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lizzybeth1986 · 1 year

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Coffee-Brown Eyes

Book: Perfect Match

Pairing: Sloane Washington x Hawthorne Park (black m!MC), Sloane Washington x Alana Kusuma (briefly).

Rating: PG

Summary: A small drabble about Sloane's struggle to look people in the eye.

Word Count: 886 words

Note: My HC for Sloane has always been that she is autistic, and one of the things some autistic people struggle a lot with is eye contact. So this is an exploration of Sloane in that context. The quote in my moodboard for this comes from writer and artist Judy Endow (Here's an article she wrote on Autism and Eye contact, along with her artwork on the same! I highly recommend reading it!)

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

(Faceclaims:

Hawthorne Park - Daniel Kaluuya

Sloane Washington - Nelly Muse)

"Coffee?"

Their fingers brush as the cup passes from his hands to hers; Sloane allows her touch to linger a second longer on Hawthorne's knuckles. From underneath her lashes, she steals a moment's glance into the laughing warmth of his eyes.

She doesn't notice how fleeting that one look is - she never will - but he does. They've been together long enough for her to feel as comfortable with his touch as she would her own, yet the one thing that remains a constant is the persistent wandering of her eyes.

Sloane sips the brew in front of her with her eyes closed. Black, no sugar. Nothing to mask its sharp, invigorating bitterness. Sloane likes her coffee the way she likes her chocolate, the way she likes Hawthorne's eyes. Dark, sharp, shining. Deeply overwhelming.

She peers in Hawthorne's direction again. He isn't looking, thank God, but she can still see his face from this vantage point. She can still see his eyes. A tiny thrill shimmies its way through her spine.

It's so much easier like this. Eyes are fascinating things to look at, really. All those colours, all the myriad changes in hue when the lighting or mood was slightly different. When she was a child she would stare, enthralled, at pools of limpid blue and sea green, searching for shades she knows she would never find in a mirror. But now she's older, now it's darker colours that hold her attention.

She loves looking into people's eyes.

But only when they aren't looking back.

Not that Sloane had been aware of this trait of hers, not until the last few years. She'd spent almost all her teen years and half her adult life not even thinking about whether she looked at people differently from everyone else.

It's one of the first things I noticed about you, Damien would tell her one night in Indonesia, staring listlessly at a campfire. And it made me wary. Most of the time you'd never look anyone in the eye. Made me wonder what you were hiding.

A corner of Sloane's mouth quirks up a little. She did have plenty to hide when she first met them all, that was true. As for the rest...clearly Damien knows by now that she could be spitting truths while having the same restless, roaming gaze.

Of late she's begun to notice the same restlessness in Zinnia's too. Limpid and sky-blue, they widen and constantly seem in search of something. Sloane has often wondered if, subconsciously, she'd had something to do with that. Could she have passed on a trait she hadn't even noticed in herself, to the Match she helped create?

"Probably," Alana whispered against her curls last night, her curves moulded against Sloane's own, her fingers tracing lazy patterns of fire across her stomach. "When you do try to look someone in the eye, you're painfully obvious about it. And I do mean painful, beb. Because you look like you're in literal pain when you have to do it for that long. Zinnia has that look too."

Sloane was surprised enough to stare at her girlfriend, long enough that she could feel the aching strain at the corners of her eyes, images like whitened nerve-endings dancing around her field of vision.

Alana smiled, her deep brown eyes glistening. In this light, they seemed to possess the texture of velvet. "Twenty seconds."

"What?" The tip of Sloane's tongue nervously touched her bottom lip, forcing Alana's gaze from her eyes to her mouth.

"The longest you've looked into my eyes," she let out a throaty laugh, covering Sloane's lips with her own....

"Earth to Sloane," Hawthorne's deep, rumbling voice takes her out of her reverie. "Drink up, honey, or your coffee will go cold."

Sloane's smile is heart-stoppingly sweet, Hawthorne thinks - especially with how she holds the mug so close to her and casually shrugs her shoulders. "Imagine that, our very own homemade cold brew."

Hawthorne silently raises his own mug, his hand gripping the windowsill. The sunlight streams in from the window, bathing his face - his eyes! - in light.

In the shadows, his eyes are dark, almost black. They're already the colour of the deepest, sharpest coffee. You could almost fool yourself into believing such eyes were incapable of changing colour, of possessing an entire bouquet of hues and shades. Lord knows she'd believed that enough in front of the mirror as a child.

In sunlight they're twin pools of honey, she can almost imagine that colour flowing in thick, cascading waves. In sunlight they're the colour of tiger eye gems - glowing golden. Under her eyelashes, Sloane stares shamelessly, breathlessly, hoping against hope Hawthorne will take at least a little longer to look back. This sight is too beautiful for her to turn her eyes away from now.

Unbeknownst to her, Hawthorne stifles a smile. He has long since trained his eyes to shift their gaze away a little longer. Long since learned to resist the temptation of letting her know he's watching her watching him. Long since allowed his eyes to be the ecstatic twin objects of her admiring gaze, rather than enthusiastic participant.

It's a tiny, worthy sacrifice, for that look of pure pleasure it brings in her own eyes.

Sloane grins as she looks away. Hawthorne's own coffee must be cold now but she suspects he won't care.

Hawthorne grins as he turns towards her. One minute twenty seven seconds.

* Beb - Indonesian for "babe".

#sloane washington #perfect match #sloane x mc #sloane x alana #alana kusuma #sloanewashingtonappreciationweek #SWAW #SWAW Day 3 #SWAW Day 3: Romance #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 10

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Mild smut in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Tony fluff, Tony snark, Tony sass and Tony smut (finally!). My & reader's brain be like: tony tony tony tony. A request for my readers: do I write a believeable tony? Is he in character, more or less?

My beta @miscmarvelwritings - she's not into Tony but even then, she was finally excited about them finally getting down & dirty. The patience of this woman...

"Tony, could I borrow, like, a hoodie or something?"

He eyed my attire critically for a moment, seemingly coming to the same conclusion I did minutes earlier, and made a beeline for the couch in the back of the lab. Picking up and examining a black mass of fabric, deeming it satisfactory, he tossed it to me. "It's clean enough, I guess."

The thin straps of my mesh top rubbed against a lot of tender skin, leaving pink lines in the wake of it. A sigh of relief escaped me involuntarily when I removed it -

"Woah, woah," Tony squeaked, covering his eyes with an exaggerated gesture. "Warn a man!"

I honestly didn't see what the big deal was. "Tony, chill. I'm pretty sure you've seen it all and then some." I snorted, stretching briefly, shrugging on the slightly oversized hoodie. It smelled like the lab - like Tony, too, but mostly like motor oil and iron. Beggars can't be choosers, however - I had already devised and executed the plan that will let me keep the hoodie.

"When you put it that way..." He smirked, briefly returning to his usual self and giving me a salacious eyebrow wiggle.

I laughed in response, wiggling my hips, feeling the hem of my skirt swish against my thighs. I considered removing the fishnet tights, too, but a brief look in the reflective wall divide between Tony's and Bruce's labs got me pulling out my phone to take two dozen selfies. I looked great with Tony's clothes on.

The engineer chuckled at my antics, coming up behind me as I sat on the floor with my knee raised, chin resting on it. The amber liquid sloshed over the top of his glass, dripping down his fingers. He sat behind me.

"Weller Full Bourbon?" I asked, bringing my nose closer to his fingers to get a good whiff. The distinctive vanilla notes in his whiskey were unmistakable. "Good choice," I made a serious face. "Fancy."

"I can afford it, darling," He snarked back, devoid of malice.

He was so close. And so warm. And I needed a new screensaver. Shuffling back, I reclined against Tony's chest, carefully wedging my head in the crook of his neck.

God help me.

I felt his breath hitch. The dark, magnetic pools of his eyes stared at me from our combined reflection. Tony's eyes were the most expressive, he could fake a smile, he could charm the press and countless investors, but his eyes only spoke the truth. Always. I loved working with Tony because his gaze would light up. It was akin to seeing a little kid on Christmas.

A muscular arm snaked around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. The metal of his arc reactor jabbed uncomfortably between my shoulder blades but there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

"You're filming, Princess," He interrupted my Moment.

"Sure," I answered, not caring. There could be another alien invasion happening and I wasn't able to give a damn.

I felt the vibrant chuckle more than heard; Tony snatched the phone out of my hand without permission. I noticed the furrowed brow when he opened my Instagram and saw the unmistakable evidence of my frequent partying, yet he didn't comment on it.

"Tony, the press is going to go nuts," I raised my eyebrows, seeing what he was planning to do.

"They've seen me doing worse things," He scoffed. And took a photo of us ‘just chilling’ in his lab, hugging. He picked out a filter and everything., and then posted it.

"First of all, I am pretty awesome to be 'doing', I've had only good feedback," I scoffed at his dismissive attitude, using my free hand to make quote marks. Then I turned my head to stare him square in the face. "Steve's going to be pissed and Ms. Potts is going to call to yell at you." I punctuated the statements with a raised eyebrow.

There was really no innocent way the press could represent the photo that he posted. I didn't care for it, my parents wouldn't give a damn (my father probably would encourage it, the free publicity and all). Tony himself didn't seem like the kind of man to care much about some gossip articles, if anything, he enjoyed provoking them into a frenzy. Or at least, he used to.

"I'll put them both on hold. I like to watch the line blink," Tony winked, smirking. "I've been told the press expects me to have a midlife crisis since my last breakup," Eyes darkening, the man swiftly finished off his drink.

Midlife crisis seemed such a bitter way of putting it. Considering my own preferences in romantic partners, I couldn't help but feel offended at the way people offhandedly dished out labels - "midlife crisis", "daddy issues" and so on and so forth. The briefest part of me traveled back to Mr. Davies' living room where - no, I am not going there.

"Huh," I said, coming to a conclusion. A sad one at that.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who thinks about pesky things like reputation or consequences," Tony mused idly, coming to a conclusion of his own.

"Nope, I don't give a fuck," I agreed with his opinion wholeheartedly. "If I would have a publicist, they would quit on the second day."

"I pay mine, uh, twice the average amount and they still quit. We're doomed, baby," Tony's gleeful face was mere inches away from my own, whiskey-tipsy and glowing.

I snorted, sliding lower to further burrow into his arms. Tony's sudden touchy-feely mode wasn't lost on me. My own touch starvation overrode any common sense that I had left. The totally-PG (well, not quite) embrace, one armed hug brought me more satisfaction than any of my sexual partners had ever achieved to give me.

"Why are there so many messages from Banner? Are you staging a world domination plan and forgot to include me? I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, a whiny tone to his voice.

"Thor's space yeasts have corrupted our minds with their spores. Soon all will become... Mushroom!" I deepened my voice for the dramatic effect, flailing my arms on the last word for the extra flair.

The man wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye; his eyes were sparkling, laughing even. "I'm evicting Thor and his supremely selfish yeast. How dare it ignore me."

"I vouched for you, I really did," I kept up the silly game. "But alas, the yeasts deemed you too... Boomer," The pride in my voice could barely hold back the laughter threatening to spill.

"Did you just..?" Tony gaped. "Did you just call me old?!"

I attempted to get away, shrieking when the tips of Tony's fingers squirmed along my midsection. "It was the yeast! IT WAS THE YEAST!" My resistance proved to be futile. The engineer had mass and strength on his side, years of piloting and maneuvering the Iron Man suits showing just how quick and nimble he could be when the situation demanded it.

"Take that from an old man!" He exclaimed triumphantly, using his arm to hold down both of my hands from grasping at him. One of his legs held down my own; we were a squirming, writhing mass of limbs in the heat of a tickle fight.

The cocaine in my blood, the mild buzz from being drunk on Tony - my body reacted to the close proximity of the man who occupied my fantasies. I was blushing, breathing heavily, and it wasn't just from the exertion. It should have affected me less, but I struggled to keep my eyes from Tony's face; his own flush, the moist part of his lips.

I wondered how a deer in the headlights felt. Was it hot, like it's body was suddenly alight, or was it cold, liquid nitrogen freezing in its veins?

"Fuck," I mumbled half-coherently.

"What was that?" He arched an eyebrow, clever eyes carefully watching my own.

"I'm in trouble," I chuckled weakly, looking away, pretending to struggle against his arms.

"You're trouble," He announced, grinning. His fingertips slowed, skimming gently along my sides now.

I retaliated with a tentative brush of my foot along the softness of his jean-covered inner thigh. It was euphoric, seeing Tony shudder, the thick eyelashes fluttering for the briefest part of a second.

"We should stop," He whispered suddenly, making a move to disentangle us both. Mixed signals, we've got em, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why?" I was tired of this dance. It was fun but painful. My firm decision of the past still stood: I won't be the lovesick fangirl, I won't be another notch in his bedpost. The resolve was crumbling but it was still there, to some point.

"You're not sober, this is wrong," He mumbled. "I'm more than twice your age, Princess."

That ship had sailed, Tony. If only you knew... "Do you seriously expect me, out of all people, to find common ground with someone my age? Someone like Peter? Jeez," I tried to be amused. If it came out more pleading, I pretended to not notice it. It was the moment of truth. It needed to be said. "I'm FUBAR, Tony. I'm lucky if anyone at all will want to put up with me, much less someone I can stand. I'm spoiled, I'm selfish, and annoying. I know that. I just thought we were friends and you'd be...kinder about it." My mumbling was met with a somewhat perplexed stare.

"I..." His eyebrows threatened to have a close encounter with his hairline. "What the fuck? Are you dead set on giving me a stroke today? I have a heart condition," He yanked me back towards his chest, unceremonious and indignant. "You can be so smart yet so stupid. Gosh, where is the world rolling, I'm quoting Pepper now." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Pot, kettle." I didn't resist the urge to snark.

"Right," Tony rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful and all that jazz. You deserve much more than this." Uncharacteristically sad, he pointed to himself, again. "I'm an old man with more issues than Playboy magazine."

"And I'm an angsty teenager with daddy issues, we're a match made in heaven."

"Hell," Tony was eyeing our combined reflection with a sort of petulance. It was hard keeping track of his microexpressions; his eyes and face held fleeting, half-finished thoughts, just like when he was creating, inventing something new.

"Works for me. Lucifer's hot," I answered with my brain on autopilot. He caught my eyes in the shiny glass, trapping me in his calculative gaze.

"The Netflix one or the Supernatural one?" Tony asked, equally absent from the conversation. Neither of us were able to break eye contact, breathing laboured and hearts thudding in our chests. I felt Tony's pulse fluttering under my palm where I'd rested it on his wrist.

The organ that dutifully pumped blood through my own veins and kept me alive threatened to escape my body, jump out of my chest, make its way out my mouth. Tony's unblinking stare penetrated my skin, seeped into the hollow behind my eyelids, ignited a flame within me and froze my thoughts.

"The one with the detective kink," I answered breathily. "I have an affinity for brown-eyed, narcissistic, sarcastic men with self-destructive tendencies," The last part of my sentence was swallowed by Tony's lips.

My brain shorted out, just like that. Bourbon on his breath and a new dose of snark on his tongue, he licked into my mouth with the grace and finesse of years of experience. It was sudden, it was rough, it was fantastic. His beard left marks on my face and I craved the burn of it.

"Fuck," I moaned when we were forced to surface for oxygen. My hips had moved, pressed against his own, prominent arousal digging into the small of my back. Tony had me moaning and grinding into it in mere seconds.

A hand rested on my face with surprising tenderness, turning my face to look at my own reflection. My hair was a mess, lips puffy - Tony wasn't looking any better, hunger and lust in plain view. It was a good look on him.

"Watch," His breath ghosted over the shell of my ear, lips traveling to the nape of my neck to attach themselves to the very sensitive flesh of that area.

I obeyed, gazing at the scene with lidded eyes. Keeping them open was a struggle. My body was flooded with sensation, riding the waves of pleasure like a rollercoaster. I wanted to please him, needed to obey him, to feel him.

My thighs quivered at Tony's touch. There was no warning, no preamble as he wedged a firm hand, separating them quickly to follow the heat. His biceps flexed deliciously. Under my skirt, through the fishnets and the tiny, lacy panties I wore.

"Fucking shit," The man moaned loudly, finding me, predictably, soaking wet. It was one hot, sticky mess between my legs.

The keen that left my mouth might've been embarrassing, yet it only spurred Tony on. Gently parting my lower lips, he gathered the moisture, suddenly withdrawing from me. My confusion met his amusement in the mirror as he stuck the two fingers in his mouth, moaning obscenely and loudly at the taste.

The corners of my mouth lifted, happy. "To-ony," I whined, my pussy aching for more. Now that I had felt the relief and pleasure of his touch, I didn't want it to end.

"Princess," He replied, seriously and sternly. I shuddered at the scratchiness of his voice. The hand that I was missing returned, stroking over the outside of my pussy with broad, soft motions. I arched, presented myself into the touch. "So eager," Tony mumbled into my shoulder, catching a bit of my skin between his teeth.

His fingers dipped deeper, delving in between the puffy, engorged flesh and stroking once, twice, before finding my clit. The pads of Tony's fingers were rough, hardened by manual work and hours spent in front of his inventions, making, tinkering, creating. The friction was perfect. I followed each stroke with a fluid motion of my hips.

"Tony, fuck," I slurred my approval, needing him to know how amazing he made me feel. Tony's form pressed closer, both of us melting, molding into each other.

"Baby girl, what do you need?" His raspy voice tickled my neck. I was sure there would be an array of marks decorating me come morning and absolutely loved the thought. I belonged to Tony Stark, in body and heart and mind and soul.

"I want to cum," I had no shame left. "I want to feel you."

He groaned, rutting into me. A squeak was all I managed to emit as two thick fingers plunged inside of me with a wet squelch. My pussy immediately took hold of the situation, squeezing and rippling around them. I was so close, my nerves pulled up taut like an overtaxed string. The effect this man had on me was positively unholy.

My clit throbbed under his thumb. Tony somehow managed to reach every single sweet spot on my body, effortlessly, easily, like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Ohmyfuckinggod, Tony," I came hard, shuddering, drenching the fingers inside of me. The moment I began sagging in his arms was the moment they tightened around me; I felt Tony grind helplessly against me, saw his own eyes slam shut and his brow furrow.

The hand that was in me withdrew rapidly as he hastily popped the button on his pants, freeing his cock and giving it several desperate tugs. I couldn't see it; I had to settle for the sensation of his hand, his hips rubbing against my clothed back.

He came quickly, with a loud shout. My curiosity got the best of me and I used the brief moment of his weakness to turn around, take a good look at him.

Tony was a fucking mess with a fucking gorgeous cock. Thick and veiny.

My face was level with it before he could have opened his eyes. I wanted, craved to know how he tasted. With gentle kitten licks, I collected the stray drops of cum running down his hand, careful of the rapidly softening, sensitive flesh.

His eyes popped open in surprise. I smiled at him, unseeing, collecting as much of him as I could.

"Fuck, Princess," He breathed. "I'm just a man, I'm pushing fifty," Gently pulling my head away but holding it mere inches from his cock. Indecisive.

I reached over for his hand with my own, popping finger after finger in my mouth, collecting every drop of cum like it was nectar. I could be good...I If properly motivated. The salty musk was all the motivation I needed at that moment. He pulled me in for a filthy, sloppy kiss once I was done, both of us humming, vocalising the shared pleasure.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @as-i-layhereinyourbed @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney

As always, feedback is welcome and this blog is keyboard smash & emoji friendly.

#tony stark smut #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #bun writes #party favours #TONY NEVER SHUTS UP YO

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heavenlyhaechan · 3 years

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A Fateful Delay

Pairing: Jaehyun x Gn!Reader

Genre: friends to strangers to lovers au, fluff,

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, lots of dialogue

Rating: PG-13?

Note: Happy birthday nct aquarius boy 5/5! Forewarning I am an amateur tarot reader, so if it’s not entirely accurate *shrugs* Heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s I like me better cover video. (p.s. you’re a real one if you recognize the book quotes.)

