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3d-wifey · 5 months

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And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 11

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 8.3k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn A/N: LADIES N GENTLEMEN, THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! there are multiple POV changes in this, I'm training yall for the arena and Mockingjay. FYI: I was so disheartened bc this felt like the worst past I've written for this story :(((

Past (xii) - Finnick

[ 21 & 22] - DISTRICT FOUR

Finnick is sitting at his desk, probably looking as worn out and exhausted as he feels. It’s the early hours of the morning, and he hasn’t slept for the past two days. He’s been writing for hours, trying to find the right words to say. The sun had just set when he poured himself into the seat, and now, he glances to his left, the first tendrils of sunlight are peaking up.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of Finnick's labored breathing. His hands are shaking, a side effect of the stress that has been building inside him like a pressure cooker. Snow's visit has left him reeling, unable to process the implications of the deal he's been forced to make. He knows he has to write you a letter, but the thought fills him with a sense of despondency. Something that normally fills him with insurmountable excitement and anticipation fills him with devastation. It feels like, like…there’s nothing he can compare it to. Not everything feels like something else and Finnick knows this kind of grief is very rarely experienced.

What is he supposed to do? He hasn’t opened the last letter you sent, knowing it will be the last one that won’t carry the weight of mourning. He knows that you'll write to him again, that you won’t take this lying down. You’ll write and write, and he will...he will do nothing.

It sits in front of him, innocuous and unassuming. Something devastating folded in a green envelope and wrapped in your scent like a well-dressed bomb. Does his fear outweigh his longing for you?

He picks it up, holding it gingerly in his hands.

No, he realizes, it doesn’t.

He’s careful to tear the seal on the flap and your perfume wafts up like a surprise. He takes a deep breath, savoring the scent, trying to steel himself for what comes next.

Dear Finn,

I feel like I’ve missed you longer than I’ve had the chance to know you. It's been three months now, but maybe by the time this letter gets to you, we'll both be on our way to the Capitol. I'm working on being more optimistic, but that uphill battle is becoming steeper the longer I'm away from you.

I keep thinking about when I first met you. When I looked into your eyes, I didn't see fireworks exploding or any of that other shit they depict in those gaudy Capitol romance novels. I looked into your eyes and saw you, something far more breathtaking than fireworks. And what a sight you were.

Three years back, you said something I never agreed with, that it was hard to love you. At the moment, I didn’t get to say what I really wanted to because I was eighteen and the thought of being so emotionally vulnerable made my teeth itch.

I wanted to say that you aren't hard to love. I wanted to say loving you has been the easiest thing I have ever done. And that's why it was so difficult. I could never let myself love you—let myself have you because how could I possibly deserve to? But that’s the kicker. It’s not hard to love you, Finn, it’s impossible not to.

Something happened recently that made me realize that I’m not the most forthcoming person when it comes to my feelings. But, Finn, know that my love for you is never in doubt. How I feel about you may be complex, but it’s not complicated. I love you desperately, humanly, simply. Without even trying, you peel me back to my core, but if you only dug a little deeper you’d find your picture framed and hanging along the walls of my soul.

I miss you, more than I was prepared to—and I was prepared to miss you considerably.

We may not be next to each other, but we’re under the same sky, and each glowing point on that backdrop of black is a star—a sun at the center of someone’s solar system.

In some other universe, on a different Earth, there’s a girl in love with a boy whose freckles run like constellations. On another, there’s a girl who’s in love with how her boy’s eyes squint when he smiles.

That's the one constant. There are billions of stars, billions of universes, and I love you in every one of them.

Tears are blurring his vision before he can read how you close the letter and he has to sit back as the full weight of what he’s about to do hits him all at once. Your words are like a balm to his soul, but they burn him just as much as they soothe him. A reminder of what he’s losing just as much as a reminder of what he’s fighting for. There was never a need to put a label on what you two had, what you were to each other, because it would never be replicated. It had always just been ‘yours’ . Now, with a flick of his pen, it’ll be nothing.

Maybe , he thinks, maybe there’s a way I can explain why I’m doing this, some kind of code or something. Maybe I can still meet with her, just in secret. But Snow …It always comes back to Snow.

Snow reads these letters, and surely he'll be more vigilant of Finnick to make sure he keeps his side of the deal. Besides, if you knew the real reason he’s doing this—that it’s against his will, that he wouldn’t even think to do this in his worst nightmare—you’ll latch on, consequences be damned.

He’s doing this for you. He has to remind himself that it’s your life on the line here, not just his heart.

Still.

He's careful when folding the letter back, only bending it along the preexisting lines. He sets it beside himself.

He picks up a piece of paper from the stack in front of him tucked against the wall, twirling his pen along his fingers. His leg bounces, nails tapping on the desk.

He writes something down and comes to a stuttering halt. It isn't good enough. He crumbles it up, throws it in the trash, and picks up a new one.

Write, crumble, trash, repeat.

He's stuck in a loop, unable to find the right words. The pressure is building, and he can feel himself starting to crack. He needs to get this done, needs to find a way to say goodbye.

Write, crumble, trash, repeat.

He's lost track of time, doesn't know how long he's been sitting here. The words are eluding him, and he's starting to feel like he's lost his grip on reality.

Finally, he puts pen to paper and the words flow out of him like a dam breaking. He writes about his love for you, about how much he misses you, about how impossible it is to imagine a future without you. He writes about his fear and his grief, about the weight of the world on his shoulders. He writes you goodbye.

When he's done, he holds your letter carefully, tucking it back into its envelope. He knows what he has to do, knows that there's no turning back now.

With trembling hands, he picks up the tan envelope and slides his letter inside. He seals it with a kiss, feeling the weight of his decision like a physical burden.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and places the letter on the stack in front of him. It's done. The words are written, the decision made.

He sits back in his chair, feeling numb and hollow. He doesn't know what comes next, but he knows that he'll face it head-on. For you.

Past (xii) - You

[21 & 22] - DISTRICT ELEVEN

Finnick's reply came faster than you expected it to.

You plop down in your office chair, giddy as you rub at your sore cheeks. You've been smiling like an idiot since you picked up the letter from the Mayor's office. You tear into the envelope and pause.

The words are kind of smudged, dried drops of something smearing the ink. Luckily, you can still read it.

My heart,

My moon and stars.

I must have rewritten these words at least a dozen times by now. You should see the pile of crumpled paper next to me. You'd call it wasteful, but I'm sure you'd be secretly charmed by how nervous you make me after all these years.

There's no way to dance around it, and I know how much you hate when people mince their words.

It pains me to think it, let alone write it. This will be my last letter to you.

I know you have a hundred and one questions bouncing around that beautiful brain of yours, you'll want to know why. And the answer is, there is no why. I've decided that it's best, for both of us, to stop. Stop the letters, stop the meetings.

It ends here.

I don't want you to hate me. But if that makes it easier for you to stay away from me, then despise me. More than the Peacekeepers, more than the Capitol, more than Snow. Take that loathing and hold onto it like you used to hold me.

But, selfishly, I want you to know what I'll be holding onto.

Those little moments outside of time where you and I were the center of each other's universe, two stars orbiting each other. The balcony of my room, the floor of yours.

I want you to know this because I don't want you to doubt that I love you.

Because I do. I love you. I could say it a thousand times, and it still wouldn't be enough. I could say it until my tongue falls off and I'd find a way to sign it to you.

I could live a thousand lifetimes, be a thousand different people, and I will never love someone like I love you.

I think of your smile and I fall in love again. I think of your touch and I fall in love again. I won't leave you without you knowing this. I'd sooner stop breathing.

There are plenty of things I should be thanking you for, but if I tried to make a list, I'd run out of paper.

I felt...free with you. As free as anyone can be in our situation. I've never felt so close to another person before—I never let myself.

I thought it would pass eventually, like a sand castle when it's high tide. Noticeable, beautiful, but temporary.

But I can tell you now, that was such bullshit . Since that first dance, there was never a moment I wasn’t in love with you. I loved you before I knew I was capable of it, before I knew I had it in me, and you had my heart before I even knew it was there. I saw the thorns of your past and held my hands out, ready to bleed if it meant I could touch you.

And that scared me. The very thing that gave me strength was my biggest weakness. That’s a hard pill to swallow at sixteen and it’s just as daunting at twenty-two.

Years ago, you asked me if I could wish for anything, what would it be. I still wish I was a different person, someone you could be proud of. And I wish that person got to grow old with you.

God, you don't know how badly I want to grow old with you.

I have no doubt that there's a planet out there under a different sun where we end up together. Hand and hand with the two kids we always talked about. A little girl that'll have me wrapped around her finger because she'll look just like you. And a little boy that'll drive you up the wall because he's a little too much like me. That universe is where my heart lives.

We'll find it someday, just you and me. Until then, they'll find our love written in the stars. In every constellation.

-Yours until words lose meaning,

Finnick O.

You reread the letter. Then reread it again. You keep rereading it until the words refuse to sit still, letters blurring together.

It ends here? What’s he talking about? He can't possibly mean the two of you. He can't.

But he’s ending it. He ended it . Why would he—? He said there’s no reason, but…but there has to be.

You try to think of anything you did—anything you said that could have led to this but you're coming up blank.

This doesn't make any sense. It doesn't line up with the Finnick you know.

The letter says that he loves you, and you thought you knew he loved you, but it’s pretty hard to believe that when he’s leaving you.

He promised he'd stay with you, he promised , and Finnick doesn't break his promises. Not with you. No. Not after everything you've been through together. You only have each other.

The paper falls from your trembling hands to the desk.

No . You only have Finnick. But, Finnick—he doesn't want you anymore, right? So, where does that leave you? What else do you have?

A grandfather clock ticks in the background, though it sounds muted to your ears.

You look down at the paper and find wet spots, ink more smeared than it was before. Your cheeks are wet. Are you crying?

Stupid. You wipe at your cheeks roughly—angrier at yourself than you are at him. There are a million and one reasons this could have happened and they all begin and end with you. You have no one to blame but yourself.

You know what it feels like for your body to break. What it feels like to be drained down to your skin, nerves, muscles, and bones. You've come eerily close to knowing what it feels like to have your mind broken.

But this is new. This is what it feels like to have your heart broken. It's sudden, and it rips you apart on its way in. Not an arrow, but a knife. Quicker than you thought it'd be, but it hurts just the same.

You’re so cold. You don't think you've ever been this cold before. Not even when you were nine and you got such bad hyperthermia that you couldn’t work for the rest of the winter. He always ran hot, you think distantly. And all his warmth has left you.

You hold on to yourself because no one else will. You would have preferred your body breaking. At least that heals.

“I can’t,” you weep, stuttering over betrayal and loss, “I can’t do this on my own.”

You press your forehead into the desk, your body shaking with the sobs you’re holding back. It hurts so bad. Pain sitting rooted in your chest, sharp and rigid like a peach pit. Your heart doesn’t beat, it throbs . Throbs like a festering wound, irritated and infected.

You pull at your shirt and dig your nails into your chest. Maybe if you press hard enough through the skin and fascia and muscles you could pull out the problem.

But that’s impossible. There’s nothing there. It’s the absence that hurts, that gaping Finnick-shaped hole. You wanted to give him your heart, but not like this.

Did you get ahead of yourself? Thinking anything could last with someone who shines as bright as him? Maybe…maybe if you were a little more like him, if you shined just as bright.

You scoff.

You’re not a star, you’re not even the moon. How can the sun love the same darkness it chases away?

He described the ocean to you once. Vast and endless, like it could go on forever. And he told you about all the people who get lost at sea. Now you’re one of them.

You have capsized, water rushing up past your neck and into your mouth and nose, just as salty as your tears. Your lungs burn from the lack of air, you can’t breathe and no one will come for you because you're as good as dead.

Here you sit in your study in your home that isn’t really yours, far away from any ocean, but you're drowning anyway.

You drown and you drown and you drown and you do it alone.

Present (X) - Finnick

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL

It’s a last resort, a unanimous choice between them all. A wordless decision that the victors made to appeal to the Capitol citizens. Though they’re all using different means, it’s all for the same result. That’s what Finnick has to remind himself when he’s called on stage after Beetee.

The crowd screams at his entrance and he locks his hands behind his back. He smiles while nodding to his adoring fans as he stands beside Caesar.

“Finnick, I understand that you have a message for somebody out there. A special somebody.” The crowd hoots and hollers at the dramatics of it all and the idea of one of them being the special someone close to his heart. He chuckles and looks down. The Capitols being painfully predictable is finally paying off. All according to plan. “Can we hear it?”

He could spew some generic flowery shit that could apply to literally anyone he’s come in contact with, but…

He looks at the camera. There will be fourteen victors coming up to perform before you, so you should still be in your dressing room. Are you watching? Watching him?

"My love, my star . My heart is yours. And…and if I had to pick a place to die, it would be in the warmth of your arms. Your smile, the last thing I see and your lips, the last thing I taste. Everything I have ever done, I have done for you.”

Caesar pouts at the audience as they coo at his love letter and he wishes they never heard it. He wishes he could have said it to you directly. Those words, they’re yours and they should have been for your ears only. And, yet, here he is, relaying his heart to you through a screen. Look how far we’ve fallen, Star.

“Oh, my. That’s very touching, Finnick. Isn’t it? I’m sure whoever it is, is listening and feeling truly loved.”

“I hope you’re right, Caesar.”

They allowed Mags to opt out of her interview on account of her not being able to speak. How kind , he scoffs. And as he settles on the raised platform beside her, he briefly squeezes her hand.

You okay? He mouths and she nods with a smile.

One by one, each victor comes with their own approach to sway the masses. Oh, he knows there's no way they'll be canceling the games. Finnick is more likely to drain the ocean with a teaspoon before Snow even considers stopping this cruelty. But it’s worth a shot, he supposes. It can’t possibly make going into the arena any worse.

Besides Johanna's impassioned speech, nothing the other victors do stands out to him. Then, you're called out.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as the audience applauds at your entrance.

From what he can recall, your outfit is a remix of the dress you wore in your first interview as if it has aged and matured with you. It’s gained a long train and the hip-high thigh slits that your stylist is known for.

You blow kisses to the crowd and they, understandably, go wild. You turn to Caesar with a smile and the overhead lights shine on you, painting your skin in soft lighting like a blanket. He takes a breath. And another, until he notices he’s breathing in sync with you.

He blinks when the crowd breaks into raucous laughter and he realizes he’s missed something.

"Oh, we all know just how shy you are." Caesar smiles, holding his laugh behind clenched teeth in that way of his that reminds Finnick of an overachieving beaver. The crowd laughs with him and your cheeks must hurt from holding that coy smile. "Now, the last time we talked, you said you were composing a new piece." Caesar pulls a violin out from…somewhere behind him and presents it to you like a gift. Finnick doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he didn’t think you’d use the violin as your strategy. Mostly because of how much you hate it. Or maybe you don’t anymore. Maybe you’ve grown to love it and he’s none the wiser. “Can you play it for us now?" The crowd clamors in ooohs and ahhhs at the idea. It has always been a privilege to hear you play. Finnick watches your face closely.

It wasn't your favorite thing to do, by far, but you took to it like a fish to water. Usually, Snow would have you play at the more "personal" get-togethers. But every once in a while, you would compose a song for Finnick . And when it was just the two of you, you'd share it with him. He'd sit in front of you in awe as you played. He doesn't have a musical bone in his body, but he can hum every piece from memory.

“You’re kind of putting me on the spot here, but, sure. I would love to play it for you all.” You laugh. You place the instrument under your chin and position your fingers and bow.

And you play .

It's not showy like the pieces you usually play for the public. Not grand or performative, but soft and soulful. Melancholy. It feels nostalgic almost, like something you would write for him.

The haunting melody carries throughout the silent room as if everyone is breathing with the lilting notes. Everyone but Finnick—who holds his breath.

He looks down, squeezing his eyes shut, nose scrunching as he fights back tears. Because as much as you may hate the instrument, you play it as if it's an extension of your body. And you've always been better at showing how you feel than saying it.

It sounds like a goodbye.

You come to a stop and Finnick's lungs stop constricting with your movements.

When you finish, it’s quiet before Caesar clears his throat and gives you a small smile that almost looks genuine.

“That was marvelous , my dear. Truly moving—wasn’t that moving?” He asks the audience, and Finnick will be surprised if there’s a dry eye in the crowd. Even their applause sounds sad.

“Thank you, Caesar.” You nod at the praise. “You taught me so much—all of you. If I had known this would be the last time I got to play for you—” You trail off into a sob and the crowd coos. The words may be fake, but he isn’t too sure about the tears. He wonders if you think you won’t make it out of the arena alive—not that he would let that happen. If he could just talk to you, and have an actual conversation, he could know what you’re thinking.

Caesar pats your lower back and Finnick’s eyes narrow. “And you played beautifully.”

You hand the violin back with a watery smile and, fake or not, Finnick hates to see you cry.

You’re met with a standing ovation as you climb to your place on the platform. With the way the victors are positioned, he stands directly behind you. Or, well, strictly speaking, he’s more diagonal than directly behind you. Still, how lucky is he? He could, theoretically, lean forward and catch a whiff of your perfume—

He gathers himself, straightening up and lacing his fingers behind his back. He squeezes the space between his thumb and forefinger.

Katniss spins and her wedding dress transforms in a flurry of fire before their eyes.

“Again with the fire.” He mutters under his breath.

The crowd is in awe as she spreads her wings, but he isn’t so easily cowed. Though, he might not be the target audience. Finnick’s never been particularly fond of birds, even if they are mockingjays.

"You know Katniss and I, we've been luckier than most. And I wouldn't have any regrets at all if it weren't…if—" Peeta stops himself, glancing around nervously.

"If it weren't for what? What?"

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Now, that catches his attention. Gasps echo throughout the room at Peeta’s revelation. Finnick’s eyebrows almost touch his hairline with how high they raise. Caesar tries to do damage control, but the situation is quickly escalating.

“Call off the games!”

“This is cruel!”

He purses his lips around a growing smile, but he can’t hide it for long when the crowd starts shouting. That’s…that’s certainly one way to get the audience riled up. He catches the slight smirk on Peeta’s face as he watches the commotion he caused and Finnick’s a little jealous.

Chaos unfurls in a way he never thought the Capitols were capable of. They’ve always been so docile; sheep shepherded into any direction Snow leads them. But it makes sense. The romance act was meant to fool the Capitol and fool them it has. He hides the vindictive glee he feels at the riot breaking out in the name of the victors, but only barely. He would kill to see Snow's face right now.

How does it feel, he wonders, to see your people rebel in support of the savages you tried to paint us out to be?

He looks over, brows furrowed, as Mags takes his hand with a proud smile and he glances down in time to see you take Chaff’s hand. He pauses for a moment before taking the hand the woman from Five offers him. In sync, the victors all raise their hands in a show of solidarity.

“Stop the games!”

“Call them off!”

Finnick grins big at the mayhem unfolding before him and they keep shouting long after the lights cut out.

Present (X) - You & Finnick

[23 & 24 ] - THE CAPITOL

“Star!”

It didn't take long for the tributes to be escorted off the platforms and as he chases after you, Finnick realizes that he vastly underestimated just how many people stood between you and him. He isn't sure if he's too far away for you to hear or if you’re actively ignoring him.

”Star!” Finnick pushes through the crowd of victors and stage crew to get closer. Chaff glances at him and now he knows for sure that you’re ignoring him.

“Stubborn.” He mutters as some of his fellow victors let him pass, glancing at him before continuing their conversations. But, as he’s said before, he’s just as stubborn as you. He racks his brain for something that’ll catch your attention before he loses what might be his last chance with you. “ The message was for you! ”

You pause at the entrance of the elevator at Finnick's shout. You're so close to getting away, so close. Your escape is a hair's breadth and a footstep away, but you remember how you felt sitting in your dressing room watching Finnick's interview. Was there a pang of jealousy over the possibility of the message being for someone else? God , it couldn't even be categorized as jealousy.

You look over your shoulder and his lungs stop constricting. He’s got you. Now, for the hardest part: keeping you.

There are dozens of eyes on him, people milling around as if they aren’t honed in on whatever this is. He can’t blame them for being curious, he’s a little confused himself. He went into this with no plan, not that he would have been able to stick to one with how you’re looking at him.

“What?” The lingering crowd fully parts for him as he approaches, and you regard the gathering audience warily.

“What I said, the message—it was for you.” He repeats.

He can’t afford to be coy, that hasn't worked the last dozen times he's attempted a conversation with you and it definitely won't work now. He knows if he doesn’t catch you now, there won’t be any more chances.

Peeta dropped a baby bomb, and, somehow, this is the most dramatic thing to happen tonight. His eyes are locked intently on you, either unaware of all the attention he’s captured or just uncaring.

You look over to Chaff for some kind of help and he smirks at your growing embarrassment. You watch in disbelief as he walks away using the excuse of finding Seeder to escape.

“Finnick, this isn’t the time.” You glance between him and the floor, tracing the threading in his boots instead of the desperation in his eyes.

"Can you please just,” he shifts his weight on his feet, "can you look at me, Star? Please, just look at me." He lifts his hand like he aims to reach out to you, but hesitates.

This situation is developing into something far more intimate than your current company should allow. More intimate than you should allow. You can always just walk away, turn your back to him and get on one of the idle elevators—let it end here once and for all. The only thing stopping you would be the completely unfounded guilt.

You don't owe him anything, let alone your time.

And, yet.

Maybe you can get some kind of closure and set clear boundaries before you go into the arena—and that reasoning sounds weak even to you.

Both of you could die tomorrow and truthfully, you don't want to walk away from him; you've never wanted to.

