance around with the second son of Lord Bridgerton.

You meet Benedict Bridgerton in different circumstances the next time.

Instead of a flowery, uncomfortable ball gown, you wear a simple, light dress without gloves and heavy, shiny jewelry. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, and your hands are black from the coal between your fingers.

You breathe in the cigars’ typical smell as you lean closer to the canvas before you. You look up at the naked women to see their shadowed bodies at the center of the room.

When you first come here, you were red as a tomato. You felt ashamed, and you couldn’t draw because of the awkwardness. You never saw so much bare skin besides yours, and you needed much more sessions with Mr. Granville’s humorous company to feel comfortable enough to focus on your art. Since then, the studio became your safe place. You come here when the ton becomes too much, and you need space. You know the others keep your secret about your desire to draw, and you can drink and smoke without prying, judging eyes on you. You are aware, if your scandalous hobby comes to light one day, you will be ruined, and you risk your family’s name every time you come here, but until then, you just enjoy these hours among similarly interested people like you.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Somebody says your name with clear surprise in his voice.

You look up from your draw to see Benedict Bridgerton looking down on your sitting form.

“Mr. Briderton,” you greet him with a polite smile. Your voice is much lighter and friendlier than the last time you met him. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing,” he says, sitting down behind a blank canvas next to you.

“And I would be happy if it would remain between us.”

“Of course, Miss,” he nods with a half-smile.

“You can call me Y/N, if you want,” you tell him, reaching out one of your coal-covered hands for a shake.

In different circumstances, your action would be rude, but here, in Mr. Granville’s studio, the rules are insignificant. You can be equal here and not just a woman who has to marry and bear children.

“Benedict,” he introduces himself, accepting your hand for a gentle shake.

After the short encounter, both of you turn back to your canvases to start or continue your drawings.

The silence between you is comfortable. Sometimes Benedict turns to you for advice, and you ask his opinion about your work. There are times when he asks you something personal, and you question him about her sister’s debut. He tells you something funny, or he laughs at your improper comments on something.

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you sigh. “Before my mama starts to search for me.”

“Let me escort you home,” Benedict says, standing up from his seat. He seems like an enthusiastic child who found a new friend, and you almost laugh at his boyish grin.

“I would like that,” you nod, accepting his arm as you walk out of the warm night to get a carriage.

For long minutes you just sit in front of each other, looking out of the dark streets. The carriage moves slowly with you in it. You hear the horses’ hooves rhythmic steps on the streets, getting closer and closer to the familiar house you live in.

“I would like to see you more,” he says, breaking the pleasant silence.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton,” you answer with a cheeky smile as you stand up to get out after the horses stop.

Before you close the door, you smile at each other one last time like two kids who have a big, exciting secret you have to hide from the world.

#benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #x reader

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dadoroki · 4 years

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Reminder [2]

Dabi x F!Reader x Hawks

Warnings: violence, fluff, swearing

Description: After many years, a familiar face decides to make an unexpected visit at your house before your date with Hawks.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“Hey, you’re the kid that almost died right? I’m Keigo. But they want us to use our hero names so I’m Hawks. But call me Keigo when they’re not around. You’re actually really pretty.”

Boy, did this kid talk a lot. Everyday he’d come up to you, blabbering about some unimportant thing that you had no interest in. One day, something Keigo said had actually caught your attention. “Yo, so I heard there’s gonna be some new kid but he’s not gonna stay here. He’s only here for ‘extra’ training cause his dad teaches him...”

His voice began to trail away from existence as you were met in your own world. This was the first time you’d be meeting another kid who hopefully wasn’t the bland bunch around you, aside from Keigo of course. Curiosity started to fill your mind, excitement slowly rising as you counted down the days.

And here he was, standing right next to his famed father, Endevour. The boy was shy and avoided eye contact with you and the talkative kid beside you. You shamelessly gawked at the boy while Keigo jumped in joy, seeing his favourite hero infront of him.

You were too young, too naive to know what love was. But in that moment, that’s what you thought you felt. Your stomach was filled with butterflies. The boy was like a dream and you swore he looked like a prince in shining armor.

Your confidence rose, walking up to the boy and forcing him to look you in the eyes. Your little hands reached for his and held them tightly. “Hi! You must be Touya. I’m Y/N. You’re my boyfriend now.” Even at that age, you were a flirt. Maybe a little too bold but you still had much to learn.

Touya became flustered, his small cheeks blushing pink. He began to stutter but was interrupted by Keigo ripping your hands apart.

“Hey! You never said that to me!”

You were too distracted, admiring the new boy and that only made Keigo grow more jealous.

“Y/N, pay attention to me!”

“Y/N!”

Your focus went back to Hawks’s irked voice. These days, you couldn’t help but think back to when times were easier. Times where you didn’t have to care about your image, being able to live life freely.

“Yeah, sorry. What were you saying, Keigo?” You dried your hair, exiting the bathroom with nothing but a red robe tied around your body. You struggled to keep your phone between your cheek and shoulder as the man chattered his life away.

Hawks had dialed you to discuss your upcoming “date”. After initiating the hero plan against the villains, Hawks’s heroic face had been plastered on multiple cover pages of magazines, newspapers, and news outlets. The minute they came out published, Hawks had spammed you with multiple calls and messages to rub it in your face, reminding you of the public bet you lost. Unfortunately for you, you always kept your word.

“Yeah, I know.” You reassured the winged-hero, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You made your way to the kitchen, placing your phone and towel on the counter and snatching a bag of chips from the pantry. Sensing a presence within you, your movement came to a cautious halt. You didn’t spare a glance at the figure sitting on your living room couch, already knowing who it was. “Give me a second, Keigo.”

The good thing about Hawks was that he could always sense when something was off. He heard your sudden switch in tone and didn’t question you, muting himself but still listening to your line. You tossed your bag of chips back to it’s original place, walking around the kitchen island.

Reaching up the cupboard, you got two glasses and a half empty bottle of red wine, making your way to the shaded man. The room was dark with the dim lamp barely making him visible to the eye. “You know, it’s funny. I didn’t even recognize you.” You placed the two shiny glasses on the table and poured him and yourself a drink.

You sat on the opposite side and crossed your legs. When you first encountered Dabi, you didn’t really care much for him. But the more you examined his face, the more it felt familiar, even with the burns and staples. “How could I even forget you or those bright cyan eyes?” He didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on nothing but you.

The lack of communication caused you to pout. Being greeted with open arms was what you expected but this was far from it. You took a sip of your red wine and twirled the glass in a circle, watching it spin like ocean waves. “Not gonna talk? Fine.”

You placed your glass next to his untouched one and repositioned yourself to lean closer to him. “So you side with the villains now, hm?”

Dabi concentrated on your words that were faint in a whisper, barely even audible.

“What would your father say about that, Touya?”

The mention of Endevour sparked the memory of a buried past and ignited a flame filled with hatred in him. He quickly pushed himself up, throwing an immense amount of flame at you. But you knew him too well. You were quick to sense his move and you forced upon a huge gust of wind, ricocheting the fire back to him.

From the other line, Hawks could hear the loud chaos. “Y/N, is everything ok? What’s happening?” He couldn’t figure out what you were saying earlier, as the whole conversation was mumbled.

Smoke was everywhere and you struggled to keep your eyes opened. “Yeah, I’m fine...” You coughed and rapidly blinked to keep the toxic gas from entering your eyes. A huge hole in your living room wall was newly formed with no Dabi to be found. So much for moving in. “But my house isn’t.”

You could say your date started early. Hawks had offered you a place in his house to stay while your’s was under construction. Being the gentleman he was, he offered you his room and that he’d sleep on the couch. But of course, he originally insisted on sleeping in the same bed. He would pester you from time to time, asking what happened and you never told him.

The day of your date, you walked the busy streets of Musutafu together. As expected, many fans surrounded you both and bombarded with questions. Hawks had held a conversation with you while impressively aiding civilians in need of help.

“You just love to show off, don’t you?”

“Can’t help it, babe. It’s my specialty and when we’re officially together, I’ll be sure to show you off too.”

A young boy rushed towards you, tugging on your black cape. “Storm! Storm! I’m a huge fan! Can I please get a picture?!” You crouched to match the same level as the kid. “Of course!”

His mother thanked you as you squeezed the boy in a tight hug, kissing his cute chubby cheek. He giggled in happiness and his mom snapped the picture. Hawks walked up to the kid, teasingly patting his head. “Woah now, kiddo. Don’t go stealing my lady now, ya’ hear?”

Hawks was immediately pulled away by you, as you thanked the fans and left in a hurry. “I can never do anything without you being jealous. Don’t you get enough attention?” He smiled and held the restaurant door open, waiting for you to get inside. “It only matters when the attention comes from you.”

The two of you were guided to your table with Hawks on his best behaviour, making sure to pull out the chair for you. They brought out the yakitori and you both conversated about just everything and honestly, you really enjoyed talking to him.

“Oh, if you aren’t gonna have anymore, can I have it?” Hawks asked, pointing at the last chicken skewers. You nodded and watched him gladly take it. “I just have no self-control when it comes to the things I want.” He took a bite and smirked at you. “You should know by now.”

Since when did Hawks become good at flirting? From the beginning, he knew damn well that he wanted you but it was a struggle. It was a struggle to even get you interested in him and now, he finally had the girl of his dreams on a date with him. Hawks was found attractive by many. He could have any girl in the world but none could compare to you.

“Oh, that reminds me. I almost forgot!” His eyes popped out in realization and he dug into his baggy pants, pulling out a small white box and handing it to you. You stared at the box and he began to grow impatient. “What are you waiting for? Open it.”

You removed the lid of the box, revealing a silver tiara-shaped ring. You were in awe and slid it on your ring finger. Hawks smiled in joy, happy that you loved the gift. The ring was beautiful and you couldn’t help but move your hand around, watching the ring sparkle in every direction you went. “Hawks, this is beautiful.”

He smirked and crossed his arms. “I know. That’s because I chose it.” You laughed and admired the shiny ring. It wasn’t a surprise that he chose a crown-shaped ring because he always saw you as a princess. “And don’t worry...” He continued. “One day, I’ll replace that promise ring with a wedding ring.”

You turned your head with eyes shut in embarrassment, as he laughed at your shocked reaction. He waited for you to speak but your eyes remained closed with your eyebrows furrowed. You felt something was off and just by your reaction, Hawks felt the same. He glanced outside to what seemed to be a normal day. “Y/N...”

“Here are your drinks-” The waitress came smiling and you quickly opened your eyes, returning to your surroundings. “Hawks!” You yelled and he quickly got the message. “Get back, Miss!” A dark flying creature smashed it’s way through the window but you were quick to jump out of the way. The woman screamed and Hawks held her in a protective hold. The creature stared at you with dark piercing eyes.

Seeing that you were it’s target, you matched it’s stare and brushed the fallen dust off your nose. “Hawks, evacuate everyone now!”

“But what about you?” He asked worried.

Your eyes began to glow pearl white as you gradually activated your quirk. “You’re forgetting that we’re heroes, Hawks. I’ll be fine.”

He was hesitant but nodded. You returned your gaze back to the strange creature. With all the collected power, you gave it a strong hook kick to the chest, supported by a huge amount of wind that sent it flying out from where it came from. “I can never seem to catch a fucking break, can I?”

You ran and jumped down from the high story building. Hawks was worried. Not about you losing the expensive ring. Dramatically speaking, it did almost cost him a quarter of his bank account. But he was more so worried about you. He knew very well that you were capable of handling this on your own but the thought of you getting seriously injured made him anxious.

You glided your way down to the falling High-End Nomu, sending and shooting electrical charges at it. The lightning strikes gave you enough time to build up wind power. You were close to ground so you used up all your stored power and sent it to your leg, giving the High-End Nomu a hard stomp to the face on your way down to the empty road.

You released your leg to see the High-End Nomu’s head now entirely crushed. You tried to catch your breath and looked around. Screams were coming from all directions. Civilians tried to escape the chaotic scene but were blocked by multiple Nomus. Your eyes glowed as you raised your hands to the sky that slowly turned into dark clouds. Violent lightning began to appear and striked the Nomus left to right, killing them and giving the citizens enough time to flee.

The distraction caused the High-End Nomu under you to regenerate quickly without you knowing and you felt a hard punch to your stomach, sending you flying up in the air. Your ribs were for sure injured by now, if not broken.

The pain was highly effective and you struggled to keep your balance in mid-air. You didn’t have the strength to gain wind momentum but thankfully, strong arms grasped you tightly. You looked up to see the same annoying arrogant smirk. “Looks like I caught you just in time.”

You groaned and held your ribs. This was not the time to joke around and you definitely weren’t in the mood. “Keigo, give me a boost.” He gazed down at you before getting ready. “Whatever you say, darling.”

Hawks threw you towards ground level, giving you the speed you needed. You shot lightning towards the High-End Nomu but with each strike, it was quick enough to dodge them. You snarled in dissatisfaction and with all the energy you had left, you attempted to give the creature another kick. It was too quick, grabbing you by the ankle and smashing you to the ground.

The harsh impact made you dizzy and gasping for air. The monster was about to finish you off with one last punch before being cremated by hot blue flames. You heavily breathed and held your ribs, rising up to gaze at the figure that you wished wasn’t there.

The streets were packed with dust and smoke but Dabi was able to see you clearly. “Well won’t you look at that. You’re still fighting.” Blood was dripping down from your forehead and lower left eye. Your hero attire was ripped in some parts. But even with the damage, you still remained flawless. He smirked and walked closer to you. “Just like the Y/N I remembered.”

You limped towards him with an angry expression. He had no right to come here, let alone ‘save’ you. He wasn’t the Touya you knew. This wasn’t Touya at all. You didn’t have enough power to use your quirk but you did have enough power to physically punch him.

Or not.

You fell midway but he caught you with a tight grip on your chin. The pain from your body was taking over and you were struggling to stay awake. Dabi looked down at you with pity, pulling you up. “Dying on me now, Y/N? But we barely got to talk.”

You stayed silent, blinking as much as you could to keep you from fainting. A tiny light was shining brightly and Dabi looked down to your hand, only to see a ring displayed on your ring finger. He grabbed your hand and examined it. “That little chicken bastard gave this to you?” You didn’t respond and faded off, pissing Dabi off even more. He snatched the item off your finger and tightened his grip on your chin. “What do you see in him that you don’t see in me? You remember your promise, don’t you?”

“Touya?”

The boy flinched at the sudden call of his name. Your soft voice echoed in the room and the sound of your footsteps gradually got closer. You sat infront of him with crossed legs and scooted closer to him. “Touya, what’s the matter?”

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Just go back to Keigo.”

“I don’t wanna see Keigo. I came to see you.”

Your eyes softened, analyzing all the scars and burns of the boy’s body. He hid them behind layers and layers of gauze and you never noticed how much pain he put himself through. You spent most of your time with Keigo and unintentionally pushed Touya away.

You pulled the boy closer in a hug, never wanting to let go. “I’m sorry, Touya. Keigo told me he was feeling left out so I wanted to spend time with him.” Touya was about to speak but closed his mouth, letting you continue.

“I promise to put you first before anything. I promise I’ll always protect you and stay by your side. I promise that one day when you ask me to be your girlfriend or wife, I’ll always say yes. We can be heroes and be together like we imagined.”

Touya was young and kids always had their own wild imaginations of the future. Always having their own crazy perception in life. It was a know fact that you and the boy had strong feelings for eachother. Even at that age, Touya knew he wanted to be with you. For you to become his girlfriend. To become his wife.

He also knew his ‘disappearance’ had to be done. He was sad that he had to keep that secret from you but it was only to keep you safe. It was what he had to do. It would be a while before he could see you again.

“You promise, Y/N?”

“Always.”

“How’d that turn out?” Dabi watched you with eyes full of pain and you did nothing but stare at the ground. Words couldn’t leave your mouth as the memories were too much to handle. Finally, you had the courage to look up to him. “I could never love you. Not like this.”

Those words struck Dabi like an arrow to the heart and he tried to mask the hurt from his face. He slowly pushed you away from him. He stared at you and internally fought with himself, trying to bring himself to hate you, to want to kill you but he couldn’t.

He sighed and his eyes softened, lightly stroking your scratched cheek. “Even if I tried, I could never hurt you. You know how much pain you bring to me?”

Red feathers pierced Dabi’s back, causing him to yell in pain. He released his grip on your chin and before you could fall, Hawks dived in and swooped you into his arms, flying upwards.

“Am I too late to the party?” He jokingly laughed until he realized your unconscious state. Full protective mode was now on and he gathered his feathers back, zooming as fast as he could to the nearest hospital. “Don’t you dare die on me, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

Dabi plucked the last feather out of his back, furiously throwing it to the ground and getting ready to burn it before it quickly flew up to Hawks. The High-End Nomu fully regenerated and Dabi watched as the winged-hero had you wrapped around his arms. He pulled out the ring he stole from you and stared at it.

“I’m gonna kill you, Keigo Takami. Even if I die trying or in the process of it all. If it’s the last thing I do.”

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

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Wonderful tonight // F.M.

Synopsis: Reader is Pope’s sister and her and Frankie have been dancing around each other for years. Now Pope is getting married and emotions are running high and Frankie and Reader are both single at the same time for the first time ever. It’s all about the longing, the yearning.

A/N: This entire thing was inspired by that picture of Pedro in the header and how handsome he is. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I rewrote this story about 5 million times. If you like it let me know if you don’t then you can also let me know if you want. I did run this through spellcheck but it’s not really edited. I don’t have the time, honestly. Just ignore mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ One day I’m gonna stand right over there. I’m gonna wear an expensive suit and shiny shoes. I’m gonna get my hair done real nice, and probably have a flower pinned to my jacket. My hands will be clammy and my heart will be racing. There will be flowers, lots of them, all over the garden. We'll have a musician playing acoustic guitar. All my friends will be there, and — and our entire crazy family. And I’m gonna get married to the love of my life. Right here. And things will be good. People will be happy.”

“ Mom will probably be crying. “

“ Oh for sure. “

As she steps out into the garden, (Y/N) can’t help but let her mind wander back to that one summer night a long time ago. Pope was fresh out of high school then, about to move out and start the rest of his life, away from home. Nights like these, sitting in the garden of their childhood home and sharing silly stories and hopes and fears, were numbered. That’s the thing about having siblings, it really only occurs to you how important they are to you when you’re faced with the idea of a life without them. So they sat there, on the steps of the porch, ice-cold cans of coke in hand and hearts open and vulnerable. Pope had never shared any of his dreams with her, not like this at least. But maybe him leaving home made him feel nostalgic too.

Her eyes meet his across the aisle and he smiles at her with his signature Santiago Garcia smile, the one that’s gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger, the one that looks so much like their mother’s. An ocean of flowers surrounds him, just like he said it would. And their entire crazy family has taken their seats, ready to watch him get married to the love of his life. (Y/N) has always been proud of her brother's achievements, in and outside of the army. But she’s never been more proud than today.

Will softly links his arm with her’s as they walk down the aisle to take their respective places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The air is filled with the soft melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar and the perpetual scent of peonies. The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain knows that life isn’t like the movies but maybe, she thinks, sometimes life grants us a little moment in which we get to relish in a bit of that magic that makes those films so enchanting.

Just as she’s predicted all those years ago, her mother is crying. Big happy tears roll down her blushed cheeks. If we’re being entirely honest, neither (Y/N) nor their mother had really believed they’d ever see Pope up there, wearing an expensive suit and shiny shoes and waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle so he can marry her and start their happily ever after. Then again, ever since he was little Pope always found a way to get the things he wanted if he only set his mind to it. The sky was and still is the limit for her brother and that is something (Y/N) is infinitely envious of and wonderfully amazed by at the same time.

As they reach the front, Will lets go of her arm and walks right to stand with Pope and the groomsmen and she walks to the left stepping up beside the maid of honor.

It all goes so fast from then on, one more bridesmaid and groomsman, the flower girls, then the bride. She looks gorgeous and she’s smiling the biggest smile. It’s one that just radiates with pure unfiltered joy. And there’s love in her eyes. So much love. The way she looks at Pope leaves no doubt about her feelings for him. It’s the most basic of all human emotions and yet the most complex to grasp though at that moment, in her eyes and his, it’s so clear to see and so easy to understand.

(Y/N) feels her heart do a little stutter as she allows herself, for the first time that day, to let her eyes wander towards the row of groomsmen. This is, by all accounts, a bad decision that’s only gonna hurt. Self-destructive behavior is something she’s pretty good at though.

Frankie stands next to Pope like a rock, sturdy and determined and ready to catch him if he were to stumble or fall. That is something so enigmatic about Frankie. As flimsy and unpredictable he can be when it comes to himself, he’s incredibly loyal towards his friends and loved ones. He does not falter, does not shake. Not for his loved ones, never.

The dark blue suit looks good on him, it fits him like a glove and it must’ve been expensive. Though (Y/N) can’t help but feel like something is missing. This isn’t the Frankie she knows. The one she —. Granted, it’s been years but still, there’s something funny and peculiar about Frankie in a fancy suit.

His lips are pulled up in a small, gentle smile. One that makes a comfortable warmth settle in (Y/N)’s heart. This man is both so familiar and yet so complicated. He’s been a constant in (Y/N)’s life for a long while now, ever since the first time Pope brought him around for dinner. Even without any blood relation, those two are brothers through and through. Will and Benny too. Those four, forever bound to one another by the horrors they’ve seen, the pain they’ve felt, and the family that developed along the way.

(Y/N) loves those boys, they are as much a part of her family now as they are of Pope's and yet, something about Frankie always felt different. From the first moment, their eyes met, the air filled with a strong magnetic pull. Invisible but palpable. It was always special. Always. Frankie is the kind of guy one can call at 3 am because you’ve heard a scary sound and don’t feel safe and he’ll jump into his car and come check it out for you and protect you, no questions asked. And he never wants anything in return. He just gives because that’s what his heart tells him too. The world, (Y/N) thinks, needs more people like Frankie.