Gate 26, gate 26, gate 26, you repeated in your head, not confident that your half awake mind wouldn’t forget. Heathrow airport was still quite empty at this hour, with only a few other stragglers hanging about. 6:00 am wasn’t exactly the most desirable time for a flight after all.

Here it is, you sighed in relief when you saw a crowd still waiting to board the early flight. You looked down to check that you had your boarding pass before looking up and suddenly being transported back to an older time.

“Jaehyun,” you said it without thinking, prompting him to look up from his phone and make eye contact with you. Recognition flashed across his face almost immediately, along with something else you couldn't quite place.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you reached him, setting your backpack down on the bench beside him.

“I’ve been studying here,” he said. “What about you?”

“Just traveling. I’ve been in Europe for,” you paused to count in your head. “A little over two months now.”

“Alone?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

He whistled. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s been an adventure, that’s for sure.”

You lapsed into silence, your mind still reeling with the fact that you had run into Jaehyun here of all places. And as coincidences like this didn’t happen very often, you quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you would probably never see him again.

Except…

“Flight 2491 from London Heathrow to Incheon International Airport has been delayed 18 hours,” a nasally voice announced over the speaker. Groans erupted all around you as they continued. “Boarding will commence at 12:00 am. If you have any questions or wish to board another flight please come to the front desk. Thank you and have a good day.”

Jaehyun sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

“Good thing I checked my bag,” he said as though he was trying to find a glimpse of good in the situation. You nodded emphatically.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You know what I need now?”

“What?”

“Coffee.”

——

Once you’d left the airport the two of you entered the first cafe you could find. Unlike Heathrow, this was it’s busiest time of the day. You looked around as you waited, observing the artwork and the office workers that came and went without a second glace in your direction. They must be used to tourists.

“Does this place have a bookstore?” you asked as you peered past the espresso machines. You repeated your question to the barista when you reached the front of the line, and learned that yes, there was a bookstore just down the hall.

“Lets go,” you said once you’d ordered.

“Now?”

“When else?”

“You go,” he said. “I’ll wait for our coffee.”

——

The bookstore was even quieter than the airport, with not a soul to be seen but your own. You ran your finger along the bookcases as you explored, the rough texture and musty scent of the books making you feel at home. Jaehyun found you sitting on the carpeted floor in the aisle between two bookcases, a stack of hardcovers next to you.

“Watcha doing?” he asked as he handed you your coffee and sat down next to you.

“Let me read you some of my favorite lines,” you said in place of an answer.

“Didn’t we read that in high school?” Jaehyun asked as you picked The Sun Also Rises from the top of the pile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Junior year.”

Eventually you found the page you were looking for and read the line: “I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.”

“Damn,” he sighed.

You nodded. “That’s why I decided to come here. To Europe I mean.”

You picked up the next book.

“Okay here’s another one. ‘Brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you go on even though you’re scared.’”

“How are you finding these so fast?” Jaehyun asked, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled.

“I’ve probably read them too many times,” you laughed along with him, ripping your eyes away from the ever endearing marks.

A minute later: “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

“Ouch.”

You laughed again, and he forced himself to smile with you.

“Okay last one. ‘That’s what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway. Don’t you believe in true love?’”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Believe in true love.”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

He sipped his coffee as he considered the question.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I just don’t think I’ll ever find it.”

You were taken aback by that. Jung Jaehyun had always been one of the most desirable people you knew, and from what you could tell the last six years had done nothing but make him even more so. But maybe that wasn’t what mattered.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” Jaehyun interrupted your thoughts.

“What? Love?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean yeah I guess so, but isn’t true love worth the fear?”

Jaehyun smiled again at that, nodding quietly as his gaze moved to focus on the floor between you. You weren’t sure if the nod meant yes, but it brought an end to the conversation anyway.

——

As the morning turned into midday the two of you found yourselves in a quieter part of town. The sky had begun to darken as you walked and it casted a looming shadow over the street, filling you with a strange sense of foreboding.

Soon enough raindrops began to fall, creating dark spots on the concrete beneath your feet. You ducked into the first shop you could find for shelter, not paying any attention to the signs posted outside. Thus you were surprised to see the crystal balls, tarot decks, and palm reading books laid out on the tables inside.

Incense filled the air, and midnight blue and royal purple drapes were hung along the walls, highlighted by shimmering golds and silvers. A woman stood at the counter wearing colors to match. Other than her the store was empty, which didn’t surprise you considering the fact that it was late morning on a Monday in February. Not exactly the height of tourist season.

“Welcome,” the woman said, her voice soft and silvery. “Are you looking for something in particular today?”

“Uh, no,” you looked back at Jaehyun.

“We were just escaping the rain,” he finished for you.

“Well then, perhaps you’d be interested in a reading?”

You felt bad for seeking refuge from the rain but not buying anything, so you agreed. You followed her to the back of the shop with Jaehyun close on your heels. An embroidered curtain was pushed to the side to reveal a small table with a few chairs scattered around it.

“Please take a seat,” she said as she pulled a deck of tarot cards from a drawer in the table. You and Jaehyun sat next to each other on the side closest to the curtain, and she sat across from you.

“So, I want you to think of a question,” she said as she began to shuffle the cards. “It could be about anything really, but please make sure that it’s clear and specific.”

You played with your hands where they rested in your lap, feeling quite put on the spot.

“Take your time,” she smiled at you.

Your mind came up with and then discarded a million questions as the seconds ticked by, but eventually you settled on one.

“Our uh, flight was delayed this morning,” you explained. “Do you, or do the cards think that it was delayed for a reason?”

“Hmm,” she nodded in understanding. First she split the deck in three, then put it back together as a whole in no obvious order, before finally beginning to place the cards on the table.

“Let’s see,” she pondered, looking down at the cards she’d laid out. First she pointed to the world and high priestess cards, both reversed on the table before you.“It looks as though you lack closure, likely because of some feelings that you’ve repressed or kept hidden.” Next she pointed to the hermit and the ace of swords. “But you are searching for the truth, which will soon lead to a breakthrough that will provide you with clarity.”

Now she pointed to the page of wands. “You have been exploring recently, or maybe you still are.” Next to the knight of wands and the knight of cups. “You are fearless right now, and are ready to follow your heart. This will lead to new beginnings,” the fool, “dreams come true,” the ten of cups, “and a unique and deep partnership,” the lovers.

“Taking all of this into consideration, I’d say that yes, it did happen for a reason,” she finished. And although you weren’t one to believe in the superstitious, when she looked up at you with a twinkle in her eye you had a feeling she knew something that you didn’t.

——

Your stomach grumbled as you left the store, which made you realize that you hadn’t actually had a proper meal all day. You hadn’t had time on your way to the airport that morning, and coffee didn’t exactly count as food.

Like he could read your mind Jaehyun pointed out a fish and chips place nearby. It was lunchtime, so the place was bustling. Nevertheless you were quickly escorted to a booth made of dark wood with faux leather seats. It had been placed near a window looking out on the street you had just left behind.

Music played through speakers, battling the rowdy conversation of your fellow diners. Your still complaining stomach prompted you to order without much consideration, confident that you were hungry enough to enjoy whatever you were served.

“Do you believe everything she said back there?” Jaehyun asked as you waited for your food, his nail tracing a crack in the table.

“Yeah?” you phrased it as a question, watching as the group next to you was served. “I mean I wouldn’t usually, but a lot of what she said rang true.”

You lapsed into silence again, and you noticed a newfound awkwardness filling the space between you. An awkwardness that had nothing to do with the time that had passed since you’d last seen each other. You couldn’t stand the feeling, and so no matter how out of character it was for you, you felt that you needed to disrupt it somehow. So you said the thing that had been dancing around in the back of your mind since you’d first laid eyes on Jaehyun that morning.

“I liked you in high school you know.”

“Oh. You did.” He tilted his head, the look in his eyes hard to decipher. It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway.

“Yeah well I mean everyone probably liked you at some point, but,” you bit your tongue, already regretting your words.

“So you liked me because everyone else did?”

“No! I liked you a lot more than everyone else did.”

You only registered the teasing lilt in his voice after you’d finished blurting out the confession, and you felt your whole body go hot as the smile dropped from his face. The pause felt like it lasted for centuries because of your embarrassment.

“Why?” he asked eventually.

“Why what?”

“Did you like me.”

“Um,” you fiddled with your paper napkin to focus your thoughts. You second guessed yourself yet again. Were you really going to spill your guts to him now, here, after all this time?

Fuck it. When else?

“It always seemed to me like you didn’t care what anyone else thought of you, but not in a high and mighty way, you just minded your own business. Everyone either wanted to be you, or be with you in high school, but you didn’t let it affect you. It never got to your head, and you were always equally kind to everyone no matter what.”

Your eyes didn’t leave your hands the entire time you talked. Your fingers shredded your napkin methodically, too embarrassed to even imagine looking him in the eye ever again.

“Plus, you’re not bad to look at,” you said with your last ounce of confidence, before descending back into silence.

Luckily you didn’t need to say anything else, as just then your server arrived with your food. You dug in despite your now roiling nerves, still too scared to look up. If you had, you would have seen the fond look in Jaehyun’s eyes, and the way his dimples couldn’t seem to be tamed.

——

After lunch you walked across the Thames, but were eventually forced to make way for two small children zipping by on their scooters, their faces both full of pure and unadulterated joy. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them go by, remembering when things had been that simple for you too.

“Do you want kids?”

You don’t know why you’d asked. Maybe it was something about the way his eyes had sparkled when he’d moved for them to pass by, or the small smile that still graced his face almost a minute later.

“Me?” he laughed a little after he said it, knowing full well that he was the only person around for you to ask. “I…yeah.”

You nodded, not particularly inclined to say anything more, but he went on anyway.

“Sometimes I think about like, having a house with a big yard, and a dog, and some kids, and just all the people I love with me,” he trailed off. “I guess it sounds kinda cliche to say it out loud.”

“A little,” you chuckled lightheartedly even as your heart leaped in your chest. “But I know what you mean.”

——

Soon enough you stumbled upon a covered market set up along the river selling everything from clothes, to records, to furniture. You wandered into the clothes section while Jaehyun browsed the rows of records.

Eventually you found a mirror and started trying on the most ridiculous accessories you could find. Jaehyun found you adorned with a lime sunhat, sparkling ruby red glasses, and a fluffy green absinthe scarf.

“Why does that kind of work?” he chuckled as he looked you up and down.

“Complementary colors,” you said simply, trying to ignore the way his eyes surveyed your figure. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were serious. They took you in like you were a statue in a museum, something to treat delicately and with reverence.

“I had an idea,” he said as you began to shed your layers of color and ludicrous.

“What kind of idea?”

“I thought maybe we could pick something from all of this,” he waved his arms around, gesturing to the market around you, “and buy it for each other.”

“Like a secret santa?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Meet back here in say, twenty minutes?”

“Sure.”

You set off in opposite directions, not wanting to spy on each other’s search and spoil your own present. Twenty minutes later you met back up where you’d started, before quickly deciding that you needed to find somewhere to sit while you shared what you’d bought. You chose a loveseat in the middle of the furniture section, it’s surface made of navy blue linen.

“You first,” Jaehyun said once he’d made himself comfortable next to you.

“Okay but fair warning, this is kind of dumb,” you said before pulling a white mug from behind your back. On its surface was painted a singular peach hued letter J.

“I just had to,” you laughed, relief filling you at the look of amusement on his face as he took it in his hands. “You can use it when you get that house you were talking about.”

His smile softened at that, and he looked up at you with a genuine look of gratitude. “I love it. Seriously. Is it weird how much I love it?”

You laughed again, your cheeks aching with delight.

“Okay my turn,” Jaehyun turned serious again as he leaned down to carefully tuck the cup into his bag. When he straightened up he had a record in his hands. Taking it from him you saw that it was the self titled Hozier album from 2014.

“I remembered that it was your favorite album in high school so I uh, yeah,” he trailed of as you looked back up at him, your eyes as big and sparkling as the full moon.

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Yeah well, maybe I liked you a little bit in high school too.”

Your stomach dropped at his words and you forced yourself to swallow back your surprise.

“Really?” you managed to get out, desperately searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But when he nodded you found nothing but nerves at his years awaited confession.

——

Eventually the two of you found yourselves in a sprawling garden backed by a row of old Victorian houses. Wide walkways created borders between garden beds full of both familiar and unrecognizable plants, the air full of their sweet scent.

You split off to wander on your own for a while before meeting back up at a bench near the back of the garden. Jaehyun presented you with a one of spring’s first daffodils when you reached him, and you bit down on your bottom lip hard as he tucked it behind your ear.

“I bet a lot of people get married here,” he mused a while later, arms propped up on the back of the bench.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

The foolish part of you let your mind imagine yourself having a wedding here. As your eyes traced the slope of his nose you wondered who would be in attendance, what food would be served, what you would be wearing.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen for us to run into each other this morning?” Jaehyun asked. “Like I never thought I’d ever see you again, and even if I did I thought it would be at a reunion or something.”

“And what if our flight hadn’t been delayed?” you considered. You knew what would’ve happened. You would have gotten on that plane without speaking another word to each other. Maybe a brief goodbye in Incheon, but that was certainly the very most. And then you would go your separate ways yet again, passing it off as an innocent coincidence.

“I’m glad it was,” he said as though, yet again, he could read your mind. Or maybe he was just thinking the same thing.

The sun was setting now and his face was lit up by its fiery glow. It turned his deep brown eyes gold and his cheeks rosy. His lips were parted the tiniest bit, like they were trying to grasp onto a word that he couldn’t quite remember.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like you,” his jaw clenched as he paused, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Like you could fall in love with me,” he finished finally.

“Maybe I already have.”

He ripped his eyes from the setting sun in favor of looking at you. The corners of his lips were down turned, and his eyes were set in shadow. You decided you liked them better this way, twin pools of warmth that you could fall into and stay in comfort forever.

“Would it be crazy if I kissed you right now?” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, your lungs not working quite the way they were supposed to. “But you should do it anyway.”

And so he leaned forward that left over inch, and your lips melded together like honey in the golden light of the sun as it sunk beneath the horizon.

——

As night fell upon the city you decided you needed something sweet to end your day. You ended up at a diner near the center of the city, with milkshakes and french fries set on the table between you. You dipped one into your shake and then huffed out a laugh as Jaehyun grimaced.

“It’s good!” you defended yourself. “At least try it before you judge me.”

“Fine.”

He reached forward and dipped a fry into his vanilla milkshake before popping it into his mouth. He considered carefully, eyes never once leaving yours.

“Okay I admit, it’s pretty good.”

You cried out victoriously before he’d even finished his sentence properly, pumping your fists in the air. It was Jaehyun’s turn to laugh now, the indent of his dimples enchanting you for the thousandth time that day.

“Do you think,” Jaehyun began, spinning the shiny silver spoon in his cup around in circles.

“Hm?”

“Are you…happy?”

You blinked. As an adult people would always ask you how your career was going, if you were married, or if you’d bought a house yet, as if life was some kind of grocery list where you had to check off each item in order for you to be complete. He was the first to ask if you were happy.

“I think so,” you leaned down and took another sip of your milkshake to give yourself a chance to think. “I’m not unhappy,” you decided after a moments thought.

“You know what makes me happy?” he asked next.

“What?”

“You.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. A thousand thoughts came to you, but none of them expressed quite what you were feeling. But maybe words weren’t what you needed right now.

You reached across the table, pushing your cups and fries out of the way until you could lean forward free of any obstructions. He met you halfway without you needing to do or say a thing.

This time he tasted sweet and salty, like adventure and familiarity all wrapped into one. Fireworks erupted behind your eyelids as you kissed, disrupting the calm darkness you usually found there. When you pulled away you became starkly aware of the countless eyes on you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The only eyes you cared about were the chocolate ones looking straight into yours.

As you sat back down you noticed the flower that had fallen from behind your ear and on to the table top. Jaehyun noticed it at the same time as you, and carefully he reached forward to pick it up and twirl it between his fingers absentmindedly.

“One of the classes I took while I was here,” he started. “It was just for fun, an extra credit course you know. And at some point we talked about the language of the flowers.”

You watched the flower spin, a yellow blur under the diner’s fluorescent lights. It was mesmerizing, or maybe you were just tired.

“Do you know what the daffodil’s meaning is?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Unequalled love.”

——

You reached gate 26 for the second time that day with nearly half an hour left until midnight. Some of your fellow voyagers sat around in groups, some by themselves. Some lay across the airport benches like cats trying to enjoy their midday nap. There were tired eyes everywhere you looked.

You, on the other hand, felt more awake than you had all day. None of it had felt real, passing more like a dream than real life. You had been tempted to pinch yourself several times that day, and now you finally decided to submit to the urge. You pushed back the sleeve covering your left arm and gave the skin underneath a quick pinch, if only to confirm that you were indeed corporeal.

You sucked in a short breath at the small tinge of pain, but then smiled at the ground at the confirmation that everything that had happened today was in fact real, and not just a figment of your overactive imagination. Jaehyun looked over at you with curious eyes at the small sound. You shook your head at the unspoken question, preferring to not indulge exactly how surreal all of this felt.

“What’s your seat number,” you asked instead.

“Uhhh,” Jaehyun rummaged around in his bag for a second before pulling out his boarding pass. “32F. How about you?”

“32G.”

You stared at each other for a second before Jaehyun burst out laughing.

“You’re telling me that our seats were next to each other this whole time?”

“I think so,” you looked down at your boarding pass once more before joining in on Jaehyun’s disbelieving laughter.

“Well would you look at that,” Jaehyun said, pulling your right hand into his lap and squeezing it gently. “I guess this really was fate.”

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sfb123 · 3 years

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Sapere Aude - Part 6

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,146

Notes: Not much to say, other than this is the big meeting you’ve been waiting for. There’s A LOT of information here. I hope it’s not too overwhelming!

As always, one love to my pre-readers @texaskitten30 & @txemrn. And thank you @twinkleallnight for my moodboard!

Tags: Tags seem to not work in the actual body of the fic, so I’m going to try tagging everyone in the comments, hopefully that works. If you want to be added or removed, just let me know!

As Riley entered the solarium, Eleanor rose from her seat. To say it was an awkward moment was an understatement. Yes, they had met the night before, but there had been so much going on in Riley’s mind that she wasn’t able to truly process the woman standing before her until that moment.

“Your majesty.” Eleanor bowed slightly.

“Forgive me, but I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to address you.” Riley was doing her best to stay guarded, even though she was screaming on the inside.

“Please, call me Eleanor, no need for formalities. We are family after all.”

Riley grimaced subtly at that. What does she know about family? Did she really just say that? Too soon, lady. Read the room. “Okay Eleanor. Please, call me Riley.”

“Riley, how are you feeling this morning? You’re recovering alright, I hope.”

“Considering the circumstances, I’m doing fine. Can I offer you something to eat or drink before we begin?”

Eleanor nodded. They both took a few moments to put together plates for themselves. Riley was certain anything she ate would immediately come back up, but she wasn’t going to let her nerves get the best of her. They sat there in silence for several long moments. Riley finally spoke up. “So, you’re in charge of the secret society that has been trying to take down my family. How’s that going for you?” There was a bite in her tone, despite her attempt to stay neutral and composed.

“Riley, please, I know how all of this may seem to you, but you haven’t been getting the entire story. There are very few people in the organization that have the full picture. I am one of those people, and I am here to fill you in on everything.”

“So fill me in. I’d love to know why you’re so hellbent on destroying the son you abandoned.” She crossed her arms over her chest. As hard as she tried to stay calm, the longer she sat there, starting at this woman, the more angry she got. Not for herself, for Liam. She was so protective over him, he was always worried about others, his kingdom, his friends, his family, he needed someone to worry about him. That was a burden she would gladly bear.

Eleanor sighed deeply. “Riley, I didn’t know what I was doing, or who I was when I joined the Via Imperii. I was a young girl with a crush on a boy. He told me about this group that would be able to show me the world.” She knew the similarities in their stories would get her attention. “Surely you understand what that feels like.”

“I might have heard a story like that once or twice.” Riley blushed and sunk a little lower in her chair.