Besides, it's not like he can hurt you any worse than he already has.

Finnick jolts when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, a sensation he should be accustomed to but has grown foreign.

You pull him aside away from eavesdropping ears, but not from nosey eyes. You feel like a spectacle, with how front and center Finnick has made this, but when haven't you?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You question him in a harsh whisper. “I don’t know what this is or what you think this is, but it is not the place for it. What if this gets back to Snow—”

“I don’t care.”

“—There’s already so much…what?”

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head, and for once, he’s not lying. “I don’t care if they hear us, or—or if this gets back to Snow.”

Your jaw shifts as you narrow your eyes up at him and there’s that anger he’s been expecting.

“Please, Star. Just…just let me speak.” He begs. Your face goes blank, a mask slotting into place like a lock with a key that Finnick has long since lost the right to. He blocks out the chatter around him.

“Not here.” For a moment, he thinks he’s being rejected until you grab his wrist and drag him behind you. The elevators are filling in droves and you just so happen to pick the one housing some of the last people he wants to witness this.

Haymitch takes one look at your faces and the grip you have on his wrist and raises his hands in defense.

Haymitch turns to Katniss and Peeta. “Nuh-uh, believe me. You do not wanna be locked in here with them.” He shakes his head and steps out without a backward glance and you contemplate going with him. “I’ll meet you guys up there.”

Johanna steps on in his place, elevator doors closing behind her. She looks between the four of you and whistles. Finnick sighs.

“There’s the happy couple.” You glance at Peeta and Katniss because she certainly isn’t talking about the two of you. “You caused quite the stir out there. Why didn’t you tell us you were expecting? We could have thrown you a baby shower.” You sigh through your nose. You don’t even have it in you to intervene in this conversation.

“What the hell is a baby shower—”

“We didn’t know how everyone would take it.” Peeta cuts Katniss off. “We’re already the newest victors. The baby might’ve painted an even bigger target on our backs.” He says without stuttering once.

“That’s a fantastic answer, Peeta.” Johanna crows sarcastically. “Did Haymitch prep you on that one or did you come up with it on your own?”

“No. No, it’s all me.” He assures with a downward smile. It certainly is all him. He’s the mastermind behind all of this, right? Ironically enough, Finnick doubts Katniss had any real part in making this ‘baby scandal’.

Finnick opens his mouth to make a quip but thinks better of it. You’re already aggravated at his presence and he honestly doesn’t want to remind you that he’s here. His only consolation is that you’re still holding his wrist, all five pads of your fingers are searing points on his skin.

Peeta gives you an imploring look, eyebrows raised as if to ask if you’re alright and you nod and—when did that happen?

It’s quiet, with no other sound than the nearly inaudible woosh of the elevator going between floors. No one makes an effort to break the steadily growing awkward silence. Finnick does, however, make the mistake of making eye contact with Johanna. She mouths you’re dead at him over your head and, yeah, that definitely fills him with much-needed confidence.

Present (X) - Finnick

[21 & 22] - THE CAPITOL; TRAINING CENTER; ELEVENTH FLOOR

“Alright. You wanted to speak.” Your dress flutters around your legs as you settle into a big green chair. That same giant green chair you sat in three years prior. You’ve both grown considerably since then. Just in two completely different directions. What a juxtaposition. “Speak.”

He stays where he’s standing a couple of feet away. He probably should have figured out what to do on the elevator ride, but, again, he’s without a plan. “Did you hear my message? When I was up there with Caesar? I know you were still getting ready—did you hear it?”

“I might’ve.” You shrug and cross your arms, still so stubborn. “Great strategy by the way. I’m sure you’ll reel in plenty of sponsors.”

“God, Star, it wasn’t for them. It wasn’t even for the fucking movement.” You raise a brow at his words but give no further outward reaction. He moves to stand before you, each step more unsure than the last. Your glare is scorching, but there’s been enough space between the two of you to house the sun. “Do you remember when you said my poetry was a gift? And—and that I shouldn’t waste it on them? You said you would never be tired of anything I do. Do you remember that night? What I said?” He implores. It was a special night full of promises and you gave him more than he deserved.

You look him over with a critical eye long enough that he’s sure you’re just not going to answer. Especially when you turn to stare off to the side before sighing out of your nose.

“My heart, who am I to deprive you of what's yours by right? The air in my lungs, I breathe for you. The blood in my veins pumps for you. A leaf can’t stop itself from falling and neither could I. Everything I do, I do for you.” It only takes him half a second to recognize the lines and he’s stunned, transported back to that garden under the stars. “I remember all of them…I remember everything you’ve made for me.” You give him fleeting peripheral glances and avoid his gaze like you’re ashamed of that.

He nods, frantic and eager. He’s making headway. He honestly didn’t think you’d let him get this far. Your eyes widen when he drops down into a kneel before you smooth your face into a blank mask. “They’re all yours. And they’ll keep being yours even if you still hate me when I leave this room. Everything I’ve written since I met you has been for you.’’ He confesses, hands moving to grip the arms of your chair, but is it really a confession? The Capitols love his poetry because they adore the idea of Finnick Odair being devoted to them, longing for them and, for that, you’ve always been his inspiration.

You stare down at him, giving no indication that anything he’s said has swayed you. He grits his teeth through the sting of rejection and sighs, arms falling to his sides.

“I can’t tell you how sorry—”

“Why now?” You cut him off. “It’s been two years. You don’t owe me anything, Finnick, so if this a guilt thing—”

“I–It’s not. I mean, it is, but it’s not…it’s not why I’m here.” He sits back on his haunches, running a hand through his hair. “We could die tomorrow. And I don’t want you going into that arena thinking that I don’t love you or…or that I wanted to leave you.”

You squint at him, face twisting into a sour scowl.

“You said,” you drawl, slow and drawn out like you’re explaining something fundamental to a child, “you thought it was best if we ended it.”

He shakes his head. “I lied. I had to and I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I hurt you and I know saying sorry won’t be enough, but please know sending that letter was the last thing I wanted to do. Leaving you was the last thing I wanted to do.”

“What? What are you talking about? You said—”

He holds his hands up, stopping your completely warranted stream of questions.

“I know. I know what I said and I never would have said it if Snow hadn’t shown up at my house—”

“Snow showed up at your house?” Your arms unfold and you lean forward so suddenly that he almost flinches back. “When?”

“Uh, a few weeks before I sent the letter. He’s the only reason I even sent it.” He scoffs, remembering the state he was left in after Snow offered the ultimatum. He doesn’t need to try to remember the words written in the letter he sent you because he’s never forgotten. They’re tattooed on the back of his eyelids, seared into his memory every time he blinks.

“What did he want? What did he say to make you…” He watches you try to articulate your confusion. What led to this ? What could have possibly been worth giving you up?

“Snow he–he was convinced that our relationship would somehow lead to—civil unrest. His solution was to get rid of one of us, get rid of you . I couldn’t let that happen. He never explicitly said it, but you know how he is, how he speaks …I was scared. I was. I didn’t—” His voice cracks and you stare down at him with stunned, wide eyes. He wants to shuffle closer. He wants to sway into you and take some kind of comfort. But he doesn’t. “I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t just tell you because you would have tried to find some kind of loophole and we couldn’t afford to make him more hostile than he already was.”

You look to your left out of the wall-length windows and smirk, completely throwing Finnick off.

"Star?"

You stand. He watches as you pace the length of the room before turning on your heel and walking onto the balcony. He can do nothing more than follow you.

“He came to my house too, you know. Around the same time, I think. He wanted to remind me about how privileged I am.” You snort and that sick feeling is developing in his stomach, organs twisting to make room for the settling dread. He isn’t sure what he thought you’d do in light of the revelation, what he expected you to say, but it’s not this. “Went on about how thankful I should be that he was allowing us to be in a relationship and…and that as long as I kept myself in line, I could keep you.” You sigh, propping your elbows on the railing and placing your face in your hands.

He doesn’t know what to do. Speechless doesn’t even cover it. His anger is there, and he doesn’t see that ever leaving him...but he’s been angry for so long and he’s been tired for even longer.

“We played right into his hand, Finnick. He gained something from this, bastard that he is.” You scoff. You turn and sit with your back against the glass railing. "That's all that matters to him."

Finnick stews on it and many things are starting to make sense. In the months leading up to the event, the two of you started seeing each other less and less. Long periods where all he had was your perfume and words to keep him company. And considering Snow was the only way either of you were allowed to come to the Capitol…Of course. It all seems so fucking obvious now .

"I should have known better. Snow was never gonna kill you, he's too fucking— God .” He stops and shakes his head. All of the lost time, the unnecessary pain.

“Come sit down, Finn.”

Finn.

He hasn't been called that in a long time. He takes a second to stare unseeingly at the stars before sliding down beside you.

It's quiet. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know if there's anything he should say, and he's sure you feel the same. But he does know if it was up to you, you'd both sit in silence for the foreseeable future and he has two years' worth of confessions to make.

“The mo—” he stops, overwhelmed by how much he wants to say, but nothing feels good enough, “I loved you the moment you laughed at my stupid joke the first time we danced together and I have loved you ever since. Even when I wasn’t there to show you, even when I—I left you. I’ve loved you the entire way, Star. There are billions of suns out there, billions of universes, and I love you in every one.”

Your head whips up.

“I remember everything you’ve made for me too.” Your mouth twists, brows furrowing as you stare at him and he can’t express in words how good it feels to be seen.

"I don’t hate you.” You shrug a shoulder, smiling small and quick. “You said ‘even if you still hate me’, I don’t hate you.”

“...You don’t?”

“I tried to. For a while, I thought I did." He shouldn’t be surprised by that. He shouldn’t be hurt by something he explicitly told you to do in his letter. Finnick shouldn’t be a lot of things that he is. “But I just… couldn’t . I didn’t even want to, after a while. I was just tired.”

His head thumps against the railing. He closes his eyes. There's a question on his tongue, an answer he shouldn't need but wants regardless.

“Is that why you stopped sending letters?” When he opens his eyes again, he’s relieved by the fact that you’re still facing him.

Your face twists like you’ve tasted something sour, something rotten. “I just…I was fine waiting for you, Finnick. It was hard, but it didn’t hurt. Not too bad, at least. I would’ve waited a thousand years because it would have been worth it to hold you for a second. And I could get through that because I knew you were waiting for me too. But, I realized you were never coming. And, eventually, I realized…you weren’t waiting either." You whisper, wrapping your arms around your legs as you pull your knees up. He stiffens, freezing in place as he tries to slow his heartbeat.

He drops his head, brows furrowed as he tries, and fails, to stop tears from forming. It's just, it's cruel . The one thing he promised himself he'd never do—leave you, hurt you—he had to do for you.

He wipes his face, pressing the base of his palms into his eyes.

"Star, I…I would never…It killed me to write that letter, you have to know that, right? Right ?" He implores, voice rough while his breath hitches repeatedly. His throat feels tight and swollen as he stutters over the words in his chest. The words you have to hear, the words he needs you to hear. You stare forward, refusing to look at him anymore and he turns to face you full-on, refusing to look at anything but you. "How can I let you know that? What can I do—to prove—that I'm sorry ?"

He thought you both had changed, changed too much to be fluent in what you two used to have. He thought it was a different language, but here, up close, he can see that it’s not so much a new language as it is a cipher. You just had to let him get close enough to understand again. He had always thought you had such an open face, it was a wonder to him how you were able to lie so eloquently when you could never lie to him. But it wasn’t until he was shut out that he realized you were letting him read you, subconsciously or otherwise. He reads you now, eyes tracing your face eagerly—hungrily, and finds…remorse?

"I know you’re sorry. I know. And logically, knowing the truth should make it easier to get over it.” Your mouth opens and closes, hesitating. “But you left me." He nods hard enough to hurt his neck. "I did." And he's sorry, he's sorry, he's so sorry. He doesn't think there's enough air on the planet for him to tell you just how sorry he is. "You left me, Finnick. I know it isn’t rational to feel this way knowing you didn’t want to, but…” You lick your lips, resting your cheek on your knee. When you look up at him, actually look at him and not somewhere over his shoulder, the glossy state of your eyes has him digging his nails into his hands to ground himself. "It’s just—it’s more than a little hard to dissociate you from that hurt." I’d take that hurt from you if I could, he thinks. I’d grit my teeth through the pain and wear it proudly if it meant you’d have a moment of relief. He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says, "I'm sorry, Star." Because, really, what else is there to say? There’s no way to describe everything he’s sorry for.

"...I'm sorry too." You say and he wants to tell you there’s nothing to apologize to him about, but you lock your pinky with his and it’s entirely unexpected and truly enough to make his throat tighten, and all he can manage is a wistful sigh at the feeling of coming home.

Far below them, the sound of the city is dampened by the distance but no less heard. He goes to speak but spots a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. It’s your ankle. Or specifically, what’s on your ankle.

“You wore it?” He asks, touching the fraternal twin of his own bracelet. He appraises what he thought was lost reverently. Tracing the grooves of the shells, the divets in the charms, the rough twine of the rope—it all feels like a live wire under his fingers.

“I never took it off.” You slip your heel off, loosening the straps of the bracelet and wiggling it down your foot. “I just thought it might be a little sad to parade it around when you didn’t want me.”

“There will never be a moment on this Earth of me not wanting you, not while I still have air in my lungs. Not even after.”

“And how’ll you manage that?” You ask, your eyes crinkling in that old mirth you used to wear around him like a beauty mark.

“For you? I’ll find a way.” He promises.

You hum, appraising the jewelry for a second before passing it to him. He can’t help but smile when you lift your hand, silently prompting him. He places the bracelet on you, tightening it on your wrist. It feels like muscle memory when he lifts your hand to place a kiss on the center shell.

The corner of your mouth twitches up and you nod. “Okay.”

He leans in, placing a hand on the base of your neck and pulling you towards him and he’s still in awe that you actually let him. He holds the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around his slender waist.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness, it wouldn’t be fair to.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “But after we do this, I want the chance to make it up to you." He'll spend the rest of his life mending what he tore apart if you let him.

“I think…I’d like that.” You speak into his chest and he feels your voice more than he hears it. “It was for you too.”

“What was?”

“The song I played onstage. I wrote it after it all happened. Honestly, I couldn’t touch the violin without thinking of you, Finn. You were the only person I ever wanted to play for.” You whisper and it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Finnick’s taken by the sudden need to look in your eyes more than anything, to see and know you and be seen and known in return. He pulls back enough to look down at you.

“ Star .” He begs you beseechingly, and there’s no hesitation when you look up at him and he grins. It feels like it’s been years. “There you are.”

You smile. It's small and heavier than he remembers, but it's there and he is as whole as he will ever be.

A/N: IMAGINE POURING YOUR HEART OUT AND EXPRESSING HEARTFELT INTIMACY TO THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE JUST TO GET DUMPED yeesh. fun fact: "...but if you only dug a little deeper you’d find your picture framed and hanging along the walls of my soul." I actually texted this to my beta reader about Finn from Adventure Time after seeing an edit bc I love him so much, but then I converted it into Finnick love. also, Finnick's letter was one of the first things I wrote for this story months ago. That balcony talk was inspired by Hozier's Unknown/Nth WE IN THE ARENA NEXT CHAPPY

#3d wifey talks #3d wifey answers #finnick odair x reader #hunger games catching fire #finnick odair #and they'd find us in a week #finnick #finnick odair fanfic #catching fire #the hunger games x reader #hunger games smut #hunger games fanfiction #finnick fanfic #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #the hunger games

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smartycvnt · 6 months

Text

Voices*

Title: Voices Pairing: Randy Orton x Reader MINORS DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut R WC: 1433

Randy couldn't describe the way that seeing Y/n made him feel. She was pretty, and everybody backstage could acknowledge that safely without risking a beatdown from any of the Rhodes men. Cody was Randy's friend, and there were lines that Randy wasn't going to cross, but Y/n was tempting. There weren't any legal issues, just that of the bro code. Randy knew that they could be smart about it and sneak around, but a part of Randy believed that Y/n deserved more than midnight meetings in hotel rooms. Randy wanted to spoil Y/n with all of the nicest things that he could afford and show her off to everybody during the day just to fuck her in the privacy of their hotel rooms at night.

"What are you doing in here?" Cody jumped in front of Y/n as she made her way towards the bar with everybody else. Randy snuck at peak at her over Cody's shoulder and immediately felt his body start to get hot. Y/n had always sort of dressed to fade into the background, but tonight, she was the star. The black cocktail dress was definitely shorter than it needed to be, but Randy couldn't complain. He just had to hope that he wouldn't get caught staring at Y/n's legs or the cleavage popping up from the neckline of her dress.

"I'm getting a drink. Don't be such a stick in the mud, even Dustin is letting me have fun tonight. I'm not going to be 21 for much longer," Y/n told him. Cody grumbled and sat back down with Randy and Ted. Randy swore for a moment that Cody had said something to him, but Randy wasn't listening. He couldn't stop staring over at Y/n as she swayed her hips to the music playing over shitty speakers while she waited for her drink.

"Hey assholes, stop staring at my sister!" Cody snapped as he kicked both men under the table. "She shouldn't even be in here. She should be with the Divas at the club or something."

"Pfft, like you'd ever let her run around some club on her own. Besides, she said it herself, she's 21 man. There's not a lot you can do," Ted pointed out. Cody sat back and pouted as he watched his sister flirt with the bartender for drinks. "The best you can do is keep her away from some old creep."

"Or two young ones," Cody muttered under his breath as he looked between Ted and Randy. Randy rolled his eyes and stood up to go play pool. He needed to distance himself from Y/n or else he knew that he would end up doing something to jeopardize his friendship with Cody. The bar started to fill in a bit more as the night dragged on, and for a moment, Randy had nearly forgotten about Y/n and Cody angrily watching her from the bar.

"Can I play a round?" Y/n asked as she leaned against the edge of the table. Randy had no idea how long Y/n had been standing there watching him unnoticed. He hated sometimes how sneaky and quiet she could be whenever she wanted to be. Randy couldn't imagine trying to be Cody as a teenager having to worry about Y/n catching him sneaking out at night. Although, Randy had to admit that Cody was probably a much better behaved teenager than he had been.

"I don't see why not," Randy said as he took a step back to let Y/n take her shot. He had been able to look away when she bent over the edge of the table, but it meant that he missed the perfect shot. Randy glanced down when he heard the ball go into the pocket. Y/n smirked up at him as she moved over towards where he was. This time, she bent over right in front of him. Randy had to back up a little to avoid touching her, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. Randy wanted to toss aside the pool sticks and take Y/n right there on that table, but he'd get them arrested for sure.

"Careful, Cody might kill you if he sees you staring," Y/n teased. \\"I was just thinking the same thing," Randy muttered.

"I don't mind you staring. God knows that I've been trying to get your attention for years," Y/n said as she took her shot. Randy's eyes were practically bulging out of his head when Y/n looked back over at him. She laughed as she placed her hand on his chest. "What's wrong? Are the voices telling you to do terrible things to me?"

Randy swallowed as he turned around to get a sip of his beer. Y/n had very obviously rattled him, which made her win against him very easy. Randy was too distracted to be upset about losing, which Y/n knew meant something. Most of the guys were distracted amongst themselves, which was when Y/n made her official move. It was easy enough to sneak out of the bar unnoticed for Y/n once she noticed her brother talking to one of the ring announcer prospects. Randy had snuck out from the back of the bar and met Y/n in the side parking lot, where she was already waiting with a cab.

"You're a lot more trouble than I remember," Randy joked as he got into the cab with her.

"You didn't know me, you knew Cody's perfect little baby sister. Everybody grows up and changes, we're not going to be these people in five years," Y/n pointed out. Randy knew that she had a point. They might never speak of this again or it could be the start of the rest of their lives. He'd have to change the story if they ever got married because Cody and Dustin would have both murdered him if they found out.

The sense of danger as Randy followed Y/n to her hotel room did absolutely nothing to clear Randy's head. Y/n was already hot in Randy's mind, but that dress was turning him on more than any other clothing on a woman could. He was practically ready to start humping her leg by the time that they got to her room and locked the door. Randy was pawing at Y/n's dress like it was the only thing standing between him and buried treasure. Y/n could do nothing except for giggle as Randy's hands eagerly explored her body. She had always known Randy was attractive, but she hadn't really been attracted to him for much longer than a few months. Before that, she had found the bad boy schtick a little immature.

"I don't care who kills me, this is a body worth dying for," Randy muttered as he stared down at Y/n's naked body spread out on her bed. Randy's cock strained against the fabric of his underwear, practically throbbing to be released.

"Take them off and join me. I didn't bring you all this way up here to be stared at," Y/n said. She wanted to shrink back, but she also knew how hot Randy found her confidence. He did as he was told without hesitation. Y/n had been certain that he'd be a bit more of a tease, but she appreciated his cooperation greatly. Randy climbed over Y/n's body and slowly settled a bit of his weight on top of her. Y/n liked the rush of being pinned down beneath Randy's body, but also the knowledge that he'd get off of her the moment that she expressed her discomfort.

There was none of that, however. She continuously pulled him closer to her throughout the night. She urged Randy to be rough with her at times, but also indulged him to use a softer touch at others. Y/n was certain that at least one of her room neighbors could hear her, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything other than the way that Randy touched her. He quickly adapted to the ways that Y/n liked being touched and treated in bed. He was rough, but still respectful. He wasn't one for many words in bed, but he did let Y/n know just how good she made him feel. Hours after entering, the two of them had finally stopped, but the air was still thick with sex well into the next morning.