He’s not without his issues, far from it really, and (Y/N) can acknowledge that. But the sum of his faults does not undo the size of his heart. Somewhere along the way of their friendship things changed. It was a gradual change, slow and steady like water down a stream. Glances lingered, hands kept brushing more frequently and the air held a perpetual sizzle of static. Though neither of them ever admitted it, they both knew it was there. Hell, even the boys, foolish and naive as they could be, noticed. It was a well-known secret.

If life really was a movie, the two of them would’ve gotten a happily ever after by now. A dance on a rooftop, a kiss in the rain, a soft indie song leading them into the end credits. A gentle epilogue to a slow burn romance.

But life really isn’t a movie. Everything seems to be working against them. Mostly time and cultural conventions. This man is her brother’s friend. Her brother’s brother. You don’t date your brother's friends, that’s like an unwritten rule. But time is probably the worst of their enemies. It never seems to be on their side. They’ve never been single at the same time. Frankie went through several more or less serious relationships and while (Y/N) hasn’t found anyone to settle down with permanently, there’d been men she lent her heart to.

Last year, just a few weeks before Pope swept his band of merry men off on their suicide mission to Colombia, (Y/N) moved back home after ending a 3-year relationship. Dave was — he was nice. Nice and secure and stable and boring. Something about him felt too squeaky clean. That night, looking at old pictures of herself and the boys that were proudly displayed on the fireplace in her parent’s living room, it became abundantly clear to her that Dave wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Dave wasn’t Francisco. She’d really set her mind to it then, to pull herself together and muster up the courage to finally seek a conversation with him about the elephant in the room they both had refused to acknowledge for so long. She’d been determined. Then Pope dropped a bomb on her.

“So Frankie and his girl are having a baby.”

And from that moment on she refused to let herself entertain any thought of her and him having any kind of future that went beyond being friends. It hurt, god it hurt like hell. But dreaming of things that could never be wasn’t doing her any good either.

Seeing him now, looking all snazzy in his suit and smiling, it sends a familiar shive through her body and makes the moths in her stomach go crazy. If only life was a movie. If only.

The ceremony passes in the blink of an eye. There’s happy tears, lots of them but love shines brightly through it all. Every glance, every touch, every word spoken. As her brother and his new wife make their way down the aisle, (Y/N) dares to take another glance towards Frankie and, for the first time that day, he’s looking back.

The world doesn’t shift or shake right then, doesn’t spin out of its axis. Nothing fundamentally changes but the air feels different. The electricity is back. The magnetic pull. The undeniable attraction. Just like that, they are both thrown back into this everlasting limbo of what-ifs.

(Y/N) looks away before her heart can break further, knowing what could’ve been and what can never be.

Weddings have this strange side effect of making you think about your own romantic entanglements. It’s not necessarily a bad thing or a sad thing. It’s just a fact. Seeing other people’s love being displayed so prominently, being celebrated, it makes you wonder. Will I ever find this kind of love?

“ You know, I think you and I gotta have a talk.” Pope’s voice holds a certain edge to it, a teasing tone she’s heard so many times growing up.

“ About what? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife right now? “

“ Ah, she got caught up in a conversation with her aunt, something about corgis. Once that woman starts going there’s no stopping her. It’s — it’s a lot.”

“ And you left your wife behind to fend for herself? What a way to start life as a married couple.”

Pope gives her a chuckle and their silly banter makes (Y/N) feel like a kid again.

“ So I’m gonna need you to talk to Fish. “

“ Huh? “

“ Oh don’t play dumb. I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I know when something’s going on with you and something is definitely going on.”

“ What’s my emotional turmoil got to do with Frankie?”

Her older brother raises his eyebrow in mock offense. As if to say “you really think I’m that dumb?”

“ You two have been throwing looks at each other all day whenever you think the other isn’t looking. Subtlety really isn’t either of you's strong suit. “

That, (Y/N) thinks, must be absolute nonsense. Frankie’s got a girl and a baby, there’s no reason for him to sneak glances at her. Clearly he’s gotten his happily ever after already and it doesn’t involve her. Pope must be delusional. Must have a head filled with cotton candy and all things rose-colored.

“ You’re on a wedding high, my guy. There have been no looks. “

Her words are met by Pope shaking his head in frustration. “ Look, I just — just please go talk to him. This dancing around each other is very high school drama and I love you both which is why I can’t watch this going on any longer. “

“ What are you saying?”

“ That if there’s something there worth um — worth exploring, you don’t have to worry about me or my opinion on it. “

If anyone had ever told her those words would ever leave her brother’s lips, she would've called that person crazy. Not that they change anything, he’s still got a woman at home and a baby. But still — it’s nice to know that if things had worked out differently, Pope would approve.

“ Are you saying that if I wanted to date Frankie — which I don’t, but like let’s pretend I did. Hypothetically. You’d be okay with that? “

“ (Y/N), “ Pope says and his voice dips lower as his expression grows more serious “ I love both of you. I just want you guys to be happy. “

Before either of them can continue the conversation, the bride steps up beside them, throwing her arms around Pope’s middle and facing (Y/N) with a big, radiant smile on her face.

“ Sorry I had to interrupt but I needed to get away from aunt Lisa and her Corgie stories.”

“ Nah it’s okay, don’t worry I uh — I gotta go talk to someone. “

Pope smiles at her in return and a silent understanding passes between the two. Maybe the story wasn't all that hypothetical after all.

Much to (Y/N)’s delight, Frankie sits alone at the table. His suit jacket is lazily thrown over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. This looks more like the Frankie she knows. The one she loves. Effortlessly cool and yet so undeniably charming.

Sliding onto the chair next to his, she can feel her heart speed up with anxiety. She shouldn’t feel this way around him. Underneath all the feelings, this is still her Frankie, one of her best friends, a member of her little family of misfits.

“ Hey, you. “ her words are soft, delicate, almost as if she’s afraid of saying them. And maybe she is. A little bit at least.

“ Hey, stranger. Long time no see.”

His voice is dark and soothing but there’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing.

“ Mmh. It’s been a while. “

“ Yeah, and with the way you’ve been avoiding me all day today, it makes me wonder if I did anything wrong. “

Oh god.

“ Dude, what’s it with everyone thinking I’m avoiding you? I’m not. “

“ You sure about that? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in question.

“ Yup. Just been a — a busy day. I’d never avoid you, I missed you. “

At least the last part of that statement is factual. She’s missed him terribly.

“ I missed you too “.

There’s a truth in his eyes, a grounding honesty that is so hard to come by in people. Whatever words fall from his lips they are deliberate and he means them 100%. It’s something (Y/N) has always admired and appreciated about him.

“ Sooo … I was hoping you’d bring a plus 1 today. “

“ Huh? “

“ The baby ! “

“ Oh. Oh, I think it’s way past her bedtime by now. She’s uh — she’s with her mom. “

“ Do you have a picture? “

Frankie scoffs, “ One? I got a bunch of ‘em. How much time have you got? “

As he pulls out his old battered leather wallet, (Y/N) can’t help but let a smile take over her face. It’s so fitting that he would carry the pictures around in his wallet instead of having them saved on a phone. Frankie was never the guy to get all obsessed with having the newest technological gadgets. Though he was smart as hell and good at navigating any and all electronic devices, he never felt the desire to own a smartphone himself only having caved and bought one a year ago when his old phone died on him.

“ That’s her. Just celebrated her first birthday. “

The girl in the picture is undeniably Frankie’s daughter. She’s grinning up at the camera with his exact smile only she’s missing a few teeth still. Her eyes are the same soothing shade of brown and are rimmed by the same thick black eyelashes. She’s gorgeous and something about seeing her sends a pang straight to (Y/N)’s heart. What if …

It was one thing knowing that he was a dad but actually seeing his baby and realizing that’s his new reality, it’s strange. And while (Y/N) is happy for him, a part of her has a hard time coping with that realization. What if things had worked out differently, could that have been her life too?

“ She’s adorable. “

“ Yeaaah, “ Frankie replies and shrugs his shoulder casually, “ guess I did a pretty good job there. ‘s the first time in my life. Only thing I ever did right. “

Though he tries to shake it off and veil his words with a tone of mockery, (Y/N) can see right through him. The self-depreciation has always been a point of contention to her. How he can not see how wonderful he is, how loyal and sweet and loving, is beyond her.

“ Shut up, Frankie. Except for my brother, you’re the only guy I know that would drop everything to help me paint my kitchen at 1 am on a Tuesday. You’re so sweet and funny and I have not a single doubt in my mind that you’re an amazing dad. Stop selling yourself short. “

For a moment a quiet settles upon them that is neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. And then Frankie looks into her eyes again and the moths are back going haywire. If only her future lay in those eyes, oh how wonderful yet foolish of a thought.

“ Ah, I don’t know. Her mom doesn’t seem to think so. Left just before her first birthday. I mean — “ he sighs and takes a sip from his bottle of beer “ things between us hadn’t been good for a while and a breakup was inevitable. It’s just that I wish I could see the kid more. She’s my heart. She’s my everything. I want to be good enough for her, you know? So one day she can be like that’s my dad and he’s a pretty alright guy. Not that’s my dad, the ex-addict unemployed pilot. “

“ Frankie. That kid's gonna love you so much, now and forever. Because you love her. That’s all that matters. When you think about your childhood, do you think about your parents’ jobs? No. You think about how much they loved you and the good memories you had with them. “

Frankie stays silent for a moment, just looks at her with his big brown eyes, and then — then he smiles.

“ Can I tell you something? “

“ Always.”

“ When she was born. When the doctor let me see her and hold her for the first time. I wanted to call you. You’re the first person I wanted to talk to about her. I was so fucking terrified at that moment because she was so tiny and the world is so big and scary and I don’t know how to not fuck things up for her and how to protect her from it all. And you, when I’m with you I never felt scared, ever. You’re so good at making me feel like I can do everything and at making me forget about my own shortcomings. I wanted to call you so bad. “

“ Then why didn’t you? “

He averts his gaze for a moment, as if it’s a secret that weighs heavy on his heart. One he hasn’t told anyone before. One he isn’t sure he’s ready to share.

“ Didn’t wanna bother you. “

That’s not the truth. She can tell immediately. Frankie is a lot of things but he’s not a very good liar, at least not to the people that know him very well. Though she doesn’t push the situation any further.

“ Pffsh. Bother me …”

“ Didn’t think your boyfriend was gonna be okay with me calling you in the middle of the night. “

“ Well fuck him. “

Frankie raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ Huh “

“ Yup. “

“ Didn’t work out? “

“ Nope. “

“ Why’s that? “

Cause he isn’t you. That’s what she wants to say. That’s what rests on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be spoken. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t have the guts. There’s an overwhelming sadness about getting your heart broken at a wedding and it’s not something she wants to experience today.

“ Just didn’t work out. Realized he wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “

“ So you’re not gonna be the next one inviting me to a wedding and making me wear a stupid fancy-ass suit? “

“ No way. First of all, you look hot in this suit and you know it. Second of all, nah. I feel like this isn’t in the cards for me. I want — I want a guy that I can call at 3 am to get chocolate chip pancakes at the diner and that will run through the garden sprinkler with me when it’s hot outside and that will ask me to slow dance at a wedding even though the song that’s playing is super cheesy and overplayed. Dave was sweet and he was secure but I always felt like something was missing. I loved him but we were never friends. I think that’s what I was missing. “

Their eyes meet again and a shiver runs down her spine. There’s a tension in the air so thick one could cut it with a knife. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, one that passes in the blink of an eye, there’s the courage she’s been looking for for so long. The one that helps her push the words from the tip of her tongue and speak them. For the first time. Finally.

“ Frankie, he wasn’t y— “

“ (Y/N), Darling. It’s time for your speech. “

At that moment she wants to strangle her own mother. That courage? It’s never gonna come back. This was her one chance and it’s not gonna come back ever. Oh god, what is Frankie gonna think? What’s gonna happen to their friendship ?!

“ Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll just. Okay yeah. I’m coming. “

She doesn’t dare even as much as glance back at Frankie. Though before she makes her way over to her seat where the mic is already waiting for her and the speech she’s so meticulously planned, she hears him call out to her.

“ (Y/N)! “

“ Hmm…? “

“ I lied. I didn’t call you when the baby was born because I thought It was extremely inappropriate to call the woman I’m in love with while the mother of my child is recovering from giving birth. “

The moths in her stomach are gone now. There are bats now. Maybe a swarm of birds. Something bigger than moths for sure. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and simultaneously being splashed with ice-cold water. Her heart is beating faster and her hands are clammy and all she can do is stare and get lost in his eyes and his smile and this moment that seems unreal.

“ Honey? “

Her mother’s words break the spell and (Y/N) follows her to take her place at the table. The mic feels heavy in her hand though everything else feels weightless. Maybe, she thinks, this is what love should feel like. Weightless. Easy. Magical.

There’s a piece of paper in her sparkly clutch with a long and sentimental speech written on it all about love and finding your soulmate and all that stuff that, until today, she always felt like she didn’t really know anything about except for what they tell you in the lovesongs on the radio or the rom-coms on tv. And yeah maybe it’s still too early to feel like the world is an entirely different place now but those words he said, she’s been waiting for those words for over a decade. If there was ever a moment to romanticize her own life, to relish in the feeling of being loved, and to celebrate her own successes, it’s today.

The pre-written speech stays in the purse. Instead (Y/N) takes the mic and starts talking. Straight from the heart.

Across the room, her eyes meet Frankie’s and all she can do is smile, for it’s the first time in a long time where her future isn’t so scary. It’s exciting. Maybe everything else that came before was just the prologue and her story is just now about to really begin.

“ Hi. I’m (Y/N), I’m Santiago’s sister, and uh — I wanna talk to you about love. “

Weddings are hectic and busy affairs. There’s something going on at all times and it’s impossible for (Y/N) to find even a second to have a proper conversation with Frankie about — well everything. So much time had been wasted between them, on keeping their feelings locked up and trying to find the right moment. Now the moment is here and the conversation doesn’t seem so scary no more. Now the only thing that stands between them is this wedding. There are speeches then food then cake then more speeches then a picture slide-show one of the bridesmaids put together then then then. It’s never-ending and though it’s fun and (Y/N) enjoys celebrating her brother’s love, she wishes time would pass quicker right then. If only for once, time could be on their side.

Only when the newlyweds have left the venue to spend their wedding night at a fancy hotel nearby and most of the guests have cleared too, (Y/N) finally finds time to sit down and just relax for a moment. No speeches to listen to, no uncles who insist on getting one dance with her, no bride who needs help holding up her dress while she pees. Just calm and quiet and —

“ Can I have this dance? “

His hand is reaching out to her and there’s a nervous smile playing on his lips. There’s something quite intoxicating about it all now that she knows he feels the same. All the anxiety is gone and replaced with hopes and dreams of a future that now seems like it might actually happen. One that’s been a “What-if” for so long.

“ It would be my pleasure. “

Neither of them is a particularly good dancer but it doesn’t matter right then. All that matters is that they get to exist together at that moment and in their little bubble. That they get to be close and sway left and right as Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful tonight” echoes through the room.

“ That song is so cheesy and overplayed, “ (Y/N) exclaims, “ I love it. “

Frankie places a soft kiss on the top of her head and it sends her heart into overdrive. Is this what the lovers in a Jane Austen novel felt like when their hands locked for the first time, just a fleeting whisper of a touch?

It feels exhilarating and (Y/N) feels alive and like nothing is missing. Everything and everyone is right where they’re supposed to be.

“ You ever thought Pope was gonna end up actually getting married? I didn’t see that one coming to be honest. “

(Y/N) leans her cheek against his chest as they keep softly swaying to the song. A tiny content smile settles on her lips.

“ Actually, yeah. It was always part of his plan and you know him, if he sets his mind to something he usually ends up succeeding. “

Frankie nods in response. “ Talking about your brother, we had a uh — a conversation earlier.”

“ Now why in the world would you do such a thing? “ she jokes though not for a second does she lift her head off of his chest. He’s warm and soft and she can just about make out his heartbeat. This feels too comfortable to disrupt it for even a second.

“ He kinda implied that he wouldn’t mind if you and I — “

He stops, considers his words, rearranges them.

“ If we what? “

“ Started dating? That sounds wrong, that makes us sound like teenagers. “

“ You know, it’s funny because he implied something awfully similar when I talked to him earlier. “

“ Huh. weird. “

“ Ya think that maybe this, “ she says and gestures between the two of them “ is also part of his plan? “

Frankie shrugs and moves his hand to her jaw, softly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“ He always gets what he wants, guess we can’t break the chain, huh? “

“ Guess not. “

They’re so close. So unfathomably close. His warm breath falls onto her skin and he can smell the flowery scent of her perfume. The air around them sizzles with electric anticipation.

Back when she was a kid, (Y/N) was obsessed with the Disney Cinderella movie. Everything about it felt so magical and wonderful and life held the sweet bliss of childlike wonder and innocence. And then she grew up and witnessed her heart breaking over and over again.

Now that she’s standing here, in the arms of the man she’s loved for so much longer than she can remember, she thinks that maybe the movie wasn’t all wrong. Yeah, maybe it’s an overly sugar-coated fairytale where happy endings are guaranteed and things get fixed with a song and the help of some critter sidekicks. But the underlying message of them all, the most fundamental truth of them all is that love is worth believing in even when life gives you so many chances to lose hope.

Just like the fairy godmother has said: Even miracles take a little time.

This kiss, warm and gentle and passionate, is a miracle in itself. If only for the fact that it has taken over a decade for it to finally happen. His lips meet hers and the world spins faster and slower all at once. If this was a movie, they’d probably show a montage of all their happy memories throughout their years of friendship, all the longing glances, and flirty touches. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. She’s really dancing with him. He’s really kissing her.

She doesn’t have to imagine any of it anymore because it’s happening right here and right now and life is so much better than any movie or romance novel or cheesy pop song. They can never live up to the real thing.

Neither of them wants to pull away though eventually their lungs demand oxygen and they reluctantly detach their lips.

“ You think we should, give this thing a chance? “

Once again there he goes being so casual. As if this is not a decision that’s been in the making for such a long time now. An accumulation of years of longing and wishing and hoping and constantly missing the right moments and bottling up feelings.

“ Francisco Morales, I’ve loved you for a long ass time now. I am not letting you go anytime soon. Ain’t no getting rid of me, buddy. “

“ Good, I’m not planning on it. And I love you too, by the way.“

They seal it with a kiss and life feels like it always did only — better. Everything feels so damn right. The what-ifs are gone and in their place now stands a future worth looking forward to. One filled with adventure and happiness and love.

“ Hey, (Y/N)? “

“ Hmmm ? “

“ You wanna go get pancakes at the diner around the corner? “

“ With chocolate chips? “

Frankie scoffs “ Duh. What a question. “

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in romantic media though as they walk outside the venue, hand in hand and matching smiles on their faces, (Y/N) thinks that every once in awhile life itself makes for the best movie, the most magical moments and the greatest love stories.

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #catfish x you #catfish x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales imagine #francisco morales imagine #catfish imagine #triple frontier imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3.

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck.

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries.

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

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plush-anon · 3 years

Note

You worked at joanns? 😍 dream job

In all fairness, a large part (and I do mean a LARGE part) of why I enjoyed working at Joanns were the managers.

The store manager was a guy named Richard, one of maybe two or three men who worked there total, and this man was practically a saint as far as retail goes.

This was a man who would, with no hesitation, get on the floor to help customers, or hop on the registers to check customers' purchases out, or pop on to the cutting counter to cut fabric. He remembered the names of regulars, would chat and smile while getting shit done, and was the type of guy to speak slowly and softly when we had shitstains explode at us measly peons for not giving them the full cost of an item back in a return (ex $200) when they used a coupon to purchase an item to begin with and only paid a portion of the cost (ex. $150). No joke, this actually happened to me on Black Friday with a man who stood at about 6 foot with a crewcut and a snarl (the military Karen, if you would)

Richard, of course, stood at about 6 foot 5 inches, and reminded me of a ginger grizzly bear in some ways. Very few customers continued to be assholes when they asked to speak to the manager and Richard came over, smiling wide. He encouraged us to chat with the customers while we worked the cutting counter - it was a good way to learn about what they were making, encouraged general conversation and lent itself to a better environment for everyone, worker and customer alike, so we weren't just awkwardly standing in silence the whole time.

The assistant store manager (aka his second in command - we had two other assistant managers, but she wielded more power than both of them) was Farrah, and she was basically Cool Wine Aunt, but with weed. She was open about smoking it (but not in a pressure-the-underlings kind of way, but more of a 'yeah, it calms me down' kind of way) but never on the clock, and was just really chill in general. She was also a 'jump on the registers' type of manager, and on occasion would take the closing staff out to get a drink from the texmex place next to us in the shopping center, and cover one for each of us - particularly during the Holiday Clusterfuck of October, November, and December (their Frozen Kahlua Mudlslide was my alcoholic drink of choice - they also had these spicy chicken strips that were amazing with it, but I digress).

Both of them were amazing people who would support and back us up without hesitation (if they weren't dealing with corporate or stock trucks coming in), and both routinely worked 15 to 20 hours UNPAID overtime during the Holiday Clusterfuck so that we the underlings could get more hours without Corporate jumping up our ass about going over budget.

They were also refreshingly upfront in our monthly meetings about profits and meeting them, as well as why company policy was the way it was, and how to work within the boundaries so we got more hours. One of my favorite moments was when they said the fabric sales essentially covered their own cost (production and delivery); the rest of the cheap crap in the store was what covered our paycheck and electricity, so hawk it as much as you can if you want extra in the bank (paraphrasing here, but that's not that far off what they actually said tbh).

With some Karen-y exceptions, the customers were honestly pretty chill. There were two women from a nearby church who bought well over 200 yards of cut fleece to make no-sew fleece blankets for children and the poor in December (it took forever to do, but they were so cheerful about it and told some funny anecdotes in between, kept the counter clear as soon as they were cut, etc. Took them three carts to haul everything to the register XD).

There was the slew of quilters making everything from baby blankets to anniversary gifts to quilts for their grandkids attending the local university that they could wear to football games in the colder weather, while still showing team pride. They always bought quarters and eighths and the end of the bolt for half price, digging thru our remnants bin for something they might have missed they could get for half price. They always talked about what they were working on, and spoke in great detail on their kids or cousins or niblings or grandkids. I saw so many pictures on phones, in wallets, and they loved them to absolute pieces.