Eleanor went on to explain that, unbeknownst to her, the boy that she followed into the group was actually sent specifically to recruit her into the Via Imperii. They were looking for a way to unite Auvernal and Cordonia, and they saw her as the way to do this. They would get her in power beside Constantine, and she could advocate for the unification of the two countries. There had even been a marriage alliance proposed at one point that would have promised Liam to Isabella and had him rule Auvernal by her side, with Leo taking over the Cordonian throne. Luckily, that failed spectacularly, and didn’t make it past the negotiation phase. The Via Imperii had chosen Eleanor because she seemed to most fit Constantine’s type, making it easy to catch his eye in his vulnerable state, considering his wife had recently abandoned him. Since she was not familiar with Cordonia, they made sure to pair her up with a native operative, to compensate and help her along the way. That is how she met Jackson Walker, her partner, and Constantine’s lead guardsman.

“Drake’s dad? Wait, if Jackson was working with you, does that mean that he’s not…he’s still...” She took a deep breath, trying to compose her thoughts, but her brain was moving too fast for her mouth to be able to keep up.

“No. Unfortunately, Jackson is no longer with us. After my extraction, Constantine became difficult, he stopped listening to everyone. Once influencing him no longer became an option, it was determined that the only path was to remove him from power entirely. Jackson expressed his doubts over the change. The Via Imperii decided that this made him a threat to the plan, so he needed to be eliminated.” There was a sadness in Eleanor’s voice that Riley wasn’t expecting.

“So the failed attempt on Constantine’s life…”

“Was not an attempt on Constantine at all, but a successful attempt on Jackson.” She closed her eyes, and bowed her head slightly. “It was so hard to see that happen to such a dear friend. And it broke my heart to watch Bianca and the children go through all of that pain. Especially Drake, it hit him exceptionally hard. But he and I both knew what this was when we signed on.”

“So there really is nothing stopping them from taking me away from Liam and Eleanor?” Riley’s eyes started to fill with tears. She was officially in over her head.

“Yes there is. Me.” Eleanor reached her hand across the table and placed it over Riley’s. “ I have caused my son enough pain for a lifetime. I won’t let him go through a hurt like that ever again.”

Riley jerked her hand back, sadness and fear quickly replaced with anger at the audacity of Eleanor trying to comfort her. “Why would you even care about the pain you caused him? Wasn’t he just part of the job? Another thing you signed on for?” This was the exact argument that she had talked Liam down from that first night that they discussed everything. At the time, Riley truly believed that his mother loved him, but all of this new information completely threw her for a loop. She didn’t know what to believe anymore, and she needed to stand up for her husband.

“When I married Constantine, it was part of the plan, yes. But in my time by his side, I truly grew to love him. He was a good man that only wanted the best for his country, and his family.”

“Yea, I’ve seen first hand what he was willing to do to make sure his country, and his family had ‘the best’.” She emphasized her sarcasm with air quotes.

“I know what Constantine did to you during Liam’s social season. My heart truly broke for you, and for Liam. The love you two have for each other was evident, even back then. Constantine wasn’t always like that, there was a time when he would have been thrilled for his son to find someone he cared for so greatly. Unfortunately, everything changed after my extraction.”

“Let’s talk about that extraction. Why did you just leave like that?”

Eleanor explained that after the marriage alliance with Auvernal fell through, Constantine started to doubt her loyalty to Cordonia, that she seemed to be putting the needs and wants of Auvernal ahead of those of the kingdom she ruled. The Via Imperii determined that, in order for the plan to move forward, they would need to pull Eleanor out. Because of her expansive knowledge of the inner workings of the monarchy, and Constantine himself, they agreed that she would still be a valuable asset, but she would be reassigned to work behind the scenes, providing them with intel to help them in their mission.

They had worked with Barthelemy through associates in the past, and they knew his desire to have more power in the kingdom, so they felt he would be the best choice to move the plan forward. In order to boost his ego, they led him to believe that he was truly killing the Queen.Through a series of undercover operatives, they ensured that no actual harm would be done. Despite Barthelemy bringing in an outsider, Godfrey, to assist him in the assassination, the plan went off without a hitch. The only problem was, after Eleanor’s ‘death’ Constantine was in a constant state of paranoia. Barthelemy was confident that nobody would be able to get to the king, and if the Via Imperii wanted any control in Cordonia, they would need to take over the throne.

Riley’s head was spinning. She didn’t know if the explanation made things better or worse. She understood now the mechanics of it, but she still couldn’t comprehend a mother abandoning her son. “But you just left Liam. Abandoned him. You knew what these people were doing, you knew what the plan was, how could you just leave your son in the middle of all of that?”

“Trust me, leaving my son behind was the hardest decision I have ever made. When I was assigned to my position as queen, my loyalty was to the Via Imperii. The second I became a mother, everything changed. My priority became my son. He took precedence over everything.”

“Then why did you leave him?” Riley’s voice was small, barely a whisper.

“It was the only way I could protect him. They wanted me out of there. At least if I went willingly, I could still be here to keep him safe.” Elenaor looked at her hands, which sat clasped on the table in front of her. “Leaving Liam will remain the greatest regret of my life, but it was all I could think to do in that moment to protect him.”

Riley’s eyes closed briefly, those words immediately brought her back to the balcony in Fydelia. That was practically word for word the reason he gave her for choosing Madeline at the Coronation. Boy, the Cordonian Ruby doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Eleanor looked up, a single tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes met Riley’s. “I made it my personal mission to make sure you joined the Via Imperii so that we could work together to keep Liam safe. They want him out, they are telling you that the plan has changed, but I know for a fact that it hasn’t. Liam has already proven to be one of the best rulers Cordonia has had in centuries. The two of you are exactly what this country needs, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone ruin that.”

There was a level of vulnerability in Eleanor’s eyes that Riley wasn't expecting. It was the look of a mother desperate to protect her child. The same look Riley had seen in the mirror when she was protecting her daughter from the countless threats that they had faced in her short life. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many obstacles and grey areas. As horrible as all of this was, in that moment, Riley truly believed Eleanor, she trusted her.

“So...what can I do? How can I help?”

“You and I will stay in touch, I will give you any information as I get it, so that you can stay one step ahead of them. For now, just keep your family close, and keep living your life as you normally would.”

Riley nodded. Part of her wanted to tell Eleanor that Liam knew what was going on, that she had told him everything, but she was afraid that would do more harm than good. She figured she’d wait, at least until she told Liam about her. While she did believe Eleanor was being sincere, she was going to let Liam take the lead on how this relationship progressed. She was grateful for her help, but that wasn’t going to cancel out all of the pain that she had caused Liam.

Eleanor stood from her seat. “I really should be getting back, but I’m so glad we had a chance to talk.” She extended her hand to Riley’s.

Riley was just about to shake her hand when she paused. “Wait, I have one more question.” She had just remembered a very important missing piece to the puzzle that was Eleanor’s death. “You were pregnant when you die...er, were extracted.”

“Right, of course. I found out I was pregnant about a month before the extraction. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell Constantine, which was probably for the best.” She looked down. “I had a son, he was raised in the Via Imperii, and is currently on assignment within the Palace.”

“Wait, so Liam has a younger brother, and he works in our home? He’s been in contact with his brother this whole time, and he doesn’t even know.” Riley felt that all too familiar sting behind her eyes again.

“Yes, we placed him in the King’s Guard so that he could also help in protecting your family. His name is Thomas.”

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara @gabesmommie1130 @cordoniaqueensworld

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years

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What’s in a Name?

A/N: This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. But it’s soft. Because Marcus Pike is soft and deserves all the love. Granted, I’ve only watched The Mentalist all the way through once, so...do with that what you will.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? I just want to be on the safe side. Idiots in love. Falling in love with someone and not knowing their name. Cliche use of a Quote from Romeo + Juliet.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to learn your name and the one time he actually does.

Pike was unlucky in love. He knew it. He had started to accept it when things fell apart with Lisbon. His friends and fellow agents, the assholes, actually took pity on him and said he’d find the right person eventually. He just didn’t anticipate having to meet her over and over again.

... that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet... (Romeo + Juliet)

Sometimes, every once in a while, he actually hated his job. Sure, he got to go undercover, stop criminals, right some wrongs, and be called ‘agent’ on top of it. But, right now, listening to some sycophant rant and rave about the “superiority of Cubism over Dadaism,” he wanted to switch careers. There was supposed to be a sale of a stolen Cézanne happening at this gallery in Los Angeles and Pike had suspected the guy with the too-tight three piece suit and bad transatlantic accent was the ring-leader of the whole theft and re-sale. He just needed to not spork his eyes out until he saw money pass hands from the agent he’d sent in to pose as the buyer and the thief-turned-art-asshole. He thought it would only take an hour or two, busts like this usually did—but this guy loved the sound of his own voice so much that he had been going on a tangent about 20th century art movements for nearly four hours now and had somehow gathered a bit of an audience, too, debating with others, and the like. It was exhausting just listening to him.

“If you give me ten dollars, I’ll spill some red wine on his shirt and he’ll be forced to leave.”

Marcus looked to the left at the sudden voice and found a woman pretending to look at the piece in front of him, just like he had been doing. She was pretty, dressed in a high-end dress and sky-high, red-bottom heels, and looked every bit the part of an old money socialite. “Ten dollars?”

“I’d do it for free, but I need to receive some sort of incentive so I’m not just doing it out of spite. I heard that’s bad karma.” She hid her smirk behind the lip of her champagne flute.

“I’ve heard spite is a fantastic motivator.”

She hummed and squinted at the painting as if she cared. Maybe she did. “This is an awful piece of work. Truly, one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

The man behind them continued to talk just as a waiter passed by with a platter full of red wine and she skillfully plucked one from him without missing a beat. She finished her champagne and handed Pike her empty flute. His eyebrows raised as she smiled at him.

“I’m Marcus.” He held out a hand for her to take. She shook it with a smile but didn’t give her name in return. She winked and walked away—right toward the mark.

And yes, she dumped red wine all over him.

There was a collective gasp and he watched the scene with a muted sort of fascination as she then managed to make the art thief smile with some joke she must have said and then he walked away to clean up. The crowd dispersed. The other agent was able to snag the thief and make the exchange and handcuffs were placed on his wrists all within a couple of minutes.

Maybe he should have actually paid her the ten dollars. She really did just speed everything up.

But, when he looked around to find her, she was gone.

The second time he met her was at an art auction in D.C. There was no sting. No operation. The Art Squad had recently helped the auction’s sponsor recover a priceless Van Gogh piece and they had insisted the entire Squad come to the black tie dinner and auction, foregoing the 1000-dollar-charge-per-plate the ticket usually cost. The food was good. The wine and champagne was obviously expensive and Pike was sure he’d see some of the art that was being auctioned off in his case files in the next few years. That was just the way of the world. He looked around at the displays and glanced at the sheets where people had written down their bids. Some people were being generous—most others were being cheap.

He slowed to a stop in front of a small Dalí and then down at the auction sheet. It was currently up to only a few hundred dollars. He wouldn’t win, he was sure, but he could pretend to participate in this ridiculous auction.

“I didn’t take you for a Dalí fan.” Her voice was still smooth and he knew, instinctively, that she was smiling before he even turned to look at her. She was draped in sky blue silk and pearls, reminding him of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.

“I think he’s iconic, to be sure.”

She sidled up to him and looked at the small painting. “Thinking about bidding? It looks like everyone else is besotted with that original Warhol.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder to reference the crowd steadily growing on the other side of the ballroom.

But all he could focus on was the smell was her perfume. Expensive and floral, it seemed to fit her perfectly.

Manicured fingers handed him a Mont Blanc pen from the depths of her designer bag. “Best of luck, Agent Pike.”

As she walked away, he realized she knew his last name now—somehow—and he still didn’t know hers.

Pike tried to find her again in the mess of rich people, to ask her name and how she knew of his ‘agent’ status and last name. But all he managed to do was catch a glimpse of blue silk as she exited the venue.

“Do you know her?” A tired-looking man asked as he walked to Pike’s side. “She left a large donation and my boss will kill me if we don’t have a name to write in our next list of donors.”

“I…I don’t actually. Did she bid on anything? Maybe we could get her name that way.”

And for the next fifteen minutes or so, he filtered through the crowd, trying to ask inconspicuously about his Venus and if she had bid on anything. And, when he finally learned that she had bid on an Alphonse Mucha sketch. And he almost felt lucky. Almost!

Because, as he made his way over to where everyone was pointing, he saw only two scribbles on the sheet. Surely he could discern which one of the names was hers.

One was Richard…

And the other one was just a scribble of blue ink, smudged beyond legibility.

(A few weeks later, he was delivered a package at his office. Inside was the Dalí he had bid on. On a slip of paper was a smudged smiley face and the word: Enjoy!)

The third time he met her was decidedly less glamorous. The Art Squad had been trailing a group of thieves across the East Coast when they finally caught up to them in Boston. Pike had hoped they’d be able to catch them in the act and be done with it.

Instead, what they found when they stormed into the art museum, was the thieves holding several hostages. And, of course with his luck, she was among them.

Her hands were behind her head and she was on her knees as one of the thieves pointed a gun to the back of her head. Boredom was, surprisingly, coloring her face but she smiled when she caught sight of Pike. “Hi, Marcus.”

“Hi,” he said in return, fighting a smile of his own.

The whole thing was over in just over an hour and the hostages were released and the thieves were carted off in the back of a police van.

And maybe now he’d finally learn her name.

He was the lead agent on the case so he had to answer a million and one questions from other agents, from outside law enforcement, from the press. And, belatedly, he watched his least favorite agent, Rhett Brown, approach his unnamed Venus. The agent was fine when given a gun and told to shoot—but how he’d managed to wind up on the Art Squad was a mystery. He’d lost or misfiled more paperwork than anyone else Pike had encountered put together.

Pike knew he needed to finish all of this nonsense—and really, he shouldn’t call it nonsense, this was important—if he wanted to even have a chance to get her name. But the local police asked a lot of questions (they were doing their job, he couldn’t blame them) and then the press conference dragged on (again, they were just doing their jobs). And by the time he finished, he jogged back to where the former hostages had been held as they were being questioned.

And, of course, she was gone.

Pike pulled Rhett aside and asked for his notes.

Rhett nodded and stuck his hand into his suit pocket and then froze. “Oh no.” He quickly patted down his other pockets and shouted at another agent, “have you seen my notepad, man?”

Pike was tired when he met her for the fourth time.

The deposition had lasted longer than he anticipated, stretching long into the night. The case was a strange one, involving inheritances, forged wills, and a “disappeared” Jackson Pollock that “reappeared” across the country. The hotel was nice, however, and he slumped into a stool at the hotel’s upscale bar and ordered a pale ale.

It was set in front of him quickly and he drained half of it without much fanfare.

“I always thought you looked more like a whiskey kind of guy.”

He nearly spat out his drink.

She slid into the stool next to him and ordered a top shelf cognac. Her lips were painted a vibrant shade of red and left a mark against the glass as she took a sip of the amber liquid. “Long day?”

“You could say that. You?”

She nodded with a small smile. “What’re you doing in New York? More FBI business?”

“Something like that.” He took another drink of his beer and she watched him over the edge of her own glass. “How’d you know I was in the FBI?”

“We have friends in common. I know Charlie—you helped him get back his precious Van Gogh.”

“Ah, Charlie.” He nodded in understanding.

“Yes, he went on and on about the FBI agent who saved his marriage—imagine that, an entire marriage hanging on the edge of one painting.” Despite cognac being meant for sipping, she had already nearly drained her glass. “Imagine my surprise when it was you—the man from the gallery opening who basically gave me full permission to dump wine on a pompous asshole.” She watched him laugh as she took another sip of the dark amber liquid. “Charlie pointed you out when you came to the auction. The man can hardly remember his children’s names but he remembers yours.” She smiled and he could have sworn he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. “But I like the um…” she gestured at his chin and then placed her finger beneath her nose in a childish imitation of a mustache. “It’s a good look.”

He laughed—she was good at making him laugh. “I was undercover.”

“Oh?” It came out with another laugh. “Aren’t you mysterious?”

“I’m mysterious? You know my name and my job—and that I think Dalí is iconic. I know nothing about you.”

“What is there to know? I procure art for people who have too much money. I spend more time on planes or in hotels than I do in my little apartment in New Orleans. I like Humphrey Bogart movies and a good blanket.” She smiled before polishing off the last dredges of her drink. “See? Now you know more about me than I do about you. And it is all far less interesting.”

His heart had lodged itself higher and higher into his throat as each word passed her lips. “No…I-I think you’re really interesting and beautiful and I…I would love to know more.”

She was embarrassed, he could tell, but she still smiled. Her mouth opened to say something else and-

-a bellhop stepped to her side. “Your bags have been loaded into the car, ma’am.”

She turned and thanked him, pressing a few bills into his hand before she stood and grabbed her purse. She put a few more bills—far more than her drink could have possibly cost—onto the bar top and signaled to the bartender that she was paying for both their drinks before he could even think to stop her. “Thanks for the company.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He was in a bit of a daze as she leaned down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The familiar scent of her expensive perfume touched his nose as she pulled back.

“I’ll see you around, Agent Pike. But really,” she once again mimed the mustache, “it’s a good look.”

He murmured his goodbye, head still pleasantly swimming, and watched her walk away.

It took him a full five minutes to realize he still didn’t know her name.

The fifth time he met her, he’d been stuck at O’Hare International Airport for five hours. Five hours in the worst airport known to mankind. His flight back to DC had been delayed and then delayed some more and then delayed some more. He’d only been in Chicago for a few days to help lead some training to the local arm of the Bureau. Nothing exciting. And now he was stuck waffling between two equally awful airport restaurants for dinner while he continued to wait.

“Hey stranger.”

He turned to see her walking toward him, a designer carryon being wheeled behind her scuffed sneakers. Her hair was up in a lop-sided bun and she had traded her dress for a pair of jeans and an oversized band t-shirt. And why was his mouth filling with saliva? She threw her arms around him in a hug that he quickly reciprocated, squeezing her around the middle as she laughed lightly in his ear. “It’s good to see you. I see you kept the facial hair.”

He laughed and scrubbed a hand over his patchy beard and mustache. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Pike cleared his throat, trying to not sound so smitten. “Where’re you heading now?”

“Home, thankfully. I’ve been go-go-go since I saw you last. It seems everyone wants to give works of art as presents this year. I’m kind of scared what Christmas is going to mean.”

He smiled, liking to know about her life, how she felt. “Been anywhere exciting?”

“Paris and Milan lose their charm after a while. But I finally got to go to Casablanca.” There was a near twinkle in her eye now. “I felt like I should’ve been running around in a trench and fedora, chain-smoking. God knows how many times I muttered ‘here’s lookin’ at you kid’ to myself like a loon.” She shook her head as she bit her lip. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m jetlagged.”

“It’s okay, really. I…I like it.”

She shoved at his shoulder with another laugh. “Careful. You’ll make me fall in love with you.”

“Would that be so bad?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them—something he usually did when he let his stupid, romantic heart take the lead.

She tilted her head as she looked at him with an almost shy smile playing on her lips. “No. No, I don’t think that’d be bad at all.” They looked at each other, each fighting a smile and stupid fluttering of their hearts for the near-stranger in front of them. She broke the little daydream by clearing her throat and glancing away for a moment. “And you? Been anywhere exciting?”

“Just Chicago. Had to lead some training. My flight’s been delayed for a couple hours. Hopefully, I’ll be out of here before midnight.”

“Well, if you’re looking for a good place to eat in this hellscape, I’d recommend the restaurant near C26. I’ve yet to get food poisoning from them—and the food’s pretty good, too.”

“You want to join me?” He asked, something optimistic blooming in his chest.

But her smile fell. “I wish I could. But my flight starts boarding soon.”

As if on cue, there was an announcement over the intercom. “Hello passengers and welcome to Flight 306 to New Orleans. Right now, we will start boarding with our group one passengers and active duty military in uniform.”

“That’s me,” she said with a sigh. “But it was good to see you, Marcus.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

He squeezed her hand for a moment, keeping her still. “You know, I still don’t know your name.”