#my writing #one shot #randy orton x reader #randy orton #wwe #wwe x reader

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atlabeth · 24 days

Text

everything happens for a reason part 22 - zuko x fem!reader

I've been waiting on you

part 21 | masterlist | part 23

a/n: UHHH happy one year anniversary of me not updating!! i missed it by a day but honestly that's very in character. i kind of have no excuse for taking a year long break from this. lol. all i can really say is i lost all my avatar inspo and got really into a bunch of other things and poor little ehfar got left in the corner abandoned!!! but i could never abandon this it's my baby and even if it takes me 1000 years to finish it i will finish it. it's kind of embarrassing that it took so long for this to come out and it's a short filler chapter like who do i think i am.... but everyone is happy and on the beach and yn finally gets some clothes of her own after spending like 7 chapters in prison clothes. anyways enjoy (three more chapters left what?? will it take me 3 years who knows)

wc: 4.8k

warning(s): yn and zuko talk about their pasts and what theyve been through but overall this is a very fluffy chapter

chapter title from seasons (waiting on you) by future islands

The days after their arrival back to the island passed by with relative ease.

Y/N practiced waterbending with Katara and Aang so she could work on getting the hang of it again. She’d been close to mastery before Ba Sing Se, and her muscle memory was stronger than she realized, but prison and the months without her bending had weakened her. Zuko continued working with Aang on his firebending under the looming deadline of the comet.

Sokka and Suki trained with each other too, working on their hand to hand and sword fighting, and Y/N would occasionally join in to stay sharp on what Suki had taught her back in prison. Her time without her bending made her realize how much she relied solely on it, and she never wanted to feel defenseless again.

They continued to share stories every night over a campfire. They all had plenty to talk about after everything they’d been through, especially when Zuko had been against them for half the time, Suki was leading the Kyoshi Warriors, and Y/N was stuck behind bars.

And of course, Zuko and Y/N spent as much time together as they possibly could. They were practically attached at the hip—sitting together at meals, watching one another bend on their breaks, training against each other the way they used to, exploring the island together, just being with each other. After everything they’d been through, Y/N thought they deserved it.

Eventually though, it was decided that they had to leave. Being in Fire Nation territory, even in the middle of nowhere, was risky. They were running out of food and supplies in general, and the possibility that Fire Nation ships would still somehow discover them weighed on their minds. They couldn’t afford to get caught so far into their mission, especially with the traitor prince of the Fire Nation on their side.

Zuko’s idea, however, was possibly even riskier.

“Ember Island?” Y/N asked hesitantly. “That’s… bold.”

“We’re already being bold by staying in Fire Nation territory,” Zuko said. “We’re safe from Azula for now, but it’s only a matter of time before she somehow finds us again.” He shrugged. “My family’s vacation home is the last spot anyone will think to look.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Sokka said. “It’ll be nice to not fight for our lives for a minute before we make the final push.”

Aang adjusted his hold on the reins—they’d already packed up Appa and started flying before Zuko proposed his idea—and shrugged. “I’m okay with it. Zuko and I will be able to keep training, and you all can relax in an actual house.”

“And we’ll be able to go to the beach!” Toph exclaimed. “I’ve been meaning to work on my sandbending. And,” she grinned, “I’m betting none of you have heard of sandball fights.”

“We’re really getting ourselves into something,” Katara said dryly.

Y/N smiled and she leaned into Zuko’s side. He wrapped his arm around her immediately and pulled her closer.

“I’ve always wondered what Ember Island was like,” Y/N mused. “I was always so jealous when you and Azula got to go there on vacation every summer and I was stuck at the palace.”

“You weren’t missing much,” Zuko said wryly. “Yeah, there’s beaches, but mostly it was just unbearably hot.” He frowned. “My father still made me do work even when we were supposed to be on vacation. I’ve done a lot of swordfighting here.”

“I missed you,” she said, and she knew that she would never get tired of seeing Zuko’s cheeks flush red.

“Really?” he asked. “Even then?”

“Especially then,” she clarified. “It wasn’t like I had much going on for me there. The palace was extremely boring without you.”

“Spirits, you guys are gross,” Sokka groaned as he looked out at the sky. “Suki and I haven’t been like this, have we?”

Katara chuckled. “You definitely have. You could barely stay off of each other when you got back from the Boiling Rock.”

“Just imagine what they were like when they first got back together,” Zuko said with a frown.

“Neither of you can say anything,” Toph asserted. “I can hear both of your heartbeats shoot up every time you’re around Y/N and Suki.”

Zuko scowled, Sokka’s face flushed, and Suki and Y/N just smiled at each other.

“So Ember Island is a yes?” Aang asked. When everyone nodded in agreement, he looked at Zuko. “I’m in need of your navigation skills, Sifu Hotman.”

He groaned. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I know,” Aang said cheerfully.

Zuko just sighed, and he kissed Y/N on the cheek before he moved to sit next to Aang. She smiled, and she let her hand hang over the side of the saddle.

“...I guess it is nice not seeing you two argue all the time,” Sokka said after a moment.

“It’s nice that you two aren’t moping around all the time either,” Toph added. “That was kind of annoying.”

“Imagine how I felt,” Y/N said, though it was absent minded as her gaze stayed on Zuko.

“I don’t have to imagine it,” Toph said. “You were very clearly mopey.”

“And when you weren’t mopey, you were angry,” Suki contributed. “You said you were imagining Zuko’s face whenever I taught you new moves at the Boiling Rock. You beat him up a lot there.”

Sokka and Toph laughed, but it was a moment before she said anything. It took Katara saying her name for her to turn back around, and when Y/N did, she blinked for a moment. “What?”

Katara chuckled, glancing at Zuko before she looked back at her. “We’re just glad you’re back.”

Her expression instantly brightened as she smiled. “I’m glad to be back.”

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Ember Island—and if it did, Y/N was far too busy conversing with her friends and watching Zuko for it to matter. She grimaced as she slid off of Appa, one hand taking Zuko’s and the other wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

“Spirits,” she mumbled, “I thought I was used to Fire Nation heat by now.”

“Me too,” Sokka groaned. “But this is already worse than all the other places we’ve been to.”

“Ember Island’s always been like this,” Zuko said. “The good news is that it’s Ember Island. There’s plenty of beaches—we’ve even got our own private one.”

“Good for practicing waterbending,” Katara said with a glance at Aang.

“Good for practicing all kinds of bending,” Zuko said. “You’re gonna need to practice your firebending every day if you want to stand a chance against my father. We’re running out of time and you’re nowhere close to being a master.”

Aang frowned. “Way to bring down the mood, Zuko.”

“I’m being realistic!” he defended. “You can’t just end one hundred years of war with some good luck and an optimistic mindset!”

Sokka shrugged. “It’s worked for us so far.”

Zuko opened his mouth to say something that would definitely cause an argument. Before he could, Y/N laughed, looping her arm through his and tugging him along.

“Come on,” she said. “Show us around.”

Zuko sighed, though his show of annoyance was negated as he pulled Y/N closer. “Fine. It is about time I’ve brought you here.”

“Ugh.” Toph kicked at the sand with her foot. “I think Zuko’s just brought us along on his couples vacation.”

“Oh, quiet,” she joked. “We’ve earned it.”

Toph stuck her tongue out. “Doesn’t mean we can’t complain about it.”

Y/N chuckled as they walked together, the rest of the group trailing behind them.

“Spirits, Zuko,” Sokka marveled when they stepped inside the house. “This is huge.”

“It is the summer home of the royal family,” he said dryly. “My father never settles for anything less than perfection. It also gave us more room to avoid each other when he was causing arguments.”

“I can’t imagine that happened a lot,” Katara said sarcastically.

“Never,” Zuko agreed with the same tone. “He almost burned down the place a few times.”

Aang frowned. “Sounds like a great guy.”

“I know you’re not a violence guy, but if there’s anyone you’d enjoy fighting, it’s my dad,” Zuko muttered.

“I’ll do it for the good of the world,” Aang said. “Not because I’ll enjoy it.”

Zuko grimaced and opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N interrupted once more before they could devolve into this conversation again.

“Like Sokka said, this place is huge.” She placed a hand on Zuko’s arm. “Will we have our own rooms?”

Zuko’s brows creased a bit, but he nodded after a moment. “Yeah. There should be enough for all of us.”

“Suki and I can share,” Sokka said, stretching his arms out casually to reach one around Suki. She laughed and leaned her head against his chest, and he looked far too pleased with himself. “Tryna make up for lost time, y’know?”

“Gross,” Toph scoffed. “I’ll take my own room, please.”

Aang glanced at Katara for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded at Zuko. “Yeah. Me too.”

Katara was too busy looking at a mask sitting on a mantle. She picked it up and glanced back at Zuko. “What is this from?”

“One of my mother’s favorite plays,” he said. “She was an actress before she married my father, and every time we came here, we’d always go see some shows. They gave her the mask of the lead character after the end of one production a few years ago, as thanks for her patronage.”

“Oh, we should definitely go see a play while we’re here!” Y/N exclaimed. “I got my hands on some old play scripts when I was still working in the palace, and the other servants and I would spend hours reenacting our favorite parts.” She chuckled. “It would be nice to see actual actors do it.”

“We should be able to carve out some time for that,” Zuko said. “Between all the training, of course.”

“You are such a downer,” Aang groaned.

“I’m seeing the full picture!” he defended. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do—just because we’re at our vacation home doesn’t mean we’re on vacation.”

“After all this is over, we definitely deserve a vacation,” Sokka muttered. “Before all the rebuilding and restructuring and relegislating starts…” The smile fell from his face. “Wow. We’re never gonna get a vacation.”

“Oh, perk up, ponytail,” Toph said. “We’re going to end the endless war and defeat the undefeatable Fire Lord. If we want to take a vacation, no one can really stop us.”

The smile reappeared with surprising quickness. “That’s true!”

Zuko laughed softly. “Your rooms should be on the first floor. You can explore and divide the rooms yourselves. I,” he looked at Y/N, “want to show you something.”

She smiled as Zuko pulled her closer with an arm around her shoulder and made for the stairs, leaving a rapidly growing argument over room selection in their wake.

“Do you think they’ll have decided by the time we get back down?” Zuko asked.

Y/N shrugged. “This is the first time they’re sleeping in rooms instead of camping on the ground in… Spirits. Since Ba Sing Se, I think. I wouldn’t be surprised if they go at it all night.”

He chuckled as they stopped in front of a room, and Zuko pushed open the door so they could walk in together.

“This was my room whenever we came here,” he said. “I figured we could share it.”

“This is the height of luxury,” Y/N commented, stepping out of Zuko’s embrace to run her hand over the sheets. Her lips quirked into a smile. “I can’t believe you slept on a bed like this every night.”

“You’re telling me they don’t have this kind of stuff in the North?” Zuko asked wryly.

“No,” she chuckled, “definitely not. We were more focused on not freezing.”

“Well, we’re more focused on pointless displays of luxury,” he said, “so you’re not too far off.”

Zuko ignited the tip of his finger and began lighting candles around the room, and Y/N glanced at him with amusement as she sat down on the bed.

“Mood lighting,” he explained with the sliver of a smile. “I think we deserve some time alone after the past few days.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “You know the way straight to my heart.”

Once he was done he sat down next to her, and Y/N intertwined their hands together and pulled him down so they were laying on their backs. She rested her head on Zuko’s chest and he moved his arm around her to keep her close, tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Wonderful mattress,” she sighed. “So this was what you were up to while I was sewing clothes and doing endless loads of laundry.”

“I thought about you a lot more than you probably think,” Zuko said. She turned her head a bit to look at him, slightly surprised, and he shrugged. “Honestly? When we were kids, I thought about you pretty much constantly. My father always told me not to talk to servants, but I didn’t see you as anything other than my friend. You were… kind of my only normal friend.”

“Well, you were kind of my only friend, period. All the other servants were way older—they just felt like a different version of my mom.” Y/N’s gaze rose to the ceiling. “I wonder how they’re all doing.”

“They should be okay,” Zuko said. “No one really caused as much trouble as we did.”

Y/N laughed as her gaze flitted around the room, taking in all the details. A portrait of the royal family hung on the wall, while a much smaller, lone portrait of Zuko sat on a desk in the corner. He didn’t look very happy, but she couldn’t imagine sitting for that many paintings as a child was fun. What looked to be a half-finished message sat on the desk, the ends of the scroll rolling up and obscuring most of the inked letters. A neat stack of towels and blankets were on top of a clothing chest in the other corner, and she chuckled a bit. In her experience of doing his laundry in their youth, it seemed to be something he still hadn’t grown out of.

“I can practically see little Zuko running in here after a day at the beach,” she mused. “The ends of his clothes singed from fighting with Azula, his hair drenched from swimming, getting sand all over the sheets.”

“I wasn’t that messy of a child,” he complained. “I… I did come home with my clothes singed a couple times, though.”

She chuckled. “I know. My mother had to fix a lot of your outfits because of it.”

“It’s not my fault that ‘hide and blast’ was her idea of fun!” he defended.

“Hide and blast?”

“One person hides, the other person searches. By… blasting fire everywhere.” Zuko shook his head. “I don’t know all kids around the Fire Nation were as crazy as us or if Azula invented it herself.”

“...Yeah,” Y/N said with a slight laugh. “We definitely didn’t play that in my village.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he said. “None of you were firebenders.”

“I was the only waterbender in the village though,” she said. “There were a couple other earthbender kids, but it made me feel so special. We would always play together and try to mix our bending together.” A small yet wistful smile tugged at her lips. “That feels like forever ago, though.”

“I know what you mean,” Zuko murmured. “I was banished three years ago, but a lifetime has changed since then.”

“For the better?” Y/N murmured.

She could feel Zuko nod. “Definitely.”

Their door was then pushed open more, and Suki poked her head in through the gap. A grin appeared on her face at their closeness.

“I see the lovebirds are making themselves at home,” she mused.

Y/N laughed as she sat up, pulling Zuko with her. She smiled at the sight of his flushed cheeks. “We’re trying.”

“We believe in knocking here in the Fire Nation,” Zuko grumbled.

“The door was open,” Suki said cheerfully. “And I’d like to steal your girl for an afternoon outing.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What for?”

“Well, I’d like to explore the island some, and I figure we’re the lowest profile out of our whole group,” she said. “We’ve also missed out on some shopping while we were stuck in prison—we’ve gotta get our hands on some Fire Nation clothes.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea! Leya’s dress is beautiful, but Earth Kingdom clothing sticks out a bit more than I want.”

“And I’m in literal prison clothes,” Suki said. “The sooner we’re in red, the better.”

“That’s… probably smart,” Zuko amended. “There’s some gold pieces in my bag. It should be more than enough for both of you.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned. “You don’t have to—”

“You think I didn’t take a bunch of money from the palace before I left?” Zuko asked wryly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Suki’s smile grew. “Just call it reparations.”

Zuko huffed a laugh, but Y/N cut him off as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“You’ll be alright while we’re gone?”

“Of course,” he said. “This is my home, after all. If anything, I should be asking you that.”

“I’ve got the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors with me,” Y/N said. “If anyone decides to mess with us, it’s going to be their problem—not ours.”

Suki laughed and gestured with her head, and Y/N stood up and started walking backwards. “I’ll see you later—try to have some fun here.”

“I don’t have fun,” he called out as she was walking out, and she just shook her head with a smile.

“You’re really dating a ball of sunshine there, aren’t you?” Suki joked.

Y/N bit back her growing smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The rest of the day went by in a breeze.

Y/N and Suki spent a few hours in town, chatting and shopping and even doing some reconnaissance at the end, just to make sure they were truly undercover at the vacation home. Doing rookie spy work with a Kyoshi Warrior was surprisingly just as fun as the shopping part—and after what she and Zuko did to free her village, it was surprisingly easy.

The sun was still high in the sky when they got back, dressed head to toe in Fire Nation finery. Zuko and Aang were in the midst of training when the two of them went around back to find their friends, and when he saw Y/N, his fire died out and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

(“Yeah,” Zuko had stammered when she asked his opinion, “You look really good.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “I feel pretty good.”

“Fire Nation clothes suit you,” he said, and he pulled her into a kiss. “It’s about time you’ve gotten some.”

“Technically, I wore them for a few months,” she said wryly. “Prison clothes and all.”

Zuko scoffed. “That doesn’t count.”

“And I wore them for most of my childhood,” she mused. “Servant clothes and all.”

“That counts even less!” he insisted.

“But thank you,” Y/N finally said with a smile. “I was hoping you would like them.”

It was an effort to bite back her joy every time Zuko would sneak a look at her while they continued their training.)

The rest of the day was just mostly spent getting used to everything. The last time the vacation home had been occupied was when Zuko, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee visited, so a lot of adjustments needed to be made.

Katara insisted on washing all the sheets, and Y/N decided to join in because of her waterbending—Aang wanted to talk with Katara, Zuko wanted to be with Y/N, Toph wanted to ask him a bunch of questions about Ember Island, and Sokka didn’t want to be left out, so soon enough, the seven of them were all sitting on the steps of the house doing laundry and telling stories.

Soon enough, the sun had set and the house had been cleaned what felt like ten times over. Everyone had retired to their own devices except for Y/N and Zuko, who were walking along the shore arm in arm.

“I think I like beaches,” she mused. “The nearest ocean had no beach back home, and all we had in the North was ice. You Fire Nation folk are lucky.”

Zuko chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s luck. We’re just one big island with a lot of humidity.”

“Still,” she leaned her head on his shoulder, “it’s nice. We should visit here together once all this is over.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “I know I’m going to be the Fire Lord if all goes well, but there’s going to be a lot of diplomacy trips.” She felt his eyes on her. “You can join me on all of them.”

“Of course,” she repeated. “The Fire Lord’s Earth Kingdom-born, waterbending girlfriend will be so welcome.”

“If you’ve learned one thing through all of this, it should be that I don’t care what anyone thinks when it comes to you,” Zuko said. “I want you there with me. You want to be there with me. That’s reason enough.”

Y/N chuckled, and she ran her thumb over Zuko’s knuckles. His hands housed callouses, borne from hundreds of hours of explosive firebending and sword-fighting and years of life on the road. She always wondered how hands that treated her so softly, that revered her, were so capable of violence.

“I know there’s going to be a lot of expectations for us,” she said. “Especially once you take the throne. But I— I’d like to take things as slow as we can.”

“Of course.” Zuko squeezed her hand, his brows creasing. “I don’t care what anyone says or wants or expects. I love you, Y/N—we’ll go at our own pace.”

“It’s just because we’ve spent the past year trying to kill each other,” Y/N said with a nervous laugh. “If we could spend this next year being in love with each other, that would be really great.”

That actually got a laugh out of Zuko, and he gestured with his head towards the sand. When they sat down, he pulled her into his side. They fit perfectly together.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I think we’ve already gotten a headstart on that.”

“Good,” she said.

Y/N sighed as she moved closer into Zuko’s embrace, his warmth a shield from the cool night breeze. She’d always run cold, and having a personal hearth made things much easier.

“I wish we didn’t have to go through so much to end up with each other,” she murmured.

“Believe me,” Zuko sighed, “I know.”

“But my mother always told me that everything happens for a reason,” Y/N said. “And… I guess she’s right. Because I don’t think we would be here if all this hadn’t happened.” Something inside of her twisted, and though she tried to suppress it, the words came out before she could really think about it. “And sometimes I— I wonder why I’m still here.”

He frowned slightly, allowing a short glance down at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you know what I’ve had to go through to get here. My village, the palace, the North, this journey with Aang, the capital prison, the Boiling Rock…” she shook her head. “Countless others have died or gotten hurt trying to protect me or save me. Our group— we were the first ones ever to escape from the Boiling Rock. So why do I get to be here? Why is my father gone, but I’m still here? I don’t deserve it more than he did. I certainly don’t deserve it more than Yue. So… I don’t know. Sometimes I just can’t understand why I’m the one that got to make it when so many others haven’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Zuko urged.

“It’s not the way you think,” Y/N said honestly. “It just feels like we’ve beaten every single odd.”

“Maybe we have,” he said, “but it’s certainly not out of luck, or chance.” Zuko took her hand and intertwined their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze. “You fought every step of the way to get here—a lot of the time, you were fighting against me. You’ve earned every good thing you’ve gotten, Y/N, and I think I might spend the rest of my life trying to be someone worthy of you.”

“Zuko,” she lamented, “you already are.”

“It’s not the way you think,” he echoed wryly. “I’ve loved you since the beginning, and despite everything, you still love me too. You kept giving me chances because you believed in me for some stupid reason. I wouldn’t be where I am without that—without you. I want to be the best version of myself every day so you know you made the right choice.”

Y/N felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she smiled, squeezing his hand back. Nowadays, they were almost always touching in some way. Tonight reminded her why—she never felt more comforted, more at peace, then when she was with Zuko.

“You… kind of just hit my next point,” she said with a nervous chuckle, curling into his side further.

“Don’t tell me it’s more self-doubt,” Zuko said.

“I can’t help it!” she defended. “I— I just have to make sure.”

“Of what?”

“That…” Y/N paused, her mouth suddenly dry. “That I’m still the one you want. Even after all that’s happened. After all that’s going to happen.”

Zuko frowned, and he took her other hand, lacing their fingers together. “Of course. Y/N, it’s always been you. It’s been true forever, even if I haven’t always known it.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” she said softly. “I’m Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom. Your people aren’t just going to accept that, especially with you as their leader.”

Zuko actually laughed at that, and he gave her a sideways smile. Months ago, staring into his hardened eyes used to bring her close to tears. Seeing him smile now, reassuring doubts that seemed so pointless in the face of his love—even after everything, Y/N considered herself the luckiest girl in the world.