There were cosplayers making their first costume to comicon, halloween goers trying their hand at making their own outfits, and a few furries making custom suits for order or just updating their own personal outfit. There were the usual school and church Christmas plays that needed costumes, and folks making custom table runners and place settings for family holiday meals.

One notable young man bought out 30+ yards of our 65" inch wide bolt felt for JEWELRY projects he was making as a part of his business and as a part of his art program (you can major in art with a concentration in jewelry making, and he was using it for that). He didn't leave a card, but the pictures he showed us were STUNNING.

We had a few elderly mothers come in with their daughters, to pick out fabrics so they could make their own wedding dresses, or quinceanera outfits, or veils; they showed us the patterns they had, or the pictures they were basing the designs off of, and all of them were STUNNING. (One came back in with the finished dress in the bag, this intricately beaded poofy dress that had to have taken days, hot pink and shiny).

We had local restaurant owners pop in for re-upholstery projects and curtains and vinyl; same with teachers and deck dads and furniture restoration workers that would gush about the design, what they had planned. Some would bicker with their spouses on the pattern, but it felt good-natured on the whole.

We had some elderly men come in to peer over our sewing machines - "How much it run for? My wife's birthday is coming up and her old machine's about done, and I want to surprise her. She had a Singer, but she hates the electronic screens on some of these newer ones, they hurt her eyes." - and moms coming in to sew some custom bed sheets for their kids - "My son really likes the new My Little Pony show, but he's a little shy about it. Do you think the blue's okay? Only he like yellow more, but they don't have any back there and he doesn't MIND blue really but - Actually scratch that, how wide is the fabric? My pattern says it needs to be at LEAST 22 inches wide, does it say on the box?" - and people coming up with some WILD craft ideas that were always a delight to hear them gush about - "So this MAY seem crazy, but I can turn these plastic pumpkin trick-or-treat pails into SNOWMEN heads with felt like this. We fill them with treats for the kids since we don't have a fireplace and they like it fine, but someone said I should sell these on Etsy and people really like them! But I've run out of pumpkins, and you have NO idea how happy I am that you guys still have some left."

The group we had to work with was also pretty crafty; a few were chronic call-outs, some a bit lazy, some perpetually done-with-this-nonsense, but we were mostly on the same page on shift, and all of us were crafty as heck. The employee discount was a blessing AND a curse, lemme tell you.

Stock was the best part, for me. Hours before the store opened at 9 AM, we would rip open the boxes and stuff everything onto the shelves, organizing anything the closing shift missed the night before along the way, updating new stickers or shuffling pegs over for new product arrangement, etc. We could listen to music or podcasts as we worked, and I ended up impressing some of them bc of how fast I tore through everything some mornings (the music definitely helped out there).

I was actually about to be promoted to assistant manager after 6 months, but then I got my job with the university, and they had federal health benefits AND dental, so... yeah, no contest there. Richard actually laughed when I told him I'd been hired at the university and was giving my two week notice, since it meant he didn't have to do the slew of paperwork that accompanied new assistant manager hires. He congratulated me on the job, especially the health benefits - he said that was a perk worth leaving any job here for. I nearly cried with relief that he wasn't mad.

He and Farrah chipped in and got me a small music box that plays Man of La Mancha's Dream the Impossible Dream on my last day. It still sits on my desk at work.

It was honestly my favorite retail job out of the bunch I've suffered through. Surprising at first, since I initially received a rejection email bare HOURS after my interview with Farrah, but about a month later (as I trawled endlessly through interview after interview, desperate for anything those first few months ), I got a call back from them asking if I was still interested (which I was, bc hey a job!). They remembered me specifically bc I had missed my bus to the interview, called ahead to let them know I would be late, then walked the whole way there in the rain to get there. (It was only about a mile and a half away, so not a terrible journey, but flooding is an issue in our flat-ass city; I looked like a drenched afghan hound holding a useless umbrella, so enjoy that imagery).

They were particularly impressed by the calling-ahead part.

Unfortunately, both of them ended up moving on to different paths over the year after I left - apparently they had been friends with benefits (? I say hesitantly, since I ran into one of my coworkers at an art show later on and she spilled the beans there - she was a bit flighty in nature though, and got caught up in gossip a LOT, so who knows. Lovely brocade custom projects though), and his ex girlfriend had called corporate on them and got both fired.

I think Farrah came back some time later, but the damage was done after that - the new manager came in and operated SOLELY to corporate policy. A LOT went to pieces in terms of store cleanliness, order, and general camaraderie after that - the new fabric counter folks look and sound dead inside, and barely interact with customers (not even a 'whatcha making' in passing, which is kind of sad - the stories I got helped to pass the time, and kept me from using up all of my Set Conversation Phrases for customers that actually WOULD leave us standing in silence). Corporate also stopped some of the smaller store policies that made our job easier and gave the customers a little something extra (the 'end-of-the-bolt' discount - if, after the customer orders say, 2 yards of fabric on the bolt, and there's say, a half yard "remnant" left on the bolt, we can sell them the remnant for half-price. A LOT of quilters LOVED this, and we did too, since it saved us from filling out the remnant tag and printing a sticker later on).

Just goes to show how important good management is in a business; especially when it can kick a store previously part of the top 50 stores in the NATION (while being a medium store at that - smaller place, NOT Hobby Lobby size like the Large stores) to something much less pleasant. I could be rose-goggling the situation thought - retail is still retail, no matter how nice some aspects are - but it still sticks with me as to how good he experience was even taking into account that it WAS minimum wage retail.

Food for thought, lads, food for thought.

#plush gets personal #joanns #joann fabrics #employment #retail hell #or well #not so much hell for this one #retail... purgatory? yeah that'll work

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Rundown Job

leverage 5.09

the HEART EYES in parker and eliot’s eyes as they watch hardison crack the code of the vault is my religion

- - - - -

Hardison: Kiss for luck?

Parker: Who needs luck?

confident baby

- - - - -

(Parker begins doing elaborate moves and turns to get through the lasers, quickly reaching the far wall)

Hardison: I never get tired of that

THE HANDSHAKE BETWEEN HARDISON AND ELIOT BC THEY LOVE THEIR BADASS GIRLFRIEND

- - - - -

Parker (opens a case to reveal it is full of diamonds): Oh! Bup-bup.

(Eliot snaps at Parker to get her attention)

Hardison: Eight new schools. Okay, take care, sister Agnes. (hangs up)

(Parker closes the case and gives it to Eliot for mailing as Hardison dials the phone)

Hardison: Hey, Nate, we’re done in D.C. We’re flying back tomorrow. See you.

Parker: They’re so shiny. Couldn’t I have just kept one?

Hardison: Road to redemption, Parker. Just think how good it’s gonna feel when you get that Christmas card from those orphans. Hell, we may even get Eliot to smile.

parker deserves all the shiny things

“the road to redemption” THEY CHANGE TOGETHER

- - - - -

Riley: Why’d you quit, anyway? (pushes button again)

Eliot: Started running with some different people...

(Riley pushes button again but it doesn’t seem to be working)

Eliot: Like a hacker...

(Hardison enters room and nods. Riley pulls a gun from his drawer and shoots toward Eliot, but the gun is empty)

Eliot: And a thief.

(Parker taps on Riley’s head. He turns. She is holding the clip and a bullet from his gun)

Parker: Click. (tosses clip and bullet on table)

eliot “I started running with some different people” spencer loves his partners and I adore that with my whole (whole) heart

- - - - -

Eliot: Good night.

(Parker stuns Riley, who slumps on the desk)

I’m glad they’re enabling her tasering obsession

- - - - -

Eliot (checks his watch): I’m gonna keep her alive. You guys find a way to get her out of here.

Hardison: With what? I…

Eliot (walks away): You stole a Michelangelo with tinfoil and chewing gum. Figure it out!

eliot is like bitch please you’re smarter than this

- - - - -

the way the three of them back up to each other, covering their backs ,,,

- - - - -

Hardison: This is a violation of my constitutional rights.

Vance: You’re Alec Hardison. You cracked the Pentagon servers when you were 12. N.S.A. has a file on you a mile long.

Hardison: Do they? What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname.

Vance: Parker here... No file on you, which is...

(Parker appears to be sleeping)

Vance: Is she asleep?

Eliot: She bores easy. What do you got on us?

hardison probably does have a cool nickname

also I LOVE how they still have no clue about parker

eliot being like “she bored easy” 🤷🏼‍♀️ the MARRIEDNESS

- - - - -

Hardison: Y-you’re talking about stopping a terrorist attack in an afternoon. We’d need all your intel.

Vance: That truck back at the crime scene... It’s an N.S.A. Mobile response intelligence unit–

Hardison: With the Schneier cryptography system and the j-dam satellite uplink? That... I know nothing about, ‘cause that would be treason and wrong. (to Vance) Are you for real

hardison: I wouldn’t know anything about that because that wouLd Be TrEaSoN

- - - - -

Vance: So, you grab the truck... (moves to sit by Eliot) Hell... Your girlfriend’s already out of her cuffs.

(Parker sits up holding the handcuffs and tosses them to Vance)

...they didn’t deny that parker was eliot’s girlfriend. they didn’t bother to correct him because it is, in fact, true that she is both their girlfriends. in this essay I will-

- - - - -

Agent: No, I can’t let you in the truck.

Hardison: A gigabyte gone... your job, gone.

Agent: Security clearances.

Hardison: You’re not gonna let who...

Eliot: What are we, terrorists? Okay, that was my plan was to come here, show you a real badge that I somehow got, and then bring somebody crazy to break into a secure vehicle? We’re gonna move this down the block. He’s gonna spend about an hour doing spot-checks on databases. I showed you my badge. Man, here, take my badge. (tosses it to Agent) Call it in. I got to deal with this guy

it’s funny because it’s true

- - - - -

Hardison: It’s got every database... N.S.A., CIA, FBI. It’s got hard backdoors into most commercial systems, live feeds into every security camera on the grid. Man, if this wasn’t such a gross violation of our civil liberties, I would be in love right now.

they never stop calling out the government and I’m Here For It™

- - - - -

Parker: Where do we start?

Eliot: We start with getting you two on a plane out of here. You didn’t sign up for this. Trust me.

Hardison: And you? You’re going to handle this by yourself? Come on, she’s a lady, man. She needs the right touch. What you gonna do with your big punching hands... Punch the screens? No.

Parker: We agreed we all change. Better or worse, we change together.

Eliot (after a moment): What do they got on the gunman?

ELIOT JUST WANTS HIS PARTNERS SAFE

also,,, for better or worse, we change together??? BITCH THOSE ARE WEDDING VOWS

- - - - -

Parker: Do you know why you bring a cooler full of ice to a robbery? No? I do. Everything we need to know is in that basement. I’ll drive.

Hardison: Hold on.

Eliot: Exactly.

Hardison: No, hold on. (holds on to table)

Eliot: Oh, you... oh, hell, man (sits down in chair across from Hardison. the van horn honks twice and eliot looks around, fumbling) No seat belts up in this thing- (looks at Hardison) d-do you got a seat belt?

Hardison: No, uh-uh, hold the wall (holds the wall)

eliot and hardison being exhausted boyfriends at parker’s reckless driving, I love this song

- - - - -

Parker: How do you lose track of a whole laboratory?

Eliot: There’s over 200 tons of uranium missing from the United States nuclear storage.

Hardison: The air force lost a hydrogen bomb off the coast of Georgia.

Eliot: Countries are big things, Parker. A lot of secrets slip through the cracks.

wow I love knowing these things and having to live with it

- - - - -

Hardison: The Spanish flu killed 50 million people during World War I, and now somebody’s got it. (opens door)

Parker: Look, we can do this. Just treat it like any another job.

Hardison: This isn’t just any other job.

Eliot: All right, all right. Stay focused.

Hardison: I focused! That bug in there killed 50 million people! 50! And that was when the population was lower.

Parker: Now?

Hardison: Now? 150 million people. 150 million dead. Hey, we’re thieves, man, and we’re good at what we do, but this is way, way out of our league. And you expect us to go catch some psycho with a city killer? A country killer?

Eliot: You scared?

Hardison: You’re damn right.

(Hardison turns to enter the truck but Eliot grabs his wrist, holding him back)

Eliot: I’m not. I got the best thief And the smartest guy I know chasing this guy.

(Hardison looks at Parker, but Eliot grabs his head and pulls him back)

Eliot: Hey, listen to me. You’re smartest man I’ve ever known, Hardison. I need that brain to get me to him. ‘Cause you know if I lay my hands on him, it’s done. Get me to him. (lets Hardison go)

tHe WaY hE gRaBs HaRdiSoN’S fACE

eliot knows hardison is spiraling but he also knows how to get him out of it because he knows hardison like the back of his hand and knows how to get through to him

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

- - - - -

there are so many good ot3 shots in this episode it brings me so much joy

- - - - -

parker climbs hardison like a T R E E to turn off that detonator as eliot provides counterbalance

- - - - -

Eliot: Did it work?

Hardison: I... I don’t know. I’m trying to get the phone speaker.

Vance (on phone): Move, move, move! Get to cover! Pull everyone back to the perimeter!

Eliot: Ohh! My boy! (hugs Hardison) That is what I’m talking about!

tHe HuG, yOuR hOnOR

- - - - -

they really be playing grand theft auto in this one

- - - - -

(Udall fires toward the trio and they dive for cover. Eliot and Parker look at each other and nod. Parker looks at Hardison)

Parker: For luck.

(Parker kisses Hardison, then she and Eliot nod at each other. Parker grabs the briefcase and runs off the train while Eliot runs toward Udall. Hardison goes after Parker, and Udall shoots Eliot in the leg. Eliot reaches Udall and punches him, knocking him out. Hardison continues after Parker, who stops and opens the briefcase)

F O R L U C K

also high key the look parker and eliot share? it had the same vibes as “we do the things that they can’t, won’t”

parker high key kissing hardison “for luck” but also kissing him because eliot can’t

- - - - -

Hardison: Yeah. Yeah, that’ll do... that’ll do it. (he pulls her into his arms) Don’t do that to me. I can’t lose you. Do you understand? I can’t lose you. Don’t scare me like that.

Parker: Yeah.

Hardison: I can’t

he loves her so, so much

- - - - -

Vance: Promise you’ll at least consider working with us again.

Eliot: I work with them now.

Vance: Honor among thieves?

Eliot: Something like that. (walks away)

something like that,,, HE LOVES THEM, YOUR HONOR

- - - - -

Vance: World can always use some more good guys.

Parker: Yeah, well, too bad we’re the bad guys

smh, “sometimes the bad guys are the best good guys”

- - - - -

Parker: You’re shot. You should go to the hospital.

Eliot: I don’t do hospitals. (drops crutch)

Hardison: I told you. He takes getting shot very lightly

he drops his crutch to lean on parker and hardison THIS IS NOT A DRILL

- - - - -

after watching this episode, I agree with y’all wholeheartedly that this was an ot3 GOLDMINE

edit: also, notice how much is written in pink (the colorcode for ot3 notes and meta). like, more than half of it. because LITERALLY ALL OF THIS IS OT3 MATERIAL

#leverage #leverage 5.09 #leverage 5x09 #The Rundown Job #notable moments #mine #leverage season 5 #season 5

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

The Prince and the Pauper (that drives an Uber) Ch. 2

Part One | Two | Three | Four

Prince Steve paid for the hotel—he wanted one with neon lights, ideally a blinking palm tree, for some reason, until Billy explained you couldn’t order food. In the face of a royal pout, he offered to pick up pizza, and Steve studied the menu on his phone before ordering five pizzas, deleting them, and yanking Billy closer to consult.

Billy watched him scroll through, and leaned closer. “I could tell you all the reasons you don’t want to stay in the cheapest motel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s ear to make him duck his head in a grin, “—but...I’ve never stayed in a nice hotel.”

“Ohhhh,” Steve trailed off, then pulled him into a soft kiss. “You should—you should definitely get to, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

Billy breathed a sigh of relief, remembering driving back from his dad’s place, Max silent as he got a motel room and brushed rat droppings off the pillowcases. The sticky carpet had adhered to their shoes, making a crisp tape-like noise when he returned with sandwiches, and realized Max had gotten him out of the way so she could cry in the bathroom. He had tiptoed out, walked around the block, and come in again.

The idea of taking a prince to a motel with foot-long wads of hair and crud whipping wildly from the front of the AC units, or pipes so rusted out the water looked like old blood...was a great idea for a horror movie, he thought, imagining the cursive, loopy pastel font of the movie he was currently in. I want a romcom, he admitted to himself, watching Steve flick the pizzas away to frown at tourist guide listings.

“The nicest,” said Steve, scrolling through search results. “Hot tub?”

“I’d probably be impressed anyway,” Billy told him, staring at the pictures of penthouse suites. “That’s so much money, no!”

Steve grinned at him. “Their security is best. Technically I am a target of assassination attempts—”

“Technically?! What happened?!” Billy choked, his hands tightening on Steve’s arm without his permission, like he was going to prevent...something. Steve blowing away in the wind, maybe, or someone shoplifting him. This was what the money was for, he reminded himself, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically—he had driver duties now, and one of them was to hang onto his prince’s hand like a helpless moron.

Steve grimaced. “It’s been years. And I was in the car with an archbishop—”

“What happened,” Billy said, and Steve grimaced, hunching his shoulders.

“A...car...bomb?”

Billy didn’t even think, he just yanked the other full-grown man in the car towards him, squeezing his muscular shoulders until Steve banged into the the gearshift. “Jesus christ on a cracker,” Billy whispered.

Steve was muttering something else in a language Billy didn’t know, swearing and rubbing his hip, and Billy let him go.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry,” Billy apologized. “Sorry.”

“I don’t think I was the target,” Steve laughed, reaching over to pull Billy’s face close enough to kiss his cheek, while Billy’s head played a unhelpful recording of every movie explosion he’d ever seen, burning tires spinning away, and people trapped in crushed metal as the gas pooled near the flames. “I was greeting a black archbishop from Zimbabwe,” Steve said casually. “There were nazis—” he flapped his hand.

Billy made some kind of weird noise in his throat, cleared it, and said “Give me the fucking directions, we’re getting you to a fucking hotel.”

“A nice one,” Steve laughed, checking his phone. “We can get dinner.”

“Is that the only time somebody tried to kill you?” Billy asked, staring at the phone and repeating the address in his head, as a mantra.

Steve winced, opening his mouth, then biting his lips. “Uhhhh...noooooo?” he trailed off, and Billy smacked randomly at the passenger seat, unwilling to take his eyes from the road. He connected with something, soft hoodie over muscle, and Steve laughed, pushing his hand away. “Um. I…”

“You are a shitty liar,” Billy told the prince in his passenger seat.

“Maybe don’t google me,” Steve said, grimacing, and Billy gunned the motor to get through the yellow light. “Why,” Billy hissed. “Did your family get gunned down behind a theater? Are you the goddamn Batman?”

“What?” Steve snorted. “No? Aneurysm.”

“Holy shit, jesus christ,” Billy said, clenching the steering wheel. “Fuck, I was kidding, goddamn.”

“Just my mom,” Steve shrugged, as Billy shot him a disbelieving glance. “It’s fine, I don’t even remember her, I was just two—”

“Oh my god,” Billy choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry, holy crap.”

“She was a beautiful princess?” Steve said brightly, laughing at Billy’s enraged muttering. “My dad didn’t take royal title when he married her—he didn’t want to quit his job—so everybody joked that if he’d been a prince, he could’ve woken her up with a kiss. If only he thought ahead, right?”

“That’s horrible,” Billy whispered. “That’s so fucked up.”

“It’s a little funny,” Steve said, shrugging, and Billy groaned, pulling into the parking lot under the hotel.

Steve was watching out the window, his brain probably somewhere else entirely, when Billy pulled up to the window and accepted the paper ticket. “Oh, wait,” Steve said, as Billy pulled around to look for a parking space. “Did you have to pay? I never have to pay, I forgot—”

“Poor little rich boy,” Billy muttered. “Nah, I’ll pay on my way out.”

“Mmn,” Steve said, sighing. “Okay.”

“Sorry I said stupid shit about your parents,” Billy told him, grimacing as Steve got out of the car and wandered away to frown around the parking garage before smiling, waving back at Billy, and pointing triumphantly to the stairs. Billy started to follow, then remembered there was an entire goddamn crown rolling around in his backseat, and climbed over to stretch for it, and wrap the thing up in Steve’s discarded starchy white wedding jacket. “Jesus,” Billy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and getting out. “Sorry, again,” he said again, trotting up, and Steve shrugged.

“How nice? You want the honeymoon suite, or—”

“I just don’t wanna wake up to a crack-smoking rat sucking my dick,” Billy told him, eyes narrowed. “You can get STDs from the sheets in some of those motels.”

Steve blinked, staring at him, his mouth twitching. “That’s...vivid,” he said, biting back a snicker. “What do you think? I think I deserve a honeymoon suite,” he said thoughtfully.

You deserve anything you want, Billy didn’t say, or I love you. He cleared his throat. “Sure. What’s that do? You get wine or something?” He wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to drink on work nights, but Max would understand. Probably. Billy ran his fingers through his curls, making a face.

“This one sounds like it’s breakfast in bed for two—”

“I’m onboard—” Billy cut in immediately, and Steve laughed.

“—they put rose petals on the bed, I guess?”

“Only fair,” Billy nodded, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder to look at the pictures. “Princes probably need some flowers to feel right. Few woodland animals, maybe.”

“...you saying I should sing at the birds on the balcony?”

“Yeah, charm some pigeons,” Billy nodded. “Tell ‘em you got good and laid on your honeymoon.”

The lady behind the hotel desk didn’t realize they were together, and tried to step between them to take Steve to his room, but she apologized profusely when Steve grabbed Billy’s hand.

Once they got there, Billy stood staring at the glass shower in the middle of the room. “...I feel like a creep just standing here,” he said, frowning.

