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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

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The North Star - Part Nineteen: Fucked Up - Terry Bruno x Reader (feat: Mike Duarte)

Tagging: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart @genius2050 @spaghettificationandpretzels

Part One: Moments (NSFW)

Part Two: Case of the Ex

Part Three: Her Worse Half

Part Four: Always

Part Five: Ask Me Again (NSFW)

Part Six: Degas

Part Seven: The Heist

Part Eight: A Part to Play

Part Nine: Home

Part Ten: Safe Space

Part Eleven: Weak

Part Twelve: Got Your Back

Part Thirteen: Familia

Part Fourteen: Gunplay

Part Fifteen: Friendly Fire

Part Sixteen: Alive (NSFW)

Part Seventeen: Karma

Part Eighteen: Lucky

You want a smoke. Christ, you want nothing more than to light up a cigarette and inhale but you couldn’t, it was one of the things the doctors were very clear about so instead you head to a bar. Your head's messy again, a chaotic space. You didn’t want to be in it anymore. You think about calling Terry but you knew he’d stopped in at SVU to check in on the case he’d been working. You're on medical leave, you had no place you needed to be, you're listless, restless, angry with no target to direct it at.

You strip off your blazer and throw it onto the stool next to you before signalling to the bartender. He pulls the bottle of tequila from the top shelf before pouring out a shot and pushing it towards you. It burns on the way down, warming your chest as it hits you. You tap your fingertips on the bar, watching as he refills the glass again.

You realise you should probably be raising a toast to Paul right now for doing something fucking right. Instead you tip the liquid down your throat before signalling for another. He gives you a look and you meet his gaze with a furious one of your own.

“Another.” You tell him.

You feel the third shot the moment it hits you. The room tilts slightly and all those intrusive thoughts evaporate, you feel lighter and a little giddy.

“Switch her to water.” A familiar voice says. “And me an Americano.”

You turn your head to see Mike standing beside you, Bono wagging his tail.

“Boo, you’re no fun.” You tell him as the bartender puts down a glass of water in front of you.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking on those painkillers.” Mike informs you, handing over his credit card to the bar tender. “They’re the same ones I was on after the attack. Trust me, things are about to get real fucked up for you.”

“I don’t see that making a difference right now.” You inform him with a pointed look. “Everything’s already fucked up.”

Mike says nothing as you take a sip from the water. It feels cold as it sweeps through you, leaving a numbness in it’s wake. You're used to this feeling; you’ve had it before. When things got too much, you want to shove everything away from you, get a little space because your brains too overcrowded.

“They were going to flip him you know?” You say into the space between the two of you, your thumb chasing a bead of condensation from the cool glass. “After everything he did, they were just going to let him carry on so he could flip on his dealer.”

Mike’s coffee cup hovers in front of his mouth as he processes this new information.

“Is that why you’re spinning out?”

“I’m not spinning out.” You snap.

Mike huffs.

“We’re sitting in a bar before the lunchtime rush and you’re almost three sheets to the wind already. How many more of these would you have had if I hadn’t got here?” He says, picking up the empty shot glass to show you.

“Give me a fucking break.” You mutter, rolling your eyes to the ceiling. “I just wanted to turn down the noise in my fucking head, for one fucking minute.”

“This isn’t the answer.” He tells you, setting the shot glass back down onto the bar before gesturing at your surroundings. “This is how you form bad habits. Do you want to end up like your parents, hermanita? Picking up a drink every time something goes wrong in your life.”

It's a gut punch, one that's meant to make you think twice about what you're doing. A surge of rage erupts through you because it's fucking true, and you hate it. Hate the fact that you’ve come this far and you're still doing the same fucking thing your mother and father had done before one of them fell asleep with a cigarette in their hand burnt down their own fucking house.

“That’s a low fucking blow Mike, even for you.” You tell him, feeling the agony twist in your chest as you stare at the three empty shot glasses all lined up in row. Your father used to do that, you remember it acutely because you used to count them, while he watched whatever game was on the TV in the bar. He always stopped when he got to five, five meant he could get in the truck and drive home, anything over and he was calling a cab.

Five, alive! He used to say when he clipped someone’s trashcan.

You count the shot glasses again.

Three, just for me.

Something else he used to say.

“I’m worried about you.” Mike says quietly. “I’m worried about how you’re coping. You have been through so much shit, in your life, in the past 48 hours. It’s more than any one person can be expected to handle…”

You cut him off.

“Don’t preach to me Mike.” You hiss at him. “Do not act like I don’t know you were a fucking drunk before you met Meredith.”

He sighs before he looks at you, because you were right. He’d had a slight problem before the attack and afterwards… It had gotten out of control, if it wasn’t for Bono, he thinks there’s a good chance he would have eaten his gun. He reaches out, his hand smoothing over the dog’s soft fur. Those wide, loving eyes look back up at him and he knows he has to keep trying. If it was anyone else, he thinks he would have told them to go fuck themselves, but it’s you. The girl he thinks of as a sister, the one that’s fucking struggling because her entire life she has been dealt a shitty hand, and now the job, the one she loves is kicking her when she’s down.

“That’s why I’m the right person to be having this conversation with, because I fucking get it.” He tells you, angling his body to read your expression. “I know what it’s like to be trapped in your own head, to feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of everything you’ve had to endure. I know what it’s like to hurt so fucking badly, it tastes like blood on your fucking tongue every time you try to find a way through it.”

“So, what’s the solution?” You ask him, each of his words is like a punch, hitting home because that is exactly how you feel. The anguish is fucking visceral, you can feel the heartache underneath the surface of your skin. “How do I survive this?”

Mike pulls out his phone, his thumb tapping until he finds the app he wants.

“Get your shit together. Our Uber driver will be here in a couple of minutes.”

You rub your hands over your face before looking at him wearily.

“I don’t want to go home Mike.” You tell him. “The last place I want to be is alone with my own thoughts right now.”

“We’re not going home.” He informs you before gesturing to Bono, who looks up at you his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “I promised Bono we’d go to the beach, so we’re going to the beach.”

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#terry bruno #detective terry bruno #mike duarte #terry bruno fic #terry bruno x you #terry bruno x reader

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soov-archived · 1 year

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WR⩇NG R⩇⩇M! 1O. d-day

warnings & an! 2.4k words. mentions of anxiety + the written part SUCKS. i decided to let ive perform satuday 14th in this timeline too :) link to the playlist again if you like to read bigger chapters while listening to music <3

MAY 14TH, 2022

After a month of announcements and changes in the original schedule, Kpop Flex began its activities, and you might've seen multiple idols you admired walking around backstage.

The trip to Frankfurt was successful if you excluded the bickering between the self-proclaimed ‘Sunghoon Hate Club’ and Sunghoon himself. Not to mention the exhausting feeling of staying seated for seventeen hours. The journey to the stadium was similarly great, again, if you excluded the fact that the twelve of you did not have time to stop by your hotel.

Rehearsals were fine. ‘Just fine’, you'd say. Enhypen went first and did the mic test, followed by VOON. Finally, after long and unnecessary checkups, you thought you would have the ‘Dope’ cover final rehearsal. However, one of your managers informed you that you would not; the festival's organization expected both groups to keep up the suspense they created.

Partly, you were glad. You thought that if they let you do the dry run for the song, you'd mess up some moves like Enhypen did just for the main setlist. The number of fans starting to pile up inside the stadium made your stomach drop, enhancing your apprehension. Even with almost four years of performing and a world tour recently finished, you still felt the same anxiousness you felt when you debuted.

On other hand, you were disappointed. You wouldn't get the last chance to convince yourself that one week of training was enough time to get the choreography. An overbearing weight was set on your shoulders, particularly due to the official title of main dancer you held.

By that time, you found yourself seated on a leather couch in VOON's assigned dressing room. Every inch of your brain seemed to be torn apart brutally with the seven-hour jetlag. Your outfit itched, your makeup felt heavy on your skin, and the boots you wore squeezed your feet mercilessly. If there was any supernatural force responsible to dictate your life, it hated you.

Bouncing your leg up and down, you knit your eyebrows together in anxiousness. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth while loud cheers passed through the door as staff members came and went.

You were too immersed in your negative thoughts to notice that seven new people entered the place. A gentle tap on your forearm made you quickly turn your head to a smiley person.

“Hi!” Jungwon chirped, a hand close to his chest waving shortly. He pointed to the free space on the couch as he raised his eyebrows. “Is anyone there?”

“Oh, uh, hi.” You replied in a daze. Looking where he motioned to and shaking your head, you denied, “No, no. You can sit here if you want.”

He obliged, and you scooted to the left to give him more room (though there was enough space for two other people to sit in between you). Your eyes traveled to your members quietly, taking note of other familiar voices.

Sora sat on a makeup chair, fanning herself with her script. A young woman calmly applied a peach blush on her plump cheeks. Sunoo and the black-haired singer chatted while occasionally stealing annoyed glances at Sunghoon. The cut on her head — as Jake said — was minuscule, and healed significantly.

A cameraman filmed Eunjoo showing Heeseung some locking moves, her specialty, as he stared at her with gleeful eyes. You thought the editor would definitely write something along the lines ‘Cool Senior Eunjoo’ or ‘Best Sister’ for the caption. The 02z (including April) watched the two and giggled enthusiastically, stopping whenever the lens focused on them.

Mingyu and Riki were hidden in a corner sharing a pack of chips, and probably gossiping or talking about animes — a thing they developed only when they saw one another in person. The boy caught your gaze and smiled widely.

“Seems like everyone went for people their age.” Jungwon spoke airly from beside you, observing many scenes develop before him and turning to you. “We weren't too invasive, were we?”

“No, no! I think Joo even said something about visiting you all.” For another time, you shook your head, pessimistic feelings about the show still clouding your mind. A camera started recording your interaction, and you almost considered faking a grin.

You took some seconds to admire his clothes and distract yourself. He styled black skinny pants with a pair of boots of the same color. A loose tie and his denim jacket with golden stripes closed the outfit.

“I like your clothes.” You commented truthfully, careful not to overstep the public boundaries your company set up for you. One thing is a bunch of paparazzi and fans seeing you in real life, the other is a video. There's no coming back once the content is released.

It was easy to Jungwon notice how you seemed bothered and tired. Sometimes, his weird ability to read people was enabled, and he got to raise everyone's spirits effortlessly. He thought giving you a motivational speech wouldn't help, so he decided to keep with his cheerful demeanor, hoping it'd rub off on you.

“Thanks. They're pretty cool, aren't they?” He grinned, slightly pulling the edges of his shirt to the front to get a better look at it.

You mumbled an ‘Mhm’ in confirmation, a tad annoyed by the cameras. “If you had a hat you'd look like a modern cowboy.”

He laughed at that, the sight of his dimples greeting you. “A modern cowboy?” His cheeks went up, covering his dark irises. “Well, you're looking like an emo straight from 2010 today.”

“Excuse you?” Gasping dramatically, you rolled your eyes at him. You ignored the object filming you for a while, forcing your concerned musings to tone down. After taking a good look at your attire, you sighed. “Yeah... Now that you said it, I think the chains and those pointy bracelets give it away.”

“At least you look like a cool emo, you are a real rockstar.” He consoled. A dumb idea to cheer you up crossed his mind, making him mimic a professional camera with raised hands. “Let me be your paparazzo. C'mon, quick! Strike a pose!”

Jungwon's playful attitude made you giggle softly. Posing with rock horns and an air guitar, you observed him crouch down to get different angles in his so-called photos.

“Look here, rockstar Y/n!” He lifted an arm, the other still making the form of a camera. “When will your next album be released? Your fans are dying to know!”

“You're asking too much, mister. That's a top-secret info.” You jested, acting like flashes were blinding you, preoccupation long gone. “I can only say that the title track is related to medicine.”

“You're joking,” Jungwon spoke incredulously, raising his head from behind his hands. You nodded to the sides, and he smiled mischievously at that. “You wouldn't mind telling me the real name of the song, would you?”

“Yes, I would.” Chuckling, you slowly pushed his palms down to stop him from clicking his tongue and making camera noises, his eyes squinted. “Joo would kill me, and my managers too.”

He hummed and sat back down on the couch, dissatisfied with your answer. The man that got your jokes on film laughed under his breath and walked away. The scene probably wouldn't be aired due to how close you seemed to be, even though you still didn't know much about each other (or you about Jungwon).

After that, you realized that the presentation might be ready to start at any moment. “What time is it?” You asked.

“Uh– It's twenty past seven.” He checked his phone, turning it to you in the process.

Jungwon's lock screen elicited a small chuckle from you before you could start to overthink again. A picture of a white, unbothered fluffy dog laying on top of a hoodie came into your view.