She paused and then laughed, a full-belly laugh that quickly had him laughing, too. “It’s-”

A passenger cart beeped as it zoomed by, carrying a few elderly women.

“Group one, you’re free to board. Group one,” the announcement seemed to echo in the terminal, overly loud on the old speakers.

He swore he saw her lips move. He did!

But then she was squeezing his fingers again and walking away.

The cherry blossoms were in bloom. Aside from the terrible crowds they brought and the overall mugginess that came with the season, it was one of the things he liked about living in DC. He was sitting on a bench and watching the wind blow through the trees, rustling the pink and white petals gently. His lunchbreak was ending soon and he’d have to get back to the office. The other agents had caught on about his “mysterious lady friend” when he’d finally arrived back from Chicago and had been ribbing him about it ever since. (“How did you not get her name already, Pike?!” A question for the ages.) He crumpled the wrapper from his sandwich and tossed it in the nearest bin, preparing to leave the park.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

But when he opened them, she was standing in front of him like something out of his daydreams. She smiled at him before helping herself to the space beside him on the bench. “I was told you like this bench when the blossoms are in bloom.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Your fellow agents are very chatty, you know.”

“You came looking for me?”

“’Course. I was in town. The auction I need to attend isn’t until tonight and…yeah,” she trailed off, embarrassment coloring her tone as she looked away from him for a moment. “Yeah, I thought I’d see you.”

His smile was so big he was sure it was going to break his face. “I’m glad you did.” He reached out and curled his fingers around hers as they rested on the bench beside her legs.

Her smile was shy but she squeezed his fingers in return as she kept looking out over the cherry blossom trees. “It’s pretty here. I’d love to wake up and just see this.” She waved her free hand toward the blossoms.

“Well, it happens every year. You can come back.” Or you could stay, his traitorous, lovesick heart whispered. But no, he wouldn’t say that. No yet, at least. He could take this slow.

But then she kissed him, quick and soft—he nearly missed it. And she was quickly leaning back against the bench, trying to school her features into indifference.

“What is your name?” He asked, question bursting forward.

She guffawed and pulled her hand back with an exaggerated flourish, fighting another smile. “I told you at the airport!”

“There-there was a transport honking and-and an intercom and then you left-!”

She cupped his cheek in her hand and the words died in his throat. She smiled again, fighting a laugh, and whispered her name.

He whispered it back, rolling the letters across his tongue carefully, pressing it into his mind to keep and hold.

He liked her name.

Part Two

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike imagine

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westallenfun · 3 years

Text

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 1

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 1/7

Chapter One

For almost as long as she could remember, Iris Ann West had been in love with Eddie Thawne Allen. That it was utterly hopeless was a lesson she had learned at the tender age of eleven, but since she had lost her heart to him at age six, that knowledge hardly did any good. Eddie – or Eobard, named after a great-great-great-grandfather or some such; Iris could never remember, but it was far too stodgy of a name for him anyway – was the younger son of Henry and Nora Allen, her father’s wealthy employers. So of course he was leagues above her. But that didn’t matter; her love had never been dependent upon reciprocation. For most of her life, she had been content to worship him from afar.

She would never forget the moment he had first captured her heart. They had just moved into the Allens’ home – her dad having just started his new job as the head of their security team – when the gardener’s son, Christopher, had stolen her favorite toy. Four years older (and a good foot taller) than she was, Christopher had taunted her with his prize, dangling it over her head and pulling it out of her reach in an attempt to make her cry. Iris had been about to punch him in the nose for his trouble, since her father’s lessons on self-defense extended beyond his employers – when Eddie had appeared out of nowhere. He’d retrieved her toy from her tormenter, offered the other boy a stern word of warning, and handed it back to her with a kind smile.

It was in that moment that Iris’s heart had been lost. He had swooped in from out of nowhere to save the day, and it didn’t matter that her day didn’t actually need saving. He’d been her hero nevertheless. He had been like a knight in the fairy tales her mother had read her when she was younger; all tall and blonde and perfect.

Of course, since he was the younger son of the family and she was the daughter of a member of staff, Eddie and Iris seldom interacted. He often seemed oblivious to her very existence, in fact, but that did nothing to quell her devotion to him. She was content to watch from the sidelines as he charmed children and adults alike, always shining like the brightest star in every room he occupied. She marveled at his easy manners and infectious smile, and as she grew older, she imagined what it would be like to have that smile turned upon her.

On the other hand, his brother Bartholomew – three years older than Eddie and herself – couldn’t have been more different. Where Eddie was easy-going, Bartholomew was reserved. Where Eddie approached life with a laugh and consequences with a devil-may-care attitude, his brother approached each decision with careful deliberation. And where Eddie lit up every room he entered, Bartholomew tended to remain on the sidelines. Rarely penetrating her conscious awareness, at least when Eddie was around.

Iris didn’t have any reason to dislike the elder brother. In fact, he’d always been unfailingly polite to her. One day, shortly after they’d moved in, he’d caught Iris reading in the garden and had invited her to borrow from his family’s library in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. He had offered to teach her how to ride a horse – a proposal she’d quickly declined because horses had frightened her at that age. When she was ill, he brought by soup prepared by their chef, and she always found gifts he had chosen for her and her father under the tree at Christmas.

But all of that was to be expected, she supposed. Bartholomew (who had asked her to call him Barry years and years ago, but that seemed entirely too informal for him) was Henry and Nora’s oldest child. He would take over the family businesses in due course. He was only doing what someone in his situation would be expected to do. And so it was that Iris was content to fan the flames of her one-sided infatuation of Eddie while maintaining a polite if distance cordiality with Bartholomew. Until one fateful day when she was sixteen.

She had been walking through the woods when she somehow stepped badly, tripped over a root, and rolled her ankle on the way down. Unable to bite back her sharp cry of distress, Iris had fought back tears as she cradled the injured area, in too much pain to put weight on it so that she could return home.

Then, out of the woods, like an angel come down from Heaven, he had appeared to act as her hero once more, Bartholomew at his side. They had been strolling nearby when they’d heard her cry out and had rushed to her aid. Eddie hadn’t even hesitated before he kneeling next to her, asking if she was okay, while his brother had stood back a bit, watching her in concern. He had said nothing as Eddie verified that her ankle indeed seemed sprained, but Iris didn’t really care. Eddie was there, mere inches away, cradling her ankle in his lap and staring at her with those blue, blue eyes. Bartholomew could have been on the moon for all she’d noticed him.

Pain or no pain, she could have stayed like that all day, except that Eddie had jumped to his feet and offered to fetch her father to come help. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” she’d protested, aching at the all-too-brief encounter.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew had begun in his typical, reasonable tone, “We could probably—”

But Eddie wasn’t listening. “I’ll be right back!” he’d promised before turning and darting back towards home, and Iris had let out a frustrated sigh. Bartholomew had followed suit, his attention darting from Iris to his brother’s back before looking at Iris again.

She hadn’t known what he was thinking; but, then, she’s rarely thought about Bartholomew at all and had in fact almost forgotten his presence until he’d spoken again. “It may be a while for him to find your dad, and you can’t just sit out here indefinitely. Do you think you could walk a little if I helped support your weight?”

It had been (naturally, given the speaker) a perfectly reasonable solution, but Iris was unjustly irritable at him for having made it. She’d been hoping Eddie would return to sweep her into his arms and carry her back home himself. Sure, it seemed unlikely he would do so, and she certainly hadn’t twisted her ankle with any such plan in mind. But she’d thought it would have been nice. Indeed, it would have been the perfect opportunity for her to get closer to Eddie (if he’d only return without her dad in tow), and now his brother was ruining it.

She’d let out a small huff of frustration. “I guess,” she’d grumbled rather churlishly. Bartholomew had blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by her mood, but he’d moved to crouch at her side nonetheless. Moving slowly, with almost uncharacteristic uncertainty, he had wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as she lumbered to her feet. When she let out a soft hiss of pain at putting weight on her injured ankle, he had shifted his hold on her so that he was carrying a greater amount of her weight on that side.

Setting her chin in a determined angle, Iris had hobbled forward several steps, feeling a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts as she wished it was Eddie by her side. Even still, she couldn’t help but be annoyed that it was Bartholomew instead. Why hadn’t he gone for help and left his brother behind? Then things would have been perfect. Her pain would have been worth it.

She’d let out a heavy sigh of frustration, and she felt Bartholomew shift his hold on her again. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?”

“No, I just – ow!” she’d cried out, so distracted by thoughts of how wonderful it would be if she was spending this time with Eddie that she stepped wrong and caused a sharp stab of pain to radiate from her ankle.

He’d pulled her to a halt, holding her steady while she caught her breath and waited for the swell of pain to subside. Finally, when she was able to straighten slightly again, he’d offered tentatively, “You know…I’m really scared we’re going to make your ankle worse if we keep this up. I-if you want, I could, um, I could…carry you?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous!” she’d cried automatically, even as her mind had conjured images of Eddie lifting her into his strong arms to carry her home. Her head would have rested perfectly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Even when they returned home, he wouldn’t have put her on her feet right away, as reluctant to release her as she would be set free. He’d stare into her eyes and, in that moment, he would realize what had been in front of him all along. He’d open his mouth to finally say the words she’d been longing to hear for so long. “Iris, I—”

“Well, I think it’s going to start raining soon, and that might make everything worse,” Bartholomew had pointed out pragmatically, throwing a bucket of cold water all over her fantasy.

She’d huffed and looked around, praying she would see Eddie rushing back to her. Regrettably, he’d been nowhere in sight. She’d glowered up at the grey clouds above, her irritation growing when she realized it did indeed look like rain. Frustrated at her thwarted fantasies, she’d dropped her gaze to Bartholomew’s and snapped, “Why did you have to be you? Why couldn’t you have gone to get my dad and left Eddie behind?”

She’d felt badly about her words the moment they’d left her mouth, as Bartholomew’s head had jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She’d braced herself for him to snap at her, but he hadn’t, which somehow had made her feel worse. Instead, he’d cleared his throat and asked, “I understand if you don’t want me to – well, if you’d rather take a break and rest for a minute. I’m sure Eddie will be back soon. We can find a place for you to sit so you’re not putting weight on your ankle.”

Feeling wretched and ashamed, Iris had dropped her gaze to the ground as she mumbled, “No. I-I want to go home now. Please.”

He’d nodded, one swift, decisive, jerk of his head. Bending to loop his arm behind her knees, he’d said, “Okay. You ready? Go ahead and put your arm around my neck, and make sure you keep your weight on me. I’m going to pick you up in three…two…one.”

She’d never really thought about Bartholomew’s physical strength – other than to think it came second to Eddie’s, as all things did. So she’d been somewhat surprised to find how easily he lifted her and carried her back toward the house, his long legs eating up the distance with surprising speed. He hadn’t even sound winded as he stepped onto the gravel pathway leading to the side door that was closest to the rooms she shared with her dad. Whether she’d have been able to hear his heartbeat if she rested her head against his chest, she didn’t know, since she’d flatly refused to put her head there.

They’d remained silent the entire way back to her door, but when he’d put her gently back onto her feet, the good manners her parents had drilled into her head overcame her embarrassment. Her gaze fixed somewhere around his feet, she’d mumbled, “Thank you for helping me get home, and I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I appreciate your help. Really.”

“It’s okay,” he’d told her sheepishly. “I understand. You love Eddie.” Mortified, she’d shot a look at his face, and he’d lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m not judging! Lots of people love my brother. He’s always been lucky like that. It’s just, I thought for once—” His voice had trailed off, and she watched as his cheeks turned red.

Though she’d suspected she should leave it alone, she hadn’t been able to help herself. “What?”

Bartholomew had sighed, his shoulders lifting and falling in an awkward shrug. “I thought you saw me.” Scowling, he’d looked away from her before mumbling, “Anyway, you should take it easy on that ankle. I’ll have my dad stop by and check on you when he gets a chance.”

“Thanks,” she’d said, but he’d merely nodded at her and walked away, shoving his hands into his pockets, his head bowed.

She hadn’t realized it at the time (and wouldn’t have cared even if she had), but that would be the last time that she and Bartholomew would be alone or speak honestly with each other for several years. She’d never have cause fault him for his manners; he remained unfailingly polite and even thoughtful in his choice of gifts for her and her dad on birthdays and holidays. But from that moment in the woods, the distance between them only continued to grow.

By the time Iris left for college, she and Bartholomew were all but strangers, and Eddie had still never seemed to really register her existence. Perhaps the latter was a blessing, because it might have made it easier for her to go. She couldn’t believe her luck when was admitted to her top-choice school overseas and was even more astonished when she received a scholarship to attend from an anonymous benefactor.

Her first few months at the school were bittersweet; she missed her dad, he friends, and of course Eddie. But over time, her fixation on Eddie lessened, even if her devotion did not. She made new friends, explored new interests, and even went on dates with other men. And every so often, she’d read the society pages back home to see what the Allen family were up to in her absence. It seemed like every week, Eddie had a new woman on his arm – a fact which initially brought her pain but which she eventually was able to accept with an indulgent laugh.

And then the unthinkable happened. Almost a year after she left, Henry Allen died unexpectedly, and Iris managed to get a few days off school to return home for the funeral. Her first encounter with Eddie upon her return caused her heart to race no less than it had before, but she noticed with some degree of surprise that it was Bartholomew she couldn’t stop watching at the funeral.

Later, she would console herself with the thought that her attention had likely not been entirely consumed by Eddie because his open display of grief had garnered the attention of many – including several pretty ladies – who seemed eager to congregate around him to offer their sympathy and support. Bartholomew, on the other hand, remained somewhat apart, staying silent until approached directly. While most attendees to the funeral watched Eddie, Bartholomew watched his mother, offering her a glass of water or his arm for support whenever her strength seemed to flag.

Once – just once – as the coffin was being slowly lowered into its eternal resting place, Bartholomew looked up and met her eyes. His features were frozen, but she saw his eyes were red, filled with tears that he refused to shed, and her heart broke for him. It was then that she remembered his words from the last time they had really spoken. “I thought you saw me.”

He looked away quickly, and Iris tried to turn her attention back to Eddie. But when the service had concluded and they returned to the Allen home for the repast, Iris found herself preoccupied with thoughts of how Bartholomew was faring. She wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t get a chance since she only saw him briefly, as he was busy seeing to his guests’ comfort and making sure they had enough refreshments to go around.

It seemed strange, that he would spend such an event worrying about other people. So it felt perfectly natural that she should want to check on him, to offer him her condolences for his loss. With that in mind, she’d sought him out, eventually finding him in his father’s study, hands clasped behind his back as he stared gravely out the window.

Inexplicably shy in his company – though she’d never been so before – Iris approached without a word, taking a position at his side. If he needed her, she would be there for him, but if he would rather his peace be undisturbed, she wouldn’t pressure him. After a moment, she saw him turn toward her and took this as an invitation to speak. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that so sorry about your dad,” she murmured softly, the words sounding inane in her own ears.

He paused, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily before he could speak, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you could come. It would have meant a lot to him. He – he thought very highly of you, you know.”

“The feeling was mutual,” she said with a wistful smile. In her position as daughter of an employee, she couldn’t claim that she’d ever been terribly close with either Henry or Nora Allen. Or with their children, come to that. But the elder Allens always been kind to her, taking an interest in her when she was in their presence and remembering her when she wasn’t. She tried for something profound – or at least comforting – but her brain resorted to inanity once more as she offered a lame, “He’ll be missed.”

Bartholomew nodded, turning his attention back to the window, and Iris almost took that as her cue to leave except that he spoke again. “Your dad has been very proud of you this year. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that he takes every opportunity to tell everyone who’ll listen how well you’re doing.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all, and a brief silence fell between them once more. Eventually, he broke it by asking, “Do you like it? School, I mean.”

Iris recognized he was probably looking for anything to talk about that would take his mind off his own grief, and so she lingered, turning to look out the window as well. “For the most part. I can’t say I love all the classes, and it was hard at first, being so far from home. But I’ve made some friends, and I just got a part-time job that’s flexible with school and will tide me over between semesters.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Oh, I thought you might come home over breaks.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I thought about it. But I decided I wanted to get a job and help out, and my dad said he’d come visit me whenever he can.”

Bartholomew let out a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Well, if there’s ever anything else you need, all you need to do is ask.” She didn’t immediately catch that strange word, else, and wouldn’t until she was on the plane back home, too late to ask him what it meant. Instead, when she started to thank him, he waved it away, visibly uncomfortable by her gratitude. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re enjoying school,” he said, glancing down at her once more. “You should do something that makes you happy.”

She started to reply, but unfortunately (though she wouldn’t register the misfortune of it for some time), it was just then that Iris heard a loud sob behind her and looked over her shoulder to see that Eddie in the hallway, surrounded by his usual phalanx of admirers. She hesitated, inwardly debating stepping out to check on him but not wanting to abandon the man by her side. Her indecision became moot, however, as by the time she turned back to her companion, Bartholomew had walked away. She looked around just in time to see him step through an adjoining door, and though she cried out after him, he seemed not to have heard her as the door swung closed behind him.

It occurred to her on her long flight back to school that she was always a victim of timing when it came to Bartholomew. But what did that matter? Her heart did – and always would – belong to Eddie. There weren’t many things she was certain of in the world, but she was certain of that.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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songtoyou · 4 years

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Mr. Evans and the Congresswoman - Part 2

Paring: Chris Evans x Politician Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,858

Warnings: Political topics such as Biden, Harris, our current White House occupant and the current administration.

Description: It is the week of the DNC and Chris is once again interviewing you for A Starting Point.

A/N: The DNC inspired me to write a second part for this story. This is pure fiction as I do not know what Chris believes when it comes to politics and policy issues. This is a complete work of fiction.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Note: Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

"Hi, Congresswoman Y/L/N?" Chris Evans asked with a smile.

He was once again interviewing you for ASP. This time it was during the week of the Democratic National Convention. Chris and Mark had already talked to other politicians such as Senator Cory Booker and Representatives Ro Khanna and Alma Adams. You were the last elected official he was slated to interview to wrap up the DNC week.

Truthfully, Chris was happy to get the chance to talk with you again. Your previous interview for ASP was such a hit that it garnered a lot of attention from fans and the media. However, it was not because you helped bring more legitimacy and attention for ASP, but instead, Chris found himself genuinely admiring you.

"Hi," you said to Chris, giving a small wave through the Zoom screen. "I told you to call me by my first name."

"I know, but I still want to show respect," Chris responded with a teasing smile. Was he mildly flirting with the congresswoman? Yes, but he had no shame in doing so. "How are you? You are looking well."

"I am doing well. Thank you. How about you?"

"Same. Just trying to stay sane through everything. I'm actually currently in London. Working on a project." Chris admitted.

"Uh oh. You better be staying safe and following the right procedures and protocols," you lightly reprimanded him.

"My fans ratted me out. They found where I was just by the hotel door. Can you believe that? That is some FBI-level investigating, right there. I'd be impressed if I weren't also terrified of the lengths some of these fans will go to scout my location," Chris ranted. He did not understand why he was sharing this with you, but a part of him felt comfortable doing so.

"That…is quite impressive, I must say. Creepy. Scary. But impressive. You need to learn how to put in a Zoom background. It would solve all of your problems," you suggested to him.

"I would, but I'm technology deficient. Maybe I should look up some Zoom tutorials on how to do it. Give it a try."

"There is no try…only do," you advised cheekily.

"Now you're quoting Yoda. A woman after my own heart," Chris replied. He knew he needed to refocus. "So, as you can tell, Mark won't be joining us for this interview. I'm going to hit record if that is okay?"

"Okay. I'm ready when you are," you said.

When the record notification appeared on screen, Chris introduced you and immediately went into the first question.

"How do you think the DNC is going so far, particularly how this year is more of a virtual setting rather than in-person due to COVID-19?"

"Despite not having the big in-person celebration/gathering, I think the virtual setting is working very well. Better than I expected, actually. It gives off a more inclusive and intimate vibe to the DNC that we haven't felt before. I like the whole documentary approach and feel to it," you replied honestly.

"Were you excited that Joe Biden chose Senator Kamala Harris as his running mate?" asked Chris.