Steve snickered, pulling the hoodie off over his head. Billy watched him fold it and sit it on a chair, and missed it already—Prince Steve, cozy in Billy’s faded hoodie, smelling like laundry soap. Steve pulled the shirt off too, and then Billy wasn’t thinking about anything but skin.

Billy peeled out of his shirt, and swaggered closer to lift Steve’s chin for a kiss.

“Mmn,” Steve hummed into it, then pulled away, sprawling back across the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows to rake his gaze up and down Billy’s body.

“Surveying the goods?” Billy asked, flexing, and resisting the urge to cover the slight softness of his stomach, come from nights eating in the car between fares instead of hitting the gym, and evenings with Max eating ice cream and watching stupid TV.

“Never done this before,” Steve said, off-handedly, and Billy folded his arms on reflex, feeling his smile turn a little mean.

“Never what,” he laughed. “Never fucked a guy? Or a what, a servant? Never been this bored?”

“Jesus,” Steve sat up again, brows scrunched over uncertain brown eyes. “You want to stop? We can—”

“No, no,” Billy took a slow breath, imagining his therapist’s voice. Listen to what people actually say, she’d said. “Sorry. I—I’m—you’ve never done what. Exactly.”

“Any of this,” Steve said, pulling his legs up on the bed.

He was scrunching himself up, Billy realized, pulling his limbs in to protect his tender underbelly, and Billy forced himself forward and put his hands on either side of Steve’s hot, slightly stubbly face. “Hey, hey, you’re all...pillbugged up. Uh...nobody knows you’re gay?” he asked the prince, in the honeymoon suite, trying to be...gentle.

“I’m not,” Steve said, scooting back against the headboard, and Billy jerked his hands back.

“Well, I’m glad I helped you get that straight,” he shot back, scrambling off the bed and yanking his pants off the floor.

“Wait, wait, Billy—” Steve crawled after him, swinging his legs down, and Billy stopped, registering his prince was so hard he was leaking, his dick rubbing shiny streaks across his legs as he moved. “I’m not straight, wait, I’m—I like men too, and—” he frowned into the middle distance, bending his knee up again, to lean his chin on it, “—I was at a red carpet thing and Indya Moore walked by and my heart stopped, I swear to god, I am definitely into…” he mouthed at the ceiling, frowning. “Thudes?”

“...sorry,” Billy said, dropping his jeans, and rubbing his face with his hands. “Sorry. I keep—I’m waiting for the punchline, tonight, sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said cautiously, and Billy walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, shit, I’m sorry. Sorry,” Billy said, reaching out to squeeze his prince’s hand. “You’re...perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” Steve shot back, narrowing his eyes, and Billy snorted a laugh and coughed. Steve sighed. “I should look up the words,” he said, beckoning. “So that doesn’t...happen again. Come back. Come here.”

“Thought maybe I scared you straight,” Billy huffed a laugh, scooting closer, and Steve smirked up at him.

“Gonna have to try a lot harder than that,” he said.

“Lemme kiss you,” Billy told him, feeling hoarse, then jerked with surprise as Steve surged up to kiss him open-mouthed, tasting of mint and latex, and pulling Billy across him onto the bed in a crash of elbows, knees, stiff bridal uniform trousers, and bumping teeth. “God, feels like I just married you,” Billy whispered, rubbing his nose with a wince where it had connected with Steve’s jaw.

He could feel his face getting hot again, but with Steve grinning under him, all he could think about was soft lips, and the warm, firm skin against his. “Should have carried you across the threshold,” he whispered, bracing himself on his elbows to hover over Steve’s chest.

“Maybe you should’ve,” he said, laughing. “Maybe—”

“Maybe I should,” Billy said, sliding off the bed to scoop the royal heir into his arms, spin them both around—Steve whooped, slinging his arms around Billy’s neck and kicking his feet—and walking them out the door of the hotel room.

It locked.

“Oh shit!” Billy breathed, and Steve burst into snickers, hugging him tighter around the neck.

“I’ve got the keycard in my pocket,” he whispered, kissing Billy’s jaw. “Husband.”

“Shit,” Billy answered, laughing along now he knew he hadn’t locked them out. Steve squirmed around to dig into his pocket, and waved it at the door. “Good thing it’s not real,” Billy said into his hair. “Married to me, jesus.”

“You want a divorce already?” Steve asked, blinking wide eyes up at him, and Billy spun them around, kissing him on the way to the bed, his muscles complaining as he wished he’d spent more time at the gym and less time trying to keep track of Max’s anime addictions.

“No, no, you want me, you’ve got me,” Billy panted, sitting on the bed and letting them both fall sideways, so Steve’s legs were half on top of him.

“Good, I can’t take getting dumped that often,” Steve mumbled, sliding his hand around the back of Billy’s neck, and yanking him into a kiss.

Steve was warm, and laughing, and Billy pushed back on questioning his good luck. Something had to go right eventually, he told himself. Balance out the rest of my life. He oofed as Steve rolled on top of him.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, sliding his hands over Billy’s chest and shoulders with a little intent smile like he was exploring the unknown.

“Hey,” Billy whispered back, folding his arms behind his back, both so he could watch, and to make his arms flex. “Finding anything good?”

“Started out good, keeps getting better,” Steve mumbled, narrowing his eyes as he scooted forward to lean in for a kiss. Billy was already feeling his face heat, wondering who even said shit like that, when their cocks brushed, and he groaned, bucking his hips into the sensation. “God, I’m so lucky,” Steve mumbled against Billy’s lips, and Billy barked a laugh, yanking him in by the back of his head and hair for a slow kiss, the kind where Billy could see what made his prince hum happily and press closer.

Steve shifted on top of him, squishing and sliding their cocks together, and Billy made an undignified squeaking noise into his mouth. Steve lifted his head, laughing, and then leaned in again just as a knock came on the door.

Billy didn’t even register the noise, pushing himself up on his elbows to chase the kiss he’d been deprived of, but Steve pushed him back down, laughing. “Stay here, I’ll get it,” he whispered, and Billy blinked after him, bereft.

Room service brought half the menu, it looked like, and Billy stared, sitting up. “...you’re probably hungry,” he said, laughing, and Steve lifted a few lids and stuck his finger in one, then closed the lid again and crawled over, sticking a finger full of maple syrup in Billy’s mouth as he dropped next to him.

Billy watched him, feeling his skin heat again at Steve’s matter-of-fact appraisal of his dick, which was hard as rock, dripping from watching Steve peel back out of the robe, and bend over the cart.

“Hungry for you first,” Steve said, lying half on top of him so he could fist their dicks together, and looking kind of delighted as he tried it. Billy wondered in passing if Steve had watched something similar in porn, or invented it himself, but couldn’t hold back a groan at the feeling of tight, warm skin on his cock, and Steve’s smile as he kissed the syrup off Billy’s lips. “Even sweeter,” he whispered, and Billy snorted a laugh, his face so hot it burned.

He’d meant to make it good for Prince Steve, soft and slow, and there he was, pinned and writhing, his fists clenched in the sheets, while the royal hand worked his cock. “Billy,” Steve whispered, his breath hot as Billy moaned against his mouth.

“Anything,” Billy mumbled back, and came all over their stomachs. Steve was only a few seconds later, and Billy hugged him close, sticky and panting. “Anything,” he whispered again, burying his face in Steve’s hair.

“You’re enough already,” Steve laughed, smiling. “I was just saying your name. You’re perfect.”

Billy snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “Sure,” he said, smiling back.

Steve sat up, frowning down at his messy stomach, and Billy swung his legs off the bed and ran to the bathroom. He returned with a wet cloth to wipe up his prince’s belly, then fold it and scrub it over his sides, and up his chest, until Steve laughed and kissed him again, squishing the gross washcloth between them.

The next morning, Billy went to slide out of bed and get to class, and Prince Stephen of Blois, Grand Cross of the Order of the House of Orange, rolled over to slide an arm around his waist, kissing his side. The royal stubble tickled, and Billy squirmed around to face his attacker.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, reaching up to stroke his knuckles down Billy’s stubble.

Billy realized there was no reason compelling enough to leave, and crawled back over his fare-turned-seducer and prince. “…what are you doing today?” he asked, and Steve raised his eyebrows, then pulled Billy down to lie on top of him. His warm hands slid up Billy’s back as he hummed thoughtfully, and Billy was relieved to find the squirming body under him was nearly as hard as he was.

“…thought you said you had class,” Steve whispered, and Billy laughed, nuzzling in to kiss his neck.

“I get…okay grades…” Billy mumbled, catching the skin of Steve’s neck between his teeth, and feeling him groan. “…miss a day.”

Steve’s groan turned more resigned. “How about we meet again after class?” he asked, and Billy froze, then sat back, frowning down.

“…you can just tell me to stop,” he said.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and kissing it, so Billy could feel the royal breath, warm across his knuckles. “But you—you stopped working to take me bowling, I can’t make you miss school.”

“It’s okay,” Billy laughed, his eyes fixed on the prince kissing his hand, like they were at Cinderella’s ball. “I’m not that dumb,” he muttered. “I can miss one day.”

“You’re not dumb,” Steve frowned, and Billy’s grin widened.

“You wanna bet, pretty boy?”

“I was…what if I want to…see you again?” Steve muttered, and Billy raised his eyebrows. “You have to tell me no, if I’m interrupting something—“

Billy squinted. “The fuck do you mean, see me again. You’re going back to—to Europe, right?”

“Not today,” Steve sighed, stretching, and then rubbing his face so Billy couldn’t see his expression.

“Just a few days, though,” Billy insisted. “I can free up my time, I’m nobody important—“

Steve dropped a hand to Billy’s thigh. “So you do want to see me,” he said flatly, and Billy swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” he laughed, watching Steve’s hands, instead of his face. “Of course. You got time for me, I’m there.”

“...okay,” Steve said, and he sounded like he was smiling, so Billy looked up to see his foreign royalty with a little grin on his face, and pink cheeks. Billy leaned in to kiss him, and Steve mumbled happily against his mouth. “...alright,” Steve said, stroking his fingers through Billy’s tangled hair. “I’ll see you after your classes. Text me.”

Billy half-wanted to threaten him. Say ‘if you don’t mean that, just fuck me now,’ but he took a slow breath, and didn’t do anything insane, like punch next to Steve’s head, and whisper threats about liars. “Yeah,” he said, getting up off the bed, wishing he could just—just jack off looking at Steve, lying there with his long legs and the curve of his ass cheek hanging out of the blankets. He thought about Max’s face if he admitted he’d tried to ditch work and school for some kind of sex marathon with a stranger, and yanked his jeans up.

“Love to watch you leave,” Steve sang, hanging half off the bed, and Billy burst out laughing, and nearly stumbled and fell with his jeans halfway up his hips.

“Call me,” he called back as he yanked his sweatshirt on. It smelled like expensive cologne, and he didn’t look back as he left, thinking hard about cleaning the kitchen drain to try and get his cock to go back to sleep. Steve yelled something as he closed the door, but Billy just ducked his head and ran for the stairs.

Billy’d organized his classes to be done, most days, by eleven in the morning. It left time for homework, and packing lunches for he and Max the next day, and a nap before work.

At eleven-oh-three, he was playing with his phone, biting his lips, and looking at the contact picture of Prince Steve failing hard at bowling. Finally, he tossed it in the passenger seat and drove home.

There was folded, stacked laundry on the table, along with a piece of paper that said ‘BROTHER SHAMING: what has he left in his pocketses’ on which dwelt an empty bottle of sunscreen, a pile of quarters, the now-half-wrapped, linty Starburst candies he’d grabbed instead of cigarettes, a handful of shredded Kleenex, a tube of eyeliner that was oozing blackened water onto the note, tiny bottles of mint schnapps and mint mouthwash, and a gooey pile that might once have been a cookie. Billy bit his lips together, raising his eyebrows, and cleaned his pockets out right there on the table.

It was sort of the opposite of a treasure hunt, usually—wadded up wrappers full of gum, stuff people left in his back seat—but today he slapped down the wad of hundred-dollar bills Steve had given him, and heard Max gasp from the doorway.

“Oh my jesus,” she whispered. “Billy. Did—what did you—did you—did you get a sugar daddy? Are you—are you letting some asshole millionaire fuck your ass?!” She grabbed his wrist, squeezing it hard, but he was laughing too hard, half-collapsing against the table, to answer helpfully. “Did you rob a bank?!” she squeaked. “Did you fuck a bank robber?! Billy!”

“No!” He cackled, dropping into a chair, and leaning his face in his arms. “No, no—”

“Is it real?!” she hissed, crouching to eyeball the money at face-level, then shuffling close to sniff it. “It smells like Skittles,” she whispered. “Billy...you could go to jail, don’t whore yourself out to counterfeiters—”

He laughed so hard he wasn’t even making noise anymore, and she punched his shoulder.

“At least make them pay with real money!” she hissed. “Is your ass counterfeit?! No!”

“No,” he wheezed, and she smacked his shoulder.

“What did you do,” she growled. “What the fuck, brother mine.”

“It’s real,” he whispered, trying to stop giggling. “It’s real, it’s fine.”

“What did you do to get it,” she asked, eyes narrowed, and he grinned at her ferocity. “Billy. Are you safe,” she asked, grabbing his sleeve, and he nodded, wiping his eyes.

“It’s fine, Max, I swear. I didn’t do anything shitty—”

“Did anyone do anything shitty to you,” she growled again, like a redheaded wolverine, and Billy started snickering again, grabbing her and noogieing her head until she yelled and yanked hard on a handful of his hair.

“I’m okay,” he told her. “I don’t owe anybody anything, I’m not in trouble, and I didn’t do anything I didn’t wanna do.”

“...okay,” she said suspiciously. “Can we...spend it? All we got is cereal and canned beans.”

“Yeah, go nuts,” Billy sighed, leaning his chin on his arms and imagining Steve’s grin, pressed against the door of the bathroom stall as he tried to hand his one-night-stand enough money to let Billy relax for a month. “Don’t, like, blow it all, but get some greens, maybe. I wanna take my car in, see why it’s making that whinny.”

“Damn. Yeah,” Max stared at her hands as she counted the money, then shook her head. “Christ, Billy, we could get a new toaster.”

“...it works,” he muttered, but eyed it speculatively. “Maybe we should wait. Save it, y’know. Just in case I—”

“It sparked so bad yesterday it was—it was like lightning in the kitchen,” she said with a grimace. “I threw a Pop Tart in and didn’t have the lights on, and I pushed the thing down and—GAH. Seriously, one of these days, you—you’re gonna find me on the kitchen floor with smoking hair.”

“Okay,” Billy nodded, making a face. “But then we gotta save some. I get sick, there’s no way to cover bills—”

“I know that!” she yelled. “That’s why I want a job, asshole!”

“I can do this!” he yelled back, and she narrowed her eyes, taking a step back and away, and Billy bit his lips, turning to face the other way. “I—I’ve got this, okay, just—just fucking—go to school and shit, you’re fourteen—”

“You’re eighteen!” she shot back. “You can’t even buy liquor!”

“I know!” he shouted at the wall, wanting to scream. “I know, I—I’m—we’ll get a fucking toaster, okay, I—I got you, will you just—”

“You don’t have to!” she shrieked back at him, and the neighbor started pounding on the wall.

“Shut up,” Billy sighed. He grabbed his phone, stomped into his bedroom, and locked the door.

He could hear Max slamming around in the kitchen, and he groaned, burying his face in his pillow, when his text alert went off. He clicked it, sniffling.

Prince: You off in time for lunch? Or dinner?

Billy stared at it, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, blew out, and texted back.

Billy: Out of school

Billy: don’t have to work today because somebody handed me a stack of CASH last night

The phone rang, and Billy cleared his throat before he answered.

“You wanna pick me up? I’ll get you lunch,” said his prince.

“Y-yeah,” Billy nodded, wiping his nose.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, and he sounded so urgent Billy wanted to bawl.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, curling up tighter on the bed. “I—I’ll come and—you still at the hotel?”

“Yes I am,” Steve said, “I’m—is there anything I can do?”

“You already fucking did,” Billy grated out. “I have money and my kid sister is all excited to have a toaster that won’t kill us and worried as shit I’ll get sick and we won’t have any money left—”

“A toaster?” Steve repeated, startled. “Are you—you okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Billy growled out, his vision blurring with tears again. “I’m—it’s fine, it’s just—” Steve waited, and Billy rolled onto his face, punching the pillow. His throat hurt. “I don’t have custody,” he whispered. “She—I’m her step-brother, you know, I just—god. Anything happens to me, she’s—”

Steve was quiet at the other end, and Billy wondered whether he’d hung up. “...but you’re fine?” he asked finally. “Right now, you’re okay?”

“I can do this,” Billy told him, swallowing hard. “She doesn’t need to—she’s trying to—she’s just a kid, she doesn’t need to—”

“...she’s worried about her brother?” Steve asked, and it sounded like he was smiling.

“She wants to get some—some sleazy job that’d hire kids,” Billy growled at him. “Help pay for things. She’s gonna do something dumb—”

“Maybe there’s a way she could help?” Steve suggested, and Billy sat up, glaring out the window, then down at his hands.

“She doesn’t need to! She already—she did all the laundry, and she’s out with your money buying food—she’ll probably cook something shitty—”

“I could get her dinner too,” Steve offered, laughing.

“She’s fourteen,” Billy hissed at him, and Steve was quiet for a long moment.

“Uh.” Steve paused. “Um...you know you’re her brother, right?”

“I’m not, that’s the problem—and I know, I’m—I’m trying, I just can’t—I can’t get it right, I never get anything—”

“Wait, wait, Billy,” Steve interrupted. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy whispered, wiping his eyes.

“Just...why do you do all this?”

“The fuck do you mean why,” Billy yelled. “She called me, she—she needed—she needed me to—”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed, “—but why’d you do it?”

“I didn’t want my fucking dad to fracture her eye socket!” Billy told him, squirming under the covers to muffle his voice.

“...jesus,” Steve whispered. “But you did all this for her, right. She moved in with you?”

“I got an apartment,” Billy mumbled. “Ditched my roommates.”

“...so you did it to help her.”

“I had to,” Billy groaned. “The hell was I gonna say?”

“You could have called the police?” Steve suggested.

“What, wait until he does it?!”

“No!” Steve laughed, sounding a little raw himself. “But all this—all these—all this you do, you do for her? You do all this to help her, right?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “What’s your point?”

“Why can’t she help you?”

“She’s a kid!”

“...can I see you? Can I meet you somewhere?”

Billy cleared his throat, again. “Yeah. Yes. Let me—” he took a deep, shaky breath, and got out of bed. “Where do you want me to go?”

“...what if…” Steve trailed off, and Billy’s throat closed again, as he registered the mess he’d just dumped in a stranger’s lap. “What about a movie?” he asked, and Billy started snickering.

“You can just hang up, jesus,” he said, stretching. “When somebody starts moaning all this shit. You met me once.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Yeah, once. Liked what I saw, though.”

Billy glared at the phone, his heart pounding as he wondered whether princes actually went to some kind of charm school, specifically to cause heart attacks in Uber drivers. ‘Course, somebody smarter might not take him so serious, he realized, then groaned dramatically through his fingers. “Fine. Awesome. What movie you wanna see?”

“I do not know,” Steve said slowly. “...trying to search while I’m talking to you, and it kind of…where is there even...”

“I’ll come get you,” Billy told him, smiling irrepressibly. He ducked his head as he walked out of his bedroom, and caught the pajama pants Max threw at his face.

“The hell are you going?!” she asked, sliding across the floor in her socks to glower up at him. “No! We’re watching Die Hard! You said!”

“Gonna meet him again,” Billy said, pulling his shoes on. “He’s leaving town.”

“You’re trading your ass to your drug lord again?” she asked, sounding resigned, and Billy stared at her. “Uh-huh. Try to get twenties this time, lady at the grocery store thought I was a hooker, I think. Probably. Or I robbed a bank? Or I robbed a hooker that robbed a bank—”

“She what,” Billy mumbled, horrified, but Max shoved a handful of granola bars in his pocket, and held the door open.

“You got condoms?” she asked, her eyes narrowed, and Billy shouted back a YES, MAX, I FUCKING DO as he fled down the stairs, his cheeks burning hot.

Part One | Two | Three | Four

#harringrove #Fluff and angst #But mostly fluff #platypan

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thewarriorandtheking · 3 years

Text

A Winter Tale

Imagine spending a winter night with Thorin in a cozy cabin deep in the woods...

One of the first Warrior and The King stories I wrote and still one of my favorites

Pairing: Thorin x oc

The Warrior and The King Masterlist

********************************************

The snow was falling more heavily now, swallowing the sound of the horse’s footfalls. The trees bent their branches over the path, heavy with their wintry burden. The quiet of the forest was almost palpable, as if holding its breath. The afternoon was wearing on, it would be dark soon. Thorin Oakenshield was about to ask Kaylea Wolf if she was sure of the direction when a little cabin appeared in front of them. It looked well-kept and tidy, firewood neatly stacked in the shed on the side, the windows shuttered. Snow was drifted against the door, no one had been here recently.

Kaylea gave Thorin a hand down and dismounted her horse. Hector appeared out of the woods, carefully sniffing around. Thorin kicked the snow away from the door and opened it, gave the interior a quick glance. Low bed, table and chairs, woodstove with kindling stacked beside. He grabbed a broom from inside the door to sweep the snow off the little porch.

“I will get a fire started, if you want to see to your horse,” Thorin said, putting aside the broom to grab an armful of firewood. Kaylea nodded and led her horse under the shed. When she opened the cabin door a short time later Thorin had a fire going, the stove already beginning to radiate heat. Kaylea added her coat to the rack next to Thorin’s, dropped her saddle by the door. Her wolf followed her in and curled up next to the bed. Kaylea took a bag of coffee out of her saddlebags and put the kettle on to boil, then stood beside the stove warming her hands. Thorin came up beside her, he took hold of her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“It is funny,” Thorin said. “For most of my life I dreamed of the halls of Erebor, I swore when I returned I would never leave. Now when I am there I dream of being in a cabin in the woods with you.”