“Y/N, we’ve gone across the whole world doing things no one ever has,” Zuko said. “The seven of us are going to end a war that’s been going on for a century. Aang is going to defeat my father, and he shouldn’t even be alive. We’ve beat every single odd against us. I think getting my people to like you will be the easiest thing we have to handle.”

“You think so?” she asked. The tension had dissolved some from her shoulders, her worries dissuading with each honeyed word.

“I know so,” Zuko assured. “I’m gonna have to change the Fire Nation from the ground up. There’s no one else I’d want by my side while I do it. My people will see you the way I do, and they’ll love you just as much.”

Y/N leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his lips. Sometimes she still couldn’t get over the fact that she could just… do that. Just kiss him, just smile with him, just be happy with him. Yue shone down on them as she pulled away, Zuko’s features glowing in the moonlight, and Y/N hoped her friend knew she was so much of the reason she’d gotten here.

Happiness seemed out of reach, out of her cards entirely, for such a long time, and when she had it, it always felt like such a precarious thing. Sometimes she still remembered those days in the tea shop, the night in the catacombs.

But with Zuko finally by her side, it was a tangible thing. Something she deserved. Something she already had.

“We’ll do it all together,” she murmured.

“Together,” Zuko agreed.

And she laid back down on the sand, bringing Zuko with her. He pulled her closer, tucked into his side as he wrapped his arm around her. They laid there in silence, Zuko’s warmth heating her from the inside out, staring up at the starry night sky and reveling in the feeling of just being with each other.

Together.

i'll tag ppl here because it's been uhhhhhh fucking YEAR and everyone's prob forgotten it exists and i also did tag lists while this was coming out but please do not ask to be added bc i dont do them anymore!!

ehfar tags: @chandies-sideblog @zacatecanaaaa @anzanity @randomthingssssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @whats-my-question @selfship-mishaps @ilistentotayswifttocope @i-make-questionable-choices @3leni @thatobsessedreader @lostgreekgod @oriontingz @zerode-unhinged @badpvn @mimi-sanisanidiot @adhdhufflepuff @aquaamethyst96 @hollyismentallyillhelp @holypoetrygarden @islandgayneery @pitrii-petra @jinxed-jk @veras-fanfic-reblogs @cloud-9ine @lucifersidepiece @kiskzawagnerwhore @froggi-00 @eajalova @mrsyixingunicorn10 @xxxxxxdelenaxxxxxx @cafesho @the-natureofme @whoevenfrickinknows @a-bit-late @zukowantshishonourback @settlebackeasy @jemssafespace @wildwallflower24 @calmoistorm @mich1551-blog @inutheangel @sagemastah @avrilh

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x reader fic #zuko #zuko fic #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar fic #atla fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla x reader #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar

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drconstellation · 7 months

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The Altar of Eccles Cakes

(updated 21 Oct 2023, for Grain Offerings example) (updated 21 Nov 2023, for link to First Temptation)

The mysterious plate of Eccles cakes. Are they really to "calm people down?' And why do they just ...disappear? They must be there for a reason?

Yes, they certainly are. They are just the first course of a fascinating meal on offer in S2.

So far, most of the meta around the Eccles cakes has focused on the meaning of their name. Eccles is an old name for church. We could view it as Aziraphale trying to calm Crowley down. They are also known as "squashed fly cakes." The white outside and the black inside could be seen as a metaphor relating to Gabriel. Or it hints at the Roger the Stunt Fly, that contain Gabriel's memories, flying around the book shop, who's purpose we don't find out about until the end. There is even a link to the 1650 Sorry Dance that Aziraphale mentioned, in that were banned by Oliver Cromwell for being pagan! (Did I get that right? I've not kept the post link.)

[Edit: They also represent the First Temptation as Jesus fasts in the wilderness for 40 days before the Entry into Jerusalem at the start of the Passion narratives, where bread was made from stones.]

Take another look at the blocking in this shot. The dark horse statue, representing Crowley - even wearing his sunglasses! - has the placating plate of Eccles cakes placed before it, in supplication. Yeah, it didn't work this time, but it's the thought that counts. What we have here is Aziraphale making an Sin offering to the altar of Crowley, to ask for atonement in advance for what he has done (taking Gabriel in.)

Once you frame it in that reference, you realize its not the only altar offering made during S2. It also adds a bit more depth to some of the other scenes, where they have all been mentioned already in some way, but it certainly helps to explain the Eccles cakes!

Firstly, we need to mention the main types of altar offering that are made:

Burnt offerings - for general atonement of sins and for expression of devotion to God. It could be a bull, a ram, goat, or a bird in the form of a dove or pigeon. Such as this magnificent example in the Job minisode.

Aziraphale certainly devoted himself to the sin of gluttony on that occasion. (hang on, that didn't come out the right way, did it...?) But he was still devoted to God, despite his nocturnal conversation with Crowley while they waited out the storm in the cellar.

Grain offerings - a voluntary expression of devotion to God. This was grain prepared in different way, but always seasoned, unsweetened and unleavened. Recall at Gomorrah Lot offered to prepare the visiting angels unleavened bread as part of a meal.

Originally when I wrote this post I didn't think I had any Grain offering examples, but a few days later as I was writing my post on The Ineffable Ducks I realized where the missing S2 Grain offering was - in S2E1, when Crowley yells at the Azerbaijani spies in St James Park. The ducks are usually offered bread, which is leavened with yeast, so technically not quite correct, but when you review all the instances of feeding the ducks crumbs or bread crumbs it certainly fits. Unless you are Crowley, and you'd rather have the current state of quiet "frozen peas" between Heaven and Hell. See my Ineffable Ducks post for an elaboration.

Peace offering - This could be cattle, sheep or goat without defect, but the main purpose to was consecrate a meal between two or more parties before God and share that meal in a fellowship of peace and commitment to each other's future prosperity.

You know where we see one of these? At the eldritch ball!

I did see a nice meta about the vol-au-vents recently, mainly about their name, but I don't seem to have saved it, and can't find it again. They are usually filled with chicken (a bird) and the eldritch ball is ostensibly the shopkeepers monthly meeting, after all, where they are there to talk about their mutual prosperity in the future. Just so happens its also an opportunity for Aziraphale to talk to Crowley about their future...oh, and Nina and Maggie's, as well, of course!

Sin offering - atonement or unintentional sin. It would have the elements of a Burnt offering, as well as a Peace offering, but not be shared. These are what the plate of Eccles cakes are, so they were never meant to be eaten. They were an olive branch to Crowley regarding Gabriel, but he turned it down. So they softly and suddenly vanish away, never to be met with again.*

There is one more altar offering that needs to mentioned, another Sin offering. The one Crowley consumed in Elspeth's place in The Resurrectionists minisode in 1832 Edinburgh - the laudanum.

It pretty clear to most observers that Crowley did a good and "kind deed" for Elspeth here, which angered Hell in the process and then he was dragged forcibly downstairs to be duly punished for it. There is a post here from atlas-hope that suggests this is a parallel of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, drinking the cup of God's wrath to absolve Christians of their sins. They point out the laudanum is even poured into a goblet. Crumbs, that's a hefty bit of spiritual lifting, dear demon. What were you thinking, Anthony J. Crowley? It might cast that conversation you had with the carpenter back on the mountain in a new light, or least make us look back twice at it. (Plenty of time for contemplation before S3 arrives...)

Remember, a Sin offering has elements of both a Burnt offering and a Peace offering: a giant Crowley gets Elspeth to promise to devote the rest of her life to being "properly good, not just pretendy good" and the money Aziraphale is forced to donate to her ensures her future prosperity. Sounds like a win-win situation there, Elspeth!

[*OK, if you don't get the ref, its from the Hunting of the Snark. The Snark represents happiness, a most elusive thing to find, and more often than not its a fruitless search, and you find the terrible Boojum instead. During the third verse the Baker recounts the lecture his uncle gives him about how to hunt the Snark, and to be aware of his fate if he is unlucky enough to encounter a Boojum. It kind of fits in with S2, I feel.]

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #a companion to owls #the resurrectionists #job minisode #elspeth #laudanum #constitution of an ox #crucifixion pose crowley #altar offerings #Fit the Third: The Baker's Tale #Eccles Cakes #I'm sure the Baker would have baked a few Eccles cakes in his time before he embarked

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luvangelbreak · 3 months

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Deprived | Three

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking (cigarettes) word count: 3.4k a/n: thank you so much for the love on this series!! just letting y'all know it's gonna be a slow burn so it's gonna be quite the long series. also made this chapter a bit longer so pls lmk if you like the longer chapters. things will get more exciting from here dw. love you all <3

pov: layla

I was planning on staying at school the whole day, I truly was. But when I felt more eyes on me than usual and murmurs surrounded me with every step I took, I decided I didn't have the energy to endure the whole day. I would skip my next two lessons and come back after lunch, considering I skipped my last two lessons yesterday and the whole point of me being here was to not get expelled for missing too many lessons.

Matt and Chris talked amongst themselves behind me as I walked to my locker but stopped earlier than when I reached it considering theirs were a fair distance from mine. I swung my locker open, still hearing murmurs of my name as people passed by me and I sighed, resting my head on the small shelf inside my locker. I looked across the hallway to see Matt talking to both of his brothers now, looking like they were having a serious conversation.

I pulled my bag out of my locker, swinging it onto my shoulder before I slammed the door closed louder than I usually would out of frustration. People turned to look at me and I slid my hood on, walking down the hallway as people started filtering out for their next class. I walked out the front door without being stopped by anyone, a breath of relief leaving me but once I noticed how hard it was raining, my shoulders slumped slightly.

I couldn't be bothered walking all the way home and back, especially in this rain but I also couldn't stand being at school at the moment. Amidst my thoughts and pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with my silver zippo lighter, I hadn't noticed the doors of the school opening.

"Hey, social butterfly," Matt appeared beside me, his hair now covered by a black baseball cap. I placed a cigarette between my lips, throwing the packet in my bag before lighting the end of it, "You're gonna smoke that here?"

"Social butterfly?" I asked, not responding to his question verbally as I took puffs of the cigarette.

"The first thing that came to mind," he shrugged, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.

"Don't you have a class to get to, Captain?" I asked, sarcasm in my tone as he smirked at me. I made sure to blow the smoke away from his face as I spoke since I knew how much it pissed most people off.

"Don't you?" he retorted and I rolled my eyes, looking out at the rain-filled car park in front of me, "Where you going?"

"Don't know," I shrugged, not looking over at him as I spoke, "Can't stand being here but I can't be fucked walking home and back."

"Why don't you wanna be here?" he asked, his question sounding genuinely curious rather than prying.

"Because people can't shut their fucking mouths about me," I answered more harshly than intended before I looked to my right at him, noticing he was looking at the cigarette in my hand, "You want one?"

"Oh no. I don't- I've never..." he trailed off, shaking his head making me snicker to myself.

"Of course not," I mumbled, taking another hit before I let my right-hand drop to my side again, flicking the ash on the floor. Suddenly, the cigarette had been taken from my hand and Matt held it between his lips, taking a long drag.

He exhaled the smoke before he started coughing, holding his chest in the process making me chuckle at him. I took the cigarette from his hand, his cold rings brushing my fingers as I did so.

"You good?" I asked, amusement written on my face and he nodded, coughing lightly, "Went a bit hard for your first time there, pretty boy."

He had a pained look on his face as he looked over at me while I took another drag, looking out at the rain that didn't seem to stop, "How do you do that? It's not even enjoyable."

With a shrug, I said, "Just habitual at this point."

A silence fell between us for a few moments before Matt asked, "You hungry?"

"What?" I asked, pure confusion on my face as I looked at him and he pushed away from the wall.

"I wanna go to McDonald's. You might as well come with," he answered before swinging the door open to the school and walking inside. I stayed in my position, debating whether or not it's a good idea to go with him.

I didn't have any money on me but I also didn't want to stand here for the next few hours doing nothing so by the time he returned, backpack on his shoulder, I dropped the last of the cigarette on the ground. I squished it with my feet before turning to him.

"I don't have any money for food," I told him honestly and he waved me off as he grabbed his keys from his backpack.

"My treat," he answered quickly before he walked into the rain towards his car. I watched as his pace quickened and I bit my lip out of nervous habit. I shortly followed after him, jogging towards the car before I jumped in the passenger seat and swung the door closed behind me.

"I can pay you back tomorrow," I said as he started the car and he gave me a strange look as if he didn't know why I said that.

"It's just McDonald's. My bank account will live," he replied with a smirk and I shook my head.

"I'm fine to pay you back, I just don't have any money on me right now," I pushed further, never liking the idea of people buying things for me.

"Layla, I promise you it's fine. I asked if you were hungry, not if you had money to pay for your own food," he stated matter-of-factly and I pursed my lips before I slumped back into my seat. A brief pause was placed in the car before he said, "Seatbelt."

"Oh shit. Right," I clicked myself in quickly before he repeated the process of placing his right hand on my headrest, turning around and spinning the wheel with his left hand as he reversed.

"You can be on aux if you want," he said as he put the car in drive and we rolled out of the car park.

"I doubt you will like my music," I mumbled in response and he smirked, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road.

"Try me," he answered and I raised my eyebrows, grabbing my phone from my pocket and plugging it into the aux cable. I clicked on my most recent playlist, the first song being Message in a Bottle by the Police. I looked over at Matt to study his reaction to the music, his hand tapping against the wheel lightly along to the beat.

I hummed along to the song, looking out of the window at the rain pattering along the road. As we pulled into the cark park of McDonald's, the next song began playing which was Paper Machete by Queens of the Stone Age.

"What do you want?" Matt asked as we joined the back of the small queue of cars in the drive-thru, leaning his elbow on the window as he placed his head on his hand.

"Uh..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to get since I hadn't ordered fast food in a while, "Just a large fries is fine."

"You don't want anything else? Cheeseburger or nuggets or something?" he asked and I shrugged, "You like nuggets?"

"I don't mind them," I answered truthfully and he nodded.

"You want a drink?" he asked as we rolled up slowly, only one car in front of us before we had to order.

"Just a medium sweat tea is fine," I replied and he nodded before we rolled up to order.

Matt ordered what he wanted first before ordering my fries and sweat tea but I turned my head when he said, "Oh and can I get a 20-piece nuggets as well. Thanks."

With that, he rolled up to the next window and used his phone to pay for the food before we waited.

"Do you really need 20 nuggets?" I asked and he smirked at me, leaning against his hand again.

"No that's why you're gonna have some," he answered like it was obvious and I frowned. We pulled up to the last window, grabbing our food and Matt handed me the drinks to put in the cupholder before he gave them a quick thank you. He pulled into a car park and slid his seatbelt off.

"Give me the receipt," I held my hand in the middle of the car, sliding the seatbelt off my body and he held the bag in his lap.

"Why?" he asked with a squint of his eyes and I did small grabby-hands with my hand that was reached out.

"I wanna know how much it all was," I answered honestly and he shook his head.

"You don't need to. You're not paying me back," he said with a smile as he handed me one of the large fries from the bag and placed the nuggets on the console in between us.

"Matthew. Give me the receipt," I deadpanned and he grabbed the receipt out of the bag. I was waiting for him to hand it to me but instead, he started ripping it into pieces making me groan, "You're an asshole."

"I'm an asshole because I'm paying for your food?" he asked, a smile still on his lips as I frowned at him while he began eating his food.

"You're an asshole for not letting me pay you back," I mumbled in response as I started picking at my fries.

"Have a nugget and you'll forget all about it," he shrugged, sliding the nuggets towards me slightly and I rolled my eyes, reluctantly grabbing one from the box, "When do you wanna go back?"

"Never," I instinctually answered and he just looked at me, waiting for a real response, "I don't know. I need to go back for my last two periods."

"We can go back at lunch?" he asked and I nodded in response before I turned up the volume on the radio that was still playing music from my phone. The song that was now playing was Hypnotize by Biggie and I lip-synced silently to the words as I slowly ate my food, "So you do listen to rap."

"I listen to everything," I shrugged and he hummed suspiciously making me look at him with a squint, "What?"

"Nothin'," he shrugged, an amused look on his face, "Just hear people say that a lot and they listen to the same three genres."

"Give me a genre and I'll name at least three artists I listen to," I challenged and he chuckled before turning to face me more.

"Pop," he looked at me intently.

"Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, Beyonce," I answered easily and he nodded.

"Metal?"

"What kind of metal?" I asked, knowing he just group all heavier music together, "Nu metal would be Slipknot, Korn and Limp Bizkit. Death metal would be Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel and Blood Bath. Metal core would be Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive and Trivium. Or heavy metal would be Black Sabbath, Pantera and Van Halen. Shall I go on?"

"Alright I got it," he chuckled before taking a sip of his drink as he thought again, "What about rap?"

"Tyler the Creator, Biggie and Trippie Red," I answered confidently and he nodded again.

"Jazz?" he asked and I snickered as he was struggling to think of more genres.

"Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and Nat King Cole," I had a cocky look on my face and he raised his eyebrows.

"Country," he stated, now looking as if he was trying to challenge me more.

"Kasey Musgraves, Zach Bryan and Shania Twain,"

"Grunge,"

"Soundgarden, Nirvana and Alice in Chains,"

"Reggae,"

"Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Jimmy Cliff,"

"Rock,"

"Foo Fighters, that's a big one, Lenny Kravitz and Fleetwood Mac,"

"Okay, I got no more. You win," he held his hand up in surrender with an amused look on his face.

"I mean I could keep going but I'll let you think about it for a while," I answered, a small smile on my lips triumphantly. He just stared at me for a moment, unmoving as he studied my face, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

I wiped my hands around my mouth and he shook his head with a smile, "No. I've just never seen you smile before."

"Oh," I let my smile drop, feeling slightly insecure as he stared at me.

"You should do it more," he shrugged as he threw his trash in the empty bag, "You have a pretty smile."

"Alright, stop gassing me up. I just proved you wrong on so many levels," I answered, brushing off his compliment as I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, you're right. Don't wanna make your ego too big, rockstar," He answered with a chuckle and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Rockstar?" I questioned, finishing the rest of my fries before throwing the trash in the bag he had now placed in the back seat.

With a shrug, he replied, "You like music a lot. Just seems fitting."

"You come up with the weirdest names," I stated and he smirked at me cockily.

"Don't think I didn't notice what you called me earlier," he said making me frown further in confusion, "When I was coughing my fucking lungs up. You called me pretty boy."

"At least the names I call you make sense," I rolled my eyes, trying to brush over the fact I called him that.

"So you think I'm pretty?" he asked, the mischievous look written across his face.

"Now whose ego is big," I raised my eyebrows, a small smile falling onto my lips.

"You're the one who said it!" he threw his hands out in front of him dramatically making me chuckle.

"It's fitting because you're conventionally attractive and that's why so many people love you," I shrugged, a smile still on my lips, "And plus you're captain of the hockey team. That always gets you far in popularity."

"You don't seem to care about popularity though," he stated, a questioning tone behind his words and I nodded.

"Why do you think I never talk to anyone?" I asked rhetorically before I looked out the window, "Yet people still love to talk about me."

"I mean..." Matt trailed off making me look back at him to see he was still looking at me, "I never really intended to be popular. I kinda hate it honestly."

"What's there to hate about being the most loved person in the school?" I asked with a distasteful chuckle.

"I only talk to my friends but everyone still loves to talk about me," he echoed my statement from earlier and I bit my bottom lip while nodding, "It's not all bad. Just gets annoying sometimes."

"At least people say nice things about you," I mumbled making his eyebrows furrow as he looked at me, adjusting his hair in his hat.

"Not always," he retorted making me look at him as I took a sip of my drink, "Especially with Chris being my brother and the fucking idiot he can be. Just because he's with a new girl every week, doesn't mean I am."

"Not as bad as people saying I killed my neighbour's cat," I raised my eyebrows and he pursed his lips, nodding in agreement.

"I can't argue with that one," he smiled a little bit as I bit my lip again, "How many piercings do you have?"

His sudden question threw me off but I answered regardless, "Nine."

"Wow," he seemed surprised and I now noticed the fact he had his ears pierced, the shiny silver earrings dangling from his ears.

"I have my septum, eyebrow, 3 in each ear and then my tongue," I stuck my tongue out to show him the silver bar that was through my tongue and he once again raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked and I nodded. Instead of explaining, I slid my leather jacket off and my black hoodie. I showed him the black and white tattoos that scattered across my arms, all for various different meanings.

"I also have a couple on my legs but kinda hard to show you those right now," I shrugged and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my left arm towards him gently as he looked at the permanent art on my skin.

"What's this one?" he asked, pointing to one of the bigger tattoos I had on my tricep.

"It's the welcome home cake from Coraline," I explained as his fingertips dragged over the tattoo raising goosebumps on my skin, studying it like he was genuinely intrigued, "My mum and I used to watch it a lot when I was little. It's always been my favourite movie."

"That's cool," he smiled at me, letting go of my wrist and I slid my hoodie back on, the cold air nipping at my skin, "I wanna get more tattoos. Where do you get yours?"

"Uh, one of my dad's friends did them. He's not licensed though so I'd recommend going somewhere that's professional," I smiled tightly before I realised I'd never noticed his tattoos, "I didn't know you had any tattoos."

"My parents said I have to wait till I graduate to get ones that are visible like on my arms and legs and stuff. But I have these on my hips," he lifted up the hem of his hoodie, sliding the waistband of his jeans down slightly to reveal two lightning bolts on either side of his waist travelling along his v-line.