"Oh my God! I was so happy that Vice President Biden chose Senator Harris as his running mate. Like, my staff and I were beyond ecstatic. There is no one better to be Biden's running mate than Harris. She is amazing. Such an inspiration. I'm not going to lie, but I'm really excited for the debate between her and Pence."

That made Chris laugh. "Yeah, me too. Senator Harris really knows how to pull all the punches. Her nomination as VP has been met with overall positive response. The Trump Administration and Republican pundits appear to have a hard time painting a negative image of Harris. Why do you think Trump and Fox News are struggling to provide a negative image for her?"

"That is an excellent question. The public's overwhelming response to Harris' nomination is because 1.) she is the first black and south Asian woman to be on a major presidential ticket, and 2.) she is likable and charming. She has this exuberant energy that attracts people to her. You know, black and brown women and girls finally have someone that looks like them running for the second-highest office in the land. That is huge!

"I also have to wonder if people have smartened up in the last four years and won't tolerate the…hypocrisy, sexism, and misogyny…in this case misogynoir that is thrown towards Senator Harris from the media, political pundits, social media bots, etc. So, what we are seeing with Trump and Fox News struggling to attack her is because…well…they just aren't smart. All we have seen from Trump in his attacks against her is that she was mean to Kavanaugh when questioning him during his nomination process. But none of what Trump says holds up because we all know that smart, confident women intimidate him," you finished off your point.

"There is also the left…or more of the progressive left who are unhappy with Biden choosing Harris," Chris spoke up and continued, "They say she is a cop and put people away for weed. That she took kids away from parents when the kid didn't show up for school. That Harris is too conservative. What do you say to that?"

"All of that is…you know…. Senator Harris one of the most policy progressive senators we have. Her voting record is more progressive than Bernie Sanders. All people have to do is research her time as a district attorney and Attorney General for California to find out what she actually did concerning policy. But as we both know, people nowadays don't know how to critically think, which scares me. Progressives need to look at the overall big picture. This election in November is crucial. We are in the fight for our democracy, for our country, and for our lives…literally."

"I talk with my brother, Scott, all the time about certain political issues," mentioned Chris. "He is a tad more progressive than I am. I can admit that I tend to be more centrist. The district you represent is a mix of blue and red areas; how do you balance opposing views from your constituents?"

You took in a deep breath before you answered. That was a loaded question. Representing a district that was not solely red, or blue could be difficult from time to time. You wanted to be respectful of the different viewpoints from constituents, but maintaining a neutral balance was hard and frustrating at times.

"The majority of Americans are centrist/moderates. You need a balance of both liberal and conservative policies. Bipartisanship is crucially important when developing and passing laws. We are currently seeing an overt of one-sidedness while sabotaging the other side, which is detrimental to our country's growth. It is important to reach across the aisle to talk with those who may have opposing views than you. At the end of the day, people just want to feel that their concerns are heard and valued. We all want to feel that way. So, as an elected official, I make sure to take the time to talk with those in rural areas, along with urban areas, about their issues and concerns," you shared.

"Do you ever get any pushback from Trump supporters in the red areas?" Chris inquired.

"Well, it is important to note that not all residents in rural areas are Trump supporters. They just tend to keep that to themselves. I have actually talked to Trump supporters in blue areas. We can never and should never assume that one area has this type of person and vice versa. I learned that the hard way when I was campaigning for city council early in my career," you revealed to Chris with a small chuckle. "But overall, my constituents will talk with me and have been respectful. Some of the concerns that have been shared with me do fall under the QAnon conspiracy theories, which do disturb me, I'll be honest. Um…when being confronted with someone who has that extreme of ideals, it is important to remain calm and not to come off combative. Meaning that I have to remind myself that I am not quite dealing with a rational person. The only thing that I can do is calmly talk to the person and respond back with facts. Either they listen or brush me off and call me a radical lefty."

"The majority of people are good, like you said," Chris reminded you.

"That's right. It's a good mantra to live by. I think the American people are tired and have been tired for the past four years with this Administration. We need a sense of normalcy and decency. Compassion and empathy, which were two of the big themes during the DNC. This week was a nice reminder that we, as a country, can have that again."

"I agree. Very well said. You always end on a positive. I appreciate that. Thank you, Congresswoman Y/L/N, for taking the time to talk with me. You always provide great insight into the world of politics and your experience as an elected official," said Chris and ended the recording. "That was really great, Y/N. I know Mark, and I really appreciate you taken the time to do these interviews for ASP," Chris added.

"Oh, it is no problem. Like I said before, I like what you both are doing with the site. Are you happy with how everything turned out?" you asked him.

"Yeah… it's…it took a while to just get the website up and running. I know there is still work that needs to be done. Some areas need to be fixed, but with a project like this, we can adjust. There is more room for improvement and growth," Chris communicated to you.

You nodded in agreement. "Politics is a whole different ballgame. Not many people are willing to venture into the field. It can cause a lot of annoyances and headaches. So, hats off to you, my friend," you said, giving Chris a salute.

"Thank you. Well, I better let you go. I know you must have a million things on your plate."

"Ah yes, I have to go and save the United States Postal Service from corruption. Talk to you later, Chris. Take care," you waved goodbye and signed off.

Chris had to admit, he was in awe of you. There was something about you that fascinated him. None of the elected officials he and Mark talked to for ASP had the liveliness you had. You were not jaded or defeated by the system, at least not yet, since you were still considered a junior member of congress. Chris hoped that the energy and enthusiasm you had for politics and helping people would not diminish. When his Uncle Mike was still a congressman, he shared with Chris that D.C. can cause a lot of strain on a person's values and beliefs. "I have seen too many of my colleagues succumb to the pressures of dirty politics," Uncle Mike once said.

Chris just hoped that you would not succumb to those pressures.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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octoberobserver · 4 years

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Prompt: reddie lost in a corn maze together :D

OMG thanks @tinyarmedtrex! What a brilliant prompt for Halloween (and my birthday lol) month :D It really kept my mind off awful wisdom-tooth pain! ♡ READ ON AO3

‘You make me so corny’ - Reddie fic

“Ruh roh.”

“‘Ruh roh?’ Don’t ‘ruh roh,’ Richie, you’re not fucking Scooby Doo.”

“I hate to be a bad news bear—”

“It’s bearer of bad news.”

“We’re lost.”

Eddie Kaspbrak blinked, head tilted up at his best friend, roommate and tentatively-as-of-yet-undefined third thing, Richie Tozier who continued to look around them as if he were a sea captain flirting with the horizon.

“We are not lost, asshole,” Eddie rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air, “this thing is made for kids.”

Richie slowly turned, smirk crossing his face.

“I swear to god, if you even think about making a Children of the Corn joke—”

“Would you say we’re in an ‘adult nightmare’ right about now, Eds, or…?”

Eddie shoved him, “You've been an ‘adult nightmare’ since 1976.”

Richie held up a hand to his chest as if wounded, “Excuse me, Spaghedward, that is just not accurate.”

He waited a beat, taking several steps in front of Eddie (who was determinedly charging ahead) and began to walk backwards, spreading his arms out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’ve been your adult dream since 2016.”

The innuendo was not lost on either of them, but Eddie refused to take the bait, instead rolling his eyes and deftly ignoring the heat pooling in his stomach because they were in the middle of a fucking kids’ corn maze and apparently lost. It was hardly the time to evaluate just how accurate Richie’s little rhyme was.

“You have actually,” he agreed airily, taking several steps forward and forcing Richie back in the direction Eddie chose, his legs stumbling a little, lanky and uncoordinated as usual, “you’ve been in every adult dream I’ve had since 2016, Rich.”

He watched smugly as Richie’s jaw slackened, eyes a little more wide behind his signature specs.

“Yeah,” Eddie continued, enjoying the thrill of trashing the Trashmouth, “there’s the one where you forget to file your taxes and end up in jail like Wesley Snipes,” he began counting on his fingers, “there’s the one where you think it’s a good idea to try and renovate your own pool and end up stuck down in the empty one like Mac and Charlie from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia…”

Richie grinned good-naturedly at the reference, probably pleased with himself for enforcing their IASIP binge-watch, giving a ‘it could happen’ half-shrug.

“And,” Eddie paused for dramatic effect because it was Halloween and he was stuck in a fucking corn maze with the world’s oldest child, “there’s the one where you forget that only you have a terrible sense of direction and I…”

He trailed off, reaching out and grabbing Richie’s wrist to steer him right instead of left.

“...don’t.”

Richie blinked as they found themselves near the entrance of the maze, seemingly the last out, the silhouettes of children and parents making their way to the parking lot as dusk fell overhead.

“Impressive Eds,” Richie beamed, opening his hand and jiggling his wrist until Eddie's fingers bumped against his, pulling them gently to a stop. “We’ll be reunited with the creepy white-haired children any second now.”

Slowly, he closed his larger hand around Eddie’s and gave it a tight squeeze.

Eddie watched their hands for a beat before glancing up and catching Richie’s eye.

“That’s Village of the Damned, not Children of the Corn, idiot.”

Richie chuckled.

“Since when did you become a horror-story expert?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Since I lived in one. Twice.”

Richie hummed in agreement, eyes catching on Eddie’s cheek that housed one of the two scars that served as reminders of such horrors, before stepping a little closer.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice lowering slightly as he leaned into him, winding his free arm around Eddie’s shoulders, “remember that time we got stuck in Mikey’s cornfield and had to wait for the Losers to find us with flashlights ‘cause it got so dark?”

Eddie did remember that. Vividly. Now that he was allowed to. He remembered how cold it had been, how he had violently shivered in only his T-shirt and shorts and how Richie had wound an arm around his shoulders much like he was right now and immediately stopped his shaking.

He could never tell if it was Richie’s warmth or proximity to him that had managed to put a halt to his impending freak-out. Probably both.

“Yeah,” he tilted his head up to meet his eye, squeezing his hand, “you kept quoting Children of the Corn back then too. It wasn’t funny that time either.”

Richie’s laugh vibrated through his chest so that Eddie felt it in his shoulder.

Now he was suppressing a shiver for a whole different reason.

“Riiiight,” Richie smirked, leaning in even closer, his breath bouncing off Eddie’s cheek, “I kept saying—”

“Yelling—”

“Praise God, praise the Lord!” The two of them yelled in unison.

Up ahead, several parents turned at the sound, causing them to break into laughter.

“Shit, I can’t believe we’re gonna get banned from a Halloween pop-up shop,” Eddie groused as he gripped Richie’s hip with his free hand, squeezing in a way that was supposed to be admonishing but judging by Richie’s face, was anything but.

“Well, if we’re getting kicked out anyway,” Richie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “can I fulfil lil 14-year-old Richie’s dreams and do what I wanted to do in the field back then?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“Is it rated PG?”

Richie tilted his head in thought.

“PG13 at most.”

Eddie heaved a faux-sigh, “Then go ahead. Fulfil whatever little—”

Richie cut him off with a gentle kiss, his arm tightening ever-so-slightly around his shoulders as he pulled them closer together, tracing his tongue feather-light across Eddie’s lip.

Eddie opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, an electric thrill surging through his body, the feel of Richie’s mouth against his still exhilarating after over a month since their first one, shared on a quiet night in September, pressed against their fridge, the taste of ice cream still on their lips.

Richie gave the tiniest of moans, more of a hum that he will one hundred percent deny later as Eddie reached up to grip the back of his neck, pulling him further down for one last nip of the lips before breaking the kiss.

“God Eds,” Richie gasped, resting their foreheads together, “you make me so corny.”

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Eddie shoved a cackling Richie away from him, charging towards the entrance without a backward glance, calling over his shoulder.

“You’re un-fucking-real Tozier, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Richie called back, scrambling to keep up, their car coming into view in the distance, “you made that point already, Eds. I’m your dream.”

Eddie didn’t dignify that with a response. No matter how right it was. Instead, later that night, he took his revenge out on the pumpkin they had bought for carving.

He always was good at capturing Trashmouth’s essence. And Richie’s glasses were almost too easy to carve into the fruit with the box cutter he got from Home Depot.

MORE REDDIE FICS HERE

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #halloween #writing prompts #tinyarmedtrex #my fanfiction

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au10 · 3 years

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Eastwood

So I watched all the westerns by Eastwood. Below you’ll find my list of what I’d say are his best to not necessarily worst just not great. Keep in mind that this list is just my opinion and yours very well may differ and hey that’s great. Also keep in mind there will be spoilers but to be fair the majority of these movies are older than me. I would also like to point out that I didn’t view Rawhide as I really didn’t seem like something I’d like. The list is as best as I can tell are all of his westerns. Some are kind of iffy as I don’t consider them a western.

http://most-wanted-western-movies.com/clint-eastwood-westerns/

1.”Unforgiven” 1992

My original pick was going to be “For a Few dollars more”. I re-watched Unforgiven again and have decided that Unforgiven is his best western. Made in 1992. It features Morgan Freeman, Gene Hackman and Richard Harris. There might even be more stars but those are the ones that stood out to me. The plot basically goes like this. William Munny a ruthless killer back in the day settles down with a woman who changes his life. He gave up his killer ways. The wife is already dead when the movie starts and Munny stays on the good path for lack of better phrasing. I don’t want to spoil to much more but needless to say a large bounty put on some ruffians leads to some nice action.

I love the soundtrack to this movie. Well at least one song in particular and that’s Claudia’s theme. You can YouTube if you wish. I think it’s really great.

A couple of quotes that I enjoyed.

“ I've killed women and children. I've killed everything that walks or crawls at one time or another. And I'm here to kill you, Little Bill, for what you done to Ned”

.”It's a hell of a thing, killing a man. You take away all he's got and all he's ever gonna have.“

2. “For a few dollars more” 1965

This is the sequel to a “Fistful of dollars”. It’s part of the famous dollar trilogy movies. Made in 1965 Eastwood portrays the man with no name. I really like Lee Van Cleef as Col. Douglas Mortimer. It’s a revenge type of western. Both Cleef and Eastwood characters are pretty much bounty hunters. Cleef has an entirely different motive for his actions though. They seem to have great chemistry together too. I also like the dialogue between them as well. Clint Eastwood's character calls Lee Van Cleef's character "old man", while Van Cleef's character calls Eastwood "boy". Once more I love the music plays when the pocket watch is opened up.

3.” A fist full of dollars.” 1964

The beginning if you will of the the man with no name trilogy or dollars trilogy which ever you prefer. The dollars trilogy is what you call a spaghetti western. “ Spaghetti westerns were not rated highly due to their low budgets, over the top violence and inferior art work. But, these Spaghetti Westerns changed that perception forever. Director Sergio Leone gave one after another hit and this trilogy made Clint Eastwood a mega star. “ Some people don’t like them or they find them to corny. Each to their own. I loved the movies. My father pointed out to me one of the things that bugged him was the constant camera cuts to the other characters in the film. It especially focuses on their eyes. I never noticed it until he pointed it out. I do love the scene where he confronts the bullies/bad guys. On his way to them. He passes by the undertaker and tells him to get three coffins ready. After the shootout he passes back by the undertaker and tells him my mistake 4 coffins.

4. “The Good, The bad and the Ugly.” 1966

The last of the dollars trilogy. A lot of people will say that this is the best of the three movies. Like the previous film it also stars Lee Van Cleef. This time though he is one of the villain’s. It’s a good movie. I enjoyed Eli Wallach as Tuco. Once more you have the music on point with The Ecstasy of Gold. I heard that song years earlier when Metallica would use it. My last thought on this trilogy is I do love how Eastwood is always smoking those little cigars. I have read though he actually hated them.

“ You see, in this world there's two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig. “

5. “Two Mules for Sister Sara” 1970

This one is a film I really liked. It doesn’t seem to be as serious as the previous I’ve listed above. It actually has quite a few comedic moments in it. I think one of the best parts of the movie is after Hogan (Eastwood) saves Sara from impending doom. She gets dressed and comes back out in her nun gear. Once Hogan realizes she is a known his expression is great then he exclaims “Jesus Christ”. I noticed this movie had blood in it. A lot of the earlier ones don’t. One guy gets his arm cut off and one takes a machete to the face. It’s a good movie and I enjoyed it. I should note the soundtrack or at least one song they play over at times in the film is a play on the title. It sounds like a mule actually braying. Pretty nifty.

6. “Pale Rider” 1985

Another good movie. Eastwood is just known as the preacher in this movie. He helps out a prospect town from becoming a mining town. When the prospectors will not give up their land. A marshal and his deputies are sent in to get prospectors out. It’s hinted at that the marshal may know the preacher form the way he reacts after told his description. This is definitely one of my favorites though. It does get a little weird with the preacher having intercourse with a guy’s girlfriend. The action is great though. It should be noted that it’s been told that Eastwood’s charter is a ghost in this film. Richard Kiel is in this movie as well. He is a well established actor. Most likely known for playing Jaws in Moonraker.

7. Outlaw Josey wales 1976

A lot of people like this movie. It’s Eastwoods only PG rated western. It’s once more a revenge type western. Josey’s family is murdered by the Union army and he joins a confederate group to get his revenge. I think one of the best parts in the movie is when Josey shoots the rope holding a ferry going across the river. Some of the Union soldiers horses fall into the river preventing them from reaching Wales. This movie is said to be George Strait’s favorite. I did find it funny that the old man in charge of the ferry was playing to both sides. If you were a Confederate he would sing “Dixie” if you were a Union solider he would sing “Battle hymn of the republic” Ever the opportunist I suppose.

"Well Mr. Carpetbagger, we got something in this territory called a Missoura boat ride!"

"Well are ya' gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?"

8.”High plains drifter” 1973

This movie could be almost a part of the man with no name trilogy. It’s just not as good. I liked the midget character named Mordecai . He is one of the best in the movie and funny. This is one of the movies where it’s possible that the stranger (Eastwood’s character) could be a ghost. Some people say he is the sheriff’s brother. Eastwood has said that himself. Then again some people say he is the ghost of the sheriff himself. It’s up to the viewer and how you choose to interpret it. This movie also marks the first movie Eastwood directed that was a western.

“You're going to look pretty silly with that knife sticking out of your ass.“

9. “Hang’em High” 1968

This was Eastwoods first major role in America. The Dollars trilogy had yet to come out over here in America. Jed (Eastwoods character) is wrongfully hanged by a posse. He naturally seeks revenge after being rescued. He becomes a Marshal and winds up bringing some of the posse to justice. It also stars Pat Hingle. I really only know him from Tim Burton’s Batman. He played Commissioner Gordon.

10. “Joe Kidd” 1972

To be honest with you this movie really doesn’t do anything for me at all. It’s not a bad movie but it’s not one that really captivates me either. It stars Robert Duvall as a rich/wealthy landowner trying to push Mexicans off of their land. He hires Eastwood’s character named Joe Kidd. It does have some decent moments. A pretty cool scene shows Kidd taking out a gunman upon a rock. The final fight is also pretty neat where Kidd drives a train through the bar.

Honorable Mentions:

1.”Bronco Billy” 1980

This movie was on the list and I viewed it. I liked it. Eastwood plays a carnival showman. It’s your typical story of guy and girl don’t get along. Then as the movie progresses they start to get along and wind up with one another. It’s not a western but it has the theme. It does have Scatman Crothers in it as Doc. Throw in a crooked lawyer and a crooked husband and this is the movie you have.

2. “Paint your wagon” 1969

This set during the gold rush. It is a musical though and you can get the soundtrack on itunes. I heard about this movie from The Simpsons years ago. It doesn’t have a western feel to me. Eastwood plays Pardner. It’s a cool little musical. It’s an interesting movie though. A Mormon has two wives and he sells one. Well Pardner and his partner Ben rum son played by Lee Marvin buys her. Elizabeth the wife that was purchased basically has two husbands. It’s really a good movie. My favorite song being “Wand’rin Star”

3. “The Beguiled” 1971

They had this movie on the list and there again I witched it. It’s certainly not a western. It’s okay. Eastwood kind of plays a bad guy in it but only to survive. Set in the Civil War era. He is an injured Union solider rescued by a little girl. She takes him to an all girls school. It should be noted that this is the only movie in which a character portrayed by Eastwood dies.