Kaylea laughed. “I am quite sure that is not true! There is no Dwarf who prefers the woods to his halls of stone.”

“I prefer to be with you, my love,” Thorin drew her close, he moved a wisp of hair off her face. “One day I hope you will join me in my stone halls.”

“Why must we always have this same conversation?” Kaylea rolled her eyes. “You already have a Queen who has given you two beautiful children, you have no cause to release her from her vows. And I cannot remain in Middle Earth with you.”

“I have cause to…” Thorin began, but just then Hector gave a low growl, his eyes focused on the door. He stood up, his hackles partly raised. There was a swift knock. Thorin and Kaylea looked at each other, Kaylea put a hand on her sword and moved within striking distance of the door. Thorin lifted the latch and opened it.

On the step was an old man, wrapped in a heavy brown cloak, his hood pulled low against the weather. He was wearing a mantle of snow and carrying a soft satchel, in his hand was a long wooden staff.

“Good evening! I am glad to see you are here,” The strange figure said. “May I impose to warm myself by your fire for a little while?”

Thorin stepped aside so the man could enter, “Of course,” he said politely. “Please take a chair. We have just arrived, we should have coffee in a few minutes.”

“That would be splendid,” said the man. He threw back his hood and shook his cloak, what Thorin had taken to be snow on his shoulder was actually a white owl, which also shook itself, then looked around blinking its yellow eyes. As he went to shut the door Thorin caught a glimpse of a large animal in the trees.

“There is a bear outside,” he said to Kaylea.

“Do not worry, she is with me,” said the visitor. He was quite tall and lean, his brown beard streaked with grey. He wore a felt hat with a narrow brim and a sprig of holly stuck in the band. Although there was much grey in his hair he seemed somehow young, his green eyes sparkling. The man turned to Hector and bowed,“I am sorry I startled you, Master Wolf.” The wolf lowered his head in response. He took a seat by the stove, smoothing his cloak. An ermine poked its head up out of his hood and looked around, then disappeared. “Well, this is very nice!” The stranger exclaimed. “It is good to know that there are still some who know how to treat a fellow traveler in these dark times.”

Thorin looked the man up and down appraisingly. “The old ways are not yet forgotten. With whom do we have the pleasure of sharing our fire, if I may ask? And why are you travelling around with a bear?” Bears always made Thorin think of Beorn, the shapeshifting woodsman he had met on his journey to the Lonely Mountain.

The man smiled at Thorin, his eyes twinkling. “A better question is what is Thorin the King of Erebor doing in a trapper’s cabin in the forest?”

Thorin frowned at him, but before he could answer Kaylea spoke.

“My king, this is Radagast the Brown. The bear often travels with him”

‘The Brown wizard? I thought he was a myth,” said Thorin.

Radagast looked offended, but then shrugged. “Just because I do not spend my time meddling in the affairs of Men like others of my order...ah, well! Perhaps it is better to be a mystery.”

Kaylea took three mugs off the shelf and poured the coffee. She offered one to Radagast who took it gratefully. He held the mug in both hands, sipping at it cautiously.

“This is very good. Thank you!”

“Do you know your bag is squeaking?” Kaylea asked, looking at the bag in the wizard’s lap that was moving in two different directions.

“Yes, yes,” said Radagast, putting down his cup to reach into his bag and draw out two tiny brown kits. “Their mother was killed by a hunting party yesterday. They are too young to make it on their own, they are the second reason I am in this part of the forest tonight.” He cradled the kits in his arms, speaking softly to them in a strange language. They fussed and wined but soon fell asleep. The wizard sat rocking the tiny creatures tenderly, a soft smile on his lips.

“The second reason,” said Thorin, looking at the wizard questioningly. “What is the first?”

“That would be you, your majesty,” said Radagast, carefully placing the wolverine kits back in his bag. He picked up his coffee again and sipped at it. “This really is very good!”

Kaylea chuckled at the wizard. “What business do you have with the King Under the Mountain? The Dwarves are a bit outside your purview, are they not?”

“Yes, thank the Goddess,” Radagast reached into his robe, searching his pockets. “I prefer to have as little to do with them as possible, such odd people. Only interested in metal and stone. But I do have something that belongs to the King, when I heard you were in the forest I could not miss the chance.” He brought out a heavy gold ring and presented it to Thorin. “I believe this is yours.”

Thorin was scowling at the wizard’s words but when he saw the ring his eyes went wide. He took it almost reverently, inspecting it carefully. “This was my grandfather’s,” he said softly, almost to himself. “However did you come by it?”

Radagast took a deep breath. “A crow brought it to me years ago. Found it in the rocks before the gates of Moria, they do love shiny things. I have been meaning to return it to you. I set out several times to do so, but something else always seemed to come up. And I do so hate to travel outside the forest.”

Thorin wanted to give the wizard a piece of his mind, How could he have kept this ring? But Kaylea spoke first. “Thank you, Radagast,” she said. “The King is very happy to have this returned.”

“Well, now that I have delivered it I must get on,” the wizard said. “I am already very late to be on my way home.” He drained his coffee cup. “Thank you for allowing me to warm up a bit.”

Radagast rose and walked to the door, he put his hand on the latch and was about to open it when he turned, looking from Thorin to Kaylea and back. He had known Kaylea Wolf for many years, a deadly fighter with the grace and golden hair of the Fair Folk. The King was not at all what the wizard had expected. Taller than a Dwarf should be, with his close-cropped beard and fine features he looked quite different from most of his people. They seemed an odd couple, but they definitely were one, judging by the matching braids.

“Why are the two of you here in the forest?” The wizard asked.

“We were just out for a ride and were overtaken by the weather,” Kaylea said lightly.

Radagast raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “I suppose it is no business of mine, you are quite right. Congratulations, by the way,” he looked at Thorin closely. “I thought you were older.”

“Congratulations for what?” Thorin asked, suddenly remembering why he hated dealing with wizards. Talking to them always made you feel as though you were having two unrelated conversations at the same time.

“On your wedding, of course,” he looked at Kaylea, touching the front of his ear where her braids fell. “Are you not the Queen of Erebor?”

Kaylea gave Thorin a sideways glance. “I am not. It is rather a long story.”

Radagast cocked his head, as if the owl on his shoulder was speaking in his ear. “I am reminded not to speak about things which have not yet happened, I do sometimes get ahead of events. I wish you a very good evening.” He opened the door and vanished into a whirlwind of snowflakes.

Thorin and Kaylea looked at each other. “I wonder what that was all about,” Kaylea mused.

Thorin shook his head, chuckling. “I cannot imagine,” he said. But his mind went to the vision he had seen in the Mirror of Galadriel. Kaylea in a wedding dress, jeweled beads in her hair, the matching rings. It was a good sign if the wizard had seen it as well.

They busied themselves preparing dinner. Thorin skinned the two coneys they had surprised earlier and cut them up, Kaylea set to work on the potatoes and vegetables. As in everything they did together the two of them worked in harmony, knowing intuitively when to give the other space on the small counter.

“Is he always like that?” Thorin asked Kaylea, turning to toss the scraps to Hector.

“Radagast cares little for the worlds of Men, his interest is in the beasts and the birds and the living things of Middle Earth,” she replied. “He does not talk much to people, so he is a bit less polished than Gandalf.”

“I do think I like him better,” said Thorin. “He seems a bit less self-important.”

Some time later, when the dishes from dinner were put away Thorin and Kaylea were sitting on the floor by the stove. Kaylea had found a bearskin under the bed and spread it out against a bundle of blankets, Thorin sat down and patted the hide in front of him. As she settled down he stretched his legs out on either side and started to take out her braids. Kaylea always did them carefully before coming to Erebor but they never passed Thorin’s inspection, he always looked at them disapprovingly until he could redo them himself. He had finished the first one and was braiding the second when Kaylea asked to see the ring Radagast had brought. It was heavy and looked quite old, plain gold with the sigil of the house of Durin on it.

“You have one like this,” she said, handing it back to Thorin. He nodded.

“I made another when I thought this one was lost. This is the King’s signet ring, the original one, handed down from Nain himself. I am very glad to have it back.” He tied the bead to the bottom of Kaylea’s braid and sat back, drawing her close against him. She leaned back, watching the fire dance through the window on the stove and feeling very content in his arms.

“When Radagast brought that ring out I thought for a moment it might be a different one,” she said.

“I confess, I thought the same,” Thorin replied. He was silent for a time. “If it had been that one, I would have told him to keep it.”

“You do not desire it?”

“I saw what it did to my grandfather, what the gold created with it did to me. I still remember waking after you healed my wounds from the Battle of the Five Armies and thinking what a complete idiot I had been. No, I do not want it.” Thorin sighed. “It is out of my reach now, and good riddance.”

“This is why you are a better King than your grandfather, than your father would have been,” Kaylea said. “You are stronger, your vision is unclouded.”

“You have made me a better king,” Thorin replied. “Taught me how to look at problems differently, how to play the larger political game...and a few other things,” he kissed her neck, then gently nibbled her ear. Kaylea squirmed, smiling, her hands squeezing his. “Did I find a sensitive spot?” Thorin nibbled at her ear again, Kaylea turned in his arms and put a hand behind his head bringing her lips to his. This was one of those moments she wished she could just stretch out forever. The dark winter night, the cozy cabin, alone with the man she loved. If only life were so simple.

#fanfiction #thewarriorandtheking #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin fanfic #the hobbit #lord of the rings #middle earth #tolkien fanfic #true love

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selfindulgentpoorlywritten · 4 years

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Oh (Sidney Crosby Imagine)

Alright, I didn’t end up proofreading this one because I spent several hours cheering myself up via vines, so... enjoy whatever the hell came out of me the other night!

Rating: T

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Reader

Words: 1625

Warnings: none

Requested: yes/no

Summary: “You found the ring I lost at this bar last week and, oh, okay, you’re cute, I swear it’s not a wedding ring”--- with Crosby

Only after about a half hour searching the bar is your ring found. Not by you, of course, but found nonetheless. You’d searched all the tables, under the booths, around the jukebox, along the bar. No luck. Until the small group in the corner makes a bit of a commotion, enough to get you to look over, to see one of them holding up a silver ring. Your ring. It’s two flowers, entwined, with opal and amethyst in the centers, still shiny silver glinting in the low light of the bar. You move without necessarily meaning to, just desperate to get your ring back. You don’t notice who’s holding it, or the group surrounding them, or anything, really. You’re just relieved down to your bones to have found it at all.

By the time you reach the table, the guy who found it has stood up and started scooching by the others to get out of the booth. Hopefully he’s the kind of guy who’s inclined to return it, because you’re not in the mood to fight anyone, let alone someone as thick and strong-looking as him.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, taking the hand holding your ring into both of yours, “Thank god you found it.” Only then do you look at the man for real, taking in his big brown eyes, strong jaw, slightly crooked nose… He’s cute. Like really cute. You’re kind of staring at his mouth- his mouth that’s so dark pink it’s almost red, a little wet from a single flick of his tongue- when you realize it’s moving, because he’s talking to you as you stand there and stare silently like a creep.

“Thank you so much,” you blurt out, almost cringing at how high your voice comes out. You clear your throat and take a deep breath, trying to remember how to act like a normal fucking person in the face of the most beautiful guy you’ve ever seen.

“Thank you,” you repeat, “I, like, freaked out when I realized I didn’t have it.” You don’t mention that the reason you lost it in the first place is because you’d taken it off to scarf down wings with your friends and forgot to put it back on. Not exactly the image you want to project to someone attractive. Someone attractive whose hand you’re still holding in your own, holy shit. You rip your hands away like he’s a hot stove, wiping your suddenly sweaty palms against the rough material of your jeans.

“Sorry,” you say, still not quite sure what he’d said when you weren’t paying attention, but wondering nonetheless. Probably something about how unbearably awkward you’re being right now.

“It’s okay,” he replies, chuckling a bit. He has a nice laugh. You still want your ring back, first and foremost, but you keep getting distracted from that goal by his… everything.

“I’m sure whoever the lucky person is will be happy that you found it,” he continues, tilting his head just the slightest bit to the right. You must look confused, because he shifts the ring up between his thumb and forefinger. Oh. Oh.

“Oh no!” your left hand flies up to press against your breastbone, “It’s not an engagement ring!” Why are you defending this to him? Oh, right, probably because he’s gorgeous and you’re already weak for him. And if you want to go home with his number, you’ll need a miracle, even without him thinking you have a fiance.

“No?” he asks, an inscrutable expression overtaking his face.

“No,” you confirm, adding “It’s from my mom”, because you’re a dork nerd idiot who tells cute guys that they wear a ring from their mom. It’s both of your birth stones, with “Never Alone” engraved on the inside, given to you last holiday season. It’s sweet, and sentimental, and probably kind of sappy to wear constantly, but you do.

“Oh,” is all he says, a sly smile growing on his face. You’re not entirely sure you like the look of that grin, except for the part where it’s gorgeous and makes a smile start on your own face without your express permission. He looks vaguely familiar, but you’re too focused on the way he smells like slaf water and the taffy named after it (despite being nowhere near a seaport) to figure out how you know him.

One of his friends from his table comes up behind him and slaps a hand down on his shoulder, making you both jump. Now him you recognize. Kind of hard not to recognize a superstar Penguins player in Pittsburgh, especially when he’s 6’4 and so distinctive-looking as Evgeni Malkin. Which is what you’re going to use as an excuse for not immediately recognizing that the guy you’ve been acting a fool in front of is Sidney Crosby-- no hockey player should be that good looking.

“Sid, why you make pretty girl stand?” Geno asks, and you’re thrown enough by Geno Malkin calling you pretty that you miss most of whatever they bicker about for the next thirty seconds. It’s kind of funny to watch two world famous athlete squabble like an old married couple, though. You’re not sure how to deal with this entire ridiculous situation, so you’ve just decided to embrace it at this point. Besides, you don't have to meet your friend for another hour anyway, so might as well get as much of a story to tell as you can. They’re still going back and forth, something about you, and you can’t help but giggle at the sheer absurdity of everything. The sound of your laughter finally shuts them up, and they both stare at you for an impossibly long moment before they start laughing as well.

The commotion gets the attention of the rest of their table, who all start calling out different things at once, while they beckon the three of your toward the table. Geno wastes no time taking your elbow and guiding you over, huge hand gentle and warm against your skin. You go willingly, kind of excited to meet everyone, thought nervous that you won’t live up to their clearly high expectations. Then again, they’ll probably forget all about you the second you leave, so does it really matter? It’s only when you’re ushered into the booth that you realize you’d never actually gotten your ring back, despite how long this interaction has gone on for.

“Hi, I’m Zach,” one of the group introduces himself, sticking out a hand for you to shake, which you do. Then you’re introduced to Patric, Bryan, Brian, and Matt, in turn. You don’t quite pretend you don’t know them, but you try not to act too invested in them or their careers, or the fact that you’re sitting at a table with multi-time Stanley Cup champions. Just keep breathing and keep it cool. Which you’ve been excelling at since you got here, obviously.

Sid is squeezed into the booth next to you, barely an inch of table space before him, but he doesn’t seem to care. His left thigh is pressed against your right, hip to knee. You’re trying not to think about it, but it’s not exactly easy to ignore. The guys are asking you questions; how old are you, where do you work, do you come to this bar often? You answer to the best of your ability, asking your own questions in return. It’s a weird dance where they know you know them, but none of you are acknowledging that fact. They all seem to be pretty cool guys, though, so it’s not as difficult to fall into the conversation as you’d thought it would be. The guys mostly talk about their families; wives and children spoken of with reverent adoration, and it’s nice. It’s not much different than talking with your own friends, honestly.

Eventually you’re startled out of the back-and-forth by the blaring of your phone alarm, letting you know it’s time to leave to meet your friend. You’re amazed by how quickly the time has passed, an hour seeming fleeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, Sid standing to let you out of the booth. You say your goodbyes, getting handshakes and hugs from varying members of the group. Geno gives you a tight squeeze before you leave, warm and impossibly huge around you.

You’re almost at the door when you hear the shout from behind you, turning to find Sid jogging toward you. Your heart is a butterfly in your chest, watching him come closer, captivated by the way he moves. He stops just in front of you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out your ring. Oh.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the ring and slipping it onto your left hand. You’re about to bid him adieu and leave when he takes your hand in his own, digging in his pocket. You can only imagine how confused you must look, because he giggles when he sees your face. He’s taken a pen out of his pocket and uses it to gesture to your hand held captive. You nod, still not sure any of this is real. He writes a series of ten numbers on your skin, giving you a crooked smile before he lets go.

“See you around, eh?” he says, before pulling back and returning to the table, throwing glances over his shoulder as if he’s not sure you’re receptive to the idea. The idea that he just gave you his number, his private, restricted number, so you can presumably text or call him, or in some way communicate with him in the future, like that’s not an earth-shattering development. You wave before heading out the door, having one hell of a story to tell your friend.

#sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagines #andis coping mechanism #scrosby

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xsecretblastsx · 4 years

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1x09 - Blair Waldorf must pie!

Once again this took way longer than I wanted to. I guess it has a lot to do that this part of S1 is full of episodes that I loved and also are kind of important so I just feel that I have to be really in the mood to watch them with my full attention.

Anyway, enough about me, here’s the recap for this one after the break.

Thoughts I had while watching the episode

Loving the flashback of Serena in her wild days and Blair looking after her.

This flashback kind of messes up the timeline though. Because we’re told Serena was gone for a year, but that’s clearly not the case here.

Dan get’s to be Serena’s knight in shiny armor, great. To bad for him she was wasted.

How long ago was it that Blair’s dad been gone? Probs like quite a few months and he hasn’t come to visit her?

I mean I get that Dan is pissed with his mom, but that guilt comment was harsh

Harold Waldorf’s pumpkin pie, I don’t know if anyone has read as much fanfic as I have but this pie, is quite the celebrity.

The oh so casual mention that Blair takes Lexapro :/

Serena trying (and failing) to be casual when asking what Chuck’s doing today.

I think this is the first time that Serena (and later Nate) point out that Chuck and Blair are friends, considering they all were, this must mean that they were somehow closer friends.

This fight is such a clear example of how Blair and Serena go from besties to enemies in 5 seconds flat.

This one though is kind of funny to me in the way Serena’s like “I won’t judge” and then does exactly that.

Somehow Blair I don’t believe you when you say you don’t like Chuck’s natural musk, just a hunch.

I kind of feel Serena’s way of aproaching this topic was not the best, though to be fair Blair’s also really hard to approach.

Lilly how much I missed you last episode

Seeing Llily, Eric and Serena in Chinatown is giving me life for some reason

So by thanksgiving sophomore year Blair was already in recovery from her ED, she was really young when she started then.

Wow, “not this one Harold, we have to go together” this line implies so much and I can’t believe I never noticed before

Blair sending Nate to deal with Serena it’s interesting, because I wouldn’t imagine her being naive enough to not noticed Nate’s interest in Serena, granted she trusted them, but still

I love Dorota, always there for Blair, always loyal.

The mood at Nate’s thanksgiving dinner is so misserable.

Lily, Allison’s and Rufus faces are priceless. Let the drama begin!

“Oh the blond you stalk at school” really they told us and we didn’t listen!!!

Not that didn’t earned herself the harsh comment but, “he didn’t left us, he left you” kind of made me feel bad for Eleanor

Forget it, she was really insentive, and Blair’s face when she grabbed that pie is just heartbreaking.

I can’t believe I forgot about her throwing up incident after that dinner with Nate in the pilot... like wow.

Do you need to go with her? sorry Allison

This dinner is hilariously akward. Sorry Jenny, but I don’t think that song was about your mom.

This is one of my favorite Serante scenes, it’s so them.

Honestly this show needed more flashblacks. I love knowing more about their friendship pre series.

Nate thinking of calling Blair and then Serena, and realizing he can’t is the first time I think he truly gets how he really messed it up

It’s so weird now to see Blai’rs bathroom with the door conecting it to the other room.

Allison calling her character in a play Milly in reference to Lily sheds a bit of ligh in Dan’s abbilities in naming characters.

The captain reached rock bottom, poor Nate.

I wonder though if Anne was the one with the money, and yet Nate’s last name is prestigious, does that mean The Captain family had lost their money at some point and the only thing that remain was their last name?

I should have mentioned it before but Blair looks incredibly pretty this episode, and the dress is one of my all time favorites.

“But we’re not related” give it time Dan, give it time

Hi Cedric.

“Only a woman that had satisfied her sexual appetite in her youth could have married some of your step fathers” auch

And so Rufly ends... for now

Eleanor talking about the divorce paper and how she feels and how she acted because of it, reminded of a certain scene in S5. Blair’s truly her mother daughter.

The end of that flashback felt so much like this is why they say ignorance is Bliss. Except for Serena things are better for her now.

The New York setting makes this show even more awsome, that shot with the Bridge and the Manhattan skyline in the background while Dan’s family is having a merry old time is gorgeous.

So this episode was so good, it gave a lot of background information and added much more depth to some of the main characters, particularly Blair. But also Nate. I was really suprised by the amount of stuff I didn’t remember about this particular episode, so in that sense this feel like this is the episode I’ve enjoyed the most during my rewatch.

Having a flashback was easily the best part of this episode in the sense that it gives us a clear idea of how things were before the series and how disaster was brewing just beneath the surface. What a diference a year makes.The previous thanksgiving was at the height of Serena’s wild days, and it’s sad to see how her life was pretty much a never ending haze of parties and alcohol, she may be acting goofy but it’s an empty happiness and it let’s you feeling like this is the only way she can deal with her life. And always looking after her is Blair.

The Blair of a year before seems really happy, she’s on the road of recovery from her eating disorder, her parents are together, her mother is showing actually some concern for her, and Nate is still a loving boyfriend. And yet in many ways this is all a lie. Her parent’s marriage is just a charade, Eleanor’s comment asking Harold not to go after Roman, is so telling and it makes me wonder how long did Eleanor knew her husband was gay? that must have been such a burden for her, and it’s probably the reason why she was so focused in her work and wanted everything else to be perfect, in some ways it also explains her treating of Blair, wrong as it was.