"Oh wow," I took in a breath, feeling my face heat up as he slid the waistband back up and fixed the hem of his hoodie.

"I also have these on my collarbones," he announced as he pulled down the neckline of the hoodie to reveal a trail of leaves on either side of his collarbones.

I smirked as I looked at them before looking up at his face, "Big on the symmetry I see."

He shrugged in response before grabbing his drink and finishing the last of it, "I don't know what to get next."

"You gonna get any more piercings?" I asked, genuine curiosity in my words and he shrugged, "You should get a lip piercing."

"I'd have to wait till the seasons over if I get any piercings because I'd have to take it out before I play," he explained and I shrugged in response.

"It's only another month right?" I asked and he nodded in response, "Come with me when I get my lip pierced when the season is over then."

"You think a lip piercing would look good on me?" he asked, pulling his visor down to look at himself in the mirror.

"Mhm," I hummed in response as I looked at him inspecting his own face in the mirror, "Wait. I have an idea."

I unclipped one of my tiny hoop earrings from my ear, making sure to clean it a bit with the sleeve of my hoodie, "Look at me."

He turned to face me and I grabbed his chin to turn his head to the right further. I grabbed the small ring in between my fingers as he just stared at me before I mumbled, "I can't put it on if you have your mouth closed."

He let his jaw open, leaving his mouth ajar as I slid the ring over his lip. I moved it around, realising it didn't sit properly since it wasn't positioned on the inside of his lip correctly. I used my left thumb to pull his bottom lip down slightly and he looked at me intently while I slid the ring further down his lip till it looked satisfactory.

"There!" I nodded and he looked back to the mirror, tilting his head side to side to see if he liked it, "Perfect."

"Why get a piercing when I can just put on a fake one?" he asked with a smirk and I noticed the ring flash in the light as he turned to face me.

"Because fake piercings are corny," I deadpanned and he ran his tongue over the ring.

"It feels weird," he said before looking back at himself in the mirror, "But it does look good."

"Told you," I smiled at him and he shook his head with a smile on his lips.

"Should I leave it on when we go back to school and freak everyone out?" he asked, a mischievous look on his face as I pursed my lips with a nod, thinking of the shock on people's faces when the Matthew Sturniolo would walk into school with a lip piercing, or at least a fake one.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo

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fonulyn · 2 months

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*slides in here* I hear you have a problem/dislike when people give Leon alcoholism in their portrayals of him and would like to hear more about your thoughts on this. I usually think of him as someone who struggles with it solely because in the original re2, he misses his first day in Raccoon City because he was too drunk/hungover, or so I've been told. That's the main reason I think he struggles with alcoholism, and seeing him drinking get put on screen in every adaptation just further solidifies the idea to me. Tell me everything you think?

okay so first of all, the thing is, being an alcoholic and sometimes drinking, or even sometimes using alcohol as a bad coping mechanism, are not the same thing. not by a long shot. and there is literally nothing suggesting that Leon can't function without alcohol or that he does that continuously all the time. having a drink after a rough mission or a rough day at work? i think he's deserved one. and I think people jumping from an adult having a drink to alcoholism without a second thought is too damn extreme.

he missed one day of work because he was hungover. it's just not enough data to draw from to say he does so with any sort of regularity. he was also 21, and who hasn't made shitty decisions at 21? dude just went through a bad breakup cut him some slack lol.

secondly! how much does he actually drink?

he doesn't drink in re4. he doesn't drink in re6. he doesn't drink in Degeneration. he doesn't drink in Infinite Darkness. and I only saw Death Island once but I don't think he drank in that one either. (he drinks water in Darkside Chronicles :'D do we count that?) and even in re2 his drinking is only mentioned in the og backstory. so saying his drinking is put on screen in every adaptation is exaggerating it a lot.

he has like one sip from a flask in Damnation and then a shot at the end, so I'm hesitant to even count that. he only gets drunk in Vendetta and the og re2 backstory so... twice. his alcohol usage is probably more sensible than mine :'D in Vendetta he also made sure that he was on vacation, tucked away from everyone else, so he could get drunk in peace, which is like the most responsible way to do it. so his drinking has only ever negatively impacted his life in ...the og re2 backstory when he was 21 and just went through a bad breakup.

also! to be clear! i am not saying people can't make a work of fiction and make him an alcoholic there! I've done it too! if it's the story you want to tell then don't let anything stop you. that's the beauty of fanworks, you get artistic freedom lol.

what I have a problem with is people claiming Leon canonically is an alcoholic and anyone who disagrees is flat out wrong. and people who claim it often don't even seem to realize that sometimes drinking =/= alcoholism.

i'm very tired so idk if this covered everything lol but here's at least a summary of it.

#anonymous #ask and i shall answer #re answers

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

The Boy in the Window 19 ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: Arrow House and it's grounds is even larger when looking for a missing child in the night

Notes: I've had to split this into two parts as it was getting too long, so unfortunately no Tommy in this part yet (but twice as much as planned in the next part) I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Mentioned stereotypes of romani communities (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 5388

Part 19

[Previously]

She was wearing nothing but her old brown coat over her thin nightgown, but she did not feel the bite of the night air.

But (Y/N) knew it was cold. She knew it with a certainty beyond what her body could feel.

It was far too early in the year to hope for a mild night and there was still a chance for rain- let alone the dampness that hung in the night air, coating grass and tree and stone in a thin film of tiny droplets that would drape a white veil over the entire estate as soon as the morning light would break through the skies.

However it would be hours before that happened.

And even then no one should be out here without a coat and proper, steadfast shoes, let alone now.

And so while she did not feel the cold nip at her skin, she felt it in her heart- an icy terror that had gripped her, bringing tears to her eyes and an almost inhuman strength to her bones.

Inside her, a war was waged - anger raged with anguish, despair fought with determination while blind confusion crashed against that kind of courage which bordered on insanity.

Two dozen lamps were glowing all throughout the grounds like oversized fireflies, some closer, some all the way in the distance.

There were many but not nearly enough to illuminate the entirety of the estate. Not even close. All these little circles of light they could create were nothing more than little rowing boats in a vast sea of impenetrable darkness.

For all they saw, there was ten times as much as they didn’t, and even more that they couldn’t.

(Y/N) did not know what was worse for her to hear, the echoing shouts or the suffocating silence that came after.

All the while Frances’ words echoed in her ear louder than any sound of snapping twigs or crunching gravel.

“The outdoor staff saw him as he was approaching the gate and then he slipped off or fell and disappeared before they could reach him.”

The fools had caught the damned horse but missed the boy.

And now he’s out here all alone.

She had known the estate was big, but not this big.

It would take days to search every inch of it, even in daylight.

But the cold night made it treacherous even to someone who was entirely familiar to it.

Every root she came across could trip him up, every stone glistening with the damp night air could make him slip.

That and more was all too easily overlooked in the darkness, let alone by a frightened, frantic little boy.

What if he fell and hurt his foot, unable to get up again? Or worse - what if he hit his head?

What if he was frightened by all the commotion and hiding somewhere they wouldn't find him?

What if he was cold? What if he got too cold?

That thought made her wrap her arms around her tighter to stop herself from shuddering.

She wanted to scream, to pound the earth with her fists until it cracked open, to tear down each tree if only it meant she could do something.

But she could only do as little as the rest of them - stumbling through the darkness, shouting his name and trying not to succumb to desperation.

Her mind betrayed her once more, flooding her with images of possible outcomes the way it had done throughout four years of war and later when she did not know what lay beneath the cloth or was sitting alone in her living room awaiting news of a man gone to face death again and again.

Then she could have allowed these images, she could have allowed to sink into a pit of sorrow and fear, then when she had been equally helpless and useless.

But not now. She could do something. She had to do something.

And deep down she knew she wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t be able to stop until they had found him.

She thought the no matter what or how before she could stop herself and it made her chest ache as if someone had pried open her ribcage.

Just as they finished crossing a grass area to a path, they were met by other searchers.

“We’ve combed through from the Northern gates.”, one of the drivers that had led a searching troop explained.

“And we went all the way to the river. There was no sight of him on the way but we kept a few men there to keep a look out.”, said a second.

Oh God.

She had completely forgotten about the river. It wasn’t a large one big enough to let boats pass, but wide enough that one couldn’t touch both sides at the same time, not even with two people. It wasn’t deep enough for an adult not to be able to stand in, but it was a different matter for a child.

He should know not to go to the river!, she thought. He knows. He is a smart boy, a reasonable boy.

(Y/N) took a shuddering breath.

But he’s also a boy that stole a pony and tried to run off.

“Did you check on the other side of the river? Towards the forest?”, Frances asked. She had returned wrapped in a long coat and thick scarf.

“There’s no way across.”

Pacing up and down, she tried to gather her thoughts, to free them from her fears.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew the answer, or at least an answer, but every time she had nearly reached a coherent thought, another biting fear, another harsh image crossed her mind.

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hand she let the pain anchor her.

“Where he normally go? Any special places where he might feel safe? Any hiding spots?”, one of the farmers asked. He was the one she had bought the honey from with the children just a few days ago.

He had seen the commotion and the lights and had joined with his two sons, fourteen and sixteen, with the innocence of boyhood written all over his face.

She swallowed hard and flexed her fingers as she looked around at Frances and the others.

“Apart from the stables.”

That was where they had checked first.

“The play areas empty and we turned the entire house upside down.”, Frances told them.

That would have been her next suggestion - the kitchen and that spot in the servant’s staircase where one could see out to the paddock.

She had never entered Arrow House and all she knew of it was from what they had told her.

Crouching down on the floor she closed her eyes and tried to remember anything he or Emma had ever told her from her visits her, any place she mentioned in her games.

But there had been so many stories, so many tales and she had been so distracted from time to time. What if she had missed it?

What if Emma had told her the answer time and time again and she had been to preoccupied with her own worries to notice?

But Emma hadn’t seen much. She usually just went to the stables for her lessons in the closed off paddock.

(Y/N) remembered often how she’d complain about wanting to explore but Charlie had always been the insisting they go back to Warburton House as soon as possible.

She should have seen the signs earlier and when she had seen them she shouldn’t have let Frances brush her off.

Then they wouldn’t be here.

That was why they had people search any possible route between the two homes.

But nothing had come of that. Nothing at all.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Burying her face in her hands she thought back to times before that, to months past when Charlie had only just come to her.

He had been so homesick then and filled with stories, about Frances and the maids and the time he spent in the kitchen -

No, they already checked the house.

He adored the stables but he wasn’t there either and they would have found him in the play area or the back gardens.

If he had been anywhere near the fruit trees she would have seen him as soon as the car carrying them had arrived.

He had talked of his toys a lot and of his horses more, of how he’d saddle them, tend them and ride them just like the way his father had taught him.

Charlie could go on and on about the riding instructions and especially the rides they took to the trees and along the river and that one spot-

Her head shot up as she sprung to her feet.

“There’s a place by the river where you can cross it.”

“What?”, Frances asked her confused, but she nodded feverishly.

“There’s a place by the river,”, she said, practically stumbling over her words and not stopping to take a breath.

“It looks just like the rest but there’s a sand bank underneath the water. You can’t see it but if you know where it is, you can cross it easily. The water didn’t even go to his ankle he said!”

“Where?”, the chauffeur demanded to know, glancing around his eyes wide.

“I don’t know!”, she admitted, as it dawned on her that if Charlie had attempted to go to the river he might have gotten lost in the dark and that was a possibility far darker than any other she had thus far dared to consider.

And unlike the canals, there was movement in the river.

One misplaced foot and the water could grip hold of him and-

“I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to ask Tommy! He’ll know! He’s the one that took Charlie there!”

Still panting she turned to Frances, her lips now dry from all the open-mouthed breaths she had been taking.

“Where is he?”, she asked frantically. “We have to tell him. He’ll know. He has to know!”

In her urgency her voice climbed to a higher pitch than she normally used.

“Mrs Hale.”, Frances whispered, reaching out with her hands to steady her, as if she wanted to comfort her.

Unlike all the others, the urgency had disappeared from her eyes, leaving pity in it’s stead.

And pity was one thing she could not understand and the last thing she wanted to see.

“What? What?”, she demanded to know, staring at the other woman.

Her tone was far from polite, but (Y/N) was beyond common courtesies and manners and she didn’t care who was there to witness.

With regret in her eyes she shook her head.

“Mr Shelby won’t be joining us.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips in stark contrast to the rumbling of the earth she felt.

For a few seconds all she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears sent their by her thundering, panicked heart.

But then her anger washed out any trace of her fear.

“You can’t be serious!”, she snarled through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing.

Swallowing hard, the housekeeper nodded.

Every muscle in her body tensed to the point of bursting as now it was her turn to shake her head.

“No!”, she snapped. “Absolutely not!”

She began to pace again but no longer in fear- instead a bottomless rage had claimed possession of her.

How could he?

How dare he?

“Has he lost his mind?”, she shouted into the night, making a few of the bystanders flinch.

Even Frances took a step back, but (Y/N) was quick to follow.

“What does that- what does any of that matter now?”, she pleaded at her, her voice trembling as despair claimed her once more.

She would beg on her knees for his forgiveness, would throw herself at his feet and at his mercy, would do anything and everything if it meant he’d just pull himself together until they knew that Charlie was safe.

The fact that she even had to consider that, made her sick to her stomach.

Her eyes burned the way they only could when they frantically tried to keep tears of at bay as she stared at the looming red stone building he had barred her from.

Was her slight against him really so great that it would prevent him from helping them search for his son?

“He can continue to hate me all he wants once we have found Charlie! We need to find him!”

How could he hold onto all that even now, when all that mattered was finding Charlie and making sure that he was alright?

The invisible belt around her chest tightened once more and every breath felt like she was competing against the force of a dozen men.

Or against the anger of one.

In that moment she hated him in return, and when her eyes returned to the silhouette of the house, the one he had banished her from, the one Charlie had sought to escape, she felt vile tasting disgust claw its way up her throat.

“No, Mrs Hale,”, Frances insisted, her hand finding her shoulder, “you don’t understand! Mr Shelby-”

(Y/N) never found out what Mr Shelby did or didn’t do or said or didn’t say as in that moment shouts were heard.

“We’ve found him! We’ve found him!”

The estate seemed twice as large now when they were rushing back in the direction of the house.

With every breath of the cold air she took, with every beat of her racing heart, she repeated the knowledge she had now.

They’ve found him.

Thank God they’ve found him.

They hurried towards the stables but not to where the horses were, but to the large stretched out shed at the back.

A whole host of people were outside and it took quite the effort to shove past them all.

“Why didn’t you check there earlier?”, she asked one of the estate workers.

“We don’t like to go in there, Ma’am.”, he muttered, his face as pale as winter snow.

“Who knows what’s in there?”, another added, spitting on the ground.

“What’s in there?”, she demanded to know, her heart dropping.

Her mind went to the blackest rumours that circulated around the Peaky Blinders, about the cuttings and killings. Once she had even heard that some people thought they collected the eyes they took or that they had hidden torture chambers to break the will of their enemies.

Whatever hell lay beyond these doors, she wasn’t afraid enough and did not even hesitate for a single second as she entered the stuffy dark shed as the smell of wood and leather filled her nose.

But inside, she saw no horror, no grisly scene - nothing of the sort.

Instead she was met by three different gypsy wagons, some painted and decorated, others plain and simple.

And she understood.

For a split second she was little again, staring at the reddish glow of flickering light that came from hung windows and candlelight, the scent of incense and burning herbs filling her nose.

Words, words she did not understand, chants almost, had rung out into the little courtyard.

Devil’s work, they had called it, and branded Mrs Shelby a witch for doing so.

There had been warnings too, to stay away, to not accept anything she might give them. That it was all cursed.

But she wasn’t a little girl any longer.

One brave stableboy was kneeling on the floor in front one of the two-wheeled one that had been tipped to the back to rest on the back.

When she approached, he looked up wide-eyed and shuffled back to make room.

“Charlie?”, she asked, suddenly frightened at what she might find.

Her knees touched the cold floor and she leaned forward so that she could look underneath.

“Careful,”, the stable boy warned. “It’s only tipped. If it loses balance and comes down this end it’ll crush you.”

She couldn’t deny it. The two wheels had made it like a seesaw. Pulling at one end would make it tip towards one, as the balancing bolts had been taken out.

God help me, she thought as in spite of that, she scooted under, but she couldn’t get further than the level of the two large painted wheels.

It was so dark in the shed, and even darker under there she could only make out movement.

“Charlie, are you there?”

In the darkness she picked up a slight shift but nothing more.

It might as well have been a cat.

“Tell Harry to go away!”, a whimper finally came from the darkness.

Relief made her clasp a hand over her mouth as tears threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes.

But it wasn’t over yet and so she gestured at the boy to leave, fighting to keep a fragment of her composure.

“But the wagon!”

“It’ll have to hold.”, she insisted, “go- go!”

He hesitated, but then he obeyed, leaving just the two of them.

She stretched her arm out as far as she could into the darkness.

“It’s just me now, Charlie.”, she assured him. “It’s just me.”

But her words were only met by silence.

“Charlie?”, she pleaded.

“Everyone was shouting out there.”, he whispered and she heard the tears in his voice.

“I know, but they’ve stopped now!”, she said trying to sound as cheery and light-hearted as she possibly could. But her voice still trembled.

She etched slightly further even if her shoulder began to ache, but she just had to touch him.

“Are you cross with me too?”, he said in the softest, faintest voice.

“No, no Charlie - I’m not cross with you. Not a bit!”, she insisted, her tears hitting the ground of the shed.

“You sound upset.”, he whimpered.

She struggled to find a convincing response, but no lie she could have thought up would have been enough and so she told him the truth.

“It would make me so happy to hold you right now.”, she assured him.

That broke the spell which had kept him in the dark.

He reached for her hand first and she pulled him towards her, while at the same time shuffling out from underneath that wagon on her back, her hand covering the top of his head so that he wouldn’t scrape the edge of the old wood.

And then they were out and in the light and he was in her arms again, clinging to her the way she was clinging to him.

His face was nuzzled into her chest while she pressed her nose to the top of his head, one hand on his back, the other in his hair as she clutched him as tightly as she could.

He was curled into her the way she had held Emma when she had been a baby.

For a long while she couldn’t hear or see or thing. She just held him with the same desperation as he clutched her and they both cried.

Sniffling, she finally pulled away, stroking his hair back.

“Darling, darling, I have to look at you.”, she insisted, but he only pushed his head further into her chest as if he sought to conquer a place in her heart as if it wasn’t already his.

“Charlie please, I have to see if you’re hurt!”

Only reluctantly, did he let her pull his face back slightly.

He was still wearing his pyjamas, partly stained by dirt with large wet patches on his knees and shin, as well as his sleeves.

She didn’t miss that the fabric had split on one knee and at the edges blood had mixed with dirt.

When she pried his hands away from her nightgown she saw the scraping on his palms.

It took some effort for her to be able to move her arms far enough to shrug off her coat, succeeding only once Charlie had caught onto her intentions.

Once it was off, she wrapped him up in it as best she could, leaving her only in her nightgown.

“Does anywhere else hurt?”, she asked, stroking her thumb over his palm.

He shook his head and leaned his head into her chest once more.

Sighing deeply she smoothed over his soft blond hair. It felt damp to the tough.

“What are you doing, huh?”, she asked, before cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away.

“I wanted to come to you.”, he confessed. “I want to stay with you, with you and Emma!”

His bright blue eyes were shining with tears as he reached up at her with his scratched hands shaking lips.

“I want to stay with you. Promise you won’t leave me.”

She shook her head and cupped his face.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t!”

With that all the tension seemed to flee from his muscles as he snuggled into her once more and she just held him, thanking anyone who would listen to her prayers for the fact that he was alright, and safe and warm and in her arms again.

It was long after Charlie had drifted off to a dreamless slumber of exhaustion in her arms, when her racing heart had settled enough for her to take a shuddering breath.

When she finally gathered the strength to pick him up in his arms, she made sure he was still covered in her coat before she left the shed.

The crowd of people had only ever grown and she was glad he was asleep and didn’t have to face them.

Frances rushed towards her with relief written all over her face, but when (Y/N) saw her outstretched arms, she took a step back, turning to her side to remove Charlie’s sleeping form from her view.

“We should take him back inside, Mrs Hale!”, she said softly, trying once more.

“He’s coming with me!”, (Y/N) insisted, before turning on her heel and storming back towards the cars as quickly as she could with him in her arms.

“Mrs Hale, please!”, she heard Frances as the woman caught up to her.

But when she saw the look on her face, the housekeeper’s eyes widened.

“I asked you if something was wrong,”, she hissed under her breath, “and you assured me all was well.”

Frances swallowed hard and averted her eyes.

“I asked you for Charlie’s sake and you lied to me and now look where we are! What it came to!”

“Mrs Hale, I-

“I don’t care!”, she snapped, shifting Charlie in her arms. “I honestly do not care.”

She was beyond that, far beyond.

“So you can tell Tommy whenever he sees it fit to ask after his son that he’s safe and that he’s with me! Where he will stay!”

With that she left Frances standing but she didn’t get far.

Her own voice had been hissed and Frances had spoken softly but the voice of Polly Gray rang through the darkness.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, she demanded to know, storming from the entrance of Arrow House like a fury from the stories.

But (Y/N) was no longer frightened of her, and met her flashing eyes.

“I’m taking him!”, she insisted, lifting her chin and glaring at her.

“Oh no you’re not!”, Mrs Gray argued, in an almost mocking tone, as if this was all amusing to her.

She came so close (Y/N) could not only smell the cigarette smoke on her, but also the vilest kind of a sweet smell that made her jaw clench. She reeked of sickness and other wretched smells.