You moved your gaze to Jungwon in awe. “Is it yours?”

“Hm?” Frowning, he turned his phone back to himself. His confused face soon turned into a gleeful one when he picked up on your question. “Oh, yeah! This is Maeumi. He lives with my parents and sister. They adopted him some months ago, but he already thinks I'm his father or something.”

“He's adorable.” You commented, imitating his expression.

The boy giggled as a way to thank you. “And you have a cat at your dorms? Shoyo, right?”

“Yep, he's Mingyu's cat. She got him when we moved in together.” Your eyes went to your colleague, who was in a surprisingly calm discussion with the other maknae. “He gets all sad when we don't give him enough head pats and attention.”

Maintaining your focus on Mingyu, you asked Jungwon for a favor. “Talking about cats, remember two days ago when we made that video call, and you hypnotized me with your eyes? The Puss In Boots eyes.”

“Yeah... Wait– I didn't do ‘Puss In Boots’ eyes!” He huffed. “I only do that to get what I want!”

“That's– Oh my God, that is literally the same thing, Won!” You harmlessly argued back. “I need you to do it for me. Just one time.”

Yang expected you to wait for his answer, but you were already standing up and making your way through the sea of people. “Y/n, hold up!” He followed you, dodging the staff until he reached the corner of the room. “I didn't agree yet!”

His shouting was of no use. You were already tapping a young man's shoulder, who he recognized as one of your managers.

“Hi, Jihoon-nim!” Mustering your most innocent smile, you bowed slightly to him and Enhypen's manager, Taejin, on his right. “What's up?”

“The festival is up, Y/n.” Jihoon put his clipboard under his arm with a bored face. “What do you need?”

“Oh, yes! I wanna go see IVE for a little. Y'know, catch up with Wonyoung and Hyunseo, things like that.”

Jihoon eyed the confused teen behind you, suspecting your plans. He took a good look at both of you before putting his free hand on his hip. “And why should I let you go?”

“That's your cue!” Whispering indiscreetly, you nudged your friend towards your manager.

At that moment Yang wished he could have teleportation powers to vanish from there; he would be ashamed of his actions forever. But even then, he clasped his palms and did the best pout and ‘Puss In Boots’ eyes he could — for you.

“What are you doing?” Jihoon drew his eyebrows together. The question was mostly to you, and not Jungwon.

“Don't you feel like letting me see IVE? Look at these sparkly, beautiful eyes. Would you let poor Jungwonie down?”

Said ‘Jungwonie’ stopped a smile from appearing on his face, his stomach filling up with fireworks. Did you really think he had sparkly and beautiful eyes? Did you like them or were you just acting? Were his ears pink from your compliment? His imaginative pondering got interrupted hastily by your boss.

“I- Yes. Aren't you the one asking to go see your friends? What does Jungwon have to do with this?” He inquired, not paying mind to Taejin's snort and the boy's pleading gaze.

You were quick to mirror Jungwon's stance, pouting and batting your eyelashes as if you were begging your parents to let you sleep at your friend's house. “Please, Jihoon-nim!”

The manager sighed apologetically. “Sorry, kiddo. They're going up in a bit, but I'll see if you can meet them after the show, alright?”

“Worth the shot,” you shrugged in comprehension. “Thank you anyways. C'mon, Wonie.”

As the red-headed teen waddled close to you, Taejin shook his head in disbelief.

“He must like her a lot.” He pointed out.

“What do you mean by that?” Jihoon puzzled, writing down some reminders on his clipboard.

“Jungwon wouldn't do a skit like that if a random person asked him to.” Taejin clarified. “Even if it was his members asking, I don't think he would do it so easily.”

In understanding, Jihoon nodded.

⠀ ⠀ ✶

“You got this.” You kept repeating that to yourself to give you more confidence, pacing around backstage. IVE was almost finishing their last track, Eleven, meaning that Enhypen would soon begin their performance.

“Are you okay, noona?” Someone rested their hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Ni-Ki examining every single inch of your face with an evident worried look.

“Yeah, I am,” you waved him off bashfully. “Just getting ready for the show. I think the adrenaline is starting to kick in.”

“That's great!” He beamed, adjusting his earpiece while tapping your collarbone lightly with his fingertips. “We're gonna be amazing in our solo, hm? Now let's go with the others.”

Riki's personality was something intriguing. You noticed he was undoubtedly intense and diligent for his age, however, he had his moments of childishness.

Balancing these two sides should be hard for someone who already had so much on their plate — you knew that seeing that you two shared the same group position. You decided to stick with him if he let you, and try to give him a helping hand in the areas you had experience. If you could ease at least a small fraction of the weight he carried, you'd still be proud of yourself and Riki.

He guided you to Jungwon and Eunjoo, the leaders finishing their talk as you two came closer.

“Gather around, guys!” Jungwon spoke loudly, and the other eight came along.

“Second time in the year that we do this with other people.” Jay whistled, putting his hand in the middle of the group.

Sora let a couple of hands pile up on top of Sunghoon's to not touch his. “When was the first again?”

“Legend of K-pop with TXT and the Weverse Con,” Heeseung answered, shooting a glance at Jake because his dirty palm was brushing against his fingers.

April bumped her hip with Sora's. “We saw them at the Weverse Con! We were there too.”

“Ah, yes... I forgot.” The younger girl coughed awkwardly to the side.

“You're going up in one minute!” A staff member yelled.

“So... Does ‘EnVoon fighting’ sounds good?” Jungwon questioned, glancing around to gather the answers.

“Sounds great.”

“Yep!”

“On the count of three?” He chimed again.

“Just do it already!” Sunghoon whined in despair.

“Geez,” Jungwon muttered, the group pushing their hands down. “Okay... 3, 2, 1–“

“EnVoon, fighting!”

PREV M.LiST NEXT

⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ yang jungwon, the leader of enhypen, keeps using his senior’s dance room to practice even after his manager calls him out. what is he going to do when the said senior finds out that he's not only doing it on purpose, but also trying to win her heart?

⠀ ⠀ pairing idol!yjw & f!idol!reader

⠀ ⠀ © soov, 2O22.

⠀

REi'S N⩇TES ⠀ HIIIII 😋😋 one week to write this and it still sucks . Sobbing 😞‼️ maybe i'll edit it later :| Pls dont be mad at me or riki....... lawl life goes on !!!! hahahah .. 😁

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#𐇵 wrong room!#enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #jungwon x reader #enha imagines #enha social media au #enha socmed au #enha smau #enha jungwon #enhypen smau #jungwon fluff #jungwon smau #yang jungwon #yang jungwon socmed au #yang jungwon smau #yang jungwon x reader

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workingchemistry · 6 months

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After rambling paragraphs in your comment section I have come on Tumblr to write more lmao. Seriously I wrote 4 journal pages of thoughts about your au it's very good!

Ok so first, I love how the fight dynamic is: jump Fox when he is being stupid -> 17 breaks up fight -> profit. Except now everything's all wrong so they had to call 17 over to fix things in post. Just hilarious and good continuity.

Your manipulative Fox is excellent show don't tell. It's honestly really hard to write a smart dude without being basically psychic or actually failing a lot. So like even though a lot of people love manipulative Fox it's hard to show in such a low stakes fashion. Usually wr just see him blackmailing people or otherwise winning instead of slowing gathering intel and influencing someone. The pacing and POV just makes it work.

Ace!Fox and Allo!Bly solidarity is hilarious. It cracks me up that the Kaminoans somehow didn't realize that most of the clones are ace spectrum. Like i question if the whole defective CT for CC batches worked even once as intended when every CC is only interested in adoption. "Natborns are obsessed with sex" indeed. Fox knows what's up.

Fox being more genuine with Bly and 17 and even Laruk was adorable. Especially with 17 where we got to realize that all the cadet style military discipline is affectionate with 17. Feral!Fox and his barely older dad my beloved.

I love how the deterministic gene editing totally matters but also doesn't matter much at all. Like all it really did is make a hierarchical family dynamic. Alphas will absolutely parent solo because they are competitive. CCs are big on being at the middle level of parenting and ori'vod-ing because they are only as competitive (for affection) as necessary to get the primary position in a cuddle pile. CTs are totally comfy with looking after younger siblings while still being looked after by the CCs. Ultimately they are all chomping at the bit to create a found family irrespective of genes.

Satine and Fox are so interesting because Satine cares that he is bleeding because of her principles not because she is being kind. Fox likewise pretends to be nice constantly so that she doesn't die on his watch and he gets blamed. Like him expressing understanding over natborn women being uncomfortable with men is just so he can do his job. He gets it but he doesn't really care about a stranger's hypothetical trauma.

Caring about your appearance is absolutely not a baseline experience for clones. Choosing to deviate from regulation at all is a huge expression of individuality even if you still present as a man.

Also like, Satine they are not soldiers by choice. Why would they have a culture that values violence above all else when they don't choose that life. As Fox was explaining in the creche, violence between vode is about love and survival, bot bloodthirsty bloodthirstyness or glory.

Also yeah, Satine will be totally offended by Fox's philosophy on death and murder. "The only deaths I care about are my brothers and they die all the time. If the purge was real I would fix the overcrowding in the senate dome no problem."

lol. They had a Method. It’s always a struggle when your younger brother is both smarter and dumber than you are. Usually beating him up and getting lecture by the only person he listens to is effective but then they tried to beat him up without Seventeen being there and it just didn’t work as well.

Ahh. Thank you. 😭 Fox is so fun as an unreliable narrator because he’s being purposeful about what he tells people when and even what he lets himself thing about but it makes me so nervous that I’m showing too much of my hand lol.

😂😂 I’m just too obsessed with the idea of the clones being ace mostly because I’m ace and so I love the idea of a culture where being allo is met with confusion. I don’t think the Kaminoans thought about sex drive at all until the trainer pops up saying it’s a problem. They give the CCs a CT and they seem more pliable so I guess it must have worked. Meanwhile the CCs are losing their minds over having a new tubie to take care of and mother hen. The CTs on the other hand are dubious but willing to be babied bc they’ve gone from living under the threat of decom to being protected by the most feral clones they’ve ever met. 😂

Seventeen acts a lot more aggressive than he really is. He’s not against thrashing his kids to make them behave but he always does it with affection. I just love to think about like Kenobi and company realizing their commanders and troopers are actually the semi domesticated version when they start digging into things and see the kinda shit that Fox and the Corries pull off unsupervised.

That is such a perfect description. 😭 the Aureks are extremely possessive and don’t really trust each other while the CCs don’t really trust outsiders. The CTs on the other hand are comparatively easy going despite what natborns think. They see these men doing crazy things on the battle and think they’re insane but actually CTs are very affectionate and willing to adopt everyone into their found families. They’re just also more willing to listen to a no. Aureks Will Forcibly adopt anyone from the younger series and CCs will latch onto anyone and dig their teeth in until they’ve subdued their targets.

Satine is so much fun to play against Fox because they’re kind of the same subset of person but with different ideals. They both come across as very helpful and caring and it’s not that they aren’t but they aren’t altruistic—even though Satine values altruism, everything she does is to further her ideals and people so it’s not actually good for good’s sake. Satine cares about Fox’s wellbeing because she feels responsible for him and Fox cares about Satine’s wellbeing because he is responsible for her. She wouldn’t be more sad about him dying than she would any rando and he would say good riddance to her if his family could get away with it.

The clones in other battalions get to play around with their appearance at least, but Fox can’t let his Corries even do that. Too much hinges on them being interchangeable. Those with identifying scars get pulled off of Senate duty and when he got his facial scar he had a whole breakdown because it meant he couldn’t step in and pretend to the others anymore. So that means what little individuality he can give to them is extremely precious and if that’s just which pronouns and names being used, he will fight for them. If they are already too identifiable with scars, he lets them grow out their hair and dye it as long as they leave enough undyed roots so it can be shaved off in an emergency. Makeup and nail polish and accessories are shared freely and used by everyone regardless of gender identity within the barracks.

The love/violence and inaction/hate culture clash is so fun to me. Like hurting your brother so that the trainer doesn’t do it is love as far as the vode are concerned. Standing aside and not correcting a mistake is setting your brother up for a decom. Satine’s preconceived notions about war and the reasons natborns fight doesn’t fit when these are just men who aren’t allowed to anything else. Like sure they enjoy killing sometimes. They enjoy getting a job done and they’re desensitized to murder. It has nothing to do with the actual killing. Later this will be highlightened when we get to see Fox doing the bare minimum to protect a natborn compared to Rex, Cody, Wolffe, and Bly all nearly killing themselves to protect their generals. Inaction vs action is a huge thing for them. Fox quite quit his job years ago. He’s just keeping his men alive at this point. Fuck everyone else.