Also the timing of this makes me kind of mad at Harold, he’s always comes across as the nice good parent, but this episode makes it really obvius how much his absence hurt Blair. Think about it. When the show starts it’s established that a few months before Harold had left his wife and the country in favor for a life in Paris with another man. So considering that november the previous year (only a year before the current episode) is the first time Harold hears about Roman this means he decided to leave his family for a guy he had just meth a few months before, I guess he must have really fallen in love and really quickly, and I understand his need to live a free life, but what a shock it must have been for Blair and how unloved she must have felt that his father was leaving her in New York with a mother that was incredibly hard on her, for a guy he just met. And this at a time when she was still recovering.

There’s also the Nate-Serena-Blair issue. At some poing after Thanksgiving, the Shepperd Wedding happened, which means like I mentioned before that Serena was gone less than a year, and the way Blair encouraged Nate to help her with Serena means that even if she may have suspect Nate’s interest in Serena she still believed that Nate did love her and that Serena would never do that to her and therefore she wasn’t worried about it. Blair doesn’t trust easily and in this case she did and it end ups with her being betrayed, and yet it was a long time coming. Just as I mentioned in previous recaps that there was lowkey something to Blair and Chuck’s friendship, the same can be said about Nate and Serena, I don’t like to mention at least not much future events in these recaps but really compare this scene of Nate and Serena goofing around in the bathroom with any of their scenes in the second half of S3 and they’re really similar, same vibe and chemistry. Nate and Blair goodbye at the end of the flashback even if he gaves her a kiss and calls her sweetheart, seems so lacking in comparison to his previous moment with Serena, and yet Blair smiles and it’s really happy about her life.

So all of this shows how much she had been hurting at the start of the show, her father gone, her best friend gone and a distant boyfriend who by this point couldn’t hide his interest in Serena coming across by how afected he was by her absence, and when the show starts it gets even worse. All the flashbacks of Blair dealing with food and even throwing up once when she was trying to forgive Nate his infidelity show us the depth of her problems and suffering and helps us to understand her so much more and feel for her. And in her moment of weakness she calls Serena, the fight at the star of the episode was a way of letting us know that in some ways Blair hasn’t let go completely of her betreyal and yet how easily their dissagrements go out of the picture the moment they really need each other, is such a deep friendhip, and yet how conflicting it must be for Blair to love and need so much a person who in many ways is a reminder of how things have gone wrong in the last year.

That is the crux about their friendship, they’re both there for each other when it really matters but it’s undenaible that they have hurt each other deeply, even without meaning too, Serena is a the root of some of Blair self steem issues, is not her fault but it has done Blair incredibly damage, at the same time Blair may be always there for Serena looking after her, but she’s frequently incredible cruel with her at times without a real reason beyond a missplaced sense of hurting her too, which causes scenes like their fight this episode where Serena tries to be a friend, becomes a little judgy and Blair overreacts and Serena understandably fights back... it’s a really complex relationship, and one of the aspects of the show that make’s it stand out.

Lastly, this episode is a good reminder of how ultimetly Ruflly and Derena can’t really function at the same time without it being weird for everyone involved, it also establishes the similitudes between both relationships, a warning of how things could end for Dan and Serena if they’re not careful, and this is only the start. Nate’s storyline this episode was super sad, last episode had him standing up to his parents, this one finally gets him to have some honest conversations with them, and while it hurts is nice to see him finally get to that moment. It’s a moment of real growth for him. It also gives some interesting background to his family history, about how Anne’s family (the Vanderbilts) are the real force behind his family life, the house, his father job... everything was given by the Vanderbilts. It makes me wonder a lot about the Captain’s family, and his history with Anne: did the captain came from a family with a prestigious Last name but that had lost their money at some point?, or was he an upstart? I can’t see snobish Anne falling in love with a nobody, but who nows.

Also, not that noticible at this point of the show beyond the paralles between Dan & Serena and Rufus and Lily, but in the last two episode some scenes of Eleanor and the captain had reminded me of future scenes and situations and Nate and Blair having similar reactions. Anyway I love this episode, the then and now, and how much more there is to these characters.

Random bits:

This is the first direct mention of Blair having an eating dissorder (not sure though, this is why I wanted to be faster with these recaps, so I don’t forget details)

Dorota’s wearing a themed apron, how cute

First mention of the Snowflake Ball, I like consistency hahaha.

Nate’s house look lovely, not sure if these are the real interiors of the house, probably not, but I did read somewhere the house used to be on rental? can’t remember.

There was a picture behind Jenny while they were having dinner of a kid wearing a suit, I know the cast used some actual photos of the cast as kids, so I don’t know if the kid is Penn but god the kid is so cute.

I’m not a New Yorker, but that place where Dan and his family are playing it’s really changed now isn’t it? There’s this guy called Action Kid in youtube and he was amazing videos about New York, and of this location in particular if my memory serves me right.

And because we rarely got to see Serena in her wild days, I feel I should end this post with just that.

#gossip girl #gossip girl recap #gossip girl rewatch #1x09 #blair waldorf must pie

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canid-slashclaw · 4 years

Text

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapters 10 and 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 , Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29 Chapter 30

Several months later...

"A little more to the right, darling. Oh wait. That just won't do. Nevermind!" Ariyana shouted as she directed several of her workers to re-hang some garlands.

Moments later, her mate Jestin arrived. "Cakes have arrived, dear. Where would you like them?"

She smiled at her husband then pointed towards two large banquet tables. "Put them right there."

"Wait. Isn't that where Ludrick's smorgasbord is supposed to be?"

Ariyana shook her head in frustration. "Gah! So many things to do and so little time to do them in. Use your imagination, my love. I'm sure you can work out something beautiful in that pretty little head of yours."

***

Daniel Grimwald and Ludrick Crushblow rode atop a wagon as the two of them headed towards the grassy meadow that was adjacent to the base of Thunder Falls. Brad, Cynthia, Navina and Krenesh were there to greet them as the wagon pulled into the pavilion area.

"The meat wagon has arrived," Daniel said as he reached over and pulled off the covers. "Thanks to Ludrick here, everything has been put on ice so it doesn't spoil."

"Crap! That thing must weigh a ton," Krenesh commented as he helped unload the contents.

"One and a half ton, to be exact," Ludrick stated while Navina and Cynthia helped him off the wagon.

Brad chuckled. "You gals got the easy part - helping two hansom males, while, Kren and I are stuck carrying a heap of slaughtered carcasses."

"Good and tasty carcasses at that!" Krenesh reminded him.

"Don't let your friend eat everything before you get to the banquet hall," Cynthia commented.

"Bah! With all the work we've been doing, I just might be tempted."

"She wasn't referring to you, numbskull!" Navina quipped.

"If I find Ama's blowtorch anywhere, I might just make an instameal outta this yummy good stuff."

"Do it and die, Brad!" Cynthia chided as she handed Ludrick his cane.

***

"Mom. This dress makes me look like a bloated quaggan," Rachel grumbled as her mother examined the outfit.

"It looks fine on you, sweetie. Now be a good girl and take those audiophones out of your ears."

"But my favorite band just released this single. I'm one of the first in Claypool to even hear these songs."

Her mother looked around for a styling comb. "Have you seen Katie anywhere?"

"Um. I think she's with your soon-to-be daughter-in-law."

***

"This blue flower looks so pretty in your hair," Katie said as she placed a blue violet in Amalthia's golden mane.

"Can you find me a mirror? I would love to see what it looks like."

The little Grimwald clamored off her lap then was off to find a shiny reflective object.

"Oooo. Shiney! I'm a skritt!"

Amalthia smiled at the precocious child as she coaxed her into holding up the mirror to her face. "Why that's lovely. You know that my people love to eat skritt and I'm going to do the same!"

She laughed then playfully nibbled on Katie's head with her large canine teeth. Kaleb's little sister adored the attention that his mate had showered upon her.

Moments later, Ariyana stepped in. "Darling! You look splendid!"

"Ari! So nice to see you!" Amalthia picked Katie up, carefully planted her on the floor then walked over and gave her friend a big hug.

"I see you have a little helper," the sylvari said, eyeing the little girl.

"Oh yes. I could not have done it without her."

Katie found the wedding veil and ran over to place it on Amalthia's head. Kneeling down, the bride-to-be accepted the gift.

"How's that!"

"Oh my. She is going to put me out of business if she keeps that up," Ariyana said with a laugh.

Shortly thereafter, Cynthia and Navina walked into the room each bearing gifts. After a round of group hugs, the presents were set aside and everyone began to get ready for the upcoming event.

"You really outdid yourself, Ariyana. If my man ever gets around to popping the question, you better believe I'll be paying you a visit," Cynthia smiled as she examined Amalthia's bridal gown.

"I still don't get these human rituals. but hey, if it makes the two of you happy then I'm all in," Navina said with a chuckle.

"Kal is gonna die from a serious boner after seeing you in this. Dang girl! Maybe I should find a wizard who can make me grow horns, fur and a tail. Cause you look drop-dead sexy in this getup." Cynthia jested.

"Oh. I'll be giving him plenty of those both on and after our wedding night," Amalthia said with a wink and a wicked grin.

"What's a boner?" Katie asked innocently.

Everyone was at a loss for words.

***

Kaleb wandered around carrying a half-empty stein of lager while eyeing the tent that his soon-to-be wife was residing in. He took another draught just seconds before Brad approached from behind then clapped him on the shoulder. "The man of the hour! How ya doin' bro?"

The slightly inebriated Kaleb shook his head. "Couldn't be better. It's too bad I can't steal a peak at the misses."

"Don't you know it's bad luck seeing the bride before the wedding?"

Moments later, Daniel, Ludrick and Krenesh made their way to greet the groom-to-be. The elder Grimwald looked at his son, shook his hand then took a carnation from his lapel and placed it though one of Kaleb's buttons.

"That suit fits you well, son. Think you'll be sober enough to say your vows?"

Kaleb nodded and smiled. "I'm just nervously tipsy, that's all. I'll be fine once the ceremony starts."

"You are looking well, Kaleb. I'm sure my cub will agree once she sees you," Ludrick said as he handed the young man a flask of herbal coffee. "This is a quick cure for any hangover. Trust me, I've used it plenty of times."

Krenesh stepped in and shook his head. "You and Ama have got to be the oddest couple on the face of Tyria. But even that is secondary to this even odder ceremony. Bah! This thing is so tight around me I can't even move properly."

Brad and Kaleb laughed.

"I can hunt down Ariyana. I'm sure she'll be able to modify the outfit a bit for ya," Kaleb said.

"Nah. I'll be fine. Besides, the sooner I get out of this thing the better."

Suddenly, Brad burst out laughing as he pointed towards a lone male charr who was dressed in what appeared to be a bridesmaid outfit.

Kaleb looked up and said. "Isn't that..."

"...Tovu." Krenesh buried his head in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes.

"A male charr in a woman's outfit. Now I've seen everything," came Daniel's response.

Ludrick clapped the elder Grimwald on the shoulder and said with a half-chuckle. "I think you and I are going to have to follow your son's lead and have a nice strong drink together."

Daniel nodded in agreement.

"Oh man! I'm never going to forget this day!" Brad said in between his uncontrollable bouts of laughter.

"I wish I could," grumbled Krenesh.

"I seriously wish I could."

***

"Tovu! Over here," Bogo shouted as he beckoned for his partner to come join him.

Being careful not to soil the gown, Tovu gingerly stepped over the tufts of grass trying not to trip in the process.

"You look ravishing in that outfit, Tovu."

His partner frowned. "You think so? Everyone looks at me funny. It's not like our females even wear these kinds of outfits anyway."

"Oh, pay them no mind, you silly furball. My suit is rather plain compared to yours," Bogo said somberly.

"Nonsense! That tie brings out the color of your eyes so well."

"You think so? I think it makes me look kinda drab."

Off in the distance, someone was shouting something about where the other bridesmaid was. Tovu's ears pricked out upon hearing the message.

"Sorry big boy. They're calling me. See you at the altar, you big snuggly beast!"

Bogo waved back and winked at his partner. "Give Ama my love!"

***

Amalthia busied herself putting on the finishing touches to her wedding gown. Everyone else had gone to their respective dressing rooms in order to prepare for the upcoming ceremony. As she was braiding the last lock of her long golden mane, she heard someone scratching at the other end of the tent door.

"Come in."

When she looked up, she saw the Grimwald middle child standing before her. She had a pair of audiophones plugged into her ears and appeared to be jamming out to some type of music.

"Oh. Hello, Rachel."

There was an awkward silence for a moment before the teenager responded.

"Hi."

Amalthia smiled then handed her a comb. "Mind helping me with this last strand? It's always a bitch to tame."

The teen was taken aback by the charr's crassness. "Uh, okay."

"I won't bite. I promise," Amalthia said with a noticeable display of her large teeth.

Rachel summoned her courage to speak.

"You don't have rabies, do you?"

"I got my shot yesterday. Doctor said the medicine should take effect within the next week."

"So you do have it."

"You assume much about me, don't you? I never said I did or did not have what you thought I had. Now are you going to help me with that braid or are you going to just stand there wishing you really could just tell your mother to screw off," Amalthia said with a smirk.

The girl was completely speechless.

"Oops. Did I let that slip? Oh well, it must be lagers in me," she pointed to an empty stein by her vanity.

"You really are a lush," Rachel said laconically as she slowly reached her hand towards the charr's golden mane.

"Eh. You can blame my mother for that. I sure do."

"So is your mom mean?"

Amalthia closed her eyes and grinned. "She is as sweet as cyanide in a wine glass and as pleasant as an acidic enema."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh.

"So your face is capable of cracking a smile," Amalthia said.

"Well, even though I don't like you, at least we have one thing in common. My mom pisses me off a lot," Rachel said angrily.

"So what is it about her that pisses you off?"

Rachel shrugged.

"She makes me attend church and tells me the music I'm listening to is made by a bunch of blasphemers."

Amalthia looked closer at the audio box that Rachel was listening to. She noticed the name of the band that was stamped on one of the removable cartridges.

"SynR J-TX. I know their music."

"You do? I'll bet you haven't heard their latest album. My friend knows a friend who knows a friend who works with the band. I was able to get a fresh cut of their latest release."

Rachel switched to another track and began jamming out on that. Amalthia reached over then clicked on the audio box, switching it to another track.

"Hey!"

"Just listen. You've heard the extended release, right?" Amalthia asked.

The teen shook her head.

"They did a remix just recently. So recent, in fact, it hasn't even been cut yet."

"And how do you possibly know this?"

Amalthia gave the girl a wide grin. "I do live in a tavern. It's amazing what I hear sometimes."

"I like their fifth track. It's got a really cool beat."

"It does. Can you dance?"

Rachel nodded. "Well, yeah. Can you??"

The bride-to-be stood up then offered her hand to Rachel, inviting her to dance.

"Watch me!"

Both girls were dancing in sync. Rachel showed one of her moves while Amalthia mimicked her at every step. Soon, they were dancing like a pair of professionals in harmony with the rhythm of the beat.

"How much do you hate your mother?" Rachel asked as they were choreographing their moves.

Amalthia stopped dancing then beckoned for Kaleb's sister to come over to the vanity. She, then' pulled out an old parchment that featured an array of images that she drew when she was still a cub.

"When I was in my fahrar, we were asked to draw what we would do to our enemies once we were old enough to go into battle. Everyone else drew either, Flame Legion, humans, ogres or some other hideous creature," Amalthia smiled deviously. "I, on the other hand, was a bit more creative."

She handed Rachel the parchment that depicted a child-like drawing of one charr cutting off another charr's head.

"That was me beheading my mother with a broadsword. I colored the blade brown in order to depict the blade as being rusty and dull."

Rachel looked at the images, stunned. Amalthia pointed to another one that appeared to show a charr getting blown to pieces by an explosion.

"Oh. I drew that one hoping my mother would, someday, step on a land mine and blow herself up. See the bones and entrails?"

"Um. Dare I ask what this one is?"

Amalthia looked at the image of a darkened charr and laughed. "That one was Mother getting charbroiled by a flamethrower. Get it? Charrbroiled?"

"You are one sick kitten!" Rachel said in her characteristic monotone voice.

"If I am then why haven't you run away?"

Rachel shrugged. "I dunno. I guess you are like a shipwreck. Horrible to watch but I can't take my eyes off it."

"I have the suspicion it's something else. My guess is you resent your mother but are too afraid to tell her so openly," Amalthia stated.

"How would you know? You no nothing about me!" Rachel retorted angrily.

"Oh. I know a mother-hater when I see one. Trust me on this."

"I don't hate my mom."

"But you do resent her for what she's done to you. Always being obligated to live up to those expectations, while your brother doesn't seem to give a damn?"

"Well, maybe. Mom always did get on Kals case about doing things his way. I hate him for being able to resist our mom's authority," Rachel said as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"It's okay, Rachel. Let it out. That's what I did when I was a cub. I let out all my rage and anger through my drawings. Looking back, it was very therapeutic for me," Amalthia said as she rolled up the illustrations then put them back into the drawer.

"Okay, okay. I really think you aren't so bad now. I thought your people were always evil. But in talking to you like this, you seem almost human."

Amalthia smiled and gently reached for Rachel's face in an attempt to wipe her tears away. "I've learned that all intelligent races share the same basic emotions. Even though we each express them in different ways, all of us still feel love, sadness, apprehension and loneliness."

Rachel broke down then cried as she buried her head in Amalthia's chest. The charr gave her a gentle hug as she switched tracks to a more melodious song and began a slow dance with her future sister-in-law.

***

Ulfgar thumbed through the sermon, doing some last-minute revisions as needed. Daniel walked up to the massive norn as his son helped Ludrick navigate across the uneven ground.

"Ah. Three of the finest gentlemen I know. Are you ready for the big one, boy?" The old norn said with a hearty tone.

"When is anyone ever ready? I can't wait to see what Ama's dress looks like. Any idea where my sister's at?" Kaleb asked as he anxiously looked around for the ring bearer.

"Amalthia is giving Rachel the rings now. I think you'll like her attire, Kaleb," Ludrick said with a satisfactory nod.

"Father. Where's mom?"

"She's paying your future wife a visit. It's one of those mother-daughter sort of things." Daniel looked at his son with an air of pride and smiled.

"Take a deep breath, lad. This is supposed to be a legendary occasion, not a funeral."

"Sorry about that, Ulf. It's not the wedding itself that has me uptight so much as seeing so many folks here all in one place. I know that things started off very rocky for everyone, and this whole thing still feels so unreal. Never in a million years did I think we would ever come this far."

Ulfgar patted Kaleb on the shoulder. "And come far, you did. You and Amalthia are the first marital union in Tyira between human and charr. That is no small feat in and of itself."

His father gave him a reassuring hug as well. "Ulfgar's right, son. Through everything, you've never wavered in your conviction. This is as proud a day for me as it is for you and your bride."

Ludrick gave his future-son-in-law a pat on the shoulder as well then saluted with his fist to his chest. "Kaleb. Two years ago, you walked through that door in my butcher shop and everything I had ever known changed forever. You brought light into my cub's heart and hope to this old warrior once more. Even though you may not have fur, large teeth or horns, I feel that deep down you are as much of a charr as I am. If there is anyone on the face of Tyria who is worthy of my cub, it is you Kaleb Grimwald."

Everyone heard a noticeable sniffle coming from the mighty norn. "Baw! You've done and gotten me all sentimental ya old warbeast."

Kaleb gave the charr a tight bear hug as tears dribbled from his eyes and onto his future father-in-law's dark orange fur.

***

The usher called into Amalthia's tent letting her know that the ceremony would begin within the hour. As she was finishing up some last minute details, the usher also stated that Shirley Grimwald wanted to see her privately.

"She may come in."

The tent door opened and in walked Kaleb's mother, who was dressed in a conservative plain long dress. She approached her soon-to-be daughter-in-law then quietly pulled up a chair as she sat directly in front of her.

"That sylvari did an impeccable job making that dress," Shirley said as she began straightening out the pleats along the front.

Amalthia helped her with the hem. "That she did. I really like what she did to the backside. It doesn't bunch up around my tail at all. Not that such a thing is an issue with your people."

Shirley paused for a moment before responding. "About that topic Miss Steelblade..."

"Grimwald-Steelblade, if you don't mind. And Mrs please. It's a title we will all have to get used to," Amalthia said without looking at Kaleb's mother.

Shirley struggled to make conversation. "Please understand, Amalthia. I know you and I do not see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. But I also know that my son thinks the world of you, even though I have yet to understand what he sees that I don't."

"And your point, Mrs. Grimwald?"

Shirley could no longer contain her emotions. "Dammit! I still don't understand why my son picked a woman who is as rude and crass as you. If I were a man, I would object to this whole affair before either of you could take your first vows. That's what I would do, Miss Steelblade."

Amalthia shook her head then said in an unemotional tone. "But you are not a man, thank Pyreshot. I would like to like you, Mrs. Grimwald, but what you've presented me so far hasn't given me reason for changing my perception of you."

"So just what is your perception of me, Amalthia?"

"I think you are a woman who is deathly fearful of change. Look. I did not choose to intentionally seek out a human lover. My love for Kaleb just happened. Not everything that we are taught is necessarily the right path. There are some among us, of all races in fact, who travel to the beat of a different drum. Kaleb and I are such people. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner you will feel a greater sense of happiness."

"I am trying to accept this, I really am. It's just so hard knowing that he is giving up his chance of having children who are his own. You are giving up your chance as well. Who's to say if this whole thing wears off you won't go..."

"Stop right there, Mrs. Grimwald. In case you were never informed, I cannot even bear children of my own. A war wound saw to that. Here, I'll show you. I developed an infection in my uterus that all but ruined my reproductive ability." Amalthia promptly lifted up her dress then showed Shirley the small scar that crossed her lower abdomen.

Stunned, Mother Grimwald said nothing as she reached out to touch the scar tissue.

"I... I'm soo sorry. I didn't know... Please forgive me for making such a cruel statement," she began to cry once more.

"Ignorant, yes. Cruel? No." Amalthia lowered her gown then reached out and held her soon-to-be mother-in-law by the shoulders, as she looked her in the face. "I don't hate you Mrs. Grimwald. You raised a fine son and I'm very honored to be his wife. Once you get to know me, I think you may actually grow to like me just a little."