“Don’t think for one second that you will put a foot out of this estate with the boy against Tommy’s will. Who do you think you are?”, she sneered in a tone so low and threatening it would should have terrified her, but like earlier in the night, her anger defeated her fear.

Despite the blinding anger in her eyes, her voice was calm, and she was unbothered by the gasps and whispers her words earned.

“I’m the one that went looking for him.”, she said unflinchingly. “Unlike you. Unlike your nephew.”

Mrs Gray bristled as if she had slapped her, which somehow made (Y/N)’s chest swell with confidence.

“How dare you?”, she spat. “Tommy’s his father.”

“And a what a father he is.”, she shot right back.

Even now, he didn’t show his face, sending his aunt in his stead.

Mrs Gray’s dark eyes turned cold.

“Give me that boy!”, she demanded.

(Y/N) didn’t move a single muscle.

“Give him to me or I will take him from you!”, she threatened and looked ready to claw her eyes out.

“Mrs Gray!”, Frances said, coming from the sidelines, stepping in between the two women, her back to (Y/N) and Charlie.

“Perhaps Mrs Hale and Emma could stay here. For Charlie. He’ll only try again, Mrs Gray. You know he will.”

The other woman’s jaw clenched.

“Mrs Gray, please!”, Frances insisted. “It’ll be what’s best for the boy. We can put them in the guest wing, far away from - from you know.

And everything else can be discussed when Mr Shelby-”

“Fine!”, she sneered, cutting Frances off sharply before pointing her finger at her.

“But only for the boy’s sake!”

With that she stormed back towards the house.

She hated the idea with every fibre of her being.

Her whole body and soul revolted against the prospect of entering let alone staying in this house with the children.

Instead everything screamed at her to take them away from this place but she couldn't.

All the maids and servants had been gathered for the search, and there was no way she could force her way out with the children. She’d need an army for that, and another if she hoped to get far.

Once before she had tried to find ways to escape with Charlie, before she knew of his identity. Even then it had been risky and unlikely, but now knowing who he was, it bordered insanity to even try, not without an incredibly good plan and great allies.

But at least this way she had them together.

A shudder had come over her when she had first heard her heels click in the entrance hall of Arrow House.

The flickering lights of the electric lamps did little to dispel the darkness.

Once inside Frances tried to take Charlie again, but she shut her down immediately.

He'd stay with her. They both would.

She still did not know what had made him want to run and until she did, she wouldn't even consider letting them out of her sight.

Finally, Frances had relented and shown her to a guest room. It was the last room in the last corridor and it took several minutes just to walk there.

But it was large with a grand bed large enough for two adults.

In a few minutes, the maids had made up the room, but it was void of recent use and seemed cold to her.

Emma had thankfully slept throughout the entire thing, from when (Y/N) had taken her out of her bed, not wanting to leave her alone in Warburton House when needing everyone for the search, nor during the time she spent sleeping in Lisa’s lap in the car while her mother stumbled through the darkness.

Even when she was placed on the bed, she only chewed in her sleep and rolled over.

She couldn't do that with Charlie just yet.

Laying him down on the sofa at the corner of the room, she began to unbutton the shirt of his blue silk pyjamas.

"Here is the warm water, the iodine and an ointment.", Frances explained in a whisper as she brought it in, accompanied by another maid who held not only a spare set of pyjamas for him.

"Thank you.", She forced out.

Charlie had scrapes on his knees and palms and she first took care to rinse the dirt from them before applying the iodine as gently as she could.

He winced, but didn't wake.

All the while, Frances was standing behind her, not wanting to leave but not daring to raise her voice either, being silently and watchfully helpful.

Once Charlie's wounds were tended to, she put him into a new set of pyjamas and carried him over to the bed, putting him down next to Emma.

This was far from the first time these two had shared a bed and neither was disturbed in their sleep by the presence of the other.

The tranquillity the two of them radiated was almost enough to melt her anxiety away.

“We’ve put out some clothes for you, Mrs Hale.”, she said softly, nodding to a pile placed on the dresser.

“Is there anything else you need?”

(Y/N) turned slowly to face her.

Exhaustion had drained parts of her anger but a large portion still remained.

"An explanation.", She said, her low tone making her voice lose none of it’s sharpness.

The other woman swallowed hard and apparently rid herself of her tongue in the process as no words passed her lips.

"I want to leave with them as soon as possible.", She told the housekeeper.

"I doubt Mrs Gray would allow that without Mr Shelby's permission."

The mention of his name sent shots of electric pain through her body.

He still hadn't shown his face and with every second that passed, the pit in her stomach grew deeper.

Funny, really, how quickly affection, care and compassion could turn to cold, biting disgust.

Shaking her head she controlled her voice only for the children's sake.

"His boy goes missing in the middle of the night and he doesn't even care enough to show his face."

Saying it hurt in a different kind of way, the biting, throbbing way only disappointment could.

Charlie deserved better, and a part of her thought she deserved better too.

But maybe it was her fault?

Maybe this no contact decree he had imposed on her had now extended to Charlie?

No, that was too much. Despite his flaws, Tommy did love his boy. She had seen it countless times, and would have sworn on the Holy Bible for it.

At least before tonight’s betrayal.

She still couldn't believe that he could hate her that much to let it cloud his love for his son.

"It's not that, Mrs. Hale.", Frances said, her voice so uncommonly faint it sounded almost fragile.

"I'm sure he would have been right there with you if he had been able."

"What do you mean 'if he had been able?", She demanded to know, as a cold shudder ran down her spine.

Frances shifted once more as if she searched for a way out of the corner she had painted herself into.

“I shouldn’t say.”

“I think we are far passed what should and shouldn’t happen.”

The other woman nodded, but still averted her eyes before starting to speak.

"Mr. Shelby's not been well.", She told the expensive wooden floorboards.

"Not been well?", (Y/N) repeated, as something else mixed in with her anger and disappointment.

"Y-you should get some sleep, Mrs. Hale.", She assured her with a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Tell me.", (Y/N) asked, her voice for the first time since this nightmare had started a few hours ago, completely calm.

And maybe that was the reason why she did speak.

"He's been drinking a lot- more even than his usual.", She began, "and all the whisky and gin doesn't help with his gunshot wound."

Her eyes widened.

"A gunshot wound?"

Tommy hadn't gotten shot in the confrontation with Luca- there had been pain yes, but no but holes. She would have seen it and she would have remembered.

Frances nodded.

“It heals poorly and the drink doesn't mix well with the medicine he takes and we've lost track of the medicine he doesn't take. It makes him…I can’t really describe it.”

An icy cold began to spread through (Y/N) as she listened.

Her eyes met (Y/N)s and she imagined seeing fear in them. "He's in a bad way, Mrs. Hale. A very, very bad way."

End of Part 19

Part 20

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy

The Boy in the Window

@katiebugg03 @esistmon @chlorrox @theshelbyslimited @budugu @woofgocows @orkwardx0 @judig92 @100percentamess @kabbuu @esposadomd @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @starsnsecrets @ladylovesalot @katiepie67 @acoolnight @chaotic-onigiri @ohshititsfenharel @muhahaha303 @xoprincessmel @shittingonyourgrave @pessimisticbiitch @elisa20beth @simran-preet19 @majesticcmey @akiisbae @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @vodkainthecoffee @pearlstiare @jk-acc @cutecurly-hair @lovecleastrange @kishie8 @kirenia15 @nervousmumbling @babayaga67 @mbv2361 @pheitvsx @alessioayla @kishie08 @butterfly-skinnylegendegend @mrsmalfoyshelby @lostgirl219 @rangerelik @kishie8 @burninggracesandbridges @just-a-harmless-patato @globetrotter28

#the boy in the window #valentineswritings #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #Thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic

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gwendolynlerman · 5 months

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I'm in New York City for the week, and today I went to Chinatown and bought some Chinese pastries. I bought a red bean cake (紅豆蛋糕), a winter melon cake (老婆餅), and a mooncake (月饼). The lady was so nice that she gave me four fortune cookies for free! I had wanted to order in Mandarin, but (as always) I chickened out and only managed to say 谢谢你啊 and 再见 🙃

Today is Thanksgiving, and everyone seemed to be extra nice. The day has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for me, though. I was annoyed because I missed Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade by half an hour because I had an online exam and presentation in the morning.

Then, I was hangry because it was 2:30 p.m. and I couldn't find an Italian restaurant that was open and not incredibly expensive. I ended up in a semi-fancy one, where I ate a $21 margherita pizza 🙃 The servers were really nice, but I made a bit of a fool of myself while trying to leave a tip. This is the second time I've been to a restaurant in the U.S. and I didn't know that you can pay the meal, write the tip on the receipt, and then they will charge the tip on your card, so I was like "But don't you need me to swipe my card again for the tip?". I bet they were probably thinking that I was dumb 😂 After I finally understood it, I said "Sorry, I'm not from around here" ("Around here" meaning "This country" xD), which was even lamer.

On a more disturbing note, I did see a guy talking to himself in the subway. He also insulted some cops that were on the opposite platform, and they just laughed, which made him madder. I would have thought that insulting the cops is a crime, but maybe it isn't 🤷🏻‍♀️ And I randomly passed by a crime scene, probably a murder one, because the ambulance left without turning the lights and didn't seem to be in a rush.

Well, that's NYC for you 🙃

#langblr #mandarin

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jpitha · 1 year

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Just a Little Further 30

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

We sent the Venusians home today.

We left them enough thruster to travel to the Gate and traverse, enough environmental systems to keep them alive - so long as they stuck to their quarters and the Command Deck - and... that was mostly it. Oh, we did take the entirety of their weapons. I even had their weapon lockers stripped. We now have a good supply of high quality rifles and small arms. I gave a few to Sep and asked them duplicate them and begin training. I also promised to stop by later and give some tips in the finer points of their operation.

When I saw their faces when they saw what I was sending them home in, I admit I cackled just a teeny bit. We made sure it was survivable and they won't be injured, but their ship looks like a joke. Large pieces are missing from the hull, whole rooms exposed to vacuum, the thrusters we left them are undersized for what would normally be used, and so on. I imagine they are going to have an... interesting time going through joint human/K'laxi space.

The wormhole generator was destroyed in the explosion, so they can't link home, so what they'll do after they reach human space an the end of the Gates is a bit of a mystery. They won't be trapped though, there are plenty of human Starbases or colonies they could reach via the Gates and ask someone to link a beacon to Venus so they could get a ride the rest of the way.

They don't use AIs at all either. Their ships run with only human crews, so it's not like we left some poor AI behind to drag their own corpse home. It's just a ship.

Well, it's 65% or so of a ship.

As for Raaden and Emery, I did wind up going with the option Ava and I discussed. We found an empty apartment building that was close - but not directly next to - the Royal Dawn. It had two empty apartments and we put Raaden, and Emery in separate apartments quite a long distance from each other. The apartments are guarded all hours of the day, and meals are sent up.

It feels like I just stuffed them into a corner and are trying to forget about them, and I guess I did, but I that's what having hostages is sometimes. I'm trying to make sure they're comfortable and well taken care of. Emery has seemed to accept his lot. He mostly reads and sketches. When he asked for art supplies he seemed excited when we brought him paper and pencils that were native to the Reach. He spends his time looking out the window and sketching what he sees. I've seen a few of them; the drawings are actually quite lovely. I have a feeling he's pretty used to being stuck in a corner somewhere and told to entertain himself.

Raaden... hasn't accepted her lot so easily. She's tried to escape twice already and the only thing that has prevented it was her unfamiliarity with the locks. After the second attempt I had to use my Voice to make her stop trying to break out. Now she just sits in her apartment and alternates between seething and sulking. I almost wish we had a hibernation cabinet to put her into. She'd be less of a problem if she was just on ice the whole time.

Wait a moment. I wonder if Omar can print one? I'm sure there are plans for one in the printer database we got from FarReach. I should ask.

Ginny we put up in the Royal Dawn. Not right near our rooms, but in a room in the hotel. I did use my Voice to order her not to talk to Raaden and Emery and to not have any contact with Venus without our permission, but she knew why and accepted the order.

Yes, we did decide to let Ginny stay. Of all of the people we interviewed she was the only one who actually wanted to be here. Everyone else was indifferent to it or was being actively ordered to be here. That was what finally convinced Ava, Omar, Um'reli and Starlight. We won't give her the Builder package for a long time, if ever, but that still doesn't mean we don't need the help. We don't have her doing much right now, but she is shadowing Sound of the City and they love that they have a helper and someone they get to show the Reach. Maybe I'll take her with us when we go to the Wilds of Besmara. She might enjoy that.

I'm just finishing up breakfast in the Royal Dawn when Omar comes in. "Melody, what are we going to do with all the parts we took from the Lavinia?"

I can't help myself. "Put them on a Starship, Omar."

"Melody. Which Starship? High Line and Sun Dancer are done. We'd have to put them back into the dock to add things to them, Immar IV isn't done, but do we want to put all the parts on that one?"

Ah I see. If we put the Venusian parts on High Line or Sun Dancer, then that delays how long before we can go to the Wilds of Besmara.

"Let's keep them off High Line and Sun Dancer for now. I do want to go to the Wilds now that we've dealt with Venus. Once we're back and Immar IV is done, why don't we start construction on a whole new ship?"

"A whole new ship?" Omar sits down at my breakfast table and looks off into the middle distance, thinking. "Yes, we could do it. I think we have a handle on how things work now. We would add the Venusian parts, of course. That would save a lot of time. I'd make a dreadnought of our own - smaller than the Venus or other human ones - but it would still pack a punch."

"See? What a great idea I had." I'm laughing, but I mean it. I think it's high time we make our own Starships. I wish we had more printers, we could really get production going, but it's not like we need a whole fleet right away. Slow and steady progress is fine.

"Omar, do you want to pilot High Line when we take it over to the Wilds? I want to go next week, and we need to figure some things out. You piloted it during the shakedown, but this will be our first Gate traversal since we came here."

"Yes, I'd like to drive if you're okay with that. We should have the others take a turn so we all get experience with it - it's different than being the Reach - but for now, I'll take us over. Who is going to come? We should probably leave at least one Builder here."

"I agree. I wanted you and Ava and Starlight to come, and we can let Um'reli run things while we're away. I want Ginny to come too."

Omar breaks his reverie. "Ginny? Why?"

"I want to show her she's not a prisoner like Raaden and Emery. She was the only one who wanted to be here. Might as well start treating her like that. Plus, we could use a reactor tech on High Line."

"You make a good point. Fine. Ginny can come too. We don't really need much of anyone else. With Builder systems I can run most of High Line from the chair. I wonder if it feels the same when an AI runs a ship? I'm doing a similar role."

"I don't know. If we ever get back to our side of the Galaxy we should ask." I really find lately I'm missing stuff from home. I hope once were done visiting some Starbases on this side we can go home, just for a visit. "I'd like to open up some lines of trade too. I bet people over there would like some of our foodstuffs and I sure could use some coffee." I looked wistfully at my cup of tea on the table. I hadn't had coffee since talking with the Venusians. I was trying to save what little she had for special occasions, but it's so hard!

"One thing at a time, Melody. Let's do see if we can figure out what happened at the Wilds. Then, see if we can find any other Starbases or colonies. We could finish the exploration that FarReach abandoned."

I looked up at Omar in surprise. "That's it. We can continue the mission! Just because FarReach declared Captain Q'ari unfit and left doesn't mean that there isn't good things to learn out here." I jumped up and gave Omar a hug. "Thanks Omar. It really helps to talk things out sometimes."

"No problem Melody, glad to help."

I leave the Royal Dawn and start walking towards the Throne, thinking while I walk.

We're going to go to the Wilds of Besmara with the refurbished High Line and see what's up. Last time we went there was some kind of field that grabbed FarReach and started to pull it in. Maybe it was an overzealous landing field? I don't know. Either way, if it happens again, I think we want to let it take us in.

Also, that warning. I know now it was in the Voice, but it was over radio which - for me at least - commands in the Voice don't work. I wonder how it was in the Voice, I thought that was just an Empress thing. Maybe it was a recording? All these mysteries. We just have to go and find out for ourselves.

I take a long way to the Throne and say hello to people as I walk. When I first got here, people were so frightened of us, but now people tell me hello, they give me little bits of news from their world, I even get to meet families! More than once I've been told how nice it is that I was able to increase the food deliveries. As plain old Melody I was often intimidated making small talk with people and would try and avoid it, but when I'm Empress, I find it's much easier. It almost feels like I'm pretending to be the Empress; like it's a persona to put on and take off. When I'm with Ava in our room I'm just Melody, but when the gown comes on and I walk around I'm The Empress.

It's hard to explain. I wish I knew more people that had gone though this to see if it's normal. I guess, when you're the only Empress around, anything you do is normal, by virtue of the fact that you're the one doing it.

I make my way to the Throne and settle in. Ava, Um'reli and Starlight are there already. I can feel Um'reli and Ava showing Starlight how to work things.

"See Starlight, if you just look... over here... you can see the transit network."

"Yes, yes, I see. It looks like we have the trains on schedule and... wait, what's that one on that siding?"

"That's Melody's Royal Transport. She likes to use it when she feels like showing off, or if she needs to get somewhere after hours or when things are too busy to wait for a scheduled train."

Mentally, I look up at them "I don't use it to show off. I use it when I want to make an entrance."

"Okay, so when Emp-Melody's not showing off, she stores it over here?" I smile to myself when I hear the smirk in Starlight's tone. When I made them a builder, I let them call me Melody. I decided it would be weird for Ava, Um'reli and Omar to call me Melody, but Starlight has to call me Empress, and I didn't want to make everyone call me Empress as well, so Builder Starlight can call me Melody. They're still getting used to it.

"Um'reli, you're okay with staying here and running things while the rest of us go to the Wilds of Besmara to see what happened to them?"

"Sure Melody, it's fine. I have reports to go over on reactor efficiency. We have enough of a power surplus now we should look at taking down the reactors one at a time for refurbishment. I don't think it's ever been done!"

"What do you mean, take the reactor down for refurbishment?" Starlight looks curious as Um'reli and I talk.

"So, at least with our reactors, they need regular maintenance. We usually build our systems with enough overhead that they can run with one whole reactor down so we can work on it, or if one fails we can swap it out without inconveniencing anyone. Before we got here, the Reach had enough power, but I wouldn't have dreamed of shutting a reactor off. Now, I think we can turn one off, make sure it's in good condition and then turn it back on, move on to the next and so on."

"That's impressive, Builder Um'reli. You have found so many ways to improve efficiency."

"Just Um'reli is fine, you're a Builder now too, remember. But, thank you. I enjoy working with the reactors. I hope we can get Ginny up and helping us too, it will be useful to have someone else - someone who actually took some training on this and isn't just an enthusiastic amateur - take a look at things."

"Okay, good. Omar is going to drive, I'll sit in the Command chair, Ava can monitor systems, Starlight can let us know if there's anything we're missing with local information and Ginny is coming along to prove to her that she's not just another hostage like Raaden and Emery."

Ava looks up from the report she's reading. "I like it Melody, it seems like a good plan. Ugh, I wish there was something we could do about Raaden. I don't trust her as far as I could throw her."

"I know! I was thinking about it on the walk over. What if we printed a hibernation cabinet for her? I know that Starjumpers carry them, and that FarReach used to be one so I assume their printer database has the plans."

"Actually, I think that could work. Let's ask Omar how tough it would be to print one up. On the one hand, I don't like the idea of just sticking her in a closet until we decide what to do with her, but on the other... I don't know what to do with her. She'll never trust us, and we can never trust her."

"Exactly."

Starlight looks like they are warring with themselves over something. After a moment, a decision is made. "Melody, why did you keep her anyway? If it was me in charge, I would have declared her culpable for Rapid River Roaring's death and had them executed."

Now everyone is looking at me. "Starlight, for right now, she's worth more to us alive than dead. If we killed her and sent the Venusians home with their ship stripped and them humiliated they would have come right back with all their dreadnoughts and just fired upon us as soon as they traversed the Gate. No radio, no opportunity to use the Voice on them, just kaboom. This way, with Raaden, their Archduke and Crown Prince Emery, they have to think twice about whether to come in guns hot or not."

"Ah, I see. Yes Melody. You are making it so that we are too valuable to outright destroy. But, what do we do when they want their crown prince and their archduke back? Or worse, what if they don't want them back?"

My shoulder slump. "I don't know yet. As soon as we figure out a deal and we give them Raaden and Emery they don't have a reason to not come in and destroy us."

Starlight's eyes are bright. "Well then. We just need to be better armed then they are by then. We can then repel them the regular way."

"Hah. That's the best idea I've heard so far Starlight. For now, we'll go with that plan. Once we come back from the Wilds, Omar was going to look into building a dreadnought from the parts we... liberated from Venus. Do you know of any Aviens plans for large warships?"

"Actually, yes. I believe we have some plans for a ship like that. We should try and reach out to more of my people. Ever since our ancestors were trapped here, we have not heard from any other of our kind."

"Starlight, I was wondering, what did trap you and the Mariens and others here all those years ago?" Um'reli and Ava look up at Omar's question. I guess we were all wondering it.

"I wish I knew Omar. My parent's parents were the original ones left here, but they wouldn't talk about it. From what I can gather, there was... a war, or something like it. The last Builders left the Reach to... do... something and never returned. My parent's parents did mention that the first few years after the Builders left were very difficult."

"Another mystery to solve then. I want to get going. Hey Omar, do you think you can print a hibernation cabinet?"

"Probably Melody, what for?"