#Clinteastwood #Westernmovies

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godsofhumanity · 3 years

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GODHUNTER by AMY SUMIDA | REVIEW

okiee this was recommended to me by @inkleaves ^-^ uhmm so i have a LOT to say about this book. spoilers under cut.

OVERVIEW: “Godhunter” is the epithet given to a young woman named Vervain who uses witchcraft and magic to go around committing deicide in order to save humanity from gods who drain their energy to gain immortality and other godly attributes. However, when Vervain is recruited by the Norse god Thor, she finds herself in an alliance with the people she originally considered her enemies, as they work together to save the world from the maliciousness of the Aztec god, Huitzilopochtli.

RATING: 2/10. i’m giving it a low rating because it doesn’t really have too much to do with mythology, but i did like its general portrayal of most deities even though this book was insanely cringey and dumb.. now, even though under the cut, i’ve kinda bashed the book quite a bit, i still have to admit that i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have fun reading it. i stayed up to 1 AM trying to finish it because i had to find out what the protag’s next stupid decision would be,, all in all, if you like trash/cringe fiction- this is for you.

WARNING: even though this book is a YA novel, I’d say there’s a definite emphasis on the adult part of “young adult”... Certain scenes and themes are inappropriate for minors.

AVAILABLE ON: pdf link here ^-^ ((i think it downloads immediately if you click))

THINGS I LIKED:

the book is cringe.

great diversity in terms of the god cast. i learned about some new deities that i was previously unfamiliar with, so that was cool

Brahma (Hindu deity) wears a Gucci belt as part of his attire ^-^

whatever Estsanatlehi and Tsohanoai (Native American deities) had going on.... they were really cute and wholesome

THOR-HORUS BROTP AGENDA!!!!!!!! everyone who follows me already knows how keen i am about this idea of all the war deities hanging out together (fite club), and this novel served up exactly that. disappointing that Huitzilopochtli wasn’t a part of it, but i am settling for Thor and Horus’ several centuries old friendship.

Horus’ falcon tattoo detail.. i LOVE the idea of the gods having their sacred animals tattooed,, it’s so awesome!!!

Pan... i liked the way he still had his little horns, and he was kinda chaotic and fun.

in general, the descriptions of the gods were so pleasant and so cool.. i really liked the way that pretty much all the gods were beautiful,, this is very much in line with my own idea of how the gods look, and i think it makes sense, because they’re meant to be charismatic, compelling beings- beings that you worship, beings that you praise- why would they be anything but beautiful? and even if they were considered ugly by other gods, that’s only in comparison to other deities.. from a human perspective,, i just can’t see how any mortal could consider a god to be anything less than perfection,, idk

in particular- i really enjoyed the descriptions of Huitzilopochtli in his debut. i know he’s a piece of shit in the novel, but i LOVED the way he was described with his war-frenzy being triggered by blood, and the way, as god of the sun, his body almost glows, and heats up as though you’re looking into the sun itself, and the only way he can cool it down is by bathing in blood... WOWOWOWOW it’s just such a neat and fantastic visual description. his physical appearance really paid tribute to Huitzilopochtli’s original domain and attributes.

i also liked the linking between Huitzilopochtli being the Father of Vampires.. links between Aztec culture and vampirism is a trope that i didn’t originally suspect, but have become exposed to quite a bit as of late,, and i think that it’s quite a clever little plot. i liked that Huitzilopochtli also debunks superstitions about the sun, garlic, crosses, holy water etc.

Huitzilopochtli as the villain. the man makes a BRILLIANT villain- his motives are very clear and also, i thought, justified, albeit unoriginal. his presence is quite terrifying, and the reader does worry for Vervain’s safety whenever she’s with him- which is good! this means that he fills out his role as a villain well. tbh,, i did love Huitzilopochtli from the moment of his debut, but he got knocked out of my books during a certain temple scene and i have some thoughts about that in the next section.

when Vervain wakes up after the temple dream with Huitzilo, and she relaxes because it was just a dream, but then she looks into the mirror and sees bite marks on her neck!!! CHILLS! now THAT was good writing- it was unexpected, and served well to navigate into the next part of the plot.

Odin and Huitzilopochtli holding a ted talk on “how to create panic and discord among the humans”, and the gods having to bring certain meals depending on what the first letter of their names were.

Vervain’s pop-culture references, and her weaponry- especially the gloves that have blades in them that get released when she swings her hand downwards. very cool, i want them.

casual appearances from Vladimir Putin (yes, i said Vladimir Putin)... i couldn’t stop laughing when i read that Huitzilo was trying to kill Putin’s daughter to instigate a war...... asdhshajdhasdjfhjdhf insane

also i know Vervain was trying to mock Huitzilo when she nicknamed him “Blue”,, but like.. that’s a really cute name and it wasn’t even insulting.. yeah, that one backfired on you Vervain... if anything, that just made it seem like she actually had affections for him and i feel like probably in part is the reason why he felt encouraged to pursue her.

THINGS I DIDN’T LIKE/THINGS THAT DIDN’T MAKE SENSE AND/OR CONFUSED ME:

the book is cringe.

it reads like a 15 year old’s fantasy AU where she’s a humble young woman, unextraordinary- yet somehow, she is the muse of every man’s desire. handsome, ripped gods who never wear clothes are laying themselves down at her feet,, and she is just overwhelmed by the choices before her; and all the while, she has to balance a complicated love life with her duty to save the world (since she’s the only one who can).

Vervain as a protagonist. idk how old she’s meant to be, but since the book is in first-person, and the reader is exposed to her innermost thoughts,, i’ve gotta say- she’s incredibly immature. as a protagonist, i just feel like she’s rude, pretentious, snobby.. she has no idea what “respect” even means. in every scene, she’s either fighting someone, or lusting after them (when Teharon told her off for having lascivious thoughts about him, and she simply responded with “well stop being so sexy then” i wanted to die.... WHAT is wrong with her)

i hate the way she looks down on the gods- even if you didn’t worship them, or even believed in their existence, surely you wouldn’t have the gall to lecture Hades and Persephone on how to be a good couple (especially when your advice is shit). surely you wouldn’t have the gall to say to Thor what Vervain says to him on pg 227, 4th line from the bottom, that i will not repeat here. Vervain is just too self-absorbed. i don’t hate her, but i definitely think her character is a bit,,, iffy.

relating to Vervain as the protagonist- everything just seems to happen to her.. and i know that she’s the protag, and things are meant to happen to her, but it all happens to her one after the other in succession, no breaks. it’s so easy for her... oh? Huitzilopochtli is going to kill Putin’s daughter? no worries, Vervain can read Huitzilopochtli’s thoughts! oh? the gods have never been able to transform more than half their body into their animal form? no worries, Vervain is so powerful she can force a god to change against their will! oh? Vervain is being attacked by blood-thirsty wolves? no worries, she saved the life of one werewolf and now he’s indebted to her and will literally kill himself in order to protect her! everything is easy, and nothing is a problem.

the way every male deity ever sees Vervain once and immediately wants to take her to bed. why was that a necessary aspect of her character? and also, why are the gods portrayed as such lustful beings?? it really wasn’t necessary.

Horus throwing a fit about how December 25 is his birthday and that it was stolen from him by Jesus... to quote:

“No big deal?” Horus puffed up. ��I was called the Lamb of God. I had twelve apostles, and my myths spoke of my crucifixion and consequent resurrection in three days. His stories were my stories first!”

it’s fine that Horus is angry about his birthday which was i think, historically celebrated around this date- but the rest of it isn’t even true???? Horus didn’t have 12 apostles, i’m pretty sure he was also not called “Lamb of God”, and he wasn’t crucified!!! aghhhh even Thor says “It’s been so long that even you don’t remember things accurately.”

anyways.. my beef with this is the way it’s phrased so as to imply that “oh christianity just stole everything from the pagans” when this is so incredibly false and sounds like something an ill-informed person would say. you can read more about christianity, paganism and christmas here

kinda related to the previous point- the jokes about Jesus’ skin colour. i quote:

“... when Christ first became a god, he looked Jewish because those were the people he chose to align himself with. However, the Jews didn’t want him, and when Christianity spread, the white people wanted Jesus to look more like them. With the change in belief, Christ’s appearance changed. ... We used to tease him about how he looked whiter every time we saw him... Kind of like Michael Jackson...”

what the FUCK??????? seems like Sumida doesn’t understand that various ethnic groups illustrate Jesus as appearing as the local people do. Yes, obviously in a Western country, Jesus is going to look European, he’s going to look white. If you go to Japan, you will see Jesus and the rest of the gang looking pretty fucking Japanese. the point of this is NOT to erase Jesus’ Jewish ethnicity, and it is certainly not because of something like “the Jews didn’t want him”- it is because it is a way for followers to better relate to the Divine. including Christ in this story isn’t the problem- i’ve seen others do it very well. the problem is how uneducated her writing comes across.

all the gods have human jobs so that they can earn money and stuff,, which is fine- Thor, for example, owns a line of boats, which makes sense. but Pan? his job is making p*rn. now even though it’s true that everyone associates Pan with sexuality and stuff,,, this isn’t his primary role, and making Pan out to be just a playboy who has his mind in the gutter 24/7 i think is a bit of a mockery. Pan is, first and foremost, a god of the Wild. why Sumida elected to make him a p*rn manufacturer and not a wildlife conservationist is beyond me... i’m not even pagan, and i thought this creative decision was distasteful and stupid, especially because his character is actually quite light-hearted and cool.

the temple scene with Huitzilopochtli and Vervain. as i said previously, i really really liked Huitzilo’s character. he made an excellent villain. but this part?? i understand why it was done, but i HATED that it had to happen... not just because it was horrible for Vervain, but Huitzilo seemed so powerful and godly right up to that point- after which he seemed pretty pathetic- going back after Vervain after she’s rejected him countless times. she is JUST a mortal!!! c’mon Huitzilo, give it up!!! you are degrading yourself at the expense of achieving one mortal’s “love”.. the fact that he had to hypnotise her to get what he wanted AND had to achieve it through her dreams (when’s she can’t protect herself) was sooooo pathetic and disgraceful.. IMO, he committed the worst sin any person could ever commit and i just... AGHHHHHHHHH SMH WHY?!

speaking of morons- Thor. Thor just comes across to me as extremely possessive, and over-protective,, and idk how Vervain was NOT creeped out by the fact that Thor had literally been stalking her for two years before she even met him. wtf? god or not- that’s creepy. actually, i think it’s creepier because he is a god.

Sif. i am still waiting for good media representation of thunder god Thor and his beautiful golden-haired wife Sif- i want them to be HAPPY, and i want them to be in love the way they should be!

Persephone. i like the idea of Persephone being sweet-tempered, and kind- but in this book, she’s such a wimp??????? she totally just lets Vervain be rude to her, a goddess who’s name means “Bringer of Destruction”. also- her relationship with Hades seems toxic.. i mean,, he like tracks her? she starts stuttering when she talks to him, and gets nervous when people so much as mention his name. not to mention the fact that Persephone says that when she does go back to him, all he demands from her is a certain horizontal dance so much so that she is “sore” (<- quoting from the book here) every time she returns??????? WHAT IS HAPPENING?????????? and no one even questions it. Vervain doesn’t even question it! instead she suggests that Persephone MOVES IN with Hades permanently???? and that Hades should just start verbally saying how much he loves Persephone instead of “showing” her how much he “loves” her.....??? there are SO many issues with this.. i can’t even- *screams*

the Aphrodite-is-madly-in-love-with-Huitzilopochtli side plot. it could have been really good, but then it ends so abruptly,,, i mean.. why’d Aphrodite get done so dirty like that? Also summary of Hephaestus’ first and final scenes:

Hephaestus, entering the room: Right, what’s all this then? Vervain: Your wife is cheating on you (again) Hephaestus: Aight, i’m out *leaves and never comes back for the rest of the book*

what the HECK was the ending with Trevor?? i hate Vervain so much i can’t... okay first of all- WHY did Trevor decide to have a wolf-marriage with Vervain?? he kept on going on about how she’s so beautiful, and kind, and caring... NO SHE ISN’T TREVOR!!! i’m so mad that he would pledge himself for all eternity to this girl who doesn’t even like him in that way!!! you played yourself son

also- Thor accepts the fact that Trevor is going to have to be close by to Vervain because the terms of the marriage state that Trevor will literally die without her touch, which is VERY GENEROUS of Thor... but Vervain?? ooooh i HATE her.. she has the audacity to look at Trevor with her lecherous eyes thinking about lustful things IN THOR’S OWN BED!!!!! and then she thinks to herself “oh whoops i shouldn’t be thinking that”- yeah you’re darn right you shouldn’t be thinking that!!!! whatttt is wrong with her.............

also- where tf did Huitzilo go??? he just gave up on trying to instigate a war and vanished?? the plot was so unresolved?????? AGH!

#also- i forgot but- the Brad Pitt looking guy on the front cover.. i thought maybe that was meant to be Ull because he's blonde but i guess #it really was Thor in the end?? but Thor in the novel has red hair so what's up with that? how disappointing #person who reviewed this and said ''Vervain's one of the best female heroines today!''- can i have some of whatever you're smoking?#she's so horrible!!! aghhhhh #review #godhunter by amy sumida #long post

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minnuet-archive · 4 years

Text

Getting Better

Rating: PG

Content Warnings: None (that I can find- let me know if you find something)

Word Count: 1,802

Fan-fiction or Original Work? Original Work

Notes: For those of you who asked to be tagged specifically in this story, please let me know if you want to be permanently added to my general tag list!

Honestly, I’m proud of some of this, and not as proud of other parts of it, but that’s alright. I apologize for the fact that I’m utterly hopeless when it comes to creating titles. I didn’t make it too different from our world apart from the fact that people aren’t utterly horrible to each other because family (and friends, I suppose) have left me a bit too exhausted for worldbuilding. I finished writing this at around 1 AM so I apologize if it’s hard to follow near the end. All of my anxiety aside, I hope you enjoy!

The world was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it. That’s what runs through my head as I watch Ms. Ngeze gestures and listen to her voice.

"Their laws were really different than ours. They didn't have guilty until proven innocent laws for officer discrimination cases and accusations. Every law was in favor of the government and police." There's a sort of pain in her eyes as she speaks— one that I've never seen before. I can't look at her. It hurts to.

2020. As I think about the things human beings have done, I'm no longer sad. I'm angry. A virus was spreading around the entire planet and a group of ass-wipes lent it a helping hand because they wanted hair cuts? Whether a murderer should be charged was controversial?

It's not even the half of it. An entire continent was on fire (and the rest of the world was soon to be as well), people were losing basic human rights in other countries, and so much more. And even after all that, it took them so long to change.

No. I’m wrong. The world was dying. But there was something they could do about it. And they didn’t.

“You alright?” I shift my gaze up to meet Ms. Ngeze’s eyes and smile lazily. She sets a piece of paper down on my desk.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how horrible people were to each other— particularly white cis-het men to everyone else. I can’t even imagine having things like what happened to George Floyd done to people like you and I. It all feels so distant, now.”

Her face softens and she speaks calmly, her voice like honey. “It does, doesn’t it?” I don't think she's being honest as she agrees with me, but I don't mention it.

“Yeah. I’m really thankful we can say it feels distant, too. I couldn’t imagine the human race surviving if we had stayed that ignorant and terrible.”

At this, she laughs. “Me either.” After passing out papers to the rest of my row and the class, she walks back up to the front of the classroom.

“Alright, everyone! I know it was upsetting and a little bit hard to hear today’s lesson, but I hope you feel satisfied with what you learned. If you have any questions about your homework or need an extension for any reason, send me an email or come in during homeroom. I’m here all day,” She glances at the clock a moment before the bell rings. “Bye, everyone! Have a nice day!”

Everyone in class stands up to leave, shouting their ‘have a nice day’s and ‘see you tomorrow’s.

I walk down the hall, smiling and waving at friends as I go along. I eventually find my spot in the quad and set my things down on the grass softly. Asa can’t handle loud noises.

Malee looks up from her book. ‘Hey, Hugo,’ she signs.

‘Hey,’ I respond. I sit down next to her and turn to smile at Asa.

They don't smile back, and my own smile fades a bit. “It’s alright. You want to use your phone to talk or do you just want to hang out?”

They shrug and grumble lightly and unintelligibly. I just touch the top of their hand lightly before opening my backpack. “How about we read a little bit?” I pull out my headphones and they pull theirs out, too.

I pull out my phone and open up an audiobook, handing it to Asa so they can play and pause it as they please.

Their current special interest is energy and I’m honestly finding it really interesting. Regardless of whether or not their special interests are "useful", they’re always interesting. Asa’s interesting.

One of the coolest and most surprising things I learned was that 99.999999999999% of the world is empty space between particles, but energy binds it all together. Zero-point energy, to be exact.

As we listen to the quotes of several physicists and engineers, they often pause the book and tell me facts or stories that certain words or phrases remind them of. But not on days like today. And that’s okay.

Listening to audiobooks and eating red bean cakes with Asa is just as lovely as talking to them. They slip their hand into mine and I smile. It’s more than enough for me to understand.

As a soft melody begins to play from the school speakers, I look over at Asa. They nod and we know that it’s three minutes until the bell rings. The music is one of our favorite things schools have implemented to help neurodivergent people. It can help ease them into the transitions from one thing to another, and I love it.

The two of us— who had both been laying on the grass— sit up, and I lean toward Malee, tapping her on the shoulder lightly.

‘Hey. You should start packing up. It’s a minute to the bell,’ I sign.

She nods and gives me a thumbs up before signing, ‘Okay, cool. Thanks for the heads up.’

I nod and begin to pack my things up. When I’m finished, the bell is about to ring. I look at Asa, who seems to have recharged a little.

“You doing any better?” I ask in a soft voice.

They shrug yet again and speak quietly. “I guess.” Their voice cracks from not having been used for over half an hour.

I smile at them and take their hand in mind for a moment, tracing my thumb in a circle over the top of their hand. I look them in the eyes and speak quietly. “I’ll see you after school. I love you.”

Asa nods, and I glance over at Mali who’s standing up with their binder in arm, ready to go. I wave goodbye to Asa and walk toward Mali. The two of us make our way toward the gym.

We sit down for a few minutes and chat about classes and family before Coach Min does roll call.

When Coach Min looks up at me, I smile. She grins back at me. “Hey, kid.”

“Hello!” I respond with a small wave as she goes back to taking roll.

As she moves down the rows, I don't go back to talking with Malee. My mind wanders back to today's history lesson.

It was so different. People were forced into such horrible situations. I bet they didn't learn sign language in school like we do.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and snap my head toward Malee. She cocks her head. 'Hugo? What are you thinking about?'

I shrug and sign back. 'Just the world. We learned about 2020 in history today and it just made me so mad.'

Nodding her head, she begins to sign. 'The world was a mess, but it was angry at itself for being a mess. It took longer than it should have, but people fixed the way the did things. We're okay now.'

Coach Min calls for us to get in a line for instructions, and we do.

I fling my hands forward in pure annoyance before regaining myself and signing back. 'Sorry. I just don't think it's okay. It was a race to the bottom— to being the dirtiest— and no one batted an eye at participating. I hate that we dismiss it so easily now that it's over. It's not even over yet! There are still bad people.'

'That's true. Bad people still exist; they always will. But we know how to deal with them, now,' she retorts. 'We know not to listen to them. Things aren't completely perfect. They never will be. The human species is a flawed one. But we'll keep learning how to be better. There will keep being setbacks and obstacles and we'll keep overcoming them.'

'But what if we get worse again? What if we repeat history again?' I want to scream. Malee's right, but she isn't seeing my side.

'We won't repeat history again. We stopped repeating history when we started actually teaching history— our full history. Look at us, Hugo!' She flails her arms in an effort to emphasize. “Schools and jobs are working to accommodate everyone. The majority of the population treats people of different races, sexualities, and genders with the exact same amount of respect. That wasn't true in 2020. Yeah, there are still assholes. But we'll keep growing. We'll keep getting better.'