The usher stopped by once more indicating that the ceremony was close at hand. Both Shirley and Amalthia waved him off as the two ladies smiled at each other for the first time.

"Be a good wife to my son, Amalthia."

She looked at her future mother-in-law in the eyes and said in a resolute voice.

"I will."

***

Ulfgar stood at the podium all dressed in his finest regalia. Below him, stood Kaleb who was anxiously waiting for his bride to come down the aisle. To his right stood his best men - Brad, Krenesh, Jestin and Bogo. Their outfits were designed to match in spite of the physical size and proportion difference between human and charr. To Ulfgar's right stood the bridesmaids - Cynthia, Ariyana, Navina and the most unusual of all Tovu.

The aisle was lined with soldiers from both the legions and the Seraph. Each one instructed to hold their swords aloft in criss-cross fashion when the bride walked down the aisle.

Moments later, the final wedding theme began to play. Katie began dropping petals of jasmine and lilac flowers as she walked by followed closely by her older sister, Rachel (who was the ring bearer).

Once the two girls found their places. The ode to the wedding march began. Soldiers from both Seraph and legions drew their blades and meshed them together in staggered formation. Kaleb could see the swords withdrawing as his bride drew closer.

Amalthia strode lightly across the pedal-laden carpeted aisle as the last blade drew back from either side of her. She glanced up at Kaleb then gave him a wink. For his part, Kaleb was awestruck by her beauty. The gown she wore accentuated her best features, and reflected the amalgamation of two vastly different peoples. In spite of his old injuries, Ludrick summoned strength to walk his daughter down the aisle.

She helped hold him steady his gait the entire time until he found his seat at the front row. Once she had helped her father to his seat she stood next to Kaleb as the both of them turned to face Ulfgar.

The old norn smiled upon the bride and groom just as he was about to deliver his sermon.

"Today a legend is born. For today, for the first time in recorded Tyria's history, we are gathered here today to unite two souls from two very different peoples. On this special occasion, a human and a charr will be joined, not in bloody combat with each other, but in sacred matrimony."

Ulfgar turned to Kaleb. "The young man standing before me is one whom I have known since he was a pup. Never have I met a soul who is more good-natured, witty and willing to go the extra mile than this young man. I have seen his courage, his generous heart and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. Kaleb Grimwald was a boy who did not know what his future would be. He was brash, independent and in many cases, foolish. But all that changed when he met the one soul who gave him a purpose."

The old norn then turned to Amalthia. "This young lady is like no charr I've ever met. In spite of her rather small size, she has the heart of a norn. She is bold and completely unafraid to say whatever's on her mind. Only she could tame the heart of the wayward boy whom I've known since he was pup."

Ulfgar gestured for Kaleb and Amalthia to face each other while holding hands. He took the rings from Rachel then handed the first one to Kaleb.

"There are no words, no ceremonies, no rituals that can adequately express what is about to transpire this day."

"Kaleb Grimwald - will you swear to give Amalthia your heart, your soul and keep her well in sickness and in health? Will you be there to comfort her when she is sad or downtrodden? Will you be there to bring joy and happiness into each other's lives? And will you promise to do these things for the rest of your days? What say you, lad?"

"I do," Kaleb said as he looked lovingly into Amalthia's eyes then slid the ring onto her finger.

"Amalthia Steelblade - will you swear to give Kaleb your heart, your soul and keep him well in sickness and in health? Will you be there to comfort him when he is sad or downtrodden? Will you be there to bring joy and happiness into each other's lives? And will you promise to do these things for the rest of your days? What say you, lass?"

"Of course!" She smiled as her ears twitched and she slid the band onto his finger.

"Then by the power vested in me and the Great Raven Spirit, I now pronounce you man and wife."

Ulfgar, then, smiled and said with a wink. "You two know the rest."

Kaleb and Amalthia embraced in a passionate kiss as cheers erupted from the crowd. The old norn waved for the newly married couple to face the audience then announced in his resonating voice.

"Behold, Kaleb and Amalthia Grimwald-Steelblade. May they both share many happy years together!"

Shortly thereafter, both were given plenty of hugs and well wishes by various friends and family. Kaleb, then, grabbed his wife by the hand and said. "You know what comes next, right?"

Amalthia and her new husband said in unison.

"Get toasted!"

(All chapters have been posted to AO3. Chapter 30 is posted here.)

#gw2 fanfiction #tyrias-library #the outliers #guild wars fan fiction #kaleb and amalthia #charr and human #inter-species love

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noreasonjustbored · 5 years

Text

Perception Is Reality

Charlotte didn’t think that her relationship with Henry was out of the ordinary until people started commenting on it. Constantly.

It all started with a nonchalant remark from a stranger.

After midterms were over Henry, Jasper and Charlotte decided to reward themselves on a job probably well done with breakfast from Denny’s. Pancakes could soothe the soul.

As usual, Charlotte sat with Henry on one side of the booth while Jasper sat on the other side alone. After giving their drink orders, Jasper told them that he had to go to the restroom.

When he was gone the waiter brought out their drinks and set down their straws. Charlotte immediately stole Henry’s straw so that she could put it in his drink.

If she didn’t, he would definitely peel off the bottom and blow the wrapper directly at her face. He had been doing it since they were little kids and he once hit her right in the eye. Over the years, Charlotte started taking his straw to prevent it from happening again. It was habit. She didn’t really think about how others would perceive it.

Noticing the interesting quirk between the two of them the waiter said breezily, “Wow, you guys are a gorgeous couple.” To determine why this comment was made so confidently, Char took inventory of their circumstances.

They were sitting closely, pressed together from shoulder to knee, on the same side of the booth. Henry had his left arm draped on the cushion above her shoulder. AND she had just unwrapped a straw and placed it in his cup. That was kind of a weirdly intimate action.

Okay. I see how this looks. Charlotte thought. But before she could tell them that they were just friends, Henry beat her to the punch.

He stammered out an awkward “Thanks, but we’re not- she and I aren’t- uuhhhh” while taking the hand that was previously behind her and using it to rub the back of his neck.

Jasper had been approaching the table when the comment was made and reached them during Henry’s rambled fumbling. “Wait, you guys are together again?” Jasper inquired with a hint of an excitement.

Trying to prevent the moment from dragging on any further, Charlotte spoke up “Not dating. Best friends.” Not her most eloquent, but it got the point across to their server and to their nosy best friend.

The waiter simply let out a quiet, “My mistake” and asked what everyone was having to eat. Jasper grumbled under his breath about them. “Aw man, I thought my ship was sailing again.”

Henry and Charlotte were on the couch in his living room. They had taken a break from studying and were just talking while munching on roasted almonds.

Somehow he had maneuvered so that his head was resting atop Charlotte’s thighs. She absentmindedly carded her fingers through his hair as they discussed any and every thing.

As Charlotte expertly twisted and twirled her fingers through his blond locks Henry closed his eyes and groaned lowly in pleasure.

This is the position they were discovered in an hour later when Siren walked through the front door with groceries. Henry was snoring lightly and Charlotte was now holding a book with one hand and playing in his hair with the other.

“That is so cute!” Henry’s mother whisper-yelled while taking her phone out to snap a photo of the pair.

This caused Charlotte to whip her head in Siren’s direction and then adamantly shake her head in protest. We are not dating! She screamed in her mind. She didn’t want to talk in fear of waking Henry up. He especially needed the rest lately.

Ignoring Charlotte’s fervent head movement, Siren traipsed by them on her way to the kitchen. “Ah, to be young and in love again” she sighed out.

The next time it happened was when they were sitting in the Man Cave one Saturday afternoon binge watching Dog Judge.

Charlotte had gotten her nails professionally manicured because she was going to her aunt’s wedding the next day.

Since it was a special occasion, Charlotte decided to get holographic gel nail polish. It was sort of an iridescent chrome that changed colors when you moved them around.

Henry was fascinated by her nails. Charlotte usually did her own and rarely painted them any other color besides clear. So when he saw her shiny appendages, he just took one of her hands and didn’t give it back.

He first turned her hand this way and that way to see the different hues present. He rubbed his fingers on the digits’ smooth exterior.

Somehow this devolved into him caressing the whole front of her hand, which was super soft by the way, and then flipping her hand over to see if her palm was just as soft. It was. Softer even.

Charlotte let him do this without protest. She didn’t need that hand to eat the popcorn on the table anyway. That’s what her other hand was for. Plus, his touch was very gentle and super relaxing. She didn’t mind his ministrations at all.

Henry took her hand and placed it on top of his to compare sizes. He was intrigued by how much bigger his hand was. He could curl the tops of his fingers over hers, they were so small and dainty.

Then he smoothed their palms together back and forth several times, spearing his fingers between hers a little more on every pass.

Charlotte instinctually completed the interlocking of their fingers when he stopped moving his hand.

Schwoz walked into the ManCave some time later and witnessed the two teens.

“Oh my gosh! You guys are dating!” He declared in his funny accent.

Looking away from the TV monitor, Charlotte and Henry stared at him in confusion.

“What?!” Charlotte asked.

“What are you talking about bro?” Henry wondered.

Instead of responding Schowz just walked closer and gestured at their still clasped palms.

Looking down at what he was referring to, they both jerked their heads back up to glance at each other and then disconnected their digits abruptly. They had forgotten all about that.

“We’re just close.” “This means nothing.” The friends exclaim simultaneously.

He scoffed and then gave them an incredulous look while nodding his head as if to say, Sure I believe you. Not.

The following occurrence where someone mentions their nonexistent relationship is during the weekly movie marathon at Henry’s house.

This week was Henry’s turn to pick the genre and he decided that it was a horror/suspense kind of night. Charlotte was not amused.

She was fine during Us and Get Out because she had seen them both before. Now came time for the truly scary stuff. They had just finished Halloween, which wasn’t too bad and now they were starting Annabelle: Creation.

Henry was sitting next to her on the couch in his room, seemingly unaffected, while she peeked through her hands and shrieked a little at every jump scare.

At one particularly horrifying part, Charlotte turned to hide her face into Henry’s shoulder while he just chuckled and smoothly placed his arm around her lower back.

Char was becoming increasingly jumpy as the night wore on. At one point, she gripped Henry’s arm so hard that it left little red indentations that took a few minutes to fade.

Henry kept pulling her closer and closer every time she got scared until she was practically in his lap. Scratch that, he observed, she was ACTUALLY in his lap.

When did that happen? Henry pondered as Charlotte buried her face in his neck. She was slightly trembling and taking harsh breaths that tickled against his clavicle.

He could feel his heartbeat pick up speed from the close contact, the scary movie playing a few feet away not eliciting the same response.

“Henry! I am NOT okay!” Piper yelled while bursting into his room without knocking and cutting off his train of thought.

Frightened by the noise, Henry pushed Charlotte’s body off of his suddenly which caused her to fall onto the ledge of his stairs.

“Dude! What the heck!?!” Charlotte angrily questions.

“Sorry! It was a reflex!” Henry responds while reaching out a hand to help her up.

Piper watched their interaction curiously. “Why are you so spastic bro? No one cares if you make out with your girlfriend.”

Sighing, Henry and Charlotte sit back down next to each other on the couch.

“Would you believe me if I said we were just friends?”

“After what I just saw? No, I would not.” Piper says.

“Figures.” Charlotte mumbles.

One day they were in the Man Cave researching their latest Big Bad. Charlotte was at the monitors diligently looking through their database for clues while Henry got food from the Auto Snacker.

Sitting down with his meal, Henry called her to join him and told her to go back to the evidence later. She had been at it for hours.

“Just a sec. I’m onto something here.”

“Okay but you’re missing out on these cheesy, delicious nachos.”

“I can order my own when I’m done.”

Not finding any flaws in that logic, Henry scarfed down his food. Man was I hungry.

Pushing the empty plate aside, he looked up and realized that Charlotte had not moved from her spot the whole time he was eating.

Letting out a tiny groan of frustration that she was still working, he stood up and walked over.

“Charlotte!”

“Hm?”

“You’re supposed to be having dinner right now.”

“I will. In a minute.”

Henry leaned over the back of her chair and reached over her shoulders to pry her hands from the touchpad. He clasped their hands together to prevent her from going back to it.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah ok. Just another moment” she said while struggling to release her hands from his grip.

Henry spoke directly into her ear. “Nope. Your time is up. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder.”

A tingle went down Charlotte’s spine at his words and their proximity. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me” he whispered.

Charlotte gave him a defiant look out of the corner of her eye, freed her hands and crossed her arms over her chest tightly.

Before she knew it, he had spun her chair around and swiftly picked her up into his arms bridal style.

Wrapping her arms around his neck for more support, Charlotte looked up at his face to see him smirking down at her.

“I hate you” she said with no malice in her voice.

“I love you too” Henry replied while taking her to the auto-snacker.

Ray came out of the elevator to see Charlotte in Henry’s arms with her hand on the auto-snacker screen demanding chocolate ice cream.

“Food. I said food Char.”

“Ice Cream is food. The best kind of food at that.”

“Whatever” he conceded. “As long as you eat something.”

“Eh-hem” someone cleared his throat.

Henry looked over his shoulder while Charlotte grabbed her treat and dug in.

“Sweets for the sweethearts?”

She lifted her gaze from her bowl at the statement and saw Ray standing there with an extremely wide, knowing smile.

Henry walked to the table and sat down, causing her to be relocated onto his legs.

Quickly scooting off of his lap with her dessert, Charlotte says in a flat tone “We are not sweethearts.”

“What she said.”

“Well you could’ve fooled me.” Ray airily answers while walking through the sprocket door.

More and more instances popped up where people gave their unsolicited commentary on the friend’s interactions. Everyone thought that they were a couple and the two hardly lasted a day without someone saying something.

Another occasion was when the teens were at school. They were both tired because they had snuck out late the night before to handle a crime alert at the ManCave.

Ray and Henry ended up losing the criminals due to a stroke of bad luck. Someone had left marbles in an alleyway that the heroes were cutting through to catch up to the thieves.

Ray slipped on the marbles and cracked his head against the pavement. Henry tripped over him. The bad guys escaped.

It was 3 AM when they made it back. After they returned, Henry transformed and then promptly knocked out on the circle couch.

Char stayed up later than everyone trying to get a lead on a possible next target that the villains would hit. She didn’t fall asleep until after the sun rose in the sky. It was safe to say that she was exhausted.

Standing at her locker, Charlotte gathered her materials slowly, yawning near constantly. They still had 15 minutes before class started.

When Henry got all the stuff he needed, he journeyed over to his best friend.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

“Terribly” she moaned out while rubbing the back of neck.

“Got a kink from sleeping at the console?”

“Yep. Several. Plus I have a test first period. Today is not my day.”

Moving her hand out of the way, Henry places his hands on her neck and gently massages away the tension there.

She lets out a long, shuddering breath and gives a soft moan when he hits a particularly tense area. He grins in satisfaction.

“Thank you Hen.” Charlotte says after a few minutes, cueing him to stop.

“No problem” he replies while stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulls her back flush against his body.

Closing the still ajar locker door, she rotates her head to meet his gaze. “What are you doing?”

“Letting you relax” came the simple reply as he flipped around and leaned them both against her locker. Charlotte using his body as a cushion.

Instead of resisting, she just melted more heavily into him, her head dropping back to rest on his chest.

They stayed like this for the remaining ten minutes before homeroom. Eyes closed and Henry’s arms still surrounding her, providing a blanket of comfort and warmth that she didn’t want to leave.

Reluctantly extracting herself from his grip when the bell rang, Charlotte turned to face Henry.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better” she nodded.

He studied her face for a few lingering seconds and thought about everything they had been through together. All the things they had done. All things they would do.

She thought about how comfortable they were with each other, how tactile. How a simple touch from Henry could calm her entire nervous system like nothing else could.

How she knew the same was true for him.

She concluded that they were practically dating already, just without the label.

Taking a deep breath, they continued to stare at each other.

Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes.”

Ms. Shapen broke the spell, walking past them and screaming at their fellow students.

“Come on Lovebirds!” she called out to them specifically.

“We’re coming!” they reply at the same time.

“Jinx.” they say together again and smile.

This time, the assumption was correct.

#Charlotte Page #Henry Hart #Charlotte Bolton #Kid Danger #Chenry #Henry Danger #Riele Downs #Jace Norman #Jasper Dunlop #Ray Manchester #Schowz Schwartz #Piper Hart #Siren Hart #Nickelodeon

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disresemble-the-place · 4 years

Note

The first one was great! Can you do Wheezy next?

Aye I can!

Smarty’s is on AO3 for easy reading

He hadn’t been in this country for long.. in fact, it was only 2 weeks.

Honestly he thought he would feel liberated. That he finally could spread his wings, away from it all. But instead he felt more grounded than ever. Turns out this wasn’t the land of opportunity after all. Maybe if you were a funny one.. or a cute one. But for people like him? No dice.

It didn’t take long for him to end up downtown. Never much of a drinker but he good appreciate the bar crowd. Drunk people were something.. but at least they were honest. Plus they didn’t mind him smoking.

Most people smoked more than one cigarette at the time, so to blend in with the locals he did the same. He noticed that he looked different though. Not only was his fur a far different color, he was also taller than most.

Which eventually pissed someone off. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight, hell he was trying to avoid it.. but when the other took a swing at him, he hit him right in the jaw and broke it.

People saw.. and people talk. He feared for his life. While he didn’t know the details he knew that most weasels belonged to the Monroe family. And what a happy family it was from the stories. If you lay your hands on one of them, you could expect to be down in the dirty not long later.

The first thing he did was find some paper, he needed to write a letter to his family back home. “Didn’t make it. Don’t mourn me.” Swift, short, easy. He didn’t sleep, his eyes were already bloodshot from the new extreme smoking habit but there were even more red now. He was panicking but tried to not let it show.

Finding a post office was next. Which proved almost impossible. Before he could find one he was grabbed by two others. They were shorter and if he fought he could probably get free but it would only delay his death. Instead he went limp and let them drag him away.

He got two surprises that day;

One; Downtown had some nice places after all. The place he was brought too was a nice mansion type with a well kept garden and various rooms.

Two; He was still alive.

There were a few others in the room, but his eyes were mostly focussed on the one in front of him.

An older weasel, maybe his own dad’s age. It was hard to tell. While his fur was kept it was a little wilder than the other’s. He also seemed to have various scars all over his body which he tried to hide by combing his fur over it. It seems he was missing a tooth and didn’t bother to get a fake one. The outfit he was wearing made him look even more intimidating. While most others wore some splash of color he wore black from head to toe. Except from a golden wedding band on one of his fingers.

“I heard you beat up one of my men?” The voice was more pleasant than he expected, almost fatherly.

“I didn’t mean too..” Why did his voice sound so wheezy? It suddenly occurred that he hasn’t been speaking much since he arrived. “He tried to attack me and I got lucky and got a punch in.”

The other raised an eyebrow. “No.” He simply said. “You didn’t get lucky. You got skill.”

Somehow this filled him with pride. Back home he was taught to solve all conflict with words. Side effect of being a preacher’s son. He was scolded whenever he fought and yelled at whenever he offered solving something with violence.

“T.. thank you.”

“I’m Mateo. Current leader of the Monroe family. We mostly run this place. And by we, I mean I do. As long as I want you to be safe, you’re safe.”

Why was he telling him all this? Some build up to torture?

“I have children. The oldest will hopefully take my place when I have outlived my usefulness. But I fear he’s not ready yet. Too hot headed.. to smart ass-y..”

Oh god was he going to ask him to beat up his son!? He felt a bead of sweat rolling down his neck and into his shirt, which he also only now realised he hasn’t washed in a 2 weeks. He showered, sure but he hadn’t found a place to do laundry yet.

“But- where are my manners? What is your name?”

“Luka..”

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“No sir.”

“And that’s why you’re perfect..” Mateo smiled, now it was even more obvious he was missing a tooth. “No one here will truly stand up to my kid. They’re all afraid I’m going to hurt them. Which to their credit, I might.” He explained. “He knows this and abuses this power by being as annoying as possible. Which leads to me ‘firing’ them.” Luka didn’t really like the air quotes on that. “Which leads to him being himself, ruthless.. but entitled. I know i am to blame for this.. But I need this place to be in capable hands. Do you see where I am going with this?”

Luka shook no, better to be honest than to get in over your head.

“He needs a bodyguard. One that can teach him a thing or two about life. I want you to do that.”

He didn’t even give him the option to say no.

Mateo proved to be a man of his word. The next day he was introduced to the heir of the family and what a brat it was. He wore a pink suit with an obnoxious diamond on it. His fur was neatly kept and his nails clipped. His teeth were shiny and clean and he smelled like soap. Luka wondered if the kid has ever been outside. He looked to be in mint condition.

That alone didn’t make him a brat. No it was the temper tantrum he threw. He had seen one once before. Years ago when his brother was little.. Pretty sure his brother was 3 then.

After he stormed off, Mateo ordered him to follow him and not leave his side.

He didn’t want to open the door. Of course.

Now the door wasn’t locked. But he respected the other’s privacy after being denied entrance.

Luka sighed. Somehow being dead seemed like the better option. He eyed a vase in the hallway, maybe if he knocked it over he would still meet his end. He threw his head back and let himself slide to the floor. Maybe he would fall asleep like this. Even if he did the door opening behind him would wake him up.

After a few hours the door did indeed open and he fell backwards, he indeed had fallen asleep but like he hoped, the door shook him awake.

“Hòigh..” Luka said after fully recovering from his nap.

“Why are you still here.”

God even his voice sounded bratty. Though it wasn’t without it’s charm..

“Contract says I have to..”

“You could quit.” He couldn’t. He knew quitting would mean death. Maybe the other was playing with him. So he played back. “Can’t.. stand out too much.” He gestured towards is own body.

“Yeah that’s your personal problem.” The smaller one tried to move past him and Luka felt his blood boil. Was this kid always this annoying? He reacted by putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him against the wall. He was pretty sure he caught the other blushing.

“Don’t make this hard.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

“Don’t act like one.”