"For Raaden. I just don't trust her to be awake and around while we leave to do explore the Wilds of Besmara. I was thinking of putting her in a cabinet and sticking her on board in hibernation. Crown Prince Emery seems fine, we could probably leave him here under guard."

"Melody that's brilliant! We don't have to deal with her trying to escape and we can carry her around as a kind of... talisman against Venus attacks. You just have to get her into it."

"Leave that part to me."

It actually only takes Omar a few hours to print the hibernation cabinet. When you have printers that can make a whole starship in a few weeks, one small hibernation cabinet is hardly a feat. It comes out gleaming and white, looking like a long lozenge or pill from the medical department. On the top is a clear window to see the face of the resident and on the side is a small readout of vitals. I ask Omar to let me borrow some people, and an Aviens and Azurian wheel the cabinet behind me as we walk.

In front of the apartment complex it's clear that the cabinet is much too large to bring up to Raaden's room. "Wait here please. I will be down with them in a moment."

Upstairs, I nod to the guards and knock on the door before opening it. "Raaden, come here please."

"Go to hell mmmmmm-Empress."

I don't have time for this. "F̷̗͝o̸͔͌l̷̺̊l̴̨̃o̶̦̾w̵̡͠ ̶͔͘m̷̢̒ē̵̬.̸̹̊ Raaden." She gets up out of the other room and robotically walks to me. Her eyes radiate hatred, but she follows none the less.

We get to the bottom floor and I open the door to leave and she catches a glimpse of the cabinet. Raaden's eyes go wide and the snarl of hatred on her face is replaced with a new emotion.

Terror.

"No! No no no no! You're not going to put me in one of those! Please! Please Empress! Don't put me in a hibernation cabinet! I won't escape! Please! Don't put me in there!"

I stop and turn, surprised. "What? Why not Raaden? It's just a hibernation cabinet. It's brand new. Omar printed it up from our copy of FarReach's printer database. It's not even a local design, it's one of ours."

She's standing in the doorway, shaking. She is legitimately terrified of the hibernation cabinet. "I-I-Its a form of punishment in Imperial Venus. For people who have... displeased the Emperor. A person is placed into the hibernation cabinet and then they... manipulate the settings. They change the person's sense of the passage of time. A day can feel like centuries."

You know, I actually feel bad for Raaden right now. That sounds like a horrible punishment.

"Raaden, I'm not going to manipulate your perception of time. We're going to run you deep enough that you won't have any perception of time passing. It'll be just like when people were put in cabinets for Starjumper trips before the wormhole generators. You'll go in, and then you'll awaken on Venus when we've worked out the details with the Emperor."

"Possibly, or else I'll never wake up for my failure. Or worse, I will but it will be after ten thousand years subjective and I'm a gibbering mess. Empress, I am actually begging you." She gets down on her knees in the door way and bows down "Please. Please. Don't put me in hibernation. I will literally do anything else." She puts her head up and her cheeks are wet with tears and she's shaking. She whispers. "Please, don't."

I... I can't. It's too cruel. I look at her and try and concentrate. Is she just acting? No. I think she is completely terrified of going into hibernation.

Ugh.

I sit on the cabinet and reach out to my Builders. "Hey. Raaden is like, wet her pants terrified of going into hibernation. She's literally begging me not to do it."

Is it a put on, is she just really good at acting?

I don't think so. My heightened body language processing says she's being honest.

Just order her to do it anyway, use your Voice.

Doesn't that seem unnecessarily cruel to you? We'd be leveraging a legitimate phobia just to make things easier on us. She'd never forgive us.

You still think she'll forgive us?

Hey, we have a responsibility to treat our prisoners humanely, and that includes not torturing them. This would be torture for her.

They wouldn't have the same consideration of us.

All the more reason for us to treat her better.

Okay then, what do we do with her?

Take her with us.

WHAT?

Take her with us. She'll still be on board, I can order her around with the Voice and we'll still bring the cabinet. If she causes trouble I'll order her into it and we'll be done with it. This is her chance to show us how much she doesn't want to be in the cabinet.

Or for her to show us how good of an actor she is.

Ava, I'm pretty sure she's not acting.

Ugh fine. She can come. Let me get a room ready and strengthen the locks on it.

Thanks Omar.

I look up. Raaden has gotten up from the floor but her eyes are still wide with fear. She is working very hard to control it, but fear of the cabinet is still very strong. She truly is terrified of being put into it.

"Raaden. I won't put you into the hibernation cabinet."

As I complete the sentence, her body relaxes and she starts breathing heavily.

"Yet."

She tightens up and holds her breath again.

"You're coming with us on the High Line to explore the Wilds of Besmara. I need insurance against Venus, and if you won't get into the cabinet then you'll come along. I will also bring the cabinet so if you cause us even a small amount of trouble I will just order you into the cabinet and be done with it."

I narrow my eyes and meet her gaze, "Do you understand?"

She stands straight and tall and matches my gaze, looking me in the eyes. "I will not betray you, nor will I attempt to escape, nor will I sabotage any aspect of your mission. So long as it keeps me out of that thing, I will be good."

"See that you do." I jump off the cabinet and gesture to my helpers. "Bring this to High Line. Omar will show you were to put it. "C̵͖͋o̷̤̒m̶͉̍e̶̩͛ ̶̰̎R̷͈̅ä̵̮å̷̡d̴͍̒e̶̙͝n̷̬̓.̶̀ͅ, I will bring you back to your apartment."

She follows me without struggling this time. I stop at the entry to her apartment. "We'll be back tomorrow morning. Do you have any requests for food or drink onboard?"

She blinks. "You're asking my opinion?"

"Well yes. You're going to be onboard with us for at least a week, if not more. You deserve to have some input."

She runs her hand through her close cropped hair, surprised. "Uh, I don't like coffee, so don't bother giving me any. I know you love the stuff, so don't waste any on me."

Oh nice. More coffee for me then. "Thank you. We'll be by tomorrow after breakfast."

She nods and moves to close the door. "Until then."

After the door closes and I lock it, I look at the guards and they acknowledge me. "Empress" they both say, and then face forward, silently.

Part 31

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans go on adventure #humans are space oddities #sci fi writing #writing #humans and ai #humans and aliens #the k'laxiverse #jpitha #just a little further

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canirove · 1 year

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Best friends… forever? | Chapter 21

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rúben."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mila. Please come in."

"Thank you" she says as she walks into their apartment. "I got you something."

"Chocolates?"

"Yep. My favourite ones. And you can't say no to eating at least one, you promised."

"I'll eat one, don't worry" he chuckles. "I also got you something."

"Aww, red roses. How original” Mila says, rolling her eyes.

"I always get you red roses for Valentine's Day, it's our tradition."

"I know, I was just teasing you. Thank you.”

"Why don't we sit down and talk for a bit, uh?" Rúben says, moving towards the sofa.

"Yeah, sure" she replies, following him.

"So..." he says after a few seconds in silence. "I wanted to apologize for what happened at the game. Jealousy took over me, and I hate it. I'm not like that. At all."

"I know that you aren't."

"And I also was a dick when I asked you to move out. I don't know why I was so cold with you.”

"Well, I had hurt you. You were on your right to behave like that" she shrugs.

"But I could have been an adult, you know? Do things differently."

"It's ok, Rúben. I deserved it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were right. I kept saying one thing and then doing the opposite, I played with your feelings. And instead of trying to figure out how I felt like normal people do, I followed Eva's advice and slept with a guy to prove some kind of theory."

"A theory? What theory?"

"That if I was able to flirt with a guy without thinking about you, then make out and have sex with him without also thinking about you, it meant that I didn't have actual feelings for you."

"And?"

"I didn't think about you."

"I see..." Rúben says, not being able to keep looking at her.

"But he apparently looks like you, so the theory didn't work."

"It didn't?" he asks, looking at her again, his heart starting to beat really fast.

"Nope. All the girls agreed on it, so" Mila shrugs.

"What does that mean, then?"

"It means..." It means that I love you, Rúben, she says to herself. "It means that Rafa didn't mean anything, he is just a friend. And also that I've figured out how I feel, but that I'm not ready to be open about it. Not yet."

"Ok."

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? No, no" Rúben says, taking Mila's hand on his. "I'm... Can I be completely honest?"

"Of course."

"I'm relieved you don't feel anything for that Rafa. For a minute there I thought the worst."

"He is just a friend. Yes, we slept together, but he also knew nothing else was going to happen. And in the friends scale, he is at the bottom, definitely not close to the girls or Bruno and Diogo for example."

"I didn't know you had a friends scale."

"I just made it up" she laughs.

"And may I ask who is at the top?" Rúben asks with a smile.

"I'll tell you if you eat a chocolate."

"Oh, c'mon."

"Those are the rules. You eat a chocolate, I tell you a secret."

"Ok" Rúben says, getting up from the sofa and picking the box from the table where he had left it, letting go of Mila's hand and instantly making her miss his touch. "Are they all the same?"

"No, they are a mix. The ones with white chocolate on the top are my favourites."

"Then I'll eat one of those first" he says as he sits down and opens the box.

"And?" Mila asks.

"I hate it."

"Rúben!" she says, hitting him in the arm.

"It's good, it's good" he laughs. "I was teasing you."

"Idiot."

"Now, tell me. Who is at the top of that friends scale?"

"And idiot who thinks it's funny to lie about the best chocolates in the world."

"I don't know him."

"Mimimimimi" Mila says, making fun of him and crossing her arms over her chest, trying very hard not to smile. This feels like them, like how things used to be. It feels good.

"If I eat another chocolate... Will you tell me another secret?"

"What?"

"You said that those were the rules. I eat a chocolate, you tell me a secret. So if I eat... This one" Rúben says after checking them all. "What secret are you telling me?"

"That's one I don't like."

"It wasn't that bad. But since you don't like it, now you must tell me a juicy secret."

"A juicy secret" she laughs.

"Yeah... Something like... Who is better, me or Rafa?"

"At what?"

"At playing football I obviously am, so you can guess what I'm thinking about."

"Urgh, men" Mila says, rolling her eyes.

"I ate the chocolate, I deserve an answer."

"Ok, fine... You" she says very low, covering her face with her hands and feeling like she is turning as red as her United shirt.

"Ha, I knew it! I'm gonna eat another chocolate to celebrate."

"Another one? Who are you and where is my best friend the super healthy?" she laughs.

"Super healthy and sex God."

"Rúben!" Mila laughs again. "Did that chocolate have alcohol on it and already affect you?"

"Maybe" he says, checking the box and making her laugh again. He had missed that sound so much, that he doesn't mind looking like an idiot as long as he can hear it for a bit longer.

"C'mon, I want one too" she says, taking to box from his hands.

"Let's do a toast."

"With chocolates?"

"Yes, with chocolates. To us being best friends forever."

"To us being best friends forever" Mila replies.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mila, you are falling asleep."

"No, I'm not."

"Then why do I feel your head getting closer and closer to my shoulder?" Rúben asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Gravity" she shrugs.

"I thought Maguire was the one with the big head. Is it something that happens to all of you after playing for United for a while? Does your head get bigger?"

"Shut up!" she says, hitting him on the chest with her fist.

"Ouch, that hurts!"

"Good" Mila replies with a big smile. "Now, can I rest my big head on your shoulder, or will it be too heavy? I thought you were like the one of the strongest players."

"Come here" Rúben says, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"Too heavy?"

"It feels perfect."

"It does, doesn't it?" she says, curling her body against his.

"It does" he says before kissing the top of her head.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mila..." Rúben whispers. "The movie just ended."

But he gets no answer. She has fallen asleep, her arm and leg hugging him like a koala, barely allowing him to move.

"Ok" he whispers again, slowly moving her until she is on top of him and he can carry her like a little kid.

"No... No, no, no" she purrs against his chest.

"No what?"

"Ella, no."

"You are dreaming. Ok" Rúben chuckles before getting up from the sofa and walking towards her room.

"Cold" Mila complains when he leaves her on her bed, moving to be on fetal position.

"Better like this?" he says, covering her. The fact that she can sleep with sheets, a blanket and a duvet, is something he will never understand. "How does that feel?"

But she doesn't answer, she's fast asleep once again.

"Good night, Mila" Rúben says, kissing her forehead.

"Rúben" she murmurs when he makes it to the door.

"Uh?"

"Rúben..." she murmurs again, turning her back at him, still sleeping. "Amo-te."

"I love you too, Mila" he says before leaving her room, not being able to stop smiling.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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corvid-language-library · 3 months

Text

Language Learning Log 2024 Week 4 (21/01 ~ 27/01)

Photo: Still absolutely in love with the snow! I went for a walk around Kajo Park and took this photo of the moat the day after a snowstorm.

Japanese

Listened to the radio

Renshuu app

Reviewed vocab with anki

Started reading Japanese Stories For Language Learners

9x Jujutsu Kaisen episodes

Minna No Nihongo unit 6

Migii JLPT app

Idodori app

Kanji dojo app

Norwegian

3x journal entries

1 unit of Enjoy Norwegian

Made & queued more Norwegian Word of the Day posts

Chatted for 2 hours with a friend

I'd been feeling pretty demotivated about Japanese because I felt like I hadn't made any progress for months, but I finally started watching anime again and managed to catch quite a few words, and sometimes I could match up the translated subtitles to the Japanese words. I also went back through the anki decks I made for the N4 and realised how many of the words previously graded E or F I now know without really thinking.

Of course, there are still plenty of words I struggle with. But I'm getting there. Maybe by the end of next month I'll be able to move on to learning N3 properly. I've already started on N3 kanji (and, by extension, some vocabulary). I really need to focus on grammar though honestly.

I made a start on Enjoy Norwegian too, again. I've had this textbook for a long time and I keep saying I'm gonna actually use it and then I forget lmao. Unit 1 was pretty easy so I mostly just read aloud and answered questions aloud, focusing on pronunciation.

And then I had a 2-hour conversation with my Norwegian teacher. I booked a 1-hour lesson even though he said I didn't need to pay him, he just missed me and wanted to catch up. We've become pretty good friends honestly which is kinda cool, and we only stopped talking because I had to go to bed.

Last week's goals:

Learn the first bridge + second verse of 少女S - I'm more or less there with the first bridge (although I need the lyrics sometimes) but the second verse still needs work

1 chapter of Minna No Nihongo - Yes, I completed ch 6

At least 1 HIIT session and 2 stretching sessions - I did yoga twice, two HIIT sessions, went for a walk and did some dance. Go me!

Finish January's beginner Norwegian crash course + another 2-3 of February's WOTD posts - I queued half of the remaining posts and another week's worth of February's posts. Truly an ADHD mood lmao

This week's goals:

Learn second verse + bridge of 少女S

1 chapter of Minna No Nihongo

1 unit of Enjoy Norwegian

Finish queuing January's content + another week (up to day 21) of February's content

At least 4 stretching sessions/yoga + 2 other kinds of exercise

#progress report #language learning log #japanese langblr #norwegian langblr #langblr #language blog #learning languages

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golbrocklovely · 8 months

Text

okay since a bunch of you asked, here is my review of kris' podcast with snc ! :)

first off, i highly recommend you go watch it. i'll link it right here. it was seriously so fun to watch and very silly. but it had some really good points in it too.

i'll give some overall thoughts and then i'll point out random things that i liked.

so i think the flow of their conversation thru out the podcast was really fun, even if they were hung over from the night before. kris is really good at interviewing ppl, or at least snc. so i'm interested to see her do other podcasts in the future.

the beer pong element was a fun way to break up the podcast without getting it too far off topic.

this podcast also really made me love kris. i've watched her from time to time, never been a huge fan or anything. just someone that i could occasionally throw on in the background or whatever. but her banter with snc… top notch. i want to be friends with her just so we could sass snc together.

they were all so giggly together and it was just so cute to see. 10/10 watch this podcast again.

also…. was it just me or was she flirting with colby??? i KNOW they are just friends. i'm not actually shipping them…. but if they ever got together i wouldn't be mad. just saying.

okay, here are some random things that i liked that happened during the podcast:

kris saying colby should do voice acting: YES. she is just like me forreal. especially with the mics she was using, my god his voice is hot.

the reoccurring joke that colby is conceited was kinda fun, until i started thinking of ppl taking it too seriously. that man already gets enough shit, yall better STOP before it gets bad lol

kris' hair looks so nice. i love that color on her. it really warms up her face.

when kris made the joke of "are you guys gonna quit now since you hit 10 mil", and colby said "he (sam) gets to decide that, not me." and then followed it up by explaining their dynamic as "he's the leader and i'm lazy as hell, i don't do anything." this man was feeling SPICY that day lol i love sassy colby it's kinda my favorite

"i'm the girlfriend." - colby brock

sam being the stern one and colby being the go with the flow one makes perfect fucking sense. have i not said this before a 1000 times lol

sam not respecting astrology ppl but then admitting that it's kinda true…. something is not clicking there, cheif

i said this in an ask but them not being able to see but refusing to get glasses; yall are too rich to be BLIND

what is with snc getting houses or staying in places with no ac??? that could NEVER be me omg

so snc ended up mentioning the conjuring house and that what happened there is gonna change lives and might get on national news……. i'll try to say this in a positive way: i LOVE that snc love to shoot for the stars when it comes to their content. and them believing in their own content, being passionate about it, is really nice to see. but like… bffr.

kris having a snapchat group with snc, that's adorable.

i highly recommend watching the part from 20:46 - 21:23. i want this shit to be permanently on repeat in my mind forever. everything about it was a masterpiece. - kris whooping snc's ass - colby complaining the table being too long - kris saying "i'm throwing the same shots as you boi, i'm throwing the same shots as you baby." - the look colby gives her when she says boi (😀), and then the look when she says baby (😏) - kris then saying to sam when he misses a shot "is your mom proud of you?" and then colby's face???? I LOVED EVERY MOMENT

colby saying he can't read comments bc they just make him feel bad breaks my heart. that sometimes he has to refuse to read them just bc they get to him too much. i need everyone to rewatch that clip back next time they want to say something about his appearance that isn't extremely nice. yall fucking suck.

snc strategizing pics on insta is so true. just watch jc's livestream when they hit 10 mil. it took them 20 minutes to post about it lol

re-rack, reconfigure, no no. the real word you're looking for is rearrange. that's what we used to call it.

i love snc with my entire heart, but sometimes it becomes very apparent that they only got a high school education. what do you mean you don't know what the word gaudy means???? ostentatious??? and then colby not knowing what the bible belt is???? cmon now lmao

colby talking about dating/his love life just a bit… kris really is trying to get on my good side sksksks

colby's raya profile saying he's a wwe wrestler, and then his caption being "6'0 on a good day with the right shoes"…. how does he get laid as often as he does???? i can't with him anymore

him also admitting to ghosting and getting bored talking to ppl. imagine being ghosted by colby. i would be embarrassed lol

it was interesting to hear their opinions on 25x25 now. i personally loved that content so to hear them say it wasn't as authentic as the haunted stuff is a bit confusing. i don't know if i would agree with it, but i like hearing what they have to say about it.

sam saying back to kris "if you make this shot, i think ppl will love you… finally." and then saying "make your mom proud"………… why do i find this hot something is wrong with me lol

if you're wondering if i could ever take snc in a fight, the answer is YES. i would absolutely murder them sksksks

snc listening to country music???? what has this world come to?? i mean i'm happy to hear they like country but it's just so surprising

colby saying his favorite movie is 'life of pi' but not understanding it and kris saying "you're so cute." i love that moment.

colby needs to make more music STAT

kris saying she's sleeping with socks on and colby not liking that: sir, you enthusiastically told xplrclub that you watch cist popping videos i don't CARE what you have to say.

colby also not wanting to saying anything to get canceled is very accurate

the little handshake they all did at the end of beer pong was adorable.

colby being good at moving his tongue fast………. i'm not even gonna say anything lmao

also his inability to do the cowabunga with his left hand. i fucking cried laughing at that.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #kallmekris #personal #text

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tortoisesshells · 1 month

Note

Writing ask: 4, 7, 11, 16 & 18

4. ... with dialogue I'm proud of:

I've yet to find a character whose dialogue I've enjoyed writing quite as much as Jed Foster's. From the Mercy Street (but with vampires!) extended universe/pastiche/whatever -

“Are you this surprised when the rains arrive in April, Nurse Mary? Or, if I may dabble in plain Yankee with you, when the sap begins to run in March? We are in an army hospital. They send us, among other things, their dying.” “These men were not dying,” Mary insisted. “The difference between ailing and dying is a very thin one, then.”

7. ... that I nursed in a daydream before finally writing:

Ch. 21 of Customs and Duties was a weird one - I had it in mind for over two years before I got to it, but because it was, at heart, a chapter about imperfectly understood illness and quarantine I ... sort of lost heart for it, by the summer of 2022. Still, it's a turning point for Customs, and I had been looking forward to writing it.

Would she pick a fight with him, next? He supposed she might, though he was not inclined to give it to her. After a few moments of uneasy silence, Norrington took a risk and held out his hand for the pry-bar, and Elinor Treat reluctantly handed it to him. Without the tool she had been half-brandishing as a weapon, she seemed – exanimate. A puppet with its strings cut. The pry-bar felt damp in his hand, and he was unpleasantly surprised to find it had left red marks where he had taken hold of it: blood. Not his. “Mrs. Treat,” he said, very quietly and slowly, “Mrs. Treat, are you hurt?” “What? – oh. That.” Elinor Treat seized a kerchief from her pocket, and wrapped it around her hand. “I thought it had stopped bleeding days ago.”

11. ... with characters I want to write more in the future:

I miss Them (the cast of characters of potc). Here's from the last non-drabble I wrote for them.