I sigh and roll my eyes. 'Why are you so good with words? It's not fair.'

She giggles and smiles her wide smile.

"Hugo. Malee. Please."

Looking over at Coach Min, I smile sheepishly. "Sorry."

We shift our focus to her and listen as she finishes speaking. "Okay, so those are all of your options today. If for one reason or another you have a disability and haven't discussed it with me, or if you have discussed it with me and are having a rough day, come talk to me now. I'll find something fun for you to do."

The entirety of the class runs toward the back wall of the gym where sports equipment was sitting in baskets. A few people follow Coach Min as she walked toward her office.

'You can choose what we do today. I chose on our last free day.'

Malee's eyes light up like a gasoline-fueled fire and she signs at a speed that’s almost too fast for me to read. 'Can we do volleyball? We don't have to play with the others, but I'd love to at least bump and set the ball back and forth with you!'

I grin; her smile is contagious. 'Of course!' We walk toward the wall where everyone else already is and grab a deep violet ball from one of the baskets.

Volleyball isn't really played anymore, but when it became one of Asa's special interests, we all heard about it a lot, and Malee fell in love with it. Now we play it a lot, even though we don't have volleyballs themselves.

Passing the ball back and forth, I can't help but think of what Malee said. We have changed a lot. We have gotten better.

I hope we'll keep doing that. Getting better.

Tag List: @sunandshinee @writingamongthecoloredroses @ettawritesnstudies @rhycantspell @just-perhaps @abalonetea @monstrouswrites @magic-is-something-we-create @antisocialdragonenby @etddivine @lordfenric @medusaswrites @adaparkwrites @cadewrites @uptown-worm @holdup-pause @grewsolow @gaydemiboy @sautrns @mshelleys @heyhelloitsk @sprigofbasil @gotchaocha @albatris @sondials @starlitpromises-writings @19bottlesofdishsoap @solicitous-lyo @aghostwritesforme @voutraixmont @violetcancerian

#vioaeon #verbose #userfritz #murdereddarlings #writing #mine

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thestarwrites · 3 years

Text

ALL RIGHT, ALL MIGHT: CH. 1

Word Count: 1,720

Rating: PG (mention of something filthy)

Painting: Toshinori Yagi X FemOC

The UA Guidance Counselor, a quirk user with Pathokenesis, is shocked to find out her personal hero All Might is coming to be a teacher. The road they walk as a parallel starts to merge and there’s no telling what could happen.

------------

CHAPTER ONE: BIRTHDAYS

Typing on her computer, Keri Chairo worked on updating a few student’s files, getting ready for the summer break. Humming softly, she was interrupted by the placement of a cupcake on the desk- turning her head, happy to see Midnight there, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PATHO!!!” She wrapped her arms around Keri’s neck and she grinned, “Oh our young hero is growing up, Aizawa!” Keri blushed furiously and coughed, “My birthday isn’t until Saturday, Nemuri—“

Midnight just laughed and pinched her cheek, “Yeah but you’re SO cute when you’re all flustered!!”

Aizawa chuckled, “Okay come on Midnight we want her to come back in the fall... why don’t you save your affections for tomorrow?”

Looking back toward him, Keri blinked, “What’s tomorrow?”

“Oh, we have to quote, unquote,” he made the motion with his fingers, “Talk to the new teacher starting in the fall about how we run things around here. No ones supposed to know he’s here.”

Midnight clasped her hands together and fawned softly, “Such a good reason to save my affections…”

“Know that... who’s here?” Keri looked to him.

Aizawa pulled his hair back into a ponytail, “All Might.”

Gasping and almost falling backwards out of her computer chair Keri remained quiet as Midnight laughed. She couldn’t help but grin wildly as she felt the other woman’s quirk creep into her, “Ooh Aizawa- I think someone has a crush on All Might—“

“Who doesn’t have a crush on All Might.” He grunted, annoyed, “Curb your fan girl feelings please, Patho. I have a class to teach.”

She flushed harder and nodded, her forehead slowly stopping its glow, “Oh god- I’m so sorry Aizawa.”

“It’s also his birthday on Sunday!” Midnight chirped, “So if you wanted to start off in a good foot... maybe you should get him a present! Oh my gosh! Your birthday is Saturday, Keri! You and All Might are practically birthday twins!” Clapping she hummed softly into her ear, “I can help you with what an older man like All Might would like—“

Keri put her hands up between her ear and Midnight, face scarlet red, “I don’t want to know what you’re going to say! Just- I’ll be here working anyway it’s not like I’ll see him! I’m just the guidance counselor!”

Raising an eyebrow Aizawa groaned, “Well, Keri, he’s going to be our coworker now so... you’re going to have to try and compose yourself and work with him.

She started to protest, “Aizawa I’m a professional—“

He just cut her off, “Now blow out your candle, and make a wish, lunch is almost over.”

She leaned in and blew out the candle and turned, bowing, “Thank you Eraser, Midnight... it means a lot to me that you remembered my birthday... I’m truly grateful, and I’m happy for your friendship.” Smiling at them they both gave her a warm smile in return. They each hugged her (some more than others) and waved before going back to their classrooms.

Keri sighed and pushed her long hair back. It was shaved on one side, down to her mid hack on the other, “Im so lucky to have such nice coworkers. I’m so lucky I get to be friends with such famous heroes.” She smiled and pushed the candle-crowned cupcake to the side for now to keep typing.

—————————

A few hours went by, she’d had some counseling appointments that went relatively well. And as she was winding down for the end of the day, thinking a little more about Midnight’s proposal for what an older man would like when— suddenly—

“EXCUSE ME?” A booming voice sounded behind her, “IS THIS WHERE I CAN FIND PRINCIPAL NEZU?”

She felt the color drain from her face as she realized who was behind her. Turning in her chair she saw him- he was in civilian clothes- he wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow???

When she didn’t answer, and only stared, he cleared his throat, “ARE YOU ALRIGHT MISS?”

“Y-yes.” Keri nodded, “Yes! I’m fine- my apologies, sir. Lost in my head- Um, Principa —”

“HA HA HA! SIR, YOU DON’T HAVE TO CALL ME SIR!” She felt panic bubble up in her chest, he was approaching her now- holding out his hand, “TOSHINORI IS THE NAME. YOU MUST BE PATHO- THE SUPORT HERO!”

The next thing she knew, she was shaking hands with All Might himself, and his name was Toshinori- what a beautiful name— And he knows her, “You- you know /me/?”

Another booming laugh came from his mouth, kids began to look in through the window in the door, chattering that All Might was here, “OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YOU HAVE THE UNCANNY ABILITY TO KEEP PEOPLE CALM! YOU’VE BEEN STATIONED AT A FEW OF MY CRIME SCENES!”

“Well -yeah... I have... I just.... didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

His grin faded into a sincere smile, leaning a little too close for comfort, “Every one of us in this school is a hero, besides why wouldn’t I notice when someone comes to help?”

A deep shaky breath was her first response, and then she put a composed smile on her face, “My name is Keri, by the way. It’s an honor to meet you, Toshinori.”

“The honor is mine! It’s really very nice to meet you instead of watching you work from afar- your quirk is fascinating!” He nodded and as she tried to come up with something else to say, All Might pointed toward the cupcake Midnight and Eraser head had given her, “Hey- is today your birthday?”

Biting her lip she shook her head, “Oh no— Saturday is my birthday. Aizawa and Nemuri remembered a little early…”

He beamed, “SUNDAY IS MY BIRTHDAY, WERE PRACTICALLY BIRTHDAY TWINS!”

Keri couldn’t help the blush that crept to her cheeks as she smiled brightly, his childlike enthusiasm was infectious., “Happy early birthday then, All Might.”

“Happy early birthday to you, Miss Keri.” He smiled again.

Taking another deep breath, less shaky this time, she finally shook the shock of being In the presence of her personal hero. Clearing her throat, she began, “By the way— Principal Nezu’s office is down the hall- this is the guidance office. Aizawa told me you would be here tomorrow, not today.”

He chuckled, “Tomorrow I’m going to be discussing some things with the other teachers during a lunch meeting... “ he turned around, seeing the hall finally cleared, “But I’m meeting with Nezu today, to discuss my employment here this fall... so I guess you and I will be coworkers here as well as on the field of battle!”

Smiling brighter, Keri nodded, “Well it’s an honor.” She smiled demurely, “You’re my favorite hero- don’t tell any of the others, they might get jealous.”

Toshinori laughed softly and finally sat down beside her, his large form dwarfing the chair he sat in that was normally reserved for students, “So I suppose I should give you a preview of what the other teachers will know tomorrow.”

“That’s ominous.” She hummed softly as he laughed again.

“This is probably going to be alarming. But please, don’t panic,“ suddenly steam started coming from his body and the woman gasped as suddenly seated in front of her was an emaciated version of Japan’s number one hero.

Blinking a few times she looked confused, “Wait what.”

Biting his lip, he reached up to push some of his hair back, “So... you know how like... guys at the pool suck in their gut and flex? To look all buff? I’m... like that. But I can only do it for so many hours a day so the staff here has to know so they can help me keep the secret.”

“But... have you... always.... uh—“ she didn’t know how to express the bizarre way she felt seeing him like this. She was confused, sure, but more than that she felt... lucky. Lucky to see him like this- to be let into a secret. Suddenly she felt more inspired by him, she felt proud that someone like him would be so brave to fight— and he touched his chest softly with a smile.

“Is this what pros on the field say your quirk feels like? I feel... inspired.” His smile was warm.

“Shit—“ She put one hand on her forehead, feeling the heat from the pink diamond, “I’m so sorry! Im all over the place today, I’m usually more in control.”

He put his hand over hers on the arm rest, “Don’t worry, Patho, it’s fine! And to answer your question-“ he pulled back and took a breath, “I was in a fight that I almost lost- about five years ago- it left me with one lung and most of my stomach removed.”

“All Might— I — I remember you were away for a while but… Toshinori, that’s… So brave.”

He cleared his throat, a faint blush on his cheeks, “I made sure the world never knew... only a few people know. And now you know.” He smiled a little, sadly, “So I’m counting on your help to keep my secret, hm?”

“I won’t let you down,” she felt he was more like a normal man than he wanted to admit. Reaching to put her hand over his this time, she smiled, “Were going to be coworkers, right? We have to stick together! Besides- at least thanks to you I won’t be the newbie anymore.” Her small smile turned into a smirk.

He grinned, “I can see why Nezu trusts you, Patho. I look forward to us working together to help mold the heroes of the future-“ With an audible POOF suddenly a big muscled All Might was in front of you, “NOW I HAVE FO GO FIND PRINCIPAL NEZU. MAYBE WE CAN GO TO LUNCH SOMETIME— SO UH— YOU CAN TELL ME HOW THIS LOT HAZES THEIR NEW TEACHERS!” Suddenly he wrote out his number on a piece of paper, “HERE IS MY NUMBER! MAKE SURE TO TEXT ME YOURS.”

Keri blushed and smiled, “Keep it down, hm? You’re going to let the whole school know you’re here, Toshinori.”

“YES... YOU’RE PROBABLY RIGHT... I’LL SEE YOU AROUND.”

And with that, All Might left the guidance office, and Keri snatched up the paper. Tears spilled over her eyes and she quickly wiped them away, “He really is amazing…”

#all might #toshinori x oc #toshinori yagi #my hero academy fanfiction #all might x oc

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years

Text

Favorite Things

Captain Magnum x gender neutral!reader

@rattyships ty for the request!

A/N: YES the title is a quote, YES it's from That One Song™, YES I based this fic off of that idea, leave me alone. Uh... Christmas. Yeah. Captain Magnum seems way too calm in this fic for my own liking, but y'know. Reader can paint even though I am physically unable to, so. There's that. Fluffy. Rated PG because there's one two "hell"s and one "damn" and that's it. It's cheesy and that's why it's great.

Word Count: 2.0k

You paced around your cabin, very anxious. Christmas was in three days! What were you supposed to get everyone? You didn't know what anyone liked! Or that they even celebrated…

Well, who says no to a gift, right?

You went over to your secret chest (nobody on that damn ship knew how to share) and opened it up to see how much treasure you had. Not much, but it was there. You could buy a lot in normal markets with these. Maybe you could convince the Captain to take you back home for the holidays?

Well, you never know until you try, right?

But what would you buy? They have quite enough gold and jewels, none of them seem to have any interest in anything, you doubted they'd like something homemade…

This was gonna be difficult.

You sighed and closed your chest, walking over to your door. You opened it to find said Captain standing there, the rest of the crew behind him.

"Hi, Captain," you blinked in surprise. You probably should have been more confused than you were, but this boat was already super weird. He was smiling at you.

"Mornin', first mate!" He greeted. "We found a treasure map on a ship we were lootin'. We're about t' start searchin' fer treasure!"

"Oh. Alright. Gimme a minute," you smiled and closed the door. You sighed and rested your back on the door. Maybe you could find something on the island to give them…?

"Yeah, they'll love a nice flower crown…" You snorted at your own idea. You sighed and grabbed up your stuff, opening your door and walking over to the crew. They were all talking about how they couldn't wait to find more treasure. You rolled your eyes. Don't they have enough of it? You took a head count of how many of them there were. Five… five crewmates, five presents. Captain Magnum noticed you and smiled.

"Thar ye be! I thought ye would lock yourself in yer cabin th' whole day!" He, along with the rest of the crew, laughed. You smiled saltily. "Wha' were ye doin' in thar?" You looked around, trying to come up with something.

"Um… I was… I was…" you looked out onto the horizon for a moment, your eyes softening. The crew looked at you.

"Y/N?" One of them called to you. "Are ye-"

"Painting," you interrupted.

"What?" Magnum asked.

"I was… painting…" you looked back to them. They all stared at you for a minute.

"You… you paint?" One woman asked. You smiled and nodded at her. All of the crewmates looked at each other for a minute.

"Uh… wha' d' ye paint?" The other woman asked. You shrugged.

"Whatever, really. Animals, landscapes, whatever's in my room…" you looked over at Captain Magnum to make sure this was okay. He sighed and plopped himself down on a stair. You smiled and turned back to the group.

You explained painting to the crew for 15 minutes. You had no idea they'd be so interested in your hobby. They asked so many questions, some of which you'd somehow never heard. How long had these people been at sea?

Eventually, you looked over to see Captain Magnum looking impatiently at the island the ship landed at 10 minutes ago. You chuckled at him and stood up.

"Captain's getting a bit annoyed, guys. Let's go," the crew complained, but got off of the ship as you walked over to the Captain. He raised an eyebrow at you and you mimicked the action.

"They find ye mighty interestin'," he commented. You smiled.

"Yeah. Not more than you though. I doubt anything could be more interesting than those logs you have for legs." You both looked at each other for a moment before laughing. He stood and you both followed the crew off of the ship.

He lead the way to where the treasure was, the rest of you trailing close behind. One of the crewmates, a boy who looked no older than twenty-one, took your arm. You raised both eyebrows and looked at him.

"So… wha' were ye sayin' about watercolors?" He asked softly. You smiled as the other crew members gathered around you again. You looked up at Captain Magnum, who was smiling at you all. He chuckled and turned back around, continuing to lead the way. You sighed.

"Alright… so watercolor is probably one of the most well-known types of paint…"

You had found treasure on the island, and most of the crewmates became interested in that, but the boy who has asked you about watercolors stayed as you explained how people originally made paints from flowers. You saw the curious look in his eyes, and decided what you were gonna get everyone for Christmas.

You were gonna paint for them.

What, you weren't sure. But you sure as hell were gonna paint. Maybe… their favorite animals? Or maybe an object they really liked…

You decided to ask them what they liked.

The woman with the bandana really liked sea creatures. Specifically, narwhals. They were very pretty and could also impale people. She liked that about them. You didn't think she noticed you scribbling everything she said into a small notebook.

The woman with the eyepatch really liked swords. She knew a lot about them; names, origins, uses… it was slightly unnerving, but you couldn't judge.

The boy liked plants. He liked the fact that they were living beings, just like people and animals. Only, they were smaller and couldn't talk. They could, however, feel. And he liked that. You couldn't get over how soft he was…

The man who was first mate before you liked… hats. He liked that they all basically had the same function, but looked so different. You could respect that. Hats were very cool.

The next day, you decided to paint them pictures of their favorite things in their respective color schemes, and added a different color for each background. A blue and white narwhal with a green background, a red and black sword with a navy blue background, a black and orange flower with a dark green background, and a brown and maroon hat with a pastel red background (no, not pink. There's a difference). You spent an entire day painting the pictures. They turned out very well, in your opinion. You just hoped the crew felt the same.

After you were finished with those, you asked Captain Magnum what his favorite thing was. He thought for a moment, stroking his beard.

"Well… I suppose it'd be treasure!" He answered. You knitted your eyebrows together.

"Really? Treasure?" You asked, hoping for something more.

"O' course, treasure! I be a pirate aft all! Wha' would I like if it nah be treasure?" You sighed in slight disappointment. You thought that you would find something new about him but, nope. He loves treasure the most. You nodded and turned around.

"Well, that or ye." You stopped dead in your tracks. Did you hear that right? You slowly turned back towards him. He looked away from you, towards the horizon. The setting sun illuminated his face, tinting it orange, pink, and yellow. He looked like he was ripped right from a movie...

"What was that?" You asked, slightly distracted by how beautiful he looked.

"Treasure be a pirate's fav'rit thin' o' course. But, since ye showed up... I reckon me fav'rit "thin'" be me first mate. Ye." He said nonchalantly. A small smile creeped onto your face. Magnum looked at you, since you hadn't said anything in a while.

"So, you're saying… you love me?" You asked, fishing for compliments. Magnum flushed a bit. It was mostly hidden due to the sun, but you could still see.

"Well… er…" He scratched the back on his head, thinking of how to respond.

"Cause that's what I'm hearing here…"

"Um…"

"Exactly how much do you love me, Captain?" You smirked, leaning on the side of the ship, your cheek in your palm. Magnum finally took a deep breath and looked in your eyes.

"More than all th' treasure in all th' seven seas…" he stated. Your eyes widened as your smirk fell. You felt your face heat up and you turned away from him.

"Well, uh…" you coughed, "I should… get to bed… wanna be up early tomorrow, so…" you shuffled away.

"First Mate Y/N!" He called. You turned back towards him.

"Merry Christmas." He said. You smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Captain."

You walked into the deck, the crew already gathered. You figured Magnum must've gotten them. You took a deep breath and walked over, the paintings in your arms. The crew all waved and greeted you. You smiled and stood in front of them.

"So, uh… it's Christmas as you may or may not know…" you explained nervously. "So, um… I decided that, as gifts, I was going to paint for you all… and these were the results." You move forward and pass out all the works you painted. All of the crew seemed happy with their pictures. They showed them to each other and gawked over the detail and bragged about how good they looked. You finally walked up to Magnum, who was steering. You held out a painting to him.

"Wha', fer me?" He raised his eyebrows and took the picture. It was of a red, blue, yellow, and black ship with a sunset in the background and sparkling green and blue waves. The words "a pirate's life for me" were written on the back. He laughed heartily and pulled you into a hug.

"Oh, ye really outdid yourself, mate! 'tis wonderful!" He complimented. You managed to pull yourself out of the hug after a minute or two and handed him an envelope. He looked over at the rest of the crew and, upon seeing that no one else had one, tilted his head a bit.

"It's from her," You explained, pointing. Magnum nodded and looked over at the woman who was showing off her narwhal. She glanced at the Captain and winked as the boy with the flower painting giggled. Magnum plopped down onto a step, but you stayed standing. He opened the envelope to reveal a card. On the inside, it said "This thing you two have is special, more special than anything I could try to get. I can, however, make you realize exactly what you have". You frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked. Magnum shrugged and gave you the envelope. You looked inside, seeing something green. You took it out and your eyes widened.

Mistletoe.

Mistletoe?

Where the hell did they find mistletoe?!

You looked at Captain Magnum, who was staring at you. He raised both eyebrows at the plant in your hand. You were holding it between you two accidentally (on purpose).