That struck a nerve. Luka was fighting a smile. He couldn’t help but find the other adorable. This was probably one of the first time someone said no to him and he didn’t know how to cope.

“Come again?”

“I said.. don’t act like a child.”

“I just want to do my job. I need to be around you. That’s it.” Though that was turning into something of a lie. This little one before him was quite the entertaining one. He wouldn’t object to being around him. Especially if he could put him in his place.

“I.. I’m not acting like a child.” A pouting face looked good on him.

“You are.”

“Explain.” He was pretty sure the other was trying to channel is father. Like a toddler wanting to help around the house and pretending to vacuum.

“You are a spoiled child who knows nothing of the world. You think you’re the absolute best at anything and everything but deep down you’re insecure. You barely have any real friends as most of them are afraid of your daddy and you know it but you deny it. You think you can handle big boy stuff but you go a tantrum when things don’t go your way. You’re not ready for anything yet.”

Oh.. that was way too far.. A wave of pity fell over him as he looked into the other’s eyes. “That was.. too far. I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re right.”

There was hope for the spoiled one after all.

After he got the drink he wanted, they returned to the room. It was a nice room. Bigger than his house back home. He walked around and pretended to look outside. But inside he thought about the other on the bed. Sure he was a brat but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. While he was raised by strict parents.. he never had the pressure of having to be the heir to the family empire.

And disappointment.. he knew what that was. Neither his mom or dad was found of the decisions he made. And then there was the one on the bed. The pink one.. Pinky.. He wanted to impress his father so much but his father won’t give him a smidge of a chance.

Sure, his job title was bodyguard, but Luka felt it was more of a baby sitter’s job.

Luka noticed the other shift his weight around and realised he had been quiet for a while.

“Where i am from.. we got an even prettier sky. I guess that’s a thing i miss.”

“You aren’t homesick..?”

“Not really. I mean sure. I miss them a little. But they were okay with life. I wasn’t. Being discriminated against all day every day gets tired fast, ya know?”

“And now you’re here..”

“Gotta be somewhere.”

“Yeah but a being a body guard..?”

“I was told it was a babysitting job. So imagine my surprise when I found out the baby’s age.”

He watched the other puff up and get all red from blushing. He couldn’t help it. He had fought it for so long, he had to let it out; a hearty laugh.

“Easy, wee one.. I’m joking.” He said with a wink.

“Gonna be a boring job though. Not much happens..”

“I disagree. I find you.. wildly interesting.” Not a lie. Not even a little. There was something about the other that drew Luka to him. Though he couldn’t quite place it.

The realisation came a few days later. With Mateo’s permission Luka took the Pink one out to the market. Nothing too big, just a fun outing. Luka figured if he was going to learn about this world, he should experience it.

He had looked scared and even shook a little when they went to the market at the other side of town. Weasels weren’t shunned there but the family had less power in these parts. Meaning that no one would treat his boss differently. Which is precisely what Luka wanted.

He watched him dart around the place like a child on a sugar high. As he paid for the fruit they were out to get he knew what he was feeling. The strong desire to protect him. To care for him. To love him.

#Anonymous #wheezy #smarty #mateo #oh he has a tag now #wfrr #who framed roger rabbit #toon patrol #yeah some text is like literally copy and pasted from yesterday's story #BUT I'M TRYING NEW THINGS

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter two

hey guys, here’s chapter two of LYIALG! won’t make this too long, i just hope that everyone had a great thanksgiving (or just a great thursday to lots of you!) and i hope you guys like this chapter. it’s probably a bit boring, but... hey, i write, i decide lol. if anyone is confused, this story takes place after 5x24, but before the merger.

~*~

"i'm still fixing all the cracks"

~*~

"yeah. fuck."

____

the two sit in silence for god know how long. now matter how many times they go over it in their minds, it's still unbelievable to them, they cheated on their spouses. who the hell does that? who simply decides that who they married wasn't worth it and screws the first person they find attractive once they're alone? horrible people, that's who, and that's what they felt like right now. horrible freaking people.

at this point they weren't even sure why they were still in the room together. maybe it was the fact that they could dwell in their acts of adultery together, maybe they just found the presence of the other just enough to fill the void of loneliness that had never seemed to leave them, no matter what they did or who they were with. all they knew was that simply sitting there, on the cold tile floor multiple feet apart, made what they did a little more bearable for themselves, seeing the other look just as miserable about it as they did.

"we're horrible people." brooke mutters, mustering up the courage to sit and stand up groggily from her fetal position on the floor. she turns on the faucet and ducks her head under it, collecting the water in her mouth before swishing it around and then spitting it into the sink, leaving her mouth to feel much better than it did before, thanks to the fact that remnants of beer and tequila no longer seemed to coat the roof of her tongue and mouth.

"yeah, we are." alex agrees. it was the first time the girl had truly listened to him speak, and he had a deep voice, a bit of a gruffness behind it, but that might just be because of the hangover. she takes a good look at the guy, since she didn't have the opportunity to earlier.

he only had on a pair of boxers before he entered the bathroom and was currently the same now, but other than that he was completely bare. he was well built with a six pack and nice arm muscles. his eyes were a dark brown with a hint of green, and he had a sharp jawline. his hair was cut short, and he had a barely-there stubble on his face. a shiny gold wedding band sat on his left ring finger, which he fiddled with unconsciously.

brooke opens and closes her mouth a few times, nothing seeming to come out for a good minute. "did- did we think that we were our partners? maybe?" she suggests lamely, not missing the way the guy she now knew as alex scanned over her briefly.

"definitely not." he mutters, huffing out a breath as he leans back against the wall, one knee to his chest as the other lays straight out in front of him. "my wife is tall, blonde, and has dark brown eyes. you're like... the complete opposite of her."

"sounds like a model." brooke mumbles, a small smile on her face, attempting to crack a joke to ease the situation. oh who the fuck was she kidding? there was no way to ease this situation.

"she was. in med school, i mean. did a bunch of bethany whisper stuff." alex shrugs, missing the way the girl's jaw practically drops.

"damn." she mutters. she looks at alex a bit more, squinting her eyes at him, which doesn't go unnoticed by the man.

he turns and looks sharply at her, "what?" he gruffs out, trying his best to intimidate the younger woman, but to his surprise she doesn't even flinch. it was like she was used to sudden behavior changes.

brooke lips her lips, trying her best to form her thoughts as complete sentences. "you don't even really, i mean- you don't look like my husband... you just- look like my type." she settles on.

alex smirks the slightest bit, "your type?" he teases lightly, making fun of the way she sounded a bit like a middle school girl gossiping about the new boy in the english class.

she glares at him, "shut up."

she wasn't lying though, the man was her type. and by her type she meant dark hair and dark eyes. but she supposed that also meant over half of the male population, so she wouldn't consider him all that special.

alex chuckles softly, not trying to make his headache any worse than it was. he peers through the bathroom doorway, glancing at the clock on the hotel's nightstand, doing a double take after he turns around for a second time, hoping he was just seeing things wrong.

"shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." he curses out, abruptly standing up from his place on the floor, pulling brooke up with him. she lets out a groan in protest at the quick moment, but ultimately makes her way back into the room.

alex starts shoving on his jeans, looking at brooke as he does so. "you're here for the pre-med conference right?" he asks, making her nod.

"well, so am i, and my mentor needs me to help her with her speech and all that crap at nine thirty, and right now it's nine eighteen. and she goes on at nine forty-five" he says, making her nod. she still didn't quite get why that involved her though.

noticing her confusion he speaks up, "my mentor is arizona robbins." he says simply, making the girl go wide eyed.

"holy shit." she whispers. no way in hell would she wouldn't go to a lecture by the arizona robbins, who was practically a pediatric surgeon god.

alex nods, "yeah, and i'm guessing you don't want to miss that." he states, making the girl bob her head up and down.

"y-yeah, thank you." she stutters out, going to her suitcase and quickly grabbing an outfit while she internally thanks the universe that they ended up back in her room at the end of the night and not his.

she hears the door to the hotel room open and him start to leave, before the footsteps stop, causing her to turn around. "i just want to say..." he trails off, ignoring his internal arguments from earlier, "i'm sorry. i'm really sorry, and if this is making you feel even half as guilty as i am... then i'm even more sorry." he says sympathetically, not missing the way her eyes fill with tears.

"don't be." she whispers, watching as the man nods and shuts the door behind him.

it was then she started to let the tears fall.

god, guilty.

that's all she was able to feel.

she felt guilty that she cheated on her husband. she felt guilty that she helped the man cheat on his wife. she felt guilty that she found the man she cheated with attractive. she felt guilty that alex apologized for what happened as if it was his fault. because it was her fault right? that's what paul would say.

he would say that it was her fault, which... it made sense that it was right? right. because that's what paul would say. she learned not to question him over the past year, the look in his eyes that he got when she would say something 'wrong' was a bit scary to her, but she shrugged it off every time, since the little flame always disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

but the guilt. oh, it was horrible. it was coursing through her veins like a rapid river, having no sense of direction as it splashed inside of brooke, coating her skin and organs in its treacherous layer of pain.

who knew feeling guilty could be so painful? she didn't. she had no idea what to do. was she supposed to tell paul? to tell her husband that she broke their sacred vows after only being married for three months? she loved him, oh, she loved him so much. he was so charming and sweet and looked at her like she was a beautiful rose, blooming fresh out of the ground. how was she supposed to let the man she loved know that she cheated? gone would be the way he looked at her like the reddest rose in the garden, and instead he would look at her like she had just told him that his father had died. no, she couldn't do that.

maybe it was selfish, actually, she knew it was selfish. because telling him would only be a way to make herself feel less guilty, but at the same time, not telling him was also selfish. it would be selfish in the way that she didn't want to see him hurt. how could she bear to see him hurt? after everything, she couldn't hurt him. he gave her food, a house, nice clothes, gifts, love. he gave her everything, she couldn't hurt him.

so she decided then, paul wouldn't know. it would be a secret, a secret that she knew for a fact would eat her up alive, but she knew it would be better than telling him. he'd been getting angrier lately, and she knew it was probably just a phase, but it was a phase she wasn't really liking much so far. she assumed that that's what happened after you get married. you are finally able to show all of the good, the bad, and the ugly. but it's okay, she can deal with a bit of ugly. that's what marriage is for anyways, sticking by your partner through everything.

she shakes it off. no matter how badly she felt, paul couldn't know. it was a one time thing. it would never happen again. she would never see this man again. it was a one time thing.

____

alex karev walked out of the room with his head down low, focusing on leather shoes he spent a crap ton of money on. he felt guilty. his wife had cancer and was currently in remission, and all he can do is go off and screw someone.

but he felt guilty for cheating on his wife, and for finding the woman that he cheated with hot. that was the worst feeling of all. that after everything she was just as attractive to him as she would've been if he wasn't married. how messed up was that?

he wasn't this guy anymore. he had hardly looked any other woman's way since he had been with izzie. how could he? she was perfect. she was beautiful and kind and funny. and he loved her. so how could he just throw all that away like it was nothing?

but he knew he couldn't tell her. she didn't deserve the pain that it would bring her. she had been through enough in her life. she had just beat cancer for god's sake, with a five percent chance of survival! she was so fucking strong. he admired izzie. she fought like hell and she pulled through. she didn't deserve to take another hit. especially not one front the husband who promised to love her and stay loyal to her through everything.

for better or worse. in sickness and in health. thats what the vows were right? so why the hell couldn't he do one god damn thing in his life right? why couldn't he keep the most important promise to the woman he loved? was he really that screwed up? was he really that terrible? why did he always have to screw himself out of everything good? and this time, he literally screwed himself out of it.

alex shrugs off his thoughts as he makes his way to his room on the seventh floor, quickly taking a shower and brushing his teeth, styling his hair to the best of his ability with the small amount of gel he had left, he made a mental note to pick some up when he got back to seattle. he made sure to use extra deodorant and the tiniest hint of a cologne he had for special occasions, the last thing he needed was robbins smelling any leftover alcohol on him. he would never get on her good side then.

he changes into a pair of black slacks and a button up white shirt. he tries to put on a dark blue tie but ultimately gives up after a multitude of half assed attempts, shoving it into his pocket gruffly. usually meredith did them for him.

he grumbles something incoherently under his breath as he grabs his phone from his nightstand, where he plugged it into charge a few minutes before. he shoves the device into his pocket as he makes his way out the door, immediately bumping into the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

"karev!" arizona chirps, her voice not only happy and cheerful, but loud too, making alex internally wince. he didn't need more loud noises right now, he had just popped a couple of aspirins and was still waiting for them to kick in.

but still, he forces a crooked half smile, "hey robbins." alex knew he needed to be on her good side. he had been getting really interested in peds lately, but arizona didn't think he would be good in it, meaning she was still skeptical. but he loved it. it was so... intense. and hardcore. heartbreaking, at times, of course. nothing was worse than losing a child patient, but that only made the successes that much more valuable.

with peds, he felt something. he liked to get to know his patients and make up random handshakes with them. but he didn't like kids though. don't think he did. he definitely didn't. he just admired those kids in the peds ward. they were all fighters in a fun sized package, and don't even get him started on the babies in the NICU.

those were the hardest fighters in the hospital, no question there. these tiny little lives battled so hard, they fought their absolute hardest from the second they were born, and for that, he had to admire them. how could he not?

the point was that he needed robbins to like him. actually, he really needed robbins to like him, because she was the best, and he wanted to learn from the best. he would do everything he possibly could to make sure he became the surgeon he wanted to be, the surgeon he left iowa to be. he practically had to beg robbins to let him join her, but that was okay, he didn't mind. he was determined. normally a fellow would be chosen to do lectures like these, but the blonde decided that she wanted to have a resident come with her this time, since they had been in med-school no too long ago. she wanted someone who could still relate to the pupils on a personal level.

arizona takes a glance over at him, her eyes narrowing at him a bit, "you look like crap." she deadpans.

alex purses his lips and runs a hand through his hair, temporarily forgetting that he had gel in it, which causes his finger to get stuck in a strand, making him wince as he pulls it through. "didn't sleep too well."

which was a lie. which made him feel guilty. he didn't necessarily feel guilty about lie, he felt guilty that his lie wasn't true. which he supposed, was the point of a lie... but still. the truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept that well.

he shakes off his thoughts, thanking the universe the arizona looked to believe him and gives him a nod of understanding before she rattles on about her speech.

it was a one time thing. it would never happen again. he would never see this woman again. it was a one time thing.

____

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satans-helper · 5 years

Text

No More Distance

Pairing: Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word count: 1672

Warnings: none

This is for my dear @jeordinevankiszka <3 It’s loosely based off the romantic plot from the film Lagaan, which I highly recommend you watch. You can watch the scene & listen to the song that inspired this oneshot here.

You had been waiting for Danny to show up to the loud, extravagantly colorful Indian wedding but he still caught you off guard when he arrived, his tall, built figure cascaded in shiny, deep violet silk. He was still wearing his own necklaces but they were half-hidden beneath the gold-stitched collar of his kurta and he ran his hand through his thick, dark hair, looking around and seemingly unsure of himself. He looked like a prince.

You looked down at your own dress--well, it was really an anarkali suit--that had taken you months of shopping to find for the wedding. You and Danny could have been matching perfectly if only your dress had been detailed with gold instead of silver, but the brilliant violet hue of the fabric was nearly identical to his. You liked what you were wearing--you really did feel like a princess even if it wasn’t your wedding--but you sort of hoped that Danny was as uncomfortable in the attire as you were.

The music was loud--the trumpets, sitars and drums vibrating through your ears--and it was made to seem louder by the varied conversations inside the venue, the high ceilings only making the echoes worse. Danny didn’t seem to know you were there yet so you tried to get closer, grabbing a glass of wine and meandering from group to group. You really didn’t know many people there so when Danny had told you he was coming, you had felt an enormous sense of relief.

But also sadness. You loved Danny. He didn’t love you though. You never had the courage to tell him that you loved him, you just always hoped he somehow knew from the way you looked at him and the way you touched him. You’d always hoped it was obvious.

You loved Danny desperately--you loved the way that he squeezed your hand when you went to movies together, especially the scary ones; how he always knew what to say to make you feel safe; the way he made you laugh even when there was nothing all that funny happening; how easy he was to talk to and how much he really cared.

Your heart sank as you watched from across the venue, the wine already growing warm in your hand. Danny was with someone, another young woman dressed in vibrant yellow silk, her hair in one long braid that trailed down her upper back. They were laughing--she put her hand on his arm, he ran his finger down the length of silver on the neckline of her dress. They looked happy together.

The sight prompted you to swallow the rest of your wine in one go. You felt like you should have expected Danny to be with someone else--why wouldn’t he have a date to a wedding? He was about as close to perfect as any man would ever be.

The reception then seemed like a total bust. You sat down at a table by yourself and slumped a little, aware that you were being very cliche in your sadness but too sad to do anything else. You sipped at another glass of wine as your eyes searched for Danny again. He caught your gaze and smiled before moving toward you.

You sat up straight, smoothing out the dress and tried not to look so pathetic.

“Hey,” Danny said, then in front of you, taking it upon himself to slide out the chair next to you and sit down. His face was a little shiny thanks to the increasingly stuffy space and hideously hot August air that provided no relief. He brushed some hair away from his face and you noticed the grey feather earrings--you didn’t know what bird they would be from.

“Hi,” you said. You weren’t sure what to expect. At that point you weren’t even sure what you wanted.

“I was hoping to find you,” Danny said. “I would’ve said hi earlier but I actually missed most of the ceremony.”

“I’m surprised. Usually you’re on time for everything,” you replied, smiling, already feeling your walls being broken down just by him next to you. You didn’t like that--being upset was easier.

Danny smiled back. “I know. I was struggling with the outfit,” he said, glancing down at himself. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” you said, too quickly. “It looks great.”

“Thanks. Yours too. We’re almost matching.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot. “I thought the same thing when I saw you.”

Danny sighed and looked around the room before turning his attention back to you. “You wanna go outside for a minute? Walk around?”

You hesitated but said, “Sure.”

The air outside may have been hot as hell but it was still a relief from being trapped inside the venue. You blinked against the light, the evening sun setting beyond the grassy slopes, as you and Danny walked side by side.

There was more silence until Danny said, “You didn’t bring anyone.”

You felt an ache in your chest. “Was I supposed to?”

Danny shrugged. “I guess I’m just surprised.”

The ache persisted. “Are you?”

“Or were you looking to meet someone here?”

Clearly going outside had been a mistake. What was he getting at? You looked down at the grass beneath your silver slippers. “No, not really. I see you brought someone.”

Danny nodded and his ambivalence only made you hurt more. “Yeah, I did.”

You couldn’t do it. “I hate this,” you declared, stopping in your tracks, and turned to face him.

“Hate what?”

“Whatever this is. The questions. What do you want from me?”

Danny just stared at you.

“During the ceremony I just kept thinking, what if that were us?” You exhaled and kicked a pebble away from you.

“What do you mean?” Danny finally asked.

You sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” Danny replied slowly. “I need you to say it, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “I’m not gonna say it. I can’t handle it.”

Danny took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “What would you have said if I had asked you to be my date?”

He was just being ridiculous then but you still squeezed his hand. “I would’ve said yes, you idiot.”

Danny held your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Then I should’ve asked you.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked quietly, watching his eyes return to yours as he lowered your hand.

“I couldn’t handle it either.”

You had nothing to lose then. “Isn’t it obvious how much I love you?”

A flush of red tinted Danny’s cheeks. “Wasn’t it obvious how much I loved you?” He took your other hand. “Still do.”

You felt your face flush too as your heart thumped in your chest. “You do?”

Danny freed your hands to embrace you, pulling you against his chest with his hand flat against your back as the other reached to stroke your hair. “I love you, Y/N.”

As he leaned in to kiss you, you turned your head so his lips landed on your hair. “Danny, wait,” you said, hooking your arms around the back of his neck. “Can we dance?”

“I can’t dance,” Danny replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Neither can I, don’t you remember?”

He laughed. “Okay.”

With the music still reverberating from inside it felt your own personal, distant stage, just the two of you on the grass and the beat vibrating around you. You kept your arms around Danny’s neck as he laid his hands on your waist, taking the lead and having you sway with him. You felt a little awkward--as if your past attempts hadn’t been enough, dancing under the sun at a wedding was enough to make both of you sure: neither of you had much grace.

Still, you moved your hips a little more, gently speeding up and moving your feet, causing Danny to follow your movements. The song ended and a fast-paced dance song commenced and you thought Danny would stop, but he released his hands from your waist and took hold of yours, coercing you to move freely with the music.

You weren’t quite sure how to move around to the song but you tried, going with instinct, following the beat and letting the jubilance of the song overtake you until Danny himself fueled you. He was following you awkwardly, mimicking some of your hip flicks, and you laughed--really laughed. You threw your head back, your mouth open as the air escaped your lungs, the joy you had wanted for so long finally a reality.

You pulled Danny into you, bumping your hip against his thigh. “You really can’t dance, can you Danny?”

Danny smiled. “I told you.” He touched the silver elephant earrings dangling next to your cheek with his fingertips, his eyes moving from them to your lips, his own lips parting slightly.

You stroked the feathers hanging from his ears, untangling a few strands of his hair from them and waited for him to look in your eyes again.

“Will you kiss me now?” you asked and is dark lashes fluttered as he gazed at you.

Danny nodded and gently took your jaw in his hand, tilting his head down. He pressed his lips to yours so softly that it almost felt like no contact at all until you laid your hand against his chest and he parted his lips again. You reciprocated, letting your lips mesh with his, your fingers trailing down the silk that covered him.

Your heart quivered as did your hands against him--you had waited a long time for that kiss.

For the first time, you truly saw the admiration and love you had craved in Danny’s eyes when he broke away. “My life would be nothing without you,” he said, running his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t ever want to be without you,” you said, clasping his hands. “I don’t want anymore distance between us.”

Danny smiled. “No more distance,” he agreed and kissed you once more, sending your heart fluttering all over again.

#my prince #danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #danny x reader #gvf #greta van fleet #gvf imagine #fluff #angst #fanfic #greta van fan fiction

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