Fox really said if the terrorists wanted to be harder to catch that would be great actually. Oh no he’s accidentally dropping the plans to the senate dome. If he could guarantee that no one would be alive to retaliate afterwards, he’d commit a murder spree, take his troopers, and book it out of there.

#commander fox #duchess satine

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pigeonwit · 8 months

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hullo pidge!

ive got three for you: ✄ , ✦, ♡. i already forgot what each of them means, but i trust that you can check the list and know. (for the one thats about comments u can choose what fic its for xx)

also notre dame by paris paloma as vice vermin virtue is so accurate literally everytime i hear that song i think of triple v

sneep you really feed my need to just talk about things all the time and i love it thank you so much for feeding my inane ramblings.

✄ what’s your editing process?

,,, yknow i dont think i really have one? like for oneshots and stuff i just sort of write it all down and try to see if it all Works for the character's POV and the story i want to tell. i try to break it up into segments so i can look over it piece by piece instead of slogging through the whole thing afterwards (cause i hate that and hating it makes me rush through it and that's how i make mistakes) but that's kind of it - for oneshots at least. for stories that i intend to keep adding to i want to make sure everything's followable, like character motivations and mental states and etc etc, so i go scene by scene and REALLY scrape over it. i have a bit in rbr4 that i've revisited at least eight times now because it's just not QUITE getting davey's motivations down the way i want. and then once i'm done analysing all those sections and fitting them together, i normally go to @rebuke-me for beta-ing just to make sure everything's flowing in an understandable way. i don't really do first and second drafts because i've already been drafting every scene bit by bit, so when i'm all done i just proofread as best i can and send it off to jupes if she's not too busy. unfortunately i do occasionally make some little mistakes (repeating a word or phrase too much, mixing up my metaphors, some small grammar stuff, etc) and i have a PROBLEM of getting too bogged down in little details that don't matter, but fanfictions a hobby, not a profession, and treating it like a profession is always what ruins it for me, so i prefer my casual editing process. it's not perfect, but i wouldn't be enjoying myself if it was.

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

ayyy this is. hm. probably 'matches' since it was so short, and i had the idea just kind of pop into my head fully formed. it's literally just one snippet of jack and davey's lives so it was pretty easy to get down. and the hardest is absolutely 'run boy run'. it's every single davey thought i've ever had written into a loveletter to my own autistic experience, which is... taxing, and on top of that it's a bit of a struggle to keep davey's motivations and character clear without projecting too much of myself onto him. but it's my baby and i love it dearly, and even if i don't get it all out perfectly it's still going to be my most treasured fic.

♡ pick a fic and I’ll pick a comment that made me really happy

without a doubt this goes to the comment left by ao3 user 'tablesaltiv' on 'say you came on first (i think you came on fine)' - it's too long for me to feel comfortable putting it in this post, and honestly i'd feel a little vain even if i did, but it's probably the most reassuring comment i've ever gotten. i stopped writing fanfiction when i was around sixteen/seventeen due to a very VERY big personal spiral and didn't post any again until i was twenty. i was REALLY scared of posting 'say you came on first' because it was probably the most character-studyish thing i'd ever done before, and i was. very stupidly paranoid that i had completely misunderstood the characters and should just call it quits again - and then tablesaltiv left their very lovely comment saying that having seen the show live themselves, my fic felt entirely accurate. it was incredibly reassuring for me and filled me with a lot of confidence, and even though i know i'm never going to understand these characters FLAWLESSLY, i at least feel confident enough to think that i understand them well - and now i'm still here and writing a very ambitious fic that i'm worrying about a LOT, but i'm determined to finish anyways :) thank you tablesaltiv

(also - i know i can't REALLY count this since it's not on a fic like the ask game said but i have to say thank you to YOU, sneep, for saying that you think about one of my own silly little fanfics every time you listen to a song?? that's crazy to me. i can't believe that. that's so kind and meaningful in ways i can't put into words. like. holy shit my fic exists in your brain. i can't believe that. so yeah that made me extra happy too fshhs)

#sneep you are an incredibly encouraging person and hearing from you is wonderful :))#newsies #ask #sneepsnoopboopideeboop #long post #fic thoughts

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moonylantsovs · 2 years

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RULES | 1.01: THE PILOT

summary: the daughter of Marcus Kane gets sent down to the ground with 99 other teenage criminals and a fake guard on her eighteenth birthday, deciding to take charge of the camp along with the two people she never thought she'd get along with after her previous experience with authority and the privileged.

pairings: john murphy x fem!oc, bellamy blake x fem!oc ( slowburn )

warnings: best friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, swearing, daddy issues, minor character deaths, nothing major/graphic yet

series masterlist

a/n: I've made some changes to the story so I chose to delete all the chapters I've posted here and just republish everything again. expect updates coming every monday and friday!

Gabriella Kane never knew peace.

At least not in this stupid metal box that sucked all of her will to live right out of her.

It has been ninety-seven years since the nuclear apocalypse killed everyone on Earth and left the planet simmering in radiation. Unfortunately for Gabriella Kane, there were survivors. Twelve nations had operational space stations at the time of the bombs. The only station left was called The Ark. Everyone was told the Earth needed another hundred years to become survivable again. That meant there were supposed to be four more space-locked generations until the human race could go home, back to the ground.

And that was what Gabriella always wanted.

To go down to Earth and finally be free from The Ark and Jaha's rules. If people knew better they would think she's your typical spoiled brat from Alpha Station. Since her father was Marcus Kane. But they knew better

Gabriella got arrested at the age of seventeen along with her best friend John Murphy for setting fire to a guard's room. She knew that if they were found out they would get arrested. And every person that commits any type of crime would be punished by death, if they were underage they'd get executed as soon as they turned eighteen. But Gabriella didn't have much to lose. She and Murphy met around the age of fifteen and they soon became inseparable. By the time she turned sixteen, she stopped hanging out with her privileged friends and only hung out with him and some kids from Mecha Station who worked with her.

She has spent years reading books about the Earth and looking down at it through the windows. She always wanted to feel what the ground felt like beneath her feet and how the rain would feel on her skin.

That was her dream.

But her reality? Today was her eighteenth birthday and she was supposed to be floated any time soon.

Gabriella has been in the sky-box for more than a year, only being allowed outside so she could attend classes. Even then, she was usually separated from Murphy, something she was sure her father made sure of.

There were a lot of things she realized while locked up. The first one was that she was pretty much in love with her best friend and the second one...she hated her father more than she originally thought.

Surprisingly, Gabriella didn't really care that she was gonna get floated today. To her, it just meant she wouldn't have to stare at The Ark walls until she died from old age. The bonus was if Marcus Kane was the one who was supposed to press the button. First doing it to his wife and then his daughter.

It would be ironic really.

And because of that, she didn't fight when the guards barged into her room. She just raised an eyebrow, put the knife she was previously twirling around in her hands, and tucked it in the old boots she was wearing. For extra measure.

"Prisoner 3-2-4, face the wall."

She did as she was told hearing the other guard say, "Hold out your right arm."

Gabriella furrowed her eyebrows, she was pretty sure that wasn't how the procedure is supposed to go, "I get it if you're into some kinky shit but I'm supposed to be getting floated, not reenact Fifty Shades of Grey."

The guards ignored her and one of them stepped forward to grab her arm, putting a metal wristband around her wrist. She felt a sting in her arm but didn't want to give them the satisfaction of wincing so she kept glaring at them.

She quickly grew confused when she saw her father walk in but that confusion shifted into anger at his blank expression.

"Came here to gloat?" she barked out but her father didn't seem affected by the venom in her voice.

Kane shook his head and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Listen to me closely. You are not being floated. You are being sent to the ground. All one hundred of you."

Gabriella furrowed her eyebrows, "What the hell are you talking about? It's not safe yet. Not for another four generations."

She saw her father's face fall before he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, the action making her blink in surprise, "Take care of yourself."

And then everything went black.

When Gabriella finally opened her eyes she was strapped to a chair in a dropship with ninety-nine other delinquents. She looked around in alarm, soon finding herself face to face with a smirking blue-eyed boy who sat opposite her.

"John? Where are we?"

"Hell." He stated with an amused smirk.

She rolled her eyes and sat up more, "Explains you being here."

Murphy's smirk slowly turned into a genuine smile, "I missed you too, Ellie."

Gabriella tried to fight back a smile but failed miserably, "Of course you did. I'm awesome. What's not to miss?"

The only response she got was a breathy chuckle before the dropship lights flickered and a crash was heard. Murphy sat up straight with a slightly panicked look on his pale face, "What the hell was that?"

Trying to suppress a groan at the situation she found herself in, the Kane girl simply responded, "The atmosphere."

Murphy didn't even have time to react since the monitor turned on revealing a video with Thelonious Jaha on it, "Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now. You've been given a second chance. And as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you but a chance for all of us. Indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what's waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable."

Gabriella and Murphy both wore similar scowls when they looked back at each other.

"Your dad's a dick, Wells!" a male voice yelled, making Gabriella look around in confusion.

Wells was here?

She scoffed to herself and turned to look at Murphy "I can't believe Jaha would actually send his own son down here to die."

He huffed "Nothing surprises me anymore."

"Your crimes will be forgotten and records wiped clean. The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the Last War, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain 300 people."

Gabriella tuned out the rest of his speech once she saw a familiar boy floating around the dropship.

"Spacewalker bandit strikes again!"

The teenager floated straight towards her as other delinquents kept cheering him on "Long time no see, Ella."

Gabriella and Finn have known each other for a while now. They met through their mutual friend Raven and stayed friends mainly through her but Gabriella wouldn't say she was close to the boy.

She still grinned cooly at him and nodded "Hey, Collins. I heard all about your spacewalk back in the sky-box."

"I'm popular even in jail. What a surprise." he joked making her chuckle lightly while he continued floating around.

"Mount Weather is life. You must locate those supplies immediately. You have one responsibility, stay alive."

In a flash, Finn and the two boys who followed him out of their seats crashed to the floor and the dropship started speeding, lights flickering even more.

"We are so gonna die!" Gabriella faintly heard her best friend panic over the loud noise in the crowded dropship.

"Everything here is over a hundred years old. Give it a minute to start working." the blonde snapped in return but gripped his hand tightly nonetheless.

There was a loud crash telling them the dropship landed and everyone slowly caught their breath. Gabriella looked around to see if she could spot any familiar faces before she let go of Murphy's hand and let out a sigh.

"Listen. No machine hum." a familiar voice was heard and Gabriella smiled to herself already recognizing who the voice belonged to.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and faintly heard another voice add a sarcastic 'well that's a first' but didn't have time to process who it belonged to because she worriedly rushed over to stand next to Finn who was hovering above the two unconscious boys on the floor.

"Finn, is he breathing?" she asked, putting an arm on his shoulder. The girl let out a sigh when he shook his head and looked towards the stairs leading to the bottom floor.

Murphy grabbed her wrist and nodded towards the door getting a nod in return. As the pair got to the first floor, they heard a familiar female voice call out, "We can't just open the doors!"

"Just back it up guys!" a deep male voice yelled causing Gabriella to furrow her eyebrows. She made her way to the front of the crowd to see an older guy dressed in a guard's uniform that made her narrow her eyes.

"Stop! The air could be toxic!" the same girl yelled as she made her way to the front, not aware her ex-best friend was standing a few steps next to her.

"If the air's toxic we're all dead anyway." the man in the guard's uniform simply shrugged.

It was obvious Clarke was about to argue but a voice from the back interrupted with a soft, "Bellamy?"

His head snapped to the sound of the female voice and his features completely softened once she walked in front of him. "Oh my, God. Look how big you are."

They exchanged a heartfelt hug that made Gabriella's eyes slightly soften. She knew who the girl was. Everyone did. But she actually remembered her from a few of her classes. The girls were not really friends but they talked a few times. It was enough to know she was a good kid.

"What the hell are you wearing?" the raven-haired girl asked, pointing to his jacket. "A guard's uniform?"

"I borrowed it to get in the dropship. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you." he told her quietly but the people at the front could still hear the conversation.

Gabriella turned around to whisper to Murphy with a small smirk, "So he is not a real guard. Which means we are gonna have freedom until The Ark comes down."

The boy mirrored her smirk. "You mean if they come down."

The duo snapped out of their little bubble when the siblings shared another hug which Clarke interrupted with another one of her unnecessary questions, "Where's your wristband?"

Way to ruin the moment Clarke. Gabriella thought with a bitter scowl on her face, a contrast to the easy-going look she was sporting before.

"Do you mind? I haven't seen my brother in a year." Octavia snapped, making the Kane girl smirk at her attitude. She already liked her.