"We don't 'ave t' if ye don't wants t'..." He told you. You took a deep breath, telling yourself to stop being so weird about it because you knew he loved you back. Besides, the crew had all left to put their gifts in their rooms. You leaned down, since he was sitting, and softly connected your lips. He sat there for a moment, eyes wide, before closing them. You both stayed like that for a few seconds before you pulled away all too soon. His eyes looked hazy as you smiled.

"Merry Christmas." You whispered and walked to your room, leaving Magnum to process what happened.

You entered your room and leaned your back on the door, smiling widely.

"Well, that was the best Christmas present ever…" you mumbled to yourself. You started to giggle as you continued to think about it. You put your hands on your face in embarrassment. It was only a couple seconds, why were you being so weird? You jumped a bit when you heard a gentle knock at your door. You turned around and tilted your head. Who could that be? It was getting late and the crew had already shown their appreciation…

Unless…

You opened the door to reveal, you guessed it, Captain Magnum. He was holding the mistletoe you had left on the deck. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He smiled.

"Do ye... Uh... Wanna do that again?" He asked sheepishly. You laughed a bit before smiling up at him.

"Absolutely."

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westallenfun · 3 years

Text

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 2

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Chapters: 2/7

Chapter Two

Iris squinted at the glare of the sun reflecting off the fallen snow, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and sliding them on before grabbing the handle of her suitcase and giving it a tug. It had been a long journey, but she was finally home, arriving just in time for the holidays. Her father was supposed to pick her up, but she’d jumped at the opportunity to take an earlier flight than originally scheduled. It would make a tremendous surprise for him, she decided upon landing, and so she walked purposefully toward the taxi station, rather than calling to update him on her change of plans.

The drive didn’t take long, but she still needed to stretch some kinks out of her muscles when she stepped out of the car and fixed the Allen house with a critical eye. It looked almost exactly as it had in her memory, though it appeared someone had affixed the shutters with a new coat of paint at some point in the three years since she’d last stood in this spot. She’d missed this place, she realized, as well as all the people who worked there. Not to mention Eddie. She could never forget how much she’d missed Eddie.

But Eddie wasn’t her primary concern at the moment. She ran a hand down the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. She wanted to look her best for her first meeting with her dad. Of course, they’d seen each other numerous times over the last three years. He’d come to visit her at school, and they Facetimed at least once a week. But this was her first time coming home as a college graduate – and an adult woman who had proved herself capable of running her own life. She wanted to make him proud.

Thanking the driver, she passed him a tip before grabbing her bag, pulling it behind her as she approached the house. It was rather heavy, so she pulled it to the side of the house, where it would be out of the way until she could retrieve it later. Then she stepped indoors on a quest to find her father.

Knowing he often stopped by the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, she decided to head in that direction first. On the way, she heard the clattering of balls knocking together in the game room and peered in on her way past, curious to know who was inside. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught her first glimpse of Eddie, his tousled blond hair falling expertly across his forehead as he leaned over to line up his cue stick with the ball. As though sensing her presence in the doorway, he glanced up and straightened abruptly at the sight of her, his eyes growing wide.

“Wow. I mean, hi,” he greeted her with that boyish grin that had captured her heart so many years before.

Feeling a little shy, as she always did in his presence, she threw him a small smile. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I was just looking for someone.”

“Whoever it is, I’m happy to pretend I’m him if it means you stick around,” he reassured her hastily, setting his pool cue aside.

The obviousness of his pickup line, combined with the headiness that his attention was focused on her for a change and the astonishment that he didn’t seem to recognize her, made her laugh. “I’m afraid not,” she said, pulling off her sunglasses so she could get a better look at him. How could he not know her? Granted, it had been a few years, but they’d grown up together, and she didn’t think she’d changed that much.

But still, while she was a little disappointed in his continued ignorance of her identity, she was warmed by the gaze he swept over her body. “Let me guess…you’re looking for Barry. He’s always had all the luck. Well, today is also your lucky day because he happens to be my brother. So I’m pretty much the same thing, right?”

As he teased her, he threw her another one of his devastating grins, prompting her to laugh again. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. As tempted as she was to linger and bask in the glow of his flirtation, she couldn’t wait to see her dad, so she took a step back, intending to walk away.

Eddie wasn’t content to let her go, as he bounded after her. Taking position by her side, he walked with her as he chided her gently, “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh? And here I was, hoping we could get to know each other better.”

Iris threw him a wry look out of the corner of her eye. “Really? And here I was, thinking you just liked the chase but you wouldn’t know what to do with me if you caught me.”

“That is categorically untrue!” he protested, feigning offense. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand gently, and Iris thrilled in the warmth of his touch. “But, you know, I won’t be able to prove that to you if you don’t let me catch you.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded, humoring him. Then, succumbing to curiosity, she pressed, “You really don’t recognize me?”

She knew full well that Eddie wasn’t a good enough actor to feign the surprise that crossed his features. “Why? Should I? I can’t imagine we’ve ever met. I’d definitely remember you.”

“You might be surprised,” she returned in a dry tone.

Eddie might have lost the battle, but he wasn’t about to concede the war. Instead, he pressed, “Well, that’s all the more reason for you to give me a chance. I tell you what. We’re having a Christmas party here tonight at eight o’clock. Say you’ll come. We can catch up on old times, just the two of us.”

Chuckling, Iris shook her head. “You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, secretly pleased with his efforts. After all these years, he’d finally noticed her. He was finally chasing after her. Perhaps it was small of her to revel in their altered circumstances, but recognizing that fact did nothing to change it.

“Nope,” he replied with a shameless grin.

Iris nodded. “All right. I’ll see you tonight. Eight o’clock.” His display of elation at her agreement didn’t even come close to that which she secretly felt. She managed to hide her smile until she walked away and turned a corner. Then it was all she could do to bite back her shriek of joy. It was all she’d ever hoped for, catching Eddie’s eye, and the reality was so far better than she’d even imagined.

That night, Iris gave her reflection one more critical look before leaving her room and heading to the party. Her dad had been overjoyed to see her, but his happiness had been diminished slightly when he’d heard about her interaction with Eddie. She knew he was just worried about her; he’d never approved of her attachment to the younger Allen son. Though he loved the family and would give his life for any of them, he’d confessed he didn’t think Eddie was good enough for her, but she’d always dismissed his opinion as being clouded by paternal affection and a life-long overprotective streak.

His concern did nothing to diminish her excitement, and so she’d shrugged it off as she’d dressed into one of her favorite gowns, obtained during her studies abroad. Floor-length and deep red in color, it was strapless, with a chiffon skirt and beaded top with a sweetheart neckline. It was the perfect dress for a holiday party, and – more importantly – she knew it would draw Eddie’s eye.

She was almost skipping with joy as she walked into the party, her eyes sweeping over the crowd looking for one face in particular. But it wasn’t Eddie who caught her eye first; it was Bartholomew. Tall and lanky – and able to wear a tuxedo like he was born into it, even more than his brother (though it seemed traitorous of her to think so) – he’d always stood out from a crowd. She’d recognize him anywhere, even when his back was to her as it was now. She watched as the tall redhead before him said something to him, nodding toward Iris in the doorway. He turned to follow her gaze, his face breaking into a heart-warming smile when he caught sight of Iris.

She watched as he said something to his companion and then raced toward her, stopping barely a foot away. For just a moment, she thought he was going to pull her into a hug, but he didn’t. Instead, he smiled at her warmly and cried, “Iris! You’re home? Why didn’t you come by and say hi? How was your trip?”

Before she could answer, Eddie appeared as though out of nowhere, stepping in front of his brother. “You came!” he said gleefully. “I wasn’t sure you would.” When Bartholomew cleared his throat, Eddie stepped to the side and looked at his brother in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I – wait, do you two know each other?”

Bartholomew looked at his brother in confusion and concern. “You’re kidding, right? It’s Iris.” When Eddie didn’t seem to register the name, he prodded, “West? Joe’s daughter?”

Eddie’s head whipped around in surprise. “What, really? Iris?” As his gaze swept over her again, understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh my god, it’s so good to have you back! Now you really have to dance with me. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and started to pull her away, and she was more than happy to follow, but his brother intervened. Clearing his throat, he moved slightly into Eddie’s path and cautioned him, “Is this really a good idea? How is Patty—”

Eddie cut him off. “Barry, I know that you excel at being a stick-in-the-mud, and you’re twenty-five going on eighty. But it’s a party! Surely you can go bore someone else? Iris just got here.” It was the first time in her entire life that she could recall being so taken aback by or disagreed with Eddie’s behavior, and when he grabbed her hand to pull her onto the dance floor, she hung back. Finally, her reluctance seemed to get through to him, because he stopped to ask her what wrong.

“I know he’s your brother, and the two of you…well, you don’t always get along. But that was unfair. He a little serious, but he isn’t a bad guy,” she reprimanded him gently.

He grimaced. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He gave her another one of his boyish grins, which had gotten him out of trouble over his entire life. “I’ll apologize to him later, too. But for right now, I really do want to dance with you.”

Iris almost protested, but then she was in his arms and he was sweeping her around the dance floor, and it was better than she’d ever dreamed. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, barely noticing when the song changed to something soft and slow and he pulled her closer, tempting her to rest her head on his shoulder.

“You know what I want?” he murmured in her ear. “I want to dance with you.”

“You are dancing with me,” she shot back with a slight laugh.

His grin was unrepentant. “I want to dance with you alone. It’s too public here; we can’t really talk.” Then, as though the idea had just occurred to him, he added, “Hey, there’s something you should see.”

She’d seen him pick up enough women that she knew what he was about to suggest. He was going to suggest that she meet him in his mother’s solarium. He would meet her there with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and they would dance under the twinkling lights that were undoubtedly strung along the ceiling in observance of the upcoming holiday. While they danced, he would woo her with his words, and then they would kiss. Just because it was a scene she knew had played out dozens of times didn’t means she didn’t want to be a part of it.

“Okay,” she breathed, swaying toward him.

“Meet me in my mom’s solarium?” He paused, grimacing, as he realized that she wasn’t like most of the women he courted in this manner. “Oh, I just realized…you’ve probably already seen my mom’s solarium, huh?”

Afraid this hitch in his plans would cause him to grow skittish, she reassured him, “But I haven’t seen it in years! Will you show it to me?”

“I’d love to.” He danced her closer to the exit and came to a stop, though he didn’t immediately release her. “Head over, and I’ll follow you in a minute. I want to grab a bottle of champagne first.”

“Sure,” she breathed, watching with a wistful smile as he stepped away. The entire stroll to the solarium, she felt like she was walking on air.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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gvbejvmes · 3 years

Text

Drabble: The Present

Title: Fridays with CeCe Rating: PG-13 Characters: Gabriel James-Michaels, Bella James-Michaels, Constance James, Miss Alison, Andrew James, Maxxie Turner, Jonathan James-Michaels (mentioned), Velvet Starr (mentioned), Tommy “Kid” Kidderro (mentioned) Relationship: Implied Gabriel James-Michaels/Jonathan James-Michaels, Andrew James/Maxxie Turner, past Andrew James/Velvet Starr Warnings: Implied drug use and child endangerment, mentions of canon murder and incorrect medical diagnoses Summary: Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services.

Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services. She called it her ‘CeCe Day.’ He or Jay would take her down there, and she would bounce excitedly in their arms as she told them about all the things she wanted to do while she was there. It was always on a Friday, and it was always four hours in the morning. When they picked her up, she would either chatter on and on at 100mph about what she and her CeCe had done or she would be mopey because her CeCe showed up late or forgot about their playdate. Mostly she loved Playdate Days. Gabe, on the other hand, despised them.

While he and Johnny called them ‘Playdate Days,’ they’d never actually explained to Bella what they were. They would when she was older, but for now, she was too young to understand. All she knew was that her Mommy’s name was CeCe (well, Constance, but she chose to call her CeCe), and she had a standing playdate with her every other Friday. She never asked why it was always in the same room. And she never asked why Miss Alison, their caseworker, was always there. She only knew that she only got to see CeCe in a certain place at a certain time - the specifics didn’t bother her yet. Bella was three months old when Gabe got the call from social services asking if he could take custody of his granddaughter; she didn’t know any other life than this one.

Like most ‘Playdate Days,’ Gabe arrived a half hour early to pick Bella up. He didn’t know why he did it. Sometimes it was because he was already in the area and didn’t want to stray too far away. Other times it was because he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Today it was a combination of the two. He still needed to go to the art store to pick up a couple of brushes he had custom ordered, but something in his gut had told him to stop by the social services building first.

Instead of going in right away and sitting in the waiting room, he went around to the back of the building to the designated smoking area first - and that was when he saw her.

Constance James was skinny in a way that didn’t look natural. She had definition around her collarbone and chest that reminded Gabe of bird bones. It was like her body didn’t know how to retain fat or muscle tissue on that part of her body. She almost looked concave, but Gabe wouldn’t go quite that far. Her skin didn’t sit quite right on her bones - like she’d lost weight too quickly and her skin tried to conform to her body, but failed. It didn’t hang, but it didn’t look entirely normal either.

Her long blonde hair was streaked with black dye and was pulled back into a severe ponytail at the crown of her head. A cigarette was dangling from her lips as she texted rapidly on her phone. Her nails were short, and the cuticles looked picked at. Chipped nail polish caught the sunlight as her fingers moved across the screen.

She must have seen him approach because she suddenly groaned and put her phone away. “Did they call you?” She asked as she pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. Her foot was pressed against the side of the building, which made Gabe think of a flamingo for some reason.

“Should they have called me, Connie?” He asked his daughter as he pulled out his own cigarette and lit up. He leaned against the wall near her, knowing better by now than to try to have direct eye contact with his estranged daughter.

She shrugged and took a long drag of her cigarette. She looked better than the last time he had seen her. A lot of the time she ducked out before Gabe could get a good look at her. Today she was wearing jeans that actually fit without falling off her hips, and a thick gray sweater that fell off her shoulder, but that looked like it was the style and not the size. She looked healthier than the last time he’d seen her. Of all the things to have inherited, she inherited her mother’s terrible parenting and her grandfather’s temper and addiction.

“I dunno. They always seem to call you when I fuck up.” She admitted. “Ari kicked me out of the room.”

That was going to be a fun conversation with the case worker. He nodded and took a drag, using the time to think about what to say to that. “She prefers being called Bella.” He finally settled on.

Connie finished her cigarette and dropped the butt onto the ground before pushing off the wall. “No, you prefer Bella. She’s three. She’ll answer to any name I call her.” And with that his daughter started walking back towards the street. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

He watched his daughter walk away before finishing his cigarette and sanitizing his hands. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but they both knew she wouldn’t listen. Pushing all thoughts of his daughter away, he went inside to pick up Bella. And sure enough, as soon as he walked into the waiting room, the receptionist led him into a conference room to wait for the caseworker.

“Mr. James-Michaels.” Miss Alison greeted him. And it was Miss Alison. He’d tried just calling her Alison once and she nearly bit his head off. His husband said it was a Child Services/Social Worker thing and to just roll with it.

“Miss Alison.” He greeted in return, watching as she sat down at the table across from him. “I ran into Connie outside.”

The younger woman’s face paled. “Did she tell you what happened?” She pulled out her tablet and Gabe knew from experience that she was pulling up their file.

“Just that Bella threw her out of the room. And that she’s trying to make ‘Ari’ happen.”

Miss Alison sighed. “I put in a call to the judge. We may have to terminate her visitation for a couple of weeks.” It looked like she was looking for the best way to explain to Gabe what happened. Technically there was video footage, but Gabe hated watching it and Miss Alison knew that.

“Miss James has once again refused to follow the rules of visitation. She was thirty minutes late, she insisted on referring to Bella as Ari, even after both myself and Bella asked her to refrain, and she once again told Bella she was going to buy a house and take her away from you. It was at that point that Bella screamed and asked her to go away. We escorted Miss James out immediately. It’s become very clear that the current arrangement is not conducive to Bella’s wellbeing. You and your husband will likely get a summons within the next week or so with a court date to meet with Judge Murphy again.”

Before Gabe could respond, there was a knock on the door, and one of the assistants popped their head into the room. “Sorry, Bella kept asking me to call you. When I let her know you were already here, she demanded to see you because and I quote ‘the connatution says so.’” And he looked like he was trying so hard not to laugh.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That she definitely got from my husband.” He dug around in his satchel and pulled out a package of freeze dried apple slices and tossed them at the assistant before pulling off his beanie and tossing that to him as well. “Those should tide her over until I’m done in here.” He promised. “I have to go over my and my husband’s availability for the next couple of weeks with Miss Alison.”

By the time Gabe finished his conversation and went to the other room to collect Bella, she was standing by the door, coat on and his beanie shoved down over her wild hair. “Took you long enough, GG.” She complained as he signed her out and carried her out of the building. “You dunno what I had to deal with today.”

His granddaughter was definitely three going on forty-seven.

After going to pick up his custom brushes, they headed over to the Collective so they could drop them off in his studio and because there were some orders he apparently needed to authorize. As soon as they walked inside, Bella told him she wanted to watch ‘the spinning’. He had no idea what she was talking about, until they walked to the classroom and he saw Maxxie running his beginning pottery class. Bella scampered off to sit near Maxxie and watch him move his clay around. Somehow he had a feeling she was going to wind up covered in clay - again. Shaking his head, he walked out of the classroom to find Andrew James sitting at the reception desk.

His son was twenty-six years old and all dark hair and tan skin. There was something about his hair that reminded Gabe of how his hair had been when he was his age. It was long and hung in his eyes - all the damn time. He was broad-shouldered, but was constantly hunching in on himself. It was like he was trying to make himself smaller everywhere he went. If he had to describe his son in one word, it would be skittish.

He spent years on medication he didn’t need after he claimed that he saw aliens take his aunt away. It wasn’t until he was older that he finally saw a therapist who saw his story for what it was: a way for his brain to comprehend a horrible thing he’d witnessed. Unfortunately by that time, he’d already spent years on medication he never needed and the side effects were irreversible. Thankfully the worst of it was memory loss and shaky hands.

“What are you doing working today?” He asked curiously as he gestured for his son to let him onto the computer. His son had been working at the Collective since he moved to New York. He’d made it clear he didn’t want any handouts, but he’d connected so well with the others at the Collective that it was strange to think about him working anywhere else. “I thought you refused to work on days Maxxie and Velvet were working.”

He’d dated both Velvet and Maxxie and now tried to avoid both of them whenever he could. His relationship with Velvet hadn’t been all that serious. As soon as he found out Velvet slept in a coffin, he was out. Maxxie, on the other hand, had been very serious. They’d dated for six months, which was the longest he’d ever seen his friend in a relationship. It had ended badly, to say the very least. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened between them, but fire had been involved somehow.

Drew made a face as he perched on the desk, shoulders hunched over and ankles crossed. “That’s not true.” He lied. “I traded shifts with Kid. He had his first GED prep class today.”

Gabe smiled at that. It had taken Tommy long enough. He pulled up the order he needed to review. There were still things he needed to do up in his office, but knowing that his son was working made him want to stay downstairs with him for as long as he could get away with it.

“CJ texted me.” Drew said after a long moment. “She wanted me to talk some ‘sense’ into you.”

He rolled his eyes. “And how’s that going for you?” While Connie didn’t talk to him, she still talked to her brother, but mostly only when she needed something. Drew, for his part, didn’t take sides. He loved his sister despite her faults, but he also knew how she was and what was best for his niece.

Before Drew could respond, Maxxie’s voice came from the classroom. “Pookie! Can you come get your little sister?! She’s throwing clay on the ground.” And nothing about that surprised him except for…

“Pookie?” He mouthed at his son, eyebrow raised. Maybe there was more to Drew working today than just taking Tommy’s shift.

His son blushed as he hopped off the desk. “That’s the part you’re focusing on? Not the fact that he keeps calling my niece my sister?” He grumbled out. “I’ll watch Bella; just go work.” He waved a hand in his dad’s direction.

As his son disappeared into the classroom and he could hear Bella squealing in delight, he couldn’t help but to mouth out again: “Pookie?”

#drabble #pairing: Gabe/Johnny #pairing: Drew/Maxxie

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