Here, Elizabeth began to sift through her assets. It was a quick endeavor: a few dozen palm trees, a few dozen casks of rum, the damned pistol that Jack was guarding as though it were a token of a lover, the fire which was too small to even be seen clearly from the other end of her new home. In her great-grandmother’s time, when London burned nearly to the ground, the smoke could be seen from the surrounding counties as though it were a tower to the heavens – but she had not London to burn. That made lumber precious, didn’t it? Elizabeth had a brief, frustrated sense that she might have a better idea of how long she could keep the island ablaze if she had paid more attention to the consumption of fire-wood in her father’s household, but of late she’d shied away from the house’s accounts as though she could keep her future away likewise. She sized up the palm trees she did have, and, careful to be quiet, padded through the darkness to get a sense of how great around the trunks were – how long they might burn. If she were to set the island alight –

16. ... from a recent piece I want to brag about:

This is clever only to me, but, from nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace

"Her fingers were numb – centuries had changed many things about Collinsport, but the wind at Widows’ Hill was ever the same – bone-cracking, blood-chilling, cold. She struggled with the knot at her neck."

I cannot resist some foreshadowing - Vicki, the narrator, eventually is hanged (she gets better. mostly.) - hence the attention paid to the struggle with the knot at her neck. No one said anything about it when I posted, so I'm being annoying about it now. (there's also a point where Jeremiah quotes one of the first things his doppelganger in the 1960s said to Vicki, which clearly a man in the 1790s couldn't know anything about. surely.)

18. ... from that one WIP everyone has that has no plot, just vibes:

From my "Will Turner finds promotion to authority vastly overrated" post-AWE fic:

“The only deal I am prepared to offer you, Mister Beckett,” said Captain Turner, wearily, feeling as impatient as he ever had alive, “Is that which is available to all deceased souls. If that is of interest to you – see Mister Maccus, there. If not, get out my way.” Will didn’t look to see what choice Beckett made, and either his half-hour’s practice of the posture of authority or the dreadfully carved doors dissuaded any further complaints. The pipe-organ of the cabin seemed to be laughing at him.

send me a number and I'll send you an excerpt of my writing!

#thank you for the ask kind friend!#ask meme #polkaknox talks

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bratshaws · 2 years

Text

goodness gracious 30. brb x oc

( i wish tumblr suggested me different gifs I DONT REALLY LIKE TO REPEAT THEM EVEN THOUGH I LOVE THEM???)

a/n: i have no idea if what i wrote is even legal to do.......but I've seen people writing similar stuff and I wanted to give it a try > - > also!Yeah, I created a college for Bea, because I felt....uncomfortable using one that already exists h a h

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: *taps mic* Rooster is absolutely whipped.

chapters:

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

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi

Beatrice watched with wide eyes as Bradley chatted with the man inside the taco truck as if they were close friends in full Spanish. He spoke so smoothly, no accent at all. Since Spanish was somewhat similar to Italian she could understand a few words, but not the whole sentence.

He would switch back into English to ask her what she wanted then go right back to Spanish without missing a beat. She just stood there,dumbfounded, thinking that the possibility of Bradley getting even more attractive went up exponentially. He thanked the man after grabbing the tray with their tacos, quesabirria for both of them with a side of fries and soda, before they went to the picnic styled tables not too far from the food truck.

Once they were seated, Beatrice couldn’t help herself, “I had no idea you spoke Spanish.” she says, bringing her own plate closer to herself while Bradley chuckles as he pops his soda open, “I–since when??”

“Oh, it’s been a while.” he replies, bringing the soda to his lips to take a sip, then setting it aside when he was done, “A few years.”

Beatrice supported her chin on her hand, furrowing her eyebrows as she was still digesting the information that her incredibly handsome boyfriend spoke another language. She lowered her hand once she felt she stood there looking at him dumbly for too long, “I…” he looked up from his plate, giving her a little smile that clearly showed he was more than pleased about her reaction, “It’s…nice.” and very attractive “I-It’s very nice…”

Bradley didn’t even try to hold back the full blown grin, licking his thumb clean from the consommé as he opened the lid, “Thank you, babe. It took me a while to get this good.” her cheeks are such a sweet pinkish red color as she opens the little container on her side as well.

There’s something about Beatrice still being affected by him even after their time together that’s so fascinating to him. While he doesn’t blush like she does whenever she’s cute with him, he is just as smitten by her presence. It was very nice for his ego, he couldn’t lie.

And when she says she likes one of his favorite foods, the ego burst doubles in size. She does get a bit messy, there’s consommé all over her lips but she is doing that little dance you do when you like a food, moving side to side with her cheeks full. It was a bit colder, he had to admit he was starting to get bothered about it a bit, but the heat from the food truck behind them and the lights above their heads helped keep the warmth.

They talk for a good while, almost reminding him of their first date together at the Trooper diner. Maybe it was the way she still sounded excited when talking about her personal interests or it was just the way her cheeks reddened too, but it brought back great memories.

And that kiss, whew, he dreamt about that kiss for days after it happened. That red lipstick made her mouth appear like fresh berries. She was just wearing a light lip gloss now, one that gave her lips a light pink sheen, but he couldn’t help but look down towards her mouth from time to time.

“You have a bachelor degree in Political Science?” Beatrice repeats, wide eyes looking right at him, “I had no idea! Brad! You never told me!”

“I told you now, gorgeous.” he replies, smiling while wiping his lips then his hands, laughing at the way her eyes narrowed at him, “I mean, I don’t usually tell a lot of people. It’s in my file and you know, sometimes it’s a good conversation starter.”

Beatrice then rolled her eyes with a smile, “Still! I think it’s very interesting.” she says sweetly, “Did you like it?”

“I didn’t hate it.” he says with a shrug, “It was interesting, it definitely helped me when I entered the Navy.”

Beatrice looked at him with amazement, leaning her chin on her palm as he explained it, “Well, I think it’s really cool.” she smiles, then looks down at her plate sheepishly, “I majored in Art at Northride College…I really liked it. it’s what I’ve been wanting to do for so long, you know? It’s where I met Shells and Ev, and the other girls too. I think–” she pauses, thinking about it for a few seconds, “I think it was the best time of my life. I had broken up with Eric, I moved out of my parents’ house and moved to campus and I experienced a lot of stuff I’ve never imagined.”

Bradley smiles at how her eyes shine when talking about it, she’s so proud of herself he couldn’t help but be proud of her too. He knew how much pressure her family had put on her, honestly after meeting them he could understand why she’d feel so relieved to do something for herself. “I mean,I’ve seen some stuff you did. You are incredibly talented.” he says, bringing the soda to his lips, “But there’s still the one you don’t want to show me because it’s a surprise…”

Bea chuckles, “It’s true! I am my worst critic and it has to be perfect!”

“It could literally be a stick figure Bea, I’d still think it’s incredible.” he says after putting the soda aside, “But,I will respect that and give you time so you can show me whenever you want.”

“Thank you,Roos.” her cheeks reddened yet again, taking another bite of her taco with a little smile. “I was also,” she begins, after swallowing, “Part of the Mountain Rams club with Ev, we used to go hiking and camping all around California.”

Rooster blinked, it was like the cupid shot him in the heart again. She likes video games, she’s sweet and she likes nature and hiking? He almost felt like he was losing his mind because Beatrice was literally just perfect for him, “I didn’t know you liked that kind of stuff.”

“I love it, to be honest!” she smiles, “Me and Ev went up to San Gabriel Mountains once, we met some Pomona college students too and we had tea together while sharing stories about our colleges. It was so fun.”

“You know, I thought there was no way I’d fall even more in love with you, then you drop that?” he whistles low, pressing his hand over his heart, “Babe, you’ll never get rid of me. We could go hiking together sometime.”

Her green irises sparkled with interest, “I’d love that! I haven’t hiked in so long! Shells never wants to go with me,” she rolls her eyes, “She used to be part of the Debate club, she says she can handle climbing words but not climbing hills…she even said how weird it was that I joined the hiking club instead of the singing club.”

He had the memory of when Shells sent him the Karaoke video, which he still had in his phone because he just couldn’t stop looking at how beautiful Beatrice was, and noticed how Beatrice had a certain intonation that went higher than the normal karaoke goer. He also heard her hum songs often, her voice even without being sung had a lot more power than he ever heard, “You do have a nice voice.” she disagrees without saying anything, shaking her head, “You do, though.”

“I’m as tuned as a screaming cat.” she laughs, looking at her hands, “I’m not that good, I like singing but– you know? It’s not like I’m the new Adele or whatever.”

Bradley supported his chin on his hand, keeping his eyes on her with a little smile,”I think you are tuned, I mean…you scream my name really nicely–Ow!” The subtle kick on his shin under the table makes him stop and laugh quietly, covering his mouth with the hand that once supported his chin, Beatrice’s wide eyed stare only making him laugh even harder.

“Bradley! We are surrounded by people!” she chastised in a whisper, then her gaze softened, “I’m sorry for kicking you, are you okay?”

“You can always kiss it better.”

“Bradley.”

He laughs silently, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back the pure amusement darting through him, “Whaat? I’m not lying, am I?” his girlfriend says nothing, but her face turns a bright scarlet as she eats the final pieces of her taco, chewing it so she wouldn’t bother with a reply, “It’s really nice.” she glares at him by the corner of her eye, turning her head to face the sky above them.

He stops after a while, finishing his own dinner before they decide to leave. He thanked the people in the food truck, again in perfect Spanish, before they walked back to the Bronco. He couldn’t help but give her butt a little tap when she walked around him to enter the car, laughing to himself at her straightened up - and wide eyed - position, with the quiet ‘Bradley!’ coming out of her mouth.

“So, do you want to go home yet?” he asks, resting the inside of his wrist on the wheel as he leans back on the seat. She takes a while to reply and a small part of him worries she’s actually mad at him. He relaxes when Beatrice says she doesn’t feel like going home yet but what could they do?

He smirks, “Well, I think I have an idea.”

“No!”

“What? Come on!” he calls, beckoning her close “It’s okay!”

They were both outside the base, well, sort of.She was outside, Bradley managed to get one of the back gates open - she had no idea who he talked to or what he did to achieve that- and he was partially inside with his arm stretched towards her, “Bradley! Is this even legal?” she asks quietly, almost hiding herself behind his car.

“Babe, I work here.” he beckons her again, “Come on! It’ll be fine!”

Beatrice looks back towards the base, then at him then to her surroundings. She clenches her eyes, muttering to herself before she walks from around the car to grab his hand. She makes a worried noise when the gates click shut and lock, standing closer to his torso with a deep frown. The base was massive and at night it was almost impossible to see what was going on, she could only see silhouettes of buildings and the faint lights that illuminate specific areas in the distance.

“Where are we going?” she asks quietly, still looking around herself, “Brad! You didn’t say if this was legal or not!”

“It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not an answer!” Bea reprimanded quietly, hugging his arm while being on edge, every little sound making her head snap up in worry. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? She could be responsible for making him lose his job! Oh no, they had to go back before anyone noticed them. But moving Bradley back was a chore, he was muscular and taller than she was, so it was like a chihuahua trying to yank a rottweiler away from their bowl of food.

She gave up with another worried noise, walking alongside him. He was so relaxed, strutting like nothing could affect him unlike his girlfriend who was just freaking out inside, “We’re almost there.”

“Where is almost there?” she replied in a quiet voice, frowning more the deeper they got into the base, “Bradley, where are we going?”

“Just a few more minutes, gorgeous.”

Beatrice groaned, pressing her forehead to his bicep and deciding to not look to wherever he was taking them or else she’d have a full blown panic attack thinking they could get caught. But she does pay attention when he stops and there’s a click, being followed by the sound of something opening and they go back to walking.

She feels no more wind around herself, so she could only assume they were indoors. Blinking, she lifts her head from his arm to look around, seeing they were in a room surrounded by lockers. She continues looking around, rubbing her fingers together as she takes in the area she’s currently in, stopping at Rooster who’s leaning his shoulder against one of the metal doors and is smiling at her “...Why are we here?”

Rooster shrugs, pushing himself away from the door, “Felt like it, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” She watches him fidget with the upper compartment of his locker, a smaller door that creaks open. He reaches inside with both hands, whatever was inside shining under the light above their heads. A helmet, not any helmet, but his helmet.

She gasps softly, approaching him to have a better look, seeing his call sign written right in golden yellow letters, “Woah…” she whispers, looking down their distorted reflection on the dark visor, not seeing how Bradley’s eyes softened while looking down at her, “This is your helmet.”

“Yep,” he says, offering towards her, “Here, hold it.”

Beatrice stares at it for a few seconds, “What if I drop it?” she murmurs, seriously worried and looking up at his expression, frowning when he looks weirdly entertained, “I’m serious! What if I drop it?”

“Gorgeous this thing handles more than you can imagine. Dropping won’t change anything.” he bounced the helmet in his hands, “Believe me. Just hold it.” she still gives him a weary look, but her smaller hands cup the sides of the helmet to bring up to her line of vision. Her worried façade turned into one of wonder, tilting the helmet this way and that to see every part of it.

Rooster’s chest bloomed with affection at how careful she was being, running her fingers on his call sign with a little smile, “Try it on.” she snaps her head up at him, her smile faltering. She laughs softly, furrowing her eyebrows in an ‘are you serious?’ expression, but he just nods to the helmet “I’m serious, go on.”

“I…” she looks down at it, his call sign yellow and bright staring back at her, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, here,” he picks the helmet from her hands, “I’ll help you. Pull your hair up in a low bun.” she blinks up at him but does as he says, pulling the brown tresses up so the bun would stay low on her nape. “There you go, now,” he lifts the helmet up to her head, not being able to contain his laughter when she follows the movement with her eyes, uncertainty all over her green irises, “Bea, it’s fine. Just relax.”

“It’s easy for you to say.” it's a weak chuckle that comes out of her, but she lets him slide the helmet on her head. It was already heavy in her hands, clearly meant to protect the pilot after all, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She blinks up at him with a smile, feeling him fix it for a few more seconds then pulling his hands back.

Rooster couldn’t help the grin on his face when he stepped back to have a better look, the helmet wasn’t too big so it stayed in place as she touched it. His stomach fluttered with the same butterflies when they had their first date, adoring her just by existing and being there.

This whole ordeal was risky, but Mav was anything but reliable. The older man just told him to go for it and he’d deal with everything else later. “You look good. How is it? Uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s fine.” she replies, “Your voice is just a bit muffled though.” she looks around a bit once she drops the visor down, not being able to stop herself from doing so, “Woah, this is so cool.”

“Now you know how I feel most of the time.” he says, following her line of vision as she continues turning around with the visor down.

“You know something I never asked you?’ she begins, only the lower part of her face showing as she gestures in his direction, “Why is your callsign Rooster?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his hair as he leans against his locker with his shoulder, “It’s because I wait for the right moment during a fight, just like a rooster does to the sun.” he explains, still looking at her with a smile on his face.

“Ooohh,” she nods, then flips the visor back up to expose her big eyes looking back at him, “I don’t know why I thought it was because you like waking up early. I guess it made sense in my head.” She made no other movements to remove the helmet, so he didn’t do anything either.

She then opened her mouth to speak,but her face got bright tomato red so she just looked down at her feet instead, ignoring his confused look. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” she said quickly, pulling the helmet off her head and giving it back to him with her face still red. She tried to comb her hair down as she pulled it out of the bun, still not meeting his eyes, “Just…thinking…”

“Thinking, huh?” he repeats, placing the helmet back into his locker, “What could you be thinking that made your face turn so red?” In response she inhaled sharply with her cheeks turning bright crimson, “Ohh, Bea, were you thinking something naughty? Because if you were, I want to know.”

“I…it was just…something that popped up, nothing more.” she replied, playing with the ends of her flannel sleeves, thinking that the floor was more interesting than the thought that the reason Rooster got his callsign was anything but innocent. She hated her brain sometimes. He didn’t have to know that!

But boy did he want to know what she was thinking about, closing his locker to step closer to her fidgeting form before tilting her chin up, “I promise not to tell anyone.” he teases, enjoying her indignant little huff as she looks back down to the ground, “...oh,fine, don’t tell me. I guess I’ll have to yank it out of you when we leave.” she knew he meant in the less than Christian way too, making her face flame up even more, “But, come on, there’s something else I want to show you.”

She blinks up at him, then takes his hand as he leads them out of the locker room and out another door. She just looks around the darkened hallways in amazement, the roar of the ocean seeming louder in such a silent area like this, their footsteps being the only thing she could hear besides the sea hitting the base.

He stops in front of her when they reach the end of the large hallway, before he opened a door she had no idea it was there. He steps in first, looking back at her so she could come inside as well, smiling when her eyes focused at the large silhouette. “Roos, is this–”

“Sure is.”

His fighter jet, which was under maintenance because of the last mission, stood proudly in the middle of the empty room. Beatrice tilted her head up, that thing was so massive she felt her vertebrae hurt from looking up for so long. There is a sliver of moonlight that shines through one of the high windows, illuminating the plane for her eyes to see, “Wow…” she hovered her hands on the side of it, looking back at Rooster, “Can I…? Touch it?”

“Go ahead.” he says, approaching her slowly, “I’m sure the plane won’t mind it.”

Beatrice looks up to the jet again, pressing her palm to the curved metal with her eyes wide. She had never gotten so close to something like this, running her hand over the surface, feeling where the iron was melded together then touching the underside of the wing with her fingertips. “I can’t believe you control this.” she whispers, “It’s—it’s huge.”

Rooster walked up by her side, his own hand following the same path her hand did before patting the metal fondly, “Yeah, it sure is a big asshole this one.” Bea looks up at him with a questioning gaze, “But it can be managed, with enough care and training.”

“Still, it’s amazing that you guys do this.” she replies, almost petting the side of the plane as if it was a dog, “I don’t think I could ever do it.”

“I think you’d be good.” she makes a disbelieved sound, “I mean, you are smart, you pay attention to your surroundings, you’d be a good pilot.”

“I’d be a pilot with severe anxiety Roos,” she laughs, “But thanks, I’m honored you think I could ever fly something like this.”

“You flew your way into my heart, gorgeous.” he says smoothly, leaning down to press a kiss to her warm cheek, “Like the angel you are.” Angel? That 's new. She dragged her eyes up to meet his, about to ask him where that came from but he beat her to it. ‘That’d be your callsign too. Because you can’t be from this world.”

Beatrice’s mouth drops open and she laughs quietly, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth in fear someone could hear her, “I thought I was a fairy?” she says softly, looking at him from the corner of her eye, “You always call me that.”

“Angel works just as fine. I can come up with more if you want to.”

Bea looks down at her feet with a shy smile, “I wouldn’t mind.” is her whispered response.

Bradley chuckles, dropping his hand from touching the plane to step back, holding her hand in his, “Come on, we better go now.” He isn't in a hurry, he just comments as if he’s telling her about the weather. Beatrice nods, letting him guide her all the way through again.

There’s a figure wandering by in the distance and she freezes, “Roos,” she calls quietly, but he doesn’t stop, even if she drags her own feet back hoping they could hide somewhere. The figure suddenly brings up a flashlight, shining right in their faces and Beatrice couldn’t help but scream and hide herself behind Rooster.

They were caught. Oh no, oh no! He’d lose everything he worked for, he–

“Jesus, Mav,” comes Rooster’s voice above her, one of his hands shielding his squinting eyes, “You don’t have fucking blind me?”

Mav? Pete?

The older pilot flicks the lantern off, smirking at the two, “Just wanted to check your reflexes.” he tilts his head, seeing Beatrice’s body slowly creeping out from behind Rooster, “Hi, Beatrice.”

“H-Hi Mav.”

Maverick walks back to the gate that immediately unlocks and he pulls it back enough for them to walk out of the base, him right behind. Beatrice notices that behind Rooster’s Bronco there’s a bike she hadn’t noticed before, a bike that belongs to no one other than Pete Mitchell, “I hope you kids had fun,” Pete says, waiting for the gates to click and lock, sliding something in his back pocket, “As short as it was.”

Beatrice just looks at him with wide eyes, then turns her head to Bradley who is looking right down at her, “We did,” her boyfriend replies, “But we better go now. Thanks again,Mav.” She watches as Rooster engulfs Maverick in a hug, the older man clapping the other pilot in the back in a fatherly embrace. Beatrice is still trying to understand what happened but she too hugs Maverick in thanks, hurriedly entering the truck behind Rooster.

Maverick stands in front of the Bronco when the lights come up, squinting in surprise but throwing out a ‘fair enough’ as he looks at the two. He salutes them off, his body getting smaller and smaller as Rooster reverses the car off and back into the road. Beatrice couldn’t help but look behind herself to the base once they were far enough, ‘“Is Mav going to be okay?”

“Yeah, you’d be surprised at the type of shit he pulled over the years.” her boyfriend chuckles, “This was child’s play.” she hums, falling back to her seat and trying to hold back a yawn, “Someone is tired.”

“A little,” she smiles, the fatigue finally keeping up with her after getting so nervous while sneaking inside, “But I had fun.”

“Yeah?”

“I always have fun with you.”

Rooster exhales something, smiling cutely as he drives the car one handedly, using the other hand to support his weight against the window sill and cover the lower part of his face. He’s shaking his head diminutively, but she could see his cheeks were flexed in a grin. He laughed breathlessly, the lights outside giving him a yellowish orange glow but not enough to show how his own cheeks seemed to darken over her words.

“I am,” he begins once he drops the hand from his face, “Going to kiss you so much once we get to your house.”

Beatrice giggled, her body relaxing on the drive back, “I can’t wait.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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