That sentence was enough to make the crowd start whispering and Octavia quickly snapped her attention to them. The young girl was about to lunge forward but her brother held her back, leaning down to whisper, "Hey, let's give them something else to remember you by."

"Yeah, like what?"

Bellamy grinned at his annoyed sister, "Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years."

"Ninety-seven." Gabriella corrected under her breath and heard her male best friend let out a faint chuckle.

The older Blake either did not hear her comment or chose to ignore her correction. He turned his back on the impatient crowd of delinquents and reached for the lever, opening the doors and making them come face to face with planet Earth. Bellamy made everyone get behind so Octavia could walk out on her own. She took a few small steps and breathed the air in, then made her way to the bottom of the door and finally stepped on the ground to yell "We're back bitches!"

Gabriella watched as the delinquents made their way outside while jumping around and cheering. She turned to look at Murphy who was standing behind her and watching her with a small smile. "Ladies first."

The blonde chuckled before slowly stepping down the door and breathing in the fresh air that made her smile. She looked around at the trees and flowers all around her and her smile grew impossibly larger. She was on Earth.

Before she actually stepped on the ground she turned back at Murphy and offered him her hand, "Together?"

He nodded and took her hand. "Together."

The pair took a step down and stood firmly on the ground. Gabriella turned around to look at Murphy but before she could think about saying anything he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight, spinning her a little in the process.

She squealed in surprise but didn't hesitate to hug the boy back, "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too."

"I think this is the best gift you could have gotten today." Murphy announced with a grin.

Gabriella faked a disappointed expression. "I mean I'd really prefer getting floated over being here with you but a girl can dream right?"

"Ouch." he mocked hurt, making her chuckle.

"You, mind?" A voice echoed through the camp, making the pair turn their attention to the dropship door where Wells just pushed a boy with goggles back. Gabriella recognized the boy as Jasper Jordan and the way the chancellor's son pushed him back made her blood boil.

"Hey!" The blonde called as she walked up to them with John and a few other delinquents behind her, "Back off, Chancellor Junior. He's with us."

"We're just trying to figure out where we are." He defended himself, making her scoff.

"We're on the ground. That not good enough for you?" A male voice from behind them asked.

Gabriella turned around to see it was Bellamy with his sister right next to him. Wells followed her gaze and said, "We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father's message. That has to be our first priority."

"Screw your father." Octavia sneered, joining the discussion, "What? You think you're in charge here? You and your little princess?"

Gabriella nodded with a smirk which dropped into a scowl once again as her blonde ex-best friend spoke up, "You think we care who's in charge? We need to get to Mount Weather. Not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder this will be. How long do you think we'll last without those supplies? We're looking at a twenty-mile trek, okay? So if we wanna get there before dark, we need to leave. Now."

The Kane girl cleared her throat to bring everyone's attention to her and stepped closer, "Or you and your little boyfriend can go and do the hard work since you care about getting there so much. I don't know about you Princess, but we took Earth Skills for a reason. We don't need to do what Jaha says anymore. But you heard him, we're on the ground now, which means we're on our own."

Bellamy looked at the girl with a smirk before turning to look at Clarke and agreeing, "She's right. We should let the privileged do the hard work for a change."

There were sounds of agreement coming from the criminals around them, but Clarke didn't hear them since she was completely focused on the Kane that just told her off. The girls have not spoken in what felt like ages. They were inseparable since they were kids but Clarke just started pulling away and Gabriella didn't know what else to do so she just let her go. Neither of them made any effort to reconnect; with Clarke basically ghosting her and with Gabriella not wanting to put effort into a one-sided friendship.

"You're not listening. We all need to go." Wells yelled pleadingly, but Murphy cut him off by pushing him back.

"Look at this, everybody. It's the chancellor of Earth."

Gabriella chuckled at her best friend's words and crossed her arms over her chest with a small amused smirk.

"You think that's funny?"

The only response that Wells got was Murphy pushing him back further. He stumbled before he fell to the ground and twisted his ankle in the process. Murphy chuckled under his breath, "No, but that was."

Wells quickly got off the floor, stumbling a bit because of his foot. The boys got ready to fight before a male figure jumped from the dropship and between them. Gabriella only realized that that was Finn when he faced Murphy with a challenging look on his face and spoke up, "The kid's got one leg. How about you wait until it's a fair fight?"

Gabriella raised an eyebrow at the boy and shrugged. "Or Griffin here, could keep her dog on a leash and do us all a favour."

Wells made a show of scowling at her but Clarke couldn't find herself meeting her gaze and kept looking at the floor.

"Hey, Spacewalker." Octavia broke the argument by stepping closer to Finn and giving him a flirty look, "Rescue me next."

Finn grinned at the younger girl while Gabriella rolled her eyes and grabbed Murphy's arm, preparing to walk away. But before she did, she gave Jasper and Monty ( who barely took their eyes off of her since she stepped into the conversation ) a toothy grin, "Good to see you boys too."

The two best friends grinned as they watched her walk away, excited that one of their closest friends was there too.

Gabriella was distracted watching Clarke and Finn gather their group for Mount Weather so she didn't notice a taller male figure come up behind her.

"You're not going? I thought you were gonna be the first to sign up?"

The blonde snapped her head to the source of the voice and quickly tackled the taller male in a hug "Sam? What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam Sydney was Gabriella's oldest friend and the only childhood friend she kept in touch with. He may didn't like the fact that she was hanging out with people like John Murphy but they still kept hanging out. Murphy's dislike for him had more to do with the fact that Sam always had a thing for her than the fact that he was one of the privileged. But he never said anything about it so he remained her only friend from Alpha.

He grinned teasingly, "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am! It's just ── how the hell did you get arrested?" she asked, pulling away.

"I helped Wells burn the last Ark tree. I wanted to keep an eye on you and you know Wells goes wherever Clarke goes, even now that she hates his guts." he shrugged with a smirk, "You still didn't answer my question."

"What do you want me to do? Go on a day trip with Clarke? Willingly?" she shook her head and scoffed, "Someone's gotta keep things here in place. And I'll be damned if that turns out to be the fake guard."

"Someone doesn't handle authority well." Sam said, knowingly.

Gabriella pursed her lips with a shrug. "Depends on who it is. But that guy is up to something and I'm gonna figure out what it is. I'll see you around." She gave him one last grin before walking away.

"Find any water yet?" Murphy asked as he, Gabriella, and Mbege walked up to Wells, who was gathering wood for the fire.

"Not yet." He looked up. "I'm going back out if you wanna come."

He turned around to continue what he was doing but the words on the drop ship caught his attention:

"First son first to dye"

Gabriella figured Murphy and Mbege wrote that while she left them alone and couldn't help but chuckle at the terrible spelling. Murphy rubbed his nose with the hand that was still holding the knife he carved the writing in the dropship with, before he spoke coldly "You know, my father, he begged for mercy in the air-lock chamber when your father floated him."

Wells ignored his words and started walking off, bumping their shoulders together when he brushed passed him and huffing, "You spelled die wrong, geniuses."

Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest as she watched Wells walk away, addressing the two boys next to her with a ghost of a smirk, "That kid is gonna be easy to break."

"If you're gonna kill someone, it's probably best not to announce it."

The blonde turned around to see Bellamy standing in front of them. She narrowed her blue eyes at his uniform before letting them connect with his own. "Just trying to scare him a bit. There is no need to take any drastic measures yet."

Murphy nodded and chuckled, him too eying the guards uniform Bellamy was wearing. "You're not really a member of the Guard, are you?"

"No. The real Guard will be here soon unless we stop it. You don't actually think they're gonna forgive your crimes?" Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest, "Even if they do, then what? People like us, we're gonna become citizens now? Get jobs? If we're lucky, maybe pick up their trash."

Gabriella looked at him with narrowed eyes before letting a small smirk ghost her lips. For some reason, he didn't want The Ark to come down. But it wasn't for the reason he was telling them. He must've done something so fucked up to get down here. The Ark would probably kill him instantly if they found him on the ground with the hundred. She doubted that his sneaking onto that ship was legal. Especially since he was not an actual guard.

"You got a point?" Mbege snapped, getting impatient listening to his mocking.

"No. I have a question. They locked you up, dumped you down here like lab rats to die. So why are you helping them?" Bellamy questioned, faking curiosity.

"The hell we are."

"You're wearing those bracelets aren't you?" he taunted, "Those things are telling them whether or not it's safe to follow us down."

"Okay, so you said we could stop it. How?" Murphy asked, making his best friend raise an eyebrow at him. She couldn't believe he was really buying this bullshit.

"Take them off. The Ark will think you're dead. That it isn't safe to follow. You follow?"

"Right." Murphy grinned. "And if we do, I mean what's in it for us?"

Bellamy's smirk grew at how easy it was to get them to follow along with his plan. "Someone's gotta help me run things." His attention quickly turned to the girl in the group and he added, "Especially you. They seem to listen to you. You're from Alpa, right? But you are still one of them."

"Oh, I know they listen to me." Gabriella lifted her chin up to meet his gaze, "But I'm not gonna be using that to help you."

She had two options. She could take the wristband off and piss her father off which was getting exhausting since she realized he stopped caring a long time ago, and she could keep the wristband on and piss Bellamy off. The second option seemed much more appealing at the moment. She could always take the wristband off when she got bored.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow "And why is that?"

Gabriella turned to the two Johns behind her and motioned for them to leave them alone. Once they walked away far enough so they were out of earshot, she turned back to Bellamy.

"I don't know if you already realized this, Blake, but I don't do well with authority." She stepped closer so they were almost chest-to-chest. "I don't know what you did to get down here. But unless you get out of my way, I won't hesitate to find out. You aren't one of us and it's only a matter of time until they realize that. It's obvious you're only here to protect your little sister. You don't actually care about any of us. I get that. You're her big brother and that is what you are supposed to do. But I'm also pretty sure there's another reason you don't want The Ark to come down here." She swore she saw a flash of fear in his eyes which he instantly tried to cover up with anger. Her smirk grew and she tilted her head. "I'd be extra nice to me down here, Blake. Haven't you heard that a foreign king usually ends up dead?"

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched tight. "Was that a threat?"

She smiled innocently and shrugged, "I don't know. Was it?"

#the 100 #the hundred #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #john murphy #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x reader #john murphy x reader #john murphy imagine #john murphy x oc #clarke griffin #octavia blake #wells jaha

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omgserafinablog · 2 years

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oh, this destroying concern from Valentine

Jonathan is the only child he has ever loved and even though his daughter is standing in front of them, looking adamant and headstrong as ever, he knows Jonathan will still be the only child heever loves.

Clarissa has already been infected and tainted by Jocelyn and Lucian. There's no way left to reach her and he will not try needlessly. It would be pointless. Jace, however, still has that innate goodness inside of him. A beautiful boy and the only thing he will ever be proud of in this life. He thinks of Jace's heart now and sees what could have been. He sees the idealistic seventeen year old he used to be and he sees the pureness that he never contained.

His strives aren't pointless; the uprising was a failure, but he's positive he can get it right now. Only with his son by his side. This will work, he says to himself.

"Jocelyn is your mother, Jonathan. And Clary --" He glances to his beautiful, angry daughter. "Clary is your sister."

He's mine, he wants to say to his daughter. He's mine and you cannot poison him like your mother poisoned me.

🖤💥ff: you don't have to be fast [but you better be fearless]

wr: thiswholeflight

#the mortal instruments #shadowhunters #fanfic #jace herondale #valentine morgenstern #clary fray #cassandra jean #tmi graphic novel #my favorite fan fiction #father/son feelings

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sithlich · 4 months

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@barkonthedancefloor Lily has an interesting life story and I know so many fun facts and quirks about her I'm going to write about it here because she is my friend and she makes me happy.

The youngest Lily could be is 19 years old. I'm 30, her owner (my bff) is 32. We met when we were in high school (not Lily she did not go to high school) so about 2008-2009. She is bff's cat who he met on his then gf's family's farm. gf's family inherited her from their grandparents who swore she has papers and a registered breed but never saw the papers (might be BS). Lily jumped off the shed roof to tackle and kill a squirrel and bff watched a few yards away and fell in love. His gf's brother kicked Lily out of the house for peeing. This extremely young, previously kittypet was now a barncat. Bff got to pet her a couple times but Lily was distant and not really friendly with people.

(Lily 2020)

Bff and gfs family watched Lily deliver some barnkittens, who were missing and never found. Gfs family SWEARS Lily ate them. Few months go by. Icy cold weather hits the upper Peninsula. Way below freezing. Gfs family don't really do anything with their barncats apparently. Bff thinks of Lily and goes to his gfs house that evening and catches this downtrodden former kittypet-now rowdy independent barncat, gets a ride home (16 year old passenger princess lol) and begs his dad to let him keep Lily there. Dad relents and says yes.

Bffs dad already has 3 cats though. Very sweet things mostly but very strong personalities, no respect for a Lady's personal space. It's like Greta Garbo living with the 3 Stooges. Lily spends all of her time under bffs bed or glued to him. Lily quickly becomes very affectionate with bff. This is very easy to anthropomorphise into "gratefulness" or "love" but he certainly loved her from the start. Even though he didn't really have control over everything in the house as one teenager in a house of 3+ people bff did everything he could to baby and bond with this cat. Bff shortly got to decide where he lived fulltime, being that bff's parents were divorced. Bff had not planned for this. Bff went to live with his mom, and she said "no cat, my boyfriends allergic." Bff experiences deep woe but needs the stability of his mom.

(Squirrel the dog and Lily synchronized, 2022)

Bff's mom breaks up with the guy and bff gets a job at burger king! When bff is seventeen he is allowed to bring Lily to his mom's house! Joyful reunion. Lily realizes that sometimes I come over and sleep in Bffs bed. Lily's response to this was initial coldness, and a piss on the blanket to wake us up that night. 😑 But we became fast friends once we spent more time together. I had never been friends with a cat since my family's childhood cat Bob. He was a fat siamese which left us when I was the age of 3. Every other cat I attempted to befriend seemed like an alien intent on scratching the shit out of my arms legs and face. (I was a child and probably mostly interacting with cats who didn't like strangers.) Lily mostly enjoyed sitting near you, accepting gentle neck scratches, and squeaking sweetly. Lily has a scratchy 'cre-e-ek!' as a senior kitty, when she was younger her voice was more resonant, even lilting and melodic. "Bmraa-eh?" The platonic ideal of a meow. She would ingratiate herself by stretching up to sniff your mouth in an amusing imitation of a kiss. Lily would wrap her tail around one's leg and blink up at you. Once she decided you were safe, Lily was a very affectionate friend.

(Lily climbs into bffs lap after he has fallen asleep in a kitchen chair. He is exhausted as he has worked late, but Lily MUST sit on him and sponge affection from him. She misses him desperately when they must be apart. 2016)

Lily has come with us through 7 moves. Lily comforted both of us when bff and I broke up and became just-friends-but-still-roommates. (Bff's nickname in my phone is "😗EXIE🤓.") Lily watched us flop at opening a small business. Lily has helped BFF write every song he's ever written, purring on his lap or shoulder, on top of his desk knocking all the stuff off it. She loves nighttime-only car-rides. Lily relaxes, flops down and purrs when BFF plays his guitar softly and sings for her. Lily is VERY interested in human food right now. Lily Loves her new Senior Girl Catfood. Lily wakes bff up by biting his big toe with her incisors AS HARD AS SHE CAN. Lily still enjoys knocking her water bowl over so she can watch the water move (ambivalent about fancy cat fountains).

(Myself and lily 2022)

I am writing this partly because I have reflected with my friends about her mortality recently. Making plans for "what if," yknow. I am high and I love my cat very very much. Lily is the kind of creature you meet once every lifetime, I know I'll never meet another like her. I cherished our time together and feel lucky that my life intersected with hers. Lily has brought so much comfort, companionship, consolement, wisdom, amusement, inspiration, charity and serendipity to my own, and countless others lives.

#lily the cat #dates on photos are approximate #i am high

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middleageamerican · 1 year

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Pampers

seventeen . . sweet 16 a year late . . Hana my wife y yo wr guests . . she stood mid special-event space and made a speech 4 each of 17 candles . . the moment lacked typical missteps of a seventeen-yr-old girl making an emotional public speech . . she was confident . . now pregnant Hana y yo r invited 2 her baby shower . . by the gdad of the baby . . eye imagine her man is not a slacker . . eye…

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ncityzen · 4 years

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SSJDJDKL

#going back to sleep for a bit but i just had a dream where i was like in sm worh one of my best friends and sm had told us he'd put us #in some sort of unit with nct (but like we were already part of nct) but then they had planned things horribly and just ended up adding us #to superm right before they were going on tour which was awful for learning the choreo and stuff and i was super mad at sm for this #so then it was like i was in school and sm was some sort of teacher i didn't like and i saw mingyu and joshua from seventeen sat somewhere #and mingyu saw me angry and was like come sit here and spill it all my friend so i basically ranted to mingyu about how like #how sm doesn't plan anything and how wr didn't have any meetings at the start of term lmao and mingyu s #was like wait let's hide behind these bags i see lee sooman there and then we were in Sevilla #ANYWAYS sorry for typing all of this out on here i needed to before i can write it down on my phone notes later #but basically i feel like i reached into ten's soul through my dreams or something thank you #erola.txt

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youcouldmakealife · 3 years

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LBTE: Jared (37-40)

In which Bryce’s drinking turns into, well, a powder keg situation, a cornered Bryce lashes out, Jared struggles to express concern without judgment, Chaz ‘no snide’ Rossi honestly probably saves their relationship, and a crying Bryce means a crying Taylor.

Series page if you want to follow along.

37. Powder Keg

Fuck, Jared doesn’t want to play for a shitty team.

Haha sucks to be future you.

shit tly frgt u wr bk brt sry, Bryce sends, which is basically indecipherable.

Shit totally forgot you were back be right there sorry, if you also need the translation.

“Sorry,” Bryce says again — Jared figured out that one too — when he walks in the door twenty minutes later.

“No worries,” Jared says, but he reverses that immediately when he gets a better look at Bryce, who’s practically weaving on his feet. He nearly fucking goes down head first when he tries to get his shoes off.

This is gonna hurt.

“Few guys recognised us, bought us drinks,” Bryce says, which isn’t an answer.

Which is in turn code for ‘the fuckboy persona was firmly on with both teammates and fans and Bryce drank his way through it’.

“Sorry,” Jared mumbles, then heads upstairs before she can take the apology as permission to ask again, because the longer he stays, the more likely he is to spill it all, and the deck’s stacked enough against Bryce with his parents as it is. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it being stacked more, considering, but Jared doesn’t want to blow shit up just because he’s pissed off now.

This tendency of Jared’s not to go into any arguments he has with Bryce because his parents already disapprove probably salvaged Bryce’s long term relationship with them, but it really left him without a safety net outside of Raf (and later Chaz)

Bryce is sitting on the couch when Jared lets himself in, looks up at Jared with this expression that’s half conciliatory, half — Jared doesn’t know how to describe it. Braced for something, maybe. Which is probably good.

Half very defensive. This is a sore af subject for Bryce.

“I don’t want to date someone who gets trashed and then punches someone or fucking gets in a car accident,” Jared says. “Do you not get that? The shit they say about you being a fucking wild card who can’t control himself, I know that’s not you, but it isn’t not not you either.”

This. Bryce has lost control of himself sober as well, but alcohol has definitely been an accelerant.

“Look, you’re like, seventeen, so maybe—” Bryce says.

“Oh don’t give me that condescending ‘you’re seventeen’ shit,” Jared says. “Just because I’m not legal yet doesn’t mean I’ve never drank before. I just know my goddamn limits.”

“Right,” Bryce says. “I forgot, you’re perfect. Always home by curfew, never drink more than—”

“This isn’t about me,” Jared snaps. “This is about me being worried about you.”

Jared worried comes off a lot like Jared judgy sometimes. (Possibly because judgy is Jared’s default state, and worry is no exception.)

“You’re being worse than my fucking mom right now,” Bryce says.

“Then maybe she needs to be harder on you,” Jared says. “Someone clearly does.”

That crossed a line Jared didn’t know was there. Bryce is defensive in general when on the back foot? If you bring Elaine into it he’s going onto the offensive.

Bryce returns with a fucking beer, twists off the cap like he’s punctuating something, taking a long sip that’s a non-verbal equivalent of ‘go fuck yourself’.

“What are you even doing right now?” Jared asks.

“What does it look like?” Bryce asks.

“Bryce, for fuck’s—”

“Better leave,” Bryce says. “Wouldn’t want your mom getting pissed.”

And that would be the offensive.

He heads out so furious he doesn’t remember to grab his math textbook, and there’s no fucking way he’s going back for it now, has to sit in the front seat of his car until his hands stop shaking too much for him to drive.

Jared’s poor math grades.

38. Storm Cloud

“At least the Flames are doing well right now,” his grandma says brightly, her standard subject change when things are shit (well, when the Flames aren’t shit, which was rare until lately), and it is — unhelpful.

“Yeah,” his mom says. “I’ve been impressed by Bryce Marcus this season.”

Susan is such a troll.

Jared throws his phone — onto the bed, he’s not stupid enough to break it, especially since there’s like a year left on the plan before he can get another one.

Even when Jared’s having his drama queen moments he is very conscious of not doing regrettable things. Unless he is making words with his mouth. That can go awry.

“Going for a run,” he tells his mom, and heads out the door to her, “Jared, it’s freezing out there—”

It kind of is, but it isn’t long until he warms up enough that the hoodie feels like too much, and thankfully for once the sidewalks are mostly free of snow. He’s got to watch his feet for any black ice, though, which is just enough distraction to keep him from focusing solely on Bryce — it’s more 95%. This was a bad idea. Why the fuck did he think running would distract him? Running’s when the bad thoughts decide to loudly make their presence known, and he didn’t need the help this time.

Jared turns back before long, because he’s running pissed, and that’s never a good thing.

No regrettable actions!!! Jared retreats!

“No bad vibes allowed in my house,” Chaz says. “And your vibe sucks.”

Chaz Rossi calling it like it is.

“Is it the travel?” Chaz asks. “That’s like, every single fight Ashley and I have.”

Ashley. That’s his girlfriend’s name.

And we’re adding Ashley to the crew!!!

“You tell him this shit?” Chaz asks.

“I mean, basically,” Jared says. “He got super defensive about it, so. We’re kind of not talking right now.”

“Did you tell him like, what you told me?” Chaz asks. “Or did you do it all ‘you’?”

He did it all him, Chaz. He did it all him.

“I dunno if anyone’s ever told you this before,” Chaz says. “But you’re kind of, like, snide sometimes.”

“Hey,” Jared says. “I am not.”

Jared.

“Dude,” Chaz says. “Seriously. Were you snide?”

“I was…maybe a little snide,” Jared says.

THANK you.

“Maybe try without the snide?” Chaz asks.

“It just comes naturally to me,” Jared says weakly.

“Oh, I can tell,” Chaz says.

“Hey,” Jared says. “That was kind of snide, Chaz.”

“Must be like, from proximity,” Chaz says.

I love you Chaz.

He heads home after the pizza, Chaz giving him a bro hug and then this weirdly earnest ‘you got this, dude’. Jared’s pretty sure he doesn’t, but it feels good to hear someone say it.

Earnestness isn’t weird, Jared, you’re just a hobgoblin.

Can we talk? Jared writes, adds Without a beer this time, then deletes it. Not that Bryce doesn’t deserve it, but it’s probably not the way to get him to agree, and it may be, in the words of one Chaz Rossi, ‘snide’.

Yes. That would indeed be ‘snide’.

39. Breaking it Down

Will I be able to read this part without crying because Bryce is crying and when Bryce cries I cry? We shall see!

gonna talk to bj?

Yeah, after school. Jared texts back.

good luck dude. no snide

Jared rolls his eyes, but smiles a little. No snide, he texts back.

GO TEAM, NO SNIDE.

“How’re you?” Jared asks, kind of awkward, not sure what to say, or like, whether to give Bryce a hug or kiss him or keep his distance because they’re fighting. He hates this.

Bryce shrugs a little, which is emphatically unhelpful.

Jared goes snide? Bryce goes sullen. It’s not a great combo.

“If you’re not around why do you even fucking care?” Bryce asks. “It’s not like it affects you.”

“It doesn’t affect me?” Jared says. “Are you serious right now?”

“Well you’re not there,” Bryce mutters.

“You think, what,” Jared says. “I suddenly stop giving a shit about you when I’m not within ten feet of you?”

Bryce shrugs a little.

Ugh this is about to get to the root of so many insecurities and — fuck, this part always guts me.

“I’m not giving you an ultimatum,” Jared says. “I can’t stop you from drinking when I’m not around, honestly, and I don’t want you hiding shit just because you’ll think that’s what’ll get me to shut up about it.”

This is a good move.

“I didn’t say that,” Jared says. “I’m not asking you to like, never drink again, just stop drinking so much you hit ‘hey, a felony would be a goddamn great idea’. Or, I don’t know, if you’re getting there and it’s hard to stop, instead of having another, call me.”

This is also a good move. See what happens when you practice what you’re going to say first, and attempt to get your concerns across and offer solutions instead of leaning into the snide? Positive results, Jared!

“How am I supposed to know that?” Bryce says. “What, do you think everyone goes around with a Breathalyzer or some shit?”

“Okay, this is — getting off track,” Jared says, instead of ‘maybe you should have checked before you got in a car with him’, because it’s just going to make things worse, turn into the same argument as last time, Bryce a brick wall that doesn’t listen to anything Jared says, still believing this is somehow about breaking Jared’s mom’s rule. “I want to break this down into like…discrete things, so I can be sure you’re getting what I’m saying.”

Deep breaths, no snide, back to what he practiced because he knew he needed to get it across.

“I love you,” Jared says. “We’re like — that one you get, right? That I love you?”

“You too,” Bryce mumbles, which is like. Giving Jared a bit of hope there.

“Okay, and building off that, because I love you, I care what happens to you, whether I’m there or not,” Jared says. “You still with me?”

“I told you I’m not stupid,” Bryce says.

Oh Bryce.

“I know,” Jared says. “But you seem to believe the first thing and not the second one and I don’t get it. Like, obviously I care what happens to you. Can you — can you sit by me, maybe?”

“Why?” Bryce asks.

“Because you’re too far away and I hate it,” Jared says, and Bryce chews his lip for a moment before getting up, sitting on the other side of the couch. It’s still too far, but Jared isn’t going to push it right now.

Physical touch love language, baby.

“Yes,” Bryce says. “You are. And you don’t think I’ve heard this before? You think this is any different from being hauled into front office? I’m so fucking sick of people yelling at me and acting like I’m fucking stupid.”

Jared bites down hard on what wants to come out of his mouth, that Bryce isn’t, but he’s done stupid fucking shit. Opposite of helpful.

Yes good call. That would have…not gone well. Understatement.

“And I thought you were—” Bryce says.

“Thought I was what?” Jared prompts, when Bryce doesn’t finish.

Bryce shrugs, jerky.

“Bryce,” Jared says.

“I just, I get all this shit, and everyone treats me like I’m like, this fucking mess, and the media keeps telling everyone I’m a fucking mess, and you just —” Bryce says. “You too, apparently.”

For all Jared’s snide, and the fact that Jared was objectively REALLY MEAN to him at the beginning, Jared’s become a safe place for Bryce, someone he can be his authentic self with, someone he can drop the persona (and who doesn’t LIKE the persona, likes the real Bryce and not the fake one), literally the only non-family member he’s done that with since he was a crybaby kid (and mocked like crazy for that) and so he’s so, so vulnerable to getting his feelings hurt because he’s laid himself bare, so when Jared digs in, he’s got no protection.

“Bryce,” Jared says, and when Bryce doesn’t respond, staring at his hands, Jared reaches out and takes one. Bryce flinches, a little, but he doesn’t pull away, and that’s — something, right? Jared hopes it’s something. “Do you honestly think I’d be with you if I thought that?”

Bryce shrugs, and honestly, Jared hates that shrug, because it increasingly looks like a shrug of ‘I’m dismissing what you’re saying’, and that’s —

“You’re like, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” Jared says. “And I don’t know why you don’t show that all the time to like, everyone, but I’m really glad you show it to me. And you’re crazy fucking talented, I can’t even comprehend how you do some of the shit you do on the ice. And you’re totally a mama’s boy. Which I find like, kind of adorable.”

Bryce sniffs once, and if Bryce starts crying, Jared actively has no idea what to do. He threads their fingers, and Bryce lets him, squeezes back a little when Jared tightens his grip.

“Your hockey IQ is straight up insane, and I have no idea how you like, memorise everything I like the second I mention it, and your taste in TV is kind of shitty but I honestly don’t mind because I feel fucking crazy whenever I’m around you, so I usually can’t focus on anything but you anyway,” Jared says. “You’re not the shit they say about you, okay? I know you.”

Bryce squeezes harder, on the wrong edge of painful, but there’s no fucking way Jared’s letting go.

“Do you not get by now that I think you’re fucking amazing?” Jared says. “Because if you don’t, I’m really sorry I haven’t told you that like, constantly. Because you are.”

And — now Jared is completely at a loss, because Bryce is definitely crying, something that starts quiet, just his shoulders shaking a little, and then becomes this ugly, heartbreaking thing.

Bryce needed to hear this so badly. And yes I am tearing up.

“Fuck,” Jared says. “Come here?”

Bryce does, letting go of Jared’s hand to fist his hands in Jared’s shirt, his face hidden in Jared’s throat, Jared’s skin damp, hands on Bryce’s shaking back.

“Bryce,” Jared says helplessly, and he can’t think of anything he can do except hold on, so that’s what he does.

Whenever Jared’s not sure what to do with Bryce’s emotions (because they are SO BIG and Jared is SO OVERWHELMED BY THEM he just holds on tight. That’s his reflex. Just be there for Bryce for the duration. And it helps.

#Liveblogging The End

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haylewilliams · 4 years

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heathers, 1988 (wr. dan waters)

betty finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of swatchdogs and diet coke heads.

betty, 2020 (wr. taylor swift & william bowery)

I'm only seventeen - I don't know anything, but I know I miss you (standing in your cardigan).

#taylor swift #tswiftedit #betty #heathers #heathers movie #lyrics #my edit #HEATHERS STANS PLEASE MAKE SOME NOISE!!#LOSING MY SHIT!!

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

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The Musician (l.w.z) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 4.5k / Ending B - 4.4k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"How do you know that?" Yong smirks at me as we walk out of her office.

"Because I am an all knowing being." I say smugly in return but Yong smacks my shoulder, "Ah, okay. I overheard Jiwoo and Mun Hee giggling about what to get you."

Yong exhales, "Oh, they're getting me a gift?"

I shrug, "I guess. You should probably tell them if you don't want it."

"Well, this will be the first time in 500 years that's someone's gotten me a gift for this anniversary. So I'll take it." Yong giggles happily.

"Am I expected to get you something?" I ask, mildly panicking about what to get her.

"A gift from you?" She smiles, "While it would be a miracle to see that happen, no, you don't need to get me anything. Especially if Jiwoo and Mun Hee are going to get me something."

"I'm sure they'll make sure it's grand." I reassure her. "Where are you headed?" I ask when I realize I have no idea where we're headed.

"Hm," She chuckles, "Well the Gods thought it would be great to send us a few new employees. So I have a nice little orientation to go through with them."

"How many did they send?" I ask, slightly weirded out that we would get new staff.

Yong blows airs through her lips, "Five."

"Not too bad." I shrug as we near the conference room, "Where are they being stationed?"

"3 are being attached to Soon Bok in rooms and 2 are going down to the kitchen." She explains with a hand on the door handle.

I nod in understanding, "Alright."

Yong nods in farewell and turns the door handle but I stop her with my next questions.

"Oh, just quickly, what room and how long?" I ask in a quick breath.

"Room 221 and 15 days." Yong says softly with an even softer smile.

"Good luck." I tell her and walk back to the lobby so I can make my up to my office.

With my hands clasped behind my back, I walk lightly and just listen to the sounds of the hotel. The dings of the elevators. The lively chatter of the guests walking to and fro. The muffled footsteps mixing with the sharp clicks of heels against the tile floors.

My body feels light and for a moment, I feel happy and calm.

But it all comes crashing down when I hear yelling from the lobby.

"Why is it always the lobby?" I groan to myself and redirect my route.

When I enter the lobby, I see a group surrounding one man who looks like he wants to take them all but also very panicked on the inside. The group around him is shouting angrily and some are even trying to throw punches at him.

As I approach the group, Mun Hee walks out from the reception room and Jiwoo falls in step with me.

"Do I want to know what happened here?" I ask, leaning towards Jiwoo.

"I don't even know what happened." Jiwoo whispers back as the group's noise level grows louder.

I groan and throw my head back, eyes closed. "Why me? Why my hotel?" I wonder out loud.

Lowering my head, my gaze hardens and my expressions steels. "HEY!" I yell louder than the crowd and make all heads turn to me. "What is going on?"

A split second of silence and then all the guests start talking and yelling and point all at once. I hold up a hand and their voices quiet down immediately.

I inhale and prepare to rip into these people verbally but one of the guests yells out.

"He murdered us!" He yells angrily. "We're dead, and it's HIS fault." He's pointing at the man in the center. The one who's eyes are split between cockiness and panic.

"Did you?" I ask the man, stepping closer.

"Did I?" The man repeats my question with an arrogant smirk, "Did I do what?"

I close my eyes and mentally roll my eyes so hard before opening them again. I meet his gaze while fighting back a scowl. "Did you murder these people?" I expand my pretty obvious question.

The man half smiles, "Maybe."

Jiwoo tenses in fear behind me while I tense in annoyance.

"It's a yes or no question." I state and take a step closer. "You either did." Another step closer. "Or you didn't." Another step. "Answer me now." A step closer and I'm only a few feet away from him.

The man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He even puffs out his chest a little. "And if I did? What are you going to do? Kick me out?"

I scoff, "Kick you out? No. No, I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, I killed them." The man interrupts me before I get to the good part.

I glance behind the man and meet the gaze of Shin standing next to Mun Hee a feet away.

"Again, I wouldn't." I repeat myself for emphasis, "But Shin, here, will escort you to the place you actually belong." I smirk and Shin approaches the man from behind.

"Wha-" The man stutters as Shin grabs his arms and starts dragging him backwards.

"Where, where are you taking me?" He struggles against Shin's iron clad grip.

A smokey grey doorway appears on the wall and Shin heads straight into it with the man struggling behind him. Shin gives me a curt wave and I return the gesture with a small smile before the two of them disappear into the grey smoke. And in a blink of an eye, the doorway disappears.

I turn and walk back to Jiwoo who blinks a few times to reset himself.

"Ah, uhm, I do apologize for... that." Jiwoo says once he has his voice back. "He will no longer be a problem so I do genuinely hope you enjoy your stay here. I will have refreshments sent up to your rooms."

Mun Hee leads some guests away as they break away from the group while the others disperse by themselves. Jiwoo stays quiet at my side and I finally let my shoulders relax slightly. A female guest walks up to us and takes my hands in hers.

"Can I finally rest?" She asks with pleading eyes.

I nod once, "You can rest now."

The guest smiles happily and a male wraps his arms around her shoulders. He pulls her away towards the elevators. Jiwoo and I turn and follow their movements.

"Sooo..." Jiwoo drags out the word when all the guests are out of earshot, "Where did Shin take that guy?"

I smile with mischief, "A place similar to what you humans call hell."

Jiwoo's eyes widen, "But what about the souls who had a past life of a murderer?"

"One or two murders is, unfortunately, passable for another life in the human world." I explain, eyeing the other guests milling around the lobby, "However, kill three or more and the Gods end your lives right there and then. When they reach our front desk, Shin is usually waiting to take them to 'hell.' Though I don't know what happened today." I say, slightly confused.

"So hell really does exist?" Jiwoo wonders in awe, "Like there's an actual place where terrible souls go?"

I chuckle and look over at him, "It exists and, no, you don't want to know what it's like."

"Okay." Jiwoo takes in my answer, "Then have you ever been there?"

"Once." I breathe out, "When Shin was busy with a departure and there was a female who killed 8 people acting psychotic in here. I had to take her there and for the record," I lean over and whisper, "Even I don't ever want to do it again." A shiver runs down my spine as the memory of the cold empty air resurfaces.

Jiwoo is stunned into silence and he just blinks at me. "That... That is scarier than all the stories my world has of it."

"All you need to know about it, is that the souls who go there, certainly belong there." I tell him and then walk to the elevator. Reaching the elevator, I press the up button as Jiwoo calls out another question.

"(y/n)! What do you call it?" He asks and his curiosity evident when I turn around.

"There." I tell him as the elevator dings and the doors open.

Leaving him no time to respond, I enter the elevator and press the floor where my office is located. And let the doors close shut.

~The Fifteenth Day~

The bright sun burns against my skin as I sit outside on a picnic blanket. Soft guitar plucks flow through the air. I turn towards the sound and find Woozi sitting next to me with a guitar in his lap.

He looks up and notices my gaze. A lazy smile grows on his face and he stops plucking at the strings.

"Like it?" Woozi asks, resting his arm on the top of the guitar.

"Not sure what it was." I answer him, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Woozi laughs, "Me neither to be honest."

"Well, for a moment, it sounded like you had a melody going." I say leaning my head on top of my knees.

"Which part?" He inquires with eyes full of wonder.

I bite my bottom lip in thought, "The small bit with the repeated runs."

"That's like the entire thing." Woozi chuckles and shakes his head. "I always forget you're not versed in music terms."

I roll my eyes, "You try running a full-scal-" I stop myself mid sentence realizing what I was about to say. In my time with Woozi, I've become extremely relaxed and almost let my secret slip.

"Running a what?" Woozi smiles softly, amusement showing on his face.

"A full scale family." I clear my throat, covering up my mistake.

"I thought you didn't have a family?" He questions, setting the guitar aside.

My eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. I blink a few times as my mind races to think of another excuse. With each second that passes, my heart beat starts to beat faster. But Woozi grabs my hand, smiles, and makes my panic disappear in a second.

"Don't worry, I won't push." He says softly, "I know you don't like to talk about it."

I turn up the corners of my mouth and he gives my hand a squeeze before picking up his guitar again. I rest my hand on the blanket and continue to watch Woozi as he resumes his random plucking.

My fingers fumble with the pen in my hand and it clatters onto the floor breaking me out of my daydream.

"Fuck." I mumble and bend over to pick the pen up off the floor.

My hand wraps around the pen when someone quickly opens and shuts my door. I jump in surprise which results in me hitting my head on my desk.

"Fuck!" I groan in pain and slowly rise up, the pen still in my hand, somehow. With a hand rubbing the spot on my head, I look towards the door and find Yong leaning her back against it, breathing heavily. Her eyes are wild and in a slight panic.

"Are you okay?" I ask with slight concern that the hotel may be in extreme, extreme chaos.

Yong nods while still catching her breath. "Uhm, I sort of blew up the gift that Mun Hee and Jiwoo got me. And... they found out." She reaches the climax of her story.

"How did it happen?" I ask, trying to mask my laughter.

"Well," Yong exhales, pushing away from the door, "I was trying to turn a knob on it and then a different piece sprang off. And then another. And then the whole thing came apart within seconds." She finishes and glances back at the door to make sure it stays shut. "It was just my luck and then even more my luck that they passed by my OPEN office door." She shakes her head, "I ran out while they were stuck frozen, just staring at the scattered pieces."

I place the pen back in it's holder, "You'll be okay. They'll forget about it." I comfort her then wiggle my eyebrows, "Especially if you ask them to help you put it back together."

"That is an excellent way to get pummeled by two employees." Yong rolls her eyes and I laugh with glee.

"You'd survive." I tell her, our smiles still lingering.

"Barely." She mumbles, "Uhm, I was supposed to talk to you about a few things but," Yong gestures to her empty arms, "I kind of don't have the files."

I wave my hands dismissively, "We can it without the folders. It's not like I look at them anyway."

"True." She nods her head at me, "Well, Shin just helped with two departures and there are 3 more left today. There weren't any check ins during the day but Mun Hee checked in 3 guests as the moon rose. Soon Bok's new employees are picking up the work nicely and the guests have nothing but compliments for them." Yong looks up at the ceiling in thought, making sure she's not missing anything.

Yong's phone dings with a notification and she quickly pulls it out. "And Soon Bok just dropped Woozi off in the garden."

"She dropped him off?" I chuckle and raise to my feet.

Yong shrugs, "Hey, do you mind if I hide out here for a bit? I kind of want to avoid Jiwoo and Mun Hee."

I nod, "Go ahead. Just don't let Jiwoo or Mun Hee trash my office."

Yong throws me a thumbs up as I walk past towards the door. I throw one back and exit my office, heading towards the bare tree sitting in the center of the lonely garden.

As I enter my garden, I'm welcomed with the soft patter of fingers drumming against a table. Smiling, I turn towards the source and see Woozi staring out the window, his fingers mindlessly drumming to a melody that only he can hear.

"Oh, I like that bit." I say and Woozi's head whips around, startled. I giggle and he chuckles at the fright he fell into.

"Well, now I forgot what that bit even sounded like." He pouts and I sit in the empty chair next to him. "But if you give me another hour, I probably could find it again."

I hum in amusement, "If you did that, I wouldn't be able to talk to you." Now I'm the one pouting.

"What do you want to talk about then?" Woozi asks, resting his chin on his fists.

"Anything." I say with a smile, "Everything."

Woozi chuckles, "Where would you like me to start?"

I pucker my lips in thought, "Mm, start like you always did. With the music."

"With the music." Woozi repeats my words and leans back in his chair, "Well, I wrote a lot after you left. Wrote and composed. So much, in fact, that I had nearly 100 titles under my belt within 10 years." He smiles at the achievement, "Was considered a musical genius by everyone. Even the critics. Though they continued to enjoy ripping my pieces to critical shreds."

"I thought the critics loved you." I wonder.

"Oh, they loved me." He agrees, "But they also hated me. My pieces were so beautiful but they were made up of the worst parts. The critics never understood how so many terrible passages could mesh together to make the most beautiful piece their ears had ever heard."

"There was never another Jihoon. Ever." I reference the pseudonym he used and lean my head on my hand.

"You kept an eye out?" Woozi asks with delight.

"Of course, I did." I scoff, "I had to make sure no one would surpass your level of genius."

"And what if someone came who was better than me? What would you have done?" He questions me, squinting his eyes.

I shrug, "Probably delayed or made it so their works were never as good as yours."

"Seriously, how would you have done that?" Woozi smiles at my ridiculous statement.

"Twisted the Gods arm and forced them to." I state definitively much like a child.

Woozi bursts into laughter, his body rocking forward and his hands clutching his stomach. His outburst makes me laugh as well because we both know that I would never be able to do such a thing.

"Did your kids like your music?" I ask when our laughter has died down.

"My kids?" Woozi asks.

"Did... you not have kids?" I hesitantly ask, wondering if I got that piece of information wrong. "I thought I heard news that you and your wife had 2 children together before she... passed away." I avoid eye contact because I remember hearing about the slump he slipped into after she died.

"Yeah, I had two kids. Twins." He sighs and grabs my hand, partly to tell me it's okay to look at him and partly for his own reassurance. "Sunny and Yuna. And yeah, they did for a while... and then they were teenagers."

I smile at the unfortunate growth of a human.

"But they came back to loving my music once I retired." Woozi continues. "Sunny became a music professor and she used a lot of my works for her students analyze. And Yuna went into music therapy. She also used my works but for vastly different reasons."

"They did what I expected of a musician's kids." I comment, "You raised them well. They carried on your legacy."

"And how do you know that?" Woozi asks, "I thought you couldn't get involved in my life after you left."

I smirk, "I can't get involved, but I can keep up. Your name didn't just disappear into the noise like most peoples do. Yours stood out for many, many years. I got to see your daughters create a foundation in your name that helped kids get an arts education. I saw your grandchildren continue that foundation. I saw Jihoon's pieces played throughout the decades."

"You watched for that long?" He asks, sincerely touched by my words.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I answer his question with a question, "I wasn't going to just sit around all day, twiddling my thumbs, and waiting for the next love. Besides, since you were no longer in that life, I could get involved... kind of."

"What did you do? Donate money to the foundation every year?" Woozi guesses my exact actions on a whim.

I press my lips together and the information clicks in his head. I even see a tiny light bulb illuminate behind his eyes.

"You donated??" He says, grabbing the table and the back of his chair for support.

"Not a lot." I keep his expectations low, "Just a few thousand every year at the beginning of November."

"My birthday month." He smugly smiles.

"My very own memoriam." I tell him, leaning closer.

Woozi leans forward and presses his lips against mine just for a second, "It fits you beautifully."

I smile happily, "I thought so too." I lean back in my chair and cross my legs and my arms. "Mmm, did you ever tour?" I ask, remembering me urging him to do so but he always shot me down.

"Much to my dismay, I did." He nods, "My management said it was 'good for business.' And they somehow snuck a clause for at least one tour into my contract."

"Where did you go?" I quickly ask, curious.

"Mainly major cities all over the world." He answer me with an amused smile, "It took nearly 2 years to complete and my wife wasn't all that happy about it. Even when I told her she could come along with me but she was determined to stay and work her job." Woozi chuckles and I wrap myself with the comfort that he found someone who matched well with him. "She was so strong headed. Reminded me of another I loved." He looks to me and raises an eyebrow in suspicion, "She looked an awful like you."

I push his face away with a laugh, "Oh, stop it."

Woozi lets out a very airy chuckle, "Are you going to make me?"

I pout angrily at him, "I won't if you keep talking."

"About what?" He sighs as he's at a loss for stories that I want to hear.

"Anything." I groan.

"Everything." We simultaneously say, only he's deadpanning and I'm curious.

Woozi inhales, "Would you like to hear about the time I almost ruined a performance in Paris?"

My eyes widen, partly because of worry and partly because of interest, and I nod my head a little too eagerly.

"Of course you would." He shakes his head in believing disbelief. Then he tells the tale of how he had come down with terrible allergies in Paris and was sneezing terribly through the entire performance.

From Paris, the stories traveled to the cities he toured. Most good and funny memories but there were a few that weren't as cheery. Like in Moscow how he was almost arrested because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or in Australia when he woke up with 5 lizards in his bed. Though, while Woozi found it very traumatizing, I found it absolutely hilarious.

After his story stories were told, he dove deeper into his life as a father to Sunny and Yuna. The days when he'd be home early enough to surprise the girls before bedtime. The nights when they would wait up for him because he 'was the better story teller.' The times when he would be stuck on a melody and his girls would intuitively somehow know that and come running into his home office. All the firsts in their lives that he got to experience. And all the lasts that he missed: high school graduation, college graduation, etc. But even through all that, he reminisced on how his girls never faulted him for any of it. Because they understood his talent.

And so did the world. He got so much recognition for his work and yet, it never seemed like enough to me. I always thought he deserved more recognition when he was living. But like all things, the recognition came after he died.

Just like the soft ending of an orchestral ballad, the sun softly nuzzles under the horizon and gently nudges us towards our end.

I lean my head on Woozi's shoulder and sigh.

"Guess that means my time is up?" Woozi guesses and points to the last wisps of light peeking over the western horizon.

I nod but stay silent.

He smiles and grabs my hand in comfort. "I'm sure the time apart will fly by in a blink of an eye."

"It didn't last time." I mumble, turning my hand over to properly hold his.

"This time it will. I can feel it." He whispers and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. "Come on now. The Great Jihoon can't be late for his last appearance in this world." He pats my hand against my thigh a couple times.

I lift my head off his shoulder and stand up with him.

"Which one bloomed for me?" He asks, nodding towards the white chrysanthemums.

Lifting my free hand, I point to the one on the far right. "That one."

"And what will happen to it once I leave?" Woozi continues to ask but he starts to lead me out of the garden.

"Do you want to know?" I ask, worried that it won't be up to his expectations.

He nods, "I want to know."

I exhale and say, "It'll wither and disappear."

"Oh." Woozi says softly.

"It's nothing special." I lower my gaze in embarrassment and release my hand from his. "The chrysanthemums are just there to remind me of the loves I have to wait for." I raise my head and find we've almost reached the lobby. "But the withering of one means that another is to come and that I'm one love closer to being free."

"I'll hold onto that last part and not think about the rest." Woozi says and our footsteps echo through the quiet and empty lobby.

Now it's my turn to lead our directions and Woozi grabs my hand again for comfort. We stay silent as we approach the departures door and my heart thunders against my chest. Opening the door, Woozi lets me pass through first with a small gesture.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands stoic next to a running car, its red back lights like red eyes watching our every move.

"Do you think Sunny and Yuna are over there?" Woozi asks as we walk closer.

I look over at him and his eyes are filled with calm, genuine wonder. "Yuna will be there. I haven't seen Sunny pass through my hotel yet." I tell him honestly.

"And how many lives did Yuna have when she passed over?" He continues to question.

"She lived 8 lives." I inform him.

He looks straight ahead and straightens his shoulders in preparation to leave this world. "And Sunny?" He asks.

"When she was born as your child, she was on her 4th life and she had 6 more to go." I say and my hand remembers how lightly Sunny rested her hand in mine after she passed away in the human world.

Woozi nods and pats a hand over his heart. "Good."

We stop a few steps away from the car and Shin opens the car door for Woozi.

"Hey," Woozi pulls my hand so I'm turned towards him, "I remember that bit." He says quietly.

He raises my hand, palm up, then uses the other hand to drum his fingers against my palm. My eyes watch his fingers as they move against my skin.

Da, da-dum, da-dum-dum, da, da, da-dum.

My eyes look up to his which are studying my face for a reaction.

I smile softly, "That was the one." I remember the small rhythm from hours earlier.

"Don't forget it." Woozi instructs and points a finger at me.

I shake my head, "Never."

He smiles before capturing my face in his hands and bringing my lips to meet his in a deep kiss. I lean further in, not wanting to let go. But the nightly breeze that wraps around us directs us apart.

"I love you, (y/n)." Woozi whispers.

"I love you, Woozi." I say, just as quiet.

After one last kiss pressed against my forehead, Woozi pulls away and walks towards the car. He ducks into the car and Shin closes the door behind him. The car's brake lights brighten for a second before dimming and the car moves forward into the forest fog.

"What did he press into your hand?" Shin asks, walking up to me.

My eyes don't leave the fog but my hands reach for Shin's hands. Without breaking my gaze, I drum the melody against Shin's palm.

Da, da-dum, da-dum-dum, da, da, da-dum.

I let my hand hover over his palm for a second before letting go of his hands.

There is a heart beat of silence before Shin says, "Beautiful."

And back in my garden, the chrysanthemum sitting farthest to the right side withers away.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

Woozi slides his hands down his thighs and exhales. "This is your last time doing this."

"What? Going to the forest?" I look over at him in confusion.

"Sending people off." He restates.

"But this time I get to leave too." I say and stand up, "Which makes it a last and a first."

Woozi stands up in front of me, "Then we should get this last-first show going."

I giggle at him and nod.

We walk hand in hand to the lobby where Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise."

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, "You will. But thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Woozi grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Woozi and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opting to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Woozi softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Woozi securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen woozi #seventeen woozi imagine #woozi imagine #woozi #seventeen jihoon #seventeen jihoon imagine #jihoon imagine #lee jihoon imagine #lee jihoon #writer-k-pop #waning crescent hotel

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inber · 4 years

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A/N: @punk--kenobi found these pants. @beastlyart said that 'feejays' would evaporate anyone's libido with a raygun. Anyway, I won't get into the concept of a FJJ (feejay job); just some backstory to this silly fluff drabble.

"...so that's another reason. How many reasons is that, now?" Jaskier wondered.

"Seventeen." Geralt said, despite the fact that he had been resolutely pretending to ignore the verbose bard. He continued to rustle about in his pack.

"Right you are! Seventeen reasons Valdo Marx is, in fact, a doppler masquerading in the skin of a human--"

"I'm not killing Valdo Marx because he stole part of your ditty." Geralt said, tugging a package free from the bag.

"My-- dear witcher, 'A Siren Swan Song' is not a ditty, it's an epic ballad about the last moments of a masquerading monster conquered by your might, thank you very much." Jaskier sniffed. "It's quite popular with the ladies."

"Odd, really," Geralt said, shaking the cloth free from the paper, "Considering I speared that siren through the head and you whined about brains on your trousers for the remainder of the day."

"Yes, well, obviously I omit that particular part. Poetic licence, Geralt. If I spun the tales as you tell them, we'd not have this lovely room, nor dinner in our b-- what in the seven hells are you wearing?" Jaskier's voice squeaked high.

Geralt glanced down at his new sleep trousers. "You're always complaining about my cold feet when we share a bed."

Jaskier made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort, bending over from the edge of the bed where he had been perched to inspect the offending garment. "Good Gods my darling witcher, not at the expense of my reputation," and as an afterthought, "Or your stoic dignity!"

Wiggling his toes, Geralt shrugged huge shoulders. "What's wrong with them?"

"What's wr-- Geralt! Do you ever wish to get that lovely cock of yours wet again in your lifetime?!"

Geralt's eyes flashed. "You think my cock is lovely, do you?"

Jaskier flushed a brilliant red. "Oh, stop. All of you is magnificent. You know that."

The witcher grinned, all porcelain pointed teeth. "You said lovely, though."

"I say a lot of things!"

"You do." Geralt agreed, tumbling onto the mattress. He snared Jaskier by the waist, pulling him down. The bard made a cursory show of flailing and protesting as Geralt curled around him snake-like, leeching his warmth.

"Can't believe out of all the things I do say, this is the matter you choose to act upon." Jaskier sulked, as Geralt pulled the blankets over them.

Laughter buzzed at the bard's back, before he felt Geralt's nose at the nape of his neck, snuffling. Jaskier's clean scent was like a sleep-balm. "Shut up, Julek." Geralt instructed, fondly.

And he did -- not just because Geralt had used such a loving, secret nickname. Jaskier felt the fabric of the ridiculous pants brush his calves, and smiled. No more cold feet.

#the witcher fandom #witcher headcanon #headcanon #feejays #geraskier #fluff #drabble #fortune writes #witchernonsense

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dailylivrodrigo · 3 years

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guys omg what’s your favorite lyric from each song on SOUR?? ill go first!!

brutal: im so sick of seventeen, where’s my fucking teenage dream?

traitor: god i wish that you had thought this thru before i went and fell in love with u

drivers license: uhm do i need to explain?? the whole bridge

i sf, 3 sb: never doubted myself so much, like im o pretty, im not fun boy

deja vu: STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM IN MALIBU, DONT ACT LIKE WR DIDNT DO THAT SHIT TOO.

good 4 u: LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH.

enough for you: tried so hard to be everything that you like, just for u to say you’re not the compliment type.

happier: do u tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean.

jealousy, jealousy: THE WHOLE FUCKIJG BRIDGE

favorite crime: THE WHOLE BRIDGE AS WELL

hope ur ok: OKAY THE WHOLE BRIDGE TOO LIKE ITS ALL SO GOOD EHAT???

#olivia rodrigo #sour #tuserasto #dailylivrodrigo

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

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High Expectations - Ch4

This time the chapter art had me digging out the pencils. Sorry Gordy - you’re looking a bit old and tired rather than the youthful Olympian I envisaged.

Also, more thanks to @willow-salix who helped me try and improve both wonky writing and wonky chins.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three

Chapter Four

The call connected but brought not the cheery tones of a brother but the now overly-familiar sound of yet another voicemail request to leave a message after the tone. The last few days had been a litany of missed calls and crossed text messages. Whenever he had a break between training and physio appointments the family seemed to be watching another event with phones off. Whenever he returned from a gym or pool session there would be another blinking icon waiting for him. Another failed attempt at contact.

It was great seeing the messages wishing him good luck followed by messages offering congratulations as he cleared his heat but it would have been nice to speak to his family in person. Everyone else on the squad seemed to be able to schedule video calls with loved ones. You would have thought that with such a large family he would have struck lucky at some point.

Gordon scrolled through the call history. Alan. Scott. Virgil. Even John, the least sociable of his siblings and apparently with an allergy to small-talk, had made two attempts to reach him over the last few days. And there, right at the bottom, one single attempt from his father to make contact shortly after his initial heat. He wondered how the call would have gone. Would he have received congratulations for making it to the final or would he have had to justify his second place finish? It was too late to speculate now. His coach was rapping impatiently on the door; it was time to head to the pool for the race of his life.

The changing area was filled with the incomprehensible babble of a multitude of languages. Old rivals sat alongside new upstarts. Gordon plugged in his earphones in an attempt to drown out the sound and get into the zone. He had been competing for long enough to know what worked for him; even his coach knew better than to try and intrude at this point. The familiar playlist hammered into his head as he leant back against the cool tiles. Eyes closed. Breathing regulated by the sound of the beat. He waited to be called through for his race.

The playlist wasn’t working. He wasn’t normally prone to nerves but this was the big one, the race everyone had been talking about. From the early whispers as a kid on the junior circuit through to actual squad selection the word ‘Olympics’ had never been far away. This was the dream. This would be his defining moment. It was as if none of his other achievements mattered. This was what he had been training for all these years. Everything else was just a warm up.

He checked his phone one last time. Nothing new. Of course there wasn’t, everyone would be up on the balcony already but it gave his hands something to do. Every muscle felt jittery. The announcement that it was time to go pool side had him bouncing up as though the starting gun itself had gone off.

xoxoxox

Alan practically hung over the balcony rail, straining to see the far end of the pool where the competitors would be making their entrance near the starting blocks.

A heavy hand on his shoulder pulled him back and stopped him leaning out too far.

“Steady there. He’ll be out soon enough. Don’t want you going into the water.”

Alan huffed at Scott but complied, sitting heavily back in his seat, eyes roving to the big screen that was showing a shot of the top end of the pool. It was difficult to be patient when his brother would soon be competing in an Olympic final. For most of the spectators it was just another race in the session but for the Tracys it was personal.

It wasn’t just Alan that fidgeted with impatience though, there was an air of barely repressed excitement running through the family group, the atmosphere in the venue just served to increase the tension. This was a big medals day in the pool and Team USA had already added a gold and two bronze to their total haul. The swimming squad was representing their country well and showing that USA was a sporting force to be reckoned with.

A cheer rippled through the venue as the athletes entered. A kaleidoscope of tracksuits parodying the flags and emblems of their nations appeared at the top end of the pool. The yellow and green of Australia shone out amongst the variants of red, white and blue worn by the representatives of USA, Russia and France. Eights athletes filed in to take their place on the seat behind their block. Eight bodies jiggled legs and stretched out arms and shoulders. Take a drink. Adjust goggles. An array of displacement activities and rituals as each competitor did what was needed to mentally prepare themselves for the task ahead.

At a signal from the officials eight figures stood and disrobed, exposing honed muscles and expanded shoulders. Gordon, placed in lane six after his narrow inclusion in the final, bounced on the balls of his feet. Slightly shorter than the average swimmer in the line up he was dwarfed by the Norwegian in lane five, his neighbour in the pool towered a good eight inches above the young American.

There was no holding Alan back now and even his more self-controlled family were leaning forward against the railing to get a better view than that already offered by their front row seats. Eyes were fixed on the distant figure fifty meters away at the far end of the pool.

Giving a start of realisation and guilt that he had almost forgotten Alan dug into his backpack, pulling out the banner he had cajoled Virgil into painting. He shoved the two ends into the hands of Scott and John who proceeded to tie it to the balcony so it could be seen hanging down from the guard rail. It was impossible to read the expressions of the swimmers from this distance but Alan swore he could see Gordon turn and smile in their direction. Whether this was true or not the others couldn’t tell but their squid certainly seemed to gain an air of calm after the banner was unfurled.

A further signal from the officials had the competitors stepping up on to their blocks. Silence descended over the crowd.

Poised.

Taut.

Ready.

The starting gun had eight figures launching into the water with enviable grace and speed.

Stroke. Glide. Breathe. Repeat. Each competitor found their rhythm and gave the performance of their life.

Ordinarily the pack would form a V shape. An arrowhead through the water as those that had won their heats were graced with the more desirable centre lanes.

Today was no ordinary day.

Today was the day Gordon Tracy dredged into reserves he barely knew he had. Start strong, stay strong, end strong. There was no let up in his pace and determination. Focus and rhythm aligned. The arrowhead was broken. Soon the commentary was focussed on lane six and the seventeen year old competing in his first Olympics.

Cheers erupted from the Tracy section as the swimmers reached the final board and triggered the timing pads. From their seats aligned with the end of the pool they were in the perfect position to see Gordon hit home in first place.

For the swimmers in the water the rankings were less clear cut. Without the benefit of a grandstand view eight sets of eyes were focussed on the board awaiting the final results. Moments stretched into eternity as they waited for the official times.

1 USA GORDON TRACY 1:44.20 WR

There, on the first line of the board was the confirmation of not only his success but an achievement surpassing all hopes. A world record.

The family watched as down in the water Gordon shook hands over the lane dividers with the swimmers to left and right. He was a sportsman to the core and he congratulated those who had provided stiff competition. Only then did he turn and wave to the balcony, acknowledging the family that had supported him through years of training then followed him to the opposite end of the Earth to witness his crowning glory. The cameras tracked between the Tracy in the pool and the Tracys in the stand, capturing their moment of shared joy for eternity.

xoxoxox

The fluttering feeling in his stomach was off-putting to say the least and probably wasn’t helped by the two celery crunch bars and a glucose tablet he had inhaled after getting out the water, he knew they were needed after his intense energy usage though. The last time he’d tried to skip the obligatory post-race refuel he had nearly taken a header off the podium as his blood sugars crashed. He wondered if throwing up on an official was more embarrassing than fainting on them.

The call to head out to the podium soon put a stop to the nerves as he was ushered back pool-side between the other two medallists. This time there was no escaping the fact that all eyes were on him but there was no performance required; the joy spread across his face was pure and true. This was the culmination of years of early morning training sessions. Gym, yoga, vitamins, nutrition schedules. Every missed party. Every rejected invitation to go bowling. The sacrifices he had made had come together to create one perfect moment.

The medal, the anthem, the flowers; everything played out as he had imagined. The flash of a thousand camera bulbs only partly responsible for the tears in his eyes.

His dream.

Complete.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #Gordon Tracy #olympic final #my